#Four is so done with karen's shit | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

grave-z-boy · 3 months

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Arthur Morgan x Male!Reader

A/n: Tumblr straight up deleted the original ask :/ also the ending is kinda rushed cuz Ive been working on this for too long.

Request: if ur taking requests, can i request a arthur morgan x male reader where the reader gets kidnapped by o’driscolls, gets injured a lot, and arthur comes, pissed asf, screaming, “where is he” and shit, basically rescues reader, and comforts him later after they set up camp and basically start making out which the leads to sex, but arthur is super gentle, and very careful and isn’t sure if they should because of readers injuries but they do and he’s super sweet and, making sure reader is ok and stuff. (already were in a relationship prior to kidnapping) if this is way too much i get it lmfao. i like your writing a lot!! ~anonymous

Summary: Arthur rescues reader after he's been kiddnapped

Word count: 3,442

Warning: torture, murder, reader gets shot, bruises and scars, guns in general, passing out, smut, bottom!reader, top!Arthur Morgan, hurt/comfort, short smut.

A stray bullet flew so close to your ear that you could hear it cutting the air. The oozing hole in your leg only spit out more blood as you crouched down behind a tree, your shoulder pressed hard against the bark as you tried to keep your head from spinning. You whistled for your horse, only to hear a sudden pained whiny from her somewhere across the O’Driscolls camp, you swore under your labored breath. Another bullet flew past you.

Using the tree you pushed yourself up, the old, sharp bark tearing the skin on your palms. Breathing in, you tried to block out the searing pain in your leg. It worked just enough for you to peek around the tree and aim your pistol at the O’Driscoll. Squeezing the trigger, the man fell back, you hit him square in the chest.

He wasn’t the only one though- this camp was chock-full of O’Driscolls, and they were all looking for you. You spotted another man, hunting rifle in hand, slowly creeping into the tree line, you aimed, but he was faster, shooting you in the shoulder. It hurt like hell, you yelled as you hit the ground. He crept closer- he was fast, but he wasn’t a good shot, you could tell as he nervously reloaded his gun. The shot wasn’t enough to kill you, even if you let it sit and fester. Before he could aim again you raised your pistol and shot him, once in the chest, and when he didn’t go down you shot him between the eyes.

Letting out another breath, you pushed yourself onto your knees. Only to feel warm metal against your neck, before you could even swear, you were hit with the butt end of the gun, your vision blurring to nothing in a matter of seconds.

~~~~~~~~~

“He should of been back by now..” Arthur said for about the fourth time this hour.

“Y/n’s a strong man, he’ll be fine. Probably just…camping out again.” Karen, who’d had to listen to him complain about four times this hour, muttered, her hands and mind more focused on mending a pair of Sean’s pants.

Sitting with Karen tended to comfort Arthur more than it should have, but right now her presence only made it worse. Her husband was out there with you and yet she wasn’t worried. She sat idly sewing like death couldn’t come to her man at any time. Arthur knew all too well how death could sneak up on a person. Especially you, who have had at least a dozen near-death experiences this year alone, and dozens more in the years before that, and that's with Arthur around to try and keep you breathing, he doesn't like to think about the shit you’d gotten yourself into before you met. Some of your little stories, stories you told so casually, made him sick at best and unbearable angry at most. You were everything to him and to think of what people had done to you made his blood boil beneath his skin.

“Look there, it's Sean, Y/n shouldn't be too far behind.”

Looking up, Arthur watched Sean nearly fall off his horse, leaving his lead untied, then bolting straight towards Arthur.

“They got him!” Sean shouted as he ran through camp, “Those fuckers got Y/n!”

Arthur was on his feet faster than he could process, grabbing Sean by the collar, forcing the frantic, fidgety man to stay still- at least a little so he could explain himself.

“Who has him?” he asked through clenched teeth, he knew he shouldn't be mad at Sean but he was. Whatever happened, they were supposed to be watching each other.

He felt Karen's hand on his shoulder but paid it no mind.

“We were just riding around, found some O’driscal camp out North. I swear I didn't mean to leave him, but we were surrounded and I thought he’d get out on his own-”

“You left him?!”

“I heard a horse bolt and I thought he was on it-”

“Bullshit, you're a goddamn coward, Sean-”

“Arthur!” Karen shouted from behind him.

Arthur's grip on Sean loosed enough for Karen to drag him away, muttering comforting words to him.

Arthur was out of camp in less than a minute, pushing his horse to the limit, blowing past trees, towns, and other riders until he came across your horse, standing in the middle of the road, dried blood covering its left side.

He breathed out slowly, hopping off his horse, taking slow, careful steps towards the spooked thing, hesitating for a moment before petting him.

“That's it..” he muttered, listening to the horse whiny, “I know, I know. I'll find him..”

Arthur caught a glimpse of something moving out of the corner of his eye, just beyond the tree line. He took the lead of your horse and guided him off the road, carefully watching the barely hidden man. The only thing keeping Arthur from seeing him was the shadow cast by the trees and the rapidly falling sun.

With his hand hovering over his pistol, he gave your horse one last look before a sudden shiny glint caught his attention. He didn't think, whipping his pistol from its leather holder and firing, watching the glint disappear and the shadowy figure falls back.

Letting out a breath he didn't know he was holding, he walked forward into the treeline, glancing down at the body, and the gun in its hand, then stepping over it.

~~~~~~~~~

Your own senseless muttering was the only thing keeping you awake, pain searing across every part of your body, blood pooling beneath you, dripping from your wounds, down to your feet, and into the waiting puddle below. The quiet dripping of your blood had become too soothing, too rhythmic- in your exhausted form it had begun lulling you to sleep.

You knew you couldn’t, you weren’t stupid enough to let that happen. You’ve seen guys twice your size with wounds yards milder than yours take little naps and never wake up. You weren’t going to risk it.

You blinked in the darkness, you’re husband will be here soon. Sean rode out like his ass was on fire, camp was only a couple of miles away, Arthur will ride in here, ready to blow the whole damn camp- and every O’Driscoll he sees- sky high. You laughed at the thought, wincing when the slight move aggravated every open wound, as well as the robe burns around your wrist.

The door behind you slammed open, the pitch-black room was suddenly flooded with the warm, mid-day sunlight.

Heavy footsteps thudded behind you, getting louder and louder as they came towards you. Without warning, your hair is pulled back, your scalp flared with pain, but subsides quickly. You locked eyes with the man, tall and pale, yet so strong, as you had learned over the past few hours.

“How many times do I have to tell you to shut up?” he growled, a forced glare on his face.

You opened your mouth to respond, something hurtful and defiant, just as all of your other words had been. But you couldn’t, your throat was dry, and the bruise on your cheek was sweltering. So you just stared at the man.

There was a sudden thud from outside, then another, and another.

You blinked hard, the tall man let go of you, hand on his holster, creeping towards the door. He peaked around the door, glanced at you with that same forced glare, then back out the door. When breathed in deeply, then jumped into the doorway, whipping his gun out as fast as he could. It was in his hand maybe half a second before he was shot at least four times, falling back when the first two hit him square in the face, the other two must have just been for fun, once in the neck, then in the chest.

