#bounty hunter shin au

[timetodiverge]

Wake up babe, new WolfWren-Redemption Fic just dropped:

Exile [Canon-Continuation/WolfWren/Slow Burn/Redemption Arc]

Chapter 1 of (???oh god help us)

Inspired by @somewillwin's Bounty Hunter Shin concept, because I am very very weak:

[Summary] After escaping Peridea together, Sabine sends Shin into hiding until the danger from Thrawn & the New Republic passes. Three years later, the shadow-war with Thrawn drags on, and Sabine searches for Shin in vain, desperate to know she's okay, and desperate to pick up where they left off.

"Sabine scanned the people around her, searching for a flash of platinum blonde, reaching out for a familiar force signature. The habit was too ingrained. It had been almost a year since she’d consciously given up on ever finding Shin. She wondered how long it would take before every part of her finally gave up."

"Shin wondered just how much pain one person could take. And if, one day, she would have suffered enough to make up for all the pain she’d inflicted on others- and if she could bear it, until then. All she knew is that she would never, ever let someone get close enough to hurt her ever again."

Read on Ao3

[somewillwin]

Request for whatever I wanted wolfwren shhshsh for @/starwarsdublin on Twitter ♥️ so I made a bit for the bounty hunter au after shin got her face scar

Kofi

[gun-roswell]

Chapters: 1/1 Fandom: Star Wars: Ahsoka (TV), Star Wars - All Media Types Rating: Explicit Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings Relationships: Shin Hati/Sabine Wren Characters: Sabine Wren, Shin Hati Additional Tags: WolfWrenWeek2024, WolfWrenWeek, Western AU, Humour, Developing Something, Casual Sex, Bounty Hunters, part one Series: Part 2 of WolfWren Week 2024, Part 4 of Sabine/Shin, Part 6 of 100x1000 Summary:

This town ain’t big enough for the two of us, but the bed is? You serious? This is part one.

[wolfwrenweek]

The prompts for the second annual WolfWren Week (Nov 11-15) have been decided! Our theme this year is Tarot Cards, meaning each day of the event will have prompts and a card to use for inspiration. Check out our full About & Rules for more! A text version of the prompt graphic can also be found below.

DAY ONE: November 11 The Moon | Lothal UPRIGHT: Illusion, fear, anxiety, subconscious, intuition REVERSED: Release of fear, repressed emotion, inner confusion

PROMPTS: “Are you following me?” I Can Make Her Worse Fighting as Flirting Touch Starved Eye Contact Vampire AU Sparring Hatefuck

DAY TWO: November 12 The Wheel of Fortune | The Eye of Sion UPRIGHT: Good luck, karma, life cycles, destiny, a turning point REVERSED: Bad luck, resistance to change, breaking cycles

PROMPTS: "You want to kiss me so bad it makes you look stupid.” You'd have to stop the world just to stop the feeling “Why are you looking at me like that?" Soulmate Identifying Mark Bounty Hunter AU Force Bond

DAY THREE: November 13 The Tower | Great Mothers' Fortress on Peridea UPRIGHT: Sudden change, upheaval, chaos, revelation, awakening REVERSED: Personal transformation, fear of change, averting disaster

PROMPTS: "I'd let the world burn for you." “Don’t leave.” / “Please stay.” “I still hate you," "Good." Abandonment Issues Enemies to Lovers "I can help you." Sharing Clothes Injury/Healing Rebel Shin Cowboy AU

DAY FOUR: November 14 The Chariot | Thrawn's Star Destroyer UPRIGHT: Control, willpower, success, action, determination REVERSED: Self-discipline, opposition, lack of direction

PROMPTS: Put her canine teeth in the side of my neck To Be Loved Is To Be Changed “You came?” “You called.” "Going somewhere?” Trans Shin Hati / T4T Arranged Marriage Ancient Greece AU Body Worship Medieval AU

DAY FIVE: November 15 The Lovers | Sabine Wren / Shin Hati UPRIGHT: Love, harmony, relationships, values alignment, choices REVERSED: Self-love, disharmony, imbalance, misalignment of values

PROMPTS: Shin through Sabine’s POV / Sabine through Shin’s POV “It's rotten work" "not to me, not if it's you" Accidental Co-Parenting/Co-Guardians Scissor Till The Cows Come Home Oh my god they were roommates… Florist/Tattoo Artist AU Shin Learning Mando’a Return to Mandalore Love at First Bite Domestic Life Post-Peridea

You can follow along with us on Twitter/X and Instagram as well 💚🧡 If you have any questions or concerns, our ask box is open! Don't forget to add #wolfwrenweek and #wolfwrenweek2024 onto anything you create as well! All the art featured in this post was created by the lovely @sapphicsparkles, don’t forget to go check out their other work too 🗡️

[glassedplanets]

i cannot believe it's taken me this long to do a destiny AU but wow better late than never

playing very fast and loose with both canons here - pirate crews = renegade clans, marines/world gov't = vanguard (sorry actual vanguard whomst i love). the one piece is the traveler??? who knows. anyways:

luffy, human lightbearer

subclass: yippee!

loadout: wahoo!

ghost: mugi, one-of-a-kind shell given to him by shanks as a kinderguardian. the shell seems to change when he supers. What's Up With That!

all prismatic all the time, basically a dark age guardian. zero boundaries between class and subclass. just does whatever is fun. doesn't care until he Does and then you're fucked.

regularly wears (steals) class items from clanmates, it was a little alarming at first but they all feel whatever about it now

should not be trusted with raid mechanics.

zoro, awoken titan

subclass: strand

primary: breakneck (OG roll)

secondary: ergo sum (void/caster/wolfpack)

heavy: falling guillotine (OG godroll, WWB/relentless)

exotic: stoicism (inmost/star-eater or inmost/synthos)

ghost: wado, received from kuina after her death (don't think about this too hard. jaren ward/shin malphur situation. whatever). wado's shell was cloven by mihawk in a duel.

wears sanji's old bond looped into his mark, will not answer questions about this

specced hard into banner for a fuckoff insane melee loop, rotates melee buffs with luffy and sanji

mostly DPS/add clear, uses that ergo roll so that sanji/luffy/franky (haz prop) can get wolfpack, if the boss can't be meleed then Why Is He Even Here

flat-out banned from participating in the mechanics of several raid encounters on account of going to the wrong fucking place (vault, gatekeeper, sol inherent, totems, etc.), if he gets torn between dimensions or anything but first in queenswalk then everyone just has to desperately pray for the best.

ran vanguard bounties regularly until he eventually refused to cooperate with the then-head of the cosmodrome's operations; luffy found him with kuina's ghost bound and freed them both. The Rest Is History.

distributary-born but doesn't know (or care), kept being greeted weirdly by people in the dreaming city (which i guess is where we have wano's events......... kaido is literally a dragon, so)

VJ-G-66-03 sanji, human (?) warlock

subclass: prismatic, solar super

primary: fatebringer (OG fatebringer roll™)

secondary: tarrabah

heavy: apex predator (recon/B&S)

exotic: solipsism (assassin/synthos)

ghost: mignon, received from zeff after voluntarily giving up his light for sanji

wears zoro's old mark tied below his bond, will not answer questions about this

specced into Burn Motherfucker Burn, solar buddy + snaps, frontline add clear alongside luffy and zoro, also part of the "if the boss can't be meleed/snapped then why am i even here" gang

CAN be trusted with raid mechanics but is often better utilized keeping adds off the other half of the fireteam

sanji's body is riddled with vintech implants that don't seem to do anything. they're most definitely new, and sanji wasn't rezzed that long ago, but vintech was lost in the collapse along with everything else and the only thing that really survived is a bunch of muddled records found at old vega collective sites.

sanji was the vintech patriarch's one failed experiment; his consciousness refused transfer to an exo body and after many attempts, he was discarded but managed to survive through the kindness of dark-age guardians until he was taken in by zeff.

he has three vertical black facial markings; each experiment has a number of markings corresponding to their order (and color) in the sequence.

and other straw hats! i have a little less about them, but:

nami, human hunter

subclass: arcstaff (Throw Stick/well of bad/i don't remember its actual name)

primary: patron of lost causes

secondary: riskrunner

heavy: stormchaser

exotic: liar's handshake

ghost: zeus, stolen from big mom (tangerine shell)

(was tempted to do stormcaller unlimited power but arcstaff is... you know)

usopp, human hunter

subclass: solar, precision goldie

primary: succession

secondary: trinity ghoul

heavy: scintillation

exotic: nighthawk

ghost: merry (sheepshead shell)

can and should be trusted with raid mechanics along w/ nami

and the rest of the crew i'm not 100% set on buuuuut:

chopper: exo warlock (well of radiance)

robin: awoken warlock (strand? void?)

franky: exo titan (thundercrash)

brook: exo hunter (stasis)

jinbei: awoken titan (stasis? arc?)

misc others:

law: awoken prismatic hunter, blinky knife

reiju-0: exo void hunter, tether + smoke bomb, le monarque

ichiji-1: exo solar hunter, blade barrage

niji-2: exo arc titan, striker, ACD/0

yonji-4: exo strand titan

and textless, glow-less versions if you got this far!

[artficlly]

a dish served cold (mini series - part four)

Wild West Marvel AU

outlaw!bucky x reader after the murder of your pa, you go on a journey to find justice. fate brings you to crimson junction for a reason, and that reason is bucky barnes. 

Warnings: enemies to lovers, forced proximity, guns, violence, kidnapping, murder/death, attempted sa, head injuries, choking, vomiting, creepy men, period typical attitudes, outlaw bucky, protective bucky, alcohol, betrayal, bounty hunters, no use of y/n, lmk if i've missed anything

Word Count: 5.1k

A/N: part four!! things are starting to get moving now. let me know your thoughts sorry for any typos - not proof read.

main masterlist | series masterlist

If you had expected peace and quiet once the sun set, you were sorely wrong. After being cramped up in a saddle for hours on end, you’d hoped exhaustion would take you the moment you were returned to solid ground. But aside from Barnes, it seemed like you were the only one who was fatigued. 

Your captors hooted and hollered between themselves, gathered around their small fire as they greedily swallowed down whiskey. You had never thought bounty hunters to be so lax. They did not seem to fear the security of their catch, simply relying on the strength of their knots. There was no fear of an attack from a roaming gang or that you or Bucky might slip from your binds. 

You lean against a fallen log a few paces away from them and wonder if they knew how you schemed. In every moment of travel, you pictured increasingly violent ways to escape. You were just waiting for a moment of vulnerability—a moment where you could strike and end this ordeal once and for all. Your thoughts had always been conflicted previously, a silent, crawling worry of judgement. It was a sin to kill; yes, the Bible and preachers always said so. But what of self-defence? What of the rising dread you felt, the knowing in your bones? Deep down, you knew. You knew that if you did not act, you might become yet another corpse that littered the deserts. Or you might be subjected to a range of much worse fates—the ones women truly feared. 

