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osaemu · 1 year

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ミ★ can't go back, i'm haunted 🜚

in honor of today's distressing bsd chapter, i wrote a continuation of it for closure. haven't read the chapter yet? read it here

pairing: dazai x chuuya

summary: dazai had always been a constant in chuuya's life, but that was all about to change.

word count: ~0.9k

warnings: major bsd spoilers. blood. why do all my fics have blood in them? lots of angst. death. mentions of murder. mentions of suicide. not explicitly romantic but can be interpreted that way.

a/n: today's chapter killed me inside. killed. me. so obviously i had to write an angst fic to make my life even more miserable!!! also yeah there's some lines from the song haunted mixed in here 💞

being one of fyodor's vampire puppets was like being in a waking dream. chuuya was aware of his actions, but numb to any emotional sense. and yet, his lack of control didn't mean lack of courtesy.

fyodor saw what was happening a second too late – one second chuuya was just reaching out to close dazai's glazed eyelids, the next a soft blue light eminated from where his fingertips met dazai's bloodstained skin.

and a couple moments later, chuuya's mind clears. his senses return and he can clearly hear fyodor cursing over the intercom, but his focus is entirely on the scene in front of him – and it's straight out of his nightmares.

his cunning ex-partner, lying in a pool of his own blood. his eyes were closed, and as far as chuuya can tell, he wasn't breathing.

"fuck. fuck. dazai, can you hear me?" no response. "answer me, goddammit."

chuuya reached out and gently shakes dazai's shoulder, one of the few places he doesn't appear to be harmed in. "oi, dazai. answer me. fuck, wake up."

still, no response. but a couple seconds later, dazai coughs softly and hazily opens his eyes.

"ah, if it isn't my loyal dog..." dazai tries to smile, but it comes out as more of a grimace. as he speaks, a thin trail of blood drips down his beat-up face from the corner of his mouth.

chuuya tries his best to look angry, but his concern overwhelms his growing urge to punch dazai's bloodied face. "damn it, dazai, what the fuck happened?"

"heh..."

"don't heh me, dazai. what-"

and it all comes back. every memory from chuuya's time under fyodor's influence. how dazai had tried to drown him. how chuuya had shot him.

and why dazai was dying.

chuuya wanted to deny the bloodbath in front of his eyes – he wanted to tell dazai that he'd be stuck with him for a long time yet, but he wasn't stupid. neither of them were.

both of them had seen enough bloodshed to know what a fatal wound looked like.

dazai must have seen the mix of emotions on chuuya's face, because he tried to smile again and reached out shakily. "don't... beat yourself up... over this."

chuuya exhaled a bitter laugh and shook his head. this would be all he thought about for the rest of his life – if he had been more careful, if he had been stronger, could he have stopped this hellscape from happening? was there was anything at all he could have done?

the distraught ginger's train of thought drove off the rails when he felt dazai's calloused hand rest on his shoulder. "i've waited so this... for so long..."

"does it hurt?" the words seem to escape from chuuya's mouth, and the unusually childish question makes dazai's eyes shine – with tears or with amusement, it's impossible to tell.

"s'kind of numb now," dazai murmurs, closing his eyes again. "if i..." his words are cut off when coughs, blood splattering on the floor next to him.

"if i couldn't die next to a beautiful woman, i... i suppose i'm fine with dying by your side instead, my dog..."

"dazai, shut the fuck up and open your damn eyes. stay with me."

like always, dazai ignores chuuya's request and keeps talking. always so stubborn, even on death's door...

"chuuya, i... i lied."

that gets chuuya's attention. resisting the urge to tell dazai to save his breath, gray eyes meet brown and wait for him to elaborate.

"what i said... when you were drowning-" dazai tries to move his blood-slicked hair out of his eyes but fails, so chuuya leans in and does it instead.

"i wasn't kidding." dazai's eyes are fluttering shut again, and it's honestly a miracle he's stayed conscious this long. "i... i do believe there were some moments where... we truly did connect."

flashes of happier times flicker through both partners's minds. when dazai used to steal chuuya's hat, when chuuya would get angry after losing a video game, and all the times when each knew the other would have their back – always.

dazai's grip on chuuya's shoulder starts to weaken. their eyes meet for the last time, and everything they never said passes between the two in a heartbeat. finally at peace, dazai smiles up at chuuya and trails a bloody hand down his anguished face, eyes drinking in every last detail.

dazai's next breath is his last.

the lights flicker overhead, as if they too are mourning his loss. chuuya barely feels dazai's hand slip from his face and thud softly on the floor. his focus is entirely on dazai's now-peaceful features, free of the shackles he called life.

death had always fascinated dazai. from the very moment chuuya met him, he had taken every opportunity to try and commit suicide.

but this wasn't suicide. it was murder. and chuuya was the murderer.

"you're not gone, no, you can't be gone," the ginger breathes, gray eyes trailing over dazai's limp body. "c'mon, don't leave me like this, bastard. wake the fuck up, please, wake up..."

but a dead body can't be revived, not even by the most twisted of abilities. dazai was gone.

seconds, minutes, maybe even hours pass in the dimly-lit hallway. it's all the same to chuuya – for what is time without his ridiculous partner to share it with?

too many regrets, too little time. but life in the mafia has always been unforgiving, and if there's one thing chuuya's learned over the years, it's that there's a time and place for mourning.

so chuuya takes off his hat and places it gently on dazai's head, caressing it for a couple seconds before stepping away. he'd come back for the two of them later, but for now, he had a russian to kill.

a/n: even after writing all that i'm convinced that dazai's still alive. HE HAS TO BE. asagiri can't kill off sigma and dazai in the same chapter 😭

also requests are open and i really want to write bsd fluff headcanons and/or drabbles so drop any ideas u have in my ask box! love u lots 💞

anyways thanks sm for reading, and as always reblogs are very appreciated!

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the-bar-sinister · 2 months

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Unbound by Blood, Stitched by Thread (7948 words) by VickytheSnake, Dave Strider Additional Tags: Loyalty, Found Family, Twisted and Fluffy Feelings, Angst, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, POV Violet (One Piece), Villains, Twisted, Fucked Up, Emotional Baggage, Running Away, Rescuing Doflamingo, it'll be a few chapters before Doffy shows up on screen, Getting Back Together Summary: Family versus blood. A common theme in the Donquixote pirates.

catch up here

The family had had a few wounded that couldn't be moved at speed, but with Violet's help they'd evaded every possible threat of detection on their way. Now, almost a day later, they were on the open water far past Dressrosa's borders and making their way to intercept the naval ship carrying Doflamingo before it reached Impel Down.

Diamante stood on the deck against the rail as the moon rose, the cherry of his cigarette burning brighter than the last embers of the evening dusk. What a hell of a time it was for the family. The biggest upset in over a decade. Things hadn't been in chaos even close to this since 'Corazon's betrayal, years before they'd even come to Dressrosa.

It would have been easy to blame Violet. He couldn't deny that he was angry with her– who the hell wouldn't be? But more than that, he was relieved. No one wanted to accept a betrayal, no one could forgive a knife in the back without at least being hurt by it. But Violet was there. Violet had come back– despite being on the winning side.

That had to count for something, right?

His train of thought was broken as he saw Vergo come up on deck.

Poor Vergo. He hadn't even been at the revolutionary fiasco and he was still busted up just the same, if not more, than the rest of them. Still healing from the beating he'd taken at Punk Hazard where this whole calamity had started.

