eye of the raven

Connected (Ch. 1)

Summary: The start of Ian and Mickey’s friendship as kids.

Word Count: 1238

Notes: I got this request in my messages! It’s a multichap fic where they start off as best friends and fall in love :) I’m already working on Ch. 2, shouldn’t be much longer!

Being that it was the start of a new school year, Fiona encouraged all of her siblings to try and make new friends this year. Making friends had never really been a strong suit for the Gallagher family, mostly because of their psychotic nature, but it was always worth a shot.

Ian was sitting on the floor with crayons in his hand and a coloring book in his lap when the second grade class walked in. He waved to Lip, and then turned his head to see the boy next to him. He was a short boy with raven colored hair and sky blue eyes. The boy didn’t look to friendly, but Ian was still intrigued.

Mrs. Gunter, who was Ian’s teacher, called the second grade class down to give the first graders a bit of an orientation being that it was the first day of school. All the kids were rowdy though, so the teachers quieted them by making them sing the school alma mater. They started the song, but the teachers had to cut is short because a certain student wasn’t participating.

Mrs. Gunter and Ms. Rex made their way over to the little dark haired boy that Ian was previously looking at. His scowl became even colder as the teachers squatted down to his level. “Mikhailo—” Ms. Rex started, but the boy cut her off.

“It’s Mickey,” he spat as he crossed his arms.

Keep reading

Sabrina Seabreeze

Lilac skin, dark aqua eyes,

Raven blue blush hair,

Purple Celtic tattoos serpentine and square.

She moves as her name indicates,

With light smooth moves and grace.

Flowing robes of deep blue green and black magenta,

Professor of Elemental Magic,

At the University of Magic Centre.

Consultant to Skulduggery Pleasant,

Expertise to dispense to the detective.

Battles against those of ill will,

Using her silver crescent,

Shield of steel,

Fairy tale Diana bow and arrow.

Powerful weapon of cupids bow,

To keep back the flow,

Of the criminally evil.

Taking them down, in a row.

She may be petite, but is not slow.

Yoda fast and wise as witches go.

Feels the fear but is brave also.

That’s who I would be –

In an alternative reality.

- Lisa Lopresti

The Westmoor Tragedies | Part 1

Rough crinkling of parchment filled the air as Rodarin shuffled through the various stacks and disheveled piles of documents atop his desk. A rugged hand reached up to glide his fingers through curled locks of brown hair, a deep sigh escaping his lips–a mixture of frustration and fatigue. The flames of various candles began to flicker in unison as the stilled air of his makeshift office was disturbed by the opening of his door. A fair-skinned woman with raven-black hair and a gentle eyes soon peeked into the room, offering a weak–almost apologetic–smile to the main. “It’s nearly midnight.. Are you coming to bed soon?” His chair groaned lightly as the man turned, offering a slightly-forced smile in return to his wife, Sarina. “Yeah. Couple more minutes, love.” She lingered in the door for a few moments longer as she watched her husband turn back to the papers he studied, her weak smile slowly faltering to a more worrisome expression. Nonetheless, she took her leave, the gentle thump of the door signaling Rodarin’s privacy.

A tired slouch returned to his posture–his facade was becoming tiresome to portray. His gaze swept over the various stacks of parchment towards the farther corners of his desk. Articles, written accounts, sketches, photographs, his own notes–cases he had either solved or aided. Roadarin was an investigator, his experience ranging from queries of petty theft and cheating spouses, to assisting the Guard when they were stumped. Some were even solved out of personal interest. As Rodarin’s gaze fell back to the small pile of documents resting before him, his brow pulled in frustration. This was the best of both worlds–a contract made with investigative branches of both the Guard and SI:7 for differing reasons, and the more he learned, the more it gnawed at his mind. He was curious–too damned curious.

Eagerly, he shifted through the papers once more, studying the articles that had been brought to him. A copy of a statistical report from the Guard, showing sudden and drastic spike in missing children reports, and even more coming in from various sources. It wasn’t limited to Stormwind, nor the surrounding areas. It was everywhere. Eastern Kingdoms, Kalimdor–even so far as the orphanages of Shattrath. There was seemingly no discrimination as to race or location.

