#young john marston :3
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experimenting with my style... again...
#john marston fanart#rdr2#rdr2 fanart#red dead redemption 2#john marston#western llemon#young john marston :3#that one scene in twdg when aj bites off that ladies ear?#ya#that but young john marston and hes like. saving dutch or smth#byebye ear ^^
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"Here To Help" | Hey Arthur! Comic Series
#i really hope this doesn't flop#it took me 3 months to make 😭😭#rdr2#rdr2 fanart#arthur morgan#john marston#young arthur morgan#young john marston#hosea matthews#dutch van der linde#vandermatthews#red dead#red dead redemption 2#red dead redemption#red dead redemption ii#rdr2 fandom#rdr2 community#rdr2 artwork#fanart#rdr2 comic#rdr#rdr2 art#rdr2 arthur#rdr2 john#red dead redemption community#red dead 2#red dead fandom#red dead redemption two#van der linde gang#video game fanart
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how john and abigail treat you after finding out your dating jack. part two.
before you continue!
GN reader, implied financial issues, brief mentions of the VDL gang, brief mention of injury, implied starvation and poverty. Jack is nineteen years old, Abigail and John survive AU. Implied malnourishment Loosely proofread, lmk if I missed anything. just 'you.'
credits...
thank you so much for the love on the last post!! lmk if you want me to write more of this series. part one.
One of my mutuals gave me this idea, so thank you so much @creamqueen <3.
puppy love trope implied with jack marston <3.
Throughout the short period of knowing the marston family, you managed to make a name for yourself in that household. You were popular within the walls of the ranch because it seemed like the couple's lovestruck son didn't ever stay quiet about you, everyday either John or Abigail had to hear about how pretty you were, how you were such a sweetheart, the looks that you give him, and the list seemed to go on without a stop.
Abigail and John both enjoyed your company in that small amount of time of meeting them couple weeks back. Abigail basically became the mother you never had due to her wanting to teach you everything and anything because you were never able to experience that growing up. She loved the sweet mannerisms that would escape your lips whenever you thanked her for something she would've considered small - hand sewing your clothes, fixing up old clothes that had holes in them, teaching you new recipes and she adored whenever you would compliment her food, knowing you aren't as lucky as most, causing her to insist on giving you more food because your small and malnourished body always makes her heart break.
She was also grateful that her son managed to find someone sweet as you, she was afraid that the morales and respectful demeanor she stuck into that boy's head would've gone to waste on someone who was a bad influence. Afterall, she didn't want her son to be following the same path they were running away from for years.
John was no different to you, he was carrying towards you in his own way, he would back up his beloved wife when they tried to convince you to stay over, always buying freshly new packed cigarettes for you and invites you out on the porch as he would tell you old stories of running in a gang - scolding you in the process not to make the same mistakes he did. He smuggles... insists giving you money whenever he would shove it in the pocket of your coat whenever Abigail would fix up your clothes, he knew that you needed it more to keep yourself stable because you'll decline the money otherwise. John decides to set up a room for you in the attic without telling you and gets his beloved wife's opinion aswell as the pair would decorate the room and put things you were lacking - warm blankets, couple of snacks, shoes, clothes and whatever else jack tells them that you needed at the moment.
Both parents also took notice of how Jack no longer called you by your first name. Anytime he spoke about you at dinner, he would call you sweetheart, love, darling, honey or anything that came to his mind that caused his cheeks to grow a rosy red.
He was excited for you to see the room they set up for you, it meant that you finally you have a chance to relax and enjoy a fully cushioned bed without having to worry about bills or food. It also meant that he gets to see you more often and spend more time with you.
He knows that your not fully moved in yet, but the thought of you staying here for a couple of nights makes the young man excited, Afterall he misses you whenever your not around.
...
When you found yourself on the property that belonged to the Marston's once again, you were learning back in the chair as your boyfriends father spoke about his past, mentioning couple members of the gang he used to run in. He slipped a pack of cigarettes to you like he does normally, insisting that you should take one or more.
You don't know how you found yourself smoking cigarettes as the cold wind blew against you to Jack showing the new room they are allowing you to stay in for however you'll like with a big grin on his face - excited that your going to stay over for a couple more nights than just one.
It still didn't change the fact that his arms were wrapped tightly against you, his nose buried deep in your neck as he muttered reassuring words, hoping you'll accept the offer as you two laid down on the small bed, squished together making the proximity closer.
...
Most cases whenever you stayed over, Jack would either be in the room that is considered yours or you'll be in his. You two would sleep until Jack would wake you up, hearing Abigail scold both of you through the door, stating that it's late and breakfast is already cold. Depending on the gunslingers mood, sometimes he would smart-mouth his mother just to hold you longer, causing him to get scolded more.
You two would help John with ranch work, he would always try to impress you in some type of way or both of you would get distracted and his father would scold you both.
thank you so much for reading! please do not repost my work on any other platform, reblogs and likes are very appreciated! <3. masterlist
#john marston#rdr1#red dead fandom#red dead redemption community#red dead redemption 2#rdr2#red dead redemption two#rdr2 john#adult jack marston#rai's rambles.#jack marston nation#jack marston x reader#rdr1 jack#jack marston
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What's your hcs for john marston in like modern time
oh i am so glad u asked, 26 yr old john in my modern timeline is my mind's pride and joy.
that man is unemployed. he is sooo unemployed but somehow he aaaalways has money 🤨 idk where he's getting it. i like to imagine in modern times in as the adopted son of gay dads dutch and hosea (of course), he is more prepared for fatherhood but also still not bc to counteract the stability i have given him i think it makes sense that he ends up a very ill prepared young father (accidentally got abigail pregnant when they were like 17/18 and were NOT trying lol) but he is a very enthusiastic father, despite his cluelessness. so is he rly unemployed or is he just a stay at home father <3 he spends his time harassing his employed friends and family with jack in tow and loving his girlfriend for buying him a ps5.
rapid fire under the cut!
he has a bunch of yucky awful stick and poke tattoos he did in a very not sterile manner.
classic "he's alive!!!" when he exits his room energy in the living situation do u know what i mean
nerds gummy clusters
fell asleep in dog beds as a kid
"john is a bright student but could apply himself better" kind of student if u know what i mean
(he is neurodivergent)
happy meal enjoyer
it could be projecting but i just think he would have a cannabis dependency. look at him
#also in every timeline autism is at the forefront of the way i characterize him and i can no longer separate that sorry#i am not sorry actually#that's an autistic man it's inarguable in my brain#anyway i love modern john#modern au is where i fix all the problems i wanna fix and leave the drama where it matters :)#anyway!#thanks for giving me this opportunity#modern au#ask
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Outlaw's Masterlist :)
Asks open :) Feel free to ask for Headcannons, or oneshots! I do fluff, or smut (I don't write anything violent, if you want specifics you can ask anonymously if you want <3)
Arthur Morgan💗
General Relationship Headcannons (pt. 1)
General Relationship Headcannons (pt. 2)
How Clingy are the RDR2 Boys? (HCs)
Charles Smith💕
General Relationship Headcannons
NSFW Headcannons
Charles x Reader Oneshot (GN! Reader)
How Clingy are the RDR2 Boys? (HCs)
Charles x Virgin! Reader (NSFW HCs)
Micah Bell💛
Micah x Reader (Oneshot)
Micah during pregnancy, and as a father (HCs)
How Clingy are the RDR2 Boys? (HCs)
Javier Escuella💜
Javier Escuella Relationship Headcannons
Javier Escuella Fluff Headcannons
How Clingy are the RDR2 Boys? (HCs)
Sean MacGuire
Sean MacGuire General Relationship HCs
Modern! Sean x Reader (smut, oneshot)
How Clingy are the RDR2 Boys? (HCs)
Hosea Matthews ❣️
Hosea as a Dad to a Young Adult!Reader (HCs)
Kerian Duffy💕💗💕💗💕
General Headcannons for Keiran
Bill Williamson 💙
How Clingy are the RDR2 Boys? (HCs)
Dutch Van Der Linde ❤️
How Clingy are the RDR2 Boys? (HCs)
John Marston🖤
How Clingy are the RDR2 Boys? (HCs)
#rdr2 x reader#rdr2 fanfic#rdr2 fanfiction#rdr2#red dead redemption 2#arthur morgan x reader#charles smith x reader#micah x reader#red dead redemption x reader#sean macguire x reader#john marston x reader#javier escuella headcannons#javier escuella rdr2#javier escuella x reader
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Javier Escuella X F.Reader - It's never to late to repent (Part 3)
(Pictures found on pinterest/google. That one with Javier/John is mine. Collage made by me 🌺)
Many thanks to @fangirl-ramblings 🖤 she has been beta reading for me 🌹
The third chapter is online 🥰 thanks to all who read and like my story 🐝🌺 I hope you will enjoy the this chapter too!