Honestly, when he remembered that, it was even harder to hold a grudge against Violet. It wasn't as if she had started it. There was no telling if her skills would have made a difference, even if she'd remained loyal. If these guys had taken Vergo apart– fucking literally– they were probably bound for destruction no matter what.

He gave Vergo a wave, lit cigarette in hand.

"Hey man, wanna bum one?"

Vergo turned his head, his dark sunglasses obscuring his eyes as his expression stayed the same. His jaw was set and his shoulders square as he’d leaned there to stare at the open sea where somewhere Doflamingo was waiting for them to reach him.

Now that his attention was on Diamante, he allowed himself the trace of a smile, however…even if he had a cigarette stuck just over his ear against the close cut fade of his hair.

“Absolutely, Di. Out here a guy could kill for a smoke.”

Di's gaze flicked to the cigarette behind his long time partner in crime's ear and he chuckled, pulling out his lighter. The man would forget his own nose.

"C'mere, man." He crooked a long finger to beckon him closer, grinning widely.

Vergo stepped closer to him, bending forward with a raise of his eyebrow over his glasses. “Yeah?”

Di flourished his hand, and pulled the cigarette out from behind Vergo's ear, putting it in his mouth instead. He flicked his lighter to light it.

"Tada."

Vergo whistled, pointing a finger at him.

“Where the hell’d you get that, Di? Trying to pull a fast one on me?” Despite it, he grinned widely. “Thanks.”

"Yeah, no problem, pal." Diamante chuckled roughly and took a long puff of his own cigarette. "How you holding up?"

Vergo put his cigarette between his lips. “Been better. Feel goddamned useless for letting things go to shit so bad.”

"Useless?" Di demanded. He thumped Vergo in the shoulder. "You saved our goddamned asses out here, Vergo. Without you coming in like an avenger we all would have been shipped straight to Impel Down long before Vi could show up feeling guilty."

Vergo laughed sharply thumping him back.

“She sure took her sweet time, didn’t she?” He glanced back at the door to the lower deck, his expression unreadable behind his glasses. “I just feel like if I’d stopped Law and the Straw Hats back on Punk Hazard, none of this woulda happened. Not the war, not Vi betraying the family, not any of it.”

"Sure, but you can't beat yourself up about it," Diamante said gruffly, grabbing Vergo's shoulder. "Doffy couldn't stop the Straw Hats. The whole fucking family couldn't. You can say 'if only I could have done it by myself' but that's uh… man it's a tall fucking order is what I'm saying. Kinda nuts."

“When have I ever been the picture of sanity, Di?” Vergo rocked under his hands, clearly not putting up any resistance to the manhandling for the moment. He shrugged. “You aren’t wrong. I mean… I just wish I took Law’s threats more seriously before he took me out. I wanted to believe if he had to face me down he might have a change of heart.”

"I'm sure that's what Doffy was hoping too." Diamante shook his head. "But you weren't there when we picked the kid up. He's been crazy from the start. Unshakable when he gets an idea into his head. He was running around throwing grenades just to burn the world down. Doffy only convinced him to join the family by telling him he'd do more damage that way."

“Pissy lil’ nihilist from the start, was he?” Vergo huffed as he put his cigarette to his lips. ‘well, he did a hell of a lot of damage. Looks like a certain someone just pointed him in the wrong direction. Wish I coulda told Doffy that Rosi was a rat from the start.”

"If wishes were horses, little brother," Diamante sighed, and blew a long breath of smoke from his wide lips. "Violet though, Vi was never like that. She knew how to see reason from the start. Hell, I think there was a part of her that liked us from the start, even considering."

Vergo chuckled, leaning on the railing with a nostalgic bent to his thin and easily missed smile. “You aren’t wrong about that. Vi heard the pitch and she joined up without hesitatin’...to save her family, sure, but she understood reason, like you said.”

He put his cigarette between his lips “I think that part of her was bigger than she liked to let on, too. The things she did for our family? The bodies she left behind, the way she came alive with Doffy, all of us? Nobody fights like that for a cause if they don’t like the people it’s for.”

"Well. Not unless they just really love fighting." Diamante chuckled. "Our Violet's got a blood lust in her that the royals are never going to let her give into the way we are. But I think you're right and it goes beyond just that."

“They sure ain’t,” Vergo laughed roughly “they’d stifle it, pretend it was just our influence on her and it could be washed away with ‘victory’.”

He shook his head with his wry little smile, his eyes staring out on the deep blue sea “but it’s who she is. I know I wasn’t there for a ton of family meetings, but I can tell. She wouldn’t have burned her bridges to the winning side if she didn’t care about us.”

"She sure the fuck would not have. That was an absolute lunatic move, you know?" Diamante grinned– he was sure Vergo could hear in his voice how he felt about that. He leaned on the railing beside him, shoulder to shoulder with him staring out at the water. If he'd had Violet's power, he'd have been able to look straight out and see to where they were heading– to look in on their fearless leader under seastone lock and key.

Maybe Vergo was thinking the same thing as he watched the waves.

“You can say that again. A lunatic move that goes to show ya…” He put his cigarette back to his lips , having seemed to forget about it for a moment to let it burn down towards his fingers. “Vi’s just as much of a lunatic as the rest of the family. Even if the royals managed to lead her astray for a bit.”

"Yeah. And I for one am sure as hell not complaining."

The course was set with Violet’s power, even in the chaos of navigating in the New World she was able to lock them on to the fleeing Marine ship and get the ship headed in the right direction. With the navigation taken care of for the moment she’d taken to settling into a quiet corner of the ship to ‘watch’. Her eyes traveled the ship, checking up on the wounded from afar and the skeleton crew they were sailing with as they went about their duties.

Baby 5 had turned her arm into a butcher’s knife and was attacking vegetables in the kitchen with such zeal that Violet was tempted to peer into her mind and see just whose face she was imagining. The wounded were healing, and Vergo and Diamante were out on the deck smoking in quiet conversation.

When she’d picked up her name on their lips, curiosity drove her out of the seclusion she’d self-imposed to the door to the deck to listen in the old fashioned way. Maybe it was curiosity…or maybe it was fear that they didn’t trust her as much as she’d hoped they might…or maybe it was hope that she’d like what she heard.

She wasn’t sure what drove her to listen in as they talked amongst themselves…but when the tail of their conversation drifted through the crack of the door, she felt a stir inside her to push the door open and lean on the arched doorframe with a playful smirk.

“A lunatic led astray, am I?” she called out to the men.

Diamante turned toward her as she appeared in view and crossed his arms. "Well hey now, you know I tend to like lunatics."

Violet rested the side of her head against the doorframe as she stared him down before pushing herself off it to sashay across the deck and lean against the railing a few feet away.

“Probably for the best given the whole family’s full of them, don’t you think?” she winked at him, before turning her eyes to the sky “you’re right, of course. I’m hardly an exception.”

Vergo chuckled in that familiar rough way of his. He was one of the former executives she’d known the least due to his mission, but he was hardly a stranger. His job and hers had had their crossover time and time again.

“You sure ain’t, Vi. I imagine you heard most of that.”

"Can't imagine she didn't," Diamante agreed. He got out a fresh cigarette and lit it off the dying embers of the last one, before offering his pack around. "Come to lodge a complaint?"

She closed the distance to take one before she shook her head, turning the cigarette over in her fingers.

“I was checking up on everyone,” she admitted. “I still don’t know if most of the family’s going to want to see me just yet, so I was making the rounds with my eyes.”

