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#screw you john marston
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"RDR2 just shows John's character development!"
Right, character development. You mean how Rockstar literally admitted to giving his entire character to Arthur so players wouldn't miss playing as him?
Because that's what happened. Look it up.
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manicmarsupial · 1 year
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So Close
Another piece of the size-shifter Hosea AU I'm working on with a friend.
Agent Andrew Milton closes in on the Van Der Linde gang.
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Agent Milton was having a good day. He was getting closer to eliminating the Van Der Linde gang. Although he felt it was too lenient of him to offer Morgan his freedom if he turned in Van Der Linde. To be honest with himself, he would have ordered Ross to shoot Morgan had there not been a child going fishing with the notorious gunman. He would have concocted a story about a fight and Morgan was shot in self defense. Both he and Ross would be rewarded. He could honestly say he kept his promise that the outlaw ‘won’t swing’. That plan went cock-eyed as Morgan was unwavering in his loyalty, a fact Milton both admired and cursed. If Morgan hadn’t been so protective of the little child, Milton would have rescued the poor boy from a life on the run.
Milton’s informant within the gang wrote to tell him the next camp spot was in Dewberry Creek, or so they were trying to convince the leader. Not particularly fond of staying outdoors himself, but an easily flooded creekbed in the open seemed rather stupid. If Van Der Linde were to actually consider it, Milton would seriously doubt the man’s intelligence.
Fortunately, Milton decided to take a look at the place himself. Luckily he did, as it was empty. Another letter received from his informant told him Morgan and some other deluded soul by the name of Charles Smith had found another place nearby called Clemens Point.
In hindsight, it wasn’t the best idea to have a bloodthirsty idiot like Micah Bell as an informant. While he had managed to convince Der Linde to rob the ferry, he’d also massacred most of Strawberry just for his guns. Milton wondered if he should have tried to utilize one of the ladies of the night instead. They were just whores after all. Playthings to please the degenerates. He could get them out of that life. The more he thought about it, the more he mentally kicked himself for not coming up with that idea sooner. But what’s done is done.
Admittedly, there was a time Milton would have gotten as many agents as he could and stormed the campsite, but he was no longer young and stupid. He had a family. If he did a reckless assault, he’d lose his job and his family would have no income. Walking straight into the lion’s den was only risking his and Ross’ own lives. If the savages opened fire, he’d die with honor. He would get a posthumous award and the agency would provide for his family. That was the worst case scenario. Either outcome he was surely to go down in history for breaking up a notorious gang without bloodshed.
Once again, loyalty screwed him over. He tried to persuade Van Der Linde to come quietly, even giving the rest of the gang three whole days to split up and vanish. Van Der Linde was willing, but Milton and Ross found themselves staring down the barrels of a dozen guns. Admittedly, Milton blew his top. He’d been more than generous with his offer of freedom in exchange for Van Der Linde, but these degenerates refused him. Next time, he wasn’t going to be so forgiving.
The disappearance of Bronte was the least of Milton’s concern, though there were more Pinkertons in Saint Denis now. More importantly, the Van Der Linde gang was going to rob the bank. The actual city bank. Bell had told him it was going ahead. The old man was going to create a diversion, and while the local law was distracted, Dutch’s boys were going to rob the bank. As Milton wrote back to Bell, he’d be lying if he said he didn’t contemplate not sending the letter telling Bell to wear something that stood out so his men didn’t shoot him. Bell replied simply: “white suit.”
Luck was on the agent’s side. He’s seen the old man pass by. Although it went against every fibre of his being to let the dynamite explode, it was imperative he leave it alone otherwise all his effort would be for naught. At least the old man was considerate enough to set it off in an unpopulated area.
As Milton sees the old man undoubtedly making an escape, the agent emerges from the darkness of an alley, resisting a chuckle at the theatrical side of it.
“Well, as I live and breathe, Hosea Matthews, conman and the co-founder of the Van Der Linde gang,” he drawls, mocking a hick accent.
“Andrew Milton...I’d say it’s a pleasure, but I’d be lying,” Matthews replies with fake sincerity.
If Milton has to resort to shooting this man, he would almost feel bad about it. Shame such a talent was wasted with degenerates.
Whatever way this plan went, either Matthews would be dead or Van Der Linde soon would be. Without the leader, the gang would fall. If Matthews dies, Van Der Linde would be so overcome with grief that he’ll destroy the gang himself. It was too perfect.
Milton’s brought back to reality by a chuckle that’s not his own. Matthews shouldn’t be laughing, especially when a gun is trained on his back.
“What’s so funny?” the agent demands.
“You really have cotton wool between your ears, Moron,” the conman laughs, the sound slowly getting deeper.
At first Milton dismissed it as a trick of the light, but it wasn’t. With every step, Matthews was growing taller. Milton hurries to fire his pistol, only for Matthews to whirl around, clamping a serving tray-sized hand around the agent’s own. The now rapidly growing hand clenches tighter. Milton restrains a scream of pain as he feels his fingers contort and crack around the gun. He’s yanked up into the air, pain coursing through his arm.
“Who told you about us?” Matthews thunders.
The impressive buildings of Saint Denis barely reach the giant’s waist.
“If I tell you, will you let me go?” Milton pleads.
“I won’t kill you. Deal?” Matthews smirks.
Knowing that’s all he’ll get, Milton agrees.
“Micah Bell. Since Blackwater. Set up the ferry job to catch Van Der Linde. Promised I’d keep the bounty hunters off his back ‘til Van Der Linde was caught. Give him a blank slate in return,” out of sheer panic, Milton can’t form complete sentences.
Matthews scoffs; the gust is almost gale force for Milton.
“I knew that bastard couldn’t be trusted.”
“Are you going to let me go now?” Milton stammers.
“We had a deal.”
Matthews rolls his eyes.
“I said I wouldn’t kill you. I’m holding up my end of the deal.”
Dark fabric walls ascend above the agent as Matthews releases Milton’s crushed hand, dropping him into a pocket. He counts what’s left of his blessings that he landed softly as the darkness suffocates him.
“Now you stay right there, Andrew,” Matthews laughs, patting his pocket with his enormous hand, slamming Milton against the giant’s body.
He feels sick, both from the pain of his smashed hand and the sudden rocking motion. Matthews’ footsteps thunder along the streets of Saint Denis, no doubt causing property damage.
“Ah, Miss Roberts. Would you like a lift?” Matthews booms, presumably asking one of the trugs.
Milton feels the downward motion as Matthews crouches down, causing the agent to roll forward in the pocket. He tumbles back as Matthews stands.
Milton can hear the muffled faint screams, recognizing Henry McDavy’s scottish brogue yell “I resign my commission!” The screams get slightly louder, followed by a shattering crash. Milton jumps as there’s a loud bang like a boulder falling. He hears more screams as the pocket tilts.
“I’ve caught our rat,” the calm tone of the thundering voice chills Milton to the core.
“How’d you know?” Dutch’s voice sounds far away.
Milton is almost blinded as light streams in, only for the shadow of Matthews’ colossal hand to intrude. He shuffles back to avoid the reaching tree trunk sized fingers, to no avail as he’s grabbed around the waist. His struggles are futile against the immensely strong fingers. He glances around, catching sight of Bell in Matthews’ other hand, wrapped in a fist.
“You didn’t mention Matthews was a giant, Mr Bell!” Milton shouts.
“He’s lying,” Bell snarls.
Unheeding of the argument, Matthews drops both back into his jacket pocket.
“Time to go,” Matthews’ voice rumbles above like thunder.
Milton glares across at Bell, the throbbing pain of his damaged hand nothing compared to the anger he felt toward the hot-tempered outlaw.
“You didn’t think vital information like this would have been crucial to my investigation?” Milton snaps,
“I didn’t know,” Bell snippily replies.
“He’s not exactly invisible like that,” Milton retorts.
There’s a jarring motion as Matthews starts walking. Milton uses the momentum to punch Bell with his good hand. Bell predictably fights back dirty, but Milton has experience. The two continue fighting while being rocked about.
Bell had bitten Milton on the arm several times and nearly chomped his ear off. Milton retaliated by breaking Bell’s nose and knocking out some of the outlaw’s teeth. The agent staggers as a cool sensation and a feel of vertigo make him dizzy and sick. When light stings his eyes, his honed reflexes help him avoid the giant grasping fingers. Bell, with his frantic flailing, manages to sink his teeth onto one of the digits. The enormous hand quickly withdraws.
