#she knows how to ride horses by the way its true i know it

[spitinsideme]

can we get ragatha obsessing over horses please 🙏🙏 (it was confirmed by gooseworx that she’s a horse girl 🤯)

OBVIOUSLY SHES A HORSE GIRL !!!! shes so southern to me and this reinforces that fact, she used to have a horse inher little southern ranch and they were her favourite, the horse was an american belgian draft becaudse i think they loook the coolest for her and she knlws so much aboit them because she loves them sososomuch ... pomni is listening very hard she is very interested and ragatha loves talking about them

[jacesvelaryons]

The Reluctant Empress (Jacaerys Velaryon x Female!Reader)

Act II. Burgeoning

(19th Century Imperial Austria AU)

summary: crown prince jacaerys gets to know his prospect betrothed and future bride whom he has been arranged with to marry, your sister helaena targaryen, but true to your wild spirit, you cannot help but wonder what awaits in the world behind gilded castles and royal splendour.

word count: 2.4k words

a/n: i'm so sorry this took an entire year before an update but it is finally here! i apologize as I had some health things to settle, and with brain fog and got more distracted by other fandoms but here we go! once again, please comment and share what you liked, what you'd want more for me and request and let me know as my inbox is always open <3 let me know if you want to be on the taglist or not getting tags!

series masterlist

previously: prologue | act i

masterlist

requests OPEN

“Men at some time are masters of their fates. The fault, dear Brutus, is not in our stars, but in ourselves, that we are underlings.” ― William Shakespeare, Julius Caesar

Seated between her mother and sister, Y/N eyes roamed around the dining hall in the palace that hosted the royal family and her covey. Changed into an emerald green gown, wearing the necklace and earrings her father gave her on the last name day before his passing, she paid no mind to the significance of the occasion and was just glad to be there, surrounded in the splendor of the castle walls.

She knew that it was Helaena’s time to shine, and she would not want to rob her of her light, of the opportunity that would change their fortunes and not have Alicent scrabbling and worrying over the last penny of their expenses.

Twirling her fork on the pesto noodles in front of her, Y/N remained silent and just patiently listened to all the conversation around her, between her mother and her childhood friend the Queen, who inquired about Helaena’s well being, her lifestyle and assessing on how she would adjust becoming the next consort upon wedding Jacaerys.

Dazed out in a world of her own, Y/N did not hear Jacaerys reverting his attention to her aptly, until her sister nudged her ankle with her shoe, repeating her name on his tongue like it was the sweetest honey, curiosity and amusement on his features.

“Lady Y/N, what do you do in your free time, my lady?”

Stammering like a cat bit her tongue, she cleared her throat as she gathered herself and make her look and sound presentable.

“I ride horses, my prince. I hunt and I have picked up the sword a few times.” Lady Y/N bluntly replied, already feeling the burning glare of your embarrassed mother. Queen Rhaenyra only watches in amusement, how her confidante could have a daughter who was nothing like her mother.

Jacaerys was intrigued, leaning forward to hear Y/N better and scooch closer over to Her. A curious smile on his handsome, chiseled face, his curly brown hair starting to grow out and neatly groomed behind his ears.

Plates and utensils remained untouched as Y/N and Jacaerys were engrossed in an engaging, animated conversation, passionate replies to uncontrollable laughter.

The older women present at the table watched with trepidation, Lady Alicent’s habits of digging into her fingernails returned while the silver-haired queen’s expression turned unreadable.

Helaena swallowed her wounded pride of being ignored and not found as an interesting companion, playing with her knife and fork, digging at the roast beef the same way her young daughter would.

As the servants gather the finished main course meals and replace them with fresh fruit and lemon cakes for dessert, Rhaenyra swiftly suggests for the elder Targaryen sister to read out some of the poetry her mother praised earlier.

“You must share with us your talent in verse and poetry, Lady Helaena.”

Relieved, the indigo hued girl stood up at the end of the table, grabbing her little booklet hidden in the pockets of her skirt. Flipping through its parchment pages, she settles to a recent entry close to the end of the worn out leather bound book, covered with an embroidered beetle.

To want is the most natural thing Inherent in the blood through our veins The very primal urge of our being Yet we will always want, and want With no end like a black hole What better to want what is not ours? To covet what the other possesses To take away what is given as easily as it was owned?

Her raspy voice echoed through the halls mellifluously in perfectly rehearsed High Valyrian. Yet you could not help a guilty perception weighing on you, blossoming at the pit of your stomach and you could not shake it off. You were doing nothing wrong, you told yourself, wanting to believe in it but it felt wrong.

Y/N’s fears arose to the surface when she could feel a burning stare on her face intensely, as if memorizing her very form and that she would disappear into nothing anytime. You were listening as intently as you could, yet when you turned, Jacaerys did not pay mind to a single word Helaena said as his focus was fixated on you.

No, no, no. Nothing was going as planned. Everything was going wrong. She praises whatever gods intervened when the heir’s brother Prince Lucerys gracefully diverted the topic into the new cuisines created by the cooks of the Keep with the freshest catches of seafood from Driftmark.

…

“Y/N, what do you think you were doing out there?! Do you think I do not notice your need to always be the centre of attention?” The shrill shrieking of her mother’s voice pierced through her ear drums, yet Y/N was unsurprised and used to such altercations with her mother.

Following the uneasy supper, the three ladies from Dalston Keep returned to their chambers to change midday in preparation for the tour around the gardens with the queen and her heir again after a few hours of respite.

Silently humiliated as they reconvened in private, the illusion of propriety that Lady Alicent carried in front of the queen and prince ripped away, unleashing a ferocity unrestrained like never before.

“I did nothing, mother. I was polite and engaged in a conversation when I was spoken to.”

“You did more than that, you foolish girl! It was about your sister. All of this was about her, not you! Is it so difficult for you to tone down your tendencies for once so we can go according to the arrangement? You put our fortunes up to be desolated. You are as careless as your father!” The sting of her final words hung in the air, salt over the open wound for such a loss. Y/N knew her mother did not love her father, who was older than her own father, and only did her duty to her ailing, troubled, aging husband.

“Mother, that is enough! Do not bring father into this.” Helaena countered exasperatedly, holding onto her sister by her shoulders in defense. “Y/N did nothing wrong. It was..it was me. I should have engaged with the prince more. She did me a favour.”

Y/N gasps in disbelief, astonished her beloved sister would keep taking her side when it was clear she was the wounded party.

“Do not worry about it, mother. I promise I will remain silent from now on. I want this to be Helaena’s night.” Y/N swears sincerely, wanting to defend Helaena and stay away from any trouble from now on.

Alicent does not fully believe her youngest, but nods solemnly as she seeks to move this behind them, returning to her dignified, contemplating gaze with her perfect posture and arms clasped at her waist.

Subsequently, a drove of maids and seamstresses poured in, as Alicent went to her solitary room while the sisters shared a larger room. Each stepped on the raised wooden platform. Taking lush gowns from the closet, they plucked out a rich emerald green gown with fitted sleeves for Helaena.

Meanwhile, a muted seafoam gown was placed on Y/N, as maids scuttered behind her to tighten the corset and laces. Y/N whimpered quietly in discomfort, never finding any gratification in restrictive court dress upheld by centuries of protocol and conduct. It barred her sense of freedom, clipped off her wings from flight and reminded her of a bird in a cage.

Heirloom pieces of emerald silver lined jewelry were given to Helaena, designed to accentuate her beauty and prepare her for her upcoming role and ascent into her duty. As the daylight trickled in through the lace curtains and open windows, she looked like a future queen. A role she was raised to be. Otherworldly and ethereal, while Y/N was grounded to the earth, locks like flames and soil.

Y/N beamed in delight for her older sister, squeezing her hands in reassurance. Helaena reciprocated not as enthusiastically, the nerves still getting to her as her palms were sweating and shaking.

“You have nothing to worry about, Hel. We would not get this far if he did not consider you his bride already.”

