#and now that he has the good stuff™ he can transform

[skylersprompts]

DC x DP Prompt *9*

Something that Jason realized was that he got the pit rage more and more under control the longer he stayed in Gotham.

Even so it took quite a while till he started to be on better terms with his family, it got easier every day.

At some point he could ignore the pit like any other intrusive thought.

He didn't tell B or his siblings, he just let them believe that he got control. Because otherwise Bruce would just start looking into it and Jason just wanted this good thing to last.

It had been over a week without any 'pit thoughts' - as he labelled them now -, the longest ever and he just felt good, almost like him self again!

Then the week turned into a month and if Jason could, he would make a somersault.

The pit was gone! It just had to be!

He was almost vibrating when he stepped into the cave. He would tell everyone that he was free! They never needed to be afraid of him again!

Jason had asked them all to meet in the cave before patrol, so that he could tell them the good news. And now everyone was here.

He took his helmet of and grinned. But before he could announce the good news, he felt himself sinking into the ground, like it was quicksand.

Panic was coursing through him and that seemed to make everything worse. A white light washed over him and after a tiny moment of silence his family started to panic again.

[cursedzucchini]

Prompt/idea #6

Y'all what if when Danny's not feeling that good (is very injured/didn't eat anything/sleep deprived) he instead of fainting just... Turns into his 14 yo self.

That wasn't such a problem at the begginjng bc he was short king and well, he didn't change that much.

But now? When he's in college (basically always on the verge of fainting from exhaustion/hunger/dehydration/whatever unholy thing he consumed to stay awake and functioning) in Gotham? When he's 24, and yeah, maybe he didn't grow that much in height, but he lost the baby fat. His face didn't look so hopeful, and innocent and he gained quite few scars.

So yeah, changing into his 14yo self wasn't the greatest by itself. But add the trauma Danny has when looking at himself in the mirror, and overall being in the wrong body (thinking about what younger him didn't know, like u can add angst Abt canon stuff, like Vlad was a fucking creep, pariah dark, or add vivisection and Dani dying or whatever).

So Danny was being extra careful about taking care of himself (he thought, like a liar). And maybe that day he forgot breakfast, lost his pocket money, his card declined, he couldn't sleep because of reccuring nightmares and the only edible (that's questionable tho) thing in his bag was some somehow wrong ectoplasm he stole from some guy few weeks ago (and Danny needed to ask the him where tf did he manage to find such a disgusting ecto. Like not even his parents manage to fuck it up that badly).

So when on his way home, some fucking asshole jumped him, of course he was going to freak the fuck out.

...if knocking the guy out counts as freaking out. And showing some of his more ghostly features out (read show the asshole the indescribable horrors of balancing life and death for eternity and no time at all).

And that somehow tipped Danny over the top. So now he's sitting there, in his now way too big clothes next to the knocked out (hopefully) clown, drawing dumb pictures on his face, waiting for Jazz to pick him up and maybe help him dispose of the body.

(bonus points if the batfam saw this go down and are now so fucking confused how tf did some twink™ knocked out the fucking joker in one punch, and than transformed into a fuckibg child????? B, no, put the adoption papers down-!)

(bonus bonus points if 14 yo Danny looks exactly like 14yo Jason, and they (especially Jason) just see young Jason sitting next to dead? Joker w a crowbar, drawing dicks on his face)

(also the reason why Danny doesn't know who joker is, is bc every time someone started talking Abt joker or the clown he assumed he was something like batman, and wasn't interested in learning anything Abt anything clown themed)

[oldtvandcomics]

The Lone Ranger Origin Story is So Good Though (essay)

As far as origin stories go, the one of the Lone Ranger goes HARD. I'm going to base this on the first episode of the TV show, because the first of the radio show doesn't seem to exist any more (?), but I do assume it's close to being the same. Interlaced with some stuff from later adaptations.

So the first thing we see, is this:

"Six Texas Rangers ride across a western landscape, all courageous, straight-shooting men." Their leader, as we learn, is Dan Reid, a Very Brave Texas Ranger About To Do Very Brave Texas Ranger Things™.

.... and now he's dead.

This kind of bait and switch is something that we are used to in our story telling, but at the time, it wasn't exactly something you expected. The massacre of the Texas Rangers is shocking, even if you know that it's coming. So anyway, the guy you expected to be your Traditionally Masculine Protagonist™ is dead, and the only survivor is...

.... his younger brother, who manages to drag himself to a nearby cave where he finds some shelter and water.

So from the get-go, we have:

A traditionally masculine figure, who is presented to us in a way that we 100% expect him to be a "normal" Western protagonist.

Said masculine man getting killed unceremoniously, and replaced by his younger, therefore "lesser" brother.

Who then vanishes into a cave, which is a very traditional symbol of death/rebirth/transformation.

Also we never see his face, a creative decision that this show was very famous for.

(It's also something that later adaptations mess up, by introducing John much earlier. The whole point is that he was a Nobody before his brother got killed and him catapulted into a completely different genre.)

Then The Other arrives.

Said Other being of course our second hero, Tonto. And look, this is a story from the 1950s, based on the original from the 1930s. It has some issues with racism. But also, Tonto IS an Other, in that he is from a completely different culture than the (white) characters we've so far been introduced to. (And an outsider even to his own culture, but that is never really addressed.)

So anyway, he recognizes John BY THE RING HE GAVE HIM WHEN THEY WERE CHILDREN, a thing I'm VERY NORMAL about, and this kind of makes him stay to take care of him - which he definitely would have anyway, given the way he acts in every single story. (Homoerotic cave scene from 1981 my beloved. The only good part of that movie.)

Tonto's motivation in the entire story can be pretty well summed up with "either it's hella gay, or the writers were just racist and kind of forgot to give their character of colour a motivation beyond caring about the white hero".

Anyway. Moving on.

John recovers, and him and Tonto construct him a persona in the very fun way that he just goes with every single of Tonto's suggestions, even if said suggestions are nothing more than a throwaway line. One of said suggestions is The Mask, which Tonto very helpfully makes him from his brother's vest. The Mask doesn't really make too much sense in-universe (at least not past this first story), but narratively speaking, it fulfills the very important role of marking John too as An Other.

So.

Normal man walks (crawls) into a cave, comes out visibly marked as an Other,

He symbolically carries with him the Traditionally Masculine Hero in the form of said hero's clothes,

Which he LITERALLY wears as a mask.

Then they complete his metaphorical death/rebirth by digging a fake grave.

The rest of the story is spent chasing down the criminals who killed the Texas Rangers, but, like. This whole transformation the protagonist goes through, from a minor but traditionally masculine hero archetype to being his own (still masculine) hero who is visibly marked as An Other, is just, really nicely done. In my opinion.

[brandwhorestarscream]

“We spent 24 hours with a wild ambulance” This is probably what happens when Ratchet (or any ambulance at that) get somehow accidentally adopted by a group guys, during a snow storm.

It all started when the humans found a an ambulance in their garage, despite not having one a day before. They try to get him to transform but all they get is doors slamming them.

Due to the bad weather outside, they decided to do dumb stuff because boredom. So Ratchet (or any other ambulance like I said) has to watch/hear a bunch of drunk guys doing drunk guys stuff while weird music is playing.

At one point, the humans decide to continue their party in the garage. Ratchet is pretty annoyed and turns on his sirens, which ends up in a weird match of who can scream the loudest between “The Ambulance™” and “Kyle™”.

Their party is interrupted by a power outage.

One of the guys is still filming stuff, probably has been recording stuff ever since they realized they now had an ambulance.

They slowly all begin freezing on the floor and couch so Ratchet, after pitying them, decides to let them sleep in his alt.

Two air mattresses are pushed inside the back and the humans just continue filming and mentioning how they “managed to gain the trust of the wild Ambulance.” And just speaking like they’re in some animal planet documentary.

Ratchet stays with them for some time before leaving. They all get emotional and just give him a bag of weed as a souvenir.

(Idk where I was going with that one but I guess they bonded over partying, getting drunk and weed. Good for them)

😂😂😂

This made me ugly laugh, congratulations. Smthn about the mental image is so fucking funny

Ratchet being completely and totally 100% done with Kyle™ and the rest of his dumb human friends. Ambulance sirens are LOUD so the fact that Kyle™ even tries at all is worthy of at least some respect. Ratchet is completely bemused. Imagine trying to shoo a mouse out of your temporary shelter and it just tries to start a screaming match with you. That's what happened. Kyle™ is a screaming mouse or maybe a hamster and Ratchet doesn't know what to do

But but but 🥺 he sees them all shivering and getting antsy about being trapped in the cold with no heat so just opens his back doors like SIGH. Come on in. Can't let these dumb hamsters freeze to death. His interior is nice and toasty warm and they very much appreciate it

When he leaves he's kinda touched that they gave him tributes to take with him, even if he has no idea what they are. They seem important to the humans tho, so it's a nice souvenir 😊

[jafndaegur]

20 Questions for Writers

My beloved @chierafied tagged me in this so obvi I had to do <3

AO3 username: Jafndaegur

1. How many works do you have on AO3? 24 (most of my works are here on Tumblr ^^")

2. What’s your total AO3 word count? 244,262

3. What fandoms do you write for? Sesskag (Inuyasha), Mystic Messenger, Wangxian & various Mo Dao Zu Shi ships, Genshin Impact, Thunderbolt Fantasy, and the Hobbit.

4. What are your top five fics by kudos?

Blood Runs Thicker (The Hobbit) - Kudos: 791

Shatter Me (The Hobbit) - Kudos: 383

The Seventh Wonder (WangXian / MDZS) - Kudos: 347

Of Jade and Claw (ZhongItto / Genshin Impact) - Kudos: 247

Gravitational Fairytale (WangXian / MDZS) - Kudos: 209

5. Do you respond to comments? I really do try to. But I have a Goldfish Brain™, and typically forget that I've read a comment and never respond. 🙈

6. What is the fic you wrote with the angstiest ending? The angstiest ending??? I'm going to say it's tied between Blood Runs Thicker (The Hobbit) since it ends with Bilbo completely abandoning a Dwarven-given identity under the pretense that he was never loved and has to move on - and then a time when I'm without you (WangXian / MDZS), where Lan Wangji must deal with the fact that Wei Wuxian is actually dead and there's nothing he can do but grieve alone.

7. What’s the fic you wrote with the happiest ending? My happiest ending for a story is probablyyyy where's my angel (Mystic Messenger) or The Seventh Wonder (WangXian / MDZS). Granted if this was my Tumblr fics, there'd be WAY more fluff to pick from - my favorite being Fragile Duetto (Mystic Messenger).

8. Do you get hate on fics? Not really. If I do, any hate is on my old Hobbit fics which were basically abandoned after a serious bout of online bullying back when I was 14. It was a good time lol. I don't really go back to those fics.

9. Do you write smut? If so, what kind? Not often, and certainly only on special occasion. Any M-rated smut has never been published, though - and I certainly didn't put any on AO3. Only degenerate papapapapapa stuff here on the hellhole Tumblr platform uwu

10. Do you write crossovers? What’s the craziest one you’ve written? Oh absolutely! I started off fanfiction as a crossover writer on FFnet. My first fic was a very tame How to Train Your Dragon x Rise of the Guardians that got really popular. Since then tho, I think my craziest xover was a Mystic Messenger x Style Savvy crossover? The 2 universes together just make so much sense tho in my head lol.

11. Have you ever had a fic stolen? Not that I know of rofl I'm neither that good or that wellknown - although I wouldn't be surprised if any of my abandoned stuff got stolen.

12. Have you ever had a fic translated? Again, not that I've known of.

13. Have you ever co-written a fic before? Back in the old days on FFnet, I co-wrote a couple Hobbit stories, and a How to Train Your Dragon x Percy Jackson story. Idk what happened to them, they're in the abyss somewhere.

14. What’s your all time favorite ship? All time favorite ship? Objectively WangXian (Wei Wuxian / Lan Wangji). Subjectively? Bagginshield. I just go back to them when I'm depressed - they are a comfort ship for sure.

15. What’s a WIP you want to finish but doubt you ever will? As I am retired from fanfic writing, I doubt a lot of my fics will ever actually get finished. But Noise of Rain (Sesskag) is a story I dream of finishing - it's my female rage, villain arc redemption, true anti-hero love child. Maybe one day I'll come back to it.

16. What are your writing strengths? Long ago, I'd say exposition. Now it's definitely transformed into vignette romanticism, and dialogue (this has come from my recent influx of script writing though).

17. What are your writing weaknesses? Actually sitting down and writing. It's such a slow process for me and my brain runs too fast sometimes to be able to write something out coherently or the way I want to.

18. Thoughts on writing dialogue in another language in fic? Oh I absolutely adore it! It's a very fantasy trope to have different languages actually written in a story, but I'm HERE for it. I didn't take two years of linguistics to not include bits and pieces in a story.

19. First fandom you wrote for? As I mentioned earlier, it was for How to Train Your Dragon x Rise of the Guardians.

20. Favourite fic you’ve written? Oh I ABSOLUTELY have a favorite child. It's not popular (or finished, RIP), but I love it most by far - Shattered Euphony (ReZhong / Genshin Impact). I consider it one of my greatest works, both in original and fanfic writing. One day I will finish it.