@fangirl-ramblings @rose-of-black-blood @livingdeadgirly @coaxium-captain-rex @12timetraveler @butterballchannie @charlesjaviersimp @ashethesimp @planetahmane @snoowply @sylum @noodle-tm @karmashatty
If anyone of you want to be tagged to not miss the newest chapter, please let me know 🙏 If you want me to take you off the list, please tell me
👉Read part 1 / part 2 / part 4
Warning: Very emotional (I think), hurt and comfort
Summary: The wait seems to have no end for you and you are about to just give up. Why wait for a man who has probably finally finished with you? But this little spark of hope... Could you let go so easily? What helps you during this time is the reunion with John Marston, who has always been a good friend to you...
Javier Escuella X F.Reader - It's never to late to repent (Part 3)
"Good morning, miss."
"Good morning!"
The man behind the counter smiled sympathetically at you as he told you that still no letter had come for you. He was sorry to see your sad eyes.
"I'm sure it will come soon. Just be patient, miss."
With a gentle nod, you thanked the man and suppressed your tears. Two weeks had passed and there was no word from Javier. You had hoped so much that he would reach out for you. Your last meeting had gone well! So why hadn't you heard from him? Was he still angry with you? Were you that naive? It hurt terribly. You'd been waiting for Javier for so many years… Maybe it was time to just give up, forget about him. Obviously he didn't want to know about you anymore.
"Y/N?"
Hearing your name, you were surprisingly jolted out of your thoughts. You turn around, curious to know who it could be. And when you saw the young man in front of you, you could hardly believe your eyes.
"John?!"
"Oh, my… How are you?"
Neither John nor you hesitated. Instantly you fell into each other's arms and John hugged you tightly.
"John! What a joy to see you!"
It instantly gave you back so much joy and so much strength, that you were able to push back your disappointment in Javier. You had not expected John at all, and the joy was great! Very, very great! The last time you saw John was when you escaped together. After that, you lost sight of each other but you were so happy that he was alive and that he had made it. You slowly broke away from the embrace to look at him more closely.
"You look… different, John."
He looked like a hard-working farmer. He had let his beard grow a little, so the scars on his face were even more noticeable.
"You look different too…. ehm, good! You look good."
You had to laugh at his words. I guess he still had a hard time with compliments.
"Thank you, John! Where's Abigail? Jack?"
"Oh, um…"
John cleared his throat, looking down at the floor, because it didn't seem easy for him to talk about his family.
"She… she took Jack and left me, Y/N."
Frowning, you couldn't even realize what John had just said at first. But judging from his hurt look, it was just as he had said.
"Oh, John. I'm so sorry about that…"
"Yeah… Me too…"
More broken hearts…
The silence that fell between you didn't please John at all, so he tried to steer the topic in another direction.
"What brings you to Strawberry, Y/N?"
"I live here now. Not far from town!"
"Wow. It's beautiful up here. You picked a nice place to live."
"Yes. It's quiet and the people here are very friendly."
John smiled warmly at you and you returned his gesture because it was so good to see an old friend again. It helped you make your day a little better.
"And what about you John? I'm surprised to see you here!"
"I'm currently living on a farm near Little Creek River. That's where I work too."
It was nice to hear that he had found a job to live an honest life. He had also moved on, shedding his past. Not the memory, certainly. But the way of life.
"I'm very proud of you, John."
"Oh, thank you…"
It was unusual for the young man to hear such words, they came very rarely. But it only reminded him of how loving you always were to him and the other members. You were always good at building other people up, giving them courage and a good feeling.
"I… actually came here to receive some supplies. For the farm."
That's when John walked up to the counter, asking the postal worker for his goods.
"Can I give you a ride, Y/N? My wagon's outside."
"Sure. Why not. Thanks!"
John had some goods, which he stowed on his wagon with your help. During the trip at home, you couldn't get the fact that Abigail had left him out of your mind. But you also didn't want to pry and ask what exactly had happened. Nevertheless, you wanted to show him that you would always have an open ear for him because you knew all too well how painful a separation was. The way home was not long.
"Thank you, John."
"You're welcome."
You got down from the car and looked up at John. You had just met again, after all, and you didn't want to let him go just yet.
"John, why don't you come in for a cup of tea or coffee? How about it? I've got some pie there too!"
"Blueberry pie?"
You had to smile, because John seemed to remember that you had baked a lot and liked to bake for the gang.
"Yeah, that one."
John playfully screwed up his face like; damn it! That's the one I love so much!
"I really appreciate it, but I can't. My boss is waiting for his delivery. He's very impatient, you must know."
"Oh… okay…"
Of course you could understand that he was busy, but it was still a pity. You would have liked to have had more time with him. Maybe this was one of the few opportunities you would have to see each other. When John saw the look on your face, he took heart. His boss could wait a bit, he would think of an excuse.
"I…think I have time for a piece of pie. And coffee doesn't sound bad either."
Satisfied with his decision, you lead him to your home. It was a small, pretty cabin. You had put up lots of dried flowers. There were some in the tiny hallway, in the kitchen, and even in the bedroom. In your kitchen there was a big dining table. The living room and kitchen formed one room. There was even a fireplace in the living room to keep you well through the winters.
"Nice place you have here."
"Thank you. I feel very comfortable here too. Sit down John, won't take long."
"Thanks."
While you made the coffee and placed some of the cake on the plates, John looked around silently. Everything seemed to have its place.
"John, um…would you like to talk? About Abigail?"
"Huh? Oh, sorry. What did you say?"
You had brought him out of his thoughts, had barely caught what you had said.
"If you want to talk. About your current situation with Abigail."
But John just puffed, shaking his head.
"There's not much to say, Y/N. She took Jack and just left me. Just like that."
He was angry, you could tell.
"I'm… not a perfect man now, Y/N. But she always wanted the perfect guy. One who doesn't make mistakes. But that's not me. I try hard to live an honest life!"
"Oh, John… I know it hurts…"
You were a poor judge of the situation. Abigail must have had her reasons for leaving him, but what she had done it for, she couldn't say. With a sad expression on your face, you put your hand on his shoulder sympathetically.
There was only a soft sigh from John as he stared down at his hands.
"I haven't heard from them in almost a year…"
You listened to his words as you poured the freshly brewed coffee into the cups to bring to the table.
"I sent many letters, even went to see them once, but Abigail seemed to have finally finished with me."
"I… I don't know what to say, John."
Only that you were very sorry and had actually hoped that he and Abigail would become the family they deserved.
"Like I said," John said, glancing at you as you took a seat next to him. "There's not much to say."
♦♦♦♦
With a tender smile, you put your hand on his, squeezing it gently. You wished you could tell him that the pain would become more bearable with time. But you couldn't, because it would simply be a lie. The only thing you could do was tell him to look forward.
"You know John, they say what you love, let go. If it comes back to you, it stays with you. Forever."
But John could only chuckle at your words, yet he thought it was sweet of you to try to cheer him up.
"You're a good woman, Y/N. I hope Javier knows what he threw away back then."
When his name came up, you averted your eyes from John. John was certainly right about that, but, well….
"We've all made mistakes in our past, John. Javier's not the only one…"
"We were like brothers. He had said so himself. And then? Then he sided with Dutch and Micah. To me, he's nothing but a traitor!"
Hearing John talk about Javier hurt you deeply, but you couldn't blame John either. He was hurt and disappointed in Javier.
"Oh, John…we have to stop judging the mistakes of others. It doesn't undo anything either."
Your voice was soft, it almost seemed to John like you were on the verge of tears.
"I'm sorry… I know how much you loved Javier. I… shouldn't have mentioned him."
Should you tell John about Javier? Maybe they could talk things out? Maybe they could become friends again? Like they were back then? But John was clearly not on good terms with Javier. Maybe it wasn't the right time yet.
"It's all right, John. All that was… a long time ago…"
"Yeah…"
"Javier, good work in Saint Denis! The customer is very happy!"
"Mhm… thanks…"
Mister Hazard owned a small carpentry shop. Javier was one of his best workers and he was very proud of him. And Mister Hazard was a man who cared about his workers. He could tell by the look on Javier's face that he was not well at all. He had been very withdrawn for several weeks. Javier had always radiated a kind of sadness and sorrow, but it had gotten worse.
"What's wrong, Javier?"
Mr. Hazard sat down by the fire with Javier. The latter was carving on a piece of wood, probably just to get his mind off things.
"Nothing… it's… everything is fine…", Javier said with a quiet sigh. Okay, he wouldn't believe himself either. Mister Hazard was not a moron.
"Come on. What's wrong?"