It is the crunch of boots against the rocks and sand that alerts you to one of them drawing closer. Not the ringleader, but another. Rumlow. The man pauses in front of you, crouching down to your height. You swallow hard, your posture straightening. He has a drunken grin, one rather close to a sneer. He brushes a strand of tangled hair from your face. 

“You’re a pretty thing, aren’t ya?” Rumlow muses, his eyes scanning across your dirty face. “I do wonder if we keep ya around after this bounty business is done. Could be nice to have some… female company around.”

You shift away as far as you can, but despite your efforts, you feel his hand reach under your skirts. You lift your leg, intending to kick the man, but his spare hand grips your shin, pinning it down. Filthy hands graze across your skin, up past your knee. Bile burns in your throat, your hips squirming as you try to put further distance between the two of you. Rumlow chuckles, fingers ghosting across your thighs. 

You grit your teeth, squeezing your thighs together to trap his hand in place, hoping and praying that he would not try to reach any further. “I would sooner put the barrel of a gun in my mouth and pull the trigger than be your whore.” You hiss.

The man goes to laugh but stops abruptly. The phlegmy wheeze caught short as you spit in his face. He froze, as if in disbelief. He releases your shins, his hand rising to his cheek, wiping the glob of saliva with one swipe. You watch in disgust as he brings the finger to his lips, sucking the fluid off with a twisted grin.

You are revolted to find that Rumlow appeared… delighted by your sudden will to fight.

He raises his free hand, swinging it down and cracking it firmly across your cheek. Your neck cranks as your head is struck to the side. The shock of it jolted you; your thoughts somewhat momentarily dazed as pain quickly radiates across your skin. You gasp, staring at the ground beneath you. Hesitantly, you run your tongue over your split lip, wincing as you taste blood. 

You feel heat flare across your cheeks, the steady hum of rage flooding your veins. He had released your shin. With a grunt, you raise your knee in a sharp, abrupt motion. Rumlow groans as it connects with his gut, digging his fingers into the flesh of your thigh. “You’re gonna regret that, you stupid bitch.” 

Before you could react, he rose to his feet. One hand seizes a fistful of your hair, and you let out a yelp as he tugs. Rocks dig sharply into your skin as he jerks you onto your stomach, grunting as he drags you across the clearing. You twist in his grip, letting out a gasp as he finally releases you. Your shoulders ache as you desperately tug at the binds keeping your arms tied behind your back, a blind panic setting in. 

You feel him tower over you, his hands digging into your sides. He flips you from your belly onto your back, and you let out a winded squeak, wriggling as you try to break free. 

“Get away from me.” You manage to gasp as the man huffs out a laugh, gripping you by your ankles as he tugs you towards him. You struggle in his grip, managing to free one of your feet, and kick him solidly in the nose. 

Rumlow pauses his movements, the crunching sound of bone reverberating across the campsite. 

He lets out a pained wheeze, his hands rushing upwards as blood streams from his nose. You watch mesmerised for a second as the crimson liquid spills over his hands, dripping down his forearms. 

With a grunt, you flip onto your stomach once more. You wriggle forward, hoping some distance might change your situation for the better. Your victory was short-lived, as you are left frozen as a pair of leather boots stand in your line of sight. 

“Ya know, I’m gettin’ a bit sick of you, little lady.” Pierce snarls, leaning over as he grips one of your arms. Without so much of another word, he hauls you across the ground. You wince and yelp as the rocks and twigs dig into your skin, tearing at your skirts. 

But, to your relief, the ring leader sits you upright once more. Gasping for breath, you are leaning up against a pole. Pierce pauses to stare at you, rubbing the stubble along his jaw. 

“You best stay put now, or I’ll set my boys on ya.” He warns, his eyes moving to look at something behind you. “You’ll keep an eye on her, now won’t ya Barnes?” He sneers teasingly.

You turn your head to look behind you. In your struggle, you haven’t realised the outlaw was tied up directly behind you. Barnes doesn’t respond, and you watch the profile of his face as he stares broodingly into the night. Pierce walks away to return to the fire, and you notice how the outlaw's fist and jaw are clenched. 

Quietly, you catch your breath, your head leaning against the post as you close your eyes. Your heart is beating wildly, and your chest is rising and falling as you try not to focus on the sting of your wounds and the pounding in your skull.

“You alright?” The low, gravelly voice of Bucky spoke up into the silence. You crack your eyes open, sighing heavily through your nose. You were surprised—very surprised, actually—that the outlaw was even interested in speaking to you. 

You run your tongue over your teeth, then your bottom lip, as you contemplate. The behaviour of your captors was elevating at a dangerous rate. If you remained with these men any longer, you weren’t sure you’d be lucky to escape as you had tonight. There was no way for you to untie your binds yourself, not without help. Mere days ago, you would’ve sworn Barnes was your enemy. You’d have to bite the bullet and consider a temporary allyship. 

You could not say you knew the man; you only knew the small acts of kindness he had shown you. You could offer a truce and hope that, in the end, he didn’t turn on you out of revenge for this whole messy situation. 

“Can I ask you a favour?” You hesitantly breach the silence that has fallen, ignoring his previous question. You might’ve answered yes, just to ease his mind that you were, in fact, okay. But you were too shaken to lie. It was hard to forget Rumlow’s dirty fingers had ghosted up your thigh. It was easy to picture what he might’ve done if you had not fought back.

“A favour?” Barnes asks. You could feel him shift behind you, adjusting his seat and trying to lean closer. 

“I know you have no reason to trust me, but I have a feelin’ the only way we can get out of here is to work together.” Your words were met with a contemplative silence. You swivel your head back again, your neck straining as you try to get a peek at his face to see if any emotion crosses his chiselled face. 

“And what were you proposin’?”

“My knife, it’s still in my boot; they missed it. I can’t grab it with my hands tied, but maybe you’ll be able to grab it.” You huff, snapping your head forward once more. Sliding your legs carefully underneath yourself so your feet were closer to where his hands were tied. Then, you shuffled backwards until your back was pressed against his shoulder. 

The outlaw bends closer to you in return, his hands blindly feeling around your calf, shin, and ankle, searching for an angle to stick his fingers into your boot. You keep your jaw clamped shut, ignoring the goosebumps that rise across your skin. You were thankful for your stockings, which prevent Barnes from feeling how your body reacts to his touch. It perplexes you how his unintentional caress felt so different from the type of touch Rumlow had subjected you to. 

“I get the knife, and then what?” Barnes puffs as he strains against the rope. His fingers press into your boot, searching for the thin blade tucked snuggly between the leather and your stockings. With your back arched, you tilt closer, trying to give the outlaw a fighting chance to retrieve the knife. The whalebone edge of your corset cut into your skin, and your breathing grew strained as your ribs were squeezed at the awkward angle. 

“You hold it for me, and I can cut myself loose, then I’ll cut you free.”

His fingers pause, as if he were suddenly second-guessing your proposal. “And what’s to say you don’t bolt the second I cut you free.”

You sigh, squeezing your eyes together in frustration. Your back and hips ached from the position in which you were bent, and your legs were cramped and quivering as you tried to stay upright. 

“I promise, okay? I know it ain’t worth much. I just know I can’t get out of here without your help.” You say, near begging. Your breath comes out in short pants, the tight lacing of your corset showing no mercy. His fingers are still frozen in place, and you can imagine the frown that has fallen across his face. “I am scared. Is that what you want to hear? Those men… those men are only get worse each night, and I ain’t gonna be able to fight them off much longer.”

You wait for his response, expecting him to ask how it would benefit him—other than the obvious possibility of him escaping his fate of swinging once the party reached civilisation. To your surprise, he doesn’t appear to question you. The outlaw grunts, as if not even able to find the word to reply, and to your relief, he begins digging for the knife once more. You release a sharp breath, clenching your jaw as you strain to stay twisted in place. 

When he finally manages to grip the blade after a few more minutes of fumbling around, you nearly sob out of joy. The outlaw succeeds in plucking the knife from your boot, and you moan in relief, flopping against him as you flex your legs back into place. Barnes is tense at your touch; his body is stiff as if it had turned to stone. 

“Hold still.” He mutters. The coarse fibres of your binds rubbed at your wrists, the pull of the knife tugging them back and forth. The two of you are dead silent as he works, eyes locked on your captors, who were still huddled around the fire, drinking and oblivious. They don’t notice anything amiss. 

With one final tug, the strands of the rope come apart. You gratefully pull your wrists apart, rolling your shoulders subtly with a relieved sigh. Your moment of bliss is short-lived, as you do not want to draw attention to yourself before you are able to free Barnes. You make quick work of his rope, your fingers gripping the blade expertly as you quickly cut. Your head snaps rapidly between the rope that disintegrates between your fingers and the group of captors. 

Only when the outlaws binds are removed do you shift back into your original position, so as to not rouse suspicion if they glanced over. Your pulse sounds like a drum in your ears as you lean back onto the wooden post. Half of you had expected the outlaw to leap to his feet, materialise a gun from thin air, and take them out expertly like a gunslinger of legend. Another half expected he might turn on you, that vengeance for your actions might outweigh his common sense. 

Barnes did neither. Instead, to your surprise, he presses your small knife into your palm and mutters to you in a low voice, “We should wait until they fall asleep. Easier to shoot without ‘em shootin’ back.” 

“You want to kill them?” You say, horrified. 

Even if you had pictured your captors deaths repeatedly, you did not actually intend to kill them. There was rage, frustartion, and fear inside of you, yes, but you did not want to become a murderess. Maybe there would be some satisfaction in causing them to be arrested and watching them swing, but were you truly capable of killing? Having a violent thought was no sin, but only if you did not act upon it. 

“As far as I’m concerned, they deserve it, darlin’.” Barnes replies gruffly. 

You think back to how the outlaw has watched as these men beat and torment you. How he had grit his teeth and clenched his fist. Your captors had found enjoyment in his suffering as equally as yours, laughing when he stumbled and dragging him by his neck. Thinking back, you recognised there was a growing darkness in his gaze, a hateful, vicious thing growing within him. 

“I think it’s up to the law to decide who deserves what.” You say, but deep down, you are unsure of your own words. Even if you escaped without killing your captors, what was to say they would give up the chase? How far would they travel through this godforsaken desert just to get to Barnes? And you could not simply let Barnes slip away; you still needed him. 

“Those men hurt you, hell, they were gonna do a lot worse. You’re tellin’ me that you’re not the least bit upset about that?” He asks, irritated. 

You cannot find the heart to reply.

—

It didn’t take long for your captors to fall asleep—a mixture of the exhaustion of the day and the indulgent pours of whiskey they allowed themselves. You were surprised; you’d never expected bounty hunters to be so sloppy. Maybe they could afford it due to their numbers, more firepower, and strength. You wondered why your captors didn’t have the foresight to leave one of their own awake to stand watch or why they didn’t sleep in shifts. Maybe they had too much faith in their knots or even their ears to wake them at the slightest noise. 

You had decided you would not kill. No. You would have Barnes do the dirty work if necessary. Whatever watched over you would have to forgive you for that sin, but at least you would not have blood on your hands. 

