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strwbite · 11 months

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i can already tell this is about to be my new fav blog… can i request something about john and arthur (separately?? whatever is easiest) falling for a fem gunslinger who’s new to the gang?? :)

˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➳❥ A/N; how sweet of you to say, anon!! thank you so much! :D <333 and yes, of course you can! gonna be so honest here, i got SUPER into writing arthur's part and made it way too long, so this post is condensed to just arthur's perspective. i'm currently writing up john's, but i think it'd make the post a bit too long if i included both, so i decided to go ahead and post this one tonight! i hope to have john's up some time tomorrow—in a separate post so nothing is too long! i hope you understand and i am so excited! i had a lot of fun writing this for you!:D i hope it's in character for arthur, i tried my best!:) anyways, enough rambling, let's get into it!

♡ ; WARNINGS; fluff, some angsty themes, descriptions of a wound, hurt/comfort ♡ ; SUMMARY; you tend to arthur's wounds and he realizes just how much he cares for you ♡ ; RATING; sfw ♡ ; CHARACTERS; arthur morgan ♡ ; DETAILS; 3.5k words, part one - find john's part here (wip)

“Arthur Morgan!”

Your voice was hushed in your throat as you whisper-shouted his name through the air of Horseshoe Overlook, your words sounding more like a scold than a greeting. Said scolding hung heavy over Arthur and he tipped his head down in embarrassment, the black leather of his hat covering what little you could see of his face. He sat in his horse's saddle, one hand holding the reins as he led her to the post. The other hand held a white-knuckled grip on the opposing shoulder, his body slouched over as he guarded it. Taking a step closer, you noticed the crimson stain seeping into button-up that lay beneath his equally bloody hand, ichor oozing out of what you could only chalk up to some sort of wound.

It was around four in the morning and most everyone at the camp was fast asleep, save for some of the camp’s night owls, who wandered around, aimlessly. You had finished your chores around camp and decided to spend some time picking up the slack where other members had failed to keep up with their responsibilities; a selfless attempt to avoid any conflict between Grimshaw and aforementioned slackers. You had been wiping down a dirtied table that sat across from the hitching posts when you were interrupted by the sound of hooves clobbering against the dew-covered grown. The hoofbeats were met with a sleep-deprived Lenny who called out, ‘Who goes there?’, which was met with Arthur’s half-hearted, ‘S’just me, Lenny.’, before he rode up to the hitching post.

“Christ, what happened to you?” You chided, rushing to his side as you took a closer look at the blood-stained hand he held over the presumed lesion. There was more blood than you had originally noticed, some of which was a deep brown that dried and seeped into the cotton of his sleeve, speaking note to just how long it had been bleeding. You reached up, gesturing for him to move his hand, but he only nursed it closer to his side, causing a grimace to spread across his face at the movement.

He was in pain, that you knew for sure—despite what you’ve learned of his durable reputation, seeing him like this worried you. You and Arthur had grown somewhat close after your arrival. At first, you had a hard time accumulating to the hectic nature of the gang, but he aided you in your transition into the Van der Linde lifestyle. He checked up on you daily, offering you food, errands—just about anything you could think of. Arthur also held conversations about your life before, allowing you to ramble on about who you are and where you came from; how different things are now—and he'd validate everything you had to say about the Gang's way of life and your upheaval. After some time, he even took to bringing you small gifts and trinkets he found when he'd run off somewhere, each time saying something along the lines of, ‘I know you ain't got none of your old stuff with you, so here, saw this and thought of you.”.

Needless to say, you had developed a strong affinity for the cowboy. So when he disappeared, seemingly without a trace, it troubled you.

You hadn’t seen or heard from him in days—in fact, no one around the camp had. Days without Arthur turned into a full week without Arthur and you couldn’t hide the concern that stirred inside of you. Despite your new position in the gang, you know this wasn’t unheard of, per se—Arthur had a habit of disappearing for days at a time, only to return with various trophies and animal pelts from his adventures. But something felt off to you, this was different. That feeling only served to be solidified when you overheard Charles muttering something along the lines of, ‘Didn’t find him when I went lookin’ earlier.’, in a passing conversation with Javier.

And yet, here he was—the cat dragged him in, albeit not without a few scratches and bruises. He slung his leg over the saddle and to the other side of his horse, a hiss slipping through his gritted teeth at the pain that seared through his shoulder at the movement. You offered him a hand and helped him down, supporting his weight to the best of your ability. After he was on the ground, you slung his non-injured arm across your shoulder, ignoring his stubborn insistence of, ‘I can walk on my own, ‘m fine.’, as you urged him to use you as support. Arthur accepted his fate and hooked his arm around your shoulders—the blood leaking from the injury at the loss of pressure—and allowed you to help him to his tent.

“Can’t believe you’d run off on us like that, Morgan—you do this a lot?” You griped at him, but concern tinged your every word. “Had everyone worried half to death—‘m glad you’re back, even though I hate seein’ you like this.”

“Ain’t nothin’ for you to make a fuss over, best you quit that bellyachin’. Don’t wanna make yourself sick worryin’ about me.” He remarked.

“Oh, Arthur, I’m always worryin’ about you.”

Arthur could hear the genuinity in your tone, so palpable and honest, and it sent a fire of guilt burning through him, his head drooping low once more in avoidance. He never meant to worry you. The last thing he ever wanted to do was keep you up at night, wondering if he was okay or if you'd ever see him again. He was adamant that a newcomer like you shouldn’t have to worry about that sort of thing in the first place—you were just getting your land legs within the gang, you shouldn’t have to concern yourself with the likes of him. Despite the remorse pooling in his stomach, it was hard to ignore the way his heart sputtered against his chest at your expressed concern. Arthur wasn’t the most in-tune with his emotions and when he was, it was scarcely pleasant. His feelings were deprecative at best, most of them leading him to believe he was undeserving of care; that everything he'd ever accomplished had been nothing but evil, hateful deeds—that he deserved all the bad things that happened to him—that would happen to him. He had it coming, of course. The thought of a lady like you caring for a wicked man like him profoundly confused him and sent his brain wracking. But even he had to admit, the way you spoke to him with such consideration piqued his interest. On one hand, he felt he wasn’t worthy of such a sweet, caring person in his life—on the other, he wondered what it would be like to be to get to know you. To open up to you. To let you in.

“I ain’t worth the fuss.” He remarked, disregarding the way his heart heaved heavy in his ears at the thought of something more tangible between the two of you. He averted his attention back to the wound he nursed on his shoulder, taking notice of the grime and debris that surrounded the gash. He assumed that all the poking and prodding at it with less-than-clean hands egged on the infection that dared to fester. His adrenaline had worn off at this point. His shoulder ached and throbbed.

“Just got myself a souvenir from an O’Driscoll, s’all—graze at that, mind you. Ain’t nothin’ to write home about—why’re you so concerned anyways, Miss?”

“Oh sure, just a graze,” you scoffed and rolled your eyes, your tone dripping with sarcasm. Despite his aloof demeanor, you continued guiding him to his tent with slow, tentative steps as you supported his weight with your own. “‘Cause, Arthur, that could get nasty real quick and I ain’t too keen on lettin’ you up and die by the hands of an O’Driscoll. Graze or not, you’re lettin’ me doctor you up—and I mean proper.”

Arthur opened his mouth to argue—to insist that he would be fine, that he didn’t need a lady such as yourself to waste precious time on a man like him, but the words fell short when he turned to look down at you. Your gaze met his own, your demeanor softened with worry and care, and it sent a flight of butterflies he didn’t quite know he had fluttering in his stomach. How could he say no to you? With a long-winded exhale, Arthur nodded his head in response, his eyes darting around the camp to avoid your stare.

“Sure.”

When the two of you reached his modest tent, you eased him into a seated position on the cot before taking a step back. With an insignificant gesture that said ‘one second’, you scurried off to grab the much-needed supplies, leaving the cowboy to sit and fester in his stirring emotions and searing pain. You weren’t gone too long, though, and you returned with a bottle of whiskey in one hand. The other held a strip of flannel and a roll of gauze.

“Now, this ain’t gonna feel good by any means,” you murmured as you lowered yourself to the cot, taking a seat next to him.

Arthur had been through this process many times—several of those times were unfortunately at the mercy of less-than-careful hands. Needless to say, he knew the pain and he knew it well. His painstaking fate mattered little to him at the moment, though, as all he could focus on was how close you sat to him. He’d sat next to you before, sure—but not like this. You sat with pure intentions, leg brushing up against his own as you leaned in to examine the wound with such care. He couldn’t quite wrap his head around it—you knew of the things he had done, his reputation certainly preceded him. You knew exactly the type of man he was, tied up in his wrongdoings and sins, and yet, you didn’t question a single thing. Instead, you gave him a brief scolding and treated him with a gentle kindness he’d never quite received. You took care of him. The moment felt tender like never before, filled with consideration and attentiveness—Arthur couldn’t recall a time he had been so vulnerable with someone, save for Mary Linton, which was long over and done with.

“Don’t I know it.” He grumbled.

Arthur shifted his position on the cot, leaning forward to give you a better view of the supposed ‘graze’. What you could make of the surrounding flesh beneath his shirt’s fabric was red and inflamed, a testament to the trauma it bore. The wound itself pulsated as blood trickled down, matting the ripped fabric of the shirt to his skin. Your feeble fingers grazed around the edges as you struggled to get a closer look through squinted eyes. Some of the view was obstructed by clotting blood and torn fabric—Arthur grimaced at the sensation of your touch against the inflamed skin.

“How long I got, doc?” He queried, voice hitching in his throat in pain while he attempted to make light of the situation. You had to admit, it was a nasty wound—a bullet to the shoulder was rarely a welcomed invitation, especially to those who didn’t receive care from a proper medic, but you had seen worse.

“Well, Mister Morgan,” you spoke as your hands worked the cap of the whiskey bottle, a loud ‘pop!’ signaling that it was open. You lifted the flannel to the top of the bottle and flipped it over, soaking the material as the stench of alcohol flooded your nose. “You’ll live. Probably. Y’know you’re lucky you found yourself at the hands of a medic such as myself.”

The two of you shared a laugh at your jest—in all actuality, you had little to no idea what you were doing when it came to anything medicinal. The best you knew was to clean it with whiskey, drink the aforementioned whiskey to help with the pain, wrap it up, and pray it doesn't get infected. But you would be damned if you didn’t at least try to assist the poor man; you didn’t know Arthur to ask for help. The little time you had spent with the man proved him to be self-reliant, sometimes to a fault. The fact that he accepted your aid, albeit begrudgingly, was a surefire sign that something was wrong.

Your gesture didn’t go over his head, either, as he watched you work the bottle and cloth with attentive hands. He shook his head and a nervous-lipped grin twitched at his lips as he looked down at the liquid courage in your hands.

“S’pose you’re right. Dunno what I’d do with myself if it weren’t for you.”

“You’d do nothin’, I imagine it’d be a lonesome life, Mister Morgan. ‘Sides, who else ‘round here would fix up your,” You paused, as if searching for the right words, “Graze wounds, if you hadn’t met me?”

And with that, you raised the alcohol-soaked strip to the wound and gingerly pressed it against the laceration, dabbing it in repetition to remove any excess blood or dirt. Arthur flinched in response to the cloth brushing against the inflammation, followed by a small hiss slipping through gritted teeth as the raw sting of whiskey sept into the gash. You worked with vigilance and the most delicate touch you could manage, and he sat still for you, knowing it was for the better. The consequences posed if you didn’t flush it out served enough for him to bite his tongue and suffer through the pain.

When you finished the final touches of your doctoring, you pulled the flannel away and discarded it to the cot beside you. You replaced it with the roll of gauze and worked it around his arm, covering the scrape and securing it to itself. After finishing, your hand lingered on the unbothered skin below, your thumb rubbing circles against the skin to soothe him.

“It ain't perfect by any means, but that should do it.” You assured him with a gentle smile.

At this point, you sat so close to him. You enveloped Arthur’s every sense, from the wavering heat of your hand against his arm to the smell of gunpowder and wildflowers wafting off of you—the sight of you peering up at him with such fondness sent his heart racing once again. His hands fidgeted, nervous and awkward, as he stared at you for just a moment longer than necessary, before breaking away. The grip you had on Arthur grew tighter and tighter with every moment he spent in your presence. He wasn’t the best with these sorts of things, finding it all too complicated and confusing to put into words; he even rambled about it in his journal, writing, ‘I am not sure why I find myself so drawn to her; how do I explain this to her if I can’t even explain it to myself?’. From the way you carried yourself across the camp with such poise, to the way you gawked at him from across the campfire sent sparks flying in Arthur’s mind. Not to mention the eager way you rushed up to speak with him every time he came home—he was enamored with you, as nervous as he was to admit it.

“Thank you,” Arthur murmured as his eyes darted from yours to the thumb tracing circles on his bicep. He prayed you wouldn’t notice the flush that crept across his cheeks, starting from his nose, traveling all the way to his ears and neck.

Despite his wishful thinking, you noticed it, but you found it endearing. You had never seen Arthur this flustered—tongue-tied, sure, but never quite like this.

“I sure do appreciate it.”

You gave him a soft smile, eyes trailing along the heat that crept across his sun-kissed cheeks. You started to stand from the cot, keeping your eyes set on him as you rose to your feet. “‘Course, Arthur. Now, you just go ahead and rest up, all right?”

He nodded along as you spoke, avoiding looking into your eyes with a sense of embarrassment. It was never his intention to worry you, and he knew he'd be beating himself up for weeks over this entire endeavor. “Thank you for takin’ care of me—didn’t think you’d much care ‘bout it, 'bout me. ‘M sorry for bein’ gone so long.”

“Pfft,” You stifled a small laugh from within your throat as you placed a flattened palm against his non-injured shoulder, urging him to look up at you. “Don’t mention it. And ‘course I care ‘bout it. I care ‘bout you, Arthur—we all do.”

You offered him, yet another, sweet smile and used your thumb to rub the same circles against his shoulder. If you’d let him, Arthur was certain he'd stay like this for hours—under the comfort of your touch as the soft glow from oil lamps and moonlight shone over you. Your time spent with him was short-lived, sure, but there was no denying the way he gravitated to you. You were a fresh face, so kind and sweet to everyone you met, despite your reticence, and he found himself wanting to spend time with you. He'd ask you to accompany him into town, even if it were just to drop off some mail or pick up something on behalf of Dutch. He even took to bringing you along while hunting or going on scouting missions, despite initial hesitance. He was reluctant to put your in harm's way, but with some convincing on your end and a showcase of your way around a gun, he obliged you and found himself enjoying the company.

The world made sense when you were around, not so much when you weren’t.

“I care 'bout you, too. I'd even say I enjoy havin' you around, 'specially when you're fixin' me up." Arthur blurted out after a moment's silence, hands fidgeting as the boldness of his words sat heavy on his shoulders. Nerves soon sat in and his stomach twisted into a bundle of anxiety, sweat beading at his hands and forehead—did he say the wrong thing?

"Pardon, I, uh, not that I don't always enjoy your company, ‘cause I sure do-you're, uh, a real pleasure to be around, s'just—am I talkin' too much? Feels like ‘m talkin’ too much.”

He blabbered on, stammering over his words as he struggled to form a coherent sentence and you couldn’t conceal the laugh that slipped from your lips. It wasn’t one of malice or mockery; it was pure admiration.

“Oh, Arthur,” you sighed, your voice filled with warmth and affection that sent a fire of nerves burning through him. With a mix of nervousness and longing, you leaned in closer, bridging the gap between the two of you. Your eyes locked, and you could sense the anticipation in the cool air surrounding you. At that moment, time seemed to falter and come to a standstill. One of your hands caressed his hair, running your fingers through the long locks just before your lips met his in a tender, heartfelt kiss. It was soft, sweet, and everything he had ever wanted. His entire body tensed up as he felt your touch against him—it was supple and delicate, a tenderness he had seldom been gifted before, such a contrast to the pain that scorched through his shoulder and his very being. As if he needed any more confirmation, the feeling of your gentle affection laid upon him solidified everything—you made sense. He wanted to know you. He needed to know you.

With that, you pulled back, just after trailing another light touch through his hair, before you stood back to your upright position. He said nothing. You didn’t either. No words were needed when your sentiment spoke a thousand things more than he could ever dream of saying. The two of you lingered for a moment, taking in the moment as you stroked a delicate thumb against his stubble-covered cheek, tracing his time-weathered features. He leaned into your touch, ever-so-slightly.

Finally, you broke the spell of silence, your voice inching just above a whisper, “Get some rest, Arthur. You need it.”

With a final graze across his cheek, you retracted your hand and headed out of his tent, returning to the tables you were tending to, but his image stayed etched deep in your mind.

Arthur watched you retreat, his heart pounding in his chest as he tried to shake the warmth that pooled in him at your kiss. His mind swirled with emotions he couldn’t quite put into words. He hadn’t felt like that in a long time; it was a feeling he thought he had lost forever, and he still questioned if he truly deserved it, even now. He replayed the fleeting moment in his mind, committing every detail to memory—the touch of your hand, the softness of your lips, the tenderness in your eyes.

With deliberate movements, mindful not to aggravate his injured shoulder, he settled flat on his back, lying down on the cot. His gaze fixed on the canvas ceiling above and his thoughts raced, consumed by you and what could be.

Gradually, sleep beckoned Arthur, tempting him with heavy eyelids and the gentle chorus of crickets chirping in the nearby woods. As the night wore on, the camp embraced a stillness that only the wilderness could offer, coaxing him into a deep sleep. In that stillness, your presence lingered, a gentle reminder that Arthur wasn’t alone; that you cared for him.

Just as he cared for you.

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ihaveatheoryonthat · 2 years

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Whumptober* Day 14: “I’ll be right behind you”

*I tried. I really did. I just hit “The Powers That Were Trying His Nerves” and couldn’t take myself seriously anymore.

