#steed (ah-un)

[agonzovi]

[2] Dawn in the Rest

Previous:

holy shit yellow gets to meet blue now haha i sure hope it doesn't end in a self indulgent wreck that I didn't suffer writing through oh golly.

(---)

Yannick glared at the steed with such ferocity it would have converted it to glue if she tried hard enough.

But she didn't want to, and she didn't need to give Mrs. Davis another reason to behead her. Right now, she was tipsy and really needed atleast some sort of civilization hospitable enough to take her in for now, but even that was proving to be frugal in barren sandscape.

Wine bottle in one hand and hat in the other, Yannick slicks her dirt-blonde hair back before dusting off her hat and readjusting it to her crown in manner so that it doesn't fall off as easily.

The white mare snorts at Yannick's misfortune, its velvet halter overlayed with the shades of dim under the blanket of the rising night. The horse noise was met with a withering glare that could only come from somebody who's ass came in impact with the ground at gravitational force.

And, as if the mount was challenging her, its head dropped to Yannick's eye level, tilting in a manner that said, ‘what will you do about it?’

“You’re funny thing aren't you? letting me ride you off as an escape and then proving you have your owner's personality. Just so you know, we're going to suffer the night’s cold if keep throwing me off.”

See, if talking to an animal you stole whilst slightly drunk was odd enough, it had quite the personality. The horse then proceeded to shove her and walk off idly.

“You little—”

Her grip on the lead rope tightened, but instead of halting the equine, she was dragged by the arm she was holding its lead with, like some cursed folktale where some horse carries around a dead body with a winebottle in its hand. Its actually impressive how the alcohol hasn't spilled a drop yet.

This horse and her is proving to be equally challenged in being stubborn, but in this state where she's not as sharp she'd usually be, the horse was winning this battle of wits because she was letting it drag her resigned figure.

Well she was resigned, until the surface beneath her transitioned from dusty fine sand into small sharp-

“ROCKS! FUCK!”

okay, now that woke her up, she sprang up from the ground and had let go of the lead, seeing in the dim night she was intentionally led into a small patch of rigid pebbles that was so proportioned to be avoidable and now she resents losing Jasper.

back hurting, and hat disheveled, she feels her spine in an attempt to soothe the stings, and then sees the horse staring at her blankly as if it was amused, “You smart little shit.”, she spat, the mare breaks eye contact and flips her mane at her and Yannick REALLY, really regrets losing Jasper.

At this point, the tipsiness wears off, and then Yannick still downs the rest of the wine anyway. Which—really wasn't much, as she had discovered that yes, the wine had infact spilled many times in her predicament; Maybe she might've been slightly more than tipsy.

Well shit, now we really need to find a town now.

Preferably with a bar.

The moon was full. Enough light for Yannick to survey the inventory in her leather sling. She picks up a lamp, the frame rusting but otherwise usable.

“I can't believe I'm negotiating with a fucking horse.”

‘Shithead’, as she had named the horse, was looking at her with the most doe eyes a horse could do. Well— more like looking at the apple in her hand; which she definitely didn't steal a few hours before her altercation with Mrs. Davis and forgot about in her bag. Shithead tilted it's shit little head, a horse so majestically big it was dwarfing Yannicks height and yet it was still staring at Yannick like a sat puppy.

“Okay, here's a deal, you take us to a town where we can settle down for a bit, and I give you the apple, okay?” un—fucking—believable. She wasn't even under the influence of alcohol anymore and she's still talking to an animal that has further anthrmorphised itself with proven intelligence and a name. It wasn't a very good name, but It still applies.

The mare sprung up so fast Yannick was suprised she didn't get shoved and die; because well, look at that thing, its full height is a few heads taller than Yannick's full height.

It's tail was carried high, with a posture that giddily anticipated for her to saddle up and sHITHEAD EVEN LEANED DOWN AND PUT THE LEAD ROPE INBETWEEN ITS TEETH TO OFFER. WHAT THE FUCK MRS. DAVIS.

“Holy shit, uh— thank.. you..?”

Just as she had only just gained a firm grip on the reins, Shithead immediately went off to gallop, sprinting off so fast Yannick's hair escaped her hat and it was trying to attack her eyes.

With the speed of this Mare, Yannick swore her soul couldn't catch up with her body and got left behind. Strong equine legs moving so fast across the night horizon in a .. strangely controlled manner. Did this horse know where it was going?

Yannick couldn't confirm anyway, her front hair was still trying to find real estate property within her eyelids, and focusing on not losing your hat and being blinded simultaneously is pretty hard.

Soon the galloping pace decreased to a rate where Yannick could control her wild hair, ripping off her hat to her chest and letting her short locks flow behind her and not in her face.

She immediately sees a blur of warm light in the distance, and sees a very sizable town she hasn't ever seen or drifted through before. A glimmer of hope.

(---)

When she means glimmer of hope, she means walking into a loud warm-lit bar and seeing cheap brandy immediately displayed. And who was she to reject not obliterating her liver?

She left, uh, shithead to a local stable that immediately took her in because the stable master was in awe of how majestic and beautiful and gorgeous her horse was and— ‘really hope the news of a stolen horse doesn't reach them.’,

“And what's the name of this absolute gem? Look at her! she adores apples!”

Yannick was never good at social situations, nor was she good at making shit up.

“Uh, Shi— Horse. Yeah. Horse loves apples alot.”

The stable master just looked at her strangely before moving on back to marvel at shithea— Horse? Then he insisted that he'd take care of her in the meantime for free because ohh what an honor to have such a beauty like her to end up in his care—

Alright enough kissing horse-ass. Yannick did not need or care to remember the awkward encounter fully and frankly she just wants to purge it from her memories with alcohol.

As she walks through the rows of shabby tables, She adjusts her hat so her eyes are caught underneath its shadow, a precaution to avoid any stares of drunken rowdy men whose attention she'll catch. She sets her eyes on the cracked brick floor until she reaches the counter.

There's nobody there yet, but she sees a gold bell near the side and presses it, She slides over the cool surface of the wooden barstool and settles her hat in her lap, untying her bandana and flattening her collar.

“Well, you're new here.” a soft but smooth voice says behind the varnished wood pub table.

Yannick makes eye contact.

It is instant regret as her face heats up so fast she feels like a walking bomb fuse.

A pretty lady staring right at her with blue piercing eyes hiding away behind ebony hair, locks frame her face perfectly and holyfuckingshit her plump lips are stained maroon and freckles pepper her dark skin generously.

Alright, calm the fuck down.

“Name, dear?”

Yannick steels her fluster, and refocuses on her main objective to abuse her liver, opening her mouth to answer and realizing ‘huh, revealing my identity would be pretty fucking stupid.’

“Ya—uh—Yani.”

good fucking job, if news ever arrives of a short-cut blonde lady with a hat who's named “Yannick”, she definitely won't notice. idiot.

“Charming name. What would you like?”

Yannick thinks this is the first and only time so far she's ever liked having her name asked for.

“..Brandy.”

The lady hums in response, Yannick glues her sight and tries tto trace the wood grain under the varnish, but she can't help but have her gaze wander,

The Lady grabs a bottle from underneath the pub, expertly grabbing a glass from a holder simultaneously. Moving with swift familiarity, she places the bottle down and grabs a cloth that was apparently on her and starts wiping the glass in fast motions, clearing away beads of water with one long swipe around its surface, her slender fingers move up to hold the glass carefully by the mouth to also, tediously wipe its short stem. Using two fingers controlling the cloth, the lady skillfully dips it into the inside of the glass and “FUCK.”

The barmaid stops what she was doing halfway, she looks concerningly at Yannick— whose forehead had kissed the pub table passionately— with a small upturn of lips and furrowed brows. “..Are you alright dear?”

“YES! I mean—yes, very alright don't worry.”

‘FUUUCK.’

Well, at least it was said silently this time, That was Yannick's fault, she observed and let herself wander,

Now her heart's racing and she's embarrassing herself in front of the pretty gal whose name she doesn't know. Already beet-red and hadn’t even drank the brandy yet.

She feels the barmaid's gaze linger unto her crown for a period of time and she's kinda glad she slammed her head into the countertop so she doesn't have to see that. After an extended amount of time, she can hear the barmaid resume in doing her job—which she got stupidly flustered about.— and Yannick drones out, focusing in the gruff laughter of men behind her and the drunken ranting of other people.

“Here's your drink, Yani.”

‘fuuuuck.’

the barmaid settles her glass in front of Yannick gently, it lands with a soft clink and Yannick holds it with a grip that has the intention of fully forgetting everything dumb she’s done for the rest of the night.

Yannick says thank you and pays— way more than the price the alcohol was up for and way more she'd usually spend. She's not sure if it's because the lady's so gorgeous it's making her tip this generously or if she's trying to compensate to her for being a fool.

“So, what has you visiting around here, Dear?”

Yannick doesn't want to admit, but she's been consciously counting how many times she's been called ‘dear’ in that sweet honey tone tonight. and she's been way more conscious than what's supposed to be not embarrassing.

“I'm just a drifter, miss.”

“You can call me Bonnie.”

“Bonnie?”

“Mhm.”

“It's a pretty name.”

“It sounds pretty good coming out of your mouth.”

Remember when Yannick was destroying her liver? Well, she's also destroying her lungs now too, who knew inhaling alcohol burns.

And also she's coughing vigorously.

“Oh dear, you poor thing, let me get you some tissues.”

Strike 4.

Bonnie moves swiftly as Yannick is busy expelling the insides of her lungs into her hands, how fun.

She takes the tissues when they are offered in front of her (with a very conscious effort to not grab Bonnie roughly; and also memorising the feeling when both of their hands slightly brush.)

Her lungs burn, her throat burns, And she forces her spluttering into a stop, Yannick really doesn't want to embarrass herself further at this point. and just mumbles a shy thanks, AGAIN.

Now, she doesn't want to assume—she’s never talked to a woman. Because there's really no time for that when you're a habitual crime-doer, But for her own sake she'll force herself to think that that exchange of words was completely normal between two women.

completely normal, between two women.

another soft clink.

“Oh, what's this for?” Yannick stares at the newly refilled glass of brandy.

Well, she did technically inhale her first drink instead of actually ingesting it like a normal person, but still.

“On the house, darling.”

‘FUUUUCK.’

similarly with her ‘dear’ talley, that's her 4th exasperated totally non-homosexual ‘fuck ‘from Bonnie today. Wait— Let's reword that.

That's her 4th completely homosexual absolutely gay fuck from Bonnie today.

much better.

There's a lot of things Yannick notices as she downs her 3nd glass.

Bonnie speaks like her tongue is covered in melted sugar, her voice is smooth like ivory and her eyes are narrowed like a hawk sifting below the landscape for prey. Perhaps, Yannick is just on the verge of being drunk and she gets weirdly poetic, or perhaps Bonnie is just, really, extremely, absolutely gorgeous.

When Bonnie talks to her about the history of this town, How she's explored every alley and backside, How she's familiar with the locals and the places little know about, it feels like Yannick's being spoiled with divine information; or was that just Bonnie's voice? She's not sure.

Another thing she's also noticed, is that she’s getting bolder the more she drinks. Her usual personality that doesn't mirror the reserved display Bonnie had seen earlier starts to really show when she nearly barks out clever retorts to Bonnie and is further encouraged when she hears the angelic song of Bonnie's laugh.

the melody is cut short when a group looms beside Yannick.

It's a group of men.

They posture like they demand Bonnie's attention, chuckles like gravel among eachother. Bonnie idly stands infront of them, the wooden countertop dividing beauty and asshole.

“5 glasses, the usual.” A Man with dark hair leans on the counter, there's smoke escaping his lips as he speaks, And his face is way too close to Bonnie's to be comfortable.

“I don't know your usual.”

Bonnie replies, deadpan.

The group howls like a pack of rabid wolves, they're laughing at the man, who was really trying to make it seem like he was impressionable.

“Nice jokin’, Missus. I've been here lots of times before, ya’ really can't remember what I usually ask for? I'll give you an extra dime if you get it right. But looking at that pretty face, I bet you get lot's of those already..”

brazen laughter rings above the bar’s loud ambience, Bonni’s expression remains cool as ice and monotone. Yannick has realized how hard her own hand is gripping the glass of little brandy left, It might shatter.

“Mister, It’s not that hard to say what you'd like.”

Bonnie says, flat.

“C’mon dollface, no need to get so mad. What gotten you so pricked? Before we arrived you were giggling to goldie over here.”

“her corsets probably too tight.” somebody behind the group blurted. The laughter is even louder this time— Yannick’s eyebrows hurt from how much tension is in them. Bonnie still looks unfazed.

“I know somebody who could loosen it for her.”

They all guffaw cockily this time, and Yannick decides; the glass WILL shatter.

dogfight.

She got kicked out and landed on her ass. Again.

theres a nick in her cheekbone she's sure will bruise, and she has alot of aching ribs. But that's not what's making her feel bad, it's the fact she embarrassed herself infront of the pretty lady again, to a much more severe extent.

She beat the shit out of all them, yes. But a one person fight versus five jacked men doesn't mean she comes out unscathed.

She forgot her bandana too, and she shattered the glass Bonnie gave her into some guys temple. Yay property damage.

Luckily, she has the hat and the sling. And before some guys dragged and threw her out, her hands managed to snag an alcohol beverage from a random table. Hasn't been opened either, Jackpot.

She's staring at the brand on the bottle, her bruised fingers wrapping around its neck, it's too dark to read.

After getting kicked out, Yannick did some loitering (writhing in pain) around the front of the bar, she never saw those douchebags get kicked out. Which means Bonnie probably had to serve them; or worse, deal with them bugging her about some man-looking gal beating the piss out of all of them and Bonnie apologizing for something she did

‘Yeah, I was never really good with people.’

Bonnie was nice, but Yannick would rather hide away into this town's crevices now; She really doesn't want to get into an altercation for walking around freely in public.

in a few hours, Morning will rise and she'll have to go and collect shithead to get resources.

[four-loose-screws]

FE7 Novelization Translation - Chapter 8 Section 2

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———————————

Chapter 8: Noble Lady of Caelin (Section 2)

“General Bauker! We have spotted something in the skies to the south!” A Laus soldier reported to his commanding officer, who was fortifying the defense in front of the castle gate.

The general was a knight encased in heavy armor. When he noticed the soldier coming his way, he momentarily stopped giving out orders to the guard. “...It’s a pegasus knight?! They just passed over the forest. Where are they headed?”

At his soldier’s report, Bauker strained his eyes and looked to the south. There, just as his soldier had said, was a single pegasus knight moving at a breakneck speed, so fast he could tell they were in a rush even from this far away.

“Then spread the word that no one is to escape Caelin territory. Archer unit, march! Shoot them down immediately!!”

Bauker was a stern man who carried out all orders given to him, and was trusted deeply by Marquess Laus, who had made him the commanding officer of the Imperial Guard. Whenever there were orders given to him to be carried out, he immediately accepted them, and handed his subordinates their own orders.

ー

“...Cross the forest to leave Laus, and head north… then…" Florina said to cheer on her steed as they flew through the air like a gust of wind.

She was doing something all on her own for Lyn’s sake… If it had been one year ago, she wouldn’t have been able to even imagine herself doing something like this. Even if she wanted to, her body would not have moved. Her shy and cowardly personality held her back.

But now, she was different. Those days one year ago when she fought to help Lyn… the times that were long past, but she still remembered so vividly… they had caused her to grow so much.

As she flew the skies above the forest, she saw not Laus soldiers, but a unit she did not recognize. “...Who are they? They aren’t showing an insignia anywhere…”

But the moment she got a clear view of their vanguard, she broke out into a smile. “That’s… Lord Eliwood! He’s come to save Caelin…! Oh, thank goodness!”

This meant that Lyn and the others were saved. 

As she patted her chest in relief, she started to descend down towards where Eliwood was standing. 

“Lord Eliwood!” She called out.

That was also the same moment that Bauker's archers were all ordered to shoot at the same time.

“Florina! Beneath you!!”

“Eh? Ah, eeeeek!!!”

At Eliwood’s warning, she noticed the countless arrows flying straight towards her. In that moment, she shrieked and reflexively pulled on the reins, shifting into an evasive maneuver. In their desperation to try and avoid the oncoming arrows, her pegasus was forced to change his angle in the air. 

A split second later, her field of vision rotated 180 degrees. The recoil of the sudden movement to avoid the arrows had caused Florina’s body to dangle from and be thrown off his back.

The moment she was forced into the air, she lost consciousness.

