inciexec
inactive (inciexec)
Leonardo - Jeremy - Incendium // 19, any prns + sun/sunflower neos, except she/her // art blog mostly // proship DNI
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Replica - kathaynesart
Kendratello Childhood AU - zeawesomeness
August’s AU - star-sparkler
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VOTE JESUS HE ALREADY DIES THIS WEEK LET HIM HAVE IT
Jesus Christ art by @wolfythewitch
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having rdr2 brainrot. have john marston doodles (and arthur)
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Nooo arthur morgan don’t metaphorically, symbolically and unknowingly cause your own downfall noooo….
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Literally dutch if you stare at him for too long in camp:
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I'm at that part of chapter three my friends, so let me be a reminder that Colm O'Driscoll's plan to lure in Dutch after taking Arthur failed because nobody came looking for him.
He would have died being held captive any longer, he barely escaped.
The gang did not come for Arthur.
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rip arthur morgan, you would have loved animal crossing
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Sean makes me so sad, especially because he's really characterized by fans as being just silly and stupid, but if you just watch him for a bit you get so much more. The way he's treated by the gang really makes me think that they are not as much of a family as some believe. The gang is just as influenced by the time period as anyone else. The men are given noticably less care, they're expected to act a certain way and there is noticable pushback when they do not. Arthur and Sean are both kidnapped and tortured and the pain they experienced is never mentioned again. Sean is put right back to work and chastised when he tries to get a moments rest.
I think him and Karen as a couple are super underrated too, they've both cornered themselves into a stereotype/niche in the gang, and really can't find a way out of that. Karen is tough, Sean is supposed to be happy to lucky. They both have issues with drinking and neither receive much emotional support by the people around them.
Sean has been through so much. Note that he grew up barely forty years after the famine that killed millions of Irish people. He grew up poor, under the brutal systems of British colonialism. His father fought against that and when he tried to flee, he was murdered in his own bed (likely with his son either in the same room or adjacent room). I think we need more collective appreciation for the funky little guy, he's a lot more than a silly younger sibling figure.
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"Here With Me" ||
Arthur Morgan x GN!Reader
Rating: None
Asked by @photo1030
Ok, I gotcha….what about the first time someone tells Arthur they love him? Could be reader, m or f, or an existing character?
Oh I like this idea a lot and think it’s such a bittersweet feeling for Arthur, I won’t get into the meat of it, but you know how he feels about people calling him ‘a good man’, or just how Mary ended up treating him before she left. This man deserves the world, okay?
*
It had been an age since he heard those words, never had he thought he would actually ever hear them uttered to him, nor did he think he'd ever find the courage to mutter them aloud again to any living soul. He found himself undeserving of any kind words, living the life he had, he knew there'd be a mark upon his soul, and anyone foolish enough to accept him as he was, well they were just that: foolish.
But there you were, admiring him from afar for so long that it almost felt like a fever dream when you two met. He'd brushed anything off at first, just thinking that whatever the weird spark he felt was just in his head, he always ignored those gut feelings because he felt that they didn't deserve to be had. But slowly, those large thick walls were chiseled away one by one over time.
When you had decided to tell him how you finally felt, he wasn't sure what to do, he sat there unblinking, staring directly at you. What was he thinking? Why was he just… sitting there? You knew he wasn't one to delve into his feelings so openly, but your admitted confession had meant a lot to you, so your leg bounced up and down due to your nerves. You knew Arthur well enough that if you rushed him or made him feel like he needed to supply an answer right away, it wouldn't work out so well for either of you, but that didn’t stop you from assuming the worst.
As you sat there and allowed Arthur to think your confession through, you sat back and thought of all the ways he'd changed your life and the way you saw things, but most importantly, he always looked out for you, even when he felt that he shouldn't have gotten you involved in his life to begin with. Boldly, you reached across the wooden table that sat in the camp, the smell of fire and booze hung heavily around you, the lingering gang members that were awake were too drunk or tired to pay you two any mind. Your hand was placed on his, you didn't need to exchange words, you felt that he understood how you felt and why, well, you hoped he understood.
Arthur was good at thinking of others, though he wouldn't care to admit it, always thinking of what was best for you, but never what was best for himself or you both. He was a stubborn man, but it was one of the many reasons you did love him.
His silence wasn't odd, you preferred that he sat back to think things through rather than immediate dismissal, it meant that he was considering your words more than anyone could realize. But you loved to hear him speak, that gruff voice that you could never get enough of, and he graced you with the sound of it.
“You uh, you sure you'd wanna love a man like me? You know what that means, don'tcha?” He asked you, his eyes stared at you beneath the brim of his hat. The light from the fire illuminated half of his face and he looked so beautiful, like a painting that was created with love and carefulness with each stroke.
You just nod in response to his question as you sit across from him, a small smile across your face. “I do, yeah,” you say with a small breath of laughter. “I wouldn't say it carelessly, Arthur. Loving you with all of the ups and downs it comes with is something I'm willing to live with.”
Arthur listened to you once again, his jaw slightly clenched as he held back what he truly wanted to say, which would only be dismissing himself, and you smiled at his ability to bite his tongue.
You couldn't help but chuckle at how his face contorted with so many emotions at once, and he just looked up at you with a hard stare, but it softened as soon as he locked eyes with you.
“No matter what I say, you ain't gonna listen to reason, are you?” He asked you, his tone more gentle this time.