Tagging @anon-drabble @reifromrfa (no pressure tho) and anyone else who'd like to join <3

[silvertsundere]

Silver Talks AniManga (02/04/23)

I was actually also gonna catch up on hiropre, but then I decided to read the jigokuraku manga so I'm putting that on the backburner til I'm done with reading the manga, it's gonna be airing for a year so I'm in no rush tbh

looooooots of stuff this week tho sheesh I got busy (and it could've been more cause there was some more semi recent stuff I wanted to start to but decided to postpone it for a bit) edit: oops forgot about jiangshi x ch11 it's in there now tho after demon bride

Anime

Dragon Ball Super: Super Hero

gohan blanco is real!!!!

this is basically just the stuff I said on discord but touched up

the cg was astounding really, I had big doubts but it really did look great, however it can never beat traditional animation no amount of flashy particle effects can beat actual sakuga the story didn't really do anything, it felt like a filler episode even if it's canon, it felt like an excuse just to introduce new characters and transformations for merch and the games, "But Silver that's every movie!!" and yeah but at least BoG and Broly had lore and stuff gohan beast kicked cell once and did the makankosapo and that was it, VERY lame, I love gohan and piccolo so it was nice for them to get some spolight instead of it always being the goku show BUT I wish beast actually got to fight some like gogeta blue 😔 it was neat seeing RR again and all those old dragon ball moments reanimated as someone who's watched the original too

Jigokuraku Ep1

before starting the ep I was looking for a tl of the manga so I can devour it next, was just gonna read it after the ep but ended up going through all of chap 1 anyway tehe anyway it was good at the start of the ep I thought it was gonna cover more than just chap 1 cause of the pacing but ended up just being all of chap 1 which is fair enough I guess they played it by the books and didn't deviate from the source at all was hoping for a bit of sakuga when he does the jutsu at the end but was basically the same as the manga just with a bit more spice it's got a star studded cast tho I'm looking forward to it, and I will be plowing through the manga like I said there

Manga

Jigokuraku Ch1 - 11

like I said up above I'm gonna be obliterating the manga, it's only 128 chaps so I should be done before the next episode easily, but anyway I hadn't read this before but I did read Kaku's newest manga, Ayashimon, while it ran on jump. I liked it but it unfortunately got axed at 25 chaps. tho just from the 1st chap of jigokuraku I can tell that the gap between them is a massive and it's cancelation is more understandable now. anyway onto jigoku, it's good. simple as that. the art is as good as it was in ayashimon but the story and all the characters are just much more interesting, and I'm only like 1/10th in. don't got much more to say cause of how little I've read so far, but I'll certainly be finished before next saturday really looking forward to Takarie's performance as yuzuriha after seeing how she is in the manga

Stan for Salvation Ch 1-7

angels and demons gain power based on how many people believe in them, so what would happen if a group of demons was one of the most popular idol bands in japan?

that's the premise of the series. michael shows up to defeat some demons and gets obliterated because he has 5 "faith" compared to the demon's 530k, so he decides to become an idol too in order to level the playing field. over the next few chaps more of the archangels join and hijinks ensue. I thought it was just gonna be bishie bait but it's not too bad tbh

Pension Life Vampire Ch1

monsters from vampires to kappa are real and they're in a cold war with the humans.. or they were until peace was achieved our protagonist below had trained her whole life to fight monster and now that there's peace she doesn't know what to do with her life after going back to school and trying to be a normal person she ends up finding a vampire and after stuff™ happens they become friends the art is very cute and it looks like it'll be a nice chill series the author's previous work, Futari Escape, was straight up yuri so I'll be having my goggles really strapped on for this

Dandadan Ch99

really had a whole chap dedicated to this fool huh ARGH I swear to god if okarun doesn't show up at the end of next chap it's gonna be such a wasted opportunity

One Punch Man Ch180

tatsumaki cute, that is all

Kaiju 8 Ch83

extremely pog chap very cool to see kafka back in action after so long

Shuumatsu no Valkyrie Ch75 & 76

chapters for this come out so infrequently that I don't check that often and oops apparently 2 came out in the past weeks and I didn't notice, anyway at the start of this fight I wasn't too sure about it but ended up being really good as usual, the end result was what I expected tho considering the current standings

Ichigoki's Under Control!! Ch17

another very bad chap, at least there should only be 1 or 2 more left

The Ichinose Family's Deadly Sins Ch19 Ginka & Gluna Ch28 Fabricant 100 Ch16

not much to say tbh, just ok chaps

Tokyo Demon Bride Ch29 (Finale)

it's a shame it never really did that well in ranking and ended up getting cut short like this, tho it could've been shorter if there wasn't such a big gap between new serializations this time. but anyway

it was alright, it's strongest point was certainly the art, from chap 1 til the end it was consitently good, with very clean visuals and great designs, however the story wasn't too impressive, it stuck to doing the "monster of the week" thing for a while and when the threat of cancelation became apparent it started to introduce more plot but it wasn't interesting enough and it was too late to save, after which it rushed to the ending trying to hit the big plot moments they prob had planned from the beggining. it's a shame really, I quite liked it, the cast was likeable and as I said the art was good, I will be looking forward to whatever the author's next work may be

Jiangshi X Ch11

I'm calling it now but the dad's gonna get turned into a jiangshi and the mc is gonna end up having to fight him, and surprass him, before fighting the big baddie

Cipher Academy Ch18

cool chap, always nice to see iroha being cool and showing off, also really like the visuals of the cover and the spread

Witch Watch Ch103

totally didn't expect to get more fran on the very next chap, it's very much welcome, she's cute

Spy x Family Ch78

nice little chap about the handler which also doubled as a bond chapter, had been a while

Blue Box Ch95

another very good chap, that ending tho ARGH

Mashle Ch150

we really got the backstory for that lil shit huh? I know it's just to buy time til mash wakes up but still

Sakamoto Days Ch113

so many cool action scenes let's goooo

The Elusive Samurai Ch104

nice chap, mostly a set up for the upcoming big battle, tho I didn't expect this guy to die already

Undead Unluck Ch153

very good chap, it's cool to see fuuko working together with everyone like this

Akane-banashi Ch56

great chap as usual, love to see akane power up, but things won't be so easy as they look, especially with that new guy and now the seiyuu in the picture

Ayakashi Triangle Ch125

interesting development at the end to say the least monka

[notepadsandtealeaves]

Javier Escuella x GN!Reader in: (Home is) Wherever I’m With You

Reader Requests || Immy’s 200 Follower Event 🎊 🎉 🎊

MINORS/AGELESS BLOGS DO NOT INTERACT || 18+ ONLY ||

|| ao3 version | event tag | rdr tag | m.lists | main blog ||

↠ Requested By: @team-baku-is-blasting-off-again ((for my 200 Follower Event)) ↠ Reader Gender: Neutral ↠ Content Type: Angst-y H/C vibes that get NSFW at the end ((minors kindly fuck off, pls and thank)) ↠ CWs/TWs: Javier’s being over-protective like to a very uncool degree, as well as insecure in himself/his relationship with Reader. Likewise Reader has their own baggage/insecurities that don’t help matters at all. It all gets worked on and rectified by the story’s end, but feelings are indeed Hurt. ↠ Check below the cut for a more comprehensive list of tags. ↠ No betas—we die like damn near everyone you’ve ever dared to love in this damned series lol. ↠ Total WC: 14k~ ((my b, my uhh, my hand slipped??))

↠ Prompts:

“I’ll never be good enough.”

“Tell me to stop, tell me or I won’t be able to.” / “Then don’t.”

“No.”

“‘No’, what?”

“No, you’re not goin’.”

“I’m sorry,” you start, your own awakening anger transforming the words into sharp and dangerous things, “somethin’ must be gettin’ lost here because that didn’t sound like a question.”

The smoldering embers that had been in his gaze before are fully alight now with a flame that’s just barely checked as he regards you. “That’s because it wasn’t, mi amor…”

↠ In which what should be little more than a simple misunderstanding turns into something quite other. But no matter the storm, the pair of you are always willing to weather it so long as you can come home.

In which OP not-so-subtly simps for Arthur in the background lol. Let me love you, Mister Morgan, pls 😭

Sorry for the wait, dear requester. Between non-fun adult type stuff and my need to reboot in between fills this took far longer to write than what either of us wanted lol. Doesn’t help that there’s angst involved (which always induces a certain amount of metal strain); add to that the fact that three out of the four fills I got for this event were angst-y H/C type deals and you get an even slower turn around.

But anyways!

This is long—way longer than anything I intended on writing for this event, but tbh this is a work I already had partially done. It’s a short story that’s been hanging around in my drafts since January of 2019 (yeah, I know -_-), but despite how long it’s been since last I touched it, reading the prompts put me in mind of it right away. Here’s to hoping it was worth the wait!

Translations ((As always, if any of the Spanish in this is wrong feel free to take it up with Google Translate lol)):

No gracias, Tilly, estoy bien—No thank you, Tilly, I’m fine

Mi amor—My love

Joder—Fuck

Dios, soy un jodido idiota—God, I’m a fucking idiot

Nunca seré lo suficientemente bueno—I’ll never be good enough

Mi corazon—My Sweetheart

Cariño—Sweetie

Siempre me tomas tan bien—You always take me so good

General Tags: Arthur Morgan + Reader (platonic, affectionate) | Arthur and Reader have a close, sibling-type relationship | Arthur Morgan being a Good Man™ as well as a good brother | Relationship strife | Public arguments (and the embarrassment that comes with that lol) | Various insecurities on both Reader and Javier’s part | Javier gets over-protective/insecure, arguments ensue | Mildly toxic behavior (unintentional, but still; see aforementioned tag) that is worked on/rectified | Also Reader’s own insecurities/baggage leads to an overreaction on their part as well | ((I hate writing all this angst, but it needed to happen for ✨~plot~✨ lol)) | Light Micah bashing lol (tho no shade intended towards his fans) | Hosea and Charles giving good advice

General Tags: Arthur Morgan + Reader (platonic, affectionate) | Arthur and Reader have a close, sibling-type relationship | Arthur Morgan being a Good Man™ as well as a good brother | Relationship strife | Public arguments (and the embarrassment that comes with that lol) | Various insecurities on both Reader and Javier’s part | Javier gets over-protective/insecure, arguments ensue | Mildly toxic behavior (unintentional, but still; see aforementioned tag) that is worked on/rectified | Also Reader’s own insecurities/baggage leads to an overreaction on their part as well | ((I hate writing all this angst, but it needed to happen for ✨~plot~✨ lol)) | Light Micah bashing lol (tho no shade intended towards his fans) | Hosea and Charles giving good advice

“So are you in or out?” Arthur asks as he reaches the end of his spiel.

The stagecoach robbery seems straight forward enough, but given the fact that everything the gang has put its collective hand to since the infamous Riverboat Incident back in Blackwater has gone tits up he knows you have a right to be wary. And you are, just a touch, though you hate to admit it. This string of bad luck has been hard on everyone and many bear the scars—both inside and out—to prove it, yourself included.

But you trust Arthur and you know that if this is a job he’s sniffed out himself that it’s probably solid; the fact that Charles and Lenny will also be tagging along means that the chances of success are just that much higher. The three of them usually make wise enough choices, last month’s misadventures in Valentine’s bar notwithstanding. You quickly agree before you can think better of it, and the smile that it pulls from the bearded man makes the potential risks more than worth it.

It had taken Arthur a bit to warm up to you when you’d first joined the gang, but once he did the pair of you fell into a close-knit, sibling-type relationship. A few people around camp—namely Sean, Bill, and damn near all the girls—had insisted that there had to be something more there in the time since, and it was only once you and Javier became an item that the rumors were (mostly) put to rest. The close nature of your relationship was actually the reason that it took Javi so long to ask you out. He’d been thoroughly convinced by the others that you and Arthur were sneaking around behind the gang’s collective back, and it wasn’t until you explained to him that firstly, you were adults who wouldn’t have to stoop to such a juvenile level, and secondly that you’d adored him from nearly the moment you’d met that he finally got past that foolishness.

Though it was annoying at the time you can’t say that you blame anyone for thinking you and your best friend had something going. Despite all his posturing to the contrary, Arthur Morgan is and always will be a far better man than what your lifestyle allows for, and a damned handsome one to boot, and well, you ain’t too bad yourself. You complement each other in a way that just seems ‘right’, apparently, but even if Javi hadn’t come into the picture your relationship’s always been destined to be a platonic one.

Arthur’s hurts are old things that run deep and jagged, tainting his perception of everything—himself especially. Both life and love have never looked on him kindly, and so he’s stopped expecting to receive the latter. Of course this has never stopped you from extending the sentiment to him after a fashion, but years passed and experiences gained have taught you that trying to force feelings when they just aren’t there will only ever end in heartbreak. Because of this you’ve never pushed for anything more and the pair of you are all the closer for it. Having him in your life has definitely made it fuller in so many ways, and it’s a blessing that you’re always striving to return, so whenever you get him to smiling like this you always feel as if you’re one step closer to your goal.

“Great,” he drawls, pushing off of his knees as he rises from the milk crate-turned-chair. “We ride out at the end of the hour so be ready. And make sure your gun’s actually loaded this time.”

His comment earns a few snickers from the others that share the space with you, though most of them quiet down when they feel the weight of your stare. The only one who doesn’t is Tilly, but then again the woman knows that you’d sooner kick a dog before ever doing anything more scathing to her than glaring.

“Wasn’t. My. Fault,” you grit out as you chuck an abandoned tobacco tin at his back.

A drunken prank compliments of Sean had led to a mildly embarrassing incident involving a bet and some bottle shooting, and nearly a year later you’ve still yet to live it down. Though he teases you about it now, Arthur had nearly taken the Irishman’s head off at the time; had the blond not challenged you, you could’ve easily found yourself unknowingly unarmed in a situation far more dire than a simple test of skill.

For his part the man just chuckles as he tosses a sarcastic “Sure” over his shoulder.

“Jerk,” you mutter, though there’s no real heat behind it.

“Want me to kick his ass?”

Had the voice not been so familiar you might’ve been startled by its sudden nearness, but the dulcet cadence is one that you know better than even your own. Unfortunately you’ve not been hearing it nearly as often as you’d like these past few days. Between duties to the camp and following leads in town, you and your man haven’t occupied the same space for any extended amount of time outside of sleeping together—done in the most literal sense, sadly—and even that’s been choppy as a you’d both been assigned guard shifts that made your overlap damn near nonexistent.

Javi’s just finished one such shift and it shows. His usually warm eyes are dull with fatigue and his posture’s a bit stiff from the strain that comes with making rounds of the area for the better part of the last several hours, but despite it all he’s just as handsome as ever and your pulse quickens as it always does whenever he’s near.

“Mmm, maybe later,” you say with half a laugh as he plops down on the log next to you. Depending on how this job goes down you just might take him up on that offer—if the law doesn’t beat you to it, that is.

For his part the man just snorts before pressing a sweet, lingering kiss to your temple. He wraps his arms around you then and hoists you over into his lap, heedless of the scalding contents of your tin mug. A few moments of careful shuffling—and an unnecessary amount of cooing from Tilly and Sean—later sees you comfortable in your new seat. Javier had told you once that holding you like this feels like home, and sitting here with his head resting heavily against your shoulder and his hum of contentment warm against your ear, the statement rings especially true. Your free hand smooths over the pair of his where they rest against your thighs in a loose clasp, your fingers mapping out the ever increasing expanse of nicks and scars that mar the skin there; one scab feels especially fresh under your touch and you know that it’s compliments of yet another five-finger match, though who his opponent was you couldn’t say.

“You want something to eat, Javier?” Tilly asks from where she sits next to you—or rather next to your previous spot. Her thin, nimble fingers are making quick work of the trousers she’s mending with a level of skill that could put many-a seamstresses to shame.

“No gracias, Tilly, estoy bien.” (No thank you, Tilly, I’m fine.)

The young woman giggles at that. “Poor thing. You must really be tired because I didn’t understand half of what you just said. Sure sounded pretty though.”

“It always does,” you agree. Hearing Javi speak in his native language is truly a thing of beauty and, in your opinion, there isn’t much out there that can rival it.

He chuckles a bit at that, but makes no further comment. When you ask if he’d like a cup of coffee or even a sip of your own he turns this down too. “I’ll eat before I go to sleep,” he promises before you can get on him about looking after himself. “I just want to stay like this for a bit, mi amor. I’ve been missin’ you.”

His words leave your heart aching in the best of ways, but before you can reply a commanding bellow of “Miss Jones!” rings out across the camp. To Javier’s credit he doesn’t jump like the rest of you, but this is probably due him being far too tired to react in time. Everyone, from Dutch on down to Kieran, respects—and in some cases, fears—Ms. Grimshaw, and with good reason. The woman’s mouth can put any military official to shame, and her right hook is the stuff of legends. Anything with even the smallest amount of self-preservation knows not to get in her way when she’s scented her prey; the way the material of her skirt flutters out and away from her as if attempting to not further impeded her stride only serves to punctuate this point.

“Why ain’t you helpin’ out Mister Pearson?” she continues on as she comes to stand directly in front of the woman in question. “You’re not a goddamn workin’ girl, we don’t pay you to sit around on that ass of yours an’ look pretty.”

The blonde snorts loudly into her mug. “You don’t pay me at all.”

“Oh, love—no.” Sean’s plea is little more than a breath from where he sits beside her. Reckless though the young man may be, even he knows that there are some fights you just don’t pick.

“That girl’s really gotta learn when to keep her fool mouth shut,” Tilly comments under her breath.