ー

When she came to, the first voice she heard was that of the person she had been trying to reach.

“Florina! Are you awake? Are you okay? Are you injured?”

“Lord Eliwood…? I…”

“Archers shot at you. You successfully avoided their arrows, but lost your balance."

“...But I don’t seem to be injured. Even though I fell from that high…” Florina said with her eyes gazing blankly at the sky. Her mind was still fuzzy, and she couldn’t make much out. Yet she wasn't injured at all, and had been saved somehow, though she thought it all strange.

“Of course you aren’t! Because you fell on top of me!” A man who appeared next to Eliwood said with a sour look on his face.

He looked to be a full head taller than her, or perhaps even bigger. And his face, which looked a bit uncharacteristically young for someone so muscular, was covered in tiny scratches. He turned to look at Florina, clearly displeased.

Not only was this someone she didn’t know, but he was also a man, causing her to freeze up. Though she was doing much better than she had with men one year ago, it didn’t mean she was entirely used to them yet.

“Hector saved you.”

“I didn’t save her! She fell on top of me of her own accord!”

“Eek! I-I’m so sorry!!” At Hector’s loud voice, she instinctively shrunk back.

It was at that point that Eliwood explained how she fell to the ground.

He said that when she fell, she just so happened to land in his arms, but things did not go well even after that. Florina’s pegasus lost his sense of balance and teetered around in the air, trying his best not to fall on the ground. His course of flight was leading him towards Hector’s back.

He used Hector’s body like a stool to get himself back in the air, and managed to succeed in fixing his posture. Hector, on the other hand, having been stepped on, fell flat on his face. That was why he was covered in scratches.

The moment he toppled, Hector stretched his arms out as far as he could, taking care to make sure Florina did not get crushed beneath him, and she was able to come out of the whole ordeal without sustaining any injuries at all.

After hearing that entire explanation, her face turned bright red, and she said, “Ah, I really am sorry… What can I do to apologize…? I… I… Um…” She was so embarrassed that she felt as if her face was on fire.

Not only did they see her make so great a mistake as falling off her pegasus despite being a full-fledged knight, but they had to save her and her pegasus. She was both extremely embarrassed and sorry.

But when she started to apologize, Hector cut her off and said, "You don't need to apologize. More importantly, you came to tell us something, didn't you?!"

"Th-That's right!" She remembered why she had come here, and turned to face Eliwood in a panic. "Lord Eliwood!! Lady Lyndis is waiting in the forest close to here for a chance to attack the castle!"

"Lyndis? Thank goodness! She's safe!"

"Yes… but Lord Hausen was captured and is still in the castle…"

"Is he… Then we must go! We'll combine forces with Lyndis and save Marquess Caelin!!"

At Eliwood’s order, his entire unit raised their weapons and roared a mighty battle cry.

☆

[marieantoinettesdiamondnecklace]

La Belle Dame sans Merci, Frank Bernard Dicksee (1853–1928)

La Belle Dame sans Merci est mon tableau préféré depuis mes 11 ans. En plein milieu du chapitre sur la poésie de mon manuel de français, il illustrait un poème du même nom par John Keats, je le regardais pendant toute l'heure à rêvasser, enchantée par la scène mythique qui y est présentée.

La Belle Dame est représentée enchanteresse, un regard et le temps s'arrête. Elle est sans Merci et pourtant chaque élément du tableau lui dévoue SA merci : le soleil lointain s'incline, le cheval fait sa révérence et le chevalier en armure chavire. Elle le fixe, son souffle est coupé et il ne peut pas détourner le regard, complètement épris.

"Je te défis, détourne le regard, vas-y." Il en est simplement incapable. Il la retiens faiblement, s'accrochant désespérément à son destrier. Mais cela a suffisamment duré, elle doit repartir tandis pour son cœur qu'aucune armure ne peut sauver. Aucun homme ne reste bien longtemps à ses côtés, elle les charme, les berce et repart. C'est la FEMME FATALE.

Ah, what can ail thee, wretched wight, Alone and palely loitering; The sedge is withered from the lake, And no birds sing.

Ah, what can ail thee, wretched wight, So haggard and so woe-begone? The squirrel's granary is full, And the harvest's done.

I see a lilly on thy brow, With anguish moist and fever dew; And on thy cheek a fading rose Fast withereth too.

I met a lady in the meads Full beautiful, a faery's child; Her hair was long, her foot was light, And her eyes were wild.

I set her on my pacing steed, And nothing else saw all day long; For sideways would she lean, and sing A faery's song.

I made a garland for her head, And bracelets too, and fragrant zone; She looked at me as she did love, And made sweet moan.

She found me roots of relish sweet, And honey wild, and manna dew; And sure in language strange she said, I love thee true.

She took me to her elfin grot, And there she gazed and sighed deep, And there I shut her wild sad eyes— So kissed to sleep.

And there we slumbered on the moss, And there I dreamed, ah woe betide, The latest dream I ever dreamed On the cold hill side.

I saw pale kings, and princes too, Pale warriors, death-pale were they all; Who cried—"La belle Dame sans merci Hath thee in thrall!"

I saw their starved lips in the gloam With horrid warning gaped wide, And I awoke, and found me here On the cold hill side.

And this is why I sojourn here Alone and palely loitering, Though the sedge is withered from the lake, And no birds sing.

— La Belle Dame Sans Merci, John Keats ( 1795-1821)

[tcnseigad]

tag dump 

[origami-trust]

Van Helsing, panting with exertion, covered in the dust of rubble, shaking in every limb: The dreadful deed is done. The three women have been restored to their dead selves. Van Helsing: Where have gone the bodies of the horses? Mina: Professor...they're standing behind you.

Van Helsing: Ah. I see. Un-Dead steeds. Van Helsing, hefting a stake: All right. Round Two.

[esuemmanuel]

Luego, me buscaron tus ojos, como el fuego del sol, quemándome las entrañas al simple roce de tus pupilas con las mías. Ardiste ante mí, como la diosa que eras; ataviada de ensueños, con las manos manipulando a la luz, te posaste ante mis plantas para jurarme amor eterno, y mi alma cayó. ¡Oh, cuántas noches no volé sobre el corcel de tu mirar! ¡Cuántas mañanas no bebí de tu entrepierna el aguamiel de la victoria! Y gemí, pero de gozo, de lujuria y pasión, porque tuve en el corazón el descaro de decirme tu dueño y señor, sabiendo el lugar que tenía bajo el manto de tu frívola sonrisa. ¡Ah, qué atrevimiento el mío! Creerme un dios, siendo sólo un peón en tu drama homérico, diosa de tu invención.

— Esu Emmanuel©️, Then, your eyes sought me, like the fire of the sun, burning my insides at the mere touch of your pupils with mine. You burned before me, like the goddess you were; dressed in dreams, with your hands manipulating the light, you landed before my feet to swear eternal love, and my soul fell. Oh, how many nights I did not fly on the steed of your gaze! How many mornings I did not drink from your crotch the mead of victory! And I moaned, but of joy, of lust and passion, because I had in my heart the impudence to call myself your lord and master, knowing the place I had under the mantle of your frivolous smile. Ah, what audacity was mine! To believe myself a god, being only a pawn in your Homeric drama, goddess of your invention.

[whoopsieintheuniverse]

I See Red

Sesshomaru x Reader

Based on my own personal headcanon! Find it here: Sesshomaru Headcanon 

     Sesshomaru suppressed a snarl as he watched his wards, Rin, Jaken, and Y/N splash along in the river in front of him. His mind wandered to Y/N in particular. Sesshomaru stared off as he lost himself in his thoughts; he had done everything a good potential mate should have done. He had protected Y/N, of course, as well as made sure they were fed, watered, and rested. Could they not tell that Sesshomaru was once again lowering himself by fraternizing with yet another human? Did Y/N not see that Sesshomaru, the Killing Perfection, wanted them as a mate? Sesshomaru ground his teeth at the thought. On one hand, it hurt Sesshomaru’s pride to fall to the same vice his father did, however, every time he looked at Y/N, he could see how easily it was to fall. Perhaps if his father looked upon his own mortal woman as Sesshomaru looked upon Y/N, then maybe Sesshomaru could finally start to understand his father in the next fifty years or so. Shaking his head slightly, Sesshomaru was roused out of his thoughts by a yelp and a splash.

     “Lord Sesshomaru! It’s Y/N! They’ll be washed away!” Rin yelled. Sesshomaru inwardly cursed his absentmindedness; had he been watching instead of sulking, his potential mate currently wouldn’t be at the end off a very poorly made chain made of Jaken, his staff, and Rin. Growling, Sesshomaru quickly rose and waded into the river; the currents had indeed picked up, although it was nothing the inu-yokai couldn’t handle.

     Y/N sputtered as Sesshomaru wrapped his arm around their waist, hauling them out of the river. On his way back to the bank, Sesshomaru also scooped up Rin; he figured Jaken could hold his own against the tide. Y/N and Rin coughed as Sesshomaru set them both on the bank.

     “Rin! Are you okay?” Y/N asked. Rin patted herself down before looking up at Y/N and smiling.

     “Yes! Are you okay, Y/N?”

     Y/N looked down at themselves, checking for cuts and scrapes. They shifted slightly, noting how cold it suddenly felt outside. Marking it up to being completely soaked, Y/N smiled softly.

     “I’m fine, Rin,” they said. Y/N looked up Sesshomaru, whose glare was boring down at Rin and themselves.

     “Ah! Thank you, Lord Sesshomaru! Sorry for the trouble,” Y/N mumbled. Sesshomaru said nothing, opting instead to exhale sharply through his nose and return back to his seat at the base of a tree. Rin smiled back at her lord, before smiling at Y/N and rising.

     “We should probably make a fire to dry off, right?” the young girl asked. Y/N nodded, but when they went to stand, they felt another extremely cool draft. Rin gasped, and Jaken, who had since fished himself out of the river, squawked indignantly.

     “You vulgar human! Put on some clothes!” Jaken yelled. At this, Y/N looked down and finally assessed the problem at hand; their yukata was in tatters, the front revealing large chunks of skin underneath. Y/N’s arms flew to cover themselves as they sat back down. Meanwhile, Rin ran over to Sesshomaru.

     “Sesshomaru-sama! It’s Y/N! They... well! They’re naked!” the little girl squeaked. Sesshomaru’s eyes widened imperceptibly as he listened to the Rin and Jaken carry on about Y/N’s predicament. Gazing over to Y/N, Sesshomaru studied them before rising.

     “Se-Sesshomaru! Please! Don’t come over here, I’m not decent!” Y/N cried from their position on the ground. Sesshomaru said nothing, opting instead to walk past Y/N to Ah-Un, who was happily munching on grass away from all the ruckus. Searching through the saddle bag on the steed’s left, Sesshomaru pulled out a small bundle of cloth. Sesshomaru’s eyes narrowed as he stalked over to their still huddling form. He stopped just in front of Y/N and dropped the cloth.

     “Pull yourself together. It will be night soon, and your body will not withstand the cold.” And with that, Sesshomaru glided away, proud of himself for once again proving how valuable of a mate he would be to his human. Returning to his seat at the base of his tree, Sesshomaru heard Rin chittering with Jaken, and he watched as Y/N shifted to wrap the cloth around themselves.

     “Thank you, Lord Sesshomaru! And how did you know? Green is one of my favorite colors!”

     ‘Green?’ Sesshomaru thought to himself. ‘I was led to believe that yukata was red...’

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[ochoislas]

LA LINDA DUEÑA SIN PIEDAD

«¿Que te aqueja, el caballero, que yerras pálido y solo? Juncias del lago están secas, ni un ave canta.

»¿Cuál tu mal, el caballero, tan torvo y atribulado? Ya la ardilla colmó el silo, se hizo la siega.

»Veo en tus sienes un lirio rociado de afán y fiebre, y en tu mejilla una rosa presto marchita.»

«Dueña encontré por los prados, bella, casta de las hadas, larga melena, pie leve, los ojos fieros.

»Le hice de flores guirlanda, fragante cinto y pulseras; me miró como si amara, plañendo dulce.

»La subí a mi noble bruto, y aquel día se me nubló, que cimbrándose cantaba canto de fada.

»De alfajor me dio raíces, sudor de maná, miel de monte, y cierto dijo, en fabla extraña: "Te quiero bien".

»Me llevó a su aduendada sima, y allí ojeó y suspiró, y allí cerré sus fieras luces con besos cien.

»Y allí dentro me adurmió, y allí soñé ¡ay, en malhora! postrero sueño soñado, fría la loma.

»Vi reyes hueros, y príncipes, y demudados guerreros, gritan: "¡La Dueña sin Piedad te santiguó!".

»Labios transidos en sombras vi con horror avisarme, y despertando en fría loma, aquí me hallé.

»Y por eso aquí hago manida solo, y pálido yerro, maguer que sequen las juncias, las aves callen.»

*

LA BELLE DAME SANS MERCI

O what can ail thee, knight-at-arms,   Alone and palely loitering? The sedge has withered from the lake,   And no birds sing!

O what can ail thee, knight-at-arms,   So haggard and so woe-begone? The squirrel’s granary is full,   And the harvest’s done.

I see a lily on thy brow,   With anguish moist and fever-dew, And on thy cheeks a fading rose   Fast withereth too.

I met a lady in the meads,   Full beautiful, a fairy's child; Her hair was long, her foot was light,   And her eyes were wild.

I made a garland for her head,   And bracelets too, and fragrant zone; She looked at me as she did love,   And made sweet moan.

I set her on my pacing steed,   And nothing else saw all day long, For sidelong would she bend, and sing   A faery's song.

She found me roots of relish sweet,   And honey wild, and manna-dew, And sure in language strange she said—   'I love thee true'.

She took me to her Elfin grot,   And there she wept and sighed full sore, And there I shut her wild, wild eyes   With kisses four.

And there she lullèd me asleep,   And there I dreamed—Ah! woe betide!— The latest dream I ever dreamt   On the cold hill side.

I saw pale kings and princes too,   Pale warriors, death-pale were they all; They cried—'La Belle Dame sans Merci   Hath thee in thrall!'

I saw their starved lips in the gloam,   With horrid warning gapèd wide, And I awoke and found me here,   On the cold hill's side.

And this is why I sojourn here,   Alone and palely loitering, Though the sedge is withered from the lake,   And no birds sing.

John Keats

di-versión©ochoislas

[katerinu]

Taking my teenage Rin design and going a step further to envision her as an adult.

I added a few more Midoriko elements like with the shoulder pads. As an adult going around on her own, I like to think she's garner quite the reputation of being a very powerful demon slaying priestess, except it's all a misunderstanding.

Sesshomaru would just outright give her Ah-Un, so similar to Sango with her own demon steed, Rin would have one, too. The many people who have seen her would dub her some kind of demon taming priestess, and be somewhat in awe of the skill she must posess to have such a beast as a ride.

She'd have a European styled sword (another gift from Sesshomaru) that she wields MASTERFULLY, but otherwise, it's just a regular sword. It's shape and size might lead people to think it's some demon sword that she's managed to either purify, or once again, "tame" which would further the image of this ultra-powerful priestess.

Having trained with Kohaku under Sango, she'd have a lot of physical strength and knowledge that most women (or even men, for that matter) just wouldn't have. In addition to what she learned under Kaede, we now have this ass-kicking, demon-taming, DOCTOR, which, once more, would lead people to assume she has some superhuman power over demons.

Luckily for her, these assumptions are never used against her. She's not ostracized for her knowledge and abilities, but practically worshipped. Humans know her as a legend akin to Midoriko, while demons recognize her as the heir to the Western Lands. (She even handles a LOT of Sesshomaru's business affairs, so she even has a name in demon circles.)

At the end of the day, she really is just an ordinary human with no powers. She tends to brute force her way through problems that leads most of them to solved with intimidation tactics alone. I also like to think of her as oblivious, not realizing what's being said about her. She's just happy to help!

She, of course, wouldn't be actually legendary like Midoriko considering everything is simply assumption and misunderstanding. Therefore whereas Midoriko IS a legend, Rin just has these 15 minutes of fame before she settles down. Rin is much more known to demons than to humans, anyway.

FINALLY, the only other thing I added was a flower clip to her hair where her side-ponytail would have gone. I figured it would be a nice touch, one that would also help recognize her as Rin, especially since otherwise... she really does look like Kagome lol.

