#autistic javier escuella

[whichstoodonrockyshores]

prompt 1, Javier needs comforting from bill during Beaver Hollow??👀👀

Not Alone, Not at All

Prompt 1: “Can you hold me? Please.”

From These Prompts.

Rating: Teen

Summary: Bill’s best friend (and crush), Javier, is missing. After an hour of searching all of Beaver Hollow, Bill searches somewhere he never thought he’d be forced to go again: the caves behind camp.

Fic Under the Cut

Bill had never been more confused in all his life. Everything was way too much for him to handle, with everything piling and building as time passed in Beaver Hollow. The way Dutch and Arthur glared at each other, the disloyalty, Arthur’s illness, and people spending more and more time outside of camp (if they ever returned at all), Bill could tell the family he once held so dear was falling apart before his eyes. The way Dutch was acting wasn’t normal, even Bill could tell that. Arthur, John, all of them? His brothers? They were more suspicious than even Micah, these days.

Well. Except for Javier. Javier was different, he always was. He was the one bright spot in the misty autumn air of Beaver Hollow, the one person who still made sense to Bill. And after almost a month of living at Beaver Hollow, Javier was proving to be Bill’s only real ally in the face of constant judgment, insults, and disloyalty. The man was loyal as ever, and Bill knew he was right. Dutch would lead them out of this situation, with or without Arthur and the rest of them. Dutch wouldn’t give up on them after all these years.

Bill looked around the camp, searching for the man he thought so much of, but he was nowhere to be found. Bill searched every ledge, behind every wagon, but Javier was still nowhere to be found. And that made Bill more nervous than he cared to admit- what if Javier had been lying to him? What if he left Beaver Hollow, left Dutch, left him all alone in the face of the worst crisis the gang has ever experienced?

Bill hoped that wasn’t the case, God he hoped so. Javier was amazing, and so far above him, Bill was shocked they could even hold a conversation without Javier turning up his nose and scoffing at a stupid hick like Bill Williamson. The stupidly handsome man deserved to be in a better situation, to lead a better life than the one he had been leading. That life, the life Javier deserved, Bill couldn’t provide. He was well aware of that fact, despite his many attempts to win the man’s affection.

After an hour of searching the entire camp up and down, Bill was beginning to get genuinely concerned. He sighed, returning to his bedroll near Dutch’s tent when he saw the one place he never searched: the cave the Murfree’s once inhabited. Bill had only been in there once, to dispose of what little was left of Molly’s body after he reduced her corpse into a simple pile of ash, and it was not a pleasant place. It stunk of blood and death due to the previous inhabitants, and it made Bill feel almost claustrophobic, knowing he was closed into such a confined area with only one known exit.

Bill hated the idea of even being in the caves- but Bill knew from the moment he entered the chasm that Javier was hiding in the twists and turns of the caves behind camp. Bill could hear him, the echoes making his small noises and heavy breathing loud and clear.

“…Javier?” Bill called down the cave, and Bill could hear the noises stop and the sound of the rocks under someone’s body shuffling around, “Javier, it’s me, Bill,” he repeated, pushing further into the cave, seeing more and more of the depraved things left by the Murfree Brood the further he retreats into the chasm.

But it doesn’t take long for Bill to spot Javier, quietly sitting against a large rock, smoking a cigarette with one hand and running his fingers over the engraved handle of his knife with his other, repeating the action over and over again. The heels of his boots dig into the loose rocks in front of him, moving his feet back and forth in a satisfying manner. Bill immediately felt like he was intruding on his friend, feeling a strange need to avert his eyes to not interrupt. (Plus, seeing Javier so relaxed was… kind of cute.)

“Uh…hey, Javier,” Bill sighed, and Javier’s actions came to an abrupt halt. He took his hand off of his knife, and his feet crossed over each other. The only action he continued was smoking. Bill almost wanted to ask Javier about his behavior, but Bill knows he has no room to judge Javier (especially when he rocks back and forth, chewing on his fingernails and pulling his hair out when he’s stressed out), so he stayed silent.

“Hey, Bill,” Javier said, not acknowledging his actions when he saw that Bill didn’t mention it, “Didn’t think I’d see you down here.”

