#im fucking. giddy im five seconds from exploding

[pkmoth]

ohhh my GOD this took so much time but WOOOO BATTLE SPRITES!!!!!!!!!!! HELL YES!!!!!!!!!!! i was Also able to mod them actually In Game which is SO exciting i feel so proud of myself

ANYWAYS UM!!!! heres king lucas hes fine and sane and normal i promise <33333 will yap more about him in the eventual au masterpost once i get this aus loop design drawn :]

party menu | in love and time au tag

[junionigiri]

Boom Clap [bnha: vigilantes one shot]

Story Summary: Haimawari Koichi is quite content spending New Year's Eve alone in his run-down rooftop apartment, but Iida Tensei has other plans.

Relationship: Haimawari Koichi/Iida Tensei

Rating: T

Warnings/Notes: haha wtf is a  warm-up drabble anyways. this isn’t edited but whatever. gonna go back to my other AU in a bit. Happy new year everyone :)

31 December 20XX, 2154H

Haimawari Koichi watches the night sky alone.

He has cans of beer, one of them already open and half-empty in his hand. His phone is out, but apart from taking piss-poor quality photos of the stray fireworks already colouring the night sky in vivid oranges and greens and pinks, it is glaringly quiet. Almost… annoyingly so. But he can’t complain.

Pop is finally spending time with her family and not with some college-aged vigilante, as proper middle school girls ought to. Makoto-senpai is with her older brother too--she managed to pressure him into going home to see their parents after so long.

His college friends wouldn’t step near here, for obvious reasons. And the kinda-friends he’s met as a vigilante… well, Koichi’s kind of dense, but even he understands that inviting Eraserhead for a beer here isn’t the most genius idea.

Knuckleduster… well who knows where he really is right now. Koichi only hopes that he’s alive wherever he is. He doesn’t have a lot of chances to say that he misses that insane master of his, not even to himself.

And… that’s the extent of his friends, he realizes. Those close enough that he can theoretically ask to spend some time with him on his little rooftop in the city, at least.

That’s… kind of sad. But he tries not to think about that too much.

There’s no one else here.

It’s not so bad, he supposes. Life as a college student by day, a vigilante by night isn’t exactly the most quiet. He made up a stupid University-related excuse not to go home to Mom’s because villains don’t take the holidays off (and also he prefers meeting the new year without being slapped silly like a fly). So he should really enjoy the quiet, while he can.

Another stray firework explodes above his head. He tries to capture it on camera, for what it’s worth. As expected, it looks shitty, exactly what you get from a flip-phone camera.

He deletes it.

It’s quiet. A breeze blows by, cold and biting, but his All Might hoodie keeps him warm.

It’s the perfect time for a villain to strike. If he were a villain, he’d strike now.

He looks at the streets below his complex. Come on. Somebody? Anybody?

Nope. Nada. He sighs, and looks up the sky again. Maybe he should patrol, or something? Ah, but during holidays like this, the younger heroes are out and about, on higher alert than on a normal day. If he ran into any of them, he might just be the one to get arrested. Not the best thing to happen to greet the new year.

His phone rings like a bell, startling him. “Ah--”

He flips his phone open. A single message, a short one, but just enough to make his heart flutter.

Tensei Iida (2201H): Happy New Year to you and your family! Here’s hoping that the incoming year is prosperous! Let’s work hard together! - Turbo Hero Ingenium

He’s two hours too early for the generic new year’s greeting texts, isn’t he? He must have thought ahead and sent the message before the signals got congested. Figures that the Turbo Hero is ahead of everyone, even new year’s texts.

Still… Koichi’s smiling a little too wide just receiving a generic greeting. Ah, frickin’ stupid, really--

Their chat thread isn’t exactly brimming with messages, either. In fact, this is the first message in their log. They exchanged numbers ages ago during one of their runs, but there really isn’t a good reason for either of them to send messages to each other. Besides, Koichi thinks that it wouldn’t be good for one of the more popular heroes to be in close contact with an infamous vigilante--who knows when the police might need to check his text records, or something…

Oh… and also, his crippling shyness gets in the way of making a proper human-like text too, let’s not forget about that.

His fingers tap nervously against the keys of his phone, erasing and re-typing and erasing his messages again. Double-thinking whether it’s too eager or too disinterested or just right for him to text now, or in a minute, or in an hour--

What is he going to say, anyway? Blessings to you too, please keep watching out for us? Yeah, let’s work hard together, you on the legal side and me on the dark shady criminal side? Yeah man I can’t wait til we run again, please wear tighter jogging shorts this year hehe jk lol. Oh, wait, is this the appropriate time to confess his crazy gay crush yet? With any luck, the moment Tensei reads it, there’s fireworks in the sky, boom boom and then--

Koichi, no. Just. No.

He inhales, and lets his thumbs fly over the keypad. Happy New Year, he starts out in Japanese, ending with a :) .

Too plain. He deletes that.

Happy New Year, he writes, in English this time. There, that’s not too plain, that might be something that Tensei will at least be a lil bit amused to read. Right. He thinks about it a little more, and adds another :) .

