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cas-asiaszymanska · 25 days

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CAS BLOG 13

MARCH 2

Activity

17.03.2024

Today we did some simple flat poles. At first we wormed up in walk and trot. Than we rode through 4 flat trot poles on both sides trying to manipulate the gait length in the meantime. Than I changed the 4 poles, so that they were for canter – one hop-in-hop-out, one for one foule and one for hop-in-hop-out again. We wormed up on both sides in canter and rode the poles. I did a few trot-canter transitions and did a few circled in full seat. At the end we stretched in trot and went for a short walk – it started raining, so we came back earlier than planned. Today Lambi was a bit stiff and cautious. Banding was not the best and the transitions to canter took a lot of time to be calm. My seat was not the best either as i had to give a lot of attention to his behaviour. I will try to be more relaxed and coordinated during the next ride.

18.03.2024

Today we worked on transitions. At first we did stop-walk transitions. Later, after a short trot worm up, we did walk-trot transitions and a few stop-trot transitions. Than we canter a little and did trot-canter transitions and tries doing walk-canter transitions. At the end we stretched in trot. Lambi was much calmer today and bent better. We was pretty responsive, especially after a few exercises. He did well with most transitions – the biggest problem was going from canter to walk quickly. My seat was more stable and that probably helped too. Lambi was ok on contact, but had to be reminded many times before canter. Overall it was a ride good for our improvement.

22.03.2024

Today we did some pole work with circles. It came out to be harder than expected, but I am very proud of Lambi's work. After a worm up in walk and canter, we wormed up in trot and started with the exercise. There were 3 poles in the middle on the arena, meeting with one end with similar distance between their ends. The task was to ride on one, do a small circle to the outside and ride to the next one. The circles came out to be really small, so we had some problems with aiming for the next pole. We did the same in canter – trying to do small circles, but sometimes they ended up being medium-sized. At the end we stretched a while in canter and trot. Lambi was sweating and tired. He improved responsiveness in turns a lot, got better with his balance and collection (even though hE sometimes broke mid-task, he did much better than normally). He was ok with the contact and bent, but still a lot work there. He was still pretty stiff before the second canter, but was easier to relax then normally. My seat was pretty good, but still not perfect.

24.03.2024

Today we did some small jumps again – 40/45 cm in the open arena. There were two diagonals each with 2 jumps and one pole after, 3 foules between each obstacle. At first we wormed up in walk and trot doing some circles and transitions. Then we rode through some poles in trot and wormed up in canter. Next we rode the final exercise – fist on flat poles, than on small obstacles only in the middle and later the full task with the first and second jump raised. At the end we stretched in trot and went for a long walk to the forest. Lambi was pretty balanced and on contact today. He was responsive, apart form a few moments. He did stiffen before canter, but it was better than normally. He jumped well and did not try of avoid the obstacles. He changed the canter leg very rarely, so this is something to work on for sure. I did ok with my seat, but still need some more practice. We did not focus on bend today, but it should come in pair with relaxation.

25.03.2024

Today we did some dressage. At first we did some shoulder-ins it walk and wormed up in trot. We rode 1 m from the wall and try to stabilize ourselves on straight lines. Later we tried doing kind of leg yields (with no bent) but going inside the arena. Later we did some shoulder ins in trot, including also some circles. The transitions we did while in shoulder-in so that Lambi would collect with hinds. We wormed up in canter and did the exercise with kind of leg yield and than circle on both sides. At the end we tried having a nice collected canter on a circle and stretched in trot. We finished off with a short night-walk. Lambi was pretty balanced and on contact, but he had harder moment in both. He relaxed after a few exercises and even stiffed much less before canter. He improved his bend a little today and at the end was really nice to ride. My seat was also a bit better, but still not perfect.

28.03.2024

Today we did some bend change exercises in an open arena. At first we wormed up in walk and trot. Did a few circles and than rode in an infinity sign in trot. After a short break we did those kind of leg yields. We wormed up in canter and did a lot of circles and small leg yields on both sides. We finished of doing a few more circles, stretching it trot and going for a short walk. Lambi improved his bend, but was still pretty stiff on the left rein. His balance was good today, but responsiveness could have been better at times. He was pretty well collected at the end and good on contact. My seat was a bit better too.

29.03.2024

Today we did a little jumping again. We wormed up with some circles, transitions and flat poles in trot and went on to canter. We did some circles and manipulated the stride length to soften Lambi a little. Than we started with the jumping exercise. There were two diagonals – two jumps with one foule in between with the second obstacle being an oxer and second combination were 3 jumps with two foules between each. We slowly progressed to higher jumps, finishing at 60 cm, which is really good after the injury and overall for Lambi after so log with no jumps at all! After the ride we went for a short walk. He was pretty balanced and good on contact today. He was really relaxed before the jumps and responded well to my guidance. My seat was pretty good, but after so long without jumping, it needs some polishing. Oveall it was a really great ride.

30.03.2024

Today we tried doing flying changes over a small raised pole, as after the injury, Lambi had a hard time with them. At first we wormed up in trot doing some circles and a few transitions. We wormed up in canter on both sides, adding stride length manipulation and circles. We added also small jumps through little fences. Next we tried doing the flying changes over the raised pole above a fake pool. He did the correct change a few times, so I am satisfied with the results. He was pretty balanced and relaxed today. He was responsive most of the time and bent well only sometimes. My seat was ok but still needs work. My lower leg is more and more stable, but still not perfect.

31.03.2024

Today we did a little bend exercise in trot. We started off with worming up in trot doing some circles and riding some flat trot poles. Than we rode the poles one at the time doing a small circle and than continuing to the next one. We repeated the exercise on the other side and cantered a little. We manipulated the stride length, did some circles and jumped the small fence again. Then we did some circles through a flat pole in a sitting canter and did the same on the other side. Next we stretched a bit in trot. At the end I took my niece for a walk around the arena on Lambi and switched with her to go for a walk outside of the arena. Lami was pretty relaxed today and is doing much better with canter transitions – is not so stiff before them. He was pretty responsive, but worse than last times and was pretty stiff in bent – better only at some moments.

Blog summary 13

During last two weeks, we started rising outside more regularly and jumping a bit higher – I am really happy about both :). He is getting better in canter transitions and responsiveness as well as staying calm while jumping. His bend and my seat still need a lot of work, but we are both on a good path, which pleases me a lot.

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ladyfawkes · 3 years

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TJBEA written by LadyFawkes Chapter 5: Fitzherberty Healing Secrets Current word count: 14630

Chapter 5 Summary: Rapunzel is finally introduced to the main architect of the couple's rescue -- one very persistent and elusive palace horse!! Long-repressed dark memories from her time with Gothel resurface unbidden, and Eugene must figure out how best to drag her from that abyss. He might just need to dig a little deeper for himself in the process.

CW: Childhood punishment torture/abuse CW: Childhood neglect; dehydration CW: Fear tactics using fire, deprivation of protective footwear CW: References of asphyxiation by near-drowning torture CW: Gaslighting These things are merely touched upon, neither detailed nor glorified. In this chapter, they refer to Gothel's past behavior over the years with Rapunzel.

As they continued to make their way through the manky and dusty cobwebs, Rapunzel paid no heed to their environment. Eugene, however, finally felt a distinct unease for the first time, since, well….since just before Gothel had stabbed him.

He could not bide by it...and found himself readying the cast iron fry pan in a defensive posture as they wound their way down the indoor tower spiral. The skeevy feeling caused Eugene to whirl around behind him, since he certainly felt as if they were being watched. And he hadn’t remained a successful career thief as long as he had by ignoring his instincts.

“We’ll talk more in detail once we get outta here,” Eugene ushered Rapunzel to go faster. Rather than question him, she followed his lead until they were out of the spiral staircase chamber, out of the chamber door (closing it behind them) and finally on the opposite side of the base of the tower in the bright cheerful sunlight. He had begun feeling better immediately.

Now with the couple’s clothing shown in stark relief, they could both better see the remaining evidence they carried of the aftermath concerning what had taken place within the past hour. Eugene’s clothing -- and even Rapunzel’s -- were covered in patches and smears of dried blood. It was less noticeable on Rapunzel’s pink and purple dress….but patches of her partial handprints were left behind nonetheless. And neither Eugene nor Rapunzel had realized until then that Gothel had managed to run Eugene clean through….for there was evidence of an exit wound that neither Rapunzel nor Eugene had seen. On the back of Eugene’s doublet and his trousers was another smaller dried stream and more patches of blood...leading from another separate jagged crimson tear through the back of his shirt and doublet.

Before either Rapunzel, Eugene, or Pascal could say much of anything, Maximus, who had been drinking at the spring, turned around and cantered up to them.

Rapunzel’s jaw dropped as she demanded of Eugene, “Don’t tell me Maximus is the one who helped you escape!?” And Eugene self-consciously rubbed a hand over the back of his neck and grinned in spite of himself. “He’s the main one, yeah.”

And the closer Max got to them, the more alarmed the horse became. Before long, he was snuffling around the bloodstains on Rapunzel….and at last figuring she was all right, went over to Eugene. The couple tried to explain that even Eugene was okay now too. However, the adamant horse would not stop nudging and pestering Eugene until Rapunzel was compelled to take the frying pan from Eugene’s hands before he accidentally dropped it and Maximus had effectively made the young man strip to the waist for his personal equine inspection in spite of all the vehement protesting.

“Why Max, I never knew you cared,” Eugene jabbed at him playfully, a wan smirk on his face as he folded his arms over his toned bare chest. The horse gave him a withering death-glare and continued to circle Eugene, nonetheless scrutinizing him even more closely. Rapunzel quipped, “He’s just making sure he didn’t go to all the trouble of rescuing you for nothing.”

“You’re not ‘nothing’, though,” Eugene protested. “Oh….really?" Rapunzel replied pleasantly. "So what am I, then?” Rapunzel flirted, her eyelashes batting up at him. Eugene slowly drew in lungfuls of air before rapidly exhaling, “Only…. everything,” he finished with breathless sincerity. And the princess blushed in the sunlight as Eugene stood closer to her, lacing their fingers together. She felt a heady rush as the scent of Eugene’s sun-kissed bare skin tickled her everywhere from the inside out.

You can finish the chapter on AO3!!

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thatpaintedpony · 2 years

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2021 Year in Review

2021 . . . aah 2021. What to say about the Clusterfuck of a year part 2?

2021 came in with a shitty bang, as the Northern Beaches cluster slammed borders closed once more and I had to stay home instead of going to SA for Christmas. Another year of La Nina, so it was INCREDIBLY humid and sticky for January, and just generally very wet all around. I started playing Assassin’s Creed Origins to keep out of the heat (and would continue playing it for nearly 6 months lol).

On the pony front, it was very much business as usual, getting lessons, riding Sky. We were starting to work over poles a bit which was hilarious because she is a total clutz. We also got another voucher for a photoshoot with Lexi, so I decided I had better hop on Sky bareback before that, just to make sure she wouldn’t kill me. And she was . . . fine. Totally chill about it. Because she’s the best girl.

By this point I really was not riding Bob much at all, which suited him right down to the ground, he was just hanging in the paddock getting fat. I rode him a couple of times over the summer break, and he was a shithead and reminded me why I don’t ride him much anymore. But that’s okay, he’s retired so he gets that privilege.

We were supposed to have our photoshoot on 23rd Jan, but the world’s biggest storm rolled over about 30 minutes before and absolutely belted down rain, so we went to dinner instead. Isn’t La Nina fun? Luckily we managed to get it in two days later – actual sunshine this time! The ponies were both amazing, Lexi did a phenomenal job as usual. I was SO pleased with the results, they look incredible!

End of January saw me back in the office two days a week, which turned out to be a pretty great work/life balance that allowed me time to ride and enjoy my horses and freedom and still get to see people in the office.

At the start of Feb, we went to another HDC training day, and Sky was an absolute champ as usual. We were starting to really work on our canter work, canter transitions, counter canter and a little bit of lateral work. Having a full sized arena to play around in was awesome, and she always feels so good on the surface at SIEC. And she was just totally chill with being there now, no calling or carrying on at all.

February saw me finally able to make it to SA for a week, much delayed and with many covid tests, but things seemed to be going back to “normal” such as it was. I was back to work for the Escape room, it was raining still all the time, but lockdowns were pretty much done and we were going places and doing things again! We were starting to make plans for the big Aussie horsblr meet up at Equitana – the tickets were bought, the hotel booked . . .

End of Feb I got a tattoo of my lovely ponies!

At the start of March we went to another HDC competition with the world’s best munchkin. Once more we totally blew the canter transition in the 1A (THREE TIMES) so we got really slammed for that and got a 60% for that, and then 64% for the 1B because I rode a bit of an overly safe test, but she was cool, calm and collected so I was really happy with her!

The weather was still shit, there were more floods (of course) in March, because you know, with no Covid to cancel things, we needed something else to go wrong! These are the 2020s, after all. Sky was of course absolutely feral when I was finally able to ride again, because 2 weeks of no work along with all that green grass = nutty pony. So we once more went through a bit of a “stage” about the canter transitions. Ie. Being a complete nutcase about it! This was probably the most reoccurring theme of this year.

April we finally made it to CDI at SIEC which we had planned to do last year but which was cancelled. Got to watch some fancy ponies being fancy and do some shopping. I held off from buying too much, looking forward to the Equitana shopping but . . . well.

May arrived, and with it the start of wintery weather. Not long after the 1 year anniversary since I bought Sky, I headed off to Galston dressage for my first entirely solo outing with Sky. It’s probably getting boring to hear but she was an absolute legend. The grounds were cramped and chaotic and she was just completely chill about it. We cracked 75% in the CU prelim 1A (I think the judge was marking kindly but even so, first time I’d ever ridden a test over 70%!) and then we got 64% in the Official 1B. We got another EOC in that one because of another blown canter transition but it was totally my fault this time.

Aaand that was the last comp we went to :/

We went to another training day right before my birthday and Chris rode Sky and she was perfect and I got to hop on Lacey and do some walk to canter transitions and laterals and that was awesome. But then…

With June came Delta. All of a sudden we went from almost total freedom to complete lockdown. HDC Championships: Cancelled. Equitana: Cancelled. We managed to squeeze in one last lesson at an arena but then everything was slammed shut. For the next 6 months. We went into Sydney’s longest lockdown since the start of the pandemic.

And that was pretty much our winter. Rain, mud, and covid. We didn’t go anywhere. We didn’t do anything. We had lessons, we started working on our lateral movements, and that was it until September when I finally got my vaccine and we started to get freedom again! 24th Sky turned 7 years old. She was going super, though we were still (again?) Having trouble with our canter transitions.

At the end of October we finally got off property again for a lesson in an indoor arena at Evans Park. We worked heaps on our canter, especially counter canter and counter-bending in the canter and she was amazing, as usual, if a bit spicy! We had another lesson in a different indoor at the start of November where we started to really work on laterals, building in shoulder-in to our work to help get her back with me a bit better. We also started learning travers a little bit with mixed success, but her novice-level work was starting to get a little stronger.

Then we finally got out to another training day and we did a pony swap! Sky got ridden by 4 different people and she was so solid and well behaved. Everyone was impressed with her efforts and I got to ride everyone else’s ponies as well and feel how some genuinely advanced work feels!

We were supposed to be going to two competitions in November but BOTH were cancelled because of the truly shitty weather. The insanity of things being cancelled for weather once we finally got out of lockdown was insane.

Then halfway through November Sky tweaked her back quite badly and was off work for two weeks, and then it rained so she was off for another half a week. We’ve had a slow, careful return to work since then, just taking it a bit easy with her as she gets stronger again.

Then right before leaving for SA for Christmas, I had a bit fitter come out and try some new bits on her. We think we might have a winner with an eggbutt bomber bit but we’ll have to try it out a bit longer when I get back from holidays.

And that’s it for 2021! It’s been a bit of a boring second half of the year, again, but hopefully we’ll be back stronger and better than ever for 2022. Maybe. One day we’ll get to compete again I guess?

#horsblr #horses of tumblr #equestrian #equestrians of tumblr #dressage #dressage horse #warmblood #pinto #my horse #my posts #sky #bob

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frostsinth · 3 years

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Burdened by the Stars - Pt. 2

Part 1 - MasterList

I am having so much fun writing this story so far. I had a bit of a struggle to figure out how I wanted it to go, but I think I’ve got that down now. And so it’s getting a bit easier. I hope you guys love this part as much as I do, because it has some returning characters.

I’ve already got most of the next chapter written, so I might post it 12/24 or so if I have enough interest and get far enough along to continue to be ahead of myself.

If you like my work, please think about going to BuyMeACoffee (which you can access from my MasterList above or through my header) to support me. If you would like to commission a piece, DM or shoot me an ask for details.

All the best!

We reached the outer walls of the goblin city an hour or two shy of nightfall, and I heard the trumpets announcing our approach as the gates swung wide. I smiled eagerly, and spurred my mount into a graceful canter through the streets of the outer city. The majority was below ground and deep into the mountainside, but since the signing of the Peace Treaty between the Kingdoms somewhere around a dozen years before, the goblins had set up a trade haven here on the surface. During the day, the streets were often bustling, but with night fast approaching and temperatures dropping they had a quiet air of productivity about them now. A mixture of goblins spattered with the occasional human were closing up shop as I rode, and I heard a few happy cries of greeting and murmurs of excitement when they recognized me as I passed them by. My hair billowed and bounced out wildly behind me, and I offered a friendly wave to the merchants and shoppers who greeted me as I left the royal carriage far behind and rode up the slope to the castle proper.

Those gates opened as well without delay, and the echo of my horse’s hooves clattered about the cobblestones. A herald darted from one side doorway, quickly straightening his tunic. He had only half my name out before I passed him, and he gave a tiny puff of air as he realized the pointlessness of his loud announcement of my arrival was overshadowed by the racket of hooves. But news certainly did travel fast here regardless. It had only been maybe ten minutes since I had first crossed the threshold of the outer city, and already someone was waiting for me at the top of the long, shallow steps. I pulled up my mare short before the wide stairs of the main doors at the head of the courtyard, and my smile grew at the familiar figure I saw standing before them with his shoulders squared and his hands clasped behind his pin-straight back.

I called out to him loudly with a cheery greeting, already swinging out of the saddle before my mount had come to a full stop. A few attendants rushed forward, and I passed her reins over with a kind word of thanks to them and a pat to her thick neck.

The second eldest of our family looked down at me with a slightly exasperated expression. It could be hard to tell with him sometimes; like our oldest brother, he tended to conceal most of his emotions beneath a stony façade. Remnants of a childhood with our strict father, I had been told, though I recalled only very little of that time myself. Not to mention that the etiquette of human court still aired towards a more stoic and reserved composure. But I knew both my brothers well enough to read the tiny changes which denoted their thoughts behind their masks. So I already knew King Nikostratus was not particularly pleased to see me on his doorstep that evening even before he spoke.

“Chickadee, what are you doing here?” He exclaimed as I skipped up the steps to him. “Valerianus assured me he would send word ahead for when to expect you.”

Despite the scolding edge to his voice, he enveloped me in a warm hug when I reached him. It had been more than three months since we had last seen each other after all, though of course we wrote to each other regularly. I forgot how much I had missed him myself until I was firmly enveloped in his arms and his familiar scent. I saw his expression had softened a little by the time I pulled back, and he fondly pushed my hair out of my face as he must have done a million times before.

“The roads were perfectly clear, Niko!” I told him, not fighting his fussing over my wild locks. “I don’t know what Val was waiting for, but I got tired of waiting for it.”

“Please tell me you at least informed our brother you were leaving?” He bemoaned, a slight frown pinching at his brow. I gave him a tiny, sheepish grin, and he sighed heavily in defeat. Gesturing over an attendant. “Morgana, you cannot just ride back and forth across the countryside whenever you very well feel like it. You are a Princess for goodness sakes. It’s dangerous!”

“But Niko-!”

“Auntie Gana!” Came a shouting chorus of gleeful voices from behind my brother in the castle, interrupting his reprimanding and my planned defense.

I dropped to one knee with a returning grin as two of my nephews and one of my nieces sprinted into my arms. They very nearly knocked me over with their combined weight, and I laughed as I fell back onto my bottom.

“My goodness!” I gasped. “Look at how you’ve all grown! Izaak, is that you?? I can barely recognize you! And Lorette! You’ve grown your hair so long!”

I scooped up their youngest, Viktor, into my arms as his remained stubbornly latched around my neck. The other two let me unwrap them so I could stand once more, but clung to my legs and tunic excitedly. I vaguely overheard my brother giving instructions to the attendant to send word to Val about my surprise but safe arrival. I placed a hand on Izaak’s head, scruffing the eleven year old’s hair. He pushed my hand away with a soft yelp and a fussing word before quickly working to smooth out the messy blonde curls as best he could. Lorette tugged on my shirt.

“Auntie Gana, are you here for the rest of winter now?” She asked eagerly.

I looked up at Niko, raising one eyebrow pointedly. I heard the creak of the carriage arriving in the courtyard, followed by the click of its doors as my Ladies emerged from within. My brother looked over at it, then gave another heavy sigh, shaking his head.

“Honestly, chickadee, I should send you straight back.” He told me, but belittled his words by turning and leading the way into the castle proper. “This behavior is absolutely unacceptable and-”

“Ah, I thought I heard the trumpets! And look who’s come to call!” Came a cheery voice, interrupting us for a second time. We turned as a group to face the goblin King as he strode down the hall with an excited skip in his step. “Finally! I thought our little bird might just end up staying south for the winter this year!”