“Is she drunk?” Javi asks. “‘Cause she sounds drunk. And it’s not even eight yet.”

You shrug as much as your position will allow. “I haven’t seen her drinkin’ anything other than coffee, but that don’t mean nothin’. She was goin’ at it pretty hard last night, though—she could still be drunk from yesterday.”

As the three of you converse the other two women continue to go back and forth, with volume and tempers both steadily rising all the while. Ms. Grimshaw might be a pill, but she’s a fair and caring woman in her own way. She never assigns anyone more than their due, and is always willing to work with anybody that’s suffering from an illness or injury severe enough to keep them from performing their duties properly. So long as a person’s able to provide for the camp in some major way—be that via money, labor, or acquiring much needed provisions—she generally leaves them alone.

Unfortunately for Karen she’s been bringing very little to the table as of late, well besides that lead on Valentine’s bank. Despite the fact that she’d pitched it well over a week ago she’s quick to bring it back up yet again for what little good it’ll do her. Even if Dutch does okay the job it’ll still take at least another couple of weeks of reconnaissance and planning before he’ll even think of making a move on the place which means that the blonde’s “–got one iron in the fire, but no damn legs to stand on”, as the older woman puts it.

“Well they’re not workin’!” Karen yells lamely, gesturing towards where you’re currently all hugged up with your boyfriend.

“That’s because I’m getting ready for a job!” you quickly call out. The last thing you want or need is one of Susan’s lectures on ‘pulling your own damn weight.’

“Sure don’t look it,” she shoots back in yet another blatant attempt to get the attention off of her. “Not unless you’re chargin’ your man by the hour these days.”

Her words leave Javier quaking with near silent laughter and he earns a sharp elbow to the ribs for his troubles. His apology comes in the form of a kiss placed just behind your ear, and though it’s a chaste thing you still feel a shudder run up the length of your spine. It’s been damn near a week since the two of you have had the combination of time, energy, and the minimum amount of needed privacy to do much more than some heavy petting, and given the state of your libidos, a week’s more akin to a month.

Of course he notices the way his kiss affects you, and of fucking course the jerk decides that now would be a good time to pepper more of them along the column of your neck. Knowing that telling him to stop will only lead to him doing something far less innocuous you decide that ignoring him to the best of your ability is the better course of action. If anyone else takes issue with his amorous display they keep it behind their teeth; whether this is because they’re too used to seeing shit like this by now, or out of fear of what the man’ll do to them if he thinks they’ve offended and-or embarrassed you, you cannot say—though if you’re being honest you know it’s probably mostly due to the latter.

“Fuck you Karen, I’m helping Arthur ‘n’ ‘nem rob that stagecoach outside of Valentine.” Your voice only catches once as you speak and you count that as a victory.

“You hear that, Miss Jones? They have an actual task to tend to, but you? You’re just sittin’ around–”

The rest of Ms. Grimshaw’s tirade is lost to you when Javi breathes a quiet “Qué?” into your ear.

“Oh, right, guess you wouldn’t ‘ve heard yet. Arthur’s got a lead on some rich fucks that’re passin’ through the area on their way to Golden Planes so me, him, Lenny, and Charles are gonna hit ‘em up. Should be a pretty decent sized haul from what I gathered. Apparently the feller’s some actor preparing for a role by ‘roughing it’ like us common folk, ‘cept not really since he’s got himself a nice little caravan-type-deal goin’ on complete with all the comforts that he’s so accustomed to.”

You roll your eyes hard at the absurdity of it all. You remember hearing a traveling preacher once say something about a fool and his money being easily parted, and while you’re pretty sure that armed robbery’s normally considered to be a sin in this case you just might be doing the Lord’s work. The thought leaves you snorting out half a laugh as you continue on.

“The man sounds like a asshole, and a dumb one at that. Hell, given why he’s on this fool’s quest we just might be helpin’ him out—ya know, lettin’ him experience the true grit of America’s untamed land and the hounding terror of the roguish gangs that rove its planes, or, yanno, some equally flowery bullshit. Anyway, it’s pretty poorly guarded, relatively speaking, and sure to be full of loot if Arthur’s contact is to be believed—and I’m sure she is. Barmaids hear everything and she’s sweet on Arthur besides. She’s been doin’ everything she can to help ‘em in hopes that he’ll take more of an interest in her, the poor girl. She’s so hung up on him she can hardly see straight. Kinda wish I could tell her better, but she probably wouldn’t believe me anyways.”

You aren’t expecting too much in the way of reply aside from a snort of amusement, or maybe even an offer to come along, really anything but the growled “No” that you get.

“Excuse me?”

You couldn’t have heard him right, you think, but then he says it again.

You lean off to the side so that you can get a better look at him. His expression is just as straight forward as the uttered word and twice as hard. You arch a brow as you look from the pursed set of his lips to the banked fire in his eyes. He’s clearly upset, though for the life of you, you cannot understand why.

“‘No’, what?”

“No, you’re not goin’.”

“I’m sorry,” you start, your own awakening anger transforming the words into sharp and dangerous things, “somethin’ must be gettin’ lost here because that didn’t sound like a question.”

The smoldering embers that had been in his gaze before are fully alight now with a flame that’s just barely checked as he regards you. “That’s because it wasn’t, mi amor. I don’t want you anywhere near something that risky.”

You scoff loudly at that. Who does he think he is? That you are? There have only ever been a few people in your life that could ever even begin to think of forbidding you to do anything, and they’ve all long since died, so needless to say Javier Escuella is not among their number. And that’s not even touching on his blatant disregard of the skills that you’ve earned through the literal shedding of your blood, sweat, and tears. You can handle yourself just fine, and had been doing so for literal years before you even knew he existed. You’re not some goddamn damsel from out of one of Mary-Beth’s books, and you’re definitely not looking for someone to save you. When you tell him as much he just sighs.

“I never said you were. I know you can take care of yourself.”

“Well you’re sure as shit not actin’ like it,” you give back. He sighs again before muttering something under his breath in Spanish and for some reason that makes you even angrier. “If you’ve got somethin’ to say, Javier, then say it. And at a volume that I can actually hear, if you goddamn please.”

“I said, you’re acting like a child,” he bites off.

“I’m acting like a child? Me? Are you fuckin’ serious right now? You’re the one that started all of this!”

“I didn’t start anythi–”

“Oh so the whole ‘you’re not going’ bit—that wasn’t you startin’ it?” The sound you let out is a bitter shadow of a laugh. “I lost my father a long time ago, Escuella, and I’m not lookin’ to replace him, least of all with my goddamn boyfriend.”

He pinches his eyes shut in frustration. “I’m not trying to replace anybody! Fuckin’– I just want you to be safe.”

“I can take care of myself.”

“I never said that you couldn’t.”

“Then what are you sayin’?” you demand with a toss of your hand. “‘Cause from where I’m sittin’ it sounds a whole damn lot like you think I’m too fuckin’ incompetent to get the job done.”

When the only reply you get is a hard, agitated breath you just nod your head. “And there it is. Hm. Well, regardless of your estimation of my skills, Mister Escuella, I’m more than capable of handlin’ a simple robbery. Now if you’ll kindly excuse me, I’ve a few things that need doin’ before I go and I don’t want Arthur and the rest waitin’ on my account.”

You give him a look when the arm that bars you in doesn’t immediately fall away. Javier meets your stare then and the tumultuous mix of emotions that you find in those warm brown irises leaves your indignation faltering, but before you can even begin to make an attempt at deciphering any of it he’s dropping both his eyes and his arms.

No further words are exchanged, though the small part of you that’s not currently pissed the fuck off feels as if you should say something. Leaving things like this is hardly wise, especially since there is a possibility—relatively slim though it is—that you may not come back, but you just can’t bring yourself to open your mouth. Javier has stepped squarely on a rather sensitive nerve, and that he can’t see that, that he won’t make the first move to apologize…

It hurts more than you care to admit, even to yourself.

You’re both adults and should be able to talk about this like the reasonable people you usually are, but you can’t be the bigger person right now. For a long time people had put you down and made you feel as if you and your abilities had no real worth and you believed them. It had taken years for you to realize that they were wrong, that you’ve always had value beyond anything they—and even you yourself—could ever know. Your self-confidence is a thing hard earned and you’ll die before you ever allow anyone to strip you of it again. Having one of the people closest to you threatening it, unintentional though it may have been, hits you hard and you just can’t.

Don’t. Won’t.

As you go you feel more than just Javier’s eyes on you. It seems as if you gave the gang a show to go with their morning meal and the thought leaves your face uncomfortably warm. Where’s Abbi and John when you need ‘em? you think as you make your way back to your tent. When compared to the screaming matches that the pair of them frequently engage in what you and your man had done can hardly even be called a proper fight.

Abandoning the mug that you hadn’t even realized you were still carrying, you grab everything you’ll need from the little box that sits tucked away in the shared space of your makeshift shelter; afterwards you head over to the medicine wagon and collect a few items, just in case worst comes to worst. Now fully kitted out, the only thing left to do is join Arthur and the rest over by the horses—which means cutting through the middle of the camp. Eyes forward, shoulders squared, and face set in a way that says ‘stay the fuck away’ you head towards your destination. Thankfully the pointedly unwelcoming combination works as intended and the short trip is blessedly uneventful.

Arthur and Charles are both in the process of loading up their horses, but Lenny is nowhere to be found. You breathe out a sigh of relief at that as it would’ve been beyond mortifying if your argument had caused you to be the last one to arrive.

“Gents,” you greet as you approach your horse. The cheer that you infuse the word with sounds fake, even to your own ears, but if the men pick up on this they don’t mention it.

You’re sure that your spat with Javier hadn’t been loud enough to reach them all the way over here, but gossip in the camp spreads faster and easier than legs in a cathouse so they’ve probably gotten an embellished account by now. Thankfully the pair of them are some of the most kindhearted men you’ve ever had the pleasure of knowing, and they won’t pry or shame you for your actions regardless of what they’ve been told.

True to form, they greet you in kind before asking if you’ve seen the youngest of your little party, and you shake your head. “Thought he’d be over here by now,” you say with a shrug.

“I swear to god if that boah’s still sleepin’,” Arthur mutters as he turns his eyes back towards the camp proper. Charles is already one step ahead of him, however. Sitting atop Taima gives him a better vantage and he easily spots the teen over by Strauss’s wagon. The older man doesn’t even bother with looking himself, instead choosing to scream, “Lenny! Get the molasses outta yer ass, boah!” across the expanse.

Lenny picks up the pace at the beckoning. Long legs carry him across the distance at a decent clip and within a minute he’s sliding up next to you. He gives Arthur a sheepish grin as he shrugs helplessly. “I uhh, I had a hole in my pants, man; had to get that seen to first.”

Remembering the trousers that you’d seen Tilly with before you look him over and—yup. Same ones. The sight leaves you huffing in amusement, but the feeling is quickly shadowed by everything that came afterwards.

We were okay, fine ‘n’ fuckin’ dandy—how the hell did that change so fast? You quickly shake the melancholy away. Now’s not the time or place to deal with your personal shit; distracted minds only ever lead to people getting hurt or worse.

Unaware of you inner turmoil, the men share a laugh before moving on to talking about the plan.

“Alright,” Arthur starts, “Charles is gonna ride on ahead and look for a good ambush spot outside of town, and I want one of you to go with ‘em.”

“I’ll go,” Lenny offers, as eager to help as ever.

His older flashes him a smile as he claps him on the shoulder. “Good man. That means me and you,” he nods his head in your direction, “are heading into town. Ruth says that they’re not supposed to be leaving out until sometime after ten, but I’d rather keep eyes on them all the same.”

“Fair enough,” you concede with a shrug.

“I already have a couple of places in mind,” Charles says as he gives his horse a few loving pats to the neck, “so it shouldn’t take too long. Want us to meet you back in Valentine after?”

Arthur nods. “It’s better if we’re not all seen in one place, so you two should head on over to Keane’s. I’ll linger around Smithfield’s, and ____ can take the hotel. Sound good?” When he gets answers in the affirmative he gives a gruff hum of approval. “Good. Alright folks, this should be an easy one, and if everything goes accordin’ to plan we’ll be done well before noon.”

“Aw come on Arthur, don’t say that,” Lenny moans as he swings himself up into Maggie’s saddle. “You’ll jinx us for sure.”

“Never took you for the superstitious type,” Charles comments.

“Never was, not before all this. I’m not usually one for all that ‘curses and bad juju’ stuff, but with everything that’s been goin’ on lately–”

The rest of their conversation is lost to you under the sound of their steeds’ combined hoof-falls. You and Arthur both mount up yourselves then before following after them at a more leisurely pace. A comfortable silence lingers as you steadily make your way towards Valentine and not for the first time you find yourself being distinctly grateful that Arthur is who he is. He’s not one to meddle, but he’s always there to offer an ear or a shoulder to cry on when you need it.

And he thinks he isn’t a good man. The musing leaves your lips twisting wryly.

“It’s nice to see Charles opening up more,” you comment after several long moments have passed. And it really is. You liked the man from the moment you met him, and more often than not you found yourself seeking out his quiet presence when things around camp got too rowdy. Charles has mastered the fine art of being and you can only hope that one day you’re as at peace with yourself as he so often appears to be.

Arthur hums his agreement. “Yeah. He’s a good one, that Charles—one of the best Dutch has brought into the fold in a long while.”

Unlike Micah, the unspoken subtext reads. You, like most people in the camp (and probably the world at large) can’t stand the rat bastard, but you also don’t feel like talking about him either. That man exhausts you to no end, and you’re fairly certain that just saying his name aloud has the potential to shave several hours off of your lifespan. Thankfully Arthur doesn’t seem too keen on bitching about him at the moment—odd given that it’s one of his favorite pastimes, but ‘gift horses’ and all that.

“You should’ve seen what he did to Uncle last night, nearly drove the old lush crazy,” he tells you around a laugh before laying out the scene.

Apparently the man had tried to strike up a conversation with his younger over supper only to have every starter shot down with one word answers. By the end of it all Uncle had walked away red faced, frustrated, and in dire need of something stronger than the beer he’d been drinking.

“And-and Charles, he just–” a hard spurt of laughter, “he just looks over at me and the rest of the boahs and he’s got the sliest little smirk on his face and we just lost it. He knew what he was doin’.” Though the retelling leaves much to be desired, the mirth in your brother’s voice is contagious and you find yourself laughing as well.

“That is funny. Wish I could’ve seen it for myself.”

“Mmm. Guard duty’s a bitch, huh?”

“Who you tellin’? I know why we have to do it, but dammit if it doesn’t get up my ass. At least I got one of the better shifts this time around. I was barely able to stay awake long enough to finish my stew, but at least I got a full night’s rest. Plus I didn’t have to worry about waking up Javi, so…” His name is out of your mouth before you realize it and just like that your mood loses what little levity it had managed to gain.

The man at your side sighs, though the sound isn’t one born of impatience or long-suffering; he’s always hated to see anyone within the gang at odds with one another, but especially people that are as close to him as you and Javier.

He flicks up the brim of his hat so that his eyes are fully visible when he looks over at you. “If you wanna talk about it…”

“I… I do,” you admit with a sigh of your own, “but I also don’t, not right now at least. Work first, emotional bullshit second—yeah?”

“If you’d like,” he drawls back.

You smile at him then, small and grateful, before reaching over the gap and giving his arm a squeeze. “Thanks.”