Well. That won’t make any hearts throb. That’s… seenzoned material, that’s not really-- yeah, that’s really boring, even for a generic new year’s greeting that he’s spent a lot of thought on.

A generic new year’s greeting that he’s spent five… ten… fifteen minutes composing already. What the fuck, Koichi. Just say something, anything, just fill up the screen with some shitty fireworks kaomoji and blame it on Pop if he asks about it.

He takes a deep breath. Okay, so… the past year he’s gotten away a lot with being a little more impulsive, right? So just… say what you want, and just let things happen. Most likely nothing will happen, so.

Me: Happy New Year! Thanks for all your help this year. Hope you and your family are doing well, ‘specially Tenya. If you’re patrolling, I hope you don’t run into anyone too dangerous lol~

Before he berates himself for sounding stupid, he presses send. It gets delivered at 2218H.

Okay. Well that isn’t so bad. But the cutesy ~ makes him cringe.

He shuts his phone with a satisfying snap and takes a sip of his beer. Ugh, his face is getting warm, this beer isn’t cold enough! Come on, isn’t it supposed to be winter, where are the bitter biting winds when you need them?

No cold wind comes, only another message. He almost tosses his phone over the side of the building the moment his phone chimes again.

He takes a deep breath, flips his phone open and reads:

Tensei Iida (2221H): Thanks, Haimawari-kun! Tenya’s doing well, he’s with our grandparents outside the city. Just about to finish my shift now tho, so obviously I won’t be celebrating with everyone ^_^’ Are you patrolling too? Try not to get caught, okay?

Ahhh ahhh a real reply ahhhhhhh a blessed smiley from Ingenium, ahhh. He needs to go in and put his head in the freezer.

But he doesn’t--Tensei replied to him really fast, so surely it’s polite to reply to him really fast too. I mean it’s the polite thing to do. A guy on patrol in a quiet city has the means to reply fast, so he should return the favor.

Trying to will his heart not to go doki doki much like a shoujo manga heroine, he struggles to type, Oh, im not lmao theres a lot of you out there and i dont want to spend the new year in prison.

Tensei Iida (2224H): You’re right! That’s a relief. I don’t want to go to Tartarus just so we can go jogging together! ;) Tensei Iida (2224H): so are you with your folks? Out of town?

The winky face, and the implication that Tensei would visit him in maximum security prison should the opportunity arises almost kills him on the spot. Koichi suppresses another urge to roll over the cement tiles of the rooftop and manages to reply:

Me (2226H): nah. naruhata Tensei Iida (2327H): oh. In the university dorm, by yourself? Me (2228H): haha no lmao i dont live in the university. i live up on the roof in that one rundown apartment two blocks away cant miss it Me (2229H): but yeah by myself Tensei Iida (2331H): !!! on new years eve? Me (2232H): yeah? Tensei Iida (2335H): Oh! Well, that’s not good... Me (2236H): lmao do u feel that sorry for me Tensei Iida (2337H): It’s not that! Sorry hahahaha Me (2238H): its ok haha

Well, that’s a little awkward. Koichi doesn’t know what to say next, and when the minutes pass by, the speedy replies suddenly stops. He tries to type out another reply to tell him to change the subject but he has no clue how to proceed.

And then, the minutes pass in silence. There are more fireworks rising in the skies now, building up a crescendo for the bigger ones scheduled for midnight. They’re really pretty, but Koichi’s guts are in turmoil, giddiness making them churn in one direction, and pure anxiety in the opposite direction.

Fifteen minutes later, to his surprise, his phone chimes again.

Tensei Iida (2253H): 16th st apartment complex?

A firework goes boom behind his head. Koichi blinks. Uh. yeah, he types in dumbly.

Tensei Iida (2254H): Ok. Look down. :D

Koichi stares at the message for another dumb second and almost trips over himself rushing to the edge.

It’s a little hard to see since he’s way down there, but Koichi doesn’t miss the shiny silver and blue of Ingenium’s mecha-inspired hero suit. He’s waving up at him, and Koichi hopes that he sees him waving back.

He’s prepared to turn on his heel and run down to meet him, but he sees Tensei hold his hand up, in a gesture for him to stay right where he is. Koichi tilts his head curiously, raises both arms in a confused shrug.

He’s far away, but Koichi sees him give his trademark grin. He goes five steps backwards…

And Recipro-bursts his way up the side of the building.

“Holy sh--”

It’s less than half a minute when Ingenium makes it up and over the ledge. Smoke rises from the engines of his arms and it’s really concerning, but the way the Turbo Hero is just smiling at him with a salute, like he’s in a mission to rescue him from the burning building of his heart just... makes him melt in a stupid puddle without any sense of comprehension.

“Hey there, Crawler,” Tensei says, stepping closer to him.

“Hey,” Koichi stammers out. “Um… that was neat and all, but you know we have an elevator, so--”

The pro laughs. “Yeah, but elevators are pretty slow, and I wanted to see you faster than they would allow me.”

