#rdr uncle imagine

[ghost-qwq]

my sad angry wet cat of a son forced to play dress up with his fathers clothes

[thegirlfromblackwater]

If the Van der Linde Gang went to the Movies (Modern Au)

Modern RDR 2 headcanons because they make me laugh, so I'll write one.

Arthur:

Definitely ends up driving everyone to the movie theater.

Also, the designated member who buys everyone's snacks and drinks (except Pearson).

He gets cranky when this happens, but stubbornly does it.

He would like action movies and Western films for he understands the cowboy world.

If Arthur had TB in the modern world, he would annoy everyone with his coughing but not give a damn.

Pearson:

He's obsessed with Popcorn.

One of those people who munches and slurps too loudly.

He probably sits alone.

I imagine he would get an extra-large popcorn but don't even think about him sharing.

He would also get a large soda.

Maybe some candy on the side.

He would unconsciously eat and gets really sucked into what's going on in the film, drowning out all the noise around him.

Mary Beth:

One of those girls who's super into Romance films with a twist of Historical fiction.

She would definitely be one of those people that cry in the theatre.

She would probably like something like "The Notebook"

Likes to go with Tilly & Ms. Grimshaw

Dislikes Horror and Sci-Fi Films that the boys always go to

Always asks Arthur for a small popcorn

Karen

Always sneaks a bottle of alcohol into the theatre under her coat.

Likes to sit with Sean. The two of them have a ball

Karen always ends up getting drunk. Will start talking nonsense with her words slurred. Sean thinks this fucking funny.

She will yell at the screen

Sean

Never stops talking during the movie

Gets a little too intimate with Karen sometimes

Usually shares the bottle of Alcohol with her too

Tries to sit next to Arthur sometimes

John

Likes to be with Arthur, Charles & Javier

Abigail tells him he needs to take Jack to a movie that's PG.

Gets annoyed at this and ends up watching something like "Despicable Me" or "Inside Out"

He once left Jack in the theatre all alone and sneaked to the other movie

Probably would enjoy a horror film every once and a while

Abigail

Usually goes with Jack to watch a kid's movie for John is incapable.

Sometimes she goes with the other female gang members.

Almost skinned John alive for taking Jack to a horror film that gave the child nightmares for weeks

Trelawny

Finds a way to upgrade himself to a recliner seat

likes foreign films

Likes popcorn with no butter

Probably has a home theatre in his house

Uncle

Doesn't know which movie he's ever going to

ends up taking a nap on the bench in the hallway

In the theatre he is the one who falls asleep and snores loudly

Says the seats aren't good for his lumbago

Strauss

Stays home and doesn't have enough time to go to the movies

Bill

Probably would enjoy a Sci-fi movie

Likes to wear 3D Glasses

Sits way too close to the screen in the very front row

Never understands fully what's going on

Always ends up spilling the popcorn on the floor

Sadie

Likes action/Adventure movies.

Will scream at the screen

Enjoys gore

Likes mystery

Grimshaw

Always regulating everyone's snack intake

Tells Pearson he eats too much

Likes to control Tilly & Marybeth in their choices

Hates sitting too close. The back or middle of the theatre is the best

Javier

For sure a popcorn stealer

Likes western films also

Gets excited when people speak Spanish in the movie

Reverend Swanson

Usually walks out halfway through the film

Makes weird noises during the film

falls asleep

Kieran

Likes calm movies especially those about animals

Likes to go with Mary Beth & the girls

Gets excited when there is a horse in one of the scenes

Is happy to go with Jack to see an animated kids' movie

Dutch

Probably would go to something like a documentary

likes to only be with Hosea

Has molly tailgating him sometimes

Hosea

Tries to con the person who sells the popcorn & Food

Will go to see whatever Dutch sees

only drinks water

Jack

Likes funny kids' movies

Probably likes Pixar

Charles

The only normal person at the movie theatre

Never cries

sits with Arthur

goes with the flow

just watches what everyone else watches

Micah

Annoying

sits alone

probably likes the worst rated movies

laughs during sad scenes

Arthur refuses to get him food

Tilly

Likes what Mary Beth likes

Probably a historical fiction type of gal

Always commenting about the movie to Mary Beth

Always giggling

Molly

Likes to follow Dutch to whatever he goes to see

Gets bored

complains about Dutch's choices

tries to separate him from Hosea

Brings her makeup

Think's Dutch's movie preferences are terrible

Lenny:

likes movies that are based on books

doesn't make a lot of noise

likes sno-caps and gummies

Any of your own ideas are welcome...

[verdemoun]

Hiii I wanted to ask what you think happens to Micah in the timewarp au cause modern Micah is such an enigma and it's so funny to me. Do you think he's coping well with modern times? Or does he just respawn and immediately tries robbing a mc Donald's or smth. Could def see him doing Florida man throwing an alligator through a Wendy's window type shit or just being the Wendy's employee getting the alligator thrown at him.

Also speaking of Florida man do you have an idea of what state they live in currently in modern au? (I love hearing peoples takes on where in America they think rdr takes place, especially when they're talking about where they'd be in a modern au)

i am so conflicted because like. gang with memories and knowledge of what happens in the future.

arthur wants to kill micah. yes he's been thriving and has a happy life with hosea and bessie and the boys and being a part of isaac's modern life but imagine the guilt he would feel knowing he was dying anyway but if he'd killed micah in 1899 it would've literally saved lives and it might have meant the bureau never went after john in 1911. the absolute arthur 'blames himself for everything that ever happened' morgan would consider himself personally responsible for every life micah took/destroyed post 1899. and arthur has 8 years to plan. 8 years.

but i did let dutch live so why not micah. gotta give rat bastard man a of love

micah respawned in a denny's parking lot to the sight of arthur morgan with a baseball bat. no context. no understanding what's happening. it's late evening. there's street lights and neon signs and who fucking cares they immediately pick up where they left off in 1899 which is beating the living shit out of one another.

cut to them both bloody and bruised in holding cells at the local jail still hurling insults at each other while hosea is just standing there wondering what the actual hell he is meant to do.

said incident immediately landed micah on a list of people not allowed to be sold guns and it is like neutering a feral dog. the first time micah cries in his life is at a walmart being told he isn't able to buy a gun. even if the gang want nothing to do with him like they are getting a phone call sorry to interrupt your evening sir but there's an adult man throwing a tantrum on the floor

the gang are forced to admit it isn't morally correct to a) let micah loose unsupervised in modern era or b) leave him to fend for himself and die. micah ends up living in a trailer park. he embraces redneck culture. he eats so much fast food the servers will call for a welfare check if they haven't seen him in more than three days. he gets a job at a paintball center because damnit if he can't have a gun he will have gun-adjacent. he is the conservative dad-bod southern hick hero of teenage boys everywhere

what's really funny is isaac morgan's best friend (other than jack, obviously) is malachi bell who is a direct descendant of amos bell. because he has known isaac since elementary school: and young isaac did not understand his experiences of being murdered and reawakening in modern era were not universal: kai is fully aware of how the timewarp works ie sometimes he goes with isaac to visit grandpop hosea and there will be a very confused freshly warped outlaw sitting on the couch. the fucking phone call of 'hey remember how my family was super weird around you at the start because you look scarily like your grand uncle who kind of killed my dad and was murdered by my uncle GUESS WHO JUST TURNED UP'

micah is the best terrible uncle a kid could ask for and is honestly super attached to kai even though kai is his polar opposite in every way out of spite. kai goes to micah's trailer for dinner. says he's vegetarian. goes again and micah went through the effort of getting tofu. says he's allergic to soy. inherited all the bell snark and none of the tendency towards evil

micah and arthur in a fistfight at a barbeque while kai and isaac are both just standing there 'i'm sorry about my family'

an underappreciated micah fact is how much he cared about baylock. he would get the exact same level of giddy as the rest of the gang being around horses in modern era. while living in a trailer is not ideal for having a horse he does have a massive black 'looks like he could kill you but is actually a giant cuddle bear' bully-breed dog because as much as he was afraid of dogs (fight me) he is actually more afraid of being alone. his dog eats at the table with him. micah eats mcdonalds while his dog gets lovingly pan-seared steak.

his dog is a kill-shelter rescue named baymax and micah has no idea about disney movies and doesn't understand why people giggle at the name.

to the second point i am not american and have no idea wheeze but i think texas?? texas is where most people seem to think new austin is based on?? in rdr terms they're probably on the northern side of modern day blackwater like there's the bay to the east, mountains to the north and desert to the west. pls if there are any americans what fast food place would micah bell III dedicate his life to and what state should they be in

[notepadsandtealeaves]

Uncle x GN!Reader in: Yours, Always and Forever

From the van der Linde Boys, With Love 💌 || VDE 2021

MINORS/AGELESS BLOGS DO NOT INTERACT || 18+ ONLY ||

|| ao3 version | event m.list | rdr tag | main blog ||

|| rdr vde (ladies) | batboys vde | bnha vde ||

You’re as sharp as you are sweet, proud and beautiful and one of the most giving souls I’ve ever had the pleasure of knowing… You’re so much more than what I ever expected to get out of this life, and certainly a sight more than what I deserve.

