canter away

anonymous asked:

Can you do one where the Horsemen finds out that their s/o is being abuse by their parents?Maybe seeing the bruises on them?

Okay, so obviously this is a delicate topic, I’ve tried not to make the description of the injuries too specific or graphic, but I hope I haven’t somehow gotten this way out of whack. Prepare yourself for some viscously protective horsemen. xoxo

Death: He stills when he sees the bruises on your back as you pull a shirt down over it, not realising that the horseman had wandered into your room. Damn him and his soft step. Without pause, he reaches for you and lifts the shirt again, prompting a shriek from you as you try to turn around and stop him. But it’s in vain, you pull your shirt but he doesn’t let go, merely glares quietly at your back as if his gaze alone could make the bruises disappear. 

You try to play it off, but nothing slips past Death, and before you can stop yourself, you’ve relayed to him the entire story of what your parents have been doing to you. 

The horseman hisses something vehemently in an ancient language that sounds suspiciously like a human swear word, then lowers your top back over the marks. You turn to face him, suddenly very afraid of what he’s thinking. Death is now staring through you, lost in thought until at last, he blinks and states very quietly and calmly, “You’re coming home with me.” A little confused, you stutter back, “B-but I already am home?” 

Shaking his head, Death pulls you a little towards himself, glaring at your bedroom door as though daring your parents to come strolling through at any moment. “No, this isn’t your home anymore. Get your things. We’re leaving.” 

Now you’re even more puzzled. But he roots around in your cupboard to find a bag, tossing it at you and standing guard at the door. “Death, what-” 

“I’ll not allow you to stay here any longer, I’m sorry.. But this is for your own good.” Part of you is a little worried, you can tell he means business, but you still fear your parents wrath if you leave. And what will you tell your friends? Shaking your head, you start stuffing things into your bag, figuring that you’ll work out the details at a later date, for now, Death is actually willing to take you away from the pain. 

Once you’re packed, you turn to see Death glaring holes through your door, his shoulders are heaving as he breathes heavily and you can hear the leather of his wraps creaking as his fists clench painfully tight. “Death?” You call in a hushed tone. His head twitches towards you and he sighs tiredly, turning to pick you up. Opening your bedroom window, Death leaps down to the ground below, before hitting the earth however, Despair appears in a flurry of sickly green light and the horseman lands smoothly in the saddle. 

It’s probably the fastest, cleanest getaway you’ve ever known. Death spurs Despair off into the night, clutching you close to his chest but being mindful of the marks adorning your back. He hopes that the small gesture adequately portrays that he’s fully prepared to take care of you, and woe betide any who try to take you away from him. 

War: This was a disaster. You’d been so careful, how had War seen? It was the wince, you decided. The wince you’d let slip when your huge horseman friend had nudged you lightly in your side to ask you about a photograph on your dresser. Of course, his sharp eyes immediately picked up on your expression and he backed away a little. “I’m sorry, I’ve injured you…” 

You look up at him hurriedly, scrambling to quash his worry, “No no, War this wasn’t you! It was-” You bite your lip, suddenly aware that you’d almost let slip one of your most guarded secrets. War, ever watchful, scowled, taking another step towards you and letting his hand hover over your side. 

“If not me…” he growled slowly, “Then who?…” 

You bit your lip, eyes flickering between War’s increasingly livid face and your door, beyond which, you can both hear your parents laughing at the television together.

 “If they find out I told you, they’ll kill me.” You hiss urgently at him. But War’s frown only deepens into something much darker. His suspicions all but confirmed, the horseman’s fist collides with the wall behind you, making you give out a small noise of surprise. His head whips towards your door and he begins to make for it, pulling Chaoseater from its hilt. With a gasp, you leap between him and the door handle, spreading your arms wide. “War! No, it’s okay,” you try to insist. “I can handle it, but you can’t hurt them.” 

“Watch me.” he mutters darkly as he goes to step around you, but you follow his movements, blocking him from reaching the door. War eyeballs you for a few, tense moments. At last, to your relief, he relents and sheathes Chaoseater with a disgruntled sigh. “You can’t remain here.” He suddenly claims. At his statement, you give a sigh of your own, rubbing your eyes tiredly. “…I know, War..But what else am I supposed to do?…” You intended the question to be rhetorical, but War suddenly lifts his head up, a determined gleam in his azure eyes. 

“You could come with me.” he suggests, utterly serious. 