Viktor wriggled to be released at the sight of his father, squealing with delight. I put the four year old on the ground to sprint over to the King next, who scooped him back up with a small touch of difficulty. Even at four, the little human boy was starting to outgrow his tiny 5’2 foot goblin parent. But if the weight bothered him, the goblin King didn’t let it show, sauntering over with a toothy grin and his son perched on one hip.

“Grier, thank goodness,” I greeted him, giving my brother’s husband a warm and grateful smile of relief, “Just in time to talk some sense into Niko! He wants to send me back!”

“Send her back??” Exclaimed Grier, his brow shooting up as he looked over at Niko. “Whatever for?? She just got here!”

His voice was full of his usual vibrant lightness, and it echoed about the large hallway around us. I felt like I was floating on air at its sound. I loved the vibrancy of the goblin kingdom, especially compared to the solemn human court of Geriveria, and that vivacity was in no small part due to its monarchs. It always made me feel so happy to see both of them, though it might be hard to see how they were compatible at all at first glance. Where my brother was soft spoken, stoic, and as unreadable as stone, his husband was everything the opposite. Grier was flamboyant, loud, and wore his emotions on his sleeves for everyone to see. While Niko wore dark solid coats with sensible black or grey pants and subdued gold buttons, Grier wore loud prints, usually several of them at once, with strange cuts, frills, and styles. His long blonde hair was absolutely wild in contrast to Niko’s short cropped black. He wore bangles and bobbles and earrings, where the most my brother ever wore was a decorative belt or a ceremonial sword at his hip. One would be hard pressed to find a more unalike pair of men. But one would be equally hard pressed to find a pair that somehow worked as well together as they did. Or made each other half as happy.

Niko gave Grier a look which equaled the same level of exasperation he had given me just a few moments prior. “She snuck out of the castle, again,” he told him, his voice as level and smooth as always but hinting at his frustration around the edges, “She didn’t inform King Valerianus she was leaving. And she didn’t send word ahead.” His hazel eyes shot back to me, narrowing slightly. “What if something had happened to her on the road? We would never have known until it was far too late.”

I took the scolding with a slightly bowed head, biting my tongue, and even Izaak and Lorette hid behind my legs with the sternness of my brother’s voice. Perhaps out of sympathy; I was sure they had heard that tone more than once themselves. It had the quality of making one feel not fearful of punishment, but instead horribly guilty for their actions. And longing to correct whatever disappointment one had inadvertently fostered. I rested a hand on each of their heads reassuringly.

Grier, however, seemed unaffected by the tone, and waved his free hand with a loud scoff that echoed about the stone hall. “Nonsense! She’s here safe now, and that’s all that matters, isn’t it?” He nudged his husband with his elbow. “Let the girl be, Nikostratus. I’m sure she’s learned her lesson and won’t ever scare you like that again.” His scarlet eyes flicked to me, and his slender brows raised high. “Right, little bird? Certainly your brothers have enough to worry about?”

I nodded solemnly, silently thankful for his intervention. Otherwise the lecture might have continued all night. “Yes, you’re right.” I glanced over at Niko. “I’m sorry, Niko, I didn’t mean to scare you. I promise I won’t do it again.”

“See there? No harm done.” Grier shifted his grip on Viktor, cocking one brow at Nikostratus. “What do you think then?”

My brother gave another long, deep sigh, shaking his head. He considered the goblin for a moment, then I saw his hazel eyes flick down to the children at my knees. I saw the sternness lift from his features again, and Izaak released my leg to move over and stand at his side with a shy smile.

“I suppose I am outnumbered.” He mused, sounding almost indifferent to the fact as he tenderly smoothed Izaak’s hair behind one ear. But then lifted a scolding finger to point at me. “Just this once, I’ll let it go. But never again, chickadee.” He warned.

Grier was already grinning wide before I could offer a response. “Excellent! I’m so happy that’s settled!” He turned to me. “You are just in time for dinner! Would you like to go to your rooms to wash up before? You’ll have to forgive the state of them, we didn’t have a chance to have them fully prepared for your arrival.” He gave a friendly wave to Safa and Lisbet over my shoulder. “I’m sure your Ladies might be able to help to that end, and would remember where everything is should you require aid.”

I smiled back at him. “I should change at the very least. I probably stink of horse.”

That made the goblin laugh, and he hoisted his youngest over one shoulder so that he squealed with delight as well. “You can’t be any worse than these little beasties of ours!”

His words had Izaak and Lorette giggling as well.

“Inunu! I took a bath today! I don’t stink at all!” Lorette proclaimed, going over to wrap herself around his leg. “Izaak is the smelly one! Boys are always smelly!”

“I am not!” He whined angrily, stamping one little foot at his sister. “I take a bath everyday! Right, papa?”

“I know you do, Izaak. You smell wonderful, of course.” Niko reassured him, gently tucking his fingers under his little pointed chin briefly.

“Where are all the rest of the little beasties then?” I asked, looking around as we made our way down the main hall. “Or perhaps I should just follow my nose?”

“Oh, they’re around here somewhere, getting into mischief I am sure.” Grier replied, waving his hand about errantly as his present children burst into a fresh set of giggles at my teasing. “They’ll be down for dinner, gods know they are always hungry.”

“Chickadee,” my brother began as the two older children sprinted off down the hallway ahead of us, bickering amid themselves, “What made you leave without telling Valerianus? That’s not like you, and you know he worries-”

I groaned, shaking my head. “Come on, Niko.” I grumbled, surprised to find myself quite irritated at his prying. “I’ve only been here two minutes! Can’t the nosy brother act wait until later? I’ve got to go get washed up for dinner.”

He looked slightly appalled by my words. “But-”

“I’m here all winter,” I reminded him before he could finish, hopefully curtailing the conversation successfully again, “We’ll have plenty of time to catch up. Right now, I want to go get out of these clothes. Plus I’m famished! And I still haven’t seen Corwin and the twins yet!”

I saw him open his mouth to speak again, and darted over before he could. Springing to the tips of my toes and wrapping my arms around him for a quick hug. His response sputtered on his lips, and I used the opportunity to dart away, my Ladies trailing as fast as they could behind me, hiding their own giggles behind gloved hands. His words had struck a chord of guilt in me that had nothing to do with how I had left without telling Valerianus, and my Ladies’ giggles had me flushing a little darker... I certainly did not want to remember the strange visitor that had driven me out of Geriveria’s castle. But couldn’t help lingering on the thought of him, as he had come unbidden to my thoughts anyways… I wondered if he had anyone to worry about him…

“Was she always this difficult?” I heard my brother mumble softly as I made my way to the nearest stairwell to head to my tower rooms. “I swear, I don’t remember having this much trouble with her when she was little.”

“She’s always been trouble.” I heard Grier chuckle quietly in response. “But she’s all grown up now, Nikostratus. You can’t keep her a little girl forever.”

Another sigh. “... Perhaps if you cast that time spell on her...”

The goblin King’s laughter followed us the rest of the way up the stairs.

...

I sighed deeply, kicking about the powdery snow with my boots as I trudged over to set up my targets by the riverbed again. The forests were quiet this time of year, and a lingering storm from the night before crunched fresh snow underfoot as I moved. I didn’t bother to walk with a lighter step; it didn’t matter. I wasn’t far enough away from the outer castle wall to be in danger, nor was I trying to be particularly stealthy to hide from the old bottles I had brought along for target practice. I didn’t suppose they would much care if I were upwind or down. The forests surrounding the castle were at a high enough altitude that they were mostly inaccessible to anyone coming from beyond the kingdom borders, though it ran alongside the main road in places. I could be alone, but wouldn’t run into any patrols. And was close enough to return with haste should I hear the distinctive alarm bells that signified my absence had been noticed.

Not that it should be today, though perhaps Safa and Lisbet would be looking for me at the castle. I had given them and everyone else the slip that morning when I had left without a word. Tired of their prying and longing for some time alone. I doubted they would spend much time looking for me; I had long outgrown any need for chaperones or nursemaids. Their positions as my Ladies were mostly ceremonial. Occasionally they would help me dress (for my more elaborate and highly disdained ensembles) and they made sure my chambers were kept neat. Otherwise, their only other responsibility was keeping me company. As of late I had pushed for them to take more time for themselves, and they had reluctantly agreed. Giving me long afternoons or sometimes almost full days to myself. They would likely think today no different.

As I collected the bottles and set them back on the fallen tree, I couldn’t help my thoughts wandering again. As they had frequently over the past few days since my arrival at the goblin castle. And Niko’s pestering desire to speak to me had not made my stay any easier. Luckily, he was King after all, and his Royal duties kept him pretty busy. Add that to the overall huge size of the castle, and it was pretty easy to avoid him. Especially as he had quite the knack for getting very lost in its halls without a proper guide. Honestly, I wasn’t sure how he had managed to call the castle his home for the last decade and still not know how to get from the dining hall to his own bedroom without getting lost. But as it was to my advantage this time, I decided to take it as a blessing.

It was my only blessing at the moment, as it seemed my conscience was weighing rather heavily on me. Every time I had even a breath without something to occupy it, my mind raced to the thought of the strange half-orc I had met in the palace gardens of Geriveria. The sky was as dark as my thoughts as I fretted and worried over him. Was he alright? Had I sent him to his death? Certainly, the trek to the crags of Almayit was not an easy one in fair weather, let alone in the deep of winter. Or so I had been told. And the forests of Pyejara? I had read such stories of the beasts that lurked there. I shivered, both against the chill that had descended upon the world with a vengeance for the mild weather days that had preceded it, and for the thought of that fool orc lost somewhere, perhaps in the rocky outcropping. My mind supplied ample visions of misfortune for the poor fellow, to which my stubbornness gave offhanded replies that only left me feeling a little guiltier. His shoulders were bare, and it’s been so cold! Well, then he should have worn a cloak. The footing there is hazardous, what if he twists his ankle out there all alone? Then he shouldn’t have gone alone. I did warn him it was a dangerous place. If he got hurt or lost, it was his own fool fault! Especially for having taken the word of a woman he had just met, after all!

Still, I couldn’t help my thoughts wandering to him, even now as I set my targets and stared at the icy cold water of the small riverbed. I wished perhaps I hadn’t been quite so impulsive and brash. Surely there were other ways to rid myself of a pesky suitor, orc or otherwise. I could have simply told him the truth; that there was no way in hell I was getting married. That was not the path for me, nor had it ever even remotely interested me. I had never fawned over fairytales of true love, or imagined myself a Queen of anywhere. I didn’t want to be some polished princess set on a sparkling throne and no more useful than a flower painted on a wall. I didn’t want to be seen as a reward, or a trophy wife. And I certainly didn’t want to stay in one place for the rest of my life. It may have been a perfect and happy ideal for my brothers, but I had loftier goals for myself.

I paused, thumbing the bowstring thoughtfully. I welcomed the change as my thoughts shifted to wondering how much longer I would have to wait for my own adventure to start. I had spent my life reading about them, or prying them from travelers and merchants. How did one start these things anyways? In the stories, there was always a catalyst. Something that came along to change the main character’s routine. I wondered what mine would be, or if I could in some way instigate it. Perhaps I needed to simply leave. Pack a saddle and go out into the world. I felt the itch of it in my palms, the biting urge in my legs. I imagined with glee the freedom of the open road, of wandering wherever I wished without the binds of my title weighing me down. Out in the world where no one knew nor cared who I was or where I had come from...

Grier had always said there was a natural magic to the world. When I was little, I used to get jealous of the way he could snap his fingers, mutter a word, and simply manipulate the world around him. I poured over the spell books that I managed to sneak out of the royal library, trying my hardest to understand why it worked for him and the other goblins but not for me. When my efforts had been discovered, when Niko had tried to explain to little twelve year old me that humans weren’t able to learn magic... I had been mad; mad at Niko. Mad at Grier. Mad at magic for refusing me, even though I wanted it so much and tried so hard.

Then Grier had taken me to the side and in that soft way he was so good at, said something to me that stuck solidly in my mind even to this day. So much so that I could hear it now as clearly as if he were standing beside me speaking the words anew.

“Magic does not exist to be bent to our will.” He had told me, handing me a handkerchief to wipe at my tear stained cheeks. “It is not made to be commanded about; it has a will of its own.”

“But you command it!” I had argued.

He then shook his head. “I ask of it, and it accepts.” He had replied. “It is a partnership, an understanding… and goblins have been speaking with magic for many, many centuries.”

“.... So Niko was right? I’ll never be able to learn magic?” I had whispered sadly, swallowing back a fresh wave of tears.

He seemed to think about this for a moment, then shook his head again. “You may never hear it,” He admitted, “... Not in the way I do. But that doesn’t mean it won’t be able to hear you.”

“I don’t understand.”

“Magic is all around us.” He explained. “It’s in the air we breathe, and in the stone at our feet… It is always listening.” His toothy grin had filled his face. “How else do you explain the rain starting just as you’re thinking things can’t get any worse? Or when you’re already having a bad day and you accidentally drop your dessert? Or when you spend hours looking for something just to find it in your pocket? Or what about when you bite into a pastry and it brings you back in time to when you used to bake with your brother?”

“...That’s magic?”

He nodded, still smiling. “Sometimes if you think or worry about something enough, magic will hear you. And who knows what it’ll do when it does.”

I was forcibly reminded of this fact when I heard the snap of a branch in the trees behind me. I spun gracefully on one foot, raising my bow and notching an arrow all in the same motion. So that by the time I was facing my would-be attacker, I already had the string drawn level to my ear.

I nearly let it loose in shock when my eyes fell upon the hulking yellowish-green figure standing before me.

Erramun scowled at me, his brow becoming more pronounced as he scrunched it together. Despite the cold, he still wore nothing but the pauldron on his shoulder and the furs about his hips. He was clutching one large hand at his side, and I noticed he was hunched over slightly. He was also filthy. Covered from head to boot with dirt and mud, and gods knew what else. The recognition must have hit him at the same time it hit me, because he shook his head.

“The gods certainly have a sense of humor,” He growled, “To put you back in my path.”

I hesitated, but felt the strong urge to keep the arrow notched. As I was suddenly reminded he was larger than me, and obviously quite cross. Though I was sure he had a good reason to be. My stomach twisted in knots as my hazel eyes darted over him, accessing every inch. Trying to decide how best to handle this particular situation.

“You are certainly the last person I expected to see as well.” I replied coolly. “... Did you find the flower then?” I added, as if it were no more than a casual comment about the weather.

The half-orc laughed, a booming sound that reverberated around the trunks of the trees surrounding us. “Some flower, eh? Magical and rare?” He replied, his scowl deepening. “I searched high and low for it. Then I go back to the castle-” He took a slow, almost menacing step forward, and I matched him for a wary step back “-and the staff tells me that the Princess left.” He cocked his head to the side, considering the tip of my arrow as I straightened a bit taller nervously. “You forgot to mention I had a deadline.”

“We left rather suddenly.” I told him, careful to keep my voice steady. “How did I know you would be back so soon?”

Honestly, I hadn’t expected him to come back at all! Being sent on a wild goose chase, only to return and find out the one person he had sought to impress had left for the winter. By the gods, how had he even managed to get this far? I glanced about, but he seemed to be alone. No one had guided him here. Were orcs so good at hunting that he had been able to track me like a dog, despite my trail being nearly a week cold? I highly doubted that, narrowing my eyes at him suspiciously. I doubted also that the palace staff would have told him where I had gone, especially to a stranger at court. So how had he managed to charm that out of them? What else was he hiding?

He shifted, considering me with an equal wariness. “... So the goblin Princess is here?”

I was very good at keeping emotions from my face, especially the ones I didn’t want anyone else to see. Human court was no place to let such things slip, and I was very practiced there. But I still nearly lost my composure at his words. My lips twitched, and I was much more aware of the distinct pull of the bowstring against my fingertips than I had been previously. I wasn’t sure which was more surprising; that he was still interested after all I had put him through, or that he still didn’t realize who he was talking to.

I chewed over my words for a long moment. “... And if she is?”

He growled from somewhere deep in his chest. I almost winced, but quickly realized the sound wasn’t menacing. It was… affirmative, almost.

“Then I want to meet her.” Emerald eyes fixed on the tip of my arrow again. “Will you put that toothpick down, girl?” He grumbled. “You said you would help me. And I think you owe me now.”

His words sparked a bit of fire in my belly. “Owe you?? Are you really that desperate?” I scoffed. “Are there no orc ladies for you to court back home? Why are you even still here?”

His expression shifted drastically at my sneering, and I drew in a deep breath at the way it made his whole face seem to change. He glanced down, as if burdened by something he could not find the words to describe. But I knew that look. I had seen that look on Val’s face. On Niko’s. That weight of a thousand weights… I swallowed hard, but felt a little of the tension leave the bowstring as my tight grip relaxed. When he looked back up at me, his previous scowl was gone. Replaced by something I wasn’t quite sure how to name. But it made me lower my bow the rest of the way. Who was this man?

“I am a stranger to these lands… I cannot do this alone, but it needs to be done.” He told me, his voice quieter than I had yet heard it, but determined. He sighed, almost in irritation. As if resigned to his fate. “... Will you help me?”

I looked over his shoulder, back towards the castle. I felt guilt and stubbornness in equal parts, fighting for position inside me. But I couldn’t. How was I supposed to help him, when I knew what he wanted? And knowing that what he wanted went against everything I had ever dreamed for myself? I could feel the looming trap of his intent like a heavy iron cage dangling over my head. Following my every move. Ready to drop at the slightest provocation and take away the last of my freedom for good. I had already let this go on for far too long. I couldn’t keep up the lie any longer, but felt the truth was far too heavy to speak. Best to just toss both out the window.

I shook my head, resolved. “No, I’m sorry, I can’t help you.” I replied, returning the arrow to the quiver at my back with one smooth motion and slinging my bow over my shoulders. “I’ve already made enough of a mess of things. Now, if you’ll pardon me-”

I went to collect my pack from the snowy ground and saw him open his mouth as he stepped forward to intercept me. Likely with some argument or further point for his case. But as he stepped forward, barely a yard away, he staggered, wincing heavily. I moved forward instinctually as he fell to one knee, and found my hand on the pauldron plating his shoulder before I had fully realized where I was.

His big head pulled back, emerald eyes meeting mine. Barely a hair’s breadth between our faces. I had dropped to a crouch beside him, and after a long pause where I found myself trapped in his eyes… I pulled back my hand.

He growled quietly, glancing off to the side.

“Are you alright?” I asked tentatively.

He offered a grunt, shrugging one big shoulder. “I will be fine.”

The half-orc shifted his weight, nearly bumping into me as he moved to yank himself back to his feet clumsily. He got almost halfway there before he started staggering again. Once more, I jumped forward, forgoing my previous embarrassment and hesitation to shove my shoulder into his. Propping his larger body up with mine to the best of my ability.

“You certainly don’t seem fine.” I shot back. I saw his hand move from his side as he tried to find his balance, and my eyes went wide with shock to see his side gashed and bloody beneath. “You’re bleeding!”

It was his turn to scoff. “It’s barely a flesh wound.” He grumbled.

“Barely a flesh wound?” I echoed, shaking my head incredulously. “You can’t stand straight. I think we’ve passed the notion of ‘barely’.”

Erramun shrugged, shifting his weight and slowly easing himself back to his own feet. But I noticed him look me over again. I wondered what he was thinking as he did. Did he find me as annoying as I found him? Some errant fly he just couldn’t seem to get rid of? I shuffled my feet in the snow, casting my own attention over towards the castle. Then back at him. I realized now that some of that previously unidentified substance smeared across his filthy skin and furs was probably blood. I could smell it a little now that I was closer, the air had a tangy iron bite to it. It made my stomach twist a little more in guilt.

“... Where are you headed?”

He shrugged again, wincing as he did and his hand returning to clutch at his side. “I haven’t figured that part out yet.”

I groaned. He was an idiot. An absolute, bonafide dumbass. I was quickly realizing that I couldn’t in good conscience leave him again. But I couldn’t exactly bring a bloody and wounded orc through the front gates either. I didn’t imagine I would much enjoy the lecture I would get from Niko once the truth came out. My stomach twisted further with dread at the thought. My mind raced through the other options. Leaving him in the outer city? The stubborn ass would probably end up on my doorstep again. Send him away? I was surprised he had made it as far as he had already. I wasn’t sure he would make it to the road without help now. So what did that leave me with? I almost groaned again, but settled for a sigh as I made up my mind.

“How did you get here?” I asked him, collecting up my bag.

“Eh?” He blinked at me.

I sighed again, more heavily this time, and hoped it was the blood loss making him thicker than a brick wall. “How did you get here?” I repeated. “Did you ride?”

He nodded after a moment. “I have a horse.”

“Well, that’s how most people ride, yes.” I returned, shaking my head. “Come on. Let’s go.”

“You’ll introduce me to the Princess?” He asked, and I thought his voice sounded a few octaves higher with his suddenly piqued interest.

I resisted the urge to wince myself, clearing my throat and shouldering my pack. “I didn’t say that.” I followed him as he staggered back along his own trail in the snow. “But if I leave you out here, you’ll probably freeze to death or something. And I don’t want that on my conscience.”

He snorted, shaking his own head. “I would not die.”

I almost laughed at that. “Indeed. You seem far too stubborn for such a thing.”

We had emerged to a break in the tree line, not far from the road, and found a large horse waiting there with its back legs hobbled. The big white mare whinnied excitedly as we approached, tossing her head up and down to make her mane slap upon her neck. Erramun grinned as he neared, smacking her side fondly and using her for support to maintain his balance.

