#fantasy western aesthetic

[descendinight]

Shades of cool - studies

[manicpumpkindreamgirl]

Deputy Sheriff Rita Reiss, quickest draw this side of someplace probably

[cyanideeeee]

Maverick my beloved

i think i'm done drawing him for a while now... now onto silas and rafflesia! :D

maverick belongs to @deadgonegirl, from their starbound fanfic "walk the line".

i never drawed a cowboy in my life, i struggled a lot with the hats and the outfits lol

ALSO also i still didn't really understand how to draw their hair, deadgonegirl if you're reading this im sorry if i fucked it up

[imaginal-ai]

"Howdy" (0003)

(More of The Howdy Series)

0002

0001

[technicallyclassyperfection]

A woman walks through her garden.

[crowdopper]

some asset design for my homebrew dnd campaign :] the plate cowboy boot is a personal fav

[newblvotg]

[makairodonx]

A Very Draconian Valentine

[ralphberner]

AI generated men: Cowboys (2)

I never considered cowboys as so attractive before.

[cosmoeclipse]

Cowboy centaur

[pluppsauthor]

534 ft. Chapter I (Part 4/4)

Prev.

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[TW: guns]

The sheriff looked at him strangely but didn’t say a word. As requested, he brought Jesse a shovel. He took it and walked just out of town. He dug a grave six feet deep and carried the body over. He left the dead man with his belongings as he buried him in the ground.

Most of the onlookers had returned to their activities after the shot rang out. A few continued to watch as Jesse buried the man. Only two remained as Jesse whispered a blessing over the man’s grave.

“Free from strife, free from life. May you find peace in the hereafter and may your bones be laid to rest, as do your spirits.”

Above the grave was a small wooden cross hammered into the ground. On it read ‘Here lies Flint Marrow, may he rest in peace’. The sheriff walked up to Jesse when his blessing was done.

“I know you were just looking out for yourself, but I wanted to give you something for your troubles.”

Jesse looked down at the man’s hands, where a small paper check was held between his fingers. On it was written a sum of 1000 Mire and signed by Sheriff Paul Inn. Jesse shook his head at the sight of it.

“Pay it to the bartender for the drink he served me, and keep the rest for your priest. I don’t need the money where I’m going.”

The sheriff shrugged.

“Suit yourself.”

Jesse turned to the sheriff.

“Do you have a chisel?”

“I might... give me a minute.”

The sheriff walked off and returned some 5 minutes later. Jesse took the chisel and carved a small line onto his gun. He handed it back to the sheriff and took out a small notebook. He wrote, ‘Flint Marrow’ with no other information. Nothing else was written in the notebook besides a list of names the sheriff did not recognise.

He made his way to the stables where his horse rested peacefully, nearly asleep. He had planned to stay here for a night, but he didn’t want to stay when there was blood on the ground. As he went to grab his horse, a complicated storm of emotions was painted across his face. But he pushed it down as he whispered something to Biscuit.

Suddenly, a wave of exhaustion swept over him. Biscuit stood up fully revitalized and full of energy. He saddled her up and rode out onto the street ready to leave. But Tim, the bartender, ran up to him on the edge of town.

“Wait, Mister! I’ve never seen someone shoot that fast before! Are you some kind of legend? Where did you come from? You gotta tell me!”

Jesse looked down at the man from atop his horse. His eyes were dead and his face hid a whirlwind of emotions.

“My name is Jesse Graves. I ain’t a legend, not even a whisper on the wind. I don’t got anywhere I came from, or anywhere to go. I ain’t a hero nor a saviour. I’m just a sinner.”

He turned away before he could see Tim’s reaction and rode off before he could hear another word. Once he was out of town, he let his emotions get the better of him and began to weep. His hands shook as he lost control of his breathing. He used all of his control not to fall off his horse as he nearly threw up.

He killed a man with his own hands. The last time was an accident, but this one had been on purpose. Even if it was in self-defence, he couldn’t help but feel the guilt begin to weigh on his mind.

‘Men don’t cry...’

‘Men don’t cry...’

But he did.

[manicpumpkindreamgirl]

My girl Wanetta (the undertaker) in a more casual look. I wish I had put her in a pose where I would have gotten to draw her squash blossom necklace

[locustsummers]

╮( ＾▽＾)╭

An exorcism; i don't even play starrail but boy howdy, this fantasy-space-western yeehawboo is doin' damage to my impulse control

[technicallyclassyperfection]

Via AI artist print:

[crowdopper]

a deeper dive into the disciples gang, a dogmatic moon worshiping gang of warrior priests

[lunalunestia]

Loyal to his comrades and ready on command, Zorro follows orders without question to fulfill his duty as a member of The Elements of Luna to protect his assigned person as a bodyguard. A man of few words until one fateful evening when he met Kristal Lunestia. His stoicism began to falter and soften to become more expressive day by day. Breaking away as the dog of the military to becoming more "human".

🐾 Basic Info 🐾

Name: Zorro

Gender: Male

Pronouns: He/Him

Age: 20

Birthday: July 5th

Mythos: Unknown

Favorite Hobby: Playing guitar

💜 Thank you to my Supporters 💜

stickpge and Łukasz Dobbek

🌸 Support me on Ko-Fi or Patreon for early access, uncropped WIPs, peeks into The Elements of Luna comic, and more! 🌸