You recoil in shock, not at all expecting him to actually offer a suggestion let alone one so generous. Your brow furrows sadly, “War, I’d love to but…I can’t just leave everything behind. My life, my friends, work I-” 

“You would not have to leave your life behind,” War interrupts, “You would simply have a life without this….” He gestures to your side before continuing, “I will take you wherever you want to go. I will protect you when you’re there and then I will take you back to our home.” 

“Our home?” You can’t help but ask.

War nods decisively. “I will give you a home, Y/n. Somewhere far from Earth. You would be safe there….With me.” You find yourself struggling to breathe at his offer, one that could change your life forever. You look up into the eyes you’ve come to love so dearly and think of all the times you’ve daydreamed about staying by his side, forever. 

Quietly, softly, you at last say the word he’s been waiting to hear. 

“…Okay…” 

Fury: She spots the marks as you enter your bedroom after a shower. She’d shown up and let herself in through your window, because honestly? She’d always sensed a very unwelcoming presence from your parents whenever she usually came to visit. 

Fury bolts up from where she’d been lounging on your bed. She clears the space between you in two seconds flat and grasps your wrist, stretching your arm out into the air and peering at the ghastly bruises on your upper arm. You’re startled when she does this, frantically trying to pull your arm back but she shushes you softly and lowers your limb after a minute’s more of scrutiny. 

“Y/n, how on Earth did this happen?” She asks you, a worried frown creasing her forehead. You blanch at her questioning, suddenly tripping over your words trying to find some kind of excuse. Of course, she doesn’t buy it. 

Eventually, she coaxes the truth from you, only after you make her promise not to let them know that you’ve told anyone. Fury’s claws rip into your bedspread as she lets out an impromptu hiss of rage. It’s so uncharacteristic of her to lose her cool that you’re shocked. But this is serious. 

Fury’s eyes narrow as she tries her best to steady her breathing. Finally, she looks at you with a terribly sad expression on her face. “I can’t believe they would do this to you. You!” She exclaims, “You’re such a wonderful person, who’d want to hurt you like this?” She shakes her head miserably, but after a quiet second, she lifts it again, searching for your eyes imploringly. The horseman lifts her hands to grip each of your cheeks and whispers in a hushed tone, “Y/n….I can take you away from here….” she promises hurriedly, “I can keep you safe. But I won’t take you if you don’t want me to…” She says this with an air of dread lacing her tone, hoping against hope that you’ll not deny her this… 

This is all happening so fast. You want to cry at the prospect of rescue but at the same time you’re so afraid that something will go wrong. But….

“Do you trust me?” Fury suddenly asks, stroking your cheek lightly with her knuckles. 

Do you trust her? You think for a moment.. .Has there ever been a time when you didn’t trust this horseman? When you wouldn’t lay down your life on the line for her? You’d spent the entire apocalypse putting your life in her gentle, but powerful hands so why not do the same thing now? 

You look up at her with your mouth turned into a grim line, nodding once. 

Fury’s face breaks out into a relieved smile and she glances around your bedroom. “Grab what you need.” She whispers, “We’ll sort out essentials some other time, for now. Just bring what you can carry.” You go about the room picking up some bare essentials. Toothbrush, spare clothes, phone, laptop, etc. When you’re ready, you turn to her and nod once again. She sighs gladly and there’s a flash of purple light from outside your window, reminiscent of a lightening strike and a soft whickering from outside lets you know that she’d just summoned her spectral steed.

Fury gathers you to the window, “I wish you’d told me about this sooner…” is all she says as she eases you down into the horse’s saddle.  

“Me too..” You mumble, leaning back against her warm body as she settles in behind you. The horse starts off at a brisk trot before flicking it’s head and bursting into a fast canter away from your home. Away from your parents. “Are you ready for a new adventure?” Fury calls into your ear above the wind whipping past. 

Despite your previous trepidation, you find yourself smiling cheerfully. 

“With you, Fury. I wouldn’t miss it for the world.”

Strife: Your parents are unfortunate enough to be in the room when Strife notices your bruises. 

The horseman is sat next to you on the sofa, his head leant back against his crossed arms whilst your parents sit uncomfortably on the other chairs. You’re leaning up against Strife’s side. Buried safely into him, you find yourself lost in thought. 

