rakhalofthestars

[rakhalofthestars]

would u guys still love me if i cross-posted my boothill x oc fics here 🥀

[rakhalofthestars]

yeha

In honor of Boothill getting a shark themed figurine, I went crazy and analyzed all the shark imagery, and why the shark represents him perfectly :3

First, it's worth listing all the places where Boothill has some form of shark imagery to understand why the animal is even connected to him in the first place. The most prominent feature is that his torso matches that of a great white shark, from the color scheme to the ridges all the way down to the scars (licks). Furthermore, Boothill has sharp teeth (ever since he was a child infact) and got them augmented further after becoming a cyborg. A fun piece of trivia is that it takes around 3000lbs of force to crush a 9mm full metal jacket, the very same that Boothill uses and eats (little freak/pos). A great white sharks bite force can be upwards 4000lbs/2 tons. This means that Boothill also has around the same bite force as a shark!! (Ty draklux_ on tiktok for the trivia <3).

Then of course, there's the spheroid racer from the event which has the same shark design as the red bullet that Boothill spits out in his ult and the racer was even called "Sea Hunter Shark". So that's all the known shark imagery that can be found within Boothill ^^

Diving into the analysis (haha see what I did there...okay.), I'll start with the first thing I've noticed regarding sharks and Boothill. They're both very misunderstood, and there are a lot of misconceptions surrounding both. The most common misconception is that sharks are very aggressive and will attack anything and everything that moves, especially humans. This is a false image portrayed by popular media when the reality is that sharks aren't actually as aggressive as they're portrayed to be and that shark attacks on humans are quite rare. These creatures aren't unnecessarily aggressive and if anything, they will attack when provoked or when considered necessary (such as hunting). And yet, despite the reality, people are still wary of sharks and often find them scary. It's all in line with how Boothill himself is viewed within the game. The IPC pushes out this image of Boothill being a bloodthirsty and trigger-happy thug who'll shoot anyone who gets in his way when that's not who he is. In fact, Boothill himself uses this false image to his advantage to intimidate others and get his way so he can avoid unnecessary bloodshed. Similar to sharks, Boothill isn't as aggressive as the IPC claims him to be. His reputation gets dragged through the dirt, and he gets framed for things he hasn't done, causing people to be wary of him. Not to mention the fact that Boothill has changed his appearance partially for the reason of appearing more intimidating.

Another common misconception about sharks is that they're strong animals but quite stupid or simply mindless killers. Once again, it's very similar to how Boothill sees himself and is seen by others, both in game and outside the game. Boothill himself considers himself to be a bit on the dimmer side due to his lack of a formal education despite the fact that there are multiple forms of intelligence and Boothill is very clearly cunning and smart (also can ppl stop acting like he can't read or write 💔💔 it's been mentioned over and over again that he can).

One thing that I do find interesting is how the media portrays areas with sharks as "shark infested waters" when those waters are literally their home and where they belong. It's so eerily similar to how the IPC considered the locals of Aeragan-Epharshel as "pests" and "savages" that needed to be annihilated despite the fact that it was their home that they were colonizing.

Anywho, let's move on to the behaviors of sharks, specifically great white sharks. Great whites are considered to be stealthy and wary animals as well as strategic hunters, all in line with Boothill’s own behavior. It's already been established that he has a lot of hunting experience (character story 2) and that he's undeniably stealthy (it's a part of hunting after all), plus he's a very guarded man. Trust doesn't come easily after all that he's been through, and it does take a while for Boothill to trust others. Great whites are also typically solitary creatures but are still social and often hunt in pairs or groups, similar to how Boothill used to be a part of a community but is now mainly a lone wolf.

A piece of trivia regarding Great whites is that they need to be constantly moving to breathe. Otherwise, they'll die. It's almost symbolic of how Boothill doesn't stop with his mission for revenge and can't stop because stopping means dwelling on the past, and remembering too much is something he can't afford.

Here comes the long part, which is what sharks themselves symbolize. In spirituality, sharks symbolize endurance, protection, and a will to survive no matter what. Boothill is one of the last remaining survivors from Aeragan-Epharshel and likely one of the only able-bodied survivors, a testament to his endurance and will to survive despite the bombs raining down from the IPC (as well as a bit of luck to survive all that tbh). We also know that Boothill is a protector of innocents as he's a vigilante of sorts. Yes he has his own main mission but that doesn't stop him from donating to charities and inciting riots on planets under the IPCs jurisdiction. Boothill is a man for the people and protects them when he can. Similarly, sharks symbolize leadership and its been established in his first character story that Boothill had earned status and respect for his courage within his tribe, implying he was either a chief or had some kind of a leadership role within his community.

Sharks have also been used as symbols for determination and fierceness, traits that Boothill constantly showcases time and time again. Despite feeling intense amounts of fear, anxiety, and depression, Boothill is still determined to continue his mission of getting justice. He's a fierce man when it comes to his beliefs and very rarely backs down.

