I don't think I've ever posted this before but I am always and forever amazed by how Rye and Jesse's different trauma affected them
Rye was peer pressured into a role of dominance with a woman when he was far too young and scared, while Jesse didn't have a choice and was forced into submission
Now when they're older, that past abuse alters their roles during intimacy. Since Rye was made to take control, he instead naturally takes the more submissive role while Jesse gravitates to a dominant one since he never had control. I dunno, it's fascinating to me (I say this as I'm the one who literally made them lmao)
It's been a while since I posted on here, but some OCs have been changed!
The main change is that Rye canonically doesn't die anymore. Well, he does, obviously, everyone dies, but after changing himself for the better he then becomes a derby racer! He obviously isn't the best since right off the bat that's impossible and inaccurate, but he does well and gets only about a few wins under his belt. He named his stallion Scar Face, because ya know
I've been reworking Colt and Delilah's timeline as well, mostly their ages when they met etc etc. So far Colt is a sheriff 21-26, and then gets stabbed and blah blah hospital meets Delilah there, who's 23. INSANE AGE GAP, I KNOW!!!!!!!!!!!!!😨😨😨
Achak is no longer suffering from schizophrenia. It's not needed for his character anymore, I feel like he's some emo middle school oc. Finly still dies however, his hallucinations are simply brought on by his paranoia and anxiety now- just like me! Hell yeah brother who loves that good ol' tactile hallucinations
Phew! I haven't posted a lot of OC stuff, but here's this little drawing to show off the fact that King's tattoo he has (it's a tramp stamp hence the fact you can't see it on him) is semi sentient and can be moved around his body into different designs, and it can be tossed onto other people. When on other people the tattoo will take shape of something that resembles the person it's on most, hence the semicolon when on Jesse
A new OC has entered the roster! Under the read more because they're sorta body horror? Plus their lore might have unsettling themes. Yes I just screenshot the shit on Art Fight lol
and!! i got my first bingo! yay! anyways, let's get it
Characters; Rye Rider, Jesse Hudson, Colt Hudson, and Delilah Hudson
Words; 1,524
Warnings; Swearing, talks about scars, mentions of gunshots and their wounds, anxiety, and tense interactions
Prompt; Hidden Scar
FYI; For anyone confused, please read this story before this one! It has important background knowledge you'll need to know!
“There's my boy!” Colt was chipper as ever, the older man’s soul never dimmed a bit. Cheerful and pleasant, his face looked older than the last time Rye saw him, but his eyes were more youthful.
“Hi, Pa.” Their horses came to a halt outside the small barn house the Hudson folks lived in, the bounty hunter practically flying off his horse to meet his father in a hug. Rye took his time sauntering over, mindlessly taking note of the feeling of his clothing rubbing against his haired legs.
It was hot as balls outside, so the outlaw used what was left of his brain and made the sensible choice to wear shorts and a thinner shirt. He lacked the vest and many layers he was used to, but he didn't want to be a sweaty mess around his boyfriend's family. He'd gotten in trouble for that once already.
“You're looking healthy,” The old gentleman said to his son when they pulled away from the hug. “That's good! Means you're eating as you should. I can tell you're not as twiggy!”
“Pa…” Jesse looked flushed in the face at his father’s comments. He'd always struggled to keep weight on, but didn't have the heart to tell his father. He'd blame the weight loss on working too hard, which in part was the truth.
“I'm just teasin.” Colt gave Jesse a firm pat on the forearm. “Go see your ma, she's inside getting lunch on the way. Help her, will ya son? Let me talk with your friend.”
Right. Rye didn't earn the “boyfriend” title yet. His relationship with Colt had always been rocky, which was understandable. Rye was a changed outlaw, and Colt was a retired sheriff. The man knew of his old profession, so there wasn't denying anything. Besides, Rye knew well enough he wasn't the most charming person in conversation. He frequently made things awkward when he tried using his wits to make the conversation less weird. Unfortunately, his wits were as impressive as a cactus growing in the desert. It didn't help that Colt was remarkably cold towards him.
Jesse said his farewells and trotted up to the barn, a smile on his face. He was happy to be seeing his folks again. The sight of his boyfriend made Rye relax momentarily before Colt cleared his throat, grabbing the fellow’s attention.
Colt was in shorts too, but his front was covered with a simple thing of fabric. Jesse called it… Damn, what was it? Wife blesser, or something of another. Whatever it was, it left the man’s arms exposed, as well as some of his furred grey chest, some of the hair missing around the peak of his scar, barely poking out from underneath the white “shirt”- if you could even call it that.
While taking in the man’s appearance, Rye finally saw the scar Jesse always made a fuss about. Last time they visited Colt had to scold his son for worrying so much for his leg. The scar there was fairly small, and definitely recognizable. A bullet wound.
Colt cleared his throat again, making Rye realize he was shamelessly staring and zoning out. He yanked his eyes to meet Colt’s.
“Sorry, sir.” He apologized, truthful. Colt didn't seem impressed. Though, he never really did.