You’d been so sure that having a horseman as a friend, your parents might stop treating you so cruelly, but you’re just not that lucky… 

“Whatcha thinkin’ about squirt?” Strife chirps, suddenly breaking you from your thoughts by squeezing your side with one of his arms. You can’t quite stop the pained “Ouch!” that jumps from your throat before you know it. You and your parents freeze, you with a look of sheer terror on your face and they with enraged expressions adorning theirs. But Strife looks puzzled, “What was that?” he asks. 

Strife has always been reminded by you time and again exactly how hard he had to squeeze you before it became painful. He’s now acutely aware of your pain tolerance and what he just did? That should not have made you go ‘ouch’.

Suspicious, Strife turns to face you full, catching the look of horror on your face and then turns to see your parents hurriedly smoothing their own features and turning back to the television, pretending that nothing was out of the ordinary. A dark scowl makes it’s way onto the horseman’s face as he slowly turns his eyes down to you. “What…was…that?” He breathes, dangerous and low, sharp eyes narrowing. 

You go to answer, but he doesn’t actually give you the chance. Strife pins you against the sofa cushions, grabbing one side of your pyjama top, he lifts it carefully, aware of your parents rising to their feet behind him. He nearly stops breathing at the side of branded fingers littering your side. Snarling ferociously, Strife whips his head around to look at your parents. 

“The Hell is this?” He bellows, clearly indicating your exposed skin whilst you struggle to tug your top from his grasp. Your parents hiss at him angrily.

“That is none of your business.” One growls. 

“Like Hell it ain’t!” The horseman shouts back. You whimper at the sudden threat of your parents looming over Strife. But you really needn’t have been so worried. 

It seems, that even your parents had become rather complacent around Strife. They were so used to seeing him being friendly and gentle with you, they seemed to have forgotten that he is, in fact, still very much a Horseman of the Apocalypse, and perfectly capable of tearing them apart, should he see fit. 

Strife suddenly stands up, growing to his full, imposing height, head almost brushing against the ceiling as he rests his hands threateningly on Redemption and Mercy. He positions himself in order to completely block you from view when he faces your parents, who’re suddenly looking far less intimidating. Strife growls in his throat before loudly exclaiming, “Now, I’m taking Y/n here with me, and I don’t wanna have to shoot you in front of your kid, so I suggest you back up and let us walk…” 

“You can’t do that!” One of them exclaims nervously, “That’s kidnapping! W-we’ll call the police!” 

Strife lets out a bark of dark laughter, “Oh yeah!? Well go ahead then tough guy. I’m sure they’d looove to hear about what you’ve been doin’ to my friend here.” With that, Strife turns with abrupt gentleness and lifts you into his arms, whispering, “S’okay. I gotcha...M’not gonna let em hurt you anymore...” 

Your parents don’t make a move to stop him as he strolls out of your old home,  precious cargo in his arms. 

Imagine Ivar VS you (Part 4)

Summary: After a week of marriage … you still can’t stand your own husband despite he maked you feel different. But approaching battle could just change all of that.
Words: 2223