There’s no sweeter a story than the one you’re writing together…

↠ Requested By: My burning desire to receive a love letter lol ↠ Reader Gender: Neutral ↠ Content Type: SFW fluff ((but my blog’s 18+ so if minors want to consume my sfw stuff while still respecting my wishes of them staying out of this space, they can head over to my AO3)) ↠ CWs: None ↠ Betas? Nah, we don’t do that here. ((tho we should, honestly)) ↠ Total WC: 300~

Ayyy! Last two post of the event! Sure, I’m like 6 months behind, but who’s counting. ((It’s me. I’m counting, and I’m so glad I’m done lol…))

A big thanks to everyone who’s stuck around for so long, y’all the real ones. Are these installments worth the wait? Idk, but at least they’re done now.

Anyways!

Uncle is always fun to write for because, well, it’s Uncle. That’s just the way he works. This one’s got a bit more of a serious vibe tho, but only because he wants to make double sure you know how much he cares, sweet ol’ lush that he is.

|| Yours, Always and Forever

To my sweetie,

As much as I love to spin a good yarn, writing stuff ain’t exactly my strong suit. Surprising, I know, but it’s the truth! Still, with it being Valentine’s Day and all I figured now was as good a time as any to give it a go.

So what do I say to the only person that has been able to truly tame my heart? Should I tell you that from the moment I first laid eyes on you that I just knew you were gonna someone special? Didn’t know just how special you were gonna be to me in particular back then, but I certainly knew you were a treasure. Still don’t know what someone as lovely as you wants with an old geezer like me, but I ain’t complaining. In fact I’m mighty honored to say that you’re all mine! You’re as sharp as you are sweet, proud and beautiful and one of the most giving souls I’ve ever had the pleasure of knowing… You’re so much more than what I ever expected to get out of this life, and certainly a sight more than what I deserve.

I don’t rightly have much to offer you, but I do love you something fierce, ____, and all that I do have—all that I am—is entirely yours for the takin’.

Alright, I should probably end this now before I embarrass myself too much. So I’ll just wrap this up by saying happy Valentine’s Day, darlin’! Thanks for spending it, and every other day, with me.

Yours, always and forever, Uncle

P.s.: Ah! I should also mention that besides this letter and a small lil’ trinket I don’t have much else planned for the day, but if you want to do something I’ll do my best to make it happen for you, sweetheart. Just promise me we’ll make time to look up at the stars for a spell. You know how much I love to watch ‘em, but really that’s only because they’re the only thing that comes close to matching your beauty…

© notepadsandtealeaves, 2021 || Please do not repost, translate, or otherwise alter or distribute my works without my express permission. And for the love of god keep it away from Youtube and TikTok lol…

[protectduffy]

When You’re Hurt (M)

male edition! featuring the camp boahs along with trelawny and eagle flies! female edition coming shortly! and let me know if you want any more characters added!

Trigger warning: violence, injury, cursing, racial remarks

this is so looong, i am so sorry!

Arthur

- you always have a warm smile for Arthur when you return to camp, shortly before falling into his arms

- however, this time when you came back from a robbery of a small bank, you walked straight past him with your head down

- concerned, Arthur followed like a wounded pup, trailing after you

- “What’s wrong, sweetheart?” he keeps his voice very soft, quiet

- you try to ignore him with only an incoherent mumble of an answer as you find your cot and all but collapse on it

- immediately he knows something went wrong, you start crying to yourself and he falls to his knees beside the cot, touching you all over and looking for the source of the pain

- he finds a few bruises and scrapes, but nothing too frightening

- realising you were hurting emotionally, too, Arthur hesitates before lying beside you and sliding his arms around your waist, murmuring softly to you

- when you finally decide to tell him that the robbery went wrong and how disappointed in yourself you are, he scoffs and recounts all the times he’s failed miserably at something, reassuring you of how much he cares for you always, no matter what

Charles

- it was supposed to be a quick hunting trip to bring back a couple of rabbits or a deer if you were lucky, but when you returned to camp empty handed, Charles was quite surprised

- he respects your hunting ability and has helped you to hone in on your skills, so to come back after hours of being gone with nothing so much as a fish, he knows something went awry

- he doesn’t push you, though, watching from the campfire as you trail into your tent, disappearing from sight

- only then does Charles approach, so as to give you some space but also ensure your safety

- he finds you sat on the bed, sniffling and inspecting your bleeding forearm

- first he feels fear first, then concern

- “What happened? Did someone hurt you?” his voice has a mild shake of emotion as he grasps at your wrist to inspect the zigzag cuts on your forearm

- it isn’t too deep, but neither is it pleasant, and it will likely scar

- embarrassed, you admit that your old hunting bow snapped when you pulled it taut and ended up whipping back against your arm

- “You should always come to me if you get hurt, I want to keep you safe, and I’ll never look down on you for accidents.”

- Charles promises you it isn’t silly and that he’ll help you make a new bow, a sturdy one, after he bandages your arm

Javier

- you had set out for a train robbery with a few others, but Javier had stayed back to help around the camp with a few pressing matters

- he wasn’t too worried about you, but he did constantly look up at the horizon in the hopes of catching a glimpse of your returning figure

- when it grew dark and still nothing appeared, Javier became restless

- he had just grabbed his weapons to go find the others when the noises startled him

- you stumbled into camp with Bill, Dutch and John, obviously limping but trying to hide it

- Javier’s eyes narrow, he had made Dutch swear to keep you safe because he couldn’t be there himself to protect you

- you can’t hide the limp from him, and Javier becomes like a dog with a bone, swearing and storming over and not once showing signs of letting this go

- “The hell happened?! I told you to keep them safe, hijo de puta!”

- Dutch explains calmly that you were kicked and fell off the train when attacked by one of the guards but that you were fine

- Javier, deciding not to explode in front of everyone, picks you up without another word and cradles you on his lap by the fire, cooing softly, even if you insist you’re fine

- he uses the injury as an excuse for the rest of the week to keep you in bed, or to carry you around constantly, never leaving your side until you’re healed

- he plays you songs on his guitar to keep your spirits up

Dutch

- Dutch has enemies everywhere, and he’s always treading very carefully so as to not alert those enemies to his whereabouts

- unfortunately, this doesn’t always work out in his favour

- you had gone into the local town to collect some groceries for the camp when you were recognised by two men whom Dutch had once had a run-in with

- when you saw them drop their drinks and come charging towards you, it was already too late to make a run for it

- overwhelmed, you tried your best to fend yourself off and ended up killing one of the men before you could finally break free

- you ran all the way back to camp, bursting through the trees like a wild animal with hair sticking up and eyes bloodshot

- “The-they k-knew me, I c-c-couldn’t stop th-the-” 

- you had burst into tears before you could finish the sentence, with Susan and Arthur immediately at your side to hold you up

- covered in bruises and with a split lip, you looked quite the mess

- Dutch, attracted by the sound of your distressed voice, emerged from his tent and stood for a fraction of a second in shock

- you could see the expressions form on his face, surprise, worry, hatred

- he cleared the distance to you inhumanly fast and pulled you against his chest after checking for any other injuries, holding you against him, feeling your body shake with sobs

- “Who did it, darling?” he speaks softly so as not to startle you, but the bitter undertone is unmissable

- when you tell him, Dutch kisses your temple and gently gives you back to a concerned Susan, promising he’ll be right back

- the storm in his eyes is one you won’t forget as he left with guns in hand, not returning until the next day covered in blood and quietly returning to your side

Hosea

- O’Driscoll boys had always been a problem, but never more so than when you found yourself in a saloon alone

- having decided to take a break, you found a quiet corner and sipped your drink, watching out the window as the sun slowly sank in the sky

- three rough looking men approached you, leering and nudging one another, laughing to themselves

- your face went pale, you recognised them as the O’Driscoll dogs who so often plagued you and your gang

- trying to ignore them didn’t work, one of them pulled you up from your seat and you immediately went into fight-or-flight, drawing the gun at your hip and firing blindly

- you managed to escape in the chaos of the saloon in uproar, the men after you losing track of your form but not before one of them landed a shot in your left arm

- crying out, you managed to throw yourself on your horse and ride back to camp, leaning heavily to one side as the blood continued to weep through your wound

- your whole body was pale and sweaty as it slid from the saddle and thumped on the grass

- Hosea looked up from the book he was reading at the sound of your approach, alarm bells ringing in his head as he watched you fall

- he ran across the camp and skidded in the dirt, pulling you up onto his lap

- you managed to mumble something about O’Driscoll and that you were sorry before passing out

- “No, not like this, you’re not dying like this!”