Vergo held his burned down cigarette towards Diamante to light instead of his fresh one– probably having forgotten which was which in his strange inattention. “And you happened to overhear, huh? Like what you heard?”

Diamante echoed the question with his eyebrows, glancing at her curiously while he just sighed and put his own fresh cigarette in Vergo's lips instead, and went to fish for another one.

Violet finally balanced the cigarette between her lips. She’d been smoking a lot lately. The nerves had been building up since she was pacing the palace– she needed some way to relieve them. Old vices were good for that.

Of course Vergo had cut straight to the heart of it. A simple question at first blush that was anything but. ‘Vi is a girl who saw reason’, their approval of the blood lust that simmered inside her even when it was stifled by palatial civility, their assessment of her feelings all the time she’d been working with them with a knife hovering over their backs, and the simple fact that they’d seemed…relieved…that she was back.

They talked about her like she was part of the family again, just like that.

She let the question simmer for a moment as her dark eyes lidded.

“I did,” she finally answered. “It's funny though.”

"Funny, eh?" Diamante lit her cigarette for her with his lighter and then finally lit his own– now the third out of his pack since he'd given the first to Vergo– on the burning cherry of hers.

She took a pull off the cigarette, helping light his own as she looked up and into his eyes.

Vergo thanked him with a raise of his hand before he took a long pull, listening in.

“Everything you two like about me,” she said as smoke drifted from her soft lips. “are the things I’ve been told I shouldn’t give into.”

"Well that's not shocking," Diamante said, his wide lips twisted into a grin around his cigarette. "Nice people tend to disapprove of fun for some reason."

“I’m gonna blame the World Government with its stick up its ass.” Vergo laughed sharply. “I’ve been stuck with ‘em long enough to see exactly where it’s trickling down from.”

Violet chuckled into her hand.

“And mean people, evil people, simply don’t care who gets in the way of their fun. Something the royals– the World Government– absolutely hates.” She closed her eyes thoughtfully “you two were making guesses on if I ever really liked it with the family, weren’t you?”

"We were, yeah," Diamante acknowledged. He brushed some of his long hair out of his face, leaning back on the railing. "You going to set the record straight on that?"

“Would you believe me?” She looked at them out of the corner of her eyes.

Even as she dodged the question she remembered the nights spent with the Donquixote Family. Lively meals with rogues as warm-hearted and interesting as they were violent and dangerous. Quiet moments with people with difficult pasts and complicated hearts– .affection, bloodshed, passionate, feverish dancing in the night with a ‘heavenly demon’ and his host of pirates and scoundrels.

Her heart rate beat faster as she took a long drag from her cigarette. She could vividly remember the first person she’d stabbed on their orders, the feeling of the hot blood on the curve of her fingers and the shake of the metal as it lodged deep inside.

“Dodging the question like always, Vi.” Vergo pointed his cigarette at her with a lopsided smile. “very you…but I’d be willing to give you the benefit of the doubt.”

"You've earned back a hell of a lot of credibility just being here," Di pointed out. "Zero reason to be here if you don't give a shit, right?"

Violet took a drag as she hefted herself up to sit on the edge of the banister. It was a dangerous position for a devil fruit user on the open sea, but the thrill of danger urged her on as she answered.

She flashed a smile.

“No reason at all, boys. I’m actively sabotaging my entire life back in Dressrosa every moment I’m on this ship. If simply turning my back on my father as we sailed past his blockade hadn’t already done that.” She held up the cigarette , hand waving in a circular gesture reminiscent of waving it all away. “I hated myself, Vergo, Di.”

Diamante's eyebrows raised again, and he puffed on his cigarette. "No shit? What do you mean by that exactly, Vi?"

Violet chuckled, swaying her leg as she placed the cigarette back between her lips. “At first I’d only agreed to Doffy’s proposal to save my family…admittedly? I didn’t understand why he’d even humor letting me join at all— until I peered into his mind.”

He'd meant the offer sincerely, without intention to double-cross her. If she joined, she'd be family to him, and if there was one thing he was ruthless in, it was the defense of his 'family'. She saw a man for whom blood bonds had brought nothing but suffering. Who believed, in his own twisted way, that real family was forged and fought for. Even sacred.

She closed her eyes.

“it wasn’t what I expected to see. Even with the weight of my sister’s death dragging me down, I could see a man offering his own version of ‘family’. I…understood…in that moment what kind of man Doflamingo was.”

Vergo huffed “a better man than most…and you got a front row seat to the shit he’s been through and what he’d do for us.”

What he'd been through. Yes, she'd picked through his memories too. Then, and afterward. She'd seen the horrors that showed up in his nightmares when he woke up gasping for breath and reaching for a bottle. She'd seen the brutality that he'd endured. It made the brutality he meted out seem almost civil in comparison.

Would her sister have been disgusted with how fast her sympathy towards the ‘Heavenly Demon’ had developed? No, she wouldn’t have. Scarlett could be judgemental at times, but she had a warmer heart than any.

Viola saw a man, a bad man festering in the heart of Dressrosa, who was at the same time wounded and passionate. Loving, if you were among those he loved, and protective…she couldn’t look away, and she found herself caring for him…and the rest of the desperate misfits he’d taken under his feathered wing.

“I did. And sooner than I expected he drew me in,” she took a long pull off her cigarette “I joined without a moment’s hesitation…and he welcomed me as family.” The smoke spilled from her lips.

“And where’s the self hate come in?” Vergo asked. “You mentioned that, right?”

"Yeah, that's where this whole question started," Diamante nodded. He was looking at her in a rather scrutinizing way. "I have a few suspicions what she'll say, but I wanna hear it."

She laughed. “No patience. You two have no patience!”

She leaned back on the banister, her back to the open sea and her eyes on the stars above as her expression sobered .

“...I started to like you all. Love you like my own family some nights. I liked Doffy…I liked the work and the opportunities he gave me to kill…to fight, to deceive. I liked being a pirate, and being one of you.” She blew a stream of smoke into the sky. “And I hated myself for it. It was a betrayal to my sister. To my niece who resisted your pull enough to keep fighting in the arena. To my father, and the tontattas. I felt sick whenever I thought about how much I cared.”

Diamante nodded. "Conflicted loyalty. Yeah, no, that's exactly what I thought you'd say. That's gotta hurt like hell. Make you doubt yourself in both directions."

Vergo nodded “if I didn’t have my history with Doffy, I mighta felt the same with the G-5 grunts I whipped into shape.” he murmured “it isn’t easy.”

“Torn apart in a violent dance of passion and loyalty,” Violet smirked thinly around her cigarette. “I broke in a way I couldn’t feel like a part of either. So…the answer is yes. I cared for you all very much. Even if I betrayed you in the end.”

"Wasn't the end though, was it?" Diamante said pointedly, taking a long puff of his cigarette. "If it was the end, you wouldn't be here now. Seems more like a bump in the road. Or a turning point."

Vergo pointed with his cigarette.

“damn right. It ain’t gonna be easy. It could still be rough, but it wasn’t like you made your final choice.” His jaw set “not like some people did.”

Violet reached over, teetering briefly on the banister as she shifted, and squeezed his shoulder. “It’s true…but this was the turning point. There’s no going back for me now.” Her lips twitched before they formed a sharpened smile.

“I chose the Family.”

Diamante smiled back, his teeth showing like a hunting dog's. "The way I see it, you made the right choice. We're damned glad to have you back. Might take some people a little time to forgive completely but fuck, we've all given each a little hell now and then. People will get over it."