[ill-skillsgard]

Bred For Blood - Part 17 - The White Flag

Title: Bred For Blood

Warning: 18+ - sex/mature language & themes/gun violence/substance abuse etc. *mentions of blood/injuries/death/weapons/coma/unconsciousness in this part*

Characters: AU Axel Cluney, AU Ivar Lothbrok, AU Valter x OC

Description:  A bright, young survivor meets an acid-gun slinging headhunter with a knack for melting faces and connections to a prodigal Utopia embedded in the heart of a deadly forest. Violence and passion incite a battle of fealty while betrayal nips at Zed’s heels.

Note: This one’s for Team Cluney. I really hope you guys enjoy reading! This part was very exciting for me to write for many reasons. Please reblog/like/comment if you like my work and want to give me a virtual pat on the head. I would really appreciate it, please and thank you!

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 Part 5 Part 6 Part 7 Part 8 Part 9 Part 10 Part 11 Part 12 Part 13 Part 14 Part 15 Part 16

The doctor stomped over the rocky terrain, muttering and snickering to himself as the sun cast blistering rays on their backs. The heat never bothered him, only tanned his skin to a deep brown shine. It was the walking that made his knees burn. He'd long since shed his white coat to cover the bulk of the man draped over Rudie's wiry-haired hump, trudging along at leisure. The unconscious hunter he'd found needed all the protection available from the vicious star reaching its highest point in the sky.

The doctor halted his gangly steed every hour to force a measure of water down the burnt man's ululating throat. He often succeeded, and the hunter swallowed without issue, but sometimes, the water came back up as white foam, trickling down the sides of his face and down his neck. The onset of heatstroke turned his skin apple-red, and the doctor sprayed him down with water and gusts of hot air produced by a tattered paper fan he carried with him to ward off flies. Rudie attracted the pests who made a chariot out of the man on the camel's back. They fled their caravan whenever the doctor stopped to check on his patient and settled back in for the ride after he threw the stained coat back over the hunter's burnt shoulders. This went on until nightfall when the dry land showed signs of mercy, and water and shale gave way to the soil. 

Rudie let out a guttural complaint when they reached a crop of tall, spindly trees. The diamond-shaped leaves provided shade. The doctor tethered the bleating animal, pressing his finger to his lips for a silence that would not come. Upon unsaddling the groaning man, Rudie threw his hump and sent Axel slumping to the ground, his deadweight at odds with a lengthy fall. His head cracked on a root, and a dusting of earth dried his palette, clinging to everything pink in his mouth. The camel clopped away from the whining mass who'd hitched a ride on his back, and in his wobbling dance, mashed the smallest of Axel's fingers into the soil. 

"Rudie! You bumbling old idiot! You gaffer! Shoo!"

The beast side-stepped, snorting and sputtering, indifferent to the further damage done to the man. He shook his proud head, throwing ropes of spit that webbed his lashes. The doctor punished the creature by re-wrapping Axel's hand after a stern disinfecting, withholding the proverbial oats until the animal wandered away to dine on low-hanging leaves. Rudie chuffed whenever the doctor came to retrieve supplies from the riding satchel.

"That wasn't very nice, Rude. This man is our patient! We don't trample the patients. You've no idea the level of harm you caused! He'll be lucky if we don't have to amputate, and you don't have thumbs, so you're even more useless!"

Rudie wrapped his leathery lips around a clutch of grass and ripped it free, chewing and turning away from his master and the unconscious fellow. The camel minded his business and relieved himself on a nearby rock, huffing and chomping any strand of green he sniffed. 

Axel vomited throughout the night. The doctor gave up his rest to make sure the man lying comatic didn't swallow his tongue. Then came the shivering and sickly shade of purple flaking his lips. Flaps of the doctor's paper fan spread droplets over his inflamed skin, another courtesy at the behest of his sore arm. Still, Axel moaned and scratched at the earth beneath him in bloody heat and delirium. 

"If you can hang on until tomorrow, son, perhaps we'll find some proper shade and build a hut. Hm? How's that sound? Shade and water. For now, just rest, and don't die on me." 

When the sun came up, the doctor cleaned Axel using the rest of the clean water from his reserve and stitched the open flesh splitting his eyebrow in two.

"That'll leave a nasty scar. Not that you need any more ruggedness in your act. You're just a lost soldier, sonny. But maybe one day you'll make a brilliant assistant. Better than Rudie, I hope. He hasn't even apologized for breaking your finger. Lookit him over there, shitting all over the camp, the scoundrel. But I'm the one with the oats; therefore, I make the rules!"

"M-muh... muuuh."

"Ah, in the worst of times, we still call our mothers."

"Mmph. Muh—"

"I wonder what's on the other side of those trees," the doctor said, shading his eyes with his hand, peering to the West. "You look well-travelled, sonny. Any ideas? Hate to run into any of those yawners, not knowing when your last shot was. But I suppose I shouldn't expect any valuable input from a man who can't look me in the eye."

After patching him up, the man hauled Axel to a stand and hoisted him onto the camel's back using a tree for leverage and a series of ropes to fasten him down. Once secured to Rudie's hump, the doctor took a few minutes to catch his breath. "Dunno how many more times I can get you up there, son. You must learn how to walk soon. Or I'll build you a sleigh. But that might take some time."

Far off above the foggy treeline, a sheet of ashy cloud broke to reveal bright blue sky. The doctor liked the look of cerulean and the absence of sand, so the begrimed trio lumbering through thick bush where dew still clung to the undersides of the leaves. The doctor went ahead, collecting globules before they evaporated. Rudie answered the doctor's constant rhetoric with wild groans that muffled Axel's whimpering, and they led their procession over uncertain ground.

"I reckon there's nothing but more trees over that ridge, Mr. Soldier. Maybe some mountains we can find a crevice to hide out in. Just until you get your strength back. The only thing I worry about is those damn yawners. Rudie and I will be safe, but you... I'll scout ahead to make sure it's clear. It'll rack up daylight, but you'll thank me when you're not a bubbling pile of soldier juice. Don't worry, sonny. They didn't immunize me for no reason! I count myself among the elites, but that doesn't mean I fancy myself better than you or more deserving of life. We're all in this, you see. Brights and Uns... We're still together, despite it all. They may have tried to kill you, but look at you now! Alive and well. Isn't that a slap in the face? They send you out to war and hope you never come back. They don't even have the decency to immunize you. What a world we live in."

Rudie let out a gaseous bellow. The doctor whipped around and pointed his walking stick at the quadruped. "Don't interrupt, you vile sow. Nobody needs a camel's opinion."

"Ma... Ma."

"We'll look for your mama after we get you looking presentable. Hang on tight, we're going uphill!"

As the ridge climbed, the trees grew denser. The doctor had to guide his camel through a maze of mossy trunks. Thin, whip-like branches prodded at Axel's tender skin. What leafy arms brushed Rudie's head bent back and snapped against the hunter's raw shoulders. Axel didn't notice, lost in the chimeric slurry of recent injuries. They maneuvered over stones and wove between crumbling stumps, avoiding the deadfalls. The steepled ground sloped upward like a great brown ramp of torn earth. Through the thickness, they muttered, minding their footwork, up and up, stopping here and there so the doctor could take in a few wheezing breaths. The camel—finally wary of obstacles—blew wind and groaned, hesitant on the incline. 

"Boy, there had better be some more forgiving land over this ledge. I don't think it's workable to keep climbing. We might have to turn back, depending on what I see at the top. Fingers crossed for a lake. A bath would do me good," said the doctor, fanning his underarms and thighs with the paper fan.

"What do you say, Mr. Soldier? Should we keep going? See if there's anything worthwhile over that lip?"

"Muh."

"That's what I thought. You may not be the finest soldier I've ever met, but you're persistent, and that's key. Come on, fellas. Let's pray for water, and up we go! Can't be worse than the blasted desert."

~*~

Ivar's mood reflected his recent successes in bed. When Trinity brought his meal, he thanked her, even asking about her morning and if she was sleeping all right and eating properly. Trinity laughed nervously, sensing a test, and answered with a practiced air of casualty. Did he know of the plan they'd executed to get Zed in to see him? Was his toothy smile a front? Despite her unease, she humoured the leader and left when he dug into his stew and fresh bread. Trinity also noted Zed's absence, and with the King in lively spirits, assumed everything had gone well with the plan.

Ivar inhaled his late breakfast and dressed for comfort to walk the courtyard. With a bounce in his step, he traversed the throat of the Chrysalis, emerging on the other side to a nest bereft of activity. The morning stalls had cleared out, their occupants and merchants returned to their hovels. Even the young ones—usually at play in the courtyard by now—were nowhere in sight.

Ivar passed by the last remaining group gathered around a low podium, whispering over their berry reductions and leafy salads. Like a cluster of threatened barnacles, each mouth clamped as Ivar strode past. He held his head forward, flexing his palette to clear his airways. None of them made a sound until he was far enough away. Their chattering was undiscernible as distant chirping birds. He stopped at the incline of a foothill, spinning to catch them staring at the back of his head. They snatched their eyes away and made like they weren't gawking.

That wasn't the only peculiar thing that happened to Ivar that morning. Since his prolonged absence, the people seemed to have grown used to keeping to themselves. There was no merriment in the air, only sterile drafts pouring in from the filtration system. Ivar shivered from the brisk air, stopping to consider paying Zed a visit at her apartment. A morbid urge pulled him along, and he continued his walk. Ivar waited until somebody approached him—whether it a man or child—to greet him with customary courtesy. Still, nobody shuffled forward to ask him about his day or to offer him a portion of their recent gardening. 

Ivar reached the frosted glass doors to the lab and stood still, thick hands hovering next to his narrow hips. Frozen in place, Ivar bit the tip of his tongue. Something told him Zed was inside the lab, and if he wished to see her, he had to set foot beyond the parameters of his expertise. The lab always put him in a bitter mood. It was the only place in the village that wasn't for him. Though he could visit any corner of Kinderfeld he wanted, he'd never felt welcome in the laboratory. The floors and surfaces' sterility made him cower from touching anything, and the lifeless stares he received from the few staff only reminded him of the responsibilities he'd shunned in favour of hedonism. None of them ever begrudged him his appetites, but he was confident they whispered of his ineptitude behind his back.

He wondered if Zed ever talked about him or if she'd ever vocalized displeasures regarding his leadership. Her request from the day before echoed in the corners of his mind, festering and swelling each hour they were apart. There was a bitter drop of ulterior motive in Zed's visit, and he let it slide down the back of his throat when she asked him to open the gate. But they'd made love, and that was more than Ivar expected. In his heart of hearts, he'd feared Zed would demand more; to let her fly the nest in search of Axel, but she'd taken his refusal graciously and kissed him all the same. Still, a nagging suspicion remained. Something was circulating in the air, whipping about the courts and apartments, squeezing under doorways and filling the citizens with doubts.

A stranger on his own land, Ivar lowered his eyes to the ground and turned away from the lab before he recognized any more scrutinizing glances. He powered along, ignoring the guards, their dutiful nods, cutting over the knolls as fast as his muscular thighs could take him without breaking into a run. The loneliness chased him back to his palace, and even its mouth gaped in question. 

Ivar noticed Sheraya nearby, spreading dark red petals, a gained cigar of smoking sage held between her fingers. He craved nicotine the moment the fumes peppered his nostrils. Tears coursed down her round cheeks, though she made no sobs, no whimpers. There was only gentle muttering under her breath and more tears. The king stood waiting for her to acknowledge him and then realized she had no intention of breaking her prayer mantra. 

Shunned, Ivar turned away, retreating to his house of lush fabric and solitude where he should never have left.

~*~

Vee insisted Zed stay put while he fetched them dinner. Their setting was the top floor of the greenhouse where he'd played cards and got drunk with his brother some nights. Nobody ever bothered them up there. Zed sat in waiting, enjoying the greenery, the twisting vines and canary yellow zucchini blooms. She stretched an arm out to pluck a flower and nibble its petals. Her stomach gurgled for heavier fare, so she ate another. Vee didn't keep her waiting long after, showing up with a basket of seed-crusted bread and a bowl of sliced potatoes slathered in basil paste and cooked to a crisp. For dessert, he brought dried fruit and freshly harvested cashews. 

Moonlight vaulted through the trees, defusing over the glass and casting milky shadows on the greenhouse floor. The air was moist with freshly irrigated soil. Baked in the dimness, Zed couldn't take her eyes off the man sitting in front of her. He'd brought with him the game from their youth, but neither of them suggested opening the box. They smiled as they ate, breathing in the deep aromas and savouring their food together. And in the balmy atmosphere decked in silver light, Zed swore Vee was his brother's twin. Her heart shuddered in remembrance. It was what brought them together; the shared sense of guilt and the strengthening suspicion they'd both lost someone, both failed and scorned by the people who'd invested too much faith in their competence. Zed felt at peace beside him.

The scientist was still a welcome member of the village, hence his aptitude for finding rarer delicacies like wine and ripe figs. They split the skins and scooped out the sweet innards, indulging their tongues on the fruit as if it was the richest of luxuries.

"You know what I would absolutely love to eat again?" Zed asked, sucking seeds from between her teeth.

"Popsicles," Vee answered.

"Close, but no. Chocolate ice cream. I'd kill for some chocolate ice cream right now. "

Vee shook his head. "No way. Strawberry all the way."

"A hot fudge sundae with peanuts and a big maraschino cherry."

"Peanut butter sauce."

"Oh, my God. Don't say that," Zed groaned.

"It's so good. I can't remember the last time I had ice cream. Remember when you could walk a couple blocks in the Summer and buy an ice cream cone?"

Zed smiled, but the thought pricked her memory. "The last time I got ice cream was with my Dad. I got the biggest chocolate sundae, with peanut butter cups and chocolate sprinkles. He told me there was a full day-and-a-half's worth of calories in it, but I didn't care. It was after a soccer game. I didn't like soccer, but if I went to practice every week and scored at least one goal, he'd take me out for ice cream. Two goals meant I got ice cream and five dollars."

Zed sighed, continuing, "I hate thinking about the last times. Like at one point, you did something for the very last time. The last trip for ice cream. The last time you told someone you loved them."

"If you hate thinking about last times, then why are you doing it right now?" Vee asked, eyes blank as discs.

She grimaced, reaching out to touch the toe of her shoe to his, then softening her face. "I can't help it sometimes. Don't tell me you've never thought about how it used to be. You don't have to look at everything so logically."

"I don't," Vee said. "I just rather not think about those times."

"I'm sorry. Is it?—Never mind."

"My fiancé and my kid? Yes. It's always them."

Zed set her dish aside and scooted beside Vee, pressing her back against the wooden barrier of the melon patch, mirroring his position, her mouth just as dead grim as his.

"You seem to handle it well enough. But I understand. I think everyone lost something important to them," Zed offered. 

Vee sighed, turning his face to the floor, cutting off the glistening whites of his eyes from view. "Found out she was pregnant the night before I left to work for the army."

"The army?"

"Yes. I had a knack for inventing. You've seen the ammunition I designed for Axel. And it takes a special gun to fire something that lethal without complication. They wanted that kind of technology and offered me a nauseating amount of money to oversee mass production. The only smart thing I ever did was refuse to sell myself. It cost me my family, but I can say with certainty Axel is the only person besides me who's fired one of them. Could you imagine what the world would be like if those had gotten into the wrong hands?"

Zed bottled talk of acid and bloodshed with a shiver and a firm hand on Vee's wrist. "Enough of that. Please. Tell me about her—your fiancé. Let's just... Remember them fondly. I don't want to think about the bullshit out there."

"You'd rather stay inside these bubbles, ignoring a second societal collapse in the making?"

"Yes. I'd rather enjoy my time here with you, listening to nicer stories. This is all that's left. I don't want to think about where we went wrong or right. Let's just talk about what made us happy."

Vee nudged her shoulder. "Why can't we talk about what makes us happy now?"

She giggled and rested her temple on his shoulder. Vee curled his wrist around her knee, and their fingers intertwined. He leaned his head on hers like they had in his apartment before Lora caught them, this time with his heart pumping in double-time. 

"What makes you happy now?" Zed asked him.

"Not talking about dead relatives."

"Okay, true. Let's not. So... What are you content with?"

"You," Vee blurted.

Zed's chest tightened. Vee let go of her hand and angled his torso toward her. "I'm sorry. It's difficult for me not to... Stick to you. If I'm honest... You look like her, Lea. I really hate how much you remind me of her. And I don't want to use you to fill the void. It's wrong, but I can't help it. Everywhere I look, I'm reminded of how much I lost. And you're so understanding. You don't have all these expectations."

