All Your Faves Are Trans

It’s pronounced “garbage” because I am trash

[jarbaje]

say goodbye to who I was

Rating: Explicit

Category: M/M

Relationship: Kieran Duffy/Arthur Morgan

Additional Tags: Smut; Trans Male Character; Tent Sex; Idiots in Love; Body Worship; Dysphoria; Multiple Orgasms

Word count: ~2,000

Summary: Smutty excerpt from chapter 7 of The Sin Draws the Flesh.

————————

“I got to thinking.”

“Well, there’s your problem.”

Kieran’s eyes narrowed. “I could just ride back right now and leave you to do your silly treasure hunt on your own, you know.”

Arthur stepped closer. “You don’t even know where we are.”

“I could figure it out!” Kieran moved forward, face petulant. “Just because I can hardly read don’t make me stupid.”

“Who said anything about any of that?” Arthur closed the distance between them, tentatively reached out to Kieran.

Kieran leaned forward, dropped his head onto Arthur’s chest. “Been a rough few days,” he repeated, arms winding around Arthur’s waist. “I’m dirty and tired and I can’t stop thinking of these.”

Arthur placed a kiss on the crown of Kieran’s head. “You know that don’t make no difference to me.”

“I—it—always feels wrong is all. Hate how it feels in the heat.”

“What was it you said? They’re just tits.”

Kieran gaped at him. Arthur’s face was blank, unreadable—for all of five seconds before he burst out laughing and pulled Kieran tigther against him.

“You’re awful.”

“Aw, you love me anyways.”

Kieran pulled back, stared up at Arthur’s wide eyes, mouth open.

“Kieran, I—”

Kieran cut him off, sealed his lips against Arthur’s and breathed deep of him. Arthur leaned into it, hands on Kieran’s hips. Kieran fisted the back of Arthur’s shirt and pulled him in even tighter.

Arthur hated to do it, but he needed air. Just enough space between them to breathe, noses touching. Kieran’s eyes fluttered open and Arthur found himself surprised at how short the lashes were, how had he not noticed that before?

“I do.”

“Do what?”

“L—” Kieran swallowed, licked his lips. ”Love you.”

Arthur could only stare back. Chest heaving, mind racing and he couldn’t catch a thought. His heart swelled and ached and he wanted to live in this moment until the day he died, and for once he hoped that weren’t for a long, long while.

“Even if you did drag me up here without a coat.”

Arthur kept on staring, mind gone blank. Kieran’s smile faltered, and Arthur didn’t like that at all, so he swooped in to capture his lips.

He pulled back, hands framing Kieran’s face, thumbs brushing over his cheeks. Spoke barely above a whisper.

“I love you. I have, for a while, and I’m sorry I was too much a coward to say so.”

Kieran’s lip trembled in a wobbly smile. Arthur ducked back in, laid a soft, lingering kiss, tender and warm and with so much love Kieran was sure he could die right then and there and not have a single regret. He melted into Arthur, hands splayed over his back, fronts pressed together. Hearts pounding through their shirts, out of sync but so, so warm. Kieran never wanted to let go. Arthur pulled them towards the tent, his half-eaten dinner forgotten by the fire.

All they had were their bedrolls, but the tent warmed quickly and Kieran forgot he’d even been cold. Arthur laid him down, hovered over him, inches from his face, brushed his hair back. Kieran framed Arthur’s face in his own hands and drank him in. He was throbbing already, but something hung between them, hesitation like they neither had done anything like this before.

Kieran brushed his thumbs over Arthur’s cheeks. Arthur sighed, eyes closed. So hard in his pants it was painful, but he didn’t want to rush, not right now. Kieran’s hands left his face, and Arthur’s eyes shot open when he shoved them beneath his shirt, attempting to yank the thing off whole. Arthur grasped him, loose around the wrists.