“One of them just bit me,” Matthews laughs, the resonating sound rattling Milton. 
He doesn’t have time to avoid the hand again and ends up enclosed in a fist. He tries not to vomit as he’s rapidly brought up to the immense, craggy face of Matthews. The giant gives a frighteningly large smirk before looking at some point behind Milton.
“Hey Dutch, got a present for you,” Matthews bellows, dropping Milton into Dutch’s waiting hands.
This was decidedly not a good day for Milton.
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wizard-on-whales · 3 months
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Modern AU! for rdr2 characters
These are my headcannons for each character and what I think they would do in modern times.
Characters included: Arthur, Micah, Dutch, John, Abigail, Mary-Beth, Karen, Tilly, Sadie, Strauss, Charles, Susan, Bill, Lenny, Hosea, Sean, Molly, Javier, Swanson
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Arthur Morgan: 
He works a blue-collar job. He would most likely be a ranch hand, but for some reason, I can also imagine him being a plumber or welder. In his free time, he does art and sells prints on Etsy. He is still an old-fashioned gentleman (In a good way), and all of the ladies he meets swoon for him, but he is a himbo and doesn't realize they are practically in love with him. They will give him the most obvious hints, but he will think the women are just being nice. 
Micah Bell:
He's the creepy uncle that you avoid at every family gathering. He hasn't had a job in like 15 years, and no one knows how he can still pay his bills. And he also always smells like lingering alcohol and cigarettes. He will lean too close to his nieces and say extremely concerning things everyone would choose to ignore. Im also getting the vibes that he went to prison for several years, but no one knows what for.
Dutch Van Der Linde:
He sells people scams or owns a pyramid scheme business. Similar to Scentsy products, he somehow convinces all of these people to buy his products to sell to other people, telling them they will get rich by selling these products, but, in reality, he's screwing them over and making most of the money himself. 
John Marston: 
If we are talking about early Red Dead 2 Marston, he still lives in his parent's basement and plays video games on his PC all day. He also watches Andrew Tate and would try to boss Abigail around and tell her he's an alpha male. (She'd slap him and tell him to get over himself) Late rdr2 and rdr1, he's grown out of that mindset and has become a working family man. Potentially also a welder, like I said for Arthur. But any high-paying physical job works.  
I feel like Abigail, Mary-Beth, Karen, and Tilly would all have a mom group they host every week to discuss their child's newest achievements. Their husbands think that is all they do at the meetings, but they also have in-depth conversations about women's suffrage and how the world caters to men. They think of ways to better the world and bring more women together to discuss these topics and bring light to issues regarding women. The girls would run a pretty popular Facebook group where they let other women express their opinions on those topics. (Arthur is a part of the Facebook group and likes every post he sees and comments shit like, “You're doing great, ladies! Keep up the good work! 😁🥰👍”) 
Sadie would probably occasionally attend these meetings (Although I dont see her having children, she would go for the cheap wine and to hang with her friends). Sadie would also go for the in-depth conversations and bring new thoughts to the table because she is a CEO or manager for a very successful company. She would share her experiences of what it's like to be on top of the men who work for her but still be looked down upon by them simply because of her gender. She would also probably share tips on that Facebook page on how to create a successful business without having to attend years of college and give tips for all stay-at-home moms who want to be more than just moms and wives. (She would also be the cool rich aunt)
Leopold Strauss: 
He would do the same thing. He gives loans to people who he knows won't be able to pay back the money, and then when the bill comes, he'd ruin their lives and probably end up breaking up families/ relationships and send people to jail for not paying back the money in time. 
Charles Smith:
I can see him being a park ranger or working in any conservation field. Potentially even a firefighter who deals with all of the forest fires that happen in places along the West Coast. He’d also be one to do something similar to what he did in the game, but he would work with the local native tribes against companies to try to win back their lands before it gets plowed over for an Amazon factory or something. 
Susan Grimshaw:
I can see her being the mean substitute teacher who yells at everyone to get to work, and then when someone does something slightly wrong, she would yell at the whole class and be like, “In all of my years of teaching, I have never seen a class behave this badly.” Either that or she would work at the front desk of the business Sadie runs. Miss Grimshaw would NOT play with anyone who would try to be rude towards her. 
Bill Williamson: 
Ehem…a police officer. I feel like this one is self-explanatory. But he would mostly sit in his car and do nothing his entire shift. Occasionally pulling someone over for speeding. If they are a white dude, he'd would let them off with just a warning. Poor Lenny would probably get the ticket. 
Lenny Summers: 
I feel like he would be the one to graduate high school early and go to college as soon as possible. I dont know exactly what he would choose for his degree, but I feel like it would be something involving politics. Maybe that wouldn't be his major, but he would take a government class. Or Potentially going into journaling. 
Hosea Matthews:
He's the retired grandpa who used to work in a factory where he made a surprising amount of money and was able to retire early. He spends most of his days walking up at 5 in the morning to watch the sunrise and read the morning paper. And he’ll spend every opportunity he gets to take his kids or grandkids fishing. And if you stay at his house overnight or for the weekend, he gives you a bowl of ice cream every night before bed and recounts every story he could think of that happened from the last time you saw him. (Some of them are surprisingly concerning, but he is one of those badass grandpas)
Sean Macguire:
Similar to John, Sean would spend most of his time gaming on his PC and arguing with children on COD or Fortnite. But he also works at a local bar as the bartender and won't hesitate to argue with the drunk assholes and would slap a bitch if needed. But he also embarrasses himself by flirting with women who will give him dirty looks or tell him that they are gay. (I feel like Karen would also work late-night shifts at the bar with him, but shes also taking online college classes because she wants to be a social worker) 
Molly O’Shea:
Instagram and TikTok influencer 100%, and lots of brands like to sponsor her and send her free stuff (Mostly because of Dutch’s business.) and she posts videos of her and Dutch, and everyone in the comments freaks out about how he is grooming her because of their age difference but she denies it all and says that they are actually in love.  But then she would post a video to that one sound, “My god this reminds me of when we were young.” And Molly be like 8, and Dutch be in his mid-to-late 20s. 
Javier Escuella: 
He’d be a musician. He would have started out in a shitty garage band with Sean and John or something, but then he’d realize he actually wants to be a serious musician while the other guys were just messing around. So he’d leave and make solo music that blows up, and he ends up going on tour, and making a lot of money and becoming hugely successful. 
Reverend Swanson:
The preacher you always see in the corner of the bar Sean works at. And if you went up to him and started talking to him, he’d tell you the most profound things. He would tell you about his life when he was younger and what happened that made him lose hope, but he would motivate you to never give up. He’d be that person you meet by chance for a few seconds that you would never forget. Hosea probably invites him to go fishing with him from time to time. But instead of fishing, Swanson stares at the water ripples in silence. Hosea would let him sit in silence and let Swanson enjoy the company and the time to think while being sober. 
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imdefyingmavity · 1 year
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Arthur, to Charles: I'll be here for you 24/6.
Charles: Not 24/7?
Arthur: Nah I have to reserve one day to rescue Marston from whatever shit he's in that week.
John, in the background: Screw you!
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pryce0 · 1 year
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Hair - John Marston x GN!Reader
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gif by: unknown
summary; reader really enjoys john’s hair, and he doesn’t understand why.
word count; 452
notes; epilogue era, but abigail and john are just co-parenting. third person pov, john’s internal thoughts though.
masterlist: here
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John never really pointed it out, but he could tell you liked his hair. He never understood why, it was always knotted and greasy, no matter how many times he would attempt to brush and wash it. He always found your hand brushing the strands of hair that fall in front of his face behind his ear, only for them to fall back into place with the slightest movement.
You always seemed disappointed when he got a haircut, too. John doesn’t prefer his hair one length or another, but constantly traveling from one climate to another really gets the back of his neck sweaty. Although, he would never allow his hair to grow past his shoulders. John did find himself putting off the haircuts, but of course he wouldn’t admit that, nor tell anyone. Depending if he’s feeling self conscious, he secretly enjoys the attention you give him. Swiping the hair behind his ear, taking his hat off to properly fix his hair for him, it’s a touch-starved wet man’s dream.