Unnecessary, rageful- more thuds came from outside, shouting, screaming, gunshot. You closed your eyes, letting your head hang low, finally relaxing your strained neck. You were being rescued.

~~~~~~~~~

The O’Driscoll camp wasn't hard to find, from afar, it looked normal, a couple of guys sat in an unhorsed wagon, drinking, and laughing, a couple more were cooking around a fire. Two were standing guard outside the door of a shack, the only permanent building in the camp, all holding guns. Every last member of the O’Driscoll camp.

Arthur breathed out, he wanted to think this out, he wanted to be reasonable, he wanted to sneak you out the back, a quiet escape. But it was too peaceful here, they were having too nice of a day and you were somewhere, hurt- or…worse- and they didn't care or better yet they were happy about it. About your pain.

Arthur checked his gun, then his knife, it's all he needed.

Then, he charged.

The first man to notice him didn't even get to get a word out before being met with a bullet, the next four followed the same fate. The last man from around the fire made a perfect hostage. Young, the whole crew jumped when he was grabbed. Arthur held a gun to his head, one arm around his throat, glaring at the others as they closed in around him.

“Let ‘im go!” one of the men shouted, gun trained on Arthur.

He wouldn't shoot, it was too close of a shot.

“I'm only gonna ask once,” Arthur yelled, the man shrunk away from him, “Where is y/n!”

Silence.

Arthur pulled the hammer of his gun back.

“We don't know no ‘y/n’, whoever the hell he is, he ain't here!” the same man as before shouted.

Arthur blinked, then pulled the trigger. The man hung limply in his grip for a second before he let him crumble to the floor. A bullet flew past Arthur's ear a second later.

Somebody here is fast- a shame he can't aim.

Arthur shot the five men down before anymore could pull their guns.

The camp erupted into a mix of shouting orders, and screams of pain as Arthur made his way through the camp. His gun was holstered in exchange for a knife and his bare fist.

Another man, also young with dark hair, watched with wide horrified eyes as Arthur practically tore a man open with his knife, then set his sights on him. Running didn't work, he didn't get very far. Jerked back by the back of his collar, turned around with so much force his legs gave up on coordination and ended up in a heap. Arthur held him by his rumpled, red shirt.

“Where is he?!” Arthur said through gritted teeth, his voice deep and guttural, panting from the force he'd used on every man in this camp who stood in very similar positions to the man he was holding right now.

“The shack-” the man nearly cried, choking on his own breath, “it’s-it’s where we keep our meat.”

Arthur shoved the man to the floor, his back hitting the ground with enough force to crack it.

In the short moment he had- he could hear more members of the camp coming- he reloaded his gun.

Two O’Driscolls came from behind a large tent. Arthur got them in one shot, straight through both mens chests, they collapsed on top of each other in a soon-to-be rotting heap.

The rush of O’Driscoll’s was brought to a quick and brutal end. The last line of defense for the meat shack- for you- was a tall, pale man.

With bullets to spare, Arthur emptied the barrel of his gun into the man, storming into the shack. It was dark, the soft light the sun provided wasn't enough, old wood creaking beneath his boots as he took slow, careful steps inside. Vague figures, six, hanging from the ceiling.

Even in the dark, he recognized you immediately. His heart sank as you hung there, unmoving.

A sudden deep breath broke the silence, then a groan. You shifted slightly against the rope around your wrist, muttering something as you did.

Holstering his gun, he sped over to you, putting both hands on your face, and even in the impossibly low light he could still see your eyes staring straight into his.

Cutting you down and carrying you out was a blur, he didn't look at you, your body, he didn't think he could, not with how he was now. He knew you were hurt, you'd hissed painfully when he picked you up, and despite his attempts to keep his eyes off of you, he could see that your shirt, at the very least, was torn and stained with blood.

He felt like he was burning, even with the camp extirpated and you safe in his arms. He still felt a furor building in his chest as he searched for your horses.

Your head rested against his chest, eyes just barely open, vision entirely blurred.

Unaware of your surroundings, you let Arthur’s familiar presence take you over. Listening to his ragged breath and pounding heart.

You don't remember being brought to camp or dozing off, but you felt better, your arms felt lighter and your head had stopped spinning, you could feel bandages on your shoulder, stomach, and leg. You blinked, looking down at yourself, your clothes had been changed, they were mismatched but comfortable. Resting your head back against the cot, glancing around the little camp Arthur had set up.

Kneeling by the fire, swearing under his breath as he stared into the hanging pot.

Pushing yourself up, you realized how sore your wrists still were, but you pushed passed it. Finding your barrings, you walked over to him, feeling dirt and twigs crunch under your boots. Arthur, staring so deeply into the pot, so frustrated with everything and everyone, did not hear you coming.

You sat behind him, wrapping your arms around him, squeezing him tight, feeling his warmth envelope your aching body.

“Hey, Hon..” you muttered into his neck, your throat was a little sore, you realized.

His hand found yours quickly, but they lingered on your wrist, over what would soon be scars. You breathed deeply, setting your head on his shoulder.

“Rope burn ‘s no joke”

You heard him breathe out.

“I was so…” he started, trying to find the word.

Enraged, pissed, livid, angry-

“..scared. With Sean riding into camp the way he did I couldn't help but think the worst.”

Sighing, you moved carefully to sit next to him. Your bruises ached, your cuts and gashed burned, and the bullet wound in your shoulder felt like hell, but you smiled.

“You know I'm not going anywhere, not without you. If I'm going to hell you bet your ass I'm taking you with me.”

Hd smiled softly, “I know, I know,”

Stirring the pot a bit, he said “Food’s not gonna be done for a while.”

“How long?”

“‘Bout an hour.”

You hummed, leaning your head on his shoulder, a moment passed, you pressed a kiss into the leather of his coat, another moment passed, you kissed his neck, right under his jaw. You felt him shift his head to the side.

A few more moments and a few more kisses later he pulled away. He was already hesitant to reciprocate, he'd seen the extent of your injuries when he was cleaning you up, it was a hard sight to see. So many cuts and bruises that no matter how hard he tried he couldn't keep track of them all.

The second he reciprocated, wrapping his arm around your waist and pulling you closer to him, kissing you slowly, his hand curling around your hip- he pulled away when a small, pained noise left your throat.

Guilt immediately flooded Arthur, his heart clenching, then dropping into his stomach when you moved your pants down to reveal a deep purple bruise. Still fresh and no doubt painful.

He mumbled your name as you checked out the bruise, then fixed your pants, looking back up at Arthur like nothing had happened.

“I’m okay,” you said, your mood clearly not phased the way Arthur’s was.

“I’m sorry..”

You hummed, getting close and leaning your head on his shoulder.

“Don’t be.”

“You know I can't help it..”

You pressed a short kiss into the crook of his neck.

“Then make it up to me.”

It was a well known fact that Arthur was wrapped around your finger, you knew it, he knew it, and all your friends at camp knew it. So it didn't take much begging, despite his better judgment.

His brain was screaming at him- you were hurt, covered in bruises. Sex would not make you better, it would actually make you worse.

Yet here he was, kneeling on the cot with you laying in front of him, a relaxed smile on your face as he popped each button on you pants open. You spread your legs, hanging them over Arthur’s hips. He hesitated.

Your hands found his in a moment, pulling them up to your lips and kissing from his wrist all the way up to the tips of his fingers. He sat there silently admiring you, every touch of your lips stinging him with a feeling of both guilt and need.

You stopped with a bite, taking the tip of his thumb in your mouth, biting with just a little bit of pressure. Then you kissed it like you had done all the others. It brought to mind a rougher memory, with you at his mercy, with him doing nothing while watching you writhe, pleas falling from your lips rapidly.

He blinked and the memory was gone.

Arthur let out a slow, unsteady breath. Then leaned down, burying his face in your neck, listening to your breath, feeling your pulse, kissing your exposed skin. Hearing the relieved sigh you let out, he began to grasp just how much you wanted him.

With practices ease, he blindly unbuttoned your shirt, moving from marking your neck to marking your exposed chest.

As gently as he could muster, he ran his hands down your sides, feeling the hard, hot bruises that littered your body.

You breathed out as he went farther and farther down, from your neck, to your chest, all the way down to your barely exposed hip. His fingers in two belt loops, slowly tugging your pants lower and lower. He kissed every inch of your skin, and every time he exposed more, he devoured it.

Pulling back to take your pants all the way off, nearly disturbing the now healing cut that went across your thigh. Your already hard cock rested against your stomach. Balling up your pants and setting them to the side. Resisting the urge to run his hands across each scab that had formed on your skin. A deep-seated urge to soothe and comfort, but he knew he couldn't do much more than he already had.

He pressed into you slowly, holding your hip steady in his hands, your thighs flinching several times, bitting down on to your lip as the pain of being stretched open lit every nerve in you body. Letting out a rigid, stuttered breath as he slowly pulled out after a moment of waiting- your hand squeezing his arm, giving him permission to move.

He did, holding your body close to his, reveling in every little whimper and moan, no matter how small. His praise boundless and constant as he thrust into you. You could feel him holding back, you’ve been with Arthur far too long to no know- he’s doing it for your well-being- you probably couldn’t handle more that what he’s giving you now.

Your body clung to Arthur’s as you came, your own shattered breath was the only sound you could hear for a long moment. Slowly releasing Arthur from your crushing grip, you blinked as your vision - which you hardly even realized was skewed- became clear again, and the mildly worried face of your lover came into view.

You couldn't help but smile- not that you wanted to let help it- especially as relief flooded his rigid figure.

“‘You okay?”

You nodded, shutting your eyes for a moment, finding that opening them became harder with every second that passed. You could hear Arthur talking, small mutters to you or to himself, your words only came out as a quiet, incoherent noise. You were exhausted, but quite happy. Even as your body settled and new pains set in with the old ones. You were happy.

#male reader #male!reader #x male reader #male y/n #arthur morgan x male reader #arthur morgan x male!reader #red dead redemption 2 x male reader #red dead redemption 2 x male!reader #red dead redemption 2 #✮ — z boy

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red-dead-do-over246 · 11 months

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Can I get some javier x reader angst with #214?

Yes! Hope you enjoy!💖

*Angst Warning*

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There's a Rat Among Us

Javier is extremely loyal to Dutch, and he won't let anything interfere with his boss's grand plan. Not even you.

#214 “I didn’t realize I was such an inconvenience.”

Beaver Hollow was as dark and empty as the gang's morale. People were turning on each other, secrets were being whispered, and lies were being told. After the death of Hosea, Micah had weaseled his way in as Dutch's right-hand man. And Dutch...he had completely turned his back on everyone who he raised. You, John, and even Arthur.

But Dutch still managed to sway the minds of even some of the most level-headed gang members.

Of course, Bill would continue to ignore the truth and stay by Dutch's side, but you were surprised by Javier's actions. He was an extremely loyal man, it was one of the reasons you loved him, but he was becoming a different person. With the way he treated you and others...it made you uneasy.

It was like Javier was becoming paranoid.

"Arthur, what's wrong?" You were busy with your horse outside of camp, finding the company of the four-legged animal to be more appealing than anyone in camp, even Javier at the moment.

"I need to leave." He muttered, voice raspy and ending with a rough-sounding cough. It made your heart break each time you heard him. It was like Arthur was withering away.

"What happened?" You asked. You knew things were shit right now, but Arthur was usually the backbone of the gang. The one who would stand up and persevere if things were to go arwy.

"Sides are being chosen...Micah's gone and convinced Dutch that there's a rat among us...Javier just got done harpin' on me about that. I need some time away from here." Arthur said, all that talking leading him to have a coughing fit. Again, your heart ached for him, but you knew better than to ask if he was alright. Arthur was never one for wanting pity or concern.

But hearing what Javier said to him...it made your blood boil.

"I'm going to go and talk to him." You said angrily. Arthur already knew who you were talking about and nodded, wishing you luck as he went to go and mount his horse. He decided that some fishing might be more peaceful.

Meanwhile, you marched back into camp like you were on the warpath. You've had it up to here with Javier's behavior. The whole camp was silent, each doing their own thing. Micah was whispering something to Dutch, the ladies were keeping to themselves, expect Karen who was drinking again, but there was one thing that would always hurt you whenever you walked back into the camp of Beaver Hollow.

No sound of Javier's singing.

No matter how upset you were right now, the pain that came with his silence would always hurt you. The camp used to always be warmed by his guitar and his singing, and now, it was void of all delightful music. It was like the man you knew really did die back on Guarma, and this is all you have left.

The shell of a man you once loved.

"Javier? Where are you?" You muttered to yourself as you peered around camp, avoiding eye contact with Micah's buddies that decided to make themselves at home. As you moved behind one of the wagons, you caught your lover leaning against a dead tree, smoking.

"What did you say to Arthur?" You cut right to the chase before he could try to swoon you with any of his charming words. But his eyes didn't even soften when he looked at you. He didn't even greet you with one of his pet names that he's given you.

"I said what needed to be said." He responded, tossing his cigarette with force as his full attention was now on you. You hated that you tensed.

"Arthur is no rat! How dare you even accuse him so!" You shouted at him, not even caring that other members of the gang were starting to stare. He narrowed his eyes, a suspicious look on his face as he gazed at you.

"Why do you care so much? Do you love Arthur now?" He accused you, and you scoffed. You couldn't believe that Javier would actually say that to you after all the time that the two of you had spent together. All that time around the fire, the sweet moments that you guys had away from camp, how he would always know how to cheer you up and make you smile, and even more, that night you gave yourself to him for the first time.

Did that mean nothing to him anymore?

So, you slapped him.

"Fuck you Mr. Escuella!" You shouted at him, voice full of rage. Your body was practically shaking as you tried to calm your anger. Your hand stung, but it was nowhere near the pain that was inflicted on Javier's cheek, which he was now clutching, using his other hand to keep him from crashing into the tree.

He was fuming, but he kept himself from cursing at you, even though curses were going through his head a mile a minute.

"You know," Javier waited for the ringing in his ears to die down a bit before speaking up again, removing the hand from his cheek, "with how quickly you defended him, I would say you know who the rat is."

"There is no rat." You seethed at him, but he just crossed his arms, eyes narrowing on you once more.

"I think it's you."

Those words hurt you more than upset you. Even after everything that's just happened, even though your guys' relationship is seemingly crumbling, you never thought that Javier would accuse you of betraying the gang. Not ever.

"I would never betray these people like that." You defended yourself, but he merely shrugged, a redness forming on his cheek from where you slapped him; a painful reminder that you've probably lost him for good now.

"I don't believe you." He simply said.

"Are you calling me a liar?" You asked him, hurt feigning on the tip of your tongue as you tried to sound tough.

"Mentiroso." He said to you in Spanish, and you didn't even need him to translate it to know that he was calling you a liar. Your shoulders shook, but not with anger this time. You could already feel the tears threatening to spill from your eyes.

"You know, we don't need this right now. We don't need you. You're just causing problems for everyone, especially me." He told you and your chest heaved as you tried to keep yourself from emotionally breaking.

“I didn’t realize I was such an inconvenience.” You muttered to him, and Javier just looked away from you.

"Dutch needs me strong." Javier said to you, obviously ignoring the sounds of your heart shattering. You didn't even have the strength or anger to hide your heartbreak anymore. He was gone. Javier was gone and replaced by someone else.

"Then you can sleep with him from now on." You growled at him before turning on your heels and leaving.

"Puta." You hear him mumble.

Once you were out of sight and in the safety of your tent, you allowed yourself to cry freely. You hated how pitiful you sounded right now, desperately trying to cover your sobs with your hand as you grabbed your clothes and other belongings. But soon, you couldn't stop the pitiful wails as you packed your things. You were sure that everyone could hear you, but Javier broke your heart, and you accepted the betrayal now.

"Where are we going?" You asked Javier as you held onto him from behind on the back of Boaz. Out of the blue, he had asked you to come with him somewhere.

"It's a surprise." He responded, and you could practically hear the smile on his face. You groaned a bit, causing him to laugh.

"Nearly there, mi amor, I promise." He said, urging the horse to move a bit faster. The sounds of hooves hitting the dirt filled your ears as you watched the sun dip further into the sky. You soon rested your head on Javier's shoulder, dozing off a bit until the horse was finally halted.

"We're here." He announced before sliding off his horse and helping you down. You thanked him with a kiss to the cheek, and looked around.

You noticed that you guys were at a cliff that overlooked the Grizzlies and the sun that was starting to set. It was a bit chilly as the wind blew and you soon noticed that someone (a certain outlaw perhaps) had already been here as a blanket was lain there. There was also some flowers.

"I noticed that you were sad, querida. I heard you crying in your tent, and I knew that I had to make you smile again." Javier explained to you as he walked by you, grabbing your hand as the other held his guitar.

"I...I love you." You nearly cried again as your gratefulness came out in the expression of your feelings for him. Javier just chuckled before pulling you down onto the blanket with him, telling you that he loved you back through a tender kiss to your forehead.

"I know how much you love to hear me play, so I brought this with." He said as he settled the guitar in his lap, seeing your eyes light up with pure happiness.

As the evening went on, Javier had discarded his jacket to you once he realized how cold you were. You then cuddled into him as he continued to play, sharing a bottle of whiskey here and there. You were no inconvenience to his songs as you wrapped arms around him and kissed his cheek, letting him know how much happier you felt now.

"Are you truly better, mi amor?" He asked, hoping he did a good job in cheering you up.

"You always know how to make me smile again." You told him as you moved to kiss him properly, your heart swelling with love for him.

You blinked away more tears as you recalled that memory. Last time you were sobbing like this, he had planned something just to cheer you up. Javier took time out of his day just for you. He gave you affection and it was clear to you just how much you meant to him. Now, you knew that it was all gone, which caused another sob to escape your mouth as you covered it pitifully.

You made your decision to leave him and the gang for good.

But little did you know, Javier had heard you sobbing from where he was against that tree on the outskirts of camp. You would never knew this, but he did feel a little guilty about the things he said, but it was too late for regrets. All he could do was push it to the back of his memory and focus on his loyalty to Dutch.

However, when morning came and you were gone, all those regrets he pushed away came back tenfold.

"What did I tell you? Relationships do nothing but make you soft, that's why Y/N left. Too soft." Micah told Javier the next day after discovering your disappearance.

Javier said nothing to him.

"You're stronger now." Micah said in a tone that could be compared to the hissing of a snake as he patted Javier on the shoulder before leaving and going back to Dutch.

Javier soon found the strength to move his feet and enter your tent. The whole place was devoid of any sign of you. All he could think of was you sobbing in here as you most likely packed to flee this place. To flee from him.

The Mexican outlaw then sat on your cot, shoulders heaving as he tried to control his emotions. Not anger, however, but rather sadness. His head found its way into his hands as he gripped at his hair till his knuckles turned white. Soon, sobs could be heard coming from your tent once more.

But it wasn't you.

It was the man you once loved, feeling all the guilt in the world, and wishing he could've lost enough arrogance to sing you one last song.

#red dead redemption 2 #red dead redemption 2 x reader #rdr2 #javier escuella #rdr2 javier #javier escuella x reader #javier x reader #javier imagine

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parkerslatte · 1 year

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Songbird || TWENTY-FOUR

Eddie Roundtree x Fem!Reader

Warnings: none

Word Count: 2.2k

Part Summary: Twenty years after the infamous Chicago show, the band reveal what they did after they split.

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TRACK TWENTY—FOUR;

LOOK AT US NOW

…

ROD REYES: Next morning, we were waiting on the bus.

KAREN SIRKO: I remember thinking it would be okay. We’d been through hell, but we were the other side of it now.

ROD REYES: I mean, I’m trying to figure out how to tell everybody Daisy’s leaving. And then I see Eddie.

EDDIE ROUNDTREE: Y/N left the night before and I knew I had to let her leave and it was the hardest thing for me to do. I left the next morning, I couldn’t get back on that bus if she wasn’t there.

ROD REYES: The irony is, the chosen ones never know they are chosen.

KAREN SIRKO: I wanted to be a rock and roll star. To travel the world and play music for strangers. And that’s what I did, it’s what I still do.

GRAHAM DUNNE: I moved back home to Hazelwood. I fell in love and started a family. I have a wife and kids now who are my whole world. I’ve got Karen to thank for that. I’d probably still be pining after her if she hadn’t been brutally honest with me that night.

KAREN SIRKO: I mean, I told him what he needed to hear. But I wasn’t being honest with him.

EDDIE ROUNDTREE: I went and formed my own band, we weren’t bad, just, you know.

WARREN ROJAS: I’ve been a session drummer for years now. I mean, I’ve been on some…some records, you know? Classics. I married Lisa back in ‘82, still can’t believe she said yes. No one asks me to sign their tits anymore but, that’s okay….Actually, that’s not true, Lisa sometimes, she’ll, you know, just to be nice.

SIMONE JACKSON: Bernie and I, we opened this club. It’s ours and we play it all, whatever gets you up and moving. Sometimes I even get up there myself. Still brings the house down.

ROD REYES: I quit the business once and for all after that. I was heartbroken when they fell apart. More than I’d been with any other band, I just… didn’t think I could take another blow, you know? Get your heart broken enough times, you stop falling in love. Except, no, you don’t. But that’s a story for another time.

Y/N L/N: My album In The Morning, finally came out in ‘78 and it was the number one album of the year. My two singles were on it along with a shit ton of new songs I had written. I went on tour, got married, got divorced, had another relationship, broke up. A lot of stuff happened in those years.

BILLY DUNNE: Teddy died in ‘83. They found him hunched over a sound board after another all-nighter. He died doing what he loved, just like he said he would.

DAISY JONES: Everything that I have and everything that I have done, my music, my sobriety, my daughter, is all because I left that night.

Y/N L/N: I was happy with Eddie, that part is true, but when I left, I found myself. I found my music, I found a life outside of that band, I found a life where my life didn’t revolve around Eddie Roundtree.

INTERVIEWER: How did you feel when Y/N left?

EDDIE ROUNDTREE: I was heartbroken but I knew she was going to. Y/N completed me like no one else, she loved me like no one else. But she needed to work on herself without me, without any of us. She needed to heal.

Y/N L/N: I loved Eddie so much that leaving physically pained me. I felt it in my heart, in my lungs, in my whole body. I’ve never loved someone as much as I loved Eddie.

INTERVIEWER: What about your first husband?

Y/N L/N: When I married my first husband, we both knew that we didn’t love each other as much as we should. We married out of convenience and feeling like we had to to please other people. I loved him but I wasn’t in love with him. Five months after we married we separated, it wasn’t working out. It was never going to work out.

INTERVIEWER: Did you have any other relationships after Y/N?

EDDIE ROUNDTREE: A few but none of them lasted long. None of them were Y/N, no one would ever hold a flame to her.

Y/N L/N: Did you know that Y/N L/N is now only my stage name?

INTERVIEWER: I had heard about that, would you care to explain?

Y/N L/N: L/N is only a part of my stage name now, it’s what most people know me by. It’s like a brand, you can’t change it once people know who you are. My albums have the name Y/N L/N plastered across them, posters and banners all read that name. I’m bound by the name Y/N L/N. I mean I love it, it’s a badass name…but I think I prefer Y/N Roundtree a little better.

:: THE CAMERA PANS OUT AND EDDIE ROUNDTREE TAKES A SEAT NEXT TO Y/N L/N ::

Y/N looked at her husband and took his hand in hers, pressing a kiss to it. The two smiled at each other with pure love and adoration in their eyes.

EDDIE ROUNDTREE: I proposed to Y/N in March 1983, we hadn’t seen each other since that night in Chicago but I knew immediately when she showed up on my doorstep that I needed to do it then or I never would.

Y/N ROUNDTREE: We got married in December 1983, small ceremony with only close family and friends in attendance. Though obviously the tabloids got wind of it.

EDDIE ROUNDTREE: We started making music together and have three albums out that are very successful. We started our record label, Mockingbird Records, in ‘87 and we’ve produced some big records.

Y/N ROUNDTREE: We had our kids in ‘84 and ‘86 and I didn’t think my heart could be big enough for them. I never thought I would be a mother, but those two are my whole world.

EDDIE ROUNDTREE: Our kids mean everything to me, I mean if you told me that at the age of twenty-four that in ten years I’d have my first kid, I wouldn’t have believed anyone. I never saw myself having kids, but as soon as our son was born I couldn’t help but fall in love. And when our daughter was born, that love only intensified.

INTERVIEWER: Would you mind talking about Camila?

Y/N closed her eyes, her eyes already filling with tears at the mention of her name. Eddie held his wife’s hand tightly as tears sprung to his eyes also.

“Julia,” Y/N began, “I don’t know if…”

“Please, Aunt Y/N.” Julia says.

Blinking away her tears, Y/N nodded.

Y/N ROUNDTREE: Camila Dunne was the most amazing woman I ever met. She understood me, she always made sure I was okay when I felt down. She was always there for me. I miss her more than you could ever imagine, she was my best friend.

KAREN SIRKO: I mean she was the reason I joined the band. She was the reason I stayed.

DAISY JONES: She saw a future for me that I couldn’t see for myself, and she was right.

GRAHAM DUNNE: I can’t.

WARREN ROJAS: What’s crazy is that anyone even remembers The Six.

EDDIE ROUNDTREE: When Aurora was released on CD, we sold another, what, two million copies, three million?

Y/N ROUNDTREE: What’s strange about it is that people no longer know me from the band, and when they see me on the cover they get confused, [chuckles] It is quite funny.

GRAHAM DUNNE: You know, it came on in the car the other day. The, uh, classic rock station. I thought that was crazy.

BILLY DUNNE: It’s fun to think you did something, you know? Left your mark on the world.

JULIA DUNNE: Would you ever want to do it again?

DAISY JONES: Do what, honey?

JULIA DUNNE: You know.

DAISY JONES: I don’t know how your mother would have felt about that.

JULIA DUNNE: I do.

***

The camera was switched off and Y/N let out a sigh of relief. She slumped back against Eddie as he wrapped an arm around her shoulders.

“Thank you both for doing this.” Julia says.

“Thank you for doing this Julia,” Y/N says, “Now I’ll get the press off my back from asking me questions about it.”

Julia laughs as she packs away her camera.

Y/N turned to Eddie and pressed a kiss to his lips. They had been married fourteen years but she felt young whenever she kissed him. As she pulled away she smiled at him. He looked the same as he did when they were in their twenties and completely oblivious, except with the addition of some facial hair, a few more wrinkles and some grey hair coming in.

“I love you.” Eddie says.

Y/N smiles and it is the same smile Eddie fell in love with years ago, “I love you too.”

Once Julia was packed away and bid goodbye to Y/N and Eddie, the two retreated into their house just as the sun began to set. Their two children sat together watching television, their son, August, a lot more invested than their daughter, Dahlia.

“Have you finished now?” Dahlia asked, perking up once she saw her parents walk through the door.

“Yes honey, we’re finished.” Y/N says, sitting on the couch next to her daughter.

“Finally,” August says, “Can I go and play outside now?”

“Not now, it’s nearly dinner time,” Eddie says, “You can play outside tomorrow.”

August groaned, “But I need to practise for the game on Friday and I haven’t been able to do it all week.”

Y/N and Eddie share a look and Eddie sighs, “Look, you can practise for an hour outside after dinner.”

August slumped against the couch, “What are we having for dinner anyways? Whatever we have won’t be ready for over an hour, why can’t I go and practice now.”

Y/N sighs and shakes her head before smiling, “Why don’t we order pizza? And we can help you practise.”

August perked up, “Really?”

“Really,” Y/N says and Eddie nods, “It’s the least we can do from banishing you from the garden all week.”

August suddenly got up from his seat on the sofa, “I’m going to get my shoes on, hurry up!”

Dahlia didn’t move from the couch, “Why can’t we do something I want to do?”

“We can tomorrow,” Y/N says, “Don’t tell your brother but we’re taking you somewhere you’ve always wanted to go.”

“Disneyland?” Dahlia questioned.

“Maybe,” Y/N smiled, “But don’t tell your brother.”

“I won’t.” Dahlia says before standing up and walking out of the living room following her brother.

“Fifty bucks she tells him.” Y/N says.

“You’re on.” Eddie says as the two shook on it.

Not even ten seconds later, August comes rushing back into the room, “You’re taking Dahlia to Disneyland, that’s not fair.”

“We have to play your stupid game.” Dahlia argued, beginning to walk out of the room.

“It’s not stupid Dahlia, it’s a way of life.” August says while following Dahlia.

“A way of life?” Dahlia says, “You sound stupid.”

“Well you sound stupid.”

Y/N laughs, “Whose idea was it to have kids again?”

“I don’t think either of them were planned.” Eddie chuckles.

Y/N laughs, and wraps her arms around his neck, pulling him close. Eddie’s arms wrapped around her waist pulling her close to him. Their lips only centimetres apart. Moments like this were few and far between, the two constantly being interrupted by one of their children.

“You know what?” Eddie says.

“What?” Y/N asks.

