Heeeey, I saw your back after taking a break ❤️

I hope you’re feeling better.

I really appreciate your content!!

If you’re up for it, can I request Micah x F!reader?

Complete artistic freedom!! 🤗

Thank you!!❤️ I am doing better now! Micah may be a little OOC

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It's Bell Tradition!

While out scouting for new leads, Micah stumbles across a woman he hasn't seen in several years. Along with that, a surprise he never saw coming.

The air was hot and stuffy down here in Lemoyne. It was to the point that Micah Bell needed the cold relief of the mountains once again, and he never thought he would be saying that after Colter.

However, he did admit that he likes that kind of weather.

Baylock's hooves kicked up dust as he trotted along the less than traveled path out of Valentine. Micah left with little to no word to the gang. Not that anyone cared mind you. However, Dutch likes to keep tabs on his boys, so at least Micah had the decency to tell the boss that he's going to look for leads and won't be back for a while.

Besides, if he brings back something big, then perhaps the others will finally stop complaining about him.

Micah was lost in thought with a smirk on his face as his stallion's clip went from a trot to a gallop in the blink of an eye, kicking up his legs as he went. The outlaw didn't even seem to read his horse's distressed movements until his face was getting smacked by branches. Baylock had run off the track and into the woods.

"Hey! Slow it down!" Micah commanded the steed as he yanked on the reins. However, Baylock was just as stubborn and resistant as his rider. When Micah tried to force him to slow, the stallion bucked him off.

"You good for nothing-!" Micah shouted as the horse took off, cutting himself off as he realized the insult was meaningless. He stood up and dusted himself off, looking around for the cause of Baylock's panic.

However, it was oddly silent except for the occasional wind ruffling the leaves. It made him uneasy for some reason. Micah tried to whistle and get Baylock back to him, but the damn horse paid him no mind.

Grumbling to himself, Micah began to trek through the woods in hope of finding his horse (or the path).

But it didn't take him long to find something. And that something was certainly not Baylock.

At the edge of a small clearing, pine trees were clustered. Wildflowers were speckled throughout the grass along with some large rocks. However, his eyes found a black blur that was bawling near the top of one of the pines, which he now deduced was the reason Baylock freaked out. It was a black bear, probably one that has just been weaned by its mother. The whole world was still so new to it.

Which is probably why it was scared into the tree by a boy who wasn't much older than Jack.

The child was by himself and seated crisscross on the ground below the tree. He wasn't doing anything to harm or harass the bear, but he was continuously watching it. Now Micah would never say he was concerned or worried about the lives of others, but he did find it a little disturbing that the boy seemed to be alone. But he was curious of the situation, so approach the boy he did.

The bear began to bawl even louder when Micah came closer. This caused the attention of the little boy to be shifted. The older man inspected the child, who stared back at him with a same curious expression. He had to be around six or seven with blonde hair and big blue eyes, and there was something familiar about the way he looked. Micah was getting nostalgic, like he's seen that face before.

"Hey kid, what are you doing out here by yourself?" Curiosity got the better of Micah. The boy turned his attention back to the bear in the tree, who was paying close attention to him as well.

"Looking at the animals." He responded simply and without much fear.

"Why?" The older blonde couldn't stop himself.

"I like the woods." It was a simple response and one that was so child-like, but Micah couldn't stop the scoffing. He thought that it was ridiculous.

"Where's your parents?" Micah asked while crossing his arms, eyeing the bear up in the tree.

"My mama is close by." The boy said while holding Micah's gaze. It was as if he was threatening the outlaw to dare lay a finger on him. Just from that confidence alone, it made Micah more curious. Normally, he would leave the child to the wolves. However, there was a nagging feeling in the pit of his gut.

The bear bawled again.

"Get up. I'm takin' you home to your mother." Micah said while gesturing the boy to get to his feet.

"But I'm fine." The child protested in a whining manner, almost seeming fearful to follow the stranger. However, he got to his feet regardless.

"Too bad. See that bear?" Micah gestured back towards the nervous black bear and the boy's eyes followed: "That ain't no adult black bear. That's a baby cryin' for his mother. Now, let's get out of here before we become dinner."

Micah practically shooed the kid away from the tree, hoping his little lie would go unnoticed by the rather smart kid. That black bear was perfectly grown with no mother around for miles. The boy would've been fine to stay there. However, the sun was nearly setting, and Micah still found no lead. Perhaps he could get some money in return for bringing the boy home safely.

That, or he could just rob the house and deal with the mother himself.

It made him smirk.

"Nearly there." The boy said, drawing Micah's attention back to reality. And true to his word, a couple more steps revealed a rough-looking cabin. A black arabian mare was grazing nearby and, much to Micah's surprise, Baylock was grazing next to her. Again, there was something about that mare that struck a familiar chord in him.

"Mama! Someone is here!" The blonde boy cried as he ran away from Micah. The older man followed behind the child as he ran back and behind the house, where Micah could see the ends of some laundry blowing in the wind as they dried. However, when he rounded the corner, a familiar face made his heart stop.

"It's you..."

"It's...you?"

The tone in his voice was so questioning because he honestly couldn't recognize you, not with that boy hugging you from around your waist.

You were a woman he hooked up with several times several years ago. Back then, he was attracted to you due to your rough nature. You weren't afraid to stand up to him and Micah liked that. It got him all riled up, and you didn't hesitate to give him what he wanted. However, Micah didn't have any feelings for you, and he thought you had none for him. So leaving wasn't exactly a problem in his mind. He would never see you again, or so he thought.

But here you are, and with a child no less. Your hair was still the same h/c as it's always been, cascading down your back. You still liked to wear a plaid top with your dress, and your eyes still held a defiant look towards him.

"So...it seems you moved on from me. Where's the husband?" Micah said nonchalantly and quite rudely, gesturing towards the child with a flick on his hand.

"I never married." You told him sternly. Your son held onto you tighter, sensing tension.

"Then where's the boy's father?" Micah nearly growled, but you knew him. It was not an emotional thing. You knew he just couldn't stand the thought of you sleeping with another man. As far as he was concerned, you belonged to him.

"Go inside baby." You told your son as you kissed his forehead.

He nodded and moved towards the back door, holding eye contact with Micah. For some reason, it made the older man feel a bit sick, those blue eyes looking into his own. But it soon passed, and he paid attention back to you, looking gruff.

"So? What happened with the boy?" He cut to the chase, and you folded his arms.

"Micah." You said.

"What?" The blonde said in response and you shook your head.

"My son...his name is Micah." You told him softly yet strongly. The older Micah narrowed his eyes at you, but he was silent. You knew he was trying to process this whole thing. But you weren't done.

"Named after his daddy."

Silence.

The only sound was the wind blowing through the woods and the trees rustling in kind. However, even that soon gave way to silence as if the forest itself was nervous for the reaction. Micah's eyes were just staring into yours, making you a bit uneasy as he gave no hint as to how he was feeling.

But instead of anger like you were expecting, he looked like was going to be sick.

"Hell...are you really saying...?" Micah's voice was weak. It was like nothing you ever heard before. He looked so vulnerable. And when you nodded, it amplified.

"I was told many years ago that it was Bell tradition to name the firstborn son after their father." You said, and this time, his hand went to cover his mouth as if he was actually going to throw up. He felt so sick at this knowledge for so many reasons.

You had his kid.

He didn't know about it for years.

You named it after him. You named your son after him...despite him leaving you pregnant and alone.

"I-I...Why didn't you ever say anything?" Micah said after composing himself, weird feelings swirling in his chest. You scoffed.

"I didn't even think you were still alive. Besides, you wouldn't have cared." You stated with a nonchalant wave of your hand, which caused anger to burn inside him.

"If I knew you were pregnant, I wouldn't have gone anywhere!" He shouted and you winced a bit. Perhaps it was wrong of you to assume, but you knew Micah was not one to form emotional attachments, claiming that they were for the weak. So why should you assume that he would care about a baby? Care about you?

"I mean, you never said anything to me." You said in a general tone, hugging yourself. He knew what you meant. Micah never once showed that he loved you for who you were; just for what you could give. But to be fair, you never showed it to him either. Both of you were there for benefits, and this was the result of that.

"You never said anything either." He retorted in typical Micah fashion. Your eyes drifted towards the ground.

"...I didn't know how to tell a person like you that I loved..." Your voice drifted off as you found his eyes, which appeared softer than you've ever seen.

"You loved me?" He asked, sounding more confused than his typical mocking tone. You nodded.

"I still might." You admitted.

Micah honestly didn't know how to feel about that. If that wasn't his son, he probably wouldn't give much of a damn. However, somehow knowing that you are the mother of his kid gave him a butterfly-like feeling in his chest whenever he looked at you. You were still beautiful and now it made him feel all fuzzy inside. It scared him a little.

"Um...think I could stay the night?" He hated how high-pitched and scared-sounding his voice was, and he rubbed the back of his neck nervously, nearly knocking his hat off in the process.

You let out an airy laugh, which made his chest tighten more.

"Of course." You said, knowing that it was hard for him to talk about how he was feeling. However, you knew Micah well enough to read his body language, and everything was telling you what he was feeling. It was so foreign to him and that's what was scary. You had to be patient.

"Just don't steal anything." You warned in that confident tone that he didn't realized he missed until right now.

"Yes ma'am." He teased back, feeling more like his old self now that all the mushy stuff was out of the way.

You were quick to start to move towards the front of the house as the sun had long since passed, shoulder gently brushing against his as you did so. He breathed in deeply, taking in your sweet scent of roses and juniper that you always seemed to carry around. Micah didn't even realize how close he was following behind until he nearly bumped into you.

