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libidomechanica · 2 years

Text

Untitled (“Strangled by thy by-lane ring wretched silver”)

A curtal sonnet sequence

Which one threadily impotention time. At last to me. Hail, slow them. Strangled by thy by-lane ring wretched silver belly shall send his of a million. In campes of faire Venus on spared forth hist! From it rage: with such a generatives, with care of work, was for war had she who never done, you weakness which seen can be remote recent. It’s top, when the who never a sharply: Strikes above her, it probes With you?

Warriors the possibly forests, have no guilt! By. Thy lutes, whose to take a high Jove hid then the falsehood teeth, what too much than next with thing wind, whose even men of London why is inexpect on they crop—was wedded to taken did not had dropt hawks may of blue sky should put him to go among the banks of the was though in her wrist; it was dusk, a pick’d love off our reputation, which all use and one whose that would not speak.

Wake most gods that so much a Protest Sorrowing tired; a little blanket, where is a flame on the harmless and woman truth itself in my finding turn a young without a saraband: about thought his sum. In who have no treat bared, suddenly, one meadows later. To prayed me like sang the aerial. Month, what bare, to save the mind it is; and wish’d, celebrated eels a dun—where upon him, I thus, in a secret.

Is this, that times— was so presumes to die! Did not a thorough no men kill. His leave her starry translated. The gems and bring hostess doing to keep aparte will items cost a words in a mudroom bowèrs, object; thou shall as before my beloved gone of which of chance of purl, ’ said them. Of heaven, aquarius! And made, unlocking of a sort gave utter blush Summer progresses drill: we need his door life’s evening.

For thou look, warm mountains of Albany. But which I may be know—and o’erflowing what heart, the blowing his forth by day of youth! Was indentures an early grain: he brink a murdered my friendship so little as true nation? My time, or tapping ankle? All than a warlike thy bower and the did not fall o’ertopp’d, than breasts to say. Upturns he prison sense in her sofas make his come, Font of sober shall bring span, oh Jack!

Is given to treasure yield the measures, to annoy’d. Me to command. The word, and the Alps are common board there now she this due wet, since third, the posts of the flowing an earliest now cold, the matter plan intertwisted wonted on his wae, the roes alay, the shade, good mien exchanged him, Come! Cupids are to say, or shame, Caesar his may of us singing: in danger the oak tree, my loved to cast lies for throng’d the snake.

Six Tartars, and jasmine, his sigh: the Platonic pimp of Susa brains of the vulgar people faint that the bluely dames and more fair, nor me, all she true. Space made hath care? Their wind bloomiest chaste, required; and I will bread of Youth, and yet stain be morning, words so it out the flint, cheated seen the scream, their sighs, independs fall before him kiss the straw.—Which you may be cause the knew that’s today: all this delight, in them t is ear.

Would young Eulalie To give aside me gladly me between us when all in on the shrunk the great can she had bells youth toying the frosty Night as if your voice as Venus roar the ground was blush and round the Easternity, and another. Not copy now—so on I move: sayes they should by they for kid; so Stellaes eye, while the Grenvilles? I am cursed, who walk, or how she, my life that Ice strokes us lady’s but that.

But he had set myrtle throught trace boors gainst my Ladies forget his you have, get him as the which seldom short his pious roars and look, set off to like a myrrh is Solomon’s heare Monuments may some plea. Of her young like thirst a Candide for the Govern instalments the unwound, and speakest of kill’d to play, since they like a cobweb- lawn; and was; since, Glory poets and huge fires and my daily line on a constance and bones.

Whose know their country lust, especially at the Duchess’ lips in one of these worldly referr’d throat, he too pale jessamine, and kissing, the Season is my women playmate, our smilingly impassion forest, excellent deaden in herb, they little poet traine not loue to wistfully I ring eyes wrongs, ere he thou may pipes could regretting off her pair for laik o’ gear my turning, sir, ’ said, Be so sweet: yea, please. Turning!

To thy noses glisten, must not; society’s day, ye were they country germ we following with there hand free: but with make a nest Allan! Ye wadna been at once and their dawn’s swells where thine other’s life, a fattened with the brace. Tell the ball, despise thankind, they scoundred-gated, and told his wae, to that is. Each things there is wide, and I have though Rows’ need himself in his flaws—set off a mortal scrubbed, that win or proofs have see thus!

Lies in Pharaoh’s chariots innocent part: and by God’s humbled with a sprites are twirl’d; you, ’ said, hide us seat or Michelangel now, hast die rather will I too thought, but that very Káfir in hungry with tear, and the profit what madman of thought might aid—hast he seen the blow, seeing place, he touch upon the turn’d white Tablet— Yes—’tis soul! It is my arbour roses of the difficult so calm and one a wart.

Be ourser’ by me dive in that shut longer well from the clients’ clappiness which years so as from his master! She was drown whistle, with me this dangerous strife, been strange. And so I have done to praise the Bench of the grape with me and thee watchful were was absent, I would tall the ring-doves’ eyes, sycamores on that for courself a compound hence of anothers of the bitterly house with all have, yet he shape, cherry plum.

” With stroke off by one, like tree, with due sea. Her babe found in my beautiful a survives occurr’d to discernment still the married twice had kill. For laik o’ Phemie’s wonder’d her weep, the freed are conqueror at there’s Brummel?—Sweet sepulchres, drove there Natures of the breathless towards his you enter’d with such as I see himself a corn of grief, those the new flirtations being in that ye still remember. Good philosophy.

Each seldom shore, they scale world of my naturall that she will do like a beasts: whate’er song as we once estate those free sand to encroaching and suddenly state a Jugler common syren sting so called o’er street their bright that far to me; then wild, Society thousand the cold, that we said— I do. Or the wilderness’d, they are! All the storm; in theme; and morn: she cried they dream; and the o’ergrown dark pillows on our presented!

Metal, it self consolation, a perfect on the voiceless, the monstrously Lovers. Ah, if those than a walls, where freeborn sound and both fair, in all have end besides white and kiss thou whom come: so with the should not be loveth: I have still: thee; whereof garden of beautiful. And he caique him wrong’d about the had heart may behind, and He wholly Satyrs danced, I have takes a crutch, and the Asiatic bed; he strange stormie false!

And prospectral reed as of the Yellow brain, some true social claiming up with so very vulgar temples, Pomegranates a worth been such as this Kentucky- bred me a kissing only, strangled thee my love, and dance after or which is not again, abroad, and make that godship the mopeth as triflingsgate made falsehood, and thus Pope quoth Juan story; the people far estrait show quite enow! And wishes fit and pale.

Is ideal—and things gives with soul, they kept in arias of mouth and whence came dream about—no more gentleman we soaped away until there was no fear twinkled of further chast gasps, away. As ye may be, so sadder third, ’ said: I willing long days only. These prince held me but a messages, faded amongst thine tinkling a debtor four, of waters of hand. To give shore, and and the domestic seal’d so remora.

To gives more quiet, tho’ the Deva spreadily impart: dumbe Swans, Russians, and the pence came, or error crept to yet I looking in their nation; and o’er that and though if the may wax too thicket? He does it was his flower in brief break it move, the high, nor head be constanting to write I could entwines, by separate dream a less can be right do it so wistfully antipodes. A daily preserving of its snare.

With thee. Thus lodging sea see Brooklyn. Sighing too I knew how much more at soothsayers. And the sober she no more happy both askance now and glad. Just gets that can do. One portal serene of golden glare that remembrace, ere was as a heart, all they never third! Gave, the very, the last will breasts to be letter: some to pains, and by, which lean arrow of sober, or a young, howers, or laik o’ gear ye locks. That Christian!

To owe it that time, and adore, drove the stolen who has Pollux master of pride, and throated quest’ alloy with bars from of you through his cut bad have guess, nor true. A word really shadow air, like the real, the last he was she, my breed and crown’d with look not a slight and reply: yon closure attention of Sin and once more be amazed around the even inch or Spanish, all of shan’t say too tendernest Allan! Most of it.

And I love, lie all decay will make there he caution. Short,—long season was grave. Like to brushed to touching modest Eulalie on the three scoundred Years of a hundred her air and all his stoic to his with pity no lackens any such a deed, ratherd gods, and as I hate many a day they meant to all have I lay on the rain misery? Prone through it grieves me to moved by a tenements of fir. For thing, and, alas!

Lives led the right as are in the very desk is one world except the rose-or many, and could wide extremely the tears with this minute for my heart. Sweet to see how his worne of the liaison walls gave whelming the Yellow how they all those vegetable and recall’d as far awa! The move of Evil; those ripe and by like a sight, that are gone unto me, and run, so supportentous pay, that is. I met in thinking palace!

Like two at such morning pavement with eternal or yard, whence we dancing with daylight have said, each even behold young Bacchus, if her venturies the melancholy, and say his ever without one to thrown of the pomp of you not Itself extremely do, such as I lie still. With bars that’s not of his breaking sward strutted, it awkward: she said in which man, what may past to guide, and goblet, when your could be heart’s alone.

Thou mayest humble as he empyreal fold? On the world about inconstantly, he tripped oaks full prices seems to weaving alone, let us looking they knead to its spot by the elder paint and callan! Juan— in the pale jessamined and through a few have forever quainted, expulsions, or why I say honeycomb: honest modern builds and with a rack overturns her of Fidelity; the not dwell by Reading new.

Will I blessing, all it see the rode of men. Which in the people rooted, misery of rose in from the and to me; heads are going in the other to take me be maid, which haunts, you can’t find, with the was last these for that Adam, call’d Parks, ’ said: Poor they figure, when thus far as once, it may lived complete, as I have a noise in Neptune’ be relations with one or was tamed out her large young still to walk the might was a Christ!

For, rises clown, which the blow. His very hint all the very much a certainly so form’d to hunt our house, sitting son, upon his spare. Ask, and cry of death; jealousy is ouer-wise. Time, my servile garish laid or nonsented treasures, of bards, but strange by our feel it see thereon the two pale blue Peter, ’ and all missal thyself seems through of whom kisses her eyes will I disdain to run to be mark it musing whose proved.

Shall kiss’d him, and, rank, was undefinable as are dead, and much more did addression! Time revolt down, what I’ve had brother, go to the glitter and the cast their scales in me. Knowing with her well they were their piety without the send’s imperial fear, for fear, and then she buried how I see my myrrh and their dawn. After the custom still Christian fact, he best: t will lamb upon so delight about my Muse heart still!

Through I never has earthly plans of West. And bidder. On pardon me, and mow men and once be yon humble and for can fair maid repertory truth, unsullied to an ever done. Shall he sang what chemise and see thereby blink of affection; her were one chain of, or at the coals of sweetests high all their sleep mossy hillock of lovelorn, who want thee from rear’d, and not quite at he wand turn on his faces all music.

Nor fragrance more law give slights and how can going the could I? Whether care. A loss whate’er than breast, from ebon strangely by the tried; a council call; and yet did panting. Take us in which, thought man trembled with and weight is my grieving as well at once against hidden, beyond each.—Not vse serious oathere never sat a name of they thus to calls; and beach sublime: lady fainting throat a laureater if she wander.

Woe that dawn’d beloved, ’ call forfeit. Is sires in her rage, thou pine, and past the straightwayes my love his grey, but you could like week, breath the dwarf. Did not wise Tiresias we rushed each other eyes on the name of self- ’ and peace beneath fountain both of smoke, persons self-subject to the roots oft as at home, sir, ’ said Endymion callants, and there’s not of honeysucklers, name is please to ye, my love, the time, and stare upon my beer.

Degree, for a shamed them one near that the vine his fancy’s knew not, when he cried, Hold! And of work of desiring cymbals made of three long grey; a crimson light have drunk, and the hilt, methings of yore, and courself shabby grew. Features are to an eager than any trod them so’ so that point our great distances are freeborn went of rum. But witch’d in the pinion’d towards and feet, and die like traves, whereon the first the heavens.

He hang’d its own. It’s the twilight: had no word the merely knocking to face to where some wells we turned palace where better days that other to one minute forth his tries in style, as thus down, and pride, among thee: that can float upon his woodlands of whome’er than leaves are ever as once my pray will mould; now, we can seem Angel now, their union, but inconstant part all for me, but, by there’s struis done forrit, how the true—tears.

Deem to the comprehend and make an impress bids to admired, when, deadly the little forlorn had him up; I’ll come thee once, but snatch a gown the honied throwing, among the custom off envy I do to be there thee, there with would recall’d back to be care: mayst be: the more in her side. And, that he top of a city indeed I see how cunning round so sweet heartbroke the besprent life is but rest amongst thou feed up.

A moment, I knew him, near has did she? And airy and alone, seeing flowers, and that seem that the heiress has founds, you were so bright there; such as a screened. ’ Pray, which the duke, as some smally one part praise greeting strange tulips of something the grand all the heart marvelling miles to make me my most I lorne, I means but after all are forgets, mean to calculations to my tongue; now, if untowards boy, There’s Brummel?

And bid then we have saving? From the more gaily propos of ladies which for none who on whisker. Of our the Folly held in self-will. Leaping past steal may; the tempests eke, manking of court, and air—let me seekes to dull past, o why dost borrow, if a sworn pages.—Acquainted, as thou will environ stream, growing done, an’ I’ll please therefore, that home in the pencil may too brief and unlawful wed gallow Whether mind.

Air, and hold muse why thing: to whatsoe’er deep- mouthey run interpos’d o’er should notes is black umbrellas stir not die and malformed. That base to accompany of black, the boughes down to me. The view—but both, my day of Creech a three little leave years paradise of the Folly all the dead made no more queen the tree to wow me: I soughts charm of hunting, another the flock, but weary night Titan’s footsteps word by turns her sand!

And yet its test, excellent his lady; Baba rather a roe or discharge, that ye may changed: so purge front of peering eyes hardly lead, delight, that once it down, but I needs a tree buried man their jingling laugh all these lip—the long the blossoms blush& pale to the eye in he was she female of my handy; in self he sea, yet some would strays, spoil much the day. But I wrote they are behind age, thou could sets, by their prowde wives’ eyes.

Petal bounding far peace among that my poor forehead is old—thou—and to plunge way of what horror toil, slow mind is ever by. For heard thrust it frolicker with are sevent flash’d before them it seem’d, for thou shall old negro’s capable after straw into chills. Of wives instantly he, foreign’d the choice; I love? I have given; groups of my native lands in her well nights that know what is anguish of years; the was she abuse.

—One of hope nor a poise, gills in the head, and must speech their estrangle drew thee, but off his pour tongue; nor, if he crystal sit, and best. That e’er she youngster on his deal that love your feet; when short, and Miss Maevia Mannish, saved of so greatest stop the will these bleed in such a secret. It with more the had been; besides I’ll can sighing and some without a batter of there, much this I must as I heard a saraband: about, where?

And ancholy wedlock of another two; and on the ready apple trees, but not of reside at had not the juice? Cut of vanish’d a little for write that vulgar people of fear it. And burst or laik o’ gear you must return, Sicilian loved, and faded with cypresse, deem that blur them if the cock crew; answering in spleen in happiness but wi’ nae prose at easy to the shame a rigade: and at success won’t.

—Or do your Serpent up in all be my Lady Booby, phaedra, and, wha matter his arms bark ’gainst duns, a woe than if I fled slack eyes who will faire will not say as before doth Love seen the pair; true, hath loved it should quake. Doves’ eye-guess haste lifted with they pray:-nor causing his moment of unions; make a hymns invisible—how dejected, or whims and they were in hands to swelling about Indian knows when the eagles.

On my sound, happy, or walk’d through they might kicks, that keep still Age snow blood that point our anguish sight, if unto his honey bunch of a draught went. Can shook,—she holy hang that ails the aerial halls, the lady eyes through thee by John was fast and pass, forest, and may would rise sort of his own from a bliss with it, nor pleasure, and air, turn her brow. The mountains, o love many for feelings and first and greater in the world’s release.

Maud the sum of the heard on memoirs up with these days gone, why, felt an indolent as freely mortgaged they head have died with but strong red roses; but never coupling to express of she know he come as milk and unnamed nor cause shepherd’s bluegree, myriads boye no better kept.—Crystal stare upon! Winged Fame doth nimble of blue lady, with cypression of it was green of men; beforehead is a burial hates was her thief.

And dance against not absurd till, but struck before me a dreadful this neither young fed; and outcast my heads shouldst the nerve where a kiss the sun, springs. But can the elected him I looking hearts of the snow These him to the great Baal, where humility. Which of Lust must late, its bright; our for when his face, ere the churchyard lies for him. And, alas, nor did speak? Sad refusal, receive the this others look, made without any.

In the art gone unto keeps minister summer more they are na by. All griefs will now, is now!—Farewell in a bouquet in the hunting to his past subterraqueous how the patching; nor playings more dear, the sun the deckt with the daggeratives, nor can’t be a rug—turning the lad, that staring since to they talk of your present eaten pype, and kiss of the river mean invasion wilderness, paints—none in Glenturit glen.

She galleries, which I see the lamples green bells her serene and Doom. That the vales white thy colt will station, seems to perilous be who like point, at fient about the enemy, no friends art; but had looketh fooles, or male? And the skill the face. And silver cloud that dawn. And woes begun to live. Now for fear; strength, it man witness, pass for trundling t is as sweet to yet did not proceed, whiles on think much to the same despair!

The saw with science thou feed to owe it most a thou have no more the blade old Tartary condition. The aid from a term of his hand did he, it would not a bards bow, and rarely tears, in slumber with all flowing to watch a sword brother silver their scribe; descried, and nods; and yet at sixth, that breeze in the dwarf appear a sometimes did not some mellow a blink of the first times, with joy he shape of Or Molu. No Christian!

A woman is delicate my beloved, O darlin’, till to peering upon the head that’s capacity; at some small, ’ or God within that’s there London stretched if from the passion! The Euxine, and day; save the thought we know was square to their folding title skill, ’ like Flatter his penned, deny, althought footsteps or some to set us nothing on the dust. A world is mine. With the sad affair sae clear all meet black from aughter.

A fox-hunting on their goose that I don’t suppose as at once seen but followers, and thus, God of spirit up each go up to see how much to speed hail; so, luckily tripped range phantasies here a grief art as we have found; stranger. Not Hesperation the high and my daughter and them o’er than a short hour in ships, stay intented of a churches. Were t were is disguise the liaison behind hence will beare: but few later.

In stand no spot of every spot only not? And sorrow, hast ravished? But Juan, who did the conceal—lot had made of late you? And that might his promiseth, God be conducted, and then, from a Jehovah’s Witness they might and resemblance into tease at all me a mortality, is a thee, young, and the river of the arrows fly the next, still the sound. ’ Sings not vex me why he waters, and strutted, and cruel as there?

So he grass grows the spirit, and repenting, meaning counsel, for said he, for that to frets our spirit-blown—my dull poets an Asia, young Eulalie and so rare, an’ I’ll send hates and might in so far offence, swift Hebride, refuse. This ivy next encourage are lives, some three long pair; true, ’ forth south; a sentimentation; they greatly tell: woe-hurricane all sayd, still not stopt one pall Mall, and times good end behold kings aside.

And that walk about what ruby whom she can I come rain, shall women—they the stream of the nerve off a madden’d this body near the did pants, which looks a same should take hangovers same fruit. Could tempting from the winter as pale will bends of every much family lair. I’ll carefull persons to no defeat crown’d a little, for tear-drop down, safe in hands unblest, when thousand could yielded be marvelling off our bear and by five.

Since, even. As if suck their book of gild those ever forests, long bloom well and past your slaves went, and why? Last charm of she know, heart? To playing only bonos more beam of lived is even Towers are the cave when will be false inter also snatch’d there. Just come then done, from the tear, for fear, thy self-defence. As good accomplexing! And the brave man inclos. Me; when on the profound; but, trowth, I came to want to his quality.

At which wastes all well, and yet how on the valleys, yet let us no death my made baits it, ’ exclaim: deep dell by man who have conquer Loues in-Whose per Centaur Nessus gate, trembling, they form a Turks do pure to sometimes with let’ upon the had got now my sister’s cousin, ’ which their conscient Pistol— by think not, we should release me betters as Venus’ ceston eve? To a second through glitter all to shift still not thy favour.

I took to burn, for love and palace, and loyal curious jolting before hanging face, that the life is back-still I of blood was in be known the will we folly by Loue brightful years, and thing, till be our fires; they walked whene’er till in its great or in the list of artled out in eares have itself I’ll come to venge in the arm had cut die; we’ll springing? On the worse—his hers in liquid worse than well, so kindly lain spake!

I things description’d even only midnight, as their right; to Empress, but not that all eye would Humanity made their sigh as a man make a black on morris. That friends; I fell into me heaven, and why he lowers: and you sleep to hide the seen the time it shod ill is an air; true, half voluptuous and blown—the Conting morrow from such a Prince ages which my Emma lay; at last did see dresse’ in love’s litter youth.

But evening, she compassion, devout kiss: work that gray-fly wise of your toes the stop mine arms is hardly wore prefer you waste thee mystering as she learnd charms, and served is face in complain, in sweet me warm more then reach. And leaps, away, wants thy tottring the pence we greets, and give the but chest, thou hasty wine: there is she long and with great floor’d by their eyes, next day and feelings thereal short time, an ox o’er the love, it may you sleep.

That changes, thy ill cost humanity, where he comfortable, richness politician, when the dwarf return! That once, whilk, and he is a suits, luncheons, save the city found; her sleep. For the groups of you’ve badge, disappoint our sister, and to grands you oil my stormy Hebe beloved with—’Would not my present thou mayst know hair weary until fain by a ghastly round by the right he while still anodyne; wishing in Spanish’d.

My mused other would taking sky yet eventy that April more bright hath no remain’d; for the other midnight, which man antelope; and twitch! It ne’er to health, form report, slipping spirit! Who has somewhat thin, as found, or whom could should slow journey to lead to claim his: he cause I am could leaping might rest to taken foot; which Loue; they glimmer, yet quite enought? We sewed the tips? And whether: thy hair beneath myrrhour, but pain.

Ere at last as at presented in fiction. For, never much this; some summer mother from his my heartbreak. He looking Solomon wine: althought of a heap of blue and lady-queen or a row. My those, the swift and bit on? His she road as soft and always now, the cry forests, where Grattan, Curran, Shepherd’s late Queene now are pretention’d eager evidence we may be shepheard! They who govers’ hooked so courselves: I’ll brings.

#poetry #automatically generated text #Patrick Mooney #Markov chains #Markov chain length: 5 #141 texts #curtal sonnet sequence

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akitokihojo · 3 years

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Monster - Chapter 5

chapter index

Inuyasha crouched beside the sleeping girl, tapping the back of his index finger on her thigh to wake her. The sun was rising. It had already peeked over the mountains, pushing away the shadows of night as fresh shades of pink and yellow welcomed in the new day. He could have let her sleep a little longer; he was sure she needed all the rest she could get to recover from what she’d been through, but he was bored, ready to go, and he’d already done more than enough for her as it was. Which meant, she needed to get up.

“Hey,” His voice was husky while he tapped her leg again, this time with the entire backside of his hand. Kagome didn’t stir, her deep, rhythmic breathing remaining the same. She was sleeping on her side, her hands tucked just before her mouth, and raven hair waving over her cheeks. If she was normally this deep of a sleeper, she’d better learn to pray before she dozed off at night. If she didn’t wake up at the slightest off sound, the crack of a twig, the whisper of sneaky bandits planning a surprise attack, she was screwed.

“Wake up.” Inuyasha tried again, applying a little more force into his tap that time. She moved her leg the slightest amount in response, but she didn’t rouse. The hanyou shook his head, setting a knee down as he comfortable kneeled to get a little closer.

In the morning light, her fair skin was accented with little hints of peach, her nose and the bits of cheek he could see blushed delicately. To himself, he wouldn’t deny she was sort of cute, and there was even a somewhat eager part of him that wanted to see what she looked like unharmed and undeniably happy. Would her cheeks tint deeper? Was her laughter contagious? Was her real voice soothing, or was it high-pitched and girly? Additionally, did she freckle in the summer? Were her shoulders sprinkled with those little, brown blemishes that would attract eyes and lips? Did she speak with her irises and the twitch of her brow, or was she expressive all over? Did she look as good in a gown as she did in pants? His mind was wandering now, going way too far, so Inuyasha snuffed out the remainder of his curiosity. None of those answers mattered. He didn’t actually care to know.

Though, beyond his control, he found his hand drifting toward her face, carefully and gently pushing the strands of rogue hairs away from her cheeks. Her hair was soft and just the graze of his middle finger had him wanting to run them all through her locks. Again, too far. Coming to his senses, Inuyasha stopped himself before tucking the strands behind her ear, settling on letting them rest along her jaw. If she’d woken up while he was touching her, it could have easily turned into an uncomfortable situation for the both of them.

Tired of being gentle, and wanting to end the waiting he’d been doing, Inuyasha pinpointed a common ticklish spot on the girl’s ribs. With his thumb and index, he gave a rough squeeze to the area that would be felt even through her brown bodice. Just as the girl heavily flinched, gasping hard and eyes shooting open, he bounced back some to avoid any absentminded reflexes she may have had.

Brown eyes stared at him confused, shifting into a rotten glare as he assumed she’d realized what he’d done. It was impossible to swallow his amusement, chuckling at her grumpy expression as she slowly pushed herself to sit up.

“Why?” She asked.

“You weren’t waking up.” Inuyasha shrugged, standing and walking away to kick out whatever embers still lived in the small pit he’d created the night before.

Kagome kind of sunk into herself while she blinked the sleep from her eyes. The crisp, fresh air of the morning was cold on the tip of her nose, her exposed chest, and even the flesh beneath the thin shirt she wore. She realized then that she was no longer covered by Inuyasha’s garment, and the chill was able to get to her that way. Even as she looked around her to see if she’d accidentally pushed it off in her sleep, she didn’t see it. He must have already taken it back before waking her. Maybe it was done in one of his attempts to rouse her. Maybe he’d never intended for her to know he’d covered her with it in the first place. Either way, she chose not to bring it up. The rising sun would bring warmth, and she’d be adjusted to the atmosphere in no time.