“I feel a lot better now that I’ve gotten everything off my chest.” Eddie says, “I don’t need to hide anything anymore, it’s all going to be public knowledge soon.”

“Me too,” Y/N sighed, “We will hopefully stop getting asked about it in interviews soon.”

“Or maybe it’ll increase,” Eddie says.

“Don’t even joke about that, Mr Roundtree.” Y/N says.

“Whatever you say Mrs Roundtree.”

Y/N smiled, despite being married for over a decade, hearing her name always brought a smile to her face. Y/N pressed a kiss to Eddie’s lips and her fingers tangled in his hair. Eddie’s hands held firmly onto her hips, pressing her body fully against his. Their lips moved in sync with each other as Y/N sighed happily. Eddie smiled against Y/N’s lips.

“Mom!” A voice sounded throughout the house, “Tell August to stop being mean to me.”

Y/N and Eddie broke apart and sighed, “You know one of these days we will be able to finish something without getting interrupted.”

“Probably when they are both at college, but knowing them two, they’ll still find a way to interrupt,” Y/N jokes, “I’ll see what they want and you order pizza?”

“Sounds perfect.” Eddie says, pecking her lips.

“Mom!” Dahlia shouted.

Y/N sighed, “Coming!”

Y/N stepped away from Eddie and walked to the living room door not before turning around and blowing him a kiss, “I love you, Eddie Roundtree.”

“I love you too, Y/N L/N, more than you could ever know.”

Y/N smirked, “I think I know by now.”

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#eddie roundtree x reader #eddie roundtree #eddie loving x reader #eddie loving #daisy jones and the six x reader #daisy jones and the six #josh whitehouse

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haveyouseenthisskeleton · 5 months

Note

Skeleton is watching some TV shows about aliens when suddenly a random spaceship crashes in his backyard.

Undertale Sans - He comes out of the house eating pop corn, just watching as twenty aliens or so are making their way out of the spaceship. That's way more realistic than the TV. Finally good entertainment. He's taking pictures and then just... join the group of aliens and follow them around. They are so confused what he wants, but after a while they're just ignoring him, accepting some kind of weird skeleton adopted them or something. It gets even weirder when Sans befriends them and brings his 20 new alien friends to Toriel's space to have dinner and talk randomly about alien citizenship. Toriel scowls him and tells him he can't bring to her all the stray aliens he found outside. That's definitely happened before.

Undertale Papyrus - He rolls his nonexistant eyes and turns towards Sans windows. "YOUR STUPID PRANKS ARE GETTING OLD SANS! GET YOUR BUTT HERE AND CLEAN YOUR SCI-FI THINGY MESS THIS INSTANT!" Then Toriel calls him telling Sans is spending the evening with her. Uh. He gets even more angry. "ARE YOU PRANKING ME THROUGH TIME AGAIN SANS? STOP HIDING BEHIND GOAT MOTHER TO COVER YOUR MESS THIS INSTANT". He stays the fingers raised high in the sky, without an answer. URGH. He has to do EVERYTHING in this house! Sans is so confused when Papyrus waits for him behind the door and starts lecturing him about how his spaceship ruined his lawn.

Underswap Sans - OMG! He calls Alphys to see this and the two idiots they are gets so excited they repair it to make it functional again! Honey will have the surprise of his life when after two hours Blue calls him on his phone to tell him he will be late for dinner because he's stuck in space with Alphys. Honey doesn't even want to know.

Underswap Papyrus - The crash scared him so much he passed out. When he wakes up, he has his ankles and wrists tied, in his own kitchen, while aliens are emptying his fridge and analyzing random objects in his house. ... Yeah, he decides to pass out again to save himself.

Underfell Sans - Aliens or not they just ruined Edge's lawn and he's so pissed because Edge forced him to mow all afternoon and now Edge will get pissed and it's not even his fault! He's getting out of the house Karen mode to scream at the aliens to get their damn spaceship out of there or he's going to call the cops! The aliens are just blinking at him, confused what's even going on.

Underfell Papyrus - This is weird, and he doesn't like it. He's in front of his door, two bones in hands, growling like an enraged animal at whatever is coming out of the weird ship. None of these things is entering his home. He doesn't like it. The alien don't listen though, and they are way bigger than him. Desperate times, desperate measures. He opens the door to Doomfanger. His cat will destroy the hell out of them until they go back in their ship and leave in terror and confusion. Edge is going to serve her an entire salmon for dinner tonight.

Horrortale Sans - That spooked him bad, and he doesn't want to go see. But the cows are still outside and he's not letting aliens steal his cows. He runs outside on all four, picks the cows and runs back home with them. Willow is not pleased to find all the cows inside the house. He's not pleased either when Oak explains that's because of the aliens in the garden. Willow goes to see, and obviously, the aliens are gone. Oak is mad he doesn't believe him.

Horrortale Papyrus - The aliens can't walk two steps out of their ship before an angry Willow comes out of the house. "HOW DARE YOU CRASH IN MY CHICKEN PEN! LOOK AT THE MESS YOU DONE, ALL THE CHICKEN ARE OUT! YOU HAVE FIVE MINUTES TO FIX EVERYTHING OR I'LL MAKE SURE THAT THING WON'T EVER FLY AGAIN!" The aliens laugh nervously at him. Willow picks the spaceship with one hand and smashes it in two on the floor. Don't mess with his farm or eat shit.

Swapfell Sans and Papyrus - Nox is screaming in terror, running around the house to block the door and the windows. Rus is on the couch, looking at him in disbelief. Nox assures him he won't let damn aliens lay eggs in his stomach! No alien is entering the house. Rus isn't sure how to tell him the back door is open and that's like the fifth time he's passed in front of three very confused aliens who are kinda scared of him. Hum. Maybe it's not important. His reaction is going to be priceless enough when he'll notice. He wonders if he has enough time to grab popcorn.

Fellswap Gold Sans - Urgh. He's so annoyed about this. It's way too late for an alien invasion. He opens the window, screams the alien better not make noise before tomorrow morning when he will come to kick their asses. He then closes the door again and goes to sleep. Surprisingly, the aliens obey????

Fellswap Gold Papyrus - Hum. That looks scary. He's going back into his room and locks in his closet. That's a problem for his future self lol. Right now, he doesn't want to deal with that.

#undertale #underswap #underfell #horrortale #swapfell #fellswap gold #sans #papyrus #undertale ask blog #undertale asks #undertale imagines #undertale headcanons

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sherifftillman · 2 years

Text

busy streets and busy lives • ralph penbury x reader

A strange day at work gets even stranger when you meet a man who claims he's from 1926. With no certainty as to when he can get back, you decide to take him in until that time arrives.

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Tags: Timewasters (series), modern!au, slow burn, mutual pining, idiots in love™, fluff, some angst, swearing and mentions of adult themes throughout, eventual adult content, alcohol content, penbury is a fanon surname

Word count: 4.2k

A/N: Aaaaaand THIS is where the real good stuff starts! Sorry for all the other posts, just had to start getting the ball rolling. I am aware that since this is taking place in modern London, there may well be slang used that people don't necessarily recognise. If you'd like me to make a glossary of some kind, hit me up!! I hope you enjoy Ralph In The Future as much as I do <3

"Bet it feels strange being behind here again, doesn't it?" the customer asks you. It's an older woman, you don't particularly recognise her, but she certainly seems to know you well enough to know you've been promoted since you first started working here.

You force a smile, "Not really! Sometimes the floor just needs an extra pair of hands, and it helps me know what's working and what isn't for my staff and my customers, so," you shrug.

"Yeah, I don't envy you, still working at a time when nobody wants to work," she shakes her head.

You press your lips together tightly. There are so many arguments you could make right now, but already trying to juggle two roles is taxing enough. Instead you simply tell the woman her total and ring her through. Once again adorning your best customer service smile, you thank her for her custom and send her on her way.

"D'you think she's ever worked a customer service job in her life?" Your shop floor assistant asks as they re-fold their display shirts.

You shake your head, "I think… Cushty little secretary job at her dad's business, at first. Never had to pay rent, got married to the first guy at that job to pay her attention, got a council house nice and early and spawned a couple of kids just to stop him from walking."

They let out a wide-eyed, long-drawn breath, "Daaamn, someone woke up on the salty side of the bed this morning!"

You chuckle humourlessly, "That doesn't even make sense. And yeah, sorry, it just… Really sucks that I've got major shit to do this week, but I can't just let you do all the work out here on your own, not with Karens like that around."

"Can't you get your friend to come down and cover? Or to do your manager shit on their next shift?"

"Nah, it's gotta be me. And they can't come in today because of their other job, so I'm gonna do it as overtime," you explain dejectedly.

"You're doing great, champ!" they sidle up to you to gently punch you in the shoulder encouragingly.

"Hey now, kiddo, I'm the manager here, I need to be motivating you!"

"Nah, you're sales right now. You're just as good as the rest of us common muck," they tease, and you stick your tongue out at them.

The day drags, and the quality of customers certainly doesn’t improve. A man who thinks he can return an item without a receipt. A woman who insists on ordering an item that’s no longer available because she saw a friend wearing it just last week. Children.

And sure, maybe now, at 5:40pm, the customer of your dreams could walk in through the front door. But you and your coworker are exhausted, and this is the kind of shit you always wanted to become a manager to do. Taking one last look up and down the almost empty high street, save for the ones who are heading to the Wetherspoons on the corner, you decide to start the closing process early.

You manage to finish a little after 6pm, and you consider just getting all of your admin stuff done while you’re here, but also, you really can’t stand the sight of these four walls much longer. You figure you’ll just go to the coffee shop nearby, get yourself an iced latte for the walk home and think about what kind of takeaway you’ll be craving once you get back to your flat. No cooking. Not tonight.

You’re well into a mental debate about whether you’d rather have a chow mein or a biryani when something else piques your interest. There’s a man in front of you in some kind of costume. It’s either really old-school military, or… Safari explorer. Maybe he’s one of those live re-enactors. Maybe he works at the zoo. Maybe he’s just one of those quirked-up little guys. You get your phone out to text your friends, ready to ask them if they’ve seen anyone dressed similarly before, but as you continue walking you collide with something.

Someone. Your flimsy plastic cup gets crushed immediately upon the impact, pouring ice cold coffee down the strangely-dressed man’s back. Your first instinct is to shout, “Watch it!”

The man jumps out of his skin, either at your words or the ice cubes soaking his back. He spins around to look at you like a deer in headlights. Eyes like giant chocolate buttons stare you down. If he’s supposed to be dressed as an Army boy, he does not have the face to convince me, you think. Unless the message they’re sending is that literally anyone could get drafted.

“You alright?” you ask, eyes narrowing and head cocking as you study him.

“Ah - um - oh, I’m sorry! I’m so sorry! This was absolutely my fault, I’m just - I’m so lost, and I was trying to find a man and now he’s gone and - oh, blast, stupid Ralph, you’ve really gone and done it now!” the man flusters, looking in every direction except at you.

You whistle and click your fingers at his eye level. “Hey, Bambi! Focus. It’s okay.”

He moves his head back to scrunch his face at you in confusion. “Bambi?”

You smirk, “Yeah, you’re like a baby deer right now. You said you’re lost? Where’re you trying to get to?”

“Uh, well, I suppose I should try and find my home, um… Penbury House?” he asks tentatively.

You kiss your teeth a few times as you think of where you’ve heard that name before. “Oh!” You look at him, puzzled. “You sure that’s your house?”

“Well, my name is Ralph Penbury, so…” he wiggles his shoulders from side to side before shrugging. You appreciate the extra flair.

“Right, but Penbury House is the name of the place they turned into a Waterstone’s,” you explain. He looks lost again, so you explain, “Waterstone’s is a bookstore.”

Ralph scoffs, “Oh, pish-posh, my home has not become a bookstore! That would be quite preposterous!”

So far your entire interaction with this strange man has been a tennis match of bewilderment, just exchanging expressions back and forth. “Are you, like… On something, mate? Do you need me to get you somewhere safe?”

“I want to go home, please! And not a… Bookstore, my real, actual home!” He’s starting to sound quite overwhelmed now, so you take a step back.

“Okay, okay. It’s okay. We can calm down. You mentioned looking for a man? Do you know this man?”

“Well, not personally, but I travelled here with him. About yea tall,” he holds his hand just in line with his eyebrows, “very old. Silent man. Hair just past his ears. Looks, um. Unwashed.”

Your eyebrows raise in realisation. “Ah, Homeless Pete!” Makes sense that Pete and his crew would be involved somehow. “Shall we go and find him?”

“Do you know where he is?!” Ralph asks, his expression lighting up. He may be dressed like an absolute twat, but you can’t deny his adorable little puppy-dog face.

“I know where he hangs out, we can go see if he’s there?” you ask, and Ralph nods. “C’mon,” you jerk your head in the direction towards where you know Homeless Pete tends to hang out when he’s not walking the streets. You wonder what ol’ H.P. (as your friends call him) could have given his poor boy to make him trip like this. “So, uh, quick question. Sorry, I completely forgot. What’s the full date today?”

“Well, the last I checked, it was September the 7th, 1926,” he replies simply. You stop in your tracks, and he looks back at you with a frown. “What’s the matter?”

“N-nothing, nothing,” you shake your head and carry on walking. This poor boy must be on something pretty damn strong. “Let’s get you to H.P, yeah?” Just to find out what he’s taken. Then it’s straight to the hospital.

Ralph inhales so loudly that a guttural sound forms in his throat. “Oh my goodness! Do you think - am I in - the future?” He grips your arm tightly. “Was the lift a time machine, perhaps?”

“Maybe,” you tap his hand lightly with your own as you keep walking with him, "considering that it's September the 7th, 2022." Normally, you would be throwing any stranger that hugged your arm like Ralph now is to the ground, but there’s just something about him. Either he plays the innocent human puppy role far better than any indie boy that’s ever tried to hit on you on a night out, or he really is just going through it.

You eventually reach the underpass where a large part of the local homeless population gather, and sure enough, there is Pete himself, sat between two shopping trolleys. He spots the two of you and immediately bursts into laughter. “What the fuck, H.P?!” you yell. “You’re usually chill, what have you done to this poor boy?!”

“‘M not a boy, I’m a grown man, thank you,” Ralph mutters into your shoulder.

“‘Course you are, babe,” you murmur sarcastically as you nod at him, before once again turning to Pete. “Well?! You’ve got him talking about - about time machines, and the 1920s, I mean, just look at how the poor sod’s dressed!” Pete’s eyes widen as he waggles his finger at you, as though you’re both in a game of charades and you’re on the right track. You turn to one of the people Pete lives amongst, “What’s he been on today?”

The other person shakes their head. “Nothing, swear down! Besides, he’s a proper tight-arse, he wouldn’t go ‘round drugging any fucker going. ‘Specially not a toff like that,” they snort with laughter as they point to Ralph.

You look back to Homeless Pete. “So, you’re telling me. Time travel is fucking real.” Pete nods. “And you were in 1926, and you dragged this sad sack of shit out here with you, with no context.”

“You know I can hear you,” Ralph points out indignantly, but still quietly and still from the safety of behind your shoulder. His arms are still wrapped around yours, too.

“Yeah, but look at you, mate. You’re not exactly getting us answers as to how to get you back to… Wherever we get you back to,” you explain before once again turning to Pete. “Where is this… Time machine? Ralph said something about a lift.” Pete snarls as he gestures over to a block of flats you vaguely recognise. “So we go there, get him back in the lift, and then what? Is there a button, or a combination, or -?” Pete moves his hand from side to side. “And what does that mean, is it a random button each time?” Again, it feels like you’re in a game of charades as he silently tells you you’re on the right track. “Is the random part right?” Nod. “So, it’s not about the button, but… The floor you get on?” A shake of the head. “Is it just at random times?” Nod. “So, how do you know when to go back to it?” He shrugs, then points to his temple. “What, you get some kind of vibe, some Spidey sense?” He nods with an upside down smile. You sigh. “So we don’t know when Ralph here can get back.” A shake of the head.

“Do I have to stay here with him, then?” Ralph asks you sadly.

You sigh again. “No, c’mon. I guess you won’t want Chinese or Indian, we’ll just get a chippy dinner on the way home.” You start walking in the other direction, and Ralph quickly paces to catch up with you.

“A chippy dinner?” he asks, baffled.

“Yeah! Like fish and chips? They had that in the 20s, surely?” you reply.

“Well, yes, I suppose, but we only ever had it at the seaside,” he cocks his head as though reminiscing fondly. It only accentuates the cuteness of his whole face.

“Think you can be a big boy again now, or do you still wanna hold on?” you ask, outstretching your arm. He doesn’t appear to blush in the conventional sense, but his ears do flush a bright pink. Even more adorable. Fuck. Remember, he’s technically like a hundred years older than you. He slinks one arm around yours and you pull him in tightly by pressing your own arms towards your torso. “There we go. Now I can make sure I’m guiding you so that hopefully you don’t get bumped into anymore.”

“I think I’ve certainly learned my lesson in not standing still in front of people!” Ralph jokes, making you genuinely laugh for the first time all day. It feels strange, you can feel every muscle in your face move with it. But you also feel the weight on your chest lifting, too. You’d been at boiling point all day at work, and discovering a time-traveller wasn’t exactly helping you to simmer down. But you can make this work. He’s just an… Eccentric, extremely sheltered family friend who’s staying with you for a short while. That’s what you’ll tell anyone who asks.

“Yeah, you’ve learned that if you do, some dickhead’ll throw their iced coffee all over your back!” you laugh.

Ralph frowns, “You’re not a - a one of those, at all! You’re very nice to take me in like this. Most people seemed to think I belonged in a jungle.”

“Yeah, the old school military uniform kinda looks more… Safari explorer, these days,” you explain.

Ralph’s eyes light up. “Someone finally recognises the Army uniform for what it is!”

“Yeah, I thought I recognised it from when we went to the War Museum for school once. That was the kind of get-up they used to wear in the First World War.” You trip over your own feet a little as Ralph once again halts to anchor you to him, despite what he’s just said. He looks… Distraught. “Alright, mate?”

“Why did you say… First World War?" He asks with fear in his voice. "We won the Great War to restore the - the balance of power, how long did that last?!” He looks at you, dumbfounded.

You hiss air through your teeth. “Oh, boy. Yeah, there’s a lot that’s happened in the last century. I don’t know if it’s such a good idea telling you all of it, since once you get back, it’ll be your future, so…” You contemplate. “We’ll just keep all the questions you have to stuff you’ll need to get by in the here and now, alright? Anything you learn about history, just try and let it go over your head,” you pull him forwards gently and he falls back into step with you.

“One question I have about the here and now,” Ralph starts, and you look over at him. He makes eye contact with you to ask, “What exactly is your name?”

Laughing again, you tell him. “Sorry, I really should have led with that, shouldn’t I! It’s been a long day."

“I’ll say. About a hundred-odd years long!” A giggle bubbles out from Ralph’s lips and it makes you snicker, too.

“You’re a funny one, Penbury. For an old sod, at least,” you push your shoulder into his before leading him into the chip shop. “So, are you a fish guy, sausage, fishcake, pie?”

Ralph looks at all the options in the serving counter with an upturned nose. “What’s that one?” he asks, pressing his finger against the glass.

You look over and answer, “Battered sausage. Sausage, but in the batter they cook the fish in. Bloody lovely,” you smile wistfully.

“I might just stick to the classic cod and chips, thank you,” Ralph mutters under his breath as he stares around the small room in fascination. You order on behalf of the pair of you and take the bag from the server with a grateful smile. Ralph notices and plasters one on as well, though his definitely comes off as more fake. He basically attaches himself to your arm again the second you’re out of the door, as though you’re bound together magnetically, and you guide him to the tower block that contains your pokey little flat.

After spending several minutes convincing Ralph that the lift isn’t going to suck him into another time period, and that he’s more than welcome to traipse up all the stairs that lead to the ninth floor, he relents and stands in the lift with you, though he stands so close that you’d think his goal was for you to wear him. Brushing against his chest feels nice, though. Shut up, you’re just touch-starved. This is not your ticket out of your dry spell. This is a fever dream.

Once you’re in your flat, you quickly dig out whatever men's clothes you have laying around - some sweatpants and a white T-shirt, and you throw them at him. "Just to get out of your dirty clothes while I plate up, eat before this gets cold, then you can go shower. I'm sure there's some boxers in my pyjama drawer you could use, too, I'll find those for you in a bit." You point to your bathroom and he quietly complies.

You could've just eaten the meals straight from their wrapper, the way you always do. But you figured Ralph has had enough culture shocks as it is, you'll give him the decency of eating from a plate. Besides, spending your night with a man dressed in 1920s army gear who's eating fish and chips out of some paper on his lap might just be enough of a sight to tell you to get yourself checked into the psych ward at the earliest convenience. At least you can try and create some kind of normalcy in this moment.

A quick Google search tells you television wasn't around in 1926, so you don't want to expose him to that tonight, too. Give it a day, maybe. You could play some old-time-y music on your Echo but you're not sure what he'd want to listen to. Instead, once you're both sat on the sofa together, you make conversation with him about his past as you eat. He tells you about how the Penburys were known socialites, how he and his sister had pretty much the same group of friends, how they had recently found friends in a rather special group of people, one of which he'd fallen head over heels for, just for her to reject him, and his heartbreak caused him to join the Army, which he hated.

"It's rather funny, you know," Ralph adds. "People here talk very similarly to Lauren and the others. I wonder if they exist in this time, too."

You start piecing things together. "Lauren… Plays jazz… She the drummer in this little quartet?" Ralph nods, his eyes wide. "Kinda short, has a brother called Nick?"

"Nicholas, yes! He's tall and he wears thick glasses! You know them?!" Ralph asks excitedly.

"Yeah, Nick was in my class all through high school! Always used to fancy him," you reminisce happily before stifling a laugh. "Wait, wait. So you mean to tell me that this Lauren you're besotted with is - is Little Lauren? Oh, you poor, sweet boy."

He looks offended. "Why would you think that that’s such a bad thing?!"

"Mate, I've known you five minutes and even I know Lauren would chew you up and spit you out," you look at him sympathetically. "And you're not gonna be able to change her on that. Unless you're into all that kinda stuff," your nose turns up a little as you joke, just to get a reaction from him.

Sure enough, there go the illusive colour-changing ears. He sputters, "W- I - I don’- I’m no- That is no appropriate discussion topic over dinner!” and you collapse into a fit of giggles, falling into him a little.

“Oh, lighten up, Ralph. Things are far less proper round here, that was nothing,” you explain, to his horror.

Once you’re both finished eating, you grab a clean pair of boxers from your pyjama drawer and toss them into the bathroom, gesturing to Ralph with your head that that’s where he ought to go. “Sorry you’re gonna have to use your finger as a toothbrush tonight, I’ve not got any extras of those, but -”

“Oh, all of this is already above and beyond! Even taking me in, I - I hope you understand how truly grateful I am, and with your patience acclimating me to… All this,” Ralph gestures around with his hands.

You nod with a soft smile. “Uh, give the shower a few minutes to run, though. Goes from freezing to scalding and then you’ve just sort of gotta… Keep fiddling with it. You’ll figure it out, I’m sure.”

The various screeches you hear from behind the closed door suggest that he is not as successful in figuring out the shower as you’d hoped. While he showers, you do a little more digging. Thankful that your mum’s weird obsession with your family tree may finally come in handy, you ask for the login to her online ancestry account. Tapping through to the census search, you type the name ralph penbury and set the dates between around 1890 and 1930 to look for any documentations of birth - or death. Sure enough, an entry pops up:

Ralph Penbury - Date of birth: 01/02/1901 - Parents: William and Delilah Penbury - Occupation: Private in the Armed Forces - Death: Announced 19/09/1926 - MIA, presumed dead

You frown at the result. Was Ralph always doomed to go missing in action, you wonder? Is he only presumed as such because he’s travelled through time? His existence hasn’t been completely erased by the trip, obviously, but how much of this was affected by it? It hurts your head to try and think about. But at least you know when his birthday is. It’s still a few months away by all accounts, you may not even get to celebrate it with him. You still make a note of it in your phone.

Ralph soon emerges from the bathroom, and the sight causes your breath to catch in the back of your throat. He already had a certain cuteness about him, but as he rubs his hair dry with the towel, his damp natural curls stick out in all directions. Some facial hair and a neck chain or two, and he’d be exactly the kind of guy you’d let break your heart in a smoking area. He studies your face carefully as you’re staring at him. “Is there something wrong?”

“No!” you snap yourself out of your trance quickly. “No, not at all. Um, you can - you can take the bed. If you want. Get a good night’s sleep.”

Ralph gasps in horror, “I could never! I am simply a guest, I must insis-”

“And I must insist that you’ve literally travelled almost a hundred years to be here. Who knows when you’re gonna be here until, so… I don’t mind. I can sleep on the sofa for now, I promise,” you smile. “Just let me get in there real quick to get changed myself too, yeah?” Despite still standing in the bathroom doorway, and therefore not in the way of your bedroom, Ralph still steps aside and gestures towards it for you.

You change into a tank top and trousers combo, grab a blanket and some cushions out from your wardrobe, and head back into the living area. “Are you decent?” Ralph asks, his eyes squeezed.

You laugh, “Down, boy, I wasn’t exactly going to come out in my birthday suit, was I?! Yes, I am, you can look.”

He opens his eyes, takes one look at you, and yelps before covering his face with his hands. “You said you were decent!”

You look down at yourself, confused. Sure, the top is well-fitting, but you don’t think it’s indecent at all. You walk over to him and pull his wrists down. His eyes are once again shut tightly. “Ralph. It’s okay. I promise. Again, this is absolutely fine and modest in these times. Unless you want to stick out like a sore thumb, you’ll have to get used to it,” you shrug, letting go of him. He opens his eyes slowly and his breath shudders as he quickly jolts away.

“Okay, very well. I’ll try my hardest,” he nods, though he seems to be making the effort to keep his jaw up to maintain a high eyeline. “Are you sure you’ll be okay sleeping out here?”

You sigh, repeating once again, “Yes, Ralph, I’ll be fine. Go get some rest. You’ve had a big day.”

“Yes, very well. Erm,” he ducks his head down and to the side for a split second, as though to kiss your cheek, before stopping himself and once again raising his head high, his eyes wide and his ears pink. He clears his throat. “Thank you, again. Good night.”

“G’night, mate. Sleep well,” you pat his arm and start setting up the sofa for the night as he enters your bedroom and closes the door behind him.

You stick the TV on, not really caring what’s playing as it only really serves as background noise, and turn your lights off. The glows of the television screen and your phone screen illuminate the room as you search for any other evidence of time travel. Nothing that matched Ralph’s story comes up. You’re somewhere deep into a conspiracy theory about someone with a mobile phone being spotted at a Charlie Chaplin premiere when you finally drift off to sleep.

next chapter

#ralph timewasters #ralph timewasters x reader #ralph timewasters x you #ralph timewasters fanfic #ralph timewasters imagine #ralph penbury #ralph penbury x reader #ralph penbury x you #ralph penbury fanfic #ralph penbury imagine #ralph timewasters fluff #ralph penbury fluff #bsbl #fic: bsbl #*myfics

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gxbbyhoneybadger · 1 year

Text

Richer than Gold

Pairing: !HH!Arthur Morgan x !F!Reader

Summary: Dutch has done it again, finding the jackpot for more money. He tells his gang about a rich man who spoils and loves his only child, hatching the perfect plan to kidnap the child for ransom. He sent his best men out to catch the victim, but what they got in return was something Arthur did not expect to meet, or better yet, fall for. But no one knew yet, just how dark the truth was behind the perfect dollhouse.

Warnings: adult language, guns, angst, tension, over-controlling parents, deception, abuse if you squint, forced arranged marriage, mutual pining, flirting.

This was just a drabble I thought of after I watched one of my favorite Pixar movies (Brave), I also added a twist to it, this was a winner at the polls!

The picture was edited by me.

Part 2, Part 3

Minors DNI 🔞 18 below the cut

Dutch had called everyone over, Tilly, Susan, Bill, Sean, Micah, Javier, Charles, John, Sadie, Mary-Beth, Molly, Lenny, Karen, Abigail, and the rest. Arthur approached after getting off his horse and listened to what Dutch was saying. "I've got a plan, this'll be our biggest and greatest heist there'll ever be!" Dutch said with a sly grin, "Just over in Saint Denis, a man named Richardson Jones, has just paid a visit to one of his many homes. And what's better than that! He has decided to bring along his greatest possession."

"Money?" Karen suggested. "Nope, his own youth." Dutch said. "A kid?" Bill chuckled. "Now, I know it sounds rather odd, but trust me when I tell you this. His child is his only weak spot, he'd do anything for his young'un to be happy! Spoiled to no end! We get our hands on his child and take it, he'll give us whatever we want! And trust me, Richardson is Richer than Gold itself." Dutch said.

"You want us to kidnap a child for ransom?" John questioned. "You won't even have to force the kid to follow, just use some damn candy." Micah snickered. John rolled his eyes as Jack wandered up to his mom's legs. "Arthur, John, Bill, Javier, Charles, Hosea, and I will leave to find Richardson's heir and bring it here for a day or two, afterwards, we get the money and book it to Tahiti!" Dutch said.

"But a child, Dutch?" Arthur finally said. "Yes, Arthur, a kid. It ain't going to be so terrible, we're not gonna hurt 'em." Hosea rubbed the back of his head as he listened, "It'll be a quick babysitting gig before we return the child, right, Dutch?" Charles questioned. "Yes, my boy." Dutch confirmed.

"He should be arriving pretty soon, we needa go and find out what our target'll look like. C'mon!" Micah yelled as he ran to his horse.