The camp grew silent until only the crackle of the fire, the nickering of the horses, and Barnes slow, deep breathing joined you. It was only when you heard the soft snores that Barnes nudged you with his elbow. The outlaw glances over his shoulder at you, his face dusty and eyebrows knit together in a look of determination. 

The two of you slowly rise to your feet, careful and purposeful with each step as you navigate your way through the small camp. One of the captors had fallen asleep next to the fire, while the other two had miraculously made it to their beds. 

You clutch your small knife in your hand. You had decided it would be suspicious if you left yourself unarmed—you didn’t want Barnes to suspect your plan to use him. Based on what you had heard from stories and personal experience, you did not think the man was particularly remorseful about using violence and taking lives. However, you did not want to give him any more reason to distrust you than he already likely did.

Trust would be key, as much as it disgusts you. 

You watch on like a hawk as Barnes hesitantly leans down, retrieving a pistol from the belt of one of the men. You hold your breath, momentarily captivated, as the light from the fire illuminates his side profile, strands of messy hair sweeping over his forehead. There is a strange feeling in your gut that was unfamiliar to you, one that made you feel weak in the knees. Without disturbing its owner, he withdraws the gun from its holster with deft, cautious, and slow fingerwork. 

You release a long, slow breath, and Barnes rises to his full height once more. He does not even glance in your direction, instead assessing the gun and checking the number of bullets left. You creep towards him, a small, anxious voice within thinking he might turn the gun on you. Those thoughts are quickly dismissed, the knot in your chest loosening as Barnes gestures his head towards one of the men, and you nod in response. 

You go to creep backward a few paces to allow the outlaw the space he needs to commit whatever crime he envisions, but find yourself frozen in your tracks as warm flesh wraps around your ankle. You glance down, your mouth opening in horror, as you realise the man next to the fire has awoken. With one hand clutched around your ankle in a vice-like grip, the other reaches for his second pistol, raising it to point it directly at you. You yank your leg backward sharply as his finger comes to rest over the trigger. Your whole body jolts as a loud gunshot rings through the camp, the scent of smoke filling your nostrils. 

Your hand flies to your stomach as you gasp, fear prickling across your skin. You quickly realise that, despite the sudden shock, you are unharmed. Wide-eyed, your head snaps upwards, and you see Barnes standing with his gun aimed squarely at the now deceased man. Blood splatters, bone, and brain matter paint your boots, skirts, and the soil. You could’ve sworn you heard the sizzle as droplets of blood sprinkle the open fire. You gape at the scene, fixed in place from the shock. Your joints feel frozen—a chill that not even the campfire could melt. The shock hits you in a rush that leaves your chest pounding as you gasp for breath. Only when you jerk your head upward to look at Barnes do you find the will to move. You pull your ankle free, your legs wobbling as you try to step over the body. 

There is a look of worry that haunts the outlaws features. 

He thrusts out his hand to assist you, his fingers brushing your hands. You gratefully grasp at him, your knees nearly buckling as he supports your weight. There is a strange comfort in feeling his arms wrap around your waist, hoisting you away. You look up, hoping to thank him, but your gaze moves past his concerned expression as you notice a dark, looming figure standing behind him. 

“Bucky!” You shriek and dive to the ground as his grip on you slips. Your palms meet the earth first, with rocks digging into your flesh. A choked gasp leaves your throat as you realise your hands were slippery, thick, crimson liquid painting your skin. For a moment, you think it is Bucky, and a sob rises in your chest. You look upward, but by some miracle, the outlaw is unharmed. He has gained his bearings and jumped forward to tackle Pierce. Bucky’s sculpted arms wrap around his middle as they begin to tussle on the ground. 

Your eyes flick back down to your palms, realising the blood you knelt in was from the body next to you. Mistakenly, you look at the corpse, then make a small gagging noise as you gain your footing. Bucky and Pierce are still brawling like a set of wild dogs, all teeth and claws, as they both struggle to reach a misplaced gun. You contemplate reaching for the pistol to assist the outlaw, but before you can do anything heroic, a large mass slams into your side. You let out a yelp as your shoulder smacked hard into the ground below, biting pain radiating up your arm. The heat of the fire is scalding, and your head has nearly fallen into the pit.

The man above you is Rumlow, still as loathsome as you remembered him. There was a thin layer of sweat across his forehead, his nose was bruised, and his yellowing teeth revealed an angry grimace. With one of his hands raised and his palm flat against your face, he attempts to shove your head into the fire. You grit your teeth, struggling to find your knife, which fell from your hand during the tackle. The heat from the fire continues to sear your flesh, and the flames are inching closer as your captor pushes your cheek closer and closer to the flames. The light blinds you, and in a moment of desperation, you bite down hard on one of his fingers, spitting blood as he yowls in pain. Taking advantage of his momentary distraction, slam your knee into his stomach and roll out from under him. 

Your knife is discarded nearby, the glint of metal calls to you. You scramble towards it on your hands and knees, crying out as Rumlow grips you by the back of your head. Your scalp wails in agony as he takes a fistful of your tangled hair, yanking and tossing you to the ground. Your head cracks against the hard earth, a ringing in your ears as you roll onto your back coughing. 

Rumlow chuckled, lowering himself onto you. He straddles your waist, pinning you in place. You kick out wildly, trying your best to squirm your way out, but are unsuccessful. Wrapping his hands around your neck, he squeezes hard. Panic begins to rise as you fight for air, clawing at his hands desperately. Your vision zones in on his face, his crooked teeth, wrinkles, and slicked back hair. You turn your head, searching desperately for Bucky. Deep down, you knew he had no reason to help you, not while he thought you were some kind of bounty hunter. The edges of your vision begin to fade, the world growing grey as your lungs burn, your chest heaving in agony. 

Just moments before you consider closing your eyes and accepting this cruel and violent end, you notice a small light. A glint, not apart of the fire. A piece of metal, sharp and well-cared for. You knew this, as you had sharpened it yourself. Made in your Pa’s forge. It called to you once more. 

You reach out desperately, your palms dragging across the rough soil, until you can finally grasp between your fingers. With one last push, you clench your fist, driving the blade into the throat of your captor.

His mouth opens, eyes wide in shock, as he grabs at his neck. You gasp in air. Your throat burns, and your body suddenly grows possessed as you cough and heave. Blood spurts across your chest, neck, and face as Rumlow slumps over you. Still choking for air, you grunt loudly as you push the man off. Taking in large gulps of air, you roll onto your belly, close your eyes, and allow yourself a moment to breathe. The earth below you was warm from the fire, and you pres your forehead against it, not caring as you breathe in sand and dust. Beside you, Rumlow splutters, chokes, and gags before finally falling silent. 

These people had corrupted you. You were only a few weeks away from home, and you had become one of the characters in a cautionary tale your church would preach. There was blood on your hands; there was blood all over you. You were dripping in it, as if you had submerged yourself in a bath filled with it. It coated everything—your very being, your very soul. What would your Ma say? Her daughter, her only child, a sinner? You would surely go to hell for this, self defense or not. You could’ve stabbed him anywhere—the arm, the shoulder—but you chose the throat? It was never supposed to go this far, this… this idotic fantasy. You were a killer, a murderer. Had you completely abandoned your morals? All for what? Vengeance? 

Your arms shook as you rose up on all fours, gagging and heaving as you vomited up bile. You could not remember the last time you had a proper meal. Your stomach aches, and your throat stings from the acid. Eyes watering, you sniffle as you wipe at your face, pushing yourself to a kneeling position. 

Bucky stood over you, his hand extended. The outlaw looked as though he had been thoroughly tussled, his hair messy, and the beginnings of a bruise across his cheek. You take his hand, feeling like a ragdoll as he pulls you to your feet. His hand raises, coming to gently and hesitantly touch your shoulder. 

“You alright?” He asks, his voice laced with concern and hesitation. He seemed to regard you like a spooked horse, making slow and purposeful movements so as not to scare you away. You held his gaze, knowing there was a likeness of death within them.

“Yes.” You lie through your teeth, your voice hoarse. As if he can sense your lie, he shrinks back and grunts in response.

Any expressive or lively emotions from the outlaw moments previous were lost. Now, you were met by a brick wall. His visage was darkened and stoic. A void of a man. He took a seat in front of the fire, slumping as his back turned to you. Rage bubbles within you, the boil large enough that you consider biting your own fist as not to scream. This man had already taken everything from you, and now you were caught up in this mess. Innocent, you were no more. You look around at the destruction around you—blood and bullets littering the ground. 

He had caused this. He had caused this destruction in your life and led you astray into the desert. You stare at the back of his head, your skin crawling as you imagine how you would crack it open. Allies, you were no more, now that your captors had been dealt with. 

Hands shaking, you let out a sharp breath and turn around. 

You needed a drink. Something, anything to stop the pounding in your skull. 

You worked your way through camp slowly, checking the dead bodies, the tents, and then the saddlebags. There was no more whiskey to be found, and more alarmingly, there were little to no supplies. You had wondered if the lack of food and water given to you and Barnes while in captivity was purposeful, but now it seemed rather like a lack of provisions. No wonder they had been living off whiskey the entire journey. That, and it appeared that your captors had been dead broke, other than a few measly coins tucked into a saddlebag. They didn’t even have any damn cigarettes left.

Unfortunately, it left you in a similar predicament. They had brought along your saddlebag, but it was as bare as their own savings. There was little to no money—just a couple cans and half a waterskin full of warm water. Thankfully, they had tucked your rifle into one of the saddles, which you gratefully retrieve. Crimson Junction had certainly bled you dry, having to pay for a room, food, and stabling your horse while you waited for the roads to open. 

It seemed ridiculous now, thinking back to when you thought this would be easy. Hindsight was a cruel maiden. 

Stroking a hand down the wooden grain of your rifle, you wondered where the valuables Bucky and his companions had collected had gone. All the fancy jewellery that was stolen during the robbery... had it vanished into thin air? Was that their victims’ legacies? Maybe he had spent it all while on the run, or maybe the group of them had hidden it somewhere in the wilds. Either way, it didn’t seem like your captors had had the foresight to bring his saddlebag, which was presumably with his horse still loose in the canyons. 

Your hands tremble, and you grip the rifle in your hands harder. Taking deep breaths, you stalk over to Barnes, who obliviously stares into the shrinking flames. You gaze upon him and still feel grief squeeze your heart. The outlaw had been kind to you and even saved your life. But what of justice? What of your foolish mission that led you to this desert?

What of the retribution you deserved?

You had tried to be the girl you were raised to be. You had tried to be innocent, true, and kind. You had tried so hard to be what was expected of you—to marry well and be a good wife or even a mother. But there was so much anger within you—a rage you did not know how to smother. The flames burned higher and higher until they spewed from your mouth and engulfed you whole.

You were no longer gentle. No longer that girl you left behind in Aramiah.

“What were you diggin’ around for?” The outlaw asks, but he doesn't bother to turn his head. Probably for the better. Had he really regained faith in you that quickly? So blind to the different sides of you? He did not even know you, or maybe he thought he did? 

