#charlesmiith

[silentknives]

It wasn’t like she didn’t come out of this unscathed either. Liquid crimson dripped down from the open wound on her lip, and bruises were sprinkled across her face and exposed arms. She knew exactly who the Skinner Brothers were and why they targeted her. They were STUPID for taking this so personally. All she did was turn in one of their people, as any other bounty hunter would. 

Apparently, she underestimated just how ruthless they could be. Had it not been for this man intervening -- bulldozing these men off their feet -- who knew if she would’ve made it out alive ? Regardless, she’d be pissed to her grave. And now that she’s still alive and breathing, it’s become PERSONAL.

" ...Name’s Emily. ” she nearly gritted her teeth ; she was pissed, but not at him. INHALE. EXHALE. That’s all it took to calm her anger, for the meantime. She wiped the blood off her chin with the back of her hand, and returned her blade back into its’ sheath.

“ Sorry for getting you into this mess. I’m usually more careful about these kinds of situations, but I suppose it’s too late for that. ” she paused, glancing at his bloodied knuckles. She felt bad. “ How about I buy you a drink as a token of my thanks ? ”

@charlesmiith​   /   continued from here.

[anotherbadman]

@charlesmiith Continued from (x)

Arthur looked up as Charles’s hand found his. Work roughened skin against the same was a heady feeling, an unexpected but welcome warmth that unsurprisingly didn’t help his nerves one bit. 

His heart was in his throat. He hoped their joined hands meant Charles had caught his meaning. It seemed hard to misread the flush of his skin and the intensity in his words, but no matter how sure he was there would always be that lingering doubt.

Despite it all, when Charles withdrew Arthur’s hand followed with purpose. Pressed palm to palm like this it felt more intimate, his thumb running over scar-crossed skin and finally crossing the line of plausible deniability.

“You sure about that?” he asked, face severe despite the softness of his words, steeled for whatever may come. Now that intentions had finally been made clear it was a chance, the last one he’d get. Turn tail and run and they both knew this would never be spoken of again.

[pratektar]

@charlesmiith : exists

abby :

[thepeacemakcr-blog]

@charlesmiith // closed starter.

            Dark orbs had been fixed for quite a while now on the revolver that rested in his hands. The words harshly engraved on the barrel seemed to ( almost ironically ) reflect a sense of closure. Ironically, because instead of closure, recents events had only managed to stir memories and thoughts John believed long forgotten. 

            "Vengeance is hereby mine." The former gunslinger mumbled bitterly, well aware of the other man sitting across the room. The fireplace lit the space, now silent since every other occupant of the house had gone to bed hours ago. "Do you think it was wrong? ... Letting Dutch go."

[huntsrevenge-a]

@charlesmiith​ // liked.

     As they made their way down the mountain, Saren admired the picturesque scenery and how fresh the air felt in her lungs. Her and Charles had spent a few days hunting and now they were finally making their way home. In some ways, it felt like they had taken a small vacation and that added to Saren’s energized mood. 

     Charles rode slightly ahead of her to make sure the path was clear, even though there was enough room for them to ride side-by-side. Although there was a comfortable silence between them, there was something Saren had been wanting to ask him.

     “What do you remember of your mother?” she asked. Charles had spoken very little of his parents, mostly about his father and the issues that followed after his mother was kidnapped. It was something, in a way, Saren could sympathize with - having lost her own mother.

     When the topic had first arisen in conversation, Saren could see that that Charles was still in some pain over what happened. But now that they were together, she was hoping he would open up to her a little more.

[ohrthur]

Labored breaths, chest heaving. Charles was surprised his luck lasted him this long. But now, body finally caving in, he slipped from the strong grip Arthur had around his waist, crumpling to his knees with a pained, near-shout of despair. He had no doubt Arthur was soaked in his blood by now, feeling it continuously pooling between his fingers clenched around the wound at his side. “A- Arthur ... 𝘆𝗼𝘂 𝗰𝗮𝗻'𝘁 𝘀𝘁𝗼𝗽 𝗶𝘁. I’ve, had this coming for a long time. 𝙅𝙪𝙨𝙩 𝙡𝙚𝙩 𝙢𝙚 𝙜𝙤."