~~~

John, Arthur, Charles, and Javier, were set on catching the child as Dutch, Hosea, and Bill were gonna distract Richardson and his friends. "So he's the one richer than gold?" Javier asked as he looked through the binoculars at a handsome wealthy dressed man with a trimmed beard and silver eyes. The four men were hiding near the building which was close to the docks where the ship had been stationary for a while.

"Guess so." Charles said before looking himself. "You got candy, right?" John whispered to Arthur. "I got the damn candy, now I owe Jack." Arthur muttered. "Look! Look! Someone's coming out!" Javier warned the men. Richardson was speaking to a well dressed Dutch and Hosea.

"Gentleman, please meet my beautiful daughter, Y/n Jones L/n, she has her mother's last name." Richardson introduced as he raised his arm to point to a beautiful lady walking down the plank set on the dock. She had to be in her youthful years, beautiful jewelry, gorgeous dress, her hair done up in a stunning braid.

"Oh shit." Bill muttered, "I don't think he has a child, that has to be his wife."

"Hello, Gentlemen. It's an honor to meet my father's dearest companions." She smiled while bowing her head out of respect. Arthur held his face with on hand as he tried to contemplate a different way to get the girl. "Dammit, what are we gonna do now?" Javier asked. "Y'all keep an eye on her, I'll run to Dutch and Hosea, see what they think and I'll come back to you. Follow her." Bill said before running off.

John and Javier made their way towards an alley in the town while Arthur made his way closer to the docks to listen in on any conversation. "Oh. . . My." Hosea muttered when he and Dutch saw the young girl. "Mr. Matthews." Y/n smiled as she shook his hand, "Pleasure to meet you."

Arthur shook his head as he started to watch the girl, making sure she didn't take off. "Y/N!" A woman screamed as she ran towards her with excitement, holding her dress so she didn't fall and into Y/n's open embrace. "It's been so long!" The woman with red hair said.

"It has indeed, Kimberly! My goodness, look at you!" Y/n gasped as Kimberly spun around to show off her new purple dress. "It's beautiful, ain't it? Just got it yesterday from my daddy!", "Kimberly, my girl, you've grown up!" Richardson greeted as he hugged her. "I have, indeed, Mr!"

The two girls walked towards a small shop and sat down by a table, Arthur had quietly and discreetly made his way towards the corner and hid behind it to listen to the girls. "So! How old are ya, now?" Kimberly asked Y/n. "Can't you guess?", "Twenty-one!", "Nuh uh!", "Twenty-two?", "No.", "I don't know!"

Y/n let out a sigh and shook her head, "I'm twenty-four, Kim. It's only been five years since we last saw each other!" Y/n giggled, "It's strange to be here again, I forgot if it was nice here in Saint Denis?"

"Oh, absolutely! Except for the random robberies and such." Kimberly sighed. ". . . Robberies?" Y/n muttered with am inquisitive tone. Arthur rolled his eyes, already knowing what was going to come. The spoiled daddy's girl was about to complain and whine about the dirty old outlaws who take what they want.

"Where they really outlaws?!" Y/n gasped. Kimberly scoffed and crossed her arms, "I forgot you're a total freak when outlaws come up in a conversation. You don't even act like a lady!" Y/n laughed and pulled off her white gloves, "You know I hate wearing these dumb dresses, wearing this annoyin' heels, having my hair done in this tight and uncomfortable way! I despise it, Kimberly!" She whined.

That's a new one. Thought Arthur as he listened, Kimberly giggled and held Y/n's hands. "Thinking about sneakin' out tonight with me?" Kimberly asked. Y/n gasped and shook her head, "My daddy'll kill me!" Kimberly snickered and slapped Y/n's hand. "Ow-!", "Like you cared if he did. All you gotta do is cry and say that it was a mistake, then he'll just let you go as always. C'mon, I know you wanna. Maybe finally you'll find a man."

Y/n groaned and stood, "C'mon, my daddy already told me where our manor is. Let's go and have some fun before I roll my eyes outta my own skull." Arthur watched where they went and followed along. Soon, he and the two other men found Y/n at the large manor. This time she was wearing an entirely different attire.

She wore jeans with a button up red shirt, a cowgirl hat with some boots and a belt, her hair was down and hung beautifully down her back, and she was riding a large Shire Horse. All black with white cuffs around it's hooves and shins, it's mane was a beautiful raven color that shined off the sun. Y/n looked so small compared to the beast she was on top of. "Oh my goodness! Y/n's he's a big monster!" Kimberly gasped, still wearing her blue dress.

"He ain't no monster. He's big but really he's a big soft boy, ain't you Buckley!" Y/n cooed as she brushed Buckley's mane, his tail swished as he huffed out a thank you. "He likes it when you compliment him! Ugh! I've been waiting to get somewhere big and open for him to run in!" Y/n laughed.

"That a horse or a giant?" Javier asked with wide eyes. "My momma got 'em for me when I was just nine years old! Big boy here was still just a colt!" Y/n smiled as she clicked her tongue, Buckley's ears twitched before he started to walk forward slowly, each step he took, Y/n slightly bounced. "He's beautiful, ain't he?" She asked her friend. "A-Absolutely!", "Mother knows best! I've always wanted a horse and she got me the biggest one, daddy always said I'd never be able to handle one, but look at me now. She'd be proud. . ." Her smile faded as she held onto Buckley's reins.

"What's wrong, Y/n?" Kimberly asked. Y/n covered her eyes with one hand as she started to tear up. "Y/n!", "No, no. . . It's just my mother. . . I miss her. . . Ever since my uncle and my mother's death, daddy has been so different. . . He seems more cold to me, not in front of guests like you of course, but. . . With me, it's like he doesn't care. He sends me to all these classes, fencing, Spanish, French, Dutch, Italian and more but. . . He's never there for me, y'know. He doesn't like it when I take Buckley out, or even wear clothes like this. . . My mother always supported me, and so did Daddy, until she. . ." Y/n let out a stuttering sigh as she relaxed.

"Buckley and my bow are the only things my mother left me before she was taken away. . ." She whispered.

". . . Wait here." Kimberly said before running into the manor and coming out ten minutes later, dressed in a skirt and a shirt before jumping onto her own horse, a brown Thoroughbred with a black mane. "Kimberly!" Y/n said with a small smile. "I wanna see those talents put to work, here!" She said before tossing Y/n her signature bow and a quiver of arrows. She attached the quiver to her saddle and held onto her bow, "You really wanna see?" Y/n giggled while cleaning her tears.

"Course I do, I may be a Lady. But I always wanna see a good time." Kimberly smiled.

The girls laughed before their horses took off running down the large land of grass and towards the trees. "Keep an eye on them both." Javier warned the two before sneaking off to spy on any incoming guests. Arthur and John both found their horses and began to trail after the girls.

That was when the men saw the hidden talent that Y/n was hiding. Buckley ran and jumped over a fallen tree—Y/n had her bowstring pulled back before she released an arrow straight into an apple hanging from a tree. Buckley landed and kept running as Y/n reloaded another shot, she whistled and a flock of birds flew from the trees before she shot two with one arrow.

Buckley was quicker than the men's horses as he continued to pick up his speed. Kimberly was smiling at Y/n's joy as she leapt through the air with Buckley. Her hair flowed as she rode on through the woods, "Throw something!" Y/n shouted to Kimberly. Kim grabbed her old hat and threw it in the air, no longer than two seconds had passed before it was nailed straight into a tree by a sudden arrow.

"You're amazing at this Y/n!" Kimberly laughed. "Thank my momma!" Y/n smiled.

The men remained hidden til the girls rode him. They stayed hiding when a carriage came, carrying Richardson, another man and a woman, Dutch, Hosea, and even Bill who looked more cleaned up. "Gentlemen, let me bring you into our lovely home for a drink!" Y/n and Kimberly saw their parents exit the carriages.

"Oh no." Kimberly muttered before looking at Y/n, "Your dad doesn't like you wearing those clothes, don't he?" Kimberly whispered. ". . . No, no, he doesn't." Y/n hopped off Buckley and tapped his rear, "Go to the barn, boy. Put this back where you found it please, Kim?", "Okay. . ." She whispered.

She approached her father and looked at the men who finally saw her without the beautiful jewelry or the dazzling feminity she once carried in the morning. When Richard laid his eyes on his daughter, he practically gasped. "What do you think you're wearing?" He questioned her. "Daddy, don't get mad. It's just clothing-", "Excuse us, gentlemen, Antonio, please escort these men to the manor. Apparently, I must have a talk with my daughter about mannerisms and proper attire for a young lady." Richardson held her back before leading her to the side of the manor.

Arthur watched and listened nearby as Richard sighed and pinched the bridge of his nose. "What did I say to you the moment we got on that ship?" Richardson asked her. "Daddy, I-", "Don't you "daddy" me, young lady! You are not to be wearing such demeaning outfits such as this! You look like a street rat or worse, one of them outlaws! I send you to the best of schools, just like you need, I get you your own personal trainer in fencing, a degree, money, everything a woman would want!" He said.

"B-But daddy, I don't want-", "Enough!"

"I am not going to kid around with this. Get those clothes off and put on a proper dress. You look ridiculous. I shouldn't have let you keep that damn horse, he's the reason why you're acting up like this." He snarled to her, she grew tears as she looked down at the ground in shame. Arthur felt sorry for the girl, her fists were clenched as she steadied her breathing.

"I ain't a little girl no more, daddy." She whispered. "What?" Richard scoffed. "You can't control me and tell me what I want or need anymore." Richardson laughed and brushed his hair back. "You ain't gonna leave any time soon. I'm selling Buckley-"

"Daddy!"

"I don't want that damn horse around anymore. Your witch of a mother bought that thing in spite of me." He growled. "Buckley didn't do nothing to deserve this! Mother got him for me as a gift-!" Arthur's eyes grew big when Richard slapped her. His hand slowly snaking down towards his holster as he glared at the rich man

"I am your damn father. If I say I'm going to sell a damn horse, I'm selling it. I'll buy you a pony instead, now, you are going to walk up those steps, change out of your clothes and into a proper outfit. Mr. Jameson is coming over later with his son, Damon, who'll be your fiancee."

Y/n looked straight at her father with wide eyes while she held the side of her face from the pain. "Daddy-", "He has asked for your hand in marriage, and I had agreed. It's about time I find you a husband, we'll receive more money and land afterwards. Don't worry, Damon will treat you well."

Y/n shook her head as she started to back away from her father. "Get up those steps, right now. I'm right behind you." He growled, ". . . You know what." He grabbed her arm and started to pull her into the manor, she didn't fight back but obeyed his directions.

He made her go up the steps and had the maids help her get dressed. She wore a dark teal cotton dress, with white tights then a tight corset underneath it, her hair was braided back into a French braid. She was then sent downstairs, and stood by her father who was laughing with Dutch and Hosea.

"Yes, yes, exactly!" Hosea chuckled, "Your daughter looks lovely, you must adore her." Richardson laughed and covered his mouth. "She's too much to handle, that's why I'm going to marry her off." Hosea was taken by surprise as he looked to Dutch who arched his brow. Y/n simply looked away before breaking out into a run, getting away from the room.

"Y/n!" Richardson shouted.

"Y/n?" Kimberly said when she ran past her. Y/n didn't stop when she ran through the door and towards the barn, unlocking the stall, quickly slipping on the reins, snatching her quiver and bow, before jumping onto Buckley's wide body. She kicked her feet and he took off running. Richardson made it outside only for Buckley to brush past him with such speed—the wind knocked him backwards onto his back. "Y/n!!" He shouted.

Y/n didn't listen, she kept running. Tears falling from her face as she started to cry, holding onto Buckley's mane as he charged forward. Unwilling to stop or rest, even being a horse, he understood her emotions better than any person could. He was indeed a special gift from her mother. He ran and continued to go wherever he intended to go, and he knew just the place.

But what they didn't know was that Arthur was chasing them close behind.

~~~

When Dutch and Hosea ran out after Richard, Y/n had blown by them. Arthur came running with John and Dutch spoke: "Don't worry, Mr. Jones, I'll send my best men to go and fetch your daughter. Callaghan, go and get his daughter! Right now!"

Arthur tipped his head and called his horse before jumping on and chasing after the girl. One hand, after to catch her, and on the other, to comfort the poor thing. He listened to the heavy running from Buckley, he saw her soon enough as the horse zoomed through the trees and branches. For a giant beast, he sure was agile.

~~~

Buckley whined when he approached stone pillars that were placed around in a large circle, grass was everywhere as the forest provided a large open space. Y/n opened her eyes and wiped her tears to see clearly. When she did, she saw the tall stones. "Buckley. . . You. . . You remember this place?" She muttered, slowly she got off her horse, sliding off her shoes and letting her feet touch the bare grass—entering the large circle. Looking at the stones.

She sniffled and stood in the grass, beside one of the pillars, a heavy puff of air was blown into her hair as Buckley slowly and gently knelt down on his knees before slumping against the pillar and lying down. Y/n knew that position he always made, she knelt and sat down. Leaning her back against his hefty shoulders before he rested his large head in her lap. Letting her brush his mane.

Her tears fell as she kissed his head, "He doesn't want me to have you. . ." She whispered with closed eyes, "I want to love him, Buckley, I really do. . . But he just makes things so much more difficult. . . First, he takes away my dreams to become an archer. Then my goal to become a seamstress, now the only two things my mother left me."

Buckley huffed and nudged his face closer into her chest, she hugged his neck and rested her head on his. Before hearing a crunch from afar, she stood and pulled out her bow. Aiming the arrow straight as Arthur who raised his hands.

"Hey now, easy there." He said while slowly walking towards her. Buckley stood and protectively walked up besides Y/n as he watched the strange man approaching. "I'm just here to bring you back home." He said. Y/n shook her head as she pulled the bowstring even tighter, "I'm not going back. . . Not without my horse." She muttered.

"I understand. What if we went somewhere, jus' for a day or two. You and me?" Arthur asked. "Why would I trust a stranger like yourself? You're just gonna be paid off by my father to drag me back!" She accused him, he kept his hands up and reached up for his hat before it was shot clean off his head and pinned into one of the stone pillars.

Arthur looked at her with shock as she instantly grabbed another arrow, "Don't move." She warned him. He simply nodded his head. "Want me to tell you somethin'?" He questioned, "I heard you chattin' with your friend, Kimberly her name? Said you was interested in outlaws robbin' Saint Denis. Lemme show you somethin'." Quicker than a blink of an eye, Arthur shot Y/n's quiver off her hip and placed his gun back in his holster.

She gasped and almost tripped as she jumped to the side. Still holding her bow as arrows spilled on the grass, she looked back at him and growled. "You owe me for that!" She hissed. "You come with me, and I'll pay you back. Buy a whole new case for yer." He offered.

"How do I know that you won't drag me back?" She questioned. "Lady, I'm not the type to force a woman to do what she doesn't want to do, but I am one to listen. And you can trust me when I tell you, I ain't takin' you back to your daddy." Arthur said.

Y/n was hesitant, but she glanced at Buckley who let out a soft huff from his large nostrils. She eased the tension on her bowstring and lowered her weapon, removing the arrow from the string as she let it drop onto the fallen pile of arrows. ". . . You swear?" She asked. "I swear, ma'am."

Y/n rolled her shoulder before strapping her bow into her chest then grabbing the quiver which now had a broken strap. ". . . Where to?" She muttered. "I know a place. Just, take your time getting on that horse." Arthur backed away and let her have alone time with Buckley.

Out of sight for a moment, he walked towards the tree and spotted Javier and John walking towards him. He stopped them before telling them his plan, saying to tell Dutch where he was going to be. "Yer goin' to Horseshoe Overlook?" John muttered. "Hosea said it was a good place to lie low, I'll be there with the girl. Holding her there for 'bout a day or two before I come back-", "About that, Arthur. . ." Javier cut in, "Dutch said we might need to keep her for a week instead."

"What?" Arthur mumbled. "Dutch said that he and Hosea could possibly raise the price to whoever finds her, from money to solid gold bars!" Javier whispered. "Where'd you go, Mr?" Y/n asked. John and Javier both ran off quickly as Arthur turned around, "Just about to grab my horse." He said. Y/n arched her brow and looked at his horse.

". . . She's beautiful." She muttered, Buckley following right behind her. "Thank you." Arthur said as he walked to his ride, he grabbed his hat first before setting it on his head. "Ma'am." He added before jumping into the saddle. Y/n climbed onto Buckley bareback and looked at Arthur. "I never got your name." She said.

"Arthur Callaghan." He replied, "Now, Y/n, follow me."

~~~

"Little brat just ups and decides to run off!" Richardson cursed, Dutch approached him and held his shoulder. "Callaghan is an amazing hunter, although he ain't exactly cheap for his type of service. He expects payment from me, which I can only get from someone else paying me." Dutch sighed.

Richardson groaned as he looked back at Hosea, "How much are you asking for?" Dutch just smirked.

~~~

Y/n rode close beside Arthur, he gave her a small cloak for her to wear and cover her head just in case it started to rain. "May I ask why you ran off so suddenly?" Arthur questioned. ". . . My father was plannin' on marrying me off to some random man I've never met. Selling my horse, and who knows what else." She said, "I wanted an out. . . So I left. I didn't expect this to happen."

Arthur shook his head and looked at Buckley, "What's his name?", "Buckley. . . Sometimes I call him Buck for short." Y/n answered. Buckley bowed his head and kept walking, "I taught him that trick." Y/n smirked.

Arthur chuckled at the small gesture. "C'mon, we needa speed up and get there before dark."

~Y/n pov~

The breeze was gentle, and the crickets chirping from the distance was calming to hear. I set Buckley by a tree and let him eat the grass, I looked over my shoulder and saw Arthur Callaghan fixing up a tent. I don't know where he got it from, but it's something. I've never slept in a tent before, or a cot.

I'm used to a large king sized bed, multiple blankets. Now it was just a small cot, a blanket, and probably campfire, one side of me was excited that I was camping, but another was terrified that I left my home with a stranger and I'm also staying with him. "So what's your plan?" I said. "What plan?" Arthur replied.

"When my father sends his men after me? He's going to send the entire town to find me.", "Trust me, ma'am, I don't plan on bein' caught." His southern drawl sounded rough but also sexy at the same time. I turned away from Buckley and slowly stepped closer as he tied something up, "You've done this before, I see?"

"Plenty of times, ma'am. Sometimes I travel with a group." He said. "Is it always this quiet?" I asked. "Rarely if I'm with a group." I sat on a log and sighed when my dress snagged on a twig, "Dammit." I scowled as I tugged it off. "You alright, there, Ma'am?"

"I'm okay, it's just, excuse my language but, it's my damn dress. It gets stuck on everything!" I sighed. I was looking at the sky when I heard Arthur approaching me, I turned my head and finally saw just how handsome he looked up close. "Do ya wanna buy somethin' else to wear?" He asked me. "I. . . Um, if you don't mind. I don't really care." I stuttered before looking away.

