Dark Arthur Morgan x sis reader
(WARNINGS?MDNI: Abuse, misogyny , possessiveness, restrictions// i don't condone such behaviour irl!.) +Arthur is in his 20's here
"And what about this question, ma'am?" you asked, leaning over Mrs. Anne, your teacher. She ran a small homeschool for girls and Montessori for kids with some of the little kids being your friends' siblings. It was such a cozy, safe environment for studying. Classes started in the afternoon, around 4:30 p.m., and went on until the evening, usually wrapping up by 7 or 8.
You lived in Strawberry with your dad, Lyle, and your older brother, Arthur Morgan. Your dad had changed a lot after your mother's death, becoming an alcoholic and often disappearing for days. Arthur, on the other hand--he was your shield, making you feel both protected and suffocated at the same time. Since your father was usually too lost in his own world or away from home, he didn’t bother you much, only occasionally checking in as if to remind you he was still your father. Meh.
But Arthur--he took his role far too seriously. In fact, he thought he should take on both his and your father’s duties. That’s why you had to ask--or rather, beg--him to let you attend Mrs. Anne's classes when you first heard about them from Isla, your friend who had shown you the poster.
Strawberry wasn’t that big of a town, and after verifying everything about Mrs. Anne, Arthur finally agreed--thankfully. But only on the condition that he would pick you up and drop you off himself. He used to be caring, but not like this. Your mother’s death had changed the two men in the house in completely opposite ways. One stopped caring altogether, while the other became overbearing. And you were just trying to survive, making the best of it.
The urge to run away with your friends felt all too real sometimes. But then you’d think what would Arthur might do if he ever found you? That’s where all your plans would fall apart. You had also learned, through Arthur, that neither he nor your father were earning their money honestly. He tried to keep it from you at first, but eventually told you when you were old enough. You had your suspicions anyway--his words were just confirmation.
Today was like any other day. Arthur had dropped you off outside Mrs. Anne's house as usual. But by 7:30, the weather took a sudden turn--it started raining heavily out of nowhere. It had been a bit windy earlier, but there was no sign of rain. Yet here it was, pouring down. Time passed, and it was now 8:10 p.m., but your idiot of a brother still hadn't shown up to pick you up. You were feeling awkward staying at your teacher's home, despite Mrs. Anne and her husband being the sweetest people. You’d already had two cups of hot chocolate with your friend, Isla, and didn’t want to impose any further.
"(Y/N), he might not come with this heavy rain. We could walk to your house together--it’s not that far," Isla suggested, whispering. It was just the two of us left, as most of the girls had gone home earlier. You both had work to finish, but even if you’d finished sooner, you couldn’t leave without Arthur. Going home without him wasn’t the first option.
"But what if he comes here after we leave?"
Isla groaned. "Mrs. Anne will tell him that we headed to your place. Look at me--my house is even further than yours, what the hell would I do-- oh my God! I can just stay at yours tonight! I already told my mother that if it rains, I might stay over at yours. Let’s just go!."
She had a point. Maybe Arthur was out doing--well, you didn’t even want to think about it. After taking leave from Mrs. Anne, the two of you dashed to your house with the umbrellas she had given you.
Once you reached the small, humble abode, you both headed to your room with the food you had prepared earlier, settling in to chat and relax while enjoying the soothing sound of the rain.
"Where are your dad and brother?" Isla asked.
You shrugged. "I mean--Dad being absent is normal, but Arthur is usually home by now. I’m kind of worried."
"Seriously, (Y/N)? I’d be happy to have the house to myself for a change. Not to mention, some space. He’s--kind of scary, isn’t he?"
"Scary? Well, yeah, sometimes. But trust me, he’s nice and caring. More than Dad could ever be. It does get a bit too much at times, though."
"Mhm. And it’s kind of messed up, isn’t it? The work they do. Both of them." Isla was the only friend you’d confided in about your family, and that was only because she had once seen Arthur with Dutch, a shady con man who often visited Strawberry or rather his boss. You hated Dutch despite never meeting him. He's the reason your brother is now on the same path as your dad.
"What can I do about it? I’ve tried talking to him, but he always shuts me out--" Your eyes caught a glimpse of a paper sticking out of the side pocket of your bag. "Wait, what’s that?"
You pulled out the paper, and both you and Isla began reading it. It was some kind of confession addressed to Mavis, another girl in your class. You couldn’t figure out who wrote it or why it was in your bag. The writer had only signed with an initial: A.
"Oh! Wait, wait, wait! It must be Amell. I saw him whispering to a kid outside from the window. He must be the one who gave this to him to put in Mavis’s bag."
"Amell who? And how did this end up in my bag?" you asked, confusion evident on your face as you looked back at the note.
Isla leaned back against the headboard, stretching her limbs with a relaxed sigh. "Amell is Mrs. Anne’s son. I’ve seen him talking to Mavis before. You and Mavis were sitting together today, and you both have the same colored bags. The kid must’ve gotten confused."
“Is the kid we’re talking about, Anders? He’s so dumb,” you said, shaking your head with a soft chuckle. “Anyway, don’t let me forget to hand this to Mavis tomorrow.”
Suddenly, the door to your room burst open, and Arthur stormed in.
Your eyebrows furrowed at his sudden intrusion. "Um... hi?" you said, your tone a mix of surprise and uncertainty.
