#if he got each of his limbs tied to a different horse who all ran in different directions

[corvidcall]

im gonna be honest i am really struggling w the whole submarine meme cycle. i know theyre rich people who paid to get on a deeply unsafe submarine to go down and gawk at a pile of rusted wreckage that once held other rich people, and they should have known better, and that it seems so obviously like a death trap

but also. idk. theres no way those people didnt die in the most horrific way i can image, and even if theyre bad people who brought it on themselves.... i just really dont think it's that funny overall, and the fact that every other post on here and ALSO on twitter are just people memeing about it is making every single social media deeply unpleasant to use.

[ssadumba55]

Damsel In Distress (Velma Dinkley X Reader)

Request: how about something with Velma where the gang is investigating some odd happenings at an abandoned amusement park? everyone splits into pairs to explore and she and the reader are paired together, and they eventually end up with the culprit chasing them and reader gets really protective of her. the gang catches the guy but Velma asks why reader was being so defensive, and reader accidentally blurts out that they love her and don't know what they'd do if anything ever happened to her. thanks! :)

“Alright, everyone! Let’s split up and look for clues!”

There was a loud groan from Shaggy and Scooby as the blond male said his signature line. Most of the group didn’t mind being split up, but the two ‘fraidy cats almost always ended up with the monster chasing them. Splitting up was the worst part of investigating mysteries for them by far.

“Don’t worry guys, the sooner the monster chases you, the sooner we can get out of this creepy place,” you grinned, hands on your hips. There was nothing like a good mystery for you and ever since you’d run into the gang, they’d become more frequent. Something that Shaggy and Scooby also liked to complain about.

Shaggy crossed his arms over his chest in a show of annoyance, but didn’t say anything else as Fred began splitting the six of you into teams.

“I’ll go with Daphne to check out that creepy coaster Scooby thought he saw something earlier, Velma, (Y/n), why don’t you two head over there?” Fred jerked his thumb in the direction of the other side of the abandoned amusement park. There weren’t many structures still standing in that part of the park, but there was an antique carousel that had you intrigued.

There was something about carousels you loved, and even better, this was a mysterious carousel!

“Like perfect! Scoob and I will check out the abandoned restaurant!” Shaggy volunteered himself. If there was one thing that could get the two reluctant members moving, it was food. Even possibly stale food.

The group split up into the three teams, each wandering off in their own direction. Even though the lot of you knew this would only last for a short while, until Shaggy and Scooby were inevitably chased out of their food comas by some monster.

“You think those kids really saw a monster out here?” You asked Velma, climbing onto the abandoned carousel and moving through the horses with practiced ease. Something about the carousel made you nostalgic, even though you hadn’t really rode them much as a kid. Maybe it was the amusement park as a whole that was making you nostalgic.

You went to plenty of those as a kid.

Velma adjusted her glasses, looking up from her laptop screen with an indignant snort. “You and I both know that monsters don’t exist, (Y/n).”

You shrugged. She was right. In all the time you’d been mystery hunting together, not one had turned out to be a real monster. It was always just some weirdo in a costume. You supposed in a way that was a cruel irony, humans were after all the biggest monsters out there.

Velma went back to studying her laptop screen, she carried that thing everywhere. Even, apparently, abandoned amusement parks. You took the time while she was distracted to study her.

A lot of people would argue that she wasn’t really attractive, but you begged to differ. Sure, she didn’t dress up like Daphne or put on loads of makeup, but the brunette was charming in her own way. She was the smartest in the gang, even smarter than you. You had always loved the way her eyes lit up when she was onto something, how excited she got when she realized she’d solved the mystery.

She was usually the first one too, because she was so smart.

Yeah, okay. So maybe, just maybe you had a crush on Velma Dinkley, but what’s so bad about that? She’s attractive! Her hair is really nice and her eyes shine so bright behind those glasses and the freckles…

“(Y/n)? Are you listening to me?” Her voice shocked you back to reality. Oh god, had she been telling you important information pertaining to the case? And had you missed it because you were too busy thinking about her freckles?

You opened your mouth to respond, already trying to form an excuse for why you hadn’t been paying attention when a massive shadow formed behind Velma. It was huge, twice or maybe even three times the size of you both, with glowing red eyes and long snaking arms that were reaching….

Reaching for Velma!

There was no hesitation from you, grabbing her hand and pulling her towards you, just out of reach of the monster. The long limbs collided grasping onto nothing but thin air, as for Velma she was startled and dropped her laptop. She made a move to go back and grab it but you pulled on her hand, leading her away from the monster.

“No time! We can circle back and grab it later!” You called over your shoulder, eager to put distance between you and Velma and whatever that thing was. Admittedly, you felt foolish as you ran from the exact thing you’d all been searching for since you’d got here. You’d never taken yourself for a runner, which was a good thing because Shaggy and Scooby pretty much cornered the market for that in the small group dynamic you all shared.

Still, here you were running. It was so out of character you almost wanted to turn around and go back. But you needed to keep Velma safe, that was the top priority.

The yells and screams you and your friend were making as you ran must’ve alerted the rest of the group. Fred, Daphne, Shaggy and Scooby came running (of course, once they saw the monster, Shaggy and Scooby quickly joined you).

There was a lot of panicked screaming and yelling, at one point Velma and Shaggy ran smack into each other, causing her glasses to fall. She immediately went down for them, bringing you down with her because your hands were still intertwined. You grabbed her glasses and she gratefully put them back on, the two of you laying breathless on the ground as the sounds of Scooby, Shaggy, Daphne and Fred’s panicked voices filled the air around you.

It was unspoken that neither of you wanted to move. So you just waited until the yelling stopped, then the two of you climbed to your feet and walked over to where Fred had successfully managed to catch the monster.

“Like, what’s with the hands? You guys aren’t still scared of the monster are you? Fred’s got it all tied up!” Shaggy pointed to you and Velma’s joined fingers. Immediately, the two of you flushed and separated.

In order to distract the group from the awkwardness, Velma stepped forward and unmasked the culprit. Who turned out to be the two kids who had told you guys about the amusement park. They explained their plan to the group, but you were barely paying attention.

“We would’ve gotten away with it too, if it weren’t for your meddling!” The taller boy huffed after realizing they’d been caught and would be in a lot of trouble for this.

The gang made their way back to the Mystery Machine. Another successful mystery in the bag, Shaggy and Scooby are furthest ahead, ready to get back to their precious Scooby Snacks. Not far behind them, Daphne and Fred walk, laughing to each other about something you can’t hear.

You and Velma bring up the far rear, walking a ways behind everyone else.

“Were you doing that on purpose?” She asked as the two of you walked, finally breaking the slightly tense silence between the two of you. It had settled there after Shaggy had pointed out your hands and hadn’t left the entire time.

You were slightly confused about what she was talking about, then realized. “Oh! The hands- no. I’m sorry, I forgot we were-”

“Not that, (Y/n). You were purposely shielding me from the monster back there,” as the two of you walked by the carousel, she bent down to pick up and dust off her laptop that had been laying there forgotten the entire time, “I don’t know if you know this, but I’m not some damsel in distress. I can handle my own out here, I’ve been doing this a long time, you know.”

You were taken aback by her words. Of course you knew Velma could handle her own, that was one of the reasons you liked her so much. She was the smartest person in the room and she knew it, there was nothing that could get past her. She was also the toughest, not tough in the way Fred was but she was definitely her own kind of tough.

“I know that, I didn’t mean anything by it… I-”

“You don’t take me seriously.” She put the words in your mouth and you felt your face heat up, that was not what you had meant at all!

“Velma, no, I-”

“Then why don’t you do the same thing for Daphne. Or Fred. Or Shaggy.” She crossed her arms over her chest. She was sure she had you figured out, so sure she had gotten to the bottom of this mystery. You almost wanted to agree with her just so you could see that light shine in her eyes as she pulled you back to the van to tell everyone else. Then they’d all never let you live it down.

As you were thinking this through, she took it as an opportunity to keep on rambling. You were tired, it had been a long night. It’d surely be an even longer night, because you probably wouldn’t be stopping again any time soon and Shaggy and Scooby would be hyped up on Scooby Snacks-

“I LOVE YOU, VELMA DINKLEY!”

You cut her rambling off, the words echoing through the abandoned amusement park. Up ahead, Fred, Daphne, Shaggy and Scooby froze, turning back to look at the two of you.

For once, Velma was speechless, so you decided to continue.

“And I wouldn’t be able to forgive myself if I let something happen to you. I know we just met less than a year ago and I know that mystery hunting isn’t a very romantic setting, but despite that I fell in love with you. You’re right, it’s different when Shaggy is being chased by the monster, because I don’t love him. If something happened to you, my world would shatter, it would be MY fault. If something happens to Shaggy that’s just another day out mystery hunting.”

Tears were burning your eyes, threatening to fall. There she had made you say it. She had made you say it all.

You didn’t even realize your hands were balled into fists at your sides until something nudged one of them and you realized Scooby had made his way back to the two of you. He’d seen you distressed and was offering his comfort. You placed your hand on his head to let him know you were okay.

“I had no idea,” the girl dressed in orange said softly from across you.

The amusement park was dead silent. Not even the other members of the team dared to speak and risk another outburst.

After a few tense moments, where everything you’d said hung weightily in the silence, Velma reached out her hand and took the empty hand of yours that wasn’t occupied with petting Scooby. She smiled softly, squeezing it gently.

“I’m sorry you thought that I thought you were a damsel in distress,” you smiled awkwardly as the two of you walked to join the rest of the gang, Scooby at your side.

“I’m sorry I thought you thought I was a damsel in distress,” she smiled guiltily, “I should’ve had more faith in you.”

As the two of you approached the other three, Daphne rolled her eyes.

“Will you two just kiss and make up already, we need to get back on the road or we’re going to miss that show Fred got us tickets to!”

“We can’t miss that! Like, I hear the food there is out of this world!”

“Reah, rout rof rhis rorld!”

You felt your face heat up, looking over at Velma. She shrugged and leaned over. Inches from your face, she stopped leaning forward quickly and pecking your cheek before bolting the rest of the distance to the Mystery Machine. Fred and Daphne climbed in the front as you pushed Shaggy out of the way to follow Velma in.

“Hey! That wasn’t a real kiss! You owe me another one!”

“(Y/n), we’re dating you can have as many as you want.”

[blinder-secrets]

Ring Girl - Part 2

part one

ao3 link

a/n: i can’t believe after 3 years i’m finally continuing this... i genuinely feel so good about it, i hope it was worth the wait

Bonnie woke before you, as he often did. He could’ve left you sleeping, slipped away without stirring you at all, but his softness wouldn’t let him. It never did. He’d told you once that his day couldn’t go right unless you welcomed it in and, after that, you’d stopped complaining. You let him wake you when he wanted and smiled each time that he did.