Were men's eyes always that blue? They look like pools of the ocean! "I can stop by a shop." He knelt down and started to stack a few sticks together for a fire later tonight, "I just needa know yer size and I'll be back, y'know, so people won't catch you sneakin' around." I just nodded my head while clenching my dress, I felt something tingling in my stomach but I didn't know what it was.

"Y-Yes, that'll be wonderful, Mr. Callaghan." I muttered, "I'd very much appreciate it." He set a small fire and wrote down my size for shirts and pants. "Thank you, really, Mr. Callaghan."

"No problem, ma'am. All you need to do is stay here. I'll be back." He said, he left soon after and I looked back at Buckley. "You like it here buddy?" I asked him. He flapped his ears and continued to graze the grass as he slowly found his way towards me.

The sun was close to setting, I could see the darkness coming as the crickets started to grow louder. It was beautiful outside, I stood and walked towards the cot and saw the lamps inside the tent. He has done this many times.

It was odd being outside after dark like this. I was used to a curfew; I reached up and undid my hair and let it down, undoing the braids completely as I sighed with relief. The tension was undone. I believe thirty minutes or so had passed before Arthur came back, I looked and saw that he carried a few boxes and set them on a table he left behind. "I don't have much of a fashion sense but. . ." I approached the boxes and lifted the tops off each one, seeing a different outfit in each of them.

Red flannel with jeans, another set with a blue shirt and a beautiful belt, another with a black shirt and two different hats, each one had a spare white shirt to wear underneath, different set of undergarments. "I didn't know which one you'd like, so I bought the best three they had-", "Thank you so much, Mr. Callaghan!" I smiled while hugging him. Never has a man or even a boy bought me clothing that I always wanted to wear and feel comfortable in. "You don't needa thank me, ma'am. Oh, and here. . . Thought you might needa few pairs." He grabbed one more box and placed it in my hands.

When I opened it, I felt my eyes shimmer with joy as I overlooked a beautiful pair of boots. ". . . Arthur. . ." I mumbled as I let my finger trace over the delicate pattern of golden roses that blended beautifully with the rich tan and black color. "I sorta measured your shoe size when I was fixin' the fire." My smile was bigger than ever before when I grabbed the clothing. "Thank you!" I said again before running into the tent with two boxes.

~3rd pov~

Arthur didn't know how to react when she hugged him, or even thanked him for simply buying a few outfits. Never had he had a woman almost tear up over some clothes, even though he had Sadie and Tilly help him with the clothing choices at the shop. He brushed his hair and slipped his hat back on, he kept thinking how he was going to keep a woman inside a camp for an entire week without scaring her off.

He tended to the fire and walked to his horse which carried two hares that he had hunted down on his way back. "You won't last long." He muttered. "Mr. Callaghan?" Y/n said. "Yes?", "Can you help me with something?"

Arthur approached the tent and stood by the flaps, "Anything, ma'am." He replied. Y/n exited the tent and was only wearing her corset with her undergarments covering her legs. "Do you mind undoing this corset for me? I can't reach it, those maids tied it up in a way I couldn't undo it without someone's help." She awkwardly said.

"Oh. . . Of course, here. Turn around." He said, when she did, he felt a small smile tug at the corner of his lips. Her bashful face and her sweet voice made him smile. He pulled the strings loose and undid the different knots and ties before it came undone. "There you go.", "Thank you." She said before entering the tent once more.

"Was your daddy always this. . . Demanding?" Arthur asked her. "Uhm, no actually. When I was nine he wasn't like this at all. He liked it when I wore jeans and boots, supported me about my talents with my bow, but. . . Then his twin brother, or my uncle, and my mother were killed. That's when he changed. Ever since, he's never wanted me to shoot another arrow, dress the same, or even ride Buckley anymore." Y/n answered.

"Wait, how do you know that he was demanding? I never told you all of that." Arthur chuckled and let his thumbs hook onto his belt, "I sorta overheard your conversation by the side of your mansion, I heard him hit you. I was tempted to shoot him right there and then." He confessed.

Y/n was silent, Arthur thought he made her uncomfortable but inside of the tent. She was grinning as she slid the belt into the loops of her jeans. "Well, I appreciate the thought, Mr. Callaghan. Your wife must be lucky to have found such a good man like yourself." She complimented him.

"Nah, I ain't married. I was, but it didn't work out." He said. "Oh, I'm sorry.", "It's alright."

Y/n slid on her boots and sighed when she stretched her arms, she opened the flaps of the tent and walked out. "What do you think?" She asked. Arthur could feel his heart leap out of his chest when he saw her dressed. The jeans brought out her hips, the shirt fitted around her waist and chest so well. The hat on her head and her boots tied it all together along with two regular braids hanging off both her shoulders as she leaned on her leg and crossed her arms.

"Beautiful. . ."

"What was that?" Y/n smiled as she looked at Arthur's dumbfounded expression. "I. . . You look good." He said. Bringing a brighter smile to her lips as she spun around in her new attire, "This feels amazing! It's all brand new! I love these boots, the hat, everything!" She said.

"What do you think we can do tomorrow?" She asked him while looking at the sky. "Whatever you wanna do." He answered. Y/n giggled and took in a deep breath, "I think I like it here." She sighed, "Let's go hunting tomorrow! We can find a deer—oh! Or a bear!"

"A bear?" Arthur said. "I've always wanted to hunt a bear. Especially Mor'du." She muttered. "Who the hell is Mor'du?" Arthur questioned. "You never heard the legend of Mor'du?"

Arthur shook his head and Y/n grinned, "I'll tell you if you take me hunting." She said. Arthur hung his head and sighed, "Sure, we can go hunting tomorrow." He replied

"Yes!" She smiled before hugging him again, "This is going to be the best few days of my life!"

_____________________________________

Part 2 coming soon!

#smutwarning #fanfic #arthur morgan #read dead redemption 2 #rdr2 x reader #rdr2 #arthur morgan x reader

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melodyssolarsystem · 23 hours

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do you ever get in a writing trans and realise you’ve written a whopping four hundred (400) words of just. character A gushing over character B and realising they are madly in love with them.

anyways i’m coming out of hiding !! hi rdr2 community hi charthur community take some charthur crumbs from a fic im working on. i’m cooking. you’ll have to read the fic for full context once i’m done cooking.

It’s dark by now, and Arthur isn’t having a lot of luck.

He went in the general direction of the arrow, tried to follow those dried up and scuffed horse tracks, but it’s pretty much futile. He lets out a frustrated sigh, engulfed by the night for no one to hear, and slides out of the saddle.

Ironically enough, he sets up camp. He’s not getting anywhere in the dark, and as much as he wants to keep looking, longs for it, he knows it only puts himself in danger, and then who would look for Charles? Know the clue he’d found?

He lays reluctantly in his bedroll, staring up at the stars. They twinkle and shine, and he tries to make out shapes; he’d heard there were specific ones in the stars, like patterns, but he hadn’t looked much more into it.

Sounds like something Charles could tell him about.

Arthur all but scowls harshly at himself as he finds his thoughts forever trailing back to that man, one way or another. It’s damn near frustrating, how, ever since he joined a few months ago, there was always a way he could connect Charles to his current thoughts, current conversation.

“Yeah, and I like Karen.”

He thinks back to his conversation with Sean; hardly a conversation, but certainly an exchange of words. Kid’s no where near a romantic, that’s more of Mary-Beth’s thing, so he’s not sure why he’s considering his words. Has been, ever since they left his mouth, turning them over and over in his head.

Was that really it?

Was that just it? Was he really just liking Charles the way Sean likes Karen? The way John likes Abigail?

(Well, he’s not so sure about that one, but it’s his closest reference right now.)

He scowls, thinking the answer can’t be that plain and simple. In a subconscious motion, his hand reaches for his journal. The moon provides him with enough light, and he looks over his sketches.

There’s general logs of his adventures and travels, yes, but among them all is just Charles. Hell, as if he’s only just realising, he has two pages of nothing but sketches of Charles. Two pages that could’ve been used for anything else, anything useful.

And yet…

And yet he wouldn’t have it any other way.

Then his thoughts are trailing; stolen brushes of hands, knocked knees in tight places, glances from afar that were occasionally met with dark, deep eyes that seemed to hold a thousand stories.

His hair, which Arthur thinks is so beautiful, that cascades down his back and glimmers in the sun, camouflages in the dark. Hair that he’s seen Charles take so long in the morning to care for, to make sure it’s healthy and gleaming for the day. Hair that he’s only seen out of the confines of his usual ponytail just a few times, that Arthur thinks should be let free like that just a little more often.

Hands. Gentle, calloused hands that he’s had in his only a few times, on rare occasions, like passing a cigarette or grabbing the same bottle and simply laughing about it after. Hands he sometimes found himself wishing, dreaming of holding his for just a moment longer, that trail up his arm and go to clasp the side of his face-

Oh.

‘Well, shit.’

#once again you will not know the context until it’s done #rdr2 #red dead redemption 2 #arthur morgan #charles smith #charthur #fanfiction #fandom #writing #writerblr #writers on tumblr

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diagonal-queen · 1 year

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If the BSD boys were my coworkers

♡ characters: Atsushi Nakajima, Dazai Osamu, Chuuya Nakahara, Akutagawa Ryuunosuke, Kunikida Doppo, Ranpo Edogawa, John Steinbeck, Edgar Allan Poe

♡ synopsis: How would these boys be if they were my coworkers?

♡ cw: Swearing, knives, mentions of sexual harassment

note: For clarification I'm a retail assistant at a grocery store. So basically how good are these boys at stocking vegetables and being nice to people? This is extremely self indulgent, which I apologise for. Also apologies for errors and I hope you enjoy x

Atsushi:

Would be so good with helping customers. I'd always be calling after him to get me out of trouble with mean old customers lol

Like me would also be bad with the wrapping machine T-T

Pretty good at his job, not totally brilliant but also not bad. I think it'd be fine if I were left alone with him for a little bit

The kindest coworker I could ask for honestly he'd always be there to help me if I needed his help

Would bring me back a snack or cake from a nearby bakery or cafe from his lunch break <3

Like me, would find it very hard to not just start eating all the fresh fruit while he's stocking it (I kin him a lot guys lmao)

Actually like super duper efficient and we'd be able to get our work done pretty quickly. The last half hour or so of our shifts would be so slow

Would always ask me to be careful if I were using a knife to do something because he's just a sweetie

Dazai:

This dude would be so damn slow when restocking food honestly and it would be infuriating lmao

Wouldn't be very thorough when checking stock so I'd probably be finding a bit of rotten fruit while working :'(

He'd be fun to hang out with in the back though, would definitely flirt on company time and hold the both of us up lol

Would do that thing where you stand behind someone who's trying to reach something in a high shelf and you'd get it for them but also lowkey lean against them. All the time

Would be good at remembering which stock we have and what we don't have though

He would be so good and charismatic with customers, especially old women they'd call him a charming young gentleman and all that stuff

Always forgets to bring his shit (nametag, pen, apron etc.) to work and would probably have to continuously borrow things

The thing with him is that he's legitimately good at all of it but he just chooses to be incompetent just because T-T

Chuuya:

Would be so. fucking. GOOD at this job holy shit.

Super good at wrapping stock and would get the hang of all the machinery and stuff immediately

Would be civil to customers unless they give him shit then he'd give it right back lmaoo

He would definitely also defend me if I was being bullied by Karens or being harassed by male patrons (during the daytime there's my adult male coworkers and then there's me, a small girl who looks like fifteen or some shit. Y'all know I be gettin called 'sweetie' by men four times my age)

Would always be very salty about having to use the step to reach stock on high shelves lol

But he'd also be super good at heaving and lifting heavy stuff like potato sacks which I'd have to get him to do for me because I'm weak

Would look so hot in the work uniform highkey

Like the number one coworker I won't lie

Akutagawa:

Akutagawa has a serious case of resting bitch face, so customers would be too worried to approach him lmao and I'd have to help everyone

He makes up for this by being super duper good at presentation and so I'd never have to go around and organise things because they'd always look pretty lol

Probably uses his ability to help him carry things (but only in the back because that would scare customers)

Despite his fighting talent he would not be able to cut vegetables. He would be so confused with it. Same with the wrapping he wouldn't be able to get it right

Would prefer to wear gloves while working

If Gin ever came in to grab some groceries he'd talk to her for a little (and treat her better than all the other customers T-T)

Actually wouldn't be so bad to talk to while working but he would literally never initiate any conversations or small talk

Focuses so hard while he's working and it's honestly so cute

Kunikida:

He would be both good to work with but also crappy to work with hear me out

He would be great at remembering stock, helping me with customers, and helping me reach stuff on high shelves because at work I'm considered short

But he'd also hound me for being too slow or not stacking stuff correctly

That being said, he would always answer any questions that I'd have and explain things to me in a way that I'd understand :)

Works like a machine. I'd never be able to catch up to him at all (and he would hate that)

Would not want me bringing snacks or drinks to work but like what's he gonna do? Waste perfectly good food? Didn't think so Kunikida >:)

Even if he had a super long shift he'd just never tire and always be buzzing (even if he were tired he'd be great at concealing it)

Let's just be glad that he's not working alongside Dazai

Ranpo:

WOULDN'T GET ANY GODDAMN WORK DONE

I love Ranpo to the moon and back but he'd be the most useless fucking coworker of all time

He wouldn't make lists, he wouldn't grab stock and if I'm LUCKY he'd work out the front of the store. He'd use any excuse to stay in the back and just use the label maker and maybe cut vegetables because of how low effort it is

Would be super fun to hang out with if we have nothing to do though. We would talk so much shit about mean customers we encounter and stuff

He'd also bring sweets to work and let me have some sometimes, but only if I nag him about not doing any work

Would stay in the fridge just to breathe out and see mist come out of his mouth (and would also forget to close the fridge door)

Knows the layout of the whole damn store after walking through it ONE time

In conclusion I'm snitching to Fukuzawa

Steinbeck:

Absolute fucking BEAST. This dude is a farmer so he's able to rotate and complete quality checks at lightning speed

Honestly probably wouldn't need much training if any at all. He'd be the employee of the month on the first day

I feel like I'd have tons of free time at the end of my shifts because he'd just finish all the work so fast

Could use his ability to replenish stock. He could, but he won't. Just because he's a bit of a bitch (and people might not want to eat literal flesh vegetables but y'know)

Hums along to the songs that he knows on the radio while he works

Is good at being civil with customers but if they give him lip he's not gonna be as civil for much longer

Always bantering with our other coworkers and DEFINITELY talking shit about annoying customers in our free time

I mean if I want to not have to do very much work on a certain day I'd hope that I'd be working with John lol

Poe:

Would take a little while to get used to it all, because I feel like he's not the type to memorise a bunch of stuff super fast

Would be overwhelmed by customers and might freeze up on them; I'd have to come in and save him

Otherwise, he might just default to 'I'll go to the back and check for you' so he can escape the situation (same)

Would take pretty long while restocking food because he'd want to make it all look nice lol

He'd be scared of the wrapping machine (it has a hot plate to seal wrapping and he'd be scared of burning himself on it)

Might actually always be miserable because he's not allowed to bring Karl to work and so he'd feel lonely :(

He and I would talk about our niche interests when we're finished and have nothing else to do

I mean he could most definitely be worse. No matter how bad he'd be I'd love him anyway

i will do a girls version of this btw

#bsd #bungo stray dogs #bungou stray dogs #bsd headcanons #bsd fanfic #fanfic #fanfiction #bsd atsushi #bsd dazai #bsd chuuya #bsd akutagawa #bsd kunikida #bsd ranpo #bsd steinbeck #bsd poe #bsd hcs #headcanons

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sonicasura · 1 year

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C Virus Leon S. Kennedy

Since I done a Feral Plagas Leon, why not move onto C Virus? This is gonna be much different than most portrayals of those infected in the virus or any C Virus!Leons. He's quite eldritch here and eldritchness isn't something I tend to hold back on. Let's get started.

Traces of the various viruses and parasites Leon came in contact over all his adventures lay dormant which leads to the entire C Virus becoming something else, something self aware. He cocoons after RE 6 events once any possible infection is deemed negative to everyone. Leon unconsciously goes to an abandoned mall and the process takes place.

It takes a week for him to come out as this new strain of C Virus is planning an effective evolutionary route. An 'ultimate life form' spiel with temporary mutations for emergency cocoons and planned permanent ones once it deems Leon stable enough to handle it. He comes out bearing insect traits as the base which leads to a titanic chimeric final evolution.

Feral episodes are a mix between feeding frenzy and 10 cats who just been given catnip. Any episode dealing with food stems from Leon's body preparing to cocoon for a permanent mutation. The splurge diet depends on what species is going to join this incomplete chimera and vitamin sources. Avian? Leon is hunting a mix of bird species from pigeons to harpy eagles.

Catnip cat episodes are basically the zoomies on steroids. It's best to have a remote control drone for Leon to chase as you are most likely to drop from exhaustion with any physical exercise before the man is even half way tired. Luckily his shit ton of energy tones down the closer he is to his final mutation.

Despite either kind of feral episode, he's harmless unless threatened. The worst Leon will do is maybe eat an asshole Karen's spoiled dog. If threatened, he'll respond with either lethal or nonlethal force depending on the threat in question. Zombies and other mindless infected aren't off the menu either. This strain will take any virus it can gets its hands on to the point Leon's revulsion to the thought is muted.

Very very clingy and is addicted to positive affection especially physical. Leon's true emotions are on full display during a feral episode as his C Virus strain deems his normal unhealthy behavior an issue. He needs to be mentally healthy too than just physically for any new evolutions.

Make sure you have something to do as Leon ain't letting ya out of his sight during a feral episode. Just a huge mess who purrs, chirps and chitters like a needy kitten. Leon is fully aware of his behavior so he's always embarrassed especially if he done any dumb shit such as chasing a laser pointer light.

There's a total of six stages for his 'evolution' not including the base. Only when Leon is halfway through does he gain the ability to shift into his human form. Although it lasts for four hours before the man has to change back but the time limit triples with each stage.

Leon's behavior and speech leans more on the primal side. He makes nests to sleep or rest in, fox dens for housing if there isn't a safe place to stay, even using animalistic terms. Pack for friends and family, mate for lover, whelp for children. Absolutely territorial when it comes to those he trusts or cherishes.

Leon chitters, purrs or nuzzles if he notices someone in his pack is distressed. This usually happens when words feel useless. Licking is an uncommon sign of affection from him. Leon courts like a bowerbird as his infected nature makes him a hoarder. Any interesting item often lines any nest he makes and he gifts his absolute favorites to whoever he's courting.

Molting is a rare occurrence but it does happen around late summer. Any husk left behind bears no viral traits nor DNA and serves as a very powerful fertilizer instead. It decomposes in minutes if not preserved. One molted skin can restore an entire forest to a healthy habitable state even if its heavily radiated or scorched earth.

Base C Virus Leon can produce webbing from his mouth, hands and feet. These webs can contain healing(green) or paralytic(yellow) properties based on the color. Leon is able to spit acid mainly for melting any obstacles and material for nesting purposes. He retains any abilities from previous stages but they're more refined than the original.

Once he reaches his final stage, only way to kill him is by melting him down until nothing remains. Death by old age leads to a rebirth cycle akin to the immortal jellyfish and a phoenix. Leon's old body will crumble into fertilizer like substance similar to his molted skin albeit with his new infant human form hidden inside. A reset where memories of his past life return at eight years old while the metamorphosis begins at 18.

Extreme heat that is equal or greater than lava is required to effectively melt Leon down. Acid irritates his hide, crushing just makes it harder to move while long drops are a concussion and broken bones at best. He can regenerate from a small piece around an inch in size within two days. If the fragments belongs to a vital organ then its six hours to one day depending on the part. (Heart and brain are the quickest.) Basically its best to kill him before the final stage.

Leon will have a major existential crisis about the whole thing. Although he resolves to use his new infected status to combat anymore B.O.W and biological terrorist group by himself if needed. Leon will try to keep a down low but possible slips are bound to happen. Especially when his friends discover he's alive.

That's all I have for now! Until next time folks, continue to thrive in the wake of Raccoon City. Please enjoy this little song to vibe with: My Demons by Starset.

youtube

#sonicasura #resident evil series #resident evil #re series #biohazard #biohazard resident evil #resident evil 6 #infected!leon #infected leon #c virus leon #c virus!leon #monster leon kennedy #monster!leon kennedy #leon kennedy #leon scott kennedy #leon s. kennedy #leon s kennedy #personal headcanon #Youtube

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darlingrini · 1 year

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Another follow up ask lmao, can you spill more about Gordon 🥺

This is my most self indulgent Yandere tbh XD I made him purely cause I deal with a lot of shit at work and fantasizing a man who can fix my problems at work is a ideal tbh, also has exactly what I like in a man so like pffbt:

Gordon Calderon is my beloved ideal for a coworker. He likes to think he's like any typical average Joe. Growing up in the Midwest, raised with four siblings and having a rebellious phase with his parents lead to him traveling for years around the US before finally settling on a random town to start off a new life. Your town. At first he worked as a farmland in a local farm until a rather late night visit to the local gas station. To his destiny. You. You were a overworked, overnighter who ran the store on your own accords. Gordon was instantly smitten, soon with thoughts of you filling his every waking moment as he would find himself racing late in the night for a annual visit. All the moods you displayed fascinated him, so easy to read like a open book. From your bitchy nights to the ones where you shone like the morning sun he loved it. And wanted more and more. When he notices how….unsavory some of your other late night coworkers are he takes it upon himself to clear up the schedule. Weasling his way in to getting the now open job slot for himself as a new hire.