“I was lookin’ for you all over!” Bill exclaimed, a bit frustrated with his friend (and crush) for his sudden disappearance when he knew how Bill felt about being by himself, “I…I thought you were leavin’ me,” he admitted, his cheeks flushed red as he admitted that embarrassing fact. Fuck, that sounded pathetic-

“You know I wouldn’t do that,” Javier said, pulling Bill back to reality, “I’m in this ‘til the end. Just… needed some time to myself,” Javier explained, looking at Bill as he continued with his rant, “It’s so stressful up there. I don’t know how Dutch can accomplish anything with an atmosphere like that, with all the disloyalty and secrets…” he paused, taking another drag of his cigarette, “We’re supposed to be a family. Why is everyone acting like this?”

“I dunno, Javier. I can’t tell ya why them bastards are actin’ like… well, bastards!” Bill exclaimed, shaking his head, “But… if ya wanna be left alone, I’ll leave ya be. You just had me worried, there.”

Javier seemed to think about it for a moment, considering whether he should let Bill stay or send him back up to camp.

“…Nah. Stay here,” Javier said, something resembling a smile spreading across his face as he looked at Bill, sighing deeply as if he was disappointed to admit his next statement, “You’re the best company I got.”

“…I am?” Bill asked, taking Javier’s box of cigarettes and lighting one of his own, his hands falling to his sides to stroke small, satisfying lines into the gravel, “That’s real sad, Javi, I’m ‘bout the worst company here,” Bill admitted, a low chuckle escaping him.

Javier laughed, too, sighing as his hand returned to the handle of his knife, suddenly much more comfortable around his friend as the mood began to lighten.

“Shut up, cabrón. You’re better company than… say, Micah. Or Strauss, or even… Dutch, right now, with how he’s acting,” Javier sighed, clearly sad to admit the man who saved his life multiple times wasn’t himself at the moment, “You’re too hard on yourself, Williamson. You’re the only loyal one left. It feels that way, at least, and that…that counts for something.”

Bill could feel the heat rising to his face again. God, did that praise feel good after so many days, weeks, even, of being called a fool for following Dutch through these hard times. Bill had so many things he wanted to say, so many ways he wanted to confess his true feelings and express how he felt about the man before him… but all he could say was, “That feels… real nice. If you need anythin’, anythin’ at all… just let me know, and I’ll get it done.”

Javier smiled, clearly appreciating that sentiment…

“Maybe,” Javier began, a nervous look in his eyes as he continued, “Maybe you could hold me? Please.”

Bill almost felt his heart burst at the very idea of having Javier in his arms. The redness in his face just spread, reaching the tips of his ears. Of course Bill wanted to hold Javier, of course he did, but every time he opened his mouth, all that came out was a sputtering sound of sheer surprise. Javier looked confused, to put it simply, turning his head to look at the ground and rubbing on the rough fabric of his poncho.

“Did that come out wrong? You don’t have to-“ Javier said sadly, clearly a bit disappointed before he was suddenly interrupted,

“No! No, I want to, sorry. Sorry,” Bill repeated, wrapping his arms around Javier and pulling him closer, “Just, you surprised me. Folks don’t usually wanna be in my arms, ya know?”

Javier nodded, “Yeah. I get that,” he said, resting his chin on Bill’s shoulder as his hands wrapped around the larger man’s torso, rubbing up and down the material of his brown leather coat, “You just looked…Comfortable,” Javier stated, hoping that came out right, “Thanks for,” everything, Javier thinks, but that sounds way too sappy and strange, “Finding me.”

“‘Course,” Bill said, his smile growing even wider as Javier shuffled even closer to him. Holding his crush in one arm, while the other draws circles into the gravel, the only way this could be better is if Cain joined this cuddle pile. Bill’s arm snaked around Javier, resting on his lower back and staying there (below Javier’s rough, scratchy serape that smelled of mothballs, Bill couldn’t stand that texture).

“So… you think we’ll be okay, Javier?” Bill asked, after minutes of staying in the same position.

“Sure. We’ll be fine, we always have been. Dutch will do us right.”

And Bill was inclined to believe him.

[2demondogs]

Hello, I'm the anon who asked if you write autism and now that i know you do, I'd love it if you could do an gender neutral autistic reader/Javier?

I love music, and I don't think I could live without it. it really helps prevent meltdowns and calms me down when things get too overwhelming. I often hear and love listening to Javier play his music in camp. it's so relaxing and serene sometimes. My favorite is Ángel De Amor :)

I don't really have a specific way for this request to go besides including Javier's music into it. So I'd say you have complete creative freedom! Thank you so much for answering my question, by the way. I love your writing :))

Of course! I am a simple man tbh Javier picks up the guitar in game and I sit Arthur's ass the fuck down. Also thank you <3

I kind of went from the comfort aspect. Sorry this took a second (I also have another like. week old request too) fatigue is kicking my ass this week.