Javier gazed into the fire for quite a while, his blade passing over the piece of wood again and again, slowing down and slowing down. Until finally he began to speak.
"You know, I often miss my home. But… then, well… I've lived in America for so many years now, my heart, my soul, belong here too. They belong… To her."
"Mhm… and what is her name, my friend?"
Javier sighed heavily, turning his gaze to Mister Hazard.
"Y/N. Her name is Y/N. And because of a very stupid decision, I had thrown it all away. Had thrown her love away. Our plans, our future. Everything."
Javier shook his head as he inwardly cursed himself. Mister Hazard nodded at him, now able to slowly comprehend what was going on inside the young man.
"I've made some stupid mistakes too, Javier."
"I doubt they were as big as mine, Mister Hazard."
But Mister Hazard just chuckled, put a hand on his shoulder, looking at him.
"Son, listen to me. I know that it can be hard to forgive yourself. But I also know that self-pity and self-loathing only make things worse."
Javier's pained expression was hard to bear, for Mister Hazard really liked him.
"If there's a chance to make it right, take it Javier."
But Javier shook his head slightly, biting his lower lip gently.
"I… have seen her. A few weeks ago, I met Y/N. After five long years, and I wanted to run away. Like a coward."
Javier gasped, laughing at himself.
"She wouldn't let me go."
Mister Hazard leaned back a bit as he listened to the young man.
"I… almost couldn't even look her in the eye. I can't even forgive myself. How is she supposed to love me anymore?"
But once again, Javier was only given a gentle smile. Mister Hazard was a bit older than Javier and had gained his life experiences and he wanted to share them with him. He could understand all too well how he felt and he wanted to prevent him from making any more mistakes.
"Some people are capable of loving someone so much that they would forgive anything. They would go through hell to preserve the life of a loved one. Y/N came up to you even though you committed a grave mistake. She wouldn't let you go because she didn't want to lose you again."
After all these years, Javier got the chance to pour his heart out and it was good to hear that there was hope. Deep down, Javier knew that he was only making things worse with his stubborn head. Maybe this conversation needed to happen to wake him up.
"Don't let your love pass, Javier. Everyone makes mistakes and what happened can't be undone. But you can learn from them and you have to look forward."
Javier's gaze turned to the campfire and instantly your beautiful face came before his eyes.
"Tell her how much you love her and how much you long for her."
"I…"
"Now the time has come. Your paths have led you back to each other. This is no coincidence, my boy."
"The look on her face… when I broke her heart back then…"
Pain filled Javier and he closed his eyes, squeezing them shut to suppress the pain in his chest.
"You know what I regret, Javier? Huh?"
Javier looked to his boss, whose eyes had become glassy, and he sighed deeply before speaking up again.
"That I had often not been a good husband to my Marie. I ask her forgiveness every day, for every day in the course of our marriage that I had put the fulfillment of my desires above hers."
Javier knew that Mister Hazard had once been married, and Javier could be sure he knew what he was talking about. So he listened to him carefully.
"To forgive me for every moment I broke her heart and didn't give a damn."
Javier sat back, close to tears, because the man's words touched him. He saw himself in this story.
"And I ask her to forgive me for the countless moments I neglected to tell her…how…. infinitely I loved her."
A small pause occurred between them. It was obvious to Mister Hazard that the memories of his wife tormented him greatly, and yet he shared them with Javier.
"I…"
Mister Hazard swallowed, the lump in his throat growing larger, and he averted his eyes from Javier for a moment.
"I was so sure that we would still have time for this. But that was a mistake, Javier. And now I stand at her grave every day and have to ask her forgiveness. Hoping that maybe she'll hear me, maybe she'll see me."
♦♦♦♦
Javier felt the salty tears running down his cheeks. This man carried this pain with him and it opened his eyes.
"Therefore Javier, now is the time. Don't run away from her, but reach out for your love. Enjoy the day together as if it were your last. And live!"
The young man had understood and he was grateful for this conversation.
"If you want to make love, do it now! If you wanted to ask forgiveness, ask now! Because if you don't, you'll end up like me, and you'll never be able to hold her in your arms again, Javier."
"I… understand. I understand…"
Javier knew it was now or never. Instantly, the young man rose from his seat and walked toward the stables to retrieve his stallion. He had lost far too much time…
You were just about to pour freshly brewed coffee into your cup when there was a knock at your door. It was still early in the morning and you were not expecting anyone. But you thought it might be John. In the last few days he had come to visit you quite often. But at this hour? It was only seven o'clock in the morning. Still, you went to the door.
"Who is it?"
"Y/N…"
Your eyes grew wide as you recognized the voice.
"It's me, Javier."
Instantly you opened the door. Could this really be? You could hardly believe it when you saw him standing in front of you.
Javier had ridden all night to be with you as soon as possible. Judging by the expression on his face, he looked very saddened and you saw again the shame, that guilt in his eyes.
"May I… come in, Y/N?"
You looked at him, your words stuck in your throat…
#javier escuella#javier escuella x female reader#javier escuella x y/n reader#rdr2#red dead redemption#fanfiction#my fanfictions#john marston#romance#heartbreak#lost of love#break up#strawberry#west elisabeth#feelings#longing#y/n reader#drama#hurt and comfort
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RDR3 Pitch:Landon Ricketts and Jack Marston as the main playable characters
There is an appeal to play as Dutch, Hosea and young Arthur in the rise of the Van der Linde Gang. But we already have the perfect protagonist to show us the golden age of the Wild West and that protagonist is Landon Ricketts.
For a more in depth look on what a RDR3 game about Landon Ricketts could look like, watch this video
youtube
We don't need to explore the Van der Linde gang any further imo. The best course of action is to explore the exploits of Landon Ricketts.
Story would be we play as a young Landon Ricketts in 1885 This would be when the west was much wilder. He is trying to make a name for himself with bounty hunting and in the process his wife gets killed so it sets him off on a path of revenge and self discovery while becoming the most badass gunslinger in the west.
Not much is known about the early life of Landon Ricketts. He was a renowned gunslinger during the height of the Wild West, so much so that stories of his legendary exploits were well-known by the time gunslingers like John and Arthur were coming of age. Players have already heard of his more well-known stories, such as his famed duel against The Butcher Brothers in 1896.
A cigarette card featuring an image of Landon Ricketts and
The Butcher Brothers can be found in Red Dead Redemption 2, further fueling the mystery and intrigue behind Ricketts' adversaries during his days in the Wild West. While Red Dead Redemption 2 captured the spirit of the Wild West in many ways, Arthur's story ultimately takes place in the closing chapters of that era. Players have been clamoring for a game set in the Wild West proper for some time now.
According to a newspaper article found in Red Dead Redemption, Landon was in some way involved in The Blackwater Massacre that kicks off the events of Red Dead Redemption 2. The article never clarifies exactly how Ricketts was involved, but he's cited as a "survivor" of the massacre. Apparently, it affected Ricketts so deeply that he decided to hang up his hat and move to Chuparosa in 1902 to live a quieter life. The Blackwater Massacre could serve as a promising pretext for Red Dead Redemption's next prequel.
The Blackwater Massacre is among the most compelling expositional frames in recent history, and the mystery surrounding that day is part of the reason why Red Dead Redemption 2 continues to be so popular. The fact that The Blackwater Massacre bookended Ricketts's career as a gunslinger dovetails nicely with the starting point of Red Dead Redemption 2, making it the perfect ending point for Red Dead Redemption 3. Finally, players could get a first-hand look at exactly what went down in Blackwater.
But despite these tangential connections to the Van der Linde gang's activities, the most compelling reason to feature Ricketts in the next Red Dead Redemption game is that he's not directly involved in the origin stories of John, Arthur, Dutch, and the rest of the gang. Ricketts is a legendary figure in his own right, and his narrative can stand on its own legs without needing to rehash origin stories or repeat content from Red Dead Redemption 2.
This is what disqualifies Dutch as a possible protagonist for another Red Dead prequel. While many would like to see a younger Dutch in action, players know his descent into madness well. Again, John and Arthur were compelling protagonists because players didn't know how their stories would unfold: John's demise wasn't foretold, and Arthur was an entirely unknown character when Red Dead Redemption 2 was released.
The vast majority of Ricketts' story is shrouded in legend, leaving plenty of room for creative license.
First half of the game is about Landon's life as a gunslinger who killed for fame and glory, his wife is killed by The Butcher Brothers and this sets him on the path of revenge, eventually he turns to a path of a marshall and ends in Blackwater, the events of Blackwater scars Landon and sends him to Mexico. Then the final parts are about Landon's redemption arc and becoming a hero of the Mexican people.