It was an admission, really. Diamante, she could tell, was already finding himself basically 'over it'.

Vergo laughed sharply again. “Giving one another a ‘little hell’, yeah, you’ve got that right! In my book, Vi…the minute we get Doffy back it’s water under the bridge.” He tilted down his sunglasses to wink at her.

She winked back, tossing her hair back as she hung tight to the banister, a teasing purr entering her voice “I’ll just have to prove myself again…to the rest at least. I can already tell I’ve got my hooks in you again, Di.”

"What can I say, Vi? I'm just a real easy going guy." He shrugged in a fluid gesture. She could tell that he was thinking of all the bad blood that by rights, should be between them. "You forgive me, I forgive you. We move on with our lives and enjoy each others' company."

“I do.” she said with a thin smile “I do forgive you.”

Scarlett, her beloved older sister,still weighed heavy in her heart. Her death had really broken something inside her…but she knew her sister. She wouldn’t want her to wallow in hatred. She’d been convinced to give Kyros a chance and found her happiness with a ‘violent and temperamental criminal’ by Dressrosa’s condemnation…surely she would have forgiven Di too?

“I couldn’t stop myself from enjoying your company before…and now I don’t even have to fight it. Not anymore.”

"Yeah," Diamante nodded. "That's worth something, right? Finally having that answer?"

Vergo watched her with a sly smile, and she caught his eye as she tipped back on the banister again, feeling the pull of the ocean far below.

“It feels like freedom.”

#violet one piece #viola one piece #donquixote doflamingo #diamante one piece #vergo one piece #donquixote family #fanfiction #fan fiction #fanfic #archive of our own #ao3 #darkfic #dark fic #fic: unbound by blood

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to-star-lake · 3 years

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one & only

sanzu haruchiyo x f!reader { you're sanzu's one and only. }

18+ minors dni | murder, drug use, dark themes, rough sex, choking, toxic relationship, character death, bonten sanzu

a/n: sanzu's name { 三途 } is written the same as 三途の川 { sanzu-no-kawa, “river of three crossings” or “sanzu river” } which is the japanese buddhist version of the river styx.

sanzu doesn't call you his girlfriend. he'd never use such pedestrian language to describe what you are to him. soulmate is closer. but still, to take everything he felt about you and edit it down to a single word? it wouldn't be possible.

the best he could describe it is perhaps that you were made for him.

the day mikey introduced you to the other executives as bonten's newest advisor, sanzu stood in the back of the room, unconsciously biting his lip as he stared at your clean and crisp white tee shirt, tucked neatly into a pair of black slacks. your perfect skin. your shiny hair pulled back into a neat ponytail. your delicate hands. and the sharp glisten of your eyes. you looked so sincere.

a top scholar and graduate of the national university. your parents had been foreign diplomats. you spoke five languages. all this brilliance packaged neatly behind such a pretty face. oh, you were so perfect. so pristine. i'll make you regret playing with monsters, little princess. sanzu thought he couldn't wait to break you.

it didn't take him long to realize how wrong he was.

he'd stare at your hands, the ones he thought were so delicate, as they beat mercilessly into the skull of a traitor that lay limp beneath you. being a bonten advisor meant you never needed to get your hands dirty. but you didn't mind. and sanzu felt a trickling heat of excitement shimmy up his spine watching the blood splatter across your perfect skin, staining your clean shirt.

he'd listen in awe in the war room as your fingertips traced gracefully over blueprints of the city, and you'd describe plans for a new building downtown. a new shell business to run money through. a merger with a smaller, weaker gang simply as a means to procure disposable foot soldiers for mikey.

on one particular night, he'd sat back and watched you, transfixed, as he pulled the car up beside a dark tinted suv at a stoplight on a deserted street on the outskirts of shinjuku. you'd pointed your gun out the open window, so fast and precise on the trigger, taking out all the passengers in the car. he would've missed the shots with a single blink.

he couldn't recall all the details of the rest of that night. but he woke to find you in his bed the next morning, your naked body tucked comfortably under his sheets beside him.

his head pounded and he tried to remember what happened but all that he could recall were a series of blurred images. of the two of you leaving the war room together after receiving orders from mikey to take out the heads of a rival gang. a vision of your bare thighs, exposed under a short, plaid skirt as you sat in his passenger seat, and the quiet rattle as you attached a silencer to the end of your gun.

he remembered the sound of indistinct chatter and an image of you sitting across from him in a dimly lit restaurant. a vague recollection of a bottle of scotch, of him staring at himself in the restaurant's bathroom mirror as he wiped some white residue from his upper lip. of you, bent over the sink with a straw in your nose. a blurred reel of your legs wrapped around his waist, of him pushing you up against the mirror so hard the glass cracked and you moaned into his open mouth. you sounded as sweet as you tasted.

in the grey winter light here in his bed, he looked at the blotches of blue and purple bruises that lined your neck and chest. at the edge of your perfect lips, a little swollen and the skin a little cracked. at the indentation of teeth marks on your shoulder, red with coagulated blood under the surface.

your eyes fluttered open and for a moment he was afraid. afraid that the cold light of day would be too harsh for you. afraid that all that was mystifying and beautiful in the night would be destroyed by the light. afraid you would leave.

but you'd looked into his eyes for a moment, and your lashes fell closed and you'd snuggled into his side, languidly dragging your arm across his chest.

let's sleep a little more, my head hurts and we still have at least another hour before we have to go meet the others.

oh, your voice sounded so sweet, still raspy with sleep, a lullaby to his ears.

as bonten leaders, he knew a relationship with you was strictly forbidden. he knew what mikey would do if he or any of the others ever found out. and he knew you knew too.

but you simply shrugged your shoulders as you picked up your clothes that were scattered across the floor of his bedroom. like you knew what he was thinking, and said i'm not afraid of them. are you?

he'd laughed at himself then. just who was corrupting who? he wondered.

the time he had with you began to envelope his heart. and the love he felt for you; small, crackling embers at first, had grown into a fire so bright and wild and twisted it could not be extinguished.

you were his partner; his chosen one. he loved the way your knuckles looked when they were bruised and red; such a beautiful contrast against your delicate and soft skin. he loved the way your fingers graced the handle of your gun, the dead calm of your eyes when you pulled the trigger. he was intoxicated with the knowledge that you were watching every time he carried out his duty as executioner.

his infatuation with you burned in his chest when he'd glance up at you, standing in the distance, eyes fixed on him and you'd slowly drag the palm of your hand up your thigh; testing his willpower to not pin you to the ground and tear you apart right then and there in front of his men.

under the cover of darkness, the two of you came alive. going on sprees, speeding through the bright streets of tokyo, the lights around you a blurred spectral of color to your bloodshot, medicated eyes.

in the midnight hours, your bodies would be intertwined, and in your arms he found a sanctuary. your body was the most addicting drug of all. you made all the pain disappear.

the quiet hours of the early morning, when time teetered on the edge of night and day, he'd lay on your chest, and for just a little while, his world would fall quiet. the air around him felt still. he would be coming down from his high, and he could feel everything. but he didn't mind. these small hours of lucidity shone brilliantly in his mind. when he could hear your breathing. feel your heartbeat so vividly beneath your bones. smell the lingering and sweet scent of your skin on his.

he'd become so possessed by you, so possessive of you that one night when he had you laid out beneath him, your legs spread wide for him, and he thought you looked so beautiful like this. so perfect like this for him. your skin, slick with a layer of sweat, luminescent in the moonlight. your lips, parted and choking out shaky pleas for him, begging him not to stop.