In that moment, you were unsure if you even knew yourself.

You raise the rifle and swing it over your shoulder. 

“I’m sorry.” You croak out. 

Bucky turns, but it is too late. You bring your arms down and strike him hard across the head. His head snaps back, a gash splitting across his temple. 

He is out cold before he can hit the ground.

PART FIVE

[blackseafoam]

Clone Force 99 sticker sheet

501st sticker sheet

If you came here for nature art might I suggest my Instagram blackseafoam

✨MASTERPOST✨

Always happy to put people on my tag lists too, just let me know!

The Bad Batch

Prey (hunter, crosshair) . Wrecker . Our Kid (adult omega) . Fake Sleeping (Omega & Echo) . Air Show (Howzer & Hera) . Bandannaless Hunter . You Promise (Omega & Hunter) . Bald Bitchy Snipers (Aurra & Crosshair) . The Bird (Crosshair & Omega) . Return . RBF (Tech) . Droid Echo . All that matters (CH & Omega) . Tech & Kandria . Oldmn Hunter

The Bad Batch x Red Dead Redemption 2 crossover AU

Fic: Part 1 . Part 2 . Part 3 . Part 4 (coming soon)

Group Photo . Riding Lesson (Omega & Tech) . The Tech Turn . Tech & Phee Moment . Tech’s Mullet . Bad Feeling . Gonky & Batcher are dogs . Borrowed Hat (Omega) . Phee’s Horse . Karaoke (wrecker & omega) . Train Station Nap (Tech & Phee)

The Clone Wars

Wildness (Ahsoka) . GSFO (Tup) . Aurra Sing . Sideye Ahsoka . Blackout and Blair (Kelstare's Clone OCs) . Nerra (Waxer, Boil, Numa) . Echo . Choices (Cody) . ✌🏽 (Echo). Trust Issues (echo) . 👋🏼 (Fives)

STAR WARS (other)

Kanan Slut Strands . Dume (Kanan & Loth Wolf) . Shin . Leia . Buried Alive (Ezra) . nowhere (Sabine) . Not your fault (Cassian & Maarva Andor) . Bo Katan . Darth Vader

Vessel Vesper (My Star Wars OCs)

Fic: Part 1

Ulvi Ref. CT-8424 Flinch Ref . Fern Ref (Older) . Topdeck Confessions (Flinch & Ulvi) . Ulvi Sketches . Fern meets Anya . Flinch gets adopted at 79's . Young Professor Motti .

Red Dead Redemption

Long Hair Arthur . Campfire Sean . Homestead John . Charles & Javier . Hosea . Bounty Hunter Sadie . Javier & Boaz . Sketchpage . LENNY . Kieran & Branwen . John . Sadie . John washed his Hair

[shinhatisgirlfriend]

I can’t get the idea of a WolfWren pod racing AU out of my head

Picture this - betrayed by Ketsu and left for dead, bounty hunter Sabine Wren needs a new life for herself. But instead of finding Kanan and Hera, she finds herself entering the thrilling high stakes world of pod racing, tearing up the track in fifteen different systems. Like, imagine an AU where Sabine is pulling tricks like she did in the opening of Ahsoka with her bike - (and probably humiliating Sebulba if he’s still racing, an added plus) ((it also furthers my Sabine || Anakin agenda))

And then in another Phantom Menace inspired twist, padawan Shin Hati needs money. Probably for ship parts or something. Maybe Baylan’s dead, killed by an Inquisitor and Shin escaped but doesn’t have access to their accounts - maybe they just part ways early. Either way, what’s a Force sensitive teen to do to make money? And what’s a faster way to do it than entering in the local pod race, placing a huge bet on herself to win?

But the issue is Sabine Wren.

She beats Shin’s ass.

And it INFURIATES the SHIT out of Shin.

She keeps coming back to the track, keeps challenging Sabine to rematches - at one point Sabine, her cropped hair slick with sweat, her lean muscles exposed as she tosses her jacket aside goes “why are you so obsessed with me?”

Anyways it would either end with them fucking inside a pod OR somehow taking down the pod racing / betting / slavery ecosystem on Tatooine. Or maybe both tbh.

[whiteravengreywolf]

Hard Valentine's Day Night - a Wolfwren fanfiction

A/N: Hello everyone! I just posted a Valentine's Day special of our favorite ladies. It's a Modern AU where Sabine is a bounty hunter and Shin's a bouncer at a bar. Here is the beginning and if you want to read the whole story, the link will be at the end!

Sabine didn’t do Valentine’s Day. She had no one to celebrate it with, because she had work to do. So, on Valentine’s Days, she worked. She didn’t see a problem with that. It wasn’t pathetic, it was pragmatic. And it’s not like she was the only one. The bartender worked. The little band on the scene worked. The cute bouncer outside worked. There was no reason she couldn’t work either.

She finished her drink and turned to the man in the chair across from her. He wasn’t ogling her anymore, staring instead at a pair of young women near the bar. If she didn’t conclude their date swiftly, she might lose him. She leaned in her chair so her hand touched his thigh and, pretending to be drunker than she was – her cocktail looked like a strawberry daiquiri but it was nothing but sugar in liquid form – she shouted over the music:

“Do you want to get out of here?”

The man’s attention snapped back to her. He had the shadow of a beard that looked scratchier than her cat’s clawing post. He smirked and she held in the urge to roll her eyes.

“Sure, where do you want to go?”

“My car’s just outside.”

She stood up, taking his big sweaty hand in hers to drag him out of the bar. Thankfully, he complied. They left the pink balloons and romantic songs and walked outside into the fresh February air. There was still a short line to get inside, and the cute bouncer was still at the door. Sabine had never seen her before, either because she was new or because she didn’t work on Friday and Saturday nights when Sabine worked the most.

Her date grabbed her by the waist to pull her close, making her stumbles as her attention snapped away from the blonde with those sad green eyes and back to the man.

“Let’s go to my car instead,” he said, taking her toward the other direction.

She didn’t budge, planting her platform boots into the concrete. She tried to pull him toward her car once more.

“No, my car’s right over there. Come on.”

He chuckled, as if amused by her drunken antics.

“But you’re too drunk to drive. We’ll take my car.”

His grip on her hip became more insistent. Before he could bruise her, she leaned into him again.

“But we can’t take your car,” she said, dropping the slurring.

He didn’t notice right away. They never did.

“Why not?”

“Because it was impounded half an hour ago.”

Full Story Here: https://archiveofourown.org/works/53786719

[paradisaeaparedrae]

So about that vampire and vampire hunter au with Nabu Małolata Kaveh and Deshret Alhaitham...

Could you tell more? Your brain was so sexy for mixing all these aus with them that I love 👉👈🥺💗

PLS YES.

I want to preface this by I'm a firm advocate and believer of trans Kaveh just for clarification for certain events in this plot line 👀 (and all other aus)

I'll put this under the cut since its pretty long!!

Nabu is more or less a mystery to most. Many have heard of the king's child, but not many have seen. It had long since been debated whether the king had a prince or a princess, he being so beautiful, but very few had gotten to know. Nabu was said to be courted off to the neighboring kingdom, they having a daughter his age. Layla, and she was a kind and caring pureblood, but far from Nabu's type. They became fast friends and each confided that this arranged marriage didn't suit either of them. Layla had her eyes on a parculiar boy herself, and they both agreed that this arrangement couldn't go through, but they each enjoyed their times together whenever these courting were arranged.

Nabu often found himself on the outskirts of the kingdom in a field of wildflowers and tall grass, he having his own little private abode. A small shack with a thin mattress, a wooden table, and a fireplace where he'd cook. He was very kind and caring, tending to the wounded he'd happen upon from that of his own kind, pureblood or not. He made no such attempt and injury to any, but on one particular day, he happened upon a gruesome scene.

Deshret lived quite a far ways off by horse, having traveled for a certain bounty. The leader of the vampire hunting clan himself, it wasn't something he was necessarily interested in. Upon his parents' passsing, it had eventually been bestowed upon him from a very young age and he had taken up the position. He was more or less indifferent, even offering up resources to those who had been claimed by a Pureblood only to be left behind, thirsting and in need. It wasn't their fault, after all.

It was on this evening that he had been attacked by a pureblood himself, and by the time he had awoke, he was bandaged up from his torso, Nabu down on his shins in front of the fire as he made stew for his guest. It had been said that Purebloods like Nabu had the ability to hypnotize their victims, and he could. But he never did such a thing. Though it wasn't often that someone would get to see Nabu like this in person.

If fate hadn't wanted them to meet, then this was a cruel meeting.

But he stayed there for several days, making excuses of how it would be wise for him to stay in for the night. And the next day it rained quite heavily, and another excuse was given. Perhaps they had moved too fast, but the prince who believed in nothing short of fate felt the same. A twisted fate of romance, but one none the less. The man who had seen countless claimed by purebloods had let become claimed himself.

Eventually, he'd have to return to his clan. He'd make trips every few weeks on his trusted horse Adya to see Nabu, bringing supplies and even a sleeping bag to make that thin bed more comfortae, but his clan had been becoming wise. It did not fall on deaf ears of his secret meetings with the Pureblood prince, and they weren't exactly happy with it, either.

----

Now here it differs slightly, depending on which version of this au me and my fiance had created! And we also just started a new one with vampire deshret and human prince nabu today so 😏

[timetodiverge]

Commission by my beloved muse @somewillwin!! Shin's crew/found family from my WolfWren fic Exile (aka the Bounty Hunter Shin AU 🩷)

Featuring the members of the Nest crew: Ketsu (Wing 1), Shin (Wing 2), and my OC, feral orphan/foundling Sky (Wing 3)

...noting that the Ketsu X Shin (ShiTsu yayyyy!!!) vibes of the fic were ENTIRELY UNINTENTIONAL but have been....very fun lol. (And I now want to write a spinoff AU full of KetBineShin HA)

Ketsu and Sky love their Shin and glomp her at any opportunity 🩷

[van-der-linde-worms]

Take Your Cigarette From Its Holder, Burn Your Initials On My Shoulder

Pairing: Arthur Morgan/ Mary Gillis Linton

Fic summary: AU in which Mary is wanted for the murder of her husband and that of her father, and Arthur is a bounty hunter going after her.

