1 - 20 of 79 Works by 2demondogs
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A collection of all the headcanons I've written on my Tumblr blog.
Various reader genders (M, F, trans, etc), various losermen.
Latest chapters: Dad!Arthur & Artistic!Reader, Kieran & Shy!Reader, Arthur & Reader with an Eating Disorder
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Finding his mare's saddle freshly polished, the metal cleaned better than he's ever had the chance to do it, Arthur assumes it was Susan's command. The time he was gone was plenty opportunity to scold Kieran into cleaning Mr. Morgan's saddle and doing it with a smile as penance for whatever run-in she believed they had earlier. Glancing over the other horses and hitching posts hosting saddles, dirt and dust clings to the footstraps of them, the metal dull.
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A real company of the supposed year-old age that Lisbon Royal was meant to be couldn't have answered the questions which they had prepared for meticulously, such was the details to their story. Positively neurotic. Dutch feared a touch insensitive, too. He would have his mentor no other way. They left for Kettering starving mind and body from the overthinking, cotton suits carefully folded in their cleanest saddlebags.
AKA an outrageously long and homoerotic theory of why they stripped Sheriff Carmichael.
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Hosea had never really cared for feeling small before Dutch, but he finds he doesn't mind the inches he's lost on his height beneath him. Maybe it was that easiness he saw in him the potential for, or something in the way he looked at him over the first campfire that said decide. He lacked threat. He lacked authority. How funny it is to know he feels this way about Dutch van der Linde, but— a man always sees who he knew, not who exists.
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Hosea's always been a nice looking feller, but to see him so clearly — that is, behind a layer of gauze that made Dutch's taste for him more approachable than ever — had drawn sharp lines along his features, even when softened with product. He looks better in a Stetson, always, but there was a gentleness about him that kept him from catching in Dutch's throat.
Series
- Part 8 of Kinktober '25
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Molly pauses and considers all of this, scarf hanging between needles. She doesn't understand some of what Dutch says, not because she's incompetent, as she's heard some of these people say, but because to her it sounds like Wilde horseshit.
"I think you've been readin' too much of that Evelyn bloke."
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That man could make a bed of nails sound downy. Where Charles can see how someone as experienced as Hosea comes by lying so easily, Javier must have simply been made for it. Distrust twists Charles' emotions into something even more terrifying than simple sweetness. Twenty-eight and yet able to skip along the spectrum of human emotion so eloquently that he thinks, sometimes, Javier is actually the most honest of them all.
Series
- Part 7 of Kinktober '25
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"I should ask your name," you say, because you've got no other questions for him.
"Should you?" He asks. A humor plays on his lips, at his brows, like it's funny you'd even stop to think about who he is. He grins around his next exhale, before you've even the chance to offer a half-interested chuckle for his joke. "Louis."
Series
- Part 6 of Kinktober '25
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For a man so put together, tightly sewn at the seams regardless of how jaggedly those seams are cut, it is deeply satisfactory to get Javier to tremble without lifting a single finger. Merely your presence can do it, even, the sight of you naked enough to make him blush as though he's never seen another nude before, in art or life. His fingers had shook fixing the harness to your hips, resisting temptation.
Series
- Part 5 of Kinktober '25
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Hosea, with hands that know a lot more and a heart that feels things more wisely, even if the man insists he's nothing but a lucky fool. Competitive or self-conscious, Dutch lays a hand on one of Arthur's that's splayed on the grass.
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Javier ignores how nice of an idea it is, the one of Charles looking at him for pleasure, and pilfers a smoke out of the man's things. Handrolled. So are his, but Charles' taste better.
Series
- Part 4 of Kinktober '25
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The Altar, The Flesh, The Knife by 2demondogs
Fandoms: Red Dead Redemption (Video Games)
09 Sep 2025
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Charles knows himself to be a solemn sort, but where the title of gravedigger is tattooed on his skin is beyond him.
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There won't be a discussion, because there never is a discussion with Sadie. There is only the tucking of clouds into pockets and the move-on, the aggression that throws itself towards whatever moves the most unnaturally in her peripherals. Sudden, biting, and then whatever imitation of docile can be found.
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A yank at his collar comes, ungentle but not uncouth. Hosea blinks and looks right at Javier, finds something sharper beneath his kind expression. “You lie every time I ask you what you're thinking.” Delayed, Hosea looks down at his hand and back up at his face. It moves his eyes too fast, and he might be a little closer to drunk than he realized, head whinging with the glance. Javier frowns. “Do you not know how a conversation works?”
He shouldn’t, but Hosea laughs.
Series
- Part 3 of Kinktober '25
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What Javier feels is the sort of respect that must be written, painted, forged— openly, proudly. Intimacy falls short.
Series
- Part 2 of Kinktober '25
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The room fades in your peripherals. Your hand hesitates, lays against his jaw afterwards. There is sometimes no need for things to be said aloud. Charles lets you close to his throat without flinching, would forgive you for biting it open before thinking it was done in malice. He barely blinks as you push his hair from his temple, let nails run into the roots there before trailing them back to his jaw.
"No one touches me like you do," he says.
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Eyes a little wide, a little wild, Javier looks half-scared to say it. Everything's in the same place it was a moment ago — should be, anyways, beyond the edges of Javier's sweet, half-terrified face is quite blurry — but you have the distinct feeling that something nonmaterial has shifted, has dragged most of your senses with it and left you askew.
Javier cracks when you don't respond, because he's not sure if he will get what he wants. "Will you?"
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To have six dead husbands, though, Maybelle had to be married six times. That's only rumor, she claims, but upon spending the better half of a day with her, Arthur would be surprised if it were false. He'd understand it, too, if he caught wind that she had wrapped the suspender of a seventh fool around her crooked little finger, added another ring to whatever obscene box the rest lay in.
Series
- Part 1 of Kinktober '25
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Dream of a Girl in a Photograph by 2demondogs
Fandoms: Red Dead Redemption (Video Games)
07 May 2025
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It's just a night. You can dream your own dreams, ones about being taken care of, being looked after. Being provided for by someone that knows what he's doing, that can charm, that's got experience in— something, surely. The details don't matter in a fantasy.
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Arthur has come to the realization that, one day, he will have worn his father's hat longer than he knew his father.
A small trilogy about Arthur Morgan and parenthood.