Words: 1.9k Tags: fluff, Javier is madly in love with u, reader has sensory issues, established relationship

You wish you could know true silence.

Javier had looked at you perplexed when you asked if the wind ever bothered him, insisting you meant the sound and not that it messed with hair or clothes or bullets. Lucky him, only hear it during storms.

He had taken your mind off of the racing of your heart by clapping his hands over your ears and grinning. "Better?" He'd asked, and you'd felt his voice reverberating enough to offset the overwhelming roar of blood through his hot palms.

What a fool, you thought and still think, but laying on your bedroll has left you with no sleep and a deep desire for his hands on your face, or how he lays on you in the privacy of trips away from camp. The ground is hard, too hard; you feel cold in a way that's deeper than temperature, as if loneliness could be icelike and sting all over, especially through your empty arms; and it's so quiet that your ears are ringing, searching for noise and focusing only on your own heart thudding — the sound gives you anxiety, for some unknowable reason — and the snores of the camp.

Oh, the snores.

You start to get angry, but you blame it on those, usually. Although Javier snores, and that's never bothered you. Because it's you, you've told him for romance's sake but, really, it's hard to know what's irritating you when everything feels raw and cold and burning all at once.

Before your patience can snap, the pressure of it already building in your throat, you sit up and let your eyes re-adjust to the darkness of the night. You had hardly realized how the darkness behind your lids was growing on your bad side, too.

The campfire is still going nearby, and you see Javier sitting with his back against one of the logs, guitar laid over his lap and a knife in hand. He's doing something to it. Arthur's tent flaps are drawn and the light of a lantern fights against the fire for shadows, the dark outline of a large hand passing over the light now and then; as you walk past, you think maybe Hosea is sitting beside the tent post that covers him, Bill, and Lenny.

Besides the four of you, it's eerily dead. Not an unusual occurrence, really, because it seems these three's insomnias are all interlinked and your own tends to join in on their frequency, too— but eerie all the same.

The choice is clear enough of who to join. Only Javier is surrounded by empty space, though you've learned that doesn't necessarily mean he'll be as friendly with others as he is with you. Romantic privileges, or something like that. You believe he's just sour inside and trying to stuff you into the open sore like cotton.

With only the company of your feet shuffling over dirt, Javier's voice seems gunshot loud.

"What're you up for?" He asks, disinterested before he looks up from his guitar's neck. One string is missing out of six, a new gutstring pinched in his fingers as he twists it where travel had unraveled it in storage. Frayed ends stick from the tuning pegs, tied but not trimmed. His eyes soften when he sees it's you, but he leaves the greeting as it is.

"Can't sleep," you say, and take a seat at a polite distance on the same log.

Javier never complains of your proximity and you feel the urge for it now, that prickly sensation of emptiness along your arms and torso, but something stops you from taking indulgence into your own hands. You're happy that he scoots over some, shrugging and waving the small knife in his hand as he speaks. Glinting in the fire, the blade one of the newer silver ones he picked up during a disastorous Van Horn trip.

"I would'a never guessed," he says. Even though his hair is untied — it seems that he couldn't sleep either, because it is tangled in the back — you know he's smiling.

Past his head, as he leans away, you watch him cut the excess from the last string and tie a firm knot around the tuning peg. The easy way he works his skills always quiets your nerves, the same way it does to watch Javier handle his guitar in general.

When you feel unable to handle anything, it's comforting to know there's someone who knows how to handle something. Someone you've got a claim to, whose skills you take a secondary pride in — look at my man, doesn't he know his way around...? — but that's entirely affection speaking.

"What's on your mind, cielo?" He asks, leans his head back on the log beside your hip and looks up at you.

The shadows draw strangely over his features at this angle. His features have filled out nicely since Dutch dragged him in. Nevermind that they were fuller, still, before Blackwater, or that his undereyes look darker than they have in months. He's handsome, and his eyes flutter shut when you draw your nails gently over the hair sprouting from his temple.

Before, he's laughed when you've spoken honestly, but it has never been at your expense. Javier has some humor about him when you are alone — which is the only place you will confide in him, whether it's fear of your dignity or fear for the life of anyone who side-eyes Javier's sweetheart — and at times, you think maybe he's laughing the way men laugh when they see the sun for the first time in years. There is no judgement behind the way he smiles, showing his gums because the curl of his upper lip grows almost timid.

It is sickening, how in love Javier is.