"Vee—"

"I don't want you to think I'm coming onto you. You don't owe me anything. All I'm saying is, I'd be happy to stick together."

"We will! I want to stick with you, too."

Vee combed his blond hair back, pinching his brows together. "Lea... I want you to tell me no, right now."

"No? What do you mean?" Zed asked.

"Tell me there's no chance in Hell we'll ever get together. If I have it planted in my mind, then that's that. But if you don't, and we continue hanging out like this, getting closer... I might... Think there's a way."

"Valter..."

"Axe knew what he was doing when he brought you here...when he introduced us. Yes, he wanted protection for you, but he also wanted you and me to hit it off. I could tell. He'd never admit it, but I know him. You're perfect for me, but I've seen how others treat you, and I refuse to do the same. I don't want to perform tricks to impress you into sleeping with me like Ivar, but I don't want to stifle my feelings like... Axel. So you need to shut me down, right now. If there's a firm barrier, my mind will reroute, avoiding any possibility—"

"Stop," Zed said. "Please, just stop."

"I'm sorry. I shouldn't have brought any of that up."

"No, it's good to speak your mind. I appreciate the honesty, even if it took months to hear."

"It would have been inappropriate if I brought it up. When we had research and pressing issues, it was easy to ignore how familiar you seemed. Now I'm at a stalemate, and you're still here, and Axel's gone. I can't pretend like I don't want to spend my time with you. But I'll stay off your heels, I swear. Just friends."

"I'm not telling you no," Zed murmured. "Maybe at some point, I wanted to fall in love, but now I know that's foolish. Love can't exist in this world anymore. Not without great suffering, and I don't want to suffer anymore. Truthfully, I don't even want to get close to you, Valter, because I'm afraid someone or something will take it away."

"Nothing will take me away."

Zed shook her head, knocking a tear loose. "Don't say that. You can't make that promise. I don't want any more broken promises."

The scientist nodded while a cloud of vapour seethed from the sprinkler heads above the raised garden beds, thickening the air and clinging to their skin. A long silence pervaded, and Zed held her breath until Vee shuffled away to retrieve Wayfare of Austea. He dropped the box before her feet and grinned widely.

"Come on then, let's play. No more doom and gloom for a while."

~*~

Ivar spent the same evening pacing in his room. He went to the private alcove he assigned to the woman on his mind. Zed was fickle, and he didn't want to dash his chances with her by smothering, but something in his stomach wouldn't settle. He'd even dismissed his guard, encouraging another visit, yet she hadn't shown. Ivar buckled under the suspicion that she was angry with him, and her absence was his punishment.

Never the man to deny himself, he made for the Hives. If Zed was alone, surely she'd welcome his company. She'd said it herself: she wasn't one to sleep with just anyone, and he was far from just anyone. He was King, and this was his realm.

Despite his self-reassurance, Ivar carried doubts that manifested on his face. He passed a few citizens, drawing eyes with his acidic mug and ignored them all the way to Zed's door. 

She didn't answer the door after he knocked. He reasoned she might be asleep, though it was shy of nine o'clock—early for most but not an unusual time to sleep. Before he turned away, he twisted the handle and cracked the door open an inch, letting out the dark.

"Lea? Are you in here?"

Stagnant silence answered, and he shut the door before anyone saw him. Ivar went to the door on the left and found that one locked. He grimaced, turned from the apartments and left for the lab. 

On his way through the courtyard, Ivar saw Nalani and Trinity walking arm-in-arm, engaged in private discussion. Their frantic doe-eyes widened to see him.

"Have you seen Lea?" Ivar asked.

"She should be home, I think," said Trinity.

Nalani shrugged her bare shoulders, still clutching her friend's hand. "I thought she'd be with you, Ivar."

He sneered at the women. "No curtsy? No formality? Has everyone forgotten who's in charge around here?"

The two pressed their arms together, quietly apologizing and stepping aside for Ivar. He stalked toward the lab, holding his breath while throwing open the doors and turning the corner to find the rooms gutted of materials. The refrigerator hummed, and the overhead light flickered, barren and reeking of sterilization.

Ivar examined the dustless surfaces, curious but not enough to go digging through desk drawers. He went down the hall and stopped in front of Vee's door, clearing his airways again to sharpen his ears. There were no voices. Ivar knocked and went unanswered.

He turned in time to see the first door in the hall open and Lora's head poking out. She wore the same displeasure on her face, adjusting her reading glasses while her body caught up with her neck.

"If you're looking for Vee, he's hiding away with that woman everyone is up in arms about," Lora said.

"Hiding away? With Lea?"

"Yeah, whatever her name is. They haven't been here since I caught them getting up close and personal in Vee's room."

Ivar's stomach flipped, his head buzzed. Lora took great pleasure in the snagging of his mouth. She had been fuming by herself, finding specks of dust to brush away to keep her mind off her superior who'd run away with the girl she'd grown to distrust. Lora was a woman of insecurity, easily threatened by others but quick to bite back when given a chance. After she'd found Vee shoulder-to-shoulder with Zed in his apartment, Lora waited for any opportunity to drive a wedge between her beloved head scientist and the newcomer from the desert. Now was the perfect opportunity to damage Zed. 

"What do you mean?" Ivar asked.

"You know what I mean, sir. They were practically on top of each other."

Ivar had no reason to discount Lora's claim. She'd proven herself a trusted and valuable member of the village long ago and never caused a ripple of dispute. The folding of her face and iron-clad seriousness was all the King needed to believe what she told him.

"Where are they?"

"I assume—if they're smart—hiding in one of the greenhouses. I wouldn't be surprised if you caught them naked in the strawberry bushes."

Ivar scoffed and rushed away. Lora watched until he disappeared, then went back inside the incubation room and put on a pair of gloves. There was an electric cooler housing blood samples, one from each member of the village. Lora selected a sample from the bottom tray and shuffled to the sink, turning on the tap while reading the label. Popping the top off the vial, she upended the sample and drained the blood away.

Ivar did better than storming the greenhouses in search of Zed. There were slinkier things on his mind. If he caught her in the act with the scientist, only then would he justify blowing up. For now, he snuck through the grounds with his focus tuned and his breath steady. 

 "What's next for me? I've tried to convince him to let someone go, but he refuses. Do we just exist here now, with no way to move forward? Forever trapped in this moon unit."

"He'll come to his senses," Vee said with meagre hopefulness. "Ivar's full of himself, but he's not stupid."

"Well, let's count on those senses coming soon," Zed snorted.

"Speaking of Ivar... Do you think he's wondering where you are? You did just... You know. If that happened to me, I'd be thinking about it for a while. Wondering after you. Well, not you—'cause we never... Heh. Ah, shit. You get my meaning, right?"

"Mr. Cluney, are you flustered? I don't think I've ever heard you fumble your words before."

"I don't mean to be coarse."

"Don't worry. We'll get through this. Ivar has to see reason… We need to tell him about the ones who died."

"I'll tell him. It should be me," Vee said, stacking the playing cards back in the plastic tray lining of the frayed box. 

Zed helped by gathering pieces, separating them into their individual quadrants next to the cards. She set her eyes dead on the floor after they finished packing the game away, sighing in contemplation.

"Who will go?"

Vee frowned. They shared a strained minute of silence interrupted by another burst of spray in the air. Their shirts stuck to their backs, legs aching from crossing and uncrossing. Zed handed the box to Vee.

"Maybe it should be me," she said.

"Absolutely not. You can't leave. It's too dangerous out there, and you don't have to put your life on the line. There's only two people who should go. Me or Ivar."

"You're too important to lose, Vee. That's what Axel wants. I know if he had a dying wish for me, it would be to look out for you. For us to do everything we can to survive."

"Within capability. I'm not a killer, Zed. I'm not like Axel."

Zed smirked, the merciless flames dancing in her belly again, the same ones she'd felt when she screamed at Lora. She'd harboured the noxious warmth before. It was a friend to her.

"But I am...I'm a killer."

Vee set his jaw firmly, scoffing, unable to disagree. "Listen, Rambo. Even armed to the teeth, you're still not going out there alone."

"And neither are you if you go."

"You think Ivar will leave his precious cocoon? I don't think so. He'll probably send one of his guys out to never come back."

Zed shook her head, tired of the speculation. "This is ridiculous. Anyone should be able to come and go as they please. It's tyranny to tell them they can't leave if they want to. I thought this was a place of free will? What happened to the promised land?"

"Same thing that always happens when one person is left in charge."

"On that, we agree."

They left the greenhouse with much to think about, hugged goodbye in the courtyard and separated—Zed toward the Hives and Vee following the path to his room. 

 The next morning Zed awoke to guards butting on all the doors, yelling for everyone to get to the courtyard. The racket came after a long night of tossing and turning. Her eyes were tight with unrest, her head throbbing, but she put on jeans and a plain white t-shirt with a single breast pocket, similar to the ones Ivar wore.

The citizens filed from the Hives, murmuring and looking around worriedly. Guards stood by to direct the traffic to the medical tent-turned-backdrop. The booth topped the steepest hill in the plaza, out of use for the past few weeks. They pooled around the base of the hill in collective confusion, looking up as Ivar took advantage of the blank vinyl behind him.

Ivar cast a proud smile over the congregation. He summoned everyone from their hiding spots without having to lift a finger and brought them into the light spilling through the checkered dome on high. He waited until he spotted Zed and Vee coming in from their separate tubes, relaxing a bare inch when they didn't arrive together. They cut their ways to the front of the throng and noticed each other right away. Ivar saw the troubled looks they exchanged and sneered.

"Is this everyone?" Ivar called to the head of his guard.

An armed man standing off to the East with a few others gave Ivar a thumbs up. The King nodded, then proceeded, his expression toward his people fresh with tenacity.

"Ladies and gentlemen of Kinderfeld. I've asked you all here to bring you some news. It has taken me a long time to come to this decision, and for my delay, I apologize. I don't take this lightly... We've lost members of our family, and my heart is broken. I've spent too long trying to think of a way to bring trade back to our village. We need supplies, yes, and medics. I understand these things because I've survived before. All of us must exist as a unit, each one pledged to the survival of our crew."

The people looked on with widening eyes. Hearts that once sang for Ivar's monologues found their tune. All of them but Azalea and the other Cluney brother. Ivar burned them with ocular venom, hoisting his smile into a morbid curve. Zed let shoulders and legs swallow her back into the crowd, but not deep enough to block her view of the head scientist glaring back at the leader.

"I forbid travel for your protection. There are dangers outside of our walls. People whose only purpose is to hunt and kill. I don't have to remind you of the horrors we've suffered or the love we've cultivated here in our home. You were all there. Some of you longer than others. They built these walls to protect us—the ones who choose love instead of hate."

Ivar clasped his hands behind his back and took splinted steps back and forth on his makeshift stage. He fashioned himself contemplative, but his eyes shone with intent.

"With that being said... We cannot wait for luck to come to us. This planet is evolving each day. Nature is reclaiming the land, and it will swallow us in its majesty. We will be lost if we don't take action."

"What do we do?" Someone called from the center of the gathering. The fiery-haired father who'd earned his keep cooking and training his son stood out as the shouter. Ivar didn't smile at him so much as he cast his grace upon the redheaded man clutching the freckled boy by the shoulders.

"I'm glad you asked, sir... We are a unity. A tribe of people who want to live in harmony, am I wrong?"

Several shook their heads, others muttered together, a dull drone of tired voices.

"Then we should vote. Does anyone care to nominate themselves or another?"

The apprehension pivoted and picked up with a few gasps. Heads swivelled in search of somebody bold enough to champion themselves for exploration. Vee continued glaring at Ivar. The king returned the glower.

"I'll go!" 

Zed gasped after the words left Vee's mouth. He stepped forth, unbreaking under Ivar's challenging eyes.

"So we have one volunteer. Our beloved head of research and weapons development. A very noble gesture! Does anyone else wish to nominate themselves?" Ivar asked. He opened his arms, beseeching a reply with postured hope.

"Nobody should go alone!" Zed shouted.

"Yeah, we need a team!"

Ivar motioned for the crowd to quiet down. Once they simmered, looking on with palpable anticipation, he inhaled deeply for the next addressing.

"We're running low on men to keep our hold. The brunt of the firepower needs to remain here in case of attack," Ivar reasoned.

"I'll go alone. I don't care. We can't stand around any longer!" Vee said, his chest puffed, much to the surprise of the people who knew him.

Ivar barked a few dry laughs, disguising his pleasure to everyone but Zed and the man who'd volunteered to brave the elements. "I suppose if nobody has any objections...Vee will be the one to go. As badly as it tears me to say so... You are the perfect man for the job. Brother, I wish you all the luck."

Zed broke away from the gather and hammered her legs up the incline toward Vee and Ivar, pumping her fists until she reached them.

"Ivar, you can't do this! We can't send people out alone. At least let me go with him!"

"No!" Ivar and Vee shouted at once.

"What are you going to do to stop me? After your decree about peace and harmony, what will you do to keep me from leaving Kinderfeld?"

Ivar adopted her heated expression. "Azalea, stay out of this."

"No. I won't! Not after what happened to Axel. We have to assemble a team! Don't tell me to stay out when neither of you has seen the carnage!"

"Of course you want to go, Lea. All you care about is finding Axel. You used me and hoped I wouldn't figure out you're trying to leave. You never cared about me. You try to act like you're so innocent and respectful, but you're just like everyone else."

"Because I don't want people to die? Ivar, I understand you're trying to protect everyone, but sending men out for slaughter won't help our cause. Please," Zed whimpered. "Set aside our personal issues and try to see the bigger picture."

Ivar cooled suddenly. He patronized Zed with a frantic nod and a forced grin. "All right, Azalea. Consider our personal issues permanently set aside. You got your way. One of the guards will go with Vee. Now, go. I have heard your voice."

The guards gathered around Ivar and Vee, their conversation clipped and sheltered from the citizens by a lineup of broad-shouldered men carrying weapons of varying levels of brutality. Zed stepped away, cowering under the firm looks she received from Ivar's men. Though she bowed out of the political bubble, she stayed close by, watching Vee's sour face muttering umbrage at the King. The other citizens broke off into smaller clusters, chosen families and cliques gathering to discuss the ruling. 

A hand slid over Zed's shoulder, and she whirled to find Sheraya bowing her head. "You've done what you can."

"No, I haven't!" Zed nipped. "I should go with him. I'm not afraid of the outside anymore."

"You don't have to be the hero, Azalea. You must survive."

"I have survived. I'm good at it."

"You're needed here. The young ones have to learn from the women."

"Sheraya... I can't let Vee go. I can't."

The elder took hold of Zed's clammy palm, pressing the lines with her thumb. Zed buckled as tears sprung from the corners of her eyes. "He's all I have, Sheraya."

"The only one you ever truly have is yourself. Think about that before you take your heart's path and not your brain's. Look hard into the future."

"I'm trying," Zed sobbed.

"Azalea, I mean it. Your future is important."

Sheraya left her with a warm peck on the cheek and a growing sense of bewilderment. Zed looked around at the people, the hills and the courtyard beyond, the flatland where they set up their booths and entertained each other. Envisioning life beyond the safety of their walls overcame Zed with grief. She'd won, but the conditions were too heavy for her to bear. Now her last friend prepared for expulsion. 

Vee took his charge seriously. Zed saw his raw determination as they hashed out a plan. Several times, she stopped herself from storming their parley, anchoring herself to the ground with locked knees and her arms folded over her breasts.

For a long time, the conversation went on, and most of the villagers went about their morning routines, gathering to cook and gossip of the turbulent state of politics. Zed stayed close enough to catch Vee when they finally broke for action, but the men showed no signs of agreement. Ivar had to hush some more uproarious guards, leashing them down with an assuring hand on the shoulder to stop them from infecting the others with their rancour.

Zed spotted a guard sprinting from the warehouse limits. The desperate look on his face alerted her, and she stepped out of sight around the corner of the medical tent, still close enough to listen.

The man approached, panting and calling for Ivar's attention. Zed snuck a peek and saw the group retire from their conference, distracted by their comrade.

"Jackson, what's the matter?"

"It's Zee. It's him! One of the guys found some doctor dragging him through the forest."

"A doctor?" Ivar repeated. "How do you know?"

"He says so. Says his name is Simpson... Or was it Samson?"

"Samson!" Zed yelled, running from her cover toward the reporting guard. "Did you say the doctor's name is Samson?"

"Yeah, Samson," the man huffed, stunned by the woman's sudden appearance.

"Bring him in! Right now. Go get them and bring him to me!" Zed demanded.