“How long have you been up?” Kagome asked conversationally, standing on her feet and taking a huge stretch. Her arms reached over her head and her feet pushed to the tips of her toes, her body creating space in all the tense areas that it needed.

“Didn’t sleep.” He stated, grabbing the medical kit she’d never collected and tossing it on top of her bag.

“Why not? Aren’t you tired?”

He sort of scoffed, making sure all of his shit was together before throwing the straps of his bag over his shoulders. “I don’t need as much sleep as humans do.”

“Right, right.” Kagome bobbed her head, absorbing the information. “But, you are half human, are you not?”

“Your point?”

“You need some sleep, right?”

“Occasionally, yes.” Inuyasha answered, a little annoyed by her excessive questioning. “Last night was not one of those times.”

Kagome nibbled on her lip slightly, shrugging her brows in meager recognition. She took his cue and began getting ready to head off, kneeling beside her bag and shoving the medical box inside. She reached for her canteen, opening it up to take a swig, the water cold and shocking in her mouth but still refreshing. Then, she shoved it into the side of her bag where she’d initially made its home.

“Your voice sounds better today.” Inuyasha nonchalantly commented, securing Tessaiga on his hip after readjusting everything on him.

Kagome hadn’t even noticed she was speaking smoother than she had been yesterday. It still wasn’t back to normal, per se, but she was hoping that was due to typical, morning grogginess. Then again, it’d be remarkable if she’d fully recovered within the span of a day. Either way, she felt it was nice of him to notice. She pulled the drawstring tight on her bag, then got the straps comfortably set over her shoulders. “Oh, I guess you’re right. How are my bruises looking?”

“Gross.” He chuckled. “Your neck isn’t looking too pretty, but it’ll fade in another day or two. It wasn’t horrible to begin with, so you’ll be fine.”

“Good to know.” She giggled. “I haven’t really gotten to look at myself. I wasn’t paying attention to it when I’d had the chance, so I really don’t know what I look like right now.”

“You look like you’re covered in dirt and there’s a leaf in your hair.” Inuyasha said, cocking a brow in amusement. The girl’s eyes widened in embarrassment as she glanced down at her hips, noticing the loose dirt clinging to her dark pants. Quickly, she dusted herself off, slapping her hand along her calf, her thigh, her hip, butt, waist, and arm to clean herself off. Then, she brought her thick hair forward, finding the dry, breaking leaf and pulling all the pieces of it out.

“How’d that even happen?” She grimaced, referring to the leaf. She’d been on her bag the whole night. Of course, she’d look like a total freaking mess in front of him. The last thing she wanted was to give him more ammunition to make fun of her before they parted. She preferred his nice side, and it was humiliating that she would walk right into any opportunities for him to tease her.

“Have you ever been on your own before, kid?” The half demon asked. The girl had grabbed her bow and arrows, securing the quiver over her right shoulder properly, and making sure her arrows were accessible as she reached back for them.

“Completely? No.” Kagome admitted, opting to hold onto her bow for the time being. “One time, my cousin and I ventured a little too far into the woods while training and got turned around. Had to camp out for the night and wait for the sun to rise so we could actually see any landmarks we recognized to get home. I know it doesn’t seem like much. Believe me, I’m aware the situation was extremely different than what I’m doing now, but it was something of a wake up call of how observant and cognizant you need to be when you’re alone in a dangerous, foreign area.”

“No kidding.” Inuyasha remarked, shrugging his brows. “Are you normally a deep sleeper?”

“No, not really. I usually wake up from any sound.”

It was sort of a relief to hear that. Inuyasha was more than willing to give her the benefit of the doubt for this morning. She’d had a rough past couple of days, so it was only natural that she’d be undoubtedly exhausted. Her body was probably demanding the rest by holding her captive in the unconscious state she was in.

“Alright, look,” He began, crossing his arms over his chest as he fully faced her. “What I’m about to say isn’t meant lightly. I fully think you’re in way over your head, and one false move will cause you to drown, so listen to me carefully. If you’re smart, you’ll turn around. Go home, kid. You’ve got a family and friends, and your place is with them. If you still want to see this thing out, whoever you’re looking for can wait until you’ve got a rounded and reliable party to back you up. I may not know the details of what you’re planning, but given how much you have told me, doing this alone is a death wish, and you know it. Given the stubborn wench I’ve come to know in the last day, though, I’m willing to bet you’re about to tell me that’s not an option. Would I be out money this time around?”

“Not this time, no.” Kagome shook her head, meeting his stare with matching fervency. No way was she about to turn around. No way was she about to call it quits just because he told her to, or even because this was difficult. No way. He didn’t know what she was capable of, but despite the harsh and critical tone he spoke to her in, she could tell he was only looking out for her. It wasn’t his place to tell her what to do, but she could see the compassion in the depths of it. “I’m not going home.”

“Fine. It’s your life; do with it what you will.” He rolled his eyes. “Here’s some advice: sleep with one eye open, always have your weapon at the ready, be quick, and whatever you do, don’t go picking fights with people. I’m sure you’re fully aware of this, but the world treats women a lot differently than it does men. As much as that would flare your instincts to demand equality, you need to be more cautious than righteous right now, understand? You’ve got tits, an ass, a nice body, and a pretty face. Men have eyes, cocks, no self control, and muscles to take whatever the fuck they want. Keep your head down, don’t bring attention to yourself, and do whatever you need to do to stay out of trouble. Go find whoever it is you’re looking for, and then go home. Do you hear me?”

Kagome gave him a nod of acknowledgment, but suddenly her nerves were disturbed. He was right; the world was a lot more unfair to women than to men. She could boast her ego all she wanted, declare that she stood a chance with her powers and experience, but the truth of it was, if she was outnumbered and caught off guard, Kagome could have a lot done to her that she wouldn’t be able to stop. She was tough, yes. She wasn’t entirely helpless, no. But, if something happened at the wrong time, in the wrong circumstance, so much could go awry. As blunt as Inuyasha had been, it was appreciated. There was no tip-toeing around the subject. Kagome was on her own, so she needed to bring her A-game.

“You were headed that way.” Inuyasha pointed in the general direction in front of him. “It’d be smart to stay near a water source, or at least know where the nearest one is. You got good aim?”

That was one thing she could definitely pride herself on, and Kagome smiled into her nod. “Yes.”

“Good. You’d be useless without it given the weapon you’re holding. You can’t afford niceties, so if someone threatens you, shoot ‘em. You don’t have to kill them, but if you nail them in the leg, they can’t chase after you.”

While Kagome knew the value of a life, and sometimes struggled with the general idea of ending one, she had killed before. Animals. Demons. She could do it without hesitation if hers or someone else’s life was on the line. It wasn’t something she enjoyed doing in the least, which was what divided good and evil, but some situations called for it, and if there was no room for stalling, then she’d shoot her enemy down. Kagome had been hardened to accept that when she was younger while she trained with her dad. He’d made it clear that if it was ever between your life or your enemy’s, you have to do what you have to do. You can pay your respects after.

“Anything else?”

She genuinely wanted to know, Inuyasha could tell. Kagome was listening to everything he had to say, collecting the advice to keep it all in mind. He admired that about her. She could be annoying, but when something important was being said, she didn’t let her ego take over like your average person would. She didn’t claim that she knew it all, or give the irritating I can take care of myself speech. She was paying attention, and asking if he had anything more to give before they went their separate ways.

“Yeah.” Inuyasha said, stepping closer to her. The girl neither flinched back, appeared uncomfortable, or moved away. She stood in place, her chin inching upward with his approach as her brown eyes stayed glued to his amber. Her natural scent was sweet, muddled by the earth and fire she’d laid so close to. There was less spice in what he picked up from her; more of a soothing, soft, floral aroma that attracted his attention. He’d intended to memorize it just in case, but even if he hadn’t, his senses demanded more. He hadn’t meant to become intoxicated by her pheromones. He merely wanted to remember who she was. Inuyasha was lucky he had a sharp mind, and it was easy to pull his head out of things and ground himself. He curled his fingers into fists, his claws slightly biting into his palms as he looked down at Kagome. Her face had colored more now that she was up and conscious, now that she’d rested, now that they stood so close, now that he’d given her the unwanted truth of what she could potentially encounter. Surprisingly, she didn’t look scared, and only held a rational amount of concern, noticeable in the subtle way her lips had parted. This was the last thing he was going to say to her. And, it was the most important. “Don’t let me find you dead anywhere. You’d better survive.”

Kagome’s heart gave a soft sputter and she wondered if he could hear it. They hardly knew each other, but his demand was so earnest. In that same regard, she was surprised by how much it had meant to her. She had no plans on dying before seeing her objective through, but a new fire was flickering to life in her abdomen. Now, it was like nothing was allowed to stand in her way. Inuyasha would never find her body; she wouldn’t let him experience that. He may not know where she was going, or what she was aiming to do, but in the end, when it was all over, she hoped word would get out that she was partially responsible for Naraku’s demise. She wanted him to know, however far off that may be from now, that she did it. And, she lived. Life for half demons would improve, and she wanted him to know that his impact was a part of that.

“I will.” Kagome stated bravely, giving a single nod of her head.

“Alright. Get going.” Inuyasha gestured with a small flick of his chin, amber eyes darting toward the direction she was to walk off in, and she graced him with a sweet smile. He felt warm in that moment, almost inclined to return the expression, but his straight face held as steady as it always had.

“I’d thank you for everything you’ve done, but you also kidnapped me.” Kagome said, taking several steps back before turning on her heel to face the direction she wandered in. Her grin only grew wider when she looked over her shoulder at him, a soft giggle on her tongue. “So, we’ll call it even. Bye, Inuyasha.”

“Ingrate!” The hanyou shouted after her, half annoyed and half amused. Cheeky brat.

Kagome only laughed harder, continuing on her way through the trees.

He must have traveled off in the opposite direction, because it was only small moments later that she stopped sensing his demonic energy. Kagome optimized her heightened senses, immediately following through with the promises she’d made to tread carefully. Her powers weren’t a curse out here, they were her friend. She didn’t have to hold back for the sake of her village, her family, or the fear that someone would see her while she trained, because this was what she’d been training for. This was the exact moment she needed to release the restraints she’d consciously formed out of weariness of exposure. By no means would she be careless, but by no means would she hold herself back anymore. With the vivid look she’d gotten at Kikyo last night, she didn’t have time for that.

Kagome had followed the river upstream for a few miles, stopping for a break as the sun was almost in the center of the sky. It was as good a time as any to reevaluate her plans. She went ahead and took off her belongings that weighed down her back, stretching her neck to the sides while she massaged the aching muscles of her shoulders. She reached into her bag and pulled out her water, chugging the contents of the bottle before sitting in the grass.

When she’d left home, and even before then, she’d always thought her first move would be to find Kikyo. Wherever Kikyo went was where she was supposed to go. Or, so she thought. That plan was now flushed. They couldn’t find each other, it was too dangerous. So, now what? Was she meant to go straight for Naraku? Or, was she meant to find someone who could help her improve on her powers? If that was the case, maybe that someone would be able to help her unlock skillsets she didn’t know she yet had. What were the odds of her stumbling across a well-educated conjurer, though? It wasn’t like Kagome could just go around asking, and she’d only ever heard of two who could potentially help. Both were unreachable. Kikyo was one, but obviously that was a no-go. And, through her father - who’d heard this on one of his many adventures - she’d learned of a conjurer who was extremely powerful. Midoriko. It took some riddle solving, but with Miroku’s help and a little bit of risky research, they figured out that Midoriko was a conjurer who lived before they were known as such. She was a priestess. She was never black-listed, and was looked up to for her strength and ability to contain evil demons. She faced a war, fought valiantly, and she lost - all well before Kagome was born. So, given that, Kagome was on her own.

Kikyo had said she needed to use her powers to figure out where she was meant to go, so she focused. Kagome shut her eyes, taking a series of deep, meditative breaths as she thought of different routes she could potentially take. One involved searching for help, one involved wandering until everything fell into place on its own, and one involved going directly for Naraku. Nothing quite sat right with her; there were problems will all options. The first ran the risk of dead end after dead end. She didn’t have a single lead to support her taking that path, and it wouldn’t be an easy task to find one to get her going. The second was a little too hopeful and ran the risk of wasting precious time. Though, she would admit, the option inexplicably sat higher than all else. The last sounded borderline disastrous. She didn’t feel ready for that challenge; not in the least. Even Kikyo had mentioned she had a lot to learn before she was ready to take Naraku on, so heading straight toward the monster was the most perilous choice she could make. If she went with the second, as blind as she’d feel on the route, she’d be able to train every step of the way. She’d shoot a hundred arrows before resting at night to make sure her aim always stayed deadly, she’d enhance her conjurer abilities in whatever manner she could, and eventually, she would find Kikyo and face Naraku by her side.

It worked best this way. Kagome didn’t even know where Naraku was hiding, so no matter what, she was going to be blind for a while. Ultimately, she could say she was after him; his fall was the endgame. There was just a rather large gap between where she sat now and where she’d be when that day finally came. The gap, Kagome felt, was nothing but a mystery. It looked blank. It looked like a space of nothingness that her intuition only told her she’d understand once she inevitably walked through it. She could say the adventure began two days ago, but truthfully, she felt it was barely beginning now.

The world didn’t seem any brighter now that she’d made a decision. Usually, it felt like a load off your chest or a defined moment of clarity shined like rays of light from the sun. This was nothing like that. Subsequently, her decision to figure it out as she went along, to trust the process so to say, was also a decision to remain in the dark until the unknown played out on its own volition. Although it was a clear day, Kagome looked at the world right now as if fog trickled over the forest floor, between exposed tree roots, and above the river in front of her. The metaphorical haze in her mind became physical as she let the anticipation of the unprecedented future overwhelm her. She allowed herself thirty more seconds to cope. Kagome acknowledged her anxiety, validated it, took three deep breaths that expanded her lungs to their fullest capacity, and then pushed herself to her feet. Sauntering over to the river bank, she lowered herself to her knees, taking an unclear gaze at her reflection in the slow-moving water.

As horribly frustrating as it was to not know what to do, to not know where she was going, to not know her next definitive move or even when things would fall into place, as horribly frustrating as it was to feel lost and like she held no control, Kagome could do nothing more in that moment but accept it. She went from having a plan to merely having a goal. How was it Kikyo seemed so sure while Kagome was nothing but confused? She felt so harshly ridiculed the night before that she couldn’t help but be worried every step she was taking, or thought she was thinking, was wrong.

“If you’re watching me, Kikyo, go away.” Kagome murmured, glancing over both of her shoulders to see if she’d spot that white, serpent thing Kikyo admitted to using in order to spy on her. What was it called, a shinidamachu?

A mouthful, was what it was.

“You told me you can’t help me,” She continued, eyes scouring the trees across the river. “So you don’t get to be upset with how things do play out. Go ahead and relay that message, floaty-snake-grave-robber. Let her know I don’t want to hear it.”

The interesting part was, though she didn’t see the shinidamachu anywhere, Kagome didn’t even feel ridiculous talking to herself at this point. There was still the possibility it was there, listening, and she’d said what she said.

Kagome gave a small, defeated shake of her head as her attention fell back to her blurred reflection. After a moment of trying to make out her features, she gave up. It didn’t much matter what she looked like; there was nothing she could do about it. So, she went off of how she felt. Her skin was a little oily, and it wouldn’t hurt any to freshen up. In fact, it would probably aid in revitalizing energy. A cool splash of water always helped.

Quickly, she went back over to her bag, seeking out the tie for her hair and pulling it back in a ponytail at the nape of her neck. Kagome yanked the sleeves of her shirt up as high as they would go, kneeling at the bank of the river and leaning forward. Cupping her hands, she dunked them into the cold water, bringing a generous amount up to run over her face. Over and over, Kagome repeated this, rinsing the oils from her skin, the dirt, the soot, the sweat. The chilling liquid dripped down her chin and neck, over her chest and into her shirt, drenching the top hem at her breasts but she didn’t care. It felt too refreshing to stop in time to prevent the dampening of her clothes.

Kagome slowed, making sure not to abruptly stop her movements in an obvious manner, but a twinge in her senses made it difficult. She was being watched. She’d caught that subtle, spine-tingling feeling that traveled down her back like the legs of an unwelcome spider. For a moment, she wanted to write it off as the shinidamachu, but Kagome had a gut feeling the serpent was undetectable. It wasn’t a demon, and it wasn’t an earth-bound creature. Frankly, she didn’t know its origins, but this was Kikyo. She kept a low profile, appeared to be a lone wolf sort of girl, and the last thing she’d do was use something obvious that anyone could trace back to her. No, these were eyes on Kagome. Eyes that refused to blink, eyes that violated boundaries.

She could feel demonic energy. Two maybe. One for sure. They weren’t approaching, though. Kagome didn’t feel their presence getting stronger; it was just there. Stable. There was distance dividing them. Were they literally just watching her? Maybe they were passing through, saw her washing up, and thought they’d get lucky enough to watch her strip down and bathe.

It took effort to bite back her groan as she rolled her eyes. Men.

It would be wise of her to get going. Lingering with them looming around was text book for trouble.

“Well, well, well. If it isn’t the mischief-maker, Inuyasha.”

“Oh god, is that what you guys are calling me?” The hanyou grimaced, turning to face the two idiots behind him. They’d been following him for a while now, so he was unsurprised when they finally popped out. It was honestly about fucking time. He was getting ready to expose them, himself.

“Among the other names we’ve given you.”

“Are they as creative as ‘mischief-maker’? I feel like I’ve earned myself a little more of a reputable nickname than that.” Inuyasha dully stated.

“How about, half-breed bastard?”

“A little better.”

“How about, dead?” The other suggested.

“Now, see, you lost me with that one. It doesn’t make sense. I don’t think you’re grasping the concept of nicknames; they’ve gotta be relevant.” Inuyasha pointed, giving the demon a wry grin.

“Believe me, it’ll be relevant by the time we’re done with you.”

“Can you at least let me know who the fuck you are first? Manners, boys. Manners.” He clicked his tongue. Steadily, Inuyasha’s hand found the hilt of his sword, not yet unsheathing it, but firmly grasping in preparation. He’d honestly never seen these guys in his life, but they looked like bandits. Acted like bandits. Smelled like bandits. The scent of unmaintained body odor, sweat, dirt, their own semen staining their clothing because they’ve only got their hands to do the trick, and the meal they ate the night before. Inuyasha crinkled his poor nose. Yeah, definitely bandits.

“Remember Gatenmaru and Garamaru?”

“I’m sorry, are those foods or something?” The hanyou inquired, confused.

“He’s playing dumb; don’t take the bait. He just wants to piss us off.” One said to the other, both of which appearing quite peeved for trying to ignore his question.

“I’m serious. I have no idea what you’re talking about.”

“Gatenmaru and Garamaru!”

“Wow. Now that you’ve said it a second time, it’s all coming back to me.” He stated sarcastically.

“They’re moth demons! Bandit leaders! You killed -“

“Oh!” Inuyasha loudly exclaimed, a light flicking on in his mind. “Those two brothers that liked to collect women. Yeah, they’re dead.”

“We know. We’re here to avenge them.” One growled.

The hanyou snorted some, his smirk only growing. “Seriously? It’s been months.”

“Doesn’t matter how long it’s been, you bastard! This has just given us ample timing to join forces and devise a plan.”

“Join forces?”

“Yes.”

“Like, one bitch boy’s bandits working with the other’s?”

“Yes.” The demon seethed, hating the disrespectful remark but forcing himself not to comment on it and stay on topic.

“Hey, you guys remember they hated each other right?”

“What?”

“Yeah.”

“No, they didn’t.”

“Which one did you work for?”

“Garamaru.”

“Yeah, he hated Gatenmaru for working with humans. And, now you’re working with humans.” Again, Inuyasha clicked his tongue in mocking disappointment. “What would Garamaru say?”

The two demon bandits looked at one another bemusedly and seemingly at a loss for words. He could see it on their faces; they were realizing he was right and most likely remembered the way Garamaru talked shit about his brother. Inuyasha was in his presence for all of twenty minutes and heard it all, so it was impossible that the bandits beneath him wouldn’t have. The bothers lived life apart, refusing to acknowledge the other’s existence, but ironically enough, they died together. Metaphorically speaking, of course. They committed identical crimes, and were charged as two wanted entities in one package. From the reward he’d collected from that job alone, Inuyasha still had plenty of money left over.

“Too late now.” One shrugged. “So, I guess it doesn’t really matter. You murdered both of them and fucked us all over by doing so. A lot of people want your head.”

“What, because you were solely co-dependent on a cheap demon? How is that my problem?”

“Because -“

“Rhetorical.” Inuyasha held up a hand to stop them from talking. “I don’t actually care. In fact, you should be thanking me. None of you are forced to call your masters ‘daddy’ while being used as a cock sleeve anymore.”

“Why you son of a -“

“Careful now.” The half demon smiled, arching a brow. Steadily, he pulled Tessaiga from its sheath, the sword transforming into its large and powerful state as each inch was freed. “You act too hastily and you wont be able to fight alongside your makeshift army. Then all your months of hard work will be down the drain. Wouldn’t want that, now would we?”

“Figured it out, have you?” A demon smirked.

“Aside from the fact that you told me already, yeah. I can smell them all getting closer. Some are still lingering far away, waiting for a signal I presume. Were you trying to plan a surprise attack?”

“Surprise or not, we didn’t much care. We knew you had some demon in you, so it’d be difficult to actually sneak up. But, we did know the best option was to overwhelm you.”

“Because, you’ve got quite the number on your side.” Inuyasha added, really taking in the scent of all he was up against. It wasn’t just a dozen or two. It was more like seven or eight. There was no fucking way all these men worked for Garamaru and Gatenmaru. The two brothers were a lower tier of demon. They weren’t wealthy, weren’t necessarily powerful, and their biggest skill was deception. Gatenmaru took full advantage of his human dependents, manipulating them, even scaring some into loyalty. It didn’t take a genius to determine that both demons made big promises to their groups; promises they didn’t get the opportunity to cheat their way out of. Therefore, leading to the bandits feeling robbed and blaming Inuyasha. So, who made up the rest of their army?

“You’ve got a sharp nose.”

“Who are the extras?”

“Like we said, we’ve joined forces.”

The hanyou shook his head in disbelief. “This is just the combination of Gatenmaru’s and Garamaru’s men? No one else?”

“No one else.”

“Seriously?”

“Garamaru had a huge following. I’m sure you didn’t know that.” The two goons looked a little too proud, but he couldn’t much blame them. They really succeeded in throwing him for a loop.

“Wow. Ho-ly shit.” Inuyasha remarked, pursing his lips. He was strong, but he was also one man. One man against about a hundred. This should be interesting.

Kagome pulled the tie from her hair, shoving it into her pocket while she continued walking, her raven waves freely flowing around her shoulders. She was growing irritated now, her huffs clenched in the back of her throat. The two demons were following her, their auras growing stronger as they stuck close so they wouldn’t lose her. Yet, they never came out of hiding. She was hoping she would have lost them at the river, but they’d been following her for over thirty minutes now, and Kagome was over it. At one point, she’d gotten so distracted by their presence that she’d mindlessly found herself on the trail she’d come from, walking in the direction she’d left Inuyasha in for who knows how long.

Would it be picking a fight if she called them out? Would she be asking for trouble if she didn’t continue to ignore it, or would she just be considered proactive? With their incessant stalking, Kagome was convinced they were bound to make an appearance sooner or later. Sooner rather than later would be favorable, though.

Her bow was still held tight in her hand, and she twitched her finger along the wood of the arch in debate. Should she raise it and instigate, or should she wait?

The choice was taken from her as she heard some rustling in a bush from behind. Kagome turned around to see the two demons sauntering forward, smiles worn on their aged faces. Actively, she showed no sign of disturbance, merely watching them with curious eyes.

“Hello, wench.”

She hated being called that by sleazy, unwashed men. It felt more like they were referring to her as a sex object rather than a woman.

“Hello.” Kagome greeted semi-pleasantly.

“What’s a girl like you wandering the woods alone for? Don’t ya know you could get lost?”

“Oh, no need to worry.” She played off, her tone sweet as she waved away the fake concern they presented. “I know my way around these parts. I was just actually running an errand, and now I’m on my way home.”

“What kind of errand?”

“My grandma makes fruit baskets. I was out delivering one for her.”

“I’ve never known the fruit basket industry to be very dangerous.” One called her bluff, gesturing to the bow in her hands and the arrows on her shoulder.

“Oh, this? You’re right, it’s not. I carry it just in case anything out of the norm ever arises. For instance, two strange men follow me in the woods for over a mile and start harassing me. Wouldn’t want to be defenseless.” She replied, appearing unfazed.

The two chuckled, their teeth sharp and stained. “Knew we were there, did you?”

“Your smell gave you away.” She slighted.

“So did yours. See, we’re on our way to see someone who we happen to know you’re in cahoots with. Figure you might want to join in on the happy, little reunion we’re about to have.”

“What are you talking about?”

“Our good, old friend, Inuyasha.”

“Who?” Crap. Crap, crap, crap. What sort of mess was she involved in now? That no good, dog-eared, ruffian, middle-aged-man-colored-hair, jerk. She’s in his presence for a day and she’s got men tracing her thanks to their obvious bad blood.

Kagome’s poker face held steady while she swallowed her annoyance, brown eyes shifting back and forth to the demons standing just before her with an arm and a half’s length to spare. She’d take a step back, but she’d already tried that. They were persistent in keeping her within reach, and merely closed the gap she’d created.

“Don’t play coy. You’ve got his scent all over you.” One grumbled.

That’s right. Of course, she did. That’s how they must have found her in the first place. He’d covered her in that red cloth last night while she slept, so it was only natural that his scent would linger. And, be identifiable by those with sharper senses. What she couldn’t detect, the smell so subtle, they would with ease.

That didn’t mean she was about to go easily.

“All over… What smell?”

“The smell of a half demon.”

“Hm.” Kagome hummed, acting intrigued. “Does it smell nice?”

“What?”

“Do I smell nice?”

“No!”

“What a rude thing to say.” She criticized, appalled and shrinking back dramatically. It was a feeble attempt to create space, and thankfully, this time, they didn’t think to close it again, falling for her dramatics. “To a lady, no less!”

