“The Only Wrinkly Monster Who Harasses MY Family Is ME!”

with his head down, hat sat low to cover his eyes, arthur doesn't catch the searching look in her eyes. it was purposeful - he could see her face in his head. forcing a smile but it doesn't reach wide, FRIGHTENED eyes. he'd seen them on mary once, when they were out on the town & a couple guys recognized arthur & it turned into a shootout. it was one of the last times he saw her.

he did not CARE to see that look again.

" it wasn't your fault, arthur. "

carefully, like a wounded dog, arthur lifts his head. the brim of his hat reveals slender shoulders, a long, PALE neck, a pink bottom lip hanging separate from the other & tinged with a frown. hope's eyes are genuine - even after days of travel, it surprises him to see. because now he knows her sympathy is real.

❝ i, erm - don't... huh. ❞

hosea always told him not to babble when he's speechless. it only makes him look simple ( which arthur isn't convinced he's not, to hosea's displeasure ) & he should just keep his mouth shut. but in that moment, he felt almost DESPERATE to respond.

❝ i had an idea. uh.... a thought. might come in handy down the line, but we don't gotta if you'd prefer to turn in. ❞

arthur steps back, his hand falling down to his gunbelt to rest on the cool iron of his revolver. a creature of habit - leaning into guns & violence & preparing for the worst because it's as easy as breathing. mary was right.

he won't ever change.

from her position , hope is more or less eye-level with his injured knuckles . the darkening crimson draws her gaze as he speaks , but she does her best not to linger there for too long. it looks like it hurts . the twinge of sympathy upon her gentle features is plain as her gaze rises to meet his once again , also noting the state of his eye . if only he would just let her help . . . the thought makes something in her heart 𝑨𝑪𝑯𝑬 .

❝ y'don't have anythin' to be sorry for . ❞ she tries to meet his gaze , anyway - but she finds that it is all over the place . not much time needs to be spent theorizing in order to deduce the 𝒐𝒃𝒗𝒊𝒐𝒖𝒔 , rosy lips falling open in stunned realization ❝ you're . . . not blaming yourself for what happened , are you ? ❞

he definitely is , she would bet money on it if she had any of her own . hope is deeply familiar with that look , that feeling - taking on all the weight of the world for everyone else , leaving oneself behind in the process . looking up at him now , she might as well be looking in a 𝑴𝑰𝑹𝑹𝑶𝑹 .

❝ it wasn't your fault , arthur . ❞ she takes the opportunity to stand , needing to emphasize that fact with a firmness remaining crouched would 𝒔𝒊𝒎𝒑𝒍𝒚 not communicate properly . the man had saved her skin too many times to count already , she'll be damned if he discounts all of that as if it were nothing .

❝ please don't do that to yourself , not on my account - okay ? ❞

      this bar was just about the same as any other arthur has ever been to. patched up holes in the walls, flickering lights, mucked up floor from years of dirty boots & tobacco & dried blood. a offensively STALE smell hung in the air that would've had arthur wrinkling his nose in disgust if he weren't already used to bad smells.

      perhaps due to hope baxter. he does not know if she brought along a bottle of that FANCY perfume the girls at camp are always raving about. or maybe that's just how she smells - like the treats arthur used to steal from a bakery stand when he was a boy. when he turns his head towards hope, he almost feels sixteen again. stuffing his face with a warm biscuit while dutch laughs & pats his shoulder in approval.

      ❝ what i'd do ? what, like be a FANCY banker or lawyer ? ❞ arthur answers with a laugh, bringing up his glass to down the rest of his whiskey. ❝ or- or a lawman ? somethin' like that ? ❞ there's another short laugh. it rumbles in his chest as he shakes his head.

      arthur reclines back in his wooden chair, taking the chance to scan the room once again. he's been keeping his eyes on a particular guy in the corner - clad in dark clothes with a hat that goes over his eyes & arthur has been trying to decide if he was a THREAT or not. a drifter or a hunter. he caught a look at the man's hands when he bought a beer - large & rough & scarred. it was too easy to imagine him snatching hope right out from under him.

      the brief moment of consideration passes before arthur's gaze returns to the woman beside him. he noticed how tightly her fingers grip her skirts. wonders why she seems all wound up when coming her was her idea.