“I don’t know how you do it,” John said with an exasperated tone to Charles, who was currently sorting through the instructions for the ranch. Charles glances at John with a confused look, standing up straight. “Do what?” He questions, situating the papers. John motions to his own head, grabbing some strands for reference. “Keep your hair so long, I mean,” John begins, tilting his head to the side a bit so his hair moves from his sweat soaked neck. “I can barely handle it at this length.” John mutters, his gloved hand wiping away the sweat from the back of his neck. Charles hums from John’s comment, putting the papers down on a stack of pre-cut wood for the ranch. “I don’t mind the hair touching my neck,” Charles answers. He glances around which makes John raise an eyebrow. Charles turns back to him with a subtle, yet cheeky look. “You don’t seem to mind keeping your hair long if it means [Name] is happy.”
John’s jaw drops in astonishment. Charles managed to read him like a book, but before John could retaliate, a familiar voice comes from behind him. “John, Charles!” You call with a smile in your voice. John turns around to see you carrying some boxes of screws after Uncle managed to look the ones that came with the kit. “Welcome back, [Name]. Are those the screws?” Charles asks, taking the boxes from you. “Yeah, got ‘em from the same guy, too. Should be good enough.” You answer. You then turn to John, your smile widening. You reach up and touch his hair, murmuring, “Looks good on you, Marston.”
John never wants to cut his hair again.
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cwbylikeyou · 6 months
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hi, welcome! 🩷
I’m Dina. I like writing, you probably like reading, we are meant for each other. Jokes aside. I’m a 18+ writer, been in college long enough to have my mind screwed, so… :(
My requests are open, but I’m a very terrible person at sticking with my tasks, so maybe I’m gonna take longer than normal to fulfill them.
I write for: 🩵 MORTAL KOMBAT & ❤️ RED DEAD REDEMPTION.
🩵 — Basically any character, send me your request and I’ll decide.
❤️ — Arthur Morgan, John Marston, Sadie Adler, Dutch van der Linde & Abigail Roberts.
REQUESTS ARE OPEN.
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highpatia · 7 months
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author’s note. me when friends-to-enemies-to-lovers and miscommunication trope (0.750k)
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“Was thinkin’ about you out there in the frost” he confesses, with lousy grace. It surprises you almost, John Marston was not one to grant you closeness— much less courtship. He lays stiff on the rickety cot, it’s drapery caked with years-old dust. It creaks under his weight as he manoeuvres himself to lie down comfortably. You offer a quick scolding hum of breath, to avert him from re-opening any wounds.
“Why’s that? No concern for yourself as your bein’ attacked by wolves?”
“Well not then, but when I was laying there alone n’ cold. I was tryin’ to think about what you’d be thinking about.”
“For what reason? You thought I was scared?”
“A little. I was thinking how’d you react if I was found dead, would you be sad? Would you beg for forgiveness? Or would you continue like I wasn’t even here in the first place.” He doesn’t really think that, not really. He’s just trying to get a rise out of you— and it appears to be working.
You scoff and stand up from the tottering stool, your face screwed up with aversion. It’s practically routine now. Ever since John Marston vanished from the camp that rainy-winter night, you haven’t really forgiven him since— considering the fact that he left a woman bearing his child to raise it on her own. But with Abigail’s pregnancy, you knew she wouldn’t always be alone. Of course she had you and the rest of the gang members for support, she didn’t need John. But you did, even when you didn’t want to acknowledge it. John’s disappearance left you gutted like a thanksgiving pig. Sure, Abigail’s pregnancy hurt your pride but the reality of John clearing off like he was offered salvation from living hurt your soul.
John acts as though he majorly understands your inner turmoil, and you hate him for it. He lays there beaten, fresh wounds ripped open his face and he stares wilfully at you. Subsequently branded by one of nature’s beasts of prey, he still acts like a reigning gladiator.
You assess him quickly, he is physically vulnerable right now but you can’t keep disregarding the truth. Pulling your woollen shawl closer to you, you step back and begin walking to the door.
John splutters, eyes now wide with shock as you turn back to him in confusion. As if your departure is causing him more physical pain, he groans out like he has no words. In an act of apparent desperation, he declares an ultimatum.
“Wait!”
To wait for John Marston is to wait for the earth to orbit the sun ten times over.
“I ain’t tryin’ ta make you mad, I’m just trying to.. figure out what’s wrong— what I did wrong.”
His confession leaves you star-struck, you can’t help but laugh in shock. Not under any circumstances, not even for riches or liberation would the wanted outlaw, John Marston think that he did something wrong. And that he was trying to do something about it.
“What you did wrong? What didn’t you do wrong Marston. You ran off! You left Arthur, you left the woman mothering your son, you left me! I never thought you’d come back and then you did and act like nothing happened, you expect everyone to fall over for you and do nothing for it!”
To hear a pin drop is silence, and you definitely brought it. Due to your accidental outburst, your now not-so-secret secret was revealed— and now finally, he understands. He now understands so well that it blinds his commonsense. He sits up hastily, as if you’d be snatched from him if he was cautious with it. The bandages wrapped around his torso strain against his movements as he stumbles to you. In quick thinking (or lack thereof) he positions his calloused hands on your reddened face and pulls you lips to his unyieldingly, not too harsh to force you into it— he leaves enough space for you to back up if need be. Yet you can’t bring yourself to do it, he is gentle. The most gentle you’ve ever seen him, it frightens you almost. Like he’d reach around and stab you in the back if it was his goal, but he doesn’t— he would never.
He pauses and pulls away, you almost want to chase after him but holding yourself back you look at him expectantly. He hasn’t smiled ever since his injury, but he does now.
“I’d always come back to you.”
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The legendary cougar is more stressful than regular cougars but you know what they say tenth times the charm
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setaflow · 4 years
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“Arthur is the best equestrian of the gang; horses adore him” John could literally walk dozens of miles into the desert and whistle in the middle of goddamn nowhere, and a fully-saddled horse would come trotting up to him in ten seconds flat all ready to get going. Horse Girl Arthur Morgan walked so Horse Girl John Marston could sprint.
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a-libra-writes · 3 years
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The Gang Reacts to You Dressing Fancy for a Job
“Is it okay to ask for the RDR2 gang (or just Javier if it’s too much!) seeing their crush all prettied and dressed up for a job (like the riverboat or Bronte’s garden party)? Would they work up the courage to ask them out? your writing sustains me”
YAAALLLLL THIS LONG AS FUCK BC THIS! IS! MY! RASPBERRY! JAM!
In this imagine, you’ll be impressing: Arthur Morgan, John Marston, Dutch van Der Linde, Hosea Matthews, Sadie Adler, Micah Bell, Charles Smith, Bill Williamson, Javier Escuella, Sean MacGuire, Lenny Summers, Kieran Duffy, Tilly Jackson, Mary-Beth Gaskill, Karen Jones, Flaco Hernandez
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ARTHUR MORGAN
Oh no. When you were volunteered for the job, he had a feeling you’d look charming in one of those big hooped gowns, but … this is like his heart getting hit by a train. The feelings are a little overwhelming, so while the girls add their finishing touches, Arthur tries to stand to the side and not stare. He wants to compliment you, because you look absolutely stunning, but words are completely failing him. Arthur manages to get a compliment out, but you’re totally occupied with how much you love or hate this get-up. Arthur doesn’t even care about what he was forced to wear; he could be in a paper sack and he wouldn’t notice. During the party, he’s distracted by how you seem to float around the room, easily joking with the guests as though you were one of them. Hosea has to knock sense into Arthur more than once, but how can he pay attention when there’s a literal angel in front of him?
When the gunfight breaks out, Arthur is at your side right away, pulling you into his protective embrace and trying to steer you out of the house. It doesn’t matter if you’re a good shot or not, that dress and corset are cumbersome as hell and he’s gonna stubbornly send you home. Arthur wants to be the one taking you back, but he has to stay and fight. He hands you off to Sean, warning him to be careful and get you back to camp in one piece. His tone is actually pretty scary when he says this. Arthur is beyond relieved when he finally gets back. You’re out of the dress, but you’re clearly safe and comfortable, not a scratch on you. He doesn’t care about his own injuries, but he’s pleased when you fuss over them.
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JOHN  MARSTON
No way John is gonna dress up like some goddamn banker, but he was totally ready to tease you about having to squeeze into a corset and frilly dress. The problem is, you’re gorgeous in it. He doesn’t know shit about women’s clothes or fashion, but something about the color and style just suits you so perfectly, like it was made only for you. He wants to give a sassy comment, but he just … can’t. John goes for a genuine compliment, but his cheeks and ears are tomato red as he mutters “ya look real nice”. If you hate the clothes, it’s a little easier for him to joke around with you, but if you love them and you’re twirling around, as happy as a kid and looking like an actual lady from one of those fancy paintings? He can only take so much sweetness before he has to duck his head and distract himself with something.