‘Dove,’ he said quietly, trailing his index finger across your collarbone. ‘It’s morning.’ He drew a line and then looped it, spinning patterns on your skin until you showed signs of waking.

You were on your back, with him on his side next to you. When you’d said goodnight, you’d been tangled together, wound up like string, but he fidgeted too much; in the mornings, you were always apart again. ‘Already?’ you sighed, talking round the edges of a yawn. ‘What time?’

‘Six.’

With your eyes still closed, you turned your head, flipping your cheek onto the pillow to face him. ‘More sleep, please,’ you murmured.

He laughed, keeping it quiet and light. Soft like he might’ve startled you. ‘I need you to wish me luck, dove.’

You pulled your eyes open then, peeling the lids apart and blinking a few times to keep them so. ‘Why?’ you asked, yawning afterwards. ‘What’s today?’

The room was dim, lit with what little sun could filter in through the curtains, but he still lay there glowing. Dark eyes melting into amber. His skin fresh and pale, and drawn across his cheeks like bone china. Precious, you thought. Gold in name and value.

His hand shifted from your chest and pushed under the covers to link with yours. ‘It’s the first day training,’ he said, lips settling into a grin. ‘They’ve got me in the best gym in Birmingham.’ He pulled the word, stretched it and curled it into his accent, cherished it like it was his for the taking.

Birmingham. The city, the bricks and the smoke. It all held a weight to him that was lost on you.

‘What do you need training for?’ There wasn’t a man in England that could beat him, you’d seen enough of them try.

‘It’s important.’ He pressed a kiss to your shoulder. ‘Rules are different.’

‘Fuck rules,’ you answered lazily. ‘You’re all instinct, Bon.’

He squeezed your hand before letting go. ‘Not anymore.’ He sat up with a groan, pausing on the edge of the bed to roll his neck out, to stretch his limbs and wipe his eyes before standing.

‘Come back,’ you whined, reaching a limp arm over the bed to him. ‘Just for a bit.’

He shook his head as he bent over the chest you both kept your clothes in. ‘I can’t be late.’

‘Who says?’ You rolled onto your elbows, chin in your hands. He began to dress himself as you watched. ‘Your dad,’ you asked, ‘or the Shelbys?’

‘Both, dove.’ He ignored the comment you’d slung beneath the words, the question you couldn’t ask outright. Who are you loyal to now Bonnie? Who’s threats scare you the most? ‘I have to go,’ he said.

‘I think I preferred when you were boxing trees.’

The soft smile you knew so well fell onto his features — the one that said, you’re difficult, but you’re mine. He came back to the bed and ran a hand over your hair. ‘Trees don’t pay, y’know. This is good for us.’

It’s good for Aberama, you thought. ‘Will you be away for long?’

‘Just the day,’ he said. ‘You’ll have me again before it’s dark.’

You smiled and turned to kiss his wrist. ‘I suppose I can keep myself busy til then.’

He nodded, and leant down to return the gesture, planting his lips onto the top of your head. ‘Be good,’ he said as he stood again. ‘Don’t be gettin’ into trouble.’

‘When do I ever get myself in trouble, Bon?’

‘Almost everyday,’ he answered.

You’d only lingered in bed a little longer after Bonnie left, then you’d washed and dressed, and walked from the camp with your hair damp and frizzing. It wasn’t hot, but it wasn’t cold enough to make you regret it either. It’d be dry by the time you got to town. You had thought about getting the train from the nearest station, but why bother when you had all day to waste anyway. The walk would do you good.

When you got to Small Heath, you followed the canals, clinging to those streaks of almost wilderness. They weren’t natural, but it felt nicer to walk them than the roads. You didn’t pass another soul until it took you through the Shelby yard. The old man that owned it gave you a look as you arrived, but said nothing. Perhaps he knew who you were. Perhaps he’d made the connection on his own, from the way you dressed, the way you carried yourself. Bonnie had said their family was Romani too, and kin recognise kin no matter how long ago they settled.

‘Can I cut through here, sir?’ you asked him.

He nodded once, wiping his hands clean on a rag that was already black with coal. ‘One of the Golds, are you?’

‘Not yet.’ You smiled as you veered from the comfort of the canal path to cross the yard. ‘Won’t be long, though,’ you added as you passed him.

He ignored your comment as you thought he would. ‘Don’t make it a habit, love, walking through here. S’a working boat yard, you know.’

You waved a hand over your shoulder in acknowledgment; you never made anything habit.

Following whim had led you to the bookies on Watery Lane. Last time you were there, Finn, you think he’s called, had let you place a bet on the Blinders’ winning horse. You didn’t follow the races yourself, you just did it because you could. Because it had never been offered to you before. He’d suggested a horse and you’d agreed to it, put the few pounds you’d had into his palm and told him to go for it. Make me a winner, Peaky boy.

He wasn’t around this time. When you walked into the betting shop, all the thick-sculled men twisted their necks to look at you. They went quiet like you were a ghost. Like they’d never seen a woman before.

‘I placed a bet,’ you said, to the room, because no one offered to help you. ‘Last week.’

‘Did ya, love,’ said the closest, laughing as he turned back to his work.

You stood straighter. ‘Yes.’ You took the slip Finn had given you, and held it out to him, shoving it under his nose so he was forced to look at it. ‘See?’

The man glanced at you sideways and then took the receipt, sitting back to scrutinise it. ‘Who the bloody hell let you do that?’ he said, accent thick and rolling and itching under your skin.

‘Finn Shelby,’ you told him, knowing it was a weapon to say so. They could be as rude as they liked, but you knew they were all hares in a trap that the Shelbys’ set. You watched the smugness flush from his expression. ‘So,’ you purred, ‘did I win?’

He shook his head, then he sighed. Then he leant forward again and held the paper back out for you to take. ‘No, love,’ he said. ‘You lost like the rest of them.’

Frowning, you took the receipt and shoved it, crumpled, back into your pocket. ‘It was fixed?’ you asked. ‘He had me bet on the wrong horse?’

‘I’m not sayin’ that.’

But he wouldn’t, even if Finn had. ‘He said it would win,’ you continued, your words bitter and souring. ‘Was blessed, he said.’

The man cleared his throat. ‘Can’t be helped.’

It could, in fact, be helped.

‘Do you have a toilet?’ you asked.

You’d sweetened your voice slightly and it had worked, because he nodded and pointed to the back of the room, past the tables and the workers, without even looking up at you. You followed the direction he’d sent you in, and locked yourself into the toilet for long enough to seem convincing.

If Finn could sell you a false bet, you saw no harm in getting back what was wrongly taken from you — with some interest, of course.

When it seemed reasonable, you left the toilet and started back through the shop, eyes scanning the tables as you passed them. It mustn’t have been long since they took their last winnings; the desks were busy with notes, and pennies, and men counting as fast as their education would let them. Seeing a suitably abandoned pile, close to the edge of the nearest, you paused and crouched. No-one was taking any notice of you. You tied your lace though it had never been undone and then, with a final check for safety, you stole the money. Your hand curled over the table-edge, pushing the top inch of notes from the pile and into your waiting pocket. It was so easy you almost laughed.

In a way, you wish you had laughed. Now, you knew it wouldn’t have made a difference, because you never got away with it. If you’d have laughed at the time, you might’ve been able to flirt your way out of the trouble.

After standing, you had started to walk away, nonchalant and pleased with your actions. And then the thin-moustached man, who was previously looking for his cigarettes, had turned back and noticed. You’d been hoping he would be clueless to it. Or at least slow enough that you’d be out the door and down the road before he realised.

‘Oi,’ he barked, ‘where’s that fucking money gone?’

There wasn’t chance to plea your case. Out of everyone in the shop, it could have only ever been you that was responsible. It didn’t take them long to work that out.

You were by the campfire when Aberama found you. He knew already what’d happened, at least, he knew what Mikey had told him, who knew what you had told Allie, which really wasn’t all that much. All you’d said to her, was that you’d robbed some money from the wrong man, and he’d smacked the sense back into you. She didn’t need to know that it involved Shelby business, because Aberama didn’t need to know. The paths that gossip took were predictable enough that you’d accounted for it.

When he got to you, the kettle you’d been waiting for finally hissed and screamed into its boiling point. You reached for it, but Aberama took it off the flames and set it onto the table before you could. No tea for you, then. Just inquisition.  

‘So, what am I meant to tell Bonnie this time?’ he asked, crossing his wrists over his front. ‘He’ll be back soon.’

‘I know.’ You felt inclined to keep your face hidden, choosing to stare down at the fire instead of looking at him. ‘It’s nothing serious,’ you told him. The first slap had been hard enough to split your lip, the second just enough to bruise the cushioning beneath your eye. Everything else was so minor it barely left an ache.

‘Everything is serious to him, girl.’

You nodded.

‘This will hurt him,’ he said.

‘I know,’ you agreed. He didn’t want to hear anything else from you after all. ‘I’ll deal with it.’

‘You will.’ He stepped closer, and dipped his head so you couldn’t help but look at him. You didn’t find him threatening, just chilling. Unreadable but familiar enough that you couldn’t be scared of him. ‘I won’t have you distracting him now,’ he warned. ‘I like you, but I won’t hesitate to make a choice on his behalf.’

You nodded. He lifted your chin with the tips of his fingers to get a proper look at you.

‘You’re too rough for all your sweetness,’ he said. Then, after a moment of consideration, he added, ‘I’ll tell Bonnie before he sees you, but make this the last time, dear.’

After that, you sat on the steps to your wagon, anxiety rotting in your gut, until the sun had began to set. Just before it fell enough to make the sky feel dark, Bonnie came home. He entered the camp whistling, his hands in his pockets, his steps free and bounding. He saw you from across the way, but Aberama intercepted him before he could get any closer.

Guilt bit at your ankles as the joy went from his shoulders and into the mulch, his high from the day’s training lost once he heard of your own stupidity. You watched his brows pull together. His hands left his pockets in fists. The worst part of it, was knowing that it could’ve been avoided. You could’ve taken your failed bet and left, could’ve gone home and read, and waited. Could’ve lay down and listened to him gush about the fights he’d had. Instead, you had to watch his buzz harden into anger, and sit under the weight of his gaze as he approached.

When he got to you, he was mute. His jaw set and unset.

‘Bon,’ you started, looking up at him, ‘before you say anything—‘

‘No, dove,’ he stopped you. He folded his arms and then unwound them again, fidgeting in the way he did when he tried to keep himself calm. When he tried to put words before actions. ‘I told you to be careful,’ he said. His voice was so taut it was almost a whisper.