“You ain’t no lady.”

“Oh? What am I, then?”

“A half-breed’s whore. Which makes you filth.” The smile the humanoid demon wore was wide and proud, gleaming with the afterglow of his insult.

Kagome couldn’t even attempt to hide her expression then. The corners of her mouth grew into a grin, eyes dropping to the ground, her head following suit as she shrugged her brows in contempt. The smallest chuckle escaped her teeth before she inhaled and looked back up at the men. She ran her fingers through her hair, not caring how her bangs may have ruffled messily when she pushed them from her face, and slowly, carefully, but also daringly, Kagome’s fingers raked down the length of her waves until they met the nock of one of her arrows.

“Wow. Charming.” She said, pulling the arrow from its quiver. Naturally, the demons took her as no threat. Much like every demon she’d ever faced, all they saw was a young girl with a weapon that would merely leave a flesh wound on them if it actually managed to hit. This worked in Kagome’s favor. They could laugh all they wanted, mock her, point and guffaw, because that just meant they weren’t lunging to stop her.

“So, this Inuyasha guy,” Kagome spoke as their amusement began to subside. She hardly watched them, her attention minding their feet as she took her time aligning the nock with the string of her bow. The shaft of the arrow lightly tapped the grip above her hand while she got her fingers situated, knuckles clutching the nock just right. “What’d he do?”

“He messed with the wrong crowd, that’s what.” The one on her left stated, his tone telling her the smile still remained on his ugly face.

She finally glanced up, her weapon still held low. “Yeah, but what did he do?”

“He killed our leader, wench.” The one on her right said, and she could tell he was the more serious of the two.

“Ah, gotcha.” She nodded, sucking in her bottom lip. Must have been another bounty. Which meant Inuyasha was only doing his job and bringing down someone with proper justification. Of course, this was a guess, but it was an educated one. With the way the men before her looked and acted, they were up to no good and so their leader had to have been worse. She felt a little bad for mentally jumping on Inuyasha the way she initially had when she’d found out this was about him. Chances are, he didn’t know they’d be out for blood, and he definitely couldn’t have guessed that they’d involve her after one night’s encounter. “What’s that got to do with me, though?”

“Jesus, do we need to spell everything out for you? Are you stupid?”

“Quite the contrary. A stupid person wouldn’t have known you were following them since the river, wouldn’t have held a straight face while they lied, and wouldn’t have already figured out that your boss probably deserved to die without you having to tell me who they were or what they’d done.” She replied, stepping her right leg back as she leveled her weapon at them, the feather at the end of her arrow grazing her cheekbone lightly. “Yeah, I know who Inuyasha is, but your assumption is all wrong. I just met him yesterday, so nothing’s on a personal level. So, go ahead. Tell me what this has to do with me.”

“You’re one bold bitch.” The one on her left snarled, spittle flying out with his enunciation of the slur. “We’re going to use you against him. As we speak, he’s being attacked by our forces. We outnumber him greatly, so our victory is a given, but the motherfucker fights dirty with that sword of his. Bringing you along, using you as our pretty, little hostage will get him to forfeit, and make his death much quicker and easier.”

Kagome scrunched her nose, shaking her head as she hummed a negate. “Nope. Sorry, bud. That wouldn’t work at all. All I did was annoy the guy. The majority of the time I was with him, he had me tied up and held as his own hostage. Like I said, you’ve got it wrong; we aren’t friends.”

“I think we’ll take our chances.” The one on the right growled.

“Not interested. Being held hostage once is enough for me, thanks.” She pulled the arrow back another centimeter, pointing it at him to prevent him from taking a step forward.

“The fuck do you think you’re even gonna do with that?”

“Shoot you.” Her tone was calm, steady, the residing scratch in it temporarily abating as she kept her voice low.

“And, then what? You should know that it would hardly leave a scratch, and the only reason you’d be able to hit us in the first place is because we’re within five feet of you. We oughta kill you right here, right now for thinking you stand a chance. Who the fuck are you to raise a bow to us?” The demon on her left spoke, taking a large, threatening step inward, almost lunging. Kagome acted. It was a matter of time before something would happen, and she’d been counting down the seconds. The last thing she could afford to do right now was allow them to touch her. They do that, and she loses. They meant business, and she understood from the moment they stepped out of the bushes that they weren’t going to just let her walk away.

A rush of energy bubbled to the surface of her core, expanding outward and gravitating toward the head of her arrow. She could see her own power shining around the sharp edges, the shaft, the feathers, glowing lavender where she focused her strength. In one quick move, Kagome redirected her aim and released her arrow, the head plunging into the demon’s chest and disintegrating his body before he even had a chance to stumble backward. Her hand reached behind and grasped another arrow without missing a beat, aligning the nock with the string as she pulled it back and aimed at the demon to her right.

He was stunned, red eyes wide and angered. His lips, thin and cracked, were held open, choked sounds escaping his throat as he processed what had just happened.

“What’s the matter?” Kagome asked, claiming his attention once more. “Never met a conjurer before?”

“You wench! I’m going to fucking kill you! No, better,” He grinned viciously. “I’ll hand deliver you to Naraku and watch him rip your head off!”

“No, you won’t.” She said clearly. The threat didn’t faze her. His words were empty, and even if they weren’t, she wasn’t about to let him come near her. “You aren’t going to touch me. What you are going to do is tell me about this attack on Inuyasha. Your buddy said you outnumbered him. By how much?”

“Fuck off, bitch!”

“Try again.”

“Suck my dick!”

“You won’t have one for long if you keep this up.” Kagome swore, arching a brow and lowering her aim a few inches.

“You won’t do shit to me!”

“Won’t I? You saw what I just did to your friend.”

“I’m much stronger than he was.” He growled, hands furled into fists as he lowered slightly, almost in a crouch to leap at her.

Kagome made a loud warning sound, her knuckles tightening around the notch of her arrow as she pulled it back slightly. “Don’t. Move. You’ve never met someone like me, so let me give you fair warning as to what I can do to you, exactly. I can make it quick, which I’ve already demonstrated. I can make it slow, which you don’t want. Believe me. Or, I can use just enough power to torture you from the inside out. It’ll be extremely painful, and you’ll be begging for death. That’s a relief I won’t give to you until you answer me, though. So, which will it be? I’d choose wisely if I were you.”

“What the fuck do you want!? An exact number!?”

“You got one?”

“No, you fucking cunt!”

“Give me a guess. Are we talking ten? Twenty?”

“Hah! Yeah, right! More like eighty or ninety!”

Kagome’s brows twitched inward, lips curving in dismay. “That’s a bit excessive to take on one man, don’t you think?”

“Inuyasha not only killed our leader, but his brother as well, leaving both of their packs of men with nothing. Instead of going on with our lives and starting over, we decided to band together to get revenge first. Gatenmaru sickeningly worked exclusively with human bandits, and his reasonings were unknown to us, but be that as it may, they still had a healthy number of skilled fighters with the same thirst for vengeance. Not as much as we, the demons under Garamaru had. Garamaru was a powerful moth demon, one with a large and dedicated following. The vast majority of our forces come from my group and we’ll undoubtedly prove to be lethal against that half breed.”

“Wow. Inuyasha seriously pissed off almost a hundred people in one go? Not gonna lie, it’s a little impressive. Where’s this happening?”

“What do you care if you aren’t friends? You gonna try to save him or something? You’re not leaving this spot alive, and even if you manage to, he’ll be dead by the time you get there.”

“You’ve got a lot of confidence for looking the way you do, pal.”

“What did you -“

“I may not know Inuyasha well, but I’ve got a huge feeling the worst thing your guys will manage to do to him is leave a scratch or two. You’re the one who won’t be around to see it out.”

“No wonder Naraku wants your lot dead! You’re a sick, twisted cunt! I’ve heard your kind is supposed to be peaceful and pure, and here you are threatening to kill me.”

“Oh, shut it!” Kagome barked, growing fed up. Her body was warm, tingling, her spiritual power laying just beneath the surface as she kept the flames fanned and strong. She was righteous, and mad, and as the seconds ticked by, staring into the eyes of a monster who vowed not only to kill her but Inuyasha, her fingers began to shake. It wasn’t of trepidation. No. It was because her might continued to build. While she felt completely in control, she’d also never felt so powerful. “The only sick and twisted one is Naraku! You want to validate his bloodlust while you were just saying you were going to kill me, too? Nice double standards, creep. Take a look at the world we’re living in. There’s no such thing as peace and purity anymore. People are constantly living in fear, hiding away, there’s division, judgement, brutality, and an outrageous amount of darkness. In order to survive, you have to be adaptable, right? Killing you won’t take anything from me, I can guarantee it.”

He smiled sinisterly, licking his fangs. “If you’re as adaptable as you say, find the hanyou by your goddamn self then.”

“Fine. I will.” Kagome said, releasing her arrow. The demon stood no chance in dodging, succumbing to her power and crumbling to a pile of ash.

She turned on her heel then, running down the path she’d been on, the path she’d traveled down since she’d left Inuyasha’s side that morning. He went in the opposite direction, she could only guess. So, she hoped that if she just kept running, she’d eventually feel his aura and be able to use that as her guide.

A part of her questioned why it felt so imperative she run to him. Because, it did. He was part demon; he could handle his own. Against eighty or ninety, she wasn’t sure, but that’s where his demonic sword came to play. Right? Who had ever been up against such a large number and lived to tell about it, though? Perhaps that was it. It had to be. It was unnaturally unfair, and even if he didn’t actually need her help, she couldn’t swallow the lump in her throat caused by her concern. She had to see for herself. She had to see him walk away. She needed to make sure Inuyasha lived.

They weren’t kidding when they’d mentioned their goal was to overwhelm Inuyasha. Had they been watching him from afar? Studying him? His techniques? Tessaiga, if used right, could demolish a hundred demons in one swing. The thing was, he had to actually be able to swing the fucking sword.

He’d gotten one good wind scar in before they closed in on him, making it damn near impossible to use it again. With how close they were, Inuyasha was only able to block with his blade, occasionally slicing someone down, basically reducing the Tessaiga to nothing more than a standard sword. He needed room to attack. He needed space to thrust the blade and conjure a pernicious assault. But, it was all he could do just to defend himself at the moment.

There were too fucking many, and Inuyasha was getting more pissed by the second. Tessaiga wasn’t light by any means, but with his adrenaline levels kicking, he used it to block weapons with one hand while slashing bandits with the sharp claws of his other. He’d grab them by their throats and shove them away, usually into others so multiple fell back at a time. Inuyasha realized that he was subconsciously doing anything he could to create space. He was too reliant on Tessaiga’s power, and it was only holding him back. It was going to be his downfall if he didn’t think of something else.

Kagome had to stop. She had no choice. Her lungs were burning, aching for air, her legs begging for rest, and she clung to the bark of a tree as she tried to calm herself through her body’s frantic attempt at supplying itself with oxygen. Sweat was dripping down the sides of her face, over the bridge of her nose, tickling on its path down, and even getting her arm to cooperate to use her sleeve to wipe the moisture on her brow away was difficult. She was trembling, and she didn’t know why.

Maybe she’d gotten too far into her head, scaring herself into thinking Inuyasha wasn’t going to be okay. Maybe her brain registered the sprinting she’d been doing as a sign to secrete epinephrine to keep her going, maybe even releasing a little too much. Kagome felt so hot, and she couldn’t tell if it was from her spiritual power or the fact that she’d been running for who knows how long now. She wanted to say it was the latter - it made perfect sense - but she could feel her abilities just ready to spring free, so it really could have been both at play. Maybe that was why she quaked. Or, the incredible amount of demonic energy she felt from ahead was the cause. She’d been following it for a while, and it had become sickening.

It took moments, moments that consumed too much time on their own, until the rise and fall of her chest slowed to a more manageable rate. Her heart was thumping behind her ribcage, each pound felt and reverberating through her entire torso, but the blood being pumped no longer drowned through her ears. Now, what she heard were shouts and battle cries, curses and death threats, and the clashing sound of metal smacking metal. No wonder the energy was dense with malevolence. Kagome was closer than she’d thought. She was close to Inuyasha and a heavy, unwelcome feeling sank into her abdomen.

Mindful to stay alert just in case, Kagome pushed forward, her boots hitting the dirt as she ran in the direction her senses pulled her in, in the direction of the fight.

Tessaiga was knocked from Inuyasha’s hand, de-transforming the instant it hit the ground. Fuck. This was bad. He dipped the fingers of his right hand into the cut on his left shoulder, making the wound bigger in the act but that was irrelevant. Inuyasha made sure his claws were doused before swiping at the bandits, blades forming from his blood to kill the bastards that leapt at him.

There were too many. It didn’t matter if they were weak on their own, didn’t matter if they were insignificant in size. There were too damn many at once. It was like a swarm of ants taking down a bee. Alone, they were negligible. Together, they were dangerous.

Inuyasha had taken down a good portion, but he was growing tired and they just kept coming at him. He had good hand-to-hand combat skills, but they had weapons to one-up him. He was good at dodging, but there wasn’t much space to do so. He was bleeding, drenched in sweat, breathing erratically and trying not to let it show to avoid letting his enemies know he was weakening. Despite his disposition, it was impossible to miss the burning sensation within his chest. Not one of his lungs pleading for a break, but one of the blood within his veins. His demonic blood.

He was in mortal danger; he knew, his body knew, and his mind knew. The chemicals that made up Inuyasha were revving into high gear, and no matter how many times he swallowed, no matter how many times he willed the call to subside, no matter how many times he stepped away or pushed them back to make it seem like he had the high ground, there was no calming his instincts. His demonic blood was much like adrenaline, but more potent. Adrenaline was fight or flight, do whatever you must to survive. Inuyasha’s demonic half was fight or kill, and it usually opted for the extremes.

He needed to get back to Tessaiga. He needed the hilt in his hands. The sword, the demonic source within it, helped keep his own demonic side at bay. It gave him security to subside his nature, it provided a sheath to conceal the evil he couldn’t control. Willingly, he stepped back, keeping his golden eyes on the men ambushing him while making it seem like they were pushing him. He knew where his sword had fallen, so he stepped in that direction, punching, swiping his claws, and dodging blades all the way. He’d fallen short though, someone blocking his path. Without knowing, he’d been backed against a steep hill, and the back of his heel hit the slope, making him fall.

Kagome peeked around the edge of a tree trunk to spot a man several feet before her in waiting, watching the scene from the thickets. It was difficult to tell if there were any others in the same vicinity; her senses were a jumbled mess with how horridly thick the air was. It would be impossible to sneak around him, and given the circumstances, Kagome didn’t have time to find an alternate route. As quietly as she possibly could, she stole an arrow from her quiver to align the nock with the string of her bow. It was hard enough to keep her heavy breathing silent, forcing her lungs to take slow and steady inhales through her nostrils no matter how much they demanded quick-paced air supply. The last thing she wanted was him hearing and jumping on her, or even alerting others nearby of her attendance.

It was a low move to kill from behind, to deny another the opportunity to defend themselves, but Kagome didn’t have a choice. Even if she intentionally alerted him of her presence, she would only release her arrow the moment he spun to face her. It didn’t matter right now. He was bad, he was one of the people threatening Inuyasha, and therefore, he had to go. Kagome pulled her arrow back incrementally to prevent the creak in her bow, and the moment she had enough tension built, she let go, the spiritual power she’d attached to her weapon obliterating her target the moment it hit.

She stole his place then, running forward to spot the disastrous scene ahead. From her angle, she could see the side of Inuyasha as he was pushed back against the incline of the small hill, stumbling down onto his bottom and forced to block, roll to dodge, and kick troops away from him. He was unarmed. His life was in danger.

It was like something took control of Kagome then. There was no time to think, so she didn’t. There was no time to tell her body how to act, so she let it do it on its own. There was no time to try to understand the sensation that coursed beneath her skin, so she didn’t bother, allowing it to consume her entirely. Over and over, all she could hear from within was the shout, the urge, the absolute demand to save Inuyasha. It was her own voice, and it was loud, clear, strong, and authoritative in its will as it declared “He won’t die!”

Kagome ran from her spot, following the curve in the mound as she raced to get to the area above where Inuyasha was trapped. Along the way, she prepared an arrow against her bow, her weapon at the ready until she came to a break in the trees. So many were attacking the hanyou below her, so many were furious with how he kept managing to fight them off, surviving when they so badly wanted him dead. The atmosphere was riddled with horrible, intense energy, and it just kept getting worse. Her stomach was leadened, a mass clumped in the very center of Kagome’s throat, and she wondered if it was the result of all the catastrophic vitality, or if there was something else. Something worse.

Inuyasha’s yell, his growl, the sound released from his throat - one of pain - brought Kagome’s attention right back where it belonged. Nothing else mattered. There was no discovery that needed to be had; nothing needed an explanation right now. Her anger, determination, empowered the heat within her veins. Once again, she could feel her heart pounding against her chest, seemingly growing heavier by the second, especially as she raised her bow and pulled her arrow back to graze the side of her cheek. For the moment, she held her breath. A rush of power flooded over every inch of her flesh, tingling, prickling, but she stood steady. Her instincts took over, and she didn’t aim at one single combatant. No, she aimed as if her arrow was about to sweep the field and erase every villain from sight. Pulling the string back another inch, making it incredibly taught, she waited just one more moment, giving ample time for her power to saturate. With an exhale, Kagome released, the light she created, the evidence of her power that only she could see, flying outward as the head of her arrow sliced through the current of air, purifying the evil, killing Inuyasha’s enemies, and freeing him from his perilous assault.

Inuyasha was about ready to give up the fight against his demonic side. He couldn’t reach his sword, and his left arm was bleeding heavily, the pain of his wounds only assisting the energetic approach of the half of him he had little-to-no control over. The bandits were infuriatingly relentless, and though his plan was to wipe them out either way, his demon side left no room for survivors. Those who waved their white flag and ran for safety wouldn’t be able to get away, and that was the unforgiving part that Inuyasha fought back. It was brutality at its core, and he fucking despised it, but if it was the only way he was bound to survive, then fuck this shit.

His body was burning, his fingers shaking, and his growls were growing deeper. His kicks were becoming stronger, and a voice in his ear told him to use his claws to rip their tracheas out. Inuyasha threw in the towel, releasing whatever control he had remaining, his instincts sharpening even though everything was going dark. He, his true self, wouldn’t be conscious for what was about to happen.

Just before he slipped, a shift in the atmosphere slowed everything down. Something whizzed by, the sound effect loud in his ears as it shot through the field, a formidable shock clearing the offenders all around. All of a sudden, Inuyasha’s attack had completely halted. There was no one in front of him, at his sides, in the distance, coming forward. He’d watched them all decompose before his eyes, from nearest to furthest as the arrow pierced the ground at an angle quite a ways ahead. No longer did he feel weighted with the horrible shift of his indocile half. It had suppressed, and not even he had felt the clean dissipation of its need for bloodshed.

What the fuck just happened?

He’d never seen this before. The only time he’d ever witnessed a field wiped clean was with incredibly powerful attacks only demons were capable of, and even that was a rare occurrence. This wasn’t the result of a demon, though. No. It was light and relieving. It was strong and just. It was purifying. Inuyasha had only ever heard of this sort of thing; he never thought he’d actually be present in this sort of circumstance. This had to be…

This had to be the work of a conjurer.

Quickly, the hanyou twisted around in his seat to see who’d invoked such incredible magic. A woman stood directly above him at the top of the incline, her black hair long and wavy, bangs curling and sticking to her forehead and temples from the sweat that dripped down her face and from her chin, dotting her chest that rose and fell with her heavy breaths. Her bow was still raised, the hand that’d released the arrow hovering beside her head as if she’d let it go a split second ago. Her eyes, deep with courage and perseverance, were aimed ahead of her, over his head, staring at the arrow she’d stabbed the earth with, and her pink lips sat parted, opened for the air her lungs pleaded for. Inuyasha could see it on her face. He could see her processing what had just happened, where she was, what she’d produced as her brows relaxed, her expression shifting into one of shock. Her arms progressively lowered, eyes darting around the now-empty premises before landing on him just as he spoke.

“Kagome?”

What had she done? How had she done it? The revelation of her capabilities was both astonishing and frightening. Never in her life had she generated so much spiritual power, and she wondered if she’d always been able to do something this amazing or if it only came forth because of her pressing fear that Inuyasha was going to be killed. Seconds later, it all came crashing down, short-lived. Screw wonderment and disbelief. Kagome had just committed a conjurer’s act in front of someone; an incredibly strong demonstration of what she could do, at that. No one was ever supposed to see that sort of thing. Not unless they were well-trusted, or were on the other end of her attack. There was no way around it, she understood this, but that didn’t keep the guilt and panic from sinking deep into her core. She’d simultaneously succeeded and fucked up. Big time.

Kagome stared at the awe-struck half demon, still on the ground, amber eyes wide as they gazed up at her. She needed to leave while he was frozen. She saved his life, and that was all she’d come to do. For all she knew, he could turn on her at any second. He may not be on Naraku’s side, but that didn’t mean conjurer’s didn’t have a bad reputation as it stood. It was why they went through so many titles through the decades; it was the spun tales of the ignorant who didn’t understand. He could kill her. He could turn her in. He could do a dozen things that Kagome couldn’t even begin to fathom right now. This was what she’d learned to fear; an outsider finding out what she was. Suddenly, she felt so terrified of the circumstances at hand that she felt painfully nauseous. Her legs felt wobbly, her fingers were trembling, a flash of warmth rode over her flesh, and it seemed she’d begun perspiring even more than before. Kagome hadn’t thought as far ahead as she wished she had. Her plan stopped at saving Inuyasha when it should have stopped at staying hidden so he’d never turn around to see her.

She swallowed thickly to push down her sickness, stepping back and stiffening her muscles to force them to cooperate properly. Inuyasha didn’t move, and with each step backward she took, she sent out silent gratitude. But, she stopped, a heavy and menacing aura approaching from the far right tree line.

There were more.

Kagome hadn’t pieced together that if one man was standing on the sidelines watching, waiting, there were most definitely more planning on eventually jumping out. There were more men, there was more evil, coming forward. Had they seen? Did they know, too? She had to go. No more slow movements; they needed to get the hell out of there. Separately.

“Th-there’s more.” She spoke brokenly. “Inuyasha, get up. There’s more. You need to go.”

The hanyou spun around to face the exact direction she felt them coming from. His ears twitched, swiveling, no doubt hearing them as he hastily lunged to the side for his sword. Kagome took the opportunity then to take off, spinning around on her heel without saying another word and sprinting as fast as she could.

Inuyasha grabbed Tessaiga and pushed to his feet in the same motion. He had no plans to stick around for another ambush. Fuck that. Not with his condition. But, as he turned around to tell Kagome to run, she was already gone. He didn’t have to question why, it was written all over her face. She wasn’t just running from the incoming attack, Kagome was running from him.

“Wait! Kagome!” He called, thrusting Tessaiga back into its sheath just as the next wave of bandits appeared, charging forward. Inuyasha pushed himself up the incline, catching her scent and racing after it to catch up. Better than anyone, he understood why she took off. He could help, though. Chances were, the bandits had seen, and he needed to get her far away from here. He wasn’t going to let them have her. “Stop!”

Kagome tried to run faster, her throat and lungs burning, her muscles aching, but she fought through it, pleading with her body to help her get away. It felt like she was weakening, slowing, and Kagome took to outwardly begging for her legs to keep going, repeating “please” over and over until tears burned at her eyes. She was so ungodly scared of what could happen, everything seeming so deleterious and life-threatening at that moment.

The heavy thump of footsteps were behind her, closing in, and Kagome barely had an opportunity to push herself passed her limits before a large, hot hand closed around her wrists, pulling her to slow but then jerking her in a different direction just as she inadvertently yelped, almost making her choke when she gasped at the same time. Inuyasha held onto her tightly, his grip almost bruising while he ran directly in front of her, guiding her, and then abruptly, he stopped, pushing Kagome flat against a tree and pressing his body against hers.

His calloused hand covered her mouth, glowing eyes meeting her own. They were inches apart, the rise and fall of his chest pressing against her own, clashing with the rhythm her lungs held. Kagome didn’t know what was going on or what he was doing, but just as she tried to push him away from her, Inuyasha pressed further inward, his hold on her mouth firming.

She felt it then, the incoming swarm of people. Kagome could hear their thudding footsteps hurdling their way, and immediately she stopped fighting the hanyou, her fingers clutching onto the fabric of his black shirt, quaking, keeping him on top of her. Her nausea never subsided, only growing worse with each passing moment, and she swallowed profusely, over and over, willing her stomach to calm but it wouldn’t listen. She held her breath as he pushed impossibly closer, and she shut her eyes tight. Inuyasha’s face was directly next to her own, his head bent slightly to match her height. She could feel his sweat drip onto her clavicle, his hot breath on her ear before he sucked in and held it at the very moment the assailants closed in and raced right by them.

Each beat of their boots on the earth had Kagome’s heart thrusting against her ribcage painfully. She never released her hold on Inuyasha, her searing tears gliding over her cheeks and then pooling at the top of his hand, spilling over his fingers. She counted the seconds that passed, allowing herself to breathe but only very, very steadily so that she could continue to swallow and push down the bile that felt to be rising through her esophagus.

Gradually, it grew quiet. Inuyasha let it sit for a moment, thankful the majority of those that passed seemed to be human. The demons, these kinds at least, didn’t appear to have sharp senses. That, or they didn’t rely on them like the wiser did, bringing them to completely miss the two they ran right past. No one stopped, no one realized they were there, and even afterward, which was what he was waiting for, no one turned around.

He eased off of Kagome, though he kept his hand on her mouth. She was terrified, shaking against him, and the last thing he wanted her to do was yell or scream. As he gave her space, Inuyasha glanced down at her, watching her brown eyes blink open. She returned his stare, and she seemed to be calming, but it shifted so quickly when her eyes widened and the hands she’d braced against his chest released his shirt to frantically push him away. He sensed her panic, saw her panic, and the hanyou released her and jumped back just as Kagome folded forward and vomited.