When the gunfight breaks out at the party, John is right by your side before you can blink. You don’t know how he moved so fast, but soon his arm is around your waist and getting you back to his horse. John isn’t the most graceful about this, and the dress is meant for dancing, not riding… so it ends up ripping as you two make your escape. Once you’re in a safe place and you can get out of the damn thing, John’s attention goes straight to the tears in the dress, specifically the one that’s showing the stockings and garterbelt you had to wear. The lingerie looks fantastic - it definitely awakens something in him.
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DUTCH VAN DER LINDE
First off, he is not sneaky. Not at all. You know exactly why you were asked to play a role in this little con, and it was so Dutch could see you all dressed up. Now, either you’re totally annoyed by this because screw frills and lace, or you’re delighted because you can dress up like some fancy lady and rob rich folks. Also, it’s pretty funny how he pretends not to be interested in the sort of dress and jewelry you and the girls are deciding on. You know he’s trying very hard not to make a suggestion, and just to be a little mean, you made sure he was within earshot when you mentioned the matter of corsets and fancy undergarments to the girls.
Once at the party, Dutch plays at being some rich banker and you’re his young foreign wife. It’s absurdly easy to pull off, even with your terrible accent, and after each conversation you both are trying not to laugh. He’s definitely liking being able to have an arm around your waist and being able to lean in and whisper to you, but he won’t push his boundaries, especially if you’re already uncomfortable being all dressed up and powdered. While you two are dancing, he’ll whisper in that deep voice, praising you for how perfect you’ve been, or reassuring you that it’ll be over soon. When the shooting started, Dutch pulled you to a safe place you could lie low in, but if you bothered him enough he’d hand you a gun and let you join the shootout. 
Back at camp, Dutch’s flirting hasn’t dulled in the slightest. He’ll sit close to you as everyone else celebrates, mentioning how wonderful you were and if you need help slipping out of anything. If you let him, he’ll help unlace those fancy boots, even massage your poor ankles and calves since you aren’t used to wearing tall shoes. Isn’t that thoughtful?
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HOSEA MATTHEWS
Nearly all of this con was his idea, and you’re glad to help run it. Hosea is playing the part of some eccentric philanthropist and you’re a grand-niece or some relative. The two of you talk so smooth and fast, easily working off each other, that the hosts of the party don’t stand a chance. Hosea wants to avoid any sort of violence, but knowing the gang, who knows what will happen, so he wants you to stay close to him. During lulls in conversation, when you and Hosea are just observing the crowd and deciding who to speak with next, he’ll lean in and whisper something to you. It makes goosebumps break out on your skin, you can feel how warm he is and sometimes he’ll run a hand up your back as he compliments you on what a natural you are, or reassures you that it’ll be over soon. He’ll truly feel bad if you hate having to dress up and pretend like this; so he’s grateful you agreed to come along and help. If you’re thriving off the party and the trickery, he’ll give you knowing grins and winks that make him seem fifteen years younger. There’s a surprising amount of mischief in him. 
When the inevitable fight breaks out (he totally called it), Hosea swiftly gets you to a safe part of the house he noticed earlier. From there you two snatch several stashes of jewels and cash and stealthily make your way out. Hosea had to be convinced to steal as much as you both did; he was terribly worried about you, since the dress would be difficult to run in. When you’re back at camp, Hosea isn’t shy about telling you what a great job you did, and how proud he is. He’ll give a kiss to your cheek and he’s very smooth about offering to remove anything that’s giving you trouble. 
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SADIE ADLER
Thank god she’s not the one in the fucking gown, that’s all she has to say. Well, that, and the jokes and snark she throws your way while you’re getting ready. If you hate the dress just as much, too bad, you were roped into the plan and Sadie is having lots of playful teasing at your expense. If you adore it and start modeling it for her, she won’t admit how cute you’re being… but she will consider wearing a tuxedo and being some “hoity toity” man just to make sure you’re safe. She doesn’t trust the “gentleman” at this party at all, and the closer you both get to the manor, the more antsy she becomes. All her previous humor is gone as she urges you to find her right away if trouble happens. Sadie is absolutely going to bring your favorite gun along and was trying to figure out a way to strap a revolver to your leg until Hosea pulled you away. You promise you’ll be alright, but she doesn’t look reassured. 
The expected fight breaks out, and like you promised, you beeline for Sadie. She’s already on you - how the hell did she get into the manor so fast? - and she’s tossed your gun in your hands. Soon enough you both are blasting your way out of the manor. She gets impatient when you fall for the second time and rips the dress herself so you can run easier. It was your horse she brought around to escape, and Sadie hoisted you up, sat herself in the back and kept shooting while you rode to safety. It was… a hectic and messy escape, but neither of you had a scratch. Once you’re at the camp, she doesn’t feel bad for ripping the dress, even if you liked it. It was necessary, and besides, you can’t keep the frilly thing! Okay, she’ll apologize if you pout. If you hated it she’s more than happy to help you burn it. 
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MICAH BELL
How the hell is he supposed to respond to this? It would be one thing if you caked on make-up like a tart and strapped yourself into some circus tent-looking contraption, he could work with that. His brain just stops functioning for a few seconds when the girls finally unveil the work they did on you. If you hated the dress and it wasn’t something you’d wear unless a gun was pointed to your head, then Micah certainly had choice words to say, teasing and mocking the difference between this and your regular attire… except they were much weaker insults than he usually had. You were too distracted and uncomfortable to even care. If you adored all of it, practically buzzing with excitement as you turned and twirled for everyone, he might even try an attempt at a compliment, although it’d come out all jumbled and flustered. He decides to stay away and just watch you from a distance, both enjoying the view and trying to figure out this stupid knot in his stomach.
At least you two are apart during the party, so he doesn’t have to look at you enjoying yourself and swaying around in that dress. When the fight starts, he can finally have something else to put his mind to … until he sees you get caught in the crossfire. Micah would throw you a gun he pulled off someone, barking at you to follow him. Dutch told him to get you to safety, which he initially bristled at, but then he dutifully put you up on Baylock. He told you to keep shooting while he rode off - and he still got plenty of shots in himself. Once you were back at camp, he wouldn't apologize for dirtying the dress. It had to be done, and now the job is done, so you can get out of it…. and he would absolutely offer to cut it off with his knife. The whole thing, corset and all. He's gonna fantasize about it well after the fact, too.
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CHARLES SMITH
If you love getting a chance to dress up and wear jewels, Charles can tell, and he finds your joy just adorable. If you dislike the idea of having to dress up for a stupid party, even if it’s a robbery, he’s very encouraging and reassures you as many times as you need. This kind of con isn’t really his scene, but he knows you’ll do well and he promises to look after you during the whole thing. He’ll even have you ride along with him on Taima if that'll settle your nerves. Once you arrive, Charles helps you down like a gentleman. If you’re still uneasy, he asks you to wait a moment and then comes back with a rose he picked from the garden. He places it neatly in your tied back hair. “Perfect. Don’t worry, you’ll do great, and when things go south, I’ll be there. Promise.”
Once the fight breaks out, Charles is true to his word and helps you escape in the chaos. You have no idea where he came from, but you didn’t refuse the help, or the gun he offered you - at some point he’d packed your favorite one - and you’re pulled up on Taima as gunshots go off all around you. Charles put you on the front of his horse to protect you better, even if it’s harder to shoot from there. It sort of makes you feel like a princess being swept away. When you two return to the camp, he tidies the rose in your hair and offers to help remove the restrictive dress or massage your legs if they hurt … casually, of course. Probably.
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BILL WILLIAMSON
When the girls finally unveiled their handiwork, he thought his heart was stopping. You were so pretty - well, you normally were, but now more than ever. You looked like one of those porcelain dolls they put in music boxes. Bill didn’t even want to touch you or stand too close, worried he’d dirty you somehow. He couldn’t believe you wanted him to play the role of the bodyguard that would follow you around the party.... Though he played the part well, his silence combined with his big build made him seem intimidating. If you were clearly miserable in the dress and with the company, he wasn’t sure what to say to make you feel better, so he stayed quiet. If you were loving the dress and just thriving in the party, fooling everyone into thinking you were some high-class belle … Well, he was too distracted watching you, still not able to say much.