No more words are exchanged after that, none are needed. He gets it, gets you—so how is it that the man whose affections are supposed stretch far beyond that of a brother’s doesn’t?

They aren’t coming back.

Clink. Thud.

Not that they should.

Clink. Thud.

They can do better than you. Already have, really.

Clink. Thud.

He is perfect for them, has known ‘em longer, understands them in a way that you probably never will. They have history; no matter how hard you try, there’s no competing with that.

Clink. Thud.

They’re perfect together—they should be together.

Clink. Thud.

And what else did you expect? You already had your shot at love, how could you possibly think that you’d get another?

Clink. Thud.

And on the off chance that you did—have—how do you know it won’t all be snatched away from you again?

Clink. Thud. THWACK!

Javier embeds the axe into the stump with enough force to send large splinters of wood flying out from around the heavy metal head. An especially wayward piece nicks him just under his left eye, but he’s too numb—both inside and out—to notice the sting of it. His thoughts have been relentlessly following the same misery-fueled loop of self-degradation since he’d watched his amor ride out of the camp this morning.

Things had gotten awkward fast around the firepit, but he couldn’t bring himself to move. It was as if his body and mind both ceased all higher functions once he let you out of his arms, leaving him with only the capacity to hollowly stare after you as you went about readying yourself to go. Your movements were hard and jerky as you checked over your weapons and filled your pouches with tonics and salves, as clear a sign of your anger—your rage—as you were willing to show. And when you had walked past him to get to the horses… It was like he was air to you, no less than that. Some useless thing that was undeserving of even a scrap of your time or attention. Your expression was hard and your eyes blank as you passed him by without so much as even a parting glare and that’s when he knew, without a shadow of a doubt, that he had fucked up bad.

His amor is done. Their relationship is done. And it’s all his fault.

“Joder!” He hisses out the curse as he sends one of the newly quartered logs flying with a hard kick. It’s mildly satisfying, seeing the chunk of wood sail through the air, so he kicks another one. And another, and another. It’s only when the last one lands some several feet away that he pulls the axe from its resting place to start in on the pile of lumber once more.

“Dios, soy un jodido idiota,” he all but growls as the tool’s metal head embeds itself in the wood’s pale center. “Nunca seré lo suficientemente bueno–” (God, I’m a fucking idiot. / I’ll never be good enough.)

“I’ll admit my Spanish isn’t the best, but I know the sound of a man beratin’ himself when I hear it.”

Of course Hosea would be the one to come find him. He’s the only one with enough balls to approach him when he’s this pissed and welding an axe, but also enough heart to actually care—the bowl of stew and bottle of beer he holds are both further testament to the latter.

“If I said that I was fine, would you believe me and go away?” the younger man asks between chops.

Hosea chuckles a bit. “Given that you were mumblin’ to yourself somethin’ fierce just a few seconds ago—no. Look, if you don’t want to talk about it I’m not gonna make you,” he assures him. “But what I am gonna ask you to do is to sit down for a bit.”

“Why?”

“Because workin’ yourself half to death won’t help anything.”

“What if I don’t care?”

“You do.”

“I don’t.”

“Well then I do, and I can guarantee you it’s more than enough to carry the both of us ‘til you come back to your senses.”

He cuts his eyes over to the conman. “My ‘senses’ rode out of here this morning  without so much as a backwards glance.”

“So I saw,” Hosea starts as he moves to sit on the repurposed barrel. “Does this mean that you want to talk about it then?”

Javier groans loudly as he embeds the axe into the stump once again. “No. Dios mío, Hosea, please—just drop it.”

“Fine,” the man concedes with a shrug. “I’ll drop the subject, you’ll drop that axe, and we’ll both go about the rest of our day.”

“Is that an order?”

“Don’t get your hackles up, Mister Escuella—givin’ orders is more of Dutch’s thing than mine. I’d much rather lay out your options and hope that you’ll make the best choice.”

“Yes, because clearly I’ve been makin’ quality decisions all day.”

Eyes nearly as dark as his own pin him with a pointed look. “While your sarcasm isn’t appreciated, it is telling. There’s no point in cryin’ over spilled milk, my boy—all you can do is clean up the mess and try to move on. Stewin’ over what you should’ve done or said isn’t helpin’ anything. Calm yourself, get some food in your belly, sleep if you can; you’ll need a clear head if you want to fix things between the two of you.”

“How can you sound so sure?”

“Well I was married for nearly fifteen years,” Hosea reminds him. The smile that accompanies his words is as bittersweet as it always is whenever the topic is broached, though as he looks the younger man over it softens. He nods for Javier to take the seat next to him and after a few seconds of hesitation he does; when offered the bowl and bottle he accepts them without further prodding. The patriarch waits until he’s got a few good spoonfuls in him before speaking again.

“You know, the pair of your remind me a lot of me and my Bessie. We had our fair share of rough patches, especially when I couldn’t settle into the humdrum of domestic bliss she seemed so intent on—but that’s a story for another time,” he says with a wave of his hand. “The point I’m tryin’ to make is this: if you both want to make this work, you will.

“Some people think that being in love means never havin’ to say you’re sorry, but that’s the biggest crock of shit I’ve ever heard. Love is all about sayin’ you’re sorry and forgivin’ in turn. It’s reachin’ consensuses and occasionally conceding, but never compromisin’. And above all else it’s all about how much work you’re willin’ to put in. The sentiment alone won’t keep you afloat—you have to choose to stay together.”

Javier has to admit that that all makes sense—even if it takes him several long, thoughtful moments to do so—but–

“What if they don’t want to? What if they don’t come back?”

“Oh they’ll definitely come back.”

“How do you know that?”

“Well it’s actually quite simple, Mister Escuella,” Hosea starts with a chuckle, “it’s because their home is here.”

The sound he makes in reply is equal parts rude and dismissive. “This place isn’t home to any of us, Hosea.”

“Not here, as in the ground we’re standing on, dear boy—their home is you.”

His first instinct is to argue, but there’s so much confidence in the old man’s voice that he finds himself faltering. If someone who’s on the outside looking in can believe it so emphatically, why can’t he? His amor completes him in so many ways, and they’ve told him countless times now that he does the same for them… Surely they wouldn’t throw all of that away—their love away—over one stupid little fight?

They wouldn’t. Couldn’t.

Not so long as he has some say in it.

If, once all is said and done, they still wants to part ways he’ll let them go, but he’ll be damned if he’ll let what they have die without a fight.

“Ahh, now there’s the right kind of fire!” Hosea stops just short of clapping him on the shoulder, having long since learned that his younger isn’t overly fond of undue contact. Instead he gives him a broad smile before using his knees as a push off point to rise to his feet. “I know it all feels like a bit much, bein’ your first major spat and all, but when you sit down and think on it rationally, nine times outta ten you’ll find that it’s not such a big thing.”

Javier’s reply comes in the form of a noncommittal huff followed by a long pull from the dark tinted bottle. His continued sullenness only serves to make the old man smile.

“You’re a tough nut to crack, Mister Escuella, but I’ll get there yet. In the meantime please try and get some sleep. None of us want to see you passin’ out from exhaustion, and that’s to say nothin’ of the tongue lashin’ you’ll get from Susan if she thinks you’re making a burden of yourself.”

“With all the wood I just chopped, both she and Pearson should stay off my case for a while yet.”

“True. Which is why you shouldn’t bother with any further tasks. Take a rest–”

“I’d rather take a bath,” he admits. Thanks to the tight schedule he’s been forced to keep it’s been damn near a day and a half since he’s had an opportunity to do more than a cursory rubdown and he’s long since started to feel grimy.

Hosea hunches up a shoulder. “Fine then. Bath first, sleep after, yeah?”

“…Yeah.”

The older man gives him a smile and a nod before leaving him to finish the rest of his meal in peace. Now that his mind isn’t so weighed down with sorrow he’s able to enjoy the freshness of the rabbit meat and the fine blend of herbs that accompany it—compliments of Charles’ snares and one of Mary-Beth’s ‘acquisition jobs’ in town respectively. Within a few minutes the bowl is empty and the bottle soon follows suit. Not looking to make more work for the ladies than necessary, he takes both over to the washing station and cleans up his mess before gathering up what he needs and heading down to the river.

The bath does wonders for his mood, with every swipe of the rough cloth over his skin rubbing away a portion of his self-loathing and doubts, and by the time he’s dressed in a fresh set of clothes he has mostly come back to himself. Taking advantage of the noonday sun he doesn’t gather his hair up as he usually does but instead leaves it to hang loose. Though the feeling of the heavy, damp locks against his neck is unpleasant he knows it’ll be dry soon enough. As he plops down onto his makeshift bed, his lover’s scent wafts up to greet him; it leaves his heart twisting with longing and just a little bit of dread, though he’s quick to push the latter away.

Soon, he promises himself. Soon they’ll come back to this place—back to his arms, back to their home—and when they do the pair of them will talk this thing out and reach an understanding, he’s sure of it.

“Now I do want to thank you all so very kindly for your cooperation,” Arthur starts as he swings himself up into his saddle and you have to resist the urge to roll your eyes.

It seems as if spending the better part of his life under Dutch’s tutelage has endowed him with the same grandiose flair that plagues your illustrious leader, and you can only thank the Almighty that he doesn’t indulge in it overmuch.

“Now remember: going back towards Valentine will get you nowhere—well, nowhere you’ll want to be, anyway. The only place there’s a future for you is out there, across the Dakota at Wallace Station on the train that waits for you. Right?”

A dozen-plus voices, shrill with fear and just a touch frantic, rise up in agreement; the owners of said voices are tied to the wheels of the ransacked wagons that sit before your little group of outlaws. Though they’re all more or less in the state in which you’d found them, they’re a bunch of gentle folk; all it took to cow them were a few well-placed shots and some rather colorful language.

Arthur and Lenny had walked them through tying themselves up while you and Charles had made sure that there weren’t any enterprising guards among them lying in wait. In the end it hadn’t taken you more than a solid twenty minutes to get them squared away and their valuables stashed on your respective horses. All the while the captives behaved as they were expected to. Crying, cursing, praying—all typical responses to being held at gunpoint and relieved of all your worldly possessions–

“Thank you for this, sir! I won’t soon forget the lesson you and your compatriots taught me here today!”

–and then there’s Slias Spatchcock.

Apparently the man’s some type of up-and-coming actor known for his portrayal of outlaws like yourselves. You can only shudder to think what that says about the state of the industry as a whole because this jackass can barely tell the business end of a pistol from his goddamn elbow.

Arthur had entertained a few of his questions—mostly just as a way to get the idiot to shut up—and in exchange the man had promised to model his next performance after the “–rough ‘n’ tumble gunslinger, whose eyes are as green as jade, but as hard as flint.” You’re pretty sure that nobody besides you had noticed the slight flush that had crept up the older man’s neck at the words, but you’re enough, really. You’d never tease him about it, he gets enough shit from everyone about everything as is, but you like to think of it as further proof of his allure.

Everywhere he goes just about every one of every gender finds their eyes trailing after Mister Morgan for one reason or another, though he’s loathed to notice this, let alone admit it. Hell, even now, with several of the women (as well as Silas) looking up at him with a curious combination of lust, fear, and anger he still doesn’t see it.

“See that you don’t, Mister Spatchcock,” the man of the hour replies with a tip of his hat.

“Here.” Charles’ voice is much louder than usual in deference to the distance between him and the captives; the dull thud of a knife embedding itself into the ground just a few scant feet away from one of the men’s boots punctuates the extremely short sentence. “Remember—if you try to give chase we will shoot to kill.”

It’s with this last grim reminder that the four of you set off back towards Valentine. Once you’re a good ways away you find a nice secluded spot to divvy up the loot. Surprisingly there isn’t too much of note in the haul; a decent amount of jewelry, some actual cash, and a few books whose value is found in their ability to entertain. Of course the camp gets its due right off the top, but you’re all still left with nearly sixty dollars and a few trinkets apiece. With that last bit of business taken care of you all go your separate ways.

Charles turns back the way you came, citing a need to make sure your victims don’t get any cute ideas. Lenny’s heading back to the camp to drop off the offering as well as to catch some sleep before his shift on guard duty, and you can only assume that Arthur will be joining him; this leaves the three of you to fall into step as you headed back towards civilization.

The men chat as you go—mostly about the heist itself, with Arthur giving his younger a few pointers—and you’re content enough to let them talk around you. Though the mildly euphoric feeling of a job well done rests warm in your chest, you can’t quite shake the melancholy that still shrouds you. You rather enjoy this particular aspect of your life, being a Robin Hood for a new generation, and the only thing that makes it better is having the people you love best at your side as you partake in it. You’ve always loved pulling off jobs with Javi, and you had thought he felt the same, but the way he acted this morning…

You sigh heavily as you mentally push the thought, and the anger that follows it, away; you’re not going to let him ruin the rest of this day for you. In fact, you’re going to treat yourself. You’ve already rented a room at Saints as part of your cover, and you don’t see any reason why you should let it go to waste. Yes, a nice hot bath will do you a world of good, as will a decent meal–

And the camp’s doing pretty well for itself. Between all of us workin’ and Charles and Arthur’s huntin’ skills we aren’t exactly wantin’ for too much. I could get myself something nice, maybe look into getting a new part for my pistol…

Lenny’s farewell snaps you back into the present and you return it with a nod of your head, as well as a warning for him to look after himself. The young man huffs a bit at your words, but doesn’t brush them off completely—can’t, not with the manner of luck you’ve all had lately. After one last tip of his hat he’s spurring Maggie on as they speed back towards the Overlook.

“You’re not going with him?” you ask your brother. He’s been running himself especially ragged these past couple of weeks and you’d thought that he would jump at the chance to sleep in his own bed.

“Much rather sleep in an actual bed,” he replies when you say as much. “Besides there’re a few things I want to do in town before we inevitably get run out of it.”

You laugh a bit. “Fair enough. Would you… care for some company?”

Despite your bond the question is posed tentatively. Arthur doesn’t take nearly enough time for himself and you feel no small amount of self-loathing for impeding on his rare allowance, but you’re not exactly thrilled with the idea of being left alone with your thoughts right now. Thankfully the “Sure” you get is quick and genuine.

“Feels like forever since we’ve done anything, just you ‘n’ me. But first I’d like to take a bath, if you don’t mind. I’ve got to smell like a goat’s ass by now and can’t look much better.”

“You’re not alone there. Meet you at Smithfield’s in a couple of hours then?”

He tosses you a wink that leaves you scoffing. “It’s a date.”

Freshly scrubbed and donned in the clean clothes you always leave stored on your horse’s pack, you meet a rather dapper Arthur in Smithfield’s Saloon at a quarter past three. Apparently he hadn’t spent quite as long soaking his cares away as you did; his hair and beard both have been seen to, with the former being a good several inches shorter and well tapered on the sides, and the latter not nearly so shaggy as last you seen him. You let out an appreciative whistle when you slide into the chair across from him at the table for two.

“Lookin’ sharp, Mister Morgan.”

“I–” He stops short when he sees the look on your face. You’d already told him to lay off that self-depreciating bull, and while you’re sure he still gets up to it when you’re not around, when you are he knows it’s a no-go. “Thanks,” he starts again. “You’re lookin’ mighty nice yourself.”

There’s nothing special about the plain ensemble you’ve thrown on, but you don’t feel the need to contradict the statement. “Well thank ya kindly, sir. Now what’s a fine specimen such as myself gotta do to get a drink ‘round these parts?”