Sharks are even used to symbolize the ability to adapt, something that Boothill is intimately familiar with. The fact that he managed to adapt to advanced technology and space travel despite these initially being foreign concepts says it all. Not to mention he was all alone when navigating such unfamiliar territory (aaauugghhhh my baby </3).

Last but not least, sharks are symbols of power. This feels almost poetic as a very big theme in Boothill's story is power struggles. His entire story is about the power imbalance and struggle between a tribe and a mega corporation. Essentially, Boothill is just one single man up against the IPC, but he still fights. Part of the reason behind why he even got a cyborg body is so that he can reclaim power and autonomy over his body and the IPC and we can see how with this new body of his, Boothill is basically a one-man army.

Anywho, that's just what I've observed, and these are the conclusions I've drawn. Someone in hoyoverse's writing department truly loves Boothill’s character to make such beautiful choices of symbolism to represent him.

[rakhalofthestars]

nvm might be later bc I'm gonna have a summer job starting tmrw... takes my cowboy hat off and kicks a stone

i think i might finish writing the final stimuli chapter either today or tmrw... feels a bit bittersweet lowkey

[rakhalofthestars]

i think i might finish writing the final stimuli chapter either today or tmrw... feels a bit bittersweet lowkey

[rakhalofthestars]

squints... I saw a very cool drawing of Boothill when his emoscape got hijacked(??) by Grady during the Fate/HSR collab event and it got me thinking about how this is the second time we get to see Boothill’s emotional state be influenced like this and why it feels almost icky.

Now, the thing about Boothill is that he's a very expressive man. Whether it's his facial expressions, his tone of voice or his body language, it's usually pretty easy to understand how he's feeling.

Now, here's a quick biology lesson. Our emotions aren't only shown externally but also internally as hormones for the respective emotions are released from the brain and course through our entire body. It's why our bodies feel warm when we get embarrassed or angry, cold when we're scared, light when we're happy, etc etc.

For Boothill, the case is different. He's discarded his physical body leaving only his head, meaning when hormones are released from the brain, they're gonna be concentrated in extreme amounts in his head, leaving him very emotionally vulnerable whilst his body stays invulnerable (for the most part).

Boothill is someone who's very big on self expression. He likes to yap, he loves to sing, play instruments and dance, all of which are forms of self expression. While I do believe Boothill has always been this way, I also believe that he's now extra boisterous and brash due to his body rendered incapable of feeling.

Boothill's expressiveness are all signs of his humanity and it's the fact that both with the assistanana from 2.6 and Grady from the recent collab, he's had his emotional state heavily influenced and pressured, that it leaves a foul taste in your mouth. Because at the end of the day, these incidents all play into the seemingly never-ending dehumanization of Boothill.

Incapicating his emotional state makes it easier to disregard Boothill as a human and see him more as a heartless killing machine like the IPC wants people to think with all the propaganda they push out.

Anyways, that's just my interpretation and analysis :3

[rakhalofthestars]

Hands you a beanhill* this one is 4 u ⁠◕⁠‿⁠◕⁠｡

Omg beanhill...I'll cherish this forever, thank you... he looks so adorable. I fear I'm gonna end up squishing and eating him out of cuteness aggression </3

[rakhalofthestars]

lil sneak peek at the vampire fanfic :3

[rakhalofthestars]

i might lowk have to ask someone else to be my beta reader bc I know for a FACT that my bum ahh bsf won't be reading a fic that's more than 3k words long

[rakhalofthestars]

Touch

Chapter 4 of my mini-series Stimuli!

Summary: To be touched means to be vulnerable. Vulnerability is far too expensive for a man like Boothill but when with you, he'd let you touch his very soul.

Tags: Bittersweet, Gender neutral reader, Established relationship, Angst and hurt/comfort, Boothill backstory, Soft Boothill, Boothill deserves a hug, Native American Boothill, Boothill-centric

Warnings: Brief mention and very short description of torture (nothing explicit)

wc: 1,2k

On another planet, in another home, in another life that was not so long ago, there was once a man. A man that used to affectionately be referred to as an oak tree and although his laughter would boom, hearty and light, not once would he ask the people, his people, to stop calling him such a title. Why should he when it was befitting of him? 

The man’s skin was dark and rich like the beautiful oak wood that’d made up the foundation of the homes his people lived in. He was tall like one, sometimes towering over the folks he swore to protect. He was strong and resilient though some would’ve called him stubborn instead. The man stood strong in the face of adversaries and never backed down, being a pillar, a tree that forever gave back to the land he loved so dearly. 

His tribe called him an oak tree for the species stood tall despite the strongest of winds but nobody ever thought to wonder just what would happen when the wind was too much. 

When cannonfire rained from the heavens, the once-proud oak tree crashed into a sea of ashes. But true to its nature, it stood back up only to ground itself unto new soil. Soil made of metal. Soil where its roots could not spread and therefore, leading to a dulled existence. 

And it gave itself a new name. Boothill.

The doctor who had built this metal body had been clear. There was no coming back from the path he had set out to take. Only those who had nothing left for themselves chose to walk amongst the shadows and live in their hatred. 