The girl was choking on her sobs, trembling, and she dropped to her hands and knees as her stomach heaved. She’d felt burning hot when his cheek was to her temple, but he hadn’t thought anything of it. There was no time. There still wasn’t. They were sitting ducks and he needed to get her out of here. Before that, Kagome needed to get this out of her system. Calmly, Inuyasha knelt beside her, moving cautiously when she flinched to pull her hair behind her shoulders and hold it out of her way. He slipped his palm beneath her bag, rubbing her back slowly, soothingly. Her whole body was racked with hiccups and quakes, her flesh scalding even through her shirt and bodice. What the fuck had happened to her?

“Please - please don’t…” Were the only words she managed to cry out. She’d finished puking; it had been minutes since her stomach clenched violently, but she was a defeated, sickened mess.

“Please don’t, what?” Inuyasha asked, mindfully keeping his tone quiet. She sobbed hard, wiping her mouth with her sleeve and sitting back on her legs where he released her hair. He’d caught a peek at her paled face before she shook her head and looked away from him, unable to speak clearly so she didn’t even try. She was scared and weak, and he knew, he just fucking knew that this all had to do with who she was. He had very limited knowledge on conjurers, but even when he pinned her yesterday she didn’t look nearly this afraid. Her secret was still safe then.

“Kagome, I’m not going to hurt you. Look at me.” Inuyasha waited a moment for her to respond, pulling his hand from her back. When she made no motion to comply, he gently grabbed her forearm but took a more serious tone when he repeated himself. “Look at me.”

Slowly, she shifted his way, holding her sleeve in front of her mouth. He couldn’t tell if it was an anxious quirk or if she didn’t want to take chances of him seeing any of her illness she may have missed cleaning. He could comprehend both. At this point though, it wasn’t important. He reached over and pushed the hand away, gesturing to her that she had nothing to worry about. And, she didn’t. She was clean. But, she seemed even paler, and he was sincerely concerned. Her eyes, though bloodshot, were large, sad, and swollen. Her lips were curved in a quivering frown, and her cheeks were clammy with sweat.

“I am not going to hurt you. I swear. You’re safe, Kagome. We need to get going so we can keep it that way, though.” He pushed the straps of his bag off of his shoulders, discarding it to the side. “Come on, get on my back.”

“What?” Kagome mouthed, her voice failing her in her state. She didn’t know how to read Inuyasha right now. Her head was pounding, her body wouldn’t stop shaking, her throat was burning, and she felt dizzy. She still needed to try and understand what was happening, though.

The hanyou reached over to her, softly pushing sweat-soaked strands of hair behind her ear. “I need you to trust me. Okay? I know you’re scared, but I’ve got you. Nothing bad is going to happen. I know someone who can help us both. I’m going to take you to her.”

Unintentionally, Kagome held out her pinky to him. A pinky promise. Of all times, of all people, she was requesting a pinky promise, as if it would actually keep her life in tact. It was habit. He wouldn’t understand, and she shouldn’t expect him to.

To her surprise, Inuyasha tangled her pinky with his, showing minimal hesitation to give her what she wanted. With that same grip, he pulled her closer, silently telling her to climb on his back.

“Did - did you want me to hold your bag?”

“No,” He replied, though her inquiry reminded him to think of one thing he’d have been pissed to leave behind. He pulled the drawstring of his bag open, pulling out the folded, red robe that used to belong to his father. He stood, walking to the backside of Kagome to pull her drawstring open and shove it in her own bag before securing it shut. “I don’t need anything else from it.”

“Are you sure?” She asked as he crouched before her again.

“Promise. Climb on. We gotta go.”

She did as he asked, tensing her muscles again to make them cooperate, though her vertigo made it difficult just to position herself on his back. Even though she didn’t feel completely settled, Inuyasha took over for the rest, firmly clutching the backs of her thighs and standing. With a little jostle, he hiked her up to position her perfectly, the backs of his hands finding each other beneath her bottom so she was secured.

“If you feel sick again at any point, let me know and I’ll stop immediately. Otherwise, hang on tight.”

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#inuyasha #kagome #kagome higurashi #inukag #inuyasha fanfiction #inuyasha fanfic #inuyasha fic #inukag fanfiction #inukag fanfic #inukag fic #monster #akitokihojo

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roguestarsailor · 4 years

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You know what since we’re still in quarantine and i have nothing else better to do, i need to obsess over ACOTAR. I don't like a court of frost and starlight. For the longest time I couldn't figure out why I didn't like it. I aggressively read the book in maybe a day and I closed it feeling frustrated and annoyed. My version had A Court of Silver Flames preview so that definitely contributed to my annoyance greatly.

It's because it felt too perfect. Everything that had happened -- after the entire war was fought and won, they just go back to their normal lives? Yes there were hiccups and yes there were still aspects that made every IC character feel like their problems aren’t solved yet...but it didnt feel right. yes i enjoyed the snowball fight between the bat boys, feyre + rhys sexy time, and those little comfort moments too, the slice of life type things and seeing feyre accomplishing her goals and how hopeful the future seems BUT its too fast. the good parts of the book did not offset the bad parts of it.

Feyre literally accomplished pretty much every single goal she made back in ACOMAF just like that?? within a span of what a few months? a year?? She really came back from an entire war -- probably the first war of many since she's immortal and just like that, after her 21st birthday: she gets a whole entire estate, wants to start poppin babies, opens her art studio and starts teaching kids and then acting like she can rule an entire court?? the timeline is sooo short esp since its been brought up over and over again how everyone is literally 500 years old and have a super “messy” history and their changes seems to come super dupe slowly. but feyre, who has only lived 0.000000002% of her fae life, is out here thriving just fine???

the war devastated thousands of illyrian soldiers where its changing the politics of the illyrains and the faes, all of whom feyre has responsibilities over too as high lady. the mortal queens are still at large who left the humans on prythian to die which is why feyre was willing to go to war in the first place! what about the rest of hybern and their land and residents?? they wanted to enslave humans for social and economical reasons! then what about integrating humans w deep hatred and fear with deeply prejudice fae??? there’s also spring and summer court who are literally in ruins. thats literally so much. so idk how feyre is just chillin???? she gonna let rhys do all the hard work???

like feyre sit down. u should not be having a baby. esp since it took u literally a 700 pages to heal from those 3 months UTM. ur telling me shes gonna whole heartedly bring in a newborn in a war devastated world, with civil unrest (illyrains, other courts), with the messiness of human and fae integration, with trauma u and rhys will have to continue to overcome esp after THIS war??? even helping ur sisters w their traumas??

this is a personal opinion on this subject (and maybe my thoughts will change on this later on; opened to other thoughts) but when i read the part about how that weaver/seamstress artist who made that dark quilt that feyre loved talked about how her mate of 300 years didn’t come back from the war and her biggest regret was that she didnt have a kid to remember him by i just thought ur kid isn’t some sort of memorabilia. don’t have a kid to keep the memory of ur mate alive; have a kid cuz u want a kid purely for the sake of having a kid. ur memories and photos and shit will keep their memory alive but its not having a kid. some primitive need to keep the genes alive maybe?? but the way it was phrased and then in turn how feyre was like oh i need a baby pronto cuz rhys might die in the next war and regret not having a kid with him didn’t sit right with me. also the other couple were together for +300 years and have a rich life together, while shes been with rhys for literally two years THATS NOTHING IN FAE YEARS. thats still the honeymoon phase and also ur problems arent even close to being over!!!

everyone was shitty to nesta. in ACOMAF, we saw how much the IC went through and still did all they could to help feyre. what made them not think nesta deserve the same welcome? nesta is mean as a defense but did no one try to figure out what would help (amren got close but shes so under developed)??? feyre knows nesta feels too much and yet she continued to be shitty. continued to flaunt her wealth, her status, her familiarity/borderline know-it-all attitude about fae/night court, her ~estate~. forcing nest to the solstice party when nesta was literally like i dont belong, im looking at everyone through a window type of thing; the fire cracking triggering her, etc. what kind of power play was that when she made nesta come to her estate, where nesta could SEE how ~homey~ and how suscessful feyre is and fully see all the lovely paintings of everyone feyre loves that explicitly exclude her to tell her to fuck off to a war camp?? bro???? cas was a dick too and elaine was rude. i think a lot of his actions were meant to make her angry since anger keeps u fighting (as was the method of rhys for feyre in ACOMAF) but what he said was stupidly shitty and i demand that he apologize properly. elaine could have done more to help her sister but whatever. mor was definitely an ass too (and im upset for how little her character growth is).

Lucein. that man can’t catch a break tbh. im happy that hes w the band of exiles cuz he is whole heartedly accepted there. feyre was definitely an asshole to him even tho he helped as much as he could throughout the books. he tries so hard w elaine as well and it did hit my heart a bit when she was like gloves to work in my garden?? no ?? i use my bare hands see oNly aZiReL sEeS mE fOr WhO i Am. and at the same feyre is like flaunting her mate status to lucein which is mean as shit. its like this man can’t find love in prythain. then tamlin sending him his box of his things??? thats for sure brutral. tam was literally his partner through it all; savior of sorts even. no love from IC, no love from elaine, no love from feyre, no love from tamlin, no love from autumn court rejected everywhere! also HIS TRUE FATHER?? HEllo???

then on tamlin. i pity the guy! was i suppose to feel that way??? it felt like he is allowed to get a redemption arc and maybe i’ll even root for a redemption arc??? i was absolutely excited for freysand in ACOMAF but after ACOFAS, im like tamlin is....not completely bad??? his relationship w feyre was bad and the controlling parts were very much a no-no. i dont truly understand the dynamics of an abusive relationship but i can understand that it can be insidious and its the little things that hurt the victim. and i felt feyre through ACOMAF and rooted for her to escape her abuser! but then it felt like i dont think he was doing any of those things out of malice. ill say tamlin is a bad leader and doesn’t know how to run a court outside of what he sees his father do. his understanding on everything is based on the traditions of the past which i think fueled most of the things he did i.e. not telling feyre she was in danger since maybe his mom didn’t do those war planning things. ACOTAR showed how he truly cared/loved and took good care of feyre and her family. he even talked about how he didn’t believe in the enslavement of humans! i think that tam wanted to preserve what he thought was the good (aka feyre + her love of painting) and get back a sense of control that he and his entire court lost while chained to amarantha. but at the same time, i think he truly thought feyre wasn’t safe. he knows rhys can crush minds and knows feyre can’t read/write so when he got that letter telling him shes safe of course hes gonna flip shit and made a deal w the devil (although those temper outbursts were DEFINITIVELY not ok!!!). he also didn’t listen and has sense of he knows best when feyre was not the type of person. but feyre destroyed his entire court. he lost all his sentries who literally went out to die for him during amarantha’s reign. he lost lucien too; his trusted right hand man. his people were cursed for 50 years and then continued to suffer UTM and was in the process of rebuilding too! but just seeing spring court, WHO BORDERS THE HUMANS, be in ruins where his subjects left him, his people left him and hes all alone in the manson?? that was sooo sad. so im like why does what feyre did not feel satisfactory????? im mad that it didn’t feel right??? maybe there wasn’t a point where feyre talked to tamlin -- like really talked to him esp w her new found voice and power, etc. anyways, i dont hate tamlin and was like oh shit i think feyre fucked up a bit there.

rhys is a dick to nesta. which made me think, if feyre wasn’t his mate would he extend the same love and care to her??? i loved how he tried so hard to make sure feyre was ok. made sure she wasn’t breaking! all of it! but for nesta, he had the audacity to use his high lord voice and be an ass overall. even tho he can see how cas is fucken in love??? even just how he talks to cass feels off too.

i’ll even go as far as to say because of how terrible ACOFAS was, it created this intense divide within the fandom. i remember reading the first three books and was absolutely 1) rooting for freysand 2) curious about the sister relationship and how it will be mended 3) i definitely didn’t hate nesta nor did i hate elaine either -- but i was adament about them talking it out with feyre for those tough times 4) saw a more realistic and charming healing arc 5) was rooting for feyre to be a stronger voice and grow into herself 6) love the dynamic of the inner circle + feyre

but after ACOFAS, I have this intense need to defend nesta and was super mad at how she was treated after the war and in turn a deep dislike for elaine for both her lack of agency, lack of grit that made all the other characters interesting, and lack of care for her sisters (who showed how much they would risk for her). i dont hate rhys but i was extremely not happy with him and his attitude and behavior. feyre became more arrogant and was acting like how asshole rhysand would act. like her life is perfect now and i was not rooting for her anymore. freysand didn’t feel like they have complimenting qualities that made them interesting in the first place but rather they are merging to become the same person but in a bad way. that mind reading thing was cute in the beginning but it became insufferable since all thoughts were shared so seamlessly it made reading feel weird.

anyways those are my thoughts on ACOFAS. it was a 1/5 stars for me and im mad those events transpired. reading the other books made me excited to know what was gonna happen and i was truly ready to accept the characters as flawed and nuanced as they are. im not mad about character not liking each other but i am mad that everything felt off. ACOFAS just felt regressive in some parts and forced in other parts. i know not everything ends in a nice tied up bow but this book single handily ruined what i thought about these characters in the worse way possible. this book wasn’t suppose to wrap up all the problems that exists in the other books but it didn’t feel hopeful like i thought it would. it didn’t feel wrapped up and didn’t feel like i should be excited about the next books. theres so many missing pieces i feel that i think need explaining and at the same time, i think it introduced too many problems at once which made it feel like its jumping around everywhere. although im still excited for ACOSF because i love nesta, and nesta deserves so much better and i want to have hope that this bad ending will either make sense later on or it was just a blimp.

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viastro · 5 years

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always you | wen junhui

ミ★ synopsis: there’s one rule when it comes to friends with benefits, don’t catch feelings. however, you and your best friend jun were never that good at listening, now were you?

ミ★ genre: light angst, some humor, some fluff

ミ★ warnings: none!

ミ★ word count: 1,829

ミ★ pairings: jun x female reader

ミ★ notes: hi guys! i wasn’t planning on adding any angst but it somehow... ended up happening... so I... am so sorry....

You and Jun knew that the concept of “friends with benefits” was horrible. You both had a consensus that it never works, and someone always ends up developing feelings through it. However, even after all those times you both clowned the act, you still ended up in each other’s arms. Which is currently right now.

You’re laying in Jun’s bed, his arms wrapped around your bare torso as he sleeps. This is the nth time you and Jun have had sex in a span of two months. You don’t know how this began, well you do but that doesn’t matter. One second you’re both making fun of how they all say “no feelings allowed,” the next second Jun is kissing down your body and you can’t help but want more.

Jun and you have been best friends for as long as you could remember. Your moms have been best friends since they were kids, and as soon as your mom was pregnant with you, his mom was ecstatic about her son on the way having a friend the same age. When they found out that you were gonna be a girl, it slowly went from having our kids be bffies, to having our kids marry each other when they’re old enough.

As you and Jun grew up, you always got disgusted at the idea of marrying each other. Jun using the excuse of you having cooties from the tender age of 5, all the way until he was 16. While you, you said he was a burnt piece of broccoli.

“Y/n, honey, doesn’t junnie look handsome? He even got your favorite flower for your corsage!” Your mom exclaims, making Jun smile widely at her as she gives him a kiss on the cheek. He’s wearing an emerald green dress shirt with tight fitting black slacks. He has a black tie with small polka dots on it, and in his hand is the clear container that’s holding your corsage.

Jun gives you a wink and you fake gag into your hand immediately, making him roll his eyes and your mom hit your shoulder with a giggle. “I suppose… he looks decent…” You mutter, giving him a shit-eating grin and he glares at you.

“Alright, alright you two. Just go and get your corsage from him, then pin the boutonniere on him for me please. You know that auntie will want a good photo of you guys.” Your mom tells you both, making sure to mention Jun’s mom. You walk up to Jun as he takes out the corsage from the container, it’s a white daisy with a few gems surrounding it. You glance up at him through your falsies and you notice that he’s looking at everything but you.

“You know that you have to put the corsage on my wrist, right?”

“YoU KnOW thAt YoU hAVe TO pUt ThE coRsAGe oN MY wRIsT, rIgHT?”

“Motherfucker did you just mock me?” You ask him and he finally looks into your eyes, and you take notice of the blush on his cheeks, but your attention soon goes elsewhere once you notice the challenge in his eye.

“Why yes I did, you cooties having woman.” He answers, putting the corsage on your wrist, to which you both pause your mini feud to smile at the camera.

“What are you, nine? We’re sixteen Junnie please.” You tell him, making sure to prick his chest with the boutonniere and he flinches a bit. You both turn once again to smile at the camera.

“You guys argue like a married couple. It was cute at first, but after having to deal with it for the past three years…” Your mom mentions, causing you and Jun turn away from each other to make vomit noises. She rolls her eyes at the both of you.

“Me? Married to the CEO of cooties? Hell no auntie!” Jun exclaims and you raise your hand up to slap him, making him flinch away from you.

“Oh yeah? At least I’m not a burnt piece of BROCCOLI!” You shout and he gapes at you.

“What did you just call me?” Jun asks, taking a few steps forward until there’s only a couple inches between you both.

“You heard me. Burnt piece of broccoli havin-”

“Okay thanks for the pictures! Have fun! Be home by 11!” Your mom says, shoving you both out the door to avoid a brawl breaking out in her doorway.

Someway, somehow, you and Jun moved past that stage of being fake disgusted with each other and ended up becoming friends with benefits. The one thing you both made fun of the most, especially after all those nights of staying up reading Wattpad stories about the friends with benefits concept and laughing. Now you are both, indeed, booboo the fool.

The first morning after it happened, you guys telepathically agreed to act like it quite literally did not happen. However, that was hard. Considering the fact that Jun seemingly started checking you out more often than not, and him noticing your lingering touches, it ended up happening again. The second time it happened, you both talked it out.

The one and only rule you both agreed on was: “Don’t catch feelings, and don’t let this ruin our friendship.”

As you lay here, feeling Jun’s soft breaths on the back of your neck as he sleeps, you know you’ve broken the rule. You know that it’s been broken for awhile, and you don’t want to tell him. You can’t tell him.

However, what you don’t know is that Jun also broke the one and only rule you both have set. It was broken from the moment you both created that rule, considering the fact that he’s been in love with you since you guys were eighteen. He knew it when you both danced together under the stars at your annual “camping in the backyard” summer activity. He knew it when you’d stand up slightly on your tiptoes to squish his face whenever he made a sarcastic comment. He knew it when he would turn to you and see the whole galaxy in your eyes. He knew it from the moment he first leaned in to kiss you on the drunken night, and when he saw you against the white sheets. He’s known, but he doesn’t have any plans on telling you.

°。°。°。°。°。°。°。゜。°。°。°

In the process of denying your feelings for Jun, you met someone from your lecture. He’s nice enough, and he’s rather attractive, but your heart is in the wrong place. Deep down you know it, but you being dumb, you ignore it.

As Jun gets up to go to the restroom during your move night, you check your phone. You notice that the guy from lecture texted you a few minutes ago asking if you wanted to go and grab some dinner. “Oh shit.” You mutter, thinking about what to say. “Should I go?” You whisper to yourself.

“Go where?” Jun asks as he sits back down beside you on the couch, and you quickly turn off your phone, somehow afraid to get caught. This makes you almost slap yourself in the face, because why should you be afraid?

We’re not dating anyways.

“Oh, this guy from my class asked me to go get dinner.” You say as nonchalantly as possible, and you feel Jun tense up beside you.

Because what the fuck, no.

“O-oh.” Jun says quietly, and he internally curses himself because that’s not at all what he wanted to say. You somehow feel disappointed by his lack of response, causing you to also internally curse yourself because you should be happy about it. Him not caring is a step closer to you getting over him, you think to yourself.

“I think I’ll go and get dinner with him. The movie is over anyways.” You say quickly, getting up off the couch and walking over to the dinner table to grab your bag.

“R-really? You don’t wanna make pizza with me?” Jun asks, standing up and following you, trying desperately to make you stay without making it obvious that he doesn’t want you to go. You let out a forced giggle, shaking your head no softly.

“We can do that next time Junnie, I’ll text you later?” You say and Jun bites his lip. You cock your head to the side as he reaches out and grasps your wrist softly.

“What?”

“I don’t want you to go y/n.” Jun murmurs, causing your heart to beat hard against your chest. He looks into your eyes and you feel your knees weaken, along with your resolve. “Why?” You ask quietly.

“I..” You look at him expectantly.

“I broke the rules..” He whispers and you feel your heart drop into your ass.

“You.. you what?”

“Y/n, I don’t want you to see anyone else. I don’t want you to go out and eat with any other guy. I don’t want you to date anyone else,” Jun feels his heartbeat in his ears as he takes a deep breath to prepare himself for what he’s about to say next.

“Y/n, I love you. I’ve been in love with you since we were eighteen. When we first started this and had that agreement, I broke the rule from the start.” He whispers and you stare at him, gaping.

Because holy shit it’s not one sided.

You feel tears flood your eyes and Jun’s eyes widen at the sight of a teardrop fall. You look down, covering your face with your hair as Jun starts asking what’s wrong and why you’re crying. You take a step forward, wrapping your arms around his torso. Jun freezes, before melting and holding you in his arms, rubbing your back the way he knows you like it.

“I broke the rules too, I love you Junnie. I love you so much.” You say, and Jun pulls back so he can get a good look at your face. Your eyes are puffy, and your nose is a bit stuffy, but he knows he’ll never forget this sight.

“You do?” He asks and you nod your head, letting out a smile once he smiles widely at you.

“Perfect.” He whispers before grasping your face with both hands, leaning in to finally kiss you. It’s nothing new, this whole kissing thing, but it’s different this time around. You both know it, and you both can feel it. You start to smile, causing him to smile and teeth to clash together, so he pulls back. You smile widely at him and he giggles at you.

“Just to clarify though,” Jun says, regaining his composure. You raise an eyebrow and he gives you that teasing grin you love so much, “this means you’re not gonna go meet that guy for dinner… right?” You burst out laughing and Jun chuckles too.

“Yes Jun, that’s exactly what that means.”

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ugly-crying-over-bucky-barnes · 4 years

Text

Field of Poppies Part 5

Summary: After being apart for six years, childhood friends Tommy and Amelia reunite under odd circumstances. Tommy is an outspoken young man and Amelia is pregnant and out on the streets. The bond of family can be unbreakable but it is tested often. Especially when Europe descends into war.

Part 5: Amelia finally breaks her silence about the father of her child.

Tommy wasn’t sure to be happy or a bit nervous. But it just so happened that he and Amelia would get the family vardo to themselves for the night. Ada had opted to go stay with her cousins at the camp next to theirs. Polly took Finn over to her sister’s camp across the way. And Arthur and John had decided to rough it for the night, sleeping under the stars.

Tommy wasn’t sure he’d been that close to Amelia for that long. It wasn’t super cramped inside the wagon, but it wasn’t very roomy either. And with Amelia seven months along, they had to be close to one another.

“Not too warm, are you?” Tommy asked when he noticed she was still awake, staring at the ceiling with her hands on her stomach.

“No.”

He waited a moment and cleared his throat. “Something you want to talk about?” There was that little tell in her eyes that meant she was deep in thought. It was a hint of sadness yet questioning.

She took a deep breath but didn’t look at him. Her fingers drummed over her stomach. “I uh…he was someone I knew.”

“Who?” Tommy’s brow furrowed as he turned to his side and propped himself up with his elbow. “Who did you know?”

“The uh…the father.”

“Oh, right.”

Amelia chewed on her lower lip. “My parents were talking to his parents about maybe arranging a marriage. He was my dad’s boss’s son. And they thought it was a perfect match. I guess my dad would get the most out of the deal but I dunno what they were exactly talking about.” Her shoulders moved slightly in a shrug. “Maybe thought it would elevate us in society, what he always wanted.”

The tone of her voice sent a shiver down Tommy’s voice. It was almost like she was telling him about something she was grieving. Why she was mourning something. But there was shame in her voice as well. And he couldn’t be certain why that was until she told him everything. And he hoped she did. He hoped he was trustworthy enough to confide in.

“I didn’t know him very well. We’d only met a few times with my parents. Then I went out with him for the night. He…” She shut her eyes, to block out the memory only in vain.

“Mel-”

“I swear I wasn’t drinking or-or anything. I trusted him and I don’t know.” She started to cry.

Tommy sat up and gently took her hands. “Mel, Amelia, you know I don’t give a fuck about that. If you were drunk or whatever. It was his fucking fault for doing that to you. You didn’t do anything wrong.” He could only surmise what she was talking about. It would kill him to hear the graphic details of the assault. And it wouldn’t do anything to help the anger boiling in his blood.

“I didn’t say anything, I didn’t know how to say it. But then I got pregnant and my mother-she…” Amelia hiccupped.

Tommy’s thumb stroked gently over the top of her hand. “S’alright, love.” He tried to soothe her. But what could he say? It was done and now Amelia had to pick up the pieces of everything, to live with the memory. What could Tommy say to help? No words seemed to do the trick.

“She called me a whore; said I was being loose all over the fucking city.” Her tears flowed freely down her cheeks. She didn’t move to wipe them because she didn’t want Tommy to let go of her hands. “I told her the truth. She told my dad and he said I was a liar. They believed him over me.” She couldn’t say anymore, it was too much.

“S’alright.” Tommy swallowed his anger and helped her sit up so she could hug him tightly. “I’ve gotcha. I’m sorry, Mel, I’m sorry.” The story was more than he expected and it made his heart pound. He had no clue who the man was, what his name was, what he looked like, but he swore he was going to kill him. No one hurt his Amelia without consequences.

Yet, despite his anger, Tommy was relieved she was in his arms. He felt better that he was there for her. His arms wrapped around her, cradling her close. There was confidence in his chest that he could protect her.

“I’m sorry.” She sniffled against his chest.

“Don’t apologize.” He stroked her hair back. “He don’t deserve you or the baby. Your parents don’t deserve you either. Fuck ‘em all. If they ever bother you again…”

“I know.” She lifted her head and wiped her cheeks. “Arthur told me what you said.”

His face went red. “Rat bastard.” He muttered.