- he makes the others bring medicine, bandages and hot water to help you, but never once does Hosea get off the ground with you gently on his lap

- when you wake up two days later, you learn that he had sent Arthur and John to take care of your attackers, but Hosea himself hadn’t left his seat next to your bed the whole time

Lenny

- skinning animals was still very new to you, though Pearson was being very patient (most of the time) in teaching you so that you could assist him with the stew

- in fact, you were beginning to feel like a real expert a few days in with your knife

- spying your boyfriend Lenny walking across camp with some firewood, you decided to flourish a little, twirling the knife and trying to look casual as you did so

- unfortunately, this ploy didn’t work

- the blade caught in some of the pelt you were removing and flipped on itself, cutting across your palm in a short line

- with a slightly yelp, you at once had Lenny fawning over you, grabbing your hand and twisting it every which way - gently as he could - to inspect the wound

- he isn’t the best with injuries since he panics when he sees that you’re wounded

- thankfully, Pearson knows what to do and instructs the poor boy to clean then bandage the injury

- although it will heal in time, Lenny insists that you stay close to his side in case of any more unpleasant accidents (but he loves the excuse to have you beside him)

Micah

- Micah doesn’t like to be viewed as clingy or overprotective, but he does often stick by your side like glue, making sure you won’t get into any trouble without him (or because of him)

- when you were waiting for him outside the gun merchant’s store, he was drawn to focus on the sounds of hushed argument

- as soon as Micah had disappeared inside, a dark figure emerged at the front of the store to interrogate you, asking if you knew Mr. Bell and how that was so

- suspicious, you didn’t give away any details of Micah, the gang or yourself, but this only proved to anger the man

- he flashed his badge at you and drew his pistol, at which point it was too late to reach for your own without being shot at

- the detective attempted to force you to your knees as you fought him off, struggling to find grip in the dust

- “Micah!”

- he responds like lightning, dramatically kicking the door open and storming outside

- nobody messes with his baby

- he doesn’t even mock or anger the detective like he normally would, instead Micah draws his freshly cleaned and gleaming guns, firing six rounds into the detective

- the whole town is alight then, but Micah is more than happy to help you onto his horse, murmuring assurances to you the whole time, riding out of the chaos and clutching you (and his guns) tightly

- “Don’t worry, I got’cha, honey.”

John

- on a hunting trip with John, you were both relaxing in the shade waiting for prey to take the bait in the clearing ahead of the two of you

- resting against his chest and sat up against a tree, you share hushed conversations and jokes while you wait

- after an hour, a buck wanders into the clearing and approaches the bait, his antlers catching some of the morning light

- unfortunately, you were not the only hunters in the area

- a growl sounds out behind John and you swivel around in his arms to spot a looming grizzly, which had been attracted by the buck, baring his teeth

- John pushes you aside and leaps to his feet to draw his weapons, heart pounding in his throat with pure adrenaline and fear for your safety

- the bear takes a solid three bullets and swipes in retaliation before it scampers away to lick it’s wounds

- John is hesitant to slide his guns away, panting, as he turns to find you

- the bear’s claws had just managed to clip your jaw and though the injury is not immense, it is something which needs to be treated

- regardless, he swears and pulls off his shirt to press it to your jaw, stopping the bleeding

- “It don’t look too bad. I’m so sorry I didn’t see it sooner!”

- after apologising profusely and unnecessarily carrying you back to camp, he makes you smile by suggesting that maybe you’ll have a smaller version of his own scars

- it would be safe to say that he always holds your hand from that point on when you’re out together, just in case

Bill

- admittedly, the rain was probably not the best weather choice for a walk, but that didn’t outright occur to you when you decided you wanted a break from listening to everyone bickering

- Bill was asleep already, exhausted from a recent robbery, and you wanted to clear your head

- exploring the surrounding areas seemed like a good way to do that

- you wandered along a nearby stream so you would know how to get back, and you followed your feet up a gradually inclining hill

- however, you hadn’t noticed just how steep that incline was getting until your breath started coming in pants

- when you realised that you had probably gone too far and were at risk of losing the trail back, you carefully tried to tread your way back down the hill

- slowly making each step count, you were about halfway down when your heel lost grip and you fell head first, thankfully flipping and rolling before skidding the rest of the way down to the stream

- the pain in your wrist was immense from having landed on it, but your pride was probably the most wounded

- very slowly, you trudged back to camp, hoping nobody would notice the mud stains or the throbbing red bruises around your wrist

- unfortunately for you, bill had woken to find you missing and was already in a mood

- as soon as he lay eyes on you, he felt the urge to scold you for scaring him like that, but was distracted by the shame in your eyes and the way you held your wrist awkwardly to your chest

- “What the hell happened? I told you not to go out alone!” 

- he isn’t very sure how to treat you but presents you to Strauss with an urgent look in his eyes

- Bill hovers behind you the whole time you’re examined and put in a sling

- he takes the instructions to rest very seriously, grumbling about how you worried him as he holds you that night, smoothing your hair

Uncle

- it was a silly accident, but that didn’t make it any less painful

- “Shit, Sean, get me a cloth!”

- you scold him under your breath as he hurries to get a clean rag for your hands

- he had been messing around with you that evening when he accidentally knocked you too hard and your hands shot out to steady yourself, smashing the glass you were holding against the table you braced yourself on

- very apologetic and drunk, Sean brings the attention of a sleepy Uncle, who grumbles as he makes his way over

- seeing the damage to your hands and the sheepish expression on the redhead’s face, Uncle starts to turn a bright pink shade of anger

- “Stupid boy! What did you do? Give me a look at that.” 

- you politely suggest to Sean that he had better leave and he looks relieved to high-tail it

- Uncle sits you down and tells you about the times when he had a bottle smashed against him, or was thrown through/jumped through glass, so he has a surprising amount of knowledge

- after cleaning out the wounds on your palms and covering them with clean cloths, he ushers you straight to bed and makes sure to keep Sean away from you until he’s sobered up

Pearson

- you really, really wanted to learn how to cook

- robbery jobs and general mischief was low since the gang had only just set up in the new location, so you decided you would be helpful in other ways and at the same time get to spend all your moments with Pearson

- he was a bit begrudging over it, playfully suggesting you’ll get in his way, but he is surprisingly a good teacher if you’re a good listener

- you’re asked to bring over the pot of boiling water from the fire so he can add in the meat to it

- seems like a simple task, but the pot had been boiling for longer than either of you realised and even the handle was ragingly hot

- with a yelp, you yanked your now blistered hand away, shaking it frantically as if that might ease the burning sensation

- with an immense amount of concern, Pearson grasps your arm and pulls you to the table where a bucket of cold water sits, plunging your hand in and rubbing your back with his free hand

- “It’s okay, just focus on me, m’kay? Look at me.”

- when the burning subsides, he bandages the hand and keeps applying cold water to it as well as some ointment from one of the previous robberies

- he makes sure to gently kiss the hand every now and then

Kieran

- it was a nice day to test your new revolver

- you had decided to ride a small distance from camp to test your skills in your new weapon by shooting some bottles

- however, you had failed to realise that the weapon you had purchased was not brand new, and was instead a second-hand gun that the store owner had pawned off on you

- as a result, it wasn’t a steady or recently tested weapon

- when you pulled the trigger the first time, it hit the target, but slightly off centre

- with another shot, the gun recoiled hard and the metal at the rear seemed to come apart with an agonising burn to your palm

- the scent of burnt flesh and metal made you howl in pain and shock

- this startled your horse who, mistaking it for the cry of a predator, darted back to camp

- Kieran, naturally recognising your spooked horse and seeing no rider, calms the animal before going out in search of you, calling out with a shaky voice as his wide eyes search every tree, bush and boulder

- he finds you curled up against a tree trunk clutching your arm, whimpering

- Kieran himself makes a soft noise of pain to see you hurting and sits next to you, gently prying your other hand away from your injured one to inspect the damage

- although he very much wants to throw up at the sight of all the blood and burns on his lover, he steels himself because you need him

- Kieran puts you on his horse and rides like thunder into camp, presenting you like a broken bird with the most heartbroken expression on his face that he can’t help you because he doesn’t know where to start

- Strauss treats and binds your hand, letting Kieran lead you to his bed where he sits with you and kisses your shoulder in between sweet words, rocking you against his chest

- the next day he pulls Arthur aside and asks him as a favour to go find the gun trader and ‘deal with him’

Sean

- law was always going to be a problem when you were running with Dutch’s gang

- however, Sean certainly didn’t help that situation

- he has a habit of stirring up trouble with lawmen, even if he does nothing other than verbally taunt them

- sometimes he just doesn’t know where the line is

- usually you don’t mind, because you know he can slip away and you’ll always have his back, but this time he went too far

- the lawman decided he’d had enough of Sean’s smart mouth and pulled out his gun, yelling at the Irishman in colourful tones

- Sean had the sense to pull you out of the store you were browsing as you both took off, Sean but you scolding him

- in the crossfire - although you had managed to escape into the woods - a bullet had grazed your thigh and burned Sean’s shoulder

- “Oh shit, shit, shit! I’m so sorry darlin’, honey, let me see it! Dammit, shit, I can fix this!”

- he rants to himself as he makes you a makeshift little bandage, soothing your pain and occasionally kissing you

- he also kisses your thigh very very lightly over the bandage, giving you puppy eyes and swearing he’ll make it up to you

- although he won’t admit it, he’s much more reserved around lawmen (at least for a little while) afterwards, and he always makes sure that you are safe first

Trelawny

- due to his common disappearing act (which had lessened immensely since the two of you became an item) around camp, you and Josiah both took great pride in making time for one another to do different things

- one day it was boating down the river, the next it was saloon-hopping, the next was basking in a flower field

- he always has unique places to take you and the softest gleam in his eye

- this time, he insisted you go for a horse ride down the trail he found which would lead to a beautiful cliff overlooking the vast area

- your horse was brand new and still slightly skittish, having not had enough time to bond with you yet to develop a sense of trust

- regardless, you wanted to ride the mare next to Trelawny and his own steed

- it was a peaceful walk through the trees until your horse noticed the lithe form of a snake darting into the underbrush

- immediately, the mare reared up and kicked her legs, panicking, throwing you from the saddle before she bolted in the opposite direction

- it all seemed to happen in slow motion as you came crashing down to the dirt, audibly snapping something in your foot

- Josiah leapt from his horse and had pulled you close at an instant, inspecting you all over

- “Where does it hurt? Is this sore? Did you hit your head?”