Arthur rolls his eyes even as he chuckles before heading over to the bar. A few minutes later he returns with two glasses and a bottle of mid-shelf whiskey. “I took the liberty of putting in our lunch order,” he tells you as he pours you both a measure. “They said it should be out shortly.”

You hum your thanks as you accept your glass. You have no idea what’s on the menu today, nor does it rightly matter; the place serves what it serves and either you eat it or you don’t. Luckily their house chef is a good cook, much better than Pearson these days—though to be fair to the man, up until very recently he didn’t exactly have the best environment or ingredients to work with.

The pair of you chat about everything and nothing, mostly just catching one another up on what you’ve been getting into since settling in at the Overlook. By the time the barmaid is bringing out your meal you’ve fallen into reminiscing about the members of your cobbled family that you’ve lost. You share a toast in their honor before digging in.

“So, what do you want to do with the rest of the day?” Arthur asks once your plates have been taken away.

You shrug. “I was thinking about investing in a new pair of boots since these have certainly seen better days, maybe a part or two for my pistol too. If there’s anything left after that I’ll pick up a few things for the ladies just ‘cause.”

He hums in that way he does as he leans more fully back in his chair, a truly contented smile playing at his lips. “Lookin’ to treat yourself then?”

“You sayin’ I don’t deserve it?”

“Not at all. Well if that’s what you wanna get into, then that’s what we’ll do.”

“I never intended to monopolize your time, Arthur. I’m sure the absolute last thing you wanna do is putter around from shop to shop with me.”

“Nah, it’s fine,” he assures you as he rises from his seat. You give him a skeptical look as he nods expectantly towards the door, looking for any sign that he’s being overly selfless again, but for a wonder he doesn’t seem to be putting on airs.

“Well far be it from me to turn down such a strapping escort.” Ignoring his scoffing laugh you finally rise as well and head out into the town proper.

Javier awakes to the smell of coffee, much to his confusion.

It’s far too late in the day for anyone to be brewing the stuff, and the sleeping area is purposefully situated far away from the ‘kitchen’ besides. It isn’t until sleep-bleary eyes land on the little crate-slash-bedside table that he finds the culprit: the mug that you had been nursing this morning.

His brain stalls hard as memories of the harsh words and heated glares you’d exchanged come flooding back.

“God, I’m such a jackass,” he mutters under his breath as he pinches at the space between his brows.

Had he been less sleep deprived then maybe things wouldn’t have veered off so badly. He hadn’t meant to insult you or try to assert some control over you that he most certainly knew he didn’t have—he just wanted to keep you safe. That’s not so unreasonable, is it? He doesn’t think so, not with the way things have been going since the Massacre. In the time since the pair of you haven’t been apart too often, his brief trip into Valentine aside. And even then he hadn’t been too keen on the idea of leaving you alone, even if you were within the relative safety of the camp.

Logically he knows that you cannot be tucked under each other’s arms twenty-four seven—your responsibilities, as well as your sanity, won’t allow for that, but… Javier Escuella has always been a man who often times puts heart before head. It’s a habit that has gotten him into more than a few scrapes, but what went down between the pair of you may be his biggest blunder to date. Still, he has to believe that he can fix things. Even the darkest of nights have a dawn, he knows—I just need to find my sunlight.

To that end he quickly scrambles to get dressed before checking the time. It’s just a little past three in the afternoon. He has no idea when you all were set to hit up that caravan, but with any luck you’re already back and cooled down enough to tolerate his presence again.

People extend him more grace than what he probably deserves when he exits his tent, treating him as they normally would despite him showing his ass earlier. Unfortunately nobody has seen hide or hair of you, which is strange given the fact that half of the crew you set out with returned over an hour ago.

Charles and Lenny had rode in separately, with the former having broken away from the group early on. He had assumed that the others were heading back to camp, but clearly that wasn’t the case. What’s more the only one that would more than likely know where you are is fast asleep and Javier doesn’t want to wake him. That would be a dick move and a display of desperation that—well, he’s not exactly above, but not quite at the point of just yet.

“If they aren’t here they’re more than likely still in Valentine,” Charles tells him. “That would make the most sense as ____ rented a room there.”

The outlaw can feel his face harden with this new bit of information. While he knows there’s nothing more to it—to you and the man that is your brother in everything but blood—that treacherous little part of his brain that never fails to remind him just how inadequate he is when compared to the likes of Arthur Morgan rears its cruel head. Though he stays quiet it’s very obvious to the other man exactly what roads his mind have traveled down.

Charles gives him a disapproving look as he shakes his head. “Don’t do that, Javier. It’s a disservice to yourself as well as the both of them. Neither of them would ever betray your trust like that, and ____ would certainly never disrespect themselves or your relationship in such a way. I don’t know what you’ve gone through to make you think otherwise, but you’d be better off putting those issues to rest sooner rather than later.”

Though the unsolicited advice grates, Javier hears the wisdom in it. Old betrayals and past hurts have left their mark in mind and heart both, but if wants to have any hope of recovering and moving on—if he’s ever to have a real and solid future with you—then he has to move past it all.

From character to aptitude, never once in all the time that he’s known you have you ever given him any reason to doubt you in any capacity. You’ve only ever been good to him; radiating a kindness that warmed him from the inside out to melt away the ice around his heart so that love could blossom once more. How could something as inane as insecurities, ones that he’d convinced himself that he’d come to terms with long ago, come between that? Why was there ever even any room within him for that to take root and fester in the first place?

He knows the answer to this of course, and it’s a simple thing: because he let it. Had he at least tried to deal with his inner demons sooner instead of just sweeping them under the rug then maybe the pair of you wouldn’t be in this mess.

You really are a jackass, his brain silently reminds him yet again, as if it had no parts in this disaster once so ever.

Aloud, he breathes deeply before saying—admitting—“You’re right. I, uh… Thanks, Charles.”

The man nods before turning his attention back to the knife he’d been sharpening. Taking the sign of dismissal for what it is Javier heads over to the stables. He knows that fixing things won’t be so easy as uttering a simple two word apology, but as he preps Boaz for travel he’s positive that it’s definitely the perfect place to start.

“So, about that ‘emotional bullshit’…?”

You can’t help but to snort a laugh at that. “As tactful as ever.”

Arthur shrugs, chuckling a bit himself. “Never claimed to be anything other than what I am, you know that.”

“Fair enough,” you concede with a shrug. “As for the ‘bullshit’, I… I don’t even know what went wrong, honestly.”

As you proceed to lay out the whole of the situation to him, Arthur mostly keeps quiet aside from the occasional hum of acknowledgement. Once you’ve gotten it all out he goes quiet for a long moment as he considers all that has been said. When he finally does speak again he isn’t saying anything that you don’t already know, but hearing it from an outside source gives it more weight than what your thoughts alone could provide. He speaks of context and meaning, inferences and biases, and how at the end of the day you shouldn’t allow what’s little more than a simple misunderstanding to impede on what it is that you and Javier share–

“–but that’s just my thoughts on the matter. I’m nobody’s Romeo, as you well know–”

“That’s probably for the best, given the way that particular story ended.”

“Smartass. You know what I mean. But in all seriousness, I think things’ll work out in the end so long as you’re willin’ to let ‘em…” He lets the sentence trail off with a resolute nod as he takes a cigarette from an intricately engraved tin—an actual present from an admiring actor, overly-eager to please. He offers you one, shrugging again when you decline, before lighting up.

“You make it all sound so easy,” you reply as you fiddle with your bracelet. The simple gold number’s a gift from Javier for your birthday just passed, one made all the more special by the fact that he had gotten himself one to match.

“I know it’s probably not the best time to be thinking about rings and the like, but…” His words had left you both blushing at the implications as he secured the thing around your wrist with uncharacteristically shaky hands. “I still like the idea of letting the world know you’re mine, just as much as I’m yours, even in this small way…”

“That’s because it is easy,” Arthur assures you, snapping you out of the brief reverie. “Just because I’ve got shit luck with love don’t mean I don’t know it when it’s sittin’ squarely in front of me. The two of you are made for each other, and no doubt about it, but your being perfect for each other doesn’t mean that you’re actually perfect. You’re bound to make just as many mistakes as the rest of us, especially with you being so close to one another.

“Toes get stepped on, feelings get hurt—it’s only natural. The only time you need to worry is when you feel like there’s no coming back from it. You don’t feel like that, do ya? And before you answer, I’m gonna need you to push all of the dramatics aside and think on it logically.”

The look that you give him says that you can do without the sass, but you do as you’re told all the same, not that it takes much prompting. You’re hurt, sure, but even that isn’t as prominent as it had been this morning. Now you mostly just feel sad over the fact that you’re at odds with the man you love; sad and a touch embarrassed at your very public altercation. This isn’t going to be the end for the pair of you, of this you are sure, but it does shed some light on areas that you both need to work on if your relationship is to be a long and healthy one.

After letting out a drawn out breath you say, “I– No, I don’t think that at all. Clearly there are some issues that need to be addressed, but it’s nothin’ so dire as all that. I know that Javier would never purposefully hurt me in any manner any more than I’d do so to him. We both just let our emotions get the better of us this mornin’, but that ain’t exactly surprisin’, all things considered.”

Your brother hums his agreement. Though things have been markedly better this past month that isn’t saying much. The gang has only just begun to fish itself out of the mire, but there’s no saying when fate’ll decide to throw you right back into the shit. You’ve collectively got the temperament of a beaten cat, and honestly thinking on it now it’s a miracle that you and Javier managed to go this long without really snapping at each other. When you say as much Arthur laughs hardily as he gives your shoulder a fond pat.

“And just like that you’re finally able to see the forest for the trees. You’ve pretty much solved your own problem there, not that I’m surprised. You’ve always been a smart one, ____; I knew you didn’t need me telling you what you already know. All there is left to do now is kiss and make up.”

There’s an amused tilt to his lips as he jerks his chin at some unseen point behind you. You arch your brow at him, but when all he does is grin wider you turn around to find–

“Javier.” He’s here. He’s come to you.

Seeing him standing outside of Saints loosens the last bit of tension in your chest. Your feet carry you forwards without any conscious thought on your part just as Javier’s seemingly do the same. Ignoring your brother’s quip about him “–actually wanting to get some sleep tonight, so try to keep it down, alright?”, you pick up your pace until you’re standing face to face with your man.

Javier breathes out your name like a prayer to some higher power, eyes traveling over the whole of you almost as if he cannot believe that you’re actually right here in front of him. Tentative hands reach out for you, stopping just an inch short of touching, though you’re quick to bridge the gap. Despite the fact that it hasn’t even been a full half a day since last you saw one another, those interim hours felt like they ran longer, colder—and how could they not, with the way you’d left things?

An apology is slipping from between both of your lips at nearly the same time, a thing that leaves Javi taken aback.

“No-no-no,” he starts, head shaking hard, “you’ve got no reason to be sorry, amor. It doesn’t matter how worried I was, I never should’ve said what I did—or, at least, not the way that I said it.”

“But I do need to apologize,” you insist. “I know you would never belittle me like that. The way you said it definitely could’ve been better, but… I shouldn’t ‘ve, I dunno, come out swingin’ like that. I’m better than that, we both are, even if we didn’t exactly show it.”

“I… Alright then. This, uhh… This went down a lot smoother than I was expecting it to, honestly.”

You laugh a bit a that. “Yeah, well, I guess us both being at fault make it easier to forgive and be forgiven.”

“Yeah,” he replies, voice a touch sheepish, “guess so.”

You smile then, soft and sweet, as you cup his cheek with your palm. Javier is quick to lean into your touch, his own lips curling up as well before he turns to cuddle them against your hand. The tickle of his mustache against the sensitive skin causes your fingers to twitch against him, but his own hand comes up to cover yours and hold it in place; he trails his ministrations down the length of your arm, heedless of your shirt, until he’s able to kiss you properly.

Javier licks hotly into your mouth, greedily swallowing up the least little sound you make even as he strives to draw more from your throat. His hands drift down to your hips to pull you in closer as he continues to stake his claim on your lips with teasing nips and soothing swipes of his tongue that you succumb to with a sigh that is content, if laced through with longing. Your hands curl feebly against the silky brocade of his vest, needing something—anything, really—to help keep you grounded. But for all your efforts, you’re sure that the only thing keeping you upright is the arms that have since coiled around your middle.

You know that your not-so-little display of affection has to be scandalizing the good people of this small town, but neither of you have a mind to care overmuch. It isn’t until a familiar voice tells you that “You’ve already got a room, goddammit, so kindly go and use it” that you finally decide to make the short trek into the hotel’s interior. Either the receptionist recognizes you, despite the man that’s all but affixed to your face, or he wisely chooses not to confront you—again, due to the man that’s all but affixed to your face. In any event you make it to your room without incident, with Javier only pulling away long enough for you to open and then quickly close the door behind you.

When he kisses you this time it isn’t nearly as frantic as before. He’s thorough, taking his time as he remaps the whole of your form with eyes and lips and hands, as if he were actually able to forget the look and feel of you in such a short span of time. Or maybe his touch is more reverent than that, an act of worship for the body that he thought he might never be able to touch again—it would certainly explain the promises to do better for you and by you that he’s been steadily murmuring in between kisses.

There’s a ceremony to the way he removes your clothes, and it turns the simple act into a supplicant’s display of devotion. The hesitancy that he’d shown earlier is nowhere to be found as he traces over the lines of you now with calloused fingers and heated breath. There is no part of you that goes untouched, no bit left unseen, and by the time the last article is removed you’re left naked in more ways than the obvious.

Still on his knees from where he helped you out of your pants, Javier looks up at you with an expression that can only be described as awestruck, though as he kisses his way back up your body it changes into something a bit more love drunk.

“Mi corazon,” he sighs as he cradles your face between his work-rough palms, “so beautiful. How did I ever get so lucky, huh?”

You’re sure that he can feel the heat that creeps into your cheeks at that, and you’re quick to cover up your flustered state with another kiss. What starts off as an innocuous little peck soon turns into something that has you writhing against one another. Javier captures your bottom lip between his teeth, giving the plush flesh a little suckle before slipping his tongue into your mouth. He owns the kiss, owns you—body, heart, mind, soul—and all you can really do is receive this outpouring of affection and lust.

When he finally pulls away some long moments later he doesn’t go far. His forehead leans heavily against your own as his hands pull you tighter against the bulge that has been growing impossibly harder this whole time.

“Tell me to stop, amor,” he says, the words breathed directly against your parted lips, “tell me right now, or I won’t be able to.”

You regard him through half lidded eyes that flutter close as you sigh out your simple reply of, “Mm, then don’t.”

And he doesn’t.

Slow ministrations are replaced by harried breaths and eager fingers and the all-consuming need to touch, claim—to feel and be felt in turn. It transforms the removal of his clothes into a nearly feral affair, one that sees seams ripping and buttons popping. Later you’ll both come to regret the fruits of your impatience, but in the now your only real concern is the more-more-more your bodies are crying out for.

Javier backs you up until you’re tumbling backwards onto the bed with a startled squawk. He follows you down with a chuckle, a dark and deep roll of a sound that would’ve surely turned your knees to smoke had you not already been lying down. Of course your man knows the effect he has on you, and ever as always he’s quick to take advantage of it, telling you to lie back so that he can “–love on you a bit, yeah?”