Night had fallen outside, and what firelight came through the gaps in the tent was barely enough to see, but Arthur could still make out Kieran’s face. Soft and open and wanting, so similar to how he looked when they first laid together, and yet entirely different. Kieran tried to free his hands, but Arthur guided them to rest above his head.

“Wait.”

Arthur wanted to give Kieran the world, so he gave him everything he had.

Slowly, like the space around them was made of glass, Arthur undid Kieran’s shirt, starting at the bottom, each open button followed by a featherlight kiss to the skin revealed beneath. Once he reached the top, he slid his hands under the shirt, along Kieran’s ribs. Could still feel each and every one, but they weren’t so prominent anymore. Arthur paused just below Kieran’s chest, glanced up to check on him. Kieran nodded, breathy, eyes half-lidded, and Arthur continued.

He pulled back one side of Kieran’s shirt, nosed and kissed along his collarbone until he got to his shoulder where he sucked a bruise into the skin. Kieran shuddered, and Arthur eased his arm out of the shirt, kissing down the length of it. Once he reached Kieran’s hand, he took it in both of his own and massaged the meat of Kieran’s palm, kissed every callus, each knuckle, before rubbing back up the rest of the arm. Kieran sighed and it turned into a whine when Arthur repeated the same process on the other side.

Freed of his shirt, loose and boneless and pliant, Arthur moved Kieran’s arms over his head. Arthur kissed him, deep, and then trailed down his neck. First one side, then the next; a kiss beneath each ear; a kiss where neck met shoulder; a deep kiss that turned into a bruise at the base of Kieran’s throat where it would be hard to hide. Kieran keened, legs shifting to try and encourage Arthur lower, faster.

Arthur hovered between Kieran’s breasts, moved up to give him a brief kiss to the lips. “Not yet, handsome.”

Interrupted, Arthur started all over again on Kieran’s neck. Kieran’s eyes fluttered shut, and he had a moment to worry he might ruin his pants because he had never been so wet in his life. His mind went fuzzy as Arthur started in on his chest.

Arthur took a breast in each hand and treated them gently as he had every other inch of him, rubbing in slow circles. Thumbs ghosted over nipples and Arthur couldn’t help but stare as they sprung up. The fire had started to die, and it was difficult to see, but not impossible. He looked  up at Kieran. Kieran stared back through hooded eyes, breath stuttering through his nose. Their eyes locked as Arthur pulled one nipple into his mouth, free hand gently caressing the other. Kieran made a noise high in his throat and closed his eyes.

Something felt different from the last time they had done this—maybe because Arthur had spent all that time being so goddamn gentle and soft and maybe it was because Kieran knew, unequivocally, that Arthur loved him. If Kieran thought last time was good, now was indescribable. Fit to catch fire any second, Kieran’s arousal shot into something he had never experienced before and he rubbed his thighs together, desperate for friction.

Arthur switched sides, and Kieran whined in the second his mouth was gone, so loud he would have been embarrassed to hear it from someone else. Arthur sucked harder, encouraged by the noises. Kieran burned , writhed beneath Arthur. Without missing a beat, pulling Kieran deeper into his mouth, he moved one hand to Kieran’s hip to keep him still, and that was what did him in.

Kieran arched up with a cry and Arthur had to lean back to keep from getting his teeth knocked out. He hovered, one hand just above Kieran’s heart.

“Did you just—”

Kieran was still squirming, head thrown back, eyes shut.

“Yes, don’t stop,” he panted, breathless, frantic. Don’t stop, I might just die if you do.

And who was Arthur to deny him?

Arthur did the same twice more, and Kieran came both times, each almost as intense as the first. His pants had to be ruined by now, he had a second to think before Arthur worked on removing those too. Kieran tried to press into him, tried to grab Arthur’s hands and force them on him, in him, desperate to be filled. Like he hadn’t just come three times already. He ached, clenched around nothing, whined as Arthur pulled his pants down, torturously slow.

“Arthur, please.”

Arthur kissed behind one knee, then the other. “Not yet.”