“Truly, do you really think so?”

“I do. Without a doubt. You already look the part. It is only the formality left we are waiting for at the ball.”

The elder genuinely chuckled this time in relief, her joy finally meeting her eyes from the comfort and encouragement of her sister.

“Now, all that is left is for you to step into your destiny.”

…

Manicured gardens flourished in the peak of spring, cicadas chirping from the branches of oak trees. Lilies and carnations in hues of apricot and blush, while the outlying paths were paved in blue hydrangeas and violet peonies.

Queen Rhaenyra adorned a lapis lazuli blue gown adorned in gold trimmings and sapphires sewn onto her bodice, matching the stone necklace of the color on her neck and matched her tiara, a reminder of her late mother and former queen.

She pleasantly strolled with a natural confidence, carrying herself with an ease afforded by one who has known privilege and power all her life. Guiding a tour around the Red Keep at the height of its social season, Rhaenyra proudly showed off her domains, and subtly if so, the lands that Helaena would take care of as its hostess after she marries Jacaerys and becomes his queen when the time comes.

Behind her was her eldest Crown Prince Jacaerys, always without a hair or trivet out of place, the picture of perfection that she had groomed since his birth. Dressed more casually in teal with the seahorse emblem on his chest, he honoured his late father Lord Laenor Velaryon, further dispelling any rumours or uncertainty around his paternity.

Although he did not directly resemble his father, he has begun to share features with his paternal grandmother Princess Rhaenys with her Baratheon colouring, and the shape of his nose and chin mirrored her father, who was another Prince of Dragonstone, Prince Aemon the Pale Prince. As rider of Vermax, it was undeniable he was the prince long awaited by the realm, whom millions of hopes and dreams were instilled in.

Standing beside him was Lady Helaena Targaryen, his expected betrothed in everything but formality. Raised with the intention of becoming a princess consort, she was demure, shy, obedient and trusting, exactly what the people of Westeros wanted of their model future queen. Proven in her success of childbearing, onlookers examined her critically on baited breath as they wanted to know who will bear the next generation of Targaryen rulers on the Iron Throne.

Their chaperons trailed behind them, Lady Alicent arm in arm with Lady Y/N, in the same shade of muted green, but her mother had visible symbols of the Faith of the Seven from her necklace, her dark headdress and veil, and on the cuffs on her wrist and belt. Y/N distractedly took in her sights, studying every nook and cranny of the storied palace with eagerness and pursuit.

“This garden still follows the design plan created by Queen Rhaenys the Conqueror herself, yet it was only finished years after her passing in Dorne.”

The queen continued the tour of the keep, while she discreetly eavesdropped on the conversation between her heir and his expected betrothed. The two were engaging pleasantly yet amiably on the surface level, their dialogue not reaching too far. Unaware of a figure parting at the fork and heading another direction.

…

When she is assured she’s clear and no one can find her, Y/N Targaryen smirks victoriously as she heads straight and turns left towards the barn, near the dragonpit, where the horses and grazing animals were located.

On nimble footsteps, through the mud and manure, she makes a run for it as two stableboys turn the corner and miss her, as they forgot to close the stables and she sneaks in.

As the afternoon light trickles in, Y/N looks around curiously, before her attention is caught by this white mare, with its freshly brushed mane and shining horsehair, an anomaly among ebony and hickory. Not wanting to startle the majestic creature, she prances until she’s in front of the horse, hushing and cooing at them as she latches onto the reins.

She holds the mane by her reins, tugging gently as she walks through the barn and the empty backwaters of the ancient castle. It is quiet, with most servants resting for their annual nap and their morning duties finished, so Y/N is able to ride the stallion undiscovered.

The lingering scent of the manure and greenery turns into salty waters of aegean and spruce and the earthy, musty petrichor from the rain on the fir and cedar trees earlier in the morning.

A hint of the cool breeze tingles through her skin, a dress and not proper riding gear in its leathers and furs, but she brushes it off, as King’s Landing in the spring at this time of the year has turned warm and the rain from earlier is long gone.

She rides as far as her companion will allow, until the peripheral view of the Red Keep grows distant from over her shoulder. Y/N stops at the fork of the road before it joins the greater Kingsroad, diverting by the forest with towering trees and fallen logs. Sitting by the foot of a trunk, Y/N pauses for some stillness, her back pressing against the hard trunk as she closes her eyes, before grabbing an apple and vial of water to share with her stallion.

As she and the mare finish the fruit, she stands up to brush off any leaf and dirt on the back of her skirt, about to mount once again before she hears echoes of confrontation growing closer. Y/N has barely begun to leave the forest and return to the artery before she is surrounded by hooded, disheveled men with smug expressions.

Unable to avoid contact, she politely acknowledges them and pulls her cape over her flaming locks before she is stopped from moving in either direction. “Good morrow, sirs.”

She yelps as she’s grabbed by her wrists by the men, struggling to stay on her saddle as the mare turns skittish. “Not so fast, my lady. We need something from ya, and you gotta pay up for our silence. Comes with a price.” The men smirk, distant galloping approaching them.

Y/N yelps as she is knocked off her horse, hitting her head against the rock and all turns into darkness around her. She hears a distant echo of another mount heading her way, furious yelling and clattering swords. Her head throbs, feeling the blood dripping down her nape, as her eyes flutter closed.

[boxofbonesfic]

Title: Brave [8 of ?]

Pairing: Orc!Steve x Reader

Summary: Steve struggles to lead the pack after their losses. 

Warnings: 18+ Only, Genre typical violence, Warlord Nomad AU, Dark Fantasy AU, Enemies to lovers, Eventual smut, References to past abuse, Fighting, Monsters, Animal Death, Violence, Mildly described gore

A/N: whew, two updates so quickly? maybe i’m getting back to my old ways (hopefully). i really hope you all enjoy, and as always, reblogs and feedback of all kinds are appreciated and always welcome! thank you! mind the warnings ❤️

It is another four days ride before you see the sun again, briefly, the shimmering circle appearing for an instant between the black, roiling clouds. It is a pale shadow of its former self—much like the pack. You number so few now that even you are aware of the stark, bare place that has been left behind by the fallen. The thick cord of riders had once stretched back into the grass sea like a formidable chain, and now it is only frayed and fragile thread. 

In the distance, the storm rumbles as if in reminder of what lies behind. 

You can still pick out the outermost bands of it; dark spiraling arms set against an even darker sky, stretching back the way you had come for uncountable leagues until it fades into the horizon. The earth is still pitted with its fury. 

Steve rides at the front. He presses forward with a persistence that leaves even the pack struggling to keep his pace. He has spoken little since the pass, regarding all but the most important of tasks with grim disinterest. You have not stopped riding since the first night, since the fire, and you wonder if he intends to allow the pack even a moment’s respite. A single rider breaks away from the loose formation, and you recognize Carol’s choppy braid from the back as she steers her horse away and forward, falling in line with Steve. 

You do not quite know what possesses you to follow suit—you bear no rank, no true role in this pack—unless you count being the spoils of war, and you do not. But you follow suit, steering the horse with your knees until you’re close enough to catch snatches of their conversation over the wind. 

“We’re off course. You know that. We haven’t seen the stars in days, brother.” 

You watch the muscles in Steve’s back go rigid, and you imagine his hands tightening on the reins. This is the first time you have ever seen anyone come even mildly close to reproaching his decisions, and you can tell that Steve takes the incursion with as little kindness as he can manage. 

“Kez fin tor tuzor ugani.” You don’t understand the harshly uttered, guttural syllables, but you do understand the way his lips curl back from his tusks, and the sharp points gleam white in the midday-gloom. Carol doesn’t back down, nor does she shrink away, regarding him as calmly as ever. Steve scoffs at her. 

“We will find our way.” 

“But will we find it before water runs out? Or food?” She gestures behind her at the pack, dutifully marching along behind them. “They need time to rest. Time to grieve.” She seems to hesitate. “You need time to grieve.” At this, Steve whips around to face her, his teeth bared. 