Eventually he had to split off from you to join the men, which he didn’t appreciate, but he made a point to bring your gun along with his. When the expected gunfight broke out, Bill beelined for you, practically tossing a man that was too close and handed over your gun. He didn’t expect you to be so grateful, it made him blush in spite of the gunshots going off all around you two.
The fight was more dangerous than expected, so Bill hoisted you up on Brown Jack without warning and raced off. Your dress ended up getting ripped from his haste, and if you really liked it, he feels bad for screwing it up. It’s easy to turn around his mood by complimenting what a good “bodyguard” he was. Just don’t flirt too much, he’s already had a mess of feelings today.
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JAVIER ESCUELLA
He was trying to hide his excitement when he found out you were going to be dressing up and joining the others on this con. You’re already an angel, now he’s going to see you dressed in a beautiful gown and decorated with jewels? It fit so perfectly, too, like it was made for you. Javier wouldn’t hide his approval of the outfit, even giving you some suggestions on more comfortable shoes or a better hat. Mary-Beth thought it was adorable and left him to help you out - that made it much harder for him to hide how pleased he was with your outfit. If you truly hated it, he’d understand and would try to reassure you that not only did it look wonderful, you were going to pull the job off perfectly. His warm hands would sit on your shoulders as he said this, hoping you trusted in him. If you’re the sort who loves dressing up and conning, he shares your happiness and will even dance with you a little before you have to leave, relishing in your giggles. 
While the party went off well, with you playing your part perfectly, chaos inevitably broke out. You have no idea where Javier came from, but you were damn grateful that he’d seen you and pulled you into a safe corner. Together you both snuck into the manor, stole as much jewelry as you could carry and easily slipped out the back, gunshots still echoing through the place. Javier grinned as he draped all the stolen necklaces and bracelets on you, asking you to keep them safe for now. You clasped your arms tightly around his torso when you rode away with him, resting your head against his back whenever you got tired.
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SEAN MACGUIRE
He all but jumps out of his seat with delight when he spots you. Mary-Beth is still fussing with your hair, but the corset under your dress has already done all sorts of magic, and the dress itself hugged you like you were meant to wear it. Of course he can’t resist from fawning all over you. He wants to pick you up and twirl you like a princess, but Miss Gaskill scolds him for dirtying the dress and he gets dragged away by the men. For once Sean was wishing he was away from the action and complained enough that they let him accompany you on the carriage - that is, as the driver. Sean didn’t even notice if you were extremely uncomfortable, he was too busy gabbing about the party and saying what a natural you’d be. When you finally have to leave, he takes your hand and gives you a warm smile. “You’ll do great. I know it.” He didn’t realize how comforting it was.
Once trouble began, you were impressed how quickly Sean scrambled to your side, and with your gun no less. Before you could question how he did it, he was gleefully shooting and directing you away from the fight. As much as Sean wanted to stay and end it, he was far more concerned with your safety, you noticed. He swung you up on his horse with little grace, and even if your dress was ruined with blood and mud and your hat went flying off, you laughed as you wrapped your arms around his torso and listened to the wild man whoop and shoot through the escape. Sean would absolutely be the type to help you off the horse and insist on carrying you around camp, bragging about his “rescue” the whole time.
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LENNY SUMMERS
God damn it, he already thought you were cute! Now you’re gorgeous and he’s way too bashful to say anything about it for a while. He’s thankful for the girls fussing over you and the boys dragging him off to discuss the plan, because being around you is too distracting and makes his thoughts short-circuit a bit. He’s normally fine with talking to you! And it’s just a dress, so what’s different? If you really loved the outfit, you’d be a natural in it, and Lenny would find your enthusiasm and confidence very attractive. If you clearly hated it, he’d want to comfort you somehow, but would worry about coming off wrong. It’s a shame you didn’t like the outfit, because you looked fantastic in it. Before he had to leave with the boys, he’d pay you a compliment. “You’re gonna do real well, miss. Um, you … you really fit the role.”
He has a good sense of when things will go south, and when Lenny felt the tension in the air, he made a point to find you in the crowd. Ones the bullets started flying, he found you before you even made sense of the situation. Lenny would rather get you to safety right away, but if you want a gun, he ain’t denying you. All his previous nervousness would be gone as you both would shoot up the place, then find a horse to escape on. Lenny wouldn’t feel that shyness again until you both got back to camp, when he had to help you off the horse. He’ll immediately start joking about your dirty dress and praising your gun skills to keep his beating heart in line. Lenny feels much better when you’re back in your old clothes.
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KIERAN DUFFY
He was embarrassed enough watching the girls parade you around, pleased with their work, and they had every right to be - you looked even more beautiful than the women in the magazines. It’s like you walked right out of them. He felt bad if you were forced into the role, knowing you probably hated the whole get-up, but if you absolutely enjoyed it, he was enchanted by how you seemed to beam with happiness. He’d only seen you like that a few other times, and he was pleased to commit it to memory. When you’re getting ready to leave, he can’t help but give you words of encouragement. He can’t imagine you’ll do anything but shine at the party. 
Kieran was tasked with staying behind at the camp, as he expected, but at least he was trusted to hold a gun and stay on watch duty. His thoughts often drifted to you, wondering if you were doing well and if you were sick of the party or having the time of your life. When he heard powerful hoofbeats, he snapped at attention, readying the gun and calling out... only to recognize your horse and your silhouette. Your dress was a torn mess, but it was still restrictive, so Kieran wasted little time in helping you down. “Miss, are you alright? You aren’t - is that your blood or someone else’s? Alright, good. C’mon, sit down here.” 
You told him about what happened at the party, how things got out of control and you had to flee in a hurry. The boys were likely splitting up to shake the law off them. Kieran was so relieved you were alright, his heart was hammering but outwardly he was calm as he helped tie your sprained ankle and get you some water. He wasn’t his nervous self at all, tending to you and asking questions with confidence ... until you pointed out you needed help getting out of the corset and dress.
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TILLY JACKSON
Tilly was initially in charge of “acquiring” the jewelry and accessories you’d wear, but she ended up shooing the other girls away when they kept suggesting ridiculous hair and make-up ideas. She didn’t care what lady’s magazine Karen read, Tilly wasn’t about to turn you into a side-show act. She was always helping you with this or that, you both relied on each other. She always knew how to reassure you, taking your face in her hands as she spoke softly. “Listen, it’s nothin’ you ain’t done before, just wearin’ somethin’ fancy now. And those boys will do their job right and keep you safe, I’ll make damn sure of that.”
If you hate this sort of thing - dressing up and conning others - Tilly would’ve tried to help you get a different role, but ultimately, you had to do it. She’d give you a softer version of her usual tough love. If you loved it, Tilly would be the one teasing you to get your head out of the clouds. Either way, when you were distracted, she’d threaten the hell out of the boys to keep you safe. Even Arthur would get an earful; if you so much as came back with a scratch, she’d have their hides. If you came back a muddy, bloody mess because you couldn’t resist joining in the gunfights, Tilly would have your hide, too. If you came back mostly clean because you avoided the fight, she’d just laugh and tease you for being so “fussy” - but she was relieved you came straight to camp. The dress and jewels are all sold afterward, but Tilly keeps some bits of fabric to sew you both something. 
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MARY-BETH GASKILL
You have a feeling she’s enjoying this ... a lot. While the both of you were cool as you acquired the dress and jewels to go with it, as soon as you were back at camp, Mary-Beth was giggling and going on about how to do your hair. Soon enough you were dragged off to a tent for privacy and she dressed you up, cooing over your figure in the dress and how nice you looked. She didn’t even notice how flustered you were getting - of course if you enjoyed dressing up, you could share in her enthusiasm and get her advice on how to style it. If you hated it ... Mary-Beth reassured you it looked wonderful, “just like a princess!” Well, that didn’t help, but her obvious swooning was pretty cute. Mary-Beth ended up coming along with the job, dressed up herself and playing the part of your “companion”, since all high-society ladies were about that. You’re pretty sure companions weren’t supposed to be as red-faced or affectionate as she was around their ladies, but you weren’t complaining.
