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skullsandp0tions · 5 months ago

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the life of an outlaw is a lonely one.

(Javier Escuella x John Marston.)

CW: Alright guys so there is a lot of kissing here, and so much fluff. There’s mentions of body dysmorphia, anxiety attack, body mutilation mentioned but not committed, comfort, slight suggestive themes towards the end. And, Divorced! John Marston.

Writers note : I wanted to update my writing style a bit since I haven’t been writing for quite a bit so I’d appreciate any feedback! Also, I don’t have the ability to reply to comments or messages sadly but that is currently being dealt with !

Enjoy.

The life of an outlaw is lonely when you feel out of place. The occupation or lifestyle isn’t exactly known for its happiness and love, usually labeled as countless negative words. Whatever you can think of, chances are the outlaws have been called it.

John never intended to be an outlaw, sure his dad was an ass who died in a bar fight and he never met his prostitute mother, he got into the gang early in his life but he’d never planned to be there. As a kid he wanted to work with people, but he went the entirely opposite way. Waking up was a chore, looking himself in the mirror much worse. Having to see the scars etched into his skin on the body he couldn’t recognize, paired with the dirt under his nails and bags under his eyes, was exhausting. He always threw on the same-ish clothes, hoping they’d cover up the parts he couldn’t face, the parts of his body he’d want to carve out with a hunting knife if he could. He’d found that the black covered him up best, so that’s what he stuck with.

Javier was one of the few in the gang who seemed to notice when he was off, even if John never actually spoke about it. He tried to just pretend it was his shitty sleep schedule fucking him over but Javier knew. And John could tell. He could see it in the way the Mexican would glance at him in between his guitar strumming, could feel it in his rough palms when Javier would pat his shoulder. But unlike the usual condescending feeling that would build in his gut, Javier’s worry felt different.

There was no laughter or mocking, no judgemental glances or annoyed scoffs, just attention. And worry. It felt weird, distant, uncomfortable in its very own sense of the word. But at the same time it felt comforting, like a kind of support he wasn’t used to, the kind of support he hadn’t felt in way too long if ever.

Arthur and Dutch would try and help in their own way but it wasn’t the same . It wasn’t Javier. They could pat his back but they didn’t leave their hand on his back as if leaving a hand print etched into his spine. They didn’t put his head on their shoulders and just let him stay there. When the two of them comforted him it felt forced, awkward even. But Javier did it as if it was like breathing, as if comforting and caring for him was the easiest thing he’d ever done. And it was.

To Javier holding John was like breathing. Being allowed, no, honored to hear his breathing even for a second while he kept his head on his shoulder felt like finding an entire bag of gold bars. It was like listening to the melodies he could strum with his guitar when he heard him talk.

———————————

As the morning sun pushed its way onto the sky , bullying the moon aside to reclaim its place, John was sitting on his cot. The tent surrounding him like barriers from everything outside, but also stopping anything inside to get out. A safe way to start his morning. But even so he kept his gun by the cot on the ground, letting him quickly grab it if needed. Getting onto his feet felt like swimming up to the surface of the ocean, not that he’d know what that felt like. Sluggishly walking to the mirror in his tent, getting a short glance at the unrecognizable face in the small reflection as he put on his black everyday over-shirt, looking down at his body as he buttoned it up at the very top.

Even when he pulled on his pants he didn’t look at the mirror, trying to extend his peace of mind for just a bit longer before finally looking into the reflection and sighing. The scars on his face were still there, not that he expected them to randomly vanish with a good nights sleep, but it was a nice thought. His gray eyes stayed glued to his face, his hand moving up to slowly touch the scars on his cheek before sighing and laying the mirror down on the barrel and grabbing his brown vest and then stepping out of his tent. The morning sun cascading across his face as he put on his hat.

The camp was bustling with faint conversation and laughter, the usual loud voices lowered to let the camp members who still were sleeping, continue to do so. It was nice to not be deafened by Sean’s loud cheering or Bill’s yelling. Though he knew that would change soon enough. As he sat down at the campfire it felt like all eyes. including his own, were on him. As if even breathing was a crime.