Kieran whined. Went to wrap his legs around Arthur, trying to pull him in, but Arthur was still the stronger of the two, and he easily held Kieran’s legs down. Kieran growled, moved to sit but Arthur covered his body with his own, and Kieran’s mind tried to betray him, make him think of all the other times someone else had held him down like this. But the panic didn’t come, and he was able to keep the memories at bay. Arthur’s eyes roved his face, searching for something.

“At least take your clothes off. Your shirt. Something. Anything. Please,” Kieran begged.

Arthur hadn’t wanted to rush this, and it took every remaining ounce of self-control not to rip his clothes off and take Kieran right then.

Instead, he leaned back, knees on either side of Kieran’s hips, and took his sweet time removing his clothes while Kieran watched. Kieran propped himself up on his elbows, eyes following Arthur’s fingers as they undid his vest, his shirt. Arthur let the shirt hang open but left it on.

Kieran flopped back, defeated. Arthur slid down his legs and went back to kissing the inside of his thighs. He left more hickies, deeper now where no one would see but them. Kieran shuddered, breathless. Arthur held his legs open, kissing up and down the length of them until Kieran tried to redirect him where he wanted.

Arthur looked at Kieran from between his legs, and Kieran couldn’t fight the snarl that rose to his throat. Arthur chuckled, the breath ghosting over Kieran, and he nearly sobbed when Arthur finally laved over him.

In all his years, Arthur had never gotten his face so wet before he’d even gotten truly started, but he was practically soaked after the first touch. “Jesus, Kieran.” He tasted different, sweeter, and Arthur greedily dove back in for more.

Kieran didn’t have a single thought left in him. He weaved his fingers through Arthur’s hair, the longest it had been since he’d known him, and came within seconds. Arthur sucked him through it, and just when Kieran thought he was so sensitive as to be painful, he came again and thought maybe he would black out this time. His hips bucked wildly and Arthur leaned back, watching him squirm, hands flying around for something to grab onto. Arthur grasped them, fingers twined, and held him as he worked through it.

After what had to have been a decade, Kieran loosed his hands from Arthur’s and yanked him down into a bruising kiss.

“That good, huh?”

Kieran didn’t respond, eyes darting between Arthur’s face and the lump in his jeans. His hands flew down, but Arthur stopped him, stood to take off his pants as fast as he could, all patience abandoned. Kieran’s gaze went straight down, looked like he was fixing to grab Arthur and drag him down himself, and Arthur could deny him no longer.

He slid in with an ease he didn’t think possible. Kieran clenched around him and Arthur nearly came just from that. Kieran’s hands fluttered around him for some kind of purchase, settling on Arthur’s shoulders as he began to thrust. Kieran squeezed around him as they settled into a rhythm, the air hot and close. All manner of new, delicious noises spilled from Kieran, and Arthur let himself go along with him.

He might’ve been ashamed by how quick he came, if Kieran hadn’t keened along with him. Arthur winced as he pulled out, blindly grabbing something to wipe them down with. He stretched out on his back, naked, and Kieran hooked one leg over Arthur’s, breath coming loud and fast, eyes screwed shut, one hand in the middle of his chest. Arthur had never seen anyone come so hard, or so many times, and he was a little in awe of it. Had never considered himself a particularly gifted lover, not if his track record with relationships was any indication, but maybe that could be owed to the fact he had never truly been in love.

[whatkristalikes]

Here I am again offering a smidgen of something to the rdr fandom

Original under the cut

[foundynnel-deactivated20231030]

[river-of-wine]

OOH YOU KNOW WHAT I’VE NEVER TALKED ABOUT ON HERE. MY MOLLY COSTUME ANALYSIS

[river-of-wine]

Clothing in RDR2 is very intentional, at least when it’s relevant to the story. Arthur and Micah are good examples, having inverted colour palettes on their default outfits. Dutch’s clothes tell you a lot about him from a first glance, with the deep shades of red and ornate patterns on his waistcoat. Attention to detail is present in the clothes characters wear just like it is in every other aspect of the game, as we can see with John’s torn sleeve being repaired.

