unmaskthewriter
Dearest reader…
23.18+ MINORS DNIYou need not know who I am, only that I write. Requests: OFF (After all, patience is a virtue.)
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Dearest readers,
I apologize for the unforeseen hiatus. Packing your belongings and moving across the country is no simple task.
I promise new content in the coming days and weeks.
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Recently learned that the color of the vest and tie Arthur wears during the Saint Denis ferry gambling mission changes depending on if you have high or low honor (blue for high and red for low) so now i am obsessed with the idea that the prominence of the colors red and blue on certain gang member’s outfit also reflects their honor level.
Whittemore variants versus Arthur’s default outfit, which doesn’t have a scrap of red on it, however no matter what his blue shirt is always fucking dirty and stained. And remember the gang criticizes you if you have blood all over you.
Hosea wears the blue vest (sometimes brown) but he generally has his red neckerchief on, but he also owns a red and black scarf. Mostly good but a little bit of bad.
Red is prominently featured on Micah. His entire shirt is red and he’s usually wearing his jacket like he’s disguising his nature. Even the the grips on his guns have red. And when you rescue him from Strawberry he does not have his coat.
Dutch is the most interesting to me. He has the checkered red scarf which he rarely wears and the red pocket square over his heart. Only the back of his vest is red, like he’s in denial about it, or that it’s only possible to see who he is when he isn’t facing you and putting on a show. Meanwhile on guarma his vest is suddenly reversed!
EDIT: addition
When Hosea is killed he is wearing a completely different outfit with a blue vest and absolutely no red, and both Milton and Dutch are covered in red!
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reblog to bonk the person you reblogged it from with a hollow cardboard tube
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mutual 1: I want to turn that man's prostate into silly putty
mutual 2: here's smth i doodled during science class lol
mutual 3: pls remember that you personally can drink milk and still be a lactose intolerance ally!! anyone who tells you otherwise doesn't know their history :]
mutual 4: fucking a robot girl in the ass call that backend programming
mutual 5: holy shit I need him so fucking bad holy shit holyyy shit oh my god
mutual 6: anyone get kind of horny putting the ignition key in the car....it's so intimate....turning him on....
mutual 7: so lets talk about where scrimblo's arc is realistically going- I know a lot of people are trying to argue that he's being manipulated but this ignores the fact that there is clearly unresolved conflict between him and bleebus about their moralities
mutual 8: happy propeller penis thursday
mutual 9: "scrimblo and bleebus need to discuss their morality" god forbid a pathetic boywife does some torture 🙄🙄
mutual 10: WHO IS HYPED FOR THE NEW ALBUM LETS FUCKING GO
mutual 11: guys we're not getting a new album
mutual 12: please stop sending me death threats
mutual 13: why is my whole dash talking about this band I don't even listen to.....
mutual 14: hey boy nice knife wound can i put my tongue in it
mutual 15: i'm going to fall into lake michigan
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reblog to bonk the person you reblogged it from with a hollow cardboard tube
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posting my favorite giant just in time for the 3rd week of octobe.
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I’ll Be Home For Christmas
Summary: Its Christmas time and Arthur has been out in the cold, missing for several days
Warnings: A bit of swearing; but very tooth-decay sweet (sorry)
A/N: I was inspired by the other Christmas / seasonal stories and images that I’ve seen so I wanted to try it for myself. *I crunched this out pretty quick, compared to my usual schedule, to meet the “deadline” so this may not be my best work. (For those following my current storyline, this one is out-of-sequence due to it being Christmas time, but it does go with it)
*This AMAZING image is not mine. This comes from @randomscreenshotsworld
This image was a major influence on the storyline, so I thank you!!
Keep reading
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Can’t Take My Eyes Off Of You {Arthur Morgan x GN!Reader}
Summary: Arthur realizes he’s in love with you.
A/N: As suggested/requested by @photo1030 . I apologize for the delay as I’m packing for travel and also I just got into Read Dead online for the first time all while completing RDR1 (first time) and RDR2 (second time). I know you suggested a different song/title but I couldn’t stop thinking about Can’t Take My Eyes Off Of You by Frankie Valli. also did just watch Jersey Boys this weekend so that could be why. Anyways, despite it all, I hope you enjoy.