At the party you two were naturals, and what little screw-ups were quickly covered up. If Mary-Beth didn’t know something, you did, and vice-versa. You two were actually quite a team, and you noticed Hosea winking at you in approval from across the room. When trouble was starting, you pulled Mary-Beth aside and you both hastily dug through the manor’s drawers and silver cabinets while the gunshots went off outside. If you needed to defend her, you would, but luckily it didn’t come to that. You were able to steal a horse from their stable and go riding off, Mary-Beth holding tightly and urging you to go faster. You both couldn’t resist keeping two matching bracelets from the robbery.
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KAREN JONES
Karen may not be interested in passing as one of those hoity toity girls, but she’s absolutely gonna help dress you up as one. She’s laughing the whole time, throwing out suggestions and distracting the hell out of Tilly and Mary-Beth as they work. Karen was the one who found the dress, and you’re surprised at how well it flatters you and how the color suits you so well. “Didn’t I say I know how to pick ‘em? Now tighten up those laces! Society ladies don’t have fun!” Karen is quite pushy regardless if you want to do the job or not - if you don’t, she’ll all but drag you to the carriage the boys brought and force you in. It’s a hell of a chance to get a lot of money, and she doesn’t want you missing it. If you love it, that’s all the better! She teases you plenty either way while you’re trying to dress, and gives you a big kiss before you have to set out, not caring who sees. You were long gone by the time she turned on the boys and all but threatened them to bring you back safely.
The party was lonely without Karen, you wished she had been part of the plan so you both could talk together instead of mingling with these insufferable people. Sure, she may have been a little too loud and unladylike... but it would’ve been far more fun. You escaped on cue, making a point to steal a gorgeous stallion as you left the manor behind, listening to gunshots ring out through the night. The boys (and Sadie) were doing their part, so it was time to go home. You had not expected Karen to come riding on your horse with a gun. “Damn it, you were takin’ too long! I got worried...”
She tried to hide how worried she actually was on the way back. She helped you out of the infernal buttons, lacing and corset, and gladly snuggled your aching body. By the time the boys returned to camp, you both had fallen asleep in your tent.
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FLACO HERNANDEZ
You’d mentioned the plan in passing to Flaco, and he was so worried for your safety he came all the way down from that forsaken mountain to make sure it went off well. He didn’t hide that he disliked you working with “that little gang” when you could just stay with him, but that was for another time. While everyone ran around preparing for the con, he watched with great amusement as you were primped and stuffed into a corset and ballgown, whistling at you and making plenty of jokes. You weren’t going to live this down, ever. Once your outfit and hair was mostly finished, Flaco patted his lap and you sat obediently until it was time to go. Even if you hated the dress, Flaco thinks you look beautiful and will tell you so, kissing your cheek and muttering all sorts of sweet things to distract your nerves. He really doesn’t care about showing you off, if anything, he’s amused by your friends trying to look away. 
It was hard not to think of him as the party progressed. You played the role well enough, but soon you were itching to get back to camp. Who knew how long he would stay around before going back to that cold place? The expected gunfight broke you out of your thoughts, and as you made your escape ... you suddenly felt a pair of familiar, fuzzy arms wrapping around you. “I’ve got you now, princesa. Why don’t you come back with Flaco?”
He was able to get you back, but not to your gang’s camp. Flaco had set up his own spot, making a point to bring your horse and your things... the only way the gang knew you were alright is he left word with Miss Grimshaw (after she gave him a thorough ‘questioning’ about his relationship with you).  You better believe he’d help you out of that fancy ensemble, but if you really loved it he’d urge you to dance and spin around for him. It’s a rare day when he sees you wearing something other than four layers, after all. 
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corrynrose · 3 years
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Coming into the RDR2 fandom and discovering that there is a surprising lack of hatred for Abigail Roberts and even people who love her is... distressing. She is so emotionally abusive and neglectful to John. Not to mention manipulative, impatient, all of that. She's constantly talking down to him and telling him that he's stupid and she has absolutely no patience for him to change. He was raised to be a certain way for 26 years, and he's obviously not without mental issues. Every time he screws up, she does nothing but beat him down and get angry with him... it's like one step forward and two steps back and I resent her for it. It's clear to me that John wants to do right by her and Jack... it's also equally clear to me that he had no healthy relationship examples growing up and assumes that this is the norm. I want to see less "I'm glad their relationship isn't perfect!" and more "It's not imperfect, it's unhealthy." John Marston deserves better. ETA: I never said he wasn’t also awful to her. Unhealthy doesn’t have to be one sided and I recognize his behavior is also toxic, hence why I don’t get people praising their relationship. Despite what you may think, I don’t have to like Abigail to recognize that she also deserves better. 
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queenxxxsupreme · 3 years
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Dutch: My name is Dutch Van Der Linde and I am going to tell you everything you need to know about the miserable screwed up world of local government.
Young John: You have mustard in your mustache.
Dutch: Don’t sass me, Marston.
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scarfacemarston · 3 years
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Hi !! Whom do you think was the second love interest for Arthur? For me I think it was Abigail for these resons 1. after you post that audio file about Micah telling Arthur to keep the mask on maybe Abigail will look at him twice ... 2. after Arthur journal entry saying he had married her if she wasn't falling for John Marston...3. After you help Mary in chapter 2 Abigail comes and talk to Arthur about Mary and Arthur replys something like she wasn't the only one with high expectations??!... Sorry I don't remember this one clearly but I am sure you have encountered it....4. there is a chat with Abigail where Arthur says "I sometimes think about the old days seems a lifetime ago." And Abigail reply "sure does" then he says "anyway all behind us now" I mean what old days he was referring that had to include Abigail too??? ALL BEHIND US NOW what does he mean what period of the past is her referring to?
I know that Eliza was meant to be in the game as Arthur's girl, but she was removed from the very start and the cast had said there was 5 hours of the game have been removed including the second love interest lately which confirm it wasn't Eliza .. And for Sadie she was mouring her hasbend til the vey end of the game so I exclude her from being Arthur's second love ... and for Charlotte Balfour I may suspect her for some reasons too cuz of her missions seems weird to me ... Arthur hadn't had any journal entry about her and when you meet her at the second mission but john had said that Arthur had wrote fondly of her?!?! she seems to know Arthur's name but they haven't been introduced to each other until you lastly you meet her in the third mission.. and her mission was the only stranger mission with no name.. this makes me think that maybe they have cut many things from her mission idk .. this also makes me think that maybe aside from abigail she was the second love interest in my opinion.. what do you think??
So I used to believe Abigail was absolutely not the second love interest. I heard people say that in panels, Abigail was not the love interest. However, now that I am finding the audio files, like you said, I’m starting to believe this now. I’ve heard people go back and forth about Sadie and Charlotte being the love interest. I still think Eliza is a big one unless she’s more of just the “baby mama.” I’m confused about what’s confirmed and what’s not because, like I said, Abigail was confirmed to not be the love interest either, so I think there are too many “Official” answers.  Now there is a bit of tension between Abigail and Arthur, but I don’t know. As for the journal, People always bring it up, though I’m not sure Arthur wanted to marry her for himself. I took it more that he wants to take care of her because John wouldn’t. But he does talk about “damn it, Mary; however, I think that can also be interpreted as it wouldn’t be proper to marry Abigail and still pursue Mary. But, as I find the audio files, I think it’s Abigail because there are TONS files about her. It’s mostly Bill and Micah antagonizing Arthur about Abigail. Some of these are rude and NSFW in that they are joking that Arthur wants to screw her. Not joking. Jokes about how they think Arthur wants a blow job, or a hand job, or just straight-up sex from her. It’s extremely demeaning to Abigail, and I find it heartbreaking. Just a lot of disrespect to Abigail shows again that very few people respect her as a person. In the files, they  poke fun at him in general, so there has to be something to it.
Also, about the “The long time ago” thing? In my game, and I posted it, Abigail actually gets quite angry in some games, saying, “I don’t want to talk about the past.”. I honestly think it’s her working days and how not long after it, she became pregnant.  With the exception of that one epilogue conversation with Uncle, which I explained CANNOT be canon, Abigail seems very traumatized by her days as a working girl and I can’t blame her. I do know there are instances of her saying “sure does” in a more gentle way, but the default appears to be her getting upset.  When you antagonize Abigail, she’ll say stuff like, “When are you going to get over this?”