@blaiddraws, someday I’ll write something for one of your AUs that’s not ridiculous fluff, but alas, today is for Worm Shenanigans.

---

There were certain inevitabilities in life.

The commuter who only just made his train to Humilau every morning, the annual Nimbasa blackout as Elesa’s ambition tripped the power grid, the departure and return of Casteliacones-- all of these events were guaranteed to happen, though the time frames varied between them.

Another constant was this: Ingo picked a direction and Emmet followed him.

It sounded odd, imbalanced even, but it really wasn’t. Ingo was too fair-minded to chart an inequitable path, and Emmet had no compunctions about raising an objection if need be. If anything, it was a game of give and take, of compromises. It was a substantial part of how they had ended up running the Battle Subway.

There was exactly one place Ingo had ventured where Emmet had been unable to join him, but, as always, he’d split the difference. While Emmet still wished he’d been able to accompany his brother on the unplanned commute to Hisui, the fact that it had been a round trip lessened the sting.

It was a strange homecoming, but not a bad one. There was a lot that had to change to accommodate their new lives, and a lot to adjust to or reacquaint oneself with; that was just the nature of things when you or a loved one was reincarnated as a soul-powered train. For every weird or uncomfortable new quirk, there were ways to alleviate that burden or find the fun in it, and there were plenty of perks mixed in. It was life-- just a new spin on it.

From the day he’d figured out who, precisely, was haunting the subway tunnels, Emmet had set his course.

As always, he followed his twin’s lead. It just took a little longer this time.

That was a nice way of saying that, when he passed, he turned right back around and demanded to become a second Frightrail. He knew the drawbacks; he’d been right there to witness them for years on end. While he might not relish the idea of drawing sustenance from others’ life force, he’d come to terms with that reality. Having a completely different body type would be a learning experience, but was it so much worse than moving on without his brother? No.

When it came down to it, that was the answer to every tricky question. He could endure it. They could endure it as a--

...could they be a two car train if they were both trains? Did one’s existence as a literal train preclude their ability to be a metaphorical car?

The Powers That Were Trying His Nerves stared for a long moment, processing, and then decided to wash Its hooves of him. Or at least, he assumed that was what happened. Something had to have occurred, because he blinked and then everything looked wrong.

Well, maybe not wrong, but weird. Even before reaching up to scrub at the rounded snout changing his field of vision, Emmet understood why that was-- again, he’d put years of thought into this, even if he’d made his decision all but immediately-- it was just… a lot at once. At least he had the luxury of knowing what he’d been getting himself into. Having an older sibling was convenient like that.

Speaking of.

He stopped pawing at his steel-smooth nose and looked around. Seemed Arceus had seen fit to plonk him in the park across from the station. Truthfully, Emmet hadn’t expected anything in particular, so this destination made as much sense as anything else. While it would have lived up the classic image of a ghost to rise where he’d died, he really didn’t need that kind of drama in his afterlife; he’d passed at home, and, logically, that space belonged to someone else now.

...he should go haunt the tunnels, just to see how Ingo liked playing worm wrangler.

Emmet made to push himself upright, but only made it so far as the first set of arms, lacking any of the tertiary pairs that studded each segment of plating. Right, they stayed dormant by default, didn’t they? He knew the sections of his body could slide apart to bring them out, but how exactly did one go about doing that…?

Maybe he should have asked some more pointed questions when he’d had the opportunity.

Eventually, he gave up on the ghost limbs, but with some trial and error, managed to wriggle himself into the air, and that would do for now. He stayed lower to the ground than strictly necessary for a host of reasons, ranging from ‘less noticeable’ to ‘not as far to fall’ to ‘feels more train-like’.

He was well aware that there wouldn’t be anyone at Gear Station so early in the morning-- not since Jackie had retired-- but it was home station for a reason, perhaps now more than ever. Even if he couldn’t make the staff understand what he wanted, all he had to do was wait around and he’d get it.

It wound up somewhat easier than he’d expected; even with the late hour, the station master’s office was occupied.

Blatantly ignoring the yellowed sign asking that patrons ‘not tap the glass, because the station master was sleeping’, he nosed it open and barged right in. Then Emmet did something that, were he alive, would have gone against the very fabric of his moral code: he deliberately caused a collision of trains.

With a sleepy hiss, his victim cracked an eye open, then chuffed a yawn.

“How long has it been?” He asked, nudging insistently at his brother’s face, “Do not tell me you were asleep all this time.”

“’All this time’? I can make assumptions, too, you realize. You’ve been here… hm… seven minutes, and you’re already jumping to conclusions.” Ingo rumbled, amused. His voice was raspy with disuse, and he didn’t even bother opening his other eye. Combined, it told Emmet that yes, he’d been asleep for awhile.

Magnanimously, he decided to ignore the comment, “You taunted me for days, before. And this time you decided to take a nap?”

His twin finally resigned himself to consciousness and ducked under Emmet’s head, giving himself room to stretch the first set of arms. “I’ve told you, the circumstances were nerve-wracking; it only turned into a game because that was the track you chose.”

Emmet grumbled his malcontent, and, to his surprise, it echoed in his throat. Before he had the chance to fully process that fact, Ingo raised his head, bumping against his.

“I assisted for a time, but it wasn’t fun in your absence. This seemed the easiest solution.”

Oh, it was a matter of fun was it? He could work with that. Eyes darting this way and that, he picked a quarry and escape route. When Ingo seemed distracted untangling himself, Emmet lunged forward and gave the tip of his tail a yank before scurrying off toward platform 3.

There was a bark of outrage that quickly condensed into:

“Your form is terrible!”

A delighted whistle escaped him and, without turning back, he called:

“Then you had better come correct me!”

The air displaced behind him, a secondary presence emerging from the slipstream he’d carved. There was a tug on his tail just before Ingo pulled up to his side.

“Honestly,” He huffed, nudging at Emmet’s spectral arm, “You studied aerodynamics; you should be aware of how inefficient this is.”

The plating slid shut at the contact and, unbalanced by his arms’ sudden exit, Emmet wobbled in the air. As he sped up, Ingo pressed their sides together, steadying him until he was the one leading, purposefully cutting a path through the air for Emmet to follow.

Well that just proved it: two cars to a train, irregardless of the number of sub-trains within.

Some things simply did not change.

#ihaveatheoryonthat pkmn #submas #fanfic #whumptober

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longislandcharm · 2 months

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PARTIES: @longislandcharm and @magmahearts TIMING: First week of January LOCATION: The Winter Festival SUMMARY: There's a reindeer destroying Winter's car. Cass comes up with a plan to get rid of it. CONTENT WARNINGS: Just a weird reindeer.

The winter festival had felt like another reason for people to make puns of Winter’s name. She’d planned to avoid it but with her recent injury to her shoulder there wasn’t much she could do back at her new place when it came to the renovations or even unpacking anything and the girl was bored out of her mind. It was her favorite season too so she figured a short trip to the festival couldn’t hurt too much as long as people decided to act right that day.

Turns out, it wasn’t the people she had to worry about. She’d been having a good time, really. All of the booths had been somewhat entertaining at least and the food had been pretty good but on her way back towards her car, Winter noticed that she wasn’t alone. One of the many reindeer that had taken over the town was hot on her heels, most likely because of the apple cider donut she had in hand. She wasn’t about to give it up, the girl giving the reindeer a look over her shoulder before picking up her pace.

It was keeping up with her though and before long she felt the nudge of its muzzle against her waist. “Oh, no, Blitzen, this is mine. Go find your own.” Air blew out of its nose, the girl watching as it turned white with the cold, almost as if its temper was rising and steam was accompanying it. “I mean, it, shoo.” Could a wild animal give attitude? Winter could have sworn she saw the thing narrow its eyes at her. It would have been scary had she been threatened by something that didn’t accompany Santa on his trip to visit all the children of the world every year.

Again, she had to learn the lesson that she couldn’t underestimate anything anymore. The reindeer sauntered in the direction that Winter had originally been going, moving straight towards her Jeep Cherokee, and she watched it turn before it kicked out her right headlight. “What the fuck?” It was staring at her, challenging her to say no to giving it her donut, and well, Winter didn’t back down from a fight. Especially when it was being started by a furball with antlers. She kept eye contact as she raised the rest of the donut to her mouth, chewing the last bite even as the animal blew out another heated breath and kicked its foot back again. There was now a sizable dent in her grill. “Hello? Does anyone know how we stop demented reindeer from destroying our property?”

The festival was amazing. Cass had never really been to an event like it before. She’d seen them from a distance — county fairs and conventions that she was too afraid to get close to for fear of being cast out or rejected — but she’d never participated in one before. But… she felt comfortable in Wicked’s Rest, in a way she never really had anywhere else. That intense fear of rejection was still there, but she was trying not to let it stop her from having fun anymore. She was at the festival, she was enjoying herself. She was laughing at the ugly sweaters and marveling at the snow sculptures. She was having fun.

But she was on her own. Tonight, at least, this round. She’d dragged friends before, made Ariadne wear that silly two-person sweater with her and all, but it was easier to weave in and out of the crowd picking pockets for much needed food money when she was by herself. And if she weren’t by herself, she might not have spotted the reindeer being… decidedly un-reindeer like.

One was following someone. Cass could only see the back of the woman’s head, but she didn’t think it was possible for her not to realize she had a tail. Reindeer were loud walkers, what with the hooves and all. Still, instinct drove the oread forward, unsure if she was looking to help the woman or the deer up until the moment the latter, seemingly unprovoked, went for what Cass could only assume was the woman’s car. Blinking, she made her way forward.

“Hey,” she called out, “are you o— Winter?” It was only as the woman turned that Cass realized she was familiar. “Whoa, hey! Um, I’m guessing this isn’t your demented reindeer, then?”

She knew that voice. That voice was so familiar and yet she couldn’t place who it belonged to until she turned to find Cass coming towards her. Not exactly someone she had enough confidence in to get rid of this thing but it was nice to have someone there to share in her misery. Rolling her eyes softly at the question, she turned her head back to continue watching the reindeer as it stared her down, still challenging Winter to do something about the small kicks it was still giving her jeep. “Does it look like it belongs to me?”

Her attitude was misplaced and she knew that as soon as the words left her mouth. She wasn’t mad at Cass, she was pissed at this stupid animal destroying her car over a damn donut. Sighing, she used her good hand to run her fingers through her hair. “No, it’s not mine. It just started following me when it noticed I had a donut in my hand. I didn’t give it to the stupid thing and now it keeps kicking my car.” It was like the reindeer wasn’t stupid at all, like it knew exactly what to do and how to get its way. Almost as if he were mimicking Winter’s tantrums from when she was a child…and maybe even a little older.

It started to saunter around to the side of her jeep and her eyes narrowed in its direction. “Don’t you dare…” The reindeer was smiling at her. That smirk was unmistakable as its antlers went through her driver’s side window making Winter let out a low growl. “I think this festival could use a reindeer roast right about now.”

“Well, I don’t know. You don’t strike me as a reindeer girl, but it seems a little rude to assume.” It was half a joke, her lips upturned in a quiet smile. She didn’t know Winter well; she didn’t need to. She wanted Winter to like her because she wanted everyone to like her, because the idea of being disliked always tasted like acid on her tongue. There was a chance this particular ship had sailed, though; Winter was close with Mack, and Mack hadn’t spoken to Cass since their argument months ago. Still, that desperation beat in her chest. That need to be liked was a living thing. It controlled her far more than she controlled it.

The situation might have been funny if not for how frustrated Winter clearly was. Cass could hardly blame her for being irritated. If she’d had a car and a reindeer seemed intent on kicking it to pieces to protest not getting a donut, she’d have been pretty mad, too. “I don’t think donuts are good for deer, anyway,” she offered, glancing to the deer in question as if she was trying to remind it of this fact, too. Feeding animals things that weren’t a part of their natural diets was a good way to make them sick, after all.

But the reindeer didn’t seem to care much about that. It continued its protest, kicking at Winter’s car angrily. Then, its antlers went through the window, and Cass winced at the sound of breaking glass. “Okay, let’s — Let’s figure out how to get it away from here. Nobody needs to roast anybody!”

“No, you hit the nail on the head with that assumption. They’re gross, full of ticks, and apparently they have tempers.” The subtle humor Cass had been trying to throw in this was lost on her, her frustration with the whole situation overtaking anything else. Her eyes cut back to Blitzen having a merry time with her vehicle but she knew better than to approach it. If it wanted to beat her car Winter had no doubts that it would turn its hooves on her if she tried anything.

But it seemed Cass had other ideas. The suggestion to try and get it away didn’t sit well with her but the medium wasn’t sure what else they could do unless she wanted to watch this asshole make her vehicle into spare parts. “I’m not giving the bastard what it wants so food isn’t the way but I don’t have any other ideas on how to get it away from my stuff.” Her voice rose higher towards the end so that the reindeer could hear it and in response the animal headbutted her side mirror off. She really wanted that roast.

The reindeer looked up at the two girls and just stood there as if challenging them to refuse it again. Winter knew it was waiting for food and if she didn’t get it any soon it would continue its crusade. “I don’t have any more donuts, you bastard!” The air in front of it turned foggy as it let out a frustrated breath and she joined it while she watched its antlers go into her side door. “Cass, what am I supposed to do with a bum arm? Push its butt with one hand? He’ll probably kick us and then we’ll look like my car…and I don’t really want to touch it’s butt anyway.” She didn’t want to admit that she might have to give up her pride and grab some popcorn to lure it away or something to that extent. It didn’t deserve the food it craved.

Okay, so Winter wasn’t in a joking mood. Cass’s expression fell just a little, though she wasn’t really hurt by it. It was clear that this situation was… frustrating, to say the least. Winter probably wasn’t having a great time watching a reindeer attack her car. After all, nobody liked seeing their personal belongings damaged, especially not by errant reindeer. “He probably has fleas, too,” she offered, because she’d learned the fastest way to a person’s heart was often as simple as agreeing with them. She wanted Winter to like her. It was her nature to say whatever was necessary to make that happen.

Although… Winter’s stubbornness might get them both into some trouble here. After all, the most sure-fire way to get the animal to leave was to toss the food and let it go. What did it matter if they’d be giving it what it wanted? It was a reindeer; Cass doubted it was capable of really thinking about that kind of thing. But if Winter wanted another solution, Cass would find one. She’d figure out a way to resolve this without anyone getting hurt. Wasn’t that what heroes were supposed to do?

“Maybe we can scare it away?” She offered, trying to remember what she knew about reindeer. Like most animals, they tended to be afraid of things that were bigger than them, didn’t they? The problem was… Neither Cass nor Winter was bigger than a reindeer. “What if… you got on my shoulders? We could make ourselves look big, and that might spook it a little.”

“Ugh, gross, you’re right.” She pointedly looked at the reindeer, her nemesis (she was calling it this time), and sneered. “Not only would touching it risk us getting lyme disease but it would make us itch as well.” It responded with a noise she could only describe as fury in reindeer form before using its antler to puncture her tire. Alright, enough was enough. If Winter had to get the thing food then so be it. This thing was causing way too much strife in her life to hold onto pride. She was just afraid that as soon as she fed it then the thing would never leave her alone.

Cass’ suggestion stopped all other thoughts, her eyebrows raising so much they were close to buried in her hair line. How in the world could she climb onto the girls shoulders and why would she risk injury to the both of them when she’d refused to even touch the thing ruining her day? “I don’t know if that’s the best idea. This little shit doesn’t seem scared of much and I don’t want to hurt you. I’m tiny but so are you.” They were the same height and if she had to guess weighed close to the same. Winter was someone who wouldn’t lift a paper bag to carry in groceries half the time, how was she to know if Cass could handle her weight?

As much as she hated the idea, she hated the idea of giving in to terrorist demands even more and that’s what this thing was being. “Do you think you could handle it?

“Yeah!” Cass agreed adamantly, feeling as if she’d made a good decision in pointing out the reindeer’s potential for fleas. As if it had gained her brownie points in Winter’s eyes, as if it had gotten her all the closer to the friendship she craved from just about every person she met. She wanted approval, wanted attention, wanted love. Insulting a reindeer was a pretty small price to pay in order to achieve that.

But… maybe she still had a ways to go. Winter didn’t seem immediately sold on her idea, and Cass frowned a little. “I’m a lot sturdier than I look!” She knew she couldn’t climb on Winter’s back; as small as Cass looked, she was solid stone and heavy. Even if Winter could hold her weight, she’d certainly notice the difference between how Cass looked and how she weighed. “I could definitely handle it! And I think if we confuse it enough, it’ll freak it out and make it take off. Just, you know, make it cut its losses.”

The enthusiasm, it wasn’t at all contagious as she stared at Cass. No, if anything, it was making her more nervous for this possible disaster. What if she tried to climb onto the girl’s shoulders and her own bum one caused her to crash and fall? The reindeer would laugh and probably kick out a tire’s rim in celebration. She wasn’t so confident in her yoga abilities to think that an injury wouldn’t hold her back and Winter’s apprehension with the whole plan only continued to grow.

But then the bastard only got worse, a screeching sound filling the air as Blitzen ran the tip of his antler down the side of her car and caused a huge scratch. “Alright, you’re definitely getting roasted today, you little-” She cut herself off, knowing her temper could bring out the worst in her, and instead turned to Cass with a new fire in her belly. This monster wasn’t going to be allowed to do this to them.

“Fine, let’s try this. Do not drop me…it will be very painful.” If only she had been a cheerleader. No, she’d been too busy with ice skating in high school to join the lame squad. Winter tried her best to figure out how to maneuver this with her shoulder and only started to move when she saw something else she could stand on as a starting point. She stepped up onto the random tree trunk still in the ground, probably a casualty of some other disaster in this town, and looked to the other girl. “Alright, let's go.”