“Y’look like shit, partner” Uncle spoke, chuckling as he drank a part of his beer despite the early hour. John scoffed in reply but the sinking feeling rose in his gut regardless. Did he really? Sure he looked shitty always but did he look shittier than normal? With one shared glance from Javier, John got back up, walking away from the campfire. He tried to make it less obvious that he was genuinely bothered, but it seemed to have been noticed anyways as someone struck uncle on the back of the head. He didn’t know where or how far he went, but he stopped when he could no longer hear the voices at camp. Slowly he sat down by the riverbank’s edge, close enough to see the way the water rushed beneath the rising sun, but not close enough to be able to touch it. If he got too close he’d see his reflection, and that wouldn’t do him any good.

His breathing already felt like a challenge, like someone had his lungs in two iron pipes, not allowing them to expand far enough. He was getting dizzy, everything was spinning, his hand gripping his shirt after tearing off his vest to try and get some more room to breathe. But even that did nothing. And the lack of air freaked him out further, he even tried to splash some water in his face but even so he felt like he was drowning. Was he dying? Was this really it?

“Hey, hey Cálmate” The sound of a very familiar voice struck his ears, but he couldn’t bring himself to look towards the sound or think about who it was, too busy trying to get his brain to work with his lungs. He needed air.

The feeling of Javier’s arms wrapping around him caused him to tense, Javier saw him? He could see his pathetic panicking? This was so embarrassing. He attempted to shove the Mexican away from him but only got met with a tighter grip.

“you’re not pushing me away, Compañero.” he spoke almost sternly, and for the first time in whoever knows how long , it didn’t piss him off. No, instead John moved his hand from his rapidly beating heart to the back of Javier’s shirt, the grip almost threatening to break the fabric.

“I can’t- I can’t breathe-“ It felt pathetic to speak with such a broken voice and such desperation, but Javier didn’t judge, and john knew he wouldn’t. Which was why he was even talking or letting him help in the first place. Abigail was the only one John had allowed to see him like this, the only one he allowed to hold him. But now there was Javier.

But Javier didn’t say anything. Instead he put his hand on the back of John’s head, cradling it against his shoulder, his other hand rubbing John’s back slowly. He didn’t say anything. Why didn’t he say anything? Was he disappointed?

He didn’t seem disappointed, he wasn’t tense or sighing, not trying to tell him to ‘man up’. He just sat there and listened, rubbed his back and just nodded.

“I’m here”

Javier more-so whispered. John didn’t realize at first but Javier had pressed his lips against the top of his head, and despite the initial feeling of confusion, he didn’t mind. He’d think he’d be disgusted like the usual man at the sight. But he wasn’t.

If anything it felt nice, warm even. But he didn’t need Javier to know that. And before he even knew it himself, he was breathing slow and steady, in the normal pattern like he normally did.

But he didn’t want to move, and Javier made no attempt to move either. Just holding him as the sound of the riverbank slowly flowing beside them. It was nice, paired with the morning sun and slightly chillier air felt like a warm bed.

“Better?” Javier asked after a moment of silence, but John couldn’t bring himself to speak, instead nodding slowly to reply, to which the Mexican chuckled. “Bueno” The Mexican replied with a small sigh.

“you kissed me head” John eventually spoke, his voice slightly gruffer than usual, yet still low. Almost as if uttering the words would make the situation actual, real.

“Sí. Did you not want me to?” Javier replied reluctantly, making sure to question the other man’s words. The lack of a reply made him uncomfortable. Had he offended him? John was one of , if not, the most important people in his life. “I don’t know.” John finally whispered, and Javier felt himself ease up slightly. So he didn’t hate him.

“not sure? Did it feel bad?” Javier questioned, his hand on John’s back mindlessly continuing to stroke slowly, keeping the soothing action going despite there no longer being any need for it. “No” He whispered once more, and Javier couldn’t help the butterflies forming in his stomach. It was nice to not have to worry about disgusting him. Hopefully it’d stay that way.

“Good, then I’ll do it again” Javier replied, kissing John’s head once more and earning a small sigh, causing him to smile even wider. “¿Bueno?” he teased slightly, his hand on John’s back pausing a bit as he leaned back slightly, making the other man look at him. Javier took note to John’s slightly rosy cheeks and his smile grew slightly teasing.