“Tread carefully.”

“As should you.” Carol grimaces. Dry grass rustles and snaps beneath the hooves of your horse. You wince, staring down at the reins as you will the earth to open beneath you to save you the embarrassment of your eavesdropping. It does not, and your face warms as you shoulder the weight of their respective gazes. 

“How kind of you to bend your ear, Sweetmeat.” Steve says dryly, his lips pressed into a thin, unamused line. His icy eyes fall to Carol, who looks no happier than he. “I suppose you, too, have words for me?” Suddenly, you are aware of how exhausted he looks, the way it lines his features, pressing down on him with almost physical weight. Carol is right, you cannot help but think it. He does need time to grieve. You flounder, your mouth opening and closing as your face heats. 

“O-only that w-we—the pack, I mean. They’re tired, like Carol said—”

Steve looses an irritated growl, raking a hand through his sandy hair. 

“Let me speak plainly, little human. There is law, here.” His blue eyes are dark, angry. He looms over you, even on horseback, and your skin prickles. In the weeks since you had been taken, you’d almost forgotten what it was to fear him, to see the predator wearing man’s clothes, speaking man’s language—almost. 

“Should you choose to challenge my law again, Sweetmeat, you will know the price for doing so—and you will learn that it is dear.” He inhales deeply, licking his lips like he can taste the scent of your  in the air, before digging his heels in below the saddle, and turning the horse sharply away. 

“We ride until nightfall.” The command is so loud it carries out over the grass sea, vibrating in your bones like thunder. Steve narrows his eyes at Carol, and then you. “Then we wait for star-sign.” 

—

The persistent ache in your legs and back from the days and nights spent in the saddle are enough to make you wince as you swing down from it and plant your feet firmly into the dirt. Your face still stings with heat from Steve’s admonishment, and as the rest of the pack begins unsaddling and setting up camp, you avoid him as best you can, setting up your bedroll on the far side of the fire. As you’re laying it down, Carol clears her throat behind you. 

“I should thank you,” she says, sighing. “He mightn’t have stopped if I’d been the only one.” 

You grimace, your expression souring. “You heard what he said. He sounded like—” You pause, biting your tongue. 

“Bucky.” Carol finishes it for you, and you wonder if all orcs have such an innate sense of brazen impropriety or if you have been simply blessed to meet them all in this particular raiding party. “He… Steve was chosen. Dethak. To lead us, to lead this pack. He feels responsible.” 

You scoff. “He couldn’t have known! The storm, the, the…Zhat?”

“Zhut.” Carol reaches out to press her fingers around your mouth as you attempt to imitate her, unyielding even when you flinch. “Yes.” She nods when you have repeated it satisfactorily, but then her face falls as she is reminded of the pass. 

“And… yes.” Carol sighs. “He could not. But would you not feel responsible? Burying only the idea of your kin?” She pats your shoulder, and then tugs aside what remains of your sleeve to look at the wounds bandaged beneath. “Let’s get these cleaned, shall we?” 

—

It’s past dark by the time you shoo Carol away, gritting your teeth as you reassure her that you know how to change the dressings on your own. She’s worse than mother. You shrug back into your dress’ single remaining tattered sleeve, regarding it with only a moment’s worth of regret. It is the last thing that remains of your home. It’s fallen into ragged disrepair, now, The bodice shredded down to the under-layers, your legs visible between the surviving strips of cloth that now form your skirt. Once, you would have been terrified to feel the grass trail against the skin of your calves for fear of being stoned for your wanton sin—but no one remains in the village to cast stones at you now. 

You’re sitting down on your bedroll when you feel him, your skin prickling as Steve approaches you. You have never been quite so aware of anyone before, but Steve’s gaze always makes the hair at the back of your neck prick up. He clears his throat. 

“I would speak with you, Little One.” You clamor back up to your feet, your cheeks stinging. You prepare yourself for more harsh words, staring hard down at your tightly clasped hands. “I would… apologize. For my words.” You can tell he does not enjoy humility. “You spoke against me out of desire to protect the pack, and for that I cannot fault you.” You peek up at him from between your lashes. 

“I admit did not look forward to your punishment.” You reply, and he snorts. 

“Ah, we come to the truth of it. Stubborn, aren’t you?” Steve chuckles deeply. “With an attitude like yours, Sweetmeat, I expect you knew the village stockade quite well.” Your cheeks flush with heat, but it doesn’t stop your lips from pressing into an irritated line as you glare at him. 

“This is a rather poor apology,” you grumble, crossing your arms as you glare back toward the camp. A fire rages at the center, and the scent of cooking meat is carried over by the cool breeze. You turn back to him, and something akin to lightning zips up your spine as you find him staring at you. 

“Then I am sorry for that, too.” Commotion draws both your attention. 

“Look, sky!”

“I see sky!”

You look up. The air above still swirls with misty clouds, but it clears with each passing moment, starlight pricking through the black. In the village church they told you that those were Halith’s eyes—thousands and thousands of them, gleaming like diamonds in pitch. The eyes through which she looked down upon the world, through which she would cover it in her light. But you did not feel Halith’s presence in the church, and you do not feel it here in the grass sea. 

Your mother had told you they were something else—other places, other worlds. Other lives, and when you died, you got to go up into the sky and see them, one by one forever if you wanted. 

Your father called it heresy. 

“What are they to you?” You ask, and he hums. “The stars.” 

“The ones who came before.” It is the first time you’ve seen the sky clear in days, since before the pass. 

“Like heroes?” You ask, and Steve shakes his head. 

“Not quite. Those who have done right by the people, by the clan—they rest there.” He points. “That, there? It is the handle of an axe, is it not?” He asks, and you tilt your head, squinting.

“I suppose?”

“It is Molroch’s axe, the blade that split the sea so that the grass could grow.” It is as though the hard years melt from his face to reveal the boy beneath. “He led the people well.” There is a sour note you can taste in his praise.

“It’s not your fault. What happened in the pass—you must know that. It isn’t.” You do not realize you’re touching him until you are, your hand brushing the skin of his arm before you snap it back. 

For uncountable seconds, the only sound is the shifting of the grass around you. Steve turns back toward the camp, his large hand warm on your shoulder. 

“You should rest.”

“You should too.” He does not answer you, squaring his shoulders in a way that tells you that the conversation is finished, at least for now.

to be continued…

next chapter

[ivystoryweaver]

No One Like You - Poe Dameron

Poe + Horseback riding

Fall Fluff Masterlist | Poe Masterlist | Main Masterlist

Okay so, this ficlet is a "deleted scene" from my unwritten "Poe crash lands to Earth" story I'm pretending will be posted in Poevember. For that reason, you will discover the slightest slivers of angst surrounding that concept, but I promise it's fluff.

Word count: 1.3k (technically not a ficlet, oh well!) || for @virtie333

Darkness faltered as the last stars danced against its covering canopy. Robins chirped dawn's arrival, their song scattering night's hold over the earth.

Booted footfalls fell on damp soil, carrying you out to the stables, where two magnificent animals waited for your attention eagerly.

Poe Dameron watched as you nuzzled your forehead against the fairer one, stroking gently and whispering, "Good morning, sweet girl."

The darker, redder horse beside her let out a slightly annoyed squeal, which made you chuckle before granting her equal attention, speaking so softly, Poe could barely hear you.

Polishing off the rest of his caf - or coffee, as Earthlings called it - Poe set his ceramic mug down, hoping to be of some use.

Weeks had passed since he'd come to be here with you - since his X-wing spun out of control, through a black hole to a galaxy far, far away. It took the two of you almost a week to successfully hide his nearly obliterated ship on your farm and make up a cover story, should anyone come knocking.

It also took quite a lot of convincing for Poe to believe that there was no one on Earth who could help repair his ship - not without drawing the kind of attention that would get him locked up or put under a microscope.