Winter didn’t seem enthusiastic, and for a moment, Cass thought it would be back to the drawing board. It wasn’t something she particularly wanted to do, if only because she knew there weren’t a lot of options available to them here. If Winter didn’t want to give the reindeer any food and Cass didn’t want the reindeer to be hurt, what choices did they have? There was only so much they could do, only so many things that might work.

Then, a miracle: Winter relented. A grin spread across Cass’s face, and she nodded quickly, getting down into a crouched position so that Winter could climb up onto her shoulders. “I won’t drop you,” she said. It was neither a promise nor a guarantee. Both of those things were dangerous, after all, especially to someone like Cass. But it was the closest thing she could offer to either without putting either of them at risk.

When she felt Winter balance on her shoulders, she rose back up to full height, tongue poking out the corner of her mouth as she concentrated very carefully on not dropping her friend. She took an unsteady step forward, bringing her hands up to grasp Winter’s legs and offer additional support. “Okay,” she said. “I’m going to walk towards it. You… scream!”

Oh god, why was she doing this? This was the worst idea and yet she couldn’t bring herself to give up her own stubborn mindset to give this fiend what he wanted. It was a little bit of a struggle to get onto the other’s shoulders but she still had to thank her yoga training for being able to do without the use of an arm but the wobbliness that happened afterwards? She almost jumped right off again. It was only Cass rising to her feet but it was enough for that doubt to come rushing right back and Winter had to close her eyes for a second.

No, that made things worse.

Opening her eyes again, she resisted the urge to gain stability by grabbing onto some part of Cass and just allowed the girl to go, using her core to help herself balance to not throw them off kilter. The only thing that could distract her from her impending fall that was sure to come was Cass telling her to scream.

Yea, she could do that. Especially with the rage that started to build at the sight of Winter’s car. When Cass started forward she could see the reindeer stand at attention. It knew something was up as it eyed the two girls. Was this actually going to work?

When they got closer, Winter started to scream at Blitzen, saying everything that she wanted to say to the reindeer from the moment it tried to take her donut. “You lazy, no good, little disease carrier, you need to go before we make you!” Her words soon turned into just screaming and the animal actually looked scared despite standing strong.

It was, like, suuuuper awkward trying to walk with someone balanced on your shoulders. Cass hadn’t really thought about how hard it would be, but it totally was. With every step she took, Winter’s position on top of her felt more precarious. It felt less like she was actually moving forward and more like she was just moving with the wobbling of the other girl’s body on top of her in an attempt to keep her from falling. One step at a time was the best way forward, she thought; left foot, right foot, blah blah blah. They’d get there! Eventually!

As they neared the reindeer, Winter seemed to stiffen on her shoulders. Anger, Cass figured; she was mad at the deer because of her car, which did seem fair enough. It wasn’t a justified reaction. Not getting food didn’t mean you got to destroy someone’s car, that totally wasn’t the vibe.

The screaming seemed to be doing… something. At first, the reindeer seemed unbothered. But when it turned to look at the source of the sound, it faltered a little. It seemed like Cass had been right — a reindeer, when faced with something substantially larger than a reindeer, grew just a little uneasy.

“Yeah!” The oread joined in. “You’d better back up, dude! We’re big and loud and angry! And we’ll… step on you!” It didn’t matter what they said to the reindeer, did it? The little guy probably didn’t understand English.

Winter appreciated Cass joining in on the yelling, her words failing her as the screaming took over, but she was having a hard time getting over the image of what people might have been seeing. One girl with a sling on her arm on top of another girl who was wobbling towards a confused reindeer as it did what it could to destroy a car…it was the most ridiculous thing. She kept looking back at her Jeep to get the anger to stay in place long enough to watch this little bastard run off. “Why are you still here? Even your fleas are quaking in their boots, go you little mongrel!”

With a huff, the reindeer made sure to add another long scratch to her car as it slid its antlers along the side again, making sure to puncture her back tire before running off towards the festival. It was most likely in pursuit of another person to bully into feeding it but Winter didn’t care, it was away from her car and that had been the goal. A victorious ‘whoop’ rang out to replace the yelling, the girl throwing her good fist in the air. Her car wasn’t totally destroyed, all she had to do now was call a tow service to get her to a garage and replace those tires.

“I can’t believe that actually worked.” Or that she was still on top of this girl and she hadn’t toppled them both over yet. She’d been so happy that the reindeer had run away that she’d forgotten how precarious this position was for them both. They were still wobbly and the medium was trying very hard to stay as still as possible after Winter remembered that Cass couldn’t hold her like this forever. “Uh, hey quick question, how do I get down without squashing us both? Why didn’t we think that through before I got up here?”

They probably looked ridiculous to anyone passing by. Cass, anchoring Winter on bottom while screaming at the top of her lungs and Winter, clad in a sling and clearly angry, screaming just as loudly. But in that moment, it was hard to care what they must have looked like. There was a quiet joy building up in Cass’s chest, a little thrill going through her. She was having fun. She thought Winter might have been, too, though she was pretty sure if she wasn’t, it wasn’t really Cass’s fault. If anything, the damaged car was to blame for any lack of enjoyment on Winter’s part. But… Cass hoped she wasn’t quite as miserable as she might have been without the whole screaming match.

The reindeer seemed to admit defeat, trotting off back towards the festival, and Cass let out a celebratory whoop. She nearly threw her hands up in the air in excitement, stopping herself short when she realized doing so would almost certainly throw Winter off her shoulders. She watched as the reindeer disappeared into the crowd, wondering absently what it would do next. For a moment, she imagined herself and Winter chasing it, still stacked on top of one another as they scared it into the woods. It was a funny idea… but probably not entirely feasible. There was no way they could maintain this balance forever.

In fact, Cass was a little surprised they’d held it up as long as they had. She blinked at Winter’s question, chewing absently at her lower lip. “Um… good question.” She could kneel down, but that much movement without toppling over would be difficult. “Maybe… I can inch us over to the car, and you can slide off onto the hood? Then I can help you off that.” Was it the best idea? No. But it was just about the only thing Cass could think of that wouldn’t end in the two of them landing on the concrete all tangled together, so… Work with what you’ve got, right?

Despite not knowing how she was going to get down, despite her car being completely trashed at this point, despite feeling so wobbly on top of this girl’s shoulders Winter was grinning. It was another ridiculous situation that she couldn’t help but laugh at because if she didn’t she would end up crying and that wasn’t happening. Underneath the frustration it had been such a funny thing to do and she knew that in the future she would look back on this with nothing but humor even if her annoyance was prominent. Cass wasn’t so bad even if she had thrown her best over a balcony…on accident, of course. Shit happened, right?

She looked over towards the car and thought for a moment, shrugging a shoulder when she came to the conclusion that it was already pretty far gone. They couldn’t really do much more damage could they? Shrugging her shoulder, she straightened up in hopes that it would help keep the balance better. “Sure, why not? I don’t think a dent in the hood will hurt it anymore than it already is.” Winter was definitely going to have to call a tow truck and her parents were going to have a field day when she told them a reindeer did this on purpose. The thought of that made her giggle, her body shaking softly with the laughter. She just hoped it wouldn’t throw Cass off balance.

Winter was right, of course — there wasn’t much damage the two of them could do to the car that was worse than what the reindeer had done already. Even if Winter were heavy enough to dent the hood by sitting on it, which Cass didn’t think she was, it would hardly even be noticeable among the scrapes and dents left behind by a very angry reindeer. The whole situation was just a tiny bit ridiculous, and part of Cass wanted to laugh. Who dealt with things like this? Who had these kinds of problems? (The same kind of people, Cass suspected, who accidentally ruined sleepover parties by throwing someone down the stairs, only to be absolved when said someone proved herself to be undead already.)

Carefully, Cass began to inch towards the jeep. Slowly, but balanced. At least, until the weight on her shoulders began to shake and vibrate. Cass wasn’t expecting it, and it didn’t help that the sound of Winter’s giggling set her off, too. She began to laugh right along with the other girl, her body shaking until she realized there was no way she was maintaining her balance. The best she could hope for was to control the fall. She angled the pair of them so that she would hit the ground first, hoping to save Winter from any further injury, giggling all the way down.

Winter could feel the two of them tipping over and tried to brace herself for impact even as she continued with the giggles, the sound only growing louder with the surprise of toppling sideways. She shouldn’t have been shocked, and in part she really wasn’t, but she still let out a yelp when she hit the ground as a jolt of pain went through her injured shoulder. Jostling it probably wasn’t for the best. It should have killed the mood but her moan of pain was short lived before the laughter started to take over again. She just kept imagining what people were thinking as they walked past the two of them and it would start a fresh round of them. “God, we probably look so stupid right now.”

Sitting up, she gingerly lifted her injured arm just to make sure the jostle of the fall didn’t break the stitches apart, her giggling having died down but the smile still on her face. But it started to fall as her eyes landed on her car again, her head falling forward in defeat. “I appreciate your help, Cass. Not many people would let me sit on their shoulders to scare off a rogue deer. You’re not hurt, are you?” Winter looked the girl over but didn’t see any blood staining her clothes. Didn’t mean she couldn’t be injured in some way. “Do we need to add another offense to that deers’ list?” Oh boy, was she keeping a list. She’d find the little shit before long but right now she wasn’t too worried about it.

Winter yelped as they hit the ground, and Cass felt a moment of worry wash over her before the other girl began laughing again. It was impossible not to join in, squeals of delight rising up from the pair as they lay tangled together on the ground. “We — We just fought a reindeer,” Cass added, breathless. “Do you think that puts us on the naughty list?” The question only made her laugh harder. It felt good to laugh. It felt good to have problems as stupid as a reindeer attacking her friend’s jeep, felt good to have those problems resolved as easily as a silly plan and a piggyback ride. She wouldn’t mind more issues like this, really. She felt more like a superhero now than she had in a long, long time.

Shifting into a sitting position, she faced Winter with a grin. She watched the other girl inspect her shoulder. “Is it okay?” She nodded towards the injured limb, hoping it hadn’t been damaged in the fall to the ground. “I’m not hurt, no. And I was happy to help. That was… actually kind of fun. I’m sorry about your car, though.” She looked back to the jeep with a grimace. It was definitely going to need some work done on it to get it back to normal.

“I think I’ve been on the naughty list since way before the reindeer came into my life…you probably just made it though. Welcome, you’re gonna love it.” She sent a playful grin Cass’ way before she looked back at the spot where the reindeer had previously disappeared. “To be fair, I think the reindeer is the one who should be on the naughty list. It’s going to cost a fortune to fix what that thing broke.” At least her mood was better. It only took climbing somebody else and acting like a total idiot with them to get a rogue animal to go away. Winter shook her head at it all, laughing again when she realized how mad Henry was going to be to know that he missed this. That’s what he got for wanting to throw snowballs at people walking around the festival.

Looking up from her arm, she nodded with a shrug of her good one. “It’s fine. Little bit of a jolt when we landed but nothing I can’t handle.” Not that she would admit if it was anything she couldn’t handle. The good thing was, she wasn’t lying this time around. Nodding her head at Cass’ answer, she too looked over at the Jeep and sighed once more. “I think the only thing I’m really worried about is explaining it to my parents. I don’t think they’re going to believe that a reindeer did this out of vengeance.” Now that Winter was really thinking about it, it would probably worry her parents if she said something like that to them. They were already concerned after her melt down back in June.

“Anyway, I really do appreciate it. You’re not so bad, Cass. Maybe we should get together and intimidate more of these suckers. Become a team. Girls bosses against teleporting menaces.” The medium grinned at the horrible name before she started to get to her feet, wiping away the cold snow that had clung to her legs. “I would ask if you needed a ride but it looks like I’m waiting for a tow truck now. Want to head back to the festival with me?”

There was a brief, childish sense of panic at the idea that she’d made the ‘naughty list,’ though realistically Cass knew she’d have been on it years ago if such a thing really existed. If the stealing hadn’t gotten her a spot there, the accidental deaths she was responsible for would have surely secured her a reservation. And that was assuming that the parts of her that made her own people cast her out of Hawai’i didn’t doom her from the start. But the naughty list was a silly concept, and Winter was only joking, so Cass laughed. “Somehow, I think I’ll manage,” she replied, squinting at Winter’s car a little. “Yeah, I don’t think reindeer have money. Or insurance. So… I guess you’re stuck with the bill?” She managed to at least sound apologetic about it.

She was far more worried about the state of Winter’s arm than her jeep, though. She relaxed a little when the other girl assured her that it was all right, nodding her head. “Well, um… I know a doctor, if you need one.” Regan would definitely be unhappy about the prospect of helping Winter, and would probably complain about it the entire time, but Cass was pretty sure she’d do it anyway. For someone who claimed not to have any kind of attachments, she was always willing to lend a helping hand. The mention of Winter’s parents brought up a complicated bundle of emotions, and Cass nodded absently. “Maybe we could get a video of the reindeer doing other stuff as proof,” she offered, glancing back to the festival. The praise had her grinning and preening, pleased to have successfully navigated the interaction. “We could totally kick their fluffy asses,” she joked, nodding her head. With one last glance at Winter’s ruined jeep, she nodded again. “Yeah,” she agreed. “Come on. I can buy you a snack to make up for the jeep — and this time, we’ll make sure no reindeer even dares to ask for a bite.”

#Threads #Thread: Cass #Please Stop Blitzen

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snowe-zolynn-rogers · 1 year

Text

The Eclipse, Blood Moon, And Harvest Moon Show

Pairings: DJ Music Man/Blood Moon, Glamrock Bonnie/Harvest Moon

Word Count: 1,160 Words

Summary: Learning Minecraft goes hilariously when four people don't know what they're doing. Eclipse and Sirius go shopping.

Warnings: Death (in game and mentioned), Nightmare, Anxiety Attack, Cursing, Abuse (mentioned only), let me know if I should add anything else.

Chapter 6: Minecraft Chaos With Lunar and Sirius & Shopping Haul With Sirius and Eclipse

"Hello and welcome to the Eclipse, Blood Moon, and Harvest Moon Show, everyone!" Blood Moon greeted.

"Today we're playing Minecraft with Lunar and Sirius. Today is she/her for me and he/him for Siri." Eclipse clarified.

"For Vessie, we found a way to download Minecraft for them so they can play with us so today is a five-person game for once." Blood Moon announced happily.

"I showed them how!" Lunar happily announced.

"I still have very little idea of what to do." Sirius admitted. Filming was hilarious.

Lunar was chasing a specific bee and dying for it over and over. Sirius kept following the others around and watching what they were doing. Eclipse had managed to create a fully functional Death Star, which had terrified the others so she had gotten rid of it.

Harvest was constantly falling through the world after having dug completely through under their spawn point. Bloody was hoarding sheep and breeding them for a killing machine he'd made Eclipse build after the Death Star.

It ended with the lot of them laughing and giggling like kids as Eclipse remade and activated her Death Star and razed the world. Blood Moon and Harvest had even split from each other due to how much they were laughing and Sirius was trying to hide his chuckling and failing watching a sheep of Blood Moon's falling through the world.

"Alright, everyone, that was today's episode. Just sibling shenanigans. Like, comment, and subscribe for more episodes of the Eclipse, Blood, and Harvest Show." Lunar did the outro for the trio still giggling their asses off at the chicken trying to escape the Death Star's beam.

Once the giggling finally tapered off, they all calmed down and had to take a few minutes more to calm down instead of starting right back up giggling. Sirius was shifting uncomfortably and hands seeming to hide his chest. Oh.

"Girl day suddenly?" Eclipse asked.

"Yeah." Sirius admitted.

"Here." Eclipse handed her a spare sweater. "I should take you to get dresses. I've been meaning to go shopping and get some." Eclipse told her.

"Okay, yeah, we can, I guess. I have money in my account still." Sirius agreed.

"My treat. I have like seventeen thousand left from my last sale."

"Oh, I couldn't that yours-"

"Sirius, we can't possibly spend 17k in one go getting dresses. I'm treating you, come on. We'll get dressed in something comfy and we'll go shopping." Eclipse assured her and dragged her off to her room, putting various clothing on the bed for Sirius to pick and choose from to get dressed.

"You pick anything you want, whatever feels comfortable and easy to get off since we'll probably have to try the dresses on and make sure they fit." Eclipse told her.

"Yeah, okay. Um..."

"I'm not looking, I'm getting dressed too. Can't leave in the jester suit." Eclipse reminded her as she got off her sweater and put on a much more comfortable top and jeans rather than her jester pants. While she was zipping her boots, she checked on Sirius pulling on boots of her own.

"We're the same sizes. It'll be easier to trade then." Eclipse smiled.

"Well, we're practically twins but aren't most models the same size?" Sirius asked.

"No, the twins are a little shorter because of the nanobots. And Lunar just...Lunar has hooves half the time with his tiny form." Eclipse relayed.

"They're shorter? I didn't even notice." Sirius noted as she stood in the boots.

"Alright, ready to go shopping?" Eclipse asked.

"I'm ready."

Shopping was fun, the two looking through together was much akin to kids in a candy store, shoving dresses at each other to try on and Eclipse and Sirius leaving having gotten more than plenty of clothes for both themselves and each other.

Eclipse's new favorite was the short black dress with rhinestone straps and a moon and star pattern all over it. Sirius' ended up being a black crushed velvet dress with a sort of cage on the neckline and lace on the bottom of the skirt.

Both returned giggly and happy and showed off their new clothes to their brothers, Lunar even complimenting Eclipse's new dresses and the twins fawned over Sirius. It was a nice time all around, which Lunar took Sirius back home after so she could go home to her brother after two days away, something her brother may be worried about.