Back then, Boothill hadn’t cared. His entire life as he had known it had been destroyed in a matter of minutes, all because a single man apparently had the authority to decide what happened to his home. His hatred burned as hot as the sun and it hurt so fucking much that he didn’t want to feel anymore.

So he chose to become a walking contradiction. While Boothill’s heart was still as fiery as the sun he used to feel on his back while feeling the cool grass under his feet, his body became as cold as the snow he was found on as a child. And he wanted it to be that way. 

Certain nights, Boothill swore he could still feel rope chafing against wrists bound too tight, still feel the leather as it cracked down on his skin whilst voices barked at him, demanding for the plans of the resistance. Just when he was convinced the next whip would kill him, Boothill would wake up, panting and hands shaking so hard you could hear the unmistakable sound of metal hitting metal. 

No. To be touched meant to be exposed. Vulnerable. Easy to hurt. Exploit. 

It was something that Boothill could no longer afford. Maybe he should rip out the touch sensors in his system, rip out the wires that served as a poor mimicry of nerves that allowed one to feel. Even the dullest of sensations could be a potential threat. He should. He must. He has to-

“Boothill?” Your voice cuts through Boothill’s freight train of thought. He swallows hard and looks down at your hand clasping his. He couldn’t feel it. Not really. His sensors only registered a dull softness cocooning cold iron, warming them until the rough edges melted into something too achingly similar to what once was.

“Yeah?” He answers, voice gruff and all too quiet.

“Another dream?”

“Nah. Ain’t really somethin’ I’d ever wanna dream of.” “So a nightmare then.” Boothill doesn’t reply. There was no need to. Not when your flesh had memorized the myriad of ways the man would touch you. And right now? He wasn’t touching you with a carefulness that was almost uncharacteristic of him, as soft as a lover’s whisper. He wasn’t touching you with the barely held-back excitement of another job well done or from simply knowing you’re there by his side. His touch wasn’t searing itself onto your skin in a way that had you gasping for more. 

Right now, Boothill was touching you as if you were a lifeline, the only thing left in the aeons forsaken cosmos that he was sure was real. That even if he held you until you were convinced your bones would turn to dust too similar to ash, you’d still stay. 

Wordlessly, you coax the man into laying beside you once more on the soft mattress, shifting and moving until he was practically on top of you. His body drapes itself over yours like a glorified weighted blanket, crushing you not from its material weight but rather, the weight of all his burdens and most of all, the overwhelming safety his touch brings. 

Your hands each move with separate goals. One moves to the forest of snowy locks of hair, feeling the silken strands glide through the gaps of your fingers. The other moves to the grooves and ridges between the various metal plates of Boothill’s back. You trace them, your touch as light as a feather, carving a path that only you were intimately familiar with. A path that led to his heart, beating safely behind walls upon walls of metal. 

Your touch feels like a prayer, an act of worship that grazes against the very essence of his soul, promising love that won’t disappear. Not this time. 

Boothill lays his head in the crook of your neck, skin against skin. He feels the steady pulse of your heart, beating against his cheek. He feels the rise and fall of your chest, the warmth of your body reminding him of days long past.

And with each reminder, comes a familiar ache in his heart. How Boothill yearns to be able to properly touch you. To brush his fingers against your skin when passing by. To feel your kisses when you press your lips to the plates that made up his torso. To feel your warmth like it was the sun he once knew. To touch your hair, rub your back and feel against his palms how you always relax and melt like a dream. Except you were no dream. You were here. You were real. And despite that, you felt like you were just out of his grasp, blocked by armor that he couldn’t shed.

How many years has passed since Boothill had last felt the wind against his skin when he rode on his beloved steed? How many years has it been since he felt the rain fall on his body and cool him down after a warm summer’s day? How many years has it been since he last allowed himself to feel the touch of another?

Boothill knows there’s no turning back from the path he’s chosen to take. He knows this just like he knows the sun will continue to rise, the days will continue to pass and that Schneider can’t run from him forever. But just this once, as the gentle brushes of your fingertips lull him into a dreamless slumber, he wishes he could peel off his sorry excuse of a body and let himself feel your touch. 

So he could be vulnerable with you.

[rakhalofthestars]

chat be honest, am i cooking

[rakhalofthestars]

im trying to write the 4th chapter for the Stimuli series but I have literally no idea on how to write the beginning for it RELEASEEEE ME 💔💔💔

[rakhalofthestars]

scratches head and looks away... I really wanna write an alpha/beta boothill fic but I fear I don't know nearly enough about the omegaverse to confidently write it

[rakhalofthestars]

Lovebird

Synopsis: Chaotic shenanigans ensue when Boothill gets turned into an origami bird as you're forced to wait for him to turn back to normal.