he buried himself so deep inside you, nails clawing into your skin, so desperate to be one with you. and he thought no one, no one else would have you like this. he was so intoxicated by the medley of pills in his system, completely unhinged in the euphoria of being inside you, he'd reached for his gun on the nightstand and held it to your forehead, point blank between your eyes.

you didn't even flinch. he watched you knock the gun from his hands, and slide your fingers up his wrists, and pulled his hands to your neck, letting him wrap them around your throat. if you're gonna kill me, do it with your own hands, you'd said.

god, he loved you so much. he wanted you so much, he needed you so much. he'd closed his hands around your neck with the gentlest force and watched your eyes roll back.

say my name, he'd command. and when you did, he closed his hands more forcefully around your delicate neck so he could feel the vibration in your throat as you choked out his name over and over. you'd clenched down so tight around him and he came harder than he ever had, collapsing into you.

he'd slowly let go of you, chest heaving, and gently caress at the skin of your neck, red and starting to bruise.

y/n...if i died, would you die with me? he'd whisper into your skin.

mmh, yeah. you'd whisper back.

i don't want anyone else to have you. i want you to be mine forever. he'd kiss the corner of your lips.

he'd feel your fingers laced up into his hair, your legs wrapped around his hips, pulling him close.

what am i going to do with you...i might really kill you one of these days.

he'd lift his head to look at you. and your expression didn't change a bit. your eyes held the same resolve they always did, and you said, then i'll wait for you by the sanzu river.

this was what flashed through his mind when he walked into one of bonten's warehouses late one evening for a meeting of the executives, and he saw all of them standing in a circle around you, bound and tied, blood streaming from your hairline, your bruised body limp on the concrete.

he fell to his knees then, watching mikey shove the end of his gun against your temple.

did you think i wouldn't find out? mikey's thumb clicked down on the hammer.

he saw your eyes flutter open and find his. you smiled.

the muzzle flash was bright, and the shot rang through the dark, open space.

he stared at the blood pooling from the side of your head into the dust. he felt a single tear roll down his cheek. shit, am i really crying right now? he laughed at himself.

WHO ARE YOU LOYAL TO, SANZU?! mikey demanded.

i'll wait for you by the sanzu river. your words echoed in his mind.

mikey may have been his king. but you were the redeemer, his messiah, his salvation.

the choice was simple.

he pulled his own gun from its holster and held it up to his temple.

i'm on my way, love.

#haruchiyo sanzu x reader #tokyo revengers imagines #tokyo revengers x reader #tokyo revengers smut #tokyo rev #tokyo revengers x you #sanzu haruchiyo #sanzu imagines

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ma-gic-gay · 4 years

Note

He'd always had the worst timing when it came to her.

In his defense, so had Sonny. Though, for them being together, those two had had good timing.

So timing was still just being a bitch. This time, though, it wasn't him in the shocked position. For once, he wasn't the one who was blindsided with something.

Well, not entirely anyways. He'd figured that Sam would run to Sonny, manipulating the situation, but he didn't think she'd get him here that fast. It was what, five minutes? He must've flown here or something, but that would've taken longer just to get through the flight frills. The only way for him to get there that quickly would be that he was nearby anyways, so there was a chance he heard a part of their fight. Realistically, Sam will be there as well, right behind the fuming mob boss.

Him and Carly had ended that kiss the second Sonny had announced his presence by loudly asking, "What the fuck?"

"I promise it's not what it looks like," Carly rushes out quickly, a blush overtaking her cheeks. Damn, she really isn't much of a liar anymore. Kinda sucks she lost that trait, though she's still one of the best liars he's ever met.

"What it looks like is that you were kissing someone else while we're married," Sonny says, voice scarily quiet. "How is that not what's happening here?"

"Alright, maybe it's a little bit what it looks like," she admits. "Actually, it's exactly what it looks like but I don't want you to be mad at him because it's a thing we both did and technically I kissed him first so it doesn't count as him doing anything. Well, maybe a little because he kissed me back, but it doesn't count as anything serious."

"Smooth," Jason mutters before looking at his boss who looks like he'll kill him right then and there without hesitation.

"I'm trying to save your ass here," she whispers back.

"And I'm trying to save your marriage!"

"You really think that's what's happening here? How- how is kissing her somehow saving my marriage, Jason? Please tell me, I'd be delighted to know," Sonny chuckles sarcastically. "Cause from where I'm standing, it seems like, if anything, you'd be the reason to end my marriage."

"He is not to blame," Carly exclaims again.

"I'm sorry, is this a thing about you two I just don't get?" Sonny asks mockingly, noting that she's mad. That's what he wants, her mad, as mad and hurt as he is.

"No," Jason says calmly. "It's not. That- this- that's the first time that happened."

"You two could've had a happily ever after decades ago," Sonny exclaims, "but you weren't. What, is this some nostalgia thing, huh? Now that he's single you suddenly can't keep your hands off of him?"

"That's enough, Sonny! In case you forget, you're the reason we didn't," Jason warns, voice not giving away emotion.

"She slept with me after she saw you and Eli-"

"After you told her I was dating Elizabeth? She was distraught that night, worried sick she'd lose me! You knew damn well that we weren't doing anything and that I didn't feel that way for Elizabeth but you didn't tell her that, no, you tell her I'm in love with someone who was a grieving friend! You knew what I felt for Carly and you still lied to her about what had happened, you. Not me, not her, you," Jason fires back angrily.

"That's got nothing to do with this! Last I checked, I wasn't the one who'd kissed a married woman," Sonny shouts.

"You're right, you tore my family away from me but you, somehow, are the victim," the morally grey assassin says, volume steady. "I forgave you for that a long time ago, but it still hurts to think about."

"And you kissed my wife!"

"I kissed him first!"

"He kissed back, and from where I was standing, he initiated the kiss!"

"The second one!" Carly exclaims.

There's a silent tension in the air between the two and Sonny when she admits that. "Second kiss? So you mean to tell me that he kissed you after you'd already kissed once?"

"That would be the meaning of second kiss, yes," Carly smirks slightly. "I kissed him first and he didn't register it until I'd pulled away so when he realized what was going on he kissed me back. We've kissed twice. Happy?"

"No, not really! I just found out my best friend and my wife have some unresolved feelings for each other!" Sonny snaps. "Things I thought had been gone for years are back and I don't know what to do about it because you're supposedly friends with me, supposedly my business partner! You helped me make this business from the start! I'm hurt that you did this, Carly, but especially that he kissed you back."

"I'm your friend," Jason attempts to defuse the situation, "but that doesn't mean I always have to do things you like."

"Things I like?" Sonny snarls. "I'd like it if you didn't have feelings for her!"

"So would I," Sam smiles, emerging from the hall, "I had my suspicions but you still shouldn't have been with me when you had feelings for her."

"I didn't know I did until maybe two days ago! I thought I was over that but clearly I'm not!" Jason glares.

"So did I. I mean, I figured I was taking this to the grave. Sonny's a good guy and I don't not love him," Carly says, confusing the hell out of everyone. "But it's friendly love more than it is romantic by now."

"So you stayed with me when you were in love with him?" Sonny asks, looking her dead in the eyes.

"Yes," the blonde quietly admits after a moment of uncomfortable silence. "Him and Sam were together and they'd worked so hard for that. They were happy, as far as I knew."

"You managed to hide what you feel for that long? That in and of itself is a miracle," Jason teases her slightly, but being pretty serious still. "But in all seriousness, that must've sucked for you. I know how little you enjoy hiding your feelings."