"Now, wait a minute," Ivar said. "How do we know we can trust this guy?"

"If it's the Samson I know, we can trust him. Ivar, please. I'll vouch for him if it's who I think it is."

"Who gives a shit, he's got my brother!"

Zed vaulted after Vee, tailed by the guards and Ivar. The march heralded interest from the citizens, and soon, onlookers roved toward the warehouse. Vee turned to the guard who'd brought the news and slapped him on the shoulder. "Go tell them to let Axel and the doctor inside."

"Sir," the guard nodded, jogging ahead to the entrance where two other men stood, baffled and conflicted without orders.

"Let them in!" Zed cried out.

They waited with bursting lungs. It seemed an hour crawled by before a shadowed heap of arms appeared at the mouth of the entrance. Flanked by two guards holding him upright, they carried Axel inside, his head of matted brown hair dangling lifelessly between his shoulders, limp tattooed arms slung around their necks. Zed ran to him and propped his chin up in her hand, heart palpitating, head rushing.

"Axel! Oh my God. You're alive!"

"Now, now, miss. Don't waste too much breath speaking to him. He can't understand you."

Zed turned toward the familiar voice. Samson hobbled in next to a guard who'd taken on his load—a heavy satchel, a duffel bag and two tweed suitcases. Filth and the briny stink of body odour and piss wafted through the tunnel with them. Most recoiled from the stench.

"Doctor Samson, do you remember me? From the bloodbank."

"Ah, yes, of course, I remember you, Zed! You used to zip around on your motorbike, looking for scrap metal and something to eat."

"Yes, yes! I didn't think I'd see you again."

"The chances of us meeting were rather slim, I agree, and I have to say it's lovely to find you in this magnificent bubble here. You can see this splendid little valley from the North. We were hoping for water, but this is much better. Um, speaking of water, where might I find some? Mr. Soldier and I are rather parched. Oh, and I left my camel parked outside. Do you validate?" Samson said with a jolt of wild laughter.

Zed didn't mean to be rude, but turning away from Samson was far too easy when Axel hung before her like a damp towel on a clothesline. She wanted to hold him, to join in as support to get him a surface to lie upon, but she resisted. 

Ivar butt in and directed the escort to take Axel to the laboratory, then turned to Zed, scorning the tears in her eyes.

"Looks like you got your wish, Lea. Axel's back. Your life can go back to normal," Ivar said as the rest of them rushed away with the hunter and the doctor in tow.

It was only them, facing off on the hill. Zed quelled the wildfire in her belly with a painful swallow. A debate with Ivar served no purpose, so she turned from him, solemn and absolute.

"You've given me a lot, Ivar. I thank you for that. Hopefully soon, you and I will see eye to eye again, and we can live peacefully, as you said."

She angled down the hill, hurrying toward the laboratory. 

Nobody stopped her from entering the stand-in hospital room. Vee had been worrying over his brother, grimacing at his crudely wrapped hand, violet dark and lame at his side. They'd already stripped him naked and laid a blanket over his lower extremities, so the bruises spraying his ribs screamed in the whiteness. His skin was bright red and glossy, shoulders scabbed with burns. With all his muscles slackened, Axel spilled over the bed, deadweight and loose-jawed.

"What happened?" Zed asked, turning to the doctor propped up in a gurney, sipping from a jug of water.

"I can't say for sure," said Samson. "He was comatose when I found him baking in the desert. That's one lucky man, right there. Lucky he crawled his sorry ass to where he did. Otherwise, I might have missed him by a mile."

"What should we do, Samson? How do I make him come out of it?" 

"Oh, we can never be sure. It could be a few days, weeks... Months. My suggestion is to regulate his body temperature, treat his wounds and burns, and hope for the best."

Zed turned back to the unconscious man. She spotted the clumps of dirt in his hair, the scrapes on his elbows and mud-caked fingernails and her panic increased.

"Somebody bring me washcloths, soap and water right now!"

"I'd be mighty careful cleaning those burns, Zed. He's got some good blisters forming. And mind his hand."

"I will, I will," Zed nodded. "Just tell me what to do."

"Can I bother someone for a snack?" Asked Samson.

The guards who'd toted them into the lab stuck around until no longer needed. Zed refused help from anyone except Vee after Trinity brought them a bucket of warmed water, and Lora provided antiseptic. They started cleaning Axel gently, beginning with the grime under his nails. Samson ate from a bowl of mixed fruits, humming in delight from the nectar sliding down his throat. 

Zed moved Axel's injured arm with great care and washed away the smears of dirt marring his tattoos, applying disinfectant to the cuts. Vee worked on the opposite side of the bed, combing out the chunks in his hair. Once in awhile, Zed met Vee's eyes, and he'd nod or give her a forced grin.

Axel's unconsciousness only registered later in the night after they'd cleaned him and swapped a few words of astonishment. Zed stayed nearby, wishing his eyes open, but every hopeful breath gave way to disappointment. Lost in the blankness of his mind, Axel floated.

Even Lora surrendered to the sobering tension, making herself available to Vee only. Zed didn't concern herself with the woman. Her mind was awash with relief and worry for the friend who'd found his miraculous way back home. Nothing else mattered but the battered man lying in slumber on the hospital bed.

Samson fell asleep, and Vee left after long, touching Zed's shoulder before excusing himself. He promised to come back as soon as he'd had some rest. Zed nodded, squeezing his hand for a lingering moment, then releasing him. Sleep had no chance of overtaking her, so she stayed next to Axel, balling herself up in one of the office chairs, listening to his wheezing and sticking her fingers under his scruffy jaw to check his pulse every time he went silent.

When it was only her, Axel, and Samson sleeping in the room, she leaned over the bed and brushed her palm over Axel's scaly forehead. She avoided his singed nose, the curving laceration above his left eye and the peeling skin on the crests of his cheeks, touching his jaw and stroking his hair a few times.

"Don't worry, everything's okay now. You're back where you're safe."

The woman slumped into the chair, propping her heavy head on her elbow. She watched his chest rise and fall for a few minutes, plates of seared skin stretching tight over his ribcage, and fought off the urge to doze alongside him.

"Mmph-uh... Muh."

Zed's eyes snapped open. "Axel? Did you speak?"

"Hmm," he thrummed.

"Can you hear me, Axel? It's me, Zed. Azalea. Do you recognize my voice?"

Axel's throat went quiet, the enfeebled notes fading back to obscurity. Zed tried to get him mumbling again, but the hunter remained still.

"It's okay. I promise, I'll make you better. You're home now, and I'm not going anywhere until you’re better, okay, Axel? Don’t worry. You’re at home with me."

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[assassins-and-hidden-blades]

Arrows & Accidents

Request: Can I request an Ezio imagine with a gender neutral or male reader where the reader is or was a student of Ezio's and has gotten themselves injured.

Warnings: Violence, graphic detail of wound/treatment, swearing in Italian, LOTS of Italian lmfao (translations at the end)

Tagging: @marshmallow--3​ / @yourlocalfrenchie​ (I know it’s a male reader but I still tagged you guys jic)

13/06/2020: Lmao I almost killed you guys… oops. Also, this is 2.9K -- I spent all day on this because once I sorted out the plot, everything else was just *chef’s kiss* hope you enjoy!

Requested by @timbreavery​

----------

“You need to hit harder, Y/N.” Ezio reflected your blade effortlessly. 

“I don’t want to hurt you by mistake.”

“Who says you’ll hurt me?” He smirked, twirling his sword with a flair. 

You nodded in affirmation, and began to hail a stronger assault. Although it wasn’t enough to overwhelm Ezio, it was certainly stronger than before.

On a defensive hit, his sword sent yours flying across the training ground. “A better effort, mi amico,” he nodded approvingly. 

“Pfft.” You scoffed, going to pick up your discarded weapon. In the seconds you weren’t looking, an unknown force came into contact with your back, sending you flying to the floor and away from your sword. You laid still when you felt a blade come into contact with the back of your neck. 

“Mario is sending you on a mission which I don’t agree with. Personalmente, you do not have the experience. So you need to be ready, Y/N, or you will get hurt.” 

When he was finished, you grabbed his wrist and forcefully brought the heel of your boot into his back. It allowed you to move the blade away from your neck. With Ezio’s balance compromised, you pushed into him until he hit the ground beside you, your arm pressing against his neck and pinning his arm beside him. 

“I think I’ll be fine, Ezio.” You released him and offered a hand to help him up before readying your retrieved blade. 

“Ora, un altro?”

----------

As the sun began to set, approached the site that overran itself with Templars. Your target was the Captain, who was hiding in the area. Although it was littered in ruins, you knew the general location of him, and you were ready to bring an end to his havoc. There is rarely a proper way to prepare one to end another’s life, and normally you would avoid it at all costs, but when the end of one life could bring freedom to many, it was hard to debate the argument of life for someone so evil. 

Slowly, you weaved your way in between pillars. There were so many ways you could lose the upper hand, and so you kept vigilant when you moved. As you peered around the column, you saw him. He was patrolling with four other guards, and after assessing the situation, you weighed your options: 

You could use a throwing knife on your target and a smoke bomb to distract. 

To be more accurate, you could use a smoke bomb and charge in, hidden blade unsheathed. 

“Assassino!”

Oh, great. 

As guards unsheathed their swords and crossbows, you pointed your gauntlet at your target and let a bullet fly. As soon as the bang erupted in the air, you felt something pierce your abdomen, the force of it sending you backwards to the ground. 

Although your target got hit in the neck, you were equally as compromised in your side.

Before they could get too close, you scrambled to your feet and vaulted over a small wall, keeping your hand pressed against the wound on your waist. You kept obstacles between you and your opponents, knowing that the only way to survive was to escape. As you reached the edge of the ruins, you spotted a horse grazing on some hay. Wasting no time, you mounted the white mare, kicking your heels into her ribs as she took off towards the city. 

You had one hand holding the reins as the other reached for the foreign object embedded in your muscle; it was an arrow. Grasping the shaft, you snapped it in half, wincing as it shifted under your skin. 

As you reached the city, you began to turn harsh corners to stay out of your pursuers’ line of sight. Once you deemed it far enough away, you dismounted and hit your stolen steed on the flank, making sure she fled through the streets. Eyeing a side alley, you slipped between flailing drunkards before turning one last corner, fully out of sight. Moving like you had had caused the arrowhead to move, and in doing so your robes were coloured more with crimson than with its original white. You slid down against the wall clutching your wound, needing to slow the world as it spun around you. The adrenaline was wearing off and the pain was increasing tenfold. Feeling the blood soak your palm, you toyed with the idea of pulling it out to save your flesh from tearing more (or to bring death faster).

You knew you had to get back to Tiber Island, but you were sure that you’d draw too much unwanted attention to yourself if you took the main roads, and would almost certainly collapse without a horse. You rested your head against the bricks, willing an idea to pop into your clouded brain. 

Small thuds beside you caught your attention, and you turned your head to see a group of thieves land next you. One of them, who was probably the one in charge, pulled your hood off your head, taking in your features; pale, sweaty, barely conscious. “It’s Y/N!” He exclaimed. His eyes turned to the others. “Riccardo, get Ezio. Tell him that we’re bringing him to La Volpe Addormentata. Sbrigatevi!” One of the leanest nodded his head and took off running down the alleys. “Ora,” he spoke softer now. “Aiutami con lui.” 

Two of them grabbed your arms and lifted you to your unsteady feet. The movement stretched your side. “Agh!” Your legs buckled, and your sudden dead weight pulled everyone to their knees. 

“Mio Dio,” the leader uttered. “You! Get a horse!” You heard as feet thundered against cobblestones. “Y/N, you must move.” You looked at him in anguish; he seemed twice your age, and had a fatherly look of trust in his eye. 

“Non posso…” The crimson had spread from your waist and was not being absorbed by the fabric anymore, dripping onto the ground. 

“Yes, you can; just to the main street.” You could vaguely hear horses in front of you at the end of the alley. 

You took a deep breath, calming yourself, before you nodded weakly, head hanging low. Step by step, you were half dragged to the mouth of the alleyway. Someone was already mounted on the horse as you were being hoisted in the saddle. It was a mercenary, much bigger than you, and you held on tight to the saddle with one hand as you were sent off galloping down the street, a small entourage following you. With every bump in the saddle, an ache pounded in your head; you were having trouble keeping awake, but the harsh movements wouldn’t let you go under. 

You weren’t very aware of your surroundings when the horse came to a stop. Sitting firm, you waited for the mercenary behind you to dismount, and you attempted to follow suit. Tripping in the stirrups, the impact of the floor sent your mind reeling, your foot getting trapped in the metal. Pain radiated through your body as you fell on the protruding arrow shaft. Groaning, you weakly pushed yourself up to your hands and knees, dazed and confused. “Andiamo, ragazzo.” Multiple hands heaved you off of the dirt ridden paths, hauling you up the stairs and into the Thieves’ Headquarters.

“La Volpe!” The hooded man revealed himself by the entrance. 

His eyes assessed the situation in a second. “Bring him into the back.” People parted quickly to make space for you all to make it through. “Put him on the table.” You were turned to sit down, before slowly being lowered to lie against the wood. 

Finally being out of the streets and safe in your surroundings, you allowed yourself to relax, to close your eyes, to maybe spend a few moments asleep… 

“Y/N.” Someone patting your cheek got your eyes to reluctantly open. “Leonardo and Ezio are here.” 

Leonardo?

You swallowed thickly, not having the energy to respond other than letting your head roll to the side. As they came in, you could half-make out what they were saying. “Those doctors… will be of no use to us… I know my way around a wound.” It was Leonardo, rambling on as he was gathering the relevant supplies. 

You blinked, and Ezio towered above you. “Ah, amico mio, mi dispiace tanto.” 

Before you could respond, a hand twisted the embedded arrow shaft. You threw your head back as you cried out, hands flying to the culprit’s hand. 

“Leonardo!” Ezio chastised. 

“I needed to know if it was stuck in the bone!” He quickly justified his actions, hands raising in surrender. “Take his armour off.” 

Quickly, your upper robes were discarded, leaving your chest bare and your injury exposed. You heard the movement of metal tools before you felt something cold touch your skin. Looking down, you saw a small blade that touched the edge of the arrow wound. You grasped Leonardo’s wrist. “No, please…” Pain was hitting every nerve and muscle, and you desperately wished you were unconscious, but the fact that you weren’t meant you were going to feel everything, and at this point, you wanted to feel nothing.

Leonardo looked at Ezio and La Volpe. “Hold him down.” 

Ezio grasped your hand with one of his before using his other one to put weight on your elbow, effectively pinning you to the table. La Volpe followed suit. “I don’t like this, Leonardo,” Ezio said, looking nervous.

The artist looked up seriously. “You don’t have to.”

You felt the blade sink into your skin. The lower half of your body was numb, but your back tried to arch at the intrusion; an attempt to get away. You were hyper aware of his fingers moving inside your flesh, poking at the metal inside you. “This type of arrow does not do too much damage, but it has hooked onto an organ.” Although Leonardo’s voice was calm, you couldn’t help but writhe. You could feel everything the arrow (and Leonardo) touched, finally managing to begin drifting in and out of consciousness, after what felt like hours of pain.

You were too tired. 

You heard Leonardo bracing you for removing the arrow, but you were completely limp in Ezio and La Volpe’s grasp. You swallowed again, eyes rolling back. Your face scrunched weakly as you winced; the arrow finally relinquishing its position, too tired to scream and shout. Stifling a groan, you slightly jumped when the pressure of a fabric was being applied in place of Leonardo’s fingers. The last thing you heard before your vision blacked out was, “We’re not done yet.”

----------

There were three instances where you briefly came to since then. The first was as your wound was being bandaged. “What are his chances?” Ezio’s voice echoed in your ear.

“Of survival?” Your eyes barely opened for a second to lock with Leonardo’s. “Small.” Although his face was comforting, his words weren’t. All too quickly, you lost consciousness again. 

The second time, you could feel your body moving as you were taken off the table and onto something soft but sturdy. Your head rolled to the side and your eyes opened to see Leonardo washing his hands in a basin. “Con attenzione, ora!” You felt your arm fall off the side of the platform you were being moved on. The rocking lulled you back into darkness.

You didn’t remember these instances.

The third and final time you came to, you had a hard time opening your eyes. It felt as if they had been sealed shut. An involuntary hum grew in your throat as you brought your arm up to rub your eyes. Even that simple movement left you aching for reasons you couldn’t remember yet. You brought your hand away as you opened your eyes. Looking around, your brows furrowed.