Tags: Boothill x gn! reader, fluff, banter, comedy, cheeky bird behaviour (including a mating dance), boothill is a little shit, based off the new Origami Bird Clash event story, established relationship

a/n: I had a vision when playing the event and ran to get this written in the span of 2 hours, are you guys proud of me

Warnings: None!

wc: 1,7k

When you first met Boothill, you already knew one thing for sure. Trouble followed him no matter where he went. Whether it was in the form of his hat flying off his head into oncoming traffic—which caused a couple cars to nearly crash in their attempts to not hit the idiot when he went to retrieve it—to somehow causing a gunfight to erupt the second he walked into a room, it was undeniable that being with Boothill should come with a warning. 

Aeons above, he’d really meant it when he said danger is his middle name.

For better or for worse, you’d decided to stick with Boothill despite the fact that it meant you had to learn at least 5 different ways to defend yourself in the incredibly likely event that Boothill either got himself or you or the both of you into trouble. It’s not like you could do anything about it. Your fates appeared to be intertwined and there was no doubt in your heart that Boothill would fight tooth and nail to keep you safe.

However, nothing—not even the time Boothill’s body somehow malfunctioned and lost control over his arms— could prepare you for what you were seeing at this very moment.

“Tweet! @$#¤%!!”

“What the fuck?!”

“Oh dear, it appears Boothill’s crassness has rubbed off on you, my dear friend.”

You sigh and turn to Argenti. You’d rushed over from your spaceship to the Radiant Feldspar when you got the redhead’s message. He’d been surprisingly vague over what had happened and you’d been unsure over whether it was due to his usual flowery way of speech but now that you were here in person, you understood why Argenti had been unable to properly explain what had happened.

“So… that’s Boothill?” You point at the black and grey bird that was angrily chirping at the two of you. You were half-convinced that this was all an elaborate prank being pulled on you. Boothill must’ve gotten in contact with one of the Masked fools, surely! How else had he been able to procure such an admittedly cute origami bird that looked just like him? It even had the little twin bullets from his hat and his X-shaped scar for crying out loud!

“That would be correct! It’s a bit hard to explain but-”

“Lemme guess: Boothill got a bit too excited, ran his mouth without properly thinking and this is the consequence.”

“That’s the gist of it, indeed.”

“Yeah, that’s what I thought.”

You scratch at your head, unsure of where to go from here. Argenti had assured you that help was on the way and that there was surely a cure to this mysterious curse that Boothill had been afflicted with… but you couldn’t help but worry. Sure, this may all be a dream but aeons knew what would happen to Boothill’s body in reality if he were to be stuck as a bird forever. 

Penacony was certainly holding up to its reputation as the planet of dreams because this entire incident was for sure a fever dream. There was no other way to describe it. 

You watch as Boothill—Bootbird would probably be a better name now— hops closer to you. Curiously, you stick a finger out and can’t help but smile when he nuzzles against it affectionately. Despite changing forms drastically, his personality stayed the exact same. There was something so incredibly endearing about seeing such a boisterous and headstrong attitude come from a bird that just barely managed to reach your calves.

“Tweet tweet!”

“Patience, dear. Backup is on the way. Maybe if you’d thought before you spoke, you wouldn’t be in such a pickle right now,” you gently chide the man–bird? You weren’t sure how to act towards him… at least until Bootbird flips you off… or rather attempts to. You had to give him credit where it’s due that he’d even managed to make his wings resemble a middle finger. 

“Are you seriously giving me the finger right now? I should just lock you up in a cage, y’know- Wha- Hey!” You hiss, shaking your hand as you feel the sting from Bootbird’s metal beak. The bastard had pecked you! The amount of audacity in such a tiny body had you completely flabbergasted.

“Bad Bootbird! Bad!”

“Tweet! Chirp! *Some truly fowl language.*”

“You take that back right now, you ass! Or I’ll have you sleep on the couch once this shit is over!”

“#@!&%”

“Right.”

– 

“Ninja Dokusha! I wasn’t expecting to see you here!”

You nod at Rappa, unable to hold back a little smile. She’s such an energetic young woman. Almost like a little sister really, especially with the way she looked up to both you and Boothill.

“Fancy seeing you here, Rappa. I didn’t realize you were the backup that Argenti was speaking about. I thought you were on another mission.”

“It’s a stroke of luck! I hadn’t been planning on returning to Pinecany for a while but decided to give some of my fellow ninja students at the Academy a visit!” Rappa explains cheerfully whilst animatedly waving her hands about. “Oh, since you’re here, that means Silvergun Shura must be nearby too, right?”

“Ehh… Not exactly? I mean, kinda? You’ll understand when you see it- Wait, where’d he go?” You look around, frowning in confusion at Bootbird’s sudden disappearance. He was just here a couple minutes ago. Maybe he’d flown off to a corner to sulk for a bit. You had been maybe a bit too harsh on him over his language and irritable state. Perhaps you should’ve been a bit more understanding. You know that you certainly wouldn’t like it if you’d suddenly been turned into an origami bird.