"Well, what I feel affects a lot of people."

"But I care what you feel, you know that," he smiles at her. "Don't hide it because of how it'll affect me."

"Well right now I feel like running for the hills," she smiles.

"I feel like knowing why you two are acting like this," Sonny joins in. "You should be feeling like shit right now and full of guilt over these kisses and feelings."

"Surprisingly, I don't. Honestly, I feel... Relieved. It's refreshing to have everything out in the open. We both know how we feel about each other and it's love. I don't think guilt would go along with this," Jason informs him calmly.

Sonny charges at him and shoves the surprised assassin against the wall. "Don't you ever say that again! You don't love my wife and she doesn't love you!"

"I do, Sonny! Stop this! You're an adult for god's sakes, so just discuss this rationally," Carly shouts.

A very emotionally conflicted Jason shoves Sonny off of him and walks back to where he was before, next to Carly. "I had no clue he would do this, did you?" She asks him as he shakes his head. "I knew he'd be pissed, but this is a new level of anger. I've never seen it from him."

Nodding, Jason agrees with her. "Yeah, I don't know what to do."

"I've got a suggestion," Sam interjects. "You don't fall in love with her!"

"That's not something you can help, genius," Carly snaps, "and even if it was, you aren't doing much to help calm him down so leave, buy something, or be helpful."

"I was trying to be!"

"By suggesting something you know to be impossible?" Jason quips.

"I'm coping too!" Sam weakly defends herself. "I love you still even though you don't love me anymore. Stop acting like you two are the victims!"

"We're not trying to but you need to stop acting like everything stops because you're mad," Carly explains as calmly as she can.

"Stop it! Jason, get the hell away from her," Sonny warns, "right now. You two aren't in love! You're, what's the word, projecting! Projecting your feelings for other people onto each other. Jason's for Sam and Carly's for me."

"Don't touch her," Jason warns, arm around Carly. "I know what I feel better than you. What reason does Carly have to project feelings?"

"I don't know! But you aren't her husband! So stay away from my wife," Sonny argues and a slightly scared Carly is grateful for the protection of her best friend. Especially at that moment, it comes in handy always.

"I'm not projecting or faking feelings! Sonny, go home!"

"Where Joss and Avery and Donna are? That's a great idea, they can see me like this!"

"That's never bothered you before."

"You've never cheated on me before."

"Get. Out."

"No," Sonny says, grasping for his wife's hand. "Let's go."

"She said leave, Sonny. Go." Jason advises.

"I'm not listening to you, you worthless traitor!"

"Don't call him either of those things! He's stuck by you and me through everything, Sonny, everything, and is the most loyal man I could ever know! Stop being pissed and throwing a fit and grow the hell up!" Carly snaps at her husband, grasping Jason's free hand in hers.

"C'mon, Sonny, let's go," Sam agrees, having seen enough.

To be continued

AHH

#all caps

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annaphoenix1994 · 3 years

Text

Horseshoe Overlook - Paying a Social Call

Four days went by as the coarse ropes dug sores into her wrists and ankles. She was still wearing the dress that she had changed into before her father was killed. She was only offered water early in the morning and food late in the evening. Her stomach constantly rattled, telling her brain that she was on the brink of starving as well as fatigue. She felt utterly weak and severely dehydrated. She leaned her head back as she felt another wave of nausea hit her, wondering if death would be a better option.

"What's wrong? Ya hungry?" She heard Colm mock as he sat in one of the chairs at the small table, counting heaps of money.

"Not too bad," She croaked, not wanting to give up her fight.

"Good, 'cause ya got a few more days," He smirked.

"Before what? You kill me? I can't wait." She rolled her eyes.

"No, before we turn ya in." He replied.

"I'm countin' the hours." She replied, looking up at the ceiling, wishing that those days would never come.

"Boss, you sure this is a good spot?" One of his men asked as he walked into the cabin, looking down at Minnie before giving her a sharp kick to the hip, rattling her wave of nausea once more.

Colm's brows rose as he put down the money he was counting, "We ain't been shot up yet, have we?" He snarled. "Besides, looks like her pa had some money stashed away in the chest there. Looks to be a few thousand." He chuckled, purposely fanning the money in front of Minnie, showing her that it was in fact the money she would gift to her father every time she came to visit, realizing that he never deposited it as it was stolen money.

She frowned as she remembered the thought before her hazel eyes stared daggers into Colm's, "That don't bother me." She taunted.

He pursed his lips as he didn't like being mocked by the only woman he wanted most. He thought twice about killing her himself after he had his way with her, but something about her emerald hazel eyes and her flushed complexion made him rise and he couldn't think of her feeling cold.

"What're we doin' with her?" One of his men asked.

"Few more days and I'll have you and Tom take her to Saint Denis and turn her in for the bounty. That money will be enough to get us outta this dump and somewhere nice. Sell her horse, too." Colm suggested as he finished counting the money before storing some of it in the brick of the chimney, keeping it hidden.

"And you?"

"I'm gonna finish countin' this money here and have a few of my guys follow me back to our other hideout to stash it. A place like this is likely to catch like a torch. Can't have all of it goin' to waste." Colm explained.

"Alright, boss. I'll keep a lookout while you're away," The old man said. Minnie looked at him disgusted as his thin brown hair and thick mustache coaxed his face. His brown eyes had the look of hatred in them as he did his best to be at the top of the pack, earning a special place in the O'Driscoll gang.

───※ ·❆· ※───

Arthur stretched as he awoke with the morning sun, embracing the cool spring air as it was his ideal temperature. He walked to the fresh pot of stew, spooning his bowl full before getting a tin of coffee, wondering what he was going to do throughout the day. He looked around to see what members were missing as they all had a few side quests and activities to do, seeing that every member, except Trelawny, was not present.

"Mister Morgan," He heard a familiar voice say, meeting him at the table he was eating at, taking a seat next to him.

"Yes, Miss Grimshaw?" He asked.

"Mister Matthews gave me a message for you, he said when it was convenient to head into Emerald Ranch. He's lookin' at a few business things there." Susan explained.

"Okay." Arthur nodded.

Susan chuckled, "He'll find something, too, he always does."

"That he does." Arthur chuckled.

"Well, you be well, Mister Morgan," She smiled.

"I'm always well, Miss Grimshaw." He assured as he put his daily token of gratitude within the camp funds box. With his tin of coffee, he made his rounds throughout the camp, smirking at Kieran Duffy still tied to the tree since they arrived in Horseshoe Overlook. 'He's damn lucky we picked out a tree with shade,' Arthur thought to himself as he walked up to the young man.

"Please, talk to them for me!" Kieran begged.

"You got some speakin' to do of your own... About that old gang of yours." Arthur taunted.

"I said... I told you... I don't know nothing!"

"That's what I thought."

"Woah! Hold your horses there," Dutch intervened as he was accompanied by Bill, walking quickly to the situation, afraid that Arthur was going to start beating the man. "It seems the cat has got our friend here's tongue. I was thinking Mister Williamson could have a word."

"You ready to talk boy?" Bill taunted, puffing his chest.

"I told you, Mister... I told all of you. I don't know nothing, okay? They-They ain't no friends of mine. I just been ridden with them for a while." Kieran explained.

"Horseshit!" Bill hissed, clenching his fists. "You see, we heard that part, so why don't you tell the truth? Dutch, what do you want me to do?" He asked.