I’m very glad this wasn’t the case because I find love triangles to be:  A. Lazy writing and unnecessary drama.  B. It’s very awkward to think of John and Arthur hating each other over Abigail’s affections. C. Abigail already receives a ton of hatred from the fandom, whether here, on Twitter, or elsewhere. Can you imagine how much worse it would be if she was the love interest:
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tahitianmangoes · 3 years
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Beg Me -Morbell
Pairing: Micah x Arthur  Summary:  Arthur knew there was only one way he was getting out of this cellar... Tags/triggers:Smut Word Count: 2122
Also on Ao3
Micah had only seen Dutch lose his cool twice before. The first time was in Blackwater and even then Micah wasn’t quite sure what had happened but the McCourt girl had ended up dead. The second time was tonight when Arthur hadn’t returned to camp when he should have.
Dutch had snapped at almost everyone in camp, demanding they found Arthur and found him quick if they wanted to keep their balls. 
They split up - Charles and John, Lenny and Sean, Bill and Javier and Micah alone. He didn’t mind going alone, he worked better that way. 
It didn’t take him long to pick up a trail and track Arthur down to what looked like a run down farm. Micah wasted no time dealing with the residents then called out for Arthur.
“Morgan? You here?” “I’m down here!”
Arthur’s voice floated up to him from a cellar that ran beneath the house that was entered by exterior doors. Micah descended the stairs into the small room which was dimly lit by a few scattered candles to see Arthur Morgan tied to a supporting column in the centre of the room. 
Arthur wore only his undergarments, form fitting long johns but his broad chest was bare. He looked like he had been beaten pretty badly, face bruised and lip bloodied. 
Dutch sent them on some search party like he was a lost little lamb and oh didn’t he look so innocent tied up like this?
“Mmm,” Micah purred, “well look at you, ain't you as pretty as a picture?” “Micah? Get me outta here!” Arthur called to him. “Hello old friend,” Micah said with a sneer, “had a good time did you?” Arthur’s head jerked up, recognising the words he had spoken to Micah when he had been incarcerated in the Strawberry jail. “Micah, this ain’t funny.” Arthur said warningly. “Oh I ain’t jokin’, cowpoke… Maybe not funny, no. Maybe a little ironic, I’m sure you would agree?”
Micah leaned back against the damp wall of the cellar and struck a match off of his boot, lighting a cigarette. He drank in the image of Arthur before him, had never had the chance to appreciate how fine his body was; statuesque in beauty, tender skin pulled taut over palpable muscles.
“Untie me now, Micah or I swear you’ll regret it!” Arthur growled, pulling at his restraints with futility.  “I might.” Micah replied as he exhaled smoke, a hint of a dark smirk teasing his lips, “But I want you to beg, Morgan.”  Arthur spluttered, “I ain’t beggin’ you for shit!” “That’s a shame. Marston and Smith went lookin’ elsewhere for ya, pretty sure Williamson and Escuella will be back at camp by now and Summer and Maguire, well, they couldn’t find a whore in a whorehouse… It’s jus’ me here. I’ll tell ‘em I turned the place over but there weren’t no sign of ya.” “You bastard!” Arthur hissed through gritted teeth, straining again. Micah chuckled. “I know.”
Micah smoked nonchalantly, exhaling deliberately as to cast a fog between the pair of them but he could still see the anguish on Arthur’s face while he weighed up the pros and cons of Micah’s proposition. 
“Fine.” He said eventually, “what do you want me to do?” Micah’s ice blue eyes flashed “Beg me.”
Arthur’s expression was mean, his sparkling blue-green eyes were narrowed and full of rage. “Please, untie me.” Arthur said bluntly. Micah’s chuckle bordered on maniacal, “that ain’t beggin’ Morgan. Beg doggy, beg!” “Screw you!” Arthur spat. Micah sighed and stubbed his cigarette out on the wall. “As you wish. I’ll tell ‘em I couldn’t find ya. I’m sure some hungry coyotes will get to you before anyone thinks to come lookin’ for you here.”
Micah turned to leave, ascending the steps of the cellar until he heard Arthur call out behind him. “Ok! Ok!” Micah didn’t turn around right away, he grinned to himself. He knew Arthur would do it. “Micah! Don’t leave me here! I’ll do whatever you want!” He turned slowly, savouring the expression of desperation etched on the younger outlaw’s pretty face. “You gonna play nice, Morgan?” “Yes.” “Good.”
Micah walked back to him smugly and stopped directly in front of him, eyes peering out beneath the brim of his cream hat, eating him up greedily as he licked his lips. 
“Untie me.” “You’re forgetting the magic word, Morgan.” “Untie me, please Micah.” “Now now, Arthur. That don't sound at all sincere to me." Micah said with a hint of mirth in his tone that didn’t go unmissed by Arthur.  Arthur rumbled. "Get me out of these goddamned ropes Micah or I swear I'll rip your throat out!" "Ah, ah, ah. That ain't nice now, is it? Thought you said you was gonna be a good boy for me, Arthur." 
Arthur swallowed hard, swallowing his pride. His cheeks burned scarlet as he said, "please Micah. I'm begging you. Untie me and get me outta here!"
Micah put his head to one side, as if contemplating for a moment. But he wasn't. He'd thought about this before…  Many times before. Arthur at his mercy. When would an opportunity like this come about again?
"Maybe I will, maybe I won't." "But I did what you wanted..!" Micah hummed thoughtfully. "You know, you ain't always been nice to me, Morgan. And I tried, I did, always tried my hardest to be nice to you." "What are you getting at?" Arthur asked suspiciously, shifting his weight as he stood uncomfortably. "Maybe it's time for you to be nice to me, Morgan." Arthur's bright eyes widened, as if he suddenly now understood what Micah wanted from him. Micah reached out and touched Arthur's cheek, his touch surprisingly gentle but the look on his face was devilish.
"On your knees, sweetheart."
Arthur made a strangled sound, somewhere between a curse and a laugh of disbelief as if hoping that this was one of Micah’s sick, twisted jokes. And maybe to a degree it was. But when Micah’s face didn’t change, Arthur knew there was only one way he was getting out of this cellar.
He had no choice but to sink down to the cold stone floor before Micah. 
Micah was hard already, had felt the bulge growing in his pants when he knew he had Arthur with his back against a wall. It was confusing, for sure. When he had first joined the gang he had thought that he and Arthur were similar - both sharp shooters, both men who provided and knew how to get a job done. Yet Arthur had a chip on his shoulder, a real big chip that Micah wanted to knock off. 
Arthur was a pompous ass in a way. Self righteous. Pig-headed. Maybe even dumber than he looked. They say that love and hate are two sides of the same coin. Micah didn’t know about that but he knew that for some reason, he kept being pulled back to Arthur - drawn to him so magnetically. He didn’t know what it meant but he knew it made him hard.
He wasted little time kneading his cock through his pants before unbuttoning and pulling it out. It was average, no bigger or smaller, thinner or girthier than anyone else’s but it got the job done. Right now, the skin was reddened and precum glistened at the slit.
Arthur wrinkled his nose instinctively, drawing away. 
“Come on now, Morgan. You said you’d do whatever I wanted and this is what I want from you.”
Arthur wet his lips before slowly taking Micah’s length into his mouth. Micah watched, a lazy smirk on his lips, at how Arthur had to adjust before he could comfortably begin to suck. There was nothing sensual or sexy about it from Arthur, he sucked as if it was a job that needed doing. 
Micah closed his eyes regardless, he was going to enjoy it for as long as it lasted. He savoured the warmth of Arthur’s mouth, the flat of his tongue on the underside of his dick and the gentle scrape of his teeth on Micah’s oh-so-sensitive skin. The sound of Arthur slurping and gagging sent shivers shooting down Micah’s spine and right the length of his cock.  
“There’s a good boy,” Micah purred. He laced his fingers in Arthur’s golden hair and pushed, forcing Arthur to take him deeper and deeper until he could feel the back of Arthur’s throat. Arthur let out a muffled cry and he bucked against the ropes that bound him but Micah kept his head steady until felt Arthur’s jaw relax as he figured how to breathe from his nose instead of his mouth. 
Micah thrust experimentally, keeping a firm hold of Arthur’s hair in his fist to prevent him from pulling away. He heard Arthur choke but didn’t let him come up for air. For the first time since Micah met him, he was able to silence him. 
He fucked Arthur’s face, the noises were obscene: squelching, gagging and gasping. Micah groaned at how easily Arthur seemed to take him despite the fight he put up, as if he had done this before... Arthur moaned too though Micah wasn’t sure if it was through pleasure.
