damnclown
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Tuberculosis doesn't kill Arthur. Neither does Micah Bell. After the events of RDR2, a seriously injured and sick Arthur follows the advice of his physician to "get somewhere dry, and warm" and travels west to the state of Argent, where he finds work on a sheep farm and undergoes a risky operation to combat his illness. Meanwhile, Charles hears about what happened to the gang after his departure. Restless, unable to gain closure, and in desperate need of money, Charles begins taking local prizefighting matches, eventually moving west to the mining town of Comstock in northern Argent. Eventually, their paths will cross.
Tl;dr: Arthur's sick. Charles is sad. There's a lot of boxing, a lot of pining, a blowjob, fake history, and love.
Bookmarked by damnclown
19 Jul 2026
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"Arthur had learned this dance over the past decade. It was much more delicate than the ugly tumble it took to start a fight. Finding out if someone was itching for violence was simple, the signs often plain and in the open. It was expected of men to have the urge sometimes, as if they had a build-in affinity towards bloodied knuckles and bruised skin.
But the other dance was more complicated. It worked through small gestures, lingering gazes, fleeting touches. It had taken Arthur years to learn the intricacies of it.
He had also learned the prize for any misstep."
A look at Arthur's life, 1877-1898.
Bookmarked by damnclown
18 Jul 2026
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Pierre woke to a boy sitting next to his bed.
Amnesia!AU.
- Language:
- English
- Words:
- 49,871
- Chapters:
- 13/13
- Comments:
- 320
- Kudos:
- 1,855
- Bookmarks:
- 431
- Hits:
- 35,131
Bookmarked by damnclown
11 Jul 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.)
- Language:
- English
- Words:
- 161,497
- Chapters:
- 13/13
- Comments:
- 294
- Kudos:
- 1,129
- Bookmarks:
- 387
- Hits:
- 31,733
Bookmarked by damnclown
23 Jun 2026
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That beaming light at Hani's Bethel does more than simply shine down on Arthur, and he takes away more than just a few meaningless trinkets. Explanations don't come easy, certain events have left their mark, but the only direction a man can truly go is forward.
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A reimagining of that strange little UFO encounter in the game.My first fic, please be kind, and please mind the tags.
Series
- Part 1 of You Eff Oh
- Language:
- English
- Words:
- 456,488
- Chapters:
- 69/69
- Comments:
- 2,222
- Kudos:
- 1,846
- Bookmarks:
- 317
- Hits:
- 80,745
Bookmarked by damnclown
23 Jun 2026