- he’s like a mother hen fussing and protecting you, his hands expertly feeling for any breakages until he reaches your ankle and hears you cry out

- “Okay, it’s alright, dove. Just breathe, I’m going to take you home.”

- for the time that it takes you to learn how to walk with a makeshift crutch, he is always there shadowing you, making sure that if you look even a little bit unsteady that he is there to right you

- he makes sure you ride with him, too, until you gain your confidence back

Eagle Flies

- when the soldiers set up not too far from his tribe, Eagle Flies immediately became much more tense when you’d visit

- he would always love to grasp your hand and sit with his arms around you, but this was different

- he wasn’t blind to your beauty, and he knew the soldiers saw it too, since they frequently made passing comments in your presence when you’d walk by

- trying his absolute best to ignore it, he could still very much enjoy his time with you when you would visit, showing you all of the best spots for a good view, hunting, and contemplation

- one morning, Eagle Flies decided to leave early to find some of those flowers you always awe over

- when you arrived to find him missing, you decided to wander the local area since it seemed you were starting to become more familiar with the land thanks to Eagle Flies and his many trips with you

- however, you weren’t the only one roaming the forest

- three soldiers, all surprisingly tipsy despite it being morning, stumbled through the bushes and happened upon you

- both parties stared for a good few seconds - which felt like hours - until the shortest of the soldiers cracked a grin and made towards you

- his friends were quicker, grabbing your arms and attempting to subdue you, ripping your shirt in the process

- “If it ain’t the Indian-loving little bitch! Come here, sweetheart, come on!” the other two men took to whistling at you like a dog

- “I’ll show you how a real man fucks a-”

- there was no opportunity for the man to finish his vulgar statement likely due to the arrow protruding from his chest

- blood splutters from his mouth and the other two soldiers are on their backs before they could draw their weapons

- shaking from the shock, you barely register the familiar presence as Eagle Flies emerges from the shadows with his bow clutched tightly in hand

- he has a look of immense rage you’ve never seen before, his eyes ice cold as he surveys the bodies before deciding they’re dead

- when his gaze shifts to you, it softens at once to a look of concern and love

- “Are you okay? I’m sorry I wasn’t here sooner. Come.” he speaks quietly, like a whisper to not startle the doe, and opens his arms

- you whimper and gratefully fall into his embrace

- back at the tribe, Eagle Flies sits you on his lap and whispers softly to you, watching the campfire after informing his father of the situation

- he makes sure from then on to always scope the land before your arrival, but soon a better idea emerges; you permanently stay with him on their native lands

- regardless, he’s much more protective of you and always has a warm comment to make you smile or a gentle touch to remind you he’s always there for you

[scarfacemarston]

Charles Smith x Reader Sick HCs What he’s like sick & caring for you.

Arthur’s post here. John’s two-part post Here and Here. Enjoy!

When He’s Sick:

*It’s very difficult to tell when Charles is sick. He can be very stoic at times and does not ever want to be a bother. 

*Unlike Arthur and John, Charles has the sense to actually care for himself when he shows symptoms of being ill. Charles believes full heartedly in caring for mind, body, and spirit at all times, otherwise, he knows he can’t be at his best. * He’s very aware of his body and limitations. This didn't come easily to him. He was a healthy enough child, but after his father died and his mother was kidnapped, he struggled to care for himself. He didn’t see the point. *He didn’t start to care until he met a kindly old hermit who had nursed him back to health after he had collapsed from exhaustion. The man was part Native like Charles was and had lived by himself after his tribe had either moved to the city or to a reservation. He taught Charles what he knew about botany including how to make medicine and poison, what plants were safe to eat as well as his personal philosophy. Charles picked and chose what he believed from those discussions. He combined his prior knowledge with what the old hermit taught him.

* You become worried when you notice him sleeping for longer periods of time. Charles normally wakes up at dawn in order to hunt or enjoy some alone time. You don’t want to nag him for sleeping. You know he deserves it, but you had a gut feeling that something was wrong.

*He’ll try to cover up his coughs so not to worry you. As kind as his thoughtfulness is, you want him to know how much you love him, even when he’s sick. You’re the type to worry about him either way.

*It isn’t until you discover him mixing masses of herbs that he finally admits to you that he’s been ill. You just nod and say, “I know”. Charles decides to turn this into a lesson. He explains what herbs he’s using, what their properties are and how to properly mix them. *After the lesson, you send him to bed. You pile him with blankets and rub his calves.

* He always feels guilty when you care for him. He thinks he should care for you, but when he feels how good your hands feel on him, it’s hard to resist.

*You’ll sometimes try to tell him jokes. He’s more likely to laugh when he’s alone with you. You love the way it sounds.

*Sometimes, you’ll try to gossip with him. He’ll roll his eyes, but listen anyway. Charles occasionally throws in something juicy as well. Beware if John is nearby. He’s a ho for gossip and will try to join in.

*He tries to be a good patient. He will try to care for himself if Miss Grimshaw forces you to do chores. He tends to recover very quickly.

Charles Caring for You:

*You literally could not ask for a better person to take care of you in the camp.

*Your bond with Charles is so deep, that the two of you can communicate with glances only. However, you’re both very intuned with one another. You’re not surprised that Charles immediately senses that you’re off.

* He’ll silently hand you a canteen full of water and motion for you to drink.

*He and Hosea are the ones that make tea for everyone when they are sick. Hosea focuses on Ginseng whereas Charles likes to use ginger, mint, and elderberry. He’ll occasionally give you something extra special in the drink :)

* Charles is one of the few people that can cook. He’s not a gourmet chef by any means, but he knows what’s he doing with seasoning.

* This dude gives A+ massages. He’s also like walking heater. * He’s been known to carry to your shared tent in order to get you to rest.

* He’ll do extra chores and does what he can to keep Miss Grimshaw off your back.

*He’ll stay up late with you, fingers carding your hair as he tells you stories that he heard growing up.

* He’ll keep Uncle away from your tent. Uncle likes to hang out with sick people so he can claim that he’s “caring for them” and get out of actual work.

* Charles will sometimes make you little gifts out of feathers, bone and whatever other material he can find.

*He is always relieved to see you up and about once again. He gives you a proper greeting later. ;)

[i-love-charles]

Five Finger Fillet I

Chapter 1/3

Notes: Javier Escuella + Female Reader, Uncle Being Uncle, Slow Burner

Wordcount: 

A comfortable silence fills the campgrounds at Clemens Point, everyone keeping busy with either chores or planning their next stage robbery. Your own hands working feverishly at a bloodied shirt in the soapy basin at your bent knees; your nostrils flaring in muted disgust at the running red pigment laying claim to Arthur’s shirt collar – yet another shootout was your guess. It was rare that the camp ever had the opportunity to slow itself down so when the silence was cut short by an enthused Uncle jumping from his horse and practically hopping through camp, you let out a small groan to Mary-Beth besides you whom had perched herself against the provisions wagon with her face practically pressed into her sappy romance novel. Your reaction to Uncle’s arrival elicited a small, stifled giggle from her soft hidden features.

“Dutch! A ranch nearby…drunken farmhand…heard of cattle unguarded at night. I got the information from a man at the saloon in Rhodes, said there’s about thirty or forty cows out back!” Uncle, wheezing between sentences, shouted out to Dutch as he made his way to the cheap wooden table laying in the centre of camp where Ditch sat idly reading his new favourite Evelyn Miller novel.

“Then get off your backside Uncle and check it out, bring the cattle to our friends Clay and Clive at Clemens Cove, take either Javier or ___ with you.” He chimed whilst still whisking through the words in front of him. Javier was the first to react at the sound of his name - his attention lifting from the map of a homestead to the north of Rhodes, someplace called ‘Lonnie’s Shack’, to the conversation before him.  

“Dutch, come on. I’m not going rustling with Uncle, he’ll get me killed, hermano!” He groaned rolling up the map of Lemoyne and placing it on a crate nearby. You quickly dried your damp hands against the bedroll beneath you and rose to your feet; you definitely didn’t want to go with Uncle either, he was useless or almost always too intoxicated to actually help. You and Javier both made your way to the table where Dutch lay back unamused.  

“I’ve got too much to do here, Dutch.” You replied, countering Javier’s complaint.

“Uncle can’t go alone, he can barely dress himself, so decide who’s going with him or I will.” Dutch spoke up whilst closing the book and making his way to his tent, mumbling something along the lines of ‘just bring back money’ and whipping at the . Your eyes met Javier’s, almost waiting for him to be the gentleman and offer to go.