You watch as Rappa and her little motley crew talk to the Trailblazer and the young Xianzhou woman called Qingque, gearing up to perform some form of exorcism. Did the ninja scrolls also talk about exorcism? You mentally noted to ask Rappa about it once she was free. In the meantime, you dig into your pocket and pull out a few bullets. You had a habit of keeping some around in case of unlikely emergencies where Boothill had run out of bullets…. And also because they reminded you of the stupid man. You couldn’t help it! He had a way of getting to your heart that nobody else could ever hope to replicate.

“Can origami birds eat bullets?” you mutter to yourself, staring at the bullets in your hand. Maybe Bootbird would forgive you if you fed him some of his favorite snacks. 

“My dear friend! Mind if I ask for your attention for a moment? Boothill has something he’d like to show you.”

You glance up at Argenti before peeking behind him. Bootbird was peeking out from behind a pillar with that mischievous little spark in his eyes. Both amused and curious over what the cowboy had in store this time, you nod and follow the knight. 

To say you were surprised was an understatement.

“Is… Is he…?”

“Dancing? Yes, he is. I believe considering the fact that he’s now a bird, it’d be more prudent to call it a mating dance.”

This day just couldn’t get any weirder.

You watch with amusement and steadily darkening cheeks at the way Bootbird moved his tiny little bird body in time to an imaginary tune. Was this guy seriously moonwalking now as well?

“Where the fuck did he get that rose from?”

“I let him borrow it. I must say, Boothill is truly someone blessed by The Beauty. Such graceful moves despite the limitations this body must cause!”

“Amen to that.”

You’d been correct in your earlier judgment that Boothill’s new form didn’t change any aspect of his personality whatsoever. Why else would he dance in a circle around you before tweeting and flapping his wings, as if asking you to dance with him? Normally, you’d be a bit more self-conscious over just dancing out of nowhere with an origami bird. But this was Penacony, a planet filled with far stranger sights and this was no ordinary origami bird. It was your origami bird. Your Bootbird. 

Throwing caution to wind, you join Bootbird on his impromptu little dance floor and laugh in surprise when he flies up to your shoulder and gently pecks your cheek.

“Tweet tweet <3!”

“Yes yes, dear. I love you too and forgive you for earlier.”

“Tweet! Chirp!”

“Your dance was wonderful as well. You’ve always been the better dancer out of the two of us, even now. You should know that.”

“Tweet tweet!”

You chuckle, watching Bootbird blush and rub at the back of his neck, as if to say “Aw shucks, darlin’!���.

“You really are a little lovebird, aren’t you?” You quip, affectionately feeding Bootbird a bullet.

“Chirp!”

“Touché.”

–

“Rappa really outdid herself this time with these photos!”

“Shut it, darlin’. I oughtta shoot holes in ‘em.”

“You wouldn’t dare. You love me and Rappa too much to ever do that to us.”

“Dadgum wubbaboo…”

Much to your relief, the origami bird curse didn’t last long on Boothill. Sorry as you were to see the adorable and fat Bootbird go, you couldn’t deny that you much preferred your lover as his usual rootin’ tootin’ cowboy self. Though… you’d have hoped for a warning before Boothill was changed back to normal. The idiot had been perched on your shoulder like a dutiful familiar and once the curse was lifted, both you and Boothill had toppled to the ground in a tangled heap. 

“Aww, look at this one! It's us both dancing!” You nearly squeal in joy. Trust Rappa to use her ninja techniques and sneakily take such a candid shot! “We should totally frame this and hang it up in the spaceship’s lounge!”

“Y’sure ‘bout that, sweetpea?” Boothill sighs and grumbles under his breath when you nod eagerly at his question. 

“It’ll be a nice memory of the day my little lovebird performed a mating dance for me!”

“Speakin’ of… What say you ‘bout makin’ good on that mating dance, if ya catch my drift?”

“Only if you let me put all of these photos of you as a bird on the walls.”

“Anythin’ fer you, darlin’.”

[rakhalofthestars]

sweats and looks away... i was clearing out my inbox and accidentally deleted a request from someone... anon im so sorry 😔

[rakhalofthestars]

boothill and reader on an aquarium date anyone?

[rakhalofthestars]

Pretty Little Baby!

Synopsis: Due to often leaving you alone for long periods of time without meaning to, Boothill gets you a little plushie of himself to keep you company. What he doesn't expect is the jealousy that comes from watching his plushie get all the attention.

Tags: boothill x gn! reader, fluff, banter, established relationship, jealous boothill, soft boothill, reader is a little shit, plushies, overuse of the word "cute" and "adorable" (i tried my best, cut me some slack)

Warnings: None!

wc: 3k

“Oh, here comes the boy! There’s my darling little fella!” Boothill, who had just entered the lounge in your little spaceship, flashes his sharp teeth in a toothy little grin. He scratches his cheek, feeling a little flustered at the affectionate and fond tone in which you were gushing over him. Sure, he may be an intimidating, six foot something cyborg who tends to get trigger happy at times but that doesn’t mean he isn’t weak to being fawned over like this! Especially when it comes from the apple of his eye, you.

“Aw shucks, sugar! Yer really layin’ it on thick, ain’t ya- Oh, forkin’ hell,” Boothill curses. Fooled and ignored once again. He had a feeling Aha was surely laughing it up at his expense currently. Namely because, well, you weren’t fawning over Boothill. Not exactly.