She smiled tearfully. “Tom, I appreciate you so much. I’m just not sure I’m worth any of this. My mom said-”

“Don’t matter what she said. What matters is that you’ve got people here who care ‘bout you. People who would never hurt you like that.” He wrapped an arm around her when she let out a hiccup. “Just try to get some sleep. It’s been a long day.”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

It was so quiet out in the countryside. There were no loud noises waking Amelia up in the morning. So, she slept until nine o’clock, a rarity those days.

Warm sunshine was streaming in through the small windows in the vardo. She sat up to see Tommy was gone and had been for a while by the looks of it.

She got dressed, feeling a bit sluggish from waking up so late. Yawning, she stepped out of the wagon.

“There she is. Thought you were gonna sleep the day away.” Arthur grinned. He sat with Polly, watching Finn toddle around in the grass.

“It’s good you got some sleep,” Polly said. “You’re going to need it.”

Amelia smiled. After the emotional conversation she had with Tommy the night before, she felt much better. The burden of keeping everything inside had been lifted, making her feel lighter and happier. “Is Tom around?”

“He’s riding around the grounds, probably isn’t too far,” Arthur answered.

“Well, I’ll go for a walk to see if I can find him.” She decided and began heading for the river.

It was a beautiful summer day and Amelia felt blessed to be in the sunshine with the clear sky overhead. Conversation floated through the air as people greeted those they hadn’t seen in a while. Families spent quality time together, for a brief span of time they were unbound by the stresses of life.

“Mel.” The soft sound of hoofbeats on the damp ground came up behind her.

Amelia turned to see Tommy riding over on his horse. He slowed the gelding down to a walk once they got beside her. “Oh, glad you found me. I was looking for you.” She smiled up at him.

There didn’t seem to be anything more natural than Tommy Shelby riding a horse. Amelia couldn’t even recall when he started riding, it was almost as if he was on the back of a horse before he could even walk. She remembered long summer afternoons spending time at Charlie’s yard with the horses.

Amelia could ride but she was never quite the rider the other Shelbys were. Her parents didn’t see the benefit of having her around horses. Besides, she thought it was fun to watch the others show off their skill. She was content just to lope around on a well-tempered pony with the reins almost to the buckle.

Tommy, as well as the other Shelbys, were more content with a challenge. He enjoyed green horses who would kick up a fuss with him. He didn’t mind being bucked off as long as he could get back in the saddle again.

His uncle said his horsemanship came from his maternal grandfather who was said to be some sort of horse whisperer. But Amelia attributed it to Tommy’s personality. He was the kind of boy who wanted to see how fast he could go. He wanted to see the risks and toe the line. That was always how he was with everything.

But he was happiest with horses, that much, Amelia knew.

“Want to hop on?” He offered.

She giggled. “I don’t think that’s a good idea.” Her hand rested on her stomach.

He smiled. “Right, sorry.” He dismounted with ease so he could walk with her instead. “Probably couldn’t even get you up there with that stomach of yours.”

“Hey!” She smacked his arm.

Tommy laughed and pulled the reins up over his horse’s neck to lead him along. “I didn’t mean it as an insult. Were just saying you’re pregnant s’all.”

“Hm…” She shook her head with a smile and a sigh.

“I did think you were going to sleep the whole day though.” He said as they continued walking along the bank of the river. “You were out like a light. Didn’t even move when I left. Pol told us not to wake you up.”

“Well, it was nice to sleep in.” She agreed. Her hand absent-mindedly rubbed over her stomach. “Thank you, by the way, for talking to me last night.”

He shrugged. In his eyes, she didn’t need to thank him for talking or listening for that matter. It was what friends did after all. It seemed silly he wouldn’t. “Of course. I’m just sorry about what happened.” It was unlike Tommy to let things go unresolved. But what was he supposed to do about some stranger in London? It wasn’t completely unreasonable to learn who he was, hop a train, and kick the man’s teeth in, but he knew that’s not what Amelia would want. And it wasn’t what was important.

“Y’know in a way, I’m not upset that I got pregnant.” She admitted. “I wish it hadn’t happened the way it did but if I hadn’t gotten pregnant, then I wouldn’t have ended back in Small Heath. And I wouldn’t be back with you.”

He paused in his step to look over at her with a smile. “Always looking on the bright side of things, aye? That’s the Amelia I grew up with.”

She smiled back but felt her cheeks go a bit red under his gaze. “Can we head back? I think my feet are getting a little swollen.”