He makes you feel like you are, for the first time in your life, entirely without flaw. You know that's impossible, that no one is, but feelings never do bow to inferior facts.

You realize you've gotten lost in your thoughts when Javier's lips brush your knuckles, having plucked your hand from his hair and taken it in his own, the fingers curled over the wall of his. He says your name. It sounds good in his rasp.

"S'rry," you say, blink once or twice to remember what he had even asked. What's on your mind? Why are you awake? "It's too quiet 'round here. It's botherin' me."

He nods. "Never sounds right when the woods are quiet," he agrees, and you realize he's misunderstood.

"No, it's very loud," you correct.

Javier squints at you, that familiar humor nudging his eyes. "What do you mean?"

You were going to divulge the depth of it, but now you find yourself focused on explaining this part to him. The entire world was beginning to piss you off, anyways, so finding comfort for one thing must be easier.

"The— well, the silence is too loud. It's buggin' me."

He raises a brow. "Silence is literally too loud?"

"Yes," you say, wondering why he's asking. It sounds odd put that way, sure, but it still makes perfect sense to you. Then he smiles faintly, those eyes soften— and it's apparent that this is another one of those things only you experience. "I could hear my blood running while I was layin' down. Hated it. D'you ever hear yours?"

"Only when it's really pumpin'," he says, and you stop trying to find something he'll relate to.

It doesn't leave you quite so empty-feeling as it has in the past that Javier doesn't have the same issues. None of it matters, because he does not care how foreign some of your complaints are: he will solve them, somehow.

No, Dutch's gramophone never makes his teeth itch, but he'll keep you company outside camp until the old man shuts it off or your mind is calm enough to stomach another opera. No, his clothes never feel abrasive, but he'll let you wear his instead, will look proud that they do not bother you as if he wove the fabric himself. The latter had been one of his first unspoken I love yous. It was his favorite vest.

And now, he's asking: "D'you wanna hear a song instead?"

Your brows knit. "Won't it wake everyone up?"

"No, cariño," Javier says, nods to the ground beside him. "You come closer 'n' I'll play quiet. Jus' for you."

You let yourself smile. "Alright," you say, swallow the warmth you feel at his offer and how relieved you are to have it spoken.

He's played his guitar for you before, many times. You've asked it for some of them, under the guise of not remembering words to his songs — he never questioned this reason, although he knows you can't speak Spanish and likely knew there was something much gentler behind it — or boredom.

Only once has it been for the same reason he plays now: to comfort you. The woods had been too quiet, and you'd been bleeding.

Javier asks for a song, and wrinkles his nose playfully when you say Ángel de Amor. "That's a sad one," he says. "Don't you want something happy?"

"They're all sad," you say. You'd be surprised if Javier knew a love song that was not about heartbreak or being eaten alive by it. "Aren't the best ones always sad?"

He huffs a laugh. "So, are they all the best?"

"Yessir."

He grins, and it malforms the usual sorrow he sings the first verse with, until he gets a handle on his face.

That his songs are all sad is true enough. There's not much joy to be sung about in the outlaw life, just as there's always that one-two, disjointed beginning to it when the guitar is picked up and played. Finding the rhythm, you suppose, or just remembering the feeling of the strings before going into a song that is as second-nature as pouring coffee or lighting a cigarette.

Simple, a three chord progression and those familiar, short lyrics— at least, they sound short, because he rolls the words off his tongue fast and smooth enough to be one, long breath. You don't realize until you are relaxing against the log, your side pressed to his, just how lonely and exhausted you have been all day.

Not lonely any longer, at least, with his warmth bleeding into your skin and the vibration of the guitar wondering across your own leg as he strums. It soothes the buzzing feeling in your veins, the one that lingers when your nerves start to tighten and bunch under the face of whatever sourness found you this evening.

Javier smells good, too, and you realize how distasteful the air had seemed without something thicker, more potent in it. He'd been wearing one of your favorite colognes today, and its afterimage is on his neck when your weary head falls onto his shoulder. Javier does not tell you to move back, although it must make strumming difficult. He adjusts so that he isn't jostling you and shortens the motion of his wrist, which he will complain tomorrow is sore with a smile.

Another habit, which makes you feel somewhat guilty, is that you will never smell him wear a scent again if you get a chance to smell it and do not tell him you like it. Although, through the guilt, there's something in you that feels very special.

After a lifetime of feeling other, here is a man who will do anything to be accepted by you.

Sickening, so very.