Warnings: none, just pure fluff as requested <3 except for Karen threatening to commit violence on Sean 👀
Word Count: 650+
It was nearly evening as Arthur returned from the bank robbery in Valentine. As the sun sank lower in the sky, it created a beautiful array of colors on the water. He approached the savings box behind Dutch’s tent, placing half his take into the box. Micah sat with Bill and Javier at a table, talking them into yet another round of Five Finger Fillet.
“You’ve taken nearly all my money!” Javier whined.
Mary Beth and Tilly were sitting in their tent, working on laundry and clothes that needed mending. Karen was sitting alongside Sean around the campfire, a bottle of whiskey in her hand.
“Ah, c’mon lass, just one kiss!” Sean leaned closer to Karen, pointing to his cheek as she looked on, disinterested.
“Only thing you’ll be getting is this bottle over your head if you don’t quit your beggin.” Karen warned, taking a swig of the whiskey. Sean only laughed.
“Where would I be without ya, Miss Karen?” Sean questioned, to which she rolled her eyes.
“Dead, hopefully.” She mumbled, looking away from the Irishman.
“Oh, don’t play at that, lass. Ya know ya love me.” Sean teases the young woman.
Arthur ventured throughout camp in search of you. On a typical day, you were often around the campfire either listening to Javier’s music, or talking with the girls at their tent. He wandered out to the lake, leaning against a tree at the edge of the wood line. He lights himself a cigarette, taking a long drag as he watches on.
You were standing in the water, barefoot, with your pants rolled up to your knees. Jack sat nearby, making a necklace with small, coral flowers. Too focused on the line in the water to realize Arthur’s presence, Jack giggled as he looked at Arthur. The gunslinger only held a finger to his lips, smiling softly as the cigarette dangled there.
“I know I’m not quite the fisherman as I talked myself up to be. It’s okay, you can laugh.” You tease unknowingly. Arthur’s heart skipped at the sight, something he didn’t think possible. Prior to this evening, Arthur always believed he’d belong to Mary, even if she had moved on and married someone else her father approved more of.
Though now, seeing you there in the water while the setting sun reflected off of you and gave you this wonderful glow… all thoughts and dreams of Mary vanished in that very moment. All he could feel in this moment was a strange swelling of his heart when he looked at you. Now, Arthur never considered himself romantic but in this moment, doing something as simple as fishing and barely doing that gave him this light, fluttery feeling in his heart, a feeling he hadn’t experienced in quite some time. As you stepped out from the water, you turned to see Arthur standing there.
“Oh!” You held a hand over your chest, startled. You relax as you put the fishing rod away, “Didn’t see you there. How’ve you been?” You ask as Jack stands and gathers the flower necklace he had made.
“Good… was wondering what you were up to. See you’re teaching him all you know about fishing.” Arthur teases as he steps forward, putting the cigarette out beneath his boot. A blush creeps across your face as you look away, trying desperately to avoid his gaze.
“Don’t think I know too much on the matter, Mr. Morgan.” You admit shyly. Arthur’s lips part to speak, only to be interrupted by the child.
“Let’s go, I’m hungry!” He insists, now standing between the two of you, “Can you swing me?” He questioned excitedly. You look to Arthur who nods to you in return.
“Anything for you.” You ruffle the boy’s hair. Each taking hold of the child’s small hands, you and Arthur swing Jack gently between the both of you as you return to camp, like one happy family.
#red dead redemption 2#arthur morgan#rdr2#red dead redemption#arthur morgan x reader#fluff#no angst#this time#rdr2 fanfic#jack marston#tilly jackson#micah bell#mary beth gaskill#javier escuella#bill williamson
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I saw your recent post about not having ideas for fluffy stuff right now. What about a quick one about the moment Arthur realizes he’s in love with the reader?
And staying with your song title theme, I was just listening to “I Will Possess Your Heart” by Death Cab for Cutie and thought of this idea for you.
Just a thought, but no pressure 😊
Thank you for the lovely idea! I’ll see what I can whip up for you in the next few days!
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Free Bird {Arthur Morgan x F!Reader}
Summary: Arthur accepts a future that he will not be a part of.
A/N: Another angsty one here. I just don’t have many ideas for fluff. Tried to improve my writing a little with this one. Hope you all enjoy it.