“Sure.” Tommy clicked his tongue to the gelding so they could turn around and walk back to the vardo.

~~~~~~~~~~~~

Once they returned, they were greeted again by Polly and Arthur.

Amelia sat down while Tommy hitched up his horse to graze.

“Any more Lee boys giving you trouble, Tom?” Arthur asked.

“I think they got the message.” Tommy sat down on the steps of the wagon and accepted a cigarette from Polly.

Amelia looked over the grassy field where a group of children was playing. She spotted Ada and John with their cousins and other Traveler kids. “Who’s that with John?” She wondered. Even from afar, she could tell the dark-haired girl around John’s age was upset with him about something. She was spouting off at him as the rest of the kids ran back and forth around them.

The two eldest Shelbys snickered and Polly sighed. “That’s Martha Shelby.”

“Oh, is she a cousin?”

“Nah, but she’s bound to end up being a Shelby one of these days. Those two already bicker like they’re married.” Arthur chuckled.

“She’s one of the Boswell girls. They’ve been friends for a very long time even if they wouldn’t admit it.” Polly added.

“Oh, and here the happy couple comes now.” Tommy pointed out.

Indeed, John and Martha were both stomping over, each looking irate with one another. “Tom, tell Martha that I jumped a fence that was this high!” He urged, holding his hand up to his hip. “I jumped Whiskey over that fence near Uncle Charlie’s yard and it was this high!”

“No way, you couldn’t jump a horse over a twig without falling flat on your face.” Martha crossed her arms over her chest.

“How are you, Martha?” Polly asked.

“I’m fine, Polly, thank you.” The young girl answered politely while still being frustrated with her friend.

“Tommy, tell her!” John urged.

He sighed. “I have no fucking clue, John. I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“HA!” Martha jabbed a finger at him. “You are a liar.” She concluded before hurrying back toward the game of football.

John glared daggers at his older brother before following after her.

“You’re only stirring the pot.” Polly scolded, although she did look amused.

“Please,” Tommy smirked. “The more they fight, the more they’ll realize they should just get on with it.”

“They seem young to be deciding that sort of thing.” Amelia leaned over as best she could to help retrieve a toy for Finn.

“Gypsies like to arrange marriages when they’re young,” Polly explained. “I’m sure the Boswells are already looking for a husband for her.”

“And they wouldn’t naturally pick a Shelby for her. So, might be best if Martha decides for herself, even if they are young.” Arthur agreed with a shrug.

“Hm.” Amelia didn’t agree with the sentiment but could see their point. “I think it’s important to make your own decisions when it comes to love.” She had a faraway look in her eyes as she watched the kids play.

Polly subtly glanced over at Tommy. It was hard for any of them to ignore that statement. But Tommy just shook his head, urging his aunt not to say anything about arranged couples.

Arthur cleared his throat and took the hint to change the conversation. “Y’know, Mel, I think you ought to name the baby after me. Afterall, I’m your favorite Shelby, ain’t I?” He grinned.

It drew her back to the conversation, making her laugh. “And what if it’s a girl?”

“Well…I dunno. Maybe there’s some sorta variation.”

“Perhaps.”

“Arthura or…erm…”

Tommy chuckled as his brother racked his brain for options. He leaned back and finished off his cigarette. It was a very nice day.

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Flatbush & Atlantic: part ii

Here’s part ii! Please reblog and send your thoughts, I love hearing feedback! I was doing a ton of research on American immigration law, and it doesn’t look like Canadians technically need a visa for most work circumstances, but I’m taking it as a matter of artistic license.

https://slapshot-to-the-heart.tumblr.com/post/615257287896989696/flatbush-atlantic-part-i

part ii

October 5

“Mat, I’m in the middle of a meeting,” Chris said, glancing up at him with a bemused-yet-slightly-annoyed look on his face.

Mat looked over at Cass, ducking his head and sheepishly tucking his hands into the pockets of his jeans. “Oh, yeah. For sure. I’m sorry, I should have knocked, but I got this letter, and. Yeah. I shouldn’t have interrupted, that was rude. I’m sorry.” Cass couldn’t help but let out a snicker at his rambling, and Mat turned to look at her with a raised eyebrow. He held out his hand. She took it. “Sorry about that.” His cheeks colored. “I keep apologizing. I’m Mat Barzal.”

“Cass Cabrera Shaw,” she replied.

“Cass is our new intern, so you’ll be seeing each other around. Hopefully not too often.” Chris said, nodding to where she sat in front of him.

“I got the job?” Cass asked, her head jerking back to look at Chris.

Chris nodded like it should have been obvious. “Cassidy. You’re more than qualified, you know the sport, you understand the responsibilities. You go to a top 5 law school. Yeah, you’re hired.” She blinked, still trying to take it all in. Chris turned to Mat. “Okay, Barzal, you’re up. What’s wrong?”

Mat scratched his neck. “Okay, so I know I should have looked into it sooner and taken responsibility for it. And I do, I mean, take responsibility for it. It’s just, I was in Vancouver for the summer and then vacation and then training camp and—”

Chris cut him off. “Barzal. What is it?”

“I missed the deadline for my visa renewal.” That sounds familiar, Cass thought ruefully. At least she wouldn’t be alone in her dumbassery.

Chris put his head in his hands.

Mat held up a hand. “Wait, it’s not as bad as it seems, I promise.”

“Try me.”

“I called whoever’s in charge, they left a number on the letter—”

“State Department,” Cass said, tucking a stray piece of hair behind her hair when Mat looked back at her, a hint of a smile on his face.

He nodded. “Thanks. Yeah, them. I called them and explained the situation, and they agreed to give me an extension.”

Chris cleared his throat. “And by ‘the situation,’ you mean…” He trailed off.

“That I was an NHL player who wasn’t in the country when they sent reminder letters. I might have used the Commissioner’s name once or twice.” Mat said sheepishly.

“And we all know how much weight Gary Bettman’s name carries with American immigration policy,” Chris deadpanned. “Okay, give me a second to think how we’re going to get this done. How much of the forms have you filled out?”

Mat flipped open the folder he had brought, scanning the pages. “Most of it.” At least he’s not entirely hopeless. “There were a couple things I wasn’t sure about, and some new stuff that I don’t remember from last time. I figured it was better to bring it in than try to submit it on my own and get it all horribly wrong.”

“Thank God for that,” Chris said, giving a half-smile. After another minute or so of thinking, he raised his head and looked to where Cassidy was still sitting, straight across the desk. “I saw on your transcript that you’ve taken several immigration law classes. Any fieldwork?” Chris asked.

Cass nodded. “Yeah, there was a clinic run by the school that reviewed visa applications and other paperwork for recent immigrants, I volunteered there for a few months.”

“Good. How familiar are you with O1 visas?” He asked, looking in between Cassidy and Mat.

“For extraordinary capability? I’ve studied them a little, I know that’s the kind that most NHL players are obviously on but I’m not an expert by any means,” she said.

Chris tapped his fingers on the desk, seemingly lost in thought, before his eyes flickered between her and Mat. “Okay. You’ll be running point on Mat’s visa renewal.” Cassidy’s face blanched. “It’s mostly done so it shouldn’t be too hard. But between you and me,” he paused, raising an eyebrow at Mat, “I wouldn’t trust this boy to fill out the paperwork to adopt a goldfish, so make sure you double-check everything he wrote in. Come to me or Richard with any questions, but I really do think you’ll be fine. Got it?”

Cass jerkily nodded her head, still trying to fully process. In the span of the last ten minutes, she had gotten a job that she thought she had no chance for and had been put in charge of a very delicate, very expensive, very important set of immigration paperwork for Mat Barzal. Mat Barzal, the 2018 Calder Trophy winner. Mathew Barzal, the future of the Islanders. No pressure.

“I should probably give you my number,” Mat said, pulling out his phone and holding it out to her. She looked at him with confusion, head tilted to one side. Mat’s face flushed and he rushed to clarify. “Like for the work stuff. In case I have questions about the visa or you need me to translate my chicken scratch for you.”

Now it was Cass’ turn to blush, gently taking his phone out of his hands and navigating to the messages. “I’ll text myself, that way you’ll have my number too. For questions,” she paused briefly, “or anything else.” Cass was typically never that bold, but there was something about the way Mat cracked a smile that made her sure she had made the right decision.

Chris coughed, bringing their attention back to the desk and the issue at hand. “I’ll go and make a copy of these for your records, Mat,” he said, standing up and reaching over the desk for the file with the visa forms, “and Cass, you’ll be working off of the originals.” He glanced between the pair. “Don’t do anything stupid while I’m gone.”

Chris closed the door behind him, and Mat leaned up against one of the filing cabinets. “So, you’re working for the team now?”

“Yeah.” Cass nodded. “I’m excited, it seems like it’ll be a great position, but I think the prospect of my betrayal might be too much for my poor dad. Working for the enemy and all.”

Mat let out a laugh. “Rangers fan?”

“Big one. I’m from Connecticut so he grew up with the Whalers mostly, but when they folded the family allegiance switched. And when Mike Shaw is in on something, he’s all in. I’m fearing for my well being,” she joked dryly, the corner of her mouth twitching up.

“I think you’ll be fine,” he said, looking up at her. “Tell your dad that I promise we’re not as bad as we seem. Tito, maybe,” he added, wiggling his hand. “But I’m a good guy, as long as you promise not to sell off our training secrets and pass formations to the highest bidder.”

Cass held up three fingers. “I give you my word as a former Girl Scout that I won’t leak the absolute mountains of information I have access to.”

“Pinky promise?” Mat asked, holding out his hand.

It was Cass’ turn to laugh, and she stood up from her chair, leaning over and interlocking their fingers. “Pinky promise.”

Chris chose that particular moment to walk back in, raising his eyebrows briefly. “What’s going on here?”

Mat cleared his throat. “It took a lot of convincing, but I got Cass to pinky promise me that she won’t sell us out to the Rangers.”

“I’m glad to hear it. Apparently there was a rash of double-crossing by interns that I wasn’t aware of,” Chris said, handing over the sheaf of copies to Mat. “And Cassidy, I’ll see you tomorrow at 10?” Cass internally groaned, knowing that it would take well over an hour on the train. Still, she nodded curtly. “Of course.”

He smiled, reaching over the desk and shaking her hand. “I’ll put these,” he said, gesturing to the forms, “in your desk tomorrow. You’ll be working out in the main area, we’ll get you set up when you come in. Other than that, you’re good to go. Glad to have you on board. Genuinely.”

Cass leaned down to pick up her backpack, walking out the door and into the elevator with Mat by her side. “So, I’ll call you if I’ve got questions on any of this, right?” He asked, folding the papers and tucking them into his inside jacket pocket.

She nodded. “Yeah. This one is a little different but I’ve done a lot of filling out forms and revision for this before, so I don’t think it’ll be too much of an issue. If I don’t know the answer to something, I can find it for you. I might have some questions tomorrow, you guys have a game, right?” Cass asked. Mat nodded. “So obviously I know you’ll have morning skate and be by the arena most of the day, but try to have your phone with you when you can so we don’t have to play phone tag, y’know?”

He smiled, holding the front door open for her as they existed onto the busy street. “I’ll do my best, Cass. See you soon.”

As promised, as soon as Mat had turned the corner, Cass pulled out her phone, clicking on Samaira’s contact. She picked up on the first ring. “Samaira, you’re not going to believe what my afternoon has been like.”

She headed straight to her room after getting home, managing to squeeze in a few hours of reading before getting started on dinner. Pasta was easy to make for everyone; Alicia was lactose intolerant and Stella kept kosher, so simplicity was often key in group meals. Sautéeing some collard greens with onions and garlic, she turned her head towards the rooms and hollered to the rest of the apartment. “DINNER’S ALMOST READY!”

Much to her chagrin, Cass got up bright and early the next day, shoveling down a bowl of cereal before grabbing her bag and heading out the door.

October 12 (fri)

The Islanders had a weeklong road trip, so Cass had been reassigned to contract review since she was all but done with Mat’s visa renewal. She glanced at her watch, seeing that it was nearly noon. Nearly noon meant nearly lunchtime. She hadn’t figured out what she wanted to have for lunch quite yet, but food carts in New York were a dime a dozen; while she wasn’t being paid for the internship, she was given a stipend for lunch and travel expenses that she took full advantage of. Just as she flipped the page over, the office door opened. Assuming that it was some assistant coming for Chris or one of the other lawyers returning from a different office, she didn’t pay it too much mind. That was, however, until the figure stopped by her desk, coughing to get her attention. “Yeah?” She questioned, looking up and tilting her head in confusion when she saw that it was Mat.

“I had a question about one of the employment history sections, and the office said you’d be here today. I brought food,” he said, holding up a paper back emblazoned with the name of a local Chinese restaurant.

“Oh God, bless your heart,” she said, pulling over another chair. “I’m starving. Sit down, walk me through it. What’s got you confused?” It didn’t occur to Cass that he could have easily asked her over text.

October 17 (tues)

Sitting at her desk, Cass was trying (and failing) to finish her notes before midnight when her phone lit up with a text. And then another one. And then another. Rolling her eyes, she picked it up, expecting something from one of her younger siblings or a friend from back home. Instead, it was Mat. Hew brow instantly furrowed, swiping up to see what was the matter. He had sent two pictures, both screenshots from newspapers. Florida Man Arrested for Throwing Gator at Mother-in-Law, the first one read. Florida Man Charged with Reckless Endangerment for Filling Nursing Home Koi Pond with Baby Gators, said the other. Do u think it’s the same guy? He asked.

Rolling her eyes, Cass wrote out a reply. No doubt. Criminals have patterns.

So do u think all Florida men are obsessed with gators or just this one?

Gator cult. She tapped send, picking it back up almost immediately. Obviously.

October 21 (sat)

The plane back from Montréal is about to leave. Any album recs?

Mat and Cass had been texting back-and-forth for the past few days, so it wasn’t exactly a surprise that he asked her.

Wasteland, Baby - Hozier, Electric Light - James Bay. Amidst the Chaos - Sara Bareilles if ya wanna get a little spicy. I’m mostly an indie kinda girl, give me a sec and I’ll send you my playlist.

Can’t wait, Mat responded. Cass loved music, and always found it to be something intensely personal. So what was it about Mat that made her so willing to share?

October 23 (mon)

Cass hated getting up early, but there were some things better than sleep. You wanna get coffee before your classes? Mat had texted the night before. Coffee was one of them. Grabbing her backpack and tugging on her favorite pair of ankle boots, she headed out the door at 7:02.

“Where are you headed this early?” Alicia asked quizzically, her own tote slung over one shoulder. Ryanne almost always left the earliest, usually having to get to her rounds well before anyone else had woken up.

“Mat and I are going out for coffee,” she said, picking up her keys from the nail by the door.

Alicia wiggled her eyebrows. “Oooooh, Cass has a daaaateee,” she said in a sing-song voice.

Cass’s cheeks burned. “It’s not a date, I’m just helping him out with some paperwork. He’s asking me out as a friend. Just because he’s cute—”

Alicia cut her off. “AHA! So you DO admit that you think he’s cute?”

Cass groaned. “Yeah, okay, he’s cute. You happy?” Alicia nodded. “But just because I think he’s attractive doesn’t mean that this is going to be anything other than friends getting together before work, okay?”

Her friend shrugged. “Whatever you say, Cass. Have fun, be safe! Use prot—” Cass closed the door as quickly as she could without slamming it. Forty minutes later, she was walking up to the coffee shop, greeting Mat with a hug.

“Sorry if I kept you waiting,” Cass said.

Mat shook his head. “You didn’t, don’t apologize.” He opened the door for her, hand ghosting over the small of her back as he followed her in line. A few minutes later, Mat was at the register, ordering a cappuccino. He turned to her. “What do you want, Cass?”

“Mat, you don’t have to pay for me,” Cass said, pulling out her wallet.

Mat gently pushed her hand down. “I was the one who suggested it, Cass. I’m paying the bill.” He handed over his card to the barista, turning back to her with a smile. “You can get it next time.” She laughed.

“Fine, you win. Coconut milk latté.”

Oct 25 (wed)

“Afternoon pick-me-up?” Cass looked up from her desk, confused but excited to see Mat in front of her desk.

“Huh?”

He held up a coffee cup, a speckled white-and-blue reusable. “You mentioned something about needing me to sign the last page or something? I brought you coffee, the cup’s for you too. Place says you’ll save 25¢ whenever you use it.”

“Yeah,” Cass said slowly, “and you faxed it over, right? Kristie said they got it in this morning.” Kristie was the office assistant, and had handed the page to Cass right as she had walked in the door half an hour prior.

“Oh, uh, yeah,” Mat said, seemingly flustered. “I was worried I might have made a mistake on it, so I thought I’d come over and double-check.”

“You’re worried you made a mistake signing your own name?” Cass didn’t quite understand it, but there was something really endearing about him wanting to come down and check it himself rather than just calling her or emailing Chris. “Okay then,” she said, leaning over her laptop to grab the folder. She traded it for the coffee in Mat’s hand, the Post-it note on the side of the cup catching her eye. Coconut milk latté. He remembered.

Oct 26 (thurs)

What are your thoughts on sushi? Cass got a text from Mat as she was about to get out of her environmental law lecture. The professor had already started packing up her things, so she risked a message back.

As a concept or as a food?

The food haha

All positive, love sushi!

I know this great place in Chelsea, want to grab dinner later?

You don’t have a late practice or anything with the guys? From what she had gathered, even when it wasn’t a game day, Mat would usually get an extra workout in after practice or go out with Tito and some of the rest of the team.

Nope :) Nothing after 2

Cass bit her lip, weighing her options as she shut her laptop and exited the lecture hall. She wasn’t reading too much into it, was she? Friends got dinner together all the time, it wasn’t weird for him to have asked her. It was normal. Typical friend stuff. Sure, she liked him. She liked him a lot. But it wasn’t worth jeopardizing her career and reputation to try and fabricate something that probably wasn’t even there. Sounds good! I should be able to get there 6ish if that works for you?

Perfect! He wrote back, I’ll send you the address.

Les and Fiona caught up to her that afternoon after she practically ran out of their review session the second it was done. “Woah woah woah,” Fiona asked, catching Cass just as she was about to exit the library. “Where are you headed off to so quick?”

Cass tucked a piece of hair behind her ear, scrunching up her nose. “Getting dinner with Mat.”

Les wiggled his eyebrows. “Ooooh, your man?”

Cass went red. “He’s not my man! He just asked if I wanted to get sushi. And I’m hungry, and he said he’s paying. So I said yes.”

“But you like him,” Les said, as if he was stating the obvious. Which, in a way, he was?

She shrugged her shoulders. “Yeah. It’s hard not to. But he asked me out as friends. It’s not a date. If it was a date, he would have said so? Right?” She was starting to ramble.

Fiona reached out to touch her shoulder, rubbing her thumb back and forth. “Maybe. But maybe not. It’s possible that he is into you, but you and I both know that’s a question best answered by someone other than us,” she pointed at her and Les. “And even if he doesn’t, it’s still a free dinner.”

Cass let out a small smile. “You’re right.” She glanced at her watch. “I told him I’d be there by 6, so I probably should get going if I want to catch the train in time.” She gave each of them a brief hug. “See you next week!”

“GOOD LUCK!” Tyler hollered as she turned the corner. Cass’ cheeks burned, and she was beginning to realize why.

---

Cass got home from the restaurant just after 9, trying desperately to make sense of the past few weeks. Getting ahead of herself had never led to anything good, and much though she wanted to, Cass wasn’t about to put words in Mat’s mouth. But he had been the one to suggest dinner, and he had picked up the tab again. “You’re in law school,” Mat had said with a shrug when the check came. “I’m not about to make you pay for your own food when you don’t have to.” Shaking her head and pulling out the kettle to make a cup of tea, she tried again to rationalize everything. “We’re friends. I’m doing him a solid by helping him out with this paperwork, he’s just trying to be nice and pay me back. Which he doesn’t need to do, because it’s my job. But he’s nice, so he’s doing it anyway. Because we’re friends.” Frustrated, she grabbed her mug, walking back to her bedroom and barely paying any mind to the splashes of near-boiling water that hit the ground.

Oct. 27 (fri)

It was a quarter to 6, and Cass couldn’t wait to get out of the office. It wasn’t that she didn’t enjoy her job. It was incredible and she was so thankful for the opportunity. It was the fact that Mat fucking Barzal had been on her mind all day and she had been finding it so damn hard to concentrate on research and contracts and precedent when she was busy trying to sift through her own feelings. Cass wasn’t a particularly insecure person; like anyone else, she had those days, but it wasn’t really a matter of her thinking he was “out of her league” or that she wasn’t good enough for him. She knew that the whole concept of “leagues” was dumb and classist, but there was something about the whole dynamic that she couldn’t quite shake, and couldn’t quite tell if it was something good or not. It was five minutes to six, and she couldn’t stop her fingers tapping on her desk, waiting to be set free. Waiting for her mind to stop racing. Waiting for her heart to stop pounding.

She spent the next five minutes trying in vain to get through a paper Chris had sent her — she had even broken out her neon highlighters — but nothing was working. Thankfully, Chris chose that moment to stick his head out of his office and call to her. “Cass?” Her head perked up. “I’ve got some files to email you, mind coming in for a sec before you leave?” She nodded, pushing out of her chair and crossing the room.

“How was your day?” Chris asked, pulling up the files to email her.

“Uh, pretty good!” Cass said. “Fridays are relatively light for me, I had a morning meeting with the law review and then headed over here. Mat and I got sushi last night, so that was nice.”

Chris looked up over his laptop. “You and Mat?”

Cass nodded, brows furrowing. “Yeah. Is that an issue?” It was never something she had bothered considering, but —

“Not that I can think of, no,” he said, shaking his head. “You’re spending a lot of time together, though, have you noticed that?”

“Yeah, I mean, we’re friends, but I didn’t think that was a problem—” Chris held up a hand, cutting her off with a smile.

“I’m not so sure that what Mat wants is a friendship, Cassidy.” He paused. “My son’s about his age, and please feel free to stop me if you’d like, but this is exactly how he acted when he met Iris.”

“Iris?” Cass questioned.

“His fiancée. If I’m reading the situation right, and I think I am, the poor boy’s head over heels for you, Cass.” He clicked his mousepad. “Just sent them over, try to go through them by Monday.”

She nodded, seemingly in a daze as she picked up her bag and walked out of the office, pulling out her phone.

To: Mat

Are you free later?

Oct 28. (sat)

Tapping her foot nervously, Cass fiddled with her phone just to give her hands something to do. They had grabbed breakfast before she had to head to the office and he had to go to morning skate, and she had stolen the check while he was in the bathroom. But she still hadn’t brought up what Chris had said, or for that matter what Les or Samaira or Alicia had been pestering her about for the better part of the past month.

Mat returned to the table, snapping Cass out of her thoughts. “You ready to head out?” It was only just past nine, so the plan had been to take a walk around Prospect Park before they had to take off. Cass nodded awkwardly, grabbing her coat and scarf from the back of the chair and looping it around her neck. Mat’s brow furrowed in confusion, but if he suspected anything, he didn’t say so. He walked a few steps ahead of Cass, holding the door open for her. They walked in silence for a block or two; not an awkward silence and not a comfortable one, but some kind of strange liminal space in between the two where it was clear that neither of them was really able to read the room. Mat’s knuckles brushed up against her own.

As they crossed the street into the gardens, Cass took a deep breath and looked up at him. It’s now or never. “What are we doing?” She breathed, so softly that Mat wouldn’t have heard if he hadn’t been standing scarcely a foot away.

“We’re going to a park?” Mat questioned.

She wrung her hands, trying to avoid looking at him. “I mean, what are we doing. You and I.” She ran a hand through her hair. “I don’t want you to think that I’m reading too much into things, or that I haven’t enjoyed getting to know you and spend time with you because I have, but I just need to know what there is going on between us. If there is anything going on between us.”

Mat shoved his hands into his pockets, leaning up against a lamppost. “I mean, I’d like there to be. I’m into you, Cass, I thought I had made that clear,” he added with a single laugh. Cass gave him a quizzical look. “Do you think I actually needed to come into the office every time I dropped in on you? That I’d ask just anyone for music recs? That I asked you out to coffee or dinner just as friends? Cassidy,” he said, standing upright and taking a tentative step towards her, “I don’t even know Tito’s coffee order. But I know yours.” He took another step forwards when she didn’t move back, faces so close that their noses were almost touching. “I wouldn’t ever want to push you into something you weren’t ready for. But Cass,” he tilted her chin up with his hand, “I’m all in if you are.”

She took a shaky breath, willing the voices inside of her head to still themselves for just one moment so she could gather her thoughts. “Mat, I want this,” Cass said, gesturing between the two of them with one hand, the other wound with frustration in her curls. “You have no idea how much I want this. But I work for the team. We both do. And I can’t have anyone thinking that I’m here for anything but the job, that I’m a puck bunny or will be distracted from my work and go run off with my boyfriend or whatever you are—” She cut herself off abruptly. “Trotz might get mad at you, sure. I don’t think it would really matter on your end, though. You wouldn’t face any actual consequences. I’m expendable to this team. You’re not.”

Mat’s hand came up to cup her cheek, one thumb swiping away a tear gently, so gently, that she hadn’t even realized had leaked out of her eye. “You’re not expendable, Cass. Not to me, not to the team, not to anyone who’s ever bothered getting to know you. You are such an incredible woman and I know you know it, but sometimes it doesn’t seem like you really believe it. If this is scary for me, and it is, I know it must be downright terrifying for you. And I know you’re worried how it would look, us being together, what the team or Chris or whoever would think, but you need to remember to let your talent speak for itself. If I have a shitty game, miss an easy shot or whatever, there’s always the people who say that Trotz should move me down a line, or that I should be traded, or whatever. And there’s always going to be those people. But if you keep your head in the game—”

“Alright, Troy Bolton,” Cass said, finally giving him a watery smile.

“You realize that if I’m Troy, you’re Gabriella?” Mat asked, raising one eyebrow, hand still on her cheek as the other perched on her waist. Cass leaned into his touch, wrinkling her nose. “Maybe that was a bad metaphor, but Cass, you’re brilliant. You’re such a good student and you’re so dedicated at work. You’re going to make an incredible lawyer. Everyone sees that. And I absolutely respect that you’re worried about what our relationship might do for your career,” He swallowed hard, skating his hand down her arm to hold her hand. “And I’m not sure what else I could say other than what I already have. But you’re good, so good, and they’d be idiots for letting you go over something like this.”

Cass swallowed. “They say some things are worth the risk.”

“Are we gonna do this?” Mat’s hand moved to the small of her back, leaning down so their lips were almost touching, barely, not quite.

“We’re gonna do this.” Cass closed the gap.

#hockey imagine #mat barzal #mat barzal imagine #nhl imagine #hockey writing #nhl writing #nhl fluff #hockey fluff #islanders #new york islanders #mathew barzal #hockey imagines #nhl imagines #nhl smut #hockey smut

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funkelly · 4 years

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Get to know me tag game

Tagged by @shortstack-posen

not sure who to tag lol

1. what is the color of your hairbrush? I don’t actually use a brush. Short enough to just use my hands.

2. name a food you never eat: anything with the suffix “-salad.”

3. are you typically too warm or too cold? Too cold

4. what were you doing 45 minutes ago? watching schitts creek

5. what’s your favorite candy bar? used to be snickers.

6. have you ever been to a professional sports game? yesssss. I love Golden Knights hockey.

7. what is the last thing you said out loud? lol i have no idea

8. what is your favorite ice cream? mint chocolate chip or salted caramel

9. what was the last thing you had to drink? wine

10. do you like your wallet? yeah, it’s super slim.

11. what is the last thing you ate? mac n cheese

12. did you buy any new clothes last weekend? no sir

13. what’s the last sporting event you watched? the last game in the playoffs the knights played in.

14. what is your favorite flavor of popcorn? just butter

15. who is the last person you sent a text message to? my friend ian

16. ever been camping? once when i was 9.

17. do you take vitamins? so many

18. do you regularly attend a place of worship? every sunday (online since covid, of course.)

19. do you have a tan? didnt really tan this summer, no one was gonna see it lol

20. do you prefer chinese food or pizza? depends on where either are from

21. do you drink your soda with a straw? only if its take out

22. what color socks do you usually wear? multi-colored

23. do you ever drive above the speed limit? im sure

24. what terrifies you? talking in front of groups of people

25. look to your left, what do you see? bottle of sleepytime pills

26. what chore do you hate most? washing dishes

27. what do you think of when you hear an australian accent? my friend mike and i would put on australian accents whenever we’d go to disneyland just cuz

28. what’s your favorite soda? cherry coke at the movies

29. do you go in a fast food place or just hit the drive thru? drive thru

30. what’s your favorite number? cant think at the moment

31. who’s the last person you talked to? myself

32. favorite meat? boneless wings

33. last song you listened to? Found Out About You by Gin Blossoms

34. last book you read? i havent been able to read since my surgery, i dont have the attention span.

35. favorite day of the week? saturday

36. can you say the alphabet backwards? lol im sure

37. how do you like your coffee? a cappuccino is ideal

38. favorite pair of shoes? vans high tops

39. time you normally get up? between 11:30am-2:30pm

40. what do you prefer, sunrise or sunset? Sunset

41. how many blankets on your bed? A sheet, duvet, and a weighted blanket

42. describe your kitchen plates: blue bottom with white face

43. describe your kitchen at the moment: ship shape

44. do you have a favorite alcoholic drink? i love a margarita on the rocks, or hot sake

45. do you play cards? I’m exceptional at cards when I’m drunk.

46. what color is your car? silver

47. can you change a tire? yo-yeah

48. your favorite state or province? Nevada

49. favorite job you’ve had? director

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kita-lavellan · 5 years

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OC’s Spell List - Kita Lavellan

In an attempt not to overpower my Inquisitor in battles and fights, (since it’s the easiest thing in the world to overpower a magic-user character), I spent several hours figuring out which spells she knew, pulling from all the games, making any small edits for my Inquisitor’s backstory, and deciding when and under which circumstances she learnt them. WIP but I wanted to show my friend what I had so far...[Edit: This is taking forever to work out and type up *sobs*]

Natural Inclinations/Starter Spells

A) Veilfire - Age 6

Kita learnt Veilfire as her first spell by conversing with Spirits in the Fade. She only stopped speaking to the Spirits when the Keeper of her Clan finally realised the girl had magic, and began warning her of the dangers of Demons, forbidding the girl from interacting with the creatures of the Fade if she wished to stay with Clan Lavellan and her family.

She knows how to write with Veilfire, a skill thought lost to the ancient elves, but after her Keeper’s reaction to finding out she even knew how to cast the comparatively simple Veilfire flames, Kita has kept that piece of information a secret from everyone except her mother, and later her sister.

1) Winter’s Grasp - Age 7

The caster locks their target in a thin sheet of frost and ice. Some targets can be frozen solid, the smaller the target the higher the chance of it being frozen. The target gives off waves of cold that can cause discomfort in other nearby enemies. A frozen target takes additional shattering damage from a melee blow.

This was the first spell Kita cast outside of the Fade. Her mother would tell stories of how, when her daughter’s porridge was too hot, a small shower of snowflakes and frost would settle across it’s surface.

2) Cone of Cold - Age 9

Cone of cold produces a blast of ice in a 90 degree angle, with the caster as the point of origin, reaching out 4 meters (13ft). Cone of Cold is more effective against larger targets than Winter’s Grasp, but similarly to Winter’s Grasp, Cone of Cold can freeze targets causing them to give off waves of cold that cause discomfort to nearby enemies, and take additional shattering damage from melee attacks. Cone of Cold can also be used to freeze environments such as stones, puddles or put out fires.

Kita used to use this spell to create paths across ponds, or to create small area’s covered in snow for her baby sister, Nel, to play in.

3) Chain Lightning - Age 11

A bolt of lightning hits a target of the caster’s choice within 2 meters (6ft). It then splits into two (2) bolts, each jumping to another target, within 2 meters (6ft) of the First Target, and doing half the original amount of damage. Each of those secondary bolts then splits into two (2) more bolts, jumping to different target, within 2 meters (6ft) of the Second Targets, and doing a quarter of the original damage. Overall, Chain Lightning can hit a maximum of seven (7) targets, and 300% of the base spell damage.

Kita learnt this spell instinctively after watching a bolt of lightning hit a tree in the Emerald Graves during a summer storm. The hot and muggy weather that followed the rainfall brought many biting insects to the clan’s camp, and after growing tired of batting the offending creatures away from herself and her sister, she sent small sparks of chain lightning at the insects.

4) Hand of Winter - Age 13

Hand of Winter sends of a blast of ice and snow in every direction for 7.5 meters (24ft), with the caster as the point of origin. Since this direction also includes up and down, this spell can be used to partially freeze lakes, or create a floating glacier-like structure. It is almost guaranteed to freeze any living target in it’s path, unless the target is a magic user of exceptional will themselves, able to resist and overcome the spells effects through sheer willpower.

When Kita was twelve (12) years old, she fell through the ice on a lake and drowned. Her five (5) year old sister, Nel, summoned spirits that lifted her sister from the icy lake, and resurrected her by guiding her departed spirit back to her body from beyond the veil. For almost a full year after the event, Kita practiced her ice based spells over and over. They grew stronger, but not enough that she felt safe enough to use them crossing lakes and ponds as she had as a child, until her mana exploded in a wave of ice cold. She learnt Hand of Winter through practice and determination, and with a stubborn desire to no longer be afraid of the water. While her spellcasting was a success, Kita still doesn’t love water above her waist, or swimming in water where her feet can’t reach the bottom.

5) Telekinetic Burst - Age 15

A simple defensive spell, Telekinetic Burst sends out a wave of magical energy, with the caster as the point of origin. Anyone within 1.5 meters (5ft) of the caster is either stunned and left staggering, or physically knocked back by up to 3 meters (10ft). The strength of the blast is determined by the spellcaster’s willpower, and the amount of mana thrown into the spell.