Marriage … you hated marriage. He got under your skin and you got under his. One way or another you got each other angry more often than you liked. Playing it for the people was harder than you suspected it to be. But now you where both preparing for battle you didn’t had to show off to the people like you had to do just after you married. Ivar manipulated you in ways he always got the better of the deal and it wasn’t always something you truly regreted. But being married to a viking, certainly when it was Ivar The Boneless, had his perks. At least you had one common ground, you both loved to go to battle and when you both where together discussing battleplans your advisors started to accept him as the king of this kingdom. Offcourse Ivar had to get that on point every day again and again. After a week of marriage nobody liked him, not even you and he still acted like the spoiled brad he was when you captured him … maybe you should kept him down there and worked out something else to safe your kingdom.
‘Let me guess, you are thinking of ways to kill me.’ He pulled you out of your thoughts. You lifted your chin from your hand and looked aside to him, his amused grinn annoying you.
‘Something like that.’ You murmured, looking back before you, waiting for the scout to come back, or for someone who could safe you from him and this dress.
‘And?’ He asked curious, leaning in on you from out if his chair. You turned your head, looking into those sharp bleu eyes who closed into you.
‘I didn’t decided,’ you felt silence, the corner of your mouth slipping up a bit. ‘yet.’ You followed. Taunting each other half the time make dit mostly barable to be around each other.
‘Hmm.’ He looked down to your lips before gazing back up to your eyes.
‘You don’t want to kill me?’ You asked him right back. He tilted his head as an reaction.
‘Why would I want to kill my wife?’
‘Maybe because you want to take over my kingdom?’ You suggested. It was like that idea popped up for the verry first time, his eyebrows got up and he looked back at you surpriced. After a week you could tell when he was lying or not, now he faked it all.
‘Maybe I just like the way you act around me.’
‘That’s just it,’ you closed a little more in to him. ‘an act.’ You wanted to get up but he wrapped his fingers around your throat, pulling you back in your position earlier, squeezing it tight. You clenshed your teeth together, frustrated about his dominance. But it had something else to it to, something desirable. You looked over his face, feeling his warm breath temping your skin. He didn’t force you, he just maked that ultimatum again. You passed those last few inches and kissed him. No tender, no love, just a raw heated kiss.
‘My queen.’ Somebody announched. You pulled away and turned around to the scout hessitating in the doorway of the throneroom.
‘And your king, or did you miss the fact I’m sitting here.’ Ivar pointed out. You rolled your eyes, smiling more friendly to the scout than you ever would do for him.
‘My king.’ He greeted Ivar not so enthusiastic like he did for you.
‘What news?’ You asked. The scout looked away from Ivar, pointing all his attention to you.
‘The army is approching.’ He announched. You nodded and looked back aside to Ivar.
‘Suit up prince charming, you got a war on your hands.’ You faked a smile before getting up, facing this threat as the queen you father wanted you to be, with a sword and an army.

You felt like your old self again, before you got that crown, before your father died. You felt invincible when you suited up with that armor, shoving your sword in your belt. You felt confident, ready for battle, ready to win that kingdom of yours his freedom. When you walked over the courtyard it was a mess of soldiers between vikings. Ivar crawled up to his chariot, all serious and concentrated. When his eyes fell on you he frowned, surpriced, impressed, drawn to maybe, by how fierce you looked. You commander approached and bowed for you.
‘Do we have a plan of attack?’ He asked you. You looked shortly over to Ivar who stilled looked at you, focused about what you were talking about. You gestured your commandor to follow you to the chariot. This wasn’t a game to play, there wasn’t any time to taunt him by keeping some secrets. You needed to work together, for the first time since you where married.
‘They don’t know I’m married.’ You began.
‘Surly somebody will spilled that detail through.’ Ivar reacted. You looked up to him and shook your head.
‘Our kingdom is builed on growing his own life supports, we don’t need to trade. The only ones leaving this kingdom are my scouts.’
‘Our?’ Ivar asked, a little surpriced.
‘You are king, right?’
‘Yes but … nevermind.’ He shook his head, a little satisfied before he went further on the subject.
‘If it is true, and nobody know we can take an advantage of that.’ Your commandor noticed.
‘I attack from the front, you from behind, get them surrounded and win.’ You suggested, looking up to Ivar who nodded slowly.
‘Nice thinking woman.’
‘You aren’t the only one with a bright mind a many victorious tales.’ You reacted on his little sarcasme.
‘You really turn me on with all of this.’ He pointed out your heavy talk and nice outfit. You chuckled, not really meaning any of it.
‘Can you bring your men around that army without being noticed?’ You asked him. His smiled darkened and he nodded.
‘I will, blow two times when you are attacking.’ He gave you a horne and you took it over, looking down to it.
‘Good, than go. I see you on the battlefield.’
‘I will ready our men.’ You commandor said, walking away to prepare your army to marched out. You looked after him before you turned back to Ivar.
‘Don’t get killed on that battlefield.’ You advised him.
‘Is that your way of saying I need to be carefull?’ He joked, leaning over the egde of his chariot towards you. You closed in, placing your lips on his.
‘I want to kill you someday, so, just be safe now.’ You whispered, lips still lingering over each other. That devilish grinn came on his lips when he pulled back.
‘You to my queen.’ He said, more sencere than he ever was, before he kicked his reins against his horse and it started to walk, his man following him into battle, your battle.

