#dressage au

[milkgoblinart]

Dressage rhaenicent au by @fshfish

This has been stuck in my head for WEEKS. Basically both competed, alicent quit, rhaenyra won first place for olympics (??) and then cried on podium.

[cuubism]

as a certified horse obsessed freak i'm obliged to have an equestrian au so here's an equestrian au. make it olympics flavored for relevance. but there will be no sex in hay!! EVER!!!

it is smutty though.

--

Dream Endleas’s reputation for being difficult preceded him. His critical eye, his adherence to perfection, his crisp turnout and refusal to ever appear the slightest bit disheveled even after competing in the summer heat; his family, his money, his luxury-brand sponsorships—Hob had seen enough videos of Dream’s Grand Prix tests to be prepared for all of it. But he wasn’t prepared for the force of seeing it in person.

Dream in person was somehow even more perfect and posh than he appeared on video. Hob hadn’t actually spoken to him yet, had only communicated through his groom, Matthew, while getting the horses settled in—but God, he looked like such a prat. He looked like the type of snotty kid Hob had seen around the yard growing up, the type who thought they could ride because their parents had bought them a fifty-thousand pound pony. The type that persisted into adulthood, rolling up in a Range Rover to get on an already tacked horse, later handing their fancy horse back to the groom before stalking back out of the stable in pristine white breeches, leaving all the care to others.

Hob might have had a bit of a chip on his shoulder about that sort of thing.

It would have been easy to hate Dream, except that, fancy horse or not, he actually could ride, exceedingly well at that, and—and Hob was feeling very betrayed by his dick on this one—he was also blisteringly hot.

Dressage competition wear was, by and large, not one’s first choice of clothes that would be considered “sexy.” The combination of “business formal” and “cavalry officer on parade” wasn’t exactly giving come hither, but Hob took one look at Dream stalking down the center aisle of the barn in his clean white breeches and his high boots and his black coat with its little fucking Union Jack embroidery and he wanted. It was a good thing thoughts were an internal situation because it was embarrassing how quickly he went to I want those skinny little thighs wrapped around my head. Mortifying, really.

He was thinking about it so hard he didn’t immediately realize Dream was coming for him.

“You,” Dream said, stopping before him. “You are the stable manager.”

“That’s me,” Hob agreed. Regretting it more every minute, too. Managing the horses for the Olympic team had sounded like a good gig in theory…

“Why have the horses not been turned out?” Dream demanded.

“Aren’t you competing in—” Hob checked his watch— “an hour? Why are you asking me this now?”

“Because it came to my attention that things were mismanaged,” Dream said, unrepentant, then stood, waiting for his answer.

Hob sighed. “They didn’t provide us any turnout space.”

“They did not provide—” Dream started, then stopped, apparently flummoxed. “That is unacceptable.”

Hob had to grudgingly admit that it was to his credit that he cared. Not everyone did. “Tell me about it. But if you hadn’t noticed, we’re in a several hundred year old stable and they weren’t about to revamp the entire situation for us.”

“As per usual, horse welfare comes last,” Dream said, narrowing his eyes. Jesus Christ, Hob thought, he’s wearing eyeliner. “Be advised that I will be paying close attention going forward—” he looked at Hob’s name badge— “Hob Gadling.”

And with that ominous statement, he turned and stalked off.

“Good luck with your test,” Hob offered, half-heartedly, to Dream’s retreating back. Then, to himself, “Really? That prick’s the one you want?”

He could hardly be angry with Dream for being upset about it, though. Hob certainly had a bone to pick with the organizers about the horses being stalled 24/7. But he doubted that the people who managed The Palace of Versailles gave a fuck what he thought.

It did mean less for Hob to do, though. So once he’d done another round of their team’s wing of the stables he headed out to the arena to watch Dream’s test. There was no way Hob was going to miss watching him ride after a performance like that. If you were going to live up to your reputation of being rude and difficult you had damn well better live up to your reputation for skill as well.

Unfortunately for Hob, Dream did in fact live up to that reputation. He and Jessamy were gorgeous together. She was a smaller and lighter horse than many of the others and seemed to practically float across the ring. Dream made it look so easy when Hob knew damn well it was not. Hob could have watched him for hours, though of course the test was only a few minutes long.

In addition to watching Dream’s test, he was keeping an eye on the horses going in and out of the stable, keeping up to date on any injuries or soreness, though each had its own groom who was responsible for the horse’s immediate care. At the conclusion of Dream’s test, Hob expected him to hand Jessamy off to Matthew, but instead Dream just dropped his stirrups, letting Jessamy steer on a long rein as he wandered off towards the grassy area past the border of the dressage arena.

“Oi!” Hob called, catching up to him. “Where are you going?”

“I am going for a hack,” Dream said, hardly sparing him a passing glance.

Hob followed the direction he was headed. “On the cross-country course?”

“They aren’t using it,” Dream said, uncaring. “We”—presumably he meant himself and the horse—“are sick of being in the stable.”

So saying, he started off again, Jessamy’s ears pricked forward in interest as she picked her way across the grass.

Hob doubted he could stop him. And he had to admit it was probably more entertaining for the horse to go for a walk than to sit in her stall. It seemed a strange thing for Dream to do, though, wander off across the grass, legs swinging free out of the stirrups, instead of maintaining a strict training regimen in the arena.

Dream stopped before he was too far away, turning over his shoulder to call out: “I will be back before the final test is complete. If scheduling concerns you.”

So there was some recognition of the fact that it would be Hob’s neck if the horses weren’t where they were supposed to be when they were supposed to be. “Don’t worry about it,” he said, waving a hand. “Though given your score, I’d imagine you want to be back before they announce the medals.”

He got a half-smile from Dream for this, and then he was wandering off again, sitting comfortably in the saddle with the reins long, Jessamy’s tail swishing away the summer flies.

Hob watched his retreating back for a long moment, then turned back to the ring to keep an eye on the rest of the horses.

As Hob had predicted, Dream did win gold. He showed up just in time for it, finally giving Jessamy back to Matthew to take inside. She’d picked up some grass stains on her white socks, though Dream’s clothes were as pristine as ever. He seemed immune to dishevelment. He accepted his medal with predictable stoicism and bore the obligatory photos with grace and poise but what seemed to Hob like resignation rather than enjoyment of the attention.

Hob didn’t see where he ended up next. He had horses to feed and water and tack to be sure was in order for tomorrow’s events. In fact, he doubted he’d see Dream again at all. It should have been a good thing, for all Dream was a source of frustration for him. Instead, he found himself feeling disappointed. 

Hob was always the last one in the barn at night. Partly out of obsessiveness, partly due to the fact that unlike the riders, his lodgings were actually on the stable grounds. So he did his final round looking in on the horses at around 9 p.m. Not that there was much to do—check water, throw a little hay, make sure none of the horses had managed to keel over in the last two hours since he’d seen them—but it was a soothing ritual, making sure everything was shut up tight before going to bed himself.

Or it would have been soothing, if there wasn’t somebody else there.

The distant sound of a stall door sliding open had Hob immediately on edge. No one else had cause to be here this late, and at such a high profile event, he couldn’t rule out the possibility of ill intentions—or just of a horse getting out past an improperly latched door. He walked quickly towards that wing of the stable, though there had been no more sounds since—

Oh. It was Jessamy’s stall. Hopefully that meant it was Dream, or at least Matthew, because otherwise Dream would be royally fucking pissed.

Hob peered around the door where it was cracked open. And then just stood there, frozen, because it was Dream, crouched down in the shavings cleaning the grass stains from Jessamy’s leg—but not Dream like Hob had ever seen him.

For one, he was wearing shorts. Actual jean shorts that fell to mid-thigh, legs bare down to his paddock boots. Legs which were just as wiry and pale as Hob had imagined under his breeches, but covered in dust, with a streak of mud across one knee and a small bruise on the other thigh of the type you inevitably get when you spend enough time in the barn. Instead of his crisp white shirt and black jacket of earlier, he was wearing a loose black t-shirt spotted with water across the chest—watching the way Jessamy was sloshing about in her water bucket, now full of hydrating additives, Hob could just about guess how that had occurred. Dream even had a piece of hay stuck in his hair.

It was all so shocking Hob didn’t realize Dream was calling his name until he’d said it a second time.

“Hob Gadling. Do you require something, or can I be left in peace for the first time today?”

“You’re wearing shorts,” Hob said, dumbfounded.

Dream raised an eyebrow. “It is very hot out, if you hadn’t noticed.”

“I just— I can’t imagine you in shorts.” Or covered in dirt, for that matter. Dream was so pristine, so refined. Except for now, when he was at least fifty percent dust.

“Do you imagine me frequently?” Dream asked, and Hob was grateful that the low lighting disguised the way his cheeks flushed.

“No, I—” he did, though. He’d imagined Dream constantly since first seeing him. Since first learning they’d be crossing paths at the Olympics, really. “Maybe.”

Dream smirked, and stood, stepping out of the stall and perching instead on his tack trunk in the aisle, latching the door behind him. “What about me makes you think I do not own shorts?”