Rating: Explicit

Genre: Idiots in love, slow burn

~~~~~~

Chapter XIII: Unrequited

Word count: 7980

Last chapter: Chapter XII

“Hey, Arthur!” Mary calls out from the kitchen. “ ‘fore it gets too cold, I was figuring we could head out for a little camping trip. It’s clear out anyway.” Mary pauses for a moment. “You know anything about constellations?”

“Stars? Eh, I know the north star I guess,” he mutters as he stretches his arms. “When do ya wanna go then?”

“What'd you say about today?”

He looks up at her as he picks up his pants from the floor. “Today? Hm, can't blame ya for getting bored, being stuck here all day 'n stuff.”

“So, it's a yes then?” she asks, just loud enough for him to hear her over the sizzling of whatever she is cooking in the pot.

“'course.” He puts on his shirt and makes his way to her. He can hear a faint laughter and his arms encircle her waist, making his heart flutter.

A blissful sigh escapes his mouth as he nuzzles his jaw against her hair. The top of her head is just at the perfect height for his chin to rest on. His arms tighten around her, the soft smell of her hair is almost heavenly to him. 

“What's a good time then?” she asks. Arthur lets out a low croon and looks down at the colourless, chunky mix in the pan. 

“We ain’t in a hurry. What’re you making anyway? Eggs?” 

“It’s oatmeal. I uh, didn’t have coffee so I grabbed the wrong dish. It’ll be fine, just slather some jam on there, it’ll be fine,” she reassures herself. Arthur looks away and shuts his eyes, he could have sworn whatever the eldritch menace in the pot is certainly isn’t oatmeal.

“Looks fine,” Arthur lies. 

“I just had a look in the news and I read some comet’s supposed to pass earth around this month!” Mary gushes. “I’ve heard they’re so pretty.”

“It’d be nice to get out with you again, Mary. We ain’t done anything since…” Arthur trails off. 

“Yeah, that’s what I was thinking of. I think near that decrepit old ranch would be nice, there’s lots of open space and the view is just gorgeous.”

“Sure.” Frankly it sounds rather romantic, but he doesn’t dare get his own hopes up. She’d been so kind to him, despite the situation.  If only it could be anything more. 

“So, if we head out around eight, I think we should head out on foot this time. I think it should be safe, no bears or anything.” she twirls around, her skirt hits his shin ever so gently. She stands on her toes and steals a kiss from his lips. She finds one of the jars and quickly pops it open. Arthur nods and moves the pot from the hot stove.

“Ain’t you energetic?” he begins shoveling the odd food onto plates, unsure of whether to add  knives and forks or spoons to go beside them. 

“Well, I’d just like to spend some time with you again. It’s lonely out there, on your own,” she slaps a spoonful of their sweet jelly on the chunks, trying to mask it. She steadily adds more. Arthur grabs his plate before she can add more. 

“Thank you.” Mary stops a spoonful later. The two sit down again. 

A look of slight discontent spreads across her features as she prods at the clumps, mashing the jam in with her spoon. The first rays of sunlight twinkle in her dark eyes, a murky orange glow peeks through her lashes. Her lower lid moves ever so slightly, the soft lines around her eyes cast gentle shadows,, her soft crows feet twitch as she takes a bite of the food. She couldn’t be more perfect, she couldn’t possibly be prettier, she couldn’t be any more wonderful and… god, I love her, I love her more than anything, more than anyone. If only.

“I was thinkin’ I’ll go down to the post again today, see if Hosea’s written back yet.”

“Could you check if Jamie wrote back too? They’re getting graded again right about now, they should be getting them back and I want to see how he did this time.”

“Sure, you need anything from the store?” Arthur asks. The porridge isn’t that bad, just weird looking. There’s too much jam to his liking. 

“I’d just like the letter, thank you. Oh, there should be some mint around there too!” She notes After a period of silence, she speaks up again.. “Y’know, back in the day I used to be pretty good at finding herbs. Whatever the cattle hadn’t stomped was always good, used to be that we’d dry them out to be eaten.” “You mind pickin’ some then?”

 “If we even find any.” 

“It’s high time I get moving then, if we ever wanna get out there on time,” Arthur stands up, picking up their empty plate. Mary brings hers to the sink as well. Arthur quickly kisses her again before he steps out. 

Arthur rides out to the post, taking his time. The autumn air was unusually warm that day. The ride passes by slowly as he enjoys the fading summer sun.

There were a few letters at the post office, this time . He didn’t often get mail, but this time was different. Mary got one from Jamie, Arthur got one from Hosea, another from John and one from Albert Mason, a photographer he ran into a bit ago. As he checks through the letters, Charles enters. 

“Arthur, hey! Haven’t seen you in a while,” he pulls Arthur out of his thoughts. 

“Charles. Yeah, been busy with somethin’. How’ve ya been?”

“Same as before, been trying to find you around.”

“Figure we should catch up some time. You think we could go hunting some time tomorrow, catch up?”

“Sure. But I gotta get moving now, got someone to meet in town.”

“I'll see you at the ol' spot in the mornin' then?”

“Yeah, sure.”

*****

The sun is hardly touching the horizon when Arthur arrives home, yet he can already see the ceramic pot steaming on the stove.

“Ain’t it a bit early for dinner?” 

“Figured since we're heading out we should eat early. I’m not letting you slip on eating, you’re too thin as is.” She rubs his cheek. His heart skips a bit. I love you.

She notices the letters in his hands, he picks out the one from Hosea, eyeing it as if it were a trap. “Who’s that from?”

“Hosea.” Arthur sits down and tears it open. His eyes scan the text, his expression shifting from concern to an amused chuckle. 

“What is it then?” she asks from the stove. 

“John got some girl knocked up in town, I did tell ya about John?”

She thought for a while before shaking her head, “Don't think so. What about him?”

Arthur shakes his head, as if in disapproval, though the mischievous grin on his face remains. “He's been heading to the bathhouse a lot. 'm pretty sure Dutch was still alive the last time he took a bath. Apparently a girl there caught his eye and, well, now little Johnny Marston's gonna be a pa.”

She lifts her eyebrows, surprised, “Oh? Send my congratulations to them then.”

“Nah, don't think John's too happy about it,” he says, folding the paper and shoving it into one of the drawers. “'sea wants me to have a talk with him later. Oh, and here's Jamie's letter”

“Thanks,” she says, carefully tearing the envelope open.

He observes her face as she scans the letter. A small smile creeps up her face. Insignificant as it is, her joy is contagious to him. “How’s the boy doing?”

“Did pretty well in his first test; he joined some club in school too. I’m glad he’s finally making more friends.”

“Good for him,” he shakes the strap of the satchel off his shoulder. “Meanwhile I have my brat of a brother.”

“Oh come on Arthur, he’s just a kid. I guess he just ain't ready to be a dad.”

“Him? A kid? Nah, he may be a manchild but he's a grown man, whether he likes it or not.”

“How old is he even?”

“20 or so. I know, barely older than Jamie, but ain’t no kid. He messes around, he gotta deal with the consequences.”

“I guess,” she shrugs, going back to work at the counter. “Poor girl though. What is he gonna do then?”

“Somethin’ dumb most probably. He is John.” 

“He ain’t gonna leave them is he?”

“He wouldn’t do somethin’ like that. Think ‘Sea’s pushin’ him to marry her now.” “Well I guess that’s good then, she ain’t just gettin’ left in the dust.” she sighs, measuring out some salt. 

“Figure this is the dumbest thing he’s pulled in years. You’re lucky Jamie ain’t like that.”

“That boy's done his fair share of stupid stuff too, believe me.”

“Do I dare ask?” Arthur asks with a chuckle.

“C’mon now Arthur, ain’t like every kid can go running around like John.” Mary scoffs. “Why, it’ll be getting dark soon, we should get movin’ after eating if we wanna catch anything.”

“You got anythin’ else planned?”

“Not really.”

“How do you even pick out them constellations?”

“Well you have to look at em or have someone else point ‘em out. I figure I could make something up too.”

“Y’know, back in the bad old days ‘sea used to teach me about the stars. Thing is he doesn’t know a damn thing about them and there ain’t no thing called an Aphana star or a wolf constellation.”

“Oh, but there is! It’s actually called the Lupus constellation and it should be in view in June!”

“Welp. I think it was back in the winter though, any idea if it’s visible then?”

“Nope.”

“Hosea’s got a way with bullshitting anyway, ain't a surprise. Should’ve asked Dutch, he’d’ve known.”

“What did Dutch know then?”

“Something about astrology, how stars are s’pposed to affect how people are.” 

“Hm? Horoscopes?”

“That, yeah. Think he got over it once he got to Marx.”

“Marx? Karl Marx?”

“You know him?”

“I’ve heard of him.”

“Dutch wouldn’t goddamn shut up about him for a year, least it was better than the Greek phase.”

“Greek phase? This Dutch guy was into a lot of stuff huh.”

“All kinds of it, but none of them ever lasted.” Arthur grumbles as he sets the table, the memory of Dutch bringing a faint smile to his face.  

She carefully fills the bowl with scoops of stew, filled with chunks of meat and carrots, and waits for them to cool down before placing them on the table. She sits down next to him as he sends the spoon into his mouth.

It doesn't taste too bad, the broth is flavourful and well seasoned, but the meat is  tough, probably overcooked. 

“How is it?”

“Tastes like rubber,” he teases, laboring his teeth through the meat.

“That's what Barry said. Unfortunately the poor guy didn’t live to tell the tale.”

He raises his eyebrow at her rather dark joke, “What, you're gonna poison me too?” 

 “Well if I am you would have tasted something, my dear,” she jokes. Arthur chuckles and shakes his head.

“True that. Tastes fine though, you’ve improved.” 

“Thank you, means a lot from someone who’s clearly burnt out his taste buds.”

He quickly empties his bowl, despite his complaints. She is still eating as he drops his bowl in the sink.

“Gonna pack for the night, you mind doin' the dishes?” he says, putting on his hat as he unlocks the door.

*****

She potters around the home, gathering things, excitement painted on her face, the kind of innocent glee he had grown to adore. He grabs the bedrolls from where he had put them. Her’s seems rather worn and dirty, something he’d rather take. She’d get cold far more easily anyway. Mary paces into the room, grabbing something from the closet. 

“C’mon then! It’s really perfect timing, new moon and all!”

“Comin’”, he answers. “Gonna saddle up Boadicea. You grab something warmer, s’a little chilly tonight.”

She raises an eyebrow, “Oh, now you’re nagging me?”

He shakes his head, though not exactly in denial, “Like you ain’t always cold.”

“None of your coats fit me— here, take this,” she shoves a wool blanket into his arms. “Besides, I know you’ll keep me warm.”

“ ‘ppose we don't need this then,” he gestures to the blanket in his hands.

“Guess we don’t. You’re enough for me.” 

His heart skips a beat. He knows all too well that it's only a joke, but to think that he would ever be enough for someone like her… he would never be enough, but, if she really thinks so…

Her voice pulls him out of his stupor, “We better hurry up.”

“Sure,” he mutters, once again leaving the house to load the bundles in his arms onto Boadicea. Making sure that she has brought her compass and matches— even though Arthur has probably got these in his satchel, he's always prepared for everything— she throws a scarf over her shoulder and swiftly ties it around her neck, a simple makeshift cloak to protect her from the cold, before stepping out to join him.