And later in the Epilogue 1 (now playing as Jack Marston), we'll have Landon meet a 16 year old Jack after John's death, training him, which would now explain why Jack became so skilled in just a span of 3 years. And in the epilogue 2, Landon would pass peacefully in his sleep as said in the newspapers during RDR1, and now Jack (a 19 year old) will get his revenge on Ross. Exploring more on the continuation of Jack's story.
Side note. I am well aware Ross Hagen passed away in 2011. But I think they can find someone young to voice Ricketts young days and maybe get Sam Elliot to voice Ricketts to make up for Hagen's passing.
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Arthur Morgan
All works are 18+, mdni
Take Me Home (Country Roads)
Running away from home is such an easy decision until you realize you're a young woman in a time where young women are neither revered nor respected. Perhaps the only way to gain favor is to be something else entirely.
Arthur x oc!reader (slight descriptions, red hair)
1. Texas Red
2. Gunslinger
3. Worthiness
4. John Fucking Marston
5. Blood Stains
. . . (More to follow)
#arthur morgan#arthur morgan x reader#read dead redemption 2#rdr2#reader insert#dutch van der linde#van der linde gang#texas red
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stormchaser
Pairing: John Marston x gn!reader
Summary: Abigail Roberts joins the gang. Your relationship with John is changed, maybe forever.
Warnings: Pregnancy mention, hunting animals, brief mention of dead animals, canon-typical alcohol use, jealousy
Word count: 1,385
A/N: First of all I need to specify that Ghost is jealous of Abigail and thinks badly of her rn, but this story will not vilify Abigail’s character in any way!!! I love her!!!! Second of all it’s not terribly long but I hope you all find this chapter as juicy as I did bc I’ve been looking forward to this one pretty much from the start. Also this chap is 2/3 in a series, the first being ‘cloudburst’. The last one will be ‘thunderstruck’ - I’ll let you do with that info what you will 👀
Series masterlist • AO3
—
When Abigail Roberts joins up with the gang everyone clamors for her attention. The women help with her chores and mend her dresses and pet her long, dark hair. The men make excuses to come by her tent and help her onto wagons and touch her hand by the campfire. It’s obvious why; she’s a beautiful young woman.
You’re not sure you’ll ever forgive her for that.
Of course, you might not have minded at all if it wasn’t for John. He’s smitten. Every moment he used to spend riding or robbing or roaming with you is now spent at her beck and call. You tell yourself it’s not jealousy that crawls up your throat and colors his name green in your mouth when you call across camp, knowing who he’s with. You tell yourself it’s a coincidence when you wake up next to a pretty, painted whore with dusky blue eyes and brown hair just like hers the next time you’re in town. You even tell yourself that it doesn’t hurt to watch the grey of John’s eyes shine stormcloud bright when they turn toward the object of his affections. When that object isn’t you.
Like some storybook romance he courts her. It’s clumsy - it’s John - but he brings her half-crushed flowers, and tries to read her some of Dutch’s poetry, and eventually he stops paying for the privilege of a night with her because they cut out the middleman and start sharing a tent.
Arthur notices your sulkiness. Hosea, too, though neither say anything outright. Instead they break your heart further with sad, understanding smiles and warm hands clasped on your shoulder in passing. Sometimes you wish they’d spill your secrets for the whole camp to see, just to put you out of your misery.
The days you aren’t out hunting you’re fencing horses or robbing farmers - anything to keep far from camp. Once a week you come back with cash to add to the box and a few new stories to trade around the campfire. Dutch is appeased by the money and the odd tip you bring home, and John—
You wait for him to say something about how distant you’ve been.
He doesn’t.
—
The sky is clear when Abigail announces her pregnancy in front of the whole camp a few months later, but you smell a storm on the horizon.
She’s so goddamn happy, and everyone cheers and shouts and rushes to hug her, and you think Ms. Grimshaw’s eyes gloss with tears at the promise of new life and young love, but John’s smile catches at the corners. It doesn’t quite reach his eyes. The panic does, and as much as your heart is already broken and you’ve given up hope, there’s some savage satisfaction you get from knowing he might be miserable now, too.
Dutch calls for a celebration. Everyone clamors to break out cases of beer and Hosea even proffers the good whiskey he’s been saving for a rainy day. Top shelf, according to the man he stole it from. Pearson sweats himself into a frenzy to have a good, hearty meal prepared in time. Ms. Grimshaw has the camp cleared and clean with military precision. Javier settles next to the campfire with a song just waiting to sing off the strings of his guitar with each joyful strum.
You slink away and pack your gear for a hunting trip.
After a feast like this the camp will need game, and you’ve always found the most success right before weather hits, when the animals are out getting the last bit of sustenance they can before hunkering down in the brush. You clasp Abigail’s hands and congratulate her, trying not to make the words sound like a curse before you fade into firelight shadows. While the others dance and sing, you nurse a bottle that does nothing to dull the ache in your heart.
You’re gone before first light.
—
The grassy plain is wide open and endless before you. Tall grass rises up to the stirrups of your saddle, and thunder rumbles its electric intent in the distance. Overcast clouds promise rain on the breeze as the sky gets darker and darker. It’s a cobalt blue sort of storm, one that paints the grass greyish and strikes your silhouette onto the American frontier for anyone in the distance to see.
A herd of pronghorn graze the prairie grass. You’ve been tracking them for a few miles now. Downwind. A safe enough distance away that they’re worried more about the oncoming storm than potential predators.
Two does, you think, ought to be enough.
You’re shit with a bow and arrow, so you rely entirely on being quick on the draw of your hunting rifle. Perks of spending the better part of your life as a gunslinger.
Your horse tenses beneath you as you raise your rifle up, muscles coiled and ready to spring into action. You let out a slow, steady breath. Bang, bang, in quick succession on the trigger has your horse leaping forward. You let his momentum carry you while the rest of the herd scatters in frantic leaps and bounds.
Two clean shots await your inspection when you crouch to tie the bodies and sling them behind the saddle. Rain begins to fall. The wind carries hoofbeats your way, and you turn with your rifle raised on the off chance some fool hunter is coming to try and steal your quarry.
“Ghost, there you are!”
Not a fool hunter, but a fool.
“John,” you say past the anger and jealousy burrowed deep in your chest. “What are you doing here?”
He shakes his head. “I was gonna ask you the same thing. You left without sayin’ a word.”
“Surprised you noticed,” you scoff.
“You wanna tell me why you been actin’ so funny lately?”
You fold your arms. “You followed me all the way out here just to tell me I don’t act right?”
“Everyone else is happy,” he says. “Guess I’m just wonderin’ why you ain’t.”
There are a thousand things you could say to that. I’ve been in love with you since before I knew what that warm feeling was in my chest. We were best friends and then you chose a stranger over me, and now that stranger is going to have your baby. Sometimes, when I dream, I dream of us getting old on a farm out West where the law won’t ever touch us. I think of you every time it storms. You say none of it.
The rain falls harder.
“I know you, John Marston,” is what comes out your mouth instead. “You look more scared than happy to me.”
“I ain’t scared,” he says, snappish and too-fast.
“I am.” The smile on your face is sad, and it stops the defensive snarl trying to form across his face. “Guess that’s why I came out here, away from it all.”
Lightning strikes in the not-far distance. The flash lights your surroundings in an eerie daytime glow for a heartbeat and a half. The thunder that rolls across the plain not long after makes you feel even smaller than you did already.You pull your coat tighter around your shoulders.
“I’m camping here tonight. Room in the tent for two if you want.”
It’s even flimsier than your usual peace offerings, but he takes it. On the edge of the prairie you strike the tent while he pickets the horses. The rain is coming down in sheets, now, and you’re both forced to strip to your underthings because your clothes are entirely soaked through. The blankets and bedrolls are damp, but drier than the two of you. As you settle into sleep to the sound of pelting rain against canvass, John’s roll tucked up against yours, you hear a raspy voice speak up.
“You were right,” John says. “I’m scared of— well, all of it. Raisin’ this kid. Disappointing Abigail. But I’m more scared of losing you, Ghost. We’re best friends, ain’t we?”
Your chest constricts. “‘Course we’re best friends. You won’t lose me.”
Then, so quiet you almost miss it, “Haven’t I already?”
The tears that run down your face are silent, and dark as it is you pray he can’t see them. Thunder and rain drown out your shuddering sigh.
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RDR
"Red Dead Redemption" is a Western-themed action-adventure video game developed by Rockstar San Diego and published by Rockstar Games. It was released in May 2010 for PlayStation 3 and Xbox 360. The game is a spiritual successor to 2004's "Red Dead Revolver" but is not a direct sequel. "Red Dead Redemption" is the second game in the Red Dead series and is set during the decline of the American Frontier in the year 1911.