“Get on.” I ordered him, giving the mare a friendly pat myself. She turned her head, flicking her ears toward me with her nostrils flaring curiously.

Erramun considered me for a moment, still leaning heavily on the mare and smearing more than a little of his blood against her white hide. Perhaps contemplating the order, and the tone with which I had issued it. Watching as I removed her hobble. He raised one eyebrow and peeked about.

“Where are we going?”

“To the castle.” I tucked the hobbling rope into a pouch on her saddle, and took my own pack off to hook over the horn of it. “I’ll take you the back way.”

“Why?”

“To avoid attention. I don’t feel like explaining to the guard why I’m dragging a bleeding orc around the city.”

“Half-orc.” He corrected me, his voice light with his teasing edge.

“So you like to remind me.” I grumbled in response, watching as he carefully hauled himself haphazardly back into the mare’s saddle. “What’s the other half? Ass?”

He laughed, and I felt a slight stiffening to my spine as the sound bounced around us. “Human.” He assured me. “Like you.”

I took up the mare’s reins, patting her nose. She lipped at my fingers, and I tickled under her chin until she gave a pleased whuff.

“Who says I’m human?” I replied lightly, careful to keep my voice overly flat as if to add to the mystery of it.

He laughed again, though softer this time. More a petering chuckle that remained trapped behind his teeth. “You smell human.”

“Smell??”

Erramun nodded. “Orcs have a good sense of smell. Not like ma’iitso, and not so much when only half-orc… but I can tell you are human when you stand close.”

I ignored the shiver that went down my spine at the reminder of our previous proximity, swallowing as I began to lead the mare back through the trees. “Ma’iitso?” I echoed the unfamiliar term by way of distraction.

The half-orc rubbed at the back of his neck, making some strange sounds in his throat. “Eh… the big wild dogs. They hunt in packs.”

“You mean matsio.” I said, realizing what he meant. “Wolves, in Common.”

He didn’t answer for a long moment, and I could almost feel his eyes boring into the back of my skull. I ignored him to the best of my ability, leading the mare not to the main road, but to a small deer trail that ran along the outside wall. Luckily, the goblins depended pretty heavily upon their enchantments. I wouldn’t have to worry about being spotted as we approached the wall and followed along the smoother track I had picked out years ago. Guards did not frequent the turrets, and I knew we would not set off the magical triggers here. Once we got into the castle? That would be a different story...

UPDATE: Part Three HERE

#orc #half orc #monster x human #monster romance #slow burn #terato #exophilia #orc lover #orc boyfriend #frenemies #reluctant mutuals #monster lover #monster boyfriend #Burdened by the Stars #Royal Flush Sequel #li'un ma shkio

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draconica · 3 years

Note

Oooo, for the writing prompt, a little 7+4+1? Or just one, I might be a little greedy 😖🤣

7: Engagement sex 4: Petnames 1: Spicing things up in the bedroom

I made it work, anon ( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°)

I also headcanon Ellis can be a powerbottom so enjoy that

When Ellis returned home from the shop one warm evening, he was humming softly to himself. There was a sly smile to his features as he gently jostled the plastic bag he had brought home. There was no groceries or anything that mundane inside. No, there was something very special inside of this particular carrier.

“Niiick?” he crooned in the hope that his boyfriend was home, and in the mood. Now, he was home, but as Ellis turned the corner into the living room he was met with a sight he wasn't quite expecting to see.

Nick was stood in a black suit - a proper, swanky, three-piece number – and holding a red rose. A soft song was playing on their stereo system, and the lights were turned down low. He had definitely been stood here for some time, waiting for Ellis to return home, and Ellis dropped his smile briefly. The gambler was smooth as silk at the best of times, but this was unexpected.

“Welcome home, sweet peach,” Nick led with, making Ellis blush – that damn pet name of his. “You good?”

Ellis scratched the back of his neck. “Uh, I'm jus' fine,” he smiled, setting down his bag for now, and gesturing to Nick as he took a step towards him. “What's this for?”

In a second, Nick's smile slipped a little, arching his brow. “...You forgot, didn't you?” He rolled his eyes, but that smile soon came right back as he stepped forward also, closing the gap between them and offering him the rose. “July 12th? The day we got out of quarantine?” Nick chuckled, leaning in closer and making it more personal. “The day we moved in together, made the new place official?”

A million thoughts swarmed Ellis's head at that point, taking the rose and knowing he was absolutely overcome with blushes. “O-oh… damn, I guess I did forget,” he giggled, tilting his head a little as his boyfriend leered closer. Even now, Nick was still the most damn attractive man he'd ever met, let alone dated. “M'sorry, darlin', just had a lot on my mind, I guess?” he shrugged.

Nick seemed to understand, nodding once before pulling Ellis in for a kiss. “It's all good, sport. You can make it up to me later. But for now...” he turned and clicked a remote in love control, turning down the music a touch, before his hand returned to where it belonged – holding his lover's.

“Ellis,” he began, looking down at his thumb caressing the back of El's hand. “It's been a hell of a ride to get here, huh? Fighting for our lives every day in the apocalypse, a year of quarantine, and now three years of living together. Before the Green Flu, I was at my lowest point. I… well, wouldn't be alive if I hadn't met you. The zombies were a distraction, but you were a reason to live. You mean the Goddamn world to me, Fireball, and I want to spend every day by your side. So… I have one question for you.” Ellis watched on, mouth dropping, as his boyfriend got down on one knee and produced a velvet box containing a thick silver ring. In the center, there was set a dark blue gemstone. “Ellis, mi tesoro, will you marry me?”

Needless to say, Ellis had not been expecting this today, and that was obvious given the absolute astonishment on his face at that moment. It almost made Nick want to laugh, but he was slightly too nervous for that.

Thankfully, Ellis broke into his lop-sided, brilliant Southern smile. “You sly sumbitch,” he chuckled. “Hell yeah, I'll marry ya!”

The gambler got to his feet, immediately bringing his lover closer into his arms with an unbreakable smile. The ring was a perfect fit onto Ellis's fourth finger, something else that Nick had been worried about, but seeing how snugly it sat made the older man's heart swell. “I love you, Overalls.”

“Love you, too, darlin',” Ellis responded as he brought Nick's face in for a kiss... and then another... and then his arms were around Nick's neck. Any distance between them was suddenly gone.

It wasn't unusual for their kisses to get out of hand, certainly in their earlier days where it seemed like sex was on the table every day (not literally, except for a few times Ellis can remember where they'd gotten adventurous…). That's when Ellis remembered what was in the bag he had brought home. Well, now he had no choice but to surprise his lover with its contents.

By now, Nick's kisses had moved to the mechanic's neck, and Ellis couldn't suppress a shiver as he found his favorite spot just below his ear. Many a hickey had been placed there before, and it was near-enough a certainty that he'd be getting a new one tonight.

“Nick,” he whispered, shifting his hand through the hustler's hair and smiling when he caught sight of the shiny new engagement ring on his finger. “Take me to the bedroom.”

“Oh, sweetheart,” Nick chuckled before tightening his grip around Ellis's waist and hoisting him up, causing the younger man to gasp against his lips. “You don't have to tell me twice.”

Of course, Nick couldn't possibly carry Ellis up a whole staircase and into said bedroom. He wasn't a young man anymore, after all. Not that Ellis minded – it actually gave him a chance to grab the bag he'd brought home. Nick gave him an odd look as he did so, but his young fiancé had simply smiled, told him not to worry about it with a pat to the cheek.

Once they both stepped into the bedroom together, Ellis set the bag down once more and brought Nick into more kisses, having missed them in the thirty seconds they had stopped.

“How long were ya plannin' that for?” asked Ellis curiously as he slipped the black tie from Nick's neck, smiling at him.

Nick shrugged a little. “Few months,” he admitted. “Knew I wanted to marry you someday, seemed like the anniversary of getting out of that Goddamn pandemic was a good time.”

Ellis was now working on those pesky shirt buttons, granting him access to that chest hair he loved so much on Nick. “Romantic as usual,” he mused. “Gotta be honest… I was plannin' a lil' somethin' for us tonight, too. Nothin' big like askin' ya to marry me, so kinda puts my gesture in the shade.”

“Don't be modest, sweet peach,” Nick chuckled, allowing Ellis to remove his suit jacket and leave it on the floor – something he usually gets very picky about.

“Well...” Ellis slipped Nick's belt from his pants, and was pleased at the choice his lover had made – a black leather strap. Yes, this'll do nicely. “I know you like bein' in control 'n all, but I wanna show ya how we ride in the South.”

That piqued the gambler's interest, not in the least because Ellis was looping the belt around his hand, pulling it taught for Nick to see, and something about the sight was enough to set his erection at full mast.

“Ace...” he paused, needing to wet his lips when he found his mouth suddenly dry. “Do I get a say in this?”

“You certainly get to pick the safe word,” mused the mechanic, shifting his weight slightly on his hips as he played with the leather strap some more.

Nick must've been mad, or at least deeply in love, as he decided to shift control over to his little fiancé for the night. “All right,” he conceded, stepping out of his pants which, with lack of support, had pooled onto the floor. “Where do you want me, sugar?”

The mechanic's grin spread further up his cheeks. He led Nick over to their king-sized bed and sat him down. “Now, you go ahead and make yourself comfortable, mister gamblin' man, and I'll go slip outta these here greasy clothes.” With a little canter to his steps, he grabbed the bag once more and headed to their en-suite bathroom, shooting a look over his shoulder. “Recommend losing those there briefs, too. Won't be needin' them at the rodeo.” And with that, he disappeared into the next room, door shutting slowly behind him.

Nick had always been good at following instructions, and Ellis's were about as subtle as a sledgehammer to the face. So, as he stripped himself down completely and got comfortable, he took the time while Ellis was gone to think about some of the more memorable trysts in their relationship.

There was the very first time which had been during the apocalypse. It had been rough and hurried, considering they had just escaped death by the skin of their teeth, and it was more a carnal desire of the most basic of human instincts. Ellis had almost alerted a horde with how loud he'd been.

There was another time, during quarantine, where love had for the first time been entered into the equation. Namely, the first time they had said 'I love you' to each other. Nick had topped then, too. And he wasn't a picky partner by any means – after all, Ellis was young and full of testosterone, and sometimes he needed to fuck just as much as anyone else. Nick had come to enjoy bottoming, absolutely, but he was more or less the one in charge on most nights. Ellis never complained; quite the opposite, in fact. Nick was still lost in thought when suddenly the bathroom door opened at last, revealing Ellis in his attire for the evening: Nothing but a cowboy hat (and one engagement ring).

“Howdy,” he drawled as he leant against the door frame, still playing with Nick's belt in his hands. “Heard there was a no-good city slicker that I needed to take good care of. Assumin' that's you, handsome?”

Nick couldn't' help but smirk up at him, raising an eyebrow. Ellis was unbelievably adorable, especially whenever he was making effort to please him. That included… this. “Goddamn it, Ace,” he shook his head. “Didn't think this was how my night was gonna go.”

Ellis shot him an amused look, then slipped right back into character. “I'm the best darn rodeo rider this side'a Georgia,” he boasted, sauntering closer to the bed. “Ain't no wild stallion I can't tame. So, reck'n you'll be my best ride yet.” The mechanic reached into the bedside drawer to fetch the lube, and took a moment to stand beside the bed, looking over his naked lover. “Safe word?” he asked.

Nick nodded up at him. “Witch.”

Ellis frowned. “Damn, Nick, really? All the words in the entire American language and you had to pick one that reminds me of the time you almost got yourself killed?”

“You almost got me killed,” retorted the hustler, squinting at him. “You're the one who spooked the bitch.” But he shook his head, letting a smile return to his red face. “Fine. Safe word is 'wedding'.”

With a roll of his eyes, Ellis blushed a little as he set the lube down on the table for now. “Good 'nough for me.” Slipping back into character once more, the Southerner crawled his way onto the bed and straddled his lover, halfway up his chest, at one point his erection bobbing near Nick's face. The gambler just watched on with hungry eyes. “Now then… one thing I know about tamin' the wilder beasts is that they need to be trained, sometimes with force.” Ellis looped the leather belt around Nick's neck gently, watching the older's green eyes for any signs of discomfort or fear. There was nothing but trust, and a lot of hunger.

Ellis cinched the belt, not tightly, but enough for Nick to feel the presence of his around his throat. With a twist of his hand, Ellis curled the leather around his wrist and tested the length. There was plenty to work with, and he grinned. “Damn, look at'chu, city boy.” Ellis backed up his hips, grinding himself backwards onto Nick's cock, and watching in triumph as Nick's eyelids fluttered slightly. “I think I'm gonna really enjoy ridin' you.”

The helpless gambler chuckled as he rested his hands on Ellis's thighs, watching those hips move back and forth and craning his neck back a little. A moan almost made it's way out of his mouth, but not quite. Ellis had to try harder. “You're getting more into the kinky sex, Overalls,” he smiled, throwing in a wink. “I'll take credit for that.”

With a tilt of his head, Ellis's hand pulled back, tightening the belt a little like pulling on the leash of a disobedient dog. Nick gasped beneath him, moaning in the afterthought, which made the cowboy grin. “You speak outta turn like that again and you'll be in the doghouse,” he threatened. Reaching over to the nightstand, he took the open tube of lubricant and squirted the thick liquid onto two fingers. The look in his baby blue eyes was so very kinky, and Nick could feel his cock give a twitch in appreciation as he pictured what Ellis was about to do with those fingers.

Picking up the belt once more with his clean hand, those fingers then went behind Ellis, slipped between his cheeks and found his pucker. The younger man was a dab hand at prepping himself, and knew his own body inside and out. While he worked his magic, he moaned aloud and reintroduced his bucking hips back into the mix. The sight was amazingly erotic, and Nick couldn't resist reaching over to play with Ellis's neglected dick. Ellis, for the most part, seemed to allow it, even bucking up again into the gambler's grasp.

“You're thinkin' about it now, aren't ya, city boy?” Ellis chuckled with an open-mouthed grin. “Thinkin' about me ridin' ya real good, getting' ya all hot 'n bothered...” He leant in slightly, pulling once more on Nick's restraint until the man was a little closer. “Thinkin' about how fuckin' good I'm gonna feel around your cock once I'm wet n' ready?”

That accent was so thick, deep with lust, and it was driving Nick crazy. The gambler gave a groan, just as the belt loosened again and allowed him is breath back. His head fell back to the pillow, already seeing a black fuzz around his vision. “God… sweet peach…”

“Yes, my darlin'?” Ellis crooned, by now with three fingers knuckle deep inside of himself.

“Ple…” Nick panted as he closed his eyes. “Please.”

That was all Ellis needed to hear. With another lop-sided smile, the mechanic shifted until he was kneeling and scooted back a little on Nick's body. He kept a keen eye on his fiancé's face, even as he reached behind, took Nick's cock in hand, and slipped himself down onto it like he'd done it a hundred times before.

The card shark grunted and turned his head a little, and Ellis could hear a shift behind him as Nick moved his legs. His feet was planting themselves onto the mattress and knees bending up, in order to provide him with the leverage he needed. Ellis leant back, slipping down further onto Nick's cock while at the same time resting against Nick's thighs like a back rest. He was grateful for that.

“How about that?” Ellis nearly sang as he shifted on Nicolas's lap. “You're bein' a good boy after all.”

Nick said nothing, just looked up at his Southern lover with a smile on his face, throwing in a wink for good measure. Ellis chuckled and wrapped the belt once more around his wrist for another harsh tug, at the same time, lifting his hips and slamming back down in a harsh bounce. The leather crackled in his grip, and Nick drew another breath. His face was getting redder. “El,” he managed, grinding out the noise, and Ellis was careful to make sure he had enough air to speak, should his next breath utter the safe word.

“Giddy up,” purred the cowboy, reaching up to hold his hat before beginning his ride. Putting all his power to his thighs, up and down Ellis's hips went as he bounced away. The sweetest moans left his throat – couldn't rightly help it, as Nick had always been the best lay of his life.

Nick's hands found their way to Ellis's hips, gripping him there and guiding him on and off his dick. In no time at all, Ellis was fully into the sex, letting go of his hat to reach back and steady himself on Nick's knee as he continued to ride him hard.

“Fuck yeah,” Nick murmured to himself as he gazed up at the scene Ellis was blessing him with. He groaned soon afterwards, craning his neck, and smiled up at his lover. “The belt… please… fuck...”

Ellis grinned and slowed his thrusts down a little in order to tug the belt once more, harsher and tighter than previously. Nick's knuckles went white around Ellis's hips.

“Look at ya… enjoyin' yourself so much,” Ellis praised and drove his hips down once more, grinding back on Nick's length. “C'mon, city boy, you know you wanna come inside'a me...”

Nick could hear the blood rushing around his head, fell the pleasure begin to whirlpool around his cock, and did the only thing he knew he could do. He moved a hand to Ellis's dancing erection and gave him a tight sleeve to fuck into, watching with watering eyes. The Southerner groaned and dropped the leather strap in favor of bracing both hands on Nick's legs, rocking himself like crazy. The gambler drew a gasp of air, Ellis threw his head back, and then it all went white.

“NICK!” Ellis broke character at the last minute to shout his fiancé's name in orgasm. He spilled semen all up Nick's chest and some managed to hit his chin. The sight was erotic enough to send the older man tumbling off the precipice himself, filling Ellis up until he was overflowing. Ellis moaned and lifted himself off for the last time, feeling warm liquid seep down the insides of his thighs.

With a sigh, Ellis leant forward and braced his hands on Nick's shoulders to prevent himself from falling atop him. The cowboy hat fell from his head and onto the floor beside the blunt end of the belt. The mechanic looked up at last, seeing Nick with his eyes closed and drawing in large breaths. He blushed as he reached up to carefully removed the leather from his neck, letting it clatter to the carpet.

“Darlin'?” Ellis whispered as he lifted himself off of Nick, in the process grabbing some tissues in order to clear them both up. “Nick.”

Nick opened his eyes at last, letting them fall onto his cute young lover as he grinned. “Even after all these years...” He reached out to cup El's cheek, rubbing his thumb there. “...you still surprise me, Overalls.”

Once the necessary clean-up had been finished, Ellis crawled back onto the bed and cuddled right up to his gambler, running his hand through his fine chest hair. “Glad you enjoyed the show, Nick.” He looked down, admired the ring still snugly on his finger. “Yeah, not quite how you pictured your night goin', huh?”

“No, sir,” agreed Nick and moved his hand up to lace their fingers together. “But if this is how the rest of my life is gonna go, I think I'm okay with that.”

With a short laugh, Ellis reached up to kiss him, rubbing his thumb along Nick's jaw. “Love you, city boy.”

#nellis #nick/ellis #l4d2 #draconicauthor #its so good to be writing them again asdfgfjkdgh ;-;#anonymous

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cranetreegang · 3 years

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OC Witcher Fanfic: Part 3: Let's See What You're Made Of

A/N: First fight scene!! I think fight scenes are probs one of my weaker points in writing, so it took soooo long to write it. I'm very happy with how it turned out though. As always, let me know what you think! I love getting feedback!

Summary: Lanas and Nis track down the cyclops. Lanas worries that Nis will be a hinderance to him. Will Nis prove him wrong, or will she get them both killed?

Word Count: ~3,000

Warnings: Graphic violence, blood, guts... I mean they trying to kill a cyclops.

Read Part 1 and Part 2 Here!

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Lanas wasn’t lying when he said at first light. He had Nis on her horse before the sun even had a chance to rise. She slumped in her saddle, swaying from side to side, and he was doing the same. He didn’t wake her up to take over watch last night, so he barely slept. His tiredness didn't stop him from thinking over how best to handle this cyclops though.

Any wrong move would mean death. Hers more than his. He didn't want her to get in his way. He also knew she was too stubborn and wouldn't stand aside to let him take care of it. His lips pursed as he thought over the upcoming fight. He had three fire bombs and a handful of bolts left from dealing with the spriggan. That wouldn't be enough to take this monstrosity down though. Even with his ogroid oil, cyclopses were known to withstand the most grievous of wounds before dying.

Distance. That was the best strategy for orgoids. It's powerful arms and earth-shattering stomps would make close quarter combat a challenge. One misstep would mean being pulverized into dust. Perhaps Nis wouldn't be useless after all. That was if she was as good with a bow as she claimed to be. If she could keep the cyclops distracted long enough for him to land a few vital hits, then they both might walk out of this unscathed. If she could land her shots, and if the cyclops didn't corner her.

Lanas frowned. There was too much uncertainty and it all surrounded Nis. He hadn't even gotten to the idea of her panicking if the cyclops made any move towards her. A mental image of an arrow landing in his back came to the forefront of his mind.

"Cyclopses aren't like rabbits." Lanas said seemingly out of the blue.

Nis was in the middle of braiding her auburn hair out of her face. She paused for a moment to take in what he just said.

She raised one of her dark brows. "Really?" Her tone was full of mock surprise. "That's not what I've been told. But, I suppose you're the expert on matters such as these."

"This isn't time for jokes, Nis." Lanas growled.

“You’re the one talking about cyclopses and rabbits.” She smirked.

His upper lip curled for a moment before settling. He gripped his reins tighter as he continued, "One hit of a cyclops will kill you."

"Well, that certainly wouldn't be good." Nis chuckled as she finished tying back her hair into a ponytail. "What do you suggest, to avoid such unpleasant things. Like death, or dismemberment. I much like the idea of not being in a cyclops' stomach today."