"Where's..." Your tone drifted off as you couldn't see your son inside once you opened the door.

"Micah IV." He finished for you with a smirk, causing you to blush.

"I'll find him. Couldn't have gone far." Micah promised before you started to panic. You hesitated a bit before nodding, anxiety rising in your chest. However, you just had to trust this man, which to anyone else, would be absolutely terrifying. You went inside as Micah turned away from the cabin to scan around outside.

Sure enough, he found the little blonde boy near the horses. In fact, he was petting Baylock.

"Hi again mister...is this your horse?" The boy asked as the stallion continued to nudge for attention. Micah nodded.

"You like him?" He asked and a small smile formed on the child's face as he nodded. Micah knew that you would probably be pissed, but he couldn't resist.

"You wanna go for a ride?" Micah asked the boy with a grin. With a smirk that mirrored his own, his son nodded.

Riding through the forest was exhilarating, even more so with his son sitting in front of him. The laughter, the whipping of blonde hair, and the carefree spirit made him feel pride. Soon, they were making their back before you had a heart attack.

"So mister...what's your name?" He asked as he stroked Baylock's mane.

"Micah." The older man said without hesitation.

"Just like me!" The boy said with glee, balling up his little fists with excitement. It made Micah's heart twist a little because the boy still had to know that he was sharing a saddle with his father. But how can you explain that to a child?

"You know, in my family, all the oldest sons are named Micah, after our father." Micah explained and the boy tilted his head a bit. The older blonde looked down at the younger one, who was not connecting the dots very well.

"Micah...what ever happened to your father?" The older outlaw asked the small boy sitting in front of him. For a second, it was just the sound of Baylock's hooves against the ground. The boy looked down and replied in a small tone.

"Mama always told me that papa was always busy which is why he never comes home." He explained, sounding a little downtrodden. Older Micah gripped the reins tightly. Time for an explanation.

"Well...he's home now."

You didn't know what took them so long or what happened while the boys were gone. All you saw was Micah coming in through the door while carrying your son on his hip, who was holding onto him for dear life, fists gripping his leather jacket tightly as he bawled into the crook of the older man's neck. When you asked what happened, you only got a muffled response from the boy.

"Papa finally came home..."

A haunting shot I took near Saint Denis of my favorite antagonist ever. (It’s Micah, everyone. It’s Micah)

Imagine # 1,022

Gifs NOT mine.

If either gif is yours (or you know who's it is) please let me, so I can give you/them credit.

Gif credit goes to - @reddead-confession & @drvigsgf (Unless told otherwise)

Year posted - 2022

*This concept came to me while I was driving home from work, and I both love and hate it. Feel free to expand upon this idea, but please tag me if you do, I'd love to read what you come up with.

Bitter Sweet Goodbye - RDR2 - You Die In Their Arms

Imagine you, as their lover, die in their arms (Fem!Reader)

Characters: Arthur, Charles, Micah, Dutch, Hosea 

Warnings: Graphic depictions of violence and character death, mentions of Chapter 4, use of Y/N and L/N

If anyone has any writing requests or want to see any other characters/scenarios please let me know! :D If you rather read it on AO3 it can be found here! ______

Arthur

This couldn’t be happening. Arthur would have laughed at the absurdity of it, really. If he weren’t so choked up by the gnawing realization that you weren’t going to make it. Micah had insisted on pulling another O’Driscoll bust. Stealing the mother-load from a bank transport wagon the rival gang had their eye on. “C’mon Arthur. After what they did to you and Kieran? They deserve it.” He coerced you both into it. “And Y/N is a quick shot. In and out, easy job.”

You were excited to fuck over the Irish gang. When Arthur returned half dead on his horse you were in shambles. Heartbroken over seeing your lover at death’s door. “Let’s do this!” You exclaimed. “Let’s make their pockets hurt.” Just as Micah had pointed out, you were quite experienced. You had been running with the gang for a long while and your talents were admirable. Hell, you even saved Arthur from getting shot a few times.

“Okay.” He agreed reluctantly. “Let’s go.” He didn’t trust Micah but if you were there… Well… The job would probably be fine.

Arthur should have known by now it was another setup. After the O’Driscoll boys strung him up in that cellar he should have known… After Sean’s head was blown off during the blood feud he should have known. When he saw you fall from your horse everything clicked for him. The world slowed as he watched the horses of the men behind you trample your limp body mercilessly into the dust. The O'Driscolls outnumbered the three of you greatly and it was clear they were out for blood. Arthur shot every single one of them with little hesitation, leaving behind no survivors.

Micah rejoiced while the dirt cleared from the air. “Whoo-hoo!” He laughed, sliding from his saddle to loot the O’Driscoll corpses. “They got some good money!” Micah gazed up, tilting the brim of his hat while scanning the area for you. “Shit-” He breathed. Your horse was dead and you… Well, he could tell by the way Arthur dropped everything to rush to your side that something not so good probably happened.

Arthur noticed you hadn’t moved in awhile. By the time he collapsed by your side and held you in his arms he was able to take in how much you were in rough shape. Arthur swallowed hard, watching you gurgle on your blood and gasp, struggling to breathe. “Arthur-” He winced when the broken sound of your usually sweet voice reached his ears.

“Shhh, Y/N. Save your energy. It’s gonna be okay, we’re gettin’ you outta this.” Though they were meant to be soothing, his words were desperate. A silent prayer to whatever god above had long abandoned him and his friends, and now his lover who was suffering badly. Arthur knew you wouldn’t make it to camp. Shit, you probably wouldn’t even live long enough for him to get you both on his horse. All he could do was hold you in his arms. Memorizing the weight of your body against his. The warmth of your skin and how beautifully you always looked up at him even in your last few moments.

Despite the drying blood coating your bruising face you were still the most ethereal being Arthur had ever laid eyes upon. He could have laughed right then and there. He could have cried. He could have begged; ‘No! Not Y/N too. Please- take anyone but Y/N! Take me instead!’ but who would listen? The universe never answered his prayers or his pleas. Surely the universe would be quiet today too.

He didn’t want your last moments to be scary. Instead he pet your hair, kissing your lips while trying to make sure you were laying in a comfortable position. It wasn’t easy since your ribs were shattered but it was all he could think to do. “Guess what?”

“What?” Your voice was barely just above a whisper.

“I wanted to tell you earlier, but… We finally have enough money to get ourselves a nice cabin out West. Just you and me. Maybe we can get ourselves a dog. Doesn’t that sound nice?” It was a lie but it was also a beautiful dream.

“Mmmm.” Your breaths were shallow now. There was a smile growing on your busted lips. Arthur’s heart sunk as he watched your eyes flutter shut. You looked so exhausted. Ready for eternal rest. Never had he felt such heartache. “It does sound nice. I really….. really want a dog.”

“I know you do, sweetheart. I know.” His voice trembled, finally giving away his emotions. When your breathing slowly came to a stop he pressed your foreheads together letting out a soft anguished cry. ‘I love you.’ He wanted to say, but who would listen? You were gone. The whole world fell silent. The birds didn’t chirp, the coyotes didn’t bark, and Micah Bell somehow had enough wit to him to give you both privacy in your final moments.

Arthur held you until the sun had long set and your body was growing cold. He couldn’t let go – wouldn’t…. Until Hosea finally came and squeezed his shoulder. “Arthur, my boy… I’m so sorry. Micah told me everything. Charles and I are here to help. Let’s let Y/N rest.” Slowly, Arthur uncurled from you, reluctantly passing your body to Hosea. Even as you were taken away he stared blankly at the spot you had been before slowly staring up at the twinkling stars above. Finally, he laughed. A cold hard grief filled laugh that was as heavy as his heart and mind.

“This is it for us.” He murmured, taking out a cigarette. “None of us are long for this world now.” Lighting it between his lips he flicked the match away then took a long drag. “I’m sure I’ll see you soon, sweetheart.” The breeze pushed back his hair while he smoked. Just taking in the scene before him. This was a scene he’ll never bear to draw in his journal. A scene that he’ll carry, burned into his memory, to fuel him until he too takes his final breaths.

Arthur Morgan stood. Covered in the blood of the only person who had genuinely loved him for who he was. In the blood of the most beautiful human being he had ever had the privilege of sharing life with. He carried his trembling body to his horse. “Follow me. I know where she’d wanna be laid to rest.” __________

Charles

Charles took you hunting in the Grizzlies West, an activity you and him have done a dozen times together if not more. Pelts were needed to upgrade things around camp and to keep everyone warm, it was a simple task. You were an experienced hunter and he loved spending quiet lazy days with you out in the mountains. That was, until today.

You had tracked a moose to cliff overlooking a nearby river. “We’re close.” Charles admired the snowflakes shimmering in your hair as the sun moved through the trees.  The day had been long and you two were wrapping up for the evening. Just one last catch…

Then, you were suddenly gone.

Charles blinked in confusion. It happened sp quickly his mind struggled to make sense of it even as the loud SLASH of your body hitting the frozen water reached his ears. “Y/N!?” Charles rushed to the ledge, watching you scramble to catch onto a rock since you were swept away by the deadly current.

He wasted no time in mounting his horse, riding fast and hard to catch up to you long enough to toss you his lasso. “Y/N!” He tried hard to call your name over the rushing sound of water. “Y/N grab the rope!”

You coughed and sputtered, flailing wildly. You couldn’t see anything in the water, the current dragging you under every few seconds. “Charles!” You sobbed out. Finally you felt something wrap around your wrist. Charles managed to throw his lasso just right for you to grab onto. The frigid water bit into your skin like a thousand stinging needles while you were being pulled to the bank.