“ ‘S fine,” He muttered. “Everyone stares at any scar they see now, don't they?” He made a gesture to Rye’s face.
“Right.” The outlaw reached up with his left hand to touch his cheek, the gnarly scar there plenty healed and numb. A boar attack when he was younger. He was blessed to even be standing here now. He definitely got lots of stares for it.
“Anyhoo,” Colt rocked on his heels. “Enough about that. Glad to see you came over for lunch.” It was pretty obvious the man was trying to be nice to Rye despite his distaste for him.
“I'm thankful you allowed me to come. I know I'm not the most, uh…” He felt his face heat with embarrassment. “Y’know.”
The old sheriff chuckled, thick and deep. “Oh, I know. Jesse likes ya, so I can handle you. You're not that insufferable.”
“Oh, well. That's mighty nice of you.” No it's not. He still gave a backhanded insult.
Colt hummed.
The space between them fell silent. This is what always happened. Rye was too scared to say much of anything, because he didn't want to make things worse between them. The anxiety made his face more warm than it already was, an uncomfortable ache settling in his right shoulder. Anxiety seemed to make muscle memory of being shot ring out through his arm.
People likely thought it was a nervous tick when he reached up to rub at his shoulder, but no. He tried to ease away the ache, his boots crunching the dirt underneath them. Colt’s gaze didn't let up.
“Do you remember? Is that why you're so nervous to be around me?”
Rye looked up from the ground he wasn't even aware his eyes drifted to, gazing back at Colt.
“Remember… What?” He asked, unsure by what the older man meant.
“Your shoulder. My leg.” The sheriff explained. “Surely you remember, because I can't think of another reason why you're so skittish around me.”
The outlaw looked down at Colt's leg again, seeing the bullet scar there. Bullet… Bullet…
A ring of a shot played in his ears, but nothing went off around them. A shot in the dark, a manor.
“Shit,” Well, now he remembered. He never forgot, but he never realized. He wished he didn't now. “Fuck- It was you.”
Colt watched in a sense of satisfaction as Rye finally connected the dots, the younger man looking more scrappy when he was scared. “I remember. I'm old, but I can't easily forget a man with a face as fucked as yours.”
Rye gripped his shoulder harder, fingers digging into the fabric. “I-” He was fumbling. “Does Jesse know? Did you tell him?”
“Course not. I wouldn't want to worry him.”
“Please don't. I can't-” Rye swallowed, but his mouth was dry. “I can't lose him. I don't know what you want from me, but-”
“Show me.”
The outlaw paused. “...What?”
“Show me your shoulder.” Colt repeated, firmer this time.
He didn't want to dig his hole any deeper, so Rye obeyed. He pulled up his short sleeve, revealing his scar. It wasn't anywhere near the intensity of his face scar, but it was pretty ugly. Colt leaned closer, looking at it.
“Jesse says you gave up your freedom for a doctor’s visit.” It wasn't much of a question.
“He's right.”
“Well, thank God for that. Those shots can get infected in no time.”
Rye gave a little nod. “Your wife. She was a Stirling, wasn't she?”
“She doesn't know,” Colt eased the other man’s worries. “No one knows. Besides you, of course.”
Thank fuck.
“Can we keep it that way?” He felt selfish for asking.
“Sure, I'm just glad you finally realized!” The sheriff’s mood surprisingly let up, he did seem happier now. “I was thinking you weren't ever going to bring it up. But, I got tired of waiting.”
“No, no.” Rye shook his head as he fixed his sleeve. “I really didn't know it was you. I didn't get a good look at your face, I-”
“Oh, I know. You were just firing to get out. Can't blame ya.”
“Well… Sure you can. I shot you.”
“And? I shot you too. We're even, ain't we?”
Really? Was it that easy? There was no way in hell the man was letting it go that easily.
Rye blinked, a little dumbfounded. “You're not mad? At all?”
Colt shook his head. “No, I'm more frustrated now knowing you weren't scared of me because of our history. You're just an anxious thing then, I suppose.”
“It's nothing against you, sir. I'm just not well around father figures.” He apologized. “My own father passed away when I was young. I just get a bit awkward around other people's families. It's nothing against you.”
“I see.” The older man gave a little nod. “That would explain it. Sorry about that, kid. Didn't mean to make you uncomfortable.”
Kid. Rye couldn't remember the last time he'd been referred to that. The look in his eyes must've given it away, because Colt spoke up again.
“Sorry, didn't mean to call ya that. Just somethin’ I'm used to saying.”
“It’s alright,” Rye wasn't going to admit how much he immediately missed the word. “I'm just glad this is cleared up.”
“Ah, me too.” Colt beamed, his tone friendlier. This time it didn't feel so awkward. “Come, we still have lunch. I can't starve ya.”
The outlaw allowed himself to be ushered inside, his anxiety falling away. He'd learn something that would likely haunt him forever- knowing he shot his boyfriend’s father back in the day- but Colt held no resentment. In fact, he’d just been upset that it seemed like Rye couldn't get past it to begin with.
He was just glad no one knew, and this would be something he'd hold to himself forever.
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