He's the best coworker you could ask for. Kind, considerate, sarcastically funny and always seems to get the job done to both your benefits. He is your shield when Karen's call or when rude customers decide to test your late night limits. When he's not around you he's rather a grumpy guy and doesn't seem to tolerate many others conversation. He has stalked you after work hours and on his days off when your working and he's not has broken in your home to find out more about you. He's a fan of horror movies, video games, naps, chocolate croissants and heavy metal music~

#gordon the overnighter #retail coworker gordon #coworker yandere #male yandere #anon ask #yandere oc #gordon oc #darlingrini #ask darling rini #my precious boy #my little widdle metal head ~

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lamardeuse · 9 months

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buried my hands in saffron

911 | Buck/Eddie | Rated E | c. 4600 words

@911bingo prompt: Mutual Masturbation

The thing was, Eddie should have been ecstatic.

Three months ago, he had ended things with Marisol and sworn off dating again – because what was the point when you were never going to get over the big, beautiful gringo you'd been stupidly in love with for years? Four weeks ago, Buck had broken up with Natalia. And last week, after a marathon therapy session with Frank and a painful kick in the ass from Hen, Eddie had finally told Buck how he felt about him. He'd confessed, put his heart on the line. And Buck – well. Buck had been a little shocked at first.

“I wasn't shocked,” Buck said, looking to Hen and Karen for support. “You make it sound like I was some fainting Victorian lady with my corset laced too tight.”

“Fine, we'll pretend I didn't have to scrape your jaw off the floor,” Eddie said, skewering Buck with a look and grinning when he blushed.

“I wasn't shocked,” Buck insisted. “I've done stuff with guys before.”

“A lot's changed in the last decade, Buck,” Hen drawled, taking a sip of her wine.

Eddie's eyebrows shot up. “A decade, really? Also, how do you know it's been that long for him?”

Hen chuckled. “I keep forgetting you never met Buck 1.0. The day he found out I was a lesbian, he made a point of letting me know he'd kissed two guys in college and gone down on this really hot truck driver when he was hitching a ride to Montana, said it was – and I quote – ‘some Jack Kerouac shit'. I threw up in my mouth a little.”

Karen covered her face with her hands to muffle her laughter. “Geez,” Buck muttered, “see if I ever open up to you again. And it's been nine years, not that I'm counting.”

“If I never hear about your blowjobs again it'll be too soon,” Hen said. Pointing a finger at both of them, she added, “Fair warning.”

“Oh, hell no,” Eddie said, “you do not need to worry about that.” Even the thought of sharing graphic details of his sex life with his friends was horrifying.

“Not that we've –” Buck started, and Eddie glared him into silence.

Karen leaned forward. “Okay, so after the shock wore off, what happened?”

Hen raised her eyebrows at her wife. “Look who's nosy.”

“Listen, they're family now,” Karen said simply.

“And that means they don't owe us the details.”

Karen rested her chin on her hand and batted her eyelashes at Eddie and Buck. “No, you're right, they absolutely don't.”

Eddie glanced at Buck, who was biting his lip to keep from smiling. “You want to know who kissed who first,” Eddie said, mouth curving.

“I mean,” Karen said, “we might have a whole five dollars riding on it, so that would be –”

“Oh please, we do not, I thought you were joking –”

“I never joke about probability,” Karen retorted. “And the odds are definitely in my favor here –”

“Uh,” Buck said, raising a hand, “I think you're both gonna end up winning. Or losing, depending on how you look at it.��

read the rest at the AO3

#my stuff #911 bingo #buddie fic #buddie

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shamelessler · 24 days

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i know a lot of people HATE south park, so heres ur south park warning lol

MAIN 4 TK + AGERE HCS!!!

Kenny

- boy oh boy, where do I even begin? you are my sunshine, my only sunshine

- but fr he's my fav!! he gives off cg vibes because of how he is with Karen

- got into a lot of tickle fights with his siblings as a kid

- gets tickled the least (besides cartman lol) out of the main four

- that doesn't mean he doesn't like it though. he likes being tickled the most in the group, actually - he very rarely gets any attention and he's embarrassed to admit how much he enjoys being cooed over

- he prefers Butters to tickle him rather than his other friends, just because Butters is so gentle and sweet

- soft tickles get him so good

- also his laugh is canonically SO contangious so whenever people do tickle Kenny, they're laughing with him

- he really needs some cheer up tickles, poor guy

- only person to ever tickle Cartman and come out of it unscathed

- regresses involuntarily and if he does regress around his friends he just goes completely mute and that's how they know

- more of a caregiver though, but only for his siblings

- he doesn't seem very ticklish at first glance but as soon as you just unzip his parka he is DONE FOR. - death spot is his neck (hence why his hood is always up)

Kyle

- where do i even begin, labonbon?

- super ticklish on his ears (i guessed cuz he never takes off his hat and it specifically covers his ears i dunno)

- rasperries there make him jump out of his skin

- enjoys being tickled to some degree, but only by Stan

- more of a lee than a ler, but he will ler if he gets the chance to wreck cartmans shit

- on the other hand, he prefers caregiving instead of regressing

- cares specifically for Stan but sometimes subtly helps Kenny

- whenever he does regress he does it to help cope with the stress of caring for other people

- only cared for Cartman one time and did it very begrudgingly. damn his conscience.

- absolutely loves caring for Stan because it just makes Stan so happy and he lowkey has it bad for Stan

- rougher tickles (surprisingly) are the way to go to make him crumble - hear me out...snorts. -

Stan

- at first I didn't really like Stan, but he's definitely grown on me

- starts regressing at the reccomendation of Kyle because he's afraid of getting older and wants to feel like a child again

- Kyle is his cg, although sometimes Stan does care for Kyle

- Not too ticklish and he doesn't exactly enjoy it too much

- that's a different story when he's small though...

- he enjoys tickling much more when he's little because he feels safer

- most ticklish on his feet

Cartman

- scary lee or ler. doesn't matter, he's still scary.

- his friends are terrified of tickling him (cuz they know how venegeful he can be *cough* scott tenorman *cough*)

- genuinely hates tickling, there is no shred of enjoyment

- tickles Kyle until he cries

- he gets tickled when he crosses a boundary (like in that episode 'tsst' where they essentially tickled cartman to make him behave lol)

- regresses for fun and completely unshameless about his attachment to his stuffed animals

- plays REALLY weird games...like he plays pretend planned parent hood

- cries if a stuffed animal falls off the bed while regressed

- he's really mean to his stuffed animals when he's big, though

- loves playing games with people he likes a lot

- as someone who is an EXTREMELY guilty kyman shipper at times, i think kyle would enjoy playing with him while he's small (because he's a lot more innocent)

- calling him 'eric' makes him melt and he hates it.

#ignore how cartman has the most #im so normal about him.#eric cartman is a guilty pleasure im sorry #weewooweewoo #sfw tickles #sfw agere #south park #south park tickles #eric cartman #stan marsh #kyle broflovski #kenny mccormick

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petertingle-yipyip · 2 years

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DEVIL ON MY SHOULDER - MATT MURDOCK

two - glimpse of us

//tags: @ironprincessstranger @johnmurphys-sass @dusstory // one // three // masterlist //

Pairing: Daredevil x Exodus (ft M. Murdock x Reader)

Word Count: 8,228

Summary: Earning trust in Hell’s Kitchen is surprisingly easy when it comes to your newest ally. But one long night reveals more about all of you than you had expected (i haven’t read this since i drafted it so i don’t remember if i love it or not)

You were walking down the street, having just left Matt’s apartment. You were reading the messages Karen had sent about the DA meeting on your way to the office when your attention was caught on a vaguely familiar face. The man was ducking into a pawn shop. The man was broad shouldered, tall, with a buzz-cut. You pulled up short and saw him glance over his shoulder as he stepped through the doorway, almost staring at you.

Almost.

Once he fully entered the building, you hustled across the street and snuck in behind him. You glanced around at various objects in the display, pretending to be interested as you waited to see what the man was there for.

“I need an NYPD mobile communications rig.” The man asked the worker, his deep voice ringing through the small store. “One that get encrypted tactical frequencies.”

If you weren’t sure about his identity to begin with, you were after that.

You turned towards their conversation, eyeing the man for a second before making eye contact with the owner. You lifted a brow quickly, as if to ask what he was going to do. The shop owner swallowed visibly and you were hit with a wave of uncertainty. You smirked slightly and made your way to the main counter.

“Dealing in this shit is illegal.” The owner reasoned.

“Do we look like cops?” You asked smoothly, leaning an elbow onto the counter.

The man nodded slightly before dropping a stack of money on the countertop. The owner looked at the money for a minute before looking back to you two. His eyes darted between you and the large man beside you before nodding and disappearing.

“We?” The man - the Punisher - asked. “There’s no we in this.”

“If there’s anyone in this city you want on your side, it’s me. Especially considering how you shot the Devil in the head last night… You think he’s not gonna remember that? He’s not necessarily big on revenge, per say, but he sure knows how to get even.”

“How’d you know about that?” He turned to face you, brows furrowed as he studied your features. You held his glare with a slight smirk, gesturing to the side with the arm you weren’t leaning on. “Shit.” He chuckled. “That was you?”

“Mhmm.” You nodded. “And you shoot him like that again, you and I are gonna have real issues. Understood?”

He laughed again.

“I missed the part that was funny.” You said firmly, trying to find some emotion to use against him.

You came up empty.

“What do you want?”

“I was gonna ask you the same thing.” You shrugged. “You’re targeting specific gangs with phenomenal precision and results. I could help you, get it done and avoid Daredevil.”

“And what do you get out of it?”

You tilted your head side to side as you thought. Realistically, there was nothing you could really gain by helping him. And you were fine with that. Maybe you really just wanted something to do that didn’t partner you up with Daredevil. Maybe your finger was just itching for a trigger to pull.

“Nothing.” You shrugged a shoulder.

The owner came back with the equipment and unzipped the bag, allowing your eyes to scan the device until you found the serial number. You read the number over three or four times to commit to memory to make it easier to connect to later if you had to. There was a quick interaction and payment before the Punisher nodded for you to follow him out.

That was by no means a confirmation of your partnership but it was something to show he was interested. The owner had been yelling other items at you and trying to get one of you to spend more money. You were both nearly out when he said something that made you sick to your stomach.

“She’s barely twelve, guaranteed.” The owner offered as you two had reached the door, causing both of you to stop in your tracks.

The Punisher held the bag out to you but you scoffed. You leaned forward and flipped the lock on the door before turning the sign to read ‘Closed’. You left your bag on one of the counters and headed back towards the owner of the shop. You heard the Punisher following behind you but you didnt let it change your stride.

You grabbed the owner’s shirtfront and ignored his pleas as you put your hand on the back of his head and slammed his face into the glass countertop. He cried out as the glass cracked but you continued to ignore it and slammed his face down again. That time his head went through the glass. You shoved him back up by his shoulders and threw your fist, driving the glass deeper into his skin and feeling it split your own knuckles. You counted off in your head, every crack of his bones until you reached twelve.

“Barely twelve, hmm?” You repeated as Exodus after shoving the man away from you. He whimpered once he heard your accent, throwing his hands up to protect his face. You placed a bloody hand on the metal frame of the counter and jumped over it. “Guaranteed?”

You landed a sharp kick to his ribs, hard enough to hear him cough all the air from his lungs. You spat in his face before pressing your shoe against the side of his head, hearing him whimper in pain and desperation. The fear left a bitter taste in your mouth that made you want to gag.

“You so much as mention an underage girl like that again, I will come back and put a bullet between your eyes. Understood?”

He frantically nodded so you lifted your shoe before swinging a hard kick to his face. The impact sent his head bouncing off the wall behind him before his whole body went limp. You stepped into the back office to clean your hands before coming back and finding the Punisher still waiting for you.

“You should’ve finished it.” He said simply as you two exited the building.

You simply scoffed in response.

“Guys like that are just gonna do it again and again until someone stops them. Permanently.”

“Maybe not always.” You tried, but you knew it wasn’t you talking. Daredevil had made you soft. Well, soft-ish.

“And the voice.” He noted in a matter-of-fact tone. “What’s with the accent? I mean, really, what’s it gonna do?”

“At least I try to keep this shit a secret.” You laughed wryly. “You might as well be a walking billboard.”

“Look, I don’t need some amateur-“

“I’ve been doing this since I was a kid.” You cut in quickly. “I’m one of the deadliest assassins to come out of the Red Room since it started. So don’t stand there and call me an amateur or so help me God, I will cut out your voice box and shove it up your ass.”

You sidestepped and spun on your heel to block him.

“Part of me knew a man like you was inevitable, a man with a big ass gun and a vendetta who thinks the law belongs to him. But if you want to avoid Daredevil and the DA’s office - which are both chasing you down with the fury of hell behind them, by the way - I’m the one you’re gonna wanna make friends with… Unless you think you can take me, Daredevil, and the DA at the same time. And I promise you, Daredevil and I are not as easy marks as the Irish or the Dogs of Hell.”

He looked you up and down and chuckled slightly. You tilted your head as you read his emotions, though there wasn’t much there. He was annoyed at your pestering but also slightly impressed by your reputation and determination at that moment. He respected you, that much was easy to tell. There was an underlying suspicion of your interest in his work, but it wasn’t enough to stop him.

“Alright.” He nodded with a smirk. “Sounds like I need you.”

“You’re damn right.” You agreed. “Last I heard the DA wants Grotto to wear a wire and meet with Brass but if I know anything about Reyes, there’s something else at play.”

“Okay. I can work my end and get information about where Brass is gonna be.”

“It’s gotta be a sting op.” You spoke slowly, letting your train of thought work as you walked. “Why else would Reyes be personally involved?” You laughed once when you put it together. “Grotto’s not a mole. He’s bait.”

“For what?”

“For you.” You pulled out your phone and called Foggy.

“Y/N, where have you been? Reyes has practically chewed my head off every time and I could’ve used your help.” He said as soon as he answered. “I was hoping you were gonna come back.”

“I heard.” You replied, somewhat regretfully. “I’m sorry. I was at Matt’s and he was going through a whole thing and just…”

“He okay?”

“It’s Matt… He hasn’t been okay since college, maybe. Anyway, I need the details about Grotto’s meeting with Brass.”

“You’re gonna actually be there?” He accused and you frowned, knowing he was right.

“That’s the plan.”

“I’ll text it all to you.” He said and you could tell there was a hesitation, something else he wanted to say. You glanced at your new partner - who wasn’t looking at you - and took a few steps away.

“Go on… Say it.” You urged and he sighed. “I know there’s something bothering you so just lay it out there. You and me. Right now.”

“You’re just…”

“Fog?”

“Everything you’ve been doing lately, the leaving and the excuses… I’ve seen it all before and if you’re doing what they're doing then I- I can’t have you both doing that.”

“What are you talking about?” You pressed. “Foggy, what’s going on?”

He sighed before answering. “Nothing, it’s- It's nothing. Just tell me you aren’t doing something that’s gonna get you in trouble or get you hurt.”

“I promise I’m fine, okay? I’m not doing anything I can’t handle.”

“Just cause you can handle it doesn’t mean it’s smart.” He countered.

You clicked your tongue and pressed your lips together to hide your smile. “You got me there.” You admitted and he laughed. “Text me everything about Grotto and I’ll do what I can.”

“Sure… And Y/N?”

“Yeah?”

“… We love you.”

“We?” You chuckled. “You and Karen?”

“And Matt.”

Your heart jumped and your smile faded.

“Yeah, I know… I love you guys too.”

“Be careful. There’s been too many close calls lately.”

“Don’t worry about me. I’ll see you later.”

You ended the call and met back with the Punisher - you’d have to ask his real name later. You two walked until your phone buzzed with a text from Foggy. There wasn’t much other than a time and place. Your new friend only said that he would see you there before you parted ways.

Made you wonder how long you two would really last, but given that you and Daredevil didn’t last long at all, you didn’t expect much. Regardless of that, you made your way to your apartment and began thinking of how you would approach the meeting.

Foggy expected you to be there and you had a responsibility to Nelson and Murdock. You had a paying job to do. The problem then became that if you went as Y/N, you wouldn’t have time to sneak away, change, and meet with the Punisher in time. You’d have no excuse to leave. And if DA Reyes was there, you’d have one hell of a time getting away without her breathing down your neck.

Exodus it was.

You had your mask hooked up to your tablet and were downloading some of the recent footage to go through later. Not that you expected much of value, but maybe it could be put to use creating a filter to blur Daredevil’s face if he ever wanted to take his helmet off around you. You ignored the texts from Foggy about you showing up and even ignored Karen’s call. She texted and asked you not to do anything stupid, but it was too late. You were already committed.

You changed into your suit, pausing as you were pulling on the plated jacket from Daredevil. You looked down at the engraved ‘E’ on either wrist plate, scratching lightly at the red stain with your thumbnails. The residue of that night never quite left, the night you two took down Fisk.

The blood was still there, stained on the edges of the plates. The scars on your face that hid behind the edge of your mask. The memory of how much rage was flooding your system, the pure red haze you were seeing though. Everything was tunnel vision that night. But you had been forced to pull your punches, forced to take a step back, forced to let him live. You still weren’t sure if you were mad at Daredevil for that or a bit thankful.

You had wanted to be better after all. Daredevil was helping you get there. Were you only mad that he was holding you accountable? Mad that he saw something in you that you didn’t - not always? Or maybe you were just mad at how good he was, knowing that you’d never be that way.

You shoved your arms through and forced the thoughts out of your head. You had a job to do.

You were Exodus.

You weren’t a hero.

So you dawned your mask and met with the Punisher. You two were on the roof, watching the scene below. You watched Grotto’s hesitation as he wandered the lot, felt his absolute terror that he tried to cover. You almost felt bad for the man your office was supposed to help as you watched the diesel plow through the gates. The Punisher moved to the top of the water tower while you waited underneath. You didn’t need to be there while he took the shot.

You listened in on the police chatter, interrupted by a call from Foggy. A call from Karen. It made you realize there was no call from Matt, but you guessed he hadn’t gone either. You didn’t have much time to dwell on it before you heard the clatter of metal on metal and the Punisher came flying off the water tower.

You cursed to yourself and ducked back, reaching for your belt. You thought quickly about what to grab but the brilliant blue glow of your Bite distracted you, not to mention the sniper shots. You kept low to the ground as you came out but were quick to disarm your Bite. The snipers had put holes in the water tower which meant the water made your electricity that much dangerous, and you realized it was only Daredevil.

You slid on the side of your leg and swept Daredevil’s legs as the Punisher came in hard with one of Daredevil’s batons. Your move was just in time to get him out of the way. You glared up at the Punisher and were ignored as he swung the baton downwards. You pulled yourself up to a kneel and crossed your arms above your head, allowing the baton to smack the plates. The impact pushed your arms into your head and you groaned as you wobbled on your knee.

“We don’t have time for this.” You said firmly, flipping your hands around the baton to snatch it from the Punisher.

You threw it to the side and got to your feet.

“Ex?” Daredevil spoke through heavy breaths, clearly disoriented.

“Shut up.” You spat over your shoulder.

“Who’s side are you on again?” He challenged with a squint.

Before you could answer, you heard the radio in your implant.

‘Take the shot. Repeat, take the shot.’

Your eyes widened for a second before you moved. You dropped to your stomach just as the gunshots came again. You aimed your wrist for the Punisher’s ankles and shot a wire, yanking hard to pull him to his back. You twisted to find Daredevil, seeing that he had dropped the same as you did.

You felt the yank on your arm and looked up to see the Punisher unwrapping the wire and throwing it to the side. The two began their brawl again, seemingly unfazed by the gunshots.

“Идиоты.” You grumbled as you made your way across the roof. (Idiots.)

You realized the two were close to a ledge and you remembered seeing a glass skylight earlier. With hope you were in the right spot, you ran at them. You kept an arm up to block gunshots - though your hip was grazed - and tackled them down. You felt Daredevil’s arms wrap around your waist as he turned so you would land on top of him.

You were shocked that he would prioritize your safety over his given your foul treatment of him lately, but there wasn’t much time to dwell on it.

The impact jarred you all and the pressure of your body landing on his only ignited the burn in your hip. As you all shakily got to your feet, you pressed a palm against it and winced at the pain.

“Можете ли вы вдвоем отрезать дерьмо на две чертовы минуты, чтобы мы могли снять полицейских со спины?” You nearly yelled, aggressively pointing a finger to the ground to prove a point. Your other hand was growing hotter at your hip and you could’ve sworn you smelt the searing skin. (Can you two cut the shit for two fucking minutes so we can get the cops off our backs?)

“Tell that to your little boyfriend.” The Punisher scoffed, though you doubted he knew what you said.

“Why are you so obnoxious?” You groaned before turning to Daredevil. You noticed he was wobbling on his feet, holding his head.