So, he decided to trust you.

You gave him a bed in your spare room, two warm meals a day, and in return, he helped out on your small farm. He wasn't sure how he could ever get home, but this place wasn't so bad, for now.

"Are there horses where you're from?" You asked Poe a bit later, brushing the coat of your sweet Annabelle.

"There were animals called orbaks one one of the moons of a planet called Endor. And I think there are your kind of horses on its forest moon. Never seen those myself, though," Poe explained, gesturing toward your animal.

A warm smile brightened your face. "So did you ever ride an orbak?"

"No," he cockily grinned. "I was too busy flying my X-wing. My best friend rode one in battle though. It was - what do you say? ‘Badass.’”

Giggling at the colloquialism, you finished brushing Annabelle's mane and reached for the fly spray. "I cannot believe you've been in actual battles. In space. You must think Earth is so boring."

He shrugged one shoulder. "Earth has wars, right? Battles, soldiers? It's the same thing."

"True, but no laser guns and laser swords and powerful wizards and talking furry...what did you call Chewbacca?"

"A Wookiee," Poe chuckled.

After spraying Annabelle, you fed her a quick treat and saddled her. "You be nice to Poe, sweet girl," you instructed her affectionately. "He's new to this."

"Are you sure you don't want to ride her?" Poe politely asked you. "I can try the other one."

You glared at him half-jokingly. "I promise you do not want to ride Arzola. She's not for newbies."

Dark eyebrows shot up at the challenge. "You know, I can fly anything."

"Fly, sure. Ride?" Pulling your bottom lip between your teeth, you winked at him. "Leave the riding to me."

Poe Dameron had never backed down from a challenge in his life, and two in a row had just been laid before him.

Arzola. And you.

"Her loss," he playfully shrugged, carefully approaching the moodier chestnut. "You don't know what you're missing, sweetheart."

"Are you flirting with my horse?" You swatted his arm with a pretend huff.

Trapping your hand against his bicep with incredible reflexes, his eyes locked with yours before momentarily flickering down to your lips. "Not with her."

Arzola nudged her way between the two of you protectively, breaking your temporary trance.

Clearing your throat, you nodded toward her saddle. "Come on, I'll show you how to do this."

Soon enough, you and Poe guided Arzola and Annabelle, respectively, out for an early morning ride.

As expected, Poe was a natural and quickly took command of Annabelle, showing no signs of nervousness and forming an instant bond with her. He seemed so good at it, you almost felt a mildly jealous pang at how she warmed to him. He'd tried out Annabelle a couple times, on quick walks around the paddock, but this was the first real ride.

Sunlight spilled over the horizon, illuminating the path before you, inviting you to rush headlong to where light kissed the earth.

You clicked twice, urging Arzola ahead into a full run, which Annabelle immediately followed.

Poe, of course, accepted the challenge and gave Annabelle a gentle squeeze with his legs. “Come on, sweetheart.”

Annabelle neighed out an affirmation, galloping ahead of the competition. Arzola possessed fiery spirit in spades, but Annabelle's legs were longer, and she preferred to think of herself as the favorite.

"That's my girl," Poe bellowed out a joyful laugh as crisp autumn air whipped through his curls, tossing them carelessly around his forehead. He chanced a look at you, flashing you a devastating grin, dark eyes bright and reddened by the sun's kiss, almost a twin color to Arzola's coat.

This was closest you'd come to seeing him in action, aside from a few projects he'd attempted with a hammer around the farm, and you had to admit, it was a good look on him.

Despite the joy surging through you at the chance to take both your girls out for a run, and with Poe, no less, you still possessed a competitive streak of your own.

With a powerful command you'd probably come to regret, you granted Arzola the permission she was impatiently waiting for, to run top speed and catch the stranger riding her adoptive sister.

Despite the vigor and exertion involved with riding a horse at a full gallop, the look on Poe's face as he stared out over the horizon could be considered nothing short of pure peace.

The two of you slowed and finally brought your animals to a stop. After walking them for a few minutes, you offered them a drink from a hose and trough near a ramshackle tool shed at the far end of your property.

You and Poe sat down on the creaky old steps leading up to the door, taking a moment to have a drink yourselves while the sun finally climbed all the way to full daylight.

"Thanks for this," he softly uttered, turning to gaze at your profile.

Although you felt him staring, you couldn't bring yourself to meet his eyes.

"You're welcome." Finishing off your water bottle, you glanced over at your horses. "Annabelle likes you. Really likes you. She usually can't be bothered to race Arzola."

"Why is that?"

"She's just gentle. She must've had a good reason to challenge her," You explained with a knowing wink.

Poe beamed proudly, following your gaze over to the magnificent creatures. "They're amazing animals. I know it doesn't make sense, but Arzola reminds me of BB-8 a little bit."

"Of a robot?" You scoffed. "For real?"

"A droid," Poe corrected. "Believe me, they can have spirit."

"He must be wonderful," you sympathized, knowing he was separated from the little guy.

Poe ran a hand over the stubble on his chin, eyes dipping as he contemplated a life so far away from everything he'd ever known.

Swallowing, he bravely scooted a little closer to you, meeting your eyes with the openness and sincerity you'd come to expect from him.

"He would be really happy to know that I met someone like you. Someone who helped me. Protected me."

Your lip trembled slightly under his intensity. You'd never met a man like him in your life. There couldn't possibly be anyone like him, at least not on this planet.

Laying your hand gently over his, you spoke from your heart. "I know you didn't plan on any of this, but I'm happy I met you, Poe."

Fall Fluff Masterlist | Poe Masterlist | Main Masterlist

[kteezy997]

Lady in Waiting-Part Seven// King Hal

Warning: secret relationship

"It was so kind of Hal to take you out riding. It shows great character in a King to take the time to make a servant's day." Sophia said to you that evening. She sighed contentedly. She never did realize how her comments could be received in a condescending or pompous way.

You were helping her getting ready to retire to bed for the night. You had the heart of a wonderful man, and he had yours in return. Therefore, her words did not disrupt your happiness on this day.

You smiled to yourself, thinking of the things you and Hal had done that afternoon. "It made my year, really." you admitted to your lady, but it was not the truth in its entirety. The day with the horses, out in the open of the beauty of the countryside, and then making love to Hal for the first time, it had meant the world to you. So much more than a day, or even a year. But you could not say that to the woman Hal was to marry the very next day.

Sophia seemed satisfied with the way you replied to her. She stepped into her nightgown, turned for you to tie the garment for her. "I could not have asked for a better husband." she cooed. "Can you truly believe it, y/n? I am to be married to a King tomorrow. I am going to be Queen. This is everything I have ever dreamed of."

"I am happy for you, my lady." you lied, but put on the best front you could muster. "It will be a beautiful day indeed."

"Oh, yes! Everything will be perfect!" she nearly shrieked. With a delighted huff, she hopped into her plush bed, waited for you to pull the covers over her. She did not exert herself in your presence.

You all but tucked the future queen into bed, then you said, "Sleep well, my lady. It is a big day tomorrow, and you'll want your beauty sleep."

"Goodnight, y/n. The next time you see me, I will be just a few breaths from becoming Queen of England." she smiled so dreamily. You had no doubt, in that moment, that she was picturing her perfect life, raising children and ruling the country with her new husband.

..........

As you left Sophia's bed chamber, you could not help but take some delight in having a secret from her. She had never been directly cruel to you, but absentmindedly. In the mind of the Princess, she was more important than you in every way. You were the servant, and she highborn. But you had true love. It just so happened to be with the man Sophia was to marry, the man she so desperately wanted to desire her. But he did not, and he never intended to.

You were surprised to find one of Hal’s noblemen standing at your bedroom door. It seemed that he was waiting just for you, as his eyes widened a bit when he noticed you approaching.

“Milady, I hope I did not startle you, but I bring a message from the King.” the young man said to you.

You frowned, what was Hal up to? “What is the message?” You felt your heart pounding as you began to worry. All of the things that could have gone wrong spun through your mind.

