Many veterans feel guilty because they lived while others died. Some feel ashamed because they didn’t bring all their men home and wonder what they could have done differently to save them. When they get home they wonder if there’s something wrong with them.
He nods once as Draco speaks. He wasn’t fond of crowded places himself, so he understood on a small level how he felt. “Best ta wait for yer dad in his office then, yeah? Ain’t crowded down that area, far as I know anyway.” There wasn’t much of a reason for him to wander down that side of the Ministry. Unless he was asked to speak to one of the governors.
Turning his head to look at him, he saw how he had barely lifted his head. He almost reminded him of one of his nephews. Almost.
“C’mon. No use sittin’ ‘ere if ya ain’t big on crowds or loud places.”
“ Usually I just wait for him to come back. “
He sits up a little bit more now that he’s not alone, shifting how he’s settled entirely so his legs are crossed rather than tucked up protectively. He has to think actually on if his father had a legitimate job here, pinching his brows together and pursing his lips.
“ I don’t know if he has an office… “
“He ain’t goin’ ta find ya HERE. ‘specially with the crowd.” he hated how crowded the Ministry got. He wasn’t claustraphobic, he just hated socializing with the MAJORITY of people in the building. After a second, Arthur stood, adjusting his jacket before he turned to look down at the kid.
“If he doesn’t, best just ta go back ta the place where ya LAST saw him.” He held his hand out to help the boy up. Given he had nothing to be doing work wise, he figured it best to help the young Malfoy, even if he wasn’t FOND of his father.
UNINVITED, Oswald stepped into the bad that seemed to be exclusive; certainly someone like him had no reason to be there. The tables were full, SMOKE from the cigarettes covering the air. Going deeper into the place, he avoided as much attention as he could, ignoring the hateful comments from people around him.
Oswald looked around, only a couple were still looking at him, wondering and whispering between each other what HE was going there. Oswald’s attention turned to the other man.
“ Excuse me, Sir?… A-are you… Arthur? ”
Smoke seeped out from the corners of his mouth as his gaze flickered up to meet the man that addressed him. Cigarette lowered to the ashtray in front of him as he leant back. It didn’t take a genius to figure out who the other man was. The limp told him enough. That left the question, what was the Penguin doing looking for him.
“Mr. Cobblepott, this ain’t a place I’d figure to see ya enter, willin’ly by the looks of it, ey?” He replied, tapping the end of his cigarette before he raised it back to his lips. “Most hire me over the phone, saves all this hassle.”
He wanted to scream. To snap at his brother that he still had his sanity. That he was lucky he never had violent outbursts like he did. While he did feel happy about being a father, the greatest joy of his life would be to have control. A guaranatee he wouldn’t slip and hurt his wife or any member of his family. “Sanity over take’s bein’ a father. Ya don’t know what it’s like ta lose control, Tom. Ya have a grip on everythin’.”
in a moment of RAGE , tommy’s hands slam against the bars in front of arthur and he seethes. ❛ i DON’T have a grip on anythin’ arthur! the government’s got their BOOT on my neck and i have had to tear my family APART to save all of us! ❜ he takes a deep breath , pacing back and forth in front of the cell before he stops and shoves his hands in his pockets. ❛ you’re stronger than you know , arthur. look how you’ve been. how you didn’t beat the livin’ ‘ell out of alfie. ❜
He couldn’t help but jump when Tommy’s hands connected with the bars. His gaze remained down, head ducked, like a wounded dog. “S’a family business for a reason, Tom. Ya try do everythin’ yerself and don’t let us help ya anymore. Whatever happens now, s’all on ya. If I get out’a here, I ain’t stickin’ ‘round ta find out.”
Blue eyes clouded with shame and guilt remained fixated on the ground beneath him. Back pressed against the wall with his head ducked, he thought of how nothing seemed to ever go his way. So far, all he did was fuck things up. Right now, if he was asked to describe his role in the family, he’d only one word. Disappointment. No one told him that, but he knew he was.
When he heard footsteps echo off the walls, he closed his eyes tight, praying to whoever was listening that they’d go away and not notice the snapped rope beside the over turned stool. As well as being unable to run the family business, it seemed as though he was unable to even kill himself right. The footsteps stopped near him, and he couldn’t bring himself to look and see who it was.
Weakness was something he hated. Having someone see him in one of his weakest moments would do nothing to help him.
