#cunty arthur is cunty

[redwritr]

WIP ...day

i was tagged ages ago by @cassietrn (thank you!), and since I know they're constantly working on things, here's a no-expiration tag back for @cassietrn as well as @shootybangbang, @twola, @reddeaddufus, @cheesewedge, @readingcoco and @revolversandlace

here's a tease of a future sidesmut (excerpt is sfw)💗

Lilacs in May

The two of you stand side by side at the front desk in the lobby of The Acadian Hotel, so weary from the road and the heat of the day, you feel as if you’re swaying in place. Wan-faced. Drained. Mud-caked. Bloody.

The clerk clears his throat. “I should mention that our rates are considerable.”

“That don’t matter, partner.” For having been dragged fifty feet or so by his horse, Arthur sounds almost conversational. Affable. Patient for a short while longer.

“Our rooms start at ten dollars, sir.”

“What dyou got for twenty?”

The clerk purses his lips, and his eyebrows push up before he can calm them to a more professionally neutral angle, and clears his throat again. “For twenty you could have room twelve, the Queen Vict-”

“Sounds good, partner.”

“Payment up front, of course, is…customary.”

Arthur unfolds two soggy bills from a thick clip, completely unaware of the attention around him immediately drawn to such voluminous wealth, and wipes away some mud to check the denomination. “I assume you take foldin money.” They fall with a flop on the leather desk top.

“…Yes.” The clerk lifts them with a pinch. “Yes sir.”

Behind the clerk, an ornate key rack hangs mostly empty, but for the one marked No. 12, and as the clerk turns to unhook it, his tone changes as if he’s remembered his duty, and he turns back around with a refreshed smile. “…Might I sugge- mention our spacious, state of the art private bathrooms, equipped with modern shower enclosures, nickel-plated, imported from Europe.”

“Europe you say.”

“England.”

“English showers, sweetheart, you hear that? Sounds perfect.” 

“Finest cure for skin and lung ailments.”

He’s leaning on the desk now as he nudges your arm. You stand there lifting one grime-caked boot, clumps of half-dried mud falling off your trousers on the fancy patterned rug in soft thuds. Gray streaks coat the insides of your trouser legs, dried lather from your horse, and it reeks like a stockyard; even you are repulsed by it and unsure why you have to be waiting here so goddamn long. You notice two ladies across the room not very discreetly fanning the air in front of their faces.

“We have recently had a brand-new boiler installed. Enough to supply hot water to all twelve private baths. We may be on edge of civilization, but no man shall have a cold shower in The Acadi-”

“You got any soap?”

The clerk is silent for a long fluttering blink. “You’ll find an assortment of finest quality soaps and bath oils in the suite.”  

Momentarily, his nervous glance veers left, to the adjacent dining room and its tuxedoed staff lighting tall candles in the center of white-clothed tables, and planting crystal glasses by the plates as delicately as seedlings. “Will you be needing a dinner reservation?” He seems to shrink in his suit, facing the man in front of him again and the prospect of enforcing a dress code.

“Have it brought up.” 

With a noticeable sigh, the clerk glances down as another ten dollar bill is tossed in front of him. Arthur plucks the key from his hand and takes yours, as sticky and grimy as the soles of your boots, and pulls you up the wide, carpeted staircase. He touches his brim at a couple of ladies coming down, who freeze together in a cowering gawk, pressed against the opposite railing.

As soon as the door is closed, he falls in his full kit, two guns, bandolier, and his 10-inch Bowie knife, into a tufted chair in the nearest corner and hangs his arms off the sides and rests his neck loose on the back of the chair.

You trudge two steps past him before you lower, aching, to your knees, and your hands, and your stomach, and your face on the rug, and lie there flat, unexpectedly aware of how fragrant a rug can smell.

“Do rich people perfume their floors?”

“Probably.”

Behind you, the heavy dulled weight of his bandolier clacks on the floorboards, next his gunbelt, then you hear him wince and get down to his knees off the chair and feel him crawl stiffly overtop you until he hovers very close and leans down.

“You just gonna sleep there then?” He delicately nips the edge of your ear.

“Maybe,” you mumble, face mashed into the velvety pile. “Why.”

“I was told there's an English shower over there I'd like to show you."

“What's English about it.”

He's carving his hand under your stomach and fidgeting unsuccessfully with the buckle of your gunbelt while you do nothing to help him.

“I got a few ideas.”

“Why would anyone want to stand up to bathe?”

“Why would you stand up at all. Lazy…” he mutters, trying to jimmy your buckle up to the side as you make yourself even more limp over his hand.

“I was busy working while you had to get yourself dragged off down the road.” Your voice shakes as he lightly jerks your belt and finally pulls it off like he's just pried open a safe.

“If I recall, I was busy gettin dragged while you was bein a show-off.” He crushes you with his full weight before getting up with a heavy smack on your ass.

He explores the room; you hear drawers opening, lamps switching on and off, and then the heavy thud of one boot falling to the floor, and the other, and the sound of him walking into the next room.

There's a light knock on the door like a tremor, and Arthur steps over you to answer, accepts what was brought, and shuts the door while the man is still thanking him for, as far as you can tell, being a guest of the hotel, his tone really more of a question.

You’re half asleep on that plush and fragrant rug when he starts enticing you to your feet one small nudge of his toes in your ribs at a time. A sharp pop of a cork hardly stirs you from the strong magnetic pull of your nap.

And you’re about to ask what got into him, but you know.

[molotovgrifter]

this made me feel ill. chapter 2 vs chapter 6.

[papaue00]

how many people know that in this scene, arthur is actually grinning with barely concealed excitement under the mask?

(mask removed with mod)

[wren-125]

WHY IS ARTHUR STANDING SO ZESTY 😭

[rnmidnm]

it's a good thing that Merlin is a sorcerer and not a knight. Because that man in the armor??

man, he was wearing it for like two episodes, and damn he served CUNT every second of it.

people who have pictures of cunty Merlin don't gatekeep, allow us all to behold it.

[arthursfuckinghat]

Thinking about Abigail crying and begging John not to go after Micah, Charles questioning if revenge is what Arthur would have really wanted for them, Sadie second guessing if going after bounties is the right thing for John because of how much he has at stake, John still making it rain bullets on Micah even after Dutch had shot him first.

Did the revenge really make John feel better, after putting everything he'd worked for on the line? Does he know deep down that it wasn't what Arthur would have wanted? I think about it a lot

[izel-scribbles]

@donnovien so like. i drew a thing

walking in my shoes is Literally about him

[penisbutterjellytime]

[rdr2gifs]

❄️

[artifactseeker-myr99]

I’m on my nth re-listen of Malevolent but I want to say:

As much as I wanted that fucker dead the first time around,

Harlan Guthrie really put his whole cunt into Kayne’s first appearance

My previous “I want that fucker dead” post, but beware spoilers

[justpronouncedkiiddo]

thank you @bakurapika for giving me a vision

[papaue00]

outlaw boah for Morgan Monday

[andr0nap-wf]

trying to explain parts of warframe lore and how that ties into my drifter and arthur doomed yaoi ship to my friends that dont know anything about warframe feels like this

[teeheefatty]

I haven’t drawn anything today BUT

I DO HAVE some of bold glamour Arthur Morgan

I may or may not have more of these…but I won’t tell 🤫

[mnzbrg]

still so mad there's no 361782-part guy ritchie arthurian saga. legend of the sword was so fun im still rewatching it regularly i dont get why ppl didnt like it when it came out

[mortiflyer]

cazaux has cornrows or something i take back every good thing i ever said about him