      ❝ look, ❞ arthur continues, leaning just a little closer, ❝ fella like me don't get a lotta choices in life. my momma died real young. my father was an even WORSE man than me, if you can believe it. all things considered, i coulda made a whole lot worse choices. ❞

      & then something dawns on him. a reason why miss hope was asking a question like this. she wasn't like bill - a fool who asks dumb questions for no reason.

      he catches another whiff of her. it makes him lower his hat over his eyes & pull back. that helps him think a little clearer. ❝ ... what 'bout you ? ❞

hope  completely  understood  his  hesitance  when  she'd  requested  this  small  reprieve ,  she  even  assured  him  that  she  knows  this  is  stupid  .  .  .  but  she  was  losing  her  mind  sitting  in  𝑺𝑰𝑳𝑬𝑵𝑪𝑬  ,  crammed  into  that  tiny  room  with  him  .  unbeknownst  to  arthur  ,  this  was  actually  one  of  the  less  risky  options  for  stimulation  her  wandering  mind  had  concocted  .  the  rest  ?  well  ,  they  weren't  exactly  decent  thoughts  -  &  would  only  serve  to  complicate  things  further  . 

the  way  he's  caged  her  into  this  corner  of  the  establishment  all  by  their  lonesome  is causing  something  new  &  warm  to  stir  within  her,  certainly  not  helping  her  with  fighting  these  devilish  thoughts.  all  her  life  she's  been  warned  of  this  exact  feeling,  to  never  let  a  man  overrule  her  devotion  to  the  lord  above   -  to  take  advantage  of  her  𝒊𝒏𝒏𝒐𝒄𝒆𝒏𝒄𝒆  .  she'd  always  secretly  scoffed  at  the  notion  ,  that  her  faith  could  be  so  shakable  .

for  the  first  time  ,  she's  beginning  to  understand  the  𝑾𝑬𝑰𝑮𝑯𝑻  of  their  cautionary  sermons  . 

but  arthur  ...  he  isn't  at  all  like  the  men  she's  been  taught  to  be  wary  of  .  well  ,  maybe  he  is  ,  sometimes  -  but  that's  not  all  there  is  to  him  .  the  outlaw  has  never  once  made  her  feel  uncomfortable  or  pressure  her  in  any  way  .  he's  always  kept  a  respectable  distance  ,  even  if  she  quietly  𝒘𝒊𝒔𝒉𝒆𝒔  he  wouldn't  .  all  he's  ever  done  is  protect  her  ,  scaring  off  any  wasted  degenerate  that  so  much  as  looked  at  her  in  a  way  he  didn't  like  .  she's  been  protected  like  a  precious  jewel  all  of  her  life  ,  but  not  like  this  .  sure,  he's  being  well  paid  for  the  service  ,  very  well  paid  -  but  hope  is  sure  there's  something  else  contributing  to  his  steadfast  safeguarding  of  her  .  .  .

or  maybe  she's  just  𝑰𝑴𝑨𝑮𝑰𝑵𝑰𝑵𝑮  things  she'd  like  to  be  true  .  it's  hard  to  say  with  how  little  he  gives  away  behind  that  ruggedly  handsome  countenance. 

her  gaze  drifts  past  his  broad  shoulder,  watching  the  bar's  other  inhabitants  with  the  𝒘𝒐𝒏𝒅𝒆𝒓  of  a  girl  long  sheltered  from  the  world  .  this  is  just  about  the  first  saloon  she's  ever  been  inside  of  &  while  it's  exactly  the  sort  of  den  of  debauchery  she's  been  told  it  would  be  ,  similarly  to  her  traveling  companion  ,  there's  more  to  it  than  that  .

men  are  laughing  ,  smacking  each  other  on  the  back  in  camaraderie  &  singing  𝑩𝑶𝑰𝑺𝑻𝑬𝑹𝑶𝑼𝑺𝑳𝒀  along  to  a  slightly  out  of  tempo  piano  accompaniment  .  there  are  couples  scattered  about  too  ,  speaking  in  hushed  tones  -  smiling  ,  blushing  ,  &  exchanging  tentative  touches  .  in  fact  ,  the  two  of  them  probably  read  to  the  rest  of  the  room  as  exactly  that  :  a  man  &  a  woman  ,  just  getting  to  know  each  other  -  still  in  that shy  tentative  talking  stage  .

there's  a  𝒔𝒑𝒂𝒓𝒌  there  ,  each  of  them  too  burdened  by  their  respective  albatrosses  ,  suffocating  them  of  the  oxygen  it  would  take  to  set  it  ablaze  .

❝  i  dunno  .  .  .  ❞  teeth  sink  into  her  bottom  lip  ,  sky  blue  gaze  flickering  back  to  meet  his  once  more  .  ❝  different  like  ,  having  𝑪𝑯𝑶𝑰𝑪𝑬𝑺  i  guess  .  getting  to  decide  who  you  want  to  be  ,  not  just  what  people  want  from  you  .  .  .  like  that  .  ❞  she  sets  down  her  empty  glass  ,  running  a  dainty  finger  idly  around  the  rim  .  ❝  any  idea  what  you'd  do  ?  ❞

QUASTARI ― ❝ i struggled for a LONG TIME with surviving. and no matter what, you keep finding something to f i g h t for. ❞ ― INDIE & PRIVATE multimuse featuring joel miller from the last of us. game-based with show influences.