Perhaps it’s best to rewind to a couple weeks earlier to explain Boothill’s current predicament, no?

–

“Aw jeez, darlin’. I’m real sorry, swear on mah hat, I am!” Boothill all but groveled at your feet, desperate to get you to look at him. He could stand anything, from incendiary rounds to lashings but to have the love of his life actively ignore him? That cut deeper than any knife ever could.

“It’s easy for you to apologize but think about how I feel! You said the bounty wouldn’t take so long!” You huffed, lightly jerking your leg in a half-hearted attempt to shake the cowboy off. Aeons above, he really did have an iron grip. Quite literally. 

“It wasn’t s’posed to take so long! Ranger’s honor, darlin’!” “Hard to take you seriously when a man like you doesn’t really have much honor to speak of.” 

Ouch. Boothill winced at that but he was quick to recover. He could be as stubborn as a mule when he wanted to. Not even you stood a chance and that was certainly an achievement. 

“Yer killin’ me ‘ere, sugar… It ain’t my fault the target was so hard to track down! I tried my best to wrap things up clean an’ quick but y’know how it gets with these kinds o’ stuff.” “So I’m just supposed to forgive you for leaving me all alone in the spaceship for nearly two weeks? Do you have any idea on how lonely it gets here? I had half a mind to start talking to the stars!” “Well, I mean… forgivin’ me is kinda the goal here …” “Boothill, I’m being serious!” The man in question sighs. He really had fucked up this time, hadn’t he? He’d promised that he’d take care of a bounty within a day or two, give or take, before returning back to the ship and spending some much-needed time with you. However, one day turned to two and two days turned to three until it became increasingly clear that Boothill would not be showing up for some time. 

You’d tried to send him a message, asking about his whereabouts and how his mission was going but had cursed when you remembered that Boothill tended to keep his phone switched off so as not to jeopardize a mission like a handful of times before… It’s his fault, really. You’d always been telling him to change that godawful ringtone of his to something else. I mean, who the hell wouldn’t get suspicious if they suddenly heard the loud strumming of a banjo out of nowhere?

Regardless, you had tried your utmost to stay patient. You threw yourself into your own work, keeping yourself occupied so you wouldn’t worry yourself to death over your lover or get too worked up over the fact that he’d made a promise to come back as quickly as he could and take you out on several dates. The two of you had been so busy lately with your respective missions. Some quality time where you and Boothill did nothing else except for being the two most insufferable and lovey-dovey people in existence was long overdue. You’d even planned out various outfits for the outings! When Boothill had finally dragged himself back home and sheepishly popped his head into the room that serves as your workspace, you were beyond pissed. Quite frankly, you were patting yourself on the back for not going nearly as ballistic as you had been feeling. Anyhow, that’s what had led up to the cowboy currently clinging to your legs and whining like a lovesick puppy.

“Look darlin’, I know I forked up, okay? I should’a tried to at least send ya a text an’ explain things instead o’ leavin’ ya all alone like this. I know it ain’t easy,” and he really did mean it. Boothill was no stranger to loneliness and knew just how terrifying it could be to drift through the vast cosmos with no hope of getting into any form of contact with someone you knew. He’d been there, done that already, during a time when bombs fell from the skies instead of snow or rain. “Lemme make it up to ya, sugar. I swear that fer the next few weeks, you’ll get to have me all to yerself!”

And this time, Boothill really did make good on his promise. He took you everywhere, from the beaches and aquariums of Lushaka to tasting the most exquisite Xianzhou dishes that the ships had to offer. He wasted absolutely no expense in the hopes of getting that beautiful smile back on your face and so you’d stop being mad at him. His poor bastard heart just couldn’t take any more of your frowns and glares. It’s not like Boothill was particularly hurting for money anyways. Thanks to the multiple bounties and missions the two of you pulled off, he had more credits than he knew what to do with. Sure, they were mainly ill-gotten gains but if they went to good use, such as keeping you happy, then no principles of his were broken and everyone walks away as happy as a gunslinger in an arms store. 

On one of the dates that Boothill had taken you out on, he surprised you with a little something. Something that he had no idea would come back to bite him in the ass. 

“A… plushie?” You raised a brow and prodded at the doll in your hands.

“Right on, sugar! Figured I’d get ya a lil’ somethin’ to make the lonely days a tad more bearable,” Boothill grinned, feeling immensely proud of himself for coming up with the idea. He’ll admit, perhaps it’s a bit egotistical to get you a plushie of himself but I mean, hey. Who wouldn’t want a mini Boothill by their side? He knows he certainly wouldn’t mind. 

“So… you got me a plushie of yourself instead of… Oh, I dunno, learning to keep your promises and balance your work and personal life in a better way?”

Boothill’s toothy smile faltered. Shit, maybe it hadn’t been such a bright idea after all. Stupid, stupid! 