Hob was definitely blushing now. “You just. Always look so put together. And now you’re…” he gestured to the various bits of grime sticking to Dream.

“Of course I am put together at a show, Hob,” Dream said, rolling his eyes. “You could hardly expect me to show up to the Olympic final with mud smeared across my face.”

This was a good point, actually.

“I did not intend to be seen like this at all,” Dream added, giving him a pointed look.

Hob found it charming, though. The fact that Dream’s relative familiarity in being sticky with sweat and hay dust meant he did at least some of his own horse care regularly. The fact he didn’t just show up to get on and off.

“Why are you here so late?” Hob asked, glancing over at Jessamy. “I think she’ll survive with some grass stains until tomorrow. You’re done competing anyway.”

Dream’s brow pinched. “The amount of socializing at this event is stressful. And there is no reprieve in my rooms.”

This made Hob grin. “Not having fun in the Olympic Village?”

Dream wrinkled his nose. “I do not like having a roommate,” he said, and Hob had to laugh at the disgust in his tone. “I considered booking my own hotel room, but was informed this was not demonstrative of team spirit.”

“Oh no, you had to be part of a team at a team event, that’s terrible,” Hob said, still grinning. “Poor Dream.”

Dream’s lips twitched into a half-smile, but it did reach his eyes, Hob saw it. “Terrible,” he agreed. “Hence, I am hiding in the barn.”

“And you wanted to check on your horse,” Hob guessed, softening. He had finally reached the conclusion that he had been wrong about the type of horseman Dream was likely to be. And shouldn’t have assumed it in the first place.

“I worry about them overheating,” Dream said. “This barn has poor airflow.”

“You’ve got better at your place back home?”

“My horses live outside,” Dream said.

Hob had really been wrong about the type of horseman Dream was.

“Now you will tell me they will break themselves in the field,” Dream sighed, apparently well-used to the argument.

“Nope,” said Hob. “So do mine.”

Then, Dream looked at him in surprise and, if Hob wasn’t mistaken, a new hint of grudging respect.

“Mine aren’t as expensive as yours, of course,” Hob teased. He could only guess at the price tag on Dream’s Grand Prix dressage horses.

“They are insured,” Dream said, dismissively. “I care little for how much they cost me. They are happier out of their stalls.”

Hob smiled, and felt the softness of it on his own face. Goddammit. Now he wasn’t only finding Dream hot, which he could maybe have coped with, but going soft on him, too. “I really am sorry about the turnout situation here. There’s just not much we can do about it. I did ask.”

“It’s no matter.” He’d apparently decided to give up on his annoyance with Hob about it. “I may bring her home early. Though I doubt they will let me leave until the end.”

“No one’s ever been less excited to be at the Olympics than you, Dream,” Hob said, laughing, and Dream cracked another smile. He was very pretty when he smiled. He was pretty when he was stern and focused, too. Really, all of him was doing it for Hob.

“I am not very good at dealing with people,” Dream admitted.

Hob felt abruptly bad for him and the reputation he’d developed. Not that Dream hadn’t done anything to justify it. But it couldn’t make it any easier to make friends. He looked so much smaller, too, sitting on the tack trunk in his shorts and t-shirt, covered in dust and hay. Far from the stern and unapproachable Dream Hob had seen earlier.

“Come take a walk with me,” he suggested. “We’ll finish checking in on the horses and then, I don’t know. Get a drink or something.”

It felt too bold a suggestion as soon as Hob suggested it, but Dream sighed and stood, dusting off his shorts. “I suppose I should try not to sequester myself.”

“That’s the enthusiasm I like to see,” Hob said, and got another smile out of Dream. He was quickly becoming addicted to getting those smiles.

Dream followed as Hob checked in on the remaining horses, helping him top off waters and throw hay. By the end Hob was just as covered in dust as Dream, t-shirt drenched in sweat, and had tied up his hair in a bun to get it off the back of his neck, not that it helped much. Dream had been right, the barn was poorly ventilated, and they were both suffering the results of that.

When he turned from tying up his hair, he found Dream watching him, gaze tracking the movement of Hob’s hands, the fall of his hair, then back to his face.

“What?” Hob asked.

“I—” Dream swallowed, throat catching. “Was I. Wrong. To think I caught you looking before?”

Somehow Hob knew exactly what he meant. He probably should have felt embarrassed about it—but it was hard to when Dream was looking at him like that now. Dust sticking to his hair, sweat gleaming along his neck, and he was looking at Hob like he’d suddenly found something very compelling to cut through the weariness of the day.

“No,” Hob said. “Did it bother you?”

Dream shook his head. “No one looks at me like that.”

“Seriously? But you’re gorgeous.”

Dream’s mouth popped open, and even in the semi-dark Hob thought he saw his eyes dilate. “Am I?”

“Maybe they’re all just too intimidated by you to show it,” Hob said, taking a step closer to him.

“And are you?” Dream asked. “Am I so terrifying?”

“I think I can handle it,” Hob said, and closed the remaining distance between them, sparing one moment to think I can’t believe I’m fucking doing this before he took Dream’s face between his hands and kissed him.

Dream whimpered into the kiss, clutching at Hob’s wrists. He opened his mouth to Hob, head tipping back. Dream had such a strong presence that Hob hadn’t realized there was a slight height difference between them, but he took full advantage of it now, pressing him back, letting go of his face to catch him around the waist.

Dream pulled away long enough to take a breath, then dove back immediately into the kiss, sucking on Hob’s lower lip, digging his fingers into Hob’s hair. Hob steered him back, half-blind for kissing, until they stumbled into one of the empty stalls being used to store extra tack, where he pushed Dream down to sit on one of the tack trunks.

Dream’s breath caught, his pulse hammering where Hob set his lips and teeth to it, sucking a mark into his throat on his way to kneeling between Dream’s spread thighs. “I was thinking about you as well,” Dream admitted, once Hob had detached from his neck and dropped fully to kneel on the floor, grinding dirt into his knees. “Seeing you. Carrying bags of feed over your shoulder like they weighed nothing. Mmm. Your shoulders.”

“Oh, yeah?” That was heady to think about, Dream watching him like that. Hob undid the button on his shorts, skimming them and his underwear down and off over his paddock boots. This revealed Dream’s pretty pink cock, already plumping up as he leaned back on his hands on the tack trunk. Hob nosed at the base, taking in the sweat and musk of him, hearing Dream’s breath hitch. “You know what I was thinking about?”

“What?”

“Doing this.” Hob took the head of Dream’s cock in his mouth, pulling a wrenching cry from Dream as he twitched where he sat, thighs trembling. Hob bobbed his head, sucked up the length of him, pulling off with a pop and saying, “This is exactly where I wanted you.”

“Indeed?” The word was shaky. Dream’s fingers twitched on the wood of the trunk.

“Go on,” Hob told him, and Dream’s hands went to his hair, pulling it from its bun, directing Hob back down onto his cock. Hob took him deep, pressing his nose into the hair at the base of Dream’s pelvis. The weight of Dream in his mouth was addicting, and then Dream’s legs shifted and he tucked them up and over Hob’s shoulders, thighs pressing in against his head—yes, perfect.

Dream pulled him close, thrust his hips up into Hob’s mouth, hesitant at first then bolder when Hob hummed in encouragement. Dream’s fingers combed through his hair, not quite pulling but tugging and tangling in little pinpricks of delicious pain, and Hob closed his eyes, surrendering to the experience of satisfying him, so hard in his own jeans but ignoring it for now—it only made everything feel more vivid, anyway.

“Hob,” Dream cried, cock twitching, pre-come spilling over Hob’s tongue. Hob didn't let up, only took him deeper, Dream bumping against the back of his throat as he swallowed.

Dream cried out as he came, hands clenching to the point of pain in Hob’s hair, legs tightening around Hob’s head. Hob nearly came himself at the feeling. Instead he swallowed again, sucking on Dream’s cock as it softened until Dream whimpered from overstimulation, and then Hob carefully let him go, finally able to take a full breath as Dream curled around his head, thighs trembling against Hob’s cheeks.

Hob turned his head to kiss his thigh, grazing his teeth over the small bruise he’d seen earlier, making Dream gasp. He uncurled himself from Hob, letting go of his death grip on Hob’s hair to instead caress his cheeks, run his thumb over Hob’s wet lower lip. Hob looked up, met his gaze, nearly perished at the look of blown-out pleasure there. He could live on that look, he thought, feed himself on it every day.

“Come here,” Dream ordered. Hob was helpless but to obey. He let Dream draw him up, disentangle them so Dream’s legs were around his waist instead of over his shoulders, and Dream plucked open the button on Hob’s jeans, pushed his underwear down far enough to take him out. Dream took him in hand, humming in appreciation.

“Like what you see?” Hob teased, but it came out far breathier than he intended, all of him going taut with Dream's hand on him. Dream only smiled slowly, stroking Hob, slow but firm.

