welcome to my blog! my name is millie, i'm in my early twenties, i've been mostly a reader on tumblr but now i'm giving myself a chance at writing. currently fixated on the game red dead redemption 2, so will write the yeehaw kind of fanfics. in my private life i'm a lover of ancient latin and greek literature (my favorite writers are ovidius and euripides). another thing about me is i'm constantly listening to music, mostly to artists like olivia rodrigo, crawlers, lana del rey, anitta, willow avalon, halsey, maggie antone, kelsy karter, the pretty reckless, toopoor, bad bunny, tate mcrae.
requests!
♡ very much open rn
♡ currently will write for most characters from the game rdr2
♡ i can try writing smut (emphasis on try)
♡ i only write female reader
♡ i can also write character x character
besides that i'm just happy to make friends so if you want, feel free to text me or send asks talking about random things (anon too, i don't mind)
masterlist!
for the love of god don't interact with me if you support any right wing ideologies, any right wing political parties of whichever country. you won't convince me to change my beliefs, and i won't convince you to change yours, there's no point.
theoretically speaking, if you had an argument with a victim complex friend and she cried to her almost 50 years old yet emotionally immature, psychic abilities mother, and the mother started cursing you (and now apparently your family) like genuinely putting curses on you and you physically feel it, what should you do? like do i just protect myself and send it back to the source orrrrr should i get creative??
my uni wants me to do 90 hours of ancient greek this semester i dont even speak normal greek lol i already mix latin, italian, and spanish, adding another language to that is NOT a good idea
on a positive note sober october day 7 is going well, i just sat my ass down to write a charles smith x reader (which was requested on august 21st my apologies ily tho)
WHY DID YOU STOP POSTING WHEN RUSSIA ATTACKED POALND ARE YOU OKAY
i'm okay i think the drones didn't even fall close to where i live lol tho i admit i'm a lil scared of a war happening soon and idk if i should proceed with my masters or get tf out of this country
i noticed a few new followers, and i see your requests too. i don't want y'all to think i abandoned writing or i'm a lazy bitch so i'll just say something real quick
to be completely honest with you guys, i relapsed on my €d and also have been drinking heavily lmao but i don't plan on staying like this. i wanna quit drinking completely because it robbed me of the only thing i liked doing which is writing fanfics. the past few weeks are a blur to me, i remember going out with my bestie once and that's it. i have no memory of any other day
turns out an addict will always remain an addict. one thing i'm extremely happy about is that my ex didn't come back. i still long for him with my whole stupid heart and bpd brain but now i'm sure if he came back, alcohol wouldn't be the only substance i'd be abusing. addiction is stupid asf please don't abuse any substances because when you want to be sober, you'll spend the rest of your life putting effort into not being an addict lol
anyway love y'all 💖 thanks for follows and requests, i WILL be sitting my ass down to write i swear
just had pumpkin spice latte for the first time ever and i totally get the hype
"fall starts in late september, keep your pumpkin spice latte away from my aperol spritz" what a good day to be an alcoholic and not having to wait a year to drink, pumpkin spice for breakfast aperol for dinner
got my period for the red moon and had a dream where i was in nyc and made a vow to move there in the next 10 years guess i can't argue with the universe
meeting people on reddit is so funny because it'll be like them asking "wyd?" and i'm like "witchcraft" and they're like "oh you do witchcraft?" and i'm like "yeah i'm a psychic thru my dad's side of the family" and they're like "oh nice" and i leave them on read because wtf else do i say, but then they text me again like "i'm doing coke" and i go "oh nice" and none of us questions the other one because this is reddit
people on tiktok are wild cus wdym they mad at me for not using big words to articulate my comment oh my god i'm sorry i speak like 4 languages and don't care for shakespeare-esque english IN A TIKTOK COMMENT SECTION OH MY GOD YOU PEOPLE ARE BRAINROTTED HOLY SHIT
Hello I hope you are well I am writing to ask you for a request about Arthur Morgan noticing a nun reader, where they meet while he and Dutch's gang robbed a bank, where Arthur without knowing why now goes more often to a small church only to find her, it is very interesting this kind of interaction of outlaw x nun, something that in fact is not even seen almost I hope you read my request thank you 😘😘😘😘
heyyy sorry i took so long i hope you didn't forget ahahah it's here :3
summary: arthur is wounded during a bank robbery but a young nun helps save him. despite their differences, he finds himself drawn back to the church week after week.
words count: 2k
all pics from pinterest
no spoilers as this is my fanfiction and i do whatever i want so i changed the canon a lil so no canon deaths pls dont beat me up for not caring about canon here
a/n: this was requested, thank you!! <3 sorry if some religious terms aren't correct, i wasn't familiar with them in english but tried my best (i hope the nun house is actually called a monastery)
It was supposed to be the last big score, as Dutch had said. Dangerous, but supposedly worth it. Saint Denis was the richest city in the gang’s proximity. The only city, truly, since all the bridges they had burnt behind led to smaller towns. Meanwhile Saint Denis was something new, something great. As great as Dutch thought his plan was.