“Now look ‘ere, darlin’. Y’know how it is in my line o’ work. I can’t promise things ‘cause there’s too many movin’ pieces, get what I’m sayin’? I’ll try mah best to make more time fer the two o’ us. I don’t like bein’ away from ya any more than y’do. But… think o’ the lil’ fella as a backup, in case I get caught up in somethin’, yeah? I mean, who can resist this ol’ face, right?” He grabs the plushie and holds it up, his expression matching the plushie’s. You sighed, pinching at the plushie’s soft cheeks. Huh… maybe having a little tiny Boothill around wouldn’t be so bad.

“Alright, you’ve got a point. Now, c’mere and stop pouting,” which was followed by a chaste kiss on the lips. You were just as weak for Boothill as he was for you. 

Truly, a match made in heaven.

– 

That’s how Boothill had now ended up in this current situation. He’s been replaced! By a mini-him no less! It was a severe blow to his ego, to see you being more invested in a plushie of him than the man himself. 

The cowboy wasn’t quite so sure as to how this entire mess had even started! You hadn’t been particularly thrilled with the plushie at first. I mean, at first, Boothill was convinced you’d maybe use the doll as a means of taking out your anger on him with the way you stared at it sometimes. He half expected to walk in to see it turned into a glorified voodoo doll. 

Perhaps it was the giant eyes and the admittedly cute expression on the doll. Boothill had to pat himself on the back. The company that he’d commissioned to make the plushie had impeccable craftsmanship. The eyes, albeit wider than his own, resembled his own to a T, down to his crosshair pupils even! The hair was soft and fluffy, though not nearly as luxurious and beautiful as his own, thank you kindly. The company had even sewn clothes for the plushie that could be taken off and put on along with a matching cowboy hat! They’d certainly outdone themselves.

Boothill squints at the plushie in your hands, gritting his teeth over the way you were peppering its stupid and dumb little face with kisses. Yep. It was definitely the eyes. It hadn’t taken long for its clueless expression to wear you down and render you hopelessly infatuated with it. 

At first, you opted to simply keep it on your bedside table. A while later, you had begun fussing with the plushie’s hat, adjusting it to the side and giggling quietly at the way the doll’s cuteness only amplified when the hat’s brim covered nearly everything save for its big ol’ eyes and tiny mouth. It reminded you way too much of how Boothill himself looked so endearing when he’d hide his eyes with his hat because you’d flustered the poor guy too much. 

From there, it only snowballed once you realized just how closely the plushie had been made in Boothill’s likeness. It even had his chubby little cheeks! You could almost imagine the plushie whining and swatting at your hands the same way Boothill did whenever your urges surfaced! You just couldn’t help but coo at the adorable thing.

“Boothill, look how fucking adorable this little guy is! You can take his clothes off!” You squeal, eagerly showing your findings to the cowboy, who in turn, smiles wearily.

“Yes, hon’. I know… you’ve pointed this out t’me more times than I can count. What’s so special ‘bout bein’ able to take off it’s clothes anyways? If ya wanted me to get naked, all ya had to do is jus’ ask!” He teases, suggestively tugging at his belt buckle. To his dismay, your attention quickly returns to the doll in your hands.

“Yeah yeah, but just look at the fella! He’s got paws!” “Well, I mean… Them silicone pads on mah ten commandments kinda resemble the pads on a paw too.” “The plushie can leave paw prints in the snow! I tried it!” “You… wait, hol’ on just a sec’! When the fork did ya go someplace with snow?!”

“I got bored while you were away on your mission so I thought I’d go do some sightseeing with Minihill!” “You… named it? Minihill?” Boothill wasn’t sure whether you’d either completely lost your marbles or his sound receptors were malfunctioning. It had been a while since he’d performed some proper maintenance on himself after all…

“Yeah! Minihill! You know… since it’s a mini version of you.” “The lil’ fudgehead is only 20cm, sugar.” “He barely reaches your calves, look!”

Boothill sighs and bites back the overwhelming urge to dropkick the stupid thing. It was stealing you away from him! Truly, a crime that he could never forgive. 

Instead, he resigns himself temporarily to his fate and sits down beside you on the couch, an arm draped across your shoulders. At least the smile on your face made up for everything else. You looked so happy, gabbing on about your little escapades with Minihill.

“Oh! What was that for?” You blink in surprise, cheeks flushing over the kiss that had just been planted on your forehead.

“No reason. Ya jus’ look mighty adorable right now. Like a doll.” “Oh, speaking of dolls…”

Boothill rolls his eyes in fond exasperation as you resume yapping his ear off about the charming (“How the fudge is a plushie s’posed to be charming?! It can’t speak!”) manners of Minihill. Really now, he was starting to reach his limit.

The worst of it came when it was time to retire to bed and get a good night’s rest. Boothill was all but ready to get under the covers, cuddle up with you and be lulled to sleep by the sound of your breathing. Instead…

“Why the fork is that lil’ shirtbag in our bed?!” Boothill eyes the plushie of him warily. Aeons above, he could feel his fingers twitching to grab it by its giant head and toss it out of the room. 