You exhaled heavily. Not in a sigh, in deflation. You dropped your head but he lifted it again, his hand so light against your cheek that it may as well have not been there. It was the intention more than the grip that brought your eyes back to his. While he scanned your face, you sat vacant, waiting for the disapproval to load onto his features. His thumb moved to hover over the cut in your lip, his eyes dark and scrutinising.

‘Who was it?’ he asked pointedly, still talking through the catch of his teeth.

‘No one.’

‘Don’t do that.’

‘Bon,’ you pushed his hand away, ‘it’s like you said, they’re less forgiving in the city. I know that now.’

He wasn’t satisfied. He knew you too well, knew you were smarter than getting caught for pickpocketing. ‘I’ll ask you again, who was it?’

Rolling your eyes, you looked away from him. You couldn’t lie to his face as easily as you could with others. ‘I don’t know names,’ you said.

‘What happened then?’ he replied, standing limp before you. His gaze bore into the bruise on your cheek. ‘Where were you?’

If Bonnie was anything, he was stubborn. The only person you knew other than yourself, that would run a thought into the ground, let an idea posses him until he found whatever it was he wanted. You closed your eyes for a moment, knowing the next words to come out your mouth would only make things worse. And yet, there you were, preparing to say them anyway.

‘I took money,’ you said slowly, 'from the Shelby bookmakers.’

‘What?’ The word hissed out of him, piercing the quiet bubble that had previously kept you safe from curious stares. Now, they looked freely, heads turning in your direction as Bonnie continued. ‘Fucken’ what?’ he spat. ‘They did this?’

‘No, no, Bon…’ You rolled your head between your shoulders, searching for something, anything, to say to quell him. ‘It wasn’t like that exactly.’

‘Then how was it like?’ His hands curled up again, rigid and set for striking.

‘Finn gave me a dud bet,’ you explained quickly. ‘I went and he wasn’t there, and they all gave me a look as if I shouldn’t be, and I thought, well, fuck them, I’ll take my own winnings.’

‘I’ll kill ‘em.’

You groaned. ‘No, Bon, I was being stupid. I deserved it, really. I mean, it was broad daylight, in a shop full of—’

‘Those Blinder fucks,' he cursed, turning to pace away from you. He spat into the leaves and threw a hand up to grab the cap from his head. ‘I’m s’posed to be fucken’ one of ‘em.’

‘Bonnie.’ You stood, stepping wide enough to reach him. You grabbed him by the arm and forced him to still. ‘It was a Blinder who stopped it,’ you said.

‘Yeah?’ His eyes darkened. ‘Not soon enough.’

‘He wasn’t there,’ you stressed. ‘When he came, he told them who I was. It’s sorted, Bon, we sorted it.’

You’d apologised to Finn, and he’d done the same. You were both crooks after all. There was too much between them and the Golds to be lost, so you’d agreed with him to leave it there, no bad blood. No revenge needed from either side. It’d be forgotten about before sunrise if Bonnie let it.

‘What’re you gonna do, Bonnie?’ you asked, softening your voice. ‘You go there and all this is ruined. I won’t let you do it.’

His jaw set again. ‘They hurt you, dove.’

‘I know.’ You rubbed his bicep. ‘It’s not worth it, still. Not even for me.’

‘Don’t keep sayin’ things like that,’ he scolded. ‘Always puttin’ me before you.’

His brows folded, and when he pulled away from your touch you let him. He looked upwards, to the trees, then to his feet. He was working through it. Tucking away the anger to consider the repercussions. There wasn’t anything he could do without causing more problems, no punch he could land without throwing the fight. He needed to be in the Shelby’s good books, for Aberama, for his career. He may not have liked it, but it was the truth.

‘Alright,’ he said, after a forced breath. ‘If it’s sorted?’

‘It is,’ you answered. ‘It’s forgotten.’

He nodded tightly. Then, for the first time, his expression faltered, softness melting the lines between his eyebrows. ‘You are alright, aren’t you, dove?’

You smiled, ignoring the pinch as it tugged the scab on your lip. ‘It’s nothing.’

Tutting, he pulled you into his chest, arms wrapping around you tightly. ‘Leave the fightin’ to me, ey?’ He said by your ear, words light and sad all the same. ‘Dun’t suit you.’

The hug was warm, and tight, and he smelt like a football team straight off the pitch, but you couldn’t pull away. You wanted to sink into him, right between the bones, and stay there. Mine, you thought. Mine and yours.

‘I’m sorry,’ you said, the stress delayed and boiling in your chest. ‘I could’ve fucked it up for you.’ You’d acted selfishly. It was pure luck, and understanding, and wilful retreat that kept it from shattering everything he and Aberama had built.

‘Ah,’ he soothed, his palm running up your back, ‘you know we don’t worry ‘bout the past.’

He didn’t but you did. Always, and relentlessly.

‘Here,’ he said, pulling back to hold your face. He kissed you once, gently, careful ‘cause he knew how it’d hurt, and then smiled. ‘I’ve still got to tell you ‘bout me day.’

‘Yeah?’ You leant back into his arms. ‘How’d it go?’

His eyes lit up. They shone in the twilight. ‘They said I’m gonna be a star, dove. A fucken’ star.’

[lunarsaga]

EPISODE 5: The Band of Seven, Resurrected

WELCOME TO EPISODE 5! So far, episode 6 is up on my Patreon already, and episode 7 is in progress. Support me on Patreon to see stuff first!

IMPORTANT: I am starting to integrate the art into the story a little differently! Instead of just visualizing a moment in the scene, the image will replace the lines it's depicting. It'll work more like a hybrid graphic novel, that way it'll flow better. (So don't skip over the art, read it like you would a western comic!)

Reminder: [Dialogue like this is English!]

EPISODE 5, LESSGO! ☆*:.｡.o(≧▽≦)o.｡.:*☆

It was a bit of a long flight between the bone-eater’s well and the spot where Luna last left her sister and her friends.

They were still headed northeast, still trying to find Naraku. But Luna’s supply of ammunition only lasted so long, and she decided she probably needed more medical supplies if they were all gonna make it past this war with Naraku. So she’d gone back to the modern era for a few days, and called Alice to get her connections with other Hunters in Japan—so Luna could make more Sacred Salt rounds without having to explain to international customs why she was getting a bunch of empty shotgun shells, non-native herbs, and a few other assorted (weird) things she needed.

So she’d gone home for a few days. Thankfully, she didn’t have to walk; Airisu (who still objected to Luna calling her ‘Alice’, but agreed to the simple nickname ‘Ai’) in full demon form could fly pretty fast, but she ran out of steam after about an hour. It took them a full day (including rest time) to get back to the village, and the same on the way back.

But before they joined back up with their friends, Luna had a stop to make.

It ain’t hard to miss, she thought snarkily, he’s like a damn homing beacon.

Finally, among all the green of the forests, she spotted a speck of white. Easy. “There they are!”

Ai set them down just behind the little group of travelers—Rin, the little imp Jaken, the big horse-dragon (Ah-Un, Luna believed?), and heading the line was, of course, Lord Fussy Britches himself. Rin spotted them before they touched down, and greeted delightfully:

“Miss Luna!”

The Hunter’s arrival brought the others to a halt, and for some reason, Luna found a very smug satisfaction in the incredibly irritated, over-the-shoulder side eye she got from Sesshomaru. But she paid him no mind; she was here for Rin.

Luna held out her hand, unfolding her fingers to reveal three beautiful pearls, strung on a little leather cord. Each of them glinted with an odd pink sheen and were warm to the touch; anyone with any sort of spiritual senses might’ve picked up on the soft energy radiating from them.

Luna tied the cord tightly at the ends and moved to slip it over the little girl’s head.

“As if she would ever need such a ridiculous thing!”

Luna swore one of these days, she was gonna drop kick that little frog. “Look, dude—”

“It’s Jaken, insolent human!”

“—I’m just looking out for her. No need to burst a blood vessel.”

“What is she to you?”

Luna was actually shocked to be addressed by Sesshomaru himself. He was still giving her the side eye, but there was less irritation and more of… something Luna couldn’t place. Maybe she was flirting with death, but she couldn’t resist.

She stood tall, chin high, and responded: “What is she to you?”

There was the anger: contained, but frigid and harsh as the Arctic behind those amber eyes. Sesshomaru did not answer her, but Jaken sure did.

“How dare you, human! Your nerve is surpassed only by your stupidity to speak to Lord Sesshomaru that way! Surely you wish for death!”

Only sometimes. “Can it, Kermit!” She snapped at him, “I ask because he’s always leaving her alone, with nothing but you to protect her! You, who are half her size and don’t have much in the way of defense!” She moved her challenging gaze to Sesshomaru again, steadfast. “So I ask again, what is she to you, if you leave her with barely any protection so often? Because to me, she’s a friend and I care about her, so I brought her these as a last resort option, in case you’re not around and she needs help.”

There it was, that unreadable expression again. Sesshomaru was definitely incomparable at hiding his true emotions—something Luna could absolutely not stand. Tense silence hung in the air for a moment, before Luna shrugged, holding her hands up.

“Hey, think of it this way,” She said, trying a sly little smile, “You’re a busy guy. It’s one less thing you have to worry about. And if she never needs them, at least it’s a pretty necklace.”

Man, this guy was good at keeping quiet. But now, the icy glare was gone. Luna swore she could see just the tiniest arc of a silver eyebrow before the demon turned back around on the path they’d all been heading.

“Jaken, let’s go.”

Flabbergasted, Jaken tripped over himself trying to follow. “Y-yes milord!”

Grinning, Luna got back down to Rin’s level. “You take care, okay kid?”

“I will! And thank you so much for these— I don’t think I’ll need them because Lord Sesshomaru always comes to save me, but I’ll wear them anyway!”

“That’s all I ask,” This little angel was definitely gonna need it at some point. “But if you do need me, I’ll always be there for you, okay? I promise.”

The smile on Rin’s face could’ve melted the ice caps. “Thank you.”

Luna stopped her as she started to leave. “Hold on, one more thing. Each one only works once before it shatters, so you gotta save them for when you’re really in trouble, okay?”

“Okay, I will! Bye, Miss Luna!” Rin grinned, waving at her friend before hurrying after the demons.

Luna chuckled, turning back to Ai for a second before something occurred to her. “Hey, Sesshomaru!”

He didn’t turn to look at her this time, but he did pause in his walking.

Good enough. “I heard there was something going down in the Northeast—direction of the Ox and Tiger. Something to do with Naraku. Thought you might like to know.” She didn’t wait to see if he heard or registered what she said; she just hopped back on Ai’s back, and the two of them took off.

“I hope you know conflating bravery with stupid pride is more than likely to get you killed one of these days.” Ai said as she lifted into the sky.

“Oh most definitely,” Luna laughed. “But as much of a pompous man-child as he is, you can tell he cares for that girl more than he’s willing to admit.”