****

The spot she mentioned isn't too far away, and they have got themselves settled in no time. She gathers some errand branches for firewood as he sets up the tent.

Arthur joins her around the fire once he is done. He watches as she gazes into the flames, the light of the fire dancing on her face.

“When did it happen, the thing with John?” Mary asks.

“Last week or so I guess. Why?”

“Well, I just keep thinkin’ about it. Ain’t really fair somethin’ like that could just happen,”

“Really ain’t. Don’t dwell on it too much, ain’t like things would change anyway.”

“I know. Y’know we used to try for kids plenty, Barry and I, and nothing ever came of it. He got sons already ‘n he always blamed me for it.”

Her expression is calm, yet Arthur still feels a needle poking at his heart upon her words. “Oh. Must’ve been a hell of a thing.” 

“I guess.” The air between them once again falls to silence, the only sound being the crackling of the fire and the occasional crinkling of the grass as the wind makes its way through their swaying stems. “Heh, well, lucky thing I s’ppose. Never felt more trapped than back then with him in that place.”

Arthur inches his hand ever closer to hers, placing it in her open palm. Perhaps it’s an attempt to comfort her when he lacks the words to do it in any other way. Her skin feels wonderfully soft on his fingertips, the calluses under a delicate silken layer. The warmth emanates from her palm, her fingers are rather cool to the touch. Each wrinkle in her palm imprints itself in his mind, the contour of the muscle operating her thumb, the tiny little scars from a million little accidents over years, burns, cuts, abrasions. 

He opens his mouth to say something, but once again nothing comes out.

She pulls him close, placing a kiss on his cheek. He can feel his cheeks reddening, and he knows for a fact that it isn't the heat from the fire. I love you. 

She pulls herself onto his lap again, her lips meet his. The soft tingling doesn’t last for long. Mary’s fingers slip into his hair as she lays him down. Arthur feels a pang of sadness as her hands trails down his torso to his crotch. It’s childish, really, hoping that she’d somehow miraculously return his feelings. It‘s just sex to her, he reminds himself, nothing else, nothing more.

Yet he leans into her, pulls her closer until skin meets skin, flesh is inside flesh, thoughts melt into lust.

Just as the fire within them is quenched by the wetness between their legs, the flames before them simmer to red coals. He bites his lip as she lazily rolls down beside him. They both take a moment to catch their breath, and she points up to a bright star as he throws a blanket over them. She sits up to grab her compass, before once again lying down with him.

“That there’s the north star, and try to connect these seven dots, see that ladle? That’s Ursa Minor, the little bear,” she says, trying to map out the constellations before them with her fingers. Arthur feels a smile spread across his face as she connects the stars. “Under it, there’s a bigger ladle– Ursa Major, his mother. Oh, and right next to them!” Mary whispers, leaning on Arthus’s shoulder to align their view, so that she can point out the stars for him more easily. “See that long trail of stars? That’s Draco.”

“Let me guess, it’s a dragon?”

“Good guess, mister. Oh, and look to  the south west, near the moon, see that really bright one near the horizon? That’s Venus.”

“Oh, I remember Dutch pointing that one out to me, and the red one, Mars, is it?”

“Think so, I can’t really see it though, if we’re lucky we might catch it around sunrise. You see the hexagon above it? That’s Ophiuchus, the snake bearer.”

“And the line across it s’the snake?”

“Yeah, oh, and right at the top is Cygnus, the swan.”

“It does look like a bird. And what about that one next to it, the bright one?

“I’m not too sure– think that one is lyra. A lyre, y’know?” “A liar? Now that I’m familiar with.” “No, the instrument! You pluck the string like a guitar– well, probably more like a harp. It belongs to this poet Orpheus.”

“S’that feller on the sky too?”

“No, don’t think he is– if anything he’s going underground.”

“What’d ya mean?” “You see, this Orpheus guy who sings so wonderfully, the god of music himself gave him his lyre…”

As he listens to her story, Arthur pulls out his journal to mark down the stars, connecting the lines and writing down the name of each constellation beside it. It’s a bit dark, but the light from the campfire is sufficient. 

“...and his song is so beautiful, it moves the king of the dead to tears. So, he agrees to let him and his wife go, on one condition: Eurydice must walk behind Orpheus, and he should not turn around on their way back, until they reach the mortal realm, and if he does, he’s going back to the mortal world alone.”

“That sounds too easy.”

“Things are always easier said than done.”

“He turns around?” “Yeah.”

“That’s dumb.”

“I s’ppose… but, I think I would’ve done the same.”

“Nah, that’s ridiculous, I’d never turn around if I was him.” “It’s a long way up, it’s dark and it’s cold, he can’t hear her footsteps and he can’t see her shadow, her being a ghost. We can’t blame him for doubtin’ if she’s really behind him.”

“He could have called her name if he’s in doubt.”

“Maybe he did and she called back, but he couldn’t hear her.”

“Even if so, he can, y’know, wait until they’re up above before turning around?”

“Well, yes, but doubt got the better of him.”

“Doubt, huh, ain’t no use doubting,” he grumbles as he flips to a new page of his journal. She chuckles, “Now that’s bold of you to say. Surely you won’t say that you’ve never doubted anything before?”

“Well, no, but I’m not letting it hold me back.”

“Can’t really say the same for me. And looking back, I don’t regret a single bit of it.”

“To each their own, I guess.”

“I guess. Oh! Look to the east, that’s Jupiter.”

“Which one?”

“The big one under the cluster of stars, you see it?”

“Oh, yeah,” Arthur replies, as he marks it down on the pages. “It’s right in the middle of Taurus, the bull.”

“Bull? Can’t see it.”

“See that cluster of stars? That’s Pleiades. That’s its body, And there’s the horn– here, I’ll mark it down for you,” she says, quickly outlining the shape of the bull in his journal.

“And what a coincidence– do you know Taurus is the bull that the god Jupiter turned into?”

More stars are mapped out and more stories are told,with the rising and falling of celestial bodies being the only sign of the passage of time, and despite it being well into the midnight hours, Arthur does not feel sleepy at all. To him, the night only seems to be passing too quickly. 

He steals another glance at her under the starlight. He can see her better now, despite the fading light from the embers, now that his vision has adjusted to the darkness. She looks just as beautiful as she does in the day under the daylight, her features looking all the more softer in the dim lighting. Suddenly he wishes– as silly as it is– that he can lie with her like this always, forever, until their bodies turn to bones, until the last star in the universe dies out.

“You see that board guy over there? Near Gemini?” her voice once again grasps her attention.

“What guy?” he asks, staring at the direction she is pointing towards. “You see those three bright stars? They mark his belt.” She grabs his hand and uses his finger to point out those stars for him. “And over there, that’s his bow. That’s Orion, he’s a hunter.”

“Think I see him now,” Arthur mutters, outlining the feller with his pencil.

“He kinda looks like ya, y’know, big and broad and all.” He lets out a small chuckle, “If you say so, ‘cept I don’t sparkle.”

“Right. Oh, and underneath! Sirius, the brightest star in the night sky other than Venus. It’s not fully out yet, but you can see half of Canis Major.”

“Let me guess, it’s a dog? The hunter guy’s dog?”

“Exactly, and you can see the rabbit running away from them…”

He can tell the sun is going to rise soon by the time the two finally settle down in their bedrolls, as the sky gradually changes from dark blue to pale purple. He pulls her over to the nicer bedroll before she has a chance to protest.

“I've got my own bed,” she says, though she slips under the sheets with him regardless.

“It's old 'n dirty, 'sides, we fit pretty well here don't we?”

“Hm, it's cozy enough,” she mutters mindlessly,  resting her head right above his heart. She can hear his heart speeding up the second she lays her hand on the other side of his chest, but pays it little mind.

A small smile blooms across his face as she yawns, she's kind of adorable like this, soft, docile, her usual defensiveness vanished into the night.

“You're so warm…” she mumbles, right before falling asleep, “I can hold you forever like this.”

Please do, it is the last thought he has before he, too, falls into slumber.

****

Arthur heads out shortly after they went home, only to return with another man an hour later. The two are engaged in a discussion as she steps back in, putting down the basket of clean  clothes in the corner. Seeing another person in the house is a strange feeling, her heart frantically jumps around her chest. They both look up, she feels she should just run off. Surely he’d recognize her, he’d know, everyone did, he’d instantly know and now she’s trapped in a house-

“Mary, was expectin’ you. Charles Smith, Mary Linton.” She reaches to shake his hand, the two make brief eye contact and engage in the courtesy.

“Pleasure to meet you, Mr. Smith.” she greets, the man nods in response. She steps around the room and looks at them both. The two connected rooms offer little privacy and stepping out would be rather rude. 

“C’mon, sit with us,” Arthur invites her over. She sits by him and notices the cups of coffee on the table. There was a chip on one of the cups, a large one. The silence is broken by him yet again. “This is the feller I was tellin’ you about, we ain’t met in a while.”

Charles and Mary look at each other in silence and then glance back at Arthur. “And this is Mary, figure you read about her in the papers a bit ago.” Shut up, Arthur, just shut up. Please.

“Think I did. Arthur didn’t tell me about this situation.”

“Well, i-it’s not really a thing that should get out, in case someone hears, you see.” Mary excuses. Charles shoots a look at Arthur, silently shaming him for every single choice that led up to this. He had caught on the moment she stepped in. The two pillows on the bed, the little stitched on details and his neatened up appearance. A thing Charles hadn’t before noticed was the degree of his idiocy, apparently. 

Arthur notices her stilted mannerisms and places his hand on her hand under the table. 

“Why then?”

“ ‘s hard to explain,” Arthur squeezes her hand. She gently squeezes back.

“Ain’t really. We share a bed.”

“Oh.”  

Arthur chats with the man for a while, before the two get up to leave. Charles raises an eyebrow at him as he pulls a jacket on, questioning the whole situation. He eyes the strange lady observing them. 

“You wanna come with us?” Arthur asks, it snaps her out of her trance. 

“Well, I won’t be of much help or company. ‘Sides, I have things to do, you go on ahead darlin’,” Mary stands up as they step out. 

Darlin’.

Arthur pauseos at the door, turning back to look at her, their eyes meet as she steps forth. The door clolpsllles, the9ootttotototo to to tttttt  the 9brief moment ends as the door clicks shut. Arthur lets out a breath he only now realizes he had held in for the time. Something was missing, he thinks, but shakes the thought away.

Should have goddamn kissed her.

He gathers his thoughts for a moment and steps back to meet the younger man. 

“What’s going on with you, Arthur?” Charles asks. 

“Nothin’, nothin’,” Arthur denies, turning away. Charles furrows his brow. 

“At this rate I’d have guessed you married her.” His tone is only half joking.

“Huh.” he feels a flush creep up his face at the thought. It’s a silly, soft  thought but… that damned woman seemed to some strange aura about her. She wouldn’t ever, never in a million years even consider it would she, not with me. Fool.

“As a matter of fact ‘m hurt ya didn’t tell me.”