As Rodarin continued through the pile, the documents became more and more recent, and more violent. Murdered parents, with their children missing. Reports of children leaving for the forests, and brutally attacking Guardsmen who try to stop them–some of them even being confirmed missing children, and search parties unable to locate them afterwards. The final folder within the pile was the latest to date, one that filled Rodarin with unease. The Westmoor Orphanage Massacre. 

Seven caretakers dead, horribly mutilated. An elbow thumped against the table as his forehead leaned into his palm in effort to lean closer, a sour taste in his throat as he studied the photographs of the crime scene. The caretakers were completely unidentifiable within the photographs–the only way the Guard did in the first place was due to the work schedule. Their torsos were all split down the middle, their insides completely cleaned out to be strung throughout the orphanage. Their heads were missing, and as yet have not been found. Their arms and legs had been scratched down to the tendons, and three had their legs broken to splinters–it was Rodarin’s assumption that these three had tried to run away.

The most chilling aspect of any of this, however, was the location. Westmoor–the village nestled between Elwynn and Westfall he and his family had lived in for many years. He remembered it clearly, not even a month having passed since–the screams of panic when the scene was discovered, and the stench of rotten flesh and dried, caked blood that wafted from the building days afterward during the preliminary investigations. Not a single orphan was accounted for–all forty-three of them were now listed as missing, though the entire village suspected the worst. The Guard wanted answers for the growing fear of citizens, SI:7 held suspicions for terrorist or even cultist activity. Rodarin, however, feared for his own son and daughter, and planned to protect them the only way he knew how–by solving the case.

    to be ̹̦͍c͕̫̼͎o̫̻͙̖n͚̻̻͎t̜̩͖̻͎̗i͉̯͚̬̬̙̤n͎̙̱̰u̲͎̥͙͍̰̜e̟̮͎̫̩̺̗d̹͖


they’re all sweaty and gross after training but they still find the time to be cute

U don't know who Riley is???

R u kidding me. Riley…. How do I even begin to explain Riley. Riley is flawless. He has two weed stashes and a hydrogenerator. I hear his hair’s insured for $10,000. I hear he does car commercials…On the Ground. One time he met Clarke in Farm Station…And she told him he was pretty. One time he punched me in the face. It was awesome.

The signs as anime eyes:


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body guard | jughead x reader

Originally posted by kylogue


anonymous said: hey, i’d like to request a jughead x reader where jughead is like super protective over the reader. like he walks with her in school. sits with her in pop’s. the reader is never out of his sight (only when she’s home). and the reader doesn’t really mind, bc there’s a killer in the town and stuff. and it’s kinda hot thank youu^^

“you do know you don’t have to follow me everywhere i go” you joke as you start your journey from riverdale high to the infamous pop’s chock'lit shoppe, jughead hot on your heels

but let’s face it, when wasn’t he? you’d grown up in neighbouring trailers and he was always so over protective of you, he’d walk you to and from school, to pop’s, to the drive in. everywhere.

you loved it, he was your best friend and essentially one of the only friends you had. jughead had been transferred to southside high but it didn’t stop him for walking you to and from school, no matter what.

“you’re not my bodyguard yanno?” you tease earning an eye roll from the dark and broody raven haired boy.

“there is a killer on the loose yanno” he pokes back stuffing his hands into his jacket pockets, a famous jones smile hanging off his lips.

“see that excuse expired a week ago- the killers been found and put away. i don’t need a security detail anymore”

you can see the clogs turning on his head trying to come up with a witty response to your playful banter

“maybe i just like to be sure that a beautiful lady like you gets to her beloved diner in one peace” he smiles sweetly nudging your shoulder with his own

“oo smooth jones, but unfortunately not smooth enough. this girl can look after herself” you smirk spinning around on your hells, the ice seemingly a lot more slippery than you anticipated

next thing you know your put on your ass, the cool snow melting through your jeans. you cuss and let out a muffled groan as you glance up to see a smirking jughead.