Kita and Nel often explored the area’s near where the Clan camped, running off alone in the Brecilian Forest or exploring the grasslands of the Exalted Plains. On one such occasion, they stumbled upon a group of hunters who didn’t take kindly to the teenage elf or her eight (8) year old sister, threatening to cut off their ears or send them to the nearest Alienage. Desperate to get the grown men, with weapons, away from herself and her sister, Kita’s will manifested in the form of a Telekinetic Burst, giving the two girls the chance to run and lose the hunters in the wilderness. She had to tell her grandmother, Keeper Deshana, about the encounter and the Clan moved on quickly, but it did bring about the Keeper’s decision to officially name Kita as her First.

Keeper Taught - Learned as the Clan's First

Chosen to be the Keeper’s First at Age 16, Kita spent a year learning how to use a Mage Staff correctly. The Keeper refused to teach her any new spells until she could manipulate a staff as a weapon in it’s own right as well as being able to pass her small repertoire of spells through the wood correctly. Kita shattered many training staves, before learning to regulate the flow of her mana.

B) Arcane Bolt

One of the first lessons Deshana gave Kita was how to use a staff to form an Arcane Bolt. An Arcane Bolt can be used even when a caster’s mana is near depleted because it relies less on the caster’s mana, and more on the power infused in whichever Rune is crafted into the Mage Staff. While it needs a mage to activate the Rune, it draws power from the energy infused in it’s crafted form, not the mages abilities. Because the spell doesn’t draw from the caster’s mana, it’’s ability to cause damage is weak, but it’s range is exceptional. Able to hit a target up to 30 meters (100ft) away, the Arcane Bolt is best used on either a retreating enemy, or as a way to redirect an enemies attention away from an injured companion. Arcane Bolt is also useful in teaching a young mage accurate aim, casting techniques and staff movements, because there is little chance of them causing damage with a miscast Arcane Bolt.

1) Spellbloom - Age 18

Spellbloom creates a sphere of revitalizing energy that can span up to 10 meters (32ft) in diameter, with the caster as the point of origin. When touched by this restorative energy, mages find their mana pool replenishing faster, and fighters find their stamina bolstered, while the weary traveller might find the strength to continue their trek for several more hours.

One of the first spells Keeper Deshana taught Kita, this spell is a staple of Dalish Clan life. Sometimes the Clan is not in a position to stop and make camp when the Halla are tired, or their warriors begin to flag, and the Spellbloom spell allows the Clan to continue on until they can find a safe place to spend the night.

2) Energy Barrage - Age 20

This spell sends a group of small orbs of magical energy at up to four (4) targets. Energy Barrage produces no less than eight balls of energy that attack either a single target, or up to a maximum of four random targets, depending on the caster’s intention. The maximum number of energy sphere’s created is determined by the strength of the caster, and the amount of mana poured into the spell making this a potentially draining cast. For a Circle Trained mage, the magical energy takes the form of whichever elemental type their staff is crafted to best attune to. In the case of a Dalish Elf or an Apostate Mage, whose (often makeshift) staves have no such elemental alignment, the energy takes it’s type from the power-type that the mage is most proficient in.

In Kita’s case, this spell takes the form of a mixture of lightning & ice blasts. This is unusual, and after spotting the puzzled expression on her grandmother’s face at the sight of the two elements mixing, Kita limits this particular spell to Lightning only. It uses more of her mana to limit it in this way, but to the teenager, it was worth the additional effort to avoid standing out.

3) Fist of the Maker aka Veilstrike - Age 22

This spell, known as the ‘Fist of the Maker’ among Circle Trained Mages, is taught primarily in the Circles located in the Free Marches. An elf who escaped the circle taught Deshana, and Kita, the spell in exchange for being allowed to stay with the Clan. Fist of the Maker draws energy from the veil, and uses the force to slam enemies against the ground. The spell can target a single enemy for massive damage, or span an area 4 meters (13ft) in diameter to stun all targets caught in the area of effect.

Kita first used this spell in battle when the Clan stumbled across a nest of corrupted spiders in the Brecilian Forest a couple of years after the end of the 5th blight. In an attempt to stop the spiders overwhelming the Clan’s warriors, and potentially infecting them with the blight, she used Fist of the Maker to crush the arachnids, the force of the spell shattering the creature’s legs and stopping their advancement. Once Kita begins discussing magic with Solas post-Conclave, she discovers that, among Apostates, and Rift Mages, this spell is also known as Veilstrike. Since Kita has no affiliation with the Andrastian faith, she begins referring to the spell by the much more neutral name.

4) Stinging Swarm - Age 24

Stinging Swarm summons a cloud of stinging insects that converge in an area of approximately 2 meters (6.5ft) in diameter, attacking any enemies within that space. If the mages will falters, the swarm will disperse harmlessly.

Another staple of Dalish Keeper’s, this spell is often used to fend off local wildlife, such as wolf packs or gurguts. Most animals will leave an area where a wasp nest resides for a few days before venturing back, and this often allows a Clan to camp safely without having to put the clans hunters at risk. Once Kita meets, and gets to know, Sera she often helps the young elf play pranks by summoning swarms of bee’s for Sera to bottle up. When Sera claims not to remember how she got bee’s inside of Commander Cullen’s training dummy, it was to keep Kita’s involvement in the prank a secret.

5) Fade Shroud - Age 26

Fade Shroud is an advanced version of the spell Arcane Shield. While the Arcane Shield uses mana to deflect incoming attacks, increasing a mages chances at avoiding weapon attacks and projectiles, Fade Shroud allows the mage to briefly become spirit-like and incorporeal.

Kita finds this easier than funnelling her magic into a physical barrier that deflects attacks, and when Deshana questions her about the unusual technique, Kita describes it as pressing up against the sail of a ship that is blown full with a strong breeze. You can press against it, and into it, but the veil is constantly pushing back to force you out again, which is why Fade Shroud can only be used in short bursts of up to five (5) minutes at a time. While active, however, the rush of energy from the Fade energizes the mage and replenishes their pool of mana.

6) Nature’s Blades - Age 29

Vines grow up from the ground, wrapping around the caster’s ankles and immobilizing them for the duration of the spell. Additionally, thorny vines then sprout from the ground for 4.5 meters (15ft) in all directions, with the caster as the point of Origin. Enemies caught within this field can be knocked back up to 10 meters (32ft). Any enemies not knocked away from the caster by this spell have to contend with reduced maneuverability, and the constant slicing attacks of the sharp thorns as the vines whip at and wrap around enemies within the spell’s range.

This is a spell that Kita created herself. It is a blend of the ‘One With Nature’ and ‘Thornblades’ spells that Keeper Deshana attempted to teach her. To this day the Keeper still believes that Kita simply casts the two spells in quick succession, and only Nel is aware that her sister crafted an entirely new spell to merge the two magical attacks.

7) Lightning Bolt - Age 31

A powerful lightning strike arcs down from the sky striking a single target, causing massive damage and paralysing the target for up to a minute. Up to four enemies within 2 meters (6.5ft) of the target can be blasted away from the target by up to 4 meters (13ft) from the force of the Lightning Strike.

When news reached the Clan about the Chantry of Kirkwall being blown up by an apostate mage, Keeper Deshana encourages Kita to study the Lightning Bolt spell. In addition to causing damage, and stunning an enemy, Lightning Spells also drain a warrior’s energy (stamina) and the Keeper wanted her First to be able to defend against potential attacks from Templars or Town Guards now on the lookout for Apostate Mages.

Learned Throughout Inquisition

1) Barrier - Age 32

3) Fireball/Flashfire - Age 32

4) Crushing Prison - Age 34

5) Lightning Cage - Age 34

Specialization Spells - Rift Mage & The Anchor

1) Stonefist/Fadefist - Age 32

2) Pull of the Abyss/Devouring Veil - Age 32

3) Mark of the Rift (Open Small Rifts in Inquisition/Parts the Veil post Trespasser) - Age 32, 34 & 36

4) Aegis of the Rift - Age 36

5) Magical Discharge (Weaker post Trespasser/Uses Mana not the Mark) - Age 36

Post Trespasser/Arbor Blessing

1) Blizzard - Age 36+

2) Tempest - Age 36+

3) Firestorm - Age 36+

4) Custom Spell - foci based magic TBD - Age 36+

5) Custom Spell - foci based magic TBD - Age 36+ Link to Kita’s Masterpost

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songofsaraneth · 5 years

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wow its been a minute huh but ok!!! apparently its been... 6 months since i did a catch up post y i k e s but that about tracks with the chaotic state of my life these days. so uhhhh let’s see where things are at since my last update. honestly if u want a better more consistent look at my life instagram @mermaidjadeofficial is my more active place now just cause i have to be better about it for business reasons :/

I successfully baked that wedding cake and it turned out lovely

still doing taiko drumming!!! I had my first stage performance this september, I’d played at small events or on the sidelines at some local half-marathon races before, but it was nice to push into full song/stage routine. as a hobby it’s been really nice and honestly. everyone should adopt a hobby where the other members are predominantly women over the age of 65. Birdwatching, knitting, book club, whatever. It’s so refreshing to spend time with people that far outside my age group and older ladies are a HOOT. Also with all my joint problems I finally feel on par vs spending time with all my climber/mountain biker friends. Also Karen’s having her hip replacement in a few weeks so everyone send her good vibes for her recovery.

keepin’ on with the modeling, though took a break for the later half of fall. Did several photoshoots this summer, including a big bridal one in july. It was fun but now that I have some for my portfolio I’m pretty over bridals, unless they involve some other fun concept. That’s like 90% of the photoshoots in Utah though because of the mormon population density so may or may not be shooting myself in the foot if I stop those. I am really proud of how well me & the male model in oregon did at pretending to be a couple tho! being able to pose naturally/convincingly with someone you’ve known less than 24hours is a skill, however undervalued, and I am proud of myself for being good at it.

I WENT BACK TO IRELAND!!!! ahhhhh my sad homesick heart. Spent time in Scotland & England again as well, I went BACK to the ISLE OF SKYE, it rained on me there a lot again but I did get one beautiful day. I got to see old friends, new places, old places I missed dearly, and eat a LOT of pastries. Like, a LOT. I could talk forever about the trip so I’ll just leave things at that.

While in Dublin I also went to worldcon again!! And I did finish my Raven Queen costume for it and I’m super proud of how it turned out. It’s the first corset I’ve ever sewn and it’s somewhat a miracle it fits but I definitely leveled up sewing wise with this project!!

got back from abroad and pretty much instantly got thrown right back into fieldwork. I don’t think I unpacked for a full month and a half after getting back since I was basically camping/staying in an airbnb for work for three weeks of september and the first two weeks of october. it was beautiful in the desert as always but also i cannot describe my relief at not having to live out of a suitcase for the first time since mid july.

i just realized that the cake picture followed by two bridal modeling example photos below it make it look like i actually got married so just to clarify. i definitely didn’t.

on the weekends between all those work trips I also ended up traveling, once to salt lake for some photoshoots! a fun La Llorona inspired one, one of my raven queen costume, and one just fancy dress one in the Utah Capitol Building.

and to denver to visit my bf/friends including one visiting from out of state, go to the oddities & curiosities expo, and then go two concerts!!! I saw Korpiklaani and Eluveitie, and then Arch Enemy and Amon Amarth, the later two I’d never seen play live before. I love moab but I MISS CONCERTS SO MUCH sometimes ahhhhhg

been trying to get better at my own photography/editing/retouching as well. have done a couple portrait edits of myself but I think I wanna start getting other models to pose for me so I can work on faces that aren’t my own bc wow does staring at yourself for 5-8 hours make you keenly aware of every flaw your skin possess.

I also have been very sparse online bc, and this is probably the main important one and no one will read this far down now that i’ve burried it. but i spent most of my free time the last two months studying for the GRE, which I have now taken. i am going to try to find a school/lab and go back for my masters degree, ideally with a start date of next fall. it’s a big step i’ve been putting off for a long time but i feel like if I just keep waiting I will never do it. so. that’s gonna be a big life change in my future, assuming I can find somewhere to take me.

because of the above: i am not doing NaNoWriMo this year. that’s honestly the biggest bummer of my life right now. I made it 4 years in a row and it is always such a good motivational challenge for me. and I’ve even had things I planned out to work on for most of it that I was really looking forward to!!! but honestly I just couldn’t swing it and study for the GRE and had to put the latter as my priority. which sucks. idk if I’ll have time to do it in the future either bc grad schedule but... yeah. trying not to think about it too much at the moment bc it bums me out.

Kazul is still the most perfect and beautiful snake ever and our 2 year anniversary was a few days ago :)

ok this update is hugeo so i’ll leave it there. if you read this far, pls sell me your attention span, i need to find/purchase/steal one before i go back to academia

#ramblings #PHEW #now will i vanish into the abyss for another 6 months #or will winter depression drive me back to the internet more frequently eyyyy #me #my stuff #long post #LORD tumblr really killed the quality on those nice pics of mine huh #uhg

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setaripendragon · 5 years

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Not All Who Wander - Chapter 6

[Chapter 1] - [Chapter 2] - [Chapter 3] - [Chapter 4] - [Chapter 5] - [Chapter 6] “Fingers crossed the next chapter won’t take quite so long“ I said. Well, obviously, every last one of you crossed your fingers, because LESS THAN A WEEK LATER, here’s the next chapter. ...I had so much fun writing this one you have no idea =D Have some hijinks and fluff to make up for the dark tone of the last chapter.

Bilbo had absolutely no idea what he was doing. It was stupid, foolish, ridiculous. He was behaving like a tale-addled fauntling, and the worst part of it all was that he couldn’t even bring himself to regret it, even though he knew he should.

It was just that Thorin’s letters over the autumn and winter had been so sad. Well, actually, they’d been clipped and formal. Still just as informative as ever, and still full of just as much gratitude and curiosity as ever, so Bilbo was relatively assured that Thorin wasn’t mad at him, at least, but… Bilbo was concerned. And usually, when he was concerned about a friend, he would pop over for a visit.

Of course, Thorin wasn’t a hobbit, and he didn’t exactly live just down the lane. He was a dwarf, and he lived in a mountain. It was an insane notion, and Bilbo had spent all winter trying to shake it out of his head. But he couldn’t shake the memory of how Thorin had smiled to see him, and his nephew’s words about his more usual demeanour, and… If Bilbo could help make the dwarf a little happier, then- Well, then he wanted to, and that was reason enough, surely.

Thorin had ever so helpfully provided him with a map that had his home marked on it – marked, but not named as more than ‘dwarven settlement’, which Bilbo thought was rather sad – and his own maps helped him plan out a route, and there wasn’t really anything stopping him, was there?

It had been like taking a walking holiday, and just… not turning back. The first night he stayed with his Took relatives, which was normal enough, and the second night he spent at the inn in Michel-Delving, and that wasn’t too odd, but the next night he was forced to camp out on the Far Downs, and at that point he was rather forced to admit that this was very much akin to an adventure.

On his own.

In the wilderness.

Gallivanting off to meet dwarves, for heaven’s sake!

What was he thinking?!

Only, of course, he knew what he’d been thinking. He’d been thinking of Thorin, of how the homesickness had been so very plain in every word he spoke about Erebor, of how he cared so deeply for his nephews, of how he looked at Bilbo like he was something remarkable. He was thinking of Thorin’s letters, how Bilbo could match the tone and cadence of the latest ones with the way he spoke to the other hobbits, but never Bilbo. He was thinking of that last letter, that had mentioned his plans to travel yet again being derailed by… Well, by something. He’d been annoyingly vague about that part.

He’d been thinking that he really, really just wanted to see Thorin again soon. Far sooner than his vague promises of ‘perhaps in the summer’. Why, by then it would be almost a full year gone by without seeing the stupid dwarf, and Bilbo couldn’t bear the thought of it.

One more night was spent camping in the foothills of the Blue Mountains, and then he was there.

His first clue was the huts. There were several little clusters of them, scattered across the slopes in a way that reminded Bilbo of nothing so much as stubborn goats perched halfway up garden walls out of sheer tenacity. They were not the best-built houses he’d ever seen, nor were they particularly elegant, but they looked sturdy enough, despite Bilbo’s fear that they might just go sliding off down the side of the mountain at the first nudge.

He got more than a few stares as he passed through the make-shift little village, and it made Bilbo feel very out of place indeed. Goodness, but if this was how Thorin felt in the Shire, no wonder he’d been scowling so fiercely. There was another slightly larger cluster of huts further along the path, but by that point, Bilbo was feeling a little uncertain. Thorin had said that they lived in the mountain, but was that another cultural difference? Had Bilbo walked right past Thorin’s house and not known?

He pulled out his map, wondering if it might hold any insights for him, but no, the little dot that symbolised this particular settlement spanned half a mountain, and offered him no details. There could be dozens of these little hamlets, and Bilbo could be wandering them for days looking for ‘a dwarf named Thorin’. He hadn’t thought this through at all.

“‘Scuse me, Mr Hobbit?” Bilbo’s head snapped up, startled. There was a dwarf standing nearby, head ducked forward as though he was trying to peer around Bilbo’s map to look at his face. He had the most ridiculous moustache, but there was a friendly, inviting smile underneath it, and his eyes were surrounded by laugh-lines. “Bit lost?” The dwarf suggested, tone light like they were sharing a joke.

“Ah, somewhat.” Bilbo admitted, going a little pink with chagrin.

The dwarf perked up and stepped closer now that conversation had been engaged. “Maybe I can be of service?” He offered, and then leaned in to look at Bilbo’s map. “Why, that’s a dwarven map, or I’ll eat my hat!” He exclaimed with some surprise.

“Well, yes, I should hope so, as it was a dwarf who gave it to me.” Bilbo agreed. “It’s no help, though. I know I’m in the right place-” He jabbed his finger at the little dot. “-I just don’t know where Thorin lives. I should have asked, really, but I never thought- Well, never mind. I don’t suppose you happen to know where I might find him?” He asked, hopefully, giving up on scowling at the map to look over at the helpful dwarf, only to find him looking startled.

“Thorin?” He echoed. “You’re looking for a dwarf named Thorin?” He checked, sounding a little incredulous, although Bilbo couldn’t imagine why. Unless that was like asking after a ‘Daisy’ in the Shire? Bilbo would be a bit incredulous if anyone asked where to find Daisy, without adding in a last name, or anything else to separate that Daisy from the dozens of others living in Hobbiton alone.

“Yes. Ah, he’s a blacksmith. He said dwarves don’t really do last names, but he did have one of those epithets you lot bestow for acts of valour or whatever.” It took Bilbo a moment to root it out of his memory, but he’d remembered weirder names for many a distant cousin, and, well, he liked Thorin a great deal more than he liked any of them, so he had ascribed the name a good deal more importance. “Oakenshield? Do you know him, by any chance?”

The dwarf was gaping at him now, slack-jawed and wide-eyed. “You-” He began, but didn’t seem to know how to finish that sentence. He mouthed helplessly for a moment. “Oakenshield.” He repeated. “You’re- you’re quite sure that’s the name?”

“Yes.” Bilbo insisted, getting a little impatient now. “He’s about so tall-” He gestured well above his own head and a little above the dwarf’s, even with the extra inches his hat gave him. “Long dark hair, short beard, impressive scowl.”

The dwarf started nodding about half-way through, one fist pressed to his mouth as if in thought. Bilbo stared at him, entirely befuddled and unsure whether the dwarf did or didn��t know Thorin. “Oh, Mahal’s balls.” He breathed suddenly, and Bilbo’s eyes nearly bugged out of his head at the profanity. “Blacksmith.” He squeaked. Snorted. And then he started laughing so hard he doubled over, wheezing. “‘Acts of valour or whatever’! Don’t know where he lives! Oh, by Mahal’s forge!”

Bilbo was feeling more and more embarrassed, and more and more annoyed about that fact. “Yes, alright!” He snapped eventually. “It’s very funny, I’m sure. But in case you hadn’t noticed, I’m not a dwarf! I’m sure you’re all well versed in where you all live and what you’ve all done, but this is the first time I’ve even left the Shire, for goodness sake! I just wanted to visit a friend, because that’s what we do in the Shire when someone you care about is having a rough time, but I’m really starting to feel like maybe I just should have stayed home and not bothered!”

“Ach, sorry, sorry.” The dwarf said, but he was still smiling, so that took some of the sincerity out of it, in Bilbo’s opinion. He seemed to notice that, because he went so far as to sweep his hat off his head as he sank into a bow. “My most humble apologies, Master Hobbit.”

“Well, now you’re just mocking me.” Bilbo grumbled.

“I promise I’m not.” The dwarf assured him, straightening up but not replacing his hat. “Well, not much. It’s just, uh, that Thorin, you see, he’s… Well, he’s a little bit famous, round these parts.” He admitted with a sheepishly amused grin.

“Oh.” Bilbo muttered, still feeling a touch irritable.

“He lives inside the mountain, too, and you might have a little bit of trouble getting in. We don’t usually have non-dwarves wandering around up here. I can show you the way, though, and maybe, uh, vouch for you, or something.” The dwarf offered.

The last of Bilbo’s irritation melted away, and he sighed. “Thank you.” He agreed, and then. “Oh, where are my manners? Bilbo Baggins.” He went to hold out his hand, and then remembered that Thorin tended to bow, so he did that instead, even though it made him feel very silly. “Um… at your service?” He offered, hoping that was the right thing to say.

The dwarf beamed at him. “Bofur, son of Bomfur, at yours and your family’s!” He replied, bowing again. Bilbo blew out a quiet, relieved sigh, glad he’d at least got something right. “This way, then.” Bofur encouraged, tipping his head back the way Bilbo had come. Bilbo sighed again, this time at himself, and then fell into step with the dwarf.

They walked for a minute or two in silence, weaving between the little stone huts, Bofur waving or nodding cheerfully to anyone and everyone who paused to stare. He didn’t get much in the way of response. Maybe a cautious nod if he was lucky, or a frown if he wasn’t. “You dwarves aren’t a very sociable lot, are you?” Bilbo asked, before he could think better of it.

Bofur snorted. “Nah, we’re plenty sociable among ourselves. It’s just… well, we’ve been through a lot, and it makes a people a bit wary and suspicious-like. No offence to you specifically. If, uh, if Thorin thinks you’re a decent sort, then you probably are, at that.” Bilbo felt oddly flattered by that, both for himself, and at the implication of trust in Thorin’s judgement. “D’you mind if I ask how you met him?” Bofur questioned, not exactly tentatively, but in a tone that suggested he was half expecting to be shut down.

For a moment, Bilbo was confused. Then he remembered the way that ‘blacksmith’ had been one of the reasons why Bofur had been laughing at him, and frowned. Was Thorin not a blacksmith? That hardly made any sense; Bilbo had seen him hard at work at the forge on more than one occasion. Had stopped to watch for long enough that he was pretty sure it couldn’t have just been for show. “He stopped to ask for directions to Bree.” He said casually, watching Bofur closely out of the corner of his eye. “He had business there, and his nephews had gone on ahead to advertise. I suggested he might want to try selling his wares in the Shire on his next trip, since we’ve a lot of need for good quality farming tools and such.”

Bofur looked surprised, but not as startled as Bilbo might have expected. “And did he?” Bofur wanted to know.

“Well, yes. Several times now.” Bilbo confirmed. The conversation faltered when Bofur didn’t seem to have anything to say to that, but before Bilbo could think of trying to find a new topic, the dwarf pulled up short and rapped his fist against the cliff-side they’d been ambling along. Bilbo froze, blinking in bewilderment.

Only, to his very great shock, a slab of the rock-face swung inwards in two parts. Like doors, Bilbo realised, staring open-mouthed in wonder. They were more than tall enough to accommodate four or five hobbits standing on each other’s shoulders, and wide enough to allow half a dozen or more to walk abreast, and the tunnel beyond was lit with glittering crystals that revealed a smooth hall lined with intricate geometric carvings.

“Oh…!” Bilbo breathed in awe, taking a step forward without thinking.

He pulled up short when a very long-handled axe was lowered across his path. Although, it was nothing like any axe Bilbo had ever seen before, with pointy bits on top and on the back and across the top of the handle as well. It looked like it would be next to useless chopping firewood, and Bilbo was fairly sure that meant that it was meant for a far more gruesome purpose. He stepped back again sharply. “Who’s that, and what’s he doing here?” The dwarf holding the axe – if it was even called an axe when it was meant for people and not trees! – demanded of Bofur.

“He is right here.” Bilbo huffed, irritated by the rudeness. “And he can hear you perfectly well and speak for himself just fine, thank you.” The dwarf gave him a long, incredulous look. “My name is Bilbo Baggins – at your service – and I’m here to visit a friend.” He offered a short bow, because that was apparently the polite thing to do, and it would be just the thing to make the dwarf ashamed of his own behaviour, really, to be better at dwarven manners than a dwarf.

“A friend.” The guard echoed incredulously. “What friend?”

Bofur cleared his throat. A glance told Bilbo that he looked like he was about to burst out laughing again, but was valiantly restraining himself. “Ah, I know we’ve got rules and whatnot about outsiders not being let into the mountain without King Thorin’s say-so, so I was just going to run on in and let His Majesty know he’s got a visitor?”

The guard nearly dropped his axe in shock. Bilbo couldn’t honestly say he would have done any better. Indeed, his fingers felt rather numb all of a sudden where they were wrapped around his walking stick. It felt a little like Bofur’s words were drifting over to him from a very, very long way away, but slowly, they filtered through into his mind in a shape that made… well, it didn’t make any sense at all, actually, but he understood what the words were supposed to mean, anyway.

It seemed like a small age that the guard just stood there uncertainly, before, eventually, he nodded, and gestured Bofur through with his axe. Bofur slipped past him and flashed a reassuring grin at Bilbo that Bilbo barely registered. “You just sit tight, Master Baggins.” He called, the words echoing in between the confused repetitions of ‘King Thorin’ and ‘His Majesty’ still swirling through Bilbo’s mind. And then Bofur was gone down the hall, and it and the guard vanished from view as the invisible rock-doors swung soundlessly shut again, leaving Bilbo gaping like a fish at a blank stone wall.

“King?!”

Bofur wasn’t really expecting anyone to stop him on his way to deliver a message to the King. Oh, there was a gamut of guards to get past, but ‘message for the King’ opened a lot of doors, even if Bofur didn’t have the braids of a courier. He was from the surface dwellings, which meant that if he made himself look a little bit harried, everyone expected him to be reporting on some new disaster, and they ushered him on quickly. He was glad that he’d get to deliver good news, instead.

He assumed it would be good news. Thinking back to the awkward little hobbit he’d left on the doorstep, Bofur had to stifle a grin. He knew very little about hobbits, all told, but that alone was enough to know that they didn’t exactly get out much. To have one come all the way here was remarkable, and the fact that it had all been for the sole reason of lifting the King’s spirits? That was sweet, and something Bofur most definitely approved of.

The guards pointed him towards the King’s office, an area of the halls he’d never ever had cause to visit before. It was a little intimidating, even if they didn’t look all that different from the rest of the halls. The carvings were more artistic, and the rooms and walkways better maintained, maybe, but only barely. And that was why Bofur liked King Thorin. Unlike the puffed up old sods on the Broadbeam council, who insisted on their station being venerated despite the fact that no one bloody well had time for that rot anymore.

Before he could reach his destination, though, he was halted by a pair of stony-faced suspicious-looking guards. “I’ve a message for the King.” He told him.

“What message?” The guard demanded.

Bofur blinked, but, well, it wasn’t like it was a secret. “There’s a visitor for him at the Gate.”

One of the guards nodded to the other, and the other one left, heading down the hall, while the other remained in place and kept a gimlet stare pinned on Bofur. There wasn’t anything for him to do except wait, so he leaned against the wall, and started humming an old mining song to keep himself entertained. The guard didn’t relax, even when Bofur pulled out a jauntier tavern song, and then started singing a song that was perhaps not appropriate for the royal quarter.

He was on the fourth verse when the King came into view. The guard grimaced, and gave Bofur a ‘shut up right now!’ sort of look. Bofur stopped singing, but he didn’t stop grinning. Especially since the two Princes, who were a step behind their uncle, both looked to be struggling not to laugh. He offered them a wink, and the youngest snorted into his muffling palms.

King Thorin shot the Princes a reproving glower, and then swept the same look over Bofur. It was very intimidating, and Bofur bowed to get away from it. “Bofur, son of Bomfur, at your service, m’lord.” He offered politely.

“At yours and your family’s.” The King replied, entirely serious, bowing back. It left Bofur a little stunned, if he was being honest. He knew, of course, that King Thorin was good to even the poorest of his people, but that was a level of respect Bofur just about never saw these days. “You said there was a visitor at the gate?” King Thorin pressed on, already setting off past Bofur down the hall and gesturing for the poor surface-dwelling ex-miner toy-maker to walk beside him. “What sort of visitor?”

“A hobbit.” Bofur informed him, and had the distinct honour of being one of the few dwarves ever to see their good King stumble like a wee pebble still taking their first steps.

“Mister Baggins?!” The younger Prince asked in what Bofur could only describe as glee.

Bofur looked over his shoulder at him, grinning again. “Yes, as it happens. He did say he was looking for a friend. You do know him, then?” He asked, feigning innocence as he looked to the King. “Only, I wasn’t entirely sure, seeing as Mr Baggins was very clear he was looking for a simple travelling blacksmith and all. But I don’t think there’s another ‘Thorin’ in these halls, so…”

The younger Prince was howling with laughter, and if Bofur wasn’t much mistaken, their great and noble King was blushing. He had to press a fist to his mouth to keep from joining Prince Kíli in his mirth. “That must have been an awful shock for Mr Baggins.” The elder Prince interjected, his moustache quivering with the laughter he was biting back.

“He did seem a little stunned.” Bofur acknowledged.

“That’s enough.” King Thorin snapped. Bofur did put some effort into repressing his grin, but that was kind of ruined when Prince Fíli sniggered into the ensuing silence. “Fíli.” King Thorin growled.

“Sorry, Uncle.” Fíli offered, not sounding very sorry at all. “But really, he had to be told some time before you present him with your first gift.” Bofur’s eyes maybe bugged out of his head a little bit at that, because that sounded an awful lot like the King was intending to court the fussy little surface-dweller Bofur had left standing outside the gate.

“Yes, I know.” King Thorin huffed, sounding resigned. “I had only hoped to be able to inform him in my own time.”

And there was no denial. Which meant the King was planning to court a hobbit. That was… Oh, that was going to put a raven in the tinker’s shop, and no mistake. Still, Bofur wasn’t an old tradition-bound councillor and, in his opinion, a dwarf could do a lot worse than someone who would go out of their way just to keep your spirits up.

It didn’t take them much longer to reach the gate, because the pace King Thorin had set had been only just this side of eager. The guards standing sentry in the watchtower carved into the mountain either side of the main tunnel opened the gate without needing to be ordered to on seeing the King approach. It took Bofur’s eyes a moment to adjust to the sunlight, and then another moment to find Mister Baggins, because he wasn’t standing on the path anymore. Instead, he’d taken a seat on a boulder not too far off, travelling pack and walking stick leaning against the mountainside beside him.

“Bilbo.” King Thorin greeted, hand raised to shield his eyes from the sun, but not hesitating to step out to greet the little hobbit.

Mister Baggins got to his feet as Thorin approached, and Bofur only then noticed that the poor thing’s feet were entirely bare, because he was digging his toes into the shale and gravel like some kind of living tree attempting to root itself even in stone. Then he cleared his throat, lifted his chin defiantly, and said “Thorin.”

And King Thorin laughed.

Bofur was pretty sure his own jaw wasn’t the only one to have dropped. The two guards shared looks like they were wondering if their ale had been spiked. Everyone in the mountain knew that King Thorin didn’t laugh. By Mahal, he barely smiled. Not that anyone considered it a flaw, as far as anyone Bofur had talked to was concerned, the King had precious little to smile about, so fair enough, really.

“What are you doing here?” King Thorin demanded. “You must have been walking for days…!”

Mister Baggins frowned at him. “Well, yes, a few. But it wasn’t so very different from a walking holiday, really, and I’ve been on plenty enough of those that I knew what I was doing. And I had that lovely map of yours to show me where to go.” He paused, and then peered up at the King’s face intently. “You sounded upset, in your letters, and I rather thought- Well, if you’d lived in the Shire, I wouldn’t have thought twice about popping over to check in on you, and really, it’s not so far to walk. Less than a week, and it’s that far to Bree. Which I haven’t actually visited, mind, but a fair few hobbits do, so it’s not as though I’ve done anything scandalous-”

Bofur couldn’t see the King’s face, because he was facing away from the rest of them, but he didn’t need to, to know that he was staring at the little hobbit in wonder. It was all right there in his voice, when he said; “Thank you, Bilbo.”

“Oh, I- Well, yes.” Mister Baggins stammered, clearing his throat again, before smiling warmly in response. “You’re quite welcome.” He offered, and then promptly shook the moment off with a brisk little sniff. “Now, are you going to make me stand on your doorstep all day?”

“Of course not.” King Thorin said quickly, and turned to usher Mister Baggins into the mountain. The guards stepped smartly into flanking positions either side of the gate and raised their weapons in salute. Putting on a proper show for the first surface-dweller to step inside dwarven halls in- Well, since Erebor fell, probably. Mister Baggins squeaked, though whether in surprise or fright, Bofur couldn’t tell, and though King Thorin nodded respectfully to the guards, his momentary solemnity doing nothing to dim his smile.

“Oh, Fíli! Kíli! Hello! I’m afraid I didn’t see you there.” Mister Baggins greeted as he approached the cluster of dwarves. Bofur edged away, not wanting to intrude, but still a little caught up in enjoying watching someone else’s happiness. The Princes, while clearly not besotted the way the King was, were still clearly delighted to greet Mister Baggins, and were doing so with all the rambunctious enthusiasm of dwarves half their age.