That being said, let’s take a look at Molly’s outfits!

Chapter 1 isn’t hugely important to this as Molly is dressed for survival rather than style, but it is worth taking into account! Firstly, Molly likes blue. Almost the entire outfit is a dark shade of blue with the exceptions being her scarves. Additionally, she’s wearing the same skirt she wears in chapter 2 and a very worn looking belt.

Chapter 2 is where Molly is mentally at her best, though Arthur can mention she “hasn’t been herself for a while” and the poem can still be written, showcasing the early signs of her realising who Dutch truly is. Her outfits are very similar with the exception of the top.

In the mornings, Molly will wear a quite loose fitting white shirt, her floral shawl and her straight blue skirt, which has dull gold ribbon along the bottom of it. The skirt looks quite worn, similar to her belt, as does the shawl. She wears her usual white boots, which are button up with a small heel, no jewellery and has her hair in a braid. The whole outfit is very shapeless, covering her up to the wrists and with her belt being the only thing that gives any impression of Molly’s body type. Since we know Molly comes from a somewhat wealthier background (not aristocratic as I’ve seen people say, but from money nonetheless) this is a choice Molly is making in terms of how she wants to dress rather than her making do with what she has. I have separate thoughts about exactly what kind of background Molly is from, but that’s not relevant here.

In the afternoons, Molly changes her hair and top. Her hair is loose and curled in a half up half down style, and her top, while visually very different, still covers her fully. It is black with blue and yellow stripes, along with some blue lace. There are gold buttons on the shirt, but the gold is very muted similar to the ribbon on her skirt. We can see her neck and some of her chest (though it stops before any cleavage is visible), making room for her necklace which is very simple, with the red gemstone being the main focus. This is the only instance, aside from her lipstick, in which Molly wears red during this chapter. She’s also wearing earrings, but her shawl and skirt stay the same. The waist of her top is low, again disguising her body type, and covers her arms fully. Again with Molly’s background, she is an Irish woman and is definitely religious. Covering up and concealing her body shape is definitely intentional.

Molly does not wear very eye catching clothes despite having probably been able to afford them before she joined the gang. Everything is very desaturated and muted, even the yellow and blue of her top during the afternoons is faded and put against black. She is not trying to draw anyone’s attention to her. Why would she want to? She is secure in her relationship with Dutch for the most part and doesn’t have much opinion on the men, aside from Arthur who we know she eventually feels some trust around. We are shown Molly is dressing how she likes.

Chapter 3 is where Molly and Dutch’s relationship starts to get really bad for her and her mental well-being takes a sharp decline, with the two fighting, Dutch constantly berating her for being upset and calling her delusional or crazy if she correctly points out how he is treating her, and when she sees him looking at Mary-Beth in camp. It is also where we really start to see the differences in her outfits. The heat means that Molly cannot cover up as much, but in the mornings she is dressing very similarly in terms of style. The dark blue she seems to like is still present in her shawl, belt and skirt. The lace of her shawl and buckle of her belt are gold, but again they are muted. It isn’t eye catching at all, aside from the actual colour of the lace against the dark fabric of her shawl. The skirt is has some pleats, but it is mostly straight and covers her down to the ankle. Her shirt is still white aside from the light pink dots, and it is even looser than before. Her sleeves are rolled up (the first time she has ever shown her arms) and her collar is unbuttoned, but it’s safe to assume this is just to deal with the heat. She is wearing her necklace and earrings, and her hair is braided.

This is very in line with what we know Molly likes to wear. Dark blue, loose fit, covered as much as is practical. She isn’t dressing to draw anyone’s attention or to show off, at least until the afternoons.