You quickly tried to remember if he had hit his head. Surely the impact would’ve made his head bounce up and hit yours, but you hadn’t felt anything. It must’ve been residual from when the Punisher shot him, you realized. You reached out for him but were shoved aside, the Punisher taking your place and kicking out at Daredevil’s chest.

The motion sent him backwards and he hit his head on the wall behind him before slumping down. You glared at your partner, who now gave you an expectant look. You groaned and moved closer, throwing one of Daredevil’s arms over your shoulders.

“You’re a dick.” You muttered as you two carried the unconscious vigilante, you desperately trying to push through your limp.

“Cause you’re some saint, right?” He chuckled. He glanced over and saw the blood leaking down your leg and his stride slowed, so casually that you barely noticed at first.

“Where are we taking him?” You rolled your eyes but got no answer.

The place, you soon found out, was nothing more than a random apartment building as far as you were concerned. The roof of the random building, to be specific. You refused to help chain Daredevil up, stepping to the side to acknowledge the aggressive stinging at your side. The bullet caught you just below where your belt sat, an irritated and bright red line that left the area sticky and wet with blood. You pulled some gauze from your belt and stuffed it under the hole of your suit, clenching your jaw as you pressed down.

“Hey.” You breathed once you got the bleeding to stop. “You speak Russian?”

“No, why?” The Punisher answered, though he didn’t pay much attention to you as he finished his chain project.

“Seemed like you knew what I said earlier.” You shrugged.

He chuckled slightly as he finished the lock. He made his way over to you and knelt beside you, carefully reaching for your newest wound. He pulled the gauze away and pressed around the opening, causing you to wince and smack at his hands as new blood bubbled out.

“I just figured you were talking shit.” He shrugged with a lazy but amused smile. “It’s not too bad. Does it hurt still?”

“Yes but no, more so when I walk on it.” You answered with a sight wince as you scooted further back to lean against the air vent behind you. “It’s just a graze though, doesn’t need stitches or anything. I’ll be fine.”

“You’re pretty tough.” He shrugged before leaning over for a small kit. “Anyone else probably would’ve dropped and not gotten up… Let alone tackle us down - what was it - two stories.”

“You guys are like two dogs fighting… Neither of you were gonna stop until something distracted you. Hence, a two story fall.”

He reached for your leg again, one hand behind your knee and the other on your shin. He pushed on your shin to bend your leg before he pinched the skin together. You let out a yelp as the two sensitive edges touched but you simply tightened your hands into fists while the Punisher meticulously placed butterfly closures.

“You have a name?” You asked when he finished, backing off so you could replace the gauze and tape it on. “Can’t really call you the Punisher forever.”

“Do you?” He retorted.

You offered a lazy smile and noticed the bullet wound on his arm. You climbed up to your knees and grabbed the needle and thread from the kit. You began to close his wound without saying anything and he didn’t try to stop you, even though you could tell his instinct was to pull away and do it himself.

“They say you don’t hear the bullet that gets you… Always thought it was bullshit till now.” He said, grimacing as you pulled the stitch.

“It is.” You nodded, focusing on the movement of your fingers. “Well, for me at least. I’ve heard every shot taken at me. They usually miss… Couple get lucky, I won’t lie. Learned the hard way to pay attention to everything.” You shrugged casually.

“What about you, Red?” The Punisher called, turning his head towards Daredevil. You hadn’t realized he was awake. “The other night when I cracked off your forehead, did you hear that?”

You tugged the next stitch hard and he glared at you. You raised your brows in a slight challenge as Daredevil thrashed against the chains. He nodded with a small smirk and raised his free hand in surrender.

“You can pull on those chains all night.” Your accent found you as you warned Daredevil before tying off the thread and biting off the rest. Your thumb ran over the now closed wound and you nodded in satisfaction. Not your best work but still pretty clean, given there wasn’t a ton of light on the rooftop.

“Only way you get out of here is if we let you.”

“We?” Daredevil scoffed. “You’re with him now?”

“You didn’t leave me much choice.” You rolled your eyes.

“Don’t give me that.” He shook his head. “There’s always a choice.”

“Not for me. Not after what you did. You’re lucky you’re even alive.”

“You didn’t take my mask off… Why?” Daredevil spoke, his expression hidden as he turned to you.

“Don’t give a shit who you are.” The Punisher answered.

“Not you. Her.”

You moved closer to your former partner, a slight limp in your stride. He must’ve noticed that your footsteps sounded different because you were hit with a brief feeling of concern, concern for you and your well-being. Part of you wanted to assure him that you were okay, that you just got nicked, but the bigger part didn’t care if he was worried. Sure, he was your friend - maybe - and your old partner, but those days were over.

Exodus and Daredevil were done.

You dropped beside him and his hand went searching for yours, despite his limited reach. You sighed to yourself and gave him your hand, just to be kind. A weakness, you knew, that only he could manage to create in you. His fingers wrapped around yours tightly and through both of your gloves, you felt that relief - the familiarity - jolt through your fingers.

It made you think that maybe Exodus and Daredevil didn’t have to be done. But which of you would change for the other? Which would break first?

“How do you know I didn’t?” You countered after a seemingly eternal silence as your thoughts had been processing. “When he shot you in the head, I was there… All night. I saw him do it. I could’ve seen your face then while I waited for your friend to show.”

“No, I don’t think you did.” He said softly and tilted his head towards you.

You wondered why he didn’t believe you. Maybe it was the fact that he knew the identity secrecy was your idea, how adamant you were that you two couldn’t know anything about each other.

But didn’t you want to know? The power you could have over him, the way he would have to beg for you to keep his secret. The way he would have to give control of his future to you. Didn’t you want that?

So really.. Why didn’t you look that night? Why waste time waiting on the roof?

Maybe it was just out of respect, a professional courtesy.

“Why would you say that?” You asked in the same low tone.

“You’re not one to give away your leverage.” He nearly smiled. “And I know you, Ex. This guy-“ He shook his head. “He’s not who you wanna be. He’s not-“

“You done over there, Princess?” The Punisher called suddenly.

You turned and saw him already looking at you with an amused smile and raised brows. You flipped him off and he chuckled.

“Call me that again and I’ll shoot you myself.” You said firmly.

You realized then just how often moments like that went with Daredevil. One of you would crack the other’s exterior, get a glimpse of the person under the masks and under the costumes. Only for reality to snap you back like elastic, pulling you out of that instance of peace and back into the fight. Back into the brawl. Into the blood.

You shook the realization and focused on keeping the men on the rooftop calm. You drummed your fingers against your leg, watching little white waves come from the light impact. They floated across the roof before dissipating and you felt irritation brewing, but it remained at a manageable level.

“You’ve killed everyone else… Why am I still alive?” Daredevil announced. “I’ve gotten in your way twice now. Her, I get.” He nodded to you and you rolled your eyes. The fact that he thought he had some insight into your logic made you want to shoot him yourself. “But you don’t seem like the kind of guy to just let that happen.”

“You should stop instigating.” You announced, pushing to stand. “You’re nosy, always have been. It’s gonna land you in a bad situation one day.”

“One like this?” The Punisher joked.

“Oh, yeah. Maybe.” You nodded before shrugging. “Hell, maybe one worse.”

“Military grade hardware.” Daredevil continued. You scoffed and crossed the roof. “And you carry yourself like a soldier… What are you gonna do with all this?”

“I’ll do what’s required.” The Punisher answered.

“Y’know I’ve heard that line before. That you have to do it and you’re what they deserve.” Daredevil chuckled bleakly and turned his attention to you, only for a second. “But you’re wrong. You’re wrong because it’s not-“

“Not this again.” You groaned. “You think you’re better than him - better than me - because you keep some moral high ground. And I’m tired of it! I’m tired of trying to be different, to be like you. Because I’m not and it’s exhausting to try.”

“How many does this make?” He yelled past you, though the Punisher was ignoring him. Your new partner offered you his thermos and you staggered over to see what it was. “Ten, maybe twenty times? How long has it been? Your whole life?”

“Nosy bastard.” You grumbled and sat beside the Punisher, sniffing the open thermos before taking a tentative sip.

“No one else has to die.” Daredevil continued. “You can stop now, walk away.”

“Walk away?” The Punisher repeated as you handed back his thermos. “Could you do that? Could you walk away?”

Daredevil was quiet.

“I tried.” Your voice filled the silence, though it sounded distant as you spoke. Your eyes remained fixated on a suddenly interesting crack in the concrete. “I’ve had to leave people behind and I thought I could walk away… Hang up these little bracelets and the suit and just be myself, live a normal life. But it never worked. I was always drawn back in because someone was trying to kill me. Or threaten people I cared about. Now they don’t get the chance.”

The church bells tolled, dramatically punctuating your words.

“Midnight.” You nodded and lifted your eyes, seeing the Punisher on the side of the roof.

“You gettin’ tired, Princess?” He teased, making you pick up a nearby rock and throw it at the back of his head.

“St. Matthew’s.” The Punisher chuckled as he looked in the direction of the church.

“You a Catholic?” Daredevil asked in gentle shock.

The Punisher looked to you. You shrugged slightly since it didn’t change anything for you. So was Matt and so was Daredevil. What did you care?

Matt and Daredevil… Hmm.

His attention flipped to Daredevil for a second before focusing back on his original task.

“Once.” He said simply.

“From New York?”

“Once.”

“You still go to Mass?”

“Stop it, Red. Stop digging.”

You listened quietly as Daredevil spoke. He spoke of New York with such tenderness, a deeper understanding of the city and how it affects people. He was quick to try and get your partner to open up, though those attempts were quickly shot down.

But you found that Daredevil’s voice was… different this time. He wasn’t speaking with the usual low gruffness he usually used. He wasn’t trying to be intimidating or cold. He was just talking but it was extremely familiar. The comfort you felt as you digested his voice - not his words - was something that you had only felt around Matt, Marc, Steven, and Natasha when you were younger.

But who exactly was he?

“You gotta be somethin’ when you’re not wearing the long johns.” The Punisher teased.

Daredevil glanced at you and it made you wonder if you were the only reason he didn’t outright say it, in that moment at least. “I’m just a guy.”

You zoned out of their conversation after that. They continued to antagonize each other in hopes of getting a confession. You paid it no real mind until you realized your new partner was gesturing to you as he spoke. By the time you focused in, his point was made and he was coming to sit beside you again.

“Why am I here?” Daredevil simply asked.

“Your way doesn’t work, in case you hadn’t noticed.” You chimed in. “I’ve told you before that you have to finish them, not just knock them on their ass.”

“So what he’s doing is better?” He asked bitterly. “You can’t trade lives.”

“What we do is out of necessity.” The Punisher clarified, earning a scoff from Daredevil.

“You’re not the only one, you know.” Daredevil pressed. “C’mon, who did you lose? Or you, Exodus? Huh? Someone you loved? Boo-hoo.” He mocked.

You shook your head and pushed yourself up while he continued to talk. There wasn’t much thought behind your actions other than a sparking anger in your chest, a burning disbelief that he could be so nonchalant about loss. You moved to kneel in front of Daredevil, silencing his words. You pulled your arm back and threw a right hook to his jaw.

“Loss doesn’t work the same for everyone, Red.” Your new partner chuckled.

Another punch. How dare he sit there and mock loss.

“We don’t pick what fixes us.”

Another punch. What did he know about what you’ve lost? What you’ve had to give up.

“Makes us whole.”

Another. Daredevil knew nothing. He could never understand the depth of your loss.

“Gives us purpose.”

One more hit before crossing the roof again. You heard Daredevil spit, likely a collection of blood. You huffed loudly as you sat back down, rubbing your tender leg.

“What kinda name is The Devil of Hell’s Kitchen, anyway?” The Punisher continued.

“Quit instigating.” You groaned.

“I didn’t choose that name.” Daredevil defended.

“You’re not exactly running from it.” The Punisher urged as he gestured to the horns.

“I don’t do this to hurt people.”

“No? So what? It’s just a job perk?”

“You once said ‘I’m doing this because I enjoy it’ before putting a man in a coma.” You cut in quickly. “You burned and resuscitated a man that I could’ve killed and saved so much trouble. You saved a man who you called a cancer to this city when I had him on his knees, about to beg for his life. You’ve sent men to the hospital with broken limbs, comas, and one coughing fit away from their deaths. You cause more pain than we do.”

“I don’t kill anyone.” Daredevil reasoned but you were hit with a wave of his uncertainty, a wave of his disappointment.

“Is that why you think you’re better than us?” The Punisher scoffed. “That why you think you’re a big hero?”

“It doesn’t matter what I think or what I am.” He argued.

“What you think matters when it comes to me.” You accused firmly. “Then your opinion is the only one that matters.”

“People don’t have to die.”

“You believe that?” The Punisher scoffed.

“He does.” You sighed in annoyance as Daredevil answered “I believe it’s not my call and it ain’t yours either.”

“Deciding if they live is the same as deciding if they die!” You countered loudly, vividly remembering the first night you two met. “I’m tired of the same shit from you, day after day. Night after night, since I got back here! You put that costume on. You decided you were gonna beat the shit out of people and try to scare them straight.”

The Punisher pushed himself to his feet and you waved a hand. He helped you up and allowed you to limp ahead of him to Daredevil, almost as if he was making sure you didn’t need or ask for help. You knelt down and the Punisher was beside you.

“Guess what, Сорвиголова? It. Doesn’t. Work.” You said firmly. (Guess what, Daredevil?)

“I think you’re a half-measure.” Your partner pressed and you chuckled. “I think you’re a man who can’t finish the job. I think you’re a coward… And you know the one thing you can’t see? You’re one bad day away from being me.”

“He doesn��t believe you.” You sighed, dropping to sit flat. “He’ll never believe you. He thinks his faith in God and belief in second chances will keep him on the right path.”

“Someone’s coming.” Daredevil said, choosing to ignore you.

“I’ll say this once. You make one sound and I’ll open his head all over this roof.” The Punisher warned.

“Hey.” You said, reaching for his arm as he stood. “That guy has nothing to do with this. Don’t.”

“Better keep him quiet then.”

While the Punisher - Frank - spoke to the owner of the building, you stayed beside Daredevil. He continued to struggle and strain against the chains until you had enough. You leaned forward and positioned your knee between his legs, the other foot on the outside of his hip. You slammed your forearm against his chest and pressed your other wrist to his throat while the blue of your Bite shone. He let out a groan as he hit the wall behind him.

“Why are you doing this?” He asked you softly, nearly a whisper though his voice found the gruffness you were used to. “Why are you working with him?”

“Shut up.” You muttered, not looking at him.

“Exodus, come on. You’re better than this.”

“How would you know?” You faced him. Your eyes traced the hastily repaired line down his helmet, remembering the night it happened and the one who found him the next day. “How long have you known Franklin Nelson?”

“You know him?” He didn’t bother hiding his shock. “You really did stay that night…”

“Is he why you cared about Y/N?” You continued on your newest suspicion that arose from that night. That maybe you knew him outside the suits already. “When she was attacked by the Russians.”

Everything about him seemed to soften when you said your name. But it only made you more on edge. How did he know you? And who was he to you that the simple mention of your name, the simple thought of you, was enough to practically melt him?

“She-“ He began gently though Frank was already coming back. You moved to Daredevil’s side as your partner came into view. “You get off threatening innocent people?”

“Listen carefully, okay?” Frank said angrily as he came and pressed his gun to Daredevil’s forehead. “You listening? Feel it?”

Your old friend didn’t cower or move away, rather pressing his forehead against the gun. You hopped up as quickly as you could and pulled your own gun, pointing it at Frank.

“Drop it.” You said firmly. “Or I swear to God, Frank, I’ll put a bullet in you before you can thumb the hammer.”

He glanced over and saw your stance not faltering. He nodded slightly before taking a couple steps back and lowering the gun. You hesitantly did the same but kept an eye on Frank’s hand for a moment longer.

“You still gonna defend him? Despite the shit he’s been talking all night and the high horse he rides around on?” Frank challenged.

“I’ll suffer my own consequences for it later.” You shrugged. “You don’t get to kill him.”

“Fine.” He shrugged before facing Daredevil again. “I’m not a bad guy, Red. Neither is she if she’s willing to save your sorry ass.”

“You think you’re anything else?” Daredevil chuckled in disbelief.

“The people I kill need killing. That’s what I think.”

“You left men hanging from meat hooks!”

“You did what?” You asked Frank as he climbed a billboard later.

“He didn’t tell you about that?” Daredevil said in amusement.

“Neither did you if you found them like that.” You said over your shoulder.

“When was I supposed to? When you were dodging my calls?”

“Frank?” You turned away, annoyed once again with the masked vigilante.

“They got off easy in my opinion.” He reasoned from above.

“You shot up a hospital!”

“And nobody got hurt who didn’t deserve it.”

“My friend was in there.” You said firmly, thinking of how Karen screamed on the phone that night. “Would she have deserved it?”

“Don’t tell me you’re buying in to this crap.” Frank rolled his eyes.

“What happens the day someone decides you guys deserve it?” Daredevil called.

“Then they better not miss.” Frank answered simply as you replied “More than enough already did and failed.”

“You can’t treat this city like your personal shooting galleries!”

“What do you do?” You challenged. “You act like it’s a playground! You beat people up, throw them in jail and act like a hero. But guess what? They end up right back on the streets! You think what you do is better than what I’ve done? What he’s done? What happened when Wilson Fisk is back and goes after your precious little Y/N?”

That made him jerk against the chains and you smiled wickedly. Maybe you could use yourself as leverage, you realized.

“So you two will just put ‘em in the morgue, huh?” Daredevil replied bitterly.

“You’re goddamn right.” Frank said firmly, his conviction palpable.

“You ever doubt yourself?”

“Not even for a second.”

“She does.” Daredevil turned to you and your jaw tightened. “She doubted herself time and time again. And I was getting her through it. But then you come around and act no better for her than the Red R-“

“You don’t get to speak for me!” You cut in angrily, swiping a hand through the air angrily. You watched the red sparks at your fingers. “You hardly know anything about me or the Red Room so don’t throw that place around like it means anything to you.”

“I think you and me - you and her - me and her, we’re all the same.” Frank explained as he came to sit in front of Daredevil again. “You hit them and they get back up. We hit them and they stay down. Permanently. We make sure they don’t make it out in the street again.”

“What about hope?”

“You wanna talk about Santa Claus?” Frank mocked and you almost laughed.

“It’s real, Frank. It is. It’s real and it’s possible. She used to believe in it too, in redemption. Isn’t that what you wanted when you got here?”

“That’s what you thought I wanted.” You clarified calmly. “I gave up believing in that a long time ago and I told you that.”

“The people you kill deserve a chance.”

“What? To kill again?” You scoffed. “To kidnap another kid? To sell another girl into whatever hellscape will give the most money? You want that on your conscience?”

“To try, Ex. They deserve to try again. And if you don’t believe that anymore then there’s something in you that can’t be fixed.”

“Let me ask you something”. You knelt beside Frank to be eye level with Daredevil and you felt a sadistic urge tingling down your spine. “If Anatoly or Vladimir or even Fisk himself had killed Y/N because… Because they still thought she was me or they found out she had ties to you, would you let them off with a coma? With broken limbs or a fractured frontal bone.” You tapped the forehead of his helmet. “Broken nose, maybe. Or would you kill them? Would you make sure they never hurt another innocent girl?”

He said nothing but his emotions said everything. He didn’t know what he would do. He couldn’t say with certainty that he wouldn’t kill them, but he wasn’t sure he could bring himself to do it. Even for Y/N.

“Exactly.” You scoffed.

“You do this, Ex, you stick with him… And you’ll have to kill me this time around because I won’t stop coming for you until I take you down.” Daredevil continued.

“You’re giving me a goddamn ultimatum.” You chuckled in realization. “Are you that desperate?”

“I know there’s goodness in you, Ex. Even in you, Frank.”

“Опять не это..” You groaned and stood. (Not this again.)

Once you had moved, Frank knocked out Daredevil.

“And you used to work with this guy?” He asked you.

You shrugged. “He used to be easier to get along with.”

“How’s your leg?” He asked and knelt beside Daredevil and began fiddling with the chains. “That little limp’s getting more noticeable.”

“It’s just tender.” You admitted as you hobbled across the roof and sat with your back against the ledge. “I need to pick a place and stay there.”

He chuckled. “Can I ask you something?” He called out, not looking away from his new project.

“Sure.”

“The hell is the Red Room?”

“Place I was raised. Trained since I was a kid. Espionage, martial arts, weaponry, ballet, gymnastics, foreign language, culture, computers. Pretty much everything. They offered my parents money when I was a baby but Mom said no. We ran for a few months till Dad got tired of it. He went behind Mom’s back and sold me off a little after I turned one… And they’re still together.”

“That’s some heavy shit.” He nodded.

“You have no idea.” You agreed and your fingers went to where the Red Room emblem sat in your suit, though it was covered by the top from Daredevil. “And you… Marine, huh? Couldn’t have been easy.”

“Sounds like we both got a short end of the stick.” He said casually.

“Yet we both ended up here… Wonder why.”

“You believe in that?”

“I think there’s a point in the people you meet.” You shrugged, eyes landing on Daredevil for a second. “You think everything's a coincidence?”

