I have a request
Okay Imagine Low honor Arthur morgan but he is married to the sweetest man ever That being Our Male reader
Also The Reader is also the member of the gang how would said Gang reacted when They found a ring on Arthur and ask who is the lucky Person is and find out it’s Male reader 🤤
You can make this a headcanon or anything Im not picky I have this idea for awhile now but I’m not good Enough at writing 😭😭
Arthur Morgan x m!Reader
A/N : thank you for your request! i've never done a low honor playthrough and i don't really consume low honor arthur content, so i kinda guessed at what he would be like, and it ended up being more of a redeemed low honor arthur, if that makes sense. sorry if that wasn't what you had in mind
WC : 1k
TAGS : m!reader, gang member!reader, low honor to mid honor arthur, arthur tries to be better for reader, established relationship
WARNINGS : possibly ooc low honor arthur
Arthur is not a good man.
He's too tired to be good. Seen too much of the bad in the world that his vision has tunneled on all the darkness, and he cannot be bothered to find an ounce of energy in himself to change that fact.
The world is rotten. And he is rotting with it.
But, in that dark tunnel, there is the smallest speck of light. Arthur is drawn to it like a moth to a flame- the tiniest sign of life in all the rot and decay.
A man like him did not deserve kindness. He was vile, that he knew, weighed down by the price on his head and the lives he took. In spite of all this, you found it in yourself to love him, something he did not understand and never would.
Anyone reading Arthur's journal would think he hated you. Every other passage read as such : "What a God damned fool". How he thought you were stupid, and helpless, an utter moron who saw the good in everything, who was naive and blinded by innocence that would only get you killed.
When you had joined the gang, Arthur had been fairly certain you'd get shot dead in a week. You were some numb-minded do-gooder, and he was not quite sure how you even got tangled up with a gang of rotten men like them.
You were a good man.
Over the months, he learned to find you were not blind to the world's evil, you were not afraid to kill and you were not as useless as he'd thought. Somehow, you were still kind in spite of that.
"It's the difference between you and I," You'd told him one day. "You'd shoot a feller for lookin' at ya funny. I only shoot 'em when they deserve a good shootin'."
He'd just huffed through his nose, not interested in the lecture about morals and values.
"Somethin' ain't quite right with you Arthur. I don't think you are who you want to be."
He wasn't too sure what it had been, but something about that had struck him. Still, he ignored the sentiment. For some odd reason, after that moment, you kept dropping small hints of wisdom to him like that. You were patient with him. You tried to make him understand his anger, his violence towards the world, tried to make him see that he was rotting himself from the inside out, not the other way around. He did not like it.
He did not want to think about these things. Arthur was tired enough as it was, without delving into the deeper implications of his mental state and whatever have you.
Somehow, you gentled his hands none the less.
He liked the attention you paid to him. He liked that you saw him as more, that you could see past his honorless reputation. That you could understand why he was like that.
Inexplicably, he tried to change for you.
Not drastically. He still was no good. However, he was more mindful before pulling the trigger- he caught himself thinking, what would you think of him if he did this?
You were softening him up. The more mercy he showed, the gentler with him you became, til he was spending nights in your arms getting his hair brushed back from his brow, soft kisses getting placed along his hairline.
He didn't parade it around for you, didn't search for praise, but you seemed to feel the change in him. Arthur hated the change. It meant his actions weighed heavier on his consciousness. He missed being unable to care. You were worth it, he told himself, and that was what kept him going.
A few weeks ago, Arthur had made the mental decision to commit to that change- commit to you. You represented all the good in his life, in his world.
It'd been a quiet affair.
Part of it had almost made that darkness return- the injustice that it had to be so quiet, that no priest would marry you and that no one could ever know about this. He forgot about it, temporarily, when he twisted the simple band on his ring finger.
It was all he did lately, really, stare at that damn ring. It made him happy. What a fool he was. Sitting at the empty dominoes table, spinning his ring...
"Arthur?"
"Huh?" He glanced up, finding Mary-Beth at his shoulder, looking wide eyed.
Oh no.
"Erh...nah, nah, don't..." He tried to tuck his hand away, but it was too late.
"You got a ring on, Arthur?"
"No, I-"
"Quit hasslin' mister Morgan, girl, get workin'!" Grimshaw rounded on Mary-Beth, but even that didn't scare her off.
"Miss Grimshaw- Arthur's got a weddin' band on."
Grimshaw scoffed, but upon glancing at Arthur's hand, she immediately got serious.
"Taken off a body, mister Morgan?"
"Uh..."
"It's clean...!" Mary-Beth whispered excitedly.
Immediately, Arthur's hand was snatched up by Grimshaw, and turned over to inspect the band.
Then came Karen. Then Tilly. And John, and Jack, and Abigail, and Lenny, Hosea- Soon, he was crowded by half the camp.
"Take the damn ring off me, if y' want to see it that bad!" Arthur grunted, ripping his hand from the newest grasp, unsure who was even grabbing at him, by that point.
"Well, son?"
Arthur looked up at Dutch. Dreading the question.
"Who's the unlucky fool of a woman?"
Damn whatever reflex gave him away. Arthur glanced, helplessly, at the one person who hadn't gotten up to see what the fuss was about. You, who was watching with a peaceful little amused smile, and a matching ring on your hand.
Arthur could've sworn everyone's heads turned at exactly the same moment, pivoting to look at you.
He knew in that moment, as the camp split in two to either go hound you with questions or thump him on the back for getting hitched- even if it was a little odd that he'd gotten himself tangled up with a man- that he would never know peace, and that his reputation as a heartless killer, even within the gang, now had a perfectly shiny, clean streak right down the middle, in the shape of you.
When the fuss finally died down, and Arthur thought he might have a moment to cross camp and go to you, he was stopped by Hosea, who came up to his side and cleared his throat quietly.
"So...when's the honeymoon, Arthur?"
He let out an embarassed huff, and glanced away. "Shut yer mouth, old man."
He just hoped Hosea hadn't seen the tiniest of smiles that he let slip.
thank you for reading, likes, comments and reblogs are appreciated. reqs still open