Eclipse went to bed that night pleased with herself, she was happy seeing Sirius so happy with herself. But Eclipse ended up waking from a nightmare of her father at nearly 2 in the morning. She couldn't seem to get back to sleep but she could hear one of the twins up.

Eclipse got up, wandering to her siblings' room, seeing Harvest Moon awake and Blood Moon likely dead asleep and snoring in their head. She laid herself against Harvest, sniffling and they simply held her and brought her to their own bed.

"What's wrong, Clipsey?" Harvest asked softly.

"Nightmare about KC. He came after me again. He tried to kill me." Eclipse explained.

"Clipse, that won't happen. We'll protect you, I promise." Harvest promised her.

"I know, but what if you aren't there? What if he sends you two off and he hurts me again?" Eclipse asked.

"Then we'll take care of you after again. And I won't stop Bloody from going after him. That fucker is not welcome anymore. He is not our father, he is a virus. He hurt you, he can't possibly give a good enough excuse for that." Harvest explained.

"Why me? Why does he hurt me? He loves you two so much but he hurts me. Why does he hurt me?" Eclipse asked, she was breaking back down again into tears, burying against her sibling and Harvest simply rubbed over her back and held her closer.

"He's an asshole, Clipsey. I don't know why he hurts you and not us, but I know there's no reason that he could possibly give that would make it okay. You're his firstborn, he should love you even more than us. But, even if he doesn't, we do love you. And we'll protect you with everything we have."

Eclipse choked a sob. Even if her father didn't love her, the twins did. Her little sibling loved her, they would protect her. She didn't want a shield in them but it felt so much better to know they would protect her. Eclipse felt like the weight was gone from the nightmare. It was still there and it was still scary, but the heavy weight of vulnerability was gone.

"I love you too." Eclipse managed to choke out.

"Get some sleep, Clipsey. It's late, you need some rest. We'll be here the whole time." Harvest assured her and they rubbed over her back a bit more, slowly urging her more and more to sleep until she was asleep against them.

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i-rate-horse-games · 10 months

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Horse Life 4

first off, the picture on the box has nothing to do with the game?? who are those people?? that's just a photograph. false advertising!

the game starts out having you ride around and be led around the area by the friend of your recently deceased grandma, who left you the farm. fortunately you don't have to do any farm management, just use the resources and hang out. the riding mechanic is cool, you tap A repeatedly to build speed and then hold it forever to not slow down. it's exhausting! and a majority of this game is riding around the farm!

you get to care for your horse via minigames. to feed your horse, you get to actually prepare its grains using the 3ds tilting mechanism to pour feed bags, stir it with the touch screen, and then pour into the feeding trough. i like this because i rarely see games use tilting on the 3DS. you also brush your horse, which you can lose if you accidentally brush its face three times in a row like i did. you also pick its hooves, but you just tap four rocks per hoof four times.

it's relaxing. there's pretty scenery and ok background music with lovely bird songs that fooled my cat! for 3d 3DS graphics, i don't think it gets any better than this! the character actually posts trot and canter!

your horse apparently never learned how to jump, but as soon as your dead grandma's old friend suggests you try it, they sail right over low obstacles no problem first try lol

there's this girl named Elizabeth

to progress, you have to ride back and forth all over the place. you don't have to progress to enjoy it, though. as far as I can tell the entire map is open to explore from the start, as well as the events. although a few minigames seem to get unlocked as you go.

this tourist is my favorite. i too collect pinecones and ask people for them

wait oh no

no no no PLEASE no i do NOT want to break this couple up and end up in a romance with this man. no no no. wait. where did Joshua's horse go. this was all the same cut scene but in the second pic he's just standing there. you can't even get off your horse in this game.

nooo not you too mr lumberjack man....

NOOOOO

forget that. check out these limp sleepy cats

we had to cross a river over and over to pick them up off a little island and plunk them down on the other side. we are a hero

in the forest area it's hard to go fast because the paths are narrow and even touching the air off the path makes the horse stop and rear. Elizabeth was there and asked for a rematch and it took me three tries to beat her and the only reason we won was because we learned where she passes us and physically blocked her. "my horse must have stepped on a splinter! there's no pride in your narrow victory." you're right, Elizabeth.

"even if you cheat your way to victory again, it doesn't matter. joshua isn't watching this time. i know exactly what you're up to!" EVERYONE STOP i am NOT HERE to get a Man

starting to get seriously annoyed every time my horse senses a wall and stops dead in its track to rear and screech. we just did like 5 timed quests and my word that did not help

for now, i rate this game 3.5 out of 5 stars!

★★★✬☆

the music is nice, the game is nice, and the quests are pretty fun! the plot didn't hook me but all things considered i think it's alright. there's a two player minigame mode but the other player needs their own copy of the game, but that's still pretty neat. it's a sweet little 3DS horse game, and a tiny world of its own! i wasn't invested enough to finish it, but i did enjoy what time i spent with it.

if you're interested in playing it you can get there pretty quickly if you have a homebrewed 3Ds! wink

#horse game #horse life 4 #horse life #horse #3DS #nintendo 3DS #3.5 stars

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kindheart525 · 4 months

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The ice skating rink was a jolly and festive scene on this crisp winter’s day. The Hearth’s Warming lights of the city glittered upon the ice as ponies of all ages skated over it, some foals just learning and others who were practically professionals. No matter their skill level, everypony was having a good time.

There was so much to see in this scene alone, but Stockholm had her sights set on just one pony: her boyfriend, her beloved, her handsome fancy boy with the tickly beard, Boot Polish.

He was like a graceful swan as he glided over the ice effortlessly, each pirouette sending up a mist of twinkling frost. Never was he more in his element than when he was on the ice, like Queen Luna in the dark blue of midnight.

How Stockholm longed to join him!

She focused on nothing else but Boot as she wandered out onto the ice herself, hoping to glide over to him and join his dance. But as soon as she hit the ice she lost control, her long body unable to stay upright over the razor-thin blades on her hooves.

“Ahh!”

She squealed, instinctively shutting her eyes tight and flailing her paws around for something, anything to grab onto before she went down.

Her prayers were answered as somepony broke her fall, standing firm against her like a banister. The familiar scent of cologne let her know exactly who it was before she even opened her eyes.

“Bootie!”

“By Ardor! You should have called to me before venturing out onto the ice like that. I could have saved you from that fall much sooner.”

“I knowwww!”

Her face grew flushed with embarrassment, although it was clear he wasn’t upset with her at all, just worried.

“I was just too excited, it looked like fun! I guess I just overestimated how well I could balance. I don’t know how you do it!”

“There is no overestimating with you, my love.”

Stockholm’s heart melted as he leaned his warm body into her; Boot always knew just what to say to lift her up.

“If you wish to learn, I can teach you. No better time than the present, after all.”

“Really? You’d do that for me?”

“But of course.”

Boot was earnest in his offer. As much as he enjoyed performing solo tricks on the rink, it could never compare to being able to relish in life’s pleasures with his lover by his side.

“Now, we will start with the basics.”

He guided her paws up until she was holding onto his shoulders and started gliding slowly backwards, leading her along. He was so skilled that he could do pirouettes blindfolded, but Stockholm was moving with much less ease.

“Ooh, I think I’m gonna fall!”

She could recite a full account of the pre-Celestial era from memory, but in her mind she couldn’t skate to save her life. Even with the steady support of her lover, her hooves were shaking and the world was spinning around her as she struggled to stay upright.

“No you won’t, I will make sure of it. Look at me. Focusing on the ground will only worsen your balance.”

Boot instructed her gently, staring up at his tall girlfriend with such love and tenderness that suddenly, Stockholm felt like everything was going to be okay.

“Start with a simple stroke. Two steps, then glide forward.”

“Two steps, glide forward…”

Stockholm repeated to herself as she followed the motions, resisting the urge to glance back down at her hooves. But staring into Boot’s eyes, it was like there was nopony else on the rink, and slowly she began to fall into rhythm.

Boot couldn’t be prouder as he watched her gradually become more confident in her strokes. He’d always known she was a quick learner, bright and intelligent beyond her lifetime. He had no doubt she could pick up skating as well.

“See! You’ve got it.”

The draconequus giggled and blushed, almost unable to believe she was doing this. But she didn’t let it break her stride as she kept going with more vigor.

It was like a scene out of a romantic Hearth’s Warming movie as the two lovers skated together, a gentle snowfall beginning to fall around them.

After what felt like an eternity of gliding in each other’s warm embrace, Boot leaned away just a bit.

“Would you like to try it on your own?”

“Maybe…”

Stockholm slowly lifted her paws off of him and tried to stand upright, but then that shaky feeling returned again. She’d only just started this, she didn’t have the hang of it yet! She almost fell as she gripped back onto the stallion she so adored.

“On second thought, can we just keep going like this?”

Boot smiled up at her with just as much warmth and adoration.