Anyone who is interested is free to canvass Koichi’s corpse of its vital organs. Just. Say the word.

“Yeah, you were… pretty fast, haha.” His voice catches like he’s still in puberty. He clears his throat. “I didn’t know you could run up the sides of buildings. That’s pretty insane.”

“Yeah, I didn’t know I could too.”

“Uh.”

Tensei collapses on the floor, legs crossed and arms waving in front of him like they’re boneless. “You wouldn’t happen to have any juice there, would you? My arms are feeling pretty wobbly, and--”

Aaaah wtf! “Y-yeah, hang on a sec, Iida--”

Koichi glides in his apartment in the speed of light and rummages through the scanty contents of his fridge. He has to dig a bit to find the stock of grapefruit juice at the back.

(Since that incident with the Catbus, he buys a stock of them on impulse and carries a bottle with him during patrols. In the tiny chance that he runs into Tensei and he needs extra fuel, he’s frickin’ ready. And if he doesn’t, well… grapefruit juice doesn’t taste that bad, so…)

He’s back to Tensei in record time. He tosses the bottle to him, and the pro chugs it down gratefully. He instantly looks refreshed at the last gulp, puts down the bottle with an aahhh and only grins at Koichi’s distress.

“What the heck, Iida! You haven’t done anything like that before?!”

He laughs awkwardly. “I’ve run up two storeys before, but--”

Koichi’s apartment complex is, like, ten storeys high. “Y-you could have gone splat or kaboom on the way up here, man! You could have been a really bloody human firework!”

Tensei shrugs. “I didn’t though! This tells me a lot about what I can do with my quirk!”

He’s a little too chill for someone who could have fallen ten storeys down onto the dirty Naruhata pavement, Koichi thinks. He gives him an exasperated look and collapses next to him. “Yeah, I guess, but… you didn’t have to do all that just to see me…”

He grins at him again, leans his head closer to his, like he tends to do from time to time. Koichi reckons that it’s because Tensei doesn’t have a good sense of personal space, but all the same it makes his heart throb painfully in his chest. “I felt like I did. Let me show off from time to time, Haimawari-kun.”

Ahh you cheesy bastard, Tensei, you bleeding show-off. It’s a good thing it’s so dark, because he’s sure he’s a cherry tomato by that time, and he can’t blame it on the half-empty can of beer next to him. “Hah! Sure, do that… I’d show off my new moves to you too if I could. You’re lucky I can’t, you’d feel like a total slowpoke hahaha--”

What the fuck is he saying, he doesn’t know anymore. This back-and-forth shit-talking thing (Makoto insists that it’s flirting, but Koichi disagrees because hah why would Iida Tensei flirt with a guy like him?) is more natural when they’re running out the streets and out of breath from trying to outdo each other. Without the excuse of physical exhaustion to explain away his stammering, Koichi’s a little worried of how brainless he might have sounded then.

Tensei only looks more and more amused, and doesn’t get any less close. “I dunno about that, Crawler. Been a while since we had a real race.”

“Heh, you’re right.” Koichi has been more careful using his quirk in public, out of disguise. He doesn’t wear his All Might hoodies when he’s around Tensei, unless by accident.

A silence falls between them, a slightly uncomfortable one where Koichi is hyperaware of the steadily increasing proximity between them, of the alcohol in his veins, of his rushing pulse. Trying to distract himself, he reaches out for an unopened can of beer and offers this to Tensei, who accepts.

He pulls the tab off the cheap, lukewarm thing, tilts it close to his. “Cheers.”

Koichi nods. “Cheers.”

They take a swig in unison. Fireworks explode above them, spurts of colors in the sky. The shine of the lights above do something interesting over the steel of Tensei’s suit.

“Hey, so… if you want to take your suit off--”

“Hm?” Tensei looks down on himself. “You want me to strip down? I usually expect dinner first, but for you--”

“That’s not what I--” Koichi stammers, as he flushes in an ever deeper scarlet that he doesn’t think is even possible. Ah, how drunk is he, huh? How Asian is he that he would turn this red, just from drinking this teensy amount of beer?

He takes off the metal plates more carelessly than Koichi reckons he should be handling them, and lets them down on the floor next to him with a sound. Tensei looks grateful for the extra breathing space as he leans back to appreciate the growing noise and lights above them. “This is an awesome spot, Koichi. The view’s great from up here, huh?”

“Yeah, you know it.”

(And the younger boy leans back, away from him, and tries not to appreciate how Tensei looks in just that tight black bodysuit thing he has underneath. Lean, broad, muscly, like a Greek god, and...)

A few quiet moments pass by. Tensei finishes a can. Koichi works on his third one and he doesn’t know why he’s suddenly drinking so fast. He coughs a little to clear up his suddenly tight throat. “So it’s weird because you almost died going up here, but thanks for coming up here, I guess… it’s pretty cool being up here, by myself--”

Perfectly content, and lonely, and quite possibly drunk by himself by this time, but not as drunk as he feels right there next to him--

“--but it’s cool not… looking at all the pretty lights by myself this time,” he struggles out. Stupid, really, he isn’t even looking at the fireworks anymore, just the beer can under his nose, like he’s reading tea leaves and begging for some clarity.