"The King asks you for discretion, he says you will understand. He also asks you to join him in his bed chamber."

You were not expecting this. What if something has happened. Did someone find out about the two of you? "Are you certain no one else will know about this?" you asked the man.

"Yes, of course, milady. The King and I were alone when he asked this of me."

"Alright, I will meet with him." You agreed, trying to calm yourself as you were lead to Hal's wing of the castle.

.......

The guard let you into Hal's room. You were overwhelmed at how large it was. The bed stood tall and looked incredibly soft. But the room was dark and moody, and humidity hung in the air. Hal lay in the large tub, brimming with hot water near the window.

He turned his head to look at you, his gaze softened immediately. His naked chest and shoulders were damp with steam from the water of his bath. "Get in the tub this instant, my darling girl." he instructed, a tired smile on his lips.

"Is everything well, my Lord?" you questioned.

"Of course it is. Now take your clothes off before the water gets cold, y/n." your King seemed mildly agitated at your reluctance.

"I was worried someone found out about today." you took off your robe.

"No, no, I will not let that happen. Please do not worry." He watched you remove the rest of your clothes, grinning softly.

You gingerly gripped the edge of the tub, stepping into the water, the heat nearly shocked you, "Oh, I do not believe you are in any danger of this water running cold."

Hal let out a chuckle, and laced his arms around you under the water, pulling your back to his chest. "I apologize for worrying you. I only wanted to spend my last night as a single man with the woman I love." He gave your body a snug squeeze.

“Hal, you can be so endearing.” you leaned back into his embrace, resting the back of your head on his shoulder.

“Please do not tell anyone. It is only for you.” he then kissed you on temple.

After getting out of the bath, Hal wrapped a warm towel around you, giving you an onslaught of kisses after.

“I’ve instructed the guard to retrieve you at sunrise and escort you back to your bedroom. No one will know a thing.” he promised. “I love you, y/n. This wedding does not change a thing.”

“It does for Sophia. You must know that she admires you a great deal. She would be so broken if she knew about us.”

“She will never know. I will give her a child, as I am required to, and she will be happy enough.”

“Do not be unkind, Hal." you pleaded, "She may not be the warmest person, but she cannot help it.”

“I was raised the same as Sophia and yet I know how to treat people decently. I am not blind to the way she treats you.”

“She treats me well.” you said, albeit weakly.

“With rude comments, as I hear. Gossip travels fast, and I have heard about her treatment of you and many of the staff here with patronizing views.”

“Oh, really?" you pondered. "I never knew she was rude to the others. But I have heard about you also, Hal. About your drinking and fooling around outside of the palace before your father’s passing. Perhaps when you lived out in society, you were treated as an equal and learned by nature.”

Hall hummed, understanding, “I see. Perhaps, Sophia truly cannot change her ways because she knows of nothing else. She knows not of life outside of palace walls. She is of the highest realm and all she can do is treat others as they are beneath her.”

“Maybe having to raise a child will reduce her to a level of understanding of the working class. Maybe she can finally learn what respect is.”

“There is always room for improvement for everyone. Except for you, as you are already perfect.” he grinned, kissing your bare shoulder.

“Hal, no need to flatter me for I am already in your bedroom, naked.” you leaned in slowly, smirking at your man before kissing him.

.......

"You will bed her tomorrow night? In here?" you asked Hal as you settled into his lush bed together. You felt so warm under the covers with him.

"Yes." he answered, adding, "I can take her to her own bedroom, if it brings you discomfort for me to bring her in here."

"Hal, I want you to do what is most comfortable for you. It is your room, not mine."

"It will be your room." he said plainly.

"Whatever do you mean?" you asked, struck by his statement.

"Eventually, the excitement over the wedding will die down, Sophia will be with child, and I want you and I to have as normal of a relationship as possible. You will be my true wife and sleep in here with me, if you choose to. Sophia will be my wife by law, but it matters not to me."

You sighed, "All of this is so heavy and all at once."

Hal hugged you tightly, resting his chin on your shoulder, "I know. But take it at your own pace, my love. I will be here for you."

"I just wonder how Sophia would react to all of this." you admitted.

[beatrice-otter]

Such an exhibition

I have been thinking about the breakfast scene in Pride & Prejudice. You know the one:

“Yes, and her petticoat; I hope you saw her petticoat, six inches deep in mud, I am absolutely certain; and the gown which had been let down to hide it not doing its office.” ... “You observed it, Mr. Darcy, I am sure,” said Miss Bingley; “and I am inclined to think that you would not wish to see your sister make such an exhibition.” “Certainly not.” “To walk three miles, or four miles, or five miles, or whatever it is, above her ankles in dirt, and alone, quite alone! what could she mean by it? It seems to me to show an abominable sort of conceited independence, a most country-town indifference to decorum.”

It strikes me that there are some nuances that people often miss when talking about this. The first is that Miss Bingley attributes this "conceited independence" not to a flaw in Elizabeth personally, but to the difference between the manners of the country gentry (such as the Bennets) and the fashionable people who live in cities (like the Bingleys). In town, fashionable and wealthy people did not walk long distances. Fashionable people either owned horses/carriages, or took cabs. They would walk in parks where it was fashionable to walk. But they rarely walked alone, especially women. A man might walk to his club alone, in the afternoon, but when walking home from his club that evening he would hire a man to walk with him to discourage pickpockets and muggers. Even in posh neighborhoods!

But in the country ... there aren't cabs, and while there were robbers on the highways who would stop carriages to steal from them, they weren't lurking along footpaths such as the one Elizabeth would have taken. Elizabeth didn't ride horses, and her father is of the lower gentry, which means that the same horses which pull the carriage also work in the fields, and thus the carriage is not always available. Even when it is available, she's one of five daughters. If her dad or mom wants it, they get it; if she or her sisters want it, they have to argue over who gets it. And riding in a carriage was jolting and unpleasant (bad roads and no shock absorbers). So Elizabeth, like many members of the country lower gentry, often walks when she wants to go visit her neighbors.

Then there's the "alone" part. Everyone can quote "six inches deep in mud" but we forget that part of what shocks Miss Bingley is that Elizabeth walked by herself. In Regency England, the more wealth and status a woman's family had, the less often she would be alone. And again, big difference between the city and the country. In the city, a woman of Elizabeth's family status would never go anywhere alone. Either she'd have a female relative with her, or a friend or chaperone, or a servant. For protection, and also to vouch for her propriety. In the country ... as long as she's going to visit another woman, or just going out to walk for the exercise, and she's not going too far, nobody bats an eyelash. This is true both at Longbourn and also at Hunsford. If she were wealthier, that would not necessarily be the case; both Georgiana Darcy and Anne de Bourgh have companions who are paid to go where their mistress goes. So it's not just that Elizabeth is walking that shows the difference between town and country manners, it's also that she's walking alone.

Miss Bingley is criticizing Elizabeth in particular, but she is also criticizing her class, as a way of asserting both that the Bingleys have better manners than country gentry (despite their money coming from trade), and by appealing to Mr. Darcy about it she is also positioning herself as closer to his sphere and manners than to anyone else's.

Then we come to the question of how much does Darcy judge Elizabeth's actions. Mr. Darcy says he wouldn't want Georgiana to do what Elizabeth has done (walk three miles alone through muddy fields), but there's a big difference between the upper gentry and the lower gentry. Georgiana probably has her own horse, and she's much less likely to have to worry about whether the carriage horses are needed on the farm, and also she has someone who is literally paid to go with her everywhere. Also, Georgiana is sixteen years old, has already been targeted by a fortune hunter, and is very shy and timid. So the fact that he wouldn't want Georgiana to do it doesn't mean he necessarily sees it as a big deal when Elizabeth (older, not as wealthy*) does it.

