#unwest

(This is not meant as a call-out post;  just as a clarification and to show the situation is not as black and white as it seems,  and to be as transparent as possible.  I will be tagging people,  but will remove their tags upon request.)

“ i’ll feel better in the morning . “

        porcelain features 𝘤𝘰𝘯𝘵𝘰𝘳𝘵 into those of concern and worry . a kind of 𝐠𝐞𝐧𝐭𝐥𝐞𝐧𝐞𝐬𝐬 in her eyes . unsure if a night’s sleep will be enough to shake whatever has come over the young outlaw so suddenly . auburn brows lift , and a faint breath parts her rouge lips at last . “ —— well , i sure hope ye do . ya look 𝐝𝐞𝐚𝐭𝐡𝐥𝐲 pale , john . ”

       𝚃𝙷𝙸𝚂   𝚆𝙴𝚁𝙴   𝙽𝙾𝚃   𝙰   𝙿𝙻𝙰𝙲𝙴   𝚃𝙾   𝚁𝙰𝙸𝚂𝙴   𝙵𝙰𝙼𝙸𝙻𝚈   𝙼𝙴𝙽   𝙾𝚁   𝚁𝙾𝙼𝙰𝙽𝚃𝙸𝙲𝚂   ——   but   trigger-happy   desperados   instead.   greed   was   cultivated   by   man’s   undying   desire   to   be    evermore   free,   in   which   freedom   was   only   an   illusion.   molly   had   witnessed   the   inferno   in   her   lover’s   eyes   grow   ever   higher   &   hotter,   but   the   blaze   that   once   lived   on   in   his   heart   was   near   extinguished.   his   tireless   soldiers,   too,   would  surely   follow   in   his   eminent   footsteps.   already   there   lingered   coldness   between   brothers,   sons   &   beyond.   even   in   the   very   peak   of   the   southern   summertime,   it felt   as   though   there   were   a   surly   winter   blowing   within   the   thin   &   peeling   walls   of   shady   belle. 

*: ･ﾟ✧   red dead redemption 2 ( part 4.) starters

Irritation flashed in Kieran’s eyes as the question was asked. Usually, he’d hide any sign of anger around the members that he didn’t feel at least somewhat safe around (so, the only people he’d possibly vent his frustrations to were Arthur and Mary-Beth), but… well, he was fed up today. 

“Where am I supposed t’ go?” he hissed, narrowing green eyes. “Colm O’Driscoll will kill me. An-and it won’t be somethin’ quick like a bullet t’ the head. No, he’d probably torture me way worse than you folks before choppin’ off my head or somethin’.”

& !!!!!!

His callouses catch in the creases of her scar as he reaches out for her, his thumb dragging down the length of her cheek and resting gently beneath the corner of her jawbone. He’d warned her beforehand, but she still shudders, belly tightening into knots. They’re both silent, crickets singing in the tall grass around them as the stars shine down on them. Slim fingers breach the expanse between them, pale flesh nearly glowing in the void of darkness before her fingertips meet his flesh, fluttering along the bridge of his nose and down his cheek before stopping at the edge of his jawline. Her other hand reaches upward, thumb dragging down across his mouth before coming to rest on the just of his chin. 

“Almost like looking in a mirror, huh Marston?” His legs are crossed at the ankle, knees pulled up to loosely against his torso. Digging one boot into the side of one of his, she nudges his legs apart gently, settling into the spot between them and leaning against one of his legs. She doesn’t lift her hands from his face, however, her thumb rubbing idly at the stubble on his chin. Sometimes when she and John and Arthur sit together one of them will dig their chin into her bare shoulder, the two of them delighting in how she shrieks at the feeling of their stubble on her skin. The 𝐒𝐡𝐞 𝐖𝐢𝐭𝐜𝐡𝐞𝐫 can’t help but smile, scooting closer and closer as he draws her further into his orbit. Damnit, Ciri. She knows how it goes, with men like John Marston. She’s buried enough of them that she fears eventually they’ll all start to look the same to her. For now though, Ciri can’t be bothered to think of them. He rumbles something from deep in his chest and she laughs, loud and bright like the stars, head tossed back as starlight spills down her shoulders. “I adore you, John Marston.”

      ❝ Jesus Christ, what happened to you? ❞