“Yeah. I’m glad I invited myself up here, too,” Tensei says gently. “I’m shameless I know, but knowing you’re alone up here, I couldn’t help myself--”

Koichi laughs nervously. “Yeah, you are pretty--”

When he turns his head, Tensei’s nose is two centimeters away from his. His eyes are looking right into his, freezing him in place.

“... pretty,” he swallows, already lost. “... shameless.”

Tensei makes a sound in his throat, so quiet that he can’t hear it among the sounds of explosions, but he’s so close he feels the hit, like he Shooty-Go-Blammed himself in the chest. He might be agreeing or disagreeing but fuck whatever they were talking about, Koichi can’t remember why the small talk matters anymore.

Tensei puts one gloved hand underneath his chin, a lackadaisical grin on his face showing off that sharp incisor that Koichi thinks is very cute. “Pretty,” he agrees.

He feels the change in the air, feels the charge spark in between them, through his eyeballs and his little brain.

They lean in closer. Eyes flutter closed. Koichi’s heart is beating fast and hot and electric.

Lips touch.

Explosions go off in his brain.

Ahhh, Koichi screams in his head, as the sensation of Tensei’s insanely soft lips on his beery virgin ones immediately makes him question reality. One hand goes up to experimentally touch the back of the older man’s head, fingers threading through that soft, dark hair. He pushes a little, nudges him just a little closer to him. The minuscule distance between them practically disappears.

“Ahhh--” This time his mental scream is an audible gasp when Tensei pushes him down on the concrete, supporting his head and back with gloved hands, and continues the kissing with Koichi underneath him.

Sparks of light litter the night air, like violent blooming flowers against the infinite canopy of darkness, in booms and kablooeys and claps and other ridiculous noises. Koichi doesn’t care to wax poetic about them, not when his heart is probably doing the same shit, with Tensei and his warmth is right there above him, feeling so nice and right.

Yeah, he belongs right here, right in his arms. What the hell has he done all year, the blur that is his 19 years of life, before this?

Eventually they have to break the kiss to get some of that chill air between their lungs. They gasp in unison, a dashing smile on Tensei’s face, and a dopey smile on Koichi’s. The older man caresses the side of his face. “Haimawari-kun,” he says gently.

“Yeah? Ah, it’s Koichi, by the way.”

Tensei nods. “Koichi-kun,” he repeats.

That right there is the stuff of dreams. Koichi feels like he’s overheating, despite the winter night. “Hah, is it new years yet, Iida? We should be counting down, or something--”

He gets another sweet kiss on the lips instead. Moments stretch before him. The concrete under him feels like the softest cloud as he allows himself to melt under his touch once again.

“It’s Tensei,” he breathes sensually into his ear. “And… honestly, I don’t care about the time, Koichi, just--”

There’s jovial shouting down at where the city square is, and more light and noise, far away from their rooftop.

“Yeah,” Koichi agrees with a smile. “Fuck that clock.”

They laugh like a couple of idiots, and kiss some more and damn, he could do with more of this in the coming years.

Soon, it’s January. The air is getting a little colder. They spend the rest of the first day of the new year in Koichi’s humble apartment, warmer than either of them could ever hope for.

[imladris-soldier]

Lashes (pt 8)

Bill Williamson is a racist asshole. Everyone knows it. They just punch him and go on about their day. When a Lakota woman joins the gang, everyone expects things to go on as normal, slurs and all, and for a time, it does. But her curiosity gets the better of her, and she finds that hatred is something learned - which means it can be unlearned, if given time, care, and patience. And she has plenty of those… the first two, anyway.

Bill Williamson x OC

The pair kept the change in their relationship mostly to themselves, but the signs were there, and the gang started to notice. It certainly wasn't all at once, but over the next couple weeks, both Bill and Star began getting comments.

As Bill had predicted, Mary-Beth was the most ecstatic, and, in fact, the first to notice at all. One afternoon, she grabbed Star by the hand and pulled her behind one of the wagons, flushed and giggly. “Now, how you gonna hide a thing like that from me?” she whispered, playfully accusatory.

“What are you talking about?���

“Don't you start. I saw you holdin' Bill's hand 'round the fire last night.” She laughed when Star blushed. “Ain't nothin' to be ashamed of! You've gotta tell me everything.”

From there, it was just a matter of time. Star spied across the camp as Charles pulled Bill aside and spoke in hushed, serious tones. The conversation ended with a handshake though, so she assumed all was well and didn't pry.

Dutch caught sight of the pair standing together under the big tree, just slightly too close to pass it off as anything else. Star was the one who met that gaze, and she was rewarded with a knowing wink and a chuckle as the older man turned back into his tent.