“That may be, but he’ll definitely kill you if you keep disrespecting him.”

“That’s a risk I’m willing to take, for Rin’s sake.” Luna’s voice was soft, carried off by the wind. “That little angel’s been through enough, she deserves someone in her corner.”

~    ~    ~

Finally catching sight of their friends again was a bit of a relief for both Luna and Ai. It had been a long couple of days, going all the way home and coming back. Part of Luna hoped they’d get just a little bit of rest before whatever shit hit the fan next, but another part knew the odds on that were pretty low. Still, it was nice to be back.

Kagome was the first to spot them as they flew in. “It’s Luna!”

“Luna’s back!” Shippo proclaimed joyfully.

“Hey, y’all,” Luna greeted as Ai touched down. She hopped off the demon’s back as her friends offered their greetings. “What’d I miss?” She asked.

Miroku was the one to answer. “Quite a lot. It seems that we may encounter a new enemy: the local villagers recently informed us of a group of mercenaries called the Band of Seven. The villagers believe these ruthless killers may have been brought back from the dead.”

With a grin on her face, Luna shrugged at the idea. “Undead mercs, huh? Nothin’ we can’t handle.” She held up her fist for her sister to bump it, and as Ai changed back to her human form, Luna noticed their little group was smaller than it should’ve been. “Where’s Sango?”

Kagome bumped fists with her sister, smiling at Luna’s nonchalant comment. “She went off with Kilala. I sensed a Jewel Shard nearby earlier… so I think she may have gone to look for Kohaku.”

Luna didn’t have time to respond. Off in the distance, she heard the distinctive echo of a sound she was all too familiar with.

Inuyasha hopped up onto a tree limb, hoping to get a look at what was happening. He couldn’t see it, but he sure as hell could smell it. “And it ain’t from just a handful of people, either.”

So much for a second to rest, Luna chuckled to herself as she tightened the straps on her backpack and immediately kicked into gear. “What’re we waiting for, then?”

And off they were, charging headlong into danger as always. Luna could sense something was up; more so than usual. The stench of blood was never a good sign in the first place, but there was something else setting off warning bells. Something she couldn’t put a finger on.

The smell got stronger and stronger, until… they reached its source. Despite the amount of nasty shit she’d seen in her ten years of hunting supernatural monsters, there were some things that still turned her stomach, and seeing a single human being standing in a veritable ring of blood and gore was definitely one of them. His black hair was pulled into a twist; his lips were painted red, he had blue tattoos like tear tracks under each eye, and one side of his kimono was tucked up under his belt. The dude was just squatting in the middle of the carnage, eyeballing the barrel of a matchlock gun like it was his first time seeing one (which, hell, it might be, she thought to herself; in this time, they would’ve only recently been invented). He seemed completely unbothered by the dozen and a half bodies of freshly murdered warriors and their horses surrounding him.

Inuyasha was the one to get to the scene just ahead of the others, calling back over his shoulder: “Stay back! Don’t come over here!”

Instinctively, Luna remained in front of her sister, her arm out to try and block her view. Her stomach was churning, and her hand was poised to pull her gun if needed. No way this guy could be human… right?

“Did… that one person do all this?” Kagome’s voice was a shocked whisper.

It was then that the guy in the middle noticed them. He stood, his sword over his shoulder and his head cocked slightly to the side.

“Are you the one I’ve been looking for?” He asked, a grin on his face as he shielded his eyes from the sun. “Are you Inuyasha?!”

“Got a bad feeling about this.” Luna mumbled, “That guy isn't a demon, is he?”

“I don’t think so,” Kagome uttered back to her, “I don’t sense a demonic aura….”

“How’d you know my name?!” Inuyasha demanded.

He got no answer out of the guy with the sword. Instead, the guy squealed: “You’re adorable!”

A dumbfounded silence fell over the group. Luna glanced around at the others to make sure she didn’t just lose her mind—but no, the general consensus among her friends was along the lines of ‘what the actual fuck?’

“I especially love those fuzzy ears of yours!” The guy continued, licking his lips. “I want them~”

Alright, so this guy was nuts. Luna had had enough of ignoring the bad vibe she was picking up from him. She dropped her bag next to Kagome’s bike and readied herself for a fight: detached the ammo bag and shotgun holster from her pack and slung them over her shoulder, slipped her short sword through one of the belt loops on her jeans, and pulled her shotgun to make sure it was in hand and loaded. She kept her eyes moving back and forth between Inuyasha and the dude with the sword during the next exchange:

“Who are you?” Inuyasha demanded, “What are you after? You don’t smell like a living person, you reek like corpses and graveyard soil!”

No answer.

“Inuyasha,” Miroku said in realization: “Could he be—?”

“Yep,” Inuyasha confirmed, before calling out to the guy with the sword again: “Some villagers were talking! They said some disgusting specter rose up from the grave. That’d be you, I presume!”

Right, zombies, Luna thought to herself; if he really is undead, the Sacred Salt won’t do as much as it would a demon… It’d sting, but what I really need is-… She smirked and holstered her gun again, grabbing a different weapon from the bottom of her bag.

“Are you one of the Band of Seven?!” Miroku asked of the specter as Luna was tuning back in. “Answer me!”

After a long pause as the specter seemed to size the monk up, his response was even worse than before. “Inuyasha really is good looking, but you’re pretty sexy yourself~”

Luna snorted so hard she thought she was gonna eject her brain through her nose. Ai whacked her in the arm as a warning.

“No one minds if I suck him up, do they?” Miroku grumbled.

“No.” Inuyasha said, flatly.

“Hold on!” Kagome said, “He’s got a Sacred Jewel Shard! He must’ve been revived with the power of the Shard!”

“So that was what I was sensing,” Luna mumbled, “but why does it feel off...?”

“Where’d you get the Jewel Shard?!” Inuyasha once again attempted to pose a question to their opponent, only to once again receive a weird, adoring response:

“You know, you’re cute when you’re angry~!”

“Shut up!” Inuyasha shouted, jumping forward and drawing his sword. “Alright, dead man, you’d better start talking to me, and I want real answers!”

The expression on the specter’s face shifted from one of reverence to one more sadistic as he regarded Tetsusaiga. “That’s an interesting sword you have there… let’s see whose is stronger.” He lifted his own sword, making an odd motion around his head and shoulders with it as if he were gearing up for something. “Yours or mine?!”

When he brought his arm down, something that looked almost like a bolt of silver lightning shot from his blade. Inuyasha barely had the chance to block it as it cut an arc through the air toward him.

“Inuyasha!” Kagome called out in surprise.

“Stay back!” Miroku threw his arm out in an attempt to shield the others. “It’s some kind of trick sword!”

“That’s my cue!” Ai shifted into full demon form, jerking her head at the sisters and the little fox. “All aboard!”

Kagome climbed on no issue, but Luna glanced at Miroku, who made no move to follow them. “You coming?”

“I’ll be alright, you keep them safe.” Miroku said, resolute. Not about to argue, Luna climbed on the demon’s back and Ai leapt into the air above the fight.

“You gonna be okay holding all of us after that long flight?” Luna asked her friend.

“I’m fine, it’s the same weight as you with your pack on.” Ai sassed back.

“Yeah well, fuck me for being prepared,” Luna laughed, starting to prep the other weapon she’d brought.

Kagome managed to tear her eyes from the confrontation below to try and see what her sister was doing. “What did you bring, Luna?”

Luna grinned as she clicked the last accessory into place, then turned back to show her sister. “This? This is my baby.” She held up her favorite weapon: it was a fully-customized folding compound crossbow as long as Luna’s arm. She pressed a release on the side, and the arms shot into place, making both Shippo and Kagome jump.

“Whoa!” The fox demon exclaimed, “What kind of a weapon is that?!”

“It’s a crossbow, Shippo,” Kagome explained, “It’s kind of like my bow, but the arrows are smaller and it’s easier to fire.”

“Self-loading, too,” Luna smirked as she strung it up, “The ‘arrows’ are called bolts or darts. This thing can shoot way faster than a longbow, and since we’re dealing with Zombie Harley Quinn down there—” She grabbed a bolt from her ammo bag to show it to them, “—we’re gonna need these. They’re tipped with pure silver. Great for dealing with Vampires, Werewolves, The Undead, and The Unholy.”

Shippo reached out to touch it, but Kagome stopped him, shaking her head rapidly. “It’s safe to assume you shouldn’t touch anything Luna has in her bag, Shippo.”

The kid swallowed nervously. “G-got it...”

Below them, the fight continued. Inuyasha could barely avoid each strike of the snakelike sword, and his opponent only seemed to be having more and more fun.

“What do you think of Jakotsu of the Band of Seven, huh?!” He shouted as he swung the sword once more.

“Not too much!” Inuyasha came back at him with Tetsusaiga, but to no avail.

Kagome gasped. “He needs help!”

“That’s what this baby’s for,” Luna grinned, patting her crossbow. “Ai, can you stay out of reach of the sword but get me close enough to shoot?!”

“It’ll take a miracle!”

“Better start praying, then,” Luna lined up the shot, finger still as stone on the trigger. There was a familiar voice in the back of her head; she could hear her father saying: “Aim for where they’re gonna be, not where they are.”

I know, dad. She tried not to sigh audibly as she managed to get Jakotsu’s head in her crosshairs and pulled the trigger, quick as a viper.

And… almost missed him.

The consecrated silver bolt seemed to burn through the air as it shot just centimeters shy of the specter’s nose and grazed his arm, burning a hole in his kimono. He whipped his attention to the woman who shot it.

“How dare you interfere?!” He snarled, rearing his arm back and whipping his blade toward them.

Luna felt her stomach drop.

“You idiot!” Ai snapped at her, trying to fly out of range of the sword as Kagome and Shippo both clung, screaming, to Luna’s back. Just as the sword arched toward them, there was a familiar cry of:

“HIRAIKOTSU!”

And Jakotsu’s blade was then tangled around the aforementioned boomerang. All three riding on Ai’s back sighed in relief when they saw Sango swoop in on Kilala. Ai touched down just as Kilala did, transforming into her human form and unceremoniously dumping the sisters on their asses.

“Are you all okay?” Sango called over to them.

“We’re fine!” Shippo answered.

“Perfect timing, Sango!” Kagome said.

“Some weapon, Luna!” Ai huffed in the Hunter’s direction. Luna just stuck her tongue at her.

Jakotsu was practically red in the face, shrieking in frustration: “What is with all you vile women?! Can’t you see I’m trying to battle Inuyasha?!” In the same breath, he whipped his sword again, toward Sango this time. The movement freed Hiraikotsu, and ended up leaving a small slice on Sango’s arm as Jakotsu pulled it back.

“Stay out of this!” He continued, “None of you will interfere!”