“I just think shit happens the way it happens.” He said plainly.

“Simple.” You nodded.

“I’m not exactly the showy type like this guy.” He shook Daredevil by one of his horns and you chuckled.

“He’s not always so high and mighty, yknow.” You said honestly. “But you’re right. He is a half-measure.”

“I’ll be right back.” Frank said and disappeared into the building. “Got a little something for him…”

You craned your neck to see what he had done and saw a slight reflection off some duct tape. But what really caught your attention was the gun beneath the tape.

What the hell was he up to?

Daredevil began to stir not long after Frank left. But he was quick to come back with another man in tow.

“Caught this bastard trynna steal a car and skip town.” Frank explained as he threw Grotto to his knees.

“Grotto.” You gasped and tried to make your way over.

“He doesn’t deserve to die because you caught him stealing cars! It’s up to the law, not me or you or her!” Daredevil practically pleaded when he realized there was nothing he could do.

“Tell him a little bit about yourself.” Frank said in annoyance.

“I’m nobody, I swear.” Grotto pleaded.

“No? Lafayette Street, second floor. Tell him what happened.”

“What did you do?” You asked Grotto. You thought about that street but couldn’t remember any stories about it.

“I’m sorry! I’m sorry, please!”

“What. Did you. Do.” You asked again, flexing your hand to wake your Widow’s Bite.

“Say it.” Frank pressed, punctuating his words with a right hook.

“Okay! I killed him! I put two in his head!” Grotto cried desperately. “I- I couldn’t say no! I couldn’t! I’m sorry! But I didn’t- I didn’t know the old lady was in the house!”

“What old lady?” Daredevil asked quickly.

“She started screaming and I begged her to stop… She saw my face. I had to!”

Your jaw clenched and you fired your Bite at his chest, causing Grotto to scream in pain.

“I’m not gonna shoot him.” Daredevil shook his head.

“Then I will.” You shrugged and drew your gun. “Unless you wanna kill me to stop me.” You teased.

“Don’t you dare!”

“Why not?” You laughed, a manic and bubbling sound that was oh so familiar to the teasing laugh you used on Red Room missions. “He’ll kill again. How many old ladies - or what if it’s a kid next time? Do you wanna live with that? Cause I won’t.”

“It won’t bring anyone back!”

“No… But it’ll keep him from hurting anyone else.”

“Shoot him!” Frank insisted. “Shoot him or shoot her. Either way you’re a killer.”

“Ты такой же, как и я, независимо от того, что ты выберешь.” You said firmly, knowing Daredevil wouldn’t shoot you. (You’re just like me, no matter what you choose.)

Instead, Daredevil shot the lock that held the chains in place. Upon hearing the gun fire, you pulled your own trigger and shot Grotto in the chest. Immediately after, Daredevil tackled you to the ground, your head bouncing off the concrete and your gun clattering away. Daredevil had one knee pinning an arm and the other was pinned by his foot as he began throwing punches, the gun still taped in his hand. You dodged what you could and found an opening to awkwardly aim your Bite towards his neck. You shot the burst quickly and he fell off of you, though the throbbing of fresh bruises remained.

Frank came to your side and helped you to sit. He carefully tilted your face to either side as he examined the blossoming lumps. You waved him off and wiped your sleeve across your face, clearing the blood from your nose and ignoring the pain. Your vision was blurry, head pounding as you shakily crossed the roof for your gun.

He took a second to lean over the ledge and fire across the street. Frank was quick to jump into the fight with Daredevil when he charged you again. You were loading your wire at your wrist when Daredevil knocked Frank unconscious.

“This is really who you wanna be?” He called to you as you got to your unsteady feet. “Last I heard, you were tired of killing.”

“Это уже то, кто я есть.” You grinned, despite the blood in your mouth. “Я просто больше не притворяюсь.” (It’s already who I am. I’m just not pretending anymore.)

You tumbled messily over the ledge and hastily shot your wire to catch your fall. You landed awkwardly and wobbled on your feet all the way back to your apartment. Once inside, you were quick to strip out of your suit and sit on the floor of your shower. You couldn’t even think how you were gonna cover your beating for work the next morning.

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boxwinebaddie · 5 months

Note

Does parental trauma run in the CD family

hoooooooooooooooooooo you know it baby! ;)

ok before i begin the cd boys are just #traumabonded from being in CD together...its not as fun or cool as it looks i swear...ill just say that. those four boys...my sons...everything and more for them...angels <3

but in the Parental Traumalypics

ravenstan wins for...Obvious Reasons.

somebody call 9-1-1 shawty fire burnin on the dancefloor ooOhwoOahooh

like when i tell you that man endured Horrors and he is my baby my baby my BABY!!! i would fight dirty 4 all the ncu styles and their loved ones...but ravenstan...i would to jail for life its what he DESERVES!!! when we finally get a raven pov flashback???? HAPPY MENTAL ILLNESS DAY EVERYONE! not a dry eye in this house! WHEW!

kyle is probably second but he is not cd but thats okay because KENNY????? IN RM?????? WHOOOOOO!!! ALSO HELL!!!!!!! THEY HAVE ALSO LIVED THRU SOME SHIT!!! AND NEVER DIE!!! SO THEY JUST KEEP LIVING THROUGH IT!!!! but no kennys relationship with their parents and like specifically darling karen is dramatic and traumatic there is a lot going on there but we gotta get to it

so i will be honest i did not flesh out the other cd boys...home lives as much as i wanted to because i was so focused on stan and kyle and getting those right...so coming soon! xx

jimmy from what i am meagerly piecing together had an OK upbringing and parents that "looked after him" but i think found his disability shameful and secretly kind of felt burdened by having a child who needed so much medical care? like emotionally and financially?

i think they probably saw him more as a way to get sympathy, sort of treated him like an object/joke sometimes...and the saddest people are often the funniest so i think he sort of ran with "well if everyones laughing with you, theyre not laughing at you" :( jimmy my beloved im so...but i would say there's trauma there. FS!!!!

can't say too much abt the cd guitarist ( i also am still working on him shhhh ) but he had at least one positive guardian/parental figure. also felt like he had a lot to prove, so a lot of...pressure. but i love him sm

as for the blondies gayng....KYLE???? JERSEY KYLE???????? for the fucking gaslighting that was done to him THE LITERAL LIGHTING UP OF HIS BEST FRIEND SUPPOSEDLY??? KYLE NEEDS FINANCIAL COMPENSATION UPWARDS ONE MILLION DOLLARS FOR THE PSYCHOLOGICAL TORTURE HE ENDURED JFC!!!!

also like sheila i love you sheils but she is so crazy like she is neurotic she loves kyle and kyle loves her but she definitely made kyle anxious about everything like even before stan died sheila set him up to fail...and UH GERALD ACTUALLY SET KYLE UP TO FAIL BECAUSE HE GAVE HIM UNREASONABLE STANDARDS AND NEGLECTED AND LOOKED DOWN ON HIM FOR NOT MEETING THEM AAAA gerald was openly cruel to kyle....gerald please FUCKING die! thx!

randy x gerald x burning in hell forever <3

uhhhh bebe...bebes parents love her and think shes perfect but they....do not know shes camming or that she likes women...so thats gonna be...very interesting for her...she is also still in the works 4 me

as we know stephen and linda stotch DIE FOREVER marj literally does not have parents right now because they actually disowned her like now shes rich bc of cd ( they saved her life ) but before that all of the blondies house was working 74937493 as many shifts to cover marjs rent because they love her and her parents cut her off ily marj

dont...ask me abt creek....im sorry...u know im still gathering data

but? uh clearly tweeks home life was BAD clearly he is recovering from being secretly fed METH??????? HELLO BITCH????

and i actually think that growing up craig was on serious outs with his parents ( was it the autism?? ) but now hes actually very close with them. also, awawawww, they basically adopted tweek and call him son and everything <333 im crying tricia also loves tweek...so actually craigs trauma is mild i think...wow...amazing...nature is healing

....but he is on Stripe number....709327493274 tho...like he just replaces them and theyre always stripe...im crying...are u okay baby

but to answer your question...yes...yes it does.

ITS ALWAYS DARKEST BEFORE CRIMSON DAWN, LITERALLY BECAUSE THEIR EXISTENCES WERE BLEAK! <3 SLAY OLAY

-uncle nina, ceo of traumatizing sp characters

#sorry if this is unreadable i did my best #i am still working on a lot of the backstories #BUT ITS BC RM HAS SO MANY SIDE CHARACTERS #AND ITS HARD TO FOCUS ON THEM BC RAVENSTAN AND JERSEY KYLE NEED MY FULL ATTENTION #but dawg...raven...every part of his life...he can joke abt kwording himself all he wants he fucking earned it he did his dues #like he deserves peace and if he wants to have a raeger bomb wear his silly outfits and call kyle spanish pet names to relax he can do that #he has my permission for the horrors hes seen #kyle also can do whatever he wants bc he is in a prison of the mind and thinks hes clinically insane when hes actually the sanest person #like he is SOOOO CASSANDRA CODED like no one will listen to him everyone thinks hes a basketcase but hes RIGHt #ok kennys backstory is really interesting i cant really talk abt it but i can say its fucking sad and i cry buckets of blood for them #ok jimmys also made me sad i luv him i never thought abt it wow #NOT THOMAS AND LAURA ADOPTING TWEEK NOT CRAIG ADOPTING A NEW STRIPE EVERYTIME ONE DIES #THAT MADE ME LAUGH IM SORRY HE WONT TELL U ONE DIED EITHER U JUST SEE ONE LOOK SLIGHTLY DIFFERENT KSHLSD

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theconfusedartist · 8 months

Text

Before Penn Station [permutation 1] Ch. 2

Hi guys! I finally managed to get this done! I hope that you all like this chapter, and I replied to the person on ff.net. I wasn't sure if I should also give the reply to the concerns here too, but I'll answer here in the notes too.

Here's the chapter below the cut!

After shoving his way through an entire crowd, Alex doubles back as fast as he can, ducking around a corner then back over the rear entrance of Bad Weather. Ignoring the irritated and outraged looks he got as he ran past people, he quickly started scaling the nearest building, eyes alert for Desmond's telltale presence.

He managed to catch a glimpse of it as Desmond teleported (because what else do you call it when someone straight up disappears in broad daylight?) somewhere else, a low computer noise the only thing he left behind. Alex felt his lips pull as his mouth widened to a cheek-to-cheek grin.

He'd been just a bit late, but he'd managed to find Desmond as he was escaping, and he was only getting better at it.

Satisfied, Alex climbed back down in the nearby alleyway, dusting off his hands and wiping off the debris in his (what used to be) white hoodie. He didn't have any work to do, since today was a field-testing day, and Dana told him she'd be occupied for the better part of the day before doing some other things she had to take care of. His apartment was already clean and the idea of laying down to sleep was repulsive at this point.

Which meant he only had one other option, since he wasn't nearly desperate enough to call up his insane boss for company. Karen.

Hopefully, she was in a good mood today—he really didn't want to hear her talking about her murder scrapbook. His phone was a basic Nokia brick flip, but it worked and that's all that mattered, and he didn't pay it a second thought as he called Karen.

The phone rung four times, then Karen answered with a terse, "What."

Ah. Not a good mood then. Oh well. "You free right not?"

A loud sigh, "Unfortunately. How soon are you coming over?"

Alex shoved his way back onto the sidewalk, holding his arm up for a passing cab's attention, "I'm catching a cab now."

"I'll see you shortly then."

Alex never saw any reason to make small talk with people he wasn't interested in, so after shooting down the cab drivers' initial attempts at conversation, the trip was a short and awkward one. Pushing the money at the disgruntled cabbie, he wasn't surprised when he heard the screech of tired as the car peeled out of the lot.

Karen's apartment was on the third story, no elevator to speak of, just two sets of rickety stairs with dying bushes and potted plants littered around carelessly. Karen's door was easy to puck out, the almost gothic door knocker that sat in the center of steel ivy vines above a cheery 'Welcome!' mat was a dead giveaway.

Alex slammed the door knocker once, and waited for a few seconds as the door swung open to reveal Karen, sans makeup in a light grey bathrobe, a cup of coffee in her hand. She turned back into her apartment without a greeting once she saw it was him, yawning loudly and moving to eat her breakfast of bland scrambled eggs.

"Hey, Karen." Alex greets dryly, slamming the door after walking inside and grabbing his own mug for coffee, "You look like shit."

"Coming from you, that means nothing." She chugs her first mug then blankly sets it down to grip at her second cup, already hot. "You look like you fought a bear."

Alex scoffs, "Please, none of them were big enough for that."

"So, why'd you call me anyways? Did you need help with disposal again?"

"Nah, I already took care of that." Alex's head absentmindedly touches his right coat pocket, the inner lining pressing against his shirt. "There isn't anything left for anyone to find now."

"Then why are you here?" Karen yawns again, "Seriously, if you came here to talk about that girl you've been trying to date, then you better be prepared to hear me talk about my love life."

"Finally!" Karen shots, slamming her empty cup on the counter top loudly. "Trina dumped me last night and I've been drinking coffee to stay up and reread our chat history! She blocked me." Karen glowers at Alex, "She blocked me! I'm such a catch and she blocked me!" She looks to Alex cheerlessly. "What am I doing to drive these women away, Alex? Why can't I find love?"

'Lots of reasons.' Alex thinks, but has the sense not to say out loud. "Why'd she break up with you? Was it the murder-"

"It was the murder scrapbook." Karen lets out a long drawn out groan. "I set up my bathroom as a dark room to develop my photos, and Trina decided to surprise me with some supplied because she's a photographer too, walked in and saw them! She saw all my latest murder shots!" Karen rubs at her temples, her short blond hair choppy and ragged from it's most recent haircut. "At least she didn't scream and run like Priscilla did, but it was honestly worse. I got her to sit down see we could talk it out and she, in the nicest ans sweetest way possible because that's just how she is, told me that she was utterly repulsed by me and realized I wasn't the person she thought I was."

"Ouch."

"Yeah. I tried to convince her that this was just another part of me, y'know like a puzzle you found pieces to you didn't know existed, but she just. She walked out, Alex. And she didn't even look back, all I saw was her back and the door."

"You should find someone who isn't on the straight and narrow, Karen. I told you, you've gotta find someone who can keep up with you have going on and has their own shit going on."

"But I don't want someone who lacks morals, that's the reason I'm not dating anyone from the company, Alex."

Alex shrugs, not willing to add anything to the topic, as they'd spent many nights bitching about the absolute depravity being fostered and encouraged at Gentek. At this point, any further discussion would be beating a rotten horse.

"I just...wanna come home to a nice girl who isn't going to stab me in the back or poison me for corporate secrets. Who I can share my love of photography with, who I can share my passions with and enjoy her passions, with the benefit of rough sloppy sex! Is that too much to ask?!"

Alex shrugs, "I mean, if you asked me a few years ago, I probably would've said that you met her and the time is past. But now...I dunno, Karen. If I can run into my other half again, after fucking up my shot on three seperate occasions, there's still a chance."

Karen looks at him morosely, "You think so? You think there's still a chance?"

"Maybe. But you have to chase it, when you feel like you've met that person, otherwise you'll regret it."

"Speaking from experience?"

"Yeah." It's not said with shame or sadness. He says it so matter-of-fact that Karen has no choice but to accept it as the truth. Or at the very least, it was Alex's truth.

"Well. Ok." Karen sits up. "Thanks. You give good advice sometimes."

Alex barks a laugh, "I had to take care of Dana growing up, so I've had to give sensible advice every now and then. Just...don't expect me to do this too often."

"What, you might combust?" Karen snorts.

"Absolutely." Alex nods, but she can see the slight quirk of his lips. "I'd be nothing but meat chunks all over."

Karen laughs and a comfortable silence descends over the room. Karen is content to stare at the counter, mulling something over, while Alex gets up to get a mug from her cabinet. He already grabbed one when he came in, but it's a bland boring thing with the Gentek logo engraved on the front. He already has to deal with their bullshit on a near daily basis, swallowing from a mug with their logo almost feels like defeat. She has a couple of mugs in the cabinet that's ended up there after so many years of spending time in her space, migrated over from his apartment, and Alex chooses the familiar one with the words 'resting bitch face' on the front in black, the rest of the mug a faded crimson. Karen's coffee machine is the kind you'd find an office, but at the very least she has cream and other flavors available, for as much as she drank the stuff she wasn't all that good at roasting it.

Cup full of coffee, a spoonful of sugar and a lot of cream later, Alex returns back to the counter.

Karen sighs then taps her fingers on the counter top. "So, c'mon. Why don't you tell me about the good news?"

"What good news?"

"I mean, you sounded pretty upbeat on the phone-well for you at least. Did something go well?"

"Oh." Alex slowly grins, showing all of his teeth as it stretches from the cheek to cheek, his eyes only visible by the excited gleam. "I've been getting batter at tracking him without him being able to tell I'm near. I saw him teleporting today-and that was after he got done glowing."

Karen blows air out from her teeth, "Man, how am I supposed to take you seriously when you say shit like that? People can't glow or teleport, Alex. Do you need to take something for hallucinations or something?"

The smile oozed off his face as Alex looks down his nose at her, "This is why I rarely ever tell you thinks about him. You don't believe me."

"I mean," Karen shrugs, "You let the weirdest shit slip when you talk about him, and it sounds literally impossible. I mean-" she fumbles to gather her words. "-how am I supposed to believe you met him once, and he somehow captivated you so badly that you jumped his bones in Vermont, you somehow didn't have the sense to give him your address or phone number. Then! And this is the part that I really don't believe, but you saw him with his baby-mind you, you've literally told me that this was a guy that you slept with. Also! And this is something you told me by the way, you saw this guy eating glass and metal in a crowd without anyone else noticing. And this was somehow on the one day that you had to get a secondary copy of your dissertation to copyright the strain of virus that McMullen sold to that-who was it again?-that weird as Whister-Water-Wesky-Wesk-something dude from the company that went bankrupt and got bought up by Tricell. Mind you, you managed to see him at the exact time you were coming out, then you had to chase him down and lost him in the crowd. Literally what are the odds? I rarely ever see you lose a mark when you go hunting."

"He talks about 'the Calculations' sometimes when he's super tired or drank too much." Alex shrugs. "No idea what he means, but for some reason he says it like a title of something or an event. Won't explain it though."

"...right. Alex," Karen placles her hand on his arm. "I saw this because I care about you. Are you going crazy or something? The only person I've ever seen you chasing after is a woman, in any of the times I've been your wingwoman she's always been a dancer or a bartender, and? I've never seen her glowing or talking to another person that you've said you've seen. I really think that you might be hallucinating or something."

"He's a woman sometimes, that's all."

"He...crossdresses?"

"No."

"Then...are we even talking about the same person?"

"Who do you think I'm talking about?"

"Uh...? That girl that always wears the huge white hoodie, right?"

Alex puts a hand to his chin, "Is that the main thing that you remember him by? Do you remember anything else about him?"

"...she had really short dark hair? I dunno, Alex, she didn't really have that many distinct features and she's not all that pretty." Karen narrows her eyes, "Maybe it's just because you're biased you think she has some...beauty or whatever."

'No,' Alex thinks. 'She's not the only person that described him like this. Before I gained such a bad reputation at the bar, most patrons and employees only recognized him by the hoodie and hair.'

"Alex?" Karen waves a hand in front of him. "Alex, can you hear me?"

'Karen might've just cracked the case for me. People don't remember him as Desmond or Desiree, since he never introduces himself by either of his real names, they don't even notice the scar on his lips. Does he have some ability to hide? Is that why people only ever seem to see the hair and hoodie? If that's the case, I can use it to my advantage...'

"Alex. Alex!" Karen claps her hands once, twice, thrice. "There he goes again."

'I have a plan now. I've gathered everything to make this work, all I need to do is get Des in a romantic environment, and it'll work!'

"Karen!" Alex straightens up with a yell, smashing his hands onto the counter, startling Karen who'd been skimming a book. "You've done! That's it!"

"What's is?!"

"I figured out what I need to make him mine!"

Karen blinks, then blinks again rapidly. "H-what?"

"I'm going to get ready, Karen." Alex gives her his full toothy, cheek to cheek grin. "I greatly enjoy speaking with you. See ya!"With that he turns and strides out her apartment, making sure to close the door behind him.

Karen rolls her eyes, "Always with the dramatic entrances and exits…"

------->

Author's Notes: Karen was implying that Alex could win in a fist fight with an actual bear, but Alex was talking about the sexy gay kind. Karen has lost multiple girlfriends to her murder scrapbook, she always makes sure to cover her tracks and let her exes know that if they try to turn her in, she will kill them. Karen and Alex were dating before he entered Gentek, and she was actually his link into the company, she's on his team working on is counteragents and immunizations. Alex doesn't have that many members on his team, but the few that does all specialize in things that he doesn't work on, so he doesn't have to worry about anyone taking credit for his work.

No one has ever entered Alex's lab, it was one of the conditions that Alex made when he became a director in the company. Also, yes Karen did imply a few things about other franchises. Shout outs to all the people that recognize it.

#before penn station #fanfiction #protocreed #alex mercer #alex j. mercer #dr. mercer #uhhh #i don't know what else to tag this as #writing

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