"Keep your distance. As long as you stay out of its reach you'll be fine." Lanas stopped himself from adding, 'and don't shoot me in the back.'

Nis nodded with a far away gaze. "And, what will you be doing?"

"Killing it."

Nis let out a loud laugh before stifling the abrupt noise due to Lanas' harsh glare. "Oh, Lanny. You say it's not time for jokes, yet here you are. 'Killing it.' Ha! I suppose that's a decent enough plan. I'll keep my distance and you'll kill it. Simple as hunting rabbits."

Lanas sent Horse into a canter to get ahead of Nis. If she wanted to be slaughtered, then so be it. She wasn't his concern or problem anymore. He could get the crowns off her corpse.

Nis caught up to him with an amused grin plastered on her freckled, worry-free face.

"I'm sorry. I don't mean to constantly anger you. I'll follow your lead, fret not my dearest Lanny." Nis said, her stormy eyes giving away her seriousness.

Lanas glanced towards her. "You better. Mistakes could cost us both our lives." He huffed.

"And we surely wouldn't want that." She replied.

Lanas turned his attention to their surroundings, while continuing contemplating different strategies that wouldn't get him killed. Nis was too much of a risk for him to rely on. A fact which annoyed him more than anything else. This was why he preferred to work alone.

He looked to Nis idly flicking through her arrows. A smile tugged on her vermillion colored lips as she hummed some out of key tune he wasn’t familiar with. She looked akin to a noble on a fox hunt more so than a monster hunt. Lanas realized she wasn’t worried because she had no idea how dangerous this was. The very idea made him frustrated. She would learn soon enough, he thought.

It wasn’t until they were halfway to Dorian when Lanas held up his hand to stop them. A faint hint of blood hung in the air. The scent was nearly masked by the aroma of the woodlands. His hair stood on end from the utter silence. He scanned around them until his eyes settled on the branches nearby. Horse rocked underneath Lanas with a heavy snort. He patted Horse's neck with a hush.

"It's near." He informed her as he slid off his saddle. Nis scanned around trying to find where the beast was, but all she saw were dense trees. With a confused sigh, she dismounted Pip.

Lanas rummaged in his saddle bags for a few moments while Nis tied their horses to a slender tree trunk. He stuffed various potions into his bandolier and attached the fire bombs on his side. He hooked a handheld crossbow onto his belt and drew the silver sword from his back. He treated the blade with his last vial of ogroid oil. The gentle smell of Ginatia wafted into the air.

"What's that?" Nis asked as she leaned over his shoulder.

He glances at her then stalked into the forest.

Nis followed behind him with her bow drawn and an arrow nocked. "How do you know it's here? I don't see it anywhere?" She asked.

"Branches are broken up high." He pointed above them and she looked up in awe. She finally saw the twisted and snapped branches above them, but also scattered at their feet. "You'd also hear it before you see it."

"Mhm. I mean, of course. Obviously." She hummed.

Lanas tracked the great beast's movements further into the woods. He managed to find a fresh set of tracks to follow. His senses were on high alert and body eager for the fight to come.

They didn't have to go too deep into the forest before a putrid odor assaulted him. The bear medallion vibrated against his chest. He raised his fist and they knelt down behind some brush.

There, in front of them, they could make out the slouched form of the cyclops. Even sitting, Nis estimated the beast to be at least double, maybe triple, the height of Lanas. Its long black hair clung to its rippling back. Nis was intrigued to see the cyclops wearing a tattered loincloth with a leather belt carrying various objects; like an oversized barrel it had fashioned into a mug. They could hear the sounds of flesh being ripped apart and bones snapping in its mouth as it feasted.

Lanas turned to face Nis with a serious expression. "You will do as I say. Keep your distance and don't get in my way." He paused then added, "Don't shoot me in the back. Please."

She nodded. "Got it."

Lanas spared her a final glance, "Stick to the plan. Distance. Distract. Dodge. I'll do the rest."

He didn't wait for her response as he began making his way into the flattened clearing. Trees had been ruthlessly ripped out or snapped clean in half. The giant cyclops huddled in the center of the destruction. The witcher carefully stepped over and between the shattered limbs littering the soft earth. Lanas could sense Nis somewhere behind him, laying in wait. The cyclops was too distracted eating its latest prey to even notice their approach. The medallion hummed stronger with each step. He unsheathed his sword and took a calm, deep breath through his nose.

Lanas plunged straight into the monster's back, aiming for the beast's heart. The sword couldn't pierce far into the creature's back before being stopped by the cyclops' rib. Lanas cursed immediately for missing his mark. The cyclops wailed in surprised anguish, its nearly devoured deer fell from its grip. He ripped his sword from the iron-like flesh then dove away as the cyclops' mighty fist crashed where he had just stood.

The two hurried to their feet. The cyclops cast its shadow over the witcher, forcing him to look up. Lanas prepared to make another roll when an arrow flew straight into the beast's eye. The cyclops stumbled back. Its hands wildly flailing around.

Lanas used the momentary distraction to slice at the monster's legs. He whirled himself in-between the stomping feet to give the monster deep slashes into the back of its knees.

The cyclops whipped itself around to backhand Lanas away like an annoying bug. He had been able to block the brunt of the attack with his forearms, but he was still sent flying away. The witcher managed to flip himself back to his feet and stop himself from tumbling further across the sharp, broken timber. Several more arrows found their mark into the creature's cheek, ear, and neck. The power from the arrow strikes were enough to keep the beast off balance. The cyclops tried in vain to block the arrows coming from the tree line by raising its tree trunk of an arm to cover its face. Nis' arrows lined its exposed forearm instead.

With the cyclops trying to fend off her attacks, Lanas reached for his crossbow. His hand hovered over it as he took in the dead trees around the cyclops. Instead of the crossbow, he grabbed a fire bomb to throw at the creature's feet. The dried out trees immediately caught then set the beast's clothed calves aflame. It roared out in rage. Its bleeding eye landed on Lanas and figured he was the source of its pain.

The cyclops charged towards the witcher, who threw himself out of the way. He hopped to his feet to begin dancing away from the furious cyclops' chaotic blows. Lanas kept ducking below each wild swing with impressive timing. The ground shook with each step the beast took, making Lanas concentrate on his footwork to avoid tripping on the debris. Embers were flying in the air, spreading the flames. He just needed an opening to land another strike against the brute.

Nis' arrows were no longer stunning the creature and seemed to only be making it angrier. She tried to get some sort of command from Lanas on what to do, but he was struggling to maintain distance.

Lanas' foot landed on a limb that snapped. His foot, unexpectedly, slipped more than he could anticipate. He twisted his body enough to avoid most of the swinging uppercut from the cyclops. Its elbow collided into Lanas' back in a glancing hit. His body was swept across the clearing. He landed face first with an audible grunt. The cyclops pounded its chest while letting out a mighty roar of triumph. Nis sprinted from her cover towards Lanas.

"Lanas! You alright?" She kept her attention on the cyclops while she dragged him by the arm to his feet.

"What are you doing?!" He shoved her away with an annoyed hiss. Pain shot from his back at the quick motion. He winced and nearly fell back down.

She rolled her eyes then stood in front of him. "I'll keep it distracted. Find a way to kill it. You know. The plan." She sent an arrow flying right into the beast's throat. The cyclops ripped the arrow from its thick hide then slammed the ground in rage.

With the attention on her, she sprinted away from Lanas. Her nimble fingers nocked three arrows as she led the cyclops away. With the pressure off of him, Lanas downed an entire vial of Swallow and felt immediate relief. When the cyclops began to charge Nis, she stopped where she was and drew her bow back.

Lanas rushed behind the charging cyclops with the unquestionable sense of dread threatening to come over him. Nis needed to move, or she'd die. He cursed his luck that she chose now, of all times, to freeze. He pushed himself even harder to try and stop the cyclops in time. He pushed himself past the pain. He had to. But he wasn't close enough. He wasn't fast enough. The cyclops had beat him to the naïve wannabe.

"Nis!" He shouted.

Nis hadn't even moved an inch. She took a sure deep breath as the cyclops raised both of its arms to smash her into the ground. That's when she released the arrows. The first arrow found its way into the cyclops' forehead. The second arrow lodged itself into the monster's swollen eye, making the cyclops totally blind. The last arrow landed where the bridge of the cyclops' nose should've been. But the sudden attack didn't stop the cyclops from finishing its movement to smash her.

Before it could pulverize her, she jumped backwards far enough for the creature to slam the ground instead. A puff of dirt and rocks shot into the air from where she had just been. She quickly hopped onto the cyclops' forearm while she readied another arrow. The cyclops tried to shake her off, but she already anticipated this. She let the momentum of its flailing take her away from the cyclops while also landing another painful shot into the cyclops' useless eye. The beast moaned and slammed the ground repeatedly in pain.

All of this happened quicker than Lanas could process. He watched Nis, unharmed, getting away from the cyclops. He stopped where he was and took the beast's tantrum as an opportunity to throw another fire bomb. The creature, charred from the previous one, caught even faster. Burnt flesh and wood filled the smoky air. Lanas rushed behind the cyclops to finish slicing through its flaming charred leg. The monster cried out then fell to its knee with a guttural groan.

Lanas climbed up its back and jumped into the air. He aimed his sword directly into the top of the beast's head. His sword impaled through the cyclops' skull and all the way through its throat.

A wet roar briefly spilled from the creature's mouth before blood consumed its cries. Lanas removed his sword and hopped off its back. The cyclops teetered left to right before collapsing on its side. The ground quivered as the cyclops choked out its last breath. Then silence consumed the woods once more, save for the ravenous flames decorating the already destroyed clearing.

Nis approached the beast with an arrow pointed directly into the creature's heart. "Is it dead?" She asked.

Lanas kicked its foot then sheathed his sword. "It's dead."

Nis let out a relieved sigh as she withdrew her bowstring. She came closer to Lanas with a concerned frown. Her eyes scanned over his obviously injured form. "Looks like the beast got one on you," she quipped as she sheathed her bow.

"I'll be fine." He huffed. He circled around the dead creature before deciding there would be plenty for him to harvest.

Nis watched him with one raised brow as she was ripping her arrows out. He brought out a vial to extract the drool billowing out from its gaping jaw. He then reached into its warm, damp mouth and pulled out its tongue. He examined the appendage, and decided it would be good enough. In one quick slice, the tongue was freed and he stuffed it into his pack.

"That's disgusting." Nis commented.

"Help me get its hair." Lanas ordered.

Nis gave a mock salute as she pulled out her dagger.

She helped him gather clumps of hair, several vials of blood, a liver, and a heart from the cyclops. The fire surrounding them had snuffed itself out, leaving them in a cloud of smoke and ash.

Nis looked over the blood covering her armor with her nose scrunched. "This'll take forever to get out, you know." She sighed.

"Better get used to it if you're gonna make a habit of monster hunting." Lanas gruffly replied. He knelt over his pack to organize his fresh loot.

Nis gave a sharp laugh then shrugged. "I suppose. Especially if I stick with you."

Lanas paused then looked up to her. "Once you've given me my coin, we're done here."

Nis bit her lip which turned into a sheepish smile. "Well, what if I had another job for you."

Lanas grunted as he slung on his pack. "No." He turned on his heel to begin the walk back towards their horses.

Nis matched his stride after a short jog. "I don't think you quite understand. I didn't really need your help with the cyclops. I need your help with something else. Something more dire."

"Don't care." Lanas replied, his gaze dead set in front of him.

"Don't care?! You don't even know what it is. Besides, I believe I just proved to be more than capable of helping you." She glared at Lanas. She took a breath then said, "Just hear what I have to say first. Then, if you still want to refuse the job, you can."

Lanas stopped walking and threw his loaded pack on the ground. He looked over Nis with fresh eyes.

Her skill in that fight, no human could've possibly pulled off. He highly doubted even an Scoia'tael archer could've done what she did. No... there was something wrong. He hadn't been able to figure out what it was that made him on edge. Perhaps, deep down, he hadn't wanted to look any further into it. Not with the amount of crowns she was paying him. But as he stared at the woman before him, the gut feeling returned.

Nis hadn't the time to react to him drawing his sword before she felt the tip of the silver blade pressed into her neck.

"What are you?"

#the witcher 3 #witcher fanfiction #witcher fandom #witcher 3 #the witcher #witcher oc #original character #oc #short story #fanfiction #fanfic #3 wild hunt #tw3 #writing #writers

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misssquidtracy · 3 years

Text

A Tail of Whoa

A pick-me-up for @i-am-chidorixblossom, starring Virgil and Kayo. Not proof-read, but I hope it makes you smile.

Raw humour (a bit on the crude side in places, but sometimes that’s just what life calls for).

Very slight language warning.

Plot: Virgil decides to sharpen his dating skills on Kayo and try and one-up his brothers in the process.

-x-

Kayo met Virgil as instructed in Thunderbird Two’s hanger at six on the dot. She’d followed his advice and was wearing some comfortable cargo trousers paired with flat boots.

Virgil meanwhile, was wearing his usual casual ensemble. Plaid, plaid and more plaid. Kayo’s eyes narrowed in suspicion. He’d lose brownie points for that.

Virgil remained oblivious to Kayo’s displeasure with his wardrobe choice, opting instead to open Thunderbird Two’s hatch, before holding a hand out and bowing slightly, “Ladies first.”

Kayo grunted and hopped into the passenger seat, nose stuck in the air like an aristocratic ostrich.

“No drinking tonight,” she announced sternly as Virgil clambered in after her, “We’re back on the roster in nine hours.”

Virgil threw her a lopsided grin as Thunderbird Two taxied over to its launch ramp, “Oh don’t worry. Where I’m taking you, they don’t have alcohol.”

That piqued Kayo’s interest.

-x-

Gordon shielded his eyes against the sun as Thunderbird Two blasted away from Tracy Island, a devious grin tugging at the corners of his mouth.

“Alright, they’re gone!” he announced, vaulting over one of the sofas as he scurried back into the den, “Time to plug in!”

Scott, who’d had his head stuck in the fridge, glanced up and frowned, “The mini cam is already wired in and good to go. Virgil said their ETA should be around half six, so we can start live streaming then.”

“Where are they going?” Alan asked, popping the top off a can of soda.

“Montana I think,” Scott replied, emerging from the fridge with a plate of leftovers, “I wasn’t really listening when Virgil told me.”

Gordon meanwhile, was busy tinkering with several gadgets that he was trying to link into the den’s holoprojector. In his hands were five different remote controls of some description. The aquanaut punched a fist in the air when a signal was established between the remotes and whatever devices they controlled.

“Scott, can you start streaming now please? I have something I wanna test out before they land.”

Scott frowned, but put his plate down with a sigh and did as ordered. Seconds later, the forms of Virgil and Kayo sat in Thunderbird Two ‘s cockpit appeared.

“Patch in the sound as well, please,” Gordon added, biting his lip as a smile the size of Spain threatened to engulf his face.

Scott obeyed, and Virgil’s voice began to echo around the den.

“So Kayo, I notice that you’re quick to chastise us for our lack of dating activity, but tell me, when was the last time you yourself went on a date? I don’t see you leave Tracy Island for anything other than work.”

While Scott and Alan were preoccupied with listening to Kayo’s reply, Gordon seized one of his remote controls and stabbed one of the buttons on it.

*Fart*

Brothers one and five blinked in shock as a rather vulgar sound reverberated around the den. Meanwhile, on the hologram, Virgil shot Kayo a poorly masked look of horror.

After an awkward second of silence, the engineer tried to resume the conversation.

“Ahem…anyway Kayo, as I was saying-“

*Faaaaaart*

“Geez woman, I get that you might be nervous, but I’m not that scary!” Virgil snapped, twisting his head around to stare at his colleague in disgust.

Kayo, meanwhile, looked equally outraged, “It’s not me you idiot! I thought it was you!”

Virgil gave a splutter that lacked any sort of dignity, “Me? Who do you think I am?! I’m not Gordon!”

At the mention of the aquanaut’s name, Scott sent a shell-shocked glance in his brother’s direction. Gordon was sat on the sofa, proudly brandishing his controller. As if to confirm Scott’s thought, he pressed one of the buttons with an air of flourish.

Another massive toot echoed around Thunderbird Two’s cockpit.

“Fart machine,” Gordon proudly announced, tossing the controller in the air and deftly catching it, “Got four of ‘em stashed all over Thunderbird Two. Virg won’t be looking like such a pro by the time he lands!”

Entranced by anything featuring crude humour, Alan snatched the controller off Gordon and began excitedly smashing the various buttons.

*Fart Fart Faaaaart*

The youngest exploded into hysterics at the expression on Virgil’s face. The engineer looked torn between being utterly mortified and utterly disgusted, “Kayo! For goodness sake, ease up on the ration bars, or whatever the hell you’re eating back there!”

In a state of embarrassed fury, Kayo wrenched off one of her boots and lobbed it at Virgil’s head, clipping him around the ear and causing Thunderbird Two to momentarily launch off course as a result.

“For god’s sake Virgil, this has Gordon written all over it! I’m going to do a quick sweep, he must have stashed away some whoopee cushions that he’s activating remotely.”

Gordon felt panic rising in his chest as Kayo quickly located each and every one of the fart machines he’d hidden throughout Thunderbird Two. Determined to go out on a high note, the aquanaut started stabbing the buttons on each controller in rapid succession, letting loose a long string of artificial flatulence as Kayo expertly located and disabled each machine.

*Fart Fart Fart Faaaaart Fart Fart Faaaaaaart*

Virgil looked as if he were hanging on by a thread as he brought Thunderbird Two in to land, his eyes rising to the heavens as if silently begging his ancestors for strength. By the time he’d opened the hatch and hopped onto solid land (after Kayo of course, because he was a gentleman), he was regretting his decision to choose an activity that didn’t feature alcohol.

-x-

Any reservations Kayo had felt prior to leaving Tracy Island vanished in a flash as she followed Virgil away from Thunderbird Two.

Fart machines forgotten, Thunderbird Shadow’s pilot allowed her inner child to squeal in delight as green eyes clapped onto a corral full of horses.

“A ranch?” she asked, her jaw hitting the floor as she drank in the unfamiliar sights, sounds and smells, “What are we doing at a ranch?”

“You’ll see,” Virgil answered with a suave smile, leading Kayo towards a large barn at the end of the corral they’d landed near.

Back on Tracy Island, Gordon, Scott and Alan stared at the holofeed in stupefied silence.

“Wow…” Alan muttered, sinking onto the sofa in awe as a farmhand handed Virgil the reins of two gorgeous black mustangs, “Geez, I never would have thought of something as cool as going horseback riding!”

Scott gave a low whistle, “He’s set the bar pretty high, that’s for sure.”

Gordon meanwhile, was practically drooling, his love for animals overshadowing his rivalry with Virgil, “Ah man, I’d have packed Thunderbird Two full of apples instead of fart machines if I’d known that was where they were going!”

Kayo looked similarly thrilled. As part of their extensive and ongoing training, every member of International Rescue knew how to ride (some better than others), however it was Kayo who was the secret authority on all things equine.

Virgil was by far the best rider of his brothers, and swung up onto his horse with practised ease. Kayo vaulted up onto her own with evident excitement.

“Reckon she’ll ditch him and go off with the horse instead?” Scott asked, snorting with laughter at his own joke. Gordon made a sound of humorous acknowledgement, but was busy staring at the hologram with an enigmatic expression on his face.

Alan, meanwhile, was utterly enthralled. His blue eyes were wide and his chin was propped up on his hands as he drank in the dramatic Wild West views the spycam was capturing. The fluid motion of Virgil and Kayo’s horses as they glided over the dramatic terrain only captivated Alan further, sucking him into the romantic tension his brother was expertly creating.

Without tearing his eyes from the scene in front of him, Alan hastily reengaged the audio feed and started to eavesdrop on Virgil’s and Kayo’s conversation with rapt interest.

Gordon grunted something about Virgil being ‘old fashioned’, before changing his mind and dropping the ‘fashioned’ to just leave ‘old’. Bored already with the horses and the scenery, the aquanaut shuffled off to the kitchen in search of food, the enigmatic look refusing to leave his face.

On the holofeed, Virgil was pointing towards a rocky outcropping that he and Kayo were cantering towards, “That’s Mount Grinnell, one of Glacier Park’s most iconic mountains. People travel from far and wide just to witness the beautiful sunsets from its peak. The Nakota tribe used to perform san dance rituals at the base of the mountain to pray for good health. Some people say being present at the peak when the sun just starts to set will grant good fortune. Fancy a look?”

Kayo’s eyes looked set to pop clean out of her head, “After that history lesson? Race you up there!”

Scott sighed wistfully as both Kayo and Virgil’s mounts exploded into a gallop, “Man, he is smooth. I mean I’m thinking about going!”

Alan meanwhile, was busy scribbling down every word that left Virgil’s mouth on a piece of scrap paper, pausing every now and then to make side notes on body posture and facial expressions.

“Nice topline, good flanks…” Virgil called as he drew level with Kayo.

“Nice topline, good flanks…” Alan repeated, frantically scrawling for all he was worth.

Scott, who’d been munching his way through his plate of leftovers, lifted his head and frowned, “He’s talking about the horse, Alan. Not Kayo.”

Over in the kitchen, Gordon threw back his head and laughed as Alan hastily crossed out half of his notes, his face the same colour as Thunderbird Three.

As Virgil and Kayo began their ascent up Mount Grinnell, a freshly showered John suddenly materialised from the bathroom.