But their “interference” had served Inuyasha well enough: it gave him just the opportunity he needed to rear back and punch the specter in the face.

“Shut up! I’m tired of listening to your pointless babble!” Inuyasha growled.

Jakotsu grunted as he tumbled back, then rubbed his cheek and pouted like a kicked puppy. “That was cruel…”

“Oh, get over it!” Inuyasha snapped, “Now tell me who gave you the Sacred Jewel Shard before I have to seriously hurt you!”

Kagome and Miroku rushed to see if Sango was okay, but she assured them that it was just a graze; she was fine. Her attention was more on the subject at hand.

“I have a feeling that the shard came from Naraku,” She said, somberly. She looked at Kagome. “When you sensed a Jewel Shard earlier… it was Kohaku. I saw the Saimiyosho around him as well.”

“That means that your brother is still under Naraku’s control…” Miroku said. Sango nodded.

Luna had set her weapon down next to her backpack, and came back with a bandage for Sango’s arm. Her mind was going at a million miles an hour, trying to figure out how the hell they were gonna handle this—first an undead band of Ronin, now they have something to do with Naraku. What was Naraku playing at...?

“Gotta wonder what the hell is next…” Luna mumbled sarcastically.

Seconds later, she would regret asking. A cloud of black smoke poured over the cliffside, drifting right toward them.

Like he knew what was happening, Jakotsu got up and collected his sword. “Inuyasha! You should get out of here while you can! Bye!” And with that, he was just… gone.

“What the hell—” Inuyasha broke off with a startled yell when the cloud reached him. “Its poison!”

“But where’s it coming from?!” Miroku wondered.

“We need to move.” Luna reassembled her bag in less than thirty seconds—side effect of doing it so often. “We can figure out what the hell is going on when we’re safely away from here!”

Why do I feel like we stepped into something huge here? Luna thought to herself as the group of friends moved away from the cloud of gas.

[amazingmb1226]

The Missing Cowboy Bandit pt 1

Hello! So i just wanted to say that this is my first ever Ishimondo fanfic! I came up with this story just today and I needed to start it so yeah lol! I hope you enjoy the first chapter to this wild west au Ishimondo mess! 

The day started as any other would. Ishimaru woke up before the sun rose, the stars still shining in the sky. He stretched out his limbs and grabbed his uniform. Kiyotaka put it on and grabbed something to eat for breakfast then left for work. Simple. But what he has to do would not be easy, nor simple. Ishimaru had to go find his best friend, Mondo.

Oowada had been missing for almost a week, which is not like him at all. Usually, the cowboy criminal would do something stupid than go to the tavern and have a drink or too, than get in a fight. He had never just disappeared, not being the type to run from any type of danger. Mondo must have had a change of heart, that's what Ishimaru would tell himself. After all, wanted posters printed with his name could be found all over the town.  

Ishimaru walked behind his house to the stable, where his white horse was located. He walked in and took it off its lead, mounting on it. Kiyotaka then directed his steed to go, galloping to the center of town where the most crime took place. ‘Maybe Mondo will come back today. He might even turn himself in.” he told himself, trying to stay positive about his current situation. 

                             --------------------------------------------------

Ishimaru dismounted his horse, yelling and clamouring coming from the inside of the tavern. Kiyotaka rushed in, holding his pistol out just in case things got worse. “Everyone stop right now!” He ordered, looking around the crowded establishment. He could see the owner, Aoi, crouching behind the counter of the bar with Maizono and Komaru. He could also see Sakura breaking up one of the fights in the back of the tavern. Everyone stopped, looking at the sheriff. Well, almost everyone. “Who the hell do you think you are, telling us what we can and can’t do?” A man with a rather extreme looking pompadour asked angrily. “I am Sheriff Ishimaru!” Kiyotaka replied, pointing his weapon to the delinquent. Oowada resisted for a moment, then started to walk towards Ishimaru. “That doesn’t mean shit.” Mondo said, looking down at the sheriff. “I don’t listen to no one. You gotta earn my respect first and having that stupid badge on your shirt doesn’t doesn’t mean anything.” Oowada said, poking his index finger on the golden sheriff badge on Ishimaru’s chest. Kiyotaka huffed and looked back up at the rebel. He started to put his gun back in its holster. “And what exactly would someone have to do to earn your respect?” Ishimaru asked, his anger rising. Mondo smirked, crossing his arms. “Meet me at the field just outside of town. 9pm sharp. “ Oowada said. He walked over to a table and slammed some money on it to pay for the drinks he had, shoving past Ishimaru to the exit of the tavern. 

                         -----------------------------------------------------

Ishimaru tied his horses lead to a wooden pole at the entrance of the town, starting to walk around. Not many places were open yet, but there was still always the possibility of something happening in the early hours of the day. He gave quick hellos to shop owners who started to open their businesses. They all happened to notice how off he’d seemed recently though. Usually he would give them a smile and maybe even have a small conversation with them. Now he just mumbled them a quick greeting and maybe waved. They all didn’t know why he seemed so different though. 

No one knew what Kiyotaka and Oowada had, nor could they understand. Why would the sheriff and a criminal associate themselves with each other anyway? But they really were close. When people weren’t around, they would talk for hours, chatting about what their dreams were and anything that came to their minds. Ishimaru cherished Mondo as his best friend, his brother. He cared about him deeply and whenever he got hurt from a fight, the sheriff would always patch him up and reprimand him about his bad choices. Mondo would just roll his eyes and chuckle. How he wished to go back to those times.

“Sheriff, are you alright?” Makoto Naegi asked, tapping Kiyotaka on the shoulder. Ishimaru hadn’t even realized that he was standing still in the street. His eyes were glossy, tears threatening to fall. Kiyotaka wiped his eyes, nodding in response. “Yes I am perfectly fine.” he responded, sniffling. Makoto sighed looking at Ishimaru sympathetically. “It’s fine to be sad sometimes y’know.” he said, keeping his hand on Kiyotaka’s shoulder. Ishimaru stayed quiet, looking down at the dirt road. “You wouldn’t understand. It’s-it’s foolish, really.” the sheriff responded, avoiding looking at Naegi. “Even if it is, it’s best to get whatever is bothering you off your chest. You’ll feel a lot better.” Makoto responded. Ishimaru doubted what he said, sighing. Even so, there was the possibility it could help. “It’s about Mondo.” Ishimaru mumbled.

Makoto nodded, thinking about what that could mean. “Do you want to find him? To bring him to justice or something?” he asked Ishimaru curiously. Kiyotaka hated lying, but that seemed better than telling the detective that he was friends with a criminal. “Yes. I am disappointed in myself because I could not reprehend him before he ran to...where ever he might be now.” Kiyotaka replied. Naegi seemed to believe this, nodding at what he said. “Well, we could probably get some others to help you find him!” he said with a small smile. “No no, that won’t be-” Before Ishimaru could finish, Naegi had grabbed him, leading him further down town. “Come on! We would have to find people and quick! We wouldn’t want him getting even further, right?” The detective said. He sighed and nodded, following behind Makoto. “I suppose so.” He replied with a small frown. Ishimaru had a bad feeling about this, but tried to ignore it.

[drabbleitout]

Chapter 1: A Horse with no Name

( Playlist | Prequel | Ch. 2)

The wound was hindering everything.

The arrow had come out clean and the packed bandage helped, but that didn’t mean it stopped hurting. On top of that, Ira had talked him into accompanying him to a nearby town where he could get treatment and both of them could stock up on supplies. But worst of all was the heat.

Being from the south he was used to humid plains, baked clay and burning sun. So the fact a little noon warmth had him sweating bothered Myghal. He let his horse ride alongside Ira, tender with his shoulder as he pulled off his tunic. Draping it on the saddle, he tugged at his undershirt trying to circulate cooler air. Ira made no snarky comment.

In fact, it had been awhile since he had said anything.

For the past few days there was nothing but quizzical conversations with Ira. Wanting to know about Myghal’s home, the wars he fought in, what sort of weapons he could use. They were odd questions, details no one ever asked. Yet, Ira hadn’t spoke in nearly half an hour.

Myghal leaned forwards in his saddle, casual at first. He pretended to pick something out of his horse’s mane, stealing a glance at Ira. His hood was still on, head slightly bowed, but he made no notion to turn and look. Leaning further still, Myghal stood in the stirrups in hopes of getting a peek under the hood. Ira’s eyes were closed, swaying with each step, mouth slightly open and face lax.

“Are you asleep?” Myghal whispered.

There was a moment of delay before Ira’s dark eyes slid open. He blinked, uneven in a flutter as they rose to the road before them. “I was,” Ira mumbled. “Is something wrong?”

“You’re supposed to be guiding us, for starters.”

“This road leads straight to Felmire. As long as Berma is moving, I know we’ll get there.” His eyes closed again.

“Berma?”

“My horse.” Myghal glanced to the horse, and only then realized it didn’t have a name. “Isn’t always safe to sleep at night, and some of us have been on the road for over a year.” Myghal was starting to realize Ira wasn’t going to let that go, as if it had been his fault he was stuck in the Arctic Ridge.

“How can you sleep and not fall off?”

“Practice,” Ira lifted his head, yawning as he pulled off his hood. He scratched at his short, dark hair, swiping his hand upwards at the back of his head a few times to displace sweat. “So, what were you doing with the Northmen?” It didn’t take him long to start back with questions.

“Fighting. Wasn’t much else to do,” he shrugged.

“If you lived in the south, what are you doing all the way up here? You didn’t just join the Northmen, I take it.”

“No,” Myghal laughed. “I’m a solider back home, and, sometimes, instead of being killed, you’re captured. The other side gives you a choice, that you can join them and turn on your family, your country, or they can get rid of you.”

“And, yet, you’re not dead.”

“They meant sell me,” Myghal glared. Ira considered this, jaw working as he thought. “They wanted me as far from home as they could get me, so I couldn’t help my family anymore. Their solution was to send me to the Arctic Ridge and I was forced to be a solider for a Northmen Warmaster.” Ira was quiet until he glanced up to the sky.

“Why didn’t you merely agree to help them?”

“Turn on my family?” Ira only shrugged, “Because it was my family, the people I was fighting to protect. I wasn’t just going to turn on them just because someone threatened me.”

“But you could have ran from them like you did the Northmen, and you’d be closer to home, wouldn’t you?” Ira looked over, not sarcastic, not cutting, impassive and curious.

“I couldn’t stand the idea of working against my family.”

“I guess that’s where we differ,” Ira shrugged, arranging in the saddle as he reached for his canteen.

“I have this feeling there’s more than that,” Myghal mumbled. “And your family?” Ira hummed a laugh as he took a drink, “would you turn on them?”

“Never had the chance.”

“But would you?”