You shook your head. “Nope. I've made up my mind. As grim as it seems, this world doesn't promise us anything, so why not take what time you have and enjoy it? You deserve it, Arthur.” Your grasp on his hand tightened, showing him you weren't going anywhere, he was stuck with you.
The gunslinger swallowed, how mouth suddenly dried as he nodded to your words. “It's… been a while since I heard ‘em, figured I never would again. But… it's nice to hear ‘em, ‘specially comin’ from you.” Arthur offered a smile as he continued to look at you beneath his hat, not wanting to give away just how happy you'd made him. Not yet.
“I love you, that's all you need to know,” you assured the man, “you don't have to do things alone, you never had to, okay? Let me share your burdens with you, and if you don't wanna say it back yet, that's okay. I ain't going anywhere.”
Arthur just nodded again, the smile widened, stretching his lips. “‘Course you ain't, wouldn't let you if you tried,” he said with a chuckle that followed.
For now, those were the only words you needed to hear from him, you knew that with time and patience, that man who was so closed off to the world would allow you a glimpse of his heart.
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there's a lot of discussion and speculation about the fact john doesn't speak of arthur in rdr1. logistically it's not hard to understand that rdr1 just came out years before rdr2 and thats why but . But.
but when you think of rdr1 with the additional context two, there is something quite... in line with john trying to forget arthur. wanting to. or burying him. not just in metaphor or in soil but in his memories and in some way failing to do it but in another succeeding
you think of john and his commitment to his son and wife and you think of his willingness to do anything for them. moral or not. righteous or not. and you think of the fact that john didn't know at the time the sort of man arthur believed him to be, but he perhaps modeled himself in the image of his older brother. near incidental. he has so little in common with arthur really. john's broody and lacking remorse and at twenty-six he's inconsiderate entirely in a way arthur never was.
but time is a thief and one day, he turns 38. he's older than arthur when he dies. and john doesn't remember well what he looks like, and all he can feel when he thinks of arthur is grief. grief that never ends. thats the thing about all of it, you'll realize - is that john knows arthur best in the retroactive.
the sort of complicated, odd man arthur was revealed to him in the creases of pages and keepsakes. in the carving of his guns that john finds after arthur is gone. in the ring of the woman arthur loved long ago. in the confessionals to his son isaac and the regret in the letters he wrote to their psuedo father. you realize john knows more of arthurs stagnant ghost that can't guide john into manhood the way he so desperately needs. and it's all he has to go by to make a man of himself.
john never finds out what kind of man arthur believed him to be and he has to infer the real good man arthur was. in grief there is love. john loved arthur enough to want to be like him. and in burying the living, breathing man arthur was he's forced to cling to his spirit. has to piece together the kindness of his older brother through memories and diary entries and secondhand stories. and that's how he models himself in rdr1 to me. where arthur is moral john becomes dutiful and where arthur is kind, john is helpful. he becomes the shadow of arthurs best qualities. he can never be arthur. no one could ever be arthur, even if arthur had given them the page by page instructions of how to do so. this is all he has. all he knows. all he can do.
john misses his brother. so he tries to embody him. but he can't really in the same way he can't grieve him. so he makes a home for arthurs ghost to return to in himself. john never mentions arthur because it dregs up painful what-ifs, but they share so many mannerisms and bastardized qualities. john has fashioned himself based on those loose memories.
one day, a stranger meets john and says. "why would you remember me, friend? you've forgotten far more important people than me" and john will remember all the ghosts he's ever loved briefly. there will be a blurry face and a forgiving voice and it will sound like a memory and it will linger in johns ribcage like a moth. and john won't remember. he won't. he can't. he buried his brother without ever doing it.
john says a lot of things. feels a lot of things. he shoots his gun to the stranger who calls his memory into question and the thing jams and the bastard roams free. john will taste blood in his mouth. he'll feel a cough in his lungs and well, he won't remember his brother still. buried men must stay buried.
of course. of course john never mentions arthur. he can't remember him, even though he's inherited so much of his manner. to speak it of him would be admitting to his existence. its admitting: i miss you. im sorry. it was my fault.
of course john never mentions arthur. he's made all this effort in forgetting him that even when his body and his gesture and his character betray the fact he's forgotten - his mind will soothe the pain and blur out his face.
and instead of remembering in life even once, he'll die the same way arthur did. alone. protective. contented. redeemed. john loves arthur like most brothers do - with muscle memory.
even if john cuts the necrosis of arthurs memory off of him, his body will twitch at the phantom feeling of his existence. john remembers even when he can't. arthur his only brother. the most important man he's ever forgotten.
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i appreciate the imagery of sleeping with a weapon under your pillow but with my sleeping habits that thing is going to need a seatbelt to stay put where i left it
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I'm a cryptid in Stardew valley. I live on the outskirts of town. I disappear for days on end, purchasing daily one-way tickets to the calico desert. Nobody knows where I go while I'm there. Can occasionally be found fishing at random spots throughout town. I am never not running on at least one triple shot espresso. I take the abandoned minecarts to get around and am frequently seen disappearing into the sewers. I carry a sword for some reason. Once every week or two I will stride into your bedroom to deliver you your favorite meal. I'm a self-made millionaire. I attend all the town events and will go to your concert in the next town over. I have donated approximately 2583 items to the local museum and singlehandedly revitalized the town community center. There are rumors I can talk to junimos. I'm friends with the local wizard
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