"Hurt him so the next time he opens his mouth, it is to tell us what is going on!" Dutch commanded. "Ah, who am I kiddin'? One of O'Driscoll's boys couldn't open his mouth but he'd tell a lie. Screw it, let's just have some fun, huh? Geld him." He said, using his fingers to mimic a scissor to Bill, seeing that he was eager to do the deed.

"Oh yeah!" Bill replied, quickly breaking away to retrieve the tongs from the fire.

"What's he doing? Where's he going?" Kieran asked before Dutch pulled down the young man's pants, exposing him.

"Oh don't worry! They're only balls, boy! Just gonna cause you trouble!" Dutch warned. "You know, in Imperial Rome, eunuchs was among the happiest and most loyal of courtiers." He explained.

"No, no, no, no... You're kidding me right?" Kieran panted, his legs shaking as Bill was coming closer with the hot tongs.

"Of course." Dutch replied.

"You sick bastards! What do you want from me?" Kieran cried, trying his best to keep his legs pressed together.

"Well, you are going to talk. The only question is now or after we got these little fellers off?" Dutch explained.

"Okay! Okay! Listen, I know where O'Driscoll's holed up and you're right, he don't like you any more than you like him. He's supposedly at Six Point Cabin! He's been talkin' about it for months. I'll take you there... Serious," Kieran panted. His eyes looked around frantically, hoping that the men wouldn't continue their torture antics. He looked over at Arthur briefly as he never said a word while Dutch and Bill were interrogating him, regarding the pale look on his face as if he were worried, but he didn't think much of it. "I don't like him. I mean, I like him even less than I like you, no offense."

"None taken." Dutch replied, fanning off Bill to put away the gelding tongs.

"Okay then, partner," Arthur finally said, taking his knife and cutting Kieran free from the tree. "Why don't you take a few of us up there right now. I got this, Dutch," Arthur nodded, jerking the young man along with him as well as Bill. "Should be fun. Alright you, come on!" Arthur said as he shoved Kieran in front of him as he pulled up his trousers, trying to hide his embarrassment.

Bill and Arthur chuckled along behind him as they walked to their horses, "Let's both hope you ain't tryin' to trick us, O'Driscoll." Arthur warned.

"I ain't no O'Driscoll!" Kieran protested.

"But you sure as shit was," Arthur growled. "John, come on! We got a social call needs makin'! Where we headin'?" He asked as his heart was beating rapidly. Six Point Cabin, the same cabin the old man he met in town told him about. The same cabin that he associated with Minnie Barlow as the old man was in fact her father. 'He better hope she ain't dead,' He hissed to himself, taking out his anger towards the young man, still wondering to himself as to why he felt the need to be so protective over her when they never even officially met.

"Up into the hills behind Valentine, I'll show you." Kieran said.

Arthur groaned as he mounted his horse, "John, you take this little rattlesnake with you... Any nonsense, kill him."

"Sure." John replied, also mounting his horse.

"We're gonna pay your buddies our respects." Arthur mentioned.

"He taking us to Colm?" John asked.

"That's what he says," Arthur grumbled. "Come on."

'Off to rescue a damsel in distress,' Arthur thought to himself as he was hoping this ride to the cabin was quick.

───※ ·❆· ※───

Arthur's heart pounded as they approached the cabin, seeing that it was overrun with O'Driscoll's. He grew angry at what they had done, not even knowing if she or her father was alive or not.

"The cabin's in the clearin' down there," Kieran whispered. "There'll be a bunch of fellers hidin' out there too."

"Are these fellers armed?" Arthur asked.

"Armed. Drunk. Wary of strangers." He replied.

"And Colm O'Driscoll?" Arthur added.

"Oh, he'll be holed up in that cabin. Be passed out, booze blind, likely as not."

"Over there, someone's comin'." Bill warned as he motioned for them all to get down, John doing so by covering Kieran's mouth to keep him from yelling to his former gang.

"So, uh, who's gonna tell him we ain't got nothin' for the pot?" The men heard the strangers say from below the ridge.

"Let me think, the feller that spooked the game I reckon!" The other replied.

"I'm gonna drain it, I-I'll catch up," One of them said, leaning against a tree to relieve himself.

Arthur looked to John and Kieran, "Shh... Come on," He whispered to Bill, sneaking down the ridgeline.

"What're we doin' about the pisser, Morgan? The one by the tree?" Bill asked as they both took out throwing knives from their possession.

"He's yours, Williamson," Arthur directed, watching Bill nod as he easily took out the man before they both moved on to the pair of members waiting on him, also keeping watch on the camp.

"Good work. We movin' on the camp?" They heard John whisper after killing the two guards. "I left our guide up there. He's meek as a little lamb." John chuckled.

"He better be." Arthur growled.

"What about the one on the log?" John whispered.

"Kill him quietly, Marston," Arthur directed. "Get your hands dirty for a change." He teased.

John chuckled as he made his job look easy, hearing a 'Jesus Christ' from Arthur as he witnessed it.

Their stealth killings didn't go unnoticed as they were spotted by a lone guard, triggering the hail of gunfire in the quiet oasis of the wilderness. A few, long minutes later, Arthur finally halted his gunfire, insisting for Bill and John to start searching the bodies. "I'm gonna go search the cabin!" Arthur announced before being shocked at the discovery of Jameson's body hidden in the old wagon just outside the cabin. His heart broke as the old man had so much to live for, yet he wondered if the same happened to his daughter or if she had escaped. As much as he wished to rescue her, his mind immediately thought of the worst. He sighed as he holstered his pistol, walking up the steps to the cabin before being pushed down by the door, greeted by a smirking man and a shotgun barrel in his face.

Arthur accepted his fate as he braced himself for the blast, only to be halted by the man above him being shot. With a confused look, he turned his head to see Kieran shakily holding a pistol, shooting the man and saving Arthur's life.

"You alright?" Kieran asked as he made sure the enemy stopped breathing.

Arthur's breath hitched as he didn't even want to think that an O'Driscoll saved his life, let alone admit it. He lay his head back down, taking a deep breath, "Sure, thank you." He replied sarcastically before groaning to his feet, storming to the young man as he was soon met by Bill and John. "Colm O'Driscoll... He ain't here. You set us up!" He growled. "Come here!" He demanded as the young man slowly approached him with his hands up. Arthur was sure that if he was a dog, his tail would be tucked between his legs while he pissed himself.

"What?" He dared to ask.

"You set us up!" Arthur hissed.

"No, I didn't!" He protested.

"You did, Colm O'Driscoll ain't here!" Arthur argued, aiming his pistol at the young man's head.

"He was here, I swear! I sw- If I was setting you up, I-I wouldn't have saved your life," Kieran pleaded.

"It's a good point, Arthur," Bill intervened, putting himself in between Arthur and Kieran.

"Alright then, go on, get out of here." Arthur addressed.

"Eh?"

"I won't kill ya."

"I didn't set you up,"

"Get lost!" Arthur demanded.

"Get lost?"

Arthur's face wrinkled as he grew angry, grabbing Kieran by the collar, "I'm lettin' you run away now go on, get out of here!"

"That's as good as killing me!" Kieran argued, daring to walk back towards Arthur. "Out there, without you- Colm O'Driscoll's gonna lose his mind about this!" Kieran pointed.

"So?" Arthur scoffed, resting his palm on his hip.

"So I'm one of you now." Kieran addressed, pointing his finger at him.

Arthur sighed, scratching at his beard, "Give me a break. Aright then," He said as he walked closer to Kieran, pointing his finger in his face, "But I'm warning you."