He leans back just enough for you to make yourself comfortable and then he’s on you again. Hot, opened mouth kisses are slurred from jaw to neck—where he stops to leave a few bites and sucks that are sure to blossom into bruises come nightfall—and beyond. His trek stops just past your bellybutton, with him nosing at the skin there. He looks up at you then, eyes impish as he takes in your mussed state and annoyed pout.

When you whine out his name he responds with a cheeky “Yes, amor?” that leaves you gritting out a sound that’s caught somewhere between a groan and a laugh.

“Your eagerness is cute, baby, but you’re gonna have to use your words.”

“Ugh, fine! Fuckin’– Touch me, please.”

You realize your mistake a moment too late. And when he’s laving over your nipple, its twin caught between teasing calloused pads, you know that you have no one but yourself to blame.

“Patience is a virtue, cariño,” he reminds you when you start to whine, his thumbnail giving your nipple a pointed flick. “Now be good, and let me have my fun. It’s been too long since last I had you writhing all pretty-like underneath me, and I’m gonna take my time with you…”

When he puts it like that how can you do anything but lay back and receive his care?

Suckles that leave you sighing out his name are punctuated by nips that see the appellation scaling up into a whine. Tugs and pinches and the scrape of blunted nails—the roughness is always followed by something to soothe, and the dichotomy leaves you writhing with anticipation.

“Ja-vi~” the second syllable sticks in your throat as the pleasure-pain of an especially vicious pinch shoots through you, “ahhh, fuck! Please. I-I need…”

The desperation in your plea sees him finally pulling his attention away from your chest. You have no idea what it is he sees when he finally looks at you properly, but it softens his gaze. His expression goes gooey as he comes to hover over you; the position that he takes up is familiar, but one that long hours and disparate schedules have lent a level of elusiveness. Having it—him—back leaves you almost delirious with several types of longing. You want everything, from him and with him, and you want it all at once. The whole of your desire is laid out on display, you’re sure, but there’s no shame in it—and how could there be, in a love so pure?

Needy hands reach out and are instantly quelled by a warm body that is more than willing to oblige. The heated press of lips is accompanied by wandering hands that drag themselves along your torso. With experience guiding him, he alternates between feather-light caresses and purposeful strokes, always choosing the one that will leave you gasping out your pleasure into your shared kiss.

By the time he finally reaches your center you’re soaked, a thing that comes as no great surprise to either of you. Javier runs playful fingers through the proof of your arousal, gathering up a portion and smearing it across their pads before popping them into his mouth. You swallow thickly as you watch the near hypnotic way his tongue laves over the digits’ length, damn near cum on the spot when he slides the whole of them past his lips with a satisfied groan. You both know exactly what it is he’s doing to you, but that knowledge does little to detract from the provocative display.

When he releases his fingers some long seconds later they’re still glistening, albeit for another reason entirely, and you find yourself biting your lip at the sight. For his part Javier just smirks at you as he comes to lean into your space once more.

“Fuck, you always taste so damn good, baby.” As if to prove his point further he kisses you hard and deep, his tongue dragging heavily along yours to make sure you’re able to savor the fullness of your tangy musk.

His laugh is breathy when he finally pulls away with a little smack of lips—lips that he licks soon after, almost as if he cannot bear to waste even a smidge of your flavor.

“I gotta get a little bit more of that– You don’t mind, do you?”

“Fuck no.”

“Heh. Didn’t think so…”

His tongue is molten when it finally drags along the length of you. He groans deeply as he laps up the fluids that all but coat your twitching sex, and the vibrations leave your hips bucking wildly against his hold. It’s a practice in futility as every pass of the slick muscle against your heated flesh creates a bigger mess for him to clean—not that either of you are complaining.

Pursed lips suckle at your weak spot in a move that leaves you keening while long, calloused fingers prod at your entrance. The sheer amount of pre alone would probably be more than enough for him to slip comfortably inside, but he spits anyway—the hot, viscous glob allowing him to slip two fingers inside in one go. Pain and pleasure briefly mingle at the stretch, though the discomfort soon fades out leaving only a burning want that has you bearing down. Javier curses hotly at the added pressure against his digits, his movements’ efforts redoubling as he strokes and prods at your fluttering walls, focusing in on that spot that always leaves you seeing stars.

“‘M close,” you tell him, the words so slurred that you barely recognize them, “‘M close, so damn close, baby—fuck!”

“Mmm, then do it, amor, cum. I wanna feel it, taste it– Give it to me.”

With how wound up you are it doesn’t take much more than a few rolls of your hips to send you careening over the edge. A week’s worth of denial sees your orgasm washing over you with all the force of a tidal wave, overwhelming you completely as it drags you into an abyss of pleasure. The gasping of your man’s name is prayer and plea both—for just as he is the only one that could ever lead you to this beautiful ruin, he’s likewise the only one who can see you through to calmer shores.

“So good for me, pretty baby, cumming like that. God, you’re beautiful.”

Though he has been steadily murmuring such words of praise since you first fell apart, you’re just now lucid enough to fully comprehend them. You feel your face flush even as your core gives a nearly painful throb. You know it’s greedy of you, wanting more when you’ve only just come down from your high, but that’s what this man does to you—and thankfully for you as well.

If your eyes are alight with flames then Javier’s are a roaring inferno from where he hovers over you. He kisses you deeply, easily stealing what little air you’ve managed to take in before asking, “Think you can give me one more?”

The question is rhetorical, of course, but you give him a shaky nod anyway. He slots his hips in against your then, and the fit is as perfect as ever. Having him so close to where you need him most is too enticing a thing, and you find yourself rutting against him without thought. The drag of his heavy cock over your heat is exquisite, pulling whimpers and whines from you as you continue to grind yourself against him. You man humors you for a few moments, allowing you to wet his cock with your arousal—all the while a decadent little smirk pulls at his lips despite the light pant he keeps up—though once he thinks your efforts are sufficient he’s lining himself up and sinking slowly in.

“Fucking tight” he growls at the same moment you groan out something about the stretch. Were you any less wrapped up in your pleasure you might’ve laughed a bit, but as it stands you only cling to the body above you as he sets up a steady pace.

Javier takes you deep and slow, with the sinuous roll of his hips only interrupted by the little snap that punctuates them. You can’t help the breathy whimpers and choked moans that push their way out of your throat any more than you can keep your fingers from digging into his shoulders, scalp, arms, and any other bits of him that your restless hands can get ahold of. Javi is just as bad off as you, having dropped his head back into the cubby between your cheek and shoulder long ago to nose at your sweat-slicked neck, the hot, wet drag of his tongue against the overly-sensitive skin there oftentimes turning into a nip or suck. His moans are almost deafening from this close, the feeling of them breaking hot and moist against you making you shiver.

“Dios, ____, baby, amor—fuck, I’m–” The rest of his sentence devolves into a growl that originates somewhere deep in his gut. “Ooooh just like that, baby, siempre me tomas tan bien. (You always take me so good.)

“I’m close,” he starts again, “so fuckin’ close, I can—hah! I can tell you are too. You wanna cum with me, yeah? You gonna do that for me, amor?”

Your replying nod is frantic as you pull him impossibly closer. “Yes, yes—please, I wanna…”

Javier promises to give you what you want—what you both need—and he delivers with hips angled just so and calloused fingers furiously rubbing against your most sensitive area.

Thoughts turned hazy from your mounting bliss whiteout completely before fireworks erupt throughout the whole of your being. You arch hard against Javi’s hold on you, hips bucking in spastic little thrusts that you could never hope to contain. Your shuddering sob of a moan holds for an impressively long time before petering out into something weaker as you finally collapse back onto the bed.

For his part you man rides the wave of your body, somehow managing to match your jerky movements enough to see himself through to his own end, shuddering his way through his release. With his eyes pinched shut and your name falling from his lips like a litany you’d almost swear that he was petitioning some exalted being. You cannot help but to admire his beauty in this moment, pushing his hair away from his sweat-slicked face before running your thumbs over the apples of his cheeks as you wait for him to come back to himself.

Once he finally settles, Javier presses a sloppy kiss to the corner of your mouth before maneuvering you both so that you’re tucked in against his side. His fingers skitter back and forth over your ribs as he presses a few more kisses against your dewy skin in between declarations of love and praise. The moment is tender and perfect, everything you want and need, so why do you feel like you’re on the verge of tears?

You push back against the prickling heat that stings your eyes and tightens your throat, burrowing in deeper against Javier’s side in hopes of comforting yourself as well as to keep the sudden burst of melancholy hidden away. It’s not something you want to deal with right now, not when your emotions have been all over the place for the better part of a day, but Javier has always been able to read you like an especially well-loved book. He urges you from your hiding spot with gentle hands and soft pleas for you to “–look at me, please, baby?”

When you finally gather up enough courage to meet his gaze your heart stalls for a beat or two. There’s just so much love there—raw and unfiltered—that you almost cannot bear to hold his stare, but something within you, perhaps that selfsame unadulterated love, won’t allow you to turn away.

“No tears, sweetheart,” he murmurs despite the fact that any have yet to fall. “I’m here, and I’ll always be here. Always. For as long as you’ll have me.”

Your voice is small, and your smile laced through with something vulnerable when you ask, “You promise?”

“I promise. There’s nowhere else for me. My heart, my home, my whole entire life—it’s all in you, amor. Wherever you go, I swear I’ll always be right there, by your side.”

His words are simple, deceptively so, but they’re your shared truth and they’re more than enough.

© notepadsandtealeaves, 2021 || Please do not repost, translate, or otherwise alter or distribute my works without my express permission. And for the love of god keep it away from Youtube and TikTok lol…

[penname-artist]

The Paper Guard - Sum Shit

Original thingy! Needed a place to put information of characters while they were being developed, and I thought y’all may maybe want to see where it’s getting right now.

Spade - Spade is the main protagonist of the series, a normal everyday human teenager who accidentally finds themselves in the midst of the chaoticly created realms of...well we don’t really know what, yet.

- Roughly 18-19 years of age

- Non-Binary

- They’re in the middle of the pack right now at a comfortable 5′6″

- Spade is not their born or legal name, but a nickname they got and then adapted as their name later

- Spade is bisexual, and crushing hard on a girl in their school that hasn’t noticed them

Penn - Yes the two n’s are on purpose, this is Penn the CHARACTER not Pen the...”me”. Anways Penn is the mentor-ish character of TPG, but also kind of the main focus and a huge part of the main storyline and plot.

- Short hoe standing at a proud 5′3″

- Literally a wanted criminal in like eight different dimensions

- She has Magic Powers and shit that, for the most part, are tied to her emotions (kind of Steven Universe-ish but like, imagine instead of a pacifist you have a um...an arsonist-)

- The so-called “evil twin” to Paige, and also definitely wayyyyy cooler than

- Was kind of born to be cursed, that’s all I will say on her backstory

Paige - Easily the lawful good of the group, though her development takes her far beyond her stubborn by-the-book nature.

- Just like her sister, she’s also 5′3″

- She basically exists to be organized. If she ISN’T organized she’s- well...no one knows. She’s never not organized.

- She’s the protector of their main city, and she wears fancy armor to events - but rarely does any real fighting

- As a member of the alleged rulers of their realms, Paige is honored to be the humble keeper of their ancient kingdom archives...and by that I mean she is a glorified librarian

- She has the ability to just. Sprout wings. On command. Only adds another layer to her “perfect angel” reputation.

- She also has an ability to create Things(tm) out of Stuff(tm). It’s harder to explain because it’s not actually set in stone what the Stuff(tm) is, but it’s probably a water or a light substance that takes physical or semi-physical form (think Elsa with ice, or Pearl with holograms)

Bash - Easily the HARDEST character to grasp the design of so far. His hair alone has caused me so much pain. Anyways. Bash is the meat wall of the gang, and the first on this list to actually be an antagonist. More of a side-character for the majority of the story until he has his moments to shine. I will get you his concept art eventually but for now I will say this: he is B U F F.

- Bash is at least a whole head taller than basically everyone right now, at 6′4″

- He packin’ the g u n s, the a b s, the j a w l i n e. This boi is fit and everyone needs to think twice before picking a fight with him.

- He’s very brutish and fights fists only. Also shirtless. But thank God he does wear pants. (Concept art is coming soon I swear)

- Bash has a power where he can transform into animals! Or at least, ones he relates with and has certain connections to. These currently include the bison, the boar, and the bull. No, I didn’t actually plan them to all be b-words as well, but hey, whatever works!

- He already has a nickname I gave him during his hair concepts that I am absolutely keeping well into the stories. He is the Bashtard and no one can deny that.

Celesta - My intergalactic snake lady!!! She has a pyramid. For a head. No, really. Also she’s probably like a true neutral, because while she does have some things which govern her she also has this weird chaotic side and like- like you would think the immortal goddess-level bitch who IS time and space in and of itself (probably) would have more important shit to worry about, and yet she hyperfixates on human television dramas and rom-coms.

- She is the chillest bitch to ever chill. Ever. Bash could storm into her dimensional space, talking shit, steaming with rage, and she just be sitting on her ethereal cloud like “I see, I see”. I mean, if you lived for millenias it’s hard to not be incredibly chilled out.

- She doesn’t actually have a height yet because her galactic form is always floating and has the ability to change it’s own size and shape

- Her space snake’s name is Era. When she takes a human form (woah she can do that-) he becomes an object of some sort that she is then able to summon

- Because she is so fucking c h i l l, no one knows the full extent of her powers, but they do know she has immense knowledge of all the universe, a fairly clear perception of future outcomes, and an ability to see and recreate things from the fabrics of any individual’s mind. And yet, she uses her time to watch Friends and laugh at cat memes. This woman transcends all logic.

Inx - Finally, the main antagonist. She has VERY little information right now for a few reasons. One, it’s a secret. Two...half of it I haven’t finished. So. *ahem*

- Inx is about 5′8″ give or take

- She is the ONLY other actual mortal human being on this list besides Spade. She came from the human realm, and now lives a semi-immortal life within these other created dimensions of existence

- She’s an extremely unfeeling character, with a logical and tactical approach to everything. There is a very good reason she has a very high ranking in this world.

- She doesn’t have any *actual* powers, because she is still at her core a human. She does however have extended life / semi-immortality for “reasons” relevant to the plot. What she lacks in magic, however, she has more than made up for with intelligence and technology.

Other notes and shit - cuz I could, I felt like it

- When I say we don’t really know what the realms “are” yet, I really just mean they don’t have names yet. They are dimensions created purely by accident from the minds of humans in the human world, who drew fun characters one day and then they became, well, real things that existed in an alternate realm. Every realm is a different aesthetic existence. You’ve got a medeival place, a sci-fi universe, a wild west world, a village where everything is made out of fur, I don’t fucking know man, if man could create it, it now exists here

- Inx, Bash, and Celeta are sort of the main teir of quote-on-quote “antagonists”. Though Inx is more of a villain, Bash is more of an obstacle, and Celesta is really just a plot device at times. Though, a fun one!

- Penn has a history with everyone, Paige included, and it’s not until Spade shows up and she has to help them get home that she’s forced to dig up every last one of those histories with these guys.

- Granted this series takes off and becomes a thing, it will be very show-like, episodic in nature even though it is plot-driven still. If and when I get my butt in gear and write this motherfucker, it will have chapters equivalent to episodes and books equivalent to seasons. Why? Because this would work a whole hell of a lot better as a TV show but I work with what I have, and what I have are two hands and a Google Document.