“What did I miss?” the redhead asked as he glided down the stairs, squinting at the scene that was being broadcast in the middle of the den, “Is that Mount Grinnell? And are they on horseback?”

“Yes and yes,” Gordon replied, slapping some slices of bread onto a plate, “Fancy a peanut butter and jelly sandwich? I can make extra if you’re hungry.”

“Guys!” Alan leapt to his feet as if he’d sat on a firework, “They’ve stopped and dismounted!”

John frowned, “They can’t have summitted that quickly. They must have stopped to rest the horses.”

Alan didn’t care, his attention back on cataloguing Virgil’s every move.

“This could be crunch time!” Scott exclaimed, rubbing his hands together in anticipation as he retook his seat on the sofa, “Let’s see what ‘pro bro’ does when faced with a romantic sunset.”

Gordon choked on his PB&J sandwich, however managed to regain his composure with a quick thump to the chest. Taking a seat on the sofa next to Alan, the aquanaut seemed unable to keep a straight face as he absently crammed the remainder of his sandwich into his mouth.

Alan and Scott meanwhile, were transfixed. Even John was leaning over the back of the sofa in interest.

“Reckon he’ll go for some lip action?” Scott asked, sighing as if he were watching a romantic movie.

“Maybe,” John replied, tilting his head slightly, “You know how competitive he is.”

“Eww!” Alan cringed, visibly disturbed, “You don’t reckon he’ll do that while we’re watching, do you?”

Like an owner instructing a dog to poop on command, John pushed himself vertical and pointed towards the staircase, “Alan, this content might not be suitable for you. Kindly go to bed.”

Gordon barked a laugh at the youngest’s outraged expression, however was quickly hushed by Scott.

“Guys, I think it’s going to happen!”

Four pairs of eyes returned to the holofeed, which was showing a sunset almost as beautiful as the ones seen from Tracy Island. Virgil obviously had his arm around Kayo and Kayo was obviously leaning into him, looking every inch like a besotted teenage girl. Their horses were tethered to a nearby tree, tails swishing calmly.

John and Scott held their breath as Kayo scooted her face closer to Virgil’s, while Alan dove under a cushion for cover.

5…

4…

3…

2…

1…

*Fart*

John’s jaw went slack, while Scott dropped his bowl of leftover lasagne onto the floor, the china shattering on impact.

On the livestream, Virgil and Kayo’s horses reared up in fright at the unfamiliar noise. Before Virgil could so much as locate the fart machine that had somehow been stowed in his back pocket, both horses snapped their reins, spun around and bolted off into the distance.

Alan rounded on Gordon, who was predictably clutching another remote control. John, who’d been absent for the first round of flatulence-induced drama, hastily connected the dots in his head before slapping a palm over his face.

Scott looked about as crestfallen as if his favourite hero had just died. Alan made a mental note to remind his brother that it wasn’t a movie they were watching.

“Gordon…explain,” John instructed wearily, sighing as a headache began to taunt the back of his eyes.

Gordon merely gave the redhead a cocky smile, before tossing the remote control over his shoulder and into a potted fern, “I stashed an emergency fart machine in Virg’s pocket in case things started going too well. Survival of the smartest, not the smoothest.”

A loud string of profanities started to echo around the den as Virgil and Kayo watched their mounts become dim dots on the horizon.

“How are they going to get home?” John asked, tapping the holoscreen, “Aerial scans show that they’re over ten miles from the ranch.”

“Can’t they bring in Thunderbird Two remotely?” Scott suggested, ignoring the high-five Gordon was exchanging with Alan.

“Virgil’s not wearing any of his gear,” John replied grimly, “He’s no way of activating the remote controls.”

“Looks like they’re walking then!” Alan observed, beaming gleefully as the language Virgil and Kayo were throwing began to travel south.

“I’ll go and pick them up in Thunderbird One,” Scott sighed, jolting slightly when Gordon suddenly clamped a hand onto his shoulder.

“You undo my work, and you’ll be next,” the aquanaut threatened, motioning to the horse-less Virgil and Kayo, “Don’t underestimate me, Scott. I can cause real damage.”

Quickly weighing up the risks in his mind, Scott came to a snap conclusion and remained firmly seated on the sofa.

“I don’t want to be anywhere near here when they eventually get back,” John exclaimed, pushing himself away from the sofa and heading back towards the stairs, “I’m off to enjoy a sleep in a proper bed. ‘Night guys.”

“Night!” Alan and Gordon called absently, not tearing their eyes (or ears) away from the livestream for a second. Virgil was shooting the hovering mini-camera a glare that could have stripped the paint clean off Thunderbird’s Three and Four, however Kayo seemed blissfully unaware of its presence.

Gordon and Alan stared on regardless.

“At least they’ll have a good tale to tell when they eventually get home,” Scott began, sniggering as Virgil and Kayo’s exchange reached screaming point.

“Yeah?” Gordon asked, absently hoovering up a couple of stray sandwich crumbs.

Scott grinned wickedly, “A Tail of ‘Whoa’!”

FIN

#thunderbirds fanfiction #fanfiction #thunderbirds #thunderbirds are go #thunderbirds fan #thundernerds #thunderfam #Virgil Tracy #Scott Tracy #Gordon Tracy #John Tracy #alan tracy #kayo kyrano #thunderbird two #tracybrothers #tracybros #tracy brothers #tracy bros #thunderbirds fandom

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prettypurpleponies · 3 years

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At first I was so sad and disappointed after the horse show but after some reflection I’m feeling much better about it.

Part of it was I was super excited for it so my expectations were just really high, and I was really looking forward to doing the 2’ and pushing myself to get the height and have it feel good. And then because no one else was doing the 2’ foot the trainer made me drop down in the 18” which was super disappointing. And like I get it it doesn’t make sense to make 9 other horses plus entourage stay an extra an hour just for me.... but like I also I had been working really hard for the two foot and I really wanted to do it. And then the switch was super stressful too because she didn’t tell me until everyone else was all tacked and ready to go. So I had like a mad dash panic trying to get him tacked and changed and everything. Which was like okay because I had everything ready to go and the class was super big so I did have a lot more time than I thought. But still mad rush panic on top of disappointment is not a great mental state.

And then there’s the fact that everyone else regularly rides with the trainer who came but I ride with a different trainer at the barn which can really make me feel like an outsider and an inconvenience. She’s nice about it, and still gives tips and corrections but it’s harder when I don’t have the rapport with her but she does with all the other riders. And then Like I go in late to join the schooling and the trainer tells me I should just go to warm up ring since he doesn’t need to school since I was planning on doing higher anyway. Which like while true also feels very much like you go over there while we do this.

Plus with dropping down a division I felt like a weird amount of pressure to do really well, and it was a huge class. Plus it has hunters which all about getting your leads and he’s not super great about them. And he’ll do them for his owner who does regularly ride with the trainer so she kept yelling to have me do flying changes with him and it’s just like..... I can’t really get him to do those consistently. Which is just left me feeling extra defeatist. But like I only did my first ever flying change like six month ago and he doesn’t just give them to you. And he gets unbalanced on the wrong lead, which makes me unbalanced and I had been really struggling then a couple months ago, but was finally getting good consistent quick simple changes in the corners. Which is great for normal riding, but those couple trot steps are a big no no in the hunters. So then like it would be better to just leave him on the wrong lead. Which was too much to deal with.

And then we had a couple bad walk- canter transitions in the flat classes (one where we had to trot thru on his bad side which I expected and was tbh fine AND THEN ONE where he picked up straight from a walk in the corner somehow onto his bad lead, which was the incorrect lead, and we canter the whole long side on the wrong lead tight in front of the judge 🤦‍♀️ I didn’t even think to check until the next corner when it felt bad because good direction, plus corner, plus good transition. Sigh.) and they announce the results of the flat class right after so I just was feeling terrible. To get forced down into a lower division and then not do well or ride well was just the worst feeling ever.

But then we went to look at the jumping results and I did better in them and placed in three out of four jumping classes and maybe it shouldn’t have but it did make me feel a little better. I was and still am a little bit upset about being forced into a lower division, but I’m feeling much better about how I ride and how my horse my did.

The jumping class we didn’t we didn’t place in was one where we did a simple change because I got annoyed about just being on the wrong lead and I tried and missed the flying, but it was a choice. And we had a super long spot, which was uhhh less of choice but we had a good recovery!

And then in the one of the equitation classes we got a third! Which out of 12 people is actually pretty great! The course like Sergio because he got one of his leads over the jump going to his good lead, and then I was able to get a flying change in the corner going the other direction! And I’m actually very pleased to have done so well in equitation because I’ve really been trying to work on it!

And then in the two hunter classes he got a fifth and sixth where he just got to keep his wrong lead. Aka after the first jump do the whole course on his favorite lead.... 🤷‍♀️ but still with class sizes of 12 and 11 not a bad showing.

AND HE GOT ALL HIS STRIDES WHICH WAS THE BIG GOAL OF THE DAY.

The goals were:

1. Go over all the jumps in the right order, first try. Very accomplishable and easy for us.

2. Get all the strides correct. Doable but takes a lot left because he really likes to add. Although he’s often more forward at horse shows so in theory easier. But we also didn’t leave out any and had a good rhythm throughout. So I’m pretty damn pleased here.

3. Get all our leads. Lol no. But this was always going to be a hard a goal and we did do it for one course! And I hadn’t fully realized just how badly scored simple changes where until like at the show. So I’m okay with this.

Plus my horse was super all day and just the best boy! He always tries his best for me and I love and appreciate him so much! He makes it all better. I’m definitely still a little disappointed to have not been able/allowed to do the two feet but I still got to have fun jumping my horse and hanging with my barn friends.

Also look how cute he is with his show halter and braids.

#horse show recap #horse show #hunter/jumper #hunter braids #my lease horse #Sergio #Sergio is the best #and yes he got his face stuffed with carrots after

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athenril-of-kirkwall · 3 years

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This is my first self-prompted fic! I’m posting two today.

Blackwall/Cassandra, “Taking the Reins” (AO3)

Blackwall was seated by the fire in the barn, carefully tooling a chess piece.

Dorian had taken his frustration from losing five consecutive games to Cullen out on the board, setting some of them on fire and ripping one to shreds with necrotic energy. Although Josephine had promised to send someone to Val Royeaux to shop for a replacement set, the Warden had taken it upon himself to carve replacements until their envoy had returned.

Besides, since the Inquisitor had decided that she only needed the Iron Bull to hold the line as she explored some recently uncovered ruins in the Emerald Graves, he was getting bored out of his mind, having completed the rest of the tasks he needed to do for the day.

Accompanying Rivka were the self-designated elven expert, Solas, and in what he assumed to be a deliberate provocation of her apostate lover or at the very least a representative of an alternate perspective, the self-designated elven skeptic, Sera. This, along with Vivienne following their envoy to the Orlesian capital and Cole doing…whatever he was doing…left a scarce few of their companions back at Skyhold, including the Lady Seeker, who’d seemed to have been troubled by something ever since settling in.

Speaking of which, that definitely was her coming down the long stairs leading from the main keep. As he turned his attention back to the eyes of the miniature warrior he was working on in wood, he idly wondered what precisely she could be up to down in this courtyard; the surgeon’s tent was comfortingly empty, and it was hardly as though she did much in the way of shopping amongst the stalls which greeted new arrivals.

Looking back up, it seemed to him that she was heading directly to his barn. The breath caught slightly in his throat as he saw her approach him, then dissipated as she went past the barn to look at the stables, leaning on the fence with great consideration, then sighing in that way she usually did.

Putting down the chisel, Blackwall walked towards her, asking from behind, “Is there something in the stables you needed, Lady Seeker?”

Cassandra turned towards him, mildly surprised. “Ah! No, I do not think so, Warden Blackwall. Unless…”

“Unless?”, he asked inquisitively.

“Have you had much experience horse-riding?”, she asked, then shaking her head. “Of course you must have, being a squire in the Grand Tourney and excelling in it, then a Warden alone on the road. Forgive my foolishness.”

Blackwall chuckled slightly, saying, “No need to chastise yourself, Lady Seeker, but yes, I’ve been on the road for quite a fair bit. Surely you also must have needed to ride to wherever you needed for…Seeker business?”

Cassandra sighed deeply, looking distantly. “You would think so, but on the whole I much preferred following a carriage. There have been markedly few occasions where I needed to ride at length, and certainly not in battle. Animals do not tend to react well to uses of Seeker abilities.”

“I can imagine,” Blackwall mused. “I was always much better at the mêlée on foot, but I performed well enough on horseback to get as far as I did during the Grand Tourney. Is there a particular occasion which needs you to ride forth, Lady Seeker? I trust it isn’t an emergency?”

She turned around, sitting back on the fence as she looked in his direction again, noticing the sudden edge of concern in his voice. “Oh, nothing of the kind. Well, not a pressing one. I…have been receiving reports that some malefactors of the recent war are still at large and asked the Inquisitor to inform me if she came across intelligence concerning them.”

“To what end?”, Blackwall asked, filling in the brief silence.

Her gaze steeled. “To bring them to justice, of course. Their victims will never rest easy until they are found and made to pay for their crimes.”

He drew in a breath, responding, “Ah, of course.”

“You don’t approve?”, she asked.

“No, not at all. It’s a worthy creed,” he said carelessly. “But I fail to see what this has to do with my experience riding horses, to be perfectly honest.”

Staring into the distance, through the end walls of the stables, again, Cassandra explained, “I instructed Rivka to send word to me of such intelligence where she went, and I’ve just received Leliana’s raven with a message saying they’ve reached the Emerald Graves. I shall ride to join them upon further news.”

“And you’d be travelling yourself to join them should that happen,” Blackwall finished, comprehending the situation.

“Precisely,” Cassandra said. “However, I had failed to account for the fact that we are high up in the mountains, and I shall be responsible for taking myself and a steed down the mountain paths, and I haven’t had the time to familiarise myself with any of the horses that made it to Haven.”

“I see,” he said, nodding. “Undoubtedly Horsemaster Dennet can give you better instruction—”

“Don’t sell yourself short, Master Blackwall,” The old stablemaster said, leading a large pony from the stables. “I think even the stable boys could get Princess Mairyn here eating out of the Lady Seeker’s hand. Why don’t you give it a shot? Seems to me you’ve been doing nothing but whittling wood all day, anyway.”

Cassandra turned to him, glancing over the fence at the horse.

“With such a glowing testimonial, how can I refuse?”, Blackwall said dryly. “And this is the thanks I get for baling your hay when I’m not woodworking, Master Dennet.”

With a twinkle in his eye, Dennet remarked, “You’ll thank me later, lad. Meant to be reading the latest news from Seanna anyway. Wonder who’s been besting the circuit lately.”

As she approached the Dalish All-Bred, Cassandra asked, “Does it ever concern you that the Inquisition’s stablemaster also organises races on the side?”

“I can’t imagine why it would,” Blackwall said, crossing the fence. “Shall we see how you get on, Lady Seeker?”

Turning to him, she said, “Cassandra.”

“I beg your pardon?”, Blackwall asked.

“If you’re going to be judging my riding, I think you can save on the syllable and use my name, Warden Blackwall,” she said, sizing up the saddle and the stirrup on Princess Mairyn’s left side.

“I’ll thank you to do the same for mine…Cassandra,” Blackwall said, feeling her name roll off his tongue, and idly thinking he liked the sound of it.

Still sensing her smile curling her lip, she stood on the stirrup and, with an effort, mounted the pony, adjusting her seating and getting her to trot, then break out in a gallop after a while as she took the pony around the picket a couple of rounds, coming to a hard stop in front of Blackwall, reins tightly in her hand. She looked down at the Warden, who was scratching his beard mirthfully.

“Oh, out with it already,” she said, “What was so terrible?”

“Well,” Blackwall started, “You’re still in the saddle, so….”

Her eyes narrowing, she said, “Don’t make me kick you from over here, Blackwall.”

Raising his hands defensively, Blackwall said, “I was merely stating a fact, Lady Seek…Cassandra. But I think I do know why it is you prefer galloping to trotting or cantering, although you won’t be able to make poor Princess Mairyn gallop all the way down the Frostbacks.”

“And why is that?”, she asked.

“As it stands,” Blackwall explained, “You’re riding this poor pony hard by gripping her as tight as possible with your legs when she’s trotting and essentially holding on for dear life once she gets up to speed after you’ve kicked her in the sides to get there, and it’s not helped when you’ve got a death-grip on her reins.”

Cassandra bit her lip, exhaling as accepted took the criticism.

He continued, “Well, it’s not as though you wouldn’t be doing much the same in a fight, but…”

“…it’s hardly appropriate for a gentle ride down the mountain path out of here,” she finished.

“Quite so,” Blackwall said. “If you promise you won’t go any faster than a trot, I’ll try to walk alongside you.”

“Very well,” Cassandra said, waiting for him to do so. He reached upwards with his hand, finding her wrist and guiding it gently as she got Princess Mairyn walking.

“Relax your grip, Cassandra,” he said gently, also glancing at her side. “At this speed you don’t need to clutch her tight with your knees either. Same holds for trotting or cantering, really. Just sit back and guide her gently. You can get her trotting with a slight kick.”

The pony started speeding up a little, and Blackwall broke into a light jog, finding the breath to say, “That’s good—don’t forget to relax. Break into a canter when you’re able to, and try that for a couple of rounds instead of forcing our poor Princess into a gallop.”

Moments later, she did that very thing, passing Blackwall thrice before bringing the pony to a far gentler halt than her first attempt, gingerly dismounting before him.

“It seems your prowess is well-earned, Ward…Blackwall,” she said. “Thank you.”

“I think you’ll find the ride down far easier without you attempting to choke Princess Mairyn with your thighs this time,” Blackwall said, before coughing politely and skipping a beat, continuing, “Should you need further guidance and should I be away on other business I’m sure you tear Dennet from his betting book.”

“I’m sure I can manage,” Cassandra said, smiling as she gazed back over to the barn. “Perhaps once you’re done making replacements you could bring them up for a game of chess. I’m sure I owe you that much, Blackwall.”

“I, ah,” he said, scratching the back of his head, “I’m hardly any good at the game, I fear. I mainly find the pieces to look pretty.”

“Oh?”, she asked, genuinely surprised. “Well, that’s even better.”

“How so?”, he asked in return.

“I get to teach you something in return, of course,” she said. “If within a month you manage to make Dorian break the board, I’ll consider it a victory.”

“I believe the pawns you play with in chess are meant to be on the board, not your friends,” Blackwall retorted.

She smiled then laughed a brilliant laugh, nearly a giggle, and turned away, saying, “It’ll be a memory to keep me warm on the mountain path to be sure. Until then, Blackwall.”

With that, she was gone, leaving him alone with his thoughts and the thought of seeing her again across a chessboard, and perhaps the lingering mental image of the Lady Seeker’s thighs astride that horse. No, it surely couldn’t be that. And surely Horsemaster Dennet wasn’t chuckling to himself from across the paddock, having watched the whole thing from his little shack.

Because if it was and he’d somehow engineered the whole damned thing, Blackwall swore that this was the absolute last time he baled hay for the man.

@dadrunkwriting

#blackwall #Cassandra Pentaghast #blackwall/cassandra #aether effect #rivka lavellan #dragon age #dragon age inquisition #skyhold #ao3 #prompt fic #dadrunkwriting #da drunk writing circle #athenril-of-kirkwall #casswall

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itsyourchoice-hp · 3 years

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Year 2: Staff Meeting

Cath realized on Saturday afternoon that she hadn’t seen her brother since his incident in Care of Magical Creatures class. It was strange not to see him with Harry, Ron and Hermione during lunch or study breaks. He was no doubt still sulking nursing his “injury.” Draco certainly had a talent for being dramatic.

She began packing up her schoolbag in the Common Room, deciding to go see if he was in the Great Hall doing homework. Ginny looked up from her copy of the Daily Prophet and frowned.

“Where are you off to?” she asked.

“I’m going to see if I can find Draco,” Cath replied. “We had a bit of a row when he was in the Hospital Wing and I haven’t talked to him since.”

“You two are so strange,” Ginny remarked. “We fight all the time in my family, and we are usually back to normal after about five minutes. Except Ron of course.”

“We all know he’s got a terrible temper,” George teased.

Ron reached over from the chair beside him and gave George a whack on the head with a rolled up bit of parchment.

“Case in point,” Harry grinned.

They laughed as Ron rolled his eyes. Cath stood up and departed from the group. Before she could push the portrait open to leave the Common Room, Hermione appeared at her side, grabbing her arm to stop her.

“Cath, would you er-let me know how he’s doing?” she asked in a low voice, trying to sound nonchalant.

Cath wasn’t quite sure why Hermione was acting so strange about it.

“Sure I can,” she replied. “Is everything alright?”

Hermione glanced to where Ron, Harry, Ginny, Fred and George were seated. “Draco and I sort of had a row as well. I don’t think he understands that Hagrid has the best intentions. And he sort of accused me of taking Harry’s side in it.”

“He said the same thing to me too,” Cath assured her. “He’ll come around like he always does. I’ll come find you when I’m back.

Hermione thanked her before returning to their friends and Cath left the Common Room, hoping she wouldn’t have to make conversation with Sir Cadogan on her way out. When the portrait swung open from the inside, Cath saw Neville waiting to get in, a look of frustration and dismay on his face.

“Thank Merlin,” he said when he saw Cath. “I’ve been trying to get in for nearly an hour!”

“Did you forget the password?” Cath asked him.

“No,” Neville replied. “He’s changed it again!"