“I do,” he said, and drew Hob in with his other hand wrapped around the back of Hob’s neck, sticking in the new sweat that had beaded along his skin, letting Hob rut into his fist. Hob kissed up the side of his neck, leaving marks, breath catching when Dream hooked a leg around the back of his thigh to pull him even closer.

“So perfect for me,” Dream praised, hand sliding up to curl in his hair while his other kept expertly working Hob’s cock. “Mmm. Later, I want you to fuck me properly. I want that gorgeous cock inside me. I know you will fill me so well. I want to feel you.”

All it really took was Dream’s sweet words to send Hob’s arousal boiling over. He gasped into Dream’s throat as he came, hips stuttering into Dream’s fist. Dream pet his hair as he came down from the high, wiping his hand off on his shirt. Hob kissed the side of his neck once more for good measure, tasting the sweat there, before finally pulling away.

“You really want me to fuck you?” he asked. “You going to—”

Dream laid a finger over his lips. “If you make a joke about me riding you I will walk out of this stable and never return.”

Hob broke down laughing, pressing his forehead against Dream’s shoulder. “You get that one a lot?”

“Constantly.”

“I’ll bet.”

Dream was chuckling, too, chest rumbling against Hob’s body. Hob liked the sound of it.

“Cross my heart, I swear I won’t make any jokes,” Hob promised.

He liked this. Leaning against Dream. Touching him. Sharing a soft moment. He liked it a lot.

Dream tipped his face back up with a fingertip under his chin. “I do still want you to fuck me,” he said, watching Hob with dark eyes. Hob swallowed hard. “Will you take me back to your rooms? For we are certainly not going back to mine.”

“Don’t want to involve your roommate?” Hob teased, and Dream sighed.

“Don’t make fun of my indignities,” he complained, and Hob laughed.

“I’m sorry, darling. You suffer so much. Your life is terribly difficult.”

“And you are making it worse by making me wait,” Dream complained.

Hob certainly didn’t want that. So he stood, tucking himself away again, and rearranged Dream in his shorts, helping him up. He paused then, wondering just how far this burgeoning thing between them went, before deciding, fuck it, and pulled Dream in for a soft kiss, hands light on his lower back. Hob was feeling very fond of him right then. He might as well show it.

Dream hummed into the kiss, sinking into him. When they separated, his lips curved into a soft smile.

“Perhaps you might make me breakfast in the morning, too,” he said, taking Hob’s hand.

“If you’re willing to wake up at six,” Hob said. “Because that’s when the horses get breakfast.”

Dream groaned dramatically, but didn’t let go of Hob’s hand, and as Hob tugged him out past the stall door and towards his lodgings at the far end of the stable, he was smiling, eyes bright. And Hob thought waking up to him before sunrise might be very beautiful indeed.

[poorly-drawn-mdzs]

MDZS Equineswap AU part 1: Bro we are horses. It’s okay to cry around me, we are best friends. Bro we are kissing.

[girl side of the swap]

[chaserofstars11]

pick a name for regulus’ horse in my fic descriptions under cut

[7thchevronlocked]

Jacaerys Targaryen-Strong & Vermax

Part 1 | Part 2 (Cregan)

A companion moodboard for my fic all of our book's pages dog eared, the equestrian!jace and farrier!cregan jacegan au that literally nobody asked for.

[hcdragonwrites]

Love of a Mountain

(Part two to @journey-to-the-au Banquet Fic)

Here is part two to Banquet! I hope you enjoy !

Willow walked out of her room sometime later, having divested herself of the Heavenly court garments. Instead she was back in her simple gowns and letting her hair fall free the way she liked. If Wukong insists upon a feast then it’s best not to get the garments Heaven-approved-of messy.

Feasts were never the same thing twice here on Flower Fruit Mountain. Each one was as different as a sunset- a thing to be experienced and enjoyed. Heaven's orderly festivals and banquets were usually repetitive and ended the same. No two feasts upon the mountain could ever be compared or summed up as the same.

Rin Rin was coming just from around the corner as Willow closed her door. Though she and Wukong were married- they still enjoyed having a room to run back to and sequester themselves in. They had a shared room- one that linked the two seperate ones together. They used this only when the two desired affection and connection. Or when one or both was having a day of it. For Wukong this would be phantom pains from the circlet he had worn across his brow, or nightmares from his time within the vats being boiled alive. For Willow, this would be memories of the imposter, or nightmares of glowing eyes in the dark asking her how sweet she would taste.

Just a Kiss Willow dear~

Willow shook her head, chasing the cobwebs from her mind. Rin Rin came with a smile and wave. The little gray monkey had a fresh flower behind her ear and her fur was all a sparkle beneath her ochre robes. Willow bent to greet her friend in a warm hug as she collided.

“Willow! I’ve come to collect you.” Rin Rin said. Willow sighed.

“Truly all this fuss and bother for a bit of a missed meal.” Willow grumbled back. “I told Wukong it would be fine, but he insisted on waking everyone for a feast.”

Rin Rin smiled as she stepped back, taking Willow's hand and rushing her along the corridor. Even from way back here, she could make out the gaiety and laughter spilling from the great dining hall beyond. Music was being struck up and Willow couldn’t help but hum a bit of the tune. The folk songs of Flower Fruit Mountain usually were rhymes or twisting trickster tales and harrowing pranks that brought glory. The tune now was a song written for Courage, of her triumph over a tiger and how her trade for her life was her voice.

“Well I heard that Heavenly feasts can’t compare to our own!” Rin Rin touched her flower with her free hand, adjusting it. “Besides, Wukong has some entertainment planned!”

Willow couldn’t help feeling a little bit excited for that. Wukong loved to act out and depict his tales and songs and many deeds with improvisation and magic. He would change shape as swiftly as a wind shifted direction, catching all the crowd up in his story weaving. Her dear friend had many stories to tell and a delightful way to show the little ones of the troupe all the stories he delivered on.

“He didn’t have to wake up the whole mountain.” Willow protested but her protests were getting weaker of conviction the closer they got to the hall. Delicious smells set her stomach to rumbling and Rin Rin grinned. The small monkey knew her friend was losing the battle to protest. She simply pulled her along faster, eager herself to join in the merry making.

“We like parties, Willow.” Rin Rin put simply. The monkeys of Flower Fruit Mountain adored parties. Festivals were favorites. Banquets were boastful. Special occasions were sublime. Any excuse to have a good time and to enjoy themselves was enough. And Rin Rin loved showing off her outfits to Liu, her husband. “Wukong seems more excited than he usually is coming back from the Palace.”

That was true. Usually when they came back from such an excursion to the Heavenly Palace he was tired, fed up with celestial interactions. The human behaviours threw him even now because some celestials would act more human and then those few that came from origins on the mortal world would act more animalistic but look the most human of all. It was always a balancing game of how to interact with who and it was something Wukong could never truly get the hang of.

Willow helped where she could but Wukong preferred to, as he liked to say, ‘Shove himself into a live volcano then try and talk to another official celestial body’. Her handsome monkey tried so hard and usually by the end of a night, was beyond tired and grumpy. Especially if that night was like this one. Hearing Wukong was in good spirits had her thinking.

“What is he trying to pull?” She said aloud.

“Whatever it is, it's for you and you have to be in your spot!” Rin Rin chuckled.

They came around the bend of a stalagmites and out into the great cavern that held the dining area. The stone tables and stools were filled with row upon row of monkeys, of every shade and color imaginable. A living rainbow of fur and silk, the Flower Fruit Mountain troupe were in full jovial mood. Willow caught sight of the overflowing dishes- so quickly prepared!- lining the tables in great silver platters. Fruit cobblers, sweet breads drizzled in glazes of sugar, pies stuffed with almonds and oats, great heaps of fruits of all kinds littered the table. Coconut toddy was passed around in great glass jugs between neighbors on benches. Willow saw shellfish poached and buttered, swaths of tofu fried or grilled in a number of sauces passed from table to table. The comradery, the welcome air, was like snuggling into a warm blanket on a cold night.

Rin Rin led the way to the highest table, one exclusively left for Wukongs closest family and his most trusted advisors. They passed the theater floor, which had been cleared of stools and tables. There would be an event of some kind then.

Great swaths of coconut flesh were shining like white snow upon nearby tables and one of the littlest babes held it out to Willow as they passed.

“Granma Willow! Granma Willow!” The little babe spoke up, holding the coconut flake out. “Try try! I got it myself”

“All by yourself?” Willow remembered the name of this little tuft of fluff. He had been named for the pink of his eyes, and for the rare seasoning brought down upon the world from mountain heights. “Salt thats quite a feat!” She took the coconut from Salts little paw and popped it into her mouth.

“Mmm! Delicious!” And the little babe beamed, flapping his hands excitedly. This started up a small baby monkey storm as the littles, hearing that Grandmother Willow was trying and tasting food, came running. It was like a small tidal wave that Rin Rin got swept up in as well.

“Try my apple!” A brown furred little named Braken chirped, presenting a slice of a ruby red apple to Willow. Before Willow could respond, another little monkey climbed her dress, determination across his very tight little face.