[ryder616]

Rewatching Deals with our Devils

AKA the episode where the second load of good intentions is delivered to finish paving the road to the fascist mind prison. With a side order of red herrings, because where’s the fun otherwise.

Radcliffe glimpses briefly at the Darkhold - by May’s request - and shuts it down in fear, then AIDA reads it - by Fitz’s request - and ends the episode working on some holographic brain with the same Darkhold-inspired gloves she used to build the gateway. It’s very ominous, but she is not the one we needed to worry about just yet.

In retrospect, it becomes obvious. Radcliffe has no ethical concern that cannot be immediately superseded by the prospect of cool, cutting edge science and the Darkhold is the key to the coolest and most cutting. There was no way he could glimpse at the unlimited possibilities offered by the Darkhold and not being seduced, even  if the book didn’t exert a corrupting influence. And it also does that.

Poor Agents. How often has this happened to them? To save someone, they unwittingly end up paving the way for a bigger crisis down the road. Coulson led Garrett to the GH 325 to save Skye, Fitz made Hive’s return possible to save Simmons, and now May enabled Radcliffe’s descent into mad science to save Coulson and Fitz. No good deed is ever not followed by some crazy, quasi apocalyptic horror later.

Too Legit To Quit:

Unlike Robbie, who can still be himself with the Rider inside him, at least until the Rider exerts itself fully, Mack didn’t seem to have much control at all.

It looked like the Rider latched on Mack’s desire to bring Eli to justice for the murdered redshirts and, maybe because there was no deal and he forced itself on him, Mack’s personality was overwhelmed.

It’s also possible that five years of co-habitation have taught Robbie how to assert himself and he was equally overwhelmed in the beginning. One more thing we’ll likely never know about live action Robbie.😢

Biochemical Shenanigans:

What a difference two years and at least 3 Inhuman personal friends make. Back in S2, when she had no knowledge of Inhumanity and her last alien experience had been a deadly virus, Jemma fumbled dealing with Skye’s transformation. With Vijay, however, she knows what it is all about and there’s no fear or overeaction. Only expertise and the desire to help.

Stuff:

This is evil. Well. It’s not good, that’s for sure.

Whatever you're gonna say, don't. I see the way you're all looking at that screen. We don't know what happened. [...] it’s S.H.I.E.L.D. Impossible things happen all the time. [...] I know it’s crazy, but Coulson came back from the dead, Fitz pulled Simmons through space through a rock, and Robbie’s head lights on fire. Oh, thank Asgard, at least one of you has watched the show!

We need to approach this with level heads. What? No! How is that going to be any fun?😁

No. Daisy’s right. Oh, I do like the sound of that...

[The Darkhold] might be our only shot at saving them. -- Melinda, don’t you dare. I believe this is the first time Mack calls her by her first name.

I know the feeling, when someone’s gone, and I don’t feel that now. Oh, girl...I wish I could give you all the hugs.

Regular Mack is already a pretty cool guy, what with the shotgun-axe, that body, that voice and his motorcycle. Mack Rider, though? Next level.🔥🔥🔥

One of my favorite things, VFX wise, is all the different looks for the various Ghost Riders. Robbie has a cracked skull and Johnny Blaze had the bullet hole, since that’s how they died. Mack’s and, later in the season, Coulson’s skulls don’t have visible scars but they still differ in shape and size a bit. Very cool.

Fitz still calls Coulson “sir” even though technically I don’t think he outranks him at this stage.

Burrows again with The Suitcase(tm).

You’re not allowed to be gone. Not yet. Not ever would be my choice. Unfortunately for you both, it’s not up to me.😢

Thank you, someone listens! What a mood. This is basically me watching the show and yelling at the characters. Except they never listen to me. 🤭

Never tell your brother about this next part. How happy am I that Daisy drove both Lola and the Hell Charger? Extremely.

What's going on? -- Oh, nothing. Just Mack's the Ghost Rider now, but you can't hear us, so... bloody hell. Another big mood and this is me again, after I have yelled at the characters for 30 minutes straight and have finally resigned myself to the inevitable. Until the following episode, when the cycle begins anew. 😁

It heals itself. Scientifically impossible self-healing car. 🤣🤣 

They're out of their minds. They are out of their minds. Driving off against orders... with no helmet? Mack knows better. I love how Mace’s already at the point where insubordination hardly fazes him anymore but carelessness with safety measures? That’s unacceptable.🤣

See the younger Reyes boy gets some counseling. Mace is good people.

You... What's your name? -- Nathanson, ma'am. What can I do? -- Get lost, Nathanson. And Poor Nathanson remains unwanted and unloved.

[Aida]’s as above board as a secret android could be. 🤣🤣

Daisy knocks a guy off with a cool car manoeuvre, then fights the other two hand to hand with one arm, taking the gun when she needs one. Master May would be proud.

What are you so angry about? Hey, be happy he’s not calling you traitor.😁

Because you used to make decisions like that all the time, and then you stepped down. [...] Everybody is trying to do their best to prevent another tragedy... like Lincoln. For you and Daisy, that meant throwing in the towel, but we built Aida to protect agents like him. And boy, is it going to backfire spectacularly...

I didn't throw in the towel. I ran an illegal spy agency using powered operatives on American soil. Do you think the President loved that about me? I had to step down so that you could all continue in S.H.I.E.L.D. Yet Coulson would have suggested to put one of those very same powered operatives, who had been illegally spying for him for the better part of three years, as his replacement, if Daisy hadn’t gone inconveniently rogue. How was that ever going to fly with the President and the military?

You handed it over to a director who betrayed Simmons! He sent her off, God knows where! Fitz, calm down. She’s still on the planet, still in the present, still in her native dimension. Save the meltdown for a real crisis, mate. 😁

On your left. [Daisy steers right]. Fair enough. Dude. She hardly listens when it’s corporeal people telling her what to do...😂

If this works, I could die happy. -- If it fails, you might die quickly. 🤣 🤣 🤣

Give me my vengeance on Eli. Settle my score, and I'll settle yours...All of yours! Robbie, you are a terrible negotiator. At least try to haggle a little before going all in?

You know, when this is over...you and I have a bottle of Haig to open. When this is over, she might prefer motor oil...

[nepsah]

im not done rambling apparently - this is mostly abt Des and only Des

Metas have a few different life stages and also grow Much Faster than humans/other races - they can literally grow overnight when they’re ready? anyways the stages are Toddler -> Child -> Teen -> Adult -> Elder

“Elder” =/= old, its basically a demigod stage that only certain individuals ever reach

Deskri finally reached Elder a few months ago.....

newer Meta is a bit more flexible w/how powers work - before Des was mostly just illusion based (logic being makeup = transformative?) but these days he’s primarily Shadow and Illusion... and upon growing to Elder, also Water (Liquid aspect of his item)

His Elder Quest (to grow to elder they have to undergo a quest of sorts) involved finding the “key to inner peace” (or was it strength..)

Which to Des, at this point, sounded like a load of shit

wait let me back up...

When Broken rebooted the setting, they came up for an IC reason as to why the “school” had closed down

basically Metas are kind of controversial in universe? in most places they aren’t really regarded as People - they’re thought of more as uh... objects - or in some cases, weapons.

anyway some kids were killed in the city neighboring the Academy and Rasiel got blamed for it - an angry mob of humans stormed the school and basically destroyed everything, scattering all of the inhabiting Metas to the winds

Now at the time, Des+fam were out of town and didn’t know wtf had happened- they came back to ruins and angry humans - in the chaos of it all, everyone got split up and lost contact with one another

(Des also did not Know about the Raz thing -- as far as he knew, Rasiel had just disappeared again one day and hadn’t come back yet)

20 years pass in-universe, and Rasiel, disguised as a man named “Rhun” reopens the ‘school’ but as a Sanctuary instead, for All Metas. caveat being they can’t keep Metas who have a criminal record there lest they risk getting Everyone in danger

Des ends up being one of the first ones to show up and he’s in a Real Bad State - the last 20yrs were Not good to him and it Shows.

Raz nearly fuckin loses it on sight but y’know, he’s in Disguise, he can’t show?? anything?? he assumes Des Knows about what happened and assumes he Believes it (Rasiel did not actually kill any children.... he was framed)

bunch of stuff happens, Des figures it out bc of course he does, Raz was like the light of his life for like, ever. they almost sort of?? get back together?? des is in no state to be with anyone romantically but like, can’t express that bc he’s still scared shitless of like, everything at the moment

in the first rambly post i mentioned Manes/Malices can give powers/abilities to their hosts that have to do with their own powers etc. well Obscurite, Raz’s Malice, gave him uncontrollable anger :’)

which gets set off

which freaks des the hell out - its a bit spiral for a second there

des ends up leaving the Sanctuary for a few reasons (one being Kagyaku is still out there and he’s worried he’ll endanger ppl by being there and the other- he doesn’t want to put Raz’s real identity at risk) - i fell... out of activity for a bit so icly he just went back to what he was doing which was wandering from place to place just kinda Surviving(tm)

at some point another player’s character, Estrian, actually happens upon him when he’s injured n brings him home and lo and behold Estrian is actually staying with Raz and they are both taking care of a couple kids (Raz is actually on the run at this point bc someone tipped off a bounty hunter on who he was)

(des does not know this)

des and raz kinda half a heart-to-heart - they both apologize to each other sdlgkj before leaving des flipped from frightened-all-the-time to pissed-the-fuck-off and said a bunch of things he regretted etc

(i’m glossing over so much shit...)

des ends up stayin there for a few days - bc raz offers to let him and des says yeah he’d like to stay

but uh,.. Elder Quest pops up. Each main species of Meta has an Elder that presides over That Species -- for Angels, its Nova (the first Meta ever) - for Demons, its Avon (yes, its Nova backwards).

Avon sends Des a summoning letter for an Elder Quest and Des, being the dumbass he is, just fuckin?? leaves?? doesn’t wait ‘til morning or anything (he thinks he’ll back out of it if he has to say bye in person) so he just like. writes a goodbye note and takes off on this quest

which then uh. stalls bc i got really busy and life was annoying

but anyways The Quest that he embarked on (he was given 3 options) was to find the Key to Inner Strength (im p sure thats it...)

which to Des, sounded like a load of shit, but what does he know?

quest takes him to a city covered in fog, which has been abandoned by its inhabitants - they all moved to an island offshore... except for this one angel guy that ferries Des over there

(des is suspicious of all of this the whole time)

(also he has no cell service)

shortly after getting onto the island he overhears two women fighting - like, do the death, but one doesn’t rlly sound like she’s into it and also she sounds familiar?

the grass is thick so he remains mostly unseen until he finds them -- or rather, just the living one and holy shit, its Alice

except according to Rasiel, Alice was killed by the human mob that was trying to get at him, 20 years ago.

Alice also seems surprised to see Des except she calls him “Snow”

as it turns out, everyone on the island looks Exactly Like his childhood friends...

and they’re all participating in a fucked up battle royale where the losers fall under the will of someone named Indoria.

des is 2 seconds away from noping the fuck out of this

(as kids, Raz and Alice hated each other and thus by extension, Des did not like Alice much but they sorta figured that out)

(it still feels fuckin weird for him in this moment)

along this quest they run into this island’s Deskri - except it isn’t Des - bc island-Des is dead. this guy is Snow and he acts a Lot like Kagyaku and it takes every ounce of willpower in Deskri not to just fucking run for the hills immediately.

they also run into island-Sonnet (another BFF I didn’t ramble about in the last post), cue more internal feelings struggling for Des bc he hasn’t seen her since before the shutdown and he’s not even sure if she’s actually alive still???

The three of them go to confront Indoria - her closest guard is island-Rasiel.......

fighting ensues, etc, (glossing so much) Des manages to corner Indoria... only to discover that she is actually Suminku. (Sonnet’s Malice)

Suminku reveals that she actually controls everyone on the island - she’s making them relive what she knows of her past... and that she isn’t the Real Suminku... she’s a copy made by a Haven facility (Haven is... they’re Bad).

Des is left with a choice: let her live, and the cycle of violence will continue, or break a very core moral rule of his and kill her.

Des has always seen killing someone as being... unforgivable for him... bc it would put him yet another step closer to being like Kagyaku.

He kills her. He can’t stand to look at the body - all around him, the people that used to look like his childhood friends/enemies start to change... into who they really are - and regain their Real memories (while keeping most of the ones given by Suminku.)

“Snow” gives Des a key and tells everyone to get off of his island

ferryman takes everyone back n asks Des if he found what he was after so Des mentions the key and he’s like ‘hmm i think i know where that goes’

turns out it goes to a door at the foot of an angel statue

which leads down into a secret lab

which belongs to none other than Dr. Kae Broken, aka, Rasiel’s Mother.

Des inspects a bunch a stuff- its mostly notes from when Kae was developing Metas as a species w/someone else... the notes state that she was Aware that Metas have basically... 2 slots for souls to occupy that slowly close up as the Meta ages... any time before that extra slot is closed, a second soul can occupy it. they “couldn’t do” anything about it bc it would fundamentally change things and they’d already made a few Metas anyway

this pisses Des the fuck off

as kids there was a Lot of drama around keeping Raz’s mom from finding out about the Malices-  Raz was Absolutely Certain she’d disown him if she knew about it and he had some weird “favorite child” competition going on with Alice - there was a lot of grief over this

raz like ditched des 2 times over potential issues w/his mom slkdgj

so here des is, reading that not only did their creator know about this, it was basically an accepted flaw ?

more notes reveal that the reason everyone in this town was so pissed off and killin each other over stupid things was bc they were experimenting on the town by contaminating the water supply with “berserker potion”

Des is a prickly, shouty person, but he actually detests violence

the anger levels here are skyrocketing

notes mentioned another lab somewhere called Dreadneth - doesn’t ring a bell for him at the moment

the thing that sends him over the edge is finding a recipe list for a potion that can Force a Mane/Malice out of the body of a Meta. notes say it was used once successfully and could only be used  on Teen+ stage Metas.

des is literally seeing red at this point

she Knew abt the extra souls and she KNEW how to remove them !!! the whole time!! and yet so many ppl Suffered for years under the influence of Malices - this potion was not made available.

(technically it was used on Rasiel to remove Obscurite - Alice did it and Des didn’t know - he thought it was something to revive Rasiel)

Des decides right then n there that the lab has got to go so he literally destroys everything inside of it  then lights it all on fire, goes back up to the surface and locks the door sdlgkj

he was so ... pissed... and set on returning to the Sanctuary with the potion recipe that he didn’t stop to tell anyone in the town abt the berserker potion.... (its ok tho there’s  no more)

so that’s kind of where he’s at atm

went back to Sanctuary, gave Raz the recipe, and then was like ‘so i’m gonna go find your mom’s other lab you wanna come with’

so they’re on a mission to get to Dreadneth (a volcano...., on an island) to destroy that and maybe also another lab that Raz knows about. kinda sortin themselves out a bit. :’)

[wannabeelf]

I’ve been thinking about Molly, my Changeling self-insert, a bit lot lately, so I’m just going to word vomit some things I’ve figured out about her.

She is an empath, which barely compensates for the social difficulties she has due to having spent her life moving away just as she finally starts to make friends where she is. She can see a few types of non-corporeal Cryptics, but mostly she’s just sort of vaguely aware that they’re there. She has a strong affinity with animals. When she looks at someone who has an animal transformation, she can see what that transformation is, but she doesn’t really know what it means yet. It’s like, “Hmmm... I always think of an owl when I look at that guy. That’s weird. He doesn’t look like one or anything...”