You turn your nose to smell the remnants of the cologne on his shirt. You think you recognize El Borrachito before he starts singing, but consciousness leaves you thereafter. In the morning, you'll wake up to find yourself slumped over his shoulder blades and Javier, over his guitar.

[vanderlesbian]

rdr2 x autistic reader headcanons

saw someone else do this but i wanted to give my headcanons too! enjoy tehe... includes arthur, john, dutch, and charles!

gn!reader + no warnings / fluff

arthur morgan

arthur is so patient and understanding with you

from the moment you met him, you never felt the need to mask around him because he never questioned your behaviors or belittled you for them

if any problems ever arised, arthur would always be quick to come to your defense

hes very careful with you; he handles you like he's holding a butterly. not because he thinks youre fragile or incapable, but because he cares for you too much and never wants to hurt you

he also knows that youre sensitive to things and will take mental notes

if he sees that you cover your ears when something loud happens, he'll be sure to be quiet around you

if you express that you don't like how a certain food feels, he'll start bringing other options along to make sure you're eating

he's not very good at being upfront with his emotions, and you can't always catch onto his hints which ends up with you being confused

but he's trying to break that habit

all in all he's a very understanding partner who prioritizes you above all

john marston

lets be real john is also autistic

youre both very understanding of each others needs and its nice to be able to completely be yourself around your partner

in a relationship he can be very touchy sometimes, but he can recognize when you dont want to be touched. if hes unsure, he'll ask

he will wait or ask for permission to do pretty much anything

"can i kiss you?" "can i hug you?" "is it alright if we hold hands?"

hes definitely awkward but he just needs the confirmation

he is veryyy blunt but to you its a good thing

it makes me feel like neither of you have to worry about if the other is beating around the bush or something because both of you say whats on your mind LOL

both of you are trying to figure out this relationship thing together

from an outside perspective, people might think the two of you are moving really slow, but for both of you its a perfect pace

dutch van der linde

dutch is your biggest fan when you start infodumping

he will listen to you speak about whatever for days on end, and you'll do the same with him as he talks about whatever philosophical tangent he has for the day

hes so infatuated with you its crazy

you will finish your infodumping tangent and he will scoop you up in his arms and go,"you're so beautiful/handsome, you know that?"

like oookaaayyy huhehehehehhehhshsh

he will SPOIL you with things related to your special interest. anything he sees that he knows you'll like, he'll snatch it up so quick to give it to you

he'll definitely boast about you to the other members

"they're so INTELLIGENT and HARD WORKING...perhaps the rest of you should take a note or two"

he lets you fidget with his fingers because you like his rings

he makes sure that your shared tent is perfectly up to your standards

the feeling of the blanket overwhelms you? suddenly hes sending arthur out to fetch a new one

he definitely pampers you a lot and sometimes it might feel suffocating at times but not bc you dislike it, you just need a moment to recharge

you'll tell him you need a moment to yourself and he'll oblige

charles smith

the two of you love parallel play omg

you two will be completely silent while he makes arrows and you partake in one of your hobbies but its so comforting to both of you

charles will always be the first to notice when you start to get overstimulated, so he'll tell the others to quiet down, give you space, or whatever else you need to calm yourself

hes kind of overprotective of you, so sometimes you'll have to reassure him that youre fine

he just cares about you more than anything

now that im thinking about it charles is also probably autistic

he's usually very quiet but with you he'll never shut up because he knows that you'll listen and show genuine interest

he will craft things for you to fidget with omfg

he'll notice that youre very antsy with your hands or legs and one day you'll come back to your tent and see a small handmade doll sitting on your bed

"did you make this for me?"

"i noticed you play with your fingers a lot"

he's genuinely the sweetest ever and he will just have heart eyes for you all the time

[sodaclown]

My taste in male characters

Yeah

[exhaustedalien]

a friend playing rdr for the first time told me that the arriving in Mexico experience was overhyped and I was like "haha yeah I guess I might feel the same way if I played rdr1 before rdr2" while actively trying to not think about arriving in Mexico in rdr1 because I didn't want to burst into tears

[talgra]

javier cleaning his revolver and pulling the trigger on an empty cylinder practically to just hear the noise repeatedly

[big-boah]

I wrote a Red Dead fic, y'all! If you liked Chances and/or Celebration Day, this will be right up your alley. ;)

I wrote a new Red Dead Redemption 2 fic! It's 13k words already!