“Probably.” Ira glanced over, “Oh, what? You’re going to hate me for that? Don’t forget I saved your life.”

“And not out of the kindness of your heart.”

“Not all families are the same. I’m sure you’re not that ignorant.” There was a dark edge to Ira’s tone, a warning. The feathers clipped in his hair caught a breeze and Myghal was hooked on them.

“What are those for?” He asked without any tactic in inserting the question. “The feathers?” Ira stared as he put his canteen away, narrowed eyes never leaving Myghal.

“They’re a reminder.”

“What of?”

“Not to forget.” And that was the line drawn. Ira made it clear when he didn’t want to get into something. He didn’t bother with softening blows or caring if he was too calloused. There were signs, like when a cat arched it’s back or a dog bared its teeth, and Myghal had an instinctual understanding that he didn’t want to know came after warnings. So he let it go. There were other curious things about Ira anyway.

“Alright, where did you get Berma?” He tried instead.

“I stole her.”

“Who would have guessed?”

“I’m sure you’d agree with me,” Ira patted her neck. “Being sold as a warhorse, to fight and bleed for some baron. What do you think? Wouldn’t you be glad if someone came along and flipped the latch to your cage?” It was Myghal’s turn to be speechless. “But I’m the crook, when you haven’t even named your horse yet.”

“Haven’t exactly had the time.”

"Hey!"

Myghal flinched, pain rupturing in his shoulder causing him to grip at his chest. Ira didn't seem to startle. He slowed Berma, head lifted towards the tree limbs.

"Yeah. Hey!" Myghal looked up too, searching the wide limbs for the owner of the voice. Ira made a disgusted noise, turned, and continued on. "No, no, don't leave. I need help!" That's when he noticed the thrashing. High up in the tree was a person, small, short, shawl caught on a branch. Myghal smiled, waving.

"Hello. Are you stuck?"

"They're fine," Ira called back.

"I can't get down." Myghal glanced at Ira, dropped his reins, and carefully dismounted.

"What's your name?"

"Zabiri,"

"Myghal," Ira warned. "Aren't you the last person who should stop?"

"It'll just take a second, quicker if you'd help." But he didn't. He merely turned Berma, letting her graze at the roadside to sit and watch. Myghal unsheathed the hatchet from his saddle. "You have any rope?"

"This is your project." Myghal went over, hand held out. With a deep breath Ira shifted, taking the loop from the saddle to hand over.

"Thanks," Myghal tied one end to his hatchet, knotting it before loosening the loop.

"Whoa, wait, you're not going to throw that at me, are you?"

"Just the limb you’re stuck on," Myghal explained, squinting through patches of sun in search of which limb it was. "If I can hook it, you can pull yourself free."

"This... no, this is a horrible idea!"

"It's a great idea." Ira chuckled.

"No! What if you hit me?"

"Won't, I promise." He let the hatchet hang, giving the rope a lazy swing before bringing it into a twirl. "Just be still."

"Never mind!" Zabiri cried. "Just go!" Myghal hopped into a throw, the hatchet flying up through the limbs. Zabiri squealed, arms thrown over her head and scrunched up as it sailed past her. It hooked a limb above, not the right one, but close enough.

"See there? Harmless." He gave it a tug to make sure it was anchored. "Now, do you think you can grab on and pull yourself free?" Zabiri took a moment to unfurl, peering up at the hatchet. Carefully she reached out, grabbing the rope. There were a number of thin limbs stuck in her shawl, between her and the small pack she carried, and in the back of her coat. Myghal feared she was too tangled to simply pull herself free. But she didn't give up easily. She yanked, pulled, growing frustrated causing limbs to shake. "Take it easy, don't–"

A limb broke and Zabiri screamed. Myghal dropped the rope, rushing forwards as she plummeted. Sliding on his backside he caught her, a sharp pain bursting in his shoulder. It took her a moment to stop screaming. She uncovered her eyes, brushing long, colorful braids from her face. Her complexion was similar to his with warm brown eyes. She reminded him a puppy, an abandoned, lonesome puppy that, in its relief, forgot it had been in danger to begin with. He gave her a squeeze letting her know she was alright.

"Gotcha," he chuckled and then helped her to her feet. She was short. If Myghal hadn't seen her face, he would have thought she was a child. Dusting off her coat she peered up to where she had been stuck in the tree.

"Feel better now?" Ira huffed.

"Yeah, actually," Myghal grinned as he stood, wiping dirt from his pants.

"Horses," Zabiri laughed, approaching Myghal's horse as if it were a well and she had been in the desert for a month. "Oh, what a sight for sore eyes. Do you know how good it is to see a horse?" The shaggy steed took a step back, lowering its head to study her. "Hey there, you're a unique big ol’ guy, aren't you? Look at this coat."

"That horse is a delinquent," Ira warned. "Wanted in the Arctic Ridge for assisting a fleeing criminal." Zabiri tilted her head, looking back to Ira and then Myghal.

"You're criminals?"

"Am not," Myghal glared at Ira.

"A wanted man, right here."

"Yeah, alright." Zabiri rolled her eyes, petting at the horse's nose. "Where are you ‘criminals’ headed?"

"Away from you."

"Come on, Ira."

"Yeah, come on Ira." Zabiri sang, "I might be able to help you, Mr. Smiles."

"Doubtful."

"Felmire, right? Yeah, think that's the name."

"Really?" She scowled. "You must actually be criminals." At that, Myghal turned to Ira for an answer. He got none. "Well, I guess it's better than being out here. Do you mind if I bum a ride?" She grimaced as she said this.

Ira huffed, Berma turning to walk away.

"I don't see why not," Myghal shrugged. She smiled, petting the horse's face.

"Thank you! I have to admit, I didn't want to have to leave after meeting such an adorable guy like this." She giggled, hand running along its side before getting up in the saddle. Myghal pulled down the hatchet, looping it up before joining her. They trotted after Ira, Zabiri happily holding onto Myghal.

"You're bringing that lichen with you?" Ira sneered.

"Just until Felmire. It's not like she takes up a lot of room." Myghal shrugged as Ira rolled his eyes. He pulled his hood back on, keeping quiet. “So, Zabiri, what do you do?”

“I’m a traveling smith,” she announced. “Everything from blades to wagon fittings. What about you? What are you heading to Felmire for? Looking for the Lost Prince?”

“He’s a prince. I’m sure he has plenty of people looking for him.” Ira was cold when he wasn’t curious, and Zabiri was no exception.

“Yeah, but there’s a reward,” She added.

“A Lost Prince?” Myghal again turned to Ira for an explanation, getting fallen shoulders and a sigh.

“Oh, you must be from outside the Empire.” Zabiri leaned around, “That makes sense. Yeah, the Lost Prince is a story about the Imperial Prince who went missing.”

“That’s right, a story.” Ira grumbled, “Clarify, because this idiot will actually believe you.”

“Well, no one’s ever said it’s just a story. Some people do believe it and are still looking for him. The Emperor set out a huge reward for whoever could find him. The story goes, his only son went missing after he found the Empress assassinated. It’s why the Empire has no allies. No one owned up to killing her, so the Emperor suspects everyone.” Zabiri threw her shoulders.

“Do you think, if someone found the Lost Prince, he’d remember who killed the Empress?” Myghal wondered aloud. Zabiri gave a hum that she didn’t know. “How old do you think the Prince would be now?”

“Uh, well, probably a teenager?”

“No and no.” Ira swiped out with one hand, “we are not here to search for some royal brat of folklore. We have enough to deal with as it is. You,” he pointed at Myghal, “get ideas like that out of your head. And you,” he flashed around to Zabiri, brow scrunched and glaring, “stop talking until we get to Felmire. He might have offered to take you, but I have no problem getting rid of dead weight.”

“Alright, alright.” Zabiri huffed, holding tighter to Myghal, “we were just having a little fun.”

“Stop it.”

“Don’t worry, Ira. I know we have to deal with… this first.” He decided against what he was going to say as Ira shot him a look. “Doesn’t hurt to learn a little bit about the area. I’ve never been inside the Empire before. I can’t say I’m not curious.” 

Berma slowed to a stop, Myghal doing the same watching Ira. He was intent on something, staring down the hill without as much as a word.

“What is it?” Zabiri spoke up. Ira only lifted a hand. Pulling the hood from his head he tilted his head. Myghal put a hand to his hilt, straining to hear as well. It was faint; pop of gravel, hiss of dirt, pace of horses. Several horses.

“Myghal,” Ira said with a smile, leisure in turning back to him, “what’s your opinion of the Emperor?” Zabiri scowled but only looked at Myghal in turn, waiting for his answer.

“My honest opinion?” Ira nodded patiently. “He’s a greedy bastard. He’s pushed borders knowing no one’s going to try to start a war with him; the Empire has too much wealth, too many soldiers. They’re encroaching on countries around them thinking no one notices. While I was growing up, we lost almost a hundred thousand square miles to them. Homes, cities, families –and they keep pushing.”

Ira’s smile widened, showing teeth. But it wasn’t a warm smile. It didn’t welcome or give Myghal any good feeling, and instead reminded him of the haunting cackle of coyotes in the night.

“That’s good to hear... very good to hear.” Ira went back to watching down the hill. The thunder of horses was closer. “Have you ever robbed anyone before?”

“What?”

“Robbed anyone?” Ira opened his cloak, digging into the satchel on his side. “You’re tall, strong, you must have used that to your advantage at least once to get something you want.”

“No,” Myghal frowned. “I’m not a thief.”

“Would you like to be?” The smile had softened, Ira offering out a folded scarf. “You hear it, don’t you? That’s a carriage, on this road, coming from Felmire? It’s Imperial. It’s either carrying nobles or funds.”

“No Imperial Noble would be caught dead this close to Felmire.” Zabiri snapped.

“Precisely,” Ira gave the scarf a small shake. The wagon was getting closer, able to hear the way the wheels jarred on the trail. Myghal didn’t like the idea, but it was the Empire. This is what they had been doing to others for decades.

“If it’s not Imperials, we call it off.” Myghal grabbed the scarf.

“You’ll find I don’t waste my time.” He looked to Zabiri, “You, wait here.”

“No!” She wrapped her arms around Myghal, “I want a share.” Ira rolled his eyes, pulling his hood back on.

“Then you best cover up.” He checked with Myghal, nodding at the make shift hood. “Don’t say anything, leave the rest to me.” Berma turned off the road, easy and light down the hill. The road beneath them was much wider, better suited for heavier traffic. Its shoulder was rock, broken boulders that guarded from the lake below. Ira broke a stick from a tree, centering them in the middle of the road. “Do you know how to shoot a bow?”

Myghal didn’t have to answer, watching as Ira flexed a hand bringing a bright blue light into his palm. He grabbed the end of the branch, running the light over it bending and twisting the wood. It became thin and sleek, his slender fingers twisting at the far end creating a string. He took off smaller twigs for arrows.