“I would love nothing more.”

~~~~~~~~~~

Background by CratzieKat

#KindsArt #auraverse #boot polish #stockholm #draconequus #next generation #my little pony #mlp fim #mlp g4 #ice skating #christmas #hearth’s warming

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thecandywrites · 1 year

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Monster March 2023 Day 7- Minotaur Part 4

The Rut

Woo, alright, let's unleash all this sexual tension shall we?

As always, thanks to @borealwrites for their Monster March 2023 Prompt List. As well as to @catbatart for their's as well. This is so fun. As you can tell, I had a blast.

Part 4

The Rut Hits

That week, flew by, between appointments and texting Bauvar. As he got to learn much more about you than you thought he would be interested in learning. Although, if you were going to really sell the cover, you figured you’d need to learn these things as you learned more about him too. And you actually really enjoyed what you learned and found out about him and his family and his friends.

But there seemed to be a theme of all of your female appointments, that they were also going to some huge social function that they all needed their own fur, hooves and for the caribou-taurs and caribou minotaurs- their own antlers looking phenomenal for and were all getting their hair and makeup done up for too. And you were sure that it wasn’t the same thing because their thing started at 7, and Bauvar said your thing with him wasn’t until 6 but that he wanted to get dinner first so he was picking you up at 5, which meant you had to be done by 4.

Which meant you couldn’t get any emergency appointments that day, but the other girls did, since emergency appointments could often be two to three times the price as regularly scheduled appointments, so they were making bank. And while you could use the money, you also really wanted to go with Bauvar as you were just happy he hadn’t really reached his rut yet. Because you could always tell by the scent and the look in another tuar’s eyes when they had gotten to that point. But so far, he didn’t smell or look like he had gotten it yet, so you were safe.

You finished with your last client for the day but hung out in the room to use it to get ready for when Bauvar would pick you up since the salon part of the medical spa was packed full.

But you didn’t need such things. You had hidden your own rollers, hidden by a special headband and head wrap. And you hadn’t put any makeup on that day, because you knew you would most likely need to wash the sweat off your face anyway and your gown, picked out from a picture of what Bauvar had sent you of the suit he was going to wear and when you had sent him a picture of the dress on the hanger, he said it was perfect. Of course, how you were going to look in it was probably another matter entirely. You squeezed yourself into some spanks to give you the appearance of a little waist and a push up bra for cleavage and thanks to some double sided tape, you got the entire upper part of the outfit just where you wanted it to stay and thanks to a little capulet, your arms and shoulders were covered before you slipped into your great grandmother’s fur coat that the women in your family had maintained for decades. Add the necklace and earrings he had given you yesterday to go with your dress, which would look stunning together, and makeup, and the last thing was to take the curlers out of your hair as a cascade of curls soon fell like a waterfall down your back as the shine treatment you had done last night was still in play and by the time you were done, you hoped you hadn’t dolled yourself up too much for this.

‘I’m here, sorry, I’m a bit early.’ Bauvar texted you.

‘No, it’s fine, I’m ready now. So meet you at the car?’ You texted.

‘Actually, I have my car right out front.’ He said.

‘Oh, then I’ll be right out.’ You texted back before you locked up the room and walked out, only to get some cheers from all the girls at the front desk to see you fully transformed before you noticed that Bauvar was standing outside, with a limo.

“How do I look?” You asked Macy.

“Killer, knock him dead.” Macy encouraged you.

“Thanks.” You said before you left to meet Bauvar.

“Hey, what’s all this?” You asked as you gestured to the limo.

“For the one woman who works harder than anyone and everyone else. You deserve to have a night on the town.” He offered as he opened the door for you.

“Aww, thanks.” You thanked him as you got into the car just as the other girls got out of their appointments and stared in shock at Bauvar there with a limo before they all fled the spa to greet him.

“Bauvar!” They all called, thinking he was there for any of them as you could see through the window of the limo, the way Bauvar’s face fell as his shoulder’s rose in anxiety as he grimaced at being spotted and recognized.

“Hi, ladies, excuse me, but I’m actually late for my dinner date.” He tried to excuse as he stood between them and you, shielding you inside the car so that none of them could even approach and see you to save you from their rather brutal and vivacious.

“Where are we going?” The most desperate of them asked.

“My girlfriend, who’s already in the car- and I are going. I don’t know where you are going. And frankly, this is quite rude to her. So, if you’ll excuse me, I need to feed her a real dinner before the event tonight, see you there.” He offered before he walked around the car as quickly as he could and managed to get in as soon as he could before their own heedy rut hormones got him to get into his own as he had done all he could to postpone going into it, knowing that- that was what happened with you in the past, a taur would “fall in love” with you during the rut, have an amazing rut and then post rut, split before you finally settled down with your husband, who, unfortunately died not too long ago. And he did not want to be the next to do so and was doing everything he could to keep himself from it.

“I’m sorry about that but the parking garage was crazy and we couldn’t hardly get into it.” He apologized.

“It’s ok. I understand why you asked me to come with. Those girls were about to form a harem around you right there on the sidewalk.” You offered as you slipped your hand into his and squeezed it comfortingly.

“And I know I may look like I’m insane for turning them down.” He offered as he squeezed your hand, using your touch to ground him.

“They’ve been after me to go with them ever since I was hired, and I’ve tried to dip and dodge them because the other guys I work with warned me about them.” He explained.

“So we’re both saving each other from overeager and overzealous potential partners.” You surmised.

“Yes, very much so.” He smiled gratefully.

“So how are the kids tonight?” He asked.

“They’re good. My parents have them at their house for the weekend. My dad is using them to help chop wood for the winter, because they still look mostly taur, they’re happier doing stuff like that and can help chop down trees they’ve already prepared in years past, chop the wood and haul it out of the woods to get enough wood for my parent’s fireplace and wood burning stove as well as ours. Their winter coats grew in very well this year, as well as their insulation, so they’re happy and content to do that this weekend. Which, had you not invited me to come to this, is probably what I would be doing too.” You smiled fondly.

“Don’t tempt me to say ‘screw it’ and have this limo drive us out there, because that sounds infinitely more fun than this stupid thing tonight.” He admitted.

“So what are your plans tomorrow?” Bauvar asked.

“Sleeping, lots of sleeping and getting house chores done. So much laundry. A mountain the size of Denali practically.” You smiled.

“You?” You asked.

“I don’t know, being in the woods and chopping down trees doesn’t sound too bad.” He offered with a shrug.

“Well, you could, you could even go full caribou and join a super-herd and start migrating too.” You teased and laughed when he stuck his tongue out at you before you stuck your tongue back out at him before you both dissolved into laughter and giggles.

“Who let us become adults?” You asked rhetorically with a shake of your head.

“Adult-adults at that. The kind with jobs and careers and responsibilities and stuff.” He recalled with mock resentment.

“And ethics and morals.” You recalled.

“And not the tasty morels, but actual morals.” He offered.

“I know right? Those things are delicious. Speaking of, where are we going for dinner anyway?” You asked.

“Here.” He said as the limo soon came to park right in front of the very high end steakhouse.

“So you can give in to all of your carnivorous desires.” He offered.

“Yes!” You cheered before he quickly got out of the car and opened the door for you and helped you out of the car to walk you into the restaurant where he had already reserved a table which the hostess happily showed you to. He even pulled your chair out for you, like a proper gentleman as you were sure your cheeks were burning through your makeup and practically searing off any blush you’d put on anyway.

“So what looks good?” He asked once you both got the menu as you saw that the menu didn’t have any prices on it. Which to you told that it was probably nosebleed expensive as you didn’t answer him but only took a long exhale through your nose as you bit your lips as you debated about how to answer him.

“Don’t feel guilty or that it’s a stupid, needless expense. It’s a treat. Get what you want. Don’t worry about anything else.” He insisted.

“Just that you’re going to spend your entire 401k on just dinner?” You murmured quietly as you looked over the various dishes, made to sound extra delicious and luxurious.

“Nah, the 401k was spent on the jewelry. We’re going full on stock options for dinner.” He gently teased back as you both snickered a laugh at the ridiculousness of his statement as you peeked over the menus to share a meaningful look before you both looked back to the menus as you could feel him shift his feet under the table where the table cloth went all the way down to the floor practically as his hoof grazed your shoe before he seemed to stretch his legs out under the table to get comfortable before you realized his legs were practically framing your own legs under the table.

“We could have sat at a higher table Bav.” You offered.

“No, it’s fine.” He waived off.

“So now we get to play footsie under the table too? What are we in middle school?” You asked as you lifted your menu as if looking through the table, as if to see where his feet were under it which got him to snicker another laugh.

“Maybe.” He offered with a slightly scheming grin which earned a hum from you before you moved your legs so clamp around his calf with his ankles and he damn near moaned and had to bite it back as he made a fist as you held it there for 30 seconds.

“What is that- that you’re doing?” He asked.

“Compression. It’s a massage technique. Cause I’m also an LMT in addition to everything else.” You offered before you did it to the other leg and he actually nearly slumped in his chair.

“That feels way too good.” He admitted in a soft whisper, for fear anyone would overhear him and think you were actually doing something untoward under the table.

“Post rut, you can book me for a massage. Cause I do those too.” You offered before you let go.

“Yeah, got it.” He nodded.

“This damn rut is gonna kill me.” He muttered under his breath right before the waitress came over to get your orders as he nearly ordered half the menu for you.

“Did you eat anything at all today? Is this the first time you’re eating?” You asked worriedly once the waitress left.

“No, I heard this place was really good and didn’t want you to miss out.” He offered.

“Uh huh.” You slowly nodded in understanding as you tilted your head slightly.

“Bauvar, I don’t know if you’ve noticed, but I’m a big girl, you asked me to order what I wanted and I did. You don’t have to order for me. If I wanted to eat those things, I would have ordered them myself.” You offered.

“Oh, sorry, I wasn’t trying to..” He began to apologize.

“No, it’s ok. I just…don’t want you trying to order the works when all I really want is something simple ok? It’s me. Bianca, please don’t start showing off for me now. Cause then I’ll start to think that…” You began before you stopped yourself from finishing the sentence just as you could faintly smell something in the air as it wafted over the table towards you. Something that you had gotten too good at sniffing out. He was fighting off the rut already because there had been a major cold snap earlier which sent most of your clientele into the rut early too and it had gotten him as well.

“Oh no. When did it hit?” You asked as your eyes got wider as your face fell.

“No, no, it didn’t hit yet. I’m fine. You’re fine. I’ll back off, I’m just nervous. I’ll be fine.” He tried to readily reassure you as he fought to dig into his pockets to grab more of the pills in his coat pocket.

“Hey, hey, what are you taking?” You asked. Once they appeared as you looked at the prescription bottle worriedly before you reached your hand out for him to give it to you before he reluctantly handed it over as you took it and instantly read the label as your shoulders dropped, especially to see when they were prescribed and how few of them were left.

“Bauvar, you literally only have enough to get you through tonight. When you take this last dose, you’re officially on a timer. Because what these do- is only prolong the start of it for so long but the more it’s prolonged- the more intense it’ll hit and the longer it will last on the tail end once you stop taking these, you’re not going to be able to work most of next week, unless you plan on working from home and…” You cut yourself off again before you handed them back to him just as the waitress came back your wine and the first of the appetizers.

“Please don’t be mad.” Bauvar pleaded once the waitress left.

“I’m not mad. I’m just worried as to why didn’t you tell me?” You asked.

“Because of your past experiences, I didn’t want you to think I was going to be just like them. So I’ve fought it off. And I just should have asked for a longer prescription.” He admitted.

“No, you would need to get on another prescription entirely in order to have the side effects be longer, but it would be lifetime levels of longer because you’d be trying to transition from male to female kinds of pheromone inhibitor. Not- delay it for a few days, up to a week. Most taurs take this so that their mates and them can synchronize their own cycles if they’re trying to get pregnant. But that’s usually because they don’t plan on leaving the house for a week. Starting tomorrow, you’re going to be either miserable, or exhausted and practically raw.” You ventured.

“I just wish you would have told me and let it happen naturally so I would know and be prepared is all.” You offered but even he could see your disappointment.

“I just didn’t want you to think it was all rut for me is all.” He murmured quietly as he picked at the food artfully plated on the plates on the table before you reached across the table to hold his hand.

“Bauvar, the fact that you went even to these lengths just to try to ensure my own comfort, means a lot to me. I know you actually really like me. And I know that if it was just a rut thing for you, you would not be fighting it- as hard as you have been. So, lets just eat dinner, pop into the shindig so that you’re seen and heard for your 15 minutes of mandatory kiss the boss’ ass and then we can get you home and get you squared away for the next week or two. Ok?” You urged him.

“Ok.” He offered before he didn’t even bother taking the last dose and instead, just pocketed the pills and enjoyed dinner with you before you went to the party, and because you were “fashionably late” you didn’t have to cue up in line to shake the boss’ hand, give him and his wife the obligatory congrats on hosting the party and all that.

But the shock came when you knew just about every taur in here. Because they were all…all of them, especially the married ones, were your clients.

“Holy cow, you’re here! Wow you look amazing Bianca.” The wives greeted you happily, as they were all relieved that you would be one, genuinely friendly face as you got even more hugs as you were sure your own skin soon soaked up their own pheromones off of their own silky soft fur and if Bauvar was fighting the rut now, it be impossible for him to fight it now that you actually smelled more and more like a cow in heat from all of your female clientele hugging you.

“So whose the lucky guy?” They all asked.

“That one. Bauvar. He saved me last week from another stalking buck in heat. And so to return the favor, I agreed to come with him to this. He was nearly swarmed when he picked me up for dinner.” You divulged.

“Oh! You’re his super secret surprise plus 1! He has been dodgy all week when all the other girls in the office have been hounding him. I think it’s because his antlers this year are quite impressive. And he’s been promoted to junior associate.” One of the senior officer’s wife noted.

“So they’re looking to land Mr. Big promotion and a pay raise?” You ventured.

“Honey, we may be mostly taurs here, but there’s wolves still here, hoping to bank on natural instinct more than actual smarts.” She murmured which got the others to giggle as you could already see the single ladies were practically floating from stag to stag while Bauvar did his best to be seen and say hi to most of the big wigs before you could tell he was getting antsy.

“Well, I’m just glad you’re with him. I had worried some of the girls had gotten their hooks into him. But he’s managed to fight them off, and even if it’s only for tonight, that’ll be enough, at least until next year.” She added.

“Hopefully.” You offered before you looked over at Bauvar who was doing his best to avoid every other female there.

“Wow, those girls really drenched themselves in the estris didn’t they?” You asked as one passed you and your eyes watered and you wanted to gag. Literboxes didn’t smell that bad.

“They did. You better get Bauvar out of here if you want to save him. I give it another 20 minutes before couples start to break out and try to hook up in every corner they can find in here.” She offered.

“Will do. Thanks.” You offered before you finished your drink and threw the cup away.

“Ready?” You asked.

“Please, get me out of here, I feel like I’m about to hump air.” He practically whimpered as you got his arm and escorted him out of there before the limo took you back to your spa where you got in and got your stuff out of your room and locker and went back to your SUV where Bauvar was sitting and waiting patiently in the passenger seat and trying to remain in control of himself.

“Ok, so, type in your address, I’ll get you home.” You offered as you handed him your phone before he did and you practically peeled out of there because you knew you were racing against the clock because he was just hugging himself and wouldn’t even open his eyes for fear he’d see you and want to fuck you senseless as you drove him to his house.

“Ok, drink water, lots and lots of water ok? I’ll be right back.” You urged him as you got into his bathroom to quickly strip out of your gown and slip back into your scrubs so you could get to the grocery store and stock up on enough food and other “supplies” so he wouldn’t have to leave his house for much of anything for a while before you came back and quickly unpacked it as he did his best to stay on the couch, with a blanket wrapped tightly around him to keep him from actually holding you and giving into every urge he had to fuck you senseless.

“Bianca, please, please leave. I can’t…I won’t…I can’t…you gotta, you gotta go. Now.” He pleaded with you as just the scent of you putting the groceries into his refrigerator was enough to pull him from the couch as every piece of clothing felt like it was way too small and way too hot to wear as you hurried to get it all put away as you could tell he was trying to chose miserable for himself to keep you from harm's way. But you also had a feeling that the last person who would knowingly or even unknowingly hurt you was him.

“Do you really want me to go? Or are you asking me to go because you don’t want to hurt me?” You asked him.

“I would never forgive myself if I…” He began but you didn’t let him finish the sentence. Instead you simply pulled his face down to yours to kiss and once you provided that initial spark. That’s when the floodgates opened and you didn’t know exactly when or how, but somehow, you both quickly became naked because you could feel his otherwise almost ethereally soft fur against your bare skin when he stripped you out of your scrubs and undergarments before he pulled you up into his arms and walked you straight to his bedroom that had special spaces at the top of the bed to allow antlers to rest while in the bed.

But he barely laid you down over the covers before in one fell swoop, he quickly joined his flesh with yours and you had to pull your mouth from his to cry out in ecstasy to be so exquisitely stuffed again. It had been far too long since you got so blessed. Every sense was flooded with him. His scent in your nose, his body pressed and stroking into yours and his big dark amber eyes staring at you like you painted the northern lights in the sky yourself. You could hear his breathing and his voice as it moaned and grunted and just kept saying your name because it was the only thing literally in and on his brain, if not his heart too.

“Gods you’re so sexy.” He managed to say between very enthusiastic thrusts.

“So are you.” You mirrored as your legs crossed behind the small of his back as your fingers dipped through his fur to scratch at the skin beneath and it was like you had given him all the permission he needed to unleash every wild, animalistic instinct and drive he had. And that one- singular thing was to rut you so good, you’d get stuffed from cum.

You had forgotten how much you had really missed this. How much you missed the velvety soft fur against your skin, miss the testosterone both in your nose and on your tongue. Miss the power of the thrusts and the over eager zealousness to breed you proper.

And over the course of the night, you felt you had fucked in just about every concievable way, before you passed out in his arms in the early- predawn hours.

#Monster March #Monster March 2023 #Monster March 2023 Day 7 Minotaur #Monster March Day 7 Part 4

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zoyaofthegardvn · 1 year

Note

casual affections as a zoyalina fanfic request <3

Casual Affections

A/N: Thanks so much for your request, anon! So sorry I didn't get to it for a while. I hope this is alright! :)

Turning to look towards her wife, Zoya has to fight the smile threatening to overcome her face when she spots the unmistakable look of Alina Starkov zoning out. It's adorable, really. Her eyes are fixated on the centerpiece of the long council table. Her lips are in a straight line, absent is the shy smirk she usually adorns when it's just the two of them alone. Her eyebrows are furrowed slightly, and her chest rises and falls so slowly, she's likely to fall asleep.

Zoya feels the same way, bored to near tears with these weekly council meetings. Being the Queen of Ravka is fun, yes. But, it's also quite boring. She supposes she should be thankful for the boredom, though. It means there aren't any wars to be won, any backhanded proposals to consider, any disrupted trade routes, any grand disturbances. They discuss the same things nearly every week. Taxes, court promotions, public education, First Army and Second Army training, etc. etc.

As Queen Consort, Alina is expected to attend these meetings, too. Sometimes, Zoya lets her get away with skipping them. She'll claim she's got a lesson to teach at the school, or that she's got an important meeting to attend with the kitchen staff, of all people. She'll say she isn't feeling well, or that she needs to be there for the horses when they get their hooves cleaned or else they get nervous. Eventually, Zoya just had to resort in kissing her to shut her up. She'd pinch her butt, sharp and quick. While Alina would yelp and rub at the sore spot, Zoya would run away, laughing, shouting "You're going, my love!" But still, not as often, just every once and a while, Zoya would let Alina stay in bed, or stay at the school, or stay outside, in the forest. She'd bear almost anything in Alina's place if it made her wife happy.

Zoya sighs, knowing that as cute as she looks, others will eventually notice Alina is not paying any attention to them. She moves her left hand to rest on the top of Alina's thigh, admiring the way her wedding ring catches the light as it moves. The touch snaps Alina out of her trance, and she takes a deep breath in, shaking her head a bit to clear the fog.

She turns to look at her lover, her wife, her Queen. Zoya gives her a playful shake of the head, then squeezes her thigh, digging her nails in slightly. Alina jumps, and shoots a fierce look at Zoya. She leans in slightly before whispering, "That was mean, Z!"

Zoya can hardly contain her giggles. She whispers back, "As mean as you ignoring our council, little saint?"

Alina rolls her eyes and sticks her tongue out, then turns back to face the table. They hadn't noticed the silence, everyone had stopped their chattering to observe the Ravkan Queens. From the other end of the table, Genya is shaking her head at the two of them.

Zoya clears her throat, and then she stands. "Well, my friends, I think we've not learned much more today than we did last week. Let us call an end to it, and maybe next week, we'll have things worthy of our precious time to discuss?"

At this, Alina stands quickly, her chair making a screeching sound as it gets pushed backwards. "I think what our Queen means is that, maybe we should not draw these things out unless absolutely necessary." She gives a polite, awkward laugh, trying to ease any tension. But their council is used to this by now, used to Zoya's impatience and Alina's ability to mediate any conflict.

Genya speaks next, "Yes, my Queens. Perhaps these meetings do get a bit tedious. We should work on keeping them... brief."

Zoya grasps Alina's hand in her own, rubbing her thumb along the back of her hand. "That's a wonderful idea, we'll see everyone later this evening, for dinner?" Everyone at the table nods, beginning to stand and pick up their paperwork.

Zoya gives a polite bow, then turns to leave the council room. Alina follows, their hands still intertwined. When they make it to the hallway, Alina scolds her, "You can be so bossy!"

Zoya smiles, she removes her hand from Alina's, instead choosing to wrap her arm around her beloved's waist. "Don't act like you don't like it, darling. You weren't complaining about my bossiness last night..."

Alina, never truly upset with her, throws her head back and laughs. The sound invades Zoya's heart, wrapping around it like a string, tightening her hold on her love and adoration even more than she thought possible.

"You are terrible sometimes, Zoya." She wraps her arm around Zoya too, then rests her head on her shoulder.

"I know, you're just so easy to rile up, and you know I like you riled up."

Again, that laugh fills the air. It bounces off the walls, it flutters out the open windows. It makes Zoya feel giddy and impossibly young.

"Should we retire to our room before we reconvene for supper? I think I would like to boss you around some more, you should be punished for your rudeness today, my Queen. Zoning out, it's very disrespectful, you know." Zoya doesn't even need to look at her wife to know she's likely redder than the keftas the Corporalki wear.

"Well, I suppose that would be alright..." Alina's voice has gotten deeper, quieter. It's Zoya's turn to laugh now. They continue down the long corridor, on the path that leads to their ornate bedroom. Two bodies intertwined the entire way there.

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oopdeathnote · 1 year

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@juicequeen21 did a past literally ages ago about Death Note Horse AU and as a horse girl I would love to write a fic but I simply do not have any ideas for a plot, so here are some headcanons instead

Death Note Horse AU Headcanons

Light is just bad at horse riding. You really need to be good at accepting where you went wrong and keeping a level head to be good at horse riding, and Light is neither of those things.

He has all of the equipment, multiple matching combos of jackets, gloves, jodhpurs/breeches and hat silks, the cleanest tack this earth has ever seen, and you think he’s going to be really good at it but he just sucks.

L has the same ratty old crop he has had since he was seven, the material covering the handle as mostly peeled off. He does not wear gloves, and only wears a hat when he’s forced to. But he’s really good at riding.

I imagine Light has a horse that’s a little too fancy for him. Like, it’s not one of those completely insane thoroughbreds, but Light definitely doesn’t sit still enough and the horse is like ‘do you want a lead change? Backwards? Do you want backwards? Sideways perhaps?’

It’s a chestnut thoroughbred gelding (boy horse that’s had its bits removed), to match his hair, obviously.

For L, I’m stuck between a pony (small horse) and a horse that’s really too tall for competitions, but I like the mental image of L just towering over Light on his 18 hand (6ft) shire-thoroughbred cross so we’re going with that.

It’s this giant, shaggy horse with hooves the size of dinner plates and its head is about as big as L’s whole torso and L has had it since he was young. They’re bffs. He manoeuvres this massive horse around tight corners with the power of friendship.

Light sees all this and is so unbelievably salty about it. He doesn’t cope well with being bad at something at the best of times, and this just about breaks him.

Light is like ‘i think my horse is just bad’ and L is like ‘alright then we’ll swap’ and Lights horse is like ‘thank god someone component is in charge’. L’s horse is having a great time and just does not listen to Light at all.

The mental of image of Light trying to get on this giant horse from the ground pleases me greatly. Light refuses to get a leg up from L because he’s seen L mount the horse from the ground so he can too >:(

After having time to reflect Light’s hatred of being worse than everyone else wins over and he begs L to teach him

First thing L does is take away Light’s stirrups, and Light hates it. If there is one bit of riding that you will suffer from if you’re tense it’s stirrupless riding, because you need to move with the horse otherwise you end up bouncing on its back. Light is abysmal at it.

L definitely shares apples with his horse

L getting Light to play gymkhana games (had to look the spelling of that up) and Light is super reluctant at first ‘because they’re for kids >:( I am an adult I do not play children’s games >:(‘ but because he’s Light and he’s woefully competitive he gets really into it.

For those who don’t know gymkhana races are things like you have to ride down to the bottom of the school, pick up a ball, get back on the horse with the ball and drop the ball into a bucket (if the ball bounces out you have to get off and put it back in again). It’s really good fun, but also you have to have good control over the horse to win.

I feel like this could be Horse AU’s equivalent to the tennis match

L taking Light on mad canters/gallops up hills to blow off steam

Basically Light learns to actually have fun and by extension get better at riding and L makes a friend

Damn maybe I do need to write a fic now

Feel free to add your own in the notes

#this ones for 2 people in the death note fandom who like horses #death note #light yagami #l lawliet #death note headcanons #deathnote #horse au #this could be very cute actually #i love horses sm #the horsee girl really came through in this one huh #im at uni atm and i think i miss horses #other acceptable horses for L to ride include highland pony #fjord horse or a cob

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briamichellewrites · 1 year

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Brad appreciated Elliot letting him know that she had purchased a gun for protection. She was going to take it to the shooting range to practice shooting since she had never used a gun before and she was a little nervous. He reminded her to keep both of her eyes open and shoot straight. What kind of gun did she get? It was a Glock 20 with twenty-millimeter rounds. It was a little bigger than her hand. Did she have a lock box or a safe? No, she would buy one.

Good. Even though she didn’t have kids, he didn’t want the cats accidentally setting it off. Neither did she. He had shot guns before but they were filled with blanks, instead of real bullets. If she needed advice or help, he would do the best he could to help her. She would. How were the animals? Duchess was a little impatient with her earlier when she was cleaning her hooves.

“What’d you do?”

“I used my mom’s voice and she apologized. Milo is sitting on Mike’s lap right now and Phoenix is with Bear.”

He laughed. “That’s adorable. Is she usually stubborn or was it just a bad day?”

“She is usually pretty good but she has her moments. Lady is the stubborn one. She came over after I scolded her to make sure she was okay. Then, one of the dogs used the floor as a bathroom right after I swept.”

He laughed again. Which dog was it? It was Rocky. Oh, no. She had to clean it up, which she did with a couple of paper towels. The dogs had followed them into the barn and were running around while she was working. Did they get near the horses? No, they were afraid of them. After talking for a while, he had to say goodbye because Anna had come over to pick up Shiloh. They both said I love you and goodbye.

Since she had the call on speaker, the guys could hear both sides of the conversation. He sounded happy and healthy. How often did she talk to him? It was about once or twice a week. It depended on what he and the kids were doing. They saw him and the kids about once or twice a month. They were told that the kids were homeschooled and traveled around with him, just like she had. Shiloh was the only one in school because Anna didn’t want her to miss the opportunity to interact with other children.

Did she regret that? Not really because she never had the experience of going to school. She learned more than what school could teach her about the world and people. Those experiences were ones she would never otherwise have. She had two options and either way she chose would have her missing her father or missing Mike and Anna. It was a tough decision but she didn’t regret it.

Mike wasn’t offended. He always wanted her to have those opportunities and he enjoyed those moments when she stayed with them. There were things he didn’t agree with: drinking and smoking. Yeah, her father told her once that he regretted that because she was only a child. He was just thankful she didn’t become dependent upon them. She would never start smoking again because of the cancer risk. Good! She deserved a lifetime without lung cancer!

It was too damn cold to be standing outside with a cigarette! They laughed. The first winter, she questioned whether or not she had made the right decision. The bartender made fun of her once for saying fifty degrees was cold. That was warm for them! They wore sweatshirts in forty-degree weather while she was in a winter hat and mittens.