The game follows John Marston, a former outlaw, whose wife and son are taken hostage by the government in ransom for his services as a hired gun. Marston is forced to bring three members of his former gang to justice. The story explores themes of loyalty, morality, and the end of the Wild West era as Marston struggles to reconcile his tumultuous past with his family's safety and his own principles.
"Red Dead Redemption" is praised for its open-world gameplay, in which players can explore the vast, fictionalized Western United States and parts of Mexico, either on foot or by horseback. The game features a morality system, where players' actions affect their reputation in the game world, and an extensive single-player storyline with main and side missions. It also includes various multiplayer modes.
The game's open-world environment allows players to interact with the world and its inhabitants in multiple ways. They can engage in activities such as hunting, gambling, and bounty hunting. The game also features a "Dead Eye" targeting system, which allows players to slow down time for shooting accuracy.
"Red Dead Redemption" received critical acclaim for its story, voice acting, gameplay, and music. It won numerous Game of the Year awards and is considered one of the greatest video games of all time. Its success led to the development of a prequel, "Red Dead Redemption 2," which was released in October 2018. The sequel further expanded on the universe, focusing on the story of Arthur Morgan, a member of the Dutch van der Linde gang, which John Marston was also part of.
RDR2
"Red Dead Redemption 2" (RDR2) is an epic Western-themed action-adventure video game developed and published by Rockstar Games. It was released in October 2018 for PlayStation 4 and Xbox One, with a version for Microsoft Windows launching in November 2019, and for the Google Stadia platform in November 2019 as well. Serving as both a prequel to the 2010 game "Red Dead Redemption" and the third installment in the Red Dead series, RDR2 has been highly praised for its story, characters, open-world design, and attention to detail.
The game is set in a fictionalized version of the United States at the turn of the 20th century, in 1899, and follows Arthur Morgan, a senior member of the Van der Linde gang. The story explores the gang's decline as they are pursued by lawmen and bounty hunters across the American frontier. Throughout the game, players experience the challenges faced by outlaws during the closing days of the American Wild West and the onset of the modern age. The narrative also delves into Arthur's complex relationships with other gang members, including the charismatic and idealistic gang leader Dutch van der Linde, and a young John Marston, the protagonist of the first "Red Dead Redemption."
RDR2 is renowned for its vast, immersive open world that players can explore. The game features diverse landscapes, including mountains, forests, plains, and swamps, all teeming with wildlife. It introduces several improvements over its predecessor, such as an enhanced "Dead Eye" system for precision shooting, a more dynamic weather system, and a deeper interaction system with NPCs (non-playable characters). Players can engage in numerous activities like hunting, fishing, gambling, and bounty hunting, as well as side missions and random encounters that contribute to the game's realism and depth.
The game also includes a detailed honor system that affects how the world reacts to the player based on their actions. Positive deeds, such as helping strangers and upholding the law, will improve Arthur's honor, while negative actions, like committing crimes and causing chaos, will lower it. This system influences the game's narrative and character interactions, adding to the player's immersion.
Upon release, "Red Dead Redemption 2" received universal acclaim, with critics lauding its story, characters, and vast, detailed world. It was praised as a landmark in video game design, noted for its ambition and the quality of its execution. The game achieved significant commercial success, breaking several sales records and receiving numerous awards.
In addition to the single-player experience, the game introduced "Red Dead Online," a multiplayer mode where players can explore the game's world, engage in various cooperative and competitive game modes, and create their own stories with customized characters.
"Red Dead Redemption 2" is considered by many as one of the greatest video games ever made, thanks to its compelling storytelling, dynamic open-world, and deep, engaging gameplay.
#rdr2 community#red dead redemption 2#rockstar games#arthur morgan#charles smith#javier escuella#red dead redemption#rdr2 arthur#tumblr polls#100 days of productivity#low poly#trendingnow#hyperspecific poll
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Tearful Reunions
read on Ao3
words: 3959
Jack comes across Pearson, Tilly, and Mary-Beth in his travels. He visits a grave and finds that going home doesn't hurt as badly anymore.
--
Chapter 3: Finding Peace
When he returned from Canada, Jack realized most of his supplies had been lost in the storm. Annoyed, he stopped by Hennigan’s Stead, watching Bonnie shout at one of her farm hands before heading down the stairs of her house. She did a double take upon seeing him, immediately breaking into a wide smile.
“The younger Mr. Marston!” She greeted kindly, walking right up to him as he slid off of his saddle. “Thought you might’ve gone off somewhere and gotten yourself in trouble. Where ya been?”
Jack smiled, bowing his head in greeting. “Hello, Miss MacFarlane. I been in Canada, actually. Visiting an old friend.”
Placing a hand on her hip, she tilted her head. “Oh, that’s nice. I heard it got pretty cold up there, but you survived it, somehow.”
“Yeah, somehow.”
“Are you back to ask for some more cattle? You know I’d always be happy to sell you some, if you’re willin’ to do me a few favors.” She laughed, nudging his shoulder. “I’m just kiddin’. Your family’s done me enough favors to last me a lifetime.”
The question made his smile falter, and he shook his head. “Uh, no, ma’am. Not lookin’ for cattle. At least, not now.” He cleared his throat. “Actually, I lost most of my supplies in the storm. I was headin’ to the general store.”
Bonnie smirked. “Well, you know where to find me when you need it. Go on. We just hired someone new at the store. His old store closed down, poor feller, but he’s real good. See ya around, Mr. Marston.” She waved, then headed toward the barn. Jack watched her for a moment, then grabbed the reins of his horse, leading her toward the store.
Once she was hitched, he headed up the steps and opened the creaky door, finding the store empty. “Hello?” he called, eyes scanning around for any sign of the clerk. He decided to let himself in, figuring he must be taking a smoke break or something, and began looking around, grabbing some of the things he needed. Rations, horse pills, tobacco. He went to the desk, placing them all down, and opened his mouth to call out again when something caught his eye.
A picture hung up on the wall behind the cashier’s desk, making Jack’s heart stop. It was the old gang. He could even see his own tiny face in the photo, standing happily beside his mother. He’d thought that John had killed the remaining gang members, yet this photo was here, proving them wrong. Had Bonnie lied about the shopkeeper? Who was he?
The door behind the desk swung open. “Sorry to keep you waitin’, friend, I was -”
An older man appeared, stopping in his tracks like a terrified deer. Jack blinked back. He looked familiar.
God, he looked familiar.
“John?” The man asked, his brows furrowing, his eyes shining a little. “But…Miss MacFarlane…she said you -”
“Sorry, friend. I ain’t John.” Speaking his father’s name felt so foreign on his tongue. He shifted his weight uncomfortably. “We…um…we must have met. A very long time ago.”
Jack watched the gears slowly turn in the man’s head, following his gaze toward the photo up on the wall. The man blinked once, twice, then gasped. “No…Jack?!” When he nodded, the man regarded him as if he was looking at a ghost. “Oh…Lord above. You’re all grown.”
“Yes, sir.” He smiled a little, leaning against the counter. “And I reckon we haven’t seen each other in fifteen years. I’m sorry, my memory isn’t very good…”
“Oh!” The man shook his head a little, reaching to grab the first thing on the counter that he could. “Oh, yeah. You was so young, of course…” Clearing his throat, he began scanning. “My name’s Pearson. I was…I was the cook.”
Suddenly, Jack remembered.
“Pssst. Jack. Here.” Pearson knelt down to his level, holding out a golden pear with a wide smile. “It’s the last one. I want you to have it.”
Jack gasped, reaching out to take the fruit with a slight confused smile. “Why?”
“You deserve somethin’ sweet more than all of us. Just don’t tell Uncle Bill, he’ll be sad I gave it to you instead of him.” Pearson winked, and Jack grinned, thanking him profusely.
Jack blinked, standing up straight. “I…remember. I remember you.”
Pearson’s eyes began watering as he continued to scan. “I’m glad to hear it. I never stopped thinking about everyone.”
“…Mrs. Adler is well. She’s living just outside Armadillo. A-And Charles is in Canada. He’s got a wife and kid now.” He couldn’t imagine how tough it must have felt, to have the gang, a family, suddenly disappear like mist through his fingers. “How are you, Mr. Pearson?”
“I’m glad to hear all that…” He paused for a moment, perhaps to collect himself, then pulled his gaze upward. “Happy, I think,” he said softly. “Got married a few years back. Working here has been good. The MacFarlanes’ are good folk. It’s just different.”
Pearson finished scanning in silence, and Jack gave him the money and placed things in his bag. “It was really nice to see you,” he said, genuinely. “I’ll come visit again.”
The man gave a watery smile. “I’d like that. Come visit me any time.”
“I will. I promise.”
Jack returned the smile, and headed out the door, greeted by the bright afternoon sun. He held a hand up to shield his eyes, happy to know he had another friend at the MacFarlane ranch.