Description:

It's the 1970's, and Dutch Van der Linde has a plan. He and his gang grew up together, causing trouble in the suburbs of Blackwater. They're talented enough rock musicians, playing in Uncle's dive bar, The Ferry, most evenings. But when Micah shows up one night and brings Dutch an offer he can't refuse, their rock and roll band is thrust into the spotlight, sponsored by the Pinkerton Music Agency.

This fic features eventual Arthur Morgan/John Marston, Micah Bell doing what Micah does best, a whole lot of beer, music, and laughs.

Arthur is undiagnosed autistic, and John has undiagnosed ADHD (it's the 70s). Let me know what you think!

[verdemoun]

I wonder how different gang members initially reacted to how much they were remembered from their outlaw days.

Arthur, Hosea and Dutch were probably considered the greatest, but Javier, Bill and Micah would have a bit of fame, right?

Poor Kieran, Molly, Sean, and Lenny were probably only mentioned in Arthur’s journal, their epic lives lost to time and reduced to footnotes.

The VDLs are sort of remembered like the Dalton Gang. That is, if you say 'van der Linde gang' in passing conversation people will know you're talking about outlaws in the old west, but very few people could actually name a single VDL. They also fall into the bracket of their tales being so legendary that a lot of people don't realize they were an actual gang, and there's a lot more fiction than fact in surviving stories.

That being said, during the Golden Age of Westerns, a lot of films were based off the tales of the VDLs. The MacSummers household are very guilty of sitting down with a few beers (and/or a bong) and watching these movies on the weekends, cackling at how wrong the characters are.

Their favorite is Red Dead, which was a 50s film that followed anti-hero John Marston hunting and gunning down the members of his former gang: Micah Bell, Javier Escuella, Bill Williamson and Dutch van der Linde, for redemption inspired by a nun named Sister Abigail, who held him in his arms and comforted him as he was dying after being mistakenly shot* by police as he killed Dutch. Horrendously inaccurate, but the action scenes are great.

Of the members of the gang remembered, it is John, Dutch, Hosea and Bill. This is thanks a later, critically acclaimed film, Williamson Territory, which sees the og VDL gang at war with the Williamson gang following the Act 2 death of Hosea at the hands of Bill. It is somehow praised for its historical accuracy for including the feature of lesser known members such as Arthur, Charles, Sadie, Seth and Norman.

Johnathan Pearson, grandson of Simon Pearson and current owner of the Pearson Delicatessen in Rhodes, is actually an avid vanderlindonian, which is what the forum community of obsessive amateur historians (autistic men in their 40s) call themselves. He is very proud to be a descendant of a confirmed member of the VDL gang and uses it to win internet points in arguments with other forum members.

Despite Johnathan Pearson being obsessed with the VDLs, he is yet to realize that any of the VDLs are actually the VDLs. When his son Sam bought home Isaac and Kai Bell for playdates, he was too impressed by Kai being a direct descendant of Amos Bell, brother of Micah Bell, to notice that Isaac's extended family are literally the VDLs.

[yj-98]

my brain is perpetually melting lately so im like not super comprehending it but i looove hearing ppl talk about what theyre into and i am just nodding along so enthusiastically when you talk about rdr2 . also take this as me asking about it as i said im nodding along

crow im sorry </3 honestly i understand 100% and i hope the brain fog lifts for you<3 but im happy its fun to hear about <3 thank you for nodding along and asking about it (in spirit) so let me lay the generic history + synopsis of both games because i have . sort of just been dropping context as i talk about two brothers and their horrible father (<3 and the good one)

anyways im about to be very autistic<3 buckle up

red dead redemption (2010) started off as a spiritual successor to a game called red dead revolver (2004) that rockstar bought after the game had been cancelled after it failed to follow thru with funding issues in 2000 (capcom. as in mega man capcom, was paying for a studio to make it, but funding dropped and and that studio closed so rockstar acquired the studio + eventually got the rights for rthe game). HOWEVER they wanted to do more w/ the concept

so john martson was born in 2010 w/ the first red dead game. youre introduced to a this former outlaw in 1911 who's family is being used for blackmail as he makes his way across a fictionalized version of the american south/west + mexico trying to track down his former friends because the US govt wants them dead. hes polite but no-nonsense and hes sarcastic sometimes and mentally unwell and also so kind. hes very funny honestly like rdr1 john my beloved. and he helps people along the way! he makes associates with all kinds of people. he deals with the people in his old gang (javier escuella and bill williamson), including his father figure dutch van der linde. hes described as his fathers greatest success and greatest downfall. hes returned to his wife and son and 'uncle' only for the US govt to raid their home, kill uncle, and it forces john to tell his wife and son to run while he makes a last stand, knowing that theyd stop at killing him. because ultimately these games are about redemption. and it almost succeeds, but his son grows up to avenge him

and its a fun game! its a wonderful story its really well done with interesting twists and turns and a HEARTBREAKING ending with this kid just. continuing that cycle. killing a government man puts a target on his head too. and rockstar couldve gone with a sort of . 1910s-1920s set sequel where you explore what the kids fate is. instead in 2018 we're given a prequel in the form of red dead redemption 2.

