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Another one for my Hinata “I’m gonna finish them before this year ends” collection.

I really liked Neji and Tenten wearing a konoha sweater here so I’m thinking I could do more with the kunoichis and some others.

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Title: (for now) The Sin Eater

Tag-list: @pe-ersona​ - just ask to be included or removed to the list!

Genre: Contemporary Supernatural (sorta), Romance (the slowest slow burn who’ll ever burn), Found Family

Current status: 49k words, unedited, no chapters word-vomit. In other words: First Draft

Synopsis: Eliott’s job is simple: absorbing people’s sins after their deaths so they can be at peace. Leading a quiet and lonely existence in his cabin on the edges of town, his life changes completely when he receives a watch, a letter and a mission.

Excerpt: “It’s not real, this thing of not looking sin eaters in the eyes. It’s made up. People are just scared. Scared to see their mistakes on someone else’s face, someone who hasn’t made any mistakes. You’ll tell James, right? You’ll tell him to look you in the eyes…”

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Different WIP from the previous one, but…

- Claire would start looking for firewood to make a smoke signal

- Rosie would be taking care of Theo, who would undoubtedly have done something stupid and injured himself

- Maglor would take Luc and Harrison and teach them how to hunt.  Also at night he would sing, and tell them stories, and stop them all from killing each other/going insane.

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Rating: Current Chapter: PG (language), Series: up to Mature
Categories: Western AU / MSR / WIP
Total WC: 1478


I’m hoping, as long as inspiration stays with me, that I’ll post updates every Monday and Friday. 

Tagging: @impulsive-astrophile@baronessblixen@suitablyaggrieved@today-in-fic


Grey Canyon, Colorado

Mulder peeked out of Madam Hall’s office about an hour later–the girls had all headed back to their rooms, thank God.

Shuffling into the main dining room, he noted the woman, Dana, sitting on her own at a battered corner table with a mug and a newspaper, glasses perched on the end of her nose. He wondered who, exactly, this woman was. Clothed in an all-black dress with her hair tightly bound, she belonged more in his father’s library or a chapel instead of this place. There was a spark in her eyes that spoke of intelligence and something else that was strangely familiar to him. When he’d asked the madam about her, she’d only blown smoke in his face and, stone-faced, told him that he would need to ask her himself, if he was so interested.

He was.

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