#ohrthur

[chivalryshot-blog]

“ yo'ah a stranger, shovin' yo'ah words down my throat. ” he's near an angered type of drunken stupor, he heard words and those words annoyed him. arthur morgan needed to learn a limit, it were too bad he didn't bother to try. | @ohrthur

       teddy was never too fond of drunks. aggressive one’s least of all, but that was just what had found him this evening. it was unavoidable, of course, seeing as he’d made the town’s tavern his scene for the evening. and it was certainly a fine one before this guy had come along. teddy had found himself some good company seated at the bar and they were deep in swapping stories when their words were interrupted by the slurs of a rather gruff looking man. to which teddy sighed deeply. the others were quick to move away as teddy seemed to have the brute’s focus. 

       turning around, teddy’s brows furrowed taking in the sight. ❛ i’m thinking you misheard something, friend, cause we for sure weren’t talking about you. ❜ there was no tone taken with the man. a drunk was too unpredictable to provoke. ❛ now, why don’t you have a seat before you fall over on yourself? ❜

get scared songs sentence starters // @ohrthur

[charlesmiith]

shallow breaths now wheeze. coughs unable to squeeze through tightened windpipe, whilst shadows creep ‘round his vision. pain is not what drives his fear,  it is the after. the descend into darkness alone. strength waning despite how alert he is to cling desperately to comfort. fingers crawl through dirt till they find familiar terrain. he draws in a labored breath “ please… “ eyes scared to close without the hunter’s vow ” just tell me… it’s gonna be… okay. ” a faint tremble in the tone of his voice, a tear runs free from the corner of his eye. his digits embracing charles within the last moment they are able to.  |  @ohrthur

          –- “ Everything will be ok Arthur. You will not be alone. I promise. ”

     He knew he couldn’t stop it. That the inevitable REALITY was before him and could no longer be denied- but that didn’t mean Charles couldn’t do everything physically possible to make Arthur comfortable, content, at peace. 

     He nestled the man so his dirtied blond hair rested tenderly in his lap, the hunter doing his best to remain some semblance of COMPOSURE as the grip of his intertwined fingers remained STRONG. It was honestly the only strong thing about him at the current moment, a shuddering breath dragged down his lungs as the painful CLENCH at the back of his throat refused to cease. 

          –- “ You have nothing to be afraid of… it will be ok… it will be ok… ”

     A crack to his normally level and resolute voice broke through, words trailing off. Hearing the last of his wheeze rattle in his chest, the life all but faded from him, it was then- only then- Charles finally allowed himself to BREAK. Like a tidal wave, he suddenly felt the wetness roll down his cheeks, lips trembling as he leaned down, raising Arthur to cradle him…  protectively, against him. To hopefully let him pass into the next world with the warmth and comfort he could only pray he may provide.

     His original hope was to allow Arthur to pass without having the GUILT of knowing just how much his death would affect him- affect everyone, but it appeared he wasn’t strong enough. Charles wasn’t strong enough. With a shuddering gasp he choked against the wet cheek of the gunslinger’s head. Nose and lips nuzzling affectionately against his skin for the last time. His fingers reassuringly, soothingly rubbed into his arm, a VAIN attempt at this point- but done all the same in a desperate hope to allow Arthur the semblance of PEACE he deserved. 

          –- “ … I will always be with you. I will always be with you, 𝘢𝘭𝘸𝘢𝘺𝘴 𝘣𝘦 𝘸𝘪𝘵𝘩 𝘺𝘰𝘶… ”

     It was something Charles may look back on, when the time came, but oddly enough, it was almost as if life itself was mourning the loss of Arthur Morgan. The heavy clouds above opened up, the dark heavens pelting the earth in a soft, cascading waterfall. He couldn’t move, wouldn’t dare move, petrified almost to feel how STIFF Arthur may have become in his arms, but he couldn’t help it. The anguish, the despair, it engulfed him, became too great, he ultimately was forced to have a full sob WRACK his shoulders, head suddenly picked up to be thrown back-

          –- A SCREAM TEARING FROM HIS LIPS, FOREVER ECHOING INTO THE SKY ABOVE

[hellbentwidow-a]

“i was fine, Arthur. you shoulda’ let me handle this! it was my damn fight.” bold words for a woman with a bloody nose and mouth, but she’s always been stubborn.

[enturmoiled-blog]

@ohrthur​​ ( plotted. )

     light falls in patches between the quilt-work of branches stretching high overhead, sun straining against waxy leaves and their wooden appendages to drape the underbrush as water through a colander. for minutes, each fading quietly into the next, john watches a spot brighten the tip of his thumb as he grips his saddle-horn. it shivers with the breeze and doesn’t feel too warm for sunlight, but at the very least, it’s something to busy the eyes.   

   ❛ — shoulda brought somethin’ to read, ❜ john says, bored. he passes a dubious look beneath the brim of his hat to where arthur waits abreast, brow creasing gently. ❛ you sure you got the right place? ❜

[charlesmiith]

@ohrthur 

          –- “ I’m fine Arthur, it’s just a small fever. I need to stay in bed is all... ”

[charlesmiith]

@ohrthur || Continued From (x)

          –- There was an ODD sensation of being stunned that washed over the hunter as he deftly watched Arthur stand, hand suddenly HYPERAWARE of the lack of heat that slipped from his fingers. Was he serious-? After all this, and Arthur dared to try and place some makeshift wall between them, to honestly believe Charles wouldn’t see right through to Arthur’s very core while remaining blind to the indifferent front he pitifully tried to pull?