“The hell is that?” Zabiri squawked, “You a witch? One of them mages?”

“Just something I picked up.” Ira surrendered it to Myghal, letting him string it. A good size and weight, it was better than the hunting bows he had grown up with. But there was something unearthly cold about it in his hand. It was no longer a tree or alive.

The carriage came around the bend, pulled by four heavy horses. There were two riders alongside it, men in armor, helms decorated with long, red horse hair that spilled down their backs. The carriage driver pulled the horses to a slow and the guards pulled out in front. Ira hadn’t mentioned anything about guards. One brandished a crossbow, loading it as the other stripped their blade.

“Out of the road.” The swordsman ordered, but Ira only strolled Berma closer.

“Good evening,” he tipped his hooded head, bringing up his hands in surrender. “We don’t mean any trouble for such dedicated men like yourselves.”

“I said, out of the road!”

Ira brought his hands together in a ringing clap, a flash followed by rolling black smoke. It spread quickly. The crossbow clacked but the bolt never reached them. It was engulfed by the smog, heavy and rolling as it broke apart and took shape as a number of crude, winged creatures. Myghal calmed his horse, the guards not as lucky as they were thrown. On the ground they were tackled by the mist.

Berma strolled forwards.

“What’s inside?” Ira asked, pointing to the young man who sat beside the driver, “Don’t be stupid, my partner here is a flawless shot.” Myghal knocked an arrow, nudging his horse forward. The smoke-like creatures had vanished, leaving the guards groaning and fumbling for bearings. “Come on, hop down.” Ira instructed. The coachman nudged the boy and he slid from the seat. He wore the red and gold of the Imperial banner, constantly glancing at Ira with a squinted, angry glare. His face was still round in adolescence, fleshy cheeks covered in freckles that matched his red hair. He fumbled to open the lock, letting the door swing wide. “Well, look at that.”

Myghal came around, lowering the bow as he peered in. There was nothing besides a trunk, Ira looking over his shoulder letting sunlight fall across that chilling smile. “His Imperial Majesty’s coin.”

“You’re that knave, aren’t you?” The young boy spat, shoulders tense with the fists hanging at his sides. “The Rook.”

“Clever boy,” Ira leaned forwards on the saddle, crossing his wrists on the horn. “So, you still listen to your mother’s fairy tales?”

“That’s just it, sir,” the coachman called back, “he is just a boy. Doesn’t know any better.” Ira tilted his head, dropping the reins and deciding to get down. Twirling off the saddle he took a pause to lean down, face to face with the boy.

“And a fine Falconer you’ll be one day, won’t you?”

“Because of men like you.” The boy didn’t cower, didn’t even flinch as Ira snapped the leather string of the key looped around his neck. Ira straightened, giving a chuckle as he pulled the trunk to the door. Unlocking it he threw the lid wide. Withdrawing with four sacks, he tossed two of them to Myghal.

A hawk screeched overhead.

“You see?” The boy sneered, “They’re already here.” Ira tied one of the smaller sacks onto his belt, mussing the boy’s hair.

“Just because they’re here doesn’t mean they can catch me, and they’ve been chasing for years.” He climbed back onto Berma, head nodding down the road. “Take care, gentlemen. These roads can be dangerous.” Berma drove into a gallop, Myghal right behind him with Zabiri howling as she held on. They tore down the dirt road, Berma making a wide turn around a silver headed man in a long coat. Myghal held the scarf over his lower face, looking over a shoulder as the man stopped in his tracks to watch.

Zabiri hadn’t stopped laughing.

Eventually they moved up the slope, back into the trees, and finally back on the narrow trail from before. Ira stood in the saddle, hood thrown back as he stared behind them. He checked the sky and the trees, and only after they reached empty fields did they slow down.

“What did you mean by Falconers?” Myghal pulled the scarf off, glad to be rid of its heat.

“You know, the Royal Falconers,” Zabiri leaned around him, “What I want to know is if you’re really the Rook.”

“Don’t tell me you’re full of fairy tales too?” Ira growled.

“But what do the Falconers do?”

“They’re spies,” Ira chose his question instead. “The Emperor has a detachment of soldiers who use birds to keep an eye on his empire. The birds are trained to hunt certain people and alert their Falconers when there’s trouble. No one ever knows where Falconers are because they move around so much, and few have seen an actual Falconer and lived.”

“You’ve got to be the Rook if you have magic.” Zabiri opened one of the bags, an inane laugh slipping from her as she dug out a handful of coin.

“That’s about all you’ve earned.” Ira snapped, taking it back from her.

“Hey!”

“You didn’t do anything.”

“I was moral support.”

“You both have about as much morals as a sack of dirt.” Myghal mumbled, “And we need to figure out what to do with all of that coin before we’re caught with it.”

“I know what I’m doing.” Ira waved it away, “Just be sure this gremlin doesn’t take off with more than she deserves.”

“You didn’t steal enough to make up for what I deserve, Rook.” Ira shook his head and that was all. Zabiri didn't seem to mind the quiet, back to commenting to herself about the horse every so often. Her excitement reminded Myghal of his own when he had spotted the horse, without a rider, waiting on the road as if expecting him. The relief, the forgotten grief in seeing hope for freedom, just from one, shaggy horse.

"Nepenthe," he announced.

"What?" Ira turned his head. Myghal leaned up, giving the gelding a pat.

"That's his name, Nepenthe."

[thatcanadianfangirl]

*Isaac Lahey*  The Perfect Piece

Isaac Lahey X Girl

Plot: Isaac falls in love with the dancing of a ballerina. Letting his piano pieces follow her. 

Word Count: 1,393

A/N: This AU so I could write anything I wanted. Also Most of the gifs I use are not mine, Don’t give me credit.

Isaac’s P.O.V

The converse I was wear slapped against the hallway floors of the arts school I go to. There were only a number of students left, working on whatever they majored in. I stayed later than I intended to, but I got so caught up on the piano piece I’m currently working on.That I lost track of time.

My dad didn't approve of my love for music. He always thought is was a bigger distractions than my friends were. He wanted me to do something useful with my life other than just playing the piano. That would get me nowhere in life he’d say.

At the beginning  I thought he was right until my music teacher slipped me a pamphlet. Blue Tune School Of The Arts, They didn't accept people who didn't have potential to become anything more. There were only ten students a class, I still don't know how I got in with the waiting list behind me.

Without my dad’s approval I found some other way to pay for it. It took a year, but after I finally had enough I applied with a video of me playing two songs on the piano. I didn't think I would get accepted, but I did.

I passed a room with a fast spinning royal blue blur in the corner of my eye. I took a few gingerly steps back and looked through the door’s window. There she was in the middle of the room like she normally is. Sandy long brown hair tied into a tight ballerina bun. dark green eyes glued onto the mirror as she spotted herself.

she danced beautifully to the music that played inside the closed room. The music controlled and flowed through her bones. Every move was considered perfect in my eyes. Watching her dance was like watching a swan glide through a pond. So elegant. So beautiful.

Paisley King, known as the only ballerina in the dancing system here. “I’d appreciate if you kept your eyes to yourself.” A husky voice spoke, I took my attention from her.

A man a year or two older than me glared  with a death-ing look. I scoffed as I crossed my arms over my chest. Who the hell was this guy?

“And who are you? her brother?” I asked rudely, I hated the expression he held as if I was below him in every possible way.

“I’m Parry King, and yes I’m her brother.” He shot at me, This guy was hopping on my nerves as if it were a horse. The King’s weren't realizing that there were decent people in the world. All they did was hide behind their money, but Paisley’s better in a way.

“I know guys like you, always telling me she’s different. I’m not putting up with another smashed heart again. If I was you I���d only keep looking from the window.” He sneered as I took another look towards her.

So elegant.

So beautiful.

The next morning Erica my roommate shook me awake, She had an early shift at work this morning. She’s usually the one that wakes me up in the morning. I groaned as I dragged myself out of bed and threw on clothes. I locked the door behind be and made my way to the bus stop.

Not everyone at Blue Tune had parents willing to throw in a couple thousand for a car. I was one of those students, I took the bus everyday. anywhere I had to go, the bus was my car.

I pulled open the door of the art school with little strength, in the morning this place was almost a ghost town. I jogged up the stairs to my floor, where my piano room was held. I think I can burn a little time fixing my piano piece that I finished last night.

Something about it didn't seem to please me, I wanted it to be in sync with the elegant swan. To match her dancing style, but I can’t get it to settle in the right way.

The sound of beautiful music cut off my thoughts. I looked up to see Paisley’s door open and noticed it flowed from there. I walked up and rested my right shoulder against the door frame, arms crossed over my firm chest.

I watched her.

Her movement was straight and stiff, but was also flowing like a river. Her royal blue uniform shaped her stunning curvy figure showing her off. Watching her was what I needed to fix my piece to perfection, inspiration.

She finished with a long and high leap that took awhile to perfect. The music stopped and she looked into the mirror. sighing and breathing heavily, her body moving up and down with each breathe.

I didn't move when her green eyes looked into my blue ones through the mirror. I didn't say anything and I didn't move. I was taking in the way she danced, her dancing was the best part of her. It was clearly my favorite thing about her.

“Well are you going to stand there or help me, Isaac?” Paisley’s voice was a gentle demand. It was slightly different from the way she usual talked to people.

I furrowed my eyebrows intrigued, “How do you know my name?” I asked as I pulled myself off the door frame.

“Everyone knows Isaac Lahey the one that came from the little town over. Gifted with the music in his bones, you're the best pianist in the system.” She spoke to me as if I wake up to it everyday.

My name rolled from her tongue like she says it everyday. And every time it would sent pleasurable chills to my spine. “Of course they do.” I said cockily playing  it off.

“You can lift right?” She asked as she made her way deeper in the spacious room. I scoffed, “Yes.” I answered coming into the room more.

“Good, now don't drop me.” She replied, before I could say a response or decline her she ran towards me. I was shocked and let my instincts take control of my body.

 She jumped. My hands found their way to her petite waist and lifted her up. Their was a slightly stumble from how fast it happened.

Her limbs stiffly in the air, I began to slowly twirl her feather-like body. Seeing a slow smile appeared on her beautiful face. Her smile  identical to the scowl that was held on her brother’s face. He tolled me to only look through the window, but when did I ever listen?

“Finally someone who can do it properly.” Paisley sighed with relief as I slide her down my body. Making something deep inside purr. She stepped away with the same smile.

“Have you done that before?” Paisley asked with cute and curious expression. I chuckled and shock my head, “No.” I answered her.

“Really? Because guys who having been leaning it for a year now. Still drop me before I even get off the ground.” she said in amusement as she made me chuckle.