Despite all this, she actually doesn’t know much of anything about paranormal society.

Her parents aren’t really Cryptic. Her dad does have some very slight precognitive abilities, but it just comes off as being unusually perceptive and intuitive--he doesn’t consciously perceive the supernatural and isn’t really aware of his abilities at all.

None of the places she’s lived prior to moving to Pine Hollow had a particularly large paranormal population, so while she has seen Some Shit™, her well practiced ability to not react to said Shit™ has allowed her to fly under the radar so far.

Since moving to Pine Hollow, it’s getting harder and harder for her to ignore all the paranormal things around her just because there’s SO MUCH more of it than she’s been used to. So whether she reacts to the wrong thing or someone finally notices that she’s got at least two ghosts following her around everywhere, she’s almost certainly going to be found out soon.

With the permission of my lovely friend @catifrey​, when Molly’s family moved to Pine Hollow, they bought the house next door to her character Shelly.

If when Molly gets noticed as a Cryptic and is sat down to have that talk, her reaction will be to burst into tears. Not tears of fear or sadness, but tears of joy and relief. Because she knows that all the things she can see and otherwise sense are real, but she’s never been able to talk about it, she’s never met anyone who would believe her if she did. So there’s always that little voice in the back of her mind going “what if it’s not real, what if you’re just crazy?” And now finally, finally she has proof that voice is wrong, finally there are people who believe her, finally she can talk about all this crazy Shit™!

Molly is a romantic, but she doesn’t really pay enough attention to relationship stuff to really develop crushes very easily/often and she’s 100% not the type to pursue a relationship without being pursued first.

For now, the only member of the main cast that she knows is Marc because she volunteers at the animal shelter with him. Assuming she meets the rest of the cast after the big reveal of Cryptic-ness (not guaranteed as she goes to public school), I have the following thoughts on what sorts of relationships could potentially develop between Molly and the LIs:

Molly would greatly enjoy Corvin. She’d love spending time with him, but I can’t really see their relationship going beyond friendship, though it may look like it has to an outsider.

It’s impossible not to like Danny. He’s such a good boy! Assuming he was interested In Molly, I could see them winding up together pretty easily.

It’s also impossible not to like Elliot as a person. Molly hates spiders though, so it would be hard for her to look at him at first. If he were interested, he would have a chance, but they would both have a little work to do to get Molly comfortable with that.

I think Ewan is the only one that Molly would specifically have anything approaching a crush on. But as I already said, she’d not going to initiate, and I doubt he would if he were even interested, so probably not going to happen.

I have absolutely no trouble seeing Molly fall ass backwards into a relationship with Marc. She wouldn’t even notice it was happening until it was well underway. One day she’d just look up and be like, “Oh shit! I guess this is a thing now. This is fine.” *takes his hand and walks off into the sunset*

Molly’s reaction to William would be, “THIS IS MY BROTHER NOW! I LOVE HIM AND WILL PROTECT HIM WITH MY LIFE!!!!!”

[theonlywayoutisforward]

I haven’t finished Yu Yu Hakusho yet, but I did just finish the Sensui(?) Arc, so enjoy these thoughts on how that went.

Let me start with a simple statement: Sensui is the living embodiment of bullshit. Spoilers through roughly the end of YYH.

The fight with Sensui took a long ass time. Like I swear we spent less time consecutive time with Goku fighting Frieza than we did in the actual fight with Sensui (This is likely not true, Frieza took a VERY long time, but Sensui felt like a long time and that’s just as bad.) We spent as much time actually fighting Sensui, as we had time between finding out Sensui exists and getting into the cave to have the Final Showdown(TM).

Long fights aren’t necessarily bad, for example parts of this fight had the best actual kung fu I’ve seen out of the series, out of any series of the era for that matter. There were also many examples of the characters learning to fight smarter and not harder, which I really like to see in Anime fights, especially late-series fights.

but let me explain to you why this is not a fight I enjoyed, in bullet points.

Sensui as a Character- Sensui is a good ass premise. Like, I would gladly watch an OVA or miniseries about Sensui as a Spirit Detective and “Pre-fall”. The so-called “Psychic Arc” had a great deal of a running theme about the darkness of humanity and good vs. evil, and a lot of really GOOD PHILOSOPHICAL SHIT that I love. Sensui as an absolute utilitarian archetype is something that I liked and understood from a character perspective, and how he showed his true colors throughout the arc, through his treatment of his allies especially, was good stuff.

However, the embodiment of this ideology and Sensui’s evil is ultimately very straightforward. “Humanity is bad, it must be destroyed, here have some demons.” And yet, once our Spirit Detectives come to blows, this ideology isn’t advanced at all. We get basically a rehash of the simple premise of “I am stronger than you, I am right, I will destroy humanity.” repeatedly for what I’ve already stressed is a very long fight. Maybe this came out better in serialization, but for a marathon it got old pretty quick. Sensui’s Ideology, while complex, was boiled down to its barest bones and repeatedly fed to the audience without advancing character or plot.

Sensui as a Powerhouse- This may be the most egregious use of what a friend of mine has called “Anime Bullshit” I have seen in some time. I loosely interpret this phrase “Anime Bullshit” as those times that new powers come to light, that essentially just exist to make the Big Bad that much more untouchable. This is the most evident in Sensui’s absolutely spontaneous creation of “Sacred Energy”. The show had barely touched on the various Brands of energy, for lack of a better word, though precedent was definitely set. (See Toguro’s quote about Demon energy being “Weaker than Spirit Energy but far more pleasurable to use.” From that time he killed Genkai). That being said, when Sensui starts his one man laser light show and Koenma starts screaming how Sacred Energy is this New and Better Thing that No One Can Do, I really have to call it what it is.

Sensui did not earn this power. Nothing we’re shown before this point even hints that Sacred Energy is a thing, that Sensui- God just no, Sensui should not be having this power. Sensui continues powering up over the course of the fight, from Sacred, to Sacred armour, to whatever the fuck blue armor was, seemingly without limitation or cause. He just kinda decided to power up so he did.

Let me emphasize, Yusuke was going toe to toe with (admittedly “weaker” Kamiya) Sensui at the beginning of the fight. Both get beat up, both repeatedly regenerate, Now-God-Tier Hiei, Kurama, and Kuabara take him on simultaneously, YUSUKE EVOLVES INTO A DAMN DEMON GOD, all before Yusuke finally gets into a position where he can STILL BE GOING TOE TO TOE WITH SENSUI.

I will willingly forgive Yusuke’s “anime bullshit” transformation for now because we still have 3/4th of a season to talk about what that is and what it means. Just put that on the back burner and let it simmer.

Also rolled into the “Anime Bullshit” trope is Koenma’s Mahuken(?) Pacifier. I will accept everything about that Pacifier, and I mean literally all of it, up until it is used and promptly annihilated by Sacred Energy Sensui. It was a funny joke for a while, and also a really serious WTF moment when you think “Aw, man, that thing is actually a THING.” But the moment it ended up being absolutely useless is the moment that I lost interest. It was ultimately just a thing to show how bad ass Sensui is.

And I apologize for this but we’re also going to do my old spiel on Character Death here. WHEN A CHARACTER DIES, IT BETTER BE TREATED AS GOD DAMN IMPORTANT. One of my favorite moments in this whole Psychics arc was when Gamemaster died. Realizing that he WASN’T immortal, that his life was VERY MUCH going to end, and that he was FUCKING TERRIFIED. THAT WAS SOME GOOD SHIT! Not because he died, but for what it meant for Kurama that he had to do it. The kid pleads for his life, in a super sincere and heartbreaking way, but to save the world old softy Kurama has to make the decision to pull his plug. It’s like that Scene in new ATK where that one girl was eaten by the titans and her last, manic words are “No daddy, please I’ll promise I’ll be better.” That one line gave me the deepest chills over a character I previously gave few shits for.

BUT the fact that Koenma ultimately brings him back using the Pacifier magic TAKES ALL OF THAT AND THROWS IT OUT THE GOD DAMN WINDOW. Not least of my questions is why the Kakai barrier making, Deus Ex Pacifier is now Koenma’s only way of bringing people back to life when he brought Genkai back to life last season? What? But no back to character death. Kurama’s choice doesn’t mean shit. His rage and frustration that we see in the Gourmet fight doesn’t mean shit. The Resurrection of Gamemaster is a terrible thing for character development.

AND FUCKING THEN! (HOW DO I EMPHASIZE THIS MORE?) SENSUI CLAIMS IT WAS ALL PART OF HIS GLORIOUS KIKAKU!* (*Kikaku means plan.) No it wasn’t you piece of trash. There’s no way you could possibly have known that any of this was going to happen. There are too many wheels you couldn’t feasibly have been aware of to make sure that decision would be made in time to save you from being Kekai shielded. Sit back down you lunatic. You’re still not the good guy and I hate you.

Sensui’s Multiple Personalities- I don’t know if I should even talk about this. But I will. On some level, the fracturing subconscious story is something I can get behind. He did it to protect his precious sense of justice. But there is just SO MUCH that is off about this little detail that I don’t like. Why seven if we only ever see three(?)? Why does only Shinobu have access to Sacred power if he’s still a steaming mess. How does it fit into protecting his innocent Psyche if ALL SEVEN OF HIS PERSONALITIES WERE IN AGREEMENT ABOUT THE DEMON INVASION PLAN? The only reason one of his splintered personalities is “a girl” is not out of any legitimate transgender statements but so that personality “Can just feel so awful and tearfully confess the sins of the boys.” and “Be in love with Hitsuki (From Hitsuki’s viewpoint.)” TLDR None of that is really a thing that needed to happen for me to feel better or worse for/about/because of Sensui.

Elder Toguro Gets to Talk More!?- So I’m straying from the topic of Sensui to talk about another piece of shit- nay a shitlord in the truest sense of the word, Elder Toguro. So unimportant the bastard never gets a name. So much bullshit that they had to ROB US OF HIS DEATH SCENE TWICE in the Dark Tournament arc, Robbing Kuabara of the privilege of winning and showing him what a piece of shit he is, and robbing Toguro of the additional badass points for beating his infinitely regenerating brother in one punch, all to do...what? Elder Toguro is rescued by Sensui at the end of Dark Tournament arc as a bit of foreshadowing I guess? Goes on to do literally diddly squat as a talking head, until he’s eaten, only to once again retroactively show how bullshit he is and become a head on a head with the power to eat people and gain their powers. THE ONLY SOLACE WE HAVE IS THAT HIS ARC FINALLY ENDS WITH HIM IN THE CLOSEST THING TO HELL AN INFINITELY LIVING THING CAN EXPERIENCE AT THE HANDS OF A REALLY ANGRY KURAMA. Arguably worse than real Toguro’s self-imposed 10,000 years in Limbo.

(Serious side note: What is Elder Toguro’s role in the story period? Young Toguro and Genkai have this whole thing, and Young Toguro has this whole backstory about why he became a demon, and Elder just...is a demon because he was there? I don’t fuckin’ know.)

And Finally? Why are you So Sad Sensui’s Dead?- It’s the end of the fight, EVERYONE has spent the last three episodes trying to kill this guy for vengeance. Yusuke dies at his hand and comes back to fight him FOR VENGEANCE. And at the end of the fight we get, “Oh shit, Kurama, you gotta heal him, I didn’t mean to hit him quite that hard.” Nothing says it better than Kurama saying “I can’t heal him, I used all of my energy kicking his ass.” and Koenma saying “Oh wait, I can’t resurrect him because he killed my Resurrecting Pacifier when I used it to prevent him from destroying the world.”

In All seriousness, there is a thing in fiction in general that really gets on my nerves about killing the bad guy. The good guy never gets the chance to kill the bad guy because it makes them “the same”. We see this in Lord of the Rings when Gollum launches himself into the fire and Saruman jumps off his Tower. We see this in FullMetal Alchemist when Roy isn’t allowed to kill Envy. We see this theme in so many things, and sometimes I just can’t justify it. Especially here in Yu Yu Hakusho.

Sensui and his band of (mostly) serial killers are ready to kill anyone and destroy the entire world because they’re evil and humanity is evil. They demonstrate this AT LENGTH. Yet when Yusuke is confronted by the Doctor early in the arc, the plot makes him hesitate to use his full power because MORALS. There are hundreds of lives on the line, several of them absolutely precious to Yusuke, but he’s not allowed to cross that final line on one of the most low-down villains he’d crossed to date. There are times to play the morality card. That isn’t one of them.

Yusuke is a character I love, partially because of his ability to quip at ANY TIME, but also because he can seriously say. “For everyone of my friends you hurt, I’m taking a limb,” And you know that he’s not just talking. He’s serious. He would ACTUALLY CUT A MAN’S LIMBS OFF FOR HIS FRIENDS. Yet when it comes down to that final moment, he has to beg to have his enemy healed so he looks like he’s still moral and good.

Kuabara’s Power-up- Kuabara’s power-up in this arc was just kinda...useless? “My new sword can cut through dimensions Urameshi. Hah Hah.” Almost like it was created solely for this arc, solely for the bad guys to need it to cut the multi-dimensional Kekai strings. (Which Kuabara does. Ultimately, for no extraordinarily good reason. But I won’t pick on that too much.) Kuabara could have been a much more useful character, seen at least his usual level of treatment, if he’d been allowed to show even a little Spiritual improvement because of the Dark Tournament like everyone else. Hiei ate a god damn dragon, Kurama learned how to fox out, and Kuabara got a neat new sword. And yet they still took away Kuabara’s modest power up in the tournament for...plot?...reasons? I don’t know. I like Kuabara, he’s always going to be fourth banana behind MC Yusuke and Actual Gods Kurama and Hiei, but his mistreatment still upsets me.

Also, the normal anime problem of strong characters standing around not doing much. I’m looking at you Genkai. You could’ve at least punched some bugs or something I don’t know.

End Criticisms.

Please don’t take this to mean that I don’t like YYH or even that I didn’t like this arc as a whole. I do so far and I did. However, it’s because I like it that the things I’ve listed irked me so much I felt like I had to talk about it. Expect a full review after I finish the series that will probably be much better toned, but I’m all out of things to say for now. It’s 4 a.m.

[mkarchin713]

Jason looks like his Robin self in ghost form.

Also he now remembers being in the ghost zone.

DC x DP Prompt *9*

Something that Jason realized was that he got the pit rage more and more under control the longer he stayed in Gotham.

Even so it took quite a while till he started to be on better terms with his family, it got easier every day.

At some point he could ignore the pit like any other intrusive thought.

He didn't tell B or his siblings, he just let them believe that he got control. Because otherwise Bruce would just start looking into it and Jason just wanted this good thing to last.

It had been over a week without any 'pit thoughts' - as he labeled them now -, the longest ever and he just felt good, almost like him self again!

Then the week turned into a month and if Jason could, he would make a somersault.

The pit was gone! It just had to be!

He was almost vibrating when he stepped into the cave. He would tell everyone that he was free! They never needed to be afraid of him again!

Jason had asked them all to meet in the cave before patrol, so that he could tell them the good news. And now everyone was here.

He took his helmet of and grinned. But before he could announce the good news, he felt himself sinking into the ground, like it was quicksand.

Panic was coursing through him and that seemed to make everything worse. A white light washed over him and after a tiny moment of silence his family started to panic again.