Shaking his head, he answered honestly. These days he saw no point in lying, unless the other seemed shifty, in that case he lied his arse off to get as far away from them as he could. “Nah, been alone for weeks.” She dodged his question. Something that only made him wary of her. Just from the way she eyed him, he knew her gaze was laced with distrust. It was a look he used quite often himself. “Ya goin’ ta answer my fuckin’ question or not? Don’t got all bloody day.” He slowly wrapped his hand around the grip of his gun. For all he knew she could shoot him and pull a runner.
Been alone for weeks — he answered her question when she expected him not to; supposing it was the truth, it was exactly the kind of life she lead lately, ALONE, just the dead to chase after her. Brown eyes followed his movements, as his hands reached for the gun, and while she didn’t trust the stranger yet, Fran had no intention to make the situation worse than it already was. « I’m alone — you’re the first one I’ve met in weeks. First one who’s STILL BREATHING, at least. » Her gaze was back on him once again, but every muscle in her body was ready to act, ready to RUN if needed. « What’s your name? »
“Arthur. Arthur Shelby.” What use was giving a fake name in a world like this? No one knew who he was in America. Perhaps if they were in Birmingham, someone might have a rough idea, but he hadn’t been in America for longer than 6 months. “My turn, who the fuck are ya?” Killing her was something he hoped to avoid. It was never fun killing a living person, even if they were trying to kill him.
‘ —— it’s FINE. just leave it. ‘ he refused the BANDAGE with a little wave of his hand. if they tried to BANDAGE his wound again, it’d just turn NEGAN’S attention on them, and that’s the last thing he wanted. he reached up, brushing hair from behind his ear and using it to cover the wound with skittering fingers.
Raising his hands, Arthur dropped the bandage and watched the boy cover the wound with his hair. “It ain’t fine. If ya want it covered, shouldn’t let this fucker stop ya.” As much as he was intimidated by Negan, he wasn’t scared of him. If anything he just reminded him of some of the men he knew back in Birmingham.
Since the outbreak, he rarely had nightmares. He assumed it was the distraction that kept them at bay, or the lack of sleep overall. On the rare nights he did, he was usually alone. The nightmares themselves varied from his days in the military, or from some events that took place before the outbreak. The most reoccurring one he had was of the boy he had subconsciously beaten to death in a boxing ring. Whether or not he was still mentally unstable was lost on him, and had him questioning Beth’s safety with him.
Yet for now, they were all each other had. Until they found someone from the prison, or another group. The words left his lips before he could stop them. A minor slip up on his part. He could see she was tired, making him wonder how long she had been awake.
He was surprised at her reaction, but then again she probably needed a form of comfort as much as he did. Giving a small nod, he turned his gaze down, mumbling a small ‘thank ya’ under his breath.
this is a highly selective and private blog. I only interact with mutuals, any asks/likes on a starter call, from non-mutuals, will be ignored.
FORMATTING
I use double small font and 50x50 icons, I can ramble in threads so please don't feel the need to match lenght! If you need me to use bigger font, let me know! I know not everyone can see the tinyass font, so I will adjust if you need me to!
OC's
I love oc's. I wanna hug and kiss 'em all. But I can be super fucking selective with what oc's I follow. I've had a lot of bad/uncomfortable experiences with them in the past, I'd rather not have any more.
SHIPPING
I'm a ship hoe, you wanna ship? HMU, I most likely already ship it tbh. I portray Arthur as bisexual, so I will gladly ship with males. I dont autoship. Shipping must be discussed OOC.
MUN
Mun goes by Alex. Idgaf what pronouns you use, go nuts with them. I'm 19 and currently in college so I can't always be here, and I got a few other muses to look after.
B I O G R A P H Y
Arthur is more brawn than brains. During the war in France, Arthur was a Sapper with his brother Thomas, digging very treacherous tunnels in order to place enormous amount of explosives under the enemy positions: a tactic used several times in the war to devastating effect at both the Battle of Verdun and the Battle at the Somme. It is suggested he may have served at Gallipoli through his distaste for Turks and the smell of stagnant water.
He’s the eldest of the Shelby siblings and is mistaken as head of the family quite often. He has a bad habit of whoring, drinking and using drugs. After an incident involving his father, Arthur tries to hang himself, but the plan fails when the rope snaps off the hook.
He becomes more unstable as time goes on, the trauma from the war hanging over his head. His instability drives him to eventually killing a boy in the boxing ring by beating him to death.
V E R S E S
001.By Order of the Peaky Blinders Main Peaky Blinders verse, follows show canon up to season 2, then diverges for season 3, everything is pretty much the same only there’s no Linda.