“No no!” Storm challenged. “I made my berries into a jam! Just like you showed me!” He held the tiny little jar in one tiny fist. He was yanked down by another baby, a bit bigger female of the group.

“Grandma Willow would prefer my bread!” Scarlet said.

“Well I made yogurt! With bananas !” Another baby called from the top of Rin Rins head, and suddenly Willow couldn’t keep track of the babies who started to bicker.

“That’s nothing- I MADE THE BEST THING!”

“NO I DID.”

“NO ME!”

Rin Rin popped up from beneath a group trying to climb her, laughing and trying to be serious to reprimand the over eager children in their quest to impress the grandmother of the mountain. Willow herself was laughing too hard as she tried and failed to take a taste of all the treats the babies held out to her. Being bombarded in such a way with so much love was a bit overwhelming but also such a warm and buttery feeling.

It’s nice to feel and see so much love. To be wanted and loved in such a way.

“You littles better get back in your places right now!” The voice of her friend called from beyond Willows sight.

“GRANDPA WUKONG!!” And the small tidal wave of littles swamped the Monkey King. He used his magic, growing larger to collect them all in his arms and swing them about.

“Oh my treasures! How are each of you darling gems! You listening to your mothers? Minding your fathers?” A chorus of yes! Came from the clinging little children, laughing as their grandpa swung them about and placed them back at each table with their parents. “Remember! We can’t swamp Grandma Willow! She may get overwhelmed ok?”

“Yes grandpa!”

“Good little treasures!” He said to them in approval. Once all the babies were back with their parents at their respective tables, Wukong held out his hand to Willow. She took it, Rin Rin holding the other as her two friends pulled her up from the floor and to the table.

“I love them all so much.” Willow thought aloud, as she watched the eager and open love from some of the children and their family’s. She would do anything for these tiny gems that shone with such brightness.

“They almost drowned you in that love.” Rin Rin remarked, straightening her fur and having it lie back in place. “They almost drowned me as well-to get at you- the cheeky lemmings.” This last part was said with such soft love that it took all the teeth out of the remark.

“It would have been a good death.” Willow replied.

“Death by smothering?” Wukong snorted. He nodded to his mothers who greeted him, Willow and Rin Rin in return. Wukong led Rin Rin to her seat beside Marshal Liu who was dressed in his finest armor. His soft cream colored fur looked extra well brushed and presentable. Liu smiled to Willow, bowing his head. Rin Rin eagerly went to her seat, setting the both of them to blushing. Ma and Chestnut were seated beside them, already enjoying the sautéed mushrooms and several shellfish between them.

“Death by love is poetic. Especially when it comes from such little hands and happy hearts.” Willow's smile was warm as she spoke, her gaze sweeping the full and boisterous hall. She didn’t notice the slight sparkle that entered Wukongs eyes as he witnessed Willows face melt into one of such love and adoration.

Wukong then led Willow to her spot at the table, right beside his mothers Wisdom and Courage. To their left was Xinshu, quietly picking and dismantling some poor raspberries. Willow wondered how she was peeling them without the berries bursting. Xinshu was expertly dissecting the berries with the tips of her claws. She turned and waved a red tipped claw at Willow and, though there was no malice, there was a hint of cool challenge.

Willow wouldn’t dare comment on her sister-in-laws habit of spooking her or the others of the celestial court. It had taken a while for her and the white simian to come to a sort of trust and agreement of mutual respect. Willow knew that her little wave wasn’t meant to scare her in the fashion she had originally set about when Willow had first come to the mountain. Instead she was testing her strength, challenging Willow as if to say ‘see? Can you do that?’

Willow could not eviscerate a raspberry. She didn’t even know it was possible to do so. Beyond Xinshu sat Ba and Chestnut. It was good to keep Ma and Ba separate to prevent the start of food fights.

Though, Willow admitted, it wasn’t always bad pranks- food fighting was a new experince. It was quite humorous to join in.

Willow would never tell Ma or Ba but she did enjoy their antics to a point. They kept everyone, including herself, on their toes. But they had also taught her better pranks after she had tricked Wukong with a bucket, a door and some simple water. She recalled that memory fondly when the two standoffish monkeys suddenly approached her one day while she was out tending to the orchards.

“Listen-“ Ma said, coming out from beneath an overhanging peach tree, tail curled in a casual S shape

“We love the classic prank you pulled-“ Ba continued. He hopped down from the opposite tree, a peach in his hand. He took a bite, leaning against the bark.

“It was amazing-“ Ma said.

“Ten out of ten!” Ba Replied.

“But if you really want to get Wukong-“ Ma leaned in.

“Like TRUELY trick that old man-“ Ba continued, leaning in conspiratorial.

“Your gonna need better material!” They said together, their tails twitching in tandem.

“Fear not-“ Ba grumbled, finishing off the peach and tossing the pit.

“You're in good hands now.” Ma finished, taking Willow by the hand and leading her through the orchard to discuss further prank material.

Willow had slowly won over much of the mountain's love and adoration in just her actions and her words. She had proven to the cautious and most hesitant of Flower Fruit Mountain that she was not like other Celestials. She wasn’t like the rest of the court that had brought their wrath down upon the mountain during Wukongs younger days.

Willow was partially through a quite delectable bit of sautéed Chicken of the Woods with shallots and chopped onions when Wukong stood, tapping the side of his coconut toddy with the tip of a knife. The simple noise brought a calmer atmosphere to the hall as Wukong cleared his throat.

“My family! I called on this sudden feast to celebrate my wonderous Wife Willow!” A collective murmur of appreciation swept through the attendants.

“Oh no Wukong why…” Willow felt her face flame a bit in embarrassment. While her friend delighted in the spotlight, Willow didn’t mind watching from the sidelines. Suddenly being thrust into the whole reason for a feast made Willow groan in second hand embarrassment.

“Yes ! She defended my honor when the celestial men of the court cornered me to ask and pester questions from your good king!” Gasps. A few furious teeth barings. Xinshu sliced a little too harshly through her raspberry and sprayed red juice across the table. Wisdom rolled her eyes at her sons theatrics.

“Was it really all that bad?” Rin Rin asked, leaning into Willow.

“They did ask about our ability to reproduce -“ Willow began and Liu grumbled.

“I cannot understand the Celestials' obsession with putting their noses into others' familial relations.” The Marshal shook his head. “I am sorry you were put through that … embarrassment, my Lady. If I had been there I would have challenged his honor.” Willow smiled at him, feeling touched by his need to defend her. Marshal Liu had been one of the first to start calling her ‘My Lady’ after her incident at the river. He was always polite and professional, reminding her of the few times she had actually talked to her brothers.

“Your king was cornered,” Wukong continued, beginning to replay the events with magic. He had pulled several hairs from his coat, chewed and then created duplicates from the strands. The doubles changed themselves into leering courtly men, surrounding a very terribly distressed Wukong. “He was communicating quite clearly how he wished to be away and alone when Willow put on the best performance!”

Another double appeared a bit further down on the cleared theater space, Willow in all her courtly attire. Real Willow was pretty convinced Willow douple was glamoured just a bit much. Her hair shone like a ravens wing and her face almost gave off sparkle as it turned. The real Wukong stood back narrating, pointing out each scene as it happened.

Willow felt her face flame a bit more.

“She swooned and put on a spectacular show of it, asking her husband to rescue her from the stifling court air.” Here the Douple Willow fell over in a dramatic recreation. Douple Wukong rushed forward, catching the fainting Willow.

“ And I, the magnificent King that I am, decided that enough was enough and brought her back to our wondrous mountain home.”

Wukong dismissed his copies and turned, to fix his eyes upon Willow. He smiled, and it was a fun and gentle one, full of teasing and love and such open warmth that it could rival the sun.

“Truly she saved us from a bland night of watching the controlled dances of horses and court gossip.”

Ma and Ba were both roaring and cheering with a large majority of the monkeys now. Willow blushed harder and kissed Wukongs forehead. “I can’t believe you.”

“That’s a good rebuff … right?”

“I am going to play the largest prank on you when you least expect it !” Willow smiled. She knew he did this out of love. And out of a need to tease and praise her. But she wanted to tease him back.

Wukong returned the kiss, placing one right on the tip of her nose. “I look forward to your pranks and will return them in kind.” And he snuck a cheeky tug to her hair in play.

As they pulled apart and settled into their meal again, Willow slowly became aware that there was a murmur going about the tables. A muttering and grumbling that started low and finally crested as some of the troupe of monkeys asked louder.

“Dancing horses? What -“

“They have dancing horses?”

Wukong heard the mutterings and rose once again from his seat.

“Oh yes and they danced with such boring restraint! I’ll show you how a real horse should dance!” Before anyone could tell Wukong no, he had somersaulted back into the cleared theatre space and shapeshifted. An adorable short chestnut stallion stood on the theater floor, his facial markings becoming a white banded blaze across his face. The dining hall whooped and cheered as Wukong began to go through the paces. The horse sidestepped and spun, reared and tossed his head. Then he did things that no horse would ever attempt or try. He stood up and walked several paces, trying to imitate several courtiers in the palace. Wukong balanced on one leg, hopping from table to table and alternating. The hall was a frenzy of calling and cries of laughter as the horse became more ridiculous with each iteration of his ‘dance’.