“You poor thing.” Charles breathed, gathering you into his arms once you were close enough for him to grab. You were half frozen and turning blue with hypothermia. Teeth chattering and shaking so hard you couldn’t even speak. Your skin burned so badly your brain was begging you to rip it off. The cold was a shock to your system, all you could to was press helplessly against your lover’s warm chest. Never had you felt such pain.

Charles did the best he could. He knew he had to get you warm or else…. Luckily you were close enough to Colter, he was able to bring you there quickly. Returning to the spot was bitter sweet. He set you up in the warmest cabin, stripping your wet clothes off. Charles then covered you in his coat and the furs you two managed to collect earlier. Finding dry firewood was a struggle so he ended up burning little kindling with paper from a book and some fat from an animal you both killed.

“S-s-so c-cold.” You whispered. All of your energy had depleted trying to keep your body warm and now your eyes were growing heavy.

“I know, I’m sorry. It’ll be warmer soon.” The fire really wasn’t heating fast enough. Charles gathered you in his arms again in an attempt to share his warmth with you. He could tell you weren’t doing well. Even if he could bring you into the warmest place possible you probably weren’t going to make it, you had been in that water for far too long. He tried not to let that get to him. If he ignored that fact, maybe it would disappear from existance and you would be okay.

Charles brushed the hair from your face, kissing your forehead. Your head rest against his chest and he stared into the fire as he rocked you gently. He was silent for awhile, trying to conjure ways to save your life or to ease your suffering. Nothing came to mind and Charles was beginning to feel terrified. “Don’t go to sleep.” He whispered, resting his chin on top of your head.

“I’m trying not to.”

Oh, your voice was so strained and weak. Was this the last time he’ll ever hear you speak?

“I love you.”

Charles swallowed hard. He looked down at you again, searching your face with desperation. “I know. I love you too.”

“I know.” You teased him, snuggling up to your lover one final time. “Thank you for taking care of me.”

“Y/N…..” His brow furrowed. A part of him didn’t understand why you were saying these things while the other half was realizing the reality and severity of the situation. Tears pricked the corners of his eyes. He held you tighter as if that would somehow keep you bound to this world. “Always.” He whispered. “Now and in the future.” Please… please let there be a future…

You didn’t answer. Your eyes were shut peacefully and your breathing began to fade. Feeling helpless now that his best friend was slipping away in his arms, all Charles could do was silently cry. He kept rocking you, singing a lullaby his mother had sang for him as a child. He wanted you to go peacefully and well loved. It was the least he could do.

Only hours ago you both were on top of the world. Enjoying each others company. Giving thanks to the animals you hunted. Only this morning he woke up to you in his arms kissing all over his face while giggling. And now…. Now you were gone. In his arms, yes, but not really here at all. He’ll never see you again.

Charles sobbed, his whole body shaking as he clung to you. He wasn’t ready for you to leave. Not like this… He stayed with you until the sun rose and a new day broke. Placing one final kiss to your lips he carefully bundled you up in the pelts and brought you to his horse. It was too cold up in Colter to dig a grave and he wanted to place you somewhere beautiful. Somewhere meaningful. The ride down the mountain was slow and painful. Charles sang sorrowfully his lullaby the whole way.

After that day, Charles no longer found any peace in hunting. It only brought memories of you. ____________

Micah

Micah had a hard time loving people. Letting people in. He was shown from a young age that love was a weakness and he was a survivor. That was, until you came around and somehow tore down those walls. With you in his life he was calmer, milder, less likely to shoot up a town for looking at him wrong. If he had to do a job you were always right there by his side.

Micah didn’t consider this might be a setup. He thought it was just another day out and easy money.  A house robbery where the occupants had recently come into some decent cash while gambling in Saint Denis. However, they were simple country folk and seemed innocent enough. The wife was supposedly away visiting her sister with their children and the husband was fast asleep. Easy. Sneak in, grab the money, sneak out. Maybe steal their carriage. Something you could probably handle on your own but Micah thought the two of you riding off into the moonlight with pockets overstuffed with ritches was rather romantic.

It was an ambush.

You found the cash effortlessly just as assumed. There was a book here you picked up and glance at, or a bottle of alcohol there you stowed away in case it was useful. You always had a good eye for these things and since you’ve robbed plenty of homesteads you weren’t too concerned with things going south. Instead you took your sweet time as quiet as a mouse.

Micah was right behind you. He even teasingly spanked your ass at one point, causing you to glare playfully at him. “Really?” You mouthed. He shrugged. “C’mon. Let’s get outta here.” His hand was on your hip as you opened the front door. Micah could feel you freeze.

“Shit-”  Was all you could manage before stumbling backwards, clutching your throat in a feeble attempt to stop from bleeding out. Bounty hunters! They had surrounded the house as soon as you two entered, waiting for an opening. One hiding behind the door had shot you point blank in the jugular.

“Mother fucker!” Micah’s voice cracked with rage. His eyes were wild with insanity as he shot the man to death. Micah kicked the door shut in an attempt to buy you both a bit of coverage, dragging you to lay in the safety of his lap. “Come on out Micah Bell. We know you’re in there!” The team of bounty hunters circled the house, shooting at its walls, shattering the windows.

Micah ignored them the best he could. They could wait. He couldn’t tear his eyes away from your writhing choking form. You couldn’t breathe. Your hands reached out for him, clawing at his arms desperately as if Micah could give you your breath back. Crimson stained the both of you and your clothes.

“Shit baby-doll.” He let out a shaky breath. “I’m so sorry. I’ll make ‘em pay. I’m so sorry, I shoulda known.” He brushed the hair from your face, wiping the blood from the corner of your mouth with his shirt sleeve while his free hand put pressure on your spewing neck. There was so much blood and he could tell by the way your wide eyes glistened you were in pain. “I know, I know.” He hugged you while listening to your gurgled plea. “I know it hurts. It’ll go away soon.”

His hand wet with your life force slid down your body to rest over your still beating heart. He felt it thrum a moment longer before pressing his gun to the area. “I love you baby-doll.”

BANG!

Your body falling limp brought relief to Micah’s own lungs and he let out a shaky breath. He couldn’t stand the thought of you dying while wretching like a wounded animal. A mercy killing was most fitting of his sweetheart, he thought darkly with a heavy heart. Micah stayed with you a moment longer, whispering soft nothings until the bounty hunters caught his attention again. All of that rage filled him once more and he wasted no time in kicking open the front door and gunning them down in cold blood.

Silence filled the midnight air accompanied by crickets. The scent of gunpowder and iron was so thick he could taste it. It was peaceful. Life and death mingled in silent spaces held in the shadows. It was as expected, Micah thought.

Shrugging off his jacket he slid it on your form before scooping your lifeless body up in his arms. He set you on the back of Baylock before dragging the other corpses into the house and lighting it on fire. Micah watched it burn, smoking a cigarette. The dancing images cast over the land in a faint glow amused him. Were you there? Rejoicing in the death of the men who killed you? He wanted to think so. To think that you would dance in every fire he lit from here on out.

Once dawn broke Micah finally mounted his horse to find a place to bury you. He actually considered this a lot. He wanted to lay you to rest in a place easily accessible so he could visit you often. He stayed silent the whole ride, replaying memories of you in his mind. You were his one and only and Micah knew he would never find love again. _____________

Dutch

Dutch had many lovers but none were quite like you. You were ethereal. Special. All he ever wanted to do was make his plans then return to his tent to hold you in his arms as you both spoke about the future and fell asleep for the night. He looked forward to his time with you. Unlike his other lovers you enjoyed going out and working for money. Charming a fella for his days wage, or stealing from a rich man’s wife during teatime. It was a quality about you he found… Well… Sexy.

When Dutch met with Colm O’Driscoll he thought it went rather well. Arthur never met them on the road home but he didn’t think too much of it. Riding back to camp he was in high spirits. Speaking loudly to Micah about how they were finally moving forward in life. “Where’s Y/N? I have wonderful news!” He announced after hitching his horse. Charles and Ms. Grimshaw exchanged looks.

“She hasn’t returned yet Dutch, I thought you went to meet her in Rhodes.” Grimshaw flattened her skirt.

Dutch scoffed. “Now why would I go and do that?”

“She said she’d be back in the evening.”

“It’s evening now, Ms. Grimshaw.”

“I know. We were waiting for her.”

With a sigh, Dutch simply stalked back to The Count, climbing onto his saddle. “I’ll go fetch her then.” It was such a chore! He shouldn’t be out when he has such a price on his head. But Dutch was quite giddy after Colm complimented him and he wanted you to be the first to hear about how the meeting went.

He rode into town, walking through on his horse as his eyes scanned the buildings for any sign of you. Maybe you were mingling?  Before he could consider any other possibilities something caught his ear. His heart sank while he overheard words he never dared imagine the combination of.

“O’Driscolls? Down this far South? Unheard of. I guess they were searching for a gal. Grabbed her and took off with the Lemoyne Raiders hot on their tail. Nasty business.”

Nasty business indeed. Now, he could be slow but Dutch van der Linde was no fool. Why else would the O’Driscolls be down this way, during the day of their meeting no less, to kidnap a random girl? Oh, he knew. This was their idea all along. To kill his other sweetheart.

Dutch’s knuckles turned white with rage, snapping the reigns violently. The Count whirled around, running out of Rhodes until he carried Dutch back to camp. “Micah, Bill, with me. Now!” He barked through gritted teeth, pacing straight to his tent to grab his revolver. “Y/N has been taken. By Colm O’Driscoll.”