“It is my duty to protect Gryffindor House at all costs! I would sooner die before I let some mangy murderer into this castle…” Sir Cadogan said, brandishing his sword and flailing it around threateningly.

Neville showed Cath the piece of parchment he had in his hand. “I’ve written down all the passwords. This is just from this past week!”

“Give him a break,” Cath said to Sir Cadogan. “Can’t you see he’s a Gryffindor? He’s got his house colours on!”

“You aren’t brave enough to face me!” he said. “Come duel me, if you really want to get inside.”

“The password is Codswallops, last time I went in,” Cath said to Neville. She looked back to Sir Cadogan, who was trying to kick his fat pony into a canter.

“Codswallops!” Neville exclaimed.

Sir Cadogan reluctantly sheathed his sword and swung open. Neville sighed in relief. “Thanks Cath,” he said. “I owe you one! I can’t forget to write that one down.”

“No problem,” she replied. She continued down the hallway and down a few flights of stairs until she reached the Great Hall. The portraits on the walls were still talking about the events last night. A few of them stopped her to ask if she had heard anything.

“I heard he has red eyes!” said a portrait of a woman hanging sheets on a clothesline to the portrait next to her, of a wizard brewing a black bubbling potion.

Cath couldn’t help but look over her shoulder every once in a while. She wanted to believe that Hogwarts was safe, but it was hard not to feel afraid when so many rumours were still circulating about Sirius Black.

Sure enough, Draco was sitting in the Great Hall at the table where Slytherins usually sat during meals, with a group of his friends around him. Cath recognized Vincent Crabbe and Gregory Goyle right away, as Cath and Draco’s parents were longtime friends with Vincent and Gregory’s. There was also a girl sitting with them who had short black hair, pale skin and a rather snout-like nose.

Draco looked up when he saw Cath approach her.

Crabbe and Goyle, who were about as thick as they come, greeted her with an awkward wave. The girl with them looked at her as though she were a huge inconvenience.

“Cath,” Draco said. “What are you doing here?”

“Looking for you, actually,” she replied. She felt increasingly uncomfortable by the girl’s stare.

Draco shut his textbook and stood up. “I’ll be back,” he said to his friends.

“Don’t be gone too long,” the black haired girl said.

“Who’s she?” Cath asked once they were out of earshot.

“Pansy Parkinson,” Draco replied. “She’s in my year.”

“Sounds like she fancies you,” Cath remarked.

“What is it that you want?” Draco asked, not indulging her in small talk.

“I haven’t seen you since the hospital wing,” Cath replied. “How is your arm? It looks like you’re doing a lot better.”

Draco held his injured arm close to his side, suddenly wincing in pain. “It’s better than it was… but it still hurts a lot.”

Cath wanted so badly to taunt him, but she knew his fragile ego wouldn’t be able to handle it. “Sounds terrible,” she replied.

“Mother and Father are furious,” Draco said. “They’re meeting with Dumbledore about it tomorrow. There’s no way that stupid giant should be teaching here. They agree. I mean, bringing dangerous animals into class and then letting them attack students? It’s completely irresponsible, don’t you think?”

Cath worried for Hagrid. She knew it wasn’t his fault or his intention that a student get hurt during class. “Well, I’m sure Hagrid feels terrible that you got hurt.”

“He should,” Draco replied. “Anyways, I’m sure you’ve heard all about what happened yesterday?”

Cath nodded. “Ron said he saw the Fat Lady right after it happened. She was absolutely terrified.”

“This isn’t going to look good for Dumbledore,” Draco shook his head. “I’m sure they’re doing everything they can to keep Hogwarts’ image as clean as possible.”

“Hogwarts is safe, everyone knows that,” Cath said.

“But think about what’s happened here the past two years. Last year, with the Chamber of Secrets opening. And in our first year with Professor Quirrell,” Draco pointed out. “That’s a lot of bad press.”

“Do you think Hogwarts would get shut down?” Cath asked.

Draco shrugged. “Dunno. But I’m sure the Ministry will be putting a lot of pressure on Dumbledore to keep things safe around here.”

They were silent for a minute as they stood in the empty corridor.

“You should come watch the Quidditch practice today,” Cath said. “I’m going with Ron and Hermione.”

Draco thought for a minute before shrugging. “Maybe. I have a lot of schoolwork.”

Someone walking past them caught Cath’s attention. She looked to her right and to her surprise saw Professor Lupin, who was carrying a stack of books in his arm. He looked extremely tired and worn. A scarf was wrapped around his neck and he wore a grey knit sweater with brown trousers and well worn dress shoes.

Good afternoon, Malfoys,” he said, dipping his head courteously.

“Professor!” Cath said. “I’m so glad you’re back. Are you feeling much better?"

Professor Lupin smiled, exaggerating the lines at the corners of his eyes and mouth. “I’m feeling better every day, thank you Ms. Malfoy. If you’ll excuse me.”

He kept walking down the corridor in the direction of the staff office.

“Looks like he’s seen better days,” Draco remarked.

“I’m glad he’s back,” Cath said. “It was dreadful having Snape teach Defence.”

“Tell me about it,” Draco agreed. “Anyways, I’ve got to get back. See you later, Cath.”

“This afternoon?” Cath asked him expectantly, raising her eyebrows. She knew that once he spent time with his Gryffindor friends again, he would go right back to normal.

He paused for a moment before replying. “I’ll try to come.”

***

Minerva tapped her foot impatiently, waiting for Albus to stop indulging Professor Sprout in her gushing over the perennials she had planted this year. Nearly all of the professors had gathered in the large meeting room on the tenth floor.

It was a room that was rarely used, except for the very few times that Hogwarts was in some sort of danger. Well, now that Harry Potter attended the school it seemed that something terrible had happened every year. Not that Minerva blamed the boy at all. None of this was his fault.

Poor boy. Only thirteen years old and he had faced death and danger so many times.

Remus Lupin took a seat near Minerva, a ceramic mug of tea in his hands. It was always strange when a former student of Minerva’s went on to teach at Hogwarts. Remus and his friends had been her students when she had started her first year of teaching. After teaching James Potter and Sirius Black, there was no rowdy classroom that Minerva couldn’t have handled.

He had always been so different than those two, Remus. Of course he went along with James and Sirius’ antics, to an extent, but he was quiet, shy, very bright and studious. A real gentle soul. Working with a group of witches and wizards during the Wizard War had certainly hardened him, especially the heartbreak of losing James, Lily, Sirius and Peter.

“Good afternoon, Professor McGonagall,” Remus greeted her politely.

Minerva looked over to him and smiled, shaking her head. “You should know by now that you can call me Minerva.”

“I still haven’t gotten used to it, I suppose,” Remus said, smiling sheepishly.

Professor Dumbledore cleared his throat, and the rest of the teachers that were dwindling and wandering in quickly made their way to a seat.

Finally, Minerva thought.

A piece of parchment and a quill were enchanted to float near Albus’s head and take minutes during their meetings.

“Thank you all for attending this staff meeting,” he said, smiling around at everyone. Minerva had never seen a smile from Dumbledore that wasn’t genuine. She truly didn’t know how he did it.

“First of all, I would like to thank you all for your support during the events of last night. I realize that you had to spring into action during a potentially dangerous time, and your efforts have not gone unnoticed.

Second, I want to give a brief update of what has transpired since last night. The Fat Lady, who guards the entrance to the Gryffindor Common Room, was attacked by someone in the castle. She claims it to be Sirius Black. That night, myself and various others conducted a thorough search of the castle, as well as the grounds. We had Dementors circle the entirety of Hogwarts, but were unable to locate Sirius Black. It is my sincere belief that he is not in Hogwarts.”

There was tangible relief from everyone in the room. Minerva could see the look of absolute hatred on Severus’s face. He probably wanted nothing more than for Black, his childhood bully, to be found.

“We will continue to keep close watch,” Dumbledore continued. “I have received many letters of concern from parents, citizens, and the board of governors. But Hogwarts is not in danger. There is no cause for worry or fear. I am in contact with the Minister of Magic, who sent a team of experienced Aurors to help conduct the search last night.”

“Is it true that he’s after the Potter boy?” asked Charity Burbitch, the professor of Muggle Studies.

Minerva swallowed uncomfortably, allowing herself to steal a glance at Remus. He looked sad, his eyes slightly vacant.

“Sirius Black has indeed escaped Azkaban,” Dumbledore replied. “And I know I can say for myself, that even one night in Azkaban prison would be enough to drive me to escape. He is likely trying to live in hiding.”

Another unfortunate event happened this week. During a Care of Magical Creatures class, a student was injured by a Hippogriff. He has made a full recovery, according to Madam Pomfrey and will not suffer any permanent damage. The animals were being handled carefully and responsibly, as is to be assumed of Rubeus Hagrid. However, the board of governors has raised some concerns to me that I will handle privately.”

“So Lucius Malfoy got the minister involved,” Minerva couldn’t help herself. She did not have fond feelings for the Malfoy family, even despite all they had done to help the Potters.

“How are we going to deal with all this negative press?” Filius Flitwick asked. “First a student is attacked, and then Sirius Black is allegedly spotted in the castle.”

Dumbledore smiled. “Hogwarts is safe and always has been. Its walls and enchantments have stood the test of time. There isn’t a witch or wizard who doesn’t know that to be true.”

“The Daily Prophet can spin nearly anything,” Rolanda Hooch muttered, garnering a few chuckles from teachers.

“Going forward, students are to be in their dormitories by nine o’clock in the evening. Additionally, Dementors will be present at Quidditch practices and matches from now on. We need to ensure that we are taking all the precautionary safety measures necessary. Are there any questions?” Albus asked. the scratches of the quill scribbling on the parchment ceased as he paused. Albus looked around at the room full of teachers. “Well, I suppose that concludes things for the day.”

A few teachers left right away to get to their next classes, while others continued to talk and conspire about Sirius Black.

Remus remained in his seat, still staring at nothing with that sad forlorn look on his face. Minerva hesitated before standing up to leave.

“Remus, are you quite alright?” she asked gently.

He looked up at her as if he had only just realized where he was. He quickly put a smile on his face, though it didn’t quite reach his eyes. “Yes. Just lost in my thoughts, I suppose.”

Minerva nodded and briefly placed a hand on his shoulder before putting her cloak on and heading towards the door.

“Minerva,” Albus stopped her before she left. “The Minister has asked if I fancy meeting him for a drink at the Three Broomsticks next Saturday. Would you like to join us?”

She hoped it would be a pleasure rather than business meeting, although if the Minister for Magic was going to be there it was unlikely to be just for pleasure. “Of course,” Minerva replied.

“I do hope Madam Rosmerta has her hot apple cider ready…” Albus said with a twinkle in his eye.

Sometimes Albus’s optimism could be infuriating. The world could be falling apart around him and he would still be smiling and talking about eatings sweets. But at other times, it felt like it was the only thing keeping Hogwarts together. Minerva relied on Albus’s whimsy, his constant joy and curiosity. As if somehow it gave her permission to be the same when times were tough.

***

“Won’t you be cold?” Ginny said to Cath as they were getting dressed to watch the Quidditch practice.

Cath was wearing a warm knit jumper and a beanie, and was searching for her gloves. “I’ll be fine, Ginny.”

Ginny was putting on a thick winter jacket that looked second hand, and scarf probably knitted by her mom. “Don’t you have a coat?”

“I do, but… it’s ridiculous,” Cath said awkwardly. “My parents got it for me, but it just looks ridiculously posh.”

Ginny was quiet for a moment. “You don’t have to hide your wealth around me, you know. My family isn’t that poor.”

Cath looked up at her, feeling embarrassed. “It’s not that, it’s just… I—”

Ginny didn’t say anything. She just looked at Cath, as if expecting her to finish. It wasn’t difficult to see that the Weasley’s weren’t particularly well off. Cath had never thought any less of them for it, but Ginny was right. Cath felt uncomfortable talking about certain things around her, like vacations her family went on, presents she got for Christmas.

“I’m sorry, Gin,” Cath said.

“You’re going to be cold,” was all she said in reply.

Ginny had a point. It looked as though it were about to snow any day now. The air outside was so cold it made your cheeks sting. Winter was just around the corner.

Cath pulled her jacket out of the bottom of her dresser. It was a long black wool coat with dark green buttons. She pulled her arms through the sleeves and buttoned it all the way up as she followed Ginny out of the dormitory and down the stairs.

Ron and Hermione were already down there, and it appeared as though the two of them were arguing about something. Hermione was clutching her cat, a huge orange fluffy thing with a rather squished looking face.

“I’m telling you, Hermione, that cat has it out for Scabbers!” Ron said crossly at her, holding his pet rat.

“All cats want to chase mice and rats, Ron,” Hermione replied exasperatedly. “He would never hurt him, right Crookshanks?”

“I’ll believe it when I see it,” Ron scowled. “I’m putting Scabbers back upstairs before that evil monster can take another chunk of fur out of him.”

“Everything alright?” Ginny asked, raising an eyebrow.

Hermione sighed and put down Crookshanks, who jumped up onto an armchair and began purring innocently. “Ron thinks Crookshanks is trying to hunt his rat.”

Ginny shrugged. “Scabbers’ time is probably up anyways. It’s just the circle of life.”

"How long has Ron had him?” Cath asked.

"He used to be Percy’s rat, but we’ve had him for… I don’t know, twelve years?” Ginny replied.

“Twelve years?” Cath said incredulously. “Did he find the elixir of life or something?”

“He’s just lucky,” Hermione said.

“We take excellent care of him,” Ron said from the top of the stairs, still refusing to look at Hermione. “He’s lived so long because he’s had such a comfortable life.”

“Don’t get too attached,” Ginny laughed.

The four of them left the Common Room, headed for the Quidditch Pitch.

“I was hoping it would snow,” Cath said disappointedly. “Those clouds don’t look very nice.”

The sky outside was full of thick, grey rainclouds. Cath was suddenly grateful for her warm wool coat. The four walked briskly to the Quidditch pitch, where a few students sat in the stand to watch the practice.

#harry potter fanfiction #Harry Potter #wizarding world #au fic #ao3feed #AO3 fic #ao3 writer #fanfiction writer #Ginny Weasley #Hermione Granger #Ron Weasley #original character #severus snape #dramione #quarantine #writer #fanfiction

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cas-asiaszymanska · 5 months

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November 2

Blog 5 - Activity

20.11.2023

Today we worked further on the poles and trotted a little more as his injury is slowly passing. He was very stiff and less responding than the last times, so it took some time to relax him a little. The end result were not as good as they were during previous rides. It is very probable that after so much time with so little exercise he has just too much energy and is bored with so little entertainment and interactions. The bent to both sides was far worse as well as the contact – he was very hard on the hand. At the end we calmed down a little and did some figures and poles correctly but it for sure was not one of our better trainings.

21.11.2023

Today we focused mainly on dressage, but it was bot easy as just as yesterday, he was very stressed and energetic. He did not bent properly, was very hard with contact and every sound or change made him speed up or jump. It was very hard to control him. At the very end he did one or two good trot circles and a little improved in dressage figures in walk, but it was still not even close to the level from the week before. We will try our best to get him better but before he can canter again and spend time with his fried, it might be hard and he has too much energy and is simple bored.

26.11.2023

Today we practiced responsiveness, quick reaction and relaxing on contact with trying to achieve a little collection. To do that we walking in very slow, calm walk and every few steps stopped, all using as much seat and as little hand as possible. Than we went on to trot with similar exercise and doing proper circles and trying to bent Lambi correctly. We did a few leg yields in walk and shoulder ins in trot and tried riding in a small bent to the inside on the straight lines. It all was hard for him, as he needed to activate his hindquarters, which is not that easy for him yet. At the end he was more focused and responsive, so that was a success. He had some worse moments during trot but at the end it was ok again.

27.11.2023

Today we continued practicing same things as yesterday but with different methods. We did some long-short walk transitions, and shoulder ins in walk (they were better than last time) as well as a few leg yields, both using mostly seat and not hands, which resulted in him being calmer and more correctly responding. Later we did shoulder ins in trot, some circles and tried riding lines with him bend to the inside. At first it was better than yesterday, but later he got a little stressed. At the end we cantered a little, and he was a very good boy – he was calm, responsive and bent well on the turns. After, he was overenthusiastic, as he wanted more canter and started to be stiff, but relaxed after a few circles. Overall I am very happy with today's training.

Blog summary 5

Last two weeks Lambi was a little more stressed and anxious, but we tried working through it, so that at the end of each ride he was more or less responsive and relaxed. We found out that this might have been due to uncomfortability of his saddle, as it is apparently to small for him by now, and we are dealing with this problem now. I am very happy that during the first canter, he was calm and responsive, but am a little worried that he came back to his stiffness during the trot after. It is something we will need to work on for sure. As for bending, he improved, but when is stressed, he blocks it. I also need to adjust my body more to the turns to help him a little more.

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i-write-and-therefore-i-am · 4 years

Text

One Monstrous Miracle (Part Five)

Okay. So. This one got away from me. It got unexpectedly dark, and I’m not sure how I feel about that but I’m going to post it and move on with the story. I am not a happy author about this chapter, for many reasons. Nevertheless, I love each and everyone of you and I hope you find it within you to enjoy this <3 (Pst! If you’d rather read on Ao3, here ya go!)

Previous-Next-First

Pairing: Aziraphale/Human!Reader

Summary: Michael takes some initiative. So does Sandalphon. Uriel is basically the emotional support nerd ig. Aziraphale has a nightmare. Reader does NOT have a good time.

Warnings: Okay listen closely. I have written a non-graphic description of a kidnapping, and subsequently a heavily-implied violence segment. I might be overstating or understating (please tell me if I am understating!), but I just want to keep you lovelies safe.

ALSO: This is NOT a warning, but while you’re here I might as well tell you that I have used they/them pronouns for Michael, and it/its pronouns for Sandalphon (from the script).

Word Count: 2730

(@gif, shits going down)

Michael was not stupid. They were not dimwitted, or blinded by heavenly goodness, or any of the things that they could very easily accuse their fellow celestial beings of…being. They had been paying the Angel Aziraphale very close attention these past millennia, and they had seen exactly what they had expected; the Angel had gone native. Worse than that, he had gone native and he was fraternizing with the enemy. THE enemy. El Numero Uno. The Demon Crowley.

Because Michael was none of the things mentioned above, they had quite a bit of room to be some other things, like cunning, vigilant, and good at waiting for just the right moment. They didn’t bring the aforementioned knowledge to Gabriel’s attention straight away for the sake of…strategy. It had nothing whatsoever to do with the fact that the Archangel-Fucking-Gabriel wasn’t the only gosh darned Archangel around (and that’s with a capital ‘A’, thank you very much), and so there really was no pressing need for Michael to give the information in the first place, now that they thought about it. They could investigate on their own, build up a solid case, and then work from there. Maybe get some respect around the elitist promotion trap that was their Heavenly home. If only.

Michael enlisted Uriel, knowing that she would be invaluable when looking for documents or anything paper related. She had the memory for things exactly like that. Michael brought Sandalphon precisely because they knew that Aziraphale was still terrified of it after what happened at Sodom and Gomorrah. Together, they monitored Aziraphale’s every move—although the angel had somehow devised a way to keep the group from ever being able to overhear any of his traitorous conversations with the hated Crowley, they weren’t deterred in the slightest bit. They could follow the pair, take pictures, perhaps the odd selfie when the mood hit. Michael was building their case against Aziraphale, and it was only a matter of time.

Armageddon threw everything into quite a pretty mess, now didn’t it? Aziraphale was openly discussing his meetings with his “wily adversary”, reporting on the current status and whereabouts of the Antichrist (Warlock. What a revolting name). Things were starting to get fun for the first time in about a hundred years, and Michael simply didn’t have the time for their surveillance missions anymore. Not to mention that Gabriel was demanding that they all stay together as often as possible, which was a nightmare in and of itself. Michael was rather looking forward to the end of the world, not for the gargantuan blood bath that would ensue, as most of their angelic associates where no doubt panting for, but for the endless peace that comes after a job well done.

One day, when the Antichrist (still Warlock, despite Michael’s very best efforts) was 10, nearly 11, Michael noticed something very strange about the familiar bookshop that they and the rest of the group had been watching for the last couple of centuries. There was a woman, well-dressed (Michael assumed. Angels, proper Angels, that is, Aziraphale not included, have no real sense of human fashion), practically cantering down the pavement, apparently towards Aziraphale’s shop. “No, that can’t be right,” Michael thought to themselves. Although, thinking back, that woman did look strikingly familiar. So familiar, in fact, that—

“Uriel! Take a look at this.” Michael had rolled her rolly chair away from her workstation and towards the cubicle to the right of hers. Uriel popped her head around the weird, cloth divider separating their “offices” with a curious expression.

“Yes, Michael? What is it?” The other angel asked from her rolly chair. Michael gestured that she should roll her rolly chair into Michael’s cubicle.

“I’ve found something strange in the Eden files, take a look at it.” The Eden files was their special code name for anything pertaining to Aziraphale that was not, strictly, on the books. This strange something happened to be a livestream of the street where Aziraphale lived. The woman was getting closer to the shop, although not quite close enough to tell if that was, indeed, where she was going. Michael pointed the woman out to Uriel.