Arthur didn’t have any good feelings about it. Quite the opposite, he knew the gang’s leader was making moves without thinking them through. Money was his only motive, but he didn’t realize just how stupid robbing the Saint Denis bank was. It wasn’t a silly little livestock town like Valentine. It had the police on every corner, the bank was guarded well.
But they did it anyway, because in Dutch’s mind if you weren’t with him, you were against him. Like any other job it was fast and brutal, except this one was also loud and must’ve killed like half of the policemen. Nothing beat Blackwater, but this was a close second.
As the gang tried to flee, Arthur’s gaze caught someone. A woman, dressed in a black and white habit. A nun, her hair was covered by the religious veil. Her eyes locked with Arthur’s for a moment, and he could see she wasn’t afraid. There was an eerie calmness in her gaze that made the man feel at the same time tranquil and uneasy.
Then, the sound of a gunshot cut through the air. Just as the gang thought they had dealt with all the police, that they had enough time to run.
John shot the officer who fired that bullet. Then, he turned to Arthur. “Your shoulder, Morgan!”
Adrenaline was running high in Arthur’s body, he didn’t feel the bullet that hit him. He pressed a palm to the spot, and when he looked at it, it was red. That was when he started to feel it. He staggered back a step, the red soaking through his shirt faster than he could comprehend.
“Arthur!” Charles’ voice rang out.
John said impatiently, “We gotta move. The whole city is about to come down on us!”
“I’m fine, let’s go,” Arthur ordered, pressing his hand onto the wound. He hoped it would suppress the bleeding, but it actually didn’t help much.
They barely knew the city, hell, they didn’t know it at all. That was when, surprisingly, the nun played her part. Who would’ve expected a person like her, a woman who dedicated her life to the Father in Heaven, to help a bunch of lowlife criminals?
“That’s what God expects of us all,” the woman said when John pointed out the absurdity of the situation. “Feed the hungry, dress the naked, and treat the wounded. Apparently.” She gave a friendly laugh.
As she tended to the wound, she didn’t look away for a moment. It seemed as if that wasn’t the first time she’d been in such position.
As the nun took care of Arthur, the rest of the men looked around. The nun had led them into a small monastery, and now they were in her room. It wasn’t spacious, but it seemed bigger than it was since the only furniture was a bed and a wardrobe. And a big wooden crucifix above the head of the bed, from which Jesus seemed to stare at the scene in front of Him.
The nun continued, not moving her attention from Arthur. “We have a room for people who need recovering, but I’m afraid I can’t hide criminals.”
“What criminals, miss?” Dutch chimed in using his persuasive mode, but it didn’t seem to have any effect on the woman.
“You’re not gonna tell me your guns started shooting on their own when the four of you just happened to visit the bank, are you?”
For a moment the room was dead silent. That one nun could’ve been better at catching criminals than the whole police department in Saint Denis.
Arthur looked at the woman. Not too long, he didn’t want her to think he’s staring. But she was really close, almost done with cleaning his wound. That must’ve been the first time Arthur had seen a nun so close.
Her touch felt different. To a guilty man like Arthur, it was almost as if God had touched him through her. And it didn’t even hurt, she was so gentle as if the wound was already healing solely thanks to her touch.
Then her gaze drifted upwards, to his face, and their eyes met. She felt her face heating up and took a few steps back. “O-okay, it’s uh clean,” she stammered, now reaching for a bandage, “let me just… wrap it. So it doesn’t get dirty and infected.”
Tending to wounds in places that required the person to remove their shirt wasn’t something the young nun wasn’t used to. It happened more often than one could expect. But right in that moment, she suddenly became ridiculously aware that the man in front of her was, in fact, shirtless.
Arthur looked away, and spoke after clearing his throat, “So, where did you learn all this?”
The nun focused on wrapping the bandage, but her hands hesitated for a second before she answered. “Here,” she said, “people in this part of the city come to us when they have no money for a doctor. Factory workers with crushed hands, cut fingers, children with fevers, women who— you know, it gets bad sometimes. Worse than a bullet wound.”
Arthur’s jaw clenched against the sting of the cloth pulling tight across his shoulder. “You’re a real life saint, sister.”
She smiled at the compliment.
“I don’t think we’ve ever caught your name.”
“It’s Y/n.”
“Well, thank you for patchin’ me up, sister Y/n.”
“It’s nothing. You need rest, you can stay here for a few more hours, but… you won’t be safe here.”
Dutch gave the woman one of his rehearsed smiles. “Don’t you worry, sister. We won’t overstay our welcome.”
Arthur left Saint Denis with the others, shoulder stiff and throbbing beneath the nun’s bandages. She even managed to give him some bandages for later when he needs to change it. But ever since they left the monastery and sneaked out of the city, Arthur couldn’t help but wonder. Was the nun just in the right place at the right time, was it just a coincidence?