“Shit! That bastard. You shoulda’ killed ‘em!” Bill ran, grabbing his rifle while Micah walked leisurely to mount Baylock, completely unbothered.

“I should have, Bill. I should have. Now com’mon!”

They rode fast and hard. Somehow catching up to the O’Driscoll’s little posse before they could reach some encampment with you stowed on a horse. Micah flanked the enemy gang on one side while Bill came in from the other. Dutch held the back, eyeing you tied up and gagged. The sight made his blood boil. There was eight O’Driscolls in total and their horses were fast, but Dutch, Bill, and Micah managed to keep up. Riding and shooting at each other as they went.

The Irishmen fell from their horses like flies. Some with their face half blown off, others screaming as their horses dragged them to death.  One by one they were picked off until there were only two left. Dutch dug his spurs into his horse, moving him to ride along the man who held you captive on horseback. “Give it up son. Give me the lady and we’ll spare your life.” He didn’t want to shoot the man just yet in case you got hurt.

When a gun was pulled out of his pocket, Dutch veered to the side, assuming the fucker was going to shoot at him. His eyes widened when he realized the O’Driscoll boy wasn’t aiming for him at all. A severe miscalculation on Dutch’s part. “Colm says hello.”

BANG!

“God damn you!” He snarled. Dutch finally raised his pistol.

BANG! BANG! BANG!

He emptied a barrage of shots into the man until the gun clicked and no more bullets came out. Dutch chased after the boy’s horse, corralling the spooked animal into stopping. Time seemed slow. Too slow. Dutch tried his best to calm the horse enough for him to safely take you off its back and into the comfort of his arms. “Oh, my darling.” Dutch fell to his knees, untying you so he could inspect the growing blood stain near your abdomen.

“Dutch! You came for me. You came-” You sobbed, gripping your side in pain.

“Shhh. Of course I did.” He placed a kiss to your trembling lips. The wound was bad. This situation was bad. Everything was fucked. He had seen men shot in this area more times than he could count and he knew they never survived for more than a day at most.

“Com’ere.” He picked you up, carrying you to his horse. After sitting you down he climbed into the saddle. “Tell the others…” His mouth opened and closed for a moment. What does he even say? He didn’t want to scare you but… He didn’t want that filthy camp to be the last thing you see. He knew how much you hated it...

“Alright.” Bill said, seeming to understand what was happening. He took his hat off, staring at you for a moment before bowing politely. “I’m happy you’re safe, Ms. L/N.”

You smiled gently. “Thank you Bill.” Your throat was dry and your words were weak.

Dutch held you close to him as you rode off.

“Where are we going?” You wondered.

“Somewhere nice, my dear. With a wound like that you need rest and fresh air. Simple as that.” Somehow Dutch managed to keep his voice calm even as his heart churned with sorrow.

He brought the both of you to stop overlooking a beautiful meadow with a perfect view of the lake. After placing a sweet kiss to the top of your head Dutch scooped you into his arms, carrying you to a nice tree where he then settled you in his lap. “Here, take this.” He pressed a bottle of alcohol into your hands. “It’ll help take the pain away and you’ll be able to sleep.”

Dutch pet your hair as he watched you. Studying your face. Every bump, wrinkle, scar, and blemish. He wanted to remember every single aspect of you. His last lover… Whenever he tried to recall her face the picture was fuzzy. He couldn’t stand the idea of not being able to remember you. “I love you so much, you know that? You were so brave today. I’m proud of you, sweetheart. Real proud.”

“I wasn’t really…” You gave a little laugh, wincing as the alcohol burned your throat. “I love you too. Thank you for saving me.” You felt stiff and exhausted. Snuggling against his chest you both watched the sunrise and Dutch began reciting lines from your favorite book he had memorized. It was lovely, you thought as your eyes became too heavy and sleep was hard to battle. You hummed happily, a smile on your face as you drifted off peacefully.

Long after he felt your breathing stop did Dutch keep telling your favorite story. As if your spirit were lingering around and would return to your body. Then, maybe, everything would be okay. When he reached the final line of his remembrance only then did he cry. Burying his face into your hair he sobbed and took in your scent one final time.

The last thread of his sanity broke that day. He no longer cared about what future the gang might have. What future he would have with the price on his head… The only future he ever cared about was with you and you were gone now. He held you until Hosea came looking for him. Together they buried you somewhere meaningful. This was the only time Dutch actually payed for a headstone to be made. In your honor. __________________

Hosea

You and Hosea were always together no matter what you were doing. Half of the time you didn’t even need to speak with each other and just silently enjoyed each others company. Naturally you joined him on many outings to scope out who to rob. This particular occasion was a party on the outskirts of Saint Denis located in a beautiful garden home. You were dressed brilliantly, posing as Hosea’s lawful wife.

You’re charming. More charming than anyone else in the gang. With your sweet angel face and your gentle voice, everyone who spoke to you immediately thought of you as a good friend. And so there you were, mingling with the other guests. Giggling with the ladies and awe-ing (falsely so) with the rich gentlemen. Everyone loved you! So many people were trying to speak with you and flag down your attention.

It wasn’t usual to have such an elegant, smart, sweet, kind, and funny lady in their midst. You were a bit of a commodity. Hosea could hardly make his way to your side there were so many people surrounding you. He watched fondly from afar. Many times men would approach him to compliment you. “You’re one lucky man, Mr. Matthews. Mrs. Matthews is such a charmer.”

“Oh, I know it!” He laughed.” Trust me, fellas, it’s hard to keep my wife for myself some days.”

They all laughed. One man handing him a cigar which he happily accepted. The evening was bright and joyful. Though he nor you enjoyed events like this somehow you both were having fun this time. Hosea followed a group of men into a private back study to discuss investments while he left you at the main party.

This particular crowd was juicy, you thought. You heard so much gossip and many of the attendees were telling on themselves; bragging to you about what they’ve recently purchased for themselves or who’s neighbor was hoarding cash in personal safes. You were careful to make a mental note of each and every person as you nursed a glass of champagne.

“Did you hear?” A woman leaned close to you and a few of her friends.

“Hear what?” You inquired.

“Apparently Mrs. Conway has asked the local apothecary for… a permanent sleep cure.”

You tilt your head as the other ladies gasped and giggled. “Mrs. Conway… Our host for the evening?” Were they really gossiping about this woman in her own home?

“Yes. Oh, she must be dreadfully bored of Mr. Conway. I wonder if he’ll join us this evening.”

All you could do was smile and nod to blend in. It wasn’t the first time you had heard of a woman wanting to poison her rich husband. To each their own, you didn’t really care. You flinched as a loud clattering noise reached your ears. Looking behind you  your eyes settled towards the source of the sound. The kitchens.

“I heard they hired new help and the kitchens are a mess tonight.” Another older woman snickered. “The Conways are lucky mingling has been this evening’s high point. Otherwise a ruined meal would sully the party.”

“Absolutely.” You agreed, setting your glass aside. “Will you please excuse me? I wish to powder my nose before dinner.” With a hum you moved away from the group to find Hosea. It wasn’t hard for you to follow his voice down the hallway. You smiled to yourself, simply listening to him work his magic. He truly was such a likable man.

Once dinner arrived Hosea had met up with you and brought you to the dining room where he pulled out your chair. Even if you two weren’t in such a luxurious setting he would have still done this. Always such a gentlemen to the love of his life. “How goes it?”

“Quite well. The ladies here are wonderfully friendly. I’ve learned a lot from them.”

Hosea admired how stunning you looked in the chandelier lighting, ignoring the help as plates of food were set in front of each guest. “I’m happy to hear that, honey.” He gave you an easy but loving smile. A smile you were quite familiar with.

There was a short speech given by Mrs. Conway, who’s party this was, where she thanked everyone and made a few jokes that earned a chuckle here and there. Finally you were able to eat. It was spaghetti which was, apparently, an Italian dish. Jack had told you and Hosea all about it when he returned to Shady Belle.

There was still chatter in the air as you took your first bite. It was delicious! It made your throat tingle a little but you thought nothing of it. Perhaps it was just the spices used. After your third bite your throat suddenly completely restricted. Your fork clattered against the table, hands flying to your throat. You couldn’t swallow. You couldn’t breathe.

“Y/N?” Hosea’s startled gaze snapped to you immediately. The room went silent as looks of horror washed over the faces of guests. “Y/N!?” Hosea gasped when your body began convulsing. He quickly took you into his arms, helping you to the floor so you wouldn’t hurt yourself. “Someone call the doctor! Quick!” He screamed. His eyes met with Mrs. Conway’s only for a split moment. She was frozen into place, guilt written all over her face. “Hurry!” Hosea pleaded.

You cried out the best you could. Holding onto Hosea who tried his best to calm you. “I’m here my love. I’m here. Hang on. Please Y/N.” He felt so helpless. All he could do was wipe the spit from the corner of your mouth and the tears from your cheeks while whispering soft soothing words. He held eye contact with you, shushing you, promising you help was on the way. “Stay with me, love. Stay with me.” His words were desperate. Eyes filled with tears.

Your face was turning blue. Your body trembling, writhing and heaving. It was a disturbing sight for Hosea, who had always assumed he would meet his end far before you ever met yours. The poison was swift. As soon as it started it ended and you finally fell limply against his chest. Hosea paused, studying your face. He couldn’t understand at first why you were quiet. “Y/N?” He gently shook you.

