Ginger_M
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Summary
Part of him knows Dutch and Hosea are getting frustrated about the lack of progress on finding the Braithwaite’s gold or the Gray’s treasure or whatever the hell it is. Part of him knows everyone is getting nervous about being in one place for so long. Part of him knows that Dutch is stressed and tired, that he’s probably just taking out his frustrations, that he probably doesn’t really mean what he’s saying…
But another, much bigger part of Arthur is stunned and indignant and hurt. And, like a wounded animal, the hurt quickly turns to rage.
“Well how ‘bout you go make us some money, Dutch?”
“…Excuse me?”
(Or: Arthur leaves.)
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Summary
Charles Smith considered himself many things. Quiet. Intelligent. Dependable to a fault. Occasionally, unintentionally rude. One thing he had never considered himself — physically or otherwise — was weak. Life had trained him too well for that. It had taught him the practiced motions of endurance, the reflexive bracing of the spine before impact, the careful distance one learned to keep from people, places, and hope itself. Complacency was a luxury. Attachment was a liability. When you lived a life as dangerous and unsettled as his, grief was not a question of if, but when — and it was easier not to invite it in at all.
All in all, Charles knew he was strong.
What he did not know — what sat heavy and unanswered in his chest — was whether that strength would be enough to carry the body of a man he cared for deeply down from a mountain.
(Post-Canon fix-it of what could have been if Arthur actually didn’t die on the mountain)
Series
- Part 1 of What We Carry
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- Words:
- 35,819
- Works:
- 6
- Bookmarks:
- 40
Bookmarked by Ginger_M
13 May 2026
Bookmarker's Notes
Pretty funny light-hearted series where nothing goes wrong and I love that
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Summary
I feel this is something that means more to me than you.
Maybe he was right. Maybe he was wrong. But the words couldn't come up- he couldn't get them out of his throat. Standing there in the evening sweat of the muggy swamps surrounding Shady Belle, Charles looked both too at-ease and too uncomfortable. There was something pressing in those dark eyes, sunlight a filter off the warmth of black honey. Soulful eyes, visage usually drawn a scowling furrow over them. But their entirety made Arthur's fingers itch at the tips, grasping and twitching at empty air in desire for a piece of paper and a pencil to sketch it. To capture the likeness of the huntsman before him, in all that he was.
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The Future in a Briefcase by I_Think_ThereFore_I_Ham
Fandoms: Red Dead Redemption (Video Games)
16 Jun 2025
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Summary
Arthur stumbles across the body of a strangely dressed man who seems to have fallen from the sky. There are no cliffs, no ledges, no trees tall enough to explain it. Just a dead man in bright white sneakers, tight blue jeans, and a t-shirt that reads Live, Laugh, Lift. Next to him lies a sleek, black briefcase that shimmers like a starfield. Naturally, Arthur does what any self-respecting outlaw would do-he loots the guy and hauls the briefcase back to camp. But once he opens it, instead of cash or documents, there’s… nothing. A void. A portal. Something.
And it brings gifts-items from the year 2025-straight into the year 1899.
Bookmarked by Ginger_M
27 Apr 2026
Bookmarker's Notes
I laughed so hard with this fic but it was also so heartwarming I just have to bookmark it