its 1899 and its the end of the golden age and the age of the "west" is honestly decades gone. dutch is clinging to an old life because he hates the US government, doesnt trust the law, etc. hes got a group of misfits including two men hes raised since they were preteens (arthur morgan + john marston) alongside his oldest friend (platonic life partner? sorry. theyre toxic old men* in love) hosea matthews.

(*old for 1899)

so arthur morgan is born in 2018. hes not mentioned once in rdr1 because he didnt exist! and rockstar gives themself the very hard job of making us LIKE a protagonist new to the story as a whole. and it works basically immediately. id argue its almost impossible to hate arthur when he feels so human. ive rarely like. played a game that beat for beat feels very much like reading a novel and i am. so honest when i say he feels human. they all do. but you hear his thoughts, you read his journal entries, you hear his comments to himself and his way of interacting with the world around you, let alone with other people. hes so endearing, if not a bit gruff and rough around the edges, and then he warms. especially around hosea, or in quiet moments with john or his friendship that blooms w/ a man named charles (i will not get into this.) or his kindness with sadie adler, a widow you meet in the prologue (shes sooo).

and then arthur starts dying. hes dying from the end of chapter 2. theres 6 chapters total + two epilogues w/ john. chapter 1 is essentially the prologue. youre given ONE whole chapter with arthur before It Happens. and hes declining. and you get hints. he starts coughing.

rdr2 is a story of arthur and the events that lead to rdr1 with a splintered family. you know the events of rdr1 will happen as absolutes: bill dies. javier dies. dutch dies. john and abigail (his wife) will die. jack, their son, who in rdr2 is maybe all of 5 years old, will one day kill a man. but that seems so distant

its a death march, its an avalanche, its a butterfly effect. its a car crash its a trainwreck. and youre a rubbernecker. you cant look away, you have to play his part in the play. the events that ultimately are the catalyst happen a month prior to the games opening: dutch picked up a man named micah bell, and micah is not a nice man. and he knows exactly how to play dutch like a fiddle. and dutch's ego is too big to know hes being played. they rob a ferry boat. it goes badly. people die. the pinkertons are after them all. they run into the mountains and almost die. dutch's ego is bruised and he Needs to correct it. they run into his old nemesis and they steal that guys plans to rob a train. you could say that this was the true catalyst for the events for the rest of the game but ultimately it doesnt matter. micah has his grip on dutch, and dutch just robbed one of thee wealthiest men in america, who has an ego that matches

meanwhile arthur is an attack dog, and he attacks the wrong target on orders he doesnt like. a weak man dying of tuberculosis. it infects arthur, unwittingly. arthur can quit these jobs. its doesnt matter. he will die in 6 months

rdr2 is a story of trying desperately to pump the breaks as more and more people die. its about hope and trying to save as many people as you can. its about people who fall through the cracks and who the 1% hate coming together and the reality of being used in a cult of personality. its about one man falling apart and taking 20+ people who looked to him like a shepherd, down with him. its about desperately clinging to the past as the future rockets forward. its about loyalty its about betrayal its about dying.

arthur is shown chapter after chapter as he gets weaker that his father is willing to let family die. that when dutch loses hosea in ANOTHER botched robbery he is not the same man. that he's willing to let both his sons die. and when arthur realizes his time left is short, hes desperate to make things right

arthur dies letting john escape. dutch and micah look down at him as hes dying and walk away. arthur is buried facing west. for the sun. john inherits his hat and journal. john tries to build that fateful home with abigail and jack. you spend the epilogue with him as he tries to make wrong puzzle pieces fit and shave down the parts of him that were his fathers son so that they can try to live normally. he succeeds. the epilogue lets you face micah and dutch as john and arthurs friends who survived (charles + sadie). you kill micah. he deserves it. dutch lets john live.

time does not stop. rdr1 looms ahead. you ignore this and play ranch simulator as john draws in arthurs journal and writes and scratches out words and draws hearts around his wifes name. you can find arthurs grave and sit with him.

i spent 1 month putting off arthurs death. i mourned him in real time when he died. games to CHANGE the brain chemistry

[cupofcowboys]

low effort meme just to show my poor friends I’m self aware

[reddeadrevival]

Autistic!Reader Headcanons

Now, the spectrum is HUGE so some of these things don't apply to everyone, I'm using my own quirks in this case. (I have possible aspergers - haven't been tested yet.) Tried to do one for everyone but there were a few I didn't have anything for.