*People sometimes claim the Bennets were either poor or middle class. They were at the bottom of the gentry, but that is still quite wealthy. Mr. Bennet has an income of £2,000/year, which is peanuts compared to Darcy. However, let us compare them to other people in their day. William and Dorothy Wordsworth spent the 1790s with an income of about £170-£180/year, with reasonable comfort. P&P was written in 1796-1797, so about the same time.

[daydreamingleclerc]

his favorite; mick schumacher

mick's new girlfriend is witty, funny, gorgeous and isn't afraid of internet trolls.

includes; suggestive content, plus-size!reader, fatphobia. please do not read if that is triggering for you.

f1wagcentral

likes are limited on this post.

f1wagcentral new WAG alert?? Mick Schumacher and his reported new girlfriend, Y/N L/N, family friend of George Russell, snuck off for some time alone at the Emilia Romagna GP after the second practice session on Friday, where Mick eased through and came out P2. George Russell is recovering from emergency surgery and so Mick has taken his place in the car for the foreseeable. She’s been seen around the paddock for the last few races, and according to sources the couple are 'smitten'. judging by these pictures we've acquired, our sources are absolutely right.

comments on this post are limited.

yn ew look how happy i am.. cannot believe a man is making me feel this way thats so embarrassing

f1wagcentral so it's true?

yn side eye...

schumisgirl why does she look fat

yn bc she is. its me.. hi <3

yn p.s... can i take ur instagram handle <3

hamiltonschumi mick's new girlfriend firing back at trolls is officially my favourite thing ever

yn thanks! if i'm not everybody's favourite wag by the end of the month im filing for a restraining order <3

yn✔️

italy

liked by mickschumacher, lilymhe and 927,729 others

yn save a horse… ride a cowboy… take their hat & strike a pose

view all 745,920 comments

georgerussell63 who’s the cowboy?

yn i'd keep away from socials for a while georgie xx

mickschumacher hats mine. boots are mine. girls mine… what more could i need?

yn another ride?

mickschumacher make sure you wear this tonight 🤪

gaslysweater NOT YOU MAKING MICK HORNY ON MAIN

yn it's my specialty <3

hamiltonsmerc is she really detailing her sex life with mick on instagram...

yn don't act like you wouldn't if you were me bc you'd be lying

schumacherfan342 why's mick's new gf fat lol

yn i've got a fat ass & big tits and it drives my man crazy

schumacherfan342 did i really need to know that?

yn no! but you commented unnecessary shit so i thought i'd do the same <3

mickschumacher✔️

paris

liked by yn, lewishamilton, jackdoohan and 1,674,503 others

mickschumacher always making sure she knows how much i love her.

tagged: yn

view all 324,473 comments

schumiii364 she probably weighs a ton HAHA i'm surprised you can lift her mick 😂

yn there’s a reason mick’s muscly now and it's so he could carry my fat ass around, stay jealous bb x

mickandyn you two are so cute

georgerussell63 should've thrown her in the river

mickschumacher she made fun of my haircut so i definitely thought about it

pierregasly does the photpgrapher not get credits ?????

yn idk.. he was a bit weird.. kept speaking about me to my boyfriend in french, i think he fancied me :/

pierregasly stop with that man 😹

yn it's okay, i fancy his girlfriend so we're even

francisca.cgomes i fancy you too xx

yn✔️

monaco

liked by mickschumacher, itselenaberri, yukitsunoda15 and 983,647 others

yn my jaw aches

tagged: mickschumacher

view all 163,483 comments

mickschumacher not the only thing that aches today

yn you suck

mickschumacher no, baby. you suck 😉

georgerussell63 can we not have one singular day of peace on this app

yn i thought i told you to stay away from social media george

lewishamilton you two are the absolute worst

yn says the kink king himself x

lewishamilton keep your voice down 😂

yn make me

hamiltonsleclerc yn you’re SO real

yn i told you guys i wanted to be everyone’s favourite wag xx

pierregasly can’t take you two anywhere

yn you literally admitted ur fave sex position on instagram don’t even try me

mickschumacher ✔️

monaco

liked by yn, pierregasly, estebanocon and 2,281,927 others

mickschumacher i was far more interested in her than the sunset

view all 234,712 comments

yn don't lie. you were more interested in my arse

mickschumacher that's what i said, isn't it??

jackdoohan mick, you’re turning into a yn fan account at this point

yn good i love it when men worship me

mickschumacher false ! she forces me to post these pictures !

yn nobodies believing that baby

danielslando yn is proof that girls with a fat ass and big tits get their mans WHIPPED

totosangels it’s SO refreshing to see a wag who’s not stick thin i am so obsessed w yn everyone say thank you mick schumacher

francisca.cgomes i am looking respectfully

yn look disrespectfully. i don’t care

pierregasly i do thats my girlfriend

yn mhm we’ll see about that

ynandmickfan1 yn being bisexual and trying to hit on other drivers girlfriends in the comments of her own boyfriends post is so funny 😭😭😭

mercedesamgf1 ✔️

spain

liked by ginaschumacher, mickschumacher, yn and 1,273,027 others

mercedesamgf1 that p2 feeling in spain!

tagged: mickschumacher

view all 645,283 comments

mickschumacher thank you for putting your trust in me, team! so glad i managed to bring it home alongside lewis 🤩

yn well done my mickie. so proud of you i could explode 🥰

ginaschumacher mick!!!! thats my baby brother!!!

micksdaniel yn really commented MY MICKIE ???? guys i’m crying fr

lewishamilton an expert drive, well done mick! 🥳

yn because you won and mick came second does this mean i get to be in a mercedes sandwich

mickschumacher lewis for the sake of my relationship don’t answer that question.

leclercsainz HA fuck you haas

yn so real queen say it LOUDER !!!!!

georgerussell63 well done mick! thank you for driving my car expertly while i’ve been sick. you’re a dream!

mickschumacher✔️

spain

liked by yn, lewishamilton, zhougyanu and 2,289,009 others

mickschumacher kisses in spain 🤍

view all 321,682 comments

yn i’m only kissing u bc of that trophy 🤍

mickschumacher love you too x

schumi0437 cringe 😹😹😹😹😹😹

yn jealousy is a disease babe x

ginaschumacher 🥹🥹 the cutest ever

mickschumacher ❤️

leclercmick half expected mick to post one of yn’s nude’s in celebration

yn that wouldve broken the internet have you seen my ass

kevinmagnussen all you two ever do is kiss

mickschumacher would you like one 😂

yn✔️

spain

liked by mickschumacher, lewishamilton, carlossainz55 and 2,010,038 others

yn mick’s pretty good behind the camera x

view all 636,929 comments

mickschumacher mick’s pretty good at other things too fyi x

yn acting like i don’t know that 😹😹

mickschumacher so you admit it?

yn yes.

ynandmickfan the fact that if you scroll through 99% of yn’s instagram mick has liked every single picture that’s true love 🥹

yn he just loves looking at my tits

charlesfan28193 shagging mick but every other driver on the grid is liking ur posts 🤣🤣🤣🤣🤣 slag

yn i’m sure charles would LOVE to know how you treat his friends. tpwk girlie x

hamiltonschumacher TPWK ?!? YN IS A HARRIE CONFIRMED ?

yn girl. i live breathe and EAT harry styles

ynlookbook swiftie??

yn i am a child of divorce !!!!!!

[nerd-fandom-drabbles]

A Special Kind of Stupid pt. I

Description: While returning home from a mission, Lucanis sticks his whole foot in his mouth. Part 2 is here.

443 words

Characters: Lucanis, non-descript femme Rook, Neve, Spite

Pairings: Lucanis x Rook (sorta, they'll get there eventually, those crazy kids!)

Genre: Romance

Content warnings: none

WARNING: This contains some very, very light spoilers for Veilguard pre-release gameplay footage.

Written pre-release, so could be OOC.

“Doesn't the name Lucanis mean 'wolf' in some languages?” Rook asked one day as her small field team travelled through the countryside. They were on their way back from a quest to collect information on recent Venatori sightings in a nearby village, tired and weary from battle.