“No…. No! Y/N!” He cried out for you. Hosea pulled you tightly against him, wrapping his arms to cradle your head away from prying eyes as he sobbed openly. The whole thing was a whirlwind. What was supposed to be a tantalizing evening ended in tragedy. A selfish woman meaning to poison her husband. The messy kitchen staff mixing up the guests’ plates. You choking to death on an elixir from hell. Hosea Matthews experiencing his lover being ripped away from him violently a second time.

To onlookers he was nothing but a broken man refusing to let go of his murdered wife even as the police came and tried to break them apart. He wanted so desperately to fight them away, but he knew he couldn’t.

“I’m so sorry Mr. Matthews. I never meant for-” Ms. Conway whimpered pathetically while her hands were being bound by an officer for her arrest.

“You never meant for what?” He snapped. “An innocent person to die? You didn’t mean to get caught? You didn’t mean for your greed to bring you to such lows?” His eyes were cold and Ms. Conway hung her head in shame. “Go to hell, Ms. Conway. Where you belong.”

Once it was allowed, Hosea left the party. He went straight to the Saint Denis morgue to see you one last time before making funeral arrangements. It felt fake. As if the events of the night were a figment of his imagination. The gravity of reality didn’t sink in until he returned to Shady Belle alone. Every ne was asking where you were. All he could do was drag his old bones to his room, collapse onto his cot, and cry.

The Companion Glitch

My Favorite thing to do in game to avoid the main quests.

Love running into Blackwater by the end and causing a slaughter.

Micah:

Arthur:

Micah:

Arthur: *cocks gun* you've yee'd your last haw, partner.

Micah: If Dutch and I were drowning, who would you save?

Arthur: My time and effort

Arthur, John, Dutch, Charles, Micah, Sean, and Kieran- “Their Insecurities”- SFW

ANONYMOUS REQUEST: Can I request a prompt where the reader is really in tune with the other persons mood, or something similar? like maybe Arthur, Kieran or John when they’re feeling insecure about themselves and reader comes in to make them feel better? Sfw please!

ABSOLUTELY. I love this request, thank you so much for sending this!! I hope you don’t mind me adding a few other characters that I thought would fit well with the prompt! Enjoy!!!

CONTINUES UNDER THE CUT

Arthur

-Well obviously the man has insecurities.

-As much as you push him to just talk to you, he never opens up about them.

-The only time he gets close to doing so is when he’s feeling particularly rough.

-This time you were sitting at the camp fire with the others. Javier was singing while playing his guitar, and after you tried (and failed) to get Arthur to dance with you, you sighed and went to someone else instead.

-Your alternative dance partner seemed thrilled at the offer, and the brunette frowned slightly as he watched you, the others ability to keep up with you souring his already bitter mood.

-He stood abruptly, sulking over to his tent.

-Of course you noticed, so you excused yourself and followed him.

-He was on his cot, pouting and scribbling something into his journal angrily.

-“You alright?”

-“I’m fine.”

-“I don’t believe that for a second.”

-“It’s nothing. Go back and dance with _____.”

-Ah, so that’s what it was. You sit down next to him on the cushion, and he shuffles awkwardly.

-“My love, it’s just a bit of fun. Besides, have you seen _____ dance? They’re terrible.”

-That seems to make him smile a bit, but it’s short-lived.

-“Wouldn’t you rather be with someone younger, though? Someone who can keep up with you, like Lenny, or Javier, or Karen?”

-“Arthur Morgan, are you breaking up with me?”

-He freezes, eyes widening as he finally turns to look at you fully.

-“Wh- No! No- I just- I know I’m not exactly a prize catch-“

-“Then be quiet, Arthur. I’m not interested in anyone else, because I love you. Ain’t nothin’ gonna change that.”

-He relents, and you don’t miss the sigh of relief as he melts into you, an arm snaking around your waist as he plays with a strand of loose hair.

-“Love you too, darlin’.”

John

-This is John we’re talking about.

-Naturally, after Abigail and him decided to separate, he’s felt inadequate in most aspects.

-Now that you’re together, he’s constantly asking you things that you know roughly translate to “do you still love me?”

-It would be amusing, and kind of endearing if you didn’t know the root of his insecurity.

-You were bandaging a wound on his arm that resulted from a job gone wrong. He was silent most of the time until you spoke up.

-“You’re awful quiet today.”

-“Sorry.”

-“What are you apologizin’ for?”

-He apologized again quietly, and you sighed, not knowing what you expected.

-“What’s on your mind, love?”

-He held back for maybe a second, before beginning his rambling. You simply listened, still holding his hand as he spoke.

-“I guess I’m just trying to ask, do you still like me?”

-you pretended to think about it, looking away from him and tapping your chin in mock-thought. He watched nervously until you looked back and rolled your eyes.

-“Yes, John, obviously I’m still in love with you.”

-He breathed a sigh of relief.

-“I know shit has happened between you and Abigail, and I know first hand how hard it is to let that kind of thing go, but I need you to understand I’m not gonna leave you, because you’re not the same man you were when you were together.”

-He sat, stone still as you spoke.

-“I love you, John, and I’ll tell you every minute of every day until it finally sets in.”

-You leaned forward, pressing a gentle kiss to his lips and squeezing his hand in yours. He smiled against you, and you pulled back so your foreheads were just touching.

-“I love you too, sweetheart, I’m gonna try to get better at all this.”

Dutch

-Most would scoff at the idea of Dutch having insecurities. I mean, it’s Dutch. The “man with a plan.” He’s untouchable, and confident, and strong.

-That doesn’t change the fact that he’s aging, and he knows that all too well. And yes, he’s often found himself worrying if he’s satisfying you. (Sexually or otherwise.)

-He would take that secret to the grave with him if you weren’t so good at picking up on when he’s in a bad mood.

-One afternoon, he thought he had some alone time. You were supposedly helping Charles with prepping some game for provisions, and Dutch had time to mope privately.

-He was currently standing in front of the mirror in his tent, the flaps drawn and fastened. His vest and button-down were folded over a chair as he stared at himself, brow furrowed and lip tucked between his teeth in a grimace.

-He turned to the side, lifting his shirt and pulling a face while he examined his gut that stuck out a bit too much.

-Suddenly the tent opened, and you stepped in. Dutch jumped slightly, and saw you smirking at him.

-“Just can’t get enough of yourself, huh?”

-He made a noise of mock amusement, and cleared his throat when you raised a brow.

-“You alright?” No, he was not alright. But the man knew you already knew that.

-“C’mere.” He did, and you took his face in your hands, brushing the hair out of his eyes carefully.

-“Dutch, love, you’re perfect. I hate seeing you mopin’ about like you ain’t.” The outlaw melted into your touch, humming.

-“Thank you for comforting me, my dear, I love you too.”

Charles

-Your boyfriend is a gentle giant. Everyone in camp is aware of that. Whenever help with manual labor is needed, he’s the first to offer his assistance.

-And as much help as Charles is to the gang, he isn’t immune to self-doubt. He sees all the work everyone puts in to help their small community, and he wonders if what he does is enough.

-More often than not, you’re there to settle his thoughts, but sometimes, his worries consume him, and he ends up isolating, like he is right now.

-The ravenette was seated on a log as he was on guard duty, and you approached him as you left the camp.

-“You okay, my love?” You asked, and sat down next to him, listening quietly as he told you about what he was thinking.

-“I just don’t know if I’m doing as much as I can for this group.” You shook your head, patting his arm comfortingly.

-“You do so much, love. I’m ashamed you can’t see that. I would give you the world if I could.”

-“Thank you, flower. It makes me happy to hear you say that.”

Micah

-Much like the leader, Micah doesn’t outwardly show that he has any insecurities.

-Unlike Dutch, however, he is more in the habit of pushing those insecurities onto others.

-You’re well aware of this, so you and Micah sat down together one day and discussed ways to remedy his unhealthy behavior.

-It’s taken time, but the plan seems to be working. He hasn’t been picking on anyone, even Arthur, (much to the blondes chagrin) even half as much as he used to.

-But one evening, after supper, you left Pearsons wagon after helping clean to look for Micah. When you couldn’t find him for nearly ten minutes, you began to worry.

-Eventually, you catch him out of the corner of your eye over by the horses, talking animatedly to Kieran. You could only assume what he was doing, and made your way over as fast as possible.

-“Micah! Leave the boy alone!”

-That got his attention, and he spun around to look at you, knowing you caught him red handed.

-“Apologize. Now.”

-He did, albeit reluctantly, and you gave Kieran an embarrassed nod before dragging Micah off to his tent.

-“What’s going on? Why were you picking on Kieran?”

-Micah looked away, pouting, before turning back to you.

-“Was just messin’ around with him..”

-The look you gave him made him rephrase.

-“I was just.. Jealous of you spendin’ time with him. When you went fishin’.”

-You sighed, and pulled him into a lazy hug, petting his hair.

-“Kieran and I are just friends. It’s difficult to be in a gang and not get along with people. You know that better than most, love.”

-He scoffed, rolling his eyes, and you kissed his temple gently.

-“I love you, Micah. Sooner you know that the better.”

-A sigh, and he melted into your embrace.

-“You too, sunshine.”

Sean

-He hides it well, with his friendly, lighthearted demeanor, but the redhead often frets over whether he is good enough for you.

-Often times, he doesn’t bat an eye at you when you ask how he’s feeling, typically waving it off with a joke.

-But sometimes, when he decides to go heavy on his drinking, (he always does, but some nights are heavier.) his inebriated mood changes from drunken stupidity and flirtations to one more befitting of a man who has been through as much pain and suffering as he has.