***
South of Armadillo sat a beautiful park bustling with people. The first real warm day of the year, the trees rustled with the breeze and the sky was almost dazzlingly blue without a single cloud to dull it. Jack surveyed it all from a distance, remembering Charles’ family as he watched happy children run around while their parents talked on the bench.
Glancing across the park, he noticed a couple sitting on a bench together, his arm around her shoulders. She was laughing, and two children were playing with a frisbee right near them. Jack’s heart skipped a beat. She looked so familiar, he just knew that he was supposed to know her.
When she turned her head, he quickly turned his away, not wanting to be caught staring. He closed his eyes, trying to remember if he saw this woman in Pearson's photo. Instead, a blurry memory resurfaced, one that filled his entire heart with dread.
“Jack. Be brave, son. I’m gonna go get your Momma.”
The horse took off. Jack held onto its neck, squeezing his eyes shut while the woman guided it away from the forest. He didn’t dare speak, he didn’t dare move, he just held on until the horse slowed down. The woman behind him slid off the saddle, holding her hands up toward him.
“We’re here, Jack. You don’t gotta worry. Arthur will be here, and he’ll bring your Momma safe and sound.”
He opened his eyes, looking down at the woman below. She was young. Her voice had shaken a little as she spoke, but her face was steel. He leaned into her arms, and she slowly lifted him down from the horse, but didn’t let go of him yet. He buried his face in her chest, trying not to cry. “I’m scared, Miss Tilly.”
Her embrace tightened a little, smoothing down his hair. “I know, honey. I am too.”
Jack blinked the stinging out of his eyes, standing up to walk right over to the bench where she was sitting. “‘Scuse me. Don’t mean to bother you, but I believe we’ve met before, ma’am.”
The man frowned, looking toward his wife, who looked at Jack as if he were a ghost. Slowly, she stood up, looking him up and down, perhaps trying to process. “...Is it really you, Jack?” she whispered, barely audible.
A relieved sigh escaped his lips as he nodded, taking his hat off to greet her properly. “Yes, ma’am. It’s so good to see you again, Miss Tilly.”
She gasped, a hand flying over her mouth, tears pooling in her eyes. “Oh! And you remember!” Assuring her husband she would fill him in in just a moment, she looped her arm through Jack’s and they began walking. “My goodness. You’ve really grown. Last I saw you, you was barely the size of my knee.”
“I know.” He smiled softly, looking her over. She still looked just as young as he remembered, but happier. “You seem well.”
“Oh, I’m very well.” She smiled giddily. “My William is just so wonderful. And those two little ones over there are mine. I never could have imagined a life like this.” They stopped walking for a moment, watching William teach his young son how to throw the frisbee farther, while their daughter climbed up onto his back. Jack chuckled while Tilly turned her gaze back to him. “How are you? I heard that John…”
Jack nodded, hating to be the one to always give the news. “He was killed a few years back. I buried Ma almost two months ago.”
Taking a shaky breath, Tilly placed her hand over his. “I’m sorry, honey. I’m real sorry. Those detectives had always been the scum of the Earth. Heard they was braggin’ about using your Pa, then killed him.”
“That doesn’t surprise me.” He looked at her. “They won’t hurt me, or you. I took care of it.”
The words seemed to have the opposite effect of what he wanted, making her a little uneasy. “Oh, Jack. You’re still so young. To carry this burden…”
“Everyone has somethin’ to carry,” he grumbled, knowing that no one in that damn gang ever had a chance at peace. Why shouldn’t he have killed Ross? He pulled his arm away from her. “You should get back to your family.”
Immediately, he felt guilty as her eyes brimmed again. She hesitated, then leaned forward, pulling him into a hug. “Be well, Jack. I’ll be thinking of you.”
He slowly returned the hug, aware of how she seemed to melt into it. “You too, Miss Tilly. This ain’t goodbye.”
She held on a bit tighter, and he was reminded of that terrible day where they held each other, waiting, waiting, waiting.
***
“Did ya hear? Leslie Dupont is in Armadillo. But nobody knows what she looks like!”
“I wish I knew. I love her books. If I were her, I’d wanna let everyone know it was me.”
Jack walked past two strangers, but paused for a moment, turning over his shoulder. “Leslie Dupont?” he asked, tilting his head at the woman who spoke first. “Ain’t she the one who wrote The Lady of the Manor?”
The woman gasped, nodding. “Never woulda thought a man like you’d read something like that. That was one of her first.”
“My Pa bought it long ago. It was a very good story.” He looped his thumbs through his belt. “I would like to meet Ms. Dupont.”
The second woman scoffed. “So would I, but good luck findin’ her. She’s more secretive than Gaptooth Ridge. Dupont ain’t even her real name.”
Jack tilted his hat in their direction, then continued on walking, his gaze scanning Armadillo. There wasn’t even any guarantee that she would be here. He knew he ought to just keep going, but first, he stepped into the telegraph office. Producing a letter from his bag, he placed it gently on the counter. “Here you are. From a man named Sam Odessa. Please see it gets delivered safely to his poor wife.”
The man behind the counter nodded solemnly, taking it from him, and Jack turned away, exhaling. As he began walking toward his horse, he had the strangest feeling he was being watched. Looking around, he located a woman sitting outside the train station, an open book on her lap and sporting a slack jaw. For some reason, Jack was drawn to her, and carefully, he headed up the stairs.
“Are you alright, ma’am? You look like you’ve seen a ghost.”
“I might as well have,” she breathed, getting to her feet to look him over. “You look just like an old friend of mine, is all.”
Jack raised his brows. “What’s your name, ma’am?”
“Mary-Beth,” she breathed. “Mary-Beth Gaskill.”
Only one tent was still lit at this time of night. Jack slowly crawled over to it, peeking his head inside, where he found Mary-Beth scribbling away at a piece of paper. She caught sight of him out of the corner of her eye, and her brows furrowed with concern.
“Jack? It’s late. What are you doing here?”
“I can’t sleep…”
“Oh, sweet boy,” she murmured, gesturing for him to come closer. He did. “Would you like to hear a story I’m writing?”
Jack beamed excitedly. “Oh, yes!”
Her soft voice spun tales of wonder that made his eyelids feel heavy. He didn’t get to hear the ending.
Swallowing, Jack smiled slightly. “Well, my name’s Jack, Miss Mary-Beth.”
Shock and recognition all rolled into one on her face. She dropped the book on the floor in her haste to hug him. “Jack! Jack Marston! Oh, you’ve grown so tall! Look at you!”
He chuckled, returning the hug. “It’s good to see you.”
“And you!” She pulled away, beaming brightly. “Sweet boy. I’ve missed you. You look just like your father.”
“So I’ve been told.” Jack tried a smile, tilting his head. “How ya been?”
Mary-Beth bent down to pick up her book, closing it carefully while she spoke. “Good! I been good! Still on my own, but it ain’t so bad. I’ve been writing so many stories…” she lowered her voice. “Been publishin’ ‘em under the name Leslie Dupont.”
His jaw dropped. “You’re Ms. Dupont?” he whispered, his heart skipping a beat. “So that’s how Pa got that book. I read The Lady of the Manor a whole buncha times!”
Blushing a little at the compliment, she smiled. “You always did like stories, like me.”
“I remember,” he said softly, like he was just as surprised as she was. “I remember you reading to me.”
Tears filled her eyes, but none fell. “That was when it was just a dream. I never thought it would come true.”
“I’m glad it did, Miss Mary-Beth.”
Wiping her eyes, she placed a hand on his shoulder to give him a smile. “I have to get going. But I’ll write to you, Jack. I promise.”
“This ain’t goodbye,” he agreed, returning the smile. She squeezed his shoulder, then headed down the Armadillo path, leaving him alone but with a sense of peace.
***
Jack rode past Blackwater. He’d only gone a few times. When he was younger, Abigail and John would always exchange wary looks when Blackwater was brought up, and he never knew why. They didn’t tell him, and if it had something to do with the gang, he couldn’t remember it.
He was sure it had something to do with Uncle Dutch, but even the man’s face was barely a distant memory. He remembered he had large hands that would pat his head. He remembered hearing him raise his voice in distress often, quickly putting on a smile the second Uncle Hosea placed a hand on his arm, reminding him that Jack was around.
All of those men were blurry memories. John wanted to forget that life so badly that he never talked about them, and Jack was too young to remember.
But Charles talked about it when he asked. Jack asked about Bill and Javier. He asked about Dutch and Hosea. He even asked about Micah, and Charles, although he clearly felt a lot of resentment toward that man, answered his questions.
When he asked about Arthur, Charles’ breath seemed to leave his body.