The battlefield strechted out before a forest. The enemy was large, larger than the army you had of your own. Knowing that Ivar his man lurked from behind those trees you weren’t that afraid of losing anymore. You horse couldn’t keep still while your men formated behind you. ‘You shouldn’t be here.’ Your commandor advised you. You looked aside, pushing your helmet on your head.
‘This is my fight more than it is yours.’
‘You’re the queen, what if you get killed?’ He asked. You gazed over the army, to the calvalry of your enemy standing ready for attact.
‘Ivar will take over then.’ You reacted.
‘You can’t believe he is giving about that kingdom?’
‘No, but I’m sure he will be fierce in defending it. A kingdom that doens’t fall keeps living. Ivar lives for fighting. You will be in good hands.’
‘I hope you won’t die then.’ He signed. You chuckled amused, taking the horn in your hand when you started to see the army moving towards you.
‘Let’s pray for the best.’
‘God be with uss.’ The commandor said, making a little cross over his own heart. You leaded your horse away, canter by your army that stood awaiting orders while the enemy approuched.
‘Corner them up, surround them, we don’t die today because tomorrow will be brighter.’ You yelled for all your men to hear. They baldered and you brought the horne to your mouth. Do you were afraid that Ivar wouldn’t react on those two blasts? No, one week of marriage gave you just enough to trust him. But more than else you trusted his rage more. You sounded that horne to time before you drew you sword and pointed it to the army.
‘Attack!’ You commandor shouted out. Your horse reared a bit before he started to move. And when you army started to move you saw that forest came to live, vikings running out of it while you leaded the left side of your army to the left flank of the enemy while the commandor did the same at the right. The closer you got to that army, the more you felt the adrenaline take over your body. Your horse his hooves catched more ground, in front of your army you were the first on to kick into the enemy. Your sword got his first taste of blood. The horses clashed in to each other, sounds of iron against iron heated this fight with his first deads. You got your horse through the cavalry, your sword chopping into the enemy. And when you past the riders you came in contact with the soldiers on foot causing your horse to tremble his way over them. The vikings approached from the other side, causing panic within the enemy as that wall of shields kicked in. His white horse caught your eyes, Ivar looked more dangerous than you ever saw him before. You ducked underneath a spear, grabbing it and pulling your enemy from his horse on the ground, killing him with his own weapon. Everything turned in between, the red signature flags of your army combined with the green onces of your enemy. Ivar his men ruthless cutting their way through all the green there was to find. In the little overvieuw you got you knew … you would win this battle. When you turned your horse around you saw how the enemy caught up with the multitasking Ivar needed to do. It was different fighting for him than it was for you. You kicked your legs in the flanks of your horse, pushing him forward. Withing your gallop you reached for a spear that stuck out of a dead body on the ground. You pulled it out, turned it in your fist and trew it to a soldier planning on killing that horse of Ivar so he wouldn’t have a change of moving again. You took your sword in your right hand and past his chariot, taking all the men with you on that side. You turned around a little futher, pulling out your helmet so your light braided hair fell over your shoulders.
‘Wife.’ He greeted you. You killed a soldier aside you and jumped from your horse, kicking your hand against his butt so he would run of to safity.
‘Needed some help there?’ You asked him, panting. Ivar trew his axe, hitting somebody right between the eyes.
‘I can handle myself.’
‘Sorry for asking.’ You began to fight again. Being a girl gave you a certain grace into battle, making the killing looked swifter, almost dancing. You killed more than he possible could from on his chariot. You kicked a soldier down, placing your swordtip on his throat. You looked over your shoulder to Ivar who was looking at you in a way you never saw him looking before. You smiled darkened in the same way his did when your pushed down your sword, killing the enemy underneath you feet. And that was, after minutes, hours the end of it. You pulled your sword out and looked over the battlefield covered in bodies. Not only the enemy but also  vikings, your men. You tried to steady your breathing while you shoved your sword away in your belt. The commandor approached, pulling a man behind him and you recognized him in an instant, the prince of the enemy. You gave Ivar a short glare before looking back.
‘My king and queen, the prince.’ The commandor announched, trowing the prince at your feet.
‘You married a pagan?’ He spitted blood on the ground.
‘No, I married Ivar The Boneless.’ You reacted on that. Ivar wasn’t any viking, he was lickely the best of them.
‘Never underestimate a woman, or better, a queen. It could get you killed.’ Ivar said on a low promesing voice. You pulled your sword, turning it to Ivar who still sat on his chariot.
‘You want to do the honors?’ You asked him. He smiled and shook his head.
‘All yours my queen.’ He said. Something changed in the looks you changed with each other. You gazed into his bleu eyes before turning to the prince grabbing him with his shoulder.
‘By my god and the gods of my husband, I sentence you to death.’ And you slitted his throat, followed by the balder of your reunited armies. Not only did you win this battle that endangered most of your childhood, but you won also a new alliance. But more than everything, you won the respect of the great and powerfull Ivar The boneless.