“What?” John questioned with a frown, his embarrassment growing at Javier’s staring. He felt his body burn once more. He knew he was ugly but the staring and almost mocking expression on Javier’s face made him want to run away and hide under a rock for the rest of his life.

“John. Can I kiss you?” The question caused every thought or automatic action his brain was producing to halt, gray eyes wide as he stared at the Mexican man. “What?” he quickly questioned, needing to make sure he heard him right. But even if he wasn’t 100% sure, his cheeks and the tip of his ears grew rosier, the feeling of Javier’s hand on his cheek only making it worse. “Sí, can I kiss you?” Javier repeated as if his question was nothing different from asking how his day was, but to John it was like getting hit by a truck of ‘what if’s’ and embarrassment. But also flattery. Javier wanted to kiss him? Out of all the women in the world- and men obviously, Javier wanted to kiss him.

Javier took John’s silence as slightly endearing, seeing the cogs turn behind his eyes, which made him smile slightly softer. At the silence, despite his morals (which he lacked), he leaned in, pressing a soft kiss to his friend’s lips, smiling as he felt the other man practically melt into it. Javier took it as an added bonus to feel John sigh against his lips. He took the chance of moving closer to him at his compliance, feeling John’s hand on his hip.

Javier had kissed a lot of people, always been the one in control and never wanted it any different. But feeling John’s lips against his made something in his brain crack. A sigh leaving his lips when he felt his back get pressed against the grass, lips slowly molding and moving against the other’s as he gripped the back of his shirt, forcing him to stay close. John had only ever really kissed Abigail, and some girl in an alley behind the saloon in valentine, so feeling Javier not only kiss him but enjoy kissing him was like being handed a trophy for being amazing. As they broke apart, John remained above Javier, his upper arms on the grass beside the Mexican’s head as they caught their breath, a string of saliva connecting their lips.

“Eres tan guapo” Javier whispered breathlessly,

(ts: you’re so handsome)

and despite the fact that john didn’t understand his words, he felt himself get hotter all over again. “Translate” he spoke shortly to which Javier chuckled, arms wrapping around John’s shoulders and pulling him back down. The Mexican managed to flip them over so he was straddling John’s lap, hand ghosting down his clothed torso.

“you’re so handsome” he repeated in english, causing John to flinch slightly. Handsome? He looked like shit , how was he handsome? That coming from Javier was either a ton of bullshit or the biggest compliment ever. Cause Javier? Javier was handsome. Especially now, on top of John, with the morning sun cascading across his face and his lips slightly agape in a small smirk. John swore he could die right then and there.

“I’m really not” the words caused Javier to pause. “Yes, you are.” he spoke almost sternly, leaning down slightly. “If you weren’t, i probably wouldn’t have kissed you” he spoke, placing a chaste kiss to John’s lips before he could argue with him. Then moving his lips to his scarred jaw, kissing over the old wolf scars and then down to his neck.

“Especially with these scars.” Javier spoke against his neck, causing John to tense slightly. “I’ll kiss all of them til you believe me , cariño” Javier spoke against his neck once more, reveling in the way John sighed at the feeling of his open mouthed kisses.

“I’ll show you just how handsome you are”

#rdr2 javier #javier escuella #rdr2 fluff #Jovier fluff #John Marston #Marston rdr2 #divorced!Marston #Javier Escuella x John Marston #I LOVE THEM #BARK BARK BARK BAKR #THIS TOOK ME ALL DAY

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skullsandp0tions · 5 months ago

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"i'll love you in every universe"

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skullsandp0tions · 5 months ago

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SMAAAAAAA- I mean wooaah that’s so beautiful!

charles

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skullsandp0tions · 5 months ago

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SADIE’S AND JAVIERS HAD ME BAWLING. (also fuck Micah) 😭🙏

VDL gang as fruits!!

trying to make up for not posting :/ so i’ll be spam posting a little bit!! sorry if it bothers anyone.

Abigail - Mamey Sapote

named “mother of all fruits” for multiple reasons, and abigail is basically like the 2nd camp mother, after ms. grimshaw.