This wasn’t your bed, or your room… 

Pushing yourself up, you stopped abruptly, lowering yourself back down and wincing as a searing pain spread across your side. Your hand immediately went to the source, where your fingers ran across rough fabric. Looking down, you saw that your chest was still bare, although half of your torso was covered in white bandages. Looking around, you found your robes hanging up against a wardrobe across the room, clean and repaired. Your boots were at the foot of the bed. 

Trying again, you slowly sat up again, pulling the sheet off of your legs. You bent down agonisingly slowly, one arm against your side while the other grabbed your footwear. After you pulled them both on, you began lacing them up. It was at that point when the door opened. 

Looking up, you saw Ezio staring at you, surprised. “Y/N, what are you doing?” 

“I’m getting up.”

“You should be resting.”

“I’ve rested enough. How many days has it been?”

Ezio didn’t reply at first.

“Ezio; how many days?”

“Five.”

“That’s more than enough.” 

You pushed yourself up to your feet, only for your knees to buckle and send you back down to the floor, the impact of which reverberated up to your side. You grasped the bedpost for support as your breath hitched. Footsteps approached your kneeling form, but you held your hand up to stop them. “I’m fine,” you spoke through gritted teeth. Hauling yourself back up again, you leaned heavily against the wall, your legs not used to walking after five days of disuse. 

“You don’t have to pretend.” Ezio respected your need for space for a few moments, but soon moved to pull your arm over his shoulders when he saw you begin to struggle. 

“... Can you take me downstairs, at least?”

He sighed, thinking out the pros and cons. “Fine. Come.” 

Tentatively, you tiptoed down the stairs, careful not to make any jarring movements. Ezio held you securely to prevent you from falling, should you do so again. The sounds of people eating, drinking, and enjoying themselves filled your ears, and your eyes landed on a table with La Volpe -- standing up with one knee propped up against the bench -- Leonardo, and a few other thieves (all sitting properly). They seemed to be in deep conversation, but as La Volpe looked up and moved his attention to you, everyone else followed his gaze, smiles poking at their lips.

“Y/N! You’re awake, and… moving.” Leonardo shot Ezio a disapproving look. 

“I asked him to take me here.” You motioned to sit down at the table, and Ezio helped to lower you to the bench. Steadying yourself against the table, you brought a hand up to your side as your wound twinged. 

“You’re just in time for me to change your dressings.” Leonardo got up to fetch new bandages as Ezio took his place beside you. 

La Volpe sat down properly. “Y/N, what happened?”

You recounted the story in detail as Leonardo worked on your side, slightly embarrassed at your inability to stay alert that night. “It was my mistake,” you finished, wincing as the bandages were pulled tight. “I should have stayed out of sight.” 

“He shouldn’t have even been there,” Ezio quipped, closing one hand over a fist. “We almost lost one of our best students.”

You smirked. “I’m flattered.” 

Leonardo coughed to hide his chuckle, sitting on the other side of you. “Here.” He passed you a loose shirt and a drink; you thanked him and slowly dressed, being careful not to stretch your side. Taking a sip turned into gulping down mouthfuls of the liquid, parched from not drinking for days.

“If he was one of your best students, then why did we almost lose him?” La Volpe was blunt, but he wasn’t wrong.

“Because that mission was not supposed to be for him!” 

“Remember who assigned him that mission, Ezio. Your anger is misplaced.” Ezio looked between the faces at the table, huffed, and got up, heading for the backroom. 

The atmosphere grew tense, and you decided to break the uncomfortable silence. “I’ll, uh, go and talk to him.” You got up slowly, holding your side, and followed where Ezio disappeared to. 

You peered around the corner to see him leaning on the table, his knuckles pressing into the bloodstained wood. After a few moments of standing still, he cursed himself under his breath, punching the table beneath his hand. He walked to the other side of the table, folding his arms and leaning against it as he fell deep into thought. 

You decided to knock against the wall, then. Ezio turned his head to see who it was, before smiling softly and staring back at the wall. You went to lean on the table beside him, staring at the chalkboard propped up against the barrels. “You’re blaming yourself, Ezio.” You called him out on it before he could say anything, prompting an amused scoff on his part. 

“I should have pulled you out of the contract.”

You looked at him, but he still stared at the wall, seemingly too ashamed to look at you. “Why? You didn’t know what was going to happen.”

“I knew it would challenge you, but I underestimated just how dangerous it would be.”

“You know Mario wouldn’t have accepted that.”

He sighed through his nose, eyes flicking down to his boots. “I should have tried.” 

“Look at me, Ezio.” His eyes moved to yours, but his head barely shifted. “I’m alive; I’m alright.”

“We’ll see.”

You squinted. “What do you mean?”

“Leonardo told me you have a bad case of idiozia, and he is not sure if it can be cured.”

You laughed, looking away. “No, me either.”

“I know something which could help, though.”

You raised an eyebrow, waiting to see what he would say before a force came into contact with the back of your head. “Ow! Bastardo…” Ezio laughed. 

“Let’s rejoin the others.”

----------

Translations:

Mi amico = My friend

Personalmente = Personally

Ora, un altro? = Now, another?

Assassino! = Assassin!

La Volpe Addormentata = The Sleeping Fox

Sbrigatevi! = Hurry up!

Ora, aiutami con lui = Help me with him

Mio Dio = My God

Non posso = I can’t

Andiamo, ragazzo = Come, boy

Amico mio, mi dispiace tanto = My friend, I am so sorry

Con attenzione, ora = Carefully now!

Idiozia = Idiocy

Bastardo = Bastard

[dansedan]

HAPPY APRIL FOOLS DISCO ELYSIUM COMMUNITY HERE IS MY BOLERO/LATIN POP HARRY DU BOIS PLAYLIST FUCK YOU PAY ME 

(liner notes and English lyric translations under the cut, listen-along with the playlist!)

(warning, LONG LONG post)

BOLERO ELYSIUM:

1.       No Soy Nada- Harry mourning over Dora.

Translated lyrics:

[Verse 1]

My love, how I would like to have you with me

Turn back the clock and feel your heartbeat again

My love, how I wish not to be alive for today

And that you can be born again, walk your way

 [Chorus]

And sorry for crying at your feet, unable to see your face

For the sake of both of us I’ll leave, if it’ll make you smile tomorrow

And now I know that I do not do you as well as I imagined

It is not me that you should love because I am nothing

 [Verse 2]

My love, I never meant to be bad, I swear

And as much as I tried and improved, it is not enough for me

 [Chorus]

And sorry for crying at your feet, unable to see your face

For the sake of both of us I’ll leave, if it’ll make you smile tomorrow

And now I know that I do not do you as well as I imagined

It is not me that you should love because I am nothing

 It’s a good, simple angst chanson. Very accurate for a drunk idiot mourning over a relationship and self-flagellating.

 2. Te Fuiste a Tiempo- battle-tested relationshit/partner-divorce

Translated lyrics:

[INTRO]

You could’ve killed me like this,

So cruel and merciless

 [Verse 1]

You left on time

Because you were starting to be a necessity

How lucky was I

When fate gave me my freedom

 You left on time

Because I was beginning to understand that you were a disguise

And with the cynicism of a mirage

You asked for one more kiss

 [Chorus]

I hung a sigh from the spark of your hair

Like a comet that knew it was going to the ground

I gave you my wings when I was just taking off

I gave you everything and even neglected myself

 [Post-chorus]

You could kill me (Ah, ah, ah)

So cruel and slow (Ah, ah, ah)

But it was better ...

You left on time

 (The ra ra ra ra ...)

 [Chorus]

I hung a sigh from the spark of your hair

Like a comet that knew it was going to the ground

I gave you my wings when I was just taking off

I gave you everything and even neglected myself

 [Post-chorus]

You could kill me (Ah, ah, ah)

So cruelly and slowly (Ah, ah, ah)

But it was better ...

You left o-o-o-on time

 From the point of view of both of them!!! fucking insane dudes. It’s an April fools playlist of boleros so I am not going to pretend to have nuance here they are pining cheesily. Jean and “I gave you my wings when I was just taking off/I gave you everything and even neglected myself” makes me see red. Plus the idea of Very Soppily switching Jean’s attempts at having Harry… Not Do What He’s About To Do as “one last kiss” is. Soppy and amazing ok shut up.

 4.       El Último Trago- the bender of apocaliptic proportions

Translated lyrics:

Drink this bottle with me

And after the last drink we’ll leave

I want to see what forgetting you tastes like

Without putting your hands over my eyes

 Tonight I'm not going to beg you

Tonight you're really going to go;

How hard it is to have to leave you

Without feeling that you no longer love me

 The years have taught me nothing

I always make the same mistakes

Yet again toasting with strangers

And crying over the same pains

 Drink this bottle with me

And after the last drink, kiss me

Let’s hope there are no witnesses

Just in case you were embarrassed

 If one day we accidentally meet again

Do not bend down or speak to me directly;

Let us simply shake hands

And let the people murmur after

 The years have taught me nothing

I always make the same mistakes

Yet again toasting with strangers

And crying over the same pains

 Drink this bottle with me

And after the last drink we’ll leave...

 It’s the LAST DRINK hah see what I did there but also it’s a song about the foibles of drunkenness and drunken romantics so it’s very apt for harry trying to drown his Dora-related sorrows in alcohol. Poor mans. Also Dolores does just mean “pains” in here but. Dolores…

5.       No Soy de Aquí Ni Soy de Allá- Amnesia (hah, get it. Geddit. Yes this is mostly here because of the name but LOOK THERE’S MORE)

Translated lyrics:

[Verse 1]

I like the sun, Alice and the doves

good cigars and bad ladies

Jumping walls and opening windows

And when a woman cries

I like wine as much as flowers

And rabbits, but not tractors

And homemade bread and the voice of Dolores

And the sea wetting my feet.

 [Chorus]

I am not from here, neither from there

I have no age nor future

And being happy is the color of my identity

 [Verse 2]

I like to always be lying in the sand

To chase Manuela on my steed

For all the time, to see the stars

With Mary in the wheat field

 [Chorus]

I am not from here, neither from there

I have no age nor future

And being happy is the color of my identity

 [Verse 3]

I like the sun, Alice and the doves

good cigars and bad ladies

Jumping walls and opening windows

And when a woman cries

 Okay so hear me out: the stupid boiadero rugged macho man listing shit he likes to seem cool? So good for early amnesia Harry. This has Raphael Ambrosius Costeau written all over it. The mild mysoginy is only the cherry on top but all the random-ass nonsense lines that are just there to sound cool is perfect for Harry just. Saying shit and seeing if it sticks. Also the song bops so it’s here. Also like… “bad ladies” = klaasje thirst, “Jumping walls and opening windows” = the jamrock shuffle, “I like wine as much as flowers” = commodore red, forget-me-nots, “the sea wetting my feet”= Martinaise… ey? Ey? Ey?? Am I saying Jorge cafurne predicted disco Elysium? I don’t know but I’m sure saying SOMETHING. Also this would be a great ARB karaoke song.

 6.       Diez pasos hacia tí- getting to know Kim

Translated lyrics:

[Verse 1]

Life left us crossed

In a very casual way

You came like the sun

Stealing my shadow gradually

 Any leak of light

Everything was a sign

Ten steps towards you

A thousand doubts over me

And the fear, naturally.

 [Chorus]

You made me tremble like that (You made me tremble like that)

Like the moon over the water

And then I let go (And then I let go)

To embrace your gaze

And that's how I discovered you (And that's how I discovered you)

But it was in a kiss that I met you

 Uh, uh-uh-uh-uh, ten steps towards you

Uh, uh-uh-uh-uh

 Any leak of light

Served as a signal

Ten steps towards you

A thousand doubts about me

And the natural fear

 You made me tremble like that (You made me tremble like that)

Like the moon over the water

And then I let go (And then I let go)

To embrace your gaze

And that's how I discovered you (And that's how I discovered you)

But it was in a kiss that I met you

 You made me shake like that (You made me shake like that)

Like the moon over the water

And then I let go (And then I let go)

To swim in your gaze

And that's how I discovered you (And that's how I discovered you)

But it was in a kiss that I met you

 Uh, uh-uh-uh-uh, ten steps towards you

Uh, uh-uh-uh-uh

 Okay so clearly they don’t kiss YET but. We’re keeping on the theme of being very very cheesy and romantic because this is a shitpost playlist so here is a song with some vibes of slowly allowing yourself to trust someone who takes a bit of darkness from your life. “any leak of light”, “you arrived like the sun”, sunrise parabellum… also I love Harry being weak for Kim so “you made me tremble like that” is just. Yes thank you.

 7.       Soy un Corpóreo y Dentro de Mí Hay una Actriz Recién Titulada Llorando -superstar cop

Translated lyrics:

[Chorus]

I am a corporeal and within me

There's a newly graduated actress crying

I am a corporeal and within me

There's a newly graduated actress crying

 [Post-Chorus]

And in the official photos

I appear smiling with the children of the place

And in the promo clips

The sobs that inhabit me cannot be heard

 [Verse 1]

The show must go on

Experts indicate that it is the best

Two out of three recommend it

For your daily use

 [Chorus]

I am a corporeal and within me

There's a newly graduated actress crying

I am a corporeal and within me

There's a newly graduated actress crying

 [Post-Chorus]

And in the official photos

I appear smiling with the children of the place

And in the promo clips

The sobs that inhabit me cannot be heard

 [Verse 2]

I have no other life than the one that sweats inside of me

And I don't want it to go, and I don't want it to go

It is that I have no other life than the one that cries inside me

And without her I am nothing, and without her I am nothing

 [Outro]

And without her I am nothing, and without her I am nothing

And without her I am nothing, and without her I am nothing

 OK SO THIS ONE IS HEAVY but for both the tentatively-affectionately-titled “terminal cop brain” that Harry (and Kim and Jean) suffer as well as a touch of his internal struggle with his own self-hate and depression AND Dora shit it is here. Superstar cop just needs to buckle up his disco belt and bring down the law (no he doesn’t he needs a lot of real actual help but uh. Okay harrier.)

 8.       Lo Mal que Estoy y Lo Poco que me Quejo- the jamrock shuffle around Martinaise

Translated lyrics:

[Chorus]

How bad I am and how little I complain

How bad I am and how little I complain

 [Verse 1]

I always get up with my foot looking at the ground

The mute voice greets me from afar

He gives me his silence but I play the idiot

Looking in the mirror

 [Verse 2]

And the mirror gives me its reflection without mine

I assume it and I continue but I do not trust myself

I self-diagnose without even minimal success

And so I get depressed

 [Chorus]

How bad I am and how little I complain

How bad I am and how little I complain

I have my soul in quarantine and my body is broken

What pain, what pity and what torment

 [Verse 3]

I go out to the sidewalks, my walking out of tune

My suitcase full of boulders

My smile upside-down from climbing so many stairs

Without getting anywhere

 [Verse 4]

And history criticizes me because I'm always grieving

And I tell them ‘poor is he who hides his crying’

A brick doesn’t know how to cry

But it doesn’t follow a beat well either

 [Chorus]

How bad I am and how little I complain

How bad I am and how little I complain

I have my soul in quarantine and my body is broken

What pain, what pity and what torment

 [Bridge]

And how my whole life hurts

And the doctor has told me

That calls into question the truest truth

That I'm late to the niche

And that to each new pain I look for a placebo

 [Outro]

My donkey, my donkey's love hurts

Because nobody loves him, only me

And grief greets me when I'm laughing the most

My heart is full of patches

My donkey, my donkey's love hurts

Because nobody loves him, only me

And grief greets me when I'm laughing the most

My heart is full of patches

Chin pon!

 Is this not the most perfect song for the absolute insanity of mr. Du Bois? First, the catchy fucking tempo, let us enjoy how splendidly jaunty it is. Amazing. Then, all the stuff about the mirror, ESPECIALLY “And the mirror gives me its reflection without mine/ I assume it and I continue but I do not trust myself”. Also the line “And history criticizes me because I'm always grieving/And I tell them ‘poor is he who hides his crying’” feels so much like an argument between Harry and skills over Dora shit… this song is also just a bop.

 9.       Algo Contigo- falling in love with Kim (which is a canonical event fuck you)

Translated lyrics:

[Verse 1]

Do I need to tell you

That I am dying to have something with you?

Have you not noticed

How much it costs me to be your friend?

I can no longer get close to your mouth

Without desiring you in a crazy way

I need to control your life

To know who kisses you and who shelters you

 [Verse 2]

Do I need to tell you

That I am dying to have something with you?