“Ain’t like that, Charles. She ‘n I ain’t involved like that, she’s got her own things goin’ on and she’ll probably leave me any day now.”

“Is that so?” Charles casts him a strange look as they walk into the woods, “I’ve never seen you act like that with anybody.”

Arthur sighs, he can’t help but be ashamed of these…stupid feelings, but it would probably do him good to let it out. It’s just Charles, ain’t like he will judge him for it.

“Well I do like her a bit, she’s been living with me for a while and she…she’s been real nice to me, y’know.”

“…I can tell,” Charles mutters, recalling in terror the way the two looked at each other. “Thought you were tracking her down just a while ago, and now you’re living with her?”

“Long story short, she saved my life, I owed her one, and she needed a place to hide so, we ended up sharing a roof.”

“And you said you like her?”

“Yeah?”

“Arthur,” Charles stops in his tracks, turning to look at him. “She killed her husband.”

“Yeah, that. That feller was a bastard, a child rapist. Can you blame her for that?”

Charles sighs, he can see the reason behind that woman’s action, if what she claimed was true, that is, but he sure can’t see any logic behind Arthur’s thought process. “Still. Of course she’d put him in a bad light in her story.”

“Even if she did lie to me it ain’t like I haven’t murdered anyone before. C’mon, let’s get going,” he urges.

“Fair enough. She does seem sweet on you, gotta say.”

“You really think so?” Arthur asks, his tone almost hopeful.

“That she’s sweet on you? Yeah. I’m guessing she’s why your den finally looks like a house now?”

“Yeah, yeah, she’s been a great housemate.”

Charles wants to point out that housemate seems like an odd choice of word given the way they interact, but he does not comment.“ ‘m glad to hear that, but still, be careful.”

“C’mon, if she’s going to kill me she would’ve done it weeks ago. Enough about me, how have ya been?”

“Same old. There's this beekeeper who moved near me a few weeks ago and his little army has been bothering me ever since. Nothing interesting beside that, really. How’re you two getting on?”

“A beekeeper? Never would’ve guessed voluntarily keep ‘em.”

“Mm, yeah, all sorts of folk out there. What’s she been doing in this time?”

“They live out near the fields? Saw a bunch of flowers there, seems like a nice place for ‘em.”

“Heard there was someone new in town sellin’ knitted things ‘n embroidery”

“Yup. Does he get stung by ‘em often?” “Is it her?”

“Yup, so, how’re you two gettin’ on, other than that?”

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

“Hm? Means what I said it meant.” Arthur shrugs. 

“Hosea told me you were harbourin’ an outlaw, said it like it had passed. When’s she gonna be gone?” Charles dodges the subject.

“Hope not soon. Charles, I… I think I love her.”

A look of disapproval spreads across the other man's face. “I’m not gona do anythin’ about it, it’d… it’d be dumb.”

“C’mon, Arthur, I can see that, but I don't wanna see you get hurt. Might just be best to let her go.”

Arthur sighs heavily. 

“I know, I know. S’gonna hurt anyway. Enough about her, you said you saw a stag ‘round here earlier?”

*******

“Oh, you guys are back,” Mary says, emptying a can of beans into the steaming pot.

“Yeah,” says Arthur, swinging off his satchel to hang it behind the door. “Watcha makin’?” He asks, looking over her shoulders. 

“Just put together what I could find, we’re running low,” she says, stirring the mixture of beans, mushrooms, and potatoes. “And nice to see you again Mr. Smith,” she greets as the other man lays down several bundles wrapped in paper on the table.

“Charles’ fine,” he replies. Mary only hums in response.

“Yer staying for dinner?” Arthur asks. Mary secretly hopes he would refuse, not because she dislikes Arthur’s friend. In fact, she finds him a pretty nice feller, but it is just so awkward and unnatural, especially with Arthur being so at ease and Charles being clearly as uneasy as her.

Charles merely shrugs, “Sure.”

“What have you guys got?” she asks, sprinkling some salt over the pot.

“Just some rabbits. What’d ya say if we roast ‘em?”

“I’m fine with it.” Arthur nods as he grabs a knife to skin the rabbits. 

“Need any help?” Charles offers.

“No, it’s fine, you’re the guest,” Arthur says.

“A guest? You’re talking like I’m a stranger,” Charles jokes as he sets himself down at the table, slightly more relaxed now.

“You come here often, Mr Smith?” Mary asks, trying to break the awkwardness.

“I used to.”

“Oh?” Mary puts the lid over the pot, before walking over to pour a glass of water for Arthur, then another for Charles. He silently thanks her with a nod.

“Well, then you came.” Suppose Arthur doesn’t want anyone interrupting you two. Charles thinks, though he knows better than to say it out loud.

Mary freezes, trying to think of the implication behind his statement. There is not a single bit of repulsion in his tone, yet his words make her feel like an intruder. She wonders if that’s what she is to his friends and family, someone uninvited, a hindrance to Arthur’s life. They won’t be wrong, she thinks, she has been nothing but a dependent with little contribution.

“I won’t be disturbing him for long,” she explains. “He’s been a great host, but I’d hate to bother him for any longer. I’ll be out of here as soon as I can, right Arthur?”

A sharp metal cling tears through the room before her words fall. Mary turns around and finds that Arthur has dropped the knife.

“…Arthur? Are you alright?”

He shakes his head out of his trance. “Yeah, am fine, my hand just slipped.”

She picks up the knife for him before returning to the stove. Charles watches as Arthur ties a string onto the rabbits.

A silent sigh escapes him. His face falls, the happiness sucked away by those words. 

“You alright?”

“ ‘m fine,” he shakily picks the knife up. “These’ll be good.” he smiles, a weakness hidden behind those words. 

Charles smiles back, pitying the other man.

Fine. Fine! Completely fine. Just like she’s with leaving. FINE.

“Hey, well. I hope you two had fun out there, the weathers been fine all week!” she continues. FINE, FINE, EVERYTHING’S JUST GODDAMN FINE.

“Could have used you out there too,” Charles tries to break the tension. He notices his friend's hand tighten around the knife. He places a hand on his shoulder and notices the tension in his muscles.

He snakes his hand onto Arthurs and gently places the knife on the table. 

“What?” Arthur asks, confused.

“Nothin'. You're done with this, right? I'll take it to wash.”

“Oh, yeah, alright.” Arthur says. Charles drops it at the sink while Arthur kneels down before the fireplace, hanging the rabbits over the pile of logs.

Charles sits back down at the table. He notices how Arthur is still kneeling on the floor, despite having finished his work. He doesn't comment.

Arthur finally breaks out of his haze as Mary turns around, leaving the steaming pot behind. “Yer done?”

“Not yet, gotta let it simmer for a while,” she mutters, grabbing the unfinished needlework on the table. Charles immediately recognises it as Arthur's neckerchief. Huh.

Arthur brushes the ashes off his hands on his pants. “S'gonna take these at least an hour to cook too.”

“I hope you boys are not too hungry then,” says Mary, as she sits down at the edge of the bed, disappearing from their view.

“I can wait,” Charles says. Arthur casts the bedroom door another glance before sitting himself down at the table, opposite to the other man. 

“So, what have you been up to, other than getting all enamored and stuff?” Charles asks with a whisper. Arthur really has been a stranger lately. He can sense something has changed in him during the past few months. Though Charles can't really tell what it is, he knows Mrs Linton and Arthur's…feelings for her, have to be the reason for it.

“Eh, nothing much, just the old stuff.”

“Y'know, your house really looks a lot nicer now.”

“Yeah, like I said she's a great housekeeper.”

“You look a lot better than before too, you know that right?”

“Do I?” Arthur gives him a funny look. “How?”

“Hard to say, but at least you don't like you're gonna die in a week anymore.”

“That's a real nice compliment coming from ya,” Arthur chuckles. 

“I mean it, you look way happier than before.”

He shrugs, “S'ppose the extra company does me good.”

“...company, huh?”

“What?”

“Nothing.”

“So, you said you've got a new neighbor?”

“Yeah, a Jason Brown or something like that. I forgot his name and it'd be too strange to ask at this point.”

“Why? Just say you haven't got his last name or something.”

“Guess I should try that.”

“You said he keeps bees?”

“Yeah, he's given me a jar of honey a while ago. He's a pretty nice feller. His herd, not quite.”

“What'd they do?”

“They were supposed to be heading to the apple farm nearby— he mentioned something about them being pollinators and him having got a fund from the owner— but they kept heading to my house to bug me.”

“You ever got stung?”

“A couple times. Didn't even do anything to them.”

“Huh, what about that Jason feller?”

“Not as far as I know. I've seen him work from a distance before. They seemed to let him do whatever he wanted to their hive. He was wearing this net thing over his head though.” Their conversation is interrupted by Mary shuffling through, she grabs her needles. Arthur’s expression falls again, his gaze follows her out, an odd type of sadness masked behind his eyes. 

**** 

The two men step out, Charles pats Taima’s neck in greeting, the mare nickers as he grabs her reins. 

“Hope you’ll be comin’ back some time soon.” Arthur steps closer to the horse.

“Sure. You sure you’ll be alright, Arthur?” Charles asks, swinging his leg over the horse. 

Arthur laughs. “ ‘course I’ll be. Just a crush is all, no reason to worry.”

“You sure?”

“Who do ya think I am? She’ll be out ‘before you’re back, it’ll… pass.” he hesitates on the word. 

Charles nudges the appaloosa to a trot and leaves, glancing back at the other man, left standing in the dust. Arthur turns his gaze to the window and catches a peek at her, sitting there, working hard on another one of her projects. She tilts her head and her eye twitches. 

She’ll be gone soon, she’ll be gone and there isn’t a damn thing I can do.

Arthur steps back inside and she springs up from the spot, tying off two treads and snipping them as she steps over. She pulls him down and ties a black scrap of fabric around his neck. It wasn’t what she was working on before, he notices. 

“Did your friend leave?” she asks. Arthur nods as she adjusts it around his neck. “ ‘m glad to see you ain’t a real hermit just a, hm, a hermit of opportunity.”

“Can’t be a real one with ya here.” he forces a chuckle. “ ‘sides, ain’t fun like that, I don’t mind the company.”

“He'll be coming over again soon?”

“Dunno, maybe, why, do you want him to?”

“Not really.”

He gives out an airy laugh, “Oh, he'll definitely be hurt if he hears that.”

“No, not what I meant. He's a nice feller, but it's just a little bit strange with someone else here y'know?”

“What'd ya mean?”

“Guess I'm just used to being alone with you.”

A warm feeling blooms across his chest. Could she really enjoy being here with him?

Arthur swallows, calm down, she just said she was used to it. It doesn't mean anything.

“Huh, thought you'd be getting sick of my face by now.”

“Probably would have if you weren't so handsome.” 

Suddenly he doesn't know where he should be looking at, and his hands feel awkward hanging besides his hips, but he doesn't know where to put them. He looks away, hoping she isn't able to see his flushed cheeks under the dim light.

“Flatterer,” he mumbles. She smiles and stands on her tiptoes to give his cheek. He has never told her, but it's his favorite way to be kissed; quick, chaste, but sweeter and more intimate than any other kiss. He can almost close his eyes and pretend it's a gesture of something more than mere habitual affection.

He realizes he's still standing at the door while she has already sat down at the edge of the bed, folding her outer clothes. He slowly makes his way towards the room to join her.