Josh Hutcherson as Peeta Mellark The Hunger Games (2012)

Inside me, something seethes. Inside me, some feral animal claws at my ribcage, trapped.

Molly McCully Brown, from Places I’ve Taken my Body: Essays

tag drop

     surprise flickers over arthur's face immediately, attention shooting back over in time to watch the way hope's eyes expand. her fingertips brushing over plush, pink lips as if it would help REIN in what she just said. but it was in the air now - hanging in much the way cigar smoke does. heavy, thick, intrusive.

     arthur blinks once, twice, shifting in his seat on the third. he had an inkling about how hope might've felt about this whole thing - he ain't like dutch, but arthur's come to know miss hope baxter a little by now. knows when she's being truthful & when she's trying to spare his feelings. when she's genuine or teasing.

     ❝ so you don't wanna marry this guy, ❞ arthur says bluntly. reinforcing what she just admitted by mistake. not allowing it to be shuffled under the rug in a way hope will want to do.

     he spins the whiskey in his glass, mouth tight & jaw set. a small temptation rises in arthur's gut to point out that, CONTRARY to her question about doing anything else with his life, he ain't the one being pushed into a marriage. he had the freedom to marry for love, if love ever found him.

            ( it did. long ago. & it was these same damn expectations that kept her from him. )

     arthur lets out a long, IMPATIENT sigh. ❝ if you don't wanna get married, then don't ! what - daddy won't be happy ? seems to me you should put 'urself first. ❞

❝  --  no  !  ❞  hope  lets  out  a  small  half-hearted  laugh  compulsively  ,  to  match  his  energy  more  than  anything  else  .  she  continues  ,  ❝  i  mean  ,  not  unless  you  wanted  to  be  somethin'  𝒇𝒂𝒏𝒄𝒚  .  ❞  she  tilts  her  head  to  the  side  in  evaluation  of  his  reaction  ,  brows  furrowing  together  .  it  surprises  her  how  quickly  he  dismisses  the  idea  that  he  might  ever  have  been  anything  else  in  life  .  he's  smart  ,  much  smarter  than  he  gives  himself  any  credit  for  anyway  .  he's  got  plenty  of  skills  applicable  to  careers  outside  of  gunslinging  &  playing  muscle  for  the  van  der  linde  gang  .  she's  seen  it  .  .  .  but  he  really  doesn't  ,  does  he  ?  that  thought  weighs  down  her  sweet  smile  -  noticeably  drooping  into  a  pout  .

as  he  surveys  the  room  ,  hope  takes  the  opportunity  to  briefly  study  his  features  -  she  notes  his  scars  ,  the  lines  around  his  eyes  ,  their  color  .  she  wonders  what  those  eyes  have  seen  ;  she  wonders  how  they  see  𝑯𝑬𝑹  .

as  arthur  refocuses  ,  leaning  in  that  little  bit  closer  ,  she  draws  in  a  quick  sharp  breath  -  gaze  flickering  toward  his  lips  for  a  single  beat  .  while  she  tries  to  keep  her  expression  neutral  ,  kicking  herself  internally  for  being  so  easily  𝒇𝒍𝒖𝒔𝒕𝒆𝒓𝒆𝒅  -  she  can't  hide  the  flush  that  blooms  across  her  freckles  like  wildflowers  .

her  attention  successfully  captured  ,  she  listens  to  what  he  says  intently  -  heart  dropping  to  &  shattering  on  the  filthy  floor  .  it  takes  her  a  moment  to  process  it  all  ,  first  the  briefly  flippant  description  of  his  parents  ,  then  .  .  .  'even  worse  man  than  me  .  .  .'  that  admission  alone  floors  her  into  momentary  silence  ,  a  rarity  for  her  &  an  𝑰𝑴𝑷𝑹𝑬𝑺𝑺𝑰𝑽𝑬  feat  on  arthur's  part.

before  she  can  come  up  with  something  𝒂𝒑𝒑𝒓𝒐𝒑𝒓𝒊𝒂𝒕𝒆𝒍𝒚  apologetic  to  say  ,  he  has  already  moved  onto  his  question  -  further  throwing  her  off  .