“I’m planning for a homestead, I can’t go, chica.” He explained, his tone almost pleading for you to take pity.

“Your planning can wait, Javier. I’ve got to wash blood out of the men’s shir-”  

“Why don’t you make it exciting and decide with a game of ‘five finger fillet’?” Uncle interrupted whilst twiddling the tip of his knife against the pad of his index finger. Once he let the words lose from his mouth, he looked up at you both knowing he’d started something. He brought the blade down to wedge into the grainy wood of the table and proceeded his escape to his usual spot at the foot of a shaded oak tree - hat tilted over his face and an open bottle of spirits at his lap.

You hated to give him credit, but the idea was actually a very exciting one, both you and Javier were more than competent when it came to the game. You relied more on precision when it came to winning tactics, whereas Javier’s skilled lied in his stamina. Almost reading your mind Javier sat himself down at the table, dislodging the knife and offering the handle to you with a roguish grin plastered at the corners of his mouth.

“Let’s not waste any time since we’ve both obviously got so much to do. One round, thirty-seconds each. Whad’ya say?” He chimed, you countered his question with the same grin and took the blade from his grip, joining him on the chair adjacent and proceeding to lay your palm flat against the cold wooden surface, the blade pressing down to meet the wood some inches from your thumb.

“Time starts with your first jab.” Javier retorted from across the table, arms crossed, and eyes fixated on your hand.

The first jab of the knife landed perfectly in the space between your thumb and index finger – each jab between your digits landing gracefully quick while the seconds counted down. Your mind chose to zone out Javier’s burning gaze and instead focused itself on the task at hand. The blade made its way through each of your fingers again, ever so slightly meeting with a small etch of skin on your ring finger but not hard enough to draw blood or raise Javier’s attention. The sun beamed down, and its rays caught against sharp metal spike that continually disappeared against the splintering surface between your fingers. Your grip on the knifes handle was strong and rigid, expertly raising and dropping the blade down, never faltering.  

“…4, 3, 2, 1. Seven laps, not bad at all, chica.”  

His round was even quicker, the blade stabbing down precisely between his fingers and his eyes purposefully fixated and engrossed into yours. Even when the table began to creak, and its thin legs began to stumble after every harsh collision of the blade he still made a point of never breaking away his gaze. You knew this was his intimidation tactic but, honestly, you weren’t intimidated at all. His eyes were beautiful, even when they were practically covered by the thick rim of his hat. In those few seconds that your gazes fixed upon each other you took the opportunity to really admire his chiselled features, particularly the sharp shapely facial hair that lay against his skin or even the thick, dark strands of hair showering around his face that broke from the ponytail behind his neck.

“…4, 3, 2, 1. Guess you better saddle you and Uncle up, Javier.” His round finished falling just short of your seven-lap score. He jabbed the knife into the wood and let out a defeated sigh.  

“Uncle, will you go and saddle up Boaz and while I get changed?” Javier’s question wasn’t met with an answer, not even the typical Uncle groan that we’d all become accustomed to whenever Uncle was asked to complete a chore. The usual spot Uncle slept at all day under the oak tree was vacant, until a stumbling and slurring Uncle emerged from behind one of the wagons, a new whisky bottle in hand.

“I ast’ that gal to give me some…ring dang d-” Uncle collapsed to the floor at your feet mid-song and immediately began loudly snoring whilst clutching at his whisky like he wanted to buy it dinner and take it to bed.

Your first thought was the inevitability of doing this job with Javier alone, and this realisation gave you immediate butterflies. Although you hadn’t been on many jobs before this, you were glad this one would be with Javier. He’d always been the nicest to you, and you had held a large soft-spot for him since day one, otherwise you wouldn’t have assisted Hosea in teaching him English.

“I’ll go and saddle up.” You groaned, stepping over Uncle and making your way to the hitching posts whilst trying to conceal the little smile that threatened to spill from your lips from Javier’s eyeline. Oh God, why did this man make you so blush and nervous? It’s pathetic.

Part 2

[morgan-macguire]

Uncles Tip

Arthur Morgan x reader

Summary: Arthur decides to check out a robbery tip from Uncle. Reader sets out to join him

Warnings: one swear word, a ton of dialogue and uhhhhhhhhh I don’t think anything else

A/n: this is the second fic ive written for rdr2! I hope you like it :)

p.s.: constructive criticism is always welcome :)) 

masterlist 

(Not my gif)

You waited anxiously for the two of them to finish their discussion. Dutch had mentioned to you that he was going to ask Arthur to go check out a possible lead and you planned to join him. After what seemed like ages, Arthur finally stepped out of Dutch’s tent with a sigh before making a beeline to his horse. You ran to catch him before he got on. 

“Are you heading out?” You asked.

“Yeah, Uncle heard there’s going to be an unguarded Coach passing through in just a bit. It should be an easy hit.”

Your eyes lit up, startling Arthur slightly. You were itching to get out of camp, washing clothes and helping Pearson cook all day for the past two weeks had nearly driven you insane. You needed to get out and get some action. 

“Can I come?”

Arthurs mind immediately raced to every possible way this could go wrong. You could run into O’Driscolls, Murfree Broods, the law could be involved, and he didn’t even want to think about what could happen if it was a set up. Arthur cringed at the thought.

He would never forgive himself if you were hurt while out with him.

“I don’t know about that, y/n..”

“Why not?”

“You could get hurt.”

“You said it would be easy.”

“Yeah, but the tip came from Uncle.”

The two of you shared a short laugh, glancing across the camp to where Uncle was asleep against a log with an empty bottle in his hand. Big surprise, as Arthur would occasionally joke. 

Arthur’s attention returned to his saddle as he began to fiddle with the small bag. 

Your grin morphed into a pout and your arms came to cross over your chest.

“You brought Sadie into town and shot up a buncha O’Driscolls.”

You almost laughed out loud when his surprised eyes darted to you, before he made a failed attempt to mask the expression. Almost. 

Arthur caved relatively quickly, rolling his eyes with a shit-eating grin.

“How’d you find out about that?”

“I’m not stupid, Mr. Morgan.”

He nodded in agreement, waiting for you to continue.

“Please, Arthur. I really want to do my part here. I won’t let you down.”

Arthur knew the second you brought out the pout that he was done for, he’d always had a soft spot for it, but he still hated the idea of putting you in harms way. Arthur kinda sorta trusted Uncle, in a ‘I’d go steal a herd of cattle with you if you asked’ way, but he sure as hell didn’t trust Uncle’s robbery tips. Not even a little. 

 ‘Have a little faith,’ Dutch had told Arthur. ‘This could be an opportunity to bring the camp some good money’

Arthur was beginning to regret agreeing to check out the coach. 

“Alright,” he sighed, “but only because I’ve seen you with a rifle and your aim is better than half the gang’s.”

“Better than Lenny?”

“Don’t push it.” He grunted, closing the saddle bag.

Arthur’s heart swelled as a melodious laugh escaped your lips. Although he’d never admit it to you, or anyone, it was his favorite sound.

“So I can go?”

He nodded curtly.

“Great!” You cheered, moving to yank your skirt down as you whistled for your horse. Arthur went wide eyed, mumbling a quick, “woah.” He respectfully turned his head away, cheeks burning pink. 

You chuckled, shimmying the fabric down your legs, revealing a new pair of blue jeans Sadie had picked up for you. “It’s fine, you silly man.”

It was now Arthur’s turn to laugh.

“You’ve been keeping those under there all this time?”

“I’ve been dying to get out.”

“Alright. Are you ready to head out?” Arthur asked, patting the rear end of your horse. He liked how soft your horse was.

“As ready as I’ll ever be.” 

He admired your confidence, especially since you two were going to check out something Uncle dug up. 

Even though he knew you didn’t need it, Arthur helped you hop on top of your horse. He climbed onto his own soon after, gesturing for you to follow him. 

“You know, Mr. Grumpy Pants, that looks good on you.” You called out.

“What does?”

“A smile. I sure would like to see it more often.”

Arthur was glad you were riding slightly behind him, because his cheeks were burning again.

“Well if all goes well here, you just might.”

[thewaterisblackwithvenom]

Really in thinking about the major gangs of RDR2 though, like... why does it seem like no one ever talks about the Skinners Brothers. Because holy sh*t.

Like. In the grand scheme of things the Van Der Linde gang isn’t worth even mentioning. They mostly target big heists, and just to petty theft and what not. Yeah, you could be a target, but at least with them you’ll pretty much just get shot. 

But the Murfree Brood, O’Driscolls, Lemoyne Raiders, Del Lobos, and Skinner Brothers are all like. A serious threat. I’ll admit I’m not that knowledgeable on the Del Lobo gang, but from what I know they sound like your classic Cowboy Outlaw Gang. Riding through towns causing hell, shooting up people, looting, etc. But like. We know that the O’Driscolls are full of rapists, and Murfree Brood has fun by torturing people, and the Skinner Brothers are pretty much like the latter, but like... on a terrifying scale.