“He was a good man. He’d tell you he wasn’t, but he was.”
Charles talked the most about Arthur, and Jack let him. He wanted to know about him. All he could really remember was the smell of smoke, a gentle but calloused hand on the shoulder, fishing together. He was not unlike a brother to John. That was why he had always been Uncle Arthur.
“How did he die, Charles?”
“…Tuberculosis. But if it weren’t for him, your father wouldn’t have been able to make it back to you. I was helping the nearby tribe, but everyone else in the gang turned on the two of them because of Micah’s influence on Dutch. There must have been some big fight on the mountain. When I got there a few days later, Arthur was laying alone, blue and dusted with light snow.”
Jack couldn’t help but reach out and touch Charles’ shoulder, knowing how tough it was to come across a loved one in that way. He went on to say that he buried him atop a mountain, facing the west, because it was what he would have loved.
Now, as he rode his horse up the trail, Jack turned his gaze up to the sky. Gold swirls danced among the clouds, making it a beautiful sunset. What he was doing here, he wasn’t quite sure. He didn’t believe that people who were dead could still hear them. Maybe it was just because he felt like he should see it, just once.
When he reached the top, he slid off of the saddle, glancing up at the small hut nearby as he began walking toward the peak. There, exactly where Charles said it was, was a grave. Its wood faded with the many years it had withstood the weather, he had to kneel down to read the words painstakingly etched into it.
Arthur Morgan. Blessed are those who hunger and thirst for righteousness.
A small bluejay landed atop the wood, pecking at it. Jack exhaled slowly, sitting cross-legged in the dew-covered grass beneath him.
“I wish I could remember you,” he whispered, feeling stupid the moment the words left his lips. He groaned at himself, wondering what had gotten into him. He wasn’t a boy anymore. He had to pull himself together.
The bluejay tilted its head back and forth jerkily, like it was listening for something. Jack sighed and closed his eyes, trying to scrounge up something other than the blurry fishing trip.
He sat on the ground, picking listlessly at the grass when footsteps approached. Jack looked up, the man blocking out the sun with his frame, a complete shadow. His voice was gentle despite the obvious gruff that he always had. “Hey, kid. You okay?”
“I’m okay, Uncle Arthur. I just miss home.”
“I know. It ain’t easy livin’ out here like this.” Arthur stepped out from in front and instead took a seat on the ground beside him, grunting a bit with the effort. “Where’s your Ma?”
“Sleeping. She ain’t feeling good.”
Arthur nodded, taking his hat off to spin between his fingers. “Y’know, Jack, you’re real tough. Tougher than any of us.”
Frowning, he looked up. “What? What do you mean?”
“We chose this life, but you, you didn’t get a choice. It ain’t easy, but you’re a real soldier, just like in one of them storybooks you like.” Arthur paused, then turned to place his hat on Jack’s head. It fell over his eyes, which made Jack giggle. “Ha! Look at that. A perfect fit.”
“Uncle Arthur!” he giggled, reaching up to pull it off his eyes so he could see him. “It’s too big!”
Arthur’s brows shot up, a grin pulling at his lips. “Too big? Where’d you get an idea like that?”
Quick footsteps approached. “Arthur Morgan, you get that hat off my son this instant!”
Arthur chuckled, taking the hat back. “Sorry, Abigail. Just havin’ a little fun with him, is all.” He turned to Jack, winking. “See ya later, kid.”
Jack opened his eyes slowly, reaching up to take off his hat. It was all scuffed, old - it belonged to John, but if his memory served correctly, it looked a lot like Arthur’s.
He turned his gaze toward the wood, watching the bluejay flit its wings for a moment before taking off, flying toward the setting sun. Not quite sure why, Jack smiled and stood up, walking back toward his horse. He looked over his shoulder one more time.
“Goodbye, Uncle Arthur.”
Jack mounted his horse, hoping that wherever they were, Arthur was taking care of his parents.
***
The horizon was bathed with pink by the time Jack’s horse trotted up the familiar path. The sunrise already felt warm on his skin as he glanced up at the hill by the barn. The three graves stood both proud and haphazard, because they were made with shaky, bloody hands. Jack exhaled slowly, closing his eyes.
He could feel Abigail’s hand on his shoulder, telling him he was growing into a fine boy. He could hear John proudly praising him for his first hunt. Both of their voices told him they loved him. As a tear slid down his cheek, Jack smiled and opened his eyes.
Carefully, he slid off of the saddle and hitched his horse, feeding her some oats from his palm. The ranch wasn’t much of a ranch anymore. He had no animals and no help, but maybe, someday, he could be like his parents. Maybe, someday, he could be like Charles, and have a family of his own here.
For now, he supposed, visiting every now and then wouldn’t be so bad.
Dragging his feet a bit, he tiredly ascended the steps, but before he could enter he found an envelope stuck on the bottom of the door. He bent down, curiously taking it into his hands. His brows furrowed as he shouldered the door open, sticking a finger beneath the seal of the envelope. Still looking down, he slowly moved to sit on the couch where he had once spent countless afternoons reading.
He pulled out a letter, and a small picture fell onto his lap as he did. Between two fingers, he picked up the photo, pleasantly surprised to find it was a picture of Charles, Alice, and Morgan, smiling brightly with a newborn in Alice’s arms. Jack smiled, too, and turned to read the letter.
Dear Jack,
I hope your return home was a safe one. I know it’s unlikely you’ll be back to Beecher’s Hope, but in case you do go back, I had this delivered there. I wanted to let you know that our son was born the day after you left. You are welcome to visit whenever you want. Morgan won’t stop asking about you. It seems you have quite the gift for talking to children.
Alice is well. She sends her regards and hopes that you will come and meet our little John soon. It’s a fine name. It’s a strong name. We both like it. We hope you do too.
Your friend,
Charles Smith
Jack’s hands shook a little as he lowered the letter, but for the first time in a while, he didn’t feel like crying. Instead, he picked up the photo, slowly getting up from the couch, and put it on top of the fireplace, proudly on display. He looked into the eyes of each happy family member, looked at baby John’s chubby fist reaching up toward his mother, and gave a watery smile.
He wasn’t sure how long he stood and stared, but eventually his feet moved him into his old bedroom, where it looked like nothing had changed at all. His bookshelf was intact, his bed was unmade. He lay down, watching the early morning sun pour in through the window. For some reason, now, the house didn’t seem so empty. He pulled his hat down over his face and closed his eyes.
For once, sleep came easy.
#red dead redemption#rdr1#rdr2#jack marston#bonnie macfarlane#simon pearson#tilly jackson#mary beth gaskill#arthur morgan#I had so much fun writing this im ngl#waiting for the day jack gets to be happy#hope you enjoy!#my writing#agoldengalaxy#my post
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im an incredibly serious artist
#drawing john is reallt hard..#john marston fanart#red dead redemption 2#rdr2#rdr2 fanart#western llemon#young john marston :3
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Bby John 🤠 (Click for higher quality)
#This took me 3 weeks I've been so burnt out 😭#but bby john makes me happy 🥰#rdr2#red dead redemption 2#digital art#saiyan druid art#fanart#rdr2 fanart#john marston#bby john marston#young john marston#rdr#red dead#rdr2 artwork#rdr2 art#rdr2 fandom#rdr2 community#rdr2 john#rdr john#red dead redemption#red dead 2#red dead redemption ii#red dead redemption community#red dead redemption two#rdr 2#rdr1#video game fanart#character illustration#character sheet#sketch dump
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taking a bath with jack marston.
౨ৎ SUMMARY... your favorite gunslinger seems to have trouble keeping himself together during the rough patch he is currently experiencing, so you decide to step in and tend to his needs.
౨ৎ RATING...fluff ! but, mentions of depression, implied grief, dirt, bacteria, nude body, alcoholism, scars, cuts, and bruises, implied financial situation, loneliness, implied to be shorter than him, GN READER. no 'y/n', just 'you.' Loosely proofread. established relationship.
౨ৎ CREDITS... thank you sooo much, @slversprngs for allowing me to use your jack drawings <3. you should definitely check them out because they make amazing art.
You were familiar with the young man and his family who lived couple blocks down from your ranch and your father would trade different products each month with the Marston's. This soon became a way to know the teenage boy as his mother, Abigail started to invite your family to dinner every other weekend, an attempt to make her loner son have some friends since all he did was read books and help out his father whenever they did ranch work.
Abigail thought you were a good influence, you liked reading books and engaged in conversations whenever her or her beloved husband would ask about your hobbies or they observed how you would treat their son. The Marston's loved having your family around and soon enough you became a family friend, and a best friend to Jack.
All those memories and dinners with the Marston family soon came an end three years ago, when Jack's father, John passed away and soon after that his mother passed as well.