“Ah, yes… it does,” He replied, keeping his mount steady, “I was rather hoping no one would notice.”

“Why not?”

“These are suspicious times. And given that our enemy goes by the Dread Wolf, the coincidence may be too much for some to overlook.”

“Are you telling me that I should keep a closer eye on you?” She asked, her tone playful.

“Hardly. Your eyes linger more than enough already.” He caught himself and quickly backtracked, “Uh, not that I mind.”

Why did I just say that? He thought, an internal cringe threatening to work its way out of his body.

He hadn't meant to imply that she was annoying him. He had merely noticed that she spent much of their time together looking at him. Short glances when she thought he couldn't see. Sometimes longer ones. How could he not notice, when A) he found himself doing the same and B) he had Spite in the background commenting about it all the time?

“What?” Rook whipped her head around, turning bright red. She turned to Neve and whisper-shouted over her hart's antlers, “Is that true?”

Neve merely shrugged and pretended to spot something worth looking at on the gloomy evening horizon.

“Spite has been giving me a bit of a hard time about it,” Lucanis noted, a hint of apology in his voice.

“Gosh. I am so sorry. I-I'm just… looking out for you, I swear.” Rook stammered a bit, clearly totally humiliated, “I will watch where I rest my eyes in the future.”

His stomach felt hot with guilt. He needed to salvage this. Something subtle, but that would make it clear that she was not at all unwelcome. How?

“You don't have to do that.” He struggled with his words, “It is… something I am pleased to endure.”

“Spite's chiding or the staring?” Neve asked with a dryness that only she could muster.

“Uh… both?” Lucanis said, feeling suddenly quite hot in his leathers.

“Oh?” A moment passed and Rook's red face somehow turned even redder, “Oh.”

“You're a special kind of stupid," Spite said, from his spot floating nearby.

You think I don't know that by now? Lucanis thought to himself.

In response, Lucanis merely urged his horse on, accelerating slightly so he could ride beside Rook. They shared a sideways glance and an awkward little laugh before continuing the ride ahead.

[sordidmusings]

Halloween in One Piece

Was blabbing at @schoute about Halloween in the OP Universe since she's doing some Halloween sketches for funsies! I'm working a little bit on a tiny One Piece haunted house AU thing (also for funsies) but this got me thinking of what would Halloween be like in the One Piece universe?

And I think it would be the most possible fun - different sections of the seas have their different traditions and takes on the thin veil holiday. Some traditions vary island to island. A lot of it depends on how much movement/intermingling there is between the locations so each of the four seas has an overarching set of traditions with variation based on island but the Grand Line is WILDLY different from place to place

Kids argue over which island to visit to get the best candy, young adults argue over which place has the craziest celebrations, and even full fledged adults try to argue which place's festivals are best. Those same kids arguing for candy also gripe about how lucky pirates and marines are to be able to hop down the shoreline or head to the lands with the biggest celebrations

Also love the idea that you may end up getting more than you bargained for or taken for a wild ride if you don't check the celebrations of the land you end up on during Halloween. Imagine a place with something similar to The Mari Lwyd, but for Halloween instead of Yuletide. You've settled at a new island and are all set to welcome some trick or treaters just like you loved at your old island. There's a knock at the door and you run over, bowl of candy in hand. The cloaked person with the horse skull is taller than you expected but maybe on this island it's normal for adults to trick or treat too, you're not one to judge. But then they start spouting riddles at you. You try to answer but they keep coming. You're accosted for quite some time, not knowing that giving them some liquor will send them away. (This happens to be a favored tradition of Shanks and he often tries to be in the area so he gets to be the dude who hassles people til liquor happens)

Also the rumors kids would have about the mythical goods and traditions on the Grand Line!!!!! "I hear there's a whole island where the dead come back for Halloween to steal the living back with them!" "That's nothing - I heard about a crazy giant lady with an island made completely out of candy, but if you fo there she'll just use it to fatten you up and eat you instead!" "No way that's real, you're a liar!!" "Nuh-UH my uncle's in the marines and he swears it's true!"

And since Schoute asked about costumes-

I bet it depends on the island/sea!! Some plaes are big into costumes and look at you funny without them while others only specific people wear them or maybe it's just masks or paint or veils. Some places are more like Carnival in Italy or have city wide masquerade, some are like gamelan parades or Surva (thank you @click-and-flash-pest-captures for telling me about the latter 🤍) to scare away evil spirits so only people performing would be in full costume. Some are like the US costume tradition where you dress up as whatever you want - there's trends of characters and vibes of costume (long live the unhinged slutty costumes 🙏🏻) but it doesn't necessarily have to be scary. Or maybe within the area of the seas that are like that, some islands its the scarier the better and you better not set a single foot on that island if you're not ready to have the piss scared outta you. Whole thing is basically one haunted house and used as a test of courage. Rumors always spread of what you win if you make it past all the scares and traps to the island's center, but they also say no one's ever actually made it.

Ok but also the brothels of port towns that there DEFINITELY are (you cannot convince me otherwise, there's too much money to be made doing that in this world) going HAM for Halloween to entice customers. More pious lands using that fact to prove that the holiday is for degenerates.

Also on that note - despite the Celestial Dragons and their ilk being the richest they'd have the WORST Halloweens cuz they wouldnt understand actual fun if it bit them in the ass. Who needs a city's worth of candy bars over the joy of dressing up and goofing off with your friends or taking your kids out or anything else you could imagine. Their Halloween is cold and sterile and materialistic. Boo to them - they wouldn't be able to handle even a single mischief night 😤

OML I would pay all the money to just have an episode of ASL participating in mischief knight or or or young Shanks and Buggy (who get caught by Rayleigh and brought to Roger, who only encourages them and teaches them better pranks and tricks. Little did they know that was Rayleigh's intention all along). Also with mischief night, none of that pumpkin smashing shit - our boys are better than that 👏🏻👏🏻👏🏻 (maybe not some of the other ones tho. lookin at you, Kid)

Tentative tags: @gingernut1314 @writingmysanity @hey-august @haveatthee83 @feral-artistry @mytanuki-kun @discordantwritings

[lucky-clover-gazette]

prince's gambit highlights & annotations

chapter 14

indented text is from the book. some quotes have commentary, some do not. some comments are serious, and some are definitely not. most of them will only make sense to people who have read the series. and, like, there are spoilers. so please read the books first if you're interested!

also: part of the reason i'm doing such a close reading is to study cs pacat's style, especially in terms of how she does romance and erotica. there are "craft notes" that might seem weird, like i'm being redundant or restating something rather than analyzing, but those are more things that i want to remember/take away from the writing!

i'm going to tag these longer posts with "sam reads capri" in case anyone wants to read them all at once.

this is a google doc i wrote with overall content warnings for the captive prince series. it's not perfect, but i do think it's important to include.

No Laurent. All signs of recent occupancy had been a handspan away from his own body, suggesting a night spent in close but not transgressive proximity: some kind of self-preservation had apparently prevented Damen from rolling inward during the night; from throwing his arm over Laurent’s torso and drawing them together to make the small tent seem larger than it was. As a result, Damen was in possession of all his limbs, and even had his clothing restored to him. Thank you, Laurent.

The embroidery came later, in the retelling, as the story was told again and again by the men, taking on its own character as it passed over camp. The Prince had ridden out, with only one soldier. Deep in the mountains, he had chased down the rats responsible for these killings. Had ripped them out of their hiding holes and fought them, thirty to one, at least. Had brought them back thrashed, lashed and subdued. That was their Prince for you, a twisty, vicious fiend who you should never, ever cross, unless you wanted your gullet handed to you on a platter. Why, he once rode a horse to death just to beat Torveld of Patras to the mark.

like how this ironic misunderstanding of the events is similar to how damen viewed laurent in book 1 and some of book 2. except now he gets the irony

He looked at Laurent’s tent of silks, the pennants unfurled in the breeze, their starbursts undulating. The distant voices of the men swelled briefly, then dropped away. It would not be like this. It would be a systematic campaign moving southwards towards Ios, building on the support he had from the kyroi factions. He would not be stealing out of camp at night to spin mad plans, to dress in unfamiliar clothes and forge alliances with rogue clans, or to fight alongside pony-riding warriors, capturing bandits improbably in the mountains. It would not be like this again.