Idk if it was rockstars intention, but like. Whenever there’s anything Skinner related, it’s with an insane amount of men. Like literally, where the actual f*ck do they keep coming from? Oh my god just DIE already. That in itself isn’t what’s so f*cked up to me. The part that f*cks me up is that the Skinners, imo, are the most brutal, f*cked up individuals. Scalping, dismembering, disemboweling, roasting and flaying people alive. And there are hundreds of these motherf*ckers. You see enough things in game that really just... holy sh*t. Honestly if I was John, I’d nope tf out on Beechers Hope. I’d be so f*cking petrified they’d get Abby and/or Jack. John is a kick*ss outlaw, but there are hundreds of deranged murderers living in his neck of the woods for the time being. I dunno man. It just f*cks me up to think about. When my brother was playing through the epilogue I was so caught off guard, because they’re so f*cking over excessive. It’s like. They literally found every single f*cked up torturer and threw them in one area. Maybe it was just our experience, but. Man. They like killing in the slowest possible way and they get such a kick out of it. It’s really f*cking unsettling.

I mean look, if you’re killed you’re dead. I know this. But like. If you’re gonna die one way or the other, I for one would greatly prefer to just be shot in the head or chest or w/e than having to endure torture beforehand. Yeah I get “but as long as you’re alive there’s the hope of rescue” but for me personally? F*ck that sh*t this is the wild west. You’re lucky if someone happens to pass by that choses and successfully saves you. So I’m gonna opt for a quick death.

[dalekofchaos]

Red Dead Redemption remake

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Keep Irish as a sidekick throughout the Mexico section

The confrontation between John and Bill should be longer

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

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

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

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

[juniper-tree]

Um how am I supposed to pick just one. I'd love to hear more about 'Hurricane' and/or 'Deadeye.'

I've got a little "Hurricane" over here.

"Deadeye" is a working title for my western. I'm obsessed with this thing, okay? It's a dark romance: sad girl and pretty outlaw, he really should kill her (for reasons) but he just can't, she counters that he could kill someone for her instead, and there's money in it, too.

Is it just filed-off Red Dead Redemption fanfic? Actually no, but if you like RDR fanfic, you will like this!

She had her arms folded tight, a sad look on her face. The lantern light winked off a pearl button at her throat. Her hair was gold and rosy, pinned up at the sides. He wanted to run his fingers through it, through those waves that fell across her shoulder.

When she caught Will staring, her skin flushed, like a ripe, white peach. He watched her watching him. Watched her breathe, her chest rising, soft and slow.

Staring at her, he forgot what a sorry bastard he was. How dirty his fingers were, so calloused and chapped they’d get caught on all the rosy silk of her hair. That a girl like her—so clean and sweet and untouched by the rough life he had chosen—was worse than his imagining, or some painting in a rotten saloon.

She was as real as he was, and that meant she would hate him. He couldn’t do a thing to change it.

It was nice to forget all that, just for a minute.

Will could forget it again, with her there in the road across from him, so close. He’d already come too close by bucking at that old bastard with her. If he’d been a smarter man, more measured like Jacob or calculating like Mal, he wouldn’t take one step closer to her. Closer towards something he could never have.

Well… everybody always said he was an idiot.

He stepped out of the shadowy corner, below the awning of the bank building, and into the road. She was only a few feet from him. The flush in her had changed, red and harsh where earlier it was a soft pink spread. Her shining eyes were trembling, trying not to cry.

“You okay?” he asked.

She stared at him like a wary cat. “I’ll live,” she said, though she sounded unsure of it.

He took a step closer, almost without meaning to. “What’s got you so full of hellfire and tears?” He tipped back his hat. “Who’s that man to you?”

After a few quiet moments, she said, “He’s my uncle.”

“Shit.” Will kicked at the dust. “You want me to kill him?”

A shocked laugh escaped her. It was a high, pretty sound. Will smiled. He liked hearing her laugh. It meant she didn’t take him serious. Because he was. Quite.

She studied him again, different this time, not so wary. Still like a cat, a curious thing. “Who are you?”

There was a strand of stray hair stuck to her cheek. The gold in it glinted in the moonlight. He wanted so very badly to brush it from her face, to tuck it behind her ear, to let his fingers fall against her soft neck and feel the warm throb of her heartbeat there.

His hand ached to do that. His fingers twitched.

“Don’t matter who I am,” he said, his jaw tight. “You get home. And stay safe.”

Her mouth fell open, but he turned his back to her before she could speak. It would only make it harder to leave, if he knew what was on her mind.

As he walked away, his hand twitched again.

It was a funny instinct, one he’d only ever had when he was fixing to shoot. The hand seemed to think as fast as the eye. It had never been a notion of wanting, of caressing.

It was a cruel hand, not a loving one.

thank you for the ask!

[neon-junkie]

Bill😌

How I feel about this character BIG BAD BILL WILLIAMSON. I love him!!! I got attached to him on my first play thru, and then felt AWFUL when I had to kill him in RDR1. I can understand why people don’t like Bill, like I get that he’s been taught to be racist and says slurs, but we’re playing a game that’s set in America 100 years ago. Ofc there’s gna be racism and all that in there lol. I just wish people would address his quite obvious mental issues first, like PTSD, and being an alcoholic before they start attacking him.  I’m loving his character in the first game. It’s nice to see him running his own gang and doing so well for himself, even if he is literally just running around causing soooo much chaos to everyone. And he lost weight? wowza!! Go on you funky little drama king, I support you.

All the people I ship romantically with this character I do love me some Kieran/Bill and Javier/Bill, especially RDR1 Javier and Bill. I also pair him with Micah as a friends with benifits kinda way. I also don’t ship him with Javier in a mushy way, more of like a ‘two guys who have known each other for so long and accidentally randomly catch feelings after hooking up drunk one night’ kinda way. Kieran is the only person I kinda romantically ship him with. 

My non-romantic OTP for this character I guess Micah/Bill goes in this section too? Could you imagine if Micah somehow survived and was stood alongside Bill in RDR1? oh my. 

My unpopular opinion about this character Just like Dutch, Bill isn’t a villain. He’s a pesky outlaw, yeah, but all of the gang are. I think Bill can be considered a villain in RDR1, but I’ve never really viewed anybody as a villain in RDR, apart from America itself, cause that land isn’t fair and sadly, everybody clashes, since everybody is just trying to do their job and survive.

One thing I wish would happen / had happened with this character in canon. More interactions with Jack. Jack still calls Bill his uncle in the first game, so he must have really had an inpact on that kid. Maybe him, Jack, and Cain could have done something together? :( cause I know Cain gets along really well with the two of them?!

[lisinfleur]

Better than Mead

Author’s Notes | I decided to follow Hvitserk’s line in this kink because I think Ubbe would be more like “just to help his wife” for real. Hvitserk seems to be more the type to use the “helping my wife” excuse to feast from her breasts and satisfy his kinky needs. Universe | Vikings Pairing | Hvitserk x Wife! Reader Info | Viking Age AU, requested by anon for 5CW1 Words | 1248 ⁑ Warnings: NSFW, SMUT included, breastfeeding kink. +18

It finally started.

After three years of constant breastfeeding, your first son Dir was finally stopping to ask for your breasts, exchanging the suckling moments for different meals and even sleeping without the last moment of the day.

You knew it would come and you were happy to see your little man growing up; but it was also painful for you since, without Dir's constant hunger to dry your breasts out, they were starting to be totally full at night, when he finally was suckling them before sleep.

But not this night.

Dir played for so long with his father and uncle Ubbe that he came back from the training camp totally exhausted. A bath and he was already sleeping when Hvitserk placed your son at his bed, covering your sleeping little one.

This way, without Dir to relieve your pain, you were trying a warm bath when Hvitserk came back into your marital room, seeing the painful expression in your face while you were washing your rounded breasts into the warm water.

"What is happening, wife?" he asked.

As always, his eyes were looking more at your breasts than at your face. But it was a habit since you got pregnant: Hvitserk couldn't deny his desire for the curves you earned with your pregnancy. And you could do nothing but thank Freya for blessing your body that way.

But your breasts were really hurting enough for the minimum movement of the water around them when Hvitserk got into the tub cause you to wince, hissing; worrying your husband even more.

"It's nothing serious, love." you answered "Dir didn't suckle on me today and my breasts are full. This is painful," you explained, noticing the way your husband seemed interested, coming near.

"So, you must have them dried for you to feel better, right?" he asked, more curious than the usual, causing you to giggle, already understanding the ideas in his mind. "What? I'm curious!"

"You wanna try, don't you?" you asked, with a joking smile in your face that caused him to feel uncomfortable, almost ashamed.

It wasn't your intention, but your reaction kinda pushed Hvitserk away and he got up, annoyed.

"I saw Ivar suckling on my mother until he was almost six. I was just curious. But let it go, keep taking your bath, I'll go to bed." he said, bothered.

Finishing his bath and leaving you behind.

You knew it wasn't something he would admit so easily: Sigurd until mocked on his brother for the suckling thing and he would never give his sassy brothers a reason to mock on him as well.

But the truth was his help would be a good thing for you and after all, what was the problem of trying something new in the intimacy of your room?

You dried yourself and laid by his side, naked, softly embracing his warm body. Your lips ran the crook of his neck in little kisses causing him to sigh, relaxing from the tension of the moment before you spoke in his ear with a smooth voice.

"Do you think you can help me, husband?"

Hvitserk slowly turned himself to you, insecure.