“oh i can defiantly see that mrs slick” he jokes offering you a hand up, you hesitantly grab his hand as he pulls you up off the cold ground.

“damn it!” you exclaim feeling the wetness on your butt, “my damn butt is soaking wet now great!” the boy goes red trying to suck in laughter

“it can’t be that bad, turn around” you huff turning letting the boy free range at staring at your butt

damn” he mutters, you spin around quickly trying to get a good look yourself “what! is it that bad? you panic

he licks his lips shaking his head “oh no defiantly not i think it looks rather-” he pauses “peachy”

you turn and smack his chest “stop it you perv”

he places his hands up in defensive, wincing at your contact on his chest “first of all-ouch” he pause and you roll your eyes

“oh please i barley touched you-” he narrows his eyes at you silencing you as you allow him to continue.

“second of all you asked me to look- so i was just admiring what you were so gracefully born with” he argues a smirk etched onto his face.

“you owe me a milkshake jones” you complain

“because i proved you wrong or checked out the goods” he comments as we continue toward the diner

“now that you mention it, milkshake and fires” you smirk batting your lashes at the boy as you use your back to push open the door.

“would you look at that you holding the door open for me, how very twenty first century of you (y/l/n)”

“add a burger to that order, ill grab us a booth” you yell to the beanie boy as you slip into your normal booth waiting for jughead to slide in opposite you

“you’re going to make me go into bankruptcy” he mumbles as he slides in next to you, catching you off guard.

he senses your tense “everything okay?” he asks stretching his arm behind you resting on the booth.

“yeah just you never sit next to me, always opposite” you smile biting your lip as you notice your closeness

“maybe i wanted to sit next to you for once” he beams bringing a hand up to tuck a piece of hair behind your ear

“and maybe since you let me check you out we’ve moved up in our level of friendship” he winks our food being placed in front of us

“what’s that supposed to me” you blush feeling the room growing hotter

“well i was hoping to move from platonic bodyguard to sexy serpent boyfriend” you eyes widen your stomach seemed to flip in your stomach.

“you think with that leather jacket your all slick huh?” you tease picking at your fries

“your bad boy leather jacket facade can’t win me over that easy jones” you smile feeling a little more at ease even though your insides were screaming at you to kiss him.

“oh really? you sure about that?” he smiles playfully, you kept your eyes trained on your fries knowing that one look into his eyes and you’d melt

“mhm” you muse

in one swift movement his beanie is in your hands and he’s running his long fingers through his luscious raven locks, a strand of hair falling infront of his eyes.

you stop breathing your heart hammering in your chest as your ovaries go into overdrive

you open your mouth to report with a snarky remark but you end up opening and closing your mouth at a loss of words, mumbling a inaudible response before your cheeks heat up.

“what was that?” he tease closing the gap between you slowly

“screw it ” you mumble pulling him by the collar of his leather jacket crashing your lips onto his, jughead spends no time kissing back pulling on your legs so they were draped over his lap.

you hands roaming over his chest before working their way up to his neck and hair as his hands stroke your leg, pulling your waist so they was no space between the two of you.

you were broken apart at the sound of pop clearing his throat, you turn red burying your head into his chest “sorry pop” jughead attempts to keep a straight face as the older man leaves our table, shaking his head.

“so was that a yes?” he asks

you bring your brows together “a yes to what?” you tease

“to being your sexy serpent boyfriend” he wiggles his brows placing a kiss on your neck

“i don’t know maybe just boyfriend” you joke cussing him to tickle you, letting out a small squeal gaining the attention of the owner once more. a scowl on his face.

“fine fine!!” you giggle

“fine what?” he argues

“you can be my sexy serpent boyfriend” you admit rolling your eyes as he boy grins helplessly

“only if i can be your sexy serpent princess”

he nods pecking your lips “you’ve always been my sexy serpent princess”