“Why not? He’s so soft and squishy! He’s the perfect cuddle partner!” “AND I AIN’T?!”

You roll your eyes at Boothill’s theatrics. Truth be told, you knew exactly what you were doing, being so overly affectionate with the plushie instead of the man himself. You just couldn’t help it! It was way too much fun, watching the cowboy try his darndest to act all nonchalant and uncaring when in reality, he was seething with jealousy. Over a plushie of him, no less!

“Oh come off it, dear. At least Minihill doesn’t sound like a damn motorcycle when snoring.” “Low blow, darlin’. Real low. Y’know I can’t help it,” “Then you’ll understand why I can’t help but spoil the little guy rotten, right?” You giggle quietly to yourself, watching Boothill curse under his breath.

“You lil’ forker… Y’know exactly what yer doin’, stealin’ my sweetheart away from me.” “Boothill, please stop threatening Minihill with your gun.” “I dunno what yer talkin’ ‘bout.” “The poor thing is scared! Look at him! He’s shaking in his tiny boots!” “It’s a plushie, for fork’s sake!” You gasp dramatically, looking as scandalized as a Victorian man who’d just seen his wife flashing her ankles in the town square. Immediately, you clamp your hands down on either side of the plushie’s little ears, as if trying to stop it from hearing the “offensive” remarks that Boothill was making. “How dare you! Minihill isn’t just a plushie! He’s an absolute treasure to society and a blessing from the aeons themselves!” “I oughtta drag yer purdy lil’ ash to the nearest mental asylum- Wha-! Hey! How come that shirt-fer-brains gets so many goodnight kisses an’ I don’t?!” “Because he deserves them unlike a certain someone.” “Hey… c’mon now, sugar… ‘M right here…. Throw a dog a bone, please…” Boothill pouts, watching you pepper the plushie’s face in countless kisses before turning the lights off and going to sleep, plushie in arms and everything. Maybe he should’ve expected this. Maybe you were playing the long game and trying to teach him a lesson on just what happens when a cowboy ends up neglecting the love of his life for too long. They get stolen away by tiny plushies, that’s what.

As he watches you snuggle closer to him, pressing a sleepy little kiss to his cheek and mumbling something about how silly he was when he was jealous, Boothill sighs. Of course. Of fucking course you were getting a kick out of this. Perchance it was high time he got back at you. What was the saying again? Ah, right.

If you can’t beat ‘em, join ‘em.

– 

“Why, butter my fudge an’ call me a biscuit! Ain’t you jus’ a pretty lil’ baby!” Your ears perk up upon registering Boothill’s coos and you pop your head into the lounge. There, right there, sat the cowboy, cradling a plushie of… you?! No… surely not? You shuffle closer, squinting at the doll that looked so comically tiny when engulfed in Boothill’s large, metal arms. It is! It really is a plushie of you! From the eyes all the way down to the clothes! You couldn’t believe your eyes.

“...Whatcha got there?” “Oh, darlin’! Ya really opened my eyes to jus’ how forkin’ adorable these lil cutie fudgepies are!” Boothill enthusiastically shows you your plushie version. You clutch Minihill closer to your chest, scooting closer to the cowboy.

“See? I’m always right.” “Mhm, ya sure are. I oughtta have listened to ya earlier! This lil’ cutie is so soft!”

You can’t help but frown, watching Boothill pepper the plushie’s face in kisses. Fuck. Getting a taste of your own medicine really wasn’t for the faint of heart. 

“You… enjoying yourself over there?” “Sure am, darlin’. Never been better. You?” “Yeah… Minihill is lovely.” “I can imagine.” …

“Okay fine, you win!”

Boothill raises a brow and barks out a laugh. Well, that was fast. He should’ve thought of this earlier. He gently sets the plushie of you aside and tugs you onto his lap until you were straddling him. 

“Yeah? Say it ain’t so.” You glare at him. You toss Minihill so it lands beside the plushie version of you and grab Boothill by the jaw, crashing your lips against his. You feel the bastard grin before snaking his arms around your waist and eagerly kissing you back. He sure had missed this.

“So… what have we learned from this?” Boothill asks, a hint of teasing in his gruff voice. You sigh, still panting from the kiss. If there was one thing that no one, not even his plushie, could replicate, it was the exhilarating thrill and affection that his kisses always gave you. 

“That a plushie can’t replace the real deal…” “Yer darn right, it can’t. An’ fer the record, y’ain’t replaceable either. Them plushies are cute as fudge but they don’t hold a candle to you, sweetheart.” “Mmn… I know. You looked very silly though, being all jealous over a doll.” “Yeh, well you ain’t any better so shut it.” …

“We should totally make our plushies have their own little wedding.”

“Sure, darlin’. Anything you want.”

[rakhalofthestars]

i can totally see boothill being jealous to his very core if you were to give more affection to his plushie instead of him. boothill would be cursing that plushie to hell and constantly be pouting over the fact that he's been replaced and that his replacement is also getting more kisses than he's ever gotten <- dramatic