But your smile caused him to relax a little more, trusting you weren't joking with his fantasies.

"Would you be a good husband and help your sweet wife, Hvitserk?" you asked, inviting him into your arms and observing with desire when he licked his lips, excited.

"I think I can do it for you," he said, coming near "Just for help..." he justified, causing you to smile when he lowered his body at the bed, sliding down enough for his head to be in the right height.

His hands touched one of your breasts, causing you to whine as he tried to find the right position. But your whines soon became moans of pleasure and relief. Hvitserk's warm lips wrapped around your nipple and started suckling your milk, relieving your pain and provoking a delicious sensation that practically melted you in between your legs.

Your moans encouraged him and he gave up on his shame, embracing your waist with one hand, sliding the other to touch your pussy, leaving to you the task to hold your swollen breast for his mouth to feast hungrily.

His fingers started rubbing the bud between your folds, while his lips were provoking snapping sounds against your breasts.

You never felt so horny. The sensation of breastfeeding your hungry husband was inexplicable and you came easily, wetting his hand and throbbing around his fingers, causing him to unstick his lips from your breast to moan, in pleasure.

"Fuck... You're so hot, (Y/N)! So fucking wet! I never felt you so wet for me before. And your milk is so sweet..." he praised, licking his lips and sucking your juices from his fingers before sitting with his back against the headboard of your bed, pulling you to straddle his lap.

Your breasts in front of his face as he slowly sunk his hard cock into your wet entrance. Your walls still throbbing from the recent orgasm while he pulled your hips down, rolling his hardness into you deliciously.

"Give me more of your milk, my sweet (Y/N)," he asked, rocking his hips up into yours as he nuzzled his face eagerly in your bouncing breasts. "Feed me, I'm hungry of you, sweet wife," he praised, opening his mouth for you to softly land your other nipple in his anxious tongue.

Once again, his hungry lips wrapped around your hardened nipple, suckling rhythmically. Moans of pleasure and satisfaction in the back of his throat to each sip of your milk that filled his mouth while your wet pussy was tightly embracing his horny shaft.

Soon you felt your husband's hands gripping your hips tighter and his hips rocking harder against yours, slapping his pelvis against you. The tip of his hardened cock hitting your cervix multiple times, sliding through all your sweet spots in the way to the bottom of you, causing your moans to fill the room when you came around his hardness one more time before he filled your body with his seed. Your milk escaping through the corner of his lips he didn't take out of your breast not even to moan the pleasure of coming inside of your tight channel.

Even after both of you came, Hvitserk kept suckling your breasts one after another, alternating with his mouth from a nipple to the other, until you were totally relieved and there wasn't any more milk for him to suckle.

When it happened, he kept licking your nipples, passionately cleaning the traces of milk from your dried breasts, caressing your body with kisses before coming up to kiss your mouth.

"From this day on" he started, caressing your relaxed body over your bed, speaking with a satisfied tone "Whenever Dir doesn't want to suckle, I want you to come to me. And when Dir stop suckling, I will fill you with another child, so your breasts will always be full of this delicious milk for me to enjoy".

You giggled with your eyes closed, still feeling Hvitserk's mouth kissing your breasts when you prepared to sleep. Thinking about his idea to never let your milk dry.

"You're better than mead, wife" he praised, laying his head on your breasts to sleep, satisfied.

With a big boy like him suckling hungrily the way he was, for sure you would have milk for a long time.

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[blustersquall]

I can just picture this beautiful moment at the end of the big fight. Arthur’s laying on the mountain, watching the sunrise, thinking it’s his last. His watches as long as he can, until regret and pain fade away to acceptance and peace, and his eyes start to close. The last thing he sees is a shadowy figure start to approach. Then he wakes up safe in bed because like hell Isabels just gonna stay behind. Because you have to be loyal to what matters.

sorry it took me a while to write this, Nonny. I really loved this idea of yours and wanted to work on it. I don’t think it’s as good as it could be. I think I lost steam, so I apologize for that. But I really love this idea and wanted to write something for it. So I hope you don’t mind.

Yes, this is fix-it fic.

End of game spoilers within. You have been warned!

@ineedpeetalikehekneadsbread @rdr-oc-appreciation

It’s finally over.

All the lies. All the killing. All the pain… it’s done. Finished. 

Every breath was agony. Arthur could hear the pronounced wheeze, how it rattled around his body. His voice was raw, shredded from the running and the violent coughing fits. The taste of blood lingered in his mouth and he could just about hear the sound of gunfire moving further and further away. 

The Pinkertons… going after Dutch? Or Micah? Not John he hoped. Prayed - for the first time in perhaps his whole life, he found himself praying to whatever God existed that John would get away and get out of this life. That he would be safe, reunited with Abigail and Jack and be able to begin his life.

It was strange to think that this would be it. He would die here on the side of this rocky hill. In less than an hour, the scavengers would find his corpse and he would be a meal for the coyotes and vultures. If that was the case, at least he was good for something in the end. 

Sun started to peek up over the distant mountains. Thin threads of gold, orange and pink bleeding into inky blackness. 

He regretted so much, and there had not been enough to time fix everything. He wished he’d seen through Dutch sooner. Seen through the lies and manipulation. Seen the real man Dutch was, and not the man Dutch pretended to be. He regretted the loss of so many good people to Dutch’s schemes and greed. Jenny, the Callender boys, Sean, Lenny, Hosea… God, he regretted Hosea’s death most of all. Regretted not spending more time with him. Not ever letting him know how much he valued him as a friend and father figure. 

Had Hosea known what deep admiration Arthur held for him? He hoped so. 

Dwelling on the regret wouldn’t change anything now. Hosea and the others were resting. They were at peace and soon Arthur hoped to join them. To welcome at soothing numbness and give in to it’s enticing embrace. 

He had thought he would fear this… the inevitability. That when the time came, he would be afraid of what lay beyond when he closed his eyes for the final time, and when his heart ceased to beat. There was no fear though. There was something else. Acceptance? 

He accepted that this was the end for him. This was going to be it. He lived a bad life. Did terrible things. But he tried… in the end, he did. 

Had he succeeded in making up for past transgressions? Arthur doubted it. He would need two lifetimes to make up for all the pain and misery he caused. But he tried, and that mattered.

And he had touched other lives. Met and loved good people, too. Hosea. Tilly and Mary-Beth. Susan Grimshaw, the stern mother figure to everyone who deserved a more peaceful end than the one she got. Mrs Adler, a braver woman he had never known, nor one quite so ferocious. Reliable and noble Charles Smith. He enjoyed laughter with Karen, even thought on Uncle with fondness. He saw in Jack the son he lost. Saw in what John and Abigail had the life he could have had, once. 

He had loved. Not once, but twice. 

Mary. That first blush of love. That young true love that never went away, no matter how much time passed or what happened between them. That love was always there. He hoped she would be happy. That she would find a new life and a husband who could give her everything Arthur could not. 

Isabel. His new love. A love that barely got a chance to bloom into what it truly could have been. He loved her in a way that could never compare to the way he loved Mary. Isabel was a match to him. A piece to him he never knew was missing. She helped him see he could be more than what he was. Helped him realise the truth of who he could be. That he was more than what Dutch would have had him be. 

He imagined her back at the cabin. Hunting, tidying, making it a home for them… A home he would never see. He prayed she would not hate him for not coming back to her. Prayed she would forgive him for dying. She must have known he didn’t want to. 

His eyes were growing heavy. The threads of sunrise were more beams now, forcing the night sky to recede. The beams shone over Arthur’s face. They warmed him. It was still a sensation is broken body could recognize. He did his best… he knew that, and he could die well, knowing he at least tried. That was enough for him. He could close his eyes and rest now. He could welcome the embrace of silence and rest…

The texture beneath his hands was soft. Not spring grass soft, but soft material. Cotton, or linen? That Arthur could feel anything at all was a surprise. The last thing he remembered was the sun rising, the warmth on his face. He remembered closing his eyes and waiting for oblivion or utopia, whichever he would find.

Now, he was confused. 

The material under his hands. He could move his toes, and his fingers, and his chest was clearer than it had been for months. He could breathe without pain… There was still a wheeze, but breathing came easier now. He sharpened his other senses before daring to open his eyes. 

Smell. He could smell herbs. Ginseng and yarrow, and something else he couldn’t place. And he could smell steam. And logs. Logs burning on a fire.

Fire! He could hear the crackling of one not far away. The song of a bird somewhere never sounded quite as beautiful as it did at that moment. He wasn’t alone, either. Under the sound of the logs and the birdsong was movement. Feet. Booted feet scuffing the ground. 

Arthur began to open his eyes, afraid to do so. Afraid that if he did, all the familiar sounds and smells would disappear and he would be faced with a fiery pit. 

The world around him remained in tact. He stared up at a log cabin ceiling. Beside him was a small table, with a pestle and mortar on it. That was where the smell of herbs was coming from. The fabric around him was a blanket. Soft and warm and familiar…

This didn’t make sense. Where was he? Why was he still alive? How was he still alive?!

Arthur tried to sit up, but his body refused to obey his commands. He groaned when his chest tightened, and he began to cough. Arthur quickly covered his mouth determined to catch any blood as he sputtered. The wheeze was there, but less pronounced. No blood stained his tongue or his hand when he moved it away. There was nothing.