Have you not noticed

How much it costs me to be your friend?

I can no longer continue spying

Day and night, guessing when you’ll arrive

I don't even know with what innocent excuse to pass by your house, oh-oh

I have so few roads left

And although it may seem like a folly to you

I would not want to die without having something with you

 [Verse 3]

Do I need to tell you

That I'm dying to have something with you, oh

Have you not noticed

How much it costs me to be your friend?

I can no longer get close to your mouth

Without desiring you in a crazy way

I need, baby, to control your life

Know who kisses you and who shelters you

I have very few roads left

And although it may seem like a folly to you

I would not want die without having something with you

 [Outro]

(Something with you, something with you)

baby, I wouldn't want to die without having (Something with you)

Something with you (Something with you)

Sad the fate that awaits me without being able to get to know you (Something with you)

Something with you (Something with you)

There is no excuse, there is nothing I have to lose

(Something with you)

Like a slave (Something with you)

A slave forever, I wouldn't mind being

(Something with you)

Eternally slave (Something with you)

Girl, I wouldn't want to die without having (Something with you)

Something with you (Something with you)

Sad is the fate that awaits me without being able to get to know you (Something with you)

 Okay so for one it’s pretty clingy as a romance song so it’s already perfect. We’re choosing to ignore it’s sung to a woman shhhh but look, okay. “I can no longer get close to your mouth/Without desiring you in a crazy way” is one of my favorite love song lines ever because I’m that brand of idiot but LUCKILY SO IS HARRY DU FUCKING BOIS OKAY so it makes me think of… devastatingly cool smoking Kim. I laughed a lot at the way “Day and night, guessing when you’ll arrive” paralleled a lot of my friends’ testimonies of getting really bummed out that Kim left with the body and they couldn’t hang out with him anymore. Also the sort of desperate air of “I have so few roads left/And although it may seem like a folly to you/I would not want to die without having something with you” also pings really nicely with Harry’s state of mind and inexperience and the assumed (reasonable lol) reaction that Kim might have at figuring out about this very unstable man’s pining after him. I almost had a different version of this song but despite the cheesiness of this rendition I like the way the ending lines devolve into… even more desperation. You go to therapy Harry, maybe you’ll get to smooch Kim if that works out…

4.       Ya Sé- the final dream with Dora.

Translated lyrics:

[Verse 1]

I know ... that you don't want to see me, I already know

That you are tired of my way of loving

That you don’t understand me and my jealousy does you wrong

That my caresses no longer shine on your skin

And that my nights are full of anxiety

 [Verse 2]

I know ... that you're with someone else, I already know

That you are calm and that you do not plan to return

That he has everything that he could never be

What are you saying that I have no dignity

That you don't care if I'm well or if I'm bad

 [Chorus]

Oh Love! Sorry if I call you to hear your voice

Sorry

I know you’re hating me

I'm leaving now! I want you to know something:

My heart fled, it left, I lost it on your lips

 [Verse 2]

I know ... that you're with someone else, I already know

That you are calm and that you do not plan to return

That he has everything that he could never be

What are you saying that I have no dignity

That you don't care if I'm well or if I'm bad

 [Chorus]

Oh Love! Sorry if I call you to hear your voice

Sorry

I know you’re hating me

I'm going now! I want you to know something:

My heart fled, it left, I lost it on your lips

 [Outro]

My heart fled, it left, I lost it on your lips

My heart fled, it left, I lost it on your lips

 Okay so the final dream kicked me in the emotional nuts and this is such a fucking fitting song. I mean, the phonecall had already killed me pretty hard, and the idea of Dora’s voice being so stuck in Harry’s mind that he can immediately react is… it’s a lot. I like the lip imagery here too bc I’m a slut for parallels between Kim and Dora, sue me. The self-flagellation and repetition and just… “ I know what you’re feeling but I don’t care I’m feeling this about it”  is so very fitting for the two of them… I just think about it a lot…

5.       Ódiame- Jean again… Jean in Martinaise…

Translated lyrics:

Love, don't forget me

Please,

Hate me

 Hate me as a mercy, I beg you

Hate me without measure or clemency

Hate, I want, more than indifference

Because  resentment wants less than oblivion

 Hate me for mercy I ask you

Hate me without measure or mercy

Hate, I want, more than indifference

Because  resentment wants less than oblivion

 If you hate me, I’ll be convinced

That you loved me well, with insistence

But keep in mind, according to experience,

That you can only hate that which you love

 What is worth more, me, humble, you, proud

Or is it worth more, your weak beauty

Think that at the bottom of the burial pit

We’ll be wearing the same clothing

 What is worth more, me, humble, you, proud

Or is it worth more, your weak beauty

Think that at the bottom of the burial pit

We’ll be wearing the same clothing

 If you hate me, I’ll be convinced

That you loved me well, with insistence

But keep in mind, according to experience,

That you can only hate that which you love

 But keep in mind, according to experience,

That you can only hate that which you love

 OKAY SO THIS ONE IS JUICY AS WELL… the whole theme of hate vs forgetting is very directly a Harryjean dynamic but. Please consider the way that this song is very directly interpretable as Jean just. Straight up going into bargaining over the harry amnesia thing. Like, fuck, even if you’re gonna keep being a horrible abusive asshole and pushing me away, at least don’t go an forget me. WHAT A KICK IN THE FUCKING NUTS. Also love the Broderbund bullshit with “Think that at the bottom of the burial pit/We’ll be wearing the same clothing” because. Cop Angst and their equality as partners is Important To Me. Also definitely calling out Jean’s entire being with “ you can only hate that which you love”

6.       Sí Po’- Inviting Kim to the 41st (gay)/post-mart domestica

Translated lyrics:

[Verse 1]

The stars aligned

You can't guess what happened

Do you remember that chore

That they had set me for today

 [Verse 2]

Yea, see, I managed to run it for tomorrow

I have all the time in the world for you

Mmm mmm mmm

Yea, see, just today that you are also free

We will have all the time in the world to do

Mmm mmm mmm

 [Pre-chorus 1]

It’s not like it was planned

Once it touches us

All the time giving up

Always going towards the crash

 Meeting deadlines that do not exist in practice

Fulfilling goals that you never set for yourself

 [Chorus]

"Let’s not go shopping, not today"

" Let’s not go shopping, not today "

You tell me and I’ll shop for you

" Let’s not go shopping, not today "

" Let’s not go shopping, not today "

You tell me and I’ll shop for you

 [Verse 3]

The weight of the glue

It doesn't make sense if it's like this

Dying with the excuse (From!)

That there is no other way to live

 [Verse 4]

No, see, I want to spend more time with you

If a window opens I will take advantage of it

Mmm mmm mmm

Yeah, see, and now that you’re also free

We will have all the time in the world to do

Mmm mmm mmm

 [Pre-chorus 2]

More than enough

And I fully complain

But the time of the world

It's not that long either

 Meeting deadlines that do not exist in practice

Fulfilling goals that you never set for yourself

 [Chorus]

" Let’s not go shopping, not today "

" Let’s not go shopping, not today "

You tell me and I’ll shop for you

" Let’s not go shopping, not today " ("please!")

" Let’s not go shopping, not today "

You tell me and I’ll shop for you

 [Outro]

With you I have the impression of being safe

That you don't always have to be doing something

 LOOK. LOOK. I LOVE LOVE LOVE LOVE THE TROPE OF THESE TWO ACTING LIKE EMBARASSED TEENAGERS AND THIS IS MY SHITPOST APRIL FOOLS PLAYLIST SO I AM GOING TO THROW IN A COOL TEEN CRUSH SONG SHUT UP. I love the intimacy of just. Groceries for each other, “casually” making time for each other, it’s just the best. Also “But the time of the world/It's not that long either” is HNNG with full game spoilers but you know what. It is also sweet. Fuck you, they want to spend quality time…

7.       Tartar de estár major- literally just a terrible cheesy “things will be better OR ELSE” credits scene type song

Translated lyrics:

Tell that old story

That despite everything some things remain

The moments lived

Memories that will remain

Deep in the soul

Nothing can make you forget

That we walked the same path

And the things that we did

 It was because we wanted to be

Again in this place

Despite the mistakes

Despite the flaws and virtues

I keep in me the best

Moments that will remain

Deep in the soul

 abandon everything and think no more

You can not forget what you lived

And your loved ones

They miss you when you are gone

They don't want to cry for you

 Many times

we had to be apart

And feel that despite the distance

We feel the same as each other always

 Nothing can make you forget

That we walked the same path

And the things we did was because we wanted to be

Again in this place

 Do not overthink it more

There is always a reason

Trying to revive

Trying to be better

 Trying to be better

 A song about memories… and being loved and values… and surviving through those memories and that love in order to try to become a better person……. That’s all I’m gonna say….

[puddeneen]

"who fucked sesshomaru" this "what happened to their parents" that everyone sHUT UP all that matters is "will setsuna's Demon-Slaying Steed/Mascot™ be ah-un or kirara" and WILL i cry over either option???? PROBABLY definitely

[the--sad--hatter]

Name Calling (27)

FANDOM - MARVEL MCU

PAIRING - BUCKY X READER (female reader, no physical descriptions)

WARNINGS - ALL OF THEM, SMUT, VIOLENCE ANGST

DESCRIPTION -  In which the ongoing and bloody war of words between you and Bucky turns in your favor when a disgruntled one night stand of his lets slip a secret when you run into her in the elevator… Now you have all the ammunition you need to destroy your enemy but you don’t plan on killing him quickly. Oh no, Bucky Barnes was going to suffer and you were going to enjoy every second. You just didn’t count on how much you would enjoy it.

Current Word Count -  77,208

Chapter TwentySeven - Daddypool and Princess Peach 

Once upon a time in the land of Marvel there lived a dashingly handsome, witty beyond compare, braver than a pride of lions hero, who was hung like a horse on steroids and his name was fvrggvf3bn3gfvrfve2gr nfr2vgfr 3gfr2 hgt et1gt565g6 ve42f2te gfrbgr gr g gw

Sorry, the author tried to fight me for control of the keyboard. As I was saying, there was a hero with a cock like a python that had swallowed a slightly larger python and he knew how to use it. His name was Deadpool. One day Deadpool decided out of the kindness of his heroic heart to rescue a fair maiden who was being held captive by an evil secretary called Ross. He called forth his noble steed, Dopinder…. Hey, I wonder what the author is going to do with that chainsaw? Fvecfv2FEERr 5,f432 AE\

**We apologize for the interruption, now back to our regularly scheduled programming**

It took you all of ten seconds to realize that Deadpool was insane and a further ten seconds to realize that you liked that. He wasn’t trying to stop you leaving and he didn’t seem to want to hurt you or change your memories so you decided to stick around.

You finished eating your third Chimichanga when you noticed Deadpool had snuck behind you.

“Can I have your autograph?” He asked, leaning over the back of the couch to peer at you.

“Can I have another Chimichanga?” You bartered.

He threw one at you and pushed a pen and a wrinkled playboy towards you with a hopeful expression on his mask. You grimaced but signed your name on the cover of it with one hand while you tore the foil of your food with your teeth.

“So, why exactly did you rescue me?” You asked.

“Well I was flipping through the channels, looking for a Golden Girls rerun to get me in happy time mood, had my lube and my unicorn ready to go when I saw you on the news. Loved your work with the cliff and the nazis and all the killing. I thought to myself, Deadpool why can’t you find a nice girl like that? So I came and got you.”

“So you use the News channels as your own personal Tindr?” You asked.

“Well what else is a… what are you doing?”

You had put your hand in the air and were making a sweeping motion.

“Swiping left.” You said.

He gasped and put his hands on his chest, falling to the ground with a dramatic thumb and lying there, completely still. You ignored him and happily munched away on your pilfered food.

“Though at least you’ve never lied to my face about my own actions and messed with my memories. You know, you’d think he of all people would have told me the truth.” You ranted.

“Wait, I have the perfect outfit for this situation!” Deadpool yelled.

He ran into the other room and came back with a pair of glasses perched on his face and a box of kleenex. He forcibly shoved you down on the couch so you were lying down and pulled up a chair to sit next to you.

“Now, tell Dr. Daddypool your problems.”

You shrugged and gave him the rundown. Why the hell not, it wasn’t like you had anywhere else to be.

He oohed and ahhed in all the right places and turned out to be a surprisingly good listener.

“I KNOW A GUY WHO CAN PLAY WITH YOUR BRAIN!” He squealed excitedly.

“Well actually I know several but I only know one who can do it without physically pulling your brain from your skull.” He amended.

“I’m not following.” You admitted.

“Memories, yours. Let’s go get em.” He summed up succinctly.

“Oh, ohhhhh.” You said eloquently, catching on and jumping up to follow him out of the door.

“Wait, I’m forgetting something.” He said, stopping in the doorway.

“That everyone on the planet probably knows what I look like and I’m wanted by the UN?” You suggested.

“Bingo” He snapped his fingers.

“Have you got like a baseball cap and some sunglasses?” You asked.

“Seriously? Because nobody’s going to see straight through that disguise.”

“Steve said it always works.” You grumbled.

“Wanna wear one of my masks?” He asked you.

“No, no I do not.”

“Fine, I guess that leaves me with no choice then. Time for…. A makeover montage!”

He excitedly bounced over and hit play on a boom box in the corner of the room and Pretty Woman by Roy Orbison started blaring.

“I could just wear a hoodie and keep the hood up.” You pointed out.

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

One very weird (why did he have so many latex costumes?) and pointless makeover later Deadpool threw a hoodie at you with a tormented sigh. You flipped the hood up and followed him downstairs to the waiting yellow cab.

“Wait, we’re still in New York?” You asked, only now realizing.

“Yes maam.” The driver told you as Deadpool climbed in the passenger window and settled down in the seat.

You climbed into the back seat with a glance around to make sure you hadn’t been spotted.

“Peaches, this is Dopinder. Dopinder, this is Princess Peach. She’s a violent, bloodthirsty killer.” Deadpool said gleefully.

“I saw you on the news Miss Deathwave.” Dopinder said.

“You and everybody else buddy. Where are we going?”

“X-Mansion.” Dopinder explained.

“Great, because nobody there will tell my dad where I am.” You grumbled, staring forlornly out of the window as the city streets whizzed by.

You tuned out Deadpool’s chatter with Dopinder about dating and OTP’s until Deadpool made a pained noise.

“Pull over!!” Deadpool shrieked.

“What’s going on?” You asked as Dopinder pulled into a nearby gas station.

“It’s the revenge of the Chimichanga’s!” Deadpool grunted, squirming.

As soon as the car rolled to a stop, Deadpool fell out of the car and ran for the bathrooms. You shook your head in wry amusement at him and got out of the car with a stretch.

“I’m going to go grab a drink, you want anything?” You asked Dopinder, leaning down to look at him through the drives side window.

“Oh, a Coca Cola please Miss Deathwave.” He said politely.

“No problem.” You said, hitting the top of the car as you pushed off of it and sauntered into the gas station.`

You almost turned and walked straight back out. There was something most definitely wrong, the attendant was sweating profusely as they gave you a tight-lipped smile. You nodded back and perused the aisles, grabbing the drinks. There were three distinct heartbeats coming from behind the counter.

Two people hiding, one attendant in sight. Now you very much doubted anybody who was after you would be stupid enough to send only two people to do the job so it was most likely you had just walked into a robbery. You were an escaped convict, you couldn’t afford to draw attention to yourself but there was no way you could just walk away.

You plunked the bottles down on the counter and grinned.

“Got a bag?” You asked.

The attendant nodded and put the bottles in the plastic carrier bag for you.

“Oh, can I also get one of these?” You asked, grabbing him by the shirt and yanking him over the counter and throwing him behind you. out of the way.

The two robbers swore and stood up. They were balaclava-clad and armed, and totally unprepared to see you stood smiling casually at them.

You grabbed the closest one by the gun arm, bending his arm so it was pointing at the ceiling. He pulled the trigger and a small dusting of ceiling plaster sprinkled down over you. You slammed his head into the counter and leaped over his prone form, using the counter to maneuver your body and kick his accomplice in the chest. A super soldier to the ribs was enough to send him reeling back, wheezing, dropping his gun in the process. He tripped over the black duffel bag at his feet and went sprawling onto the ground. You kicked both guns out of reach and kicked open the duffel bag the would-be robbers had with them.

“Looks like this wasn’t the first place these guys hit today. Here, don’t call the cops.” You said, throwing the bag of cash at the gas attendant.