When the snow fell for the first time, she felt like a little kid who wanted to go outside and play. She had to buy winter gear: hats, mittens, boots, jackets, and scarves for the first time. Overalls were her best friend because they were waterproof and they kept her body warm. They also fit perfectly over her boots, keeping her feet warm. They didn’t know if they could live somewhere cold. They were too used to living in California.

“It’s not for the faint of heart. Everything in your nose freezes. Forty degrees is a heatwave. Some people go out in just their sweatshirts, while I’m still freezing my ass off.”

“You have three fireplaces, I think you will be warm enough”, Mike joked.

“All three fireplaces are essential to survival! I wrap myself up in blankets and become a cat.”

They laughed. You’re adorable.

Shiloh was eighteen and ready to graduate high school. Brad wasn’t ready to let her go. He would prefer she stayed in high school forever, so she couldn’t move on. What if he invented a potion that made her stay home with him? She told him no way. He laughed. Anna also wasn’t ready to have her leave home, though she was extremely proud of her. Zahara was already in college at Spelman University in Atlanta while Maddox was at Yonsei College in South Korea.

At fourteen years old, Knox and Vivienne were in seventh grade while Pax was getting ready to graduate high school. The kids had zero contact with Angelina after Brad left her. They didn’t want anything to do with her after seeing how she treated him. She had waged a public campaign against him accusing him of being abusive towards them and he even had the FBI investigate him due to a report of abuse.

He was found innocent of any wrongdoing. His friends and family stuck by him because he was the victim of abuse, not the abuser. Shiloh was headstrong and stubborn, so she butted heads with Anna. When she was three, she insisted she was a boy named John. Growing up, she wore boys’ clothes and played with her brothers. She’s your daughter. He laughed. Yes, she was. She reminded them of Elliot when she was younger.

Horses were interesting animals. They had been around for hundreds of years and had come to the new world by the Spanish in the fourteen hundreds. They were used as transportation and pets. Elliot loved them because they were comforting to her. They were intimidating and scary, though they wouldn’t hurt a fly.

Mike and Phoenix were a little scared of them at first because they towered over them but soon, they were able to gently pet them. Lady and Duchess. They watched them galloping outside. It was twenty degrees outside but they were perfectly happy running around in the snow. Elliot had her new gun ready, in case she had to scare off any predators. She also had her bat with her. The horses chased after each other, like kids running around. They looked like they were having fun.

She had thrown an inflatable ball in and they were kicking it around. Despite how cold it was, they were having fun watching them. Lady nudged the ball with her head while Duchess tried eating the snow. As toddlers, they were exploring their surroundings and had energy for days. They were also learning how to behave. Elliot was doing a great job with that.

They could both tell by the tone of her voice when they were in trouble. Positive reinforcement. After they had corrected their behavior, she gave them a kiss or a pet. I love you. They loved her too. She was their human. After running around for an hour, they both got tired and cold. They went back inside the barn, where they could eat and have fresh water. Their hooves tapped on the concrete floor as they went back to their stalls. Tap. Tap. Tap.

After making sure they were okay, the three of them went back inside. Rocky and Bear came to greet them at the door. They had been abandoned and she smelled like horses. Their food bowls were also empty and they were about to die of hunger. She sighed and asked them to give her a few minutes. Phoenix and Mike laughed. Her work was never done. She agreed!

Her animals could be very demanding, especially when they were hungry. The cats, seeing an opportunity for food, also came over and started meowing. Human, I’m hungry! Meow. Meow. After getting her outdoor clothes off, she fed the dogs before feeding the cats. She then checked on her fish.

They were happily swimming around. She had fed them at breakfast, so they were good for twenty-four hours. Milo thanked her for feeding him by rubbing against her legs. She bent over and picked him up. Did she name her animals? No, they all came with names. She decided not to change them because she didn’t want to confuse them.

“It’s interesting because when I mention Milo and Lily, people think I’m talking about my kids. I have to tell them no, I’m talking about my cats.”

“I love your dogs’ names. Rocky and Bear. If I had two German shepherds, I would name them Rocky and Bullwinkle”, Phoenix joked.

“That’s perfect! If I get another German Shepard puppy, that will be their name. Rocky, Bullwinkle, and Bear.”

“You’re welcome”, he joked.

@zoeykaytesmom @feelingsofaithless @alina-dixon

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dangerousstrawberryshark · 3 years

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A Horse Trip

Tom Holland x Rider Male Reader

Request from Kili

Warning: no warnings, just fluff. Also, this one is short!

Background: Your boyfriend Tom decided he wanted to try and ride a horse. He wanted you to teach him since you knew how to ride one. He ended up failing and decided to ride with you on your horse. On the way, you guys stopped to have a break.

(if Tom does know how to ride a horse in real life then just pretend he doesn’t know. Couldn't think of a good title)

M/n: Male name.

H/n: Horse name.

Word count: 840

Hope you enjoy it! Sorry if it's bad!

You and Tom felt the wind stream past you as the horse was galloping at 25-30 mph. Tom was holding onto you trying not to fall off. You could hear the sound of the horse’s hooves. And Tom complains about how he can’t ride a horse but you can.

Now you may be wondering why he is complaining. Welllll…..

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FLASHBACK (1 hour ago)

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“Please?! Come on M/n!” Tom has been bothering about riding a horse. You were born in the country boy, while Tom was a city boy. Tom assumed since you were born in the countryside, you would know how to ride a horse and he was right.

You did know how to ride a horse since you were 10. “Ugh, fine…. Go get ready.” Tom was surprised at first since you always say no whenever he asks. “Yeahhh!” Tom immediately got up and got dressed.

Tom came back down ready. “Let's go!” he said grabbing your arm and pulling you to his car. You then drove to your grandparent's house where the horses are kept.

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Time skip (30 minutes later)

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You guys arrived at your grandparent's but they weren’t there. “Where are your grandparents?” Tom asked looking at you worriedly. “They're not dead if that’s what you're thinking. I think they're visiting my parents?” you shrugged your shoulders before walking the horse pen with Tom following behind you.

“Alright Tom, as you can see these are the horses. The one over is H/n, that’s mine house. You can pick one if you want or you can stick with mines.” Tom was making a decision on whether he should go with your horse or another horse.

“I think I'll go with that horse, the one on the left side.” it was like your horse, she/he was Friesian. The one most beautiful horse breeds in the world.

Tom was about to go in before you stopped him. “Wow, hold your horses there. You need to know how to properly handle these animals.” Tom stopped in his tracks to look at you. “You need to know the safety tips first!”

“First safety tip, you need to wear a helmet in case there is an unplanned dismount. Second safety tip, stay alert! Riding is fun but since you are learning you can get distracted. Your handling a living, breathing, unpredictable animal. Be aware of other horses, and the surrounding. Third safety tip, wear proper footwear. Here you need these.” you handed Tom everything he needed to be safe.

“Now can I go?” you nodded your head as Tom entered the pen with you following behind him. Tom was excited to ride one. “Be sure to put everything on!” you yelled, Tom obliged.

To be honest, Tom was a little tense approaching the animal. “Alright now get on it,” you said while holding the horse in place.

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Time skip (10 minutes)

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(didn’t do that because I was lazy)

Tom began to ride the horse. It was going well until the horse decided to do a backflip. “Oh my God! Tom are you alright?” you said trying to hold back the laughter. “Ughhh… Oww my head…” You were laughing so hard now. “Stop laughing at me!” Tom pouted.

(y’all have ever seen that video where the horse flips over while a woman was riding it?)

“I’m sorry Tom, here.” you handed your hand out. “Why did it do that?!?!” you laughed harder. “Apparently it didn’t like you. Hey, how about we have a picnic? We’ll ride on my horse. Hold on tightly though.” Tom agreed with you.

——————————————————————

FLASHBACK OVER

——————————————————————

You remembered everything that happened earlier and laughed. “Hey, stop laughing, that wasn’t funny!”

Tom said slapping you back. “Sorry, it just popped back into my mind. Either we’re here!”

You guys arrived at a little hill where you’ll be having your picnic. You leashed up your horse making sure it does run away. Then you and Tom had a great time together, he was still mad about the whole horse thing but he got over it.

The sun began to set. The beautiful colors brilliantly red and orange filled the sky. It was very romantic. “I love you, Tom.” “I love you too M/n,” Tom said putting his arm around you, pulling you closer to him. You leaned against and watched the sunset together.

‘What an eventful day.’

THE END

#tom holland #no warning #x male reader #tom holland x male reader #fluff #horse riding #requested #no smut

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comfyswitcherblanketfort · 4 years

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Horse info 101

A horse girl’s guide to the basics for fic writing with an important and lively horse involved:

This got kinda long I’m kinda sorry but not at all lol

There's three basic gaits (speeds with different patterns of hoof-fall/leg movements

Walking is the slowest and is a four beat gait, meaning each foot hits the ground at a different time. Usually the same pace as a walking human when the horse is calm. Some breeds can walk HELLA fast though. Most horses will fill the same spot/hole where their front hoof was with their back hoof on the same side. If they overstep they clip their fetlock (joint lookin bit above the hoof) or pastern (bit between the hoof and fetlock) and can injure themselves.

Now trotting. The middle gait, a person can jog next to a trot at a comfortable pace but if you push them a little horses can trot faster than your average HS track endurance athlete. Once again some breeds can trot HELLA fast. This is a two beat gait in that two diagonally opposite legs are moving in unison. In some english saddles (I’ll get into that later if we have class time) it’s easier to post while the horse is trotting rather than sit for the gait. That just means you stand up in the irons (stirrups on an english saddle, we’ll also cover that later) at the same time that one of the front legs moves forward.

Also, see how the trotting horse’s head looks? That’s how they travel when they’re relaxed and attentive. The tucked head thing you see Roach doing is because there’s tension on the reigns and Henry learned to ride for an english seat not a western pleasure seat (might get into those but they’re really not important)

Time for the Canter/Lope. This is a three beat gait so that means two legs are moving in unison and the other two are not. Horses canter/lope fast. This is the go-time gait. Some performance/dressage horses are trained to canter extremely slow but if we’re talking transportation trained horses they’re not gonna be that kind of slow. Your average human is not gonna be able to keep up with this for long if at all. This varies in speed too. There's a rather casual canter seen in the gif directly below, then below that is the balls to the wall canter/lope that most horse people just refer to as a run. That’s as fast as they can go.

Basic tack names

Halter + Lead/Lead Rope - these can be made of rope, leather, nylon (more modern) but the halter is generally used for leading and tying.

Bridle - this is the one that you use while you ride, it holds the bit in their mouth. There’s millions of different types of bridles but they’re usually made out of leather even now. sometimes you get rope/nylon ones but I don’t trust them.

Reins - connect to the bit and you use them to steer and control speed. Horses trained in western or one handed riding will ‘neck rein’ which means if you move your hand to the right and the left rein brushes their neck they will move to the right.

Bit - the metal piece in the horses mouth. most english riding bits are broken (joint in the middle) and most western ones are solid. there’s a gap behind the horse’s front teeth and that’s where the metal sits. Some horses have smaller mouths than others and do better with solid bits because the ‘broken’ ones will hit the top of their mouth and hurt. There’s also things called ‘shanks’ on some bits which are just longer pieces of metal that attach to the sides of the pieces in their mouth and point downward. This gives the rider more leverage and makes any tug on the reins stronger. (google “Horse bit shank” if this doesn’t make sense)

Saddle - you sit in it. simple right? wrong. There’s two main types of saddles, Western - with the horn like you see in the running gif, and English- the loping gif without the horn. The saddles used in the Witcher look like the pre-english saddle versions but the basic parts you need to know are the same. The part where you ass goes? that’s the seat. the part right in front of your crotch? That’s the pomel. that’s your ‘oh shit handle’ if anything goes screwy (other than the mane). The part that sticks up and keeps your ass in place? That’s the cantle. I like western saddles SO MUCH MORE but i also grew up mainly riding western so im biased.

Stirrups/Irons - stirrups and irons are where your feet go. In western saddles they’re called stirrups and they’ve got wider decorative leather flaps (called fenders, also originally added to protect trousers/legs from the horse sweat and the buckles of the cinch) and on english saddles they’re called irons because they are usually made of iron and rather slim. Geralt’s irons look pretty similar to modern ones, slim leather straps, minimal iron (or steel or any other strong metal really). Traditional english riders have knee high boots like you see in regency costumes which removes the need for the fenders like on western saddles.

Cinch/girth - this is what keeps the saddles on. You take a strap and attach it to one side of the saddle, run it under the belly right behind their front legs and attach it to the other side. Its usually made of a strong fabric with wool or some kind of softer lining for western riding. English riding uses a leather one most of the time though this horse girl hates them because they’re harder to cinch up. English saddles use buckles while Western saddles use another leather strap to run through the chinch/girth buckle and you either tie it off or use it like a belt.

Chest strap - this keeps the saddle from sliding backwards. It’s attached to both sides of the saddle by buckles and between the front legs its attached to the cinch/girth. this is pretty universal but not always used. Geralt uses one though.

Saddle pad - goes under the saddle to protect the baby’s back and whithers (spot where the neck meets the back and the mane ends)

Tacking up and untacking takes time. This is usually 5-10 minutes when done at a leisure pace and done right.

Basic grooming

Brush down before tacking up - you don’t want stuff chaffing the pony while you ride

brush after untacking- helps clear skin of irritants and feels nice

Shedding scraper/curry comb to get rid of shedding hair - if you want a pic of these just google them I think I’m close to the pic limit for my post.

HOOF PICK - keep the baby's feet clean and clear if rocks so they don't bruise but also so nothing get infected

Yes, plz brush their mane it gets MATTED - a hairbrush works but a wide tooth comb is best

Horses roll to itch their backs and clean off, sounds counterintuitive with the dirt but it works

Shaving a little spot for the bridle to sit is pretty modern but it's easier for everyone involved

Horse Colors- guys roach is not brown she’s a chestnut color

The only thing I have to add to this is that the “Leopard” one is called “appaloosa” in the US at least, and “Pinto” is also reffered to as “Paint” and there’s all sorts of different patterns that you can see. also i want a buckskin so bad. yes i was obsessed with Spirit as a child why do you ask?

Travel care of your babies

Horses CAN and have subsisted off roadside grasses and grazing at night BUT it's good for them to get a lil something extra ESPECIALLY if you’re keeping them in a stall at night where they can’t graze.

Hay and grains like cracked wheat, oats, barley and the like are commonly found in horse feed. Also a lil drizzle of molasses is chock full of calories and all my horses LOVE the taste.

also while we’re talking food: some horses cant keep all the juice/bits in their mouth when they eat apples (we fondly call it making applesauce) or other treats/veg. Yes it gets all over your hand, yeah its kinda gross, but there’s worse things.

Shoes. Babe's need horse shoes. Especially if they're walking over rocks and roads.

Throwing a shoe (when it comes off on accident) is painful sometimes and if left un-dealt with can affect their joints and spine. Imagine walking around in one heeled shoe and one athletic shoe all day. Ow.

On that note though, on lighter travel seasons it's nice to give their hooves a break from shoes (also cheaper)

Horse moods:

horse mood ear chart here: I cant add much tbh

If a horse is comfortable/happy/relaxed they will ‘chew’ on nothing. Just kina a little lip smack type deal. My horse’s bottom lip would hang a couple centimeters below his top one when he was relaxed and I would put my chapstick in it while I fussed with other things.

When a horse is uncomfrotable/scared/tense their lips get sealed tight. I call it ‘fish butt lips’ bc they’re watertight and NOTHING is getting in there.

Stamping hooves can be a few things. Antsy and ready to roll, nervous, deadass scared, or playful/excited.

A full whinny is communication - saying hi, warning, scared, etc.

the really soft whinny is called a nicker and its my favorite sound okay? that’s little soft communication and its usually reserved for times when they’re comfortable.

When they’re really relaxed they’ll cock one of their back legs kinda how we shift our weight to one hip.

general fun facts:

Some horses fake limp when they don’t want to work bc they are lazy and smart and realize their person will get off and check them out and maybe even give them a rest.

You do a preliminary leg injury test by running your hands slowly over their legs and checking for hot spots - inflammation caused by injury is warm

Basic horse saftey is never stand directly in front of the horse if theres a possibility of spooking, if you’re gonna walk behind them walk out of reach of their hooves or right up against that ass. If they cant get a good wind up it wont do as much damage (on that note though I rode/trained horses for 18 years and was only kicked once by a foal).

It’s kinda common sense not to walk/sidestep between your horses legs and under their belly but we do it all the time bc its a trust thing? adrenaline? its fun?

laying on your horse’s back sans saddle, and facing their butt is so nice okay, that ass is soft and cushy and perfect for a nap. I miss laying on my horses while they ate like this every damn day.

Horses can sense your moods. Not unlike the whole ‘witchers smelling you’ thing. They can feel a difference in the tension on the reins and in your posture when you’re tense or relaxed.

Some horses will take care of their riders, some are absolute shits and push the limits for funsies. Some horses will only behave for people they’re used to too. Some horses have trauma from being mistreated and will have triggers kinda like people do. We had a horse who would freak the fuck out if anyone walked around with a red had but as soon as you took it off she was the most level headed horse we had.

A good portion of horses (Who aren’t scared of children) will behave better with kiddos or novice riders because they feel they’re nervous.

If they hurt while they’re moving they usually limp but sometimes they’ll buck. It’s their defense mechanism.

Horses can’t sleep for too long laying down because their body weight will collapse their lungs. Most horses sleep standing up.

They can sit like a dog and it’s hella cute.

Stung by bees? Most horses will take off at a dead sprint bucking and hopping unless you’ve done a lot of trust work/training with them

They also run and jump and buck and rear to play.

If theres two horses in a pasture together one will chew at the other’s whithers (or anywhere else) to ask them to scratch them the same way. its very cute and they sometimes try this with people.

horses hug. I cry.

the whole deal with the rider/horse relationship is it’s a mutual trust you’re building. They let you sit on their back and do weird shit and you trust them not to throw you.

Thank you for coming to class today! If there’s any questions feel free to message me! I’m not kidding I wanna answer your questions and I miss my horses so this is fun for me.

@elliestormfound here it is boo! lol

#the witcher #fan fic #writing tools #horse girl geralt #horse girl solidarity #this got out of hand but what can i say

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ironwhumper359 · 3 years

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“Just a short little prompt fill” I said to myself. “Something to work on in my downtime between longer fics.” Oops I made a whole au and I’m attached to it now, lol.

14: “Good news! I brought you a friend.”

CW: Pet whump, creature whump, fantasy au, restraints, referenced conditioning, child whumper

---

“More tea, Daisy?” Matilda asked, holding up her porcelain teapot. Daisy eyed her for a moment, and Matilda giggled. “You can answer, silly!”

“Yes please, Lady Matilda,” Daisy said immediately.

“Here you go!” Matilda said, tipping the pot forward to mime pouring. “One lump of sugar or two?”

“Two please, my lady,” Daisy said, and Matilda nodded primly, picking up a small set of tongs.

She mimed dropping two lumps of sugar into Daisy’s cup, then one into her own. She put the cup to her lips and pretended to drink, grinning when Daisy did the same.

“I have to say, Daisy, your wings are looking particularly ex-quis-ite today!” Matilda chirped, slowly sounding out the larger word she’d often heard her mother use at grown-up garden parties. “I love how the light catches them just so!”

An expression Matilda couldn’t quite read flashed through her fairy’s eyes for a moment, but before she could figure it out Daisy’s smile was back, wider and brighter than before.

“Thank you, Lady Matilda.”

“You’re welcome!” Matilda said cheerfully, swinging her legs a bit as she pretended to take another sip of tea. “Oooh, ooh, guess what!”

“What is it, Lady Matilda?” Daisy barely had time to ask before Matilda launched into her story. Mother often said she talked too much for polite conversation, but that was part of what was fun about playing with Daisy, Matilda didn’t need to be polite!

“Father will be coming home today!” she said, clapping her hands. “And that means I’ll get a present! He always brings me a present when he comes home from trips, and I hope it’s something really nice, he’s been gone for so long this time…what do you think he’ll bring me? Maybe a new dress, or a box of sweets...do you think he’ll bring something for you, too Daisy? Oh I’d like that, maybe a new satin cushion for your cage, or a set of gold combs for me to put in your hair, wouldn’t that just look so beautiful with your leash and collar?”

“Matilda!” her mother called sharply, interrupting Matilda’s musing about her presents. “Time to put your toys away now, your father will be home soon.”

“Aww, but Mother-”

“I won’t tell you twice, Matilda,” her mother warned, and Matilda sighed.

“Fiiiine.”

She got to her feet and quickly scooped up the dolls and teddy bears she had set around the table to make up the rest of the tea party’s guests. She dropped them into her toy chest, then walked back to where Daisy was sitting, unhooking her leash from the brass loop on the side of the table.

“Come on, Daisy,” Matilda said, tugging on the leash, and Daisy quickly scrambled to her feet. When Matilda had first gotten her last year, Daisy had stood a few inches taller than her, but Matilda had grown a bit since her eighth birthday, and now she was about the same height as her pet.

Matilda led Daisy to her cage, which took up the entire corner of the playhouse. Her father had ordered it to be custom made just for Daisy, and it reminded Matilda of a bigger version of the parrot cage she’d once seen at a party at her cousin’s estate. Daisy slipped inside, waiting patiently by the door as Matilda made sure the lock was secure before reaching through the bars to unclip the leash from the shiny golden collar she wore around her neck. She hung the leash on a hook on the cage door, then grinned, waving at her pet.

“Bye Daisy!” she said. “I’ll come visit you again after supper, alright?”

She skipped out into the garden, where her mother was waiting to close the playhouse door behind her.

“Did you remember to lock the cage, dear?” Mother asked, and Matilda rolled her eyes.

“Yes, Mother.”

“Good. Now, come with me. Your father will be home any minute, and he has a surprise for you.”

A grin stretched across Matilda’s face. She couldn’t wait to find out what it was!

---

Matilda was not an unkind little girl. She was sweet, polite, and as far as Lorrella could tell, never hurt anybody on purpose.

This, of course, did little to soothe the chafed skin beneath Lorrella’s collar or the ache for freedom in her heart.

Matilda did not seem to realize that her beloved fairy was a prisoner in the opulent playhouse her father had built her on the grounds of their family manor. She never registered Lorrella’s discomfort, though that was mostly because Lorrella took great pains to hide it from her. Matilda was bound to become upset if her pet wasn’t acting happy, after all.

And rule number one was Don’t upset Matilda.

So Lorrella couldn’t really blame the girl for not realizing when she was uncomfortable, but Matilda still didn’t seem to think twice about leading her around on a leash like a dog or locking her in a six by six foot cage whenever they weren’t “playing together.” She certainly hadn’t been interested in learning Lorrella’s real name, content instead to dub her “Daisy” because it sounded pretty.

Daisy was a dress up doll, a hair model, an audience for impromptu storytimes and a companion for tea parties and garden outings. Whatever Matilda wanted for as long as she wanted, that’s what Daisy had to be. Lorrella was allowed to exist only in these quiet moments when Matilda left her here alone; when nothing was wanted of her and she could whisper her name into the empty room so that she would not forget it.

The most frightening thing was that while Lorrella longed for such a reprieve when she was with Matilda, whenever she was alone, she’d begun to find herself wishing for the girl’s company. Lorrella was nobody, did nothing, belonged nowhere when Matilda was gone. Daisy, at least, had something to do, had something to be, even if that something was little more than an object to be shaped and molded by someone else.

Daisy belonged to Matilda, but Daisy had a purpose. Lorrella belonged to no one, but her life had ceased to have meaning altogether.

The door to the playhouse suddenly burst open and Lorrella jumped in surprise as Matilda darted into the room.

“Daisy!” she cried, running up to the cage and grinning from ear to ear. “Good news! Father brought you a friend!”

Lorrella blinked and tilted her head, a silent question. Matilda reached through the bars and patted her on the head, then grabbed her collar and pulled. Lorrella suppressed a wince at the sudden jerk of movement and leaned forward so that Matilda could clip the leash on.

“Come on, come on, you have to see it!” Matilda said. As soon as she had Lorrella out of the cage, she dashed out of the room, and Lorrella had no choice but to follow as quickly as she could.

Matilda hurried through the grounds and Lorrella stumbled after her, biting back a yelp every time Matilda ran too fast or turned too suddenly for her to keep up. Her neck was already growing sore, and she’d tumbled over enough times that her knees would be bound to have an angry smattering of fresh bruises by morning. She desperately wanted to call out for Matilda to slow down, but she held her tongue.

Rule number two was Never speak unless spoken to.

Matilda finally skidded to a halt outside the family stables, and Lorrella let herself fall to her knees beside her, gasping for air.

“Father!” Matilda called, knocking on the stable door. “I brought Daisy to come see it too! Can we come in?”

Lorrella stared at Matilda incredulously. All this fuss just to meet a new pony?

Matilda’s father appeared at the door, and Lorrella shrank back, casting her eyes downward.

“Yes, my dear,” he said. “But you must remember to move slowly, alright? It is still quite wild, and not used to people yet.”

Matilda nodded solemnly, and her father opened the door wide, allowing her to pull Lorrella inside. They passed through most of the stable and Matilda occasionally paused to wave at a favorite horse, but they didn’t stop moving until they reached the end of the row of stalls. The stall at the back was open, and as they approached, Lorrella could hear the stable hands muttering to each other.

“Shit! Hold the damn thing still, will you? I can’t buckle these straps tight enough when it’s squirming so much!”

“I will thank you,” Matilda’s father said coldly,” to not swear in front of my daughter.”

The two snapped to attention instantly, twin looks of apology on their faces.

“Yes, Lord Tracey, sorry Lord Tracey,” said the one who’d cursed, ducking his head.

“Can I show Daisy now?” Matilda asked, and her fathers face softened as he looked down at her.

“Of course, my dear. The creature is secure?” he added to the stablehands, and they nodded quickly.

“Yes, my lord. Took a fair bit of wrangling, but it shouldn’t be a problem now.”

They stepped aside, revealing the animal in the stall, and Lorrella was unable to stop herself from gasping. She froze, glancing up at Lord Tracey, but he only had eyes for Matilda, who was staring at the creature with a wide grin

It was not, as Lorrella had first assumed, simply a new pony; it was a centaur. Their upper body was wrapped up tightly in a harness that forced its arms behind its back, and their face was partially covered by a bitted bridle, the lead of which was tied to a hook on the wall.

Lorrella had never seen a centaur before, and she was no expert on horses either, but even she could see that the creature was only a child. Judging by the face alone, one not much older than Matilda herself, or at least whatever the centaur equivalent was to eight years old. The poor thing was clearly terrified, too; they were trembling slightly and pawing at the ground with one of their front hooves.

“Daisy, this is Coco!” Matilda said happily. “Coco, this is Daisy! The two of you are gonna be the best of friends, I know it! What do you think, Daisy, isn’t she just the greatest present you ever saw?”

The centaur flinched when Matilda spoke, and Lorrella glanced back at Lord Tracey, who was watching the whole exchange with what on the surface looked like a bored expression. She swallowed, and shot the centaur what she hoped was an apologetic look before answering.

“Yes, Lady Matilda,” she said quietly. “She’s perfect for you.”

#whump #whump fic #creature whump #fairy whump #centaur whump #pet whump #nonhuman whumpee #child whumper #matilda's playhouse #my writing

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kindheart525 · 5 months

Text

Triple Threat had thrown herself all in to her project on her idol, more than she’d ever thrown herself into a school project, even though she’d always given everything her all. She’d always looked up to Sugar Shaker but the more she learned about her the more she loved her!

Her mother, Sweetie Belle, noticed how engrossed in her project she was, looking over her shoulder after coming into her room to pick up some laundry.

“Whatcha working on, TT? Is there another musical we need to buy tickets for?”

TT was a little bothered by her mom interrupting her train of thought, but she was always excited to share her passions anyway so she smiled brightly.

“There will be but this isn’t it! We’re doing a project on our biggest idols in theater and I’m doing mine on Sugar Shaker!”

“Ooh fun! She’s the pony from Manespray, right? You always loved that musical. She’s talented too, a mare after my own heart.”

Sweetie hummed a few notes from one of TT’s favorite songs, perfectly on-key but TT rolled her eyes anyway. Moms were embarrassing like that.

“Not only that, but she’s fat! Just like me! It was really hard for her to get a job because of it, but she ended up originating the lead role in one of Bridleway’s best shows! Bridleway needs more ponies like her.”

“True, not everypony can make it in the industry so you’re super lucky if you do!”

Sweetie remarked, seeming to get it at first until the next thing she said.

“I was lucky I still got to continue my music career after all the extra weight I’ve put on!”

She stretched out, showing TT her belly which really had only a little bit of weight on it. Way less than what TT had.

TT couldn’t believe what she was hearing! Her mom wasn’t fat at all, she had no place to make any sort of judgement about what ponies like her were experiencing! She buried her face in her hooves out of frustration at how dense her mom was being.

“Mom...you’re not...”

“It’s nothing to worry about, really. As long as you can sing and dance you’ll have no problem getting a job!”

Sweetie ruffled her daughter’s mane before picking up her laundry basket and sauntering out of her room.

“I’ll leave you to work now. Good luck on your project honey!”

But Triple Threat couldn’t get back into the zone after that conversation. Her mom didn’t get it at all. Bridleway was a cutthroat industry, not for those who weren’t prepared to work tirelessly at it. Talent alone didn’t guarantee anything, especially if you weren’t conventionally attractive. Triple Threat knew this.

But she was still an optimist at heart, and she hoped that if she did put in whatever extra work she needed that she could become a star too.