Of course, as soon as Sean and Karen found out, the rest of the camp followed soon after. Bill would get claps on the shoulder, usually accompanied by congratulations of some sort, depending on the man. Micah thought, for some reason, that it would go over well if he made a comment about how fucking a native girl wasn't going to earn Bill forgiveness for the things he'd done. It took Charles, Grimshaw, and Bill to pull Star off of him, and the marks she'd left would undoubtedly scar. If his gaze had seemed dangerous before, it was literally the gates of Hell now.

For the most part, the two were met with approval and occasional confusion. Arthur embodied the latter, though as soon as he realized that they were both happy, he just shrugged it off and moved on.

As for Bill and Star themselves, they had their own confusions to work through. Neither were exceptionally experienced in romantic relationships, so they didn't really know what steps to take or when to take them. For a long time, the extent of their physical affection was simply being joined at the hands whenever it seemed appropriate. They sat next to each other a lot, usually about as close together as was physically possible without sitting on top of one another. Which made sitting on top of one another the next logical step.

Bill was sitting at the fire one night with Sean, Uncle, John, and Karen. Star was grabbing herself some coffee, then she made her way over to join them. As she passed in front of Bill, intending to take the seat next to him, he hooked her around the waist and guided her onto his lap. She let him, but once she was sitting, she gave him a questioning look, expecting him to follow up the action with words of explanation. He gave none. In fact, he didn't even seem to realize that she was looking for one. He'd gone right back to the conversation he'd been having. Like it was nothing. And she thought her heart would explode.

Of course, no matter how caught up in each other they were, life around them continued on, sometimes requiring their attention. One hot afternoon, Star was tending to a couple of the horses when she saw Uncle, Arthur, Bill, and Charles headed her way.

“It's a supply wagon,” Uncle was saying. “Full of payroll. But very briefly unguarded, apparently, as it passes through a crossroads near here on its way to join up with the rest of the wagon train.”

“As long as we get paid, or you get shot, I'm happy,” Arthur replied.

“You are a sick man, Arthur Morgan.”

Star handed the reins of Brown Jack to Bill, then looked between them all. “Can I come?”

A brief silence fell before Arthur shrugged. “I don't see why not.”

“Do we really need five?” Bill asked.

“Why? You don't want me to come?” Star replied, climbing onto Rhiannon.

Bill hunched a bit and grumbled, “Well... I...”

Uncle chortled. “Look at 'im! Boy's too embarrassed to admit he's worried 'bout ya.”

“Shut up, you old coot!”

Star chuckled, leaning on her mare's withers. “So, I'm coming?”

“Yeah,” Arthur answered. “Let's go before we miss the damn thing.”

The group rode out of camp, falling in line behind Uncle as he led them to the location. After a moment of silence, Bill, still obviously bitter about Uncle's comment, called up, “How'd you even get wind of this, old man? We only been down here all of five minutes.”

“Well, while you lot been fishin' or playin' lawmen, or whatever the hell you been doin', I been gettin' down to business.”

“Findin' the nearest grog house.”

“Hey, if you don't want in on this Williamson, that's fine by me. Do us a favor: head home and leave us with your obviously better half.”

Arthur sighed loudly. “Give it a rest, you two.”

“Just have a little faith for once, will ya? I've been scopin' jobs like this since you all was knee-high to a grasshopper.”

“Once a decade, maybe.”

“What exactly have you scoped this time?” Star cut in. “I never asked.”

“Wagon with a lockbox passes through here every week. They switch outriders just north of here, but the front wagon's by itself for a stretch before the last run into Rhodes.” He led the crew to a spot just south of the crossroad, then slowed to a stop. “Should be passin' through right up there.”

“When?” Bill complained.

“Soon, Williamson. Chrissakes. It should be due anytime now.”

“We should cover our faces,” Charles said.

Star pulled a black handkerchief from her pocket, tying it around her face the way she'd seen them do it in the past. A part of her felt somewhat giddy at being along for her first holdup, but she knew it could go sideways all too easily, so her excitement was tempered by wariness.

For a moment, her eyes slid to Bill, and she allowed herself a second to feel the emotions stirred up by his worry. It was nice to be worried over, but one thing that was going to have to be clear was her independence. She was not the sort to be left behind just because of a little danger.

“There!” Uncle cried, pointing. “Ya see, gentlemen? Just like I said.”

“What do you want me to do?” Star asked quickly, realizing that she didn't know what role to play.

“We'll keep our guns on 'em, you take their stuff,” Uncle decided simply. “Now come on!”

They rode out, kicking their mounts into a brief gallop to pull up evenly with the stagecoach. “Stop the wagon!” Bill roared. When they showed no signs of doing so, he yelled again. “I said stop the damn wagon!” The coach lumbered to a stop. “Now. Don't do anything stupid, and we won't do anything unkind.”

As the boys held up the driver and his partner, Star jumped off her horse and jogged to the back of the wagon to begin gathering the goods. As she pried into the lockbox, the driver spoke. “Look, I... I don't want to get shot. But this is a mistake. I work for Cornwall Kerosene & Tar... Mr. Leviticus Cornwall.”

