Hang Em' High [RDR2 X FEM!Reader]

The Stars Of Saint Denis

Authors Note:  I hope you all had a VERY Merry Christmas if you celebrate. If you don't I hope you just had an amazing day anyway! The New Year is coming up and I am so excited to see what it brings for us all. Many more chapters will be posted in the New Year and I really hope you enjoy them! Let's go into the new year with joy and excitement and of course Red Dead Redemption! Lots of love as always !!💞💞

TRIGGER WARNING: //// SICK, VOMITING

Bronte was a king in his palace. A lion in his den. Did that make you the innocent zebras that had stumbled oh so innocently into something they weren't quite sure what? All the diamonds, jewels, lights and velvet settees were intimidating to you. You'd learned how to look the sorry end of a shotgun in the eye without flinching, but rich folk? Rich folk were dangerous. Raised with greed and power. They are never afraid to grab what they want, never batting an eyelid at whatever nor whoever they crushed in the process. You made sure to smile and keep your lips glued together as you knew you were bound to blurt out something you weren't supposed to. Dutch cleared his throat and his confidence radiated out of him, overflowing, it all rushed into you.
"Why do you take his son?" Interrogated Dutch
"Great grammar there, Dutch!" You spoke sarcastically and Arthur elbowed you. Your eyes widened as you realised what had slipped out, luckily nobody else heard you. "sorry" you whispered
"Excuse me?" Pondered Bronte, disgust brewing in his eyes
"I said. Why did you take his son?" Answered Dutch. Not backing down, there was a few moments of silence. Angelo was dissecting everything that was happening, you could hear the gears turn in his mind. "We ain't got not problem with you, sir. Nor you with us, but if you want to start one.... There is going to be a lot of folks dead in this room before it's done." You've seen him do it countless times now, but every time Dutch performs its so interesting to you. And honestly quite beautiful if you look at it. He was so majestic in the way he presented himself, he was elegant, like he was floating. The words and the tone in which he used them wasn't something you could just learn.
"So, you walk into my city stinking of shit and looking like this. And you come into my house, before you have a bath and you tell me how to act? You ask me to show compassion? Have I not shown you almost infinite compassion already, by simply allowing you to breathe in my presents?" Demanded Bronte with a dominant tone. You quickly got quite conscious of how poorly you smelled. The men around Bronte all now had their revolvers pointed at you and the gang. Not that you were worried, the way they held their weapons showed that they'd miss their target if it was a foot in front of them. You were surprised when Dutch answered with
"Indeed you have."And he raised his hands up in surrender whilst slowly sitting down on one of the expensive, leather chairs. There was a long pause before he spoke again "Now, we are simple country folk. All we have is each other." You nodded in agreement while the words left his mouth "and you have gone, and you have took his son. Over some dispute with some inbred ex-slavers. It ain't got nothing to do with any one of us."
"You have nothing do to with destroying the liquor business!?" Shot back Bronte very loudly.
"I would not yell at Dutch if I was you." You spoke in your mind
"We was innocent bystanders...." Replied Dutch innocently
"What is he doing? He just shrieked at you?" Your mind argued in confusion as Dutch continued
"And that which we weren't innocent of, well we...." He sighed "we must surely were ignorant of."
Bronte hissed "you, you, you twist words. You lie shamelessly. You think you are better than everyone else." Your eyes narrowed on him, he looked at you and spoke something in Italian. You expected it to not be very pleasant. But then he started laughing and his smile seemed genuine. He flew to his feet and offered out a handshake to Dutch, who was more than happy to accept "Angelo Bronte!" He introduced himself
"Dutch Van Der Linde!" Answered Dutch before moving down the line and introduced you all "Arthur Morgan!" Yelled Dutch and Arthur smiled as Bronte shook his hand excitedly. He then yelled "Y/n y/l/n!" You faked a smile and a "nice to meet you!" As he shook yours. His hands were smooth and soft like squishy silk. And finally
"John Marston!"
"The pleasure is all mine, please!" Bronte offered you all to sit before glasses of alcohol got placed into your hands. You elbowed Arthur and looked at him with a confused look. What on earth was going on? You stirred your glass as you listened carefully to Bronte and Dutch's conversation. There had been many grave robberies and you, Arthur and John had been sent to sort it out, in return, Jack would come home.

As you walked out into the nighttime streets of Saint Denis a cool breeze kissed your cheeks. You looked up to the sky, billions of stars each placed by an artist glittered against the infinite darkness and bursts of blue, pink, green and purple illuminated the many galaxies above. You hoisted yourself onto your saddle and set off to the graveyard. The vibe which bounced throughout the three of you wasn't like you expected. Frost conjured in your lower stomach, why had Bronte switched emotions so quickly? Why was Dutch so calm and surrendering? Something was wrong. You didn't trust any of this. The quicker you got to the graveyard and back, the better.
"D'you fancy speeding it up a bit?" You asked loudly to Arthur and John
"I was just thinking the same thing," replied Arthur and John nodded.

You walked carefully in the graveyard, placing each foot in-front of the other with caution. You had decided to split up, that way you could cover more ground quickly, all you wanted was to get back as fast as humanly possible in one piece. Your feet didn't make a patter. The only noise to be heard was the wind which begged for attention. That was, until you heard mumbling. You froze, only for a second. Checking which direction it was coming from, before pinning yourself against a tall grave. You waltzed from cover to cover until you could hear them breathe. You gripped your revolver from your belt and twirled around the corner.
Blahhhhh....
A drunken man was sick at your feet
"Oh, lovely!" You spoke sarcastically as you removed your feet from the green puddle. The man slurred in his speech, you couldn't really make out what he was saying so you told him to get himself home.
Suddenly shots rang out from the centre of the grave yard. You sprinted towards the noise, droplets of sick splattering off your feet in the wind as you ran. You ran straight into the centre of gun fire without realising it "oh dear" you thought and quickly ducked
"Y/N WHAT THE HELL DO YOU THINK YOU'RE DOING!?" Shrieked Arthur over the many bangs
"I'M SORRY I WASN'T FOCUSING!" You yelled back as you crawled to cover. You stood up behind a grave, peered around and began shooting. You'd gotten the hang of a gun very quickly and were almost better than Arthur at this point. Some would argue you already were. Soon enough your enemies laid lifeless on the floor.
"That was stupid," pointed out John, Arthur looked at him with a sour face
"No? Really? I never would have guessed," he spoke sarcastically
"I was too busy running I didn't know where you actually were!" You defended. Your conversation was interrupted by law men bursting through the gates. The three of you jumped down and spied them, watching their every move. You snuck your way, shuffling your feet and holding your breathe as you walked right by them without them even realising. It was rather scary, but nothing you couldn't handle. You eventually got to the gate and you galloped through the quiet streets.

Pulling up at Bronte's mansion, the three of you leaped off your horses. You almost tripped over your feet as you landed. Dutch burst through the doors and little Jack came running from behind him. Smiling ear to ear, arms stretched out, begging to feel the comfort of his fathers presence. John fell to the floor and scooped his little boy tightly in his arms and buried his nose in his shoulder. You saw water dribbling down his cheek, but you didn't mention it. The scene was something from a movie. The heart warming family reunion and you were honoured to witness it.

With Jack reunited and you all safe without a scar, you all set off home. The moon as your saviour and the stars as your angels. Clearly something had been on your side tonight.