Arthur - Apple

the main character of all fruits. if anyone thinks of a fruit it’s probably going to be an apple. 90% chance, and arthur is most likely going to be the first person you think of in terms of story game protagonists.

Bill - PawPaw

according to google, most forgotten fruit. bill is most forgotten in terms of gang members, and is always being pushed aside, ignored, and looked down upon.

Charles - Banana

one of many fruits that can adapt to almost anywhere. also thrives on its own just as well as it thrives in groups. Charles only joined the gang because of their code, but he could’ve left easily at any time and be just fine, as well as he can adapt to anywhere, and quickly figures out the animals and plants, which ones to eat and not to eat.

Dutch - Papaya

named “father of all fruits.” dutch is the father of the gang, along with being the leader/king of the game. a homophone for “father came,” as its name came from a compound word, “papa” which means father, “aya” which in hindi, means “to come in the past tense.”

Davey - Ansualt Pear

a fruit that has been extinct for decades. davey unfortunately became extinct in chapter 1’s cutscene.

Grimshaw - Mangosteen

dubbed “queen of all fruits.” grimshaw is the 1st most responsible in camp, as she has people doing the cleaning, and managing the cooking, as well as bickering arthur to donate (which i did), and as a queen is often responsible/loyal to her kingdom, grimshaw was loyal to dutch since she joined, and even when she died.

Hosea - Passionfruit

2nd longest lasting fruit, as apple is the longest lasting. Hosea was the 2nd member of the gang, and was the oldest, plus the longest living (before chapter 4 events).

Jack - Tayberry

hybrid fruit between raspberry and blackberry. raspberry and blackberries are similar, almost the same as each other. all though john and abigail seem to come from different backgrounds, they are both in some ways similar. they both had to do things to survive, and they both want the best for jack.

Javier - Grape

mostly comes in bunches, and can’t exactly thrive on its own without their bunch. javier was best with the gang, and after he was not mentally okay, and was on the run more than he was in the gang.

Jenny - Pineapple

described as “the friendship fruit,” and jenny had liked many activities, and shared common interests with other gang members, causing her to become a friend to many members.

John - Strychnine

most toxic fruit, extremely bitter and poisonous. john in rdr2 wasn’t exactly like this, but in rdr1 he was almost exactly like this. he would’ve done anything for his family (not including uncle), and was bitter to almost everyone he encountered before reuniting with his family. whoever would encounter john and get on his bad side would eventually end up dying, from either him or his son.

Kieran - Durian

most hate it, and kieran was hated/outcasted from the van der linde gang, and not even jack would take a liking to him, as he was previously an o’driscoll.

Karen - Ackee

the ackee is mostly favored for its looks, but it actually tastes horrible. Karen is liked mostly for her appearance, like her chest area or her body, but she has a much deeper personality other than her looks. Karen is considerate of others (the other women) but still isn’t afraid to use her abilities. (cutscenes with molly o’shea, especially the one where she punches her.)

Lenny - Orange

one of the most liked fruits, and is an amazing one. whenever someone names fruits, they will most certainly name orange. lenny is a great character in rdr2, and is one of the best.

Mac - Australian Finger Lime

the australian finger lime is widely unheard of, and most people haven’t seen the look of it. everyone but the rdr2 character designers have never seen mac. his look is unknown to everyone who didn’t work on rdr2.

Mary - Beth - Cocoa Beans

cocoa beans are versatile, but they’re most known for chocolate. Mary-beth can and has done multiple different things in her life, but she is most known for her love of books and writing.

Micah - Honeydew

arguably the worst fruit. don’t know how people can ever like it. just like micah bell is the worst character.

Molly - Densuke Watermelon

one of the fanciest fruits, but is still a melon. just like the other ones, just puts on a fake facade that they’re expensive. molly o’shea does that for dutch, and the densuke does it for money and fame.

Pearson - Rhubarb

goes well with stews, but doesn’t have much versatility. Pearson doesn’t know how to cook much else but stew.

Reverend - Coconut

coconut is one the fruits that represent god, and reverend has always led a god-driven life, even with all his sins.