The difference is immediate, and almost so obvious I feel like I don’t have to say anything. Everything about her clothing has changed, from the style to the colours. Her top is a deep green and is decorated with shining gold patterns, with gold lace around the neckline to match. The top is much higher on her waist than what she wore in chapter 2, and it is fancy, very tight and low cut, showing off her neck, collarbones and most of her cleavage. This is the same woman who was covered up to her wrists in chapter 2. She is still wearing her necklace and earrings, and her hair is in its curled style again. Her skirt is a very saturated shade of red, and it is tiered with shining gold ribbon around each layer. We have never seen Molly wear anything like either of these before. These clothes also look a lot newer, especially compared to her morning outfit in chapter 2. The fabric is visibly different, the style does not feel like her own choosing, and she is suddenly standing out more in camp than she ever did and drawing attention to herself.

These clothes look newer than the rest of what she wears, and they do not look like something Molly would choose for herself. Her usual dark blue is missing, as is the presence of a shawl. Additionally, this is the first time we see Molly in such heavily patterned clothing or wearing red as a large component of her outfit.

What am I getting at here? Well, first and foremost, I do not think Molly bought these clothes for herself. It is out of her style entirely. You know who these do match though?

Dutch.

It’s been said before but Dutch’s clothes are ridiculously ornate for the life he lives. He only wears black and red as dominant colours (the back of the waistcoat he is wearing here is red in addition to multiple others he wears) and his waistcoat is patterned, accented by gold buttons, chains and a similar looking red gemstone. His holsters have a similar pattern, bringing his apparent like for fancy clothes even onto his gun belt, and his guns themselves are their own story. Also, can’t forget those gold rings of his.

Dutch wears red, Molly wears dark blue. Until chapter 3. Dutch wears patterned clothes, Molly doesn’t. Until chapter 3. Dutch wears shiny gold things, Molly doesn’t. Until chapter 3.

I’m sure you can see what I’m getting at, but I’ll say it outright. Molly’s clothes in the afternoons of chapter 3 look newer and less weathered than everything else she wears, and everything about them goes against what she previously wore. I think Dutch got them for her.

They are so much more his style than they are Molly’s, and the newer look of them as well as the differing fabric adds to this. We know that Dutch is using her, and Abigail implies the use is for sex (now is a good time to remind you that Molly says Dutch hasn’t touched her in weeks during chapter 3), so it would make sense for Dutch to choose such a low cut and tight top for Molly. Not only is the skirt reflective of his colours rather than hers, the tiered skirt is also a style other girls in camp will wear.

Looking at Molly’s unused ballgown from what was likely The Gilded Cage, a dress that (given the mission) we know Dutch would have bought for her, the similarities are immediate. The revealing cut, exposing more of her chest than she ever does herself, the red and gold jewellery, the expensive fabric, the deep green and shining gold, even the red at her waist. If Dutch could choose how to dress Molly, which he would have upon buying her this dress (it’s chapter 4 and he is at this point refusing to speak to her, I highly doubt she would have a say) it would be in these colours, these cuts, these styles. Revealing, rich and showy.

But why is Molly wearing them now?

Let’s remember the state of their relationship in chapter 3. Dutch is treating her horribly, sidelining her for everything and minimising her emotions, insulting her for being upset before she has even said anything to him (an example being “this sulking, it’s becoming very tiresome” before Molly has said a word to him), and she knows his eye is wandering. Maybe this is Molly’s last attempt to bring him back to her. To be appealing to him, to make him want her and love her again so he will talk to her, pay attention to her, look her in the eye when they speak to each other. Maybe dressing the way he likes, showing off what she is usually uncomfortable with, will fix things with them. The toll this must have taken on her confidence is immense and further impacts her mental state, which only gets worse after they move.

It doesn’t, though. During chapter 4, Molly becomes incredibly depressed, sleeping on the floor while Dutch gets a bedroom and rarely moving, only leaving the house to smoke and talk to herself, occasionally sitting in a different area of the room where she cries, or splashing her face with water from one of the buckets indoors, perhaps to make it look less like she has been crying for fear of being laughed at or to calm herself down.