~~~~~~~~~~

Previous: Big and Beautiful Next: Voyage

Sweetie Belle’s cutie mark by Dropple-RD

#KindsArt #auraverse #bridleway #triple threat #sweetie belle #story piece #next generation #my little pony #mlp fim #mlp g4 #fatphobia #tw fatphobia

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ficsilike-reblogged · 3 years

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Glass Swords

Summary: Tovar knew he had bad luck–it came with the curse the witch gave him on his thirteenth birthday. Trapped in a contract by a band of bloodthirsty noblemen who use Tovar for his skill with a sword, he has all but resigned himself to a life of servitude. But then a job shoves him into the path of a princess who almost makes him smile. (Cinderella!AU)

Pairing: Pero Tovar/F!Reader

Warnings: None really. I make an allusion to the events of the movie but you don’t have to have seen it to understand this.

Word Count: 4.8k

(Banner by my darling @starlight-starwrites)

Or you can read on Ao3!

Once upon a time, there was a boy who seemed to have remarkably good luck. He was born to a wealthy, aristocratic family, and being the firstborn and a son guaranteed him a title of his own. His horse always came first in races, his opponents were always making simple mistakes in duels. He always had the keen eye to find a forgotten bit of coin on the ground. His first shot always hit its make when he was hunting.

Yes, Pero Tovar was lucky.

Until his luck soured at the hands of a woods witch.

On his thirteenth birthday, on a hunt with his band of friends and loyal servants, he darted into the forest to call for the hunting dog that had gone after gods-knows-what instead of the fowl they’d been hoping for when they set out. Again and again he called for the hound with no luck.

“Your dog has ruined my garden,” came a sudden voice behind him.

Pero turned to see a woman, old and shrouded in tattered grey robes, emerging from the forest shadows. An answering howl soon followed and a muddied hound bounded up to him, remnants of flowers and trampled vegetables hanging from his panting mouth.

And Pero laughed. What else was he supposed to do?

“For too long I have been held at the whim of your family. They have forgotten the treaty they signed when they came here, building your castle on my land and promising that you would provide. That you would never forget. But you have. And then you laugh when my little source of happiness was trampled by a hound.” Words tumbled from her chapped lips in a language he did not recognize and soon felt as if a bucket of icy river water had been dropped over his head.

“What did you do?” He hissed, feeling himself shake like a scared deer.

“I have made sure the world treats you as it treats me.” Her weathered mouth stretched into a smile he could see beneath the cowl. “But I am not cruel. I only want you to learn a lesson. But your lot seem stubborn so I would not be surprised if it took you the rest of your life.” She stepped forward and pulled a blade from the folds of her robes and Pero took an instinctive step back.

Almost instantly, his heel caught on a root and he tumbled to the moss-covered ground, pain zig-zagging up his spine as he landed.

The witch only laughed and continued forward. She twisted the blade in her hand and she held it out to him. And it was not as if he could say no. Not now. The short sword was clear—like glass. As soon as his hand wrapped around the handle, he felt the cold stone form to his grip, imprinting itself to his touch.

“When you’ve pierced the heart of a princess with your glass sword, then and only then will the curse lift.”

“A-a-a princess?” Pero parroted, feeling his stomach drop.

But the witch was gone and all he had was the glass sword.

His bad luck made itself known when he collided with his sister as they both rounded corners and she tumbled down the stone stairs of their home. Sancha was fine, thankfully but Pero would never forget how the blood pooled around her head or the scream she let out as she fell.

That was his fault. He knew it would only get worse as time progressed. He would not endanger his family. And so, Pero left a short note for his mother and father, telling them that he would return once he’d earned his honor on his own. The note he left for his sister told the truth, apologize for her injuring asking for her forgiveness even though he knew he already had it. Sancha was too pure of heart to ever hold any anger.