Death and Dying Starters  |  accepting!

heat washed down his side , the warmth of blood spilled against him .     stained threads were the least of his concerns when the slip of charles nearly dragged him down too .     arthur wouldn’t have let go , had the sanguine fluid that soaked his hands been result for losin’ his grip .quick to his knee , his elbow props ‘pon bended cap whilst his wet palms clasp the hunter’s mien .

‘     like hell i can’t , ye’ hear me .     ‘     he delivers a baritone counter , determined to prove this isn’t over for him .     charles was too good a man to deserve this kind of end .     wounds this bad have been a thing they handled in the past .     arthur may be no doctor , but he can’t imagine     (     with even the severity of his wound     )     charles could not recover from a scrape like this .     ‘     ye’ ain’t had anythin’ comin’ …     ‘     if charles couldn’t find the strength to get back up to his feet , arthur would find it to carry him .‘     i ain’t lettin’ ye’ go !     ‘     a low voice finally cracks , the idea of leaving charles behind is an unfathomable thought .     gently patting the hunter’s cheek , arthur tries to keep him alert .     his stern gaze burns with purpose , whilst charles rich umber hues glare straight back .     ‘     i … i ain’t . i need you .     ‘     a low raspy breath exhales an emotional response .     lids press shut , flittering weakly whilst arthur avoids thinking the worst .     a forehead dips in , gentle nudge pressing to support charles .     noses brush prior to the reveal of viridian hues , and arthur attempts one more time for the hunter to not give up .hand pressing to wound , it stirs another short cry of pain .     he wants not to hurt his companion , soft shushing falling from his lips whilst he grunts in struggle to assist charles to his feet again .     but they are pulled even lower , charles collapsing to his back .     charles recites arthur’s name in a quiet whisper but it is met with the outlaw’s response in panic .     ‘     no … no , no , no …     ‘a sting burns in his eyes , viridian hues now coated in a glossy haze .     his palm still fighting the flow of red seeping through the cracks .     ‘     juss’ tell me what to do !     ‘     he cries out , busying himself to tear away fabric to use as a tourniquet .     ‘     tell me what to do , charles …     ‘     his plea is meek ; followed with a gesture , wiping the perspiration from the hunter’s brow .     rich chocolate strands are brushed aside , doing anything he can to provide charles an ounce of comfort .the weight in his chest becomes so unreal , heart shattering within his ribcage .     ‘     i can’t … i can’t lose you .     ‘

[hellbentwidow-a]

CONTINUED FROM XXX // @charlesmiith

“well, it weren’t your responsibility to watch my back, Charles. i appreciate it, but if you had gotten there earlier-- it’s likely you would have been the one with a knife in his stomach,” she says with a shrug, definitely not minding her outcome since thankfully, John ended without any injuries and Charles seemed to be recovering faster than she is. then again, he’s smarter than her and his body is stronger in every possible way. she hasn’t been taking care of herself so well since Arthur’s death and maybe it’s not as obvious as she thinks it is, but she still feels a bit insecure and tense when his gaze finds its way to her covered stomach.

“ain’t the best, yet. it’s takin’ a long damn time to heal up properly. still bleeds a bit if i end up gettin’ too excited with my day, but it ain’t a big deal. jus’ me getting too ahead of myself.” it would have been better to lie to keep him from worrying further, but she has a feeling he’d be able to figure it out on his own. 

[outlawboah]

⬇️ - throwing up from a sickness or injury they have

He hadn’t gone out hunting with Charles since being stuck up in the mountains, but the camp needed some more food and he wasn’t busy with anything else at the moment. It would at least be a nice break from watching the gang break further and further apart.

It hadn’t been too long before that all too familiar ache in his chest hit,  lungs seizing up and trying to rid themselves of the damn infection irritating them. A few coughs in and he could tell this was just turning into one of those coughing fits. He pulled back on Buell’s reins to bring him to a stop, dismounting and taking a couple staggering steps as his coughing got worse enough to trigger his gag reflex, bringing up whatever little contents he actually had in his stomach.

As the coughing lightened up a bit, he slowly lowered himself to sit on the ground and just try to catch his breath between lessening coughs and wheezes. Figuring Charles probably stopped, he waved a hand dismissively without bothering to look up towards him. “I’ll.. Catch up in a minute.. Ya can keep goin’.”