“Oh, great,” Arthur sighed while Star froze half way through what she was doing.

“So you know him?”

“Who doesn't?” Charles spat.

Bill laughed. “I hear he's rich enough to share the wealth around and not miss it too much.”

“Oh, he'll miss it,” the driver insisted, voice quivering slightly.

“Get to it,” Arthur said, gesturing at Star.

She went back to work breaking into the box. “Not bad,” she reported once she was in. “At least a thousand here.”

“Is... is that a woman?” the driver asked, meekly surprised.

“Ain't your damn business what she is!” Bill snapped.

Star looked up to assure him she was alright and found his eyes on her. Just as she opened her mouth, his eyes went past her and went wide. “Shit! I see somethin'!”

Somehow, with even more weary resignation, Arthur let out another, “Ohhh great.”

“Let's go!” Charles bellowed as the first of the riders rounded the hill.

Star leaped down from the wagon, shoving the money into her satchel. Rhiannon was already taking steps to follow the others, but slowed her gait just enough for Star to vault into the saddle, and then they raced off.

Bullets whizzed past Star's head, so she practically buried her face in her mare's mane trying to avoid them. Every once in a while, she stole a glance behind to see how much their pursuers had gained. For the most part, they were keeping ahead.

“Nice goin', Uncle!” Bill spat. “Most guarded wagon in god damn history!”

“How was I to know?” the old man cried.

“We got seven or eight of them on us!” Star warned.

As they rode, Arthur pulled out his pistols and started trying to eliminate some of the threat, but the bullets that hissed through the air didn't seem to grow any less numerous. Finally, as the group left the road and took to the woods, they began to shake the riders.

Uncle urge, “Let's get 'em off us and get back to camp!”

“No!” Arthur replied. “We need to find a place to lie low. We can't risk leadin' Cornwall's men to camp!”

“Alright, fine.”

In a fortuitous turn of events, the woods broke onto a small farm with a barn on the edge of the property. “Let's hide here,” Charles called.

They all slammed to a stop, jumping from their horses and sending the animals running. Rhiannon was not quick to leave her rider, looking back in confusion when Star urged her on. “Yé, yeyá.” Please, go. With a mournful whinny, the mare sped off, following Brown Jack into the woods. The outlaws hurried into the barn and out of sight.

“We'll stay here until dark,” Arthur decided. “Then sneak outta here. Charles, keep watch for now. The rest of ya, get some rest.”

Star checked on Charles first, making sure that none of the stray bullets had found a mark. He assured her he was fine and told her he was proud of her. Her hand slipped to make sure her satchel was still at her side, and the money still inside. “Glad to help. I want to do my part.”

“You do your part and then some, Star,” he replied, lips turning into the slightest of smiles. “Go take a minute.”

“That was not the first time I've been shot at, Charles Smith.”

“I know. Me either.”

She smiled and pat his arm before turning and making her way to where Bill had plopped down. She slid down the barn wall to the floor next to him, letting out a sigh as she did so. “Still here then?” she asked, eyes flitting over to him.

“More or less,” he grumbled. After another grumpy moment, he asked, “You?”

“As far as I can tell.”

“See why I didn't want you to come now?”

“I knew why when you said it. Didn't change anything.” She turned her head fully to look at him. “You can't ask me to live this life, then try to protect me from it. I can handle myself. Besides, you don't have a monopoly on worry. You expect me to just hang behind in camp while you ride out here getting shot at? I feel better being in the thick of it with you. That way, I've got your back and you've got mine.”

Some of the anger and tension left Bill's body, and he turned his head to meet her gaze. “Guess yer right.” He paused. “I just don't fancy watchin' you die bloody is all. Don't need no more nightmares.”

“I know,” she murmured, slipping her hand in his.

….

As afternoon faded into evening and evening into twilight, the crew kept it quiet, only exchanging a few whispered words every now and again. Star slept briefly, her head leaned against Bill's shoulder, as the adrenaline of the chase wore off, but mostly the pair just sat in comfortable silence, hands latched between them.

As the night birds and bugs began their song, Arthur stood and looked around. “Alright,” he murmured. “Let's get outta here.”

“Absolutely,” Uncle agreed.

“Shut up, old man.”

“Hey, I was just tryin'...”

“Shut up!” Charles hissed from his spot by the door. “There's a light by the house.”

“Damn!” Arthur breathed. “Al-alright, just keep this calm. See what happens.”

They immediately went silent and crouched behind whatever cover they could find, watching as a lantern approached the door. Someone knocked, then the door creaked open slowly. “Don't shoot!” the person behind the door cried.

“Is this your place?” the man bearing the lantern demanded.

“K-kinda.”

“You didn't hear nothin'?”

“I-I...”

“Go ahead and tell me what you heard, partner. Now.”

The person at the door stammered some more, then admitted, “I heard some noise out by the barn a while ago. Whoever you lookin' for... it ain't me.”

“Better not be. Cooperforth, Lowe, go check out the barn.”