“Now. She looks awfully familiar to me.” Michael’s gaze drifted from their finger to Uriel sitting beside them. Uriel had her thinking face on, which could mean one of a million different things and by this point in their long, coworker relationship, Michael had learned to just let her think. Uriel frowned slightly, moved closer to the screen, tapped a single key on the keyboard in front of them on Michael’s desk, and rewound the feed. She paused it. Zoomed in. Michael wondered why it was so difficult for the Management to install some touchscreens on the ground floor, at least for the Archangels and Possibly a few of the Principalities. They’d seen inside of Gabriel’s office (Yes! A whole, bloody corner office with glass windows instead of walls so that he can survey the worker bees in their nest and not one but TWO whole touchscreens!), after all. Uriel snapped her fingers in front of Michael’s face.

“Michael? Were you listening?” Michael, as you know, had not been listening. At all.

“Of course, Uriel. What was that last bit, again?” Uriel sighed and pointed at the woman zeroed in on.

“She visits the shop almost every day. She might be important.” Michael leaned forward in their rolly chair, squinting at the grainy image despite the fact that every angel had perfect 100/100 eyesight. They hummed.

“Yes. I quite agree. Sandalphon?” They called out the name of the coworker whose cubicle stood on the left side of theirs. They heard the familiar sound of the rolly chair growing nearer until Sandalphon sat beside the two other angels. Michael pointed to the woman on the screen.

“Let’s keep an eye on her.” They all watched as Uriel unpaused and the woman entered the shop.

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They did not have to wait long for the woman to make another move. Only a few hours later, she was hurrying out of the doors, clutching onto her purse and…crying?

“He doesn’t hold on to them long, does he?” Sandalphon remarked, rubbing its forefinger across its teeth diamonds. Uriel giggled but sobered when Michael glared at her. This was not the time for making jokes. That woman was certainly a human woman, there was no doubt about that. Why was she spending so much time around Aziraphale? Why had she run sobbing from his shop? Was this like that holiday Aziraphale took with Alexander the Great? Michael very dearly hoped not—Aziraphale had positively ruined that poor boy.

“Keep your focus on that woman. We need to learn more about her.”

The kept the feed trained on her as she made her way home. She didn’t live too far from Aziraphale’s shop. But just far enough that walking was just slightly out of her way. Uriel, the more softhearted of the bunch of angels huddled around the screen, wondered whether they should miracle her a taxicab, but she was quickly shut down.

“What, and give ourselves away? Gabriel would have our halos!” Michael exclaimed, shifting in their chair. Once the woman was in the door, Michael cut the feed, gaining the attention of the others. They cleared their throat.

“Ahem. So. Not only has Aziraphale been seen consistently in the presence of known Demon Crowley, but he also appears to have developed some sort of relationship with a…mortal woman. Once again, Aziraphale proves that he does not have the strength required to walk among them. Instead, he cavorts with them, befriends them—”

“Runs a bookshop,” Sandalphon growled helpfully. Michael nodded appreciatively.

“—and runs a bookshop. Clearly, he is no longer fit for his position.”

“That’s all well and good, Michael, but he can’t be removed from said position. Only the Almighty can deal with that level of personnel change.” Uriel reminded them calmly. Michael sighed deeply.

“I know that. We all know that. The only problem is something must be done about it. Aziraphale can no longer be allowed to continue this way. It’s heinous.” All the angels nodded their head in mutual agreement. They all tried to think of something they could do, but nothing seemed to jump out at anyone. It stayed like this for a few long moments before suddenly, Sandalphon gasped loudly, startling the other two.

“I know!” it said. “The girl. She’s important to him, right?” Uriel scoffed.

“She did just run from his shop in tears, Sandalphon, did you miss that part?” It was unfazed by Uriel’s goading.

“Exactly. It’s Aziraphale! He’s so soft, he’ll go groveling for her forgiveness within a fortnight. And when he does…”

“They’ll make up with each other. Where are you going with this?” Michael interjected impatiently, not in the mood for idle chatter. Sandalphon grinned, its teeth glinting in the Holy light.

“We kidnap her. Get us in Gabriel’s good books, get some information, and, of course, to scare powe ickle bitty Aziwaphawe. Perfect plan.”

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It was not, as it happens, the Perfect Plan. However, credit is due where credit is due, and that credit goes to Sandalphon for thinking of a Nearly-Perfect Plan. It would have been the Perfect Plan had Aziraphale and that blasted woman not been so stubborn and stayed apart for so long. The days until the Antichrist’s birthday were slowly running out, and the time during which the angels could execute said plan was drawing thin. Thankfully, the two made up just in the nick of time, so it had worked out in the end.

The trio had made the trip to Crowley’s flat, knowing that they would find Aziraphale there. Aziraphale had been flustered, but his story about checking about in the demon’s abode appeared to check out. Michael refused to take their eyes off of him the entire time. After they miracled away, they appeared in an alleyway not far from the woman’s home, and on her usual route. Michael had decided, because Michael was a little bit of an ass at times, to make the mystery just a smudge more difficult by abducting the woman outside of the home BUT simultaneously leaving a single, white wing feather on the floor of her locked flat. It really was quite devious for such a pure-hearted creature. Hmm.

The kidnapping went swimmingly. Uriel snuck up behind the woman, Sandalphon had thrown the bag over her head, and once everything was settled (or as settled as can be with a kicking and struggling woman in tow), Michael miracle them into a top-secret location. I’m afraid that I, as the author, am not at liberty to disclose the location of the following events, because of course I’d have to kill you afterwards, and I’d rather not do that.

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Angels do not have dreams. Angels cause dreams in other people, they take away dreams from other people, and they may, upon occasion, serve as conduits for messages from the Almighty, which often appear to other people as dreams. But Angels themselves do not dream. Except for Aziraphale, evidently, whose subconscious had decided to do away with the natural order of things to just…you know…spice it up a little. Aziraphale frowned deeply in his sleep and rolled over, sniffling.

He was in a corridor. There were no lights, only a faint glow that seemed to come from nowhere at all. There was one door, ahead of him, but the rest of the corridor was bare, empty grey concrete. He began to move towards the door, but the corridor seemed to get longer the closer he got, until he was nearly running, trying to make some progress down the hall but never moving one inch.

The scene changed, the corridor erupting into grey and black smoke that smelt faintly of saltwater taffy. The scene reconstructed itself as a square room lit with an old-fashioned lightbulb swinging slowly back and forth from the ceiling. There was a figure shivering on a metal chair in the center of the room, hands tied behind their back and a sack over their head. Aziraphale heard whimpering from the figure and made to rush over to help them but he found that his feet were rooted to the ground, as though someone had glued them straight to the floor. Aziraphale looked up from his shoes and gasped.

Surrounding the figure were Michael, Uriel, and Sandalphon. Michael stood directly in front of the figure, bending over slightly. Sandalphon stood directly behind the figure, fingers grasping at the sack. Uriel stood apart from them both, in the corner opposite to Aziraphale. Michael made a motion at Sandalphon and it yanked the sack off of the person’s head to reveal—

Y/N. Eyes red from crying, hair a mess, makeup smudged and beyond repair. Aziraphale felt his heart stop beating. What the hell was going on? Was this some kind of joke? A voice, nagging at the edge of his consciousness told him that no, it was not a joke. Aziraphale struggled against whatever was holding his feet down with renewed vigor. He stopped when he heard your voice, hoarse and trembling. It broke him to hear you like that.

“W-who are you? What do you w-want from me?” You coughed, and Aziraphale felt a miracle dance along the tip of his fingers. He would make you well again, he would heal whatever has happened to you. You continued. “I have m-money if that’s it! It’s n-not m-m-much but—”

“Silly girl, we don’t want your money.” Came Sandalphon’s voice.

“Mmm, that’s right.” Michael responded. They leaned in closer to you, and you sank deeper into the chair to escape them. “What we want is information.”

“Wh-What? What information? I don’t- “

“What do you know of the Angel Aziraphale?” Azriaphale’s blood went cold. He had been so close to telling you himself! After all of the Armageddon mess was straightened out, he had promised himself, he would march right up to you and tell you the truth. But not now! Not when he couldn’t be there to explain, when you were hurting, being hurt, tied up like some criminal. A noise horribly like a snarl erupted from Aziraphale’s throat, startling him. Was he truly invisible in this room? After a couple of seconds of pure terror, Aziraphale’s pulse began to slow and he realized that this was most likely a vision dream, a message from someone showing him something that was either already happening, or about to happen. He prayed to anyone who would listen that it was neither of those two options.

“I swear I don’t know!” The sound of your terrified voice brought him back. Sandalphon laughed its ugly laugh and Michael chuckled.

“Should we really be doing this, Michael?” Uriel inquired softly from her spot in the corner. Aziraphale was sure he was just projecting his terror onto her, but he thought he could almost see a hint of concern in her deep black eyes. Michael just shook their head.

“It’s not as though she’ll have very long to remember it, will she?” At this, your body seized in horror, eyes open wide in shock. Fresh tears were streaming down your cheeks. Aziraphale wanted to burn this room to the ground.

“Are…are you going to kill me?” you whispered through your crying. Aziraphale held his breath to listen for the answer:

“Oh, dear me, of course not. Do you know how much paperwork that would be? Oh no. Definitely not killing you. As long as you give us the information we need.” Came Michael’s reply.

Aziraphale felt that old rage bubble up inside him, and his sword hand itched, as though the missing sword were a missing limb instead. He took a deep breath and clenched his hands into fists. He would not debase himself in such an appalling manner. He had grown since those days, and he would not be brought to his knees by a dream.

“I told you, I don’t know anything!” you pleaded desperately. The room was beginning to fade away, smoke swirling at the edges, illuminated by the swinging bulb. Aziraphale cried out, reaching out for you only to be met with empty air.

“Oh, we’ll see about that, now, won’t we?”

The last thing Aziraphale heard before waking was the sound of Michael’s laughter.

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#mine #aziraphale x reader #Aziraphale #crowley #good omens #One Monstrous Miracle #michael sheen

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milwrites · 4 years

Text

Weird that it happened twice, right?

chapter two - masterlist

a f e w w e e k s l a t e r

A/N: i can’t believe the filth i have written in this chapter. the formatting is a bit messy and i don’t know why but we move, and that’s about it really. i butchered sean’s dialogue a bit but i like over doing his accent :)) also if you’ve read this far i adore you and please keep going it improves a lot :)

word count:

T/W: smut. language, bad irish accent, a little violence. mainly smut in this one though.

“I ain’t sure if I can come” “I could help you with that.” The flirting never stopped. Being out on a job with us felt like being a third wheel Sean claimed as we got ready to scout a possible lead. “Would ya shut the fuck up and get ready? I'm leavin’ in a min.”

Sean took the lead, Ennis setting the pace for Old Boy and Bonnie to follow. The lead ended up being dead and not worth pursuing, but while heading back to the undergrowth we had left the horses in, John noticed what looked to be a group of Pinkertons coming down the path, armed and alert.

“Shit!” he swore, him and Sean nestling into the cover of some shrubbery, I was still blissfully unaware and still in plain sight watching an eagle through the binoculars Arthur had lent me. “Fucking hell, woman, it ain’t dying for,” he leaned from the bushes and pulled me toward him, grabbing my throat while aiming for my shoulder. Well shit. Probably wasn’t the best time to let Sean find out I wasn’t completely averse to having John’s hand around my neck. John didn’t hear it. Sean did. The little, tiny really, moan that he mercilessly tormented me about as soon as I left John’s side. I was vaguely worried until remembering that no one took a word Sean said seriously 9/10 times.

It worried Dutch, the close encounter the three of us had had with the Pinkertons, but he tossed the worry aside fairly quickly and went back to breaking molly o’Sheas heart a little more every day.

Molly talked to me about her problems with Dutch regularly; I was the only woman with enough free time to do so, the others worked off their feet by Miss Grimshaw and normally too het up with their own problems to talk to Molly about hers. She would pour her heart out to me, crying over the man who seemed to care about her one moment and toss her aside the next. “He’s a prick, Miss o’Shea. Trust me.” The man had given me a home and yet I still held bitter resentment toward him for the way he treated molly. It had been a hard day for her, Dutch had blown her off when she’d asked to talk, and frankly told her she wasn’t important enough for him to spare a moment of his precious time, leaving her inconsolable after I had encouraged her to open up. All I could think to do was open my arms wide, allowing Molly to lean into the embrace, all the while making sure I didn’t cause a single strand of deep red hair to be misplaced from the perfect curls she had set them in.

A set of gunshots rang out. We both jumped a little, more following in quick succession: it was no longer possible that they were the sounds of hunting - it was a gunfight. “That’s coming from Valentine.” “Fuck- John and Dutch are there. I think Arthur too.”

I hurried to where Jack had started crying, the gunfire unremitting and scaring him. I tried to soothe him by picking him up into my arms and bracing him on my hips, but my arms were shaking and my voice trembled when I talked to him. Gunfire had never scared me, and I prided herself on keeping my head while in such situations, and yet being on the outside made it that much worse; I had no idea if any one of the shots that we could hear had torn though John, or Dutch, or Arthur. The other girls in the camp hurried over to where me and Molly stood, the men following them. Charles spoke up, his voice slow and reassuring, as he told us all that this wasn’t any of those men’s first gunfight - and almost definitely wouldn’t be their last. The group dispersed somewhat, I moved to where Sean and Javier were talking to Karen, hoping that Jack might calm down if he was near the people who took care of him most.

The guns stopped. The quiet was more unbearable than the noise, everyone hyper-aware of their own breathing and every flutter of movement in the woods.

5 minutes became 15. Then an hour. Then the clear sound of galloping horses could be heard, crashing through the forest. The Count came into view first, then Arthur's appaloosa mare, and the welcome sight of Old Boy at the back. “Marston!” I ran at him, seeing him dismount unscathed, and leapt into his arms unapologetically. We broke apart panting and beaming. I ruffled his hair. “Glad you’re not dead.”

I looked over to where Charles had greeted Arthur, past them both to see Dutch and Molly. He had his hand on her cheek, delicately stroking his thumb over it, and while I couldn’t make out what he was saying, Molly told me the next morning that it had been apologies and promises of better treatment.

It put me in a slightly melancholic mood; my relationship with John seemed so grey compared to the black and white of Dutch and Molly’s. He hugged me like a friend but flirted with me like he was in love, he let me act the mother to his child but arm wrestled me like one of the men. The list of pet names was endless, the flirting constant, and yet every single time we went to a saloon together he would book a room and find a woman to take to it. Watching him lead her up to his rooms sent me to the bar without fail, the alcohol taking the edge off the searing pain that settled deep in my heart. It struck me so many times that I could do the same, could find someone to make me forget his name for a night, but I never did. Could never quite bring myself to.

I shook myself from my thoughts, finding myself to be leaning against the very man I was thinking of. He offered me the bottle of whiskey and I took it gratefully, half paying attention to what Arthur was saying and half sleepily admiring Bonnie from where I could see her grazing. “John said you’ve been to Clemens Point before, (Y/N)?” “Hmm?” I looked up and nodded, explaining that I’d taken a few horses there as it was a nice schooling ground when people hadn’t set up camps. Arthur and Charles had been and cleared it ready for the rest to move the next day, none of them able to stay at Horseshoe after the incident in Valentine. It occurred to me that I still had no idea what actually happened in Valentine, I had been so wrapped up in my thoughts that I’d missed John’s story completely. I asked him to tell me again, and he did so, only a little perplexed, before asking me what thoughts had been so consuming that I’d zoned out so far. I only shook my head, smiling weakly. Jesus he was close. I stood up abruptly, a second wave of longing crashing over me at his proximity and the tenderness of his tone. He followed me up, scrambling to catch me. He called my name. I turned to him; eyebrows raised expectantly. he rubbed the back of his neck nervously, looking me in the eye. “I-“ he stopped. shook his head. seemed to decide his next words carefully. “Sleep well, darlin’.”

clemens point - 1899

“Vesta! John! Get your sorry asses over here!” Dutch's voice cut through our conversation effectively, causing me to roll my eyes and John to let out an aggrieved sigh. “Dutch. Hosea.” I greeted them with an incline of my head, the two men now parents in my eyes. Hosea spoke first, telling us that a stagecoach was passing through the area in a few days, and that if we could break the lockbox there would be a wealth of jewellery and a considerable stack of money. “You sure we should be robbing already? We’ve only been here a of couple weeks.” I was on edge, Clemens Point was lovely and I didn’t want us to be hounded away from it unduly soon. Dutch gestured to the deputy badge Arthur was wearing from outside the tent in answer, implying that the law wouldn’t be a problem here. I looked out of the tent and over flat iron lake, now happily considering the idea of being sent on a job with John again.

“Sure that’s enough guns, sweetheart?” he called over while I fixed what was once his rifle to Bonnie's saddle and two pistols in my holsters. I wheeled around to see him, saluting him with two fingers and tightening the girth a little more. Bonnie let out a cry as john led Old Boy to where I was mounting.

“Ready?” I questioned eagerly over my shoulder. Bonnie fidgeted and tossed her head, impatient as ever, almost more than me. We set off from camp at a trot, filled with anticipation at the coming robbery. The horses eagerly broke into a canter at the main track, neither of us protesting the change in speed. Once we had reached the narrow bridge that the coach would have to cross, we pulled the face coverings on and waited, the road empty until the creaking wheels and cracking whip alerted him to the impending arrival of our quarry. It was a good job he was paying attention, because I was at that point fiddling with Bonnie’s mane and mercilessly daydreaming about the man beside me.

John stepped out into the road, his voice less recognisable and his demeanour more threatening than mine. He stopped the stagecoach, taking his time in relieving them of their watches, loose change and valuables to give me an ample window to break the lockbox and transfer the contents into a bag. The lock was easy enough to smash with a large rock from the path, and I thanked every god there was for the stacks of dollars within and the bags of ornate jewellery. It looked like it was going to have gone without a hitch for us, when a police whistle broke the silence that had passed over the robbery.

“Fuck. right, we’ve got to get gone.” I yelled to John, darting at Bonnie. The approaching horses were close enough to give chase to us both as we fled the scene; lawmen having arrived worrying fast. The first shot was fired by the lawman at the front of the pursuit, aimed at me and missing by a fraction while I ducked. I drew my weapon and fired 2 shots back at him. The first skimmed past him, the second hitting him square in the skull. John sent warning shots by the horses' feet, slowing them and setting them on edge, allowing him and I to speed up further, turning off the road and heading for a patch of woodland at the very south of the Cumberland forest.

The remaining lawmen faded into the distance, the smell of gunpowder lingering in the air, and blood still rushing through our veins. I looked over to him with a surge of affection as his dark eyes met mine, creasing from the smile hidden by his face covering, and I truly wished that I knew how to tell him in that moment that I was so incredibly in love with him. He brought Old Boy to a walk without warning, causing Bonnie to agitatedly wait for the gelding in halt. They fell back into speed again in a leisurely walk, the horses affectionately nipping at the others neck, an action I wished John could mimic as I became acutely aware of the cool air hitting my exposed neck in the dappled light of the wooded path. I yanked my face covering off with a laugh and my smile widened as John followed suit. He let it remain at his neck, while I stuffed mine into a saddlebag.

“This outfit looks dreadful with a necktie,” I explained in response to his puzzled look, “the neckline on the shirt is too nice.” John slowly nodded, clear that he didn’t know the first thing about necklines, only that the buttons could have been buttoned a lot higher and a lot more skin could have been hidden.

I slowed Bonnie to a halt and dismounted, my boots hitting the earthy ground with a dull thud, and plonked myself onto the ground unceremoniously to sit comfortably. John remained on his horse a little longer, rummaging in his saddlebags as if looking for something, his eyes not leaving my now grinning face, the relief of having escaped the law scot free and with every penny that we stole still intact rushing over me.

The glint of a shining object in John’s hand caught my eye; turning my head and piquing my interest. “Watcha got there, cowboy?” I teased with a tilt of my head, almost adopting the mannerisms of my beloved terrier. He swallowed a little thickly as if steeling himself for something. He tossed a ring in a deep green box at me: a simple silver affair, delicate and of the highest quality - and with it the atmosphere subtly shifted from the relief fuelled joy moments before. “I- fuck- (Y/N), will you marry me?”

The words, they sounded like they should be a joke, like he should have said them in the most sarcastic of voices, and yet he didn’t. I could tell almost immediately that he was deathly serious, that the 6 months' worth of unresolved sexual tension had finally come a head, and that I could finally let John know exactly how I felt.

“No.” A beat. “But I will be yours. One step at a time, eh?” I continued with lopsided grin. John slid off of Old Boy and fell to his knees before me as I raised myself to mine to mirror him. “I love you baby,” he whispered as our lips crashed together in a charged kiss, releasing all of his pent-up emotion into a clash of tongue and teeth. Without breaking apart he repositioned with me on his lap and I ground down on him through pure instinct - the erotica I may have consumed through my mid-teens may also have inspired me. He groaned into the kiss, pulling away only to look into my slightly watering hazel eyes, and I took the opportunity to flash him a nervous smile. “I've never done this before,” I looked down, “pretty memorable first kiss I suppose.” With his index finger he raised my chin back up to meet my gaze again and offered me a gentle peck. “I've gotcha darlin’, if you want me to.” My brows creased, a look of worry gracing my features, lips pouting ever so slightly. “I'm not gonna be any good.” I leaned into him again, not letting him reply before kissing him once more. He broke it after a while, pushing me onto my back; one arm behind me for support, the other pushing me painfully slowly. His sudden gentleness made me giggle. “‘M not made of glass, John” “Are you gonna tell me what to do the whole-time princess?” He lightly teased, a reassuring expression on his face. I opened her mouth to answer him, and he silenced whatever sarcastic comment I was about to make with a kiss, heated and messy.