Warnings: canon character sickness, angst, suggestions/mentions of character death
Word Count: 925
Arthur sat on an old log, gazing deeply into the campfire — the flames licking desperately at the wood until there was nothing left. The glowing embers smoked lightly until Arthur fed the fire, admiring its warmth in such a cold, empty place such as Beaver Hollow. It felt as though a curse lay heavy over the camp. Before their arrival, a group of people known as the Murfree Brood inhabited the cave system behind camp. ‘Vicious people,’ Arthur thought to himself, shaking his head. His chapped lips pressed together. He wasn’t often scared of people or things, but that wild bunch had rattled him deeper than you had seen him before. Arthur managed to rescue a poor girl missing from Annesburg from their clutches. Unfortunately, the poor, young woman saw things Arthur was certain she wouldn’t forget in a lifetime. His mind drifted, wondering if that had been you in the girl’s place. He would tear himself apart if you had to ever witness such viciousness, such brutality. You had seen enough in your time with the Van Der Linde gang from Sean’s death in Rhodes, to the most recent death of Miss Molly O’Shea.
“Didn’t deserve it, Arthur… she just wanted Dutch to return her affections..” You told him on that fateful evening.
“I know, darlin’, I know.”
Javier was standing at the edge of camp, standing guard with a rifle in hand. Arthur was barely able to make out his figure in the dark wood line. The others had retreated to their tents long ago, refusing to lie awake for another moment in such a dreary place. Arthur was the exception, unfortunately. His mind drifts back to the escape from Blackwater, how the camp was so lively after leaving Colter.
You were seated with a few others around the fire upon the night of Sean’s rescue from Blackwater. Uncle raised his beer, beginning to sing.
“Come bustle, bustle, drink about,
And let us merry be,
our Can is full, we’ll pump it out,
And then all hands to sea!”
Sean stood, extending his hand to you. The two of you linked arms and danced while Uncle sang loudly for nearly the whole camp to hear. Arthur stood back, leaned against a tree with a beer in hand as he watched with a small grin.
“If something happens to either of them, at all, it’ll be the death of us all, Arthur,” Dutch mentioned to him, observing the festivities from his tent, “they’re the youth of this… all of this. Those two truly exhibit what we are about. Besides, who will carry on our legacy when us old men are gone?” He continued on proudly, mildly teasing toward the end.
He draws his journal from his satchel, carefully flipping through the worn pages, taking time to reread and then some of his artwork. Opening to a fresh page, he pulls out a pencil and begins putting it to paper.
I always thought I knew. Knew Dutch, but that didn’t turn out so well. Either he’s showing his true colors, or I was blind to the person he’s always been. And my poor girl is in the middle of it all. I’m dying and she don’t know. If there’s one thing left to do, it’s to get her to safety before I get much sicker.
He sighs softly, closing the journal and returning it to his satchel before standing. With heavy steps, he approaches the tent you both shared, peeking in through the tent flaps.
You lay asleep on the bed, the blankets pulled up to your waist and your hair splayed wildly over the small pillow. Only wearing a thin chemise, Arthur didn’t understand how you weren’t cold. If you were, you certainly didn’t show it. It was nearing fall, which meant more rain and colder weather. Arthur shivered at the thought of another winter spent North. Quietly, he enters the tent and kneels down beside the bed, clearing his throat to stifle a cough. Arthur’s large, calloused hand gently brushes your hair from your face. A sleepy smile appears on your face but you do not wake.
“I love you, darlin’. I always will, no matter what happens… I’ll always be yours… I don’t know much. They always said I wasn’t too smart, maybe I’m not… but.. I know I love you. I want you to live a long, happy life… away from all this… you deserve everything I can’t give you… but Lord, I tried. I tried…” Arthur spoke quietly, tears threatening to escape, but he quickly blinked them away. He wanted to enjoy quite possibly one of the last nights he would have with you, without sadness and tears. Carefully changing into his union suit in the dark confines of the tent, he clambers into bed with you and pulls the blanket to your chest, placing a gentle kiss to your chilled, bare shoulder. He already grieved so much for you, and the life you could never have with him. A small cabin in a serene meadow with the sounds of wildlife and the giggles of children filling a summer afternoon. The both of you would denounce the outlaw lifestyle, and live off the beautiful land. The home you two build would be filled with love and laughter.
