GeorgianaZ
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His feelings however were mostly summed up in his head whenever he laid eyes on Charles as, big handsome strong kind caring, and then maybe a smattering of, dangerous killer ruthless criminal. But, none of those latter things were ever purported to be negative, just a simple fact of how they lived.
It wasn’t new at all to look at a man and feel like something was pulling him deep in the gut. Usually it was pretty, almost dainty men he’d catch out the corner of his eye while he was drinking in a saloon. Once or twice those looks had led into alleys and Arthur had, for the most part, never encountered any sort of violence in those encounters. Luckily. But they often felt...Off.
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Arthur, for once, would just like to be the one to be held.
Series
- Part 1 of Good News
Bookmarked by GeorgianaZ
19 Jun 2026
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This isn’t some sort of trial. Dutch has clearly made his mind up already regarding Charles joining the gang. Arthur’s opinion doesn’t matter. At least not yet.
Starts prior to Blackwater/start of game. Not strictly canon compliant.
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- English
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- 45,416
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- 15/15
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Bookmarked by GeorgianaZ
18 Jun 2026
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A big, broad-shouldered man came through the door, the look of a long-haul trucker hanging around him like a ratty coat. He was wearing old oil-stained jeans and a frayed flannel shirt thrown over a white t-shirt, his scuffed boots peeling up at the toes with age.
He had the air of a man who’d reached the end of his rope. He had a battered wide-brimmed hat pulled low to cover his long, frazzled hair, half of which was scraped back into a loose tail. He had dark hair and dark skin and dark eyes that were framed by the deep-set bruises Arthur only ever saw on long-haulers and cattlemen, the marks of too many nights at the wheel or in the saddle, the normal rhythms of life stretched out and pulling at the seams.
The feller was handsome. Arthur noticed that as an afterthought, his breath catching in his chest. Under the bruises and the loose strands of hair, the feller was handsome. His eyes were bright and keen.
“Uh,” said Arthur, caught flat-footed by the unanticipated surge of attraction tightening his belly. “Hi.”
The feller looked Arthur dead in the eye. “I need all of the caramel sauce that you have,” he said.
(or, a coffee shop au. yeah. i know.)
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- English
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- 13/13
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Bookmarked by GeorgianaZ
17 Jun 2026
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“Hello there! Ah, I see you’re new around these parts. I’m old around these parts. Blind Man Cassidy is my name. If you’d like your fortune told, I just ask for a bit of gold.” He holds out a tin coffee can smothered in rust, full of empty, whistling desert air. Heat broils up around them and makes the horizon waver.
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Arthur knows now, so many miles later, he never should have stopped. He never should have stopped along the trail, and he certainly never should have given that man any money. Damn this moment of charity, of weakness, and all the change it brought about.- Language:
- English
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- 414,458
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- 64/?
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Bookmarked by GeorgianaZ
15 Jun 2026
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Arthur knows he's dying, can feel the unstoppable pull of it, feels the spirit appear behind him to take him along. And yet, he finds he does not want to die. There is so much that went wrong, so much he regrets and he wishes, with all his being, he could change it. Could at least ensure those that managed to get away really make it out alive.
A second chance, he asks, begs, really. Just give me the chance to save them.
The being behind him pauses and Arthur can't look away from the moment he's frozen in, staring at the dark mountainside, aching to see the sun rise just one more time.
One chance, the spirit seems to whisper, voice satin soft. Make the most of it.
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- English
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- 12/12
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Bookmarked by GeorgianaZ
07 Jun 2026