The air in the barn seemed to go solid with tension as two more lanterns began to approach. Star shrunk back into a corner, watching between the wood slats as the murky light crept closer. Had it been only her and Charles, they might have had a decent chance of blending into the darkness, but the others... they practically glowed in the moonlight.

As the lights reached the barn, one of them entered slowly as the other made his way around the back. “Place looks empty enough,” the first said.

“Yeah,” the other replied. “I don't think they're here. Don't see any horses.”

The one coming around the back was passing a little too close for Star's comfort, and she reached out, grabbing the back of Bill's shirt and pulling him further into the shadows. Being the man that he was, he managed to find and step on the only tin can on the floor of the barn. The metal crunched loudly, he yelled an expletive, and everything immediately went to shit.

Charles shot the man at the door, and as soon as the man in the back passed in front of one of the wide windows, Star vaulted over the wall and tackled him to the ground. He struggled for a moment, but her hands around his throat did their work.

Gunfire started up again, and Bill cried, “GET BACK IN HERE!”

She dodged a bullet or two, then clambered back over the wall with significantly less grace than she'd exited. The men around her were aiming out of the barn in every direction, and the wood around them would splinter with a whistle and a crack. The situation was not good.

“Can't you keep your fat feet still for five fuckin' seconds?” Uncle admonished loudly.

“You got us into this!” Bill retorted. “This feller sure don't like gettin' robbed!”

Star pulled her pistols from her belt and began firing into the darkness, aiming for the smoke of other guns. Every once in a while, she heard a cry as her shot landed, but mostly she felt as though she were just wasting bullets shooting at ghosts.

It went on like this for some time, and then one of the lanterns that had been dropped was struck by a stray shot, immediately causing the barn to catch fire. Arthur glanced at it, then called, “Ain't you glad I insisted you come along, Uncle?”

“That's it! I am officially retired!”

Star stood up, unloading one gun into a man who fancied himself brave. “If we don't get out of here, we're charcoal! Anybody got any bright ideas?”

“Well, we could...”

“NOT YOU, UNCLE.”

Bill laughed as he ducked behind a support beam. “Now she's gettin' it!”

He was answered by part of the roof of the barn collapsing in, so he ran to the back wall and kicked a hole in a weak spot. “Let's go!”

They ran for the hole, slipped out, then started high-tailing it to the woods. Shots followed them as they ran, smacking into trees and kicking up clods of dirt. Star was naturally light-footed, so she sprang between the trees easily, but her companions were all a bit more lumbering and lagged behind. She didn't realize how far behind until she abruptly realized she couldn't hear them behind her anymore. The gunshots had stopped as well, so she slid to a stop and listened.

The fog that drifted through the forest made for good cover, but it also meant she could no longer see her friends. She could hear them, however, once she focused, and they seemed to have split up. Unsure of what to do, she jogged off in the direction of one pair, but aimed ahead of them. When she saw lanterns in the distance, she scurried up one of the trees with lower hanging branches and waited.

Before long, Bill and Charles passed beneath her, pursued by the lights. She let them go, waiting for their pursuers to cross her path. As the two unwitting men entered her range, she hurled her tomahawk into one's skull, then jumped down onto the other, feeling bones crunch as he shouted. She yanked her ax from the head of the other, then used it to finish off the one beneath her, all while Bill and Charles gaped.

Blood spattered her face and front, and she climbed back to her feet, wiping her weapon down her pant leg. “Where did you go?” she chided. “Where's Arthur and Uncle?”

“Where did you go?” Charles replied. “We looked up and you'd disappeared into the fog.”

They were interrupted by distant gunshots, then a lingering silence. They waited, on edge, as footsteps approached them from the woods. Finally, Arthur and Uncle staggered into view. “Everyone still alive?” Arthur called.

“Just about,” Bill huffed.

“Alright, let's get the hell outta here. Now we got Cornwall on our backs again.”

“It was an honest mistake!” Uncle defended.

“Leave it! Go on, get outta here. All of ya, split up. Stay quiet and move.”

Star held out her satchel to Arthur. “Here's the take.”

“Naw, you hold onto it. Probably safer with you anyways. We'll catch up back at camp and get it split up. Go on. Get.”

As she turned to go, he added, “You did good today, Star. Real good.”

She turned back, warming from head to toe. “Thanks, Arthur.” He nodded and shooed her away before running off in the other direction.

When she spun back to run, she found Bill still standing there. “What are you doing?”

“Waitin' for you!”

“But Arthur said...”

“Ain't nobody on the road gonna suspect us of nothin', long as we keep our heads down. Come on.”

She shrugged and fell into step with him, however, he caught her shoulder and stopped her to pass a discerning gaze up and down her body. “Well, they might if they see all that blood on ya.” He began unbuttoning his blue plaid shirt, revealing the white undershirt he usually wore with it. Once it was off, he held it out to her. “Here. Change into that.”

She took it gingerly, noting the differences in body language from the last time they'd exchanged that particular shirt. They stood much closer together, and their fingers brushed against one another as it changed hands. It made her smile.