The End

So I’ve been practising for my eq test a little...

Yesterday, my trainer invited me to a spontaneous jumping lesson. On the speedy mare.
Mind the fact that I have jumped less than 10 fences and haven’t even had a jumping lesson more than twice. And one of these times, I fell off the speedy mare. Who - ironically - was to be my ride.

My trainer and I set up some jumps at the path right beside the motorway. And by “right beside”, I mean 15 meters from the street. She needed help because a smol horse bucked her off and her knee - which has been in need of a replacement for like 10 years - kinda popped out of its place, lel.

Then we rode there and I told my trainer that I was sorry that she would have to remember this beautiful day in May as the day I died and she actually got nervous and asked me if I didn’t want to wear a back protector, but of course my dumb ass declined, hahah.
I asked the other girl - who rode the moose, my former lease horse - if she wanted to go first. But she didn’t.

So I kinda reluctantly pushed the speedy mare forward, and she went into a nice, well-controlled trot. I was still sitting there like “fuck - fuck - fuck”, though. Got over the jump fine. She didn’t go too early or slow down or anything, we just hopped over it nicely. Although of course I was feeling terrible. The jumps were like 50cm, and she’s an ex jumper, so they were but a lame joke to her, lol.

Which meant she needed to spice things up a bit. Rode a turn, took the second jump - mare took off earlier than expected, I was left behind, then nearly landed on her neck, but kinda managed to stabilise and slow her down.
Halted, turned around, tried to ride the same combination again. Speedy mare went into a canter right after turning, took off approximately 5m before the small jump and landed 10m after it. Nearly lost a stirrup, but hung on. Second jump, same game. But I was prepared for an earlier-than-scheduled take-off and managed to somehow, kind of move with her, leaving me with a decent feeling.
She got fairly headstrong as we cantered away from the jumps, but I managed to talk and slow her into a trot and eventually halted her near the grass, where I let her graze. Only then did I notice that my heartrate was probably at an unhealthy level and I was breathing heavily. I just didn’t know what to expect from jumping, and - knowing the speedy mare - I was kind of afraid of not being able to stop her after the jumps; She has the tendency to gallop off with shitty riders like me, hahah.

Anyway, the other girl started driving the moose forward, but the big boy didn’t want to play. He stood there, reared, turned around, kicked out with one of his hindlegs; Seriously, he looked like one of those mechanical rodeo cows, just much more gangly and a little less abrupt.
So of course the girl became afraid, didn’t manage to make him go on, and my trainer let me do another round with the speedy mare. This time, we flew around the course, I barely managed to slow her down on the turn, and probably made the 50cm fences look like 1.5m water jumps. But I felt my position become a little bit more secure and managed to slow her down alright as we came back. I was so glad I survived.

Then we swapped mounts. The other girl - now on the speedy mare - didn’t even manage to pop the red monster over the rails, though. Eventually, my trainer chased them over one fence and they managed a full round.
The problem: She was unable to stop the horse as she came towards me from the last fence. My trainer yelled to me to block the path somehow, and I managed to urge the moose into her running way, so she slowed to a trot and wiggled around us and eventually went into a walk. Nothing happened, but the girl’s knees were weak and her hands shaking, either way.

So I got my turn on the moose. Sent him forward. He started his usual game that he had played with me when I was leasing him and he didn’t want to leave the property. Kicking, half-hearted rearing, canter pirouettes, head shaking, snorting, bouncing, the whole program. I kept waving the whip at his side and once accidentally scolded him “Attila!”, lol.
Then we finally managed to go for the first fence. We were supposed to take it in a trot, but he was cantering slowly and I thought: “Well, better to go over it in a canter than to hold him back now.” So I just went with what I got and he went over like a champ.
Had a hard time slowing him to a trot at the turn, then he caught the next fence in his eye and went boom. Long, flowing stride, ears forward, head down. I slipped the reins and leaned forward a bit, brushing the side of his neck, and right over we went.
Halted, turned around. Different horse, same problem: Hopped into a canter - although a less bouncy one - from a standstill, zoomed towards the obstacle. Didn’t go over it very well, but it was alright. Took the last one, slowed him down, let him graze.