Distracted by his coughing, Arthur did not notice another body join him until he opened his eyes when the fit subsided. Sitting on the edge of the bed was a woman he recognized, but was puzzled to see.

“… Am I dead?” asked Arthur, his voice rasping from lack of use.

“Not yet.” Isabel replied with a small smile. “Though you certainly came close.” She came towards him and assisted him in sitting up. She positioned some pillows behind him to support his back. “You didn’t seriously think I’d let you go off alone, did you?”

Arthur opened and closed his mouth several times, willing words to come out, but unable to find them. Isabel reached down to the floor and retrieved a plain metal cup and a jug of water. After pouring a drink, she mixed in some of whatever was in the pestle and handed it to Arthur. 

“Drink up, it’ll help.” 

Arthur did as she said. The water was warm, and the herbs only added a hint of flavor as he downed the cup in a few gulps. His throat felt better for it, but it did little to quell his confusion.

“I don’t understand.”

“I gave you half a day head start.” Isabel explained, holding the jug between her hands. “I went up to Beaver Hollow. I hid out, waitin’ for you to return with the others. When the Pinkertons arrived, I stayed hid…” She looked down at the floor, “I heard everythin’ in that confrontation with Dutch and Micah. I never liked Micah, but to think he’d rat to Milton…”

“I don’t wanna think about that.”

Isabel leaned forward and curled Arthur’s hair behind his ear, before cradling his cheek in the palm of her hand. Arthur barely contained a gasp to feel her physically. He was sure this was just a fantasy as he died, a lie, conjured by his mind. He gripped her hand. She was real. Physical and real and there in front of him. 

“I saw you escapin’ with John. Saw you tryin’ to hold of the Pinkertons… Saw Micah. The exchange with him, an’ Dutch.” Her voice hitched, and Arthur could hear a quiver in her breathing. “I wanted to step in, I did. But–”

“I’m glad you didn’t.” Mustering what little strength he had, Arthur moved as close to Isabel as he could and nuzzled her forehead. “I wouldda never forgiven m’self if somethin’ happened t’you.”

“I ain’t never lettin’ you outta my sight again, Mr Morgan.” The smile he heard in Isabel’s voice was enough, but he saw the relief the one on her lips contained. “I met Charles up at Beaver Hollow after… everything. He helped me get you back here to Hamish’s cabin. An’ Rains Fall gave me some herbs and tonics t’help with your tuberculosis. It ain’t a cure, but he said it’ll help the cough and slow the symptoms. We’ll need t’get you somewhere warm and dry to really try an’ fight it, but… it’s a start.”

“A damn miracle.” Arthur chuffed. 

“Was touch an’ go for a while there,” Isabel retreated from him, sitting straight. “You been out for a week or more. I been feedin’ you broth. Talkin’ to you… I was worried you wasn’t going to wake up.”

“I didn’t…” Arthur stopped. “It don’t matter now. I am awake. An’ alive.”

“Yeah,” Isabel nodded, “you is.” 

They looked at each other from across the small distance between them. The spark that had always been there crackled, and Arthur wanted nothing more than to take her in his arms and express how grateful he was with words and actions. He was too weak to move though, he knew that. Too weak and bruised to do much more than sit. 

“You got a lot of healin’ t’do now.” Isabel informed him. “I’ll be on you like a rash if you try an’ push yourself, Arthur Morgan.” She got to her feet and ran her fingers back through his hair, “it’ll take time. First thing we’ll do when you’re strong enough is get you bathed… and do somethin’ about that beard.”

“What am I meant t’do in the mean time?” asked Arthur, kissing the heel of Isabel’s hand before she was too far away from him. 

With a small knowing smile, and without answering him, Isabel went from the bedroom area of the cabin and around the corner. Arthur waited a few moments until she returned. She carried a leather bound book in her hands, pens, and pencils. 

“You didn’t have your satchel on you when I found you.” Isabel said, handing the items to Arthur. “So, I asked Charles to get a new journal and some things for you, on my behalf.”

Arthur flicked through the blank pages of the book. They were crisp white, pristine, and perfect. Not a mark, or a blemish. Not a single imperfection. 

“Thought it might be nice for you t’have a fresh start.”

Putting the journal down in his lap, Arthur nodded his head smiling a little up at Isabel. “Yeah. That sounds good.”

So yeah. Arthur still has TB, but now he’s not running around trying to fix everything, he can actually take time to try and fight it and build up his strength. And nice new journal, metaphorical new start, yay!? metaphors!

[scarfacemarston]

John Marston Caring for Sick Reader HC

Note: I think the way he’d care for you would change depending on where he is in life. John before Chapter 4 of RDR 2 isn’t as kind or selfless as he is later in the game. By rdr 1, he’s a very different man than he was when he was twenty-six. Link to part 1.    Arthur’s post. Charles’ Post. 

* Just because I think it’s cute: child John is super protective of you, but he doesn’t want to make it look like he cares. Think Damian Wayne from DCU. He’ll drop off a cup of tea or coffee on the table by your bed and hide behind a tree to see if you take it.

* At night, he’ll sit by your tent, but he’s not guarding it. No way. You kiss him on the cheek when you’re feeling better. He’s definitely not blushing. Never.

*As an adult, he still has that caring heart deep inside of him, but he’s still a little insecure about showing it. Fast forward to about 1906 and you couldn’t ask for a better husband.

* John is extremely perceptive. He’s always observing his surroundings and watching over those he loves. Like Arthur, his eyes will narrow on you the second he hears you coughing or notices that you’re not eating as much.

* He’s a little gruff than Arthur is. He still loves you with all his heart, but he is far more likely to drag you to the doctor than Arthur is. John just wants you to get the best care possible.

* He’s actually rather strict but acts this way to hide his anxiety. He’ll carry you off to bed and have someone like Uncle or Jack watch over you.

*He’ll rush through his chores and will either do your chores as well or delegate the rest of the chores.

* He’s been known to run into town at strange hours of the night to fetch whatever it is you need, even if it’s only the food that you are craving.

* Not the best cook, but he thinks that he is a better cook than Abigail was. He tries his best. Funny enough, Uncle is the best cook in the house, but he tries to keep that to himself.

* He’ll pull up a chair and sit by your bedside, holding your hand. When you wake up, you see him glaring into the distance.  He’s already lost too many people in his life to illness. He can’t lose you, too.

* In a moment of weakness, you asked him to hold you. He does so without a second thought. It’s no surprise to either of you when he becomes sick a few days later.

[scarfacemarston]

Arthur’s Puppy HC 2 ft Marstons and Everyone at Camp

Continuation of the first! I think I featured everyone. Let me know if I didn’t.

* Hosea doesn’t mind having the puppy be a lap warmer. Claims it helps his joints.

* Uncle claims the dog will hurt his lumbago, not help it. However, he has been seen with the dog sitting on his lap, anyway.

* Miss Grimshaw was a bit exasperated by the idea of a dog in the camp. She warmed up pretty quickly, though.

*Pearson doesn’t hate it per se. He just doesn’t like how the dog acts like a dog. (Wanting meat and such.)

* Sadie just gives the dog more treats just annoy Pearson.

* Arthur sometimes has troubles getting work done because he wants to play with the dog. Mary-beth, Karen, Abigail and Tilly have no problem taking the dog and spoiling it with pets.

* After seeing the dog with the ladies, Sean tried to take it with him to town to impress the ladies. Arthur raced after him the second he realized the dog was gone. Sean nearly got punched. Javier and Charles then scold him saying, “I told you it was a bad idea”.

* Kieran loves the dog to death. He likes to vent to the dog and tells him secrets

* Micah avoids the dog at all points after the incident.

* Jack loves Arthur’s dog. They’re best buddies. The dog always goes fishing with Arthur, Jack and anyone else who wants to come. 

* They play together for hours which always tires Jack out. Abigail really appreciates this.

* The dog tends to be a bit of an emotional support animal at times. He can comfort Jack during his panic attacks, Bill after his nightmares, Abigail after a fight with John, Molly after an argument with Dutch, and Kieran when he’s feeling anxious.  * The dog is the most loyal to Arthur though. He will always sense if Arthur’s depressed or anxious and go lay by him. 

* However, John takes some time to warm up to it. He never really liked dogs until later in life due to getting bit as a child. 

* He just groans when Jack starts begging for a dog.

* With enough begging, he eventually tells Jack that he’ll think about it. He thinks that’ll be the end of it.

* It’s not.  John eventually rescues a dog of his own and sheepishly asks Dutch and Abigail if he can keep it.

* Jack helps with the begging. Dutch knows he should say no, but he can’t say no to them. He just sighs and mutters “I guess”. Dutch then makes an announcement saying, “No more dogs! Two is enough!”. 

* Abigail says, “Fine, but he ain’t sleeping with me!”. The dog sleeps with Jack much John and Abigail’s relief.

*She is happy that Jack will have a friend to play with and to help with his anxiety.  * Pearson wails in the background that he has to deal with two beasts. Sadie just cackles. 

* Arthur would pick up the dog and make the dog wave while saying “You have a buddy, now!”.