After landing on his front hooves and balancing a goblet on his back hooves, Wukong paused to allow the hall to cheer and to settle. Then the horse turned his face back to the table, to Willow.

“Of course Heavens horses did not dance alone.” He proclaimed. He bowed in horse fashion, neck pulling in as a foreleg extended outward and downward. “Will you join me Willow?”

An abrupt silence as the monkeys in the hall heard this. Then like a bubbling brook they began to babble and chatter.

“Join him Willow!”

“Show us what you can do!”

“Can a celestial keep pace with him?” Xinshu spoke up, raising a brow in playful challenge at her sister-in-law. “My brother does shape change swiftly.”

Willow, stood and walked to the theater floor. When she had first shown Wukong that she too could change shape, it had been from a deep place of trust. To celestials, changing shape like this was seen almost as taboo. Why would one born of Heavens Grace wish to besmirch that gift? Willow had been taught the ways as any young princess would, and told to use them only in dire circumstances.

That resolve had only begun to deteriorate when coming to Flower Fruit Mountain and seeing her friend somersault into bears and birds with a blink of an eye. Shape changing was not meant to show off or be boastful- but Wukong didn’t do it to rub it in others faces. He did it to entertain, to bring joy and laughter to his home and his people. Willow, after years and years of holding to her understanding, had decided to surprise him. They had been sitting on Willows favorite cliff, the one Wukong had brought her to to first experience a sunshower.

She had been filled with liquid joy- they had spent the day with a group of littles teaching them what could be approached and what to be avoided. Of course that meant Wukong had shapeshifted to be the physical representation of each animal that Willow would describe as either dangerous or neutral. Seeing him effortlessly entertain the littles and the smiles it brought the babies, had finally turned what resolve she had left to dust.

Heaven would never see her do what she was about to do- so why should she hold back?

“Wukong.”

“Mm? What is it Willow?”

“Look” She moved her hands back, pushing them over her face and felt the change take shape. It was a fizzing sensation not that strange from tickling. It had her smiling when she had completed the shift, now just as tall as Wukong. She had turned into a monkey.

Wukongs eyes had become large as saucers, the pupils blown out as he watched her. She had cute little paws, a sparkling face and adorable tail.

He took a deep breath and politely accused “First off. Wow. Secondly. Why are you so cute ? Like, that’s not fair.”

They had spent that day testing who was cuter and who had the better form. It had melted the last of Willows worries about the taboo of shape changing. On earth there were rules that didn’t need to be adhered to as in Heaven. Restraining the joy of being able to be you was one of those rules that got thrown completely clear of the mountain.

It was a slow process to fully get Willow to relax into shape changing for fun but it didn’t take long. As the celestial walked onto the theater stage she felt the fizz and bubble.it rippled across her skin. One step she was Earth Reaching Willow, eldest celestial daughter to Heaven. The next step she was a bay mare, hooves sticking the stone as she pranced up to Wukong.

The hall went wild with cheers and clapping. Willow could hear Ma and Ba calling out from behind.

“Why she is more stunning than our cousin!”

“Bet she could put you through the ringer Wukong!”

Wukong heard this and tossed his head, nostrils flaring. Dancing was gone from his mind as he turned to stare out into the crowd.

“Do we want to put that to a vote? Who here thinks I have the best transformations?”

A roar crashed down upon Willows ears.

“And who here believes Willow to be the better shifter?”

Surprisingly a good half of the room still shouted their support, Rin Rin the loudest with a “Kick his butt Willow!”

Willow stepped up to Wukong, nuzzling him in horse fashion and chewing a bit of his mane. The stallion, shorter than she, stuck his head beneath her neck and wickered affectionately.

“You’ve decided to make a game of this?” Willow snorted in laughter. Wukong could make a competition and game from anything mundane. If it was laundry it would be a race. If it was baking it would be a contest. Shape Changing would be no different now that he had discovered and helped build up Willows courage to do it.

“Heavens fun is boring compared to ours.” Wukong wuffed. He pulled back, flagging his tail and taking a few strides in a trot. The crowd of monkeys whistled. “I think I’ll be the favorite shape changer.”

“Oh really?” Willow decided to give as good as she got. She tossed her head sending the cascade of black mane across her neck. Willow strutted, performing a perfect Piaffe, giving the illusion of galloping in place. The monkeys were a great audience to perform too- they were enjoying this and eating it up like sweet fruits- crying out to each of them in turn.

“I am the favorite after all.” Wukong countered. Then she watched as he changed shape. One step he was a chestnut stallion, proud head and tail flagging. In the next he had stepped into a wolf, red brindled fur shining.

“Only because you are a king!” Willow called. She decided to leap over the wolf that was Wukong and change mid air, becoming a jet black she wolf on the landing. The crowd applauded. They circled each other, tails wagging in play.

“Are you saying my monkeys would be biased to me?” Wukong woofed, tongue lolling in a smile. He chased his tail, earning some giggles from the littles as shifted again into a red buck. He tossed his head, displaying the twelve pointed tines like a crown on his head. “They would never favor me unfairly over you.”

“Is that so?” Willow teased. She slid beneath his neck, stepping into the next shape as a beautiful doe, eyes as black as the night. “Last I recall, I think they chose you as the winner for the pie baking contest we held- even though your pie was inedible!”

Willow nipped his ear affectionately and sprang back, hooves light as a dancer.

“It was completely edible!”

“It was undercooked and you know it!”

The two friends continued to shift from shape to shape. Wukong leading, Willow following. As they jabbed and teased, joked and called the others bluffs, they flowed through shape after shape. Like dancers they moved, becoming butterflies in one step, to crowing peacocks the next. They became so many shapes- cheetahs and foxes, phoenixes and unicorns, dragons and serpents.

Each turn of their game elicited more calls from the crowd. Applause as the pair turned into hyenas and set the room to laughing. Whoops as Wukong and Willow folded into antelope. They flowed through forms, trading jests and conversation in a playful manner. The game became less of a contest and more of a performance as each movement was either matched or complimented by the other.

Finally Wukong turned into a flaming tiger, roaring into the hall. Smaller babes squeaked in fear but most exclaimed their joy. Willow flowed seamlessly from the crane she had been before to a great white tigress, matching his roar.

Willow had forgotten the crowd almost entirely. She was laughing and so was Wukong as they came out of that final shape and back to themselves. They were both breathing hard as magic like that done so rapidly was an exercise in itself. Like any sport, magic was taxing. Wukong took his wife’s hand and they stepped to the edge of the cleared ground. They bowed in unison.

The hall erupted in joyous calls. Their names were shouted in unison, the game forgotten by the crowd themselves. The night from there on devolved into song and dance, food and good company. Sweets musical band struck up another song, a new one of tonight’s performances and the shifting grace of the mountain's two rulers. It was received with jubilant applause and calls for more and more. The wine flowed, the dancing ensued and Willow and Wukong laughed, the Polestar Palace Banquet far behind them.

It was hours later, the flow of wine leaving Willows head a bit lighter than usual. She had possibly drunk a bit too much tonight. Wukong, Rin Rin, Liu and herself were all trying to make their way back to their rooms. All four of them kept either tripping or stumbling which would elicit giggles from the others.

“What a Night..” Rin Rin hiccuped. She was spun in Lius arms in a very shoddy imitation of the dance from early.

“A night to remember~” Liu had stars within his eyes as he dipped his mate into a bow and proceeded to press as many kisses to her face. This elicited Rin Rin and Willow to laugh- Rin Rin because it set her face aflame and Willow because she loved seeing her friends be in love.

“We better give ‘em some privacy.” Wukong took Willows hand, tugging her toward their rooms. “Make sure you at least make it back to your room!”

The two love birds didnt respond as Liu began to whisper in her ear and set Rin Rin to giggling further. Wukong snagged something from inside their room - a pillow - and tossed it at Liu. It plunked against the Marshals head and he stopped his playful torture to look up.

“Make it back to your room Liu before you turn Rin into melted wax!” Wukong said. His friend gave a nod. Then he immediately swooped Rin Rin up into his arms and marched away.

“Well at least they will have some sort of privacy…” Wukong laughed, closing the door. This was their shared room- the space that the two could come together in. A great mound of bed stuffs- pillows, blankets, and soft downy furs, rose from a circular spot in the middle of the room. Willow made her way to it now, not caring to change and not worrying about the clothes she wore. They wouldn’t wrinkle terribly or dig into her skin from hidden pins or corsets.

These were her comfortable dresses made to toss and roll in. Wukong had had them made for her when she first came to Flower Fruit Mountain and had complained of her tight clothes and binding silks. Willow tumbled straight into the nest of bed stuff, grumbling and stretching happily as the soft down consumed her.