“I think it’s best if your ballerina’s hit the gym, you're light as a feather.” I mentioned as a small smirk spread on my face.

“Your a good ballerina.” She said with a laugh in her voice as she collected her bag. I chuckled again, “I’m going to stick with my piano, if you don't mind.” I said as I joined her to walk to the door.

She giggled making me want to melt into a puddle for the millionth time this morning. “I don't mind, you're really good with a piano anyway.”

I smiled, “It’s in my bones,” I  said faking my proud tone. she giggled again, “Um. Isaac I have to go, but I’d really like to get to know you better. you're different, I like that.” She said turning left towards the exit.

“Tomorrow lunch?” I called after her,

“Perfect.”

I turned left making my way towards my piano room. I smiled goof-ily. Paisley wanted to get to know me more. I was beyond excited for it. I could feel myself bouncing mentally inside my head. I fell in love with her dancing and now I think I was falling in love with her.

I sat down on the bench in front of the white piano, my hands flowing over the black and white keys. Finding what I needed to finally make the piece perfect.

[awkwardblushing-blog]

Chapter 59 - The Wilds

AO3 Link: http://archiveofourown.org/works/8129126/chapters/21420737

Bastien couldn’t stop gaping as his mare guided them along the path behind Cullen. He could easily be riding across those roots, those branches, along that tree fungus, all of them were large enough to support his horse. The birds were loud and frequent in their calls, fluttering up from a bush and startling his horse every now and then. Overall, the trek was beautiful, the ruins, the waterfalls, the plants, the animals, the Wilds seemed like a paradise. Bastien struggled to keep in mind all off the terrible stories about this place, all the frightful rumors, but it was so hard to believe them now that he was here. Maybe people didn’t come back because they simply got lost?

“Careful, if you leave your mouth open, a bug may fly in.” Cullen teased and Bastien snapped it shut.

They crested a rise and the camp lay before them, all of their allies standing in the same ground, Bastien was awestruck. They made an impressive, if a bit destructive sight. He saw the shimmering gold and blue of the empress’ gown, briefly wondering why she wasn’t wearing armor in a war zone before dismounting in front of what was to be his tent. He tied his mare loosely the post, she wouldn’t leave anyway, and if this went sideways, he wanted her to be able to escape. He barely had the chance to catch his breath when the clatter of swords took everyone’s attention. The battle had begun, and it wouldn’t wait for them to rest.

He gathered his party, making sure they had Dagna’s rune with them, and set forth, cutting their way through the red templar forces as they made their way to the temple. The elves were a surprise. Their pale skin, long limbs and extensive tattoos caught him off guard. He tried to speak with them, but it was clear that this was their forest, and they were not keen on visitors. He tried to ask Solas about them, or even Morrigan, but the best he received were vague comments and suspicions. They would find out the truth soon enough.

They paused at the base of a massive stone wolf resting with its twin before a door, both covered in birds despite the recent violent skirmish. They each downed a much needed potion and Bastien and Dorian each gave the other a solid once over, looking for any extensive damage. Content that neither were injured, they crept through the far end of the hall, crouching low at the sound of voices. Just below, the elves were squaring off against Sampson, and shortly after, the deep, reverberating voice of Corypheus sounded. Bastien tensed, his mark flickering. They’d known he was coming, they’d known they would likely see him, but still…

Wait…the Well of Sorrows? He looked to Morrigan, who shrugged. What on earth – He ducked back down quickly, dragging Dorian with him as the statues exploded, turning everything around them to dust and ash and killing all below. They froze, breath caught in their throats, as they waited for something, anything else to happen. Was that…it? Had Corypheus been defeated? It didn’t seem possible.

They made their way slowly down the steps towards the bridge, checking the bodies, but there was no remnant of Corypheus.

“Well that was rather anti-climactic…” Dorian muttered, turning over a red templar. Bastien motioned him forward, wanting to keep him close as they neared the bridge. In the distance, Bastien made out Sampson, who grinned at them before disappearing into the fortress. He was still trying to piece it all together when something shifted behind them, growling and moaning. He pivoted on his heel as the corpse began to rise.

“Dorian please tell me that’s yours.” Even as he spoke, he retreated, keeping Dorian behind him and his now ready shield.

“Unfortunately not…” Dorian shook his head, taking several steps back when the warden’s blood began showering from his mouth. An all too familiar taloned hand erupted from the muck and Bastien turned, pushing his group forward.

“Across the bridge! Now!” He shouted, keeping himself at the back of the pack as the group sprinted away from the reforming Corypheus, the roar of the archdemon only fueling them faster. He flew back as the dragons attack impacted with the door, but it held shut, shimmering in a soft light before falling silent. He tried the door, but it wouldn’t budge. For better or worse, nothing was getting through that door.

Assuring himself no one was harmed, Bastien glanced at the long hallway leading to a flight of descending stairs.  “Well, I guess we go deeper…”

--

“What I don’t understand,” Dorian waved his free hand in the air as he swallowed his mouthful of cheese, “Is how on earth that happened. Perhaps he cast a spell before approaching? Perhaps it was blood magic? But then how—“

“Does it truly matter?” Cassandra snapped, none too pleased at Corypheus’ newest trick. They sat at the base of a grand staircase, covered in ivy and illuminated with the afternoon sunlight. It was a beautiful place for a break.

“Cassandra is right,” Solas added, “The point is that we know now that he can jump from a host. I would propose that his darkspawn nature, as well as the blight present within the grey wardens allows him to transfer, and it is unlikely he could pick a random host.”

In the distance, a gong was heard, followed by the distant curses of Bastien as he messed up on yet another puzzle.

“Keep it up, Amatus, we are almost there!” Dorian called, taking another drink from the canteen before muttering, “I hope.”

“We should be, I believe we are nearing the entrance.” Morrigan stated calmly, pacing around the room to examine different statues, though she could have also been avoiding the inevitable questions. Dorian was a bit surprised that Solas wasn’t doing the same, though the man seemed fairly at ease here. Perhaps he’d been here in the fade? Dorian wasn’t sure how the whole Somniari thing really worked, so he couldn’t truly be sure.

A chime sounded, and Bastien’s shout of joy echoed off the walls. Up the stairs, the door shimmered, unlocking. He ran back to the group, cheeks flushed from running back and forth in circles to complete the trials and he snatched up the canteen, downing half its contents before finishing his sandwich in three bites. He motioned for them to continue, mouth still stuffed with food. Things were progressing nicely, though he was worried about Samson’s progress. How much further ahead was he? They would have to hurry, though the ancient elves were not going to make it easy for them, if the row of arrows pointed to their backs was any hint. He allowed Dorian time to ask his questions, allowed him to indulge his intrigue about the truth behind the true fall of Arlathan, while he tried to decide what to say.

“Please, I mean you no harm, nor do I wish to steal from your temple. I want to stop the man who is barging his way forward, as well as his master. Let us pass to deal with them, then we will leave, I swear it.” Bastien took a step towards Abelas, palms up and supplicating. They really didn’t have time for this, but this bloodshed could be avoided.

“Your words… seem genuine.” He said after a pause. Bastien let out a sigh of relief as the elf continued, “You have followed the rites and shown respect to our temple, if these trespassers are enemies of yours, we shall aid you in destroying them. But I will not see the well desecrated, even if I have to destroy it myself.”

He accepted the offer readily, much to Morrigan’s dismay as she rushed forth. Unable to pursue, he turned, following the old mage through the ornate back pathways towards the Well of Sorrows.

[stories-and-other-fun-things]

Gangsters

Part 8

The next day preparations began for that night. When it reached nightfall Malcheny assembled everybody and they drove to a cliff. Someone had found four horses and attached ropes to all four. Leo watched as Jason was tied up to the four horses. One rope around each one of his arms and legs. Jason was bloodied and bruised, he had done something he shouldn't have done. Don Malcheny was saying words, but Leo couldn't hear them. He was too focused on Jason tied to the horses. There were friends, once. But things had changed... Leo zoned back in and listened to Malcheny.

"You are a fool Jason McDonald for attempting to steal my money. You should not have done what you did." Malcheny told Jason with a gun in his hand.

"You are getting too old! You are an old man who will soon fall! You and your whole operation will fall! I was merely taking my share from it before it fell!" Jason shouted at Malcheny. He raised his voice and yelled at the others watching. "All of you are doomed! When the old man falls, all of you shall fall with him!" Malcheny pointed the gun at Jason's chest. "DO IT ALREADY!" Jason screamed at him. Malcheny shit the gun, at the ground near Jason which startled the four horses. Each of the horses began trying to run off in different directions, tugging Jason's limbs until all four were ripped from his torso. Jason began screaming at a time which sounded inhuman. Malcheny lowered the gun once more and shot Jason directly in the middle of his head. Malcheny then kicked the lifeless husk of Jason of the cliff for animals to find and eat. It began to rain. June clung tightly to Leo's side. No one said a single word as they got back in their cars and returned to the mansion. Everyone spent the night at the mansion.

 They all were awake by twelve the next day when alarms throughout the mansion began going off. There were people trying to storm the mansion. Weapons were grabbed and people scrambled everywhere and began protecting the mansion. Leo ran to Antonio and Malcheny. All three were armed with guns and only Antonio was wearing body armour. The attackers broke down the front door and were met with gunfire. Soon enough gunfire exploded everywhere and people from both sides began to drop dead. Leo broke away from Antonio and their boss and tried killing any attackers he came across. He soon ran out of ammo. He sneaked behind one attacker and broke his neck and claimed his assault rifle. He also picked up a shotgun and ran to find June. He found her in the Infirmary. He ushered her to the garage and told her to drive and not come back. He ran around the mansion killing more attackers. He found Antonio and Malcheny once again. Their side was winning, but their numbers were also dwindling. They were eventually left with only five attackers. They killed two when Leo got shot in the right shoulder. Leo spun and hit the ground. Malcheny also got shot, but he got hit in the chest. Antonio ran at one attacker and began to pound his head in. The other attacker began to walk up to Malcheny to check if he was dead or not. Leo crawled back up, grabbed a nearby revolver with one bullet in it. Leo took aim and shot the guy through his left eye, only three steps away from Malcheny. Leo crawled over to him and Antonio ran to the both of them. 

"Sir..." Leo began.

"Save it... I'm lost..." Malcheny managed.

"We can save you..."

"Forget it... I'm dead. I wanted to tell you Leo, as soon as I saw you I knew you were destined for greatness. I decided if I died, I wanted you to lead. My decision was reinforced when you killed Alistair. My operation is yours my boy. Keep it thriving and Leo?"

"Sir?"

"Thank you..." Malcheny's last bit of life left him while Leo and Antonio held him.

***

Yes I know it says Malcheny “shit the gun” but it kinda too funny to change it right now