It changed the young man - crushed him to pieces that it altered his personality. The old sarcastic boy you knew was far from that now, he was quiet and only kept to himself with that stoic mask he displays to everyone.
It seems you were an expectation because he wasn't entirely closed off, he still spoke to you occasionally about the things he's doing in his life - aiming to kill Edgar Ross, a man who murdered his father apparently.
You didn't know what to say to that, two wrongs don't make a right. But, you couldn't stop the young man as he let his anger out about the whole situation as he spoke about it whenever he would lean against the railings of his porch and you would quietly listen to his rambling.
...
Opening the crunched up newspaper that was left in your mailbox messily caught you off guard. The retired federal agent, Edgar Ross was reported as dead - something you didn't want to take literally due to how sweet the young man used to be in the past, nor wanted to believe his words of murder true. You felt terrible because you knew that the true fate of the man before it took place and deep down you knew you could've reported it to the law.
That's what you repeated to yourself numerous times - never to ever interact with an outlaw, a gunslinger, a murderer, someone like him, but you found yourself stripping naked to wash the young man as you slowly got into the bathtub.
"You don't have to do this," The gunslinger repeated as he took a heavy inhale, trying to respect you in the best way possible without making this awkward, "You know you can leave, right?" He continued but any conviction seemed to land on deaf ears.
"Mhm, I know." You muttered, reaching over to grab the shampoo and rubbing it on your hands before massage it into his scalp. The built up grease from days or even weeks was noticable but you decided not to speak about it.
Jack feels guilty - not for the killing a man but how he's making you, a childhood friend of his clean him up like he's a baby. The alcohol in his system doesn't make the anxiousness fade away as he is afraid you'll judge him - you'll will leave him.
He doesn't know how long it's been that he genuinely felt so clean but he won't ever even admit a side of vulnerability despite the fact he allowed you to take care of him.
After shampooing his hair, you gently wash off the shampoo and rubbed conditioner on your hand before going in and applying it to the outlaw's dark hair, causing him to hum. "What else are you goin' to do?" He questions as his gaze slowly meets yours, hoping you won't be grossed out.
"Do you want me to wash your shoulders? You...uh, can do the rest.." You mutter as your cheeks grew into a rosy red. Damn. He swears that look you give him anytime you get embarrassed will be the death of him.
Jack doesn't comment on it though, he silently reaches down and takes hold of your waist and pulls you closer. "Don't stress it," The gunslinger mutters, slowly dipping his face in the curve of your neck. "Darlin'..? Love you."
Jack Marston was not a vulnerable man, but in this moment, he felt safe and secure in your arms.
Thank you soo much for reading ! reblogs and likes are very much appreciated... please do not repost my work on any other platform. Masterlist
#john marston#rdr1#red dead fandom#red dead redemption community#adult jack marston#rdr2 john#rdr1 jack#jack marston x reader#jack marston nation#rai's rambles.#jack marston
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— ₩ⱧØ ł ₩Ɽł₮Ɇ ₣ØⱤ
Hello! Here’s the characters I will write for! I might add more characters later! :]
Baldur’s Gate 3
Astarion
Wyll
Gale
Shadowheart
Karlach
Halsin
Lae’zel
Dammon
Zevlor
Rolan
Haarlep
Obey Me
Lucifer
Mammon
Leviathan
Satan
Asmodeus
Beelzebub
Belphegor
Diavolo
Barabatos
Mephistopheles
Simeon
Raphael
Solomon
COD MW2
Ghost
Soap
Price
Gaz
König
Alejandro
Rodolfo
Spiderverse
Miguel O’Hara
Hobie Brown (Platonically)
Spider-Noir
Peter B Parker
Slashers
Jason Voorhees
Brahms Heelshire
Ghostface
Michael Myers
Amanda Young
RDR2
Arthur Morgan
John Marston
Javier Escuella
Charles Smith
Sadie Alder
Hoesa Matthews
Sean Macguire
Hannibal
Hannibal Lecter
Will Graham
Frederick Chilton
#obey me#hannibal#baldur's gate 3#bg3#red dead redemption 2#rdr2#cod mw2#spider man: across the spider verse#slashers#reader insert#obey me x reader#hannibal x reader#bg3 x reader#rdr2 x reader#cod mw2 x reader#miguel o’hara x reader#astarion x reader#ghost x reader#brahms heelsire x reader#arthur morgan x reader#mammon x reader#will graham x reader
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Childs Play - Modern AU
summary: honestly just a sh!tty little oneshot ab the gang watching a horror movie w reader lmao. couple hints to a relationship between Arthur & reader. could just be a friendship tho. I've never written an AU before so i really hope i keep everyone in character <3
(also ik the chucky movies arent scary like at all but the thought of john and sean arguing over who looks more like the scarred-faced ginger killer doll made me giggle)
"oi Marston, he's got a mug almost as ugly as yours!"
"me? im not the one with the unruly carrot top. thats the real horror here,"
Sean and John continue to joke and yell over the film, in a feeble attempt to act less scared, makes it hard to believe them when theyre both clutched to Lenny and Abigail like little kids on their first day of school. Sean had orignially been cowering behind Karen (though he swore he was protecting her from the totally fictional horror movie) until she had become fed up with his whining and slapped him upside the head. "ruining the goddamn movie with your muttering," she had mumbled, leaving poor young Lenny to comfort the redhead alone.
Her decision to seat herself on the (what she thought to be) more mature of the two couch groups, alongside yourself, Arthur, Molly, Dutch and Hosea, had proven to be the wrong choice - trading in dumb and dumbers crys and whines for Dutches painful, painful, old man movie talk
"So who sent the doll to the house then?"
"we dont know Dutch,"
"Now who's bowl has the poison in it?"
"we dont know Dutch, thats the point."
"Now that Husbands gonna get caught with the nanny, its obvious. such bad writing,"
"...oh...it was the wife,"
Molly has her head in her hand, finding herself envying the helpless dead victims from the movie, who dont have to listen to her partners consistent rambling. Hosea and Arthur have both grown accustomed to this by now, seemingly fully immersed in the film as if there were no distractions.
you feel an eager tap on your leg,
"hey y/n - is this the one with the crazy doll porn?"
you lean down from the couch to the floor where Javier is sat, with his body turned to you, but his eyes still fully focused on the film infront of him.
"no, no. thats 'seed of chucky' this is 'curse of chucky',"
a mix of both disappointed mutters a sighs of relief come from the floor group, comprising of Javier, Charles, Sean (who has now been quite literally kicked off the couch by Lenny), Trelawney, and Uncle.
There were a total of six 'groups' during VDL gang movie nights. the two couch groups - comprised of those who could, and those who couldn't behave. the floor group, the dining table group - which was mostly just Mary-Beth gushing over the romantic undertones of every film, Ms Grimshaw, Pearson and Strauss - drinking red wine in the kitchen and chatting shit, and finally Micah - who is usually kicked out of the living room, to make sure that he wasn't "getting any ideas", as Arthur would put it.
By this point, everyone who wasn't talking or scared shitless was slowly falling asleep, Abigail somehow snoozing through Johns constant complaints. Arthurs eyes were lidded shut, his head leaning back. you nudge him every few minutes,
"yknow you can go rest - dont have to sit through this shitshow with the rest of us,"
"no, no, I'm just restin' my eyes is all," he'd swear.
"can't quite leave you to watch this scary picture all by yourself now can i?"
You couldn't help but chuckle at his old-man excuse for having his eyes closed, rolling your eyes at him, you accept his answer. You both know you aren't the type to get scared by a cheap slasher flick, but you were endeared by his supposed reasoning.
The film was coming to an end now and even Dutch had quietened down now, an arm around molly and his face plastered with a triumphant grin - he had successfully guessed the ending to the film, like he so often did. There was popcorn scattered over the floor (and mostly in Charles' hair) from Seans failed attempt at starting a food fight.
John had gotten over his fears (lectured by Abigail during the snack break about how getting scared of a Doll would set a bad example for Jack) he was now totally hyping up the film, muttering Chuckys one-liners under his breath and laughing to himself over it.
Charles inched toward the DVD player, case in hand as he dejected the disc that was playing.
"Are we putting on the next one?"
no. you were absolutely not.
A/N: i didnt know how to end this. honestly this is mostly just self indulgence bc i desperately miss watching horror movies w big groups of people </3. might make a part 2?
#someone pls help me w grammar i mean it#high school drop-out cant spell at all#red dead redemption imagine#arthur morgan#dutch van der linde#john marston#rdr2#red dead redemption 2#red dead redemption x reader#sean macguire#arthur morgan x reader#javier escuella#charles smith#hosea matthews#rdr#rdr2 community#rdr2 fanfic#fanfic#oneshot#hashtags
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