He set out. At first, trying to find another witch to counteract the curse. Then, to healers who promised anything and everything for the right price. And then, little by little, his hope faded. For a moment, he did consider driving the short blade through the heart of a princess—any princess—to just be rid of the curse. So he could see his family again. So he could live without worrying about bridges, loose bricks, or roots—or the millions of other things that the witch had made unlucky.

But he couldn’t. And in desperation to stay fed, he took up work as a mercenary. Another unlucky decision. It had led him to far flung lands that would have been an adventure to rival any explorer—he had fought creatures from another world!—but he did not enjoy any of it (aside from a few fleeting moments). And he could kill people who were trying to kill him all the time. Pero was good at it, he found. But it did not necessarily give him much opportunity to even know any princesses or be able to pick them out of a crowd so he could…stab them.

His bad luck continued.

When he failed to return to his employers, a group of nefarious noblemen from some country he didn’t care to remember, with the Black Powder they had requested, there were consequences. And now he was stuck in a contract, unable to leave his ‘employment’ because a bottle of ink had spilled across the contract and blotted out a very telling bit of information. He could not leave unless they were all dead. And if he broke that contract, his life would be forfeit.

He never would have signed—obviously—if he had been able to read that line.

But it was done. He was trapped. His bad luck mostly did not endanger his life—and he was sure the witch made sure of that. It would be no fun if it killed him and he was able to rest in death. The closest he had come to death because of his luck was when an ornamental sword fell from its hold on the wall and nearly took his eye.

One of the noblemen who benefitted from his terrible contract said the scar made him look fearsome. But he said it with a curdled milk smirk that rolled Pero’s stomach. It wasn’t a compliment, he knew.

And now he was called in by his ‘employers’ to settle another job. He vaguely listened—something about needing the little kingdom’s valuable port for some trivial reason and the easiest way to acquire the port was for Pero to kill at least the king and his eldest son so the second-born son could become king. Apparently, the noblemen who were employing him had an agreement with the power hungry prince. Pero was sure there were more details but he did not care to commit them to memory. He knew how to kill and his timeline.

That was all that really mattered.

But first, he needed to scout through the dense forest surrounding the castle to find a way in.

He weaved between trees as he started toward the castle. The outer perimeter walls had been easily climbed without drawing attention and while the surrounding grounds were vast, they were not heavily patrolled. As he continued to close the distance to the dark stone of the castle, Pero started to believe that this might the easiest job his contract had ever permitted him. The one solace he had was still being able to learn languages easily so he was able to learn of this mostly-unattended part of the perimeter wall by listening at the nearest market.

The sound of a horse’s hooves on the drying leaves drew his attention, his head whipping to the side, to one of the few bits of sunlight that slipped through the thick trees overhead.

It was a woman—one of the most beautiful women he had ever seen, if he was being truthful—sitting atop a horse. She was smiling up at the birds as they sang in the branches. She was dressed in a simple smock and her horse was unsaddled. She was probably a maid from the castle.

But that did not detract from how his throat tightened as he looked at her. She was, after all, beautiful. It was almost embarrassing how he didn’t even realize she had spotted him until it was too late.

“Hello, sir.” Her voice was kind on his ears and he was instantly wondering if she would speak again.

“Hello, my lady.”

“Are you lost? It is not often I see strangers in the kingswood.” She nudged her horse toward him, uncaring of the danger strangers often present. Or maybe she was unknowing. There was a certain sweetness to her that Pero knew could not be feigned.

“I am hunting, my lady. I hope I did not disturb you.”

She shook her head. “I was not aware the king was having a hunting party today. I hope I did not scare away your prey.”

“No, my lady. I have just lost the rest of our party. Do you work at the castle?”

“Yes.” Her smile seemed to be hiding something but Pero thought little of it, instead focusing on how the light made her eyes sparkle.

“Do they treat you well? I am sure I could put in a good word for you,” he said, knowing his roguish smile was starting to cut across his face. He might have the worst luck but he still knew how to make a pretty woman smile.

And it worked because she demurely averted her eyes before biting her lip for a moment. “They treat me much better than they should,” she said with a shake of her head. “But I thank you for the offer.” She cleared her throat before looking at him again. “I can fetch you a bit of water or ale from the kitchens, if you would like? You must be parched.”

“No, no, my lady. But you are kind to offer.”

The sound of someone calling out in the distance had her turning her head with a frown. “I’ve lost track of the hour. I must go.”

And then her dark horse was setting off, galloping between the black-barked trees, and disappearing from sight before he could even ask for her name.

Pero did not find a way into the castle that day. He could have, but he didn’t. His employers allowed him another day of scouting in the woods and he happily took advantage of it and hoped his curse would subside just for a day, or even a few hours, so he might happen upon the maid again.

And his silent plea was heard as he found her at the base of a large tree, a well-worn book settled on her lap.

“Hello again,” she said as she spotted him.

“Hello, my lady.”

She patted the bit of grass beside her and Pero wavered for a moment before taking the offered seat. “Hunting again today?”

“No. I must confess that I was hoping to see you.”

Her answering giggle had something squeezing in the deep recesses of his chest. “Well, you have found me.” She closed the book carefully and turned to face him a little more. “What is your name? I have tried to guess it but I do not think any name I might have conjured would suit you.”

He could have told her his true name. It was not as if she would be able to stop him in his quest. But he knew to never think he could outsmart his curse. “I am Tovar.” And then he quickly added his title that he had not used in decades: “Marquess Tovar.” As if that would somehow make his lie about hunting with the royals more believable.

She gave him her name in return and then started to gently, simply pull him into conversation about anything and everything—from the animals he was unfamiliar with in the forest, to learning how the she grew up inside the castle and still got lost in its twisting, turning halls and rooms.

He knew he should be committing the hints she was giving to him about the castle’s layout to memory but didn’t want to. He only want to continue to hear her speak. She would ask him questions too, about how he was finding her homeland and if he still “did not require a bit of drink to slake his thirst from the kitchens.”

She was…sunlight. And such a sharp contrast to the darkness of the kingdom she resided in with its masses of dark stone, fog, and black wood trees. She did not deserve such darkness. Sunlight. She should have been bathed in sunlight, in warmth, in all things light and lovely. Not here. Not in the dark and cold. Even if it was her home—even if she called it home with a tilt of her beautiful lips.

“Tell me, Tovar. Are you coming to the Masque tomorrow night? I would like to see you again.”

“There is a Masque tomorrow?”

She nodded with another smile and stood, brushing the moss and dirt from her little dress and apron. “The King is celebrating his birthday and his daughter has finally returned from her time abroad.”

“A princess?”

She laughed and held out a hand toward him, helping him to his feet. “Yes. I thought the king would have told you about her when you were hunting.”

“I’ve only heard of his sons,” he said, not entirely lying.

“Either way, will you come to the Masque tomorrow?” She looked so hopeful, so happy. He could not tell her no. And it was with a soft kiss to his cheek that she bid him goodbye and he was left in the dark of the forest, watching her disappear again.

A Royal Masque. And a princess. Perhaps his luck was turning on its own.

This would provide the perfect opportunity for him—kill the princess and be able to dance with the woman whose lips pleasantly burned his skin.

It had been easy to procure an invitation to the Masque. It had been harder to find an outfit that would not gain him unwanted attention. The shops were nearly all too busy or too empty but he did eventually find a decent enough ensemble and matching mask without emptying his coffers too much. His employers had been pleased to know he had found a way into the castle without too much fanfare and seemed to approve of his plan to carry out their plot at the masque. (And if another royal died that night, who would think that it was not part of a larger plan instead of a desperate man trying to break a curse?)

Pero handed over his invitation to the major-domo standing in front of the black and gold doors and was finally ushered inside—even after a few of the knights eyed the short sword sheathed at his hip. The halls were filled with more shining dark stone and gilded suits of armor from centuries past. Paintings and tapestries were hung along the walls, depicting the kingdom’s fabled rise to power. Blooms of white flowers were littered about, a sharp contrast to the darkness that seemed to permeate each corner of this little kingdom.

No couples had already to the floor to dance yet but he did spot a few practicing an almost-familiar set of measured steps away from onlookers. The raised dais filled with a few ornately carved chairs—thrones, he supposed—was empty. His targets were not here yet.

But perhaps she was.

He scanned the crowd but did not spot her—even with everyone wearing masks, he was sure he would recognize her from leagues away.

Music suddenly blared, announcing the arrival of someone important. He turned with the rest of the crowd and listened as the royals were announced. There was the youngest son, the next, and then the eldest. The king was escorted by his daughter, but the answering applause and cheer drowned out her name and Pero could only crane his neck too much to try and get a look before he started to look suspicious.

The first official song was called and the heir apparent took the dance with his betrothed before other couples were allowed to join them on the gleaming wooden floor.

Pero continued to scan the crowd, briefly touching the small vials he’d hidden within his doublet, and found the servant in charge of bringing goblets of wine to the king without much trouble.

It was easy.

But then a woman dressed in fine clothes of the kingdom’s sigil was striding toward him, uncaring of the masses of people bowing and curtseying in her wake and she only slowed to a stop when she was right in front of him. This must be the princess. A mask of gold covered most of her features but her eyes sparkled in such a way that Pero could have sworn he had seen them before. They were alight with recognition and mischief.

“Dance with me,” she whispered.

“Your highness, I-”

The princess tilted her mask up and…

And that was when he realized, the girl from the forest and the princess…were the same person.

His fleeting moment of happiness had actually been another stroke of bad luck. How cruel.

She looked just as beautiful in her finery and jewels as she did in the smock she had donned in the forest. Her grip was gentle as she carefully started to lead him in the dance and didn’t laugh when he stumbled over her gilded shoes. Eventually, thankfully, he righted himself and was able to properly dance with her, letting the music guide his steps with her gentle corrections whenever he missed one or two.

“You’re a princess,” he said, hating the moment they left his lips.

“I am. Very astute of you, Tovar.” She laughed and stepped back from him as the song ended with a flourish and clapped for the minstrels. But then she turned back to him “Come with me,” she murmured, just low enough for him to hear. The princess didn’t wait for his answer and grasped his hands, quickly leading him through the crowd, some of whom tried to stop them, asking for his name, for a moment of the princess’ time, on and on it went. But she did not falter. Her grip did not loosen.

Not until they were out of the humid air of the ballroom and in the beautiful, cooled night air did she finally stop. Her smile was still wide and his face hurt as he felt himself trying to, unconsciously, mirror her expression. His face was not used to the movement. “What are you up to, princess?”

“I have something to show you.” She squeezed his hands once. “Do you have somewhere else you’d rather be? I don’t mean to steal you away if you have someone else waiting for you.”

Pero shook his head. “No. No, princess. I am happy to know you want my time as much as I desire yours.”

She bit her lip with a soft giggle. “Well, I do hope you like it.” She stepped back to link her arm through his, and continued to guide him down the shining palace steps and into the lush, green gardens. It was as easy for her to pull little bits of information from him as she tossed her golden mask into a bush without a care.

“Tell me of your homeland.”

“It is beautiful, your highness. Filled with sunlight and…” he drifted off, finally allowing himself to think of his home and family for the first time in years. “I miss it very much.”

She was quiet as he thought and did not seem to mind as he came back to himself—a familiar, gentle smile on her lips as she looked at him. “You do not strike me as a man who would leave someone or someplace you love so fiercely without cause. What pushed you to do so, if I may be so bold?”

“Bad luck,” he answered simply. “But tell me, why were you in the forest? Not once, but twice and without an escort or lady’s maid.”

Her face twisted into a pout for a moment. “I must admit that I do not care for every bit of royal life. It can all be so…tedious.”

“So, you snuck away?”

She nodded. “Donned my maid’s dress and took my horse from the stables while the hand was busy tending to my brother’s mare. It took hours for them to even notice I’d missed luncheon.”

“Did you not just return from abroad? I would have assumed that they would scarcely let you out of their sights.”

She shook her head with a laugh as they slowed to a stop in front of rusted gate she opened and waved him through. A secret garden greeted them, filled with all the color that the rest of the kingdom seemed to lack. Even in the moonlight, he could see the vibrant yellow, pink, red, and orange hues of the flowers that were growing haphazardly and unkempt by practiced hands. It reminded him, achingly, of the gardens his mother and Sancha would tend to on their own at home. They had always liked the free-roaming blooms over the careful structure of the manicured grounds.

“They like having me close, true. But underfoot is nothing but annoyance for everyone involved.”

“What is this place?” He asked, letting her pull him onto a simply carved bench in the center of the garden.

She turned to him with another smile—she seemed so fond of smiling. “This was my mother’s secret place. Free from the confines of my father’s kingdom and his advisor’s disapproving eyes. She would bring me here when I was little and teach me the names of all the flowers and how to care for them.”

It did not take long for Tovar to recognize the hurt in her tone.

He wondered if she heard it in his voice when he spoke of home. Of his beautiful family in Spain. Perhaps that was why he rarely spoke of them. But he wanted to tell her. Wanted to tell her everything. So, he tried. He told her of the gardens his mother grew and refused to let their servants touch. Told her of how the fields around his home smelled sweet in the spring. Told her of all the colors he had seen on his adventures—even if he had to omit some bits of information to not reveal his true profession. And she listened keenly, asking questions and always seeming to think whatever he had said was interesting. In turn, she told him of her brief time in her mother’s ancestral kingdom, learning all she could and feeling torn when she knew she had to return to her home kingdom.

He was hardly aware of time passing, or how close they had grown on the bench until he heard a crier announcing the time—it was nearing midnight. He turned at the sudden noise and his hand slid across the bench—and quickly earned himself a handful of thorns to the webbing between his fingers. He hissed but hurriedly stopped himself as her gentle, soft hands cradled his and started to remove the thorns one by one. “Bad luck indeed,” she said, teasing. “I had trimmed those blooms back.”

Bad luck.

The sword at his hip grew heavier.

He could do it. He could run the blade through her chest and pierce her heart and be done with this wretched curse. But her eyes were shining in the moonlight and she smiled at him and he…couldn’t. He wouldn’t.

Seeming to sense his distress, her smile faded. “Tovar? What ails you?” She reached out toward him and the moment her soft hand touched his cheek…he fled.

Decades of running toward dangers left him in an instant and he ran like a coward. Out of the garden, through the crowded ballroom where people shouted for him to stop, and out into the courtyard.

He fled. He ran until his legs gave out.

And it was only then that he noticed his sword was missing.

Hiding in the woods was not the most comfortable of living quarters but it was not the worst he had used since he had run from home.

He would not face his employers’ wrath. Another job left unfinished would cost him his head, he knew it. To survive, he hunted and forged, only moving into the outskirts of the market when he truly needed to buy something—like healing herbs for when he cut open his arm on a low hanging branch, or new boots after his toe caught on a sharp stone and tore the sole clean off.

Perhaps it was his need to survive and not be noticed, but it took Pero weeks to realize that the kingdom was in a tizzy.

The King had nearly been murdered as the masque and his second son was implicated in the plot. A band of foreign nobles had been arrested and their heads now sat on spikes outside the castle.

But that was not all.

Apparently, the princess had been scouring the kingdom looking for the man she had danced with at the masque—who had left behind a very peculiar short sword; its handle seeming to fit only one man’s hand.

It felt silly to let himself hope.

Could he? Should he let her find him? The curse still loomed. He would not subject her to the danger that seemed to follow him. He could not-

“There you are.”

Apparently he had been ruminating too long and had not noticed the small band of people approaching him at the edge of the market. The princess—and he was loathed to admit that he had momentarily let himself refer to her as His Princess—was standing in front of him with her familiar, beautiful smile on her lips and his sword in her hand. She turned it over, holding the hilt toward him as he hastily bowed.

“This is yours, yes?”

He nodded and reached out for it, feeling the familiar hand fit into his hand like it had for decades. But soon a gentle warmth bloomed up his hand until he could feel it burrowing in his chest. Something had changed.

When the king learned of Tovar’s true identity, he was able to grant his daughter’s wish of allowing their betrothal. A son of duke of a wealthy kingdom was a worthy match—and the king liked to make his daughter smile, too, even if it was at the side of a foreign duke who came into palace looking slovenly.

But Pero was still nervous. Even if he no longer tripped on stairs, bricks did not fall and nearly crush his skull, animals did not dart in front of his feet. He wanted to be sure—after all, he had not delivered a heart to the woods witch.

But, on the eve of their wedding, as Pero paced in his ornate and comfortable bedchamber, a sudden blast of cold air had him turning. In front of him stood a familiar woman. Her robes were still tattered but she was…glowing. Near ethereal. The woods witch had come again.

“I could feel your worries from leagues away, little duke.” Her smile was all teeth and he knew to keep quiet. “While I would have preferred the actual heart of that beautiful princess, the curse has been lifted. That little glass sword led her heart to you. You are free. I promise you that.”

“I am sorry,” Pero said, feeling the words rush out as he looked at her. “I am so sorry, my lady.”

“I know,” she hummed before she glanced around the room. “She will like Spain more, little duke. I promise you that.”

Before Pero could ask for specifics, the witch was gone in another gust of cold wind.

Pero watched his wife’s smile grow broader and broader as their carriage drew closer to his castle.

The sun was shining. The air was sweet with the scent of springtime flowers and green grasses. It was filled with the colors he had promised her that night in the garden.

His family greeted them warmly and his sweet mother and sister cried in joy at finally having him back home while his father did look quiet near tears, too. Pero just watched it all with a smile on his face, so large and persistent it hurt his face.

“It is beautiful here,” she whispered to him that night in their bedchamber. “But, of course, I would expect nothing more from the land who gave me you.”

Pero kissed her, smiling against her mouth.

His glass sword was forgotten on their bedside table.

He had all he needed, all the good luck in the world, right here in his arms.

And they lived happily ever after.

The end.

A/N: please let me know what you think!

#pero tovar x reader #pero tovar imagine #the great wall #pero tovar

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