❝  i  .  .  .  me  ?  ❞  she  blinks  up  at  him  ,  still  recalibrating  from  the  sheer  mental  whiplash  .  her  sufficiently  inebriated  mind  struggling  to  keep  up  .  ❝  uh  .  .  .  hm  ,❞  she  scrambles  blindly  for  something  ,  𝑨𝑵𝒀𝑻𝑯𝑰𝑵𝑮  to  say -  &  so  the  truth  spills  out with an incredulous giggle .  ❝  well  i  wouldn't  be  getting  married  ,  that's  for  sure  .  .  .  ❞  the  moment  she  hears  herself  azure  eyes  blow  wide  ,  lips  flatting  into  a  thin  line  ,  fingers  pressing  loosely  to  her  lips  in  shock  .

❝  -  i  don't  know  why  i  said  that  ,  ❞  maybe  the  drinks  were  a  𝒃𝒂𝒅  𝒊𝒅𝒆𝒂  after  all  .  .  .

RED DEAD REDEMPTION II ᨖ

setting up camp & starting up a fire was enough to keep arthur's hands BUSY for an hour or so. before they'd been bushwhacked, arthur wanted nothing more than to settle down for the night. but now, as the sun begins to sink under the horizon, his knuckles are the same shade of red as the sky.

he rubbed at them absently as he watches the fire, his brows pulled tight together in thought. ms hope baxter had wanted to treat his wounds after arthur scared off the last of the bounty hunters. & arthur was THANKFUL when she allowed the matter to drop after he resisted.

it seemed she was protecting his pride as tightly as his life.

in true form, arthur hadn't thought of much to say before he ended up in front of her. his hands hang by his sides - their dull THROB helps ground his focus. pain always seemed to do that.

❝ that's precisely what i wanted to discuss, ❞ he replies in a stern, GRUFF tone. arthur shifts his weight, darting his eyes, pulling his face into a grimace despite the light swelling around his eye. ❝ i wanted to apologize. for puttin' you in that sort of position. i'm s'posed to be protecting you - not the other way around. ❞

if dutch had been here, he'd surely be tearing arthur a new one. scolding him for having been so distracted on a job. but the fatherly reprimand would've morphed into teasing. because dutch has always been real good at reading people, and he'd sniff out the CAUSE of his distraction like a bloodhound.

❛ my, arthur, here i was believing you were above such earthly desires. didn't think you had it in you, son. ❜

his ears BURN just thinking of it.

𝒑𝒓𝒐𝒎𝒑𝒕𝒔 𝒇𝒐𝒓 𝒑𝒆𝒐𝒑𝒍𝒆 𝒘𝒉𝒐 𝒂𝒓𝒆𝒏'𝒕 𝒖𝒔𝒆𝒅 𝒕𝒐 𝒌𝒊𝒏𝒅𝒏𝒆𝒔𝒔 ( accepting ! )

@quastari said : ❝ i . . . should probably thank you for that . ❞ ( from arthur )

the sun lies low on the horizon , shadows growing long in the golden light . they had set up camp for the night close to a stream , & hope took the opportunity to clean some of her more road-worn garments . she's quite 𝒐𝒄𝒄𝒖𝒑𝒊𝒆𝒅 by the soothing sound of rushing water , the current dragging at her fingertips , & the refreshing chill of fresh evening air . so much so , she doesn't properly register arthur's approach until he speaks up . she sets down her last blouse to dry , turning to look up at the man from where she kneels .

❝ for . . . ? oh , that . ❞ echoes of the struggle from hours prior still ring inside her head , another reason she'd needed to take some time alone with her thoughts & prayers . lord have mercy on her , she hadn't had a choice - & even if she did , she doesn't regret the one she made . hope is not even sure she had time to fully process what was happening , only that if she did 𝑵𝑶𝑻𝑯𝑰𝑵𝑮 arthur probably wouldn't have made it out of that scrap alive . . . so , she pulled the trigger . only hit the bastard in his shoulder , but it had been enough to turn the tables in their favor .

❝ think nothin' of it , y'would've done the same for me , ❞ she offers him a tight-lipped smile & a nod , as if to indicate nothing more needed to be said about it . from what she's gathered thus far traveling alongside arthur morgan , he probably had to work up to voicing his thanks . she doesn't want to push her luck or scare him off - but she does feel a warmth bubbling up in her chest , like . . . 𝒑𝒓𝒊𝒅𝒆 ? she's happy to have done something right , to have helped . to be more than a burden to him on this journey .

lips tug into a full grin now , playfulness taking over her previously somber tone , ❝ besides , seeing the look on your face when y'realized who fired was absolutely 𝐏𝐑𝐈𝐂𝐄𝐋𝐄𝐒𝐒 . ❞

kaidan alenko tag drop.