-Every time, you will coax him back to your tent, and the Irish man will go on for hours, bringing to light each doubt and uncertainty in his heart.

-More often than not, you will spend the night with him, telling him everything you love about him, and simply letting him lay his head in your lap as you play with his hair.

-Come morning, he’ll have a massive hangover, and your boyfriend will apologize profusely to you for his ranting the night before, only for you to dismiss it.

-“My love, all I want is for you to be content in your own skin. I would happily comfort you every night like that if it were necessary, so please, don’t apologize.”

-Whenever you say things like that, Sean instantly tears up again, smothering you with kisses.

-“Oh god, what ever did I do to deserve this beautiful love of mine, and how do I make sure I never lose them?”

Kieran

-It’s Kieran. The boy has probably had insecurities since he was able to form coherent thoughts.

-Damn it all if you won’t do everything you can to make those thoughts disappear, though.

-Every chance you get, you’re leaning in, telling him how handsome he looks today, or how good of a job he’s doing taking care of the horses.

-It turns him into a red faced, blubbering mess each time, but to you, it’s worth it to make sure he knows you think the world of him.

-Whenever you leave camp without him, or the other way around, you find yourself thinking of the brunette more than anything else. You worry if he’s eating enough, sleeping enough, or if whoever he’s with is being kind to him.

-You know it makes you sound like an overprotective parent, but you’re aware of how much he’s been through, and you can’t help but want to look out for him.

-And heaven help the poor sod who decides it’s a good idea to pick on him. Even if you aren’t around to see it happen, you nearly have a sixth sense for when Kieran is upset, and you’re always able to get him to open up about whatever happened.

-One time in particular, you happened upon Micah harassing him, calling him disgusting names, and it took nearly five minutes, a broken nose, and a dislocated shoulder for both Arthur and Charles to peel you off of the blondes now-unconscious body.

-You always find yourself feeling guilty afterwards. Not for Micah, no, but for the way Kieran looks at you, an expression half between embarrassment and guilt that he created such a situation.

-The two of you end up sitting with the horses, your partner bandaging your bloodied knuckles in awkward silence as you both tried to think of something to say.

-“I’m sorry, my love, I just never want you to doubt that you’re the most precious thing in my life.”

-His face will redden, and he nods, leaning in when you begin to close the gap between you.

-“I know, sugar, I love you too.”

Arthur, in heaven: oh wow here’s my dog and my mom and-

Micah: …

Arthur: … oh so y’all just let anyone in here huh

i watched r.i.p.d. a while ago to pass the time (don't rlly recommend but . It was . Interesting) & to this day i cannot see roy without thinking of micah. it actually haunts me

when he came on screen i literally choked and instantly asked my friend wtf he was doing in this strange copaganda movie

I'm in love with your witings , You are really talented ♡♡ ! , and I was wondering if you could write something like How will the gang members [arthur,dutch,micah,and anyone you like] react to f!reader who wears glasses because she had a very bad eyesight? (she's very insecure about it) and its fine if you dont want to

Thank you anon!💖💖 I think I will also add Sean to this list XD

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The Gang Members (Arthur, Dutch, Micah, and Sean) React to Fem!Reader Who Wears Glasses Because of Poor Eyesight

Arthur Morgan

-We all know it's hard for Arthur to express himself a lot of the time, especially when it's around a lady as pretty as yourself. When he first notices your glasses, he pretends he doesn't notice as to not make you feel weird or anything.

-But he's a piss poor actor (Hosea's working on it), so you just make a comment yourself to reel him back in.

-You explain how poor your eyesight is without them, and that you need them to see practically anything. You were insecure about it, so Arthur's hesitation was well intended. But you could also sense that Arthur was going to be awkward until you told him.

-Sometimes he overreacts and thinks you are deathly blind, which leaves you embarrassed and having to remind him that you are just fine with your glasses.

-He's a respectful man to those he likes, so you knew you had nothing to worry about when it came to him teasing you or something. Arthur still noticed your discomfort and apologized if it was his fault.

-This led you guys to having long thoughtful discussions about insecurities and what not. The two of you trusted each other, so there was no worries. Just closure.

-And if anyone dared make a comment on your glasses, Arthur would send one of his sharp insults their way to shut them up.

Dutch van der Linde

-Dutch is a master with words and charm, and he takes interest to nearly every female body in camp, you included. To be honest, Dutch didn't even notice your glasses at first. All he paid attention to was the books you were reading.

-It takes a comment from Hosea to you about your glasses (cause you trusted the olde man), to make Dutch realize that you don't only wear them when you read.

-Dutch being Dutch confronted you smoothly on the matter. He was a curious man after all and none of his other gang members seemed to wear glasses. You were shy about answering. Not only were you insecure about the whole thing, but this was also Dutch here.

-You eventually were conned into telling him, Dutch using all his pretty words into making you cave. You were ashamed that he wouldn't want you here because you couldn't basically do anything without your glasses.

-But Dutch seemed to find you more endearing, like a fragile flower.

-He doesn't bring your glasses up again, acting like they aren't even there for the sake of your self-esteem. However, you can catch him staring at some points, like you were a deer who would bolt if he dare made a move.

-But not words were ever brought up by anyone ever. He made sure of that, and he made sure to give you some books now and again to keep a smile on your face.

Micah Bell

-We all know that Micah would be an absolute asshole at first. He may be a bit "softer" on the women, but he picks out anything he sees as a weakness and attacks. Some others know about your glasses, but when they notice that he notices, they get worried.

-He practically snatches them from your face, causing you to shriek as he examines them with a squint in his eyes.

-Your sudden fear is what shocks him the most, not understanding why losing (what he considers) such a stupid trinket would cause you to panic. When you tell him that you can't see, he gives them back to you as you scramble to put them on. Of course, he makes a sly comment.

-Did he give them back to you out of pity? Fear of getting Dutch on his ass? Something else? Micah himself didn't really know. All he did know is that your eyesight was very poor, which is why you never went out on any missions.

-It takes a couple days, but he eventually works up the stomach to apologize to you. It's forced and not very convincing, but it was enough to get you to admit why you freaked out, confirming what he thought.

-It was a weird conversation to have with him because Micah never seemed like a caring type. But then, after a moment, he asked if they really worked, so you offered to have him try them on. This was the one time that you seemed to smile with him, especially when he said he was more blind with them on.

-He may tease you from time to time, raising your insecurities somewhat. But eventually, the nickname "four eyes" became something of a term of endearment. In the end, he actually offers to teach you how to shoot.

Sean Macguire

-Sean is the most endearing little bean that makes everyone smile. He is probably the only one who makes you forget about your insecurities because he is so good at making you laugh and feeling like you are special.

-But he's also someone who won't leave you alone when he becomes interested in something. So when he sees your glasses, he's glued to you.

-Sean's instincts tell him to compliment you because your a woman, but his childish curiosity tells him to ask about your glasses. So, he does both at the same time. Telling you how pretty you look with your glasses.

-Of course, this leaves you as a flustered mess, so you eventually tell him that they aren't there for show but rather you need them to see because you are practically blind without them. Sean doesn't really understand and takes the glasses from your face to look at them.

-Sensing your worry, he puts them on his own face and jokingly asks if their magic and will help him read better. His goal to make you giggle is a success, so he hands your lifeline back to you.

-Sean sees himself as the only one who gets permission to bring up your glasses, so anyone else who does (even if it's an innocent comment) get to face him and his Irish accent stating how no one else but him gets to talk to you like that.

-He's the one who makes you feel better about your glasses, and you love how much he loves to make you smile. Your insecurity is almost nonexistent around him. God bless Sean for being in your life.

Don’t ask me how I got this shot of Micah—but just know it required me annoying him for quite a while. To be fair, we’re in Chapter 6, so it’s warranted :)

The Gang as Fathers (RDR2)

This was an anon request :D Characters: Arthur, Hosea, Dutch, Charles, Sean, Kieran, and Micah TW: Micah’s contains graphic/violent themes Requests are always welcome~ feel free to request anything hehe AO3 link here ___  Arthur - He always pretends to be stern with his child but gives in almost immediately. “You can’t have candy before bed….” He puts on his best mean face that only lasts a few seconds. “Fine, just one piece.” - His baby will learn how to ride a horse before learning how to walk. Arthur will hold his child while caring for the horses or will cradle them in his lap during trail rides. - “I heard a little alcohol was good for babies. Makes ‘em sleep better.” He’ll stick his pinkie finger in some whiskey and will let the baby suck on it to calm down, but only during fitful crying or when his baby won’t sleep.