You picked up the groaning robber by the neck and raised him off the ground, pulling his mask off.

“Do you know who I am?” You asked him.

He looked petrified as he nodded quickly.

“Good, so I don’t have to warn you to never try anything like this again. Because you know what will happen if you do, don’t you?”

“You’ll hunt me down and make me wish I was never born?” He guessed.

“And they say criminals are getting dumber.” You said, dropping him.

He and his partner got up and scrambled away as fast as they could, running into Deadpool at the door. The robbers and the merc all paused in a weird standoff and you coughed lightly behind them, sending the robbers fleeing.

“What did I miss?” Deadpool asked.

You looked at the gas station attendant who was looking into the bag of cash with wide eyes.

“Nothing.” You said innocently.

You grabbed your purchases and pulled Deadpool back to the taxi. You climbed in and tossed Dopinder his coke. You waited until you were at least a mile away before you breathed a sigh of relief.

“What are the fucking chances that the gas station I was in was being robbed?” You ranted.

“That was no coincidence, it’s the author’s divine intervention.” Dopinder tried to explain.

“Since when can you break the fourth wall?!” Deadpool demanded with a dramatic gasp.

“The author likes me Mr Pool, she has taken artistic liberties.”

“Oh hell no, breaking the fourth wall is MY thing!”

“She wants you to know you can go suck a dick Mr Pool, those were her words, not mine.”

“YO KARA, THAT’S RIGHT I’M NAMING AND SHAMING YOU, GET YOUR ASS DOWN HERE AND SAY THAT TO MY FACE!”

Out of nowhere, Dopinder slammed on the brakes, sending Deadpool careening headfirst into the wind-shield.

You leaned your head through the plastic divider to peer at them.

“What in the actual fuck is going on?” You asked bewilderedly as Deadpool let out a string of impressive and inventive curses.

“IS THAT ALL YOU’VE GOT YOU PSYCHOTIC...”

“Mr Pool no, do not provoke the author!! Dopinder begged.

An ominous chill wind began blowing and the three of you paused nervously as it picked up. A Newspaper landed on the Windshield, it’s terrifying headline splattered on the glass for you to read.

WORLD RUNS OUT OF MEXICAN FOOD

Deadpool screamed in horror and you began laughing uncontrollably at the strange turn of events.

“Alright you evil mastermind, you win this round.” Deadpool grumbled.

“Can we go now?” You asked them, long past trying to understand what was happening and just rolling with it.

“Yes Miss Deathwave.” Dopinder agreed, putting the car in gear as the wind died down and the sun started shining again.

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

“HI WADE” A colourful bubbly girl shouted out of the window as soon as you pulled up.

“Hi Yukio!” He called back enthusiastically.

He turned to say something to you but you were leaning against the taxi with an amused grin on your face.

“Wade? You name is Wade?”

“Wade Wilson, Merc with a mouth.” He elaborated.

“Well, now that your oh so secret identity had been blown you can lose the big red body condom.” You offered.

If you didn’t know better you’d say he was suddenly uncomfortable.

“No can do peaches, you’ve already had an emotionally trying… life. Wouldn’t want to make it worse.” He said.

“It can’t be any worse than anything I’ve already seen.” You laughed, thinking he was joking.

“Oh no, he is truly hideous.” Dopinder called from inside the car.

“Yes, thank you Dopinder. You can leave now.” Wade said.

Dopinder waved cheerily at you and drove away. Wade turned to walk to the door but you grabbed his arm and stopped him.

“Are you not taking it off because you don’t want to or because you think I’m going to be an asshole about what's under the mask?” You asked him.

“Survey says both!”

“Fine, keep it on. If you change your mind though… I am in fact not a complete douche so I probably won’t point out how ugly you are.”

“Fine. Fine. But don’t say I didn’t warn you!” He snapped, undoing the mask.

He paused when it was undone before ripping it off. You tilted your head to the side as you studied him.

“You look like a slighter better looking version of that guy who was in The Proposal with Sandra Bullock.” You informed him.

He blinked in shock at you, mouth gaping.

“Marry me?” He whispered reverently.

“Never gonna happen Daddypool.” You said with a wink and turned to go meet the bubbly ‘Yukio’ and her friend at the door.

“Hey, Deathwave right?” The short haired teen said.

“Yeah, that’s me.” You sighed and pushed your hood down.

“I’m Yukio” The bright one said.

“I’m Negasonic Teenage Warhead.” The other one introduced herself.

“And I thought I had a rough childhood, yours must have been a bitch with a name like that.” You remarked.

“I like her.” Negasonic told Wade before promptly walking away.

“Hey, we’re here to see the Professor. McAvoy or Stewart, either’s fine!” Wade called after her.

“He’s not here!” She yelled back.

“God fucking damn it! It’s a fanfiction, there’s no reason I can’t be around the X-Men!” Wade exclaimed, throwing his hands up in frustration and following the two girls inside.

“Hey, congrats on joining The Avengers! That is super cool!” Yukio said to you.

“Uh, yeah I’m not an Avenger. I was like a backup Avenger at best, now I’m just a criminal.” You told her.

Yukio and Negasonic exchanged a look.

“You haven’t watched the new have you?” Nega asked you.

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

Your favorite part was where Secretary Ross addressed the press and told them you were a “Heroic young woman who put her own safety on the line to help take down a criminal who threatened the integrity of The Accords.” Before it cut to Benjamin Newlands being arrested.

Your least favorite part was the rest of it. Your entire history had been handed over to the world, there wasn’t a person who didn’t know where you had come from. It was the price you’d had to pay to be pardoned. It was terrifying, being so exposed. But it was also kind of liberating.

The press were really sticking with the whole “Deathwave” moniker and you were being hailed as The Newest Avenger.

“So how afraid of me are people now?” You asked the room.

“Honestly? People are kind of numb to super-powered people. So you have apocalyptic powers, so what? I think they feel sorrier for you than anything.” Nega said with a shrug.

“Wonderful.” You sighed.

You knew your friends probably had good intentions when they outed you but the fact remained that they had been lying to you for weeks. They had somehow covered up a severe bullet wound to your chest and messed with your memories. Their list of sins was piling up and you were finding it harder and harder to remain in a forgiving mood.

“Have you got a phone I could borrow?” You asked Nega and Yukio.

Nega gestured to the hallway and you followed a bouncing Yukio to a landline, Wade hot on your heels.

“Who are we calling?” He stage whispered at you.

“My dad.”

“Oooooooooohhhhhhhhh”

You dialed Tony’s number from memory and it rang once before Friday picked up.

“You have reached the voicemail for...”

“It’s me Friday,” You interrupted.

There was silence and then a click before Tony’s voice came through the line.

“Kit Kat?? Where the hell are you, are you ok?” He demanded.

“I’m fine. No bullet wounds I need you to hide from me if that’s what you mean.” You snapped.

He sighed.

“Yeah, it’s her. She’s ok.” He said to someone on the other side of the phone.

“Listen kid, it’s a long story. I can explain everything though, I swear. Just tell me where you are.”

“I’m not sure I want you anywhere near me right now Tony. Any of you.” You admitted.

“Sweetheart we had to do it, there’s a lot you don’t understand. We were ordered not to tell you anything.”

“Ordered? I massacred people Tony, I was shot!! Who the hell gave you the right to keep that from me?” You screamed.

“YOU DID!” He yelled back.

You rocked back on your heels and furrowed your brow.

“We were acting on your orders.” Tony sighed.

Deadpool gasped loudly.

“And the plot thickens!”

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

So after this chapter, I think it's clear the reader has too much chemistry with Deadpool to be ignored! This is now a Deadpool/Reader pairing. Or a Deadpool/Reader/Bucky pairing r urj 4 32rj1wo e3 3e JKBN;PN

NO! This is still a Bucky/Reader story. Now if you'll excuse me, I have to go clean blood out of my laptop.

@nerdandproud-86 @harrison-shot-first@chook007@thejourneyneverendsx@thelostallycat@inquisitor-selvala@the-corruptor @iovher@kendrawr-kitkat@phoenix-whiskey-tears @the–real-wombat@buckitybarnes@fairislesheets@angieptt@meganjonezzzz

@dugan365 @fluffeh-kitty@memanda17@krystallynx@theonelittleone

@piscesbarnes @free-as-fishes@tarastudiesalot@captainamericasbeard

[have-some-gotdamn-faith]

To See a Man about a Horse

Part 1/? Micah & fem!Reader (3rd person pov)

Welcome to my first, real drabble/fic/whatever this is! Got the idea from a recent dream and it was too good to pass up; Micah’s horse is better company than him, to no one’s surprise.

Cut for length, so it’s not eating y’all’s feeds.

Tags: none, as yet

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

She had been greeted this way before, but never quite with such gusto.

In passing the hitching posts on the way to her horse, a nose had jutted out---suddenly, and with intent---that nearly knocked the woman sideways. She sputtered indignantly, only to find the offending thing nickering at her gently.

It was Baylock, absolutely demanding attention. It drew a chuckle, and she cupped his chin to draw him in for a peck on the nose.

“Good morning~” She was answered with another nicker. “Ah, yes, how could I have forgotten---?”

The woman fished out a few cubes of sugar from her messenger bag, which inspired an excited flapping of ears. Baylock extended his neck, eager to close the distance between himself and those delightful treats---

She drew back, tutting. He snorted, lips puttering as he tried again.

“Careful,” Kieran warned, watching bemusedly. “Don’t tease him too much, you know how he gets.”

“You talkin’ ‘bout Baylock, or his rider?” she threw back, grinning.

“Ho~h, I don’t want nothin’ to do with his rider.”

The woman laughed, full-bellied and genuine, as she relented the sugary snacks. Baylock nosed her palm, lips smooshing and retracting once he secured the treats. Again he reached out, but his nose pushed on her cheek.

“Aw, you’re welcome, boy.”

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

A few more times, on her way to and from camp, she was accosted by demands of any food she might have on her: carrots, oats, sugar---anything Baylock could persuade her to part with.

By now, Micah---ever watchful---had caught on to the woman’s spoiling of his horse. Any time either of them were fixing to leave camp, and she looked to be the last in procession, Baylock would wait dutifully in spite of the blond man’s prompting.

Being disobeyed? Because of a woman?

Infuriating. Unacceptable.

He kept his chin high and frown low; she never looked at him directly, but the woman knew those icy blues stared down and watched every move she made. Micah was never addressed, though, until after she was finished cooing over Baylock. He’d leave soon after, throwing some indignant, empty insult before spurring his steed quickly away from camp.

She’d returned before Micah did, dismounting and legs jiggling under her dress as she shuffled happily into camp. Rejoining the women---they all sat under one of the cart tents, reading and socializing---she shared her most recent spoils from a number of unlucky, unattended households. Many ‘Ooo’s and giggles were shared as celebratory drinks were passed around. During the show-and-tell, a few extra apples rolled from the woman’s bag---it earned her a scoff from Karen.

“Those for your new pet, y/n?”

Another round of giggles.

“You got a problem with me treating the horses now and then?” she shot back. The tone was playful, but a dangerous undercurrent ran in hopes of dissuading any further scrutiny. Alas, no such luck.

“Oho, so defensive,” the blonde continued. “I wonder what a rat---” the word was spat derisively. “---needs a horse for, anyway, when he can just scurry off whenever he likes.”

The woman found herself inexplicably prickled at the ribbing, feeling her ears going hot upon a fresh round of hoots and jeers. She only rolled her eyes, however, unwilling to fall any further into this trap. In the haze of booze and liquor, the harassment was redirected easily enough, but it was inevitably revived again when the man in question returned.

“Go on, go see your beau!” Mary was the offending party this time, laughing wildly when the woman yanked her bag by the strap and stood. “There she goes!”

Indeed, she stormed off to the entrance of camp, the whistle and song of birds in the trees drowned by the blood pumping in her ears. Micah had only one foot down when the woman took Baylock’s reins, making him hop and fluster angrily before falling hard on his back. There was an eruption of laughter, now, and not just from the women, as he collected his hat and flung a curse. Unable to recover from such a wildly embarrassing scene, he stormed around the perimeter of the camp instead of cutting straight through; any who were feeling inclined to tease him for it were met with a fiercely snapping comeback.

Angrily, wordlessly, she fed the white-faced horse the apples she’d picked on her venture that day. Baylock ate them slowly, carefully, as Kieran approached.

“Hey, you okay?”

“‘m fine.”

“....you sure?”

“Yeah, I just---” There was a large nose in her face again, and she couldn’t help the smile that tugged at the corners of her lips. “---I just need to cool off, I guess.”

“No better place to do that than here, I suppose.”

With that the O’Driscoll defector went back to his duties, leaving the pair to be in silence. The sun was halfway through its descent behind the horizon, washing everything in pinks and oranges. As soon as Baylock was finished with his treats, she returned wordlessly to her tent and threw the flaps down. From across the camp, Micah watched her from beneath the wide brim of his hat.

Damnable woman.

[mountweazelorwellandgoode-blog]

Unicorn Goes into a Pub

UNICORN:                Evening squire. Pint of Heineken.

LANDLORD:            What the..? You can’t come in here!

UNICORN:                 C’mon squire, no grief, eh? Just a pint please.

LANDLORD:             But - but you’re a horse!

UNICORN:                 Ah, just a minute mate, have a squizz again. 

F/X:                                         A UNICORN HORN  BANGING ON THE BARTOP

LANDLORD:             A horse with a cornetto on it’s heed!

UNICORN:                 Well, that, and I’m talkin’ n’all. Now, a pint of Heiney and a bag of prawn cocktail.

LANDLORD:             A h-- I don’t know if i can serve  a horse -

UNICORN:                 Oi, pal, not an ‘orse, big horn, two words,    Un-----i---corn

LANDLORD:            Unicorn is one word.

UNICORN:                Who the feck are you to tell me, an actual unicorn, how many words is in my bloomin’ monicker you lard bellied lout! I’m from the realm of Faerie, servant of the Queen Mabe, Goddess of summer and the steed of the Knight of Gamalion, bearer of the Sword Sinister. Now get me a pint sharpish or I’ll shove this where the sun don’t shine if you get my point.  Many do!

LANDLORD:                 Sorry  ah...sir?

UNICORN:                     Well, unicorns are hermaphrodites, but lets go with that.

F/X:                PINT GLASS PLACED ON BARTOP. ELECTRONIC TILL BEEPS

LANDLORD:                 That’ll be ...2.20?

UNICORN:                     Hmm, right. Ah, listen, I seem to have, erm, left my wallet in the Nevernever… 

LANDLORD:                 Oh, no money, eh?

UNICORN:                     No pockets.  S’aright, I’m good for it. Unicorns never lie. I just need to pop home for a tic. Have you got a wardrobe?

LANDLORD:                 In the back, aye.

UNICORN:                     Right could you just get the wardrobe…

LANDLORD:                 What, and you’ll disappear into the back of it?

UNICORN:                     Yup. Just a soon as you stand it up against the wall at platform 3 and 3 quarters at King’s Cross station.

LANDLORD:                You what?

UNICORN                           And chant me name three times backwards.

LANDLORD    :                 Nrocinu nrocin nrocinu? 

UNICORN:                    ‘Ats the one. Right, get that wardrobe and lets be off - I’ll just have that quick swig first -

LANDLORD                    Oi!  That’s not paid for!

UNICORN:                     Mate, I’m a talking mythological creature divulging secret entrances and codes that open portals to  magical realms beyond time and space! An’ you’re worried about 2 quid? (crescendo) 

L: Ok Well...is there no other way? The wardrobe’s a bit heavy.

U: (calming down) Well...we fairie kind can travel through mirrors  between worlds. You got a mirror?

L: (threatened) Behind the bar, here!

U: (panting) Right, here we go

F/X:     GALLOPING, A UNICORN YELL, HUGE SMASH, CRIES OF PAIN

UNICORN:         Ah. No. seems I - seems I can’t do that. Right, I’ll just finish that pint and  be off -

L: 2 pound 20 ya bas!

U: Right tell you what - how about - (conspiratorially) do you want to know where talking unicorns come from?

L: Aye?

U: Narnia business! Ha ha! Get it? Want to know where my  missus is tonight? Oh, I centaur to the shops to get me tea!! Oh, stop it!  Another pint? Would I mind? No, I wouldn’t min-a-taur!Ha ha!  C’mon that’s gotta be worth a half!

L: 2 pound 20 or you’re goin in the lasange, pal.

U: Want a shag a mermaid?

L: How does that even work?

U: Gis a pint  and I’ll show ya. ​