"Oh, I know,"

"Come on, let's get to camp." Arthur directed as his immense heartbreak couldn't dare to handle the sight of a deceased Jameson and Minnie Barlow.

"So you got the cash then?" Kieran asked, stopping Arthur, Bill, and John in their tracks.

"What cash?"

"Yeah, there's usually some cash in the chimney. Colm always talks about it whenever he plans to take over someplace," Kieran said as he attempted to walk towards the house, only to be stopped by Arthur.

"I'll check it! Rest of you boys get to camp, quick."

"See, Arthur, I ain't so bad!" Kieran proposed.

Arthur turned on his heel, "Hey Bill, you tell Dutch old Kieran ain't worth killin' just yet!" The men nodded as they made their way to camp while Arthur was eager to search the cabin for clues of Minnie Barlow, only to be stopped dead in his tracks by the woman herself, tied up harshly to the cot post with her head tilted back. His jaw dropped as he assumed her to be dead by her pale complexion. He lost all moisture in his mouth as he was still shocked. He hesitated to take a step towards her, even though he didn't think she had any life in her. 'Jesus,' He thought to himself, feeling that it was wrong to search the cabin, feeling like he was robbing her.

He slowly moved around the cabin, the two photos on the hearth catching his attention. He grinned as he looked at the photo of Jameson and his wife on their wedding day before looking at the photo of Minnie as an infant. "Minnie Anna Barlow," He said to himself before putting the photo back on the mantle before turning back to look at her still in the same position. "Guess I'll bury you and your pa someplace proper," He said quietly, knowing that she wouldn't reply. He took out his knife, cutting the rope from her ankles before locating the rope tying her wrists together, finding that there was no rope binding her. As he realized what was happening, the cold feeling of a revolver's barrel was pressed against his exposed chest. 'Smart woman,' He thought, his blue eyes meeting her hazel eyes once more. His breath hitched as she was the most beautiful woman he had seen in quite a while, which was a long while. He didn't want to admit that no matter how beautiful she was, she scared him.

"I don't think so, cowboy," She hissed. She recognized his eyes immediately, but she didn't know what he was capable of and why he was there. In a way, she was grateful that he was, even in the unfortunate circumstances that were about to unfold.

"Woah, easy," He pleaded, holding his hands up in surrender. "I'm not here to hurt you."

"Then why are you here?" She questioned, slowly standing to her feet.

"It's a long story," He sighed, shaking his head, hiding his embarrassment by the brim of his hat.

"What? You one of those O'Driscoll's comin' to finish me off?"

"No, we just killed all them O'Driscoll's, Miss," He tried to explain. "I-I met a man named Jameson in Valentine a few days back and he invited me up here to go huntin'. Well, a couple of weeks ago, we picked up a straggler that ran with Colm and were plannin' to use him as bait. We threatened to torture him if he didn't talk and he said that he knew Colm was plannin' to hide out here and I immediately thought of Jameson," He explained, his hands still up in surrender.

Minnie sighed, lowering her weapon, "Jameson is my father. Colm killed him. He was plannin' to turn me in for the bounty. I don't have much to live for anymore, just take me in." She frowned. As much as Arthur would've liked to have eight-thousand dollars, he couldn't bring himself to take her in, especially in such a fragile state. He could tell she was on the brink of personal famine as well as dehydration. "Do you want me to take you in?" He asked.

She nodded as she refused to look him in the eyes, ashamed of herself. He frowned too before daring to step closer to her, "You know what I'll have to do." He stated.

"I don't care what you have to do. Those men tossed me around like a ragdoll and I couldn't fight back. They starved me and tried to take advantage of me, only to beat me harder when I fought back. Please, Mister, swinging by the neck is far better than this pain I'm in now," She frowned, holding her wrists together, waiting for him to tie them together.

There was no way he was turning her in, but he wasn't going to tell her that. He looked down at the sores on her wrists before looking back at her delicate face, "Do you have any more weapons on you?" He said quietly.

She shook her head, dropping the pistol on the floor.

"Turn around," He said even softer, hating himself for even having to talk this way to a woman, especially one he was minorly attracted to, but he shook that thought from his head as he had to treat her just like every other bounty. He had no idea what she was capable of.

She nodded as she did as he asked, turning her back to him, hoping that he was just going to shoot her, but he didn't. She started to sob quietly as she felt his calloused hands gently grip her wrists, gently tying them back together, trying ever-so desperately to not cause more pain to her.

"Thank you for bein' so cooperative, Miss," He said as he started to guide her towards the front door. He was relieved that she didn't respond as the sound of her voice alone made his skin flush. "You have a horse?" He asked, even though he already knew the answer.

"Yeah, tied up over there," She replied, her eyes fixated on the ground below. "C-Can I see my father?" She asked. His breathing hitched as he didn't know what to say. "I...Erm, I don't know where he is..."

"I do," She frowned, looking at her feet. "They dumped him over there - didn't even bury him," He nodded as his reply, simply following her to where she saw the O'Driscoll's dump her father's body. He stood back to give her privacy, but couldn't help the burn in his chest as he heard her sob after collapsing to her knees. After a few moments, he slowly approached her, seeing that Jameson's body had already started decaying. If he wouldn't have known Jameson by his mustache and clothing, he would've looked like a stranger. "Miss... W-We need to go. The law probably heard all of those gunshots..."

"Then leave me here. They'll come for me." She cried as he helped her to her feet, noting that she was weak.

"I can't do that, Miss."

"Why not? Have other plans for me?" She snapped. He understood that she did it because she was scared and no longer valued herself, feeling like she had given up.

"No, that's not it. C'mon, let's go," He said quietly, untethering her horse from the tree he had been tied to. "Do you have any belongings you wanna take with you?"

She bit her lip, "His banjo and the money I had left for him. I'll burn it before I let the O'Driscoll's get the rest of it... And some of my clothes."

"Okay, I can help you, but we gotta hurry up and get outta here," He warned.

"This I know," She replied. He nodded as he cut her loose, keeping the pistol he had taken from her in his off-hand holster, afraid that she was going to try to rob him. He helped her grab her essentials from the cabin, especially the two photos that were on the mantle that he remembered. He helped her put her extra clothes in a burlap sack, wrapping the two photo frames in a pillowcase to protect them before putting them in the sack too. She grabbed her father's banjo as Arthur slung the burlap sack over his shoulder, ushering her out the door of the cabin, hearing a few weeps coming from her pale lips as he couldn't understand how hard it was for her to leave her home, especially knowing that her father was still there. "You think you're okay to ride your horse?"

"H-Honestly, no. I don't have enough energy." She panted.

He nodded before turning around and picking her up to place her on his horse before tethering her horse to his own, putting her belongings on the saddle, tethering them with the provided saddle strings. He couldn't explain why he did so, but he had figured it was because he was selfish and craving a woman's attention, even if it wasn't intentional. His action didn't make much sense, but he didn't care. 'At least I asked her,' He thought.

"Alright, let's get you back to camp," He said.

"Camp? I-I thought you were takin' me in for the bounty?" She questioned, confused.

"You thought a lot of things, Miss. Remember when you saved my life on that train?" He questioned as he looked up at her from the ground as he was about to mount his horse.

"Yeah?" She questioned, holding brief eye contact with "the man in blue" as he had verified his identity with her as they have in fact met before.

"Let me save yours."

#rdr2 #reddeadredemption2 #arthur morgan #arthurmorgan #minniebarlow

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