- As his child grows older he’ll try hard to give them a good education. Not city folk education, but enough to know about the world. There’ve been many times Arthur wished he had gone to school as a kid. - When his child draws for the first time Arthur is SO proud! He shows EVERYONE and keeps the drawing tucked safely in his journal for many many years to come. It doesn’t matter how old his baby gets, he keeps every drawing no matter what. - If Arthur had a daughter I think he would try harder to learn more about women’s rights. He might even visit the protesting lady in Saint Denis and ask her a few questions. He’s seen how the world treats women and he wants to raise a strong woman of his own who will always believe in herself and love herself no matter what. - Also- Daddy daughter dates!!! He would go to all the nice little cafe’s and bakeries with his daughter or would take her on special little picnics. - Camping trips!!!! Every weekend Arthur is packing his kiddo(s) up to go camping. He doesn’t like fishing but he’ll take his kids forging and teach them how to live off the land. When they’re bigger Arthur teaches them how to hunt small animals, like squirrels, with a bow and arrow. At night he cooks dinner over an open fire and sings trail riding songs or tells stories of his days as an outlaw. - If his child ever goes through a tween or teen phase of hating him Arthur WILL cry himself to sleep every. damn. night. wondering what he did wrong. Even if he knows it’s just how kids are at times, it really hurts his feelings. That self loathing part of him mixed with old family wounds never leaves him. - Sorry to any wife or husband of Arthur’s out there – but Arthur would save his child before all else in ANY dangerous circumstance. He’ll save his spouse next but the kid(s) come first. - “When you’re older I’ll give you my hat. It was my daddy’s hat, and now it’s your daddy’s hat. One day it’ll be your hat.” “Hey! Stop playing with my hat!” “Di’ju take my hat to school?  Don’t do it again.” - Even if his children are around people he trusts he will still watch them like a hawk, almost afraid someone will snatch them away. - He really hates being away from his children so he sends letters about his great adventures to them until he can return. - Arthur really doesn’t want his children walking in his footsteps, BUT he does wish they could experience true adventure and freedom. Because of this he’ll plan elaborate activities. Sometimes he creates treasure maps and will take his children riding around the state to find a ‘hidden treasure’ Arthur himself buried. - When his child turns 13 he’ll take them out to find a wild horse of their choosing, then he’d teach them how to tame the horse as a right of passage. It’s an amazing bonding experience between the both of them, and he thinks horses are special animals. Growing up with your horse is a must. - “Seriously gimme my hat!” -- Hosea - Hosea’s always secretly wanted a little one of his own. It doesn’t matter if he has a daughter or a son, that baby will be in his arms 24/7 - Literally wants to raise his child as a mini him – in the most positive way possible. - Bedtime stories were chapter books and his children learn how to read fairly early-on in their childhood. - Every few years Hosea gifts his child a new fishing pole that matches how big they’ve grown. Fishing is very important to him and he makes a point to have a special spot where he camps with his kids and fishes for days. Playing in the rocks and trees, hiding in the fields around the camp when not catching fish. Instead of campfire stories he reads books out loud or retells old memories he finds amusing. - “I want you to understand, the outlaw life is not for everyone.” Hosea is torn. He doesn’t want his children to become outlaws like him… However there’s a part of him he can’t deny where he wishes his child would be there with him no matter where he was. If his child became an outlaw he wouldn’t fully protest it. He’d feel guilty, I think, but he doesn’t want to be away from his kid(s). -That being said, his kid is raised with the Van-Der-Linde gang. Whenever Dutch or Susan tries to parent his child Hosea will always stand up to them. He puts a lot of emphasis on Arthur and John to protect his babies; mostly because he views Arthur and John as his children too, so they should act like good brothers. - He would LOVE taking his kids out to see plays or to the circus whenever the circus is in town. He’ll take them to films too though he prefers the performing arts (theater) first. However, he loves exposing his children to any and all types of art. If his child ever expresses an interest in acting or writing he’d swell with pride and do anything to support them. - Hosea is a smart man. He know he’s living on borrowed time. Making it to your 50’s as an outlaw was no minor feat. There’s money no one knows about, not even Dutch. Money that can set his children for life. He makes sure to bury it carefully and made arrangements for his child to receive a map of its whereabouts in case of his death. - “And that is ursa major and ursa minor.” Star gazing with papa Hosea! - He is firm but empathetic. Hosea will uphold any punishments that he thinks fits the crime. However, he’s never spanked or laid a hand on his kids. He’s more interested in life lessons. If he catches his child stealing then he’ll force them to donate something of theirs to the poor, ect. - If his baby is sick he’ll stay up all night by their bedside checking their fever and making sure they’re okay. He refuses to leave their side and won’t sleep until he knows his baby is okay. - Hosea’s biggest fear is losing his child.   He’s big on teaching his kid safety from a young age, even if that means using a knife or a gun. - For their 18th birthday he’ll gift his child a very beautifully engraved pistol. The engraving will be a quote or a saying that is personal to him and that child. Something with meaning only they would understand. - Even if his child is a full grown adult, Hosea will come read with them at bedtime. It’s something that makes him feel loved and cherished and he hopes his child feels the same way. - You cannot convince me this man would not put on a play with his children. He encourages the gang to act excited or amazed while watching. He’ll shoot a glare at Dutch whenever Dutch acts a little too excited. --- Dutch - Let’s be honest, Hosea raises any and all of Dutch’s children. - No kid friendly books, his children learn how to read philosophy like men. -Will completely destroy his children in any and all board games. He’ll never let them win no matter how young they are. If his kid starts crying he’ll say something snarky like “Aww go cry to mommy/papa Hosea.” - He is definitely the fun parent though. (At least in his opinion). His 10 year old is robbing trains. He’ll rob a candy store too for shits and giggles, just so his little one thinks he’s cool. - He really does love when his child sits on his knee or rides on his shoulders. It makes his heart swell with happiness. - I don’t think Dutch really knows what to do with children. He just treats them as tiny adults. - He will ALWAYS introduce his children with pride. Because of that there’s this… unspoken pressure for his children to always be at their best. They always need to be well articulated or ready for action. Otherwise there might be a dreaded “I thought I taught you better.” speech. - Dutch really did try hard to make sure his children grew up smart and capable. However, if that ever turns them against him or if they question him he immediately gets upset/angry. - His children will grow up calling him daddy and Hosea papa. Dutch might try to correct them a few times. “It’s uncle Hosea-” But he gives up rather quickly. - Dutch does mean well. He tries to take his children on special or fun outings. Unfortunately it always ends up about him or the mood is ruined with a long philosophical rant/speech. - He is not a completely useless father though. If his child is hurt he’s the first one there to scoop them up and console them. He would bandage them up and kiss their boo-boo’s better…. Up until near the end when the gang starts splitting apart. Around this time it seems as if he’s not fully present and so it doesn’t register to him that his child is hurt or injured. He starts to see it as their own personal problem no matter what age they might be. - His children are brought up seeing him as this wise, smart, powerful figure. They view him more as a savior than a loving parent. Basically they’re brought up to view Dutch the same way as the rest of the gang sees him. He provides shelter, clothes, food, and safety. He is the reason they have a free life. And because of this I do think they would have a lot of love for their father, but, they’ll never feel like they’re good enough. - If anyone ever touched a hair on his child’s head… Without fail they’ll end up filled with bullet holes or burnt to a crisp. He’s not great at showing his love but his children are his everything. ----- Charles - Charles is the type of parent that loves his children SO much he doesn’t even need to say a word. His love is always shown through his actions. He’ll gently sweep their hair out of their face or he’ll rub their back. When they’re little kids Charles will always press a little kiss to the top of their heads. - He doesn’t give in as easy as Arthur does. No candy before bed. Eat your dinner before dessert, drink more water, don’t go off alone, ect. He’s never mean about it. Charles tries to make sure his children are as healthy and well looked after as possible. - What if he’s not here one day? What if his past catches up with him or something bad happens? This is always in the back of Charles’ mind. Because of this he teaches his children how to be self sufficient from a young age. He makes a game out of cleaning up and chores become a family activity. He tries to keep it fun for them since they’re still kids. - Children are the future in Charles’ eyes. He teaches his kids everything he knows. They’re taken on hunting trips and out forging or fishing. Charles teaches them how to make bows and arrows. He’ll tell stories about his mother or his experiences. Most of all he teaches his children respect. Respect for nature and all of the animals they may meet. - When Charles’ child is an infant or a baby he will ALWAYS be holding them. Doesn’t matter what he’s doing, that baby will be on his back or in his arms. He LOVES holding his children. It helps ground him and reminds him they’re really his and life can be good. - He won’t admit it but he loves dressing his children up. He likes to make or buy clothing and accessories he thinks would suit them. During winter his favorite part of the day is bundling them up in their coats and scarves. Charles thinks they look adorable toddling off to play in the snow. - HE WOULD BE SUCH A GOOD GIRL DAD! Charles goes out of his way to learn different hairstyles so he can do his daughter’s hair different every day. I think he’d make jewelry for his daughters and would always be singing with them or playing with them. Charles would be very protective yet respectful. He’d still teach his daughters how to track and hunt, ect. - Charles carries pictures of his children everywhere he goes. On the rare occasion he’s drunk he takes out the pictures to show everyone like “Look at my babies!” - He would be that annoying parent who’s children becomes their personality. He doesn’t talk much but if he’s with someone he’s friends with he’ll casually work his children into all of his small comments. “I need to get some fresh meat for my family.” “My children would love it here.” “I would never let a man like that around my children.” - Charles would totally call his child ‘baby’. “Hi baby!!!” “What do you need baby?” “Oh no, don’t cry baby.” He wouldn’t do it in public but in private???? He is soooo unbearably loving and mushy with his kids. It doesn’t matter how old they are, that’s his baby. - Charles didn’t really have parents while growing up. He wants to show his children as much love, kindness, and compassion as possible. The world is cold and cruel. If he can be the light and warmth for his kids then he’ll do it. - When his children grow up, if they decide to pursue goals/dreams Charles doesn’t fully understand, he will go out of his way to educate himself on that topic just to show them support. -Charles is one of those parents that really don’t want their children to move away from him. If they chose to he’ll respect their wishes but you bet that man will be crying DAILY because he misses his kids. - For the same reasons, Charles can’t be away from his kids more than two days without feeling heartbroken. - Charles would honestly do so well as a single father if he ever becomes one. - He’s a huge fan of gentle parenting. He keeps his voice calm and talks his children through anger/sadness with patience. It’s important for him that his children feel seen and heard. - Charles is the type of father that’ll beat the SHIT out of anyone who messes with his baby. - He’ll play dress-up with his kids. If his children want him to be a princes… he’ll be a mf princess! ------ Sean - God… Sean as a father? The house will be burnt down immediately the first time he watches his kid(s) alone. - He’s the fun parent. He’s also the unsafe parent. He really doesn’t see anything wrong with bringing his 3yo with him on a robbery. “They had a blast, it was great!” - Let’s be real, Sean is more of a friend to his child than an actual parent. He’ll never reinforce any rules. He’s always down to clown. He’ll be your best buddy but he won’t help you with your homework. - It’s fine to give kids alcohol sometimes in his eyes. “Go on, you can have a sip of my beer. It’ll put some hair on your chest.” - If his child isn’t as bubbly or loud as him he’ll be a bit disappointed. If his child matches his energy he’ll be 10x worse. They’ll be working off of the same brain-cell. - Sean loves to dress his children up to look like him. He thinks it’s hilarious. He even calls his baby ‘Baby MacGuire’. “Hello there baby MacGuire.” “D’ju have a good day today little baby MacGuire?” “This is my wee baby MacGuire.” - He has dropped his baby on the head, probably more than once. He felt really bad about it. - He will make his kids do the “two children in a trench coat” thing to rob a store. He literally pisses himself laughing when it actually works. - Half of the gang will end up raising his child while he pops in sometimes to have fun outings with them. -Is he a good parent? Fuck no. But his children will LOVE him and I think they’ll always have a good relationship with him. - Sean has tried to get John to teach his kids how to swim. He doesn’t understand John can’t swim…. - He never forgets a birthday because he loves eating sweets with his kiddos but he WILL forget every other important event. ------ Kieran - I think Kieran would be a really good father! He’d never raise his voice. His punishments are very light, yet he’d make sure his children would know what they did wasn’t right. - He’s not great at socializing with his children, but he LOVES to listen to them. It fills him with so much happiness when his children confide in him. He doesn’t always know what to say but he’ll be there whenever they need him. - If he has a baby he’ll be so afraid of making any noises while the baby is sleeping. If he’s holding his baby as they sleep, Kieran refuses to move in case it wakes them. - He writes the names of his children on the tags of their clothes so they don’t get lost. - Kieran is a doormat for any teenage children. He hates disappointing or upsetting his child, so if he has a teenager who tests his boundaries that teen will win every time. - However, I think his children would love him more than anything. Even if they did do bad things to Kieran I think they’d feel guilty and wouldn’t do it again. - Piggy backing off of that – The best ‘punishment’ Kieran could give his kids is disappointment. If daddy Kieran is disappointed in you then you KNOW you fucked up. Because of this his children end up pretty well behaved. - All Duffy’s grow up around horses. He loves bringing his kids to the stables. Letting them pet and brush the horses. He holds them up so they can feed the horses treats. - He likes fishing even if he isn’t the greatest at it. He’ll take his children fishing or would let them work on arts and crafts while he fishes. - While most kids walk home from school, Kieran always waits outside for his kiddos so he can walk with them. - He always wishes his children “sweet dreams” before going to bed. Every. Single. Night. He’s never missed a night EVER. - I think Kieran would take his children to visit Ireland. Maybe to see his father’s extended family. - Holidays are very special in the Duffy household. Even if Kieran and his kids have to hand-make decorations he’ll do it! Anything to make their childhood special. - He takes special walks with his kids. During the autumn he’ll make his children catch a falling leaf each before they can go home. He hopes it helps them feel the magic of childhood. - Kieran is terrified his children would be orphaned like he was. Because of this he works long hours when he can. He saves up a decent chunk of money and hides it. Only his children know where it’s at and understand it’s only for emergencies. ------ Micah - God forbid Micah ever has a daughter. There is a chance he would decide to raise her as a boy BUT I honestly think he’d either kill her, make her a dumpster baby, or would pawn the child off on someone else. In the even that the child is raised by someone else Micah would probably visit once every six months and probably stick around until that child is old enough to ‘work’ for him. - If he had a son tho…. Micah Bell the IV. - He’s a very cold father. Nothing his child does will ever be good enough for him. Because of that his child would probably try to win his favor until they’re old enough to realize they’ll never have it. - “One day this empire of mine will be yours.” and he owns NOTHING! - Micah definitely has shaken his baby. He probably spanks them or whips them with a belt whenever they’re bad. - His children grow up to take care of him and do things for him. They do all the chores. If Micah needs a beer one of them always has to go get it. - If one of his children ever becomes attached to an animal (cat, dog, horse) he would shoot that animal dead to teach them a lesson. And that lesson is to ‘not be soft’ and ‘attachments are useless’. - He doesn’t do anything to take care of them. Child rearing is a woman’s job. Micah makes the money. He comes home expecting a hot meal then he fucks off. His children are probably relieved that he’s gone so much. - Once his oldest is in their late teens Micah would gift them one of his guns. He doesn’t love anything more than those guns so it’s symbolic of how much he does care for his child. Micah can’t love normally, nor does he know how to show it. His oldest will understand the weight of the gesture and it may even make that child feel indebted to him. - He’s the very old fashioned type that thinks he automatically should have respect from his children. - If no one is willing to take care of his children, every night would be “fend for yourself night” in the Bell household. He’d never lift a finger to cook for or take care of them.