She started shedding her shirt, only to find him turning beet red and staring at literally anything but her. Another notable difference from the last time. She used her soiled shirt to wipe off her face and hands, then she swung Bill's shirt on and buttoned it up. It was still much too large, but it was comfortable that way, especially after the stress of the day.

“Good?” she asked. He nodded, rubbing the back of his neck, then walked on. She hung her shirt on her satchel, between the two sides of the strap and jogged a couple steps to catch up.

The first part of the journey was spent in silence, but Star could feel an anticipation from Bill, like he had something sitting on the tip of his tongue to say. It didn't come out for a long time, but she was content to wait until it did.

The moon was setting by the time he spoke, and they were maybe halfway back to camp. “You... you did do good. Real good.”

“So... does that mean you'll bring me along on more jobs?”

“I dunno. Maybe.”

She let that sit for a moment, then gently pressed, “You can't hide me away now, just because we're... whatever we are. I'm still my own person, and I get to choose the level of danger I put myself in. Ok?”

He nodded. “Yeah. Alright.”

She stepped in front of him, hands on his chest. “But. It does mean something to me that you want to protect me.”

He looked down at her, and for the first time, she realized that something was deeply bothering him. Far more than she had initially understood. Her hands fell back to her sides, and her expression lost all of its playfulness, replaced by concern. “What aren't you telling me?”

“Nothin'.”

“No. Not nothing. What is it?” She thought back over the last few hours, and her memory landed on something: his face when she'd killed those two men. At the time, she'd simply read it as surprise, but looking back... he was horrified. She'd been taught the trick of hiding in trees by her father, and she'd seen the tactic used against animals and army alike. It was a key ambush strategy. “Tell me.”

He sagged slightly, apparently unable to deny her despite not wanting to talk about it at all. “It was dark. We was marchin' through the woods – last stretch before camping. They... they came from everywhere. Trees, rocks, the damn clouds. Rainin' Indians, and them Indians had knives and hatchets – quiet, deadly, and near invisible. Couldn't see 'em comin' for ya. All you could hear was the screams.”

Star stood there, allowing her imagination to run with his words and her regret at calling forth this memory to run through her veins. “I... I'm sorry. I didn't...”

He shrugged her off and walked around her. It felt like another diversion so he wouldn't have to complete the story, so she called out, “Tell me the rest!” He didn't respond, so she snapped, “Bill Williamson, you tell me the rest!!”

He froze, tensed up, then spun around and came back shouting. “You wanna know the rest? You wanna know 'bout the feller that... well... you wanna know how it felt to watch him crumple under the body of some big brave with a knife and see his blood spray everywhere? How it felt tryin' to choke the life back into his damn neck?”

She stared at him, missing an essential detail amid the horror. He seemed to realize this because he slowed down, took a deep breath and revealed, “I ain't never felt 'bout no one the way I felt about him. Not... not 'til you.”

Understanding smacked Star like a stampede, and her heart squeezed in pain. “Oh,” she breathed, feeling tears of sympathy well up.

“They kicked me out 'cuz of him. Well. That, and that time I tried to kill someone for speakin' ill of 'im. Coulda court martialled me. Just... dishonorably discharged me instead. Didn't want to deal with it. I shoulda been shot by firin' squad.”

“For loving someone?”

Several expressions crossed Bill's face. One was a scoffing scorn, then shocked confusion, and then just pain. Unadulterated pain. “Why ain't you tellin' me off? Tellin' me I'm some sorta freak?”

She blinked in confusion. “For... for loving someone?”

“A man! A man, damn you.”

“Among my people, we are free to love whom we will. At least... we were before the white Christians came. But my father always tried to teach me the old ways. Your love for this man was no less valid than... than whatever it is you feel for me.”

Bill looked like he wanted to fly apart at the seams as well as melt and disappear into the earth. He was a bundle of nervous energy combined with the crushing weight of grief and guilt and fear that he had been hiding for years. Star just stood at a distance, waiting to see what would happen.

His hands rubbed down his face, accompanied by a shaky sigh, then hung limply at his sides. “Why can't you just be like everyone else?” he murmured, shrugging sadly. “Why couldn't you just hate me like I wanted you to?”

“You didn't do a convincing enough job,” she replied.

He let out a small laugh. “Right. Nevermind bein' hateful and mean and ornery without reason. Wasn't enough.”

“But... it wasn't without reason. That's what I saw in you. That's why I couldn't hate you. You're just... not as mysterious as you seem to think you are.”

Bill laughed again before wiping away an errant tear. “Oh.”

Star held out her hand, and after a moment, he stepped closer and took it. “I'm sorry for your lost love. And I know I'll never be him, but...”

Bill shook his head and cut her off. “I-I don't want you to be. I just want... I just want you to be you.”

“Ok. I can do that.”

“Thank you.”

He pulled her into his arms, wrapping them around her and lifting her into the air slightly. She put hers around his shoulders and leaned her head against his. Absolutely nothing had gone as she expected that day, but sometimes that was the only way things should go.

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