Sadie - Pomegranate

pomegranate is split open, and bleeds out, and is never the same without its insides/seeds. sadie was never the same without jake, and will never be.

Sean - Cox’s Orange Pippin

the orange pippin represents ireland, and is irelands national fruit. sean comes from ireland, and is very prideful about his heritage.

Strauss - Yubari King Melon

the king melon is the most expensive fruit in the world, and strauss values himself above getting the debts, which caused arthur to have TB.

Trelawny - Jackfruit

jackfruits are rare to discover in certain places, and trelawny only appears when he has a lead, or when he has to travel back to the gang.

Tilly - Peaches

little sister of apples, as well as dating back to 6000 bc. tilly is seen as a sister figure to arthur/john, and she’s one of the first gang members to join.

Uncle - Cempedak

2nd worst smelling fruit, but tastes good. Uncle is notorious for smelling bad (plus being lazy and lumbago), but he has some positive personality traits.

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skullsandp0tions · 6 months ago

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the first thing I thought about was John writing this in his little journal about Arthur after his death.

poor little cowboy sending this to his wife after she leaves

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skullsandp0tions · 6 months ago

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short blurb for now. Brainrot if you will. (Charles x AFAB!Reader

Charles never liked ‘modern society’. He had no problem with people and could talk about almost anything, but he didn’t find his people. People who agreed with him or even wanted to look at him despite the color of his skin. Instead he was met with judging or even disgusted glares, women forcing their children away from him to make sure they didn’t get infected, as if skin color travels through touch.

His parents were both treated the same way all throughout his childhood, his mom being a native and his father african american helped little. His father struggled getting jobs and his mother struggled with the smallest tasks like going to the store and buying groceries without being harrassed. This made Charles, even as a child, very quiet. He strayed away from conversation for the longest time, and then his mother was captured by soldiers a couple years later and was never seen again. At that time Charles was only around 13, and since his father turned to alcohol and other addictions, he decided to leave.

He’d wandered the country for quite a while before finally falling in with the gang. Remaining as quiet as before. He had no reason to talk to many of them other than to reply shortly or ask questions. Arthur was one, if not the only, person he could have a genuine conversation with. Micah had, well, the opposite effect. The gang was becoming his home, his family. Sure he didn’t like or agree with some of them but he respected all of them. Apart from Micah.

And then there was you.

He didn’t pay you any mind the first months but he grew accustomed to your presence following him around or watching him work. It made him calm, it felt like the weight on his shoulders from his past and concern for the future lifted, allowing him to breathe properly without his chest restricting him.

You were warm, like the sun in human form. So beautiful and warm yet the fear of being burnt if he got too close remained in his head, which was why he didn’t let himself think like that. Every time you laughed he engraved it in his head, he could hear it wherever he went, always being able to recognize specifically that laugh. How you laughed when mocking someone or when you found something genuinely funny were two different sounds. He knew them by heart.

He knew all of your scars on your hands and how they felt against his skin every time you’d help him patch up despite his attempts at shutting the idea down, you didn’t know it, but the only reason he didn’t want you to patch him up was due to the fear of falling deeper. He was worried that if he felt your hands on his skin, that he’d slip up and tumble down further into his brain that was already filled about you, and he did. Now that’s all he thinks about; about the scars, and how you got them, the soft skin of your palm but also the almost angelic softness of your fingertips when they ghosted over his hands. He had you in his head 24/7.

Charles never liked people. Always straying towards the woods where the animals roamed and his ethnicity burnt the strongest. Yet after meeting you, he stayed around camp 7 times out of 10. From joining you and the others at the campfire and listening to Javier play, to dragging you out to the woods to teach you how to properly hunt. Of course he needed you to know how to hunt, but being able to guide the posture of your soft body was an added bonus. It became something he looked forward to every week.

He had no reason to pretend not to be excited, not when he saw how happy it made you to see him enjoy your company. It made his heart jump up to his throat and all he could do was give a slightly dopey smile every time, and then you’d laugh at him with that warm laugh, the laugh that he wouldn’t forget for years to come.

You were his purpose.

#charles smith #fluff #charles smith fluff #rdr2 fluff #blurb

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