Or was it some higher power watching over him? Watching over his rotten, criminal soul even if he didn’t deserve it? Throughout his life, Arthur had done more bad than good. Hurt people, stole from them, killed. He didn’t deserve luck. If God was real, he didn’t deserve His mercy.
Days later, when his wound got better and the dust in the city had settled, Arthur rode to Saint Denis. Why? Because it was dangerous and he was stupid. He should’ve kept away from the city, but some strange invisible string kept pulling him in.
He started thinking, maybe the whole faith thing wasn’t entirely senseless. Maybe the concept of religion wasn’t entirely foolish. He had been an atheist his whole life, but ever since he encountered the nun, his belief system started to shift. His mind started giving him ideas he wasn’t familiar with. Like, what would happen if he were to attend a mass?
So he did. One Sunday, he rode to the city again. Told the gang he needed to run some errands, maybe stock up on ammo or buy some supplies. But instead, he hitched his horse near the church. He saw people gather for the mass, women in elegant dresses, men in their suits.
Among all these people, he saw her. The nun who helped him. Her face was so soft and kind, as if she didn’t carry the burden of saving people’s lives every day. Arthur considered talking to her. Maybe even ask her if it’s okay for him to attend a mass.
But the first time he didn’t. He watched as everyone entered the church and the giant door closed. Soon after that, solemn music started to sound from the inside, someone playing the pipe organ. The whole mass had passed, and Arthur spent all this time listening from the outside.
The next Sunday, he was there again. Once again, he didn’t dare step a foot inside the church. He came later, when the mass had already started. That time he planned to approach the nun after, he even bought some things he thought she might need.
“Oh, you’re the man, who—” she noticed when he approached her.
He didn’t let her finish, making sure she wouldn’t say too much for someone to overhear. “Yes, and I don’t think I can help you enough.”
“Don’t, I told you this is my life, this is my calling. This is what God wanted me to do.”
“If you don’t mind, I have some supplies you might need. You know, for the people you help. Maybe for yourself too, if you’re willing to accept it. It’s all on my horse, let me escort you back to the monastery.”
“This is mighty kind of you, sir.”
Arthur shifted on his feet, rubbing the back of his neck like he wasn’t used to handing out kindness. “Ain’t much. Just some bread, some canned food, some cloth, couple of bottles of medicine. Figured you might need it.”
Y/n’s smile seemed to help his nerves settle. “I knew you were a good man.”
When they reached the monastery, Y/n accepted the sack of goods with a murmured blessing, setting it aside for other sisters to divide. Then she turned back to him. “This is the second time I saw you outside the church.”
“Ah, well,” he took a moment to find it in him to be honest, “I wanted to see how this whole… religion thing is done over here.”
“Why didn’t you come inside, then?”
“Don’t you think I’d stand out a little bit, sister?” He joked, but it was obvious what he was hinting at.
The people who attended church, he saw them, he observed them. Polished gentlemen and poised ladies, dressed in the best clothes probably shipped from Europe. Clean, quiet, knew how to behave at church, grew up knowing how to pray. Despite his curiosity, Arthur would feel like an elephant in a china shop among all these people.
The nun laughed, but spoke honestly. “We’re all equal in God’s eyes. He doesn’t ask where you’ve been, He asks where you’re going.”
Somehow, Y/n managed to encourage Arthur to actually come in next Sunday. He stood there during the mass, right next to her so that he could mimic whatever gestures she was making, kneel at the right time, and say the right things.
This became a regular thing. Every Sunday the man would attend the mass. After, the nun invited him to the monastery and each time he’d stay for longer. He always brought something with him whether it was food, medicine, blankets or even candles.
Eventually he even started agreeing to stay and eat a meal with her. It quickly became his favorite part of the week. Simple bread and stew at a wooden table, but the peace of it felt like a world away from the life he was living.
They were so different yet felt like they’ve known each other for years. Arthur didn’t even know what to call their bond. A friendship? Maybe, but it felt like a strange term. A nun and an outlaw, friends. Maybe the label wasn’t the most important thing. What truly mattered was that for a few stolen hours, he could sit across from her and forget the blood on his hands and the sins that trailed him everywhere he went.
i met him in 2023 when he was in poland for erasmus and he was weirdly kind and affectionate and i was in a situationship w the israeli guy and recently obsessed w the guy who took my vcard, so i had been rejecting him for 2 years and now we're texting again :((( he was in some situationship too but told me it's finished now, but he can't come to me until he's proven not guilty cus he was taken to jail for a few days some time ago and yknow these things take time but he is innocent so it's a matter of time
we're texting sm and i'm smitten with him and he's so nice to me :(((( i'm not used to guys being nice to me
i currently write a fanfic im sorry bestie :((( barely using my phone lately, back to poland soon tho might be gone for a moment in september too tho cus i might go see my huzz in turkey cus he's on a travel ban