Instead, he would succumb to his sickness on that cold, lonely mountain, watching the sunrise as his last thoughts of you having successfully escaped from the life you desperately wanted to leave for months eased his mind and pain until there was nothing.
#red dead redemption 2#arthur morgan#rdr2#rdr2 spoilers#rdr2 fanfic#arthur morgan x reader#angst#dutch van der linde#john marston#sean macguire
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sometimes i need to remind myself that i'm writing fanfiction for free and i'm allowed to have a shitty sentence or two
#me#im not sorry for writing low their fanfics bc it makes me happy#Have to keep reminding myself of that
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Tuesday’s Gone {Arthur Morgan x F!Reader}
Summary: Arthur comes to terms with the fact he was only ever meant to be an outlaw, and any other notions, or dreams would be forgotten.
A/N: Inspired by Tuesday’s Gone by Lynyrd Skynyrd in honor of the anniversary of their plane crash in 1977. Short and sad little blurb.
Word Count: 500+
Warnings: angst, no fluff or happy ending, character death, grieving, mourning
It was a beautiful summer afternoon when he left. A gentle breeze fluttered through the leaves on the trees. In the distance, birds called out to each other.
Your hair was messy and untamed, and the simple yellow dress you wore was covered with various dirt and liquid stains. In your arms, the precious son you and him had created all those months ago slept peacefully.
“Arthur, please don’t go… you don’t have to live that kind of life anymore… you could stay here, with us… if not for me, for your son.” You whisper, tears threatening to spill over. He sighed as he placed the saddle on his horse, adjusting the straps.
“I-… I’m not cut out for this kind of life… the way I live, it’s the only way I’ve known… they need me.” Arthur explained, refusing to meet your gaze.
“It’s not fair.. you’ll meet an early death, Arthur.” You cry, sniffling and rocking the babe in your arms. Arthur reaches into his saddle bag, pulling out a money clip.
“It’s not much but… it should be enough to keep you fed for now. I’ll be back… this isn’t goodbye.” He speaks softly, staring down at the ground as he places the clip in your hand.
“It feels like it,” You mumble, blinking away your tears, “You can’t even look at us.”
“I have to go.” Arthur responded, mounting his horse and kicking up dust and dirt in his stead as he rode off. You returned inside, sitting down on the old rocking chair in the corner of the bedroom.
“We’ll be okay…” You reassured the babe, your fingers running through his thin, sandy blonde hairs.
Months pass before Arthur is able to return. It was a dreary day, with dark clouds blocking out any source of light. Slowly, he approaches the cabin on the back of his horse. Outside the seemingly abandoned cabin, two crosses sit. His heart sinks into his stomach as he dismounts.
“No…” He spoke softly as he approached the graves. Engraved in the crosses were your name, as well as your son. There weren’t even flowers to adorn your grave. It was plain, and empty. You deserved so much more than a plain grave with no flowers or people to visit. Hell, did your family even know?
What happened? Who could have done this?
Arthur reaches for his satchel, pulling out a small doll that resembles a cowboy, carefully placing it near the cross engraved with his son’s name.
“I’m so sorry…” Arthur cried, wiping his tears as he knelt there in the cold, wet dirt. He was unsure of how long he was sitting there.
“It’s a shameful thing, son… did ya know ‘em?” A stranger asks as he passes by.
“Y-yeah… my… my wife and son.” Arthur explained to the man, sniffling. While you and Arthur weren’t even officially in a relationship, he figured it would be easier to explain this way. The stranger sighs, looking down for a moment.
“It was a robbery… a month or so back… all she had was $10 to her name.” The stranger explained to Arthur. His heart ached. He should have been there. Maybe, maybe then… they would still be here.
His lady and son are dead, all over ten lousy dollars.
Arthur vowed to himself that day, that he would never attempt a life of normalcy again if it meant risking the lives of those he cared for.
Never again.
#red dead redemption 2#rdr2#arthur morgan#angst#rdr2 spoilers#arthur morgan x reader#character death#no fluff#red dead redemption#john marston#dutch van der linde#hosea matthews
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thinking about writing hamilton inspired one shots for red dead but idk
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