When dealing with sensory overload not everyone in camp will understand it and a few will be concerned when you simply shut down. Plugging your ears with your eyes shut tight.

They'll give you your space and wait until you're okay again before asking you anything.

Arthur will be at 100% Big Brother mode, he'll talk to you after to understand what happened to make sure it doesn't happen again.

From then on everyone will ask if they can touch you before doing so.

Dutch would be 110% dad mode when it does happen again, letting you use his tent to 'get away' from it all.

Asking if playing music would help block everything else out and give you something to focus on.

Or if you wanted to read one of his books or if you wanted him to read to you.

Tilly, Molly and Mary-Beth are always there if you need a hug/human contact.

Karen and Sadie are always there to listen to you.

They think you're adorable when you talk excitedly about something you have interest in.

Jack'll see you rubbing a leaf or something similar and ask why you're doing it.

When you explain it helps to calm you and you like it he will bring you any and all smooth rocks he can find for you to stim with.

Be prepared to have over 20 rocks to stim with.

Seeing this, Kieran will be on the lookout as well for things you might like.

Maybe a spare piece of leather or a broken spur for you to fidget with.

He'll find a ribbon and will be a blushing shy mess about giving it to you.

Charles would find a nice feather for you and would meditate with you to help you through any episodes

He would never admit it but Bill finds it absolutely adorable when you wave your hands a bit, excitedly, when something makes you super happy.

Who will admit it however (to your face, multiple times with their own huge grins) is Lenny, Sean, Abigail and Miss Grimshaw.

Javier will play his guitar to distract you and let you stroke the strings if that's something you do for stimming.

He'll start to teach you Spanish to focus on when everything else seems too much.

Master List

[whichstoodonrockyshores]

He’s thinking, don’t mind him

[viktorsaintclaire]

Javier:

Me: you r autistic

[whichstoodonrockyshores]

Javier and Bill ?

Because there was no specified number, I just answered a variety of questions with these two. Here’s the other questions I answered related to Javier and Bill’s friendship!

3. A random headcanon I have of them.

Modern AU headcanon time!

Bill’s still the same old dumbass we know, but with an adding special interest in racing! All kinds of racing interest him, especially NASCAR and local drag racing. Speaking of local racing, After returning from his time in the military, Bill had a very hard time returning to civilian life and was incredibly depressed for years afterwards. The only thing Javier could convince him to do was see the nearby races, which eventually pulled Bill out of his shell again.

8. Who is the “crazier” one, in your opinion?

They’re both crazy. Absolutely batshit, especially after Beaver Hollow and the whole situation with Dutch. I’d personally consider them equal in this regard.

11. Which one of the friends can I relate to more?

Bill. He’s lonely, awkward, and struggles to relate to others, similar to myself. Obviously I don’t approve of some of the worse things he does and says in the series, but I can understand how he became the person he did. His story is relatable to me, and a big reason why I enjoy his character.

12. A word (sentence) to describe their friendship.

Abandonment issues, but featuring your best friend who’s too loyal to ever leave your dumbass for long.

13. What I think would have happened if they never met

This is an interesting question, because it implies neither of them join the Van der Linde Gang. In this situation…

Bill: I think he would only last on the streets for another year or so if Dutch didn’t find him. Not because he couldn’t survive, theoretically, (robbing people gave him enough money to scoot by) but more because his mental health would sink so low he’d succumb to his alcoholism. That, or a robbery would go tragically awry.

Javier: I doubt he’d make it through the year of 1895. Javier says himself that he was starving, and if that didn’t kill him, the elements likely would.

14. Can I picture them being more than only friends?

No. Not only because I headcanon Javier as a aroace, but I doubt they’d be a functional couple romantically. They already fight constantly, and adding the drama of romance wouldn’t be good for them. Plus, Bill is too awkward to do anything about his crushes, and while Javier is more forward, he’s too loyal to his friends to do anything about those theoretical feelings. It would never even get off the ground, and I dislike the ship, anyway.