     Charles would have none of it. After the fall of the gang, the years spent separated, believing his best friend, first mate... no, no, he was more than that. Arthur was, he was... his OTHER HALF. His soulmate. And he would be a liar to say otherwise. He loved that damned fool of a man, and apparently, tonight the confession would no longer be REPRESSED between tight lips. 

     Silent as the night, body rigid as stone, he stood with purpose before a hand reached out. Arthur would not slip away. Not this time. Thick fingers curled DESPERATELY into Arthur’s shoulder, ROUGHLY turning him to face the conviction BURNING behind mahogany hues. 

          –- “ After everything you honestly plan to make me wait until dawn? You believe there’s still a chance I wouldn’t come with you? ”

     Tone incredulous- borderline GALLED, Charles would not have it, facing their fears, the denial, any and all DOUBTS as he grabbed Arthur by his broad shoulders, gaze wild. This was it- finally having the chance, confirming the words Charles spoke to him so many times were not just a casual response, but a PROMISE to the emotions kept buried for far too long.

          –- “ You ask if I would ride with you, but my answer was made years ago, and it remains the same. When I told you ‘ALWAYS’, I meant it. I will always ride with you. I will ALWAYS choose to be with you- Arthur, 

     Chin dipped, lids squeezed shut. Bated breath.               Head tilted back up in the silence, voice cracking, GLISTENING chestnut orbs                                                                                         snapping open to VERIDIAN HUES. 

                                               ... Arthur,  my home is with you, ”

      ARMS THEN SLID AROUND the BLONDE’S WAIST, TREMBLE to his VOICE, a SHAKE TO STRONG ARMS... the whirlwind of PASSION that spontaneously gripped the normally stoic man suddenly BROKE. Charles felt the unstoppable tightening of his throat. Unconsciously, fingers curled tighter into Arthur’s skin, frantic to find purchase, deftly hoping one had not crushed the other as hot breath tickled delicately along scruffed cheeks.

         –- “ Please... I don’t want to let go. Please tell me what I have to do to make you believe I’m never letting go. ”

[charlesmiith]

an unwell feeling, despite a rough cough arthur muffles into the crook of his elbow, his condition is not the cause. picking up the movement in the left of his peripheral vision, arthur's hand reaches and grasps hold of the hunter's thick forearm. ' don't go. ' he murmurs, gaze barely lifting from the blank page of his journal. there was not much charles could do to help, tea was nice but even that would not stop his cough. ' stay a lil' longer. ' only then do softened eyes smile | ohrthur

          –- “  ... I’m just trying to make sure you’re comfortable, ”

     The words were hesitant, soaked in concern, just like the man who said them. Tense muscles instantly relaxed, foregoing his original decisions to get up and get Arthur another cup of tea. He really did want the gunslinger to rest, to at least have one hour without having the need to cough his lungs out. But clearly, Charles had assumed wrong on just WHAT Arthur needed to relax.

     That smile. That damned soft smile. It was unfair really how it just turned him to putty. 

          –- “ ... But if that requires me to stay, then I’m not going anywhere. ”

     The hunter’s own voice was soft and low now. The ghost of a smile spread across his lips, where despite the circumstances, he couldn’t help mirroring Arthur’s own small bout of peaceful innocence. Silently he sat back down, gently grasping the fingers that originally had curled around his forearm. Completely careless now to personal space, shoulders deliberately pressed against one another as the hunter found his place once more alongside the blonde. Perhaps a spot of MISCHIEF could even be seen in dark hues as Arthur’s hand was flipped over to expose his palm. Charles didn’t hesitate then to have his digits begin feathering up and down the exposed skin of Arthur’s arm, tracing patterns into his hand as he hoped to carry on the small semblance of tranquility that settled between them.

[charlesmiith]

@ohrthur || SAPPY.

          –- The wind HOWLED against the windows, night settling in faster than Charles would have liked. But there was little else to expect in the winter months- especially up in the mountains, where the hunter nearly forgot how frigid the air could get.

     A shudder. Instantly Charles glanced up from drying one of the plates that had been used for dinner. The fire roared in the corner, but given the table Arthur sat at was positioned across the room, broad back facing the heat source, he wasn’t surprised a chill crept up his spine. 

     He set the plate down, boots softly thudding across the floor as he made his way over. Arthur was obviously engrossed in his journal again, Charles placing his large, warm palm on his shoulder to alert him of his presence. Nothing but softness spread across his lips, leaning down to place a tender kiss to his forehead as he glanced up. It was all nothing more than a distraction, really, as within the same moment the herculean man swung his leg over the gunslinger’s lap. Clearly, he felt right at home as he found his place atop Arthur’s thighs, playful SMIRK now dancing across his face as he leaned in for another kiss, mumbling against each other's lips as fingers cupped gruff cheeks.

          –- “ ... Cold ? You want a blanket, or just me ? ”