Trainer told me to turn around and go for another run. This time the moose didn’t protest as much, we wiggled towards the jump at the trot, got over it fine, though. He didn’t let me slow him to a trot on the turn again, and there are some rocks on the inside of it, so we added an extra jump over those that made my trainer think we had fucked up completely, haha.
Anyway, the next jump went very well. I was actually able to sit down deep before the jump and moved my hands forward instead of just letting the reins slip and had a great feeling, basically. Like I was actually jumping instead of hanging on like an idiot.
Turned around, went over them again, had a decent feeling, although we went way too fast, lol.

I was dead after all that excitement and holding myself in position over these few jumps, but I’m glad I didn’t die and I’m starting to feel like jumping might be a fun thing to do after all.

Stolen Hearts

Happy Birthday to my BAE proudtobeaginger!!!!

Happy Birthday Halie, I love you so have some Western Bandit AU~ I know it’s a bit early but who doesn’t loooove early presents?!

Part II   Stolen Night

“Cough it up, I ain’t got all day!” The man with a mop of pink hair snarled, wagging his Smith and Wesson barrel under the nobleman’s nose. The sun beat down on both of them like an angry mother with a rolling pin, but he had no problem with the heat. The dust getting into his nose whenever he breathed wrong, however, was a problem.

The red bandanna covered most of his lower face from recognition, but his infamy seemed to proceed him. The pudgy little nobleman swallowed thickly, globs of sweat and oil trickling down his paling skin as he stuttered, “Y-You’re Etherious Natsu, the ruthless b-bandit of these parts.”

Without waiting for confirmation, he looked past Natsu, towards the black haired man currently disposing the body of the carriage driver in a rattlesnake’s nest, eyes wide and hazed. “A-And that must be The B-Black Wizard Zeref, Murderer of Towns.”

With a wicked grin, Natsu leered down at his bound prey, using the gun to tap a rhythm he heard in a pub a few towns back on the poor man’s temple. With every downbeat, the captured man whimpered and flinched.

Taunting the prisoner was fun and all, but Natsu had an inkling that a patrol would be along any time now and witness the carnage here. The overturned carriage was his own fault, yes, but the dead steeds and carriage driver was all Zeref’s fault. His brother never really knew how sharp his shooting was: intentional or not.

This interrogation had to hurry up.

“Listen you cur, I want your cash and I want it now! So fork it over before my fingers slip.” To emphasize his seriousness, he pulled the trigger and let a bullet fly past the nobleman’s ear and into the belly of the wagon.

The guy’s eardrum burst and he howled with fresh tears.

“Natsu, keep calm and just grill him. I’ll ride ahead and keep watch. Meet me when you are finished.” His brother called as he returned from his corpse disposal, patting dust off his gloves and rubbing under his nose. “And try not to shoot him before he tells you where his stash is.” The older man added with a dark tone.

The pink haired bandit snorted and rolled his eyes, but his spine still shivered under his older brother’s glare. Zeref was pretty calm most of the time…unless they lost out on a heist. He made a mental note to make sure every last gold piece was collected as to avoid the already souring mood.

“Aye, sir. Count on me.” He murmured mostly to himself, watching as his brother mounted his horse and began to canter away down the dusty trail, leather satchels filled with supplies bounding with every lope.

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o p e n

  She’s not usually out in the orchards this time of year, when it’s cold and there’s snow on the ground, but the castle had become to suffocating, with her family and the servants and the hounds and visiting lords and she’d needed to get out. Angus snuffles the ground by her side, looking for grass, but there’s only snow and hard dirt now.

  A strong gust whips through the bare trees and she hurriedly tugs her fur-lined cloak tighter about herself. She’d packed food into her saddlebags— enough for a week or more, if she hunts. She hadn’t even intended to at first, but it seemed like the right sort of time for a trip. She’d left a note, though she’d sure her mother and father will still be horrified.

  It’s not stifling out here, not like at home. It’s more of a relief than she expected it to be. She glances back at the castle one last time, and then sets her foot in the stirrup and hoists herself into the saddle. For a moment, she hesitates— but then urges Angus to a canter away from her home. They ride, and camp, and ride again, for days and days, until she doesn’t recognize anything anymore and she’s somewhere entirely new.

  She steps quietly, carefully into the rows of houses— it’s late, the stars are out in the cold, clear sky, and she’s in a strange village. She wonders if there’s an inn for her to stay in— if not, she’ll just camp again.