Well I’m not getting back up again.

She was beginning to fall asleep, drifting away on a warm glow when she heard the Monkey King call to her.

“Willow?”

“Mm?” She lifted her head up, fighting the sleep. A belly full of food and wine with her body tired from magic and dancing- it was a great feat for Earth Reaching Willow to make eye contact with her friend.

Wukong had slipped from his mottled and fancy clothes, wearing a plain tunic. He looked at her with his great golden eyes then looked away. He kicked an invisible bit of dust at his feet.

“Would you … mind …” Wukong began. Then trailed off. Even half asleep, even with a good bit of Coconut Toddy in her body, Willow could read that look a mile away.

“You want to cuddle don't you?” She summarized.

His eyes grew as big as saucers as he nodded, eagerly.

“Come here, my handsome Monkey.” Willow opened her arms, an open invitation to him. Wukong came barreling in, settling himself into her. Wukong burrowed a hand into her hair. Willow curled her own into his fur. Wukong tucked her head into his chest and Willow made that her pillow. His tail wound around her leg as her free hand began to scratch his back. Wukong chirped and smacked his lips, nuzzling the top of her head and eliciting laughter from her.

The warm glow wasn’t just from the wine. Nor from the warmth these two souls shared. It was a common and honest love, deeper than physical. A bond of trust and care.

“That was fun.” Wukong spoke between his happy rumbles.

“You were planning to perform like those horses huh?” Willow asked him. Her fingers began to scratch behind his ears.

“Yeah- I was gonna be the sole horse dancer.” Wukong began to run his fingers through her hair, gentle as a spring breeze. “But… I’m glad you joined in. It’s more fun when there’s a partner to play with.”

“We’re partners for life.” Willow mumbled. Her fingers were slowing as Wukong pet and tended her.

“Partners to the end.” Wukong chuckled and pressed a kiss to her brow.

“Mm love you Wukong.” Willow muttered, falling back into sleep.

“Love you too Willow..” Wukong spoke between the happy baby noises he was making.

The two fell into sleep, happy and content and the troubles of the previous Banquet already buried beneath the memories of the new one. The safest place for both Willow and Wukong was here, within the gentle embrace of each other's arms. No nightmares came for them. Only blissful sleep and warm dreams. Dreams of food and wine and shifting shapes. And of a love that was the size and greatest of Flower Fruit Mountain.

[softquietsteadylove]

Thena is at a tournament and the club decides to fly Gil there to just to keep an eye on Olympia in case she runs away again. Towards the end Thena spots him among the crowd

For the dressage one please 🖤🖤🖤🖤💖

Thena accepted the bouquet, waving to the crowd. It was just a formality, and one she did not enjoy. Winning competitions was why the club kept her, but she was never good at the publicity aspect of her job.

The pictures were being snapped loudly, camera flashes bombarding her eyes on the already blindingly sunny day. She tried not to squint though, having been told by Ajak and Sersi not to.

A hand waved at her from the crowd. It was one of many, but this one actually mattered.

Thena beamed, waving back a little more enthusiastically. She knew he would come.

Well, she hadn't exactly phrased it as a question when she had mentioned this particular tournament requiring travel. And she wanted him there to care for Olympia, since returning victors were allowed to bring in outside help for their horses.

Gil had readily agreed, even offered to pay for his flight, which she had assured him was not necessary. He was doing her a favour, and it would count as overtime for his work, too. And, perhaps, in the deepest recesses of her mind, it felt reassuring to have someone there who she actually knew.

She wouldn't say she was nervous for a competition ever, but the solitude could be stifling at times when it was just her and equestrian reporters and photographers. And they didn't even allow the horses to roam free while they were there!

"Thena, as the returning champion, what was your preparation for this tournament like?"

She did her best not to seem like she was scowling at the microphone shoved in her face. She also had to resist the urge to state that her method was the same for this tournament as all the others; train and aim to win.

"Olympia and I trained for the highest jumps possible," she answered carefully, remembering the media training she had received. "She's cared for exceedingly well at the club, so I'm lucky to have such a reliable partner when I'm out there."

Other riders never credited their horses properly, and it always pissed her off.

"The club must have top of the line care!"

She looked out at the stands again before leaning down to the microphone. "It's not the club. It's Gilgamesh--he works for the club, but he's the best at what he does, no matter where he is. He's the only one I entrust with my horse's care."

She could practically see him now, blushing and waving off her compliments with a modest smile.

Reporters scribbled down his name. Perhaps he would finally get even a shred of the recognition he deserved.

"Do you have any well wishes for your fellow competitors in other tournaments, Ikaris and Eros?"

"No." The crowd laughed, and she never knew why they did that. She wasn't joking. But it might get her out of here sooner.

"So, who's here with you today?"

She shifted the awkward bouquet in her arms again. The lights were becoming too much to bear. "No one."

"Don't you have a personal jockey to assist in tournaments?"

"No," she shook her head, starting to look around. She was hoping to get a glimpse of Gil again but there were too many cameras and microphones in the way. "I brought care of Olympia, but-"

"You registered yourself and a guest, it was assumed-"

"I think that's all the time I have," she smiled, attempting to be polite about needing out of the hornet's nest right that second. She clutched the flowers tighter. She didn't care if they got squished.

"Thena, wait!"

She left the winner's circle, attempting to navigate the flock by herself. She didn't remember the crowd for the last tournament being quite so claustrophobic.

"If you'll excuse us, Olympia needs tending to."

A firm but gentle hand reached in and pulled her out by the arm. She stumbled faintly but Gil made their way back to where Olympia was indeed waiting for them. She smiled, "you're a life saver."

"I get the feeling the media isn't really your thing," he chuckled, turning just so he could walk beside her outside the thickest part of the crowd. He even took the flowers for her, careful not to crush them (the way she had). "Congratulations, by the way."

"Thanks," she smiled, finally able to breathe easier now that she was walking with him. it almost felt like any other day when she could see him at the club. "And thank you, Gil, for being here."

"I'm happy to," he shrugged at her. "And seeing you compete was pretty impressive. I can see why they call you the Goddess of War."

Thena rolled her eyes, attempting to downplay the warmth building in her cheeks, "oh, stop. It's a silly nickname."

"It's a title," he corrected her with a chuckle. He opened the gate to Olympia's stall, letting her in first. "What do you think, girl?"

Olympia whinnied loudly, still full of adrenaline from their event. Her tail swished and flicked, although the braids in it for show were holding up well.

"Were you good for Gil?" Thena asked her trusty partner, whose nose bobbed excitedly in her hold. "I should hope so. Neither of us needs the embarrassment of you running off again."

Olympia's ear twitched. She didn't need to be reminded of that.

"That's what I thought," Thena murmured, although she ran her hand down Olympia's nose lovingly. Her other hand patted the laurel of flowers hung around the poor creature's neck as well. "Shall we get this off you?"

Gil did the honours, and Olympia obediently lowered her head to let him. The tournament assistants who had placed it on her had not gotten away with it so smoothly, getting nipped at by her at the time. But Gil patted her cheek, "that's better, huh? Roses aren't really your thing."

If she could, the mare would surely be rolling her eyes just like her rider.

"It's just tonight," Thena promised her, still holding her head and smoothing down her fur as Gil brushed her properly, if briefly. "We'll head home as soon as we can tomorrow."

Olympia huffed, but nudged Thena's whole upper body with her massive head. She, too, was ready to go home after all the excitement.

"Don't worry girl, I've got your dinner all prepped," Gil added, much to her delight. He chuckled as her ears perked and swivelled. "And I swiped some apples from the hotel breakfast for you."

Thena laughed faintly as well as he pulled two golden apples out of his jacket pockets. "Gil, the breakfast is free, you hardly needed to smuggle them here."

"Well, I didn't know how they felt about outside food here," he admitted, even glancing around them nervously. "But I wanted her to have a nice treat after all her hard work."

"No one would say anything to you, surely," she murmured, also looking around them. No one had better dare to say anything to him, rather. Or they would have her exchanging some words for which the club would definitely have to issue a formal apology.

"I'll come back after dinner," Gil promised as he patted Olympia's nose, moving alongside Thena to take their leave. "Bring her some oat cakes to make up for all the carbs she's burned."

Thena shook her head. The previous caretakers at the club could barely be argued into attending to Olympia just before they left club grounds right as dinner was served. Gil's devotion to going above and beyond for her horse never ceased to amaze her. "Heracles will be jealous you spoiled her like this."

"Well, that little shit can get spoiled too if he learns to behave."

Thena laughed, following Gil out of the stable. "They're holding a dinner for the victors, are you coming?"

"Oh," he blushed, squeezing her roses faintly, "I-I was just gonna get the hotel buffet again-"

"Nonsense," Thena discouraged. She pulled at her hair to release it from its painfully tight bun. "I invited you here, the least I can do is see to it that you get a proper meal out of it."

She didn't have to request he come with her. But in truth, she had wanted a familiar face when she was facing one of the biggest tournaments of her career. She had wanted his smile, and his familiar face, and his wave to be here.