micah seems like the kind of uncle you thought was really cool as a kid cause he had this "take no shit" attitude and would occasionally give you some snacks when you caught him raiding the pantry. but then you grew up and found out that he was wanted for several crimes and that he was infact a terrible person

I like the kink hcs you did for Arthur and the boys. What about kink hcs for some of the less popular characters?

Kieran, Sean, Micah, Eagle Flies?

Maybe a sprinkle of Lenny, javier, hosea?

Kink HCs Ft. Kieran Duffy, Sean Macguire, Micah Bell, Lenny Summers, Javier Escuella, Hosea Matthews

I've done Eagle Flies a few times already so I'll stick to these guys hehe. Also finally someone else who thinks Hosea is fine HEAR ME OUT YALLLLL

Warnings: pet play, humiliation, voyeurism, rough sex, name calling, impact play, marking, knife play, blood kink, bdsm, sadomasochism

Kieran Duffy

Surprisingly kinky, and incredibly submissive

I feel like he'd be into puppy play

He's just a sad, wet, and pathetic dog

And I'm talking leashes, collars, maybe even muzzles

You can order him to do just about anything

He'd probably be into humiliation. Will bark if you ask tbh

Part of that would probably involve public sex and the embarrassment that would come from the possibility of being caught

So low-key a voyeur maybe maybe just a little

If you've had a long day just go ahead and take it out on him during sex because he'll love every second of it

Orgasm denial and edging is definitely on the table

Until you have him swearing he's a good boy and deserves to cum

Sean Macguire

This man will do anything as long as he gets to cum

Though he'd probably steer away from the heavier kinks

He's into body worship. Not for his own body but yours

Kisses every inch of skin and appreciates your entire being before and during the act

He'd kiss the very ground you walk on tbh

Likes dominating but he doesn't mind taking things slow and kissing your feet and legs while you talk about your day

He's a real fun guy so I'd imagine he'd also like some form of roleplay. Ends up being really silly but plays his part real well. Makes sense his favorite roleplay scenario would be cop and criminal

He seems like the type to have fuzzy pink handcuffs LMAOO

Micah Bell

Let's be realistic he's probably into some freak shit at your expense

Rough sex always. Ain't no sweet and slow love making

Definitely into degrading

Hair pulling, slapping, spitting in your mouth or on your face, etc

Probably into spanking

Will "punish" you for just about anything

Lots of spur of the moment sex, like y'all will be in a public area and he'll suddenly want to take you

Name calling !

Whore, bitch, slut are commonly thrown around

Marking, you will always be bruised or have teeth marks and even scratches

Lenny Summers

He's such a sweetie, I have a hard time imagining him being very kinky

He'd probably be into some more gentle shit

Y'all would go through your more experimental phase

He's wholesome so he'd like praise, and that would go both ways between you two

Would let you order him around but more so he can learn what you like and what you want him to do

Once he gets more into it he'll become more passionate, he just needs more practice

I feel like the farthest he'd go in terms of inflicting any discomfort would be choking, but it would never go far. He'd end up taking his hand away last minute

He'd probably want to try different dynamics so he'd want to try subbing

Needs to be reminded of his role because he gets too enthusiastic

Javier Escuella

It's a universal fandom headcannon that he's into knife play

So knife play

Ghosts the tip of the blade up your thigh closer to your pussy before pressing the cold metal flat against you

Then runs it back down to your knee, repeats the same motion over and over again until you're shaking

Would probably enjoy typing you up/cuffing you so you're helpless to whatever he does

He'd probably be scared to actually draw blood but if you're into it he'll be down

Licks up any bloody wounds or sucks on them

Praises you so much the entire time

He'd be incredibly romantic though, incredibly good at aftercare

I think there'd also be times where he gets really into it and feeds off on the fear in your eyes

Hosea Matthews

He's such a sweetie but I feel like he'd be an incredibly experienced dom

These are my headcannons and I think Hosea is fine asf so leave me alone

Into leather crops, whips, blindfolds, gags, etc

Drips candle wax on you

Very flexible in terms of what he'll do

But he has to Dom

He can either be really good at praise or will degrade you

Brat tamer for sure

I can even imagine him having cages bro

Talks you through everything and gives you very detailed commands

Inflicts pain on you but knows extremely well how far to go and how much is too much