Chapter 5, we only see her in her outfit from the mornings of chapter 3, but that is more important than it seems. Why? Those are the clothes Molly left camp wearing.

She chooses those over the expensive and revealing outfit, chooses comfort, her own style, her own colours, her own clothes, over the clothes that so closely reflect Dutch in all but the gender they were intended to be worn by. To me, that is what confirms this. The choice Molly makes when Dutch is in an entirely different country, far away from her and giving her the opportunity to leave. She chooses to dress like herself again, without worrying what he is going to think about it.

[arthurmorgan-vp]

Love these types of shots 💜🏹💙

Twitter: ArthurMorganVP Instagram: ArthurMorganVP_ Picashot: ArthurMorganVP

[nokayeah]

John Marston is my fave cowboy.

[heywriters]

If you want to write a dumb little story with a dumb little plot and ridiculously silly characters. No one's stopping you. Genuinely, no one should be allowed to stop you. Write that dumb story with your whole heart and don't hold back.

[heywriters]

ok the dumb little story turned into a lot of work why does this always happen

[jarbaje]

I really love The Sin Draws From The Flesh. Your style, the headcanon, heavy themes… my trans heart swells. Thank you!

Hello anon from 2021,

Thank you ❤️ if you’re still out there, I appreciate you and hope you’re doing well

[jarbaje]

Hey I’m alive and I’ve added new chapters and will actually be finishing The Sin Draws the Flesh.

Made some major changes too so I’d recommend starting over from the beginning.

I’ve locked my fics to registered users only due to concerns over AI. If you need an invite let me know, I think I’ve got a few.

An Archive of Our Own, a project of the Organization for Transformative Works

Rating: Explicit

Archive Warning: Graphic Depictions Of Violence

Category: M/M

Fandom: Red Dead Redemption (Video Games)

Relationship: Kieran Duffy/Arthur Morgan

Characters: Kieran Duffy, Arthur Morgan, John Marston, Abigail Roberts Marston, Dutch van der Linde, Hosea Matthews, Charles Smith (Red Dead Redemption), Albert Mason (Red Dead Redemption), the whole gang y'all get it

Additional Tags:

Fluff and Angst; Trans Male Character; Hurt/Comfort; Emotional Hurt/Comfort; Bisexual Arthur Morgan; Angst and Hurt/Comfort; Angst; Fluff and Smut; no TB; Soft cowboys; Canon Divergence; Mentions of past abuse; Fix-It of Sorts; yes I'm projecting this is cheaper than therapy; Period Typical Bigotry; specific warnings before each chapter; Everyone lives; Medium Burn; Mpreg; Trans Joy; Body Worship; Idiots in Love; Kieran Duffy Deserves Happiness; Smut

Language:

English

[jarbaje]

Hi I’m alive and I’ll be reposting “the sin draws the flesh” since I made a lot of changes. And added two more chapters. And intend to finish it.

[em-103-blog]

-hosea matthews❄️

————

he’s the best cowboy dad and no one can tell me otherwise

[foundynnel-deactivated20231030]

His face when he is in water makes me laugh

[barbarosabee]

No wonder Grimshaw yells at him about bathing.

[asgardianstranger]

[vanderlindeee]

she’s called lady :)

[chloecarver-art-deactivated2026]

van der linde gang horses! 🐴🥰

now available on my redbubble!! take a peek at some of the products you can get this on! shop link is below the video! 🥰

(I ordered myself a duffle bag 😭)

https://www.redbubble.com/people/chloecarver/shop?asc=u

link specifically to this design! ⬇️

https://www.redbubble.com/i/t-shirt/All-The-Pretty-Horses-by-chloecarver/51031063.7KE4Y.XYZ

[ugh-my-back]

Bill makes John disassociate with his thought provoking question

[jarbaje]

Arthur over there just like “....you good bro”

[jarbaje]

Wish I could be an alpaca, bitches don’t have nerves in their teeth