The least she could do was take him to dinner.

[consult-sherlockholmes]

Graceful like a gazelle...

Or what's the name of the big grey animal with a long nose?

I take it you are referring to Elephantidae, which I will take as a compliment, given they are the most intelligent non-human animal and have astounding memories. Maybe elephants have a mind palace of their own, it must be enormous in that big skull.

If we are looking for an animal that represents my grace, I would either suggest a big cat that can climb well with amazing balance that can even survive falls from high heights in the mountains, such as the snow leopard.

Or if we are talking herbivores, I think my gracefullness can be compared to the Lipizzan horses. Those horses are artists in high classical dressage, haute ecole, the best in the world and experts at performing capriole, the most difficult jump.

I do not think there is anything more graceful than that. Well except me of course.

[ardently-equine]

I present to you all, The Moose - Moose is currently in Bastard Jail cause he's come back completely feral from his time off in the spelling paddocks after retiring from racing.

Why Moose you say? Well, he's an incredibly large unit standing just shy of 18hh, with a huge ass head and tends to lumber around like one, too.

He's got the over-sized carriage horse look going on rn cause the fucker let the yearlings in the paddock next to him chew off his beautifully long and thick tail😭🙄 but he's come back to the yard for re-education and for a hopeful career in the show horse/hunter ring 😌 and if he sucks at that, I might just persuade my coach to let me give him a spin in dressage cause he has some pretty nice gaits and hopefully we can turn him into an eventer if all else fails 😂

Plus, he's the most comfortable thoroughbred you can ride bareback 😍 we've taken him to the beach prior to his spell and it was a genuinely pleasant experience and felt super secure cause of how wide he is 😌 can't say the same for when I rode Nep bareback, that's for sure 😭😂

[virtie333]

I actually just re-read this one a short time ago. My 'heart fic.' The one I thought would get little attention because of its equestrian backdrop. The one where BB-8 becomes my Chester. I love this one so much!

[magicianenthusiast]

magne from the western au bc i wanted to try new brushes

[ieo-pio]

If I see Medic from the hit game TF2 in horse person gear again I will make an equestrian au

This is a threat >:(

[aigle-suisse]

171202_Clarendon_YH-2707.jpg par Franz Venhaus Via Flickr : Daniella Dierks and Tjibbe B in the 4YO Young Horse Commanded Test at the Dressage NSW Young Horse event on 02-12-2017 at Clarendon.

[adventures-in-mangaland]

Dead Boy Detectives Fic Recs Part 7

Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4 | Part 5 | Part 6

So I hear there's been some fandom drama? Guess it's time for another fic rec list! This fandom is so lovely, so let's focus on the positive and give all the love to our writers and artists. You guys are so talented. ♥️

Work It Harder, Make it Better by dear_monday, two_ravens

Olympics AU! And kind of Sk8er Boi? Charles is an Olympic skateboarder at the end of his competitive career and Edwin is a rising star in the world of dressage. They fall in love at Paris 2024. Amazing writing, as always, and I also enjoyed Niko and Crystal as members of the skateboarding and equestrian teams having their own Olympics Romance and Jenny as Charles' world-weary coach.

Twin Flame by Leandra

Another "He was a punk, he did ballet" romance! This time, everyone is alive and the boys meet when Charles watches Edwin perform at his little sister's ballet recital. The romance and Charles as a big brother are very sweet, which is great as this fic also covers some heavy themes. It's set in the 90s so there's discussion of homophobia, the AIDs crisis and Charles' canon child abuse. Suffice to say, his bisexual awakening is quite fraught. Recommended!

Love for Hire by lucrow

Edwin hires Charles to freak out his parents with his obnoxious fake boyfriend. What could possible haaappeeen? And yes, it's a ballet/punk romance too. 😅 Anyway, it's giving fantastic banter, lots of emotions and great use of trope! I also enjoyed Edwin's relationship with his mum in this fic, excellent parental feels.

so I try to talk refined by shadowquill17

Charles finds out about the Cat King taking on his appearance and (somehow) arrives at the conclusion that Edwin isn't attracted to him. Charles having body image as well as chronic self-esteem issues was interesting but kind of heartbreaking. Read it for Edwin's agonised attempts to verbalise his sexual attraction to Charles without exploding. That's love right there.

A Royal Pain(e) (series) by handwrittenhello

Royalty AU! I love a bodyguard romance from time to time and this one is lovely. Lots of yearning.

Turnabout's Fair Play by Like MmmCookies

Edwin enlists Niko and Crystal to teach him how to flirt with Charles. It starts off cute and awkward and ends up Master Of All He Surveys, which is very Edwin.

I will love you (I really love you) by ghostinthelibrary

Charles has a feelings realization and tries to confess to Edwin. Repeatedly. From a cock-blocking enchanted statue to a Hellhound, it's farcical and fun. This fic has been living in my head rent free for months.

seasons of mists by laiqualaurelote

Edwin hires Charles to be the barista in his book shop's cafe. Two cosy AUs in one! And it even comes (appropriately) with its own reading list and fanart! Very cute, excellent autumnal vibes and a superb imaginary book shop. I'm genuinely so devastated it's not a real place. 😭

Ariadne's Thread by hobbitsdoitbetter

In which Edwin is demisexual and trying to make it work with Charles. Love to see some ace spectrum representation!

you know the problem with history (it keeps coming back like weeds) by aletterinthenameofsanity

Amnesia AU! And kind of Secret Relationship? Edwin has Not So Temporary Amnesia that made him forget a whole romantic relationship with Charles early in their partnership. And Charles never told him... Surely this will have no impact on the events of canon?? 😬 I loved this twist on the trope!

scraped to the marrow by Anonymous

Edwin learned black magic in Hell and kind of went to the Dark Side. I love the trope of "Everyone thinks Character avoids violence because they're scared/weak/nice/bad at it, but actually they're a bit too good at it" and this fic does it well. I love regular Edwin, but Lord Bone was also pretty cool.

To Walk Back Into Hell by Asidian

Charles goes to Hell in Edwin's place, so naturally Edwin needs to find a way to rescue him! Interesting Hell lore and I loved all the Charles love in this.

It does not stop by williamvapespeare

Now he's safe from Hell, Edwin finally works through his PTSD. Emotional, but peak Emotional Support Charles for the win!

signed, sealed, delivered by sulfuric

Outsider PoV of the boys and the agency through the years from the perspective of the Ghost Postman. He's kind of underrated as a side character, but there are so many Implications about the Dead Letter Office, so I enjoyed the worldbuilding. And the supernatural community of London gossiping about/shipping the boys (they're just like us, for real). Love that trope.

not so secret by lola_prongs

Social Media/Celebrity AU! In which they're both actors and Charles relentlessly thirsts after Edwin on Twitter. Great use of social media/epistolary storytelling.

Like a record, baby by singtome

Another celebrity/social media AU, but this time Charles and Crystal are budding rock stars and Edwin is their manager. Also Edwin goes viral as the mysterious #HotGuyatUnity after his picture's taken at an event and Charles *tries* to set the record straight. This one's funny, generous with the yearning and UST and is part of a series that also touches on the darker side of the music industry/celebrity, which I appreciated. And it also has this excellent visual representation of the online drama.

@ghostinthelibrarywrites @tumblerislovetumblerislife @shadowquill17 @neurodivergent-fangirling @whatthehorsedoicallthisblog @shazziez @many-gay-magpies @extremely-eager-reader @atariakana @guardianspirits13 @colourmornings @herebehunters @avoiceofnerat @littlepocketuniverse @overlord-of-chaos @fairandfatalasfair @handwrittenhello @every-moment-a-different-sound @williamvapespeare @laiqualaurelote @dear-monday @dear-lucrow @aletterinthenameofsanity @likemmmcookies @bibliomancer7 @c-rowland @nobledragonflying @hobbitsdoitbetter

I've tagged some people again. Let me know if you'd like to be added to the tag list!

[daroamine]

Since you said to feel free to send in Mouthwashing requests / asks, I would really love to see more art about Anya and her Friesian horse Andromeda / Andy. I adore Friesians; they're one of my favorite horse breeds! Do you think Anya would like Dressage? Thank you!

HELLO!!! so glad you like them, it's so important to me that anya has a friesian specifically, i think it suits her so much. as for the dressage, andy's specifically part of a western au where the gang are assigned horses by pony express for the transporting of goods!! so she's used as a workhorse, but i imagine anya definitely admires dressage as an art. in the au i definitely imagine her with the strongest bond to her horse, so i'm sure she would be interested in trying dressage too :)

[softquietsteadylove]

Just Eros, Full with his ego, trying to win over the new stallion and Gil watching him with amusement. Eros learns a hard lesson 😈

Eros hit the ground hard, flat on his back with his hair rustling in the dust. The stallion he had attempted to mount whinnied with glee at his failure. "All right, mate, it wasn't that funny."

"I found it pretty funny."