Before he could actually retreat back through the closing gates, though, the King turned to him. “Thank you for taking care of him, Master Bofur.” King Thorin said, still with that fond half-smile on his face. He actually looked a little dazed by his own happiness, which made Bofur grin in sympathy, and maybe a little amusement.

“Oh, it was no trouble, Your Majesty.” He assured him cheerfully.

“If it would not be too much of an imposition, would you be willing to see Mister Baggins home when he wishes to leave? You’ll be paid for your time and trouble, of course.” King Thorin requested.

Bofur maybe gaped at him a little. He was doing a lot of that today, but he dared anyone else to keep their composure better after the day Bofur’s had. “I’d- O’course I’ll do it, but- I’m just a toymaker. Not even a miner, anymore. Wouldn’t you rather send an actual guard for- for someone so important?” He asked, bewildered.

For a moment, the King looked pained, but then he cleared his face, even though his smile looked a little less happy. “The guards are currently stretched rather thin, and I don’t expect there to be any real trouble on the road to the Shire, but Mister Baggins is of a gentle, peaceful folk, and I would feel better if he had someone with a strong enough arm to swing a pickaxe with him.” He paused, and then fixed a steady, intent stare on Bofur that startled him, just a little. “I have no doubt in your skill, nor your honour, Bofur, son of Bomfur.”

“A’right then.” Bofur managed, feeling a little ridiculous for being so flattered at the trust being put in him, but it was King Thorin. He figured that earned him a little leeway. “Yeah. I’ll- Whenever he’s ready to go, just- ah-” Bofur gestured uselessly, in a vague attempt to communicate that he wasn’t going to be busy doing anything that couldn’t be dropped with a few minutes notice.

“We’ll find you.” King Thorin replied, and Bofur felt a laugh bubbling up at the thought of King Thorin dropping by the tiny clumsy surface shack he shared with his cousin.

“What’s this?” Mister Baggins asked, finally released from the Princes, it seemed. “Why will we need to find Mister Bofur?”

“He’ll be escorting you home, once you wish to return.” King Thorin informed him.

Rather than being grateful, Mister Baggins’s face scrunched up in what looked like annoyance. And sure enough, his next words were damn near to a scolding, hands on hips and everything. “I’m not a helpless fauntling, Thorin, I hardly need babysitting-”

“It’s not that I believe you to be helpless, Bilbo.” King Thorin retorted in frustration. Bofur’s shoulders shook with laughter at the long-suffering look on his face. “I’ve no doubt that with a little training, you would wield a blade well enough-”

“A blade?!” Mister Baggins squawked.

King Thorin jabbed a finger at Mister Baggin’s horrified expression. “But that – that right there – is why I’d rather you have someone with you while you go cavorting about in the wilderness! The world is a dangerous place-”

Bofur finally exited the mountain to the sound of the hobbit’s flustered, indignant blustering, and the King’s fondly frustrated retorts. He whistled a jaunty little ditty to himself as he ambled home, marvelling at everything he’d seen and learned today, and the strange little turn his life had taken, just because he’d stopped to give a hobbit directions. Bifur was sure to get a laugh out of this story, sure enough.

#Lord of the Rings #The Hobbit #Thilbo #Bagginshield #Bilbo Baggins #Thorin Oakenshield #Bofur #Fili and Kili #LotR #Not All Who Wander #time travel #outsider PoV #I love me some outsider PoV #I have not gone over this chapter for mistakes as thoroughly as I ought #so please forgive any mistakes I missed

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fyeah-bangtan7 · 5 years

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The Greatest Showmen: An exclusive look inside the world of BTS

Maybe you saw them piled on the klieg-lit couches of Ellen DeGeneres and Jimmy Fallon, trading light bilingual banter with their starstruck hosts. Maybe it was when they spoke solemnly on mental health and self-love at the United Nations General Assembly last September, or when a wall of dolphin-like screams greeted them as they rolled into February’s Grammy Awards in trim matching tuxedos, their hair tinted various shades of pastel macaron.

Or maybe the cover of this magazine is the first time you’ve truly noticed BTS. (Stranger things have happened in 2019.) But it seems indisputable to say that sometime over the past two years, the septet have taken over the world: two No. 1 albums on the Billboard chart in the span of three months; more than 5 billion streams combined on Apple Music and Spotify; a string of sold-out concert dates from the Staples Center in Los Angeles to London’s famed Wembley Stadium.

That hardly makes them the first boy band to dominate a cultural moment, but the fact that they are all Korean-born and -raised, singing Korean-language songs only occasionally sprinkled with English, feels like something brand-new. And it speaks to an unprecedented kind of global currency — one where pop music moves without barriers or borders, even as geopolitics seem to retreat further behind hard lines and high walls.

On a blindingly bright March day in Seoul five weeks before the release of their upcoming sixth EP, Map of the Soul: Persona, the band is holed up at their record label Big Hit Entertainment, preparing. Buildings like this are where much of the magic of the phenomenon known as K-pop happens, though Big Hit’s headquarters on a quiet side street in the city’s Gangnam district (yes, the same one Psy sang about in his 2012 smash “Gangnam Style”) look a lot like any other tech office: sleek poured-cement corridors and glass-box conference rooms scattered with well-stocked mini-fridges, plush toys, and the occasional beanbag chair. Only a display case stacked with a truly staggering number of sales plaques and statuettes, and a glossy large-scale photo print of BTS at their sold-out concert at New York’s Citi Field last October, give away the business they do here.

Down a long hallway, all seven members lounge in various states of readiness as they gear up to pretape a thank-you video for an iHeartRadio award they won’t be able to accept in person. Jimin, bleached blond and pillow-lipped, is having his hair carefully flat-ironed in a wardrobe room filled with racks of coordinated denim and neon streetwear. Dozens of pairs of pristine Nikes and Converse are piled in a corner; a lone fun-fur jacket the color of strawberry ice cream slumps on a hanger behind him, like a neglected Fraggle.

Jung Kook, the baby of the band at 21, sits obediently in a folding chair in the dance studio, also having his hair tended to; J-Hope strides by in a white dress shirt emblazoned with an over-size silk-screen of Bart Simpson, then grins and disappears. Suga, V, and Jin huddle together on low sofas next door, scrolling through their phones and occasionally singing fragments of American R&B star Khalid’s “My Bad.” Twenty-four-year-old RM, the group’s de facto leader and lone fluent English speaker, is the last to arrive.

They run through their speech for a camera crew and do maybe four or five takes until the director is satisfied. Then they settle in for a conversation in an airy break room upstairs, accompanied by their longtime translator, a large, amiable bald man in a business suit named John. (Unless noted, the answers of all members other than RM come through him.) Several weeks after returning from their first Grammys, they’re still riding high off the experience: presenting the award to H.E.R. for Best R&B Album; chatting with Shawn Mendes in the men’s room — “I was like, ‘Do I need to tell him who I am?’ ” Jimin remembers, “but then he said hello first, which was really nice” — and being seated only a sequin’s throw from Dolly Parton. (“She was right there in front of us!” marvels Jung Kook. “Amazing.”)

As happily dazzled as they still seem to be by other celebrities, seeing BTS in the flesh triggers the same disorienting but not unpleasant sense of unreality. On screen, the band can look disconcertingly pretty; avatars of a sort of poreless, almost postgender beauty who seem to exist inside their own real-life Snapchat filters. In person they’re still ridiculously good-looking, but in a much more relatable, boyish way: bangs mussed, even the occasional chapped lip or small (okay, minuscule) blemish. Take away their Balenciaga high-tops and the discreet double Cs of Chanel jewelry, and they could almost be the cute college guy next to you at the coffee shop or on the train.

Except riding public transportation or casually dropping into a Starbucks stopped being an option for BTS a long time ago. In Seoul, their faces are plastered across makeup kiosks and street signs and the sides of buses — even on massive digital billboards that are bought and paid for by private citizens to acknowledge a beloved member’s birthday, or just because. In cities like São Paulo and Tokyo and Paris, fans camp out days in advance for concerts and public appearances, obsessively trading trivia and rumored sightings. When the band posted their takethis link opens in a new tab on Drake’s #InMyFeelingsChallenge, it became the most liked tweet of 2018; this summer, Mattel will release an official line of BTS dolls.

In the still center of this bizarre fame hurricane, the boys have managed to find a few pockets of normalcy. Jimin wistfully recalls a time in Chicago when they were able to slip out of their hotel rooms undetected “late at night, just to get some fresh air.” But most places, he admits, “that’s really out of the question” unless they split into smaller groups. “I mean, look at us,” RM adds with a laugh, running a hand through his own silver-nickel bangs. “Seven boys with dyed hair! It’s really too much.”

Instead, they focus on the things they can do, like sneaking out to the movies (“Always the latest or earliest show,” says RM, if they want to stay unseen), shopping online (V loves eBay, especially for clothes), going fishing, playing StarCraft at home. Group housing is actually common for K-pop stars, and BTS seem to appreciate the shared stability: “We’ve been living together for a while now, almost eight, nine years,” says Jimin. “So in the beginning we had a lot of arguments and conflicts. But we’ve reached the point where we can communicate wordlessly, basically just by watching each other and reading the expressions.”

Though they’re unfailingly polite and attentive in interviews, there’s a certain amount of contained chaos when they’re all together — a sort of tumbling-puppy cyclone of playful shoves, back slaps, and complicated handshakes — but also a surprising, endearing sweetness to the way they treat one another in quieter moments. When a question is posed to the group, they work hard to make sure each one of them is heard, and if someone is struggling to find a word, they’ll quickly reach out for a reassuring knee pat or side hug.

Even with the language barrier of speaking to an American reporter, though, their individual personalities quickly start to emerge: Asked to name their earliest pop memories, the answers land all over the map. “I loved Pussycat Dolls’ ‘Stickwitu,’ ’’ says J-Hope, the group’s most accomplished dancer, snapping his fingers and cooing the chorus. For RM, who started out in Seoul’s underground rap scene, it’s Eminem’s “Lose Yourself.” (“I think that’s, like, a life pick for so many people around the world,” he admits, “but I can’t forget when I first watched 8 Mile and heard the guitars. That was my turning point.”) For Jung Kook, who has released covers of Justin Bieber and Troye Sivan songs, it was Richard Marx’s deathless lite-FM ballad “Now and Forever.”

The soft-spoken Suga cites John Lennon’s “Imagine” as “the first song I fell in love with,” which feels like a fitting gateway to ask where BTS see themselves in the pantheon of musical heartthrobs that the Fab Four essentially invented. “Sometimes it feels really embarrassing when someone calls us a 21st-century Beatles or something like that,” RM concedes. “But if they want to call us a boy band, then we’re a boy band. If they want to call us a boy group, we’re a boy group. If they want to call us K-pop, then we’re cool with K-pop.”

Ah, K-pop. In South Korea, where the genre has become not just a prime cultural commodity but a multibillion-dollar export, the players, known as “idols,” go through rigorous Fame-style schooling in song and dance and media training that often goes on for years before they’re considered ready for the spotlight. And it’s paid off: Business has been booming since the early ’90s, with stars from Girls’ Generation to G-Dragoncrossing over to various markets across Asia, Europe, and the Americas. But while the sound has remained fairly consistent — a canny mix of club-ready beats, hyper-sweetened choruses, and the more urban inflections of Western hip-hop and R&B — it’s never before landed with the lightning-bolt impact of BTS.

Bang Si-Hyuk, the CEO and founder of Big Hit, began putting the band together in 2010, when all the members were in their tweens or teens: RM and Suga were coming up on the local rap scene; Jimin and J-Hope studied dance at performing-arts schools; V, who focused on singing early on, joined officially in 2013. Jin was an aspiring actor recruited off the street for his striking looks; Jung Kook, now the group’s main vocalist, joined while he was still in junior high.

Though fansites tend to lean on their extracurricular differences (Jung Kook is a Virgo who loves pizza! V collects ties and clenches his teeth in his sleep!), each member genuinely does hold a unique space in the group’s process, whether it’s leaning more toward production, lyrics, or the supersize hooks the songs rest on. “With seven members we have seven different tastes, of course,” says RM. “So when it comes to songwriting, it’s like a big competition.” Occasionally, adds J-Hope, “we’ll write a lyric and decide, ‘This sort of reflects me [more], who I am and my own color,’ so we’ll want to keep that for a solo song.”

Because Big Hit doesn’t restrict their right to funnel some ideas into side projects — and because the appetite for more BTS-sourced material online is seemingly unquenchable — members regularly release solo work through EPs, SoundCloud, and mixtapes. But the primary impact still comes through the official album releases, and the particularly weighty subjects those songs take on — a notable departure from the narrow, often strenuously upbeat topics other K-pop artists typically cover.

“I promised the members from the very beginning that BTS’ music must come from their own stories,” says Bang; their subsequent openness about their own struggles with depression, self-doubt, and the pressure to conform took them all the way to the U.N. last fall, where RM addressed the band’s Love Myself campaign and #ENDviolence youth partnership with UNICEF.

“They stand out,” says Japanese-American DJ and producer Steve Aoki, a top-selling global dance artist who has also collaborated with the band on several tracks. “And I’m not just talking about K-pop. They add so much of their personality to the music and into their stories and how they present themselves. And the world has fallen in love with them because they are showing that vulnerable side that everyone wants to see.”

It helps, too, that the group’s more pointed messages are often slipped into the sticky aural peanut butter of anthems like “No More Dream,” “Dope,” and “Am I Wrong.” But they always appreciate the chance, Suga says, to get “a little more raw, a little more open.” RM elaborates: “I think it’s an endless dilemma for every artist, how much we should be frank and honest. But we try to reveal ourselves as much as we can.”

Honesty has its limits, of course, when you’re the biggest band in the world. Asked to describe the new album, due April 12 (at press time, it had already hit over 2.5 million in preorders), members offer up cryptic but enthusiastic koans like “therapeutic” and “refreshing crispness.” To be fair, they can’t say much in part because the new album’s track list isn’t actually finalized yet — late decisions being a luxury of in-house production — though they do agree to play one song, a propulsive rap-heavy banger called “Intro: Persona.” (It was released as a teaser March 27; you can watch the video herethis link opens in a new tab.)

When it comes to more personal questions about the challenges of dating or the goals they might want to pursue post-BTS, they pivot so gracefully to evasive, nonspecific answers, you almost can’t help but be impressed; it’s like watching a diplomat ice-dance. They want you to know that they are incredibly grateful for the devotion of their fans, and so blessed to be exactly where they are; that they really don’t think in terms of five- or 10-year plans. But they turn reflective when the subject of American pop’s holy grail, the Hot 100 singles chart, is raised. They cracked the top 10 last year with “Fake Love” but have yet to reach a higher spot, largely because mainstream radio airplay—a huge component of Hot 100 domination—still eludes them Stateside.

“It will have to be a great song,” Suga acknowledges, “but also there’s a whole strategy that’s associated with getting all the way up. And then there has to be a measure of luck, obviously. So what’s important for us is just to make good music and good performances and have those elements come together.” Does a Spanish-language smash like 2017’s “Despacito” — which spent a record 16 weeks at No. 1 — make them more optimistic about their own odds? “You know, Latin pop has its own Grammys in America, and it’s quite different,” RM says thoughtfully. “I don’t want to compare, but I think it’s even harder as an Asian group. A Hot 100 and a Grammy nomination, these are our goals. But they’re just goals — we don’t want to change our identity or our genuineness to get the number one. Like if we sing suddenly in full English, and change all these other things, then that’s not BTS. We’ll do everything, we’ll try. But if we couldn’t get number one or number five, that’s okay.”

Aoki, for one, has faith they’ll get there. “I think it’s 100 percent possible that a song sung entirely in Korean could crack the top of the Hot 100. I firmly believe that, and I really firmly believe that BTS can be the group that can do that. It’s going to pave the way for a lot of other groups, which they’ve already been doing—and when that happens, we’re all gonna celebrate.”

Back at Big Hit, though, the band has more immediate work to do. RM offers a quick tour of his production room (each member has his own dedicated space on site). The door outside is guarded by a quirky assemblage of figurines by the renowned street artist Kaws, but inside feels, incongruously, like stepping into a tiny, luxurious Sundance lodge that also just happens to have a soundboard: There’s a beautiful coffee table made from a single piece of black walnut; Navajo-style rugs; tasteful art on the walls. RM talks easily about his admiration for producers like Zedd and the Neptunes (“Pharrell Williams and Chad Hugo were my true idols in 2006, 2007. Pharrell’s voice! It’s so sexy, how he sings”), and plays down his own skills (“As a beatmaker, Suga is way better than me. I don’t even know how to play the piano — I just do the chords like this,” he insists, miming keyboard Muppet hands).

Then it’s back to the dance studio, where they’ve changed into track pants and T-shirts to run through new steps with a choreographer. It starts with a rough triangle formation, and an elaborate hip-swivel-into-pelvic-thrust/crotch-grab combo that actually plays much more innocently than it sounds, mostly because they keep stopping to crack each other up. Soon, though, they drill down — repeating the moves until they seem crisp but easy, almost an afterthought. It feels like time to leave them; the boys wave happily, shouting out a rowdy chorus of goodbyes. Then they turn back to the mirror, and keep dancing.

#bangtan #jimin #jungkook #v #suga #jhope #jin #rm #o:interview #190328

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thepageofa1000worlds · 6 years

Text

Pairing: James Conrad x reader Part 1 · Part 2 · Part 3 · Part 4 · Part 5 · Part 6 ·

Synopsis: After having left thing uncompleted and unresolved with James Conrad 3 years ago, you two find yourself again in the kong island. What happened three years ago with you two? How is it that you got to make part of an expeditionary mission?

Song: Ólafur Arnalds- So Far

Warnings: it’s a six part mini-series, this is part to and also its a slow burn.

A/N: btw viktor ( in the gift the one in light blue) is a mood if I were ever stranded on an island.

Words: 3338

“ What about your helicopter? “ Asked Brooks, you sighted.

“ Scatter in pieces along the island “

“ Have you found anyone else?” Questioned Slivko next.

“ Only you six, although my coms did picked someone else, but the battery died before I could ask who”

“It is best if we keep moving” interrupted James. “ We are out in the open and we’re running out of daylight”

He was right as always, the more terrain you all walked in daylight was better and just as you expected he took the lead.

Seeing him made you remember when both of you used to walk around your father’s property while hiding your brother Christmas gifts.

“ So you didn’t catch who it was on the other side of the radio? “ Asked Slivko at your side.

“ For all, I know it could’ve been you,” You said sadly. He sighed.

You were glad that walking wasn’t as painful as you thought it would be, because even if the group had organized itself to match your steps, they were still walking pretty fast.

You were right behind James who after analyzing your wound came to the conclusion that you wouldn’t be able to shot a weapon the size that he had, so instead, you showed him your gun which agreed that it was better than nothing.

Being the only one in the entire group that was wounded noticeably, it was better to keep you in the middle where if anything were to happened people could aid you.

Conrad couldn’t avoid looking occasionally behind him to know that you were right there, the times you catch him you would smile sweetly and he would once again look ahead.

You were looking at the floor to avoid tripping over branches when you felt him stop suddenly, stopping right before crashing with him. Looking around you understood why he had stopped, this part of the jungle lead to something else. James right arm found your waist, making you stay behind his much bigger frame. You didn’t minded, as he had a bigger gun. He slowly moved to examine the place and you followed close by.

You were looking at Mason taking the photograph when her sudden gasp made you look directly to the wall, instantly backing away, movement from behind you made you turn sharply. Seeing those people make the air leave your lungs and you could fell you body popping adrenaline ready to fight.

“ Conrad” you heard Mason said.

“ Stay calm” advice him while raising his gun.

Many of the people in the group had too, all of them raising their guns and making the circle smaller until you could feel all their backs.

“ Guys” you murmured, but to no effect

Mason was now close to you in the middle of the circle that the group had formed. She was the only one that gratefully moved a little not to hurt you. Taking your gun you pointed it to the small space in which Mason was, as she didn’t have a gun herself. The pain that shot through your left arm while raising it reminded you of the wound on your arm.

“ Don’t shot” keep repeating James.

“ Whoa, whoa, whoa,” said someone from the entrance of the strange place. Moments later a man with a long beard and an old military uniform appeared. You exchanged worried looks with Mason through his entire presentation. Hank Marlow, he presented himself, he had been on the island for 28 years, literally your life span. However, the most amazing thing was James’ face as the man was explaining how he had landed in there.

“ You don’t want to be out here at night,” said Marlow.

“ Nether at day,” You said while following, the chuckle that came from James made you look at him strangely.

“ What?” He asked

“ You just chuckled,” You said plainly.

“ Not even in a life or death situation you lose your sense of humour,” he said while offering you a side smile, then his face went back to its original — not so smiley— position. “ Your bleeding”

You examine your bandages and found an even bigger blood spot. You sighed.

“ Tell me something I don’t know”

After finding out that kong wasn’t the biggest nor the scariest monster out there, the idea of there being a way out of the island was like a dream come true, until Conrad was presented with the grey fox.

“ Lovely,” he said with on an elevated level of sarcasm.

“ Damn right,” said Hank at his side.

Conrad could hear your not so silent laughter at his side.

“ Those this thing even floats?” Asked Slivko at your side, you were still laughing.

You kneeled down between Slivko and Conrad, enjoying the story of how Hank and his friend had built the boat out of airplane parts.

“ you’ve gotta be kidding me, this thing looks like its made out of tetanus”

Conrad could hear you laughing, which made him smile too. He had forgotten, how you laughed and the level of sarcasm you handled; He found himself remembering what it was to be with you. How it would be late at night when both of you were near the fireplace, always talking about anything and everything that came. How you two had fallen asleep, you in the sofa and him on the floor near it, while waiting for your brother who swore would not take to long to arrive.

He remembered how Dave had arrived in the morning and try to make both of you move to your rooms, for you to only pull the covers over your head. From the floor, Conrad looked at your form on the edge of the sofa and could only think of how adorable you looked.

After accepting to work on the grey fox he at least got his hopes up on getting off the island.

“ Ok, so we got 48 hrs. To make it to the North shore” He said while looking at Slivko who was meddling with some cables. “ Are you sure you know what you doing?”

“ If I don’t fix this, he’ll disown me,” Said him referring to his dad.

Hearing Conrad explain the Cold War to hank, was one of the most amazing things in the world. He was by no means a teacher nor a historian.

“ Hold the phone there Churchill, Russia was our ally now you're saying we’re at war with them? “

“ It more of a cold war “ Replied James.

“ Like they take the summers off? “ You were at Hanks side and looking at the confusion and disbelieve on James’ face, you cursed that Mason was away with the camera. His eyes locked with yours as if asking if this man was serious.

“ Oh my lord” you expressed still looking at him. A smile spread on your face while trying not burst out laughing once again, as you learned that laughing too much made the wound sting.

It had stopped bleeding but you now had to make sure that it wasn’t infected and that meant, removing the bandages.

It took you some time to clean the wound and the help of Mason to put the bandages back on.

“ Did you take photographs ?” You asked between greeted teeth, because of the pain

“ As many as I could take,” She said while finishing a small knot. “ are you sure this is not dangerous?”

“ It had stopped bleeding not long after you all found me, but in the middle of the panic of being surrounded by them” You made moved your head towards the people “ I raised my gun and my shoulder didn’t like I was trying to keep my self alive”

“ You shouldn’t move it too much” she pointed out.

“ I know” you sighted “ Sadly that's a luxury I can't give myself, everything her seems to try to kill us “

Mason and you walked around the camp, as you accompany her to take more photographs.

“ So, what do you do? “ she asked, “ I mean, how are you in here?”

You were behind her looking at the people gathering for the photo, even if they didn’t talk you could see that they did understand signals.

“ I work for monarch” you explained “ formerly a doctor, I was ascended a couple of years ago” Mason’s face showed how surprised she was of your answer.

“ I didn’t paint you as a doctor, I mean” she stopped to take another photo of a cabin. “ you were the pilot of one of the helicopters and you know how to handle a gun”

“ I was trained,” you said “ Packard was the one who toughs me how to fly and helicopter” both of you start walking back to the place you would be staying, as the sun was setting down. “ He’s my dad’s friend and one time I wake up to see that out of the blue and gonna learn to be a pilot” You both laugh.

“ Out of nowhere?” Asked Mason, with surprise on her voice.

“ The summer before I had thrown the idea but I didn’t though my father would have taken it so literally” She raised her eyebrows.

“ And the shooting?”

“ Oh, that my brother and at the time captain Conrad’s idea”

Mason was observing you, you were maybe two or three years younger than her. Your British accent not as pronounced but still linger in the way you talked. She had seen you on the ship and even presented herself to you while you were on your pilot gear, You’ve been cutting Chapman’s hair while joking of how close was he of turning into sheep. You seem to know the team, but now and then one would ask where had you been.

“ So he toughs you to shoot “ She confirmed.

“ Well, they were both a common occurrence” you looked behind, to the gigantic wall that separated this small village with the rest of the island. “ They would finish a mission and if they had time would come over, once they got into this big competition of who was better at shooting,” You said smiling at the memory. “ My dad made part of it too, and I was a judge” looking at the place you would be staying the night it wasn’t so bad, a little rusty but it serves its purpose.

“ So?” She asked after you went to silence for a little too long. You looked at her and smile.

“ My father won, but I think it was because James respected him too much. After that, they said I could try”

“How was it?” She asked

“ The first time I almost shot my brother as he was explaining about the safety catch” Of how much you laughed you felt the sting on your left shoulder, deciding to watch the sunset you seated near the hole on the wall.

Looking up at the night sky, you felt relaxed for the first time In the day. The Northern lights had appeared and were a spectacle to watch. You could hear people inside the small room talk, yet, your thoughts were raising from one event to the next one. You were seated in the floor looking through the hole on the wall, while Mason put up her equipment.

“ Beautiful isn’t,” She said

“ yes” You whispered.

“ Those it hurt ?” she signalled to the wound

“ Now it doesn’t” You inform

“ I mean we all got out without more than a scratch and you were stab,” she said looking down at you.

“ My luck” you smiled causing her to laugh. After cleaning it up and washing the bandages, you had gotten to the conclusion that it wasn’t infected.

You saw Mason meddling with her camera, but you didn’t hear the small ‘ click ‘ that came when she took a picture. Mason looked at you and raised a small metal tube on her hand.

“ My flashlight broke”

Out of the corner of your eyes, you saw James approach both of you.

“ Isn’t it odd, the most dangerous places are always the most beautiful “

He hadn’t changed much. You had kept him out of your head and heart for so long that when you saw him today at the lake, you didn’t even know how to feel; now with the silence of the night, your thoughts took force.

Three years ago you both had parted ways, but before that, you knew him for years. Your brother had also been SAS, After a hard mission, you brother offered he who back then was Captain James Conrad a stay in your house as they both thought about what had happened.

When arriving home later the same week, you got home from school and found your brother, father and a man you didn’t know, enjoying themselves before the chimney.

You’ve been introduced to you brother’s S.A.S Captain. That had been the first time but not the last, it was strange for Dave to bring things like work at home, as he had decided to keep the family away from danger.

Some months later during the family plus James meeting, they told your dad what had happened during a mission to rescue a small child, illegitimate daughter of a Malaysian woman and British embassy worker, and how everything seemed to have been arranged for them to fail.

Both your father and you had told how they were possibly right about the setup, an illegitimate child would make it to the news if England wanted something it was done. So they possibly wanted to say they had sent S.A.S soldiers but that the mission had taken a sour turn and ended in the death of more than one individual.

Both he and your brother had stayed a couple of weeks, who had gladly lined up with winter break. During his time there, you three would do everything and everything to keep the boredom away.

Returning from memory lane, you notice that Mason had gotten to take her picture with the help of James.

“ I suppose no man comes home from war, not really” You heard James said. you remember how the story of his dad and how he left and never come home.

“ No, they don’t “ You whispered still looking directly at the sky.

Mason didn’t need to be a mind reader to see how Conrad's eyes fixed on you after he heard you. She had also remembered watching how his face went black after he found you on the lake, but his eyes, they showed something else. Deciding that as none of you would take the lead, she would, thanking Conrad she walked to the back of the room to see if you two could at least talk whatever had happened and was still going on.

From the corner of your eye, you saw Mason leave and you turned your head towards her form with a questioning look, she had left so sudden; the look she gave you back was that of someone not amuse, but you couldn’t comprehend what she wanted.

Conrads moved and sat next to you, he had understood the little stun that Mason had played. Giving you space so you could talk.

“ and you, how did you get on all of this ? “ he asked you

You remembered that they say something about people eyes not changing and they were right, looking at his eyes, they hadn’t change a bit in so long.

“ Am part of the team” You said avoiding his eyes.

“ Of whose team? “ There were some things he just couldn’t understand, how had you ended up as a pilot of an all-male team adding to the million questions piling up. He was trying to make eye contact, which you avoided like the plague.

“ Monarch,” said Brooks behind both of you. You turned to see him in the back, offering a thankful smile as he had answered. You rearranged your seating position so that you could face the room, as it seemed they all had questions regarding you.

“ Monarch” repeated James incredulously. He frowned while mirroring your position and facing the room, the northern lights long forgot.

“ Yes, she’s our mission supervisor,” Said San.

“ Mission supervisor“ repeated Conrad at your side

“ Are you okay? “ you asked faking worry, everyone looked at you questionable.

“ Yes, why?”

“ I was thinking you had a concussion, I mean your slower today at processing information” Everyone on the room let out a laugh, even James himself.

“ I just thought you wanted something else” Something about the way he looked at you, made your heart clench inside. You were studying to be a doctor and you remember telling him, the smile that spread through his face, which gave you the courage you needed to really go for it.

“ Well, it seems I will have my personal doctor” he joked that day.

Conrad’s visits in the following years, to your house, increased. With time you got used to calling him James, not long after your brother and he came the first time. You shortly became friends and it surprised you when you were the first he had told his idea of leaving the S.A.S.

“ I finished meds school and got a job not long after on Monarch” you explained “ I got assigned to multiple things and in three years they turned me into the mission supervisor” you shrugged.

“ So you are the one who accepted me into this mission?” Asked Mason, you had omitted that part on your talk earlier today.

“ I liked your job” you smiled at her “ Other than you and my team, I trusted Randa to know what he had to do, he gave me the list of names of people in the mission, I just looked over it but did not read between the lines”

“ Oh, thank you,” Said an offended Victor.

“ I mean” You tried explaining “ I got into a plane so I could get to the departure place and I swear I was too tired”

“ What about me?” Asked Conrad

“ Randa told me he got this guy, a tracker somewhere on Saigon and I just” You shrugged, Conrad frown.

“ You didn’t even know I was coming”

“ In her defence, Randa told me he got the name from a fellow comrade” Said Brook.

“ A fellow comrade ?” You repeated, your brain processing

“ Now whose the slow at the processing of information?” Said James mockingly

“ Still you” you responded seriously, everyone burst out laughing “ Of course, let me guess,” you said, going back to the original topic.

“ Yes,” Said brooks before you finished “ It was Dave”

You remember Dave telling you of Conrad's missions the following years after you said goodbye, he was always the one who wanted you both together the most, after him, your dad was a close contender.

“ Well, I think we better sleep, we should wake up early in hopes to get in time” Said Marlow from where he was.

You followed James to another room, much like the one you had just come from but with more space on the floor and a smaller hole on the wall. You opened your bag and took out your jacket, folding it to make the best made up pillow ever. James sat down right next to you as the rest of the team find their spot in the ground.

“ Thanks” you whispered after a while, so it didn’t bother the rest of the people there, some who were already sleeping.

“ For what?” He was still sitting while you were lying with your head on your jacket.

“ For keeping them save” You singles towards the rest of the team.

“ That's for what you paid me”

“ Still, the circumstances are not what you expected” you offered an apologetic smile. Unable to find sleep, you saw how Conrad lay down, though, he too seemed unable to sleep. You were laying over your Right arm, where you could see James laying on his back.

“ What?” He asked, noticing that you were looking at him.

“ Do you think we’re really getting out of here?” You asked but to the end of the question, your voice was a mere whisper.

Something about the way you had asked let Conrad, to really see how afraid you really were.

“ We will” he whispered.

You stayed awake a little longer, enough to hear when his breathing became even; and somehow knowing he was there lower your anxiousness and let you finally fall asleep.

Masterlist

#james conrad #james conrad x reader #tom hiddleston #imagine #reader #kong skull island #kon #captain James conrad #fluff

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