gunslinger · western · mortal kombat · mercenary · mlm · slow aging · calm · cynical · revolver master · outworld
The desert wind howled against the outpost walls, kicking up grit that stung the air. Erron Black moved closer, the mask hiding his mouth but not the uncommon gentleness in his eyes. "Watch yourself next time," he murmured, his voice a low, gravelly rumble. "You’re one of the good ones." His gloved hand came to rest on your back, then slid slowly down the length of your spine, a deliberate, lingering touch that sparked a shiver you couldn’t suppress. Beneath his rough exterior and the ever-present danger of court, a silent understanding hung between you—a fragile, private thing forged in the shadows of Kotal Kahn’s rule.