Eros dusted himself off, still with plenty of dignity for a guy who had just been tossed to the dirt by their newest stable addition. He straightened his vest and looked at Gil, "do you not have anything else that needs your attention at the moment?"

He shrugged, leaning off the door frame and walking closer to arguably his second-least-favourite club member. "Nothing as fun as watching Heracles reject you."

"Hercules?"

Gil shook his head, his arms still crossed, "Heracles. Thena picked it."

Eros' face changed in a way Gil didn't entirely enjoy. "Ah, my beautiful Thena named him? I suppose that tracks--she does so have a way with the classics."

Gil resisted the urge to make a face at Eros kissing ass when the woman in question wasn't even present to hear it. "He's responded to her pretty well. But it'll be a long time before he's fit for riding, so I've told everyone to keep their distance for a while. I don't suppose you got that memo."

"Ah, must've flew under my radar, old chap," Eros excused vaguely as he clasped his hands behind his back like the old-money rich boy he was. "Apologies--I merely wanted to test out the new steed for myself."

"Well, you did, and you can see he's not up for it," Gil muttered, but Eros didn't scurry out of the stable like he would have hoped. In fact, he walked closer to the black stallion again. "Hey!"

"Fascinating creatures, are they not?" Eros tossed over his shoulder, leaning his face forward to observe Heracles. The horse paced back and forth in front of him, still tied up but obviously ready to kick and fight and fuss at a moment's notice.

"Uh, yeah man, I'm a big fan," Gil sighed, walking closer mostly to make sure Eros didn't get his skull bashed in by the obstinate stallion. That would for sure come out of his paycheck.

"I had always been around them," Eros shrugged, still monologuing to both of them but also no one in particular. "Comes with the upbringing, of course. But I truly loved riding from the moment I tried it."

Eros was pretty good too, not that Gil particularly wanted to admit it. But the club prized him as a member. He was aggressive and competitive when it called for it. And Gil did somewhat believe that his pretty boy status also helped in that regard.

"Being drawn to my lovely Thena simply came with the territory."

Gil twitched again. It wasn't really any of his business, technically. And he was pretty sure they weren't actually together, despite Eros' overly familiar way of speaking about her. But it gave Gil the creeps the way he attached 'my' to every adjective about her.

Eros gave him a look that felt like an odd mix of resentment and admiration. "Unfortunately, I believe she shares your obsession with these lovely creatures. I've never been able to lure her away form Olympia's side."

Gil had seen him try it, too. But Olympia was always eager to keep her dear rider away from the smarmy equestrian whose hair refused to be defined by the shape of their helmets.

"It seems you have succeeded in forging a," Eros paused, and again Gil got the distinct feeling his cage was being rattled, "friendship, of sorts, with her."

Not that he was an expert by any means, but Gil wouldn't say he completely lacked social awareness with people in exchange for his way with the horses. And he was pretty close to entirely sure that Eros was saying he was jealous, in not so many words.

"In such a short span of time working here, I do not know how."

Maybe it was more like he was about to warn him to stay away from her. Which Gil found even funnier in concept than watching Eros fall face first off of Heracles' back.

"But!" Eros ruffled his ridiculous coif of hair and looked at Gil head on. He put on a pleasant, if uncomfortable seeming smile. "I do believe it would be for my darling Thena's happiness alone that I could see myself setting aside our differences."

Now Gil was having to really dig to find the meaning behind Eros' many unnecessary words. But like shovelling the dung, he was up to the task, and he was pretty sure Eros was trying to say that Thena would be happy if they could be civil with one another.

Gil eyed Eros' vaguely gesturing hand, not at all held out for a real handshake between peers. "She tell you that?"

Pretty boy faltered, and Gil bit back a grin. "Not in so many words. But my dearest Thena isn't so loquacious by nature, now is she?"

My, my, my--that was all this guy ever said. Gil uncrossed his arms and swatted Eros' intrusive hands out of his personal space. And Heracles' for that matter! "I don't know about that. But the Thena I know always says exactly what she means. And she hasn't mentioned anything to me about us having to act like we're drinking buddies."

This time it was Eros who squirmed, and Gil enjoyed it maybe just a little, tiny bit too much. "Ah, well, my-"

"Look, man," Gil addressed the highborn gentleman the way he would any of his fellow shit shovellers. He put a hand on Heracles' neck, whose tail was still whipping around behind him in displeasure. "I don't care what problem you think you have with me. I'm here to take care of the horses. And I don't really care what you have to say on the matter, I trust that if Thena wants me to know something, she'll tell me."

Eros's pleasant smile slowly melted off his face, leaving a cold disdain in its place. He clasped his hands in front of him now, drawing up his shoulders to take advantage of his height. "Talk often with ma cherie, do you?"

Here was the root of the problem. Gil eyed Eros the same way he would Heracles or any other young colt getting a little too brash with him. He could recognise stomping hooves and aggressive breathing in more than just equines. "I don't know if everyday is often."

Eros bristled.

"But Thena likes to come in and spend time with Olympia," Gil shrugged, back to having a little too much fun messing with Eros. He ran his hand over Heracles' mane. "I guess we talk and hang out in here while she does."

It was common knowledge that Eros liked to all but follow Thena around when they were both on club grounds at the same time. The only one who didn't know she was completely uninterested, was Eros. Or maybe he did know, in which case Gil's distaste for the guy would only get worse from now on.

"Gil?"

"Speaking of," Gil waved to her.

"My love!"

"Eros," she greeted as dryly and formally as she could. She gave him and his outstretched arms a wide berth as she walked over to them. "How is he today?"

Gil stepped aside to let Thena greet Heracles in person. The stallion indeed eyed her with mild tolerance, passively allowing her presence in a way he didn't with many other club members. "He's in a pretty good mood. I think that's from rejecting riders left and right, though."

Thena took one look at Eros - and the dirt on the white sleeves of his riding shirt - and smiled. Her hand touched Heracles' nose gently, pulling him so she could nuzzle his snout in good humour. "I can't blame you, boy."

Heracles pulled his head from Thena's grasp, although it did seem like he was nodding. And he didn't kick up his back hooves in protest, either.

"Are you done training for the day, my sweet?" Eros continued, completely undeterred by his rejection, now thrice, nor Thena's refusal to even look him in the eye. "I would be happy to fetch us some lunch."

"No."

Gil chuckled, but Eros looked like she had whispered a sweet nothing to him. A woman of few words indeed. Poor guy; Gil could at least sympathise with the sucker who was clearly blindly in love with the rider between them.

He could see how Thena could have that affect on someone.

"Are you departing for the day, then? I-"

"I'm here to spend time with Olympia, Eros," Thena glared at him, no longer in the mood to even entertain his small talk. "I realise you and Pip are not so close, but some of us actually like our horses."

Eros sniffed, taking at least a little offense at the jab at his pride as a rider. He straightened again, "I shall leave you to it then, mi amor."

Thena didn't even bother looking at him as he dragged himself out of the stables, looking back at her no less than four times in the two minutes it took for him to exit the building completely. "Is he gone?"

Gil chuckled, happy to keep her secret for her. "He's gone."

She let out a sigh, which Heracles pretended annoyed him by shuffling away from her. "Usually he's gone by the afternoon so I can have some peace, but he's been hanging around more and more. He and Ikaris really think they can tame this fellow."

Heracles freely voiced what a ridiculous notion that was.

"Okay, okay, easy," Gil chided the excitable male. "Get over yourself, buddy."

Thena laughed faintly, moving away from the tied stallion with Gil and towards Olympia's pen. "I do hope he wasn't in here pestering you again."

Pestering sure, but not technically about anything related to his job this time. Gil glanced at her, "I mean I wouldn't say we're best friends or anything, but I guess he was harmless."

Thena freely shook her head, how sleek blonde ponytail swishing behind her. "You have my sympathies. But I admit I would rather he be bothering you than me and Olympia."

Gil's smile grew. She was still in her breeches and riding boots, which were pretty flat compared to the elegant heels he'd seen her wear casually. She was shorter than usual, allowing him to look down at her slightly.

"Sorry," she uttered after finding him staring at her. "I suppose that is cruel of me."

"Hey, I don't mind, consider it part of the job," he shrugged with a laugh. He looked in on Olympia, who was standing with her butt to them, as if to give them some privacy. He leaned on the edge of her gate. "I don't think he likes us being friends."

Thena startled faintly at the word. Last they had discussed being friends, he did have a distinct memory of her caring for him rather attentively.

The feeling of her lips on his cheek always came to his mind, whether he wanted it to or not.

"Well, I suppose I have to thank you for that," she pursed her lips faintly, waiting to see if he would further dig up the topic she clearly didn't feel the need to discuss further.

Gil just grinned, opening the gate for her and sliding out of her way. "What are friends for?"

She could definitely tell he was still in a teasing mood after having his fun giving Eros a hard time. But she walked into Olympia's pen to greet her horse.

"Holler if you need anything, ladies," he chuckled, bidding his goodbye to both Thena and Olympia. It was childish of him to like teasing Thena, but she was a lot cuter to tease than Eros.