Isla straightened up, her eyes quickly avoiding Arthur’s gaze, as she gave a hesitant but polite greeting as well.
"How did you get home?" Arthur's voice was cold, cutting through the room.
"Isla and I came together. Where were you, though?" you asked, trying to keep your tone casual despite the tension.
Arthur’s gaze shifted to Isla. "Isla, the rain has stopped. You should go home. Your family must be waiting."
Isla looked at you, confusion clear on her face. "She’s staying becau-"
"Not today," Arthur interrupted firmly.
"Why not? Are you going to tell me where you were?" you shot back, frustration creeping into your voice.
"Y/N, I--I’ll see you tomorrow."
You let Isla leave, your irritation with Arthur growing. You wanted to talk openly without making Isla uncomfortable in the middle of the family drama. As you moved to escort her to the front door, Arthur abruptly blocked your path. "Stay here," he commanded, his tone brooking no argument.
You sighed and sank back onto the bed, shoving the letter--which was still in your hand--back into your bag. Arthur stormed back in and slammed the door a bit too hard.
"What’s gotten into you?" you asked, trying to keep your voice calm despite the frustration bubbling up inside.
Arthur’s eyes were cold, his jaw set. "What did I tell you about coming home alone?" His irritation was palpable, fixated on the condition he had imposed.
"Well, what was I supposed to do, stay there? It’s 9 p.m.! Where were you?" Your words seemed to only fuel his anger, rather than penetrate his stubbornness.
Arthur’s gaze hardened. "I’ve noticed your tone changing recently, ever since you started going there. What exactly are they teaching you at that place, huh?"
"Basic knowledge. Like not overstaying your welcome at someone’s house when you can walk home," you retorted, trying to keep your tone steady despite your rising frustration.
Arthur’s eyes narrowed further as he took a few steps closer. "Is that so?" His voice was low, dangerously calm. "Well, our dear father got arrested, so I was at the sheriff's. And as for ‘basic knowledge,’" he said, grabbing your bag and dumping its contents onto the floor.
"HEY! My books!!" you exclaimed, a mix of shock and anger in your voice.
"Mhm, what might this be?" Arthur’s attention was fixed on the letter he had seen earlier. He picked it up and read it, his expression darkening as his suspicions were confirmed. "A confession, hmm? An A? This is what you two were gigglin' about earlier?" he murmured, crumpling the letter in his fist, his gaze still locked on it. You gritted your teeth, trying to keep your composure.
"A for… Amell, her son, right?" Arthur’s tone was icy, his eyes boring into you as he processed the revelation.
"What even--- That wasn’t for me! It was for Mavis! Have you forgotten to read?!" you protested, trying to defend yourself. He scoffed at your reply, eyes twinkling with amusement. "So Mavis is your codename?"
"Are you serious?"
Arthur’s eyes narrowed dangerously. "Did he drop you both home, or just you alone? Huh?" His fists clenched tightly, and you could see the anger boiling beneath his calm exterior. Arthur's boots struck the floor with a deliberate, menacing rhythm.
"What are you on about, Arthur? You know that’s not true! A kid put it in my bag. Look, it’s not mine. You can ask Isla."
Arthur’s gaze hardened even further. "Why should I ask her? Hm? She’s your partner in crime, isn’t she? And it’s not like you’re going to see her again."
"W-what? What does that mean?!" you stammered, panic rising in your voice. But nothing could have prepared you for the next moment. Your hands were now on his as he gripped your jaw, your body instinctively going stiff, the fear evident in your eyes. This was the first time he had raised his hands to you in such a threatening manner.
"Yes, no more Isla and no more of that whorehouse you go to. You’ve studied enough. I’ve been too lenient with you." A pained whimper escaped your lips as his gloved fingers dug into your jaw.
"N-no-don’t do that! Why are you not believing me, Arthur?!" you pleaded, your voice breaking. He shoved you by your jaw, sending you crashing to the floor. Your head narrowly missed hitting the bed’s edge.
"If you utter one more word or try to set a foot outside until I say so, especially to that school of yours, I WILL BREAK YOUR FUCKING LEGS!"
His heavy breathing was the only sound you could hear as you stared at the floor, your vision blurred by tears and chest tight with fear and anxiety. He can easily break you in two if he wants to right now, even Isla's gone. "I am here, working these jobs to keep a roof over your head while that fool has clearly given up, and you’re here, frolicking with your lovers! Learning to write fucking love letters." He stood over you, his anger uncontrollable, and grabbed you by your hair, forcing you to lift your head slightly.
"You’ve enjoyed yourself enough. Now stay at the fucking house and make it a home, like Mother did, like you are supposed to do. And I’m dead serious when I say you don’t want me seeing you going near that house or interacting with those little friends of yours, got it? Because I have eyes and ears everywhere." His words were a chilling threat, leaving you too stunned to fully grasp their meaning.
"DO YOU FUCKING UNDERSTAND?!" he demanded, his voice thunderous. He yanked your hair with a brutal force, his actions cold and devoid of the care he once showed you. This was the same brother who used to be so kind, now revealing his true, harsh colors over a simple misunderstanding.
"K-kay," you managed to choke out, nodding with tears streaming down your face. He released you with a rough shove.
"Get up and heat the food. I’m going to freshen up." And just like that, he left, leaving you alone in the oppressive silence. Your books lay scattered around you, their presence a painful reminder of a future now out of reach, as you were left enveloped in a cloud of despair.
Part II