When Micah looked down, he cursed. Drool pooled at the sides of Arthur’s mouth, dripping down the sides of his face. His sucking had turned sloppier and wet. Arthur had tears streaming from the corners of his glassy eyes and his face was flushed.
He looked up at Micah pleadingly.
Micah pulled out and Arthur gasped and panted. His restraints stopped him from falling forward but Micah could see he was tired. His chest heaved as he tried to catch his breath. 
Micah took his hunting knife from his belt and finally cut Arthur loose. Arthur moaned softly as his arms were freed; Micah could see where the ropes had cut into him. 
Artur gazed up at Micah, seeming dazed. The smirk returned to Micah’s lips, now noticing Arthur’s straining erection leaking through the material of his undergarments.
Micah stroked his cock lazily, looking down at Arthur, “what’s wrong? You want more, doggy?”
Arthur’s cheeks flushed but he didn’t say no. Was he enjoying this too?
“What’s the magic word, sweetheart?” Micah breathed, thumb tracing Arthur’s lips that glistened with saliva and Micah’s juices. 
“...Please Micah…” Arthur whimpered. 
He didn’t need Arthur to beg this time. Before he could consider what he was doing, he was on his knees behind Arthur, wrenching Arthur’s long johns down to reveal his ample behind. Micah let out a low growl, pulling Arthur’s ass cheeks apart and spitting directly onto his hole. Arthur shivered at the sensation of the saliva rolling down to his thighs. 
Micah traced Arthur’s entrance with the tip of his cock lightly, feeling how it resisted him  before pressing in properly. 
Both of them moaned this time, Micah sighed Arthur’s name at the feel of Arthur’s passage eating him up hungrily. His heat was intoxicating, he squeezed around Micah’s cock almost encouragingly. 
Micah began to move. The friction sent sparks of pleasure up and down Micah’s shaft, made the heat in the pit of his stomach start to rise and he fucked faster, pounding into Arthur, the skin of his pale ass starting to redden. 
Micah knew he wouldn’t last much longer but having Arthur on his hands and knees before him, gasping at each snap of his hips, biting back his moans and burying his head in his arms, ass up as if willing Micah to do what he wanted with him was the most erotic thing Micah had ever experienced. 
Micah saw Arthur stroking himself, felt him trembling with impending release, he contracted around Micah so tightly it made Micah’s hips stutter.
“Fuck Morgan, fuck!” Micah spat as he released, fingers digging into Arthur’s hips as to keep him in place so he could spill himself inside. 
He rested his forehead on the small of Arthur’s back, feeling him release too, the trembling coming to a crescendo and his legs shaking before he went limp beneath him. They stayed like that for a few moments. The sound of blood pumping in Micah’s ears was replaced with the evening outside.
Micah pulled out once he softened completely and got to his feet, buttoning his pants back up. Arthur stood too, albeit shakily, his skin still flushed and slicked with sweat and his own spend on his stomach. He found his clothes and satchel across the room and redressed sheepishly.
“Don’t you dare breathe a word of this to no one.” Arthur muttered before he made his way out of the cellar.
“Whatever you say, sweetheart.”
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imdefyingmavity · 11 months
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Jack, during Undead Nightmare: Pa, it's Uncle Arthur! He's one of the zombies!
Zombie Arthur: *breaks down door and lumbers in*
Zombie Arthur: Braaaains! Braaaaains!
John, shielding Jack: Arthur! It's your brother! Please, take what you need from me but leave the boy alone!
Zombie Arthur: *pokes John's head*
Zombie Arthur: I said braaaains, Marston! *nudges him aside*
John: Screw you!
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valkyrie-selfships · 2 years
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The Christmas Ranch : Chapter One
Summary : the start of a story. Georgia Rothbone gets a call she'll never forget and decides to go visit a longtime friend. I said i was gonna write this hehehe Warnings? : nothing tbh Tag list : @tekkai @1980ssunflower @polkadotheart @rebeccaselfships Word count : 1,046
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The sun was shining on an early December morning in the city, and a girl was bustling down the street, in quite a hurry. This was Georgia Rothbone, hustling down the street, coming to an abrupt stop in front of a small storefront, her store. She sold all sorts of things she made, and it was a compliment to her online store, which gave her a boost in sales she appreciated quite heavily.
Her world was a dream for her, she worked on her own hours, she did as she chose to. She spent her day drawing in a leatherbound journal, as the 70s rock pandora station played over the radio in the store. She only took a break for her lunch, or for when a customer came into the store. This was how her life had been for years, this was how her life continued for another week. She was sitting at work when her phone rang. Thr man on the other side of the call sounded exceptionally official. "Miss Rothbone?" "This is she." The woman offered, propping her cell phone between her ear and her shoulder, bustling around to restock shelves." "I hate to be the bearer of bad news Miss Rothbone, but i'm afraid you're going to have to vacate the premises of your store." She stopped in her tracks, hands halfway to the shelf. "Pardon me?" "The company that owns your store has not paid the utility bills in almost six months. Unless you think you can run your store with no heat, no electricity, and no running water, or can come up with a little over four thousand dollars on exceptionally short notice, i'm afraid we're gonna have to shut the building down." "I'm- this is my livelihood. Don't you people realize that? I was barely scraping by selling online, having a storefront that i could sell out of gave me the chance to not worry about paying my own bills!" She sighed, throwing her phone on the counter after putting the call on speaker. "Is there someone I can talk to? I can't lose this store." "They're kicking me out of the store! Can you believe this shit?" Georgia was fuming. She had just gotten off a nearly hour long phone call, which was mostly hold music, telling her that she was being removed from the storefront that people were renting her, because the people were months behind on all kinds of payments, and basically, unless she could get up the roughly four and a half thousand dollars to pay their back payments, she was seven shades of screwed. "So basically, the store is going to be closing, restricting me to just my online sales, my piece of shit boyfriend left me, and I am spiraling, Abby. What am I gonna do?" "I've got an offer. Come spend Christmas out on the ranch with John and I, might give you a chance to clear your head and come up with another plan." It had been three days since she was kicked out of her store, she had her things packed up. She had spent the last three hours staring at the wall in her apartment as it snowed outside, until her phone rang. One of her closest friends was on the other side. Abigail Roberts was one of the first people that had talked to a young Georgia in school, and they were close friends. Until Abby grew up and met John Marston, and moved out west with him. They still kept in touch over phone calls, Abigail keeping Georgia updated on her life out west, sending pictures of her son, who Georgia was absolutely in awe of. Cutest little kid. "So, you're offering me the chance to spend Christmas with you and your other half out on a ranch in the middle of nowhere?" "Pretty much, yeah." "Will you come pick me up from the airport?" "I'll see if I can convince John to let me borrow the truck for the day. It just snowed." Abigail ended her sentiment with a giggle, and Georgia was already looking at plane tickets. "So now, as I see if there's a cheap ticket westward bound, onto my second problem. Good for nothing Alexander decided I wasn't worth the stress." "Well good riddance. If he can't see what he's losing, that's his own damned fault." The call lasted another hour or so, both women complaining about everything they could come up with, before the call finally ended. Three more days and she'd be on a plane, headed west, to spend christmas on the ranch, and hopefully by the time she saw her apartment again, she'd have a plan on where to go from here. At least, she hoped she would. Three days flew by like there was nothing to them, and Georgia was packed and tapping her foot outside gate 3 at the airport. An early afternoon flight a few hundred miles west, into Montana. Where she
would have a chance to re-evaluate what her life had become, and spend some time with a friend who she hadn't seen in person in a very long time. Onto the plane, into her seat. Georgia still had figuring out to do, and figured her time on the airplane was good enough to start. She flipped her laptop open, spending the few minutes it too to turn on after the plane was in the air ordering a drink. The flight attendant was kind, the drink was good, and frankly, Georgia thought alcohol was just about what she needed now. She opened her laptop and the first thing she did, before she even started on the work she had to do to straighten out her business, was a little research of her own. Van der Linde Ranch. Google spit back a handfull of entries right at the top of the results about roping trophies from years past, and then there was the article. She learned a lot. The place she was headed was supposedly ran by a guy named Dutch van der Linde, but he shared ownership with a friend of his, Hosea Matthews. Biggest ranch in America, and despite many attempts to get the land out from under them, Dutch and Hosea were going nowhere fast.
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