Omg is it okay if you write headcanons on what Arthur Morgan from rdr2 would be like as your father with the reader as his teen daughter who's kinda like Ellie from the first tlou game
Arthur Morgan & daughter!Reader - headcanons
A/N: dear Nonnie, my requests are permanently closed unless it’s for a commission but this time, I decided to let yours slip through. It just sounded so sweet, and since writing for RDR2 is still something new for me, I couldn’t resist giving it a try. Hope you enjoy these little headcanons ♡
RED DEAD REDEMPTION M.LIST
1. You were raised on the move
You don’t remember staying anywhere long enough for the dirt to settle on your boots. Your childhood was a blur of campfires, cold creek water, and the smell of leather tack drying in the sun. Arthur and the rest of the gang raised you under open skies - taught you to keep your bedroll dry, your revolver clean, and your mouth shut when Pinkertons or O'Driscolls were near. He never promised you a permanent house, but he gave you the freedom instead. “Ain’t ‘bout where we stay, kid. It’s about who’s ridin’ beside ya.”
2. You and Arthur argue like thunder
Arthur’s patience could stretch a mile, but you somehow always found the end of it. You got his fire - his sarcasm, that stubborn streak that could kick down a barn door. One minute you’re riding quiet, the next you’re yelling about whether you’re old enough to ride into town armed. He never stays mad for long. Just sighs, rubbing the back of his neck. “You’re just like me, goddamn it,” he mutters, and you can’t tell if it’s a curse or a confession.
3. He calls you everything but your name
Your full name only comes out when you’re in serious trouble, and when it does, you freeze mid-step, ‘cause that means you’re gettin’ the talk. But most of the time, your father's voice call you all cute names.
“C’mon, troublemaker.”
“Watch that mouth, girl.”
“You eat anythin’ today or just attitude again, pookie?”
4. He doesn’t say I love you
Arthur ain’t much for words like that. He never learned how. But you see it: in how he fixes your stirrup before a ride, or how he keeps you on the safe side of the road when strangers pass. He saves the last biscuit for you, even when he’s hungry. Sometimes, when you’re half asleep, you feel him tuck the blanket up under your chin. He never says it but it’s there, solid as the ground beneath your feet.
5. You’re one hell of a shot - and he’s damn proud
Arthur taught you how to breathe properly before pulling the trigger, and how to listen to the quiet between heartbeats. The first time you hit a rabbit clean, he tried to play it cool, but his grin gave him away. “Guess I ain’t wastin’ my time after all, little one. That was a great shot,” he’d said, shaking his head. But at the same time, Arthur’s also the one who reminds you, softly, that killing - no matter how small the target - always leaves a shadow he’s seen far too many times himself.
6. You make fun of him for bein’ old
You tease him for groanin’ every time he sits down or for squintin’ at letters like they insulted him. He grumbles, but there’s always that twitch of a smile forming on his lip. “Keep talkin’ like that, missy, and I’ll have you muckin’ every damn stall in camp.”
7. He worries about you constantly
If you’re gone too long, he paces holes in the dirt. When you come back scratched up from a brawl, he looks ready to burn the world down. He’s seen too much loss to ever rest easy, and on some nights, when he reckons you’re asleep, you can still hear him by the fire, voice low and rough, whispering quiet prayers to Heaven itself, asking it to keep you safe.
8. You remind him of what he’s lost
Sometimes, when you’re laughing too loud or talking too bold, something shifts behind his eyes - that mix of pride and grief only a man like Arthur carries. You’re proof the world ain’t all bad yet, but also proof he’s got something to lose again. You, of course, remind him of your mother too - the woman he loved and lost the day you came into this world. Though the grief of her passing never truly left him, somewhere along the way, he learned to smile again - for you, his little babygirl.
9. The two of you share a song
He hums it sometimes when the camp’s gone quiet - that low, gravelly tune rolling from his chest like the wind through pines. You’ve known it all your life, that melody. You’re certain it’s the same lullaby he used to hum when you were just a baby, cradled in the crook of his arm while the firelight flickered against his tired face.
10. You’re the only one keeping him human
When the gang starts splintering, and when the world turns mean, it’s your voice that drags him back from the edge. Your stubbornness, your jokes, the way you refuse to see him as anything but your old man. And one night, when you sit beside him by the fireplace in the middle of the camp, the sky darkening slowly, he finally whispers, “You saved me, kid. More’n you’ll ever know.”
11. Your arguments could entertain the whole damn camp
Arthur will grumble about you wasting bullets; you’ll sass him about getting old. Half the camp listens in because it’s pure entertainment - a back-and-forth of Morgan growls and your smart-mouthed comebacks that sound just a bit too much like his own.
“You ever stop talkin’ long enough to listen, lil' one?”
“Do you, Pa?”
Uncle swears it’s better entertainment than any saloon fight he’s seen. He’ll lean back in his chair, hat tipped over his eyes, muttering, “Ain’t nothin’ like a Morgan family dispute to spice up the mornin’.”
Javier laughs every time and sometimes starts strumming his guitar just to give your arguments a “soundtrack.” He says it’s like watchin’ thunder and lightning bicker over who makes the louder noise.
Sadie, on the other hand, grins wide and eggs you on. “Don’t let him win, kid. Man needs someone to keep him humble.” Arthur always shoots her a look that says she’s not helping but she just winks at him.
Dutch pretends to scold you. “We’re supposed to be a family, not a war camp!” But you catch him smirking behind his cigar, proud that Arthur raised someone who can sass him right back.
12. Everyone loves you
Uncle calls you Morgan Jr caressingly.
Jack idolizes you, calling you his best best friend.
All the girls in camp love to spend time with you, even if most of them think you’re a bit too rough-and-tumble, too much boyish-like for a teenage girl.
Even John Marston likes you a lot, despite all the teasing you throw his way, just like your father does.
13. You’re why Arthur fights to live right
When the sickness comes, he hides it from you at first: coughin’ into his sleeve, claimin’ it’s just the dust from the air. But you notice. You always do. When you confront him, eyes blazing and voice cracking, he just cups your face with those rough, trembling hands. “Guess I raised you to be too damn sharp,” he says softly.
You try to shove him off, angry and terrified, tears rolling down your flushed cheeks but he only pulls you into a tighter hug, comforting you, “It’s alright, kid. You’ll be alright, I promise."
14. And after Arthur's gone, you still carry him with you
His worn and battered hat on your head. His old journal in your saddlebag where you doddle and note your thoughts. His damn stubbornness deep within your heart.
Folks whisper about the gunslinger girl who used to travel with the outlaw, and who has his eyes - piercing blue, too sharp, too wild, yet still too kind for her own good. They don’t know he never really left your life.
He’s there in every step you take beneath that big, merciless sky of wild west - the ghost of your father, ridin’ just beside you.
@pixelcafe-network @crystalwolfblog @unhinged-bratty-boy