“He's not gonna visit for a while. We'll be getting plenty of alone time,” he says, playing with her hair, which she has just let down. Her curls fall onto her shoulders adorning the outline of her face. He twirls a strand around his index finger, feeling its smooth silkiness.

“Good, more fun with just you and I here, isn't it?” 

“How so?” he asks with a knowing smile. The eager hands prying his collar open and the wild kiss that follows it are the only answers his need.

[amnenome]

If I was a better writer, I would make a fix that retells Sabine’s journey from her exile to return to her clan through the perspective (and maybe a bit of au) of the Odyssey. Hear me out:

We begin from the moment Sabine is cast out from her clan. While this is the largest point of divergence from the Odyssey (Odysseus begins his journey home a conquering hero at the end of the Trojan War), the objective between the two is the same. The point, always, is to go home. Both will be changed by the journey

So Sabine is 13 years old, and let’s say it takes her the same 10 years it took Odysseus to make his return. Obviously this will encompass all kinds of growth, as Sabine changes from a child alone to an adult capable of returning.

We can maybe mix standard Star Wars plot points in with those from the Odyssey (Scylla and Charybdis, the Cyclopes, Circe, etc. )

For example, I personally think you can easily interpret Sabine’s early career as a bounty hunter with Ketsu as Odysseus’ time on Circe’s island. Both occur early on in the respective protagonists’ stories. Circe offered Odysseus a place of safety and shelter, just as the Black Sun was a place where Sabine could gain money, security, purpose. Ultimately though these promises were false- to stay would give up parts of who they were- Sabine her honor and Odysseus his home. While Sabine was shot and left for dead , this could be an additional angle

I think this just comes down to that I see a lot of similarities between Odysseus and Sabine Wren. Both are lost. Both are intelligent, creative, and crafty (as seen in the Ahsoka show when she unlocks the map, or uses her gauntlet against Shin). Both are builders.

And ultimately both undergo a journey of self-determination in which they regain their destined role in society. Odysseus as the head of his family on Icarus, Sabine on Mandalore.

Sabine returns in the end to her family, but made stronger by her journey and what she’s learned along the way. She left a child in disgrace, cast away. And now she restores herself by helping liberate her family from the empire

Her mother maybe we can see as Penelope and the empire as the suitors. Her efforts to protect the clan from the empire can only stall the inevitable.

I just think it would be really fun to retell this with an epic-Homeric-poem influence

[100-yardstare]

Self Insert & F/O Master List

Main Romantic F/O

Dr. Eggman/Ivo Robotnik - Sonic the Hedgehog

Other F/O's

Blinky/Blinkous Galadrigal - Trollhunters

All Might - My Hero Academia

Dave the Octopus - Penguins of Madagascar

King Candy/Turbo/King Candybug - Wreck-It Ralph

Astarion - BG3

Piccolo - Dragon Ball

General Grievous - Star Wars

Ingo - Pokemon

Other Fave Faves (Platonic)

Shank - Wreck-It Ralph

Aerith - Final Fantasy

Launch - Dragon Ball

Tracer - Overwatch

Tron Bonne - Megaman Legends

Shadow - Sonic the Hedgehog

Wheatley - Portal 2

Samus Aran - Metroid

Ridley - Metroid

Ahsoka Tano - Star Wars

OCs

Steven Wheatfield - Started off as a parody version of Human!Wheatley but has grown into his own over the years. I use him in almost all my AUs and give him cameos frequently in my works. He is a British programmer and fills in for my "Smart Guy" roles.

Self Inserts

Atomic Ace (My Hero Academia) - Quirk "Adrenaline". Adrenaline gives her super strength, speed, and overall massive power. After many years she finally reached America's Number 1 Hero in her late 20's, only to lose it months later due to her quirk taking a toll on her body. In her youth, she hung out with All Might and David Shield during Toshi's American tour. All Might and AA both were in love with each other but were to focused on becoming hero's to admit it to one another. That is until AA comes to Japan years later during the show's events.

Kailey "Kat" Terranova (Metroid) - Kat is the Director of Development for Galactic Federation Space Research Station Number 2. In charge of keeping tabs with both the research team and Federation investors, Kat has been working with head scientist Steven Wheatfield to bring to light the transcendence of human minds into Artificial Intelligence. Unfortunately, things go wrong when the base is attacked by Ridley and the Space Pirates, and over the course of the Metroid franchise she becomes their unwilling genetically modified test subject.

Kat (Dragon Ball) - After her dad is killed by King Piccolo during the Piccolo arc in Dragon Ball, Kat sets off on her own with her newfound freedom. Little does she know that she will soon be making company with Piccolo Jr. Set between the end of Dragon Ball and DBZ. Later expands into DBZ as an AU where Kat and Piccolo know the events of the "canon" timeline, which causes Shin to get involved way early on to try and stop Buu and prior threats.

Kailey aka The First User (Wreck-It Ralph) - Is part of a test that sends people to digital space and is lowkey a Tron crossover insert and AU. She is the first person to have physical contact with Programs/game characters, triggering a series of events that lead the world to allow Programs to travel to and fro between digital space and the real world.

Kailey (Pokemon) - Owns a farm in west Unova. During her back and forth to the city after establishing her farm, news of one of the Submas brothers going missing is hard to miss. Little does she know that Arceus is about to use her, too, and soon she will cross fates with Ingo, the missing twin.

The Vulture (Spiderverse) - With her father abandoning her and her sickly mother, a new variant of the Vulture is soon to be added to the Spiderverse. Oscorp, having been experimenting on the poor population of the city, the Vulture is born with large brown wings as a result of her parents exposure to genetic mutagens. While her mother regards her as beautiful, society rejects her, burying her more into poverty. Ultimately, the illness takes her mother, and she seeks revenge on Oscorp and its hedge-funders.

Sarai Daan (Star Wars) - Sarai is a Togruta Jedi Knight and a survivor of the Clone Wars.

Kelda the Wild aka The Skrill Princess (How to Train Your Dragon) - A former hunter-trapper, Kelda once looked up to bounty hunters like Grimmel the Grisly during their youth and sought to appease her starving guild. However, her heart soon pulled her away from that life, and she would abandon all she knew to fight for the dragons, specifically a mother Skrill who left two children behind after she was killed by Grimmel.

Kat/Kailey/Kaleen/etc. (WoW, BG3, DnD, General Fantasy, etc.) - Always a Cleric with light or fire affinities, and always an Elf. Knowledgeable in Apologetics and religious texts of their god/gods and even other gods of their universe, and has a chaotic good alignment.

Kailey (Penguins of Madagascar) - is the human assistant to Dr. Octavius Brine aka Dave the Octopus. She is virtually the only human in the world to know his secret.

Guardian of Comfort (Rise of the Guardians/Guardians of Childhood) - Is the guardian of comfort and spirit of warmth and acceptance. Based on "comfort and joy" in the Christmas tune, she has fire abilities and is associated with candlelight. As a human, she died in a fire protecting the ones she loved, and was chosen by Man in Moon, to continue to provide her comforting presence to lost and despairing children all over the world.

Kailey (Sonic verse) - A human. Boom!Kailey is actually an isekai that gets sucked into the shenanigans of the universe taking place in the cartoon Sonic Boom and serves as the focal point for my other inserts in the many Sonic universes. Main!Kailey is a test pilot, with aspirations to have a "lazy girl job" and has goals to have what Boom!Kailey has. Both versions are in love or married to Eggman and the trend is that in every universe they always get together with him in some form, good or bad.

[in-a-cave-with]

it’s been over half a year and literally no one cares but here’s more of the star wars au

[inukag-archive]

star wars au?

Hello, Anon! While we as a fandom love Star Wars AU's as a concept, unfortunately, there isn't a lot of fleshed-out fanfiction featuring InuKag as the main pairing. We've listed a few below, along with some Space/Star Wars Adjacent fics and hope you'll find something you love. Happy Reading! 💓

[Star Wars AU]

Irredeemable by @boflicker & @anisaanisa (M)

Long ago, in a galaxy far, far away, an orphaned scavenger uncovers a lost relic buried in the sands of Jakku. Thrust into a great war that threatens to destroy everything, he must choose: run from his destiny or face his greatest foe, the infamous leader of the First Order.

But Inuyasha quickly learns war is not as simple as good versus evil, and buried below every mask lives secrets untold.

--

Star Wars AU - Ep.1 by @sankontesu (Not Rated)

 Sleep was not something Inuyasha was familiar with for long.

--

[Space AU]

Kairos by @witchygirl99 (T)

The demon was trying to claw her open.

Closing her eyes, Kagome took a risk. She slammed her hand into the side of its head and whispered, “Sleep.” Her will was strong, vibrant, pulsating in the air. It took one second for the demon to sway, and Kagome unwrapped herself just in time for it to collapse to the ground. She breathed in deep and centred herself, drawing her will back into hiding.

But when she looked up, Inuyasha Taisho was already there.

Even through the visor, he looked absolutely murderous.

--

Aurum Orbis by @boflicker (E)

“Have—have you seen anything like this??”

A lithe figure bent, squinting as she brushed along a golden round plaque.

“Never,” grunted another crouching beside her, their helmets carelessly floating along an impromptu cargo bay, stacked heavily with metal scraps of broken ships.

Wide Mahogany eyes met gold.

“Is this alien?”

--

No Defense by @dawnrider (E)

A new world, a new life. Kagome is working to homestead her land on the relatively new human colony on Terra. Far from Earth, alone, she is determined to build the life her father wanted for her family. Kagome thought she was ready to meet new races from planets she had never even heard of yet. She was not ready for a silver haired, golden eyed, fanged man to pop up unexpectedly on the edge of her land.

--

Objects in Space by @elkonigin (T)

“This is Captain Higurashi of the Alliance ship, Shin-ryoku, and I think--I think something terrible has happened.”

--

A Heart's Abduction by @lemonlushff (E)

She was a normal girl. She had a normal life. Some might have even called it boring. That was until she was hit over the head and woke up dazed and confused on an alien spaceship. Now she's the key to helping the Inu Youkai win an intergalactic war…whether she's dead or alive.

--

Final Frontier by @ruddcatha (M)

The year is 2376. Inuyasha Taisho has been reassigned as the new Tactical Officer to the USS Nobunaga under... Captain Sesshomaru? Join to see how the members of the Inuyasha Crew will handle a long term science and exploration mission as it takes a darker and more dangerous turn. (on hiatus)

--

[Star Wars Adjacent]

The Hidden Hanyō by @fawn-eyed-girl (E)

Higurashi Kagome is the best bounty hunter in Musashi. She takes job after job after job, all in order to help pay off her family's debt.

So when her boss, Miroku, tells her that there's a bounty that would wipe out her debt, she jumps at the chance. Even though Miroku says she shouldn't take the job.

Because the job is for a mysterious and dangerous yōkai, who is searching for a hanyō who went missing fifty years ago.

A hanyō that, it turns out, only Higurashi Kagome can find. Because the hanyō is Kagome's soulmate.

So now, Kagome is faced with an impossible choice: turn him in, collect the bounty, and save her family... Or take him and run.

Which will she choose?