With one hand gripping my hips, the other in my hair, he lifted them to remove my breeches and underwear in one motion, the expensive lacy under things he found not going unnoticed. “You planned this beforehand, baby girl?” He questioned cockily; an all too knowing look plastered across his face. “I like nice things is all.” I muttered, my slight northern accent shining through the plummy English I’d been taught to adopt, my slight nerves audible in the way my voice had quietened. He asked her once more if I was sure I wanted to do this, he had no intentions of pushing me further than I wished to go, to which I shook my head vehemently; simply asking that he go gentle on me, while pulling his shirt off of his toned body. “Least to start with anyway.” I finished coyly, running my hands down his muscled abdomen, pausing at his waistband. His hands slowly moved up and down my thighs, spreading them gently, and he was unable to smother the slow smile that developed as he beheld me. In an almost tentative manor, he ran a single finger down my slit, noting the sharp intake of air at his slightest touch, and the way I was watching him so intensely as though if I looked away for even a moment he may disappear. “Gonna make you feel real good, sweetheart, just gotta trust me.” He spoke, soothing me with his voice as he used his index finger to find my clit easily. “fuck-” I gasped as he circled it: I’d never so much as been touched even by myself up unto this point, and it wasn’t taking much to send me rocketing towards my peak. My hands held his forearms in a vice like grip, knuckles white and breath short as he brought me to the very edge - tipping me over with one final sweep of his fingers. The way he looked at me brushed away any trace of embarrassment, his loving gaze was so easy to drown in, and I knew in that moment I would never be able to give this up. He lightly kissed my forehead, checking my face for any signs of distress, finding none. I almost immediately scraped my teeth along his exposed neck, causing him to buck his hips into mine, letting me feel how hard he’d become. “Fuck me.” I whispered it right into his ear, no trace of seduction, a simple plea that he appeared more than happy to oblige. He unbuttoned her simple white shirt; most of the buttons having been left undone in the first place, and my brassiere became exposed, matching lace as the underwear he’d removed earlier. The contrast of my skin against the forest green lace had him cursing under his breath - how I’d managed to buy it I had no idea. I began to fiddle with his belt, undoing it and sliding his pants down to his knees, eyeing his cock in awe. I nervously let out a low whistle. “Might hurt a bit doll,” he began softly, “I'll be gentle.”

With my legs hooked above his hips, John slowly eased into me, pausing to let me catch my breath, and continuing in. When he was fully sheathed, I nodded after a moment for him to start moving, which he happily did so. His hand wandered to the base of my throat, and he hovered there, watching my face to gauge my reaction. In that moment I forgot how to think – his hand was on my neck, his hips hitting mine, and my hand came to grip his, placing it higher up neck with a joking wink; sending us both into fits of laughter. Well done me. His thrusts faltered as we laughed, until he squeezed my throat, constricting the blood flow slightly, drawing the most obscene noises from me. “Harder- fuck” I drew out, and unable to tell whether I meant the grip on my neck or the pace he was fucking me at, he did so on both fronts; fucking me at a bruising speed and choking me to the point at which my vision became starry. A slew of praise, degradation, and affection fell from his lips, tightening the coil in my lower body even more. “You’re a good girl” “Fucking filthy ain’t you baby, letting me choke the life outta ya” “You gonna come for me huh? that’s it darlin, cmon come for me”

As I once again raced toward the edge, he lowered his head to kiss and nip at my neck, and he released the hand at my throat to allow him more space. He got in two more pounding thrusts before I was coming hard around his cock, and he followed after me with a string of expletives and praise, his head dropping.

He pulled out of me with a satisfied grunt, and cast an assessing look over my body. He took in my neck littered with bruises and bites, my chest heaving as I brought my breathing back to normal and my slowly widening smile. “I didn’t really get to tell you, but I love you too.” I whispered slightly hoarsely, barely more than a breath, my throat raw and exhausted. His answering nod and genuine smile told me that he knew, he had known for a while.

The morning came about all too quickly, and the thought of returning to camp from the clearing that had been our haven was slightly unpleasant, but as dawn light cascaded through the canopy, we started to pack up the horses once more. Neither of us had brought spare clothes, not anticipating an overnight, so my marked neck was on show to the world as I refused to simply button up my shirt fully.

I managed to mount Bonnie with relative ease, her being a little over 16 hands made it difficult enough normally, and yet I held back her in a walk much longer than either of us usually would, to John's utter delight. “You a bit sore my darlin’?” he questioned while knowing damn well I was, spurring Old Boy into a canter in a clear challenge for me to race him. Never one to back from an honest challenge, I matched his speed easily, adopting a light seat with a smug grin - knowing all those years of technical schooling had finally become useful.

The ride back to camp took longer than expected, the law still patrolling the bigger roads and forcing us two thieves onto the smaller paths and through denser undergrowth. But arrive we did, just before dusk, and the sound of our bell like laughter could be heard in camp before either horse or rider could be seen, peals of it ringing through the camp; a sound of pure happiness and mirth, alerting everyone that the job went well, that we were both still alive and kicking.

No one noticed anything different as john dismounted quickly, even as he walked over to where I was still atop my horse, patting Bonnie's golden shoulder. No one noticed that he had his hands on my waist as he helped me dismount completely unnecessarily, or that he leaned around to kiss my cheek while I undid the girth to remove Bonnie’s saddle. No one noticed that his left hand never wavered from its place at the small of my back as we walked into camp, or that the look we shared was too charged and full of knowing to be anything between two friends. What everyone did notice was Sean's excitable yell as we became close enough for him to see the bags under my eyes, the change in our gaits, the way my neck looked as if I’d been mauled, and the way John was holding me as if I was his. “No way. No way dey fucked after robbin’ a stagecoach. But holy fuck dey did didn’t dey! EVERYONE! JAVIER Y’OWE ME 20 DOLLARS!” I sighed. “Thank you, Sean, for that eloquent announcement. Me and john did indeed fuck.” I thanked him, leaving John’s side to give the Irishman a one-armed hug, before a squealing Karen stole my attention entirely. The woman let out an unintelligible but generally excited squeal, and pulled me into a crushing hug, whispering that maybe this will give the Sean the push he needs to finally make a move. “I'm sure he will miss Karen, and if he doesn’t I'll marry you myself.” I said, shooting him a glance, only to find him clapping John on the shoulder and calling the other gang members over. I extricated myself from the blonde’s embrace to “get a drink”, and quickly found myself back in John’s strong arms watching the campfire spit and crackle, Jack bouncing on my lap, buoyed up on the merry atmosphere of the gang. Dutch had made his speeches: Arthur had taken a shot for every time Dutch mentioned faith, plans, or family, and even Micah clapped me on the shoulder and congratulated me on scoring such a huge amount of money from the stagecoach.

With everyone happy, safe, warm and content, the conversation was easy between us; everyone happily sharing one fire and tensions dissipated by its warmth. The attention had left us entirely, and John could nuzzle his head into my neck from his place beside me, lifting it to poke the marks on it that gave us away so quickly. she giggled as he brushed over them, answering his silent question cheekily. “I only left the buttons undone to seduce you”

#john marston x reader smut #rdr2 #john marston #john marston x reader

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blackroseraven · 3 years

Photo

It was very cold, and I don’t think I managed to take a single decent picture today.

We were the last people there again today: we at least got there before they turned off the lights, though, so we didn’t have to spend time turning everything back on.

The temperature is supposed to really drop tonight so that ended up being an extra reason not to run Quattro too hard. I did ride him, though, and he seemed pretty good: was very stiff and chugged along like a train, and we avoided cantering too much, but he held up really nicely and seemed to be less sore overall.

He did some really nice walk pirouettes, if nothing else, and he was really well behaved. Only attempted to hop once.

I spent a long time afterwards just hanging out with him in the aisle, petting him and petting Vadar, who insisted on shoving his way through his window for attention. It was nice, though. Quiet, undemanding, and considering I’ve had a migraine for two days now that’s what I’ve really needed.

Dumbass has to work tomorrow, unfortunately, so our schedule is going to be all weird this weekend, and likely in the weeks ahead as he gets moved to a different shift. But. We’ll do our best to make it all work, all the same.

#horse #quattro #zara

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splat-dragon · 4 years

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“O-oh, but he’s a present enough, I wasn’t expecting anything, you didn’t need to give me anything!” she glowered at him, moving as though to shove her wallet in his face then pushing it into her jacket, her harsh green eyes brooking no argument.

“I-thank you.” he finally acquiesced, and her grin was well worth it.

“Merry Christmas to you too.”

Wild horses couldn't drag me away Wild, wild horses we'll ride them some day ~Wild Horses, The Rolling Stones

Evan woke him at just-gone sunrise on Christmas Eve, and proceeded to almost kill him of a heart attack at the same time.

He hadn’t realized it was her at first—she’d been dressed different than he’d ever seen her at the shack, in an outfit he’d only seen her wearing while doing work in Lemoyne, when she’d taken down Hixon, and they’d transported the ingredients on the boat. A jean jacket with no sleeves, a white undershirt and jeans, wrist-length gloves, cowboy boots and a cattleman hat. Not at all warm enough for the chilly Grizzlies, even where the shack was built, warmer than the mountains. Lem’d never seen her in the shack in anything other than her Rexroad coat, long worn leather and furs, and she’d startled him enough that he’d scrambled for his gun beneath his pillow, dropping back to the bed when she stepped back, holding her hands up in the seven, leaving him to clutch at his chest, “Y-you startled me!”

She had the grace to look sheepish, scuffing her boot on the wood floor and dipping her head in an exaggerated manner—he didn’t think he’d ever heard her talk, but he’d learned to read her body language in the near-year he’d known her, and she’d always exaggerated her movements when she was using them to communicate, when they weren’t natural but her way of speaking instead.

“What d’ya need?” he grumbled, sitting up and running his fingers through his hair, before realizing that this was Evan and he was in his sleeping clothes and yanking his blanket up to provide himself as much decency as he was going to get, and from the amusement on her face it was clear the action hadn’t gone unnoticed.

She grinned, and reached for his arm, tugging at his union suit, very pointedly indicating ‘come with me!’ and he squawked as she took hold and tried to tug him out of bed—what had gotten into her?! He’d never seen her like this before, she’d always been relatively level headed and withdrawn, although sometimes he’d like to think he’d seen her give him a fond grin when he got over-excited, although he was certain it was his imagination, why would she have smiled at him when he was talking of his plan before the explosion that nearly killed her and had left her permanently scarred him? That burn scar twisted her mouth, left only one side to perk up with her grin, but still her eyes gleamed, and he wondered if she was drunk, had started her Christmas Eve by breaking into their moonshine stash, but her eyes were clear and there was no flush to her face, and he wondered if she was one of those folk who, for some strange reason, changed wholly for the holidays.

“Okay okay I’m comin’! Just… let me get dressed!”

She stared at him.

He stared at her.

With a snort and a shake of her head, she turned sharply on her heel, crossed her arms, and stared at his door as he hurried to dress. He wasn’t a prudish man, not in the least, and was quite used to changing in front of others, but changing in front of Evan was different—though he wasn’t one of those folk who believed that women were inherently weaker than men (just look at Aunt Maggie, after all!) there was something about having her, a woman he could see was relatively muscular even through her clothes, from her bared forearms in those clothes, see a man such as him; he wasn’t fat like a city man, didn’t have a beer gut, but neither was he particularly muscled, either.

Finally dressed, he cleared his throat, and she didn’t even turn around, just hurried out of his room, and he knew better and scurried after her, fumbling the jacket she tossed his way before wrapping it around him, asking “Where we goin’?” but she didn’t answer, instead smirking at him over her shoulder, nodding towards the door in another clear ‘Come on!’ and waving at Aunt Maggie as she walked by, the woman calling out

“You two have fun,” eye knowing as she looked at Lem, refusing to say anything more when he stared at her pleadingly.

Outside her Thoroughbred waited, a handsome thing he’d only seen once or twice, a dark red it looked near black, and he looked around to see if she’d brought another horse—usually she brought her nastily tempered Ardennes Cassim and either Scheherazade her Criollo or Douban her reddish Walker for him to ride if she wanted him to ride with her for work, but he’d never complain if she didn’t bring Cassim, that horse hated him, hated everyone it seemed, excepting her.

She slung herself up into the horse’s saddle, and he tried to remember its name (Sinbad, he was pretty sure), before offering her hand to help him up, and even as he swung himself up behind her he asked “Don’t you want to get a jacket?” because it was freezing so early in the morning, even with his fur jacket he was shivering, and he could feel her do the same as he put his hands on her hips to balance himself as she kicked the horse into a canter, shaking her head.

Although it was impossible for him to miss the way she leaned back into him, seeking his body heat.

To his confusion, they didn’t ride far at all, barely an hour and a half—and awkward hour and a half, seeing as they couldn’t much keep up a conversation, though she didn’t have to guide the horse as it followed the road on its own, clearly having traversed it many times before, she couldn’t exaggerate her movements to respond to him, only nod or shake her head, and he ran out of yes-or-no topics within the first half-of-an-hour.

She pulled Sinbad to a stop not far from the larkspur fields in the Big Valley, grinning at him and pushing on his shoulder to gesture him to dismount. He did so, her boots thumping to the ground only moments later, patting the horse on the shoulder before tying his reins around his saddlehorn, but not hitching him, which would be just asking for him to be eaten considering they were in grizzly and cougar territory, shivering and rubbing her arms before gesturing ‘follow me’ and dropping into a crouch, so he did the same, slinking after her as she crawled up a hill that led up the flower fields, carefully avoiding the creek.

Her arm shot out, pressing against his chest before they crested the hill, “Wh-” he started to ask but she looked at him and pressed her finger to her mouth in a universally recognized ‘shhh,’ and only pulled it away when he nodded, her face almost comically serious. He mimicked her when she lowered herself to her stomach, belly-crawling up through the grass, grinning at him and pointing at a herd of horses not far away, that would surely have been spooked if he spoke or if they had walked over the hill.

She looked over at him, arched an eyebrow and gestured at the horses, and he whispered, “They’re beautiful,” looking over the herd, over the Saddlers and the Standardbreds, grazing and rolling and dozing, foals cavorting around. One little grey Saddler suckled at his black-and-white mama, and he grinned—movement next to him caught his eye, looking over to see Evan pulling out one of those new-fangled portable cameras, taking a picture that seemed painfully loud in the silence. They both froze, and the herd looked their way, a palomino mare trotting towards them and blowing loudly, but slowly the herd went back to their activities, though the mare, who they took to be the lead mare, kept an eye their way.

Evan nudged his shoulder, and he startled, looking at her and mouthing‘what?’ She pointed at a black Standardbred, and tilted her head at him—'what do you think?’ was the closest he could gather, and he shrugged; it looked pretty scrawny, nothing that would be useful to her. He gestured to a nearby Saddler of the same color, and she shook her head, making a cradling gesture with her hand—'too young’ .

She pointed at a pretty pinto Saddle mare, eyeing at him and tilting her head, and he gave a half-hearted nod. It was in good health, it looked like, but was just a middling thing, didn’t look too fast or strong or stood out in any sort of way. Evan made a sound that was half-snort-half-laugh, shook her head and gestured at a grey Saddler, but he didn’t even have a chance to respond before she was shaking her head, the horse having begun to walk, showing that it was clearly lame in its right hind leg.

There was a long moment where she didn’t move or speak, and he looked over to see her green eyes scanning the herd, the various Saddlers and Standardbreds, chewing her lip. Finally, she perked up, looking at him and pointing at a stallion that stood off to the side, tail swishing as it watched the forest with a wary eye, and even he couldn’t find any fault in it—it was a handsome thing, buckskin with a long black mane, and he was sure it would gleam if given a good brush down. Muscles rippled beneath his pelt when he trotted along the treeline, no sign of lameness to be found.

If you were looking for a good wild horse, he was the best you were going to get. Better than a fair few captive bred horses, too.

He nodded, gave his enthusiastic approval, and she flashed a wide grin, crawled as cross as she could get to the tree line before moving up to her knees, then to her feet, staying in a low crouch, while he remained where he was for fear of startling the horses. She kissed her teeth as she approached the stallion, the horse prancing back, snorting in alarm. The rest of the herd screamed, rearing up before fleeing, the foals bolting after their mamas, but thankfully the stallion was either curious or intended on distracting the ‘threat’, as he stamped his hooves but remained where he stood.

Evan kissed her teeth, clicked her tongue and held her hands out in a ‘I mean no harm’ sort of way as she carefully approached the stallion—she did a lot of stupid things, a lot of dangerous things, a lot of stupid, dangerous things, but she didn’t care to die of a horse kick or horse bite. She was an outlaw through and through, and wanted to die the way of one—blown up or shot through, although she wasn’t so selfish as to only intend to die while outlawing, she was an outlaw and a trader and a moonshiner, too, so being shot or blown up while doing those things was alright, too.

The stallion snorted, threw his head back and reared, slamming his hooves into the ground, and danced back. She went still to let him settle, clicking her tongue and humming low in her throat, wishing she could speak but it wasn’t worth the pain, but those soothing words would have been nice, then. All she could do, though, was click and kiss her tongue and shush, approach as non-threateningly as was possible, though it didn’t quite come natural to her, until finally she was within touching distance. The buckskin was tense, and when she reached out, slowly, to pat his neck his skin twitched beneath her hand, but he allowed it.

“Shhh,” she hushed between her teeth, ‘See? We’re friends,’ feeling Lem’s eyes burning holes in her back and fighting the urge to preen and then, when the horse began to lean into the touch, she leaped up onto his back, fisting his mane in her hand and clenching her legs in tight in that sweet spot behind his shoulders, relaxing as he screamed and began to buck making his way through the larkspur flowers, hearing Lem whoop and holler and wishing she could do the same as adrenaline ran through her, she always loved breaking horses though it wasn’t a very good way of earning money.

She twisted with the horse, leaning right as it barreled left to keep from losing her balance, then left as it raced right, tightening her legs not to urge him on, although it served to, but to keep her perch when he nearly succeeded in throwing her over his head with a particularly harsh buck, and she didn’t much care to be trampled, twisting his coarse mane in her fist, mouth opening in a silent laugh as he leaped up, arching his back before coming down hard, racing in a circle as she shhh-shhh-ed him, feeling the stallion slowing beneath her, tiring himself out.

Finally, he dug in his hooves and skidded to a stop, hanging his head and gasping loudly, flanks heaving and soaked with sweat, and she leaned forward to pat his neck, kissing her teeth even as she nudged him forward in a walk, wanting to make sure he wouldn’t bolt once she was off his back. One, two, three circles she walked him in, before finally swinging off his back, stumbling as overworked legs hit the ground, looking for Lem and finding him not far away and waving him over, grabbing her lasso off her hip and wrapping it around the Standardbred’s neck into a makeshift sort of bridle.

“Th-that was incredible!” Lem gasped, out of breath as if he was the one who had broken the horse, and she grinned. She patted the buckskin on his sweaty neck, and presented his lead to the man, who stared at it as though he’d never seen a rope before. When he didn’t reach to take it, she waggled it, like she would a bone for Trigger, the dog she kept back at camp, and he looked from her, to the lead, to the horse, dawning realization crawling across his face in an almost comical way. “Is… is he for me?”

‘Well hallelujah.’ she nodded in a very exaggerated way, and shoved his lead into Lem’s hand, stepping back so that he either had to grab the lead or risk the buckskin being able to run off. He stared at it, then “I… I, thank you!” and giving her a beaming grin, leaning forward to pat him on the neck.

She shrugged, ‘It weren’t no thing,’ he needed a horse if he needed to be doing work, and she wouldn’t always be around to lend him Scheherazade or Douban, it had been nearly a year since they’d re-established Maggie’s moonshine business and he needed to start doing deliveries too, and to do that he needed a horse of his own. So why not? It was Christmas, after all, or at least the day before.

Evan whistled sharply, Sinbad trotting over with a nicker, while the stallion snorted, pricking his ears. After a moment, though, he decided the gelding was no danger, instead returning to eyeing her and Lem, prancing in place uneasily as she swung up into the Thoroughbred’s saddle, Lem doing the same and having to cling on as the Saddlebred crowhopped, swinging him around in circles until he obeyed. His eyes widened, and he hurried to pass her her hat, “I grabbed this for ya, it fell off,” and she looked at it, patting her dark hair and shaking her head when she found it bare, slapping the hat back on where it belonged.

To the man’s confusion, though, she didn’t turn them back towards the shack, but nudged Sinbad into a walk in the opposite direction. “Wait, where’re we goin’?” and she made a motion as though eating something small, and then—“Strawberry? What’re we goin’ there for?”

She looked at him as though she thought him some great fool, then pulled out her wallet from inside of her jacket, tapped her chest, pointed at him, then patted Sinbad’s saddle. It took him a long moment to connect the gestures, and then his eyebrows vanished into his hairline as he shook his head, “No, no! I can’t let you do that!” Tack, even the cheapest tack, would be ridiculously expensive, he couldn’t let her buy it for him.

The look Evan gave him, he was sure, was one many of her bounty targets had seen before she’d taken them down and they’d found themselves at a hanging tree, and was the look many men saw in their last moments. It was a look of ‘don’t try me’ and ‘I dare you to try me’ and he froze, nearly being thrown off as the Saddlebred surely felt his hesitation and tried his luck, only Evan grabbing the horse’s rope keeping him from ending up in the larkspurs. She pulled out her pocket watch, made a gesture with it as though passing a great deal of time, then pointed her finger at the sun and gestured as though making it set then rise again.

“I-thank you.” he finally acquiesced, and her grin was well worth it.

“Merry Christmas to you too.”

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