:(

‘Keep the prisoners alive, keep the women on side, keep my men from the women,’ said Laurent, as though reciting from a checklist. ‘Come over here and talk geography.’ He came as he was bid, and took a seat opposite Laurent, across the map.

they’re so cute i can’t stand them. “come over here and talk geography” SHUT UP

Laurent did not tend to show any of the usual outward signs of fatigue. The control that he asserted and maintained over the troop was an extension of the control with which he ruled himself. A few tells existed. The words, perhaps.

“the words, perhaps” is such a funny line here. because like yeah no shit, but also how is damen supposed to know when laurent’s words actually reflect his true feelings?

Instinctively, Damen brought his hand up to squeeze Laurent’s shoulder gently—and then stopped. Laurent went very still, as Damen became aware of what he had just done, and that his grip was still on Laurent’s shoulder. He felt the locked muscles like hard wood beneath his hand. ‘Stiff?’ said Damen, casually. ‘A little,’ said Laurent, after a moment in which Damen’s heart knocked twice against the inside of his chest.

one thing i really appreciate about capri is the way that laurent is written, as a character with trauma/baggage who experiences intimacy in a way you wouldn’t expect from the love interest in a romance novel. he doesn’t make anything easy, for himself or for damen. his physical and mental reactions to things are very telling and consistent, and i appreciate pacat’s commitment to honoring that aspect of the character. that way it’s so much more rewarding when we finally see laurent let go of control and experience love that doesn’t hurt him.

i won’t do an official count for “laurent intimacy issues,” since it’s not nearly as clear-cut as “laurent leans,” but if there’s something that strikes this chord with me, i do want to make note of it. just… stuff that i personally appreciate, especially from a love interest in a romance novel, whose whole narrative job—one would expect—is to love the protagonist and have hot sex. but sensitive and traumatized people deserve love and intimacy, too, at their own pace and on their own terms. and laurent has a lot more going on than what damen perceives, or what the romance genre dictates. it’s nice to point out little moments where his issues affect his physical and emotional reactions, because it’s nice to know that those moments 1) exist and 2) don’t make him any less of a romantic lead.

He applied a gentle pressure with his thumbs. He said, ‘You brought me ice, last night.’ ‘This,’ said Laurent, ‘is a little more—’ It was a word of sharp points: ‘—intimate,’ he said, ‘than ice.’ ‘Too intimate?’ Damen said. Slowly, he was kneading Laurent’s shoulders. He did not usually think of himself as someone with suicidal impulses. Laurent did not relax at all, just stood unmoving. And then, at the apsis of his thumbs, a muscle shifted beneath pressure, unlocking a sequence all the way down Laurent’s back. Laurent said, unwillingly, ‘I . . . There.’ ‘Here?’ ‘Yes.’

a lot going on here! made even more complicated by damen’s pov!

damen takes physical intimacy much less seriously than laurent. prior to book 1, he has always enjoyed willing and enthusiastic partners (some of whom were conditioned into that enthusiasm, but we’ll deal with that later), and to him, sex is not a means of abuse or power. prior to book 1, intimacy was never used to disempower damen. laurent, obviously, is very different. pretty much all he knows of intimacy is abuse and disempowerment.

so, being aware of laurent’s trauma and also being fairly perceptive of the signs pointing towards it, i can see here that laurent is fighting a massive battle with himself. because, like, he does want this. but he doesn’t want to want this, because this is something he doesn’t have control over. the fact that he doesn’t throw damen off, and even explicitly asks him to massage a certain spot, is a demonstration of vulnerability that damen doesn't really understand.

which isn't bad or wrong of him, at all! if he did understand more about laurent’s trauma and responses, he’d almost certainly be less confident with initiating intimacy, which is something laurent needs from a partner. it's a lot harder when they're both completely terrified (which damen is, in a different way, but lesser so.) damen is afraid that laurent will bite his head off because he’s a bitch, not because he’s traumatized. and i think that’s a good place for them to be, at this stage of their relationship.

also, the “suicidal impulses” quip is great.

He felt Laurent subtly give himself up to his hands; yet as with a man closing his eyes on the edge of a cliff, it was an act of continuous tension, not surrender.

yeah

‘Like this?’ ‘Yes.’

“he likes that. do it harder.”

Laurent’s head had dropped forward a little. Damen had no idea what he was doing. He was distantly aware that he had had his hands on Laurent’s body once before, and couldn’t believe it, because it felt so impossible now; yet that moment felt connected to this one, even if only in contrast, his current caution against the unguarded way he had let his hands slide down over Laurent’s wet skin.

damen, meanwhile, has recently developed his own intimacy issues/trauma in book 1. these two are a mess

‘Is it so hard to relax?’ said Damen, quietly.

YEAH. IT IS.

‘You only have to walk outside to see what you’ve accomplished. Those men are yours.’ He didn’t pay attention to the signs, the slight stiffening. ‘Whatever happens tomorrow, you’ve done more than anyone could—’ ‘That’s enough,’ said Laurent, pushing himself away unexpectedly.

damen he’s not stressed bc of the war stuff, he’s stressed bc another human being is showing him physical affection and he actually wants it to be happening

When Laurent turned to face him, his eyes were dark. His lips were parted uncertainly. He had lifted his hand to his own shoulder, as though chasing a ghost touch there. He did not look exactly relaxed, but the movement did look a little easier. As if realising that, Laurent said, almost awkwardly, ‘Thank you.’ And then, in wry acknowledgement: ‘Getting tied up leaves an impression. I didn’t realise being captured was so uncomfortable.’

ohhhhh my god. oh my god. so fucking real, every line is so fucking real. the relief of no longer being touched, being back in control. the fuckin, phantom touch on the shoulder—an assessment of the massage, yes, but also… whose ghost is it? damen isn’t asking that question, but i am, and it’s sad. and then the awkward thanks, and the immediate snarky comment to follow up. it’s just so real.

‘I promise I’ll never tie you to the back of a horse,’ said Laurent. There was a pause in which Laurent’s mordant gaze was on him. ‘That’s right, I’m still captured,’ said Damen.

says the protagonist of the “captive prince” series

‘Your eyes say, “For now,”’ Laurent said. ‘Your eyes have always said, “For now.”’

ohhh this line is juicy. because like, yeah, there’s the melancholy yearning context of the last 10 or so chapters, but before? when they were enemies, when laurent was actively hurting and trying to disempower damen? even then, he never showed laurent submission. and laurent clearly noticed. they make me so crazyyyy

‘If you were a pet, I would have gifted you enough by now to buy out your contract, many times over.’

this is more a flaw in my understanding of the pet system, but is he saying that he’s done damen enough favors that if the favors were monetary he could afford to pay off his contract? that’s my best understanding of the line at this point.

‘I’d still be here,’ said Damen, ‘with you. I told you that I would see this border dispute through to its finish. Do you think I’d go back on my word?’ ‘No,’ said Laurent, almost as if he was realising it for the first time.

they drive me insane. the whole “suffering alone” theme—laurent is realizing that he hasn’t been suffering alone, lately, because damen is intentionally staying by his side. laurent may be great at strategic thinking, but he is so used to being manipulated and abused that he doesn’t even consider that someone could be genuinely devoted to him, as a person.

But I know you don’t like it. I remember how much it maddened you in the palace, to be bound and powerless. I felt yesterday how badly you wanted to hit someone.

another interesting re-contextualization of book 1! although it’s not quite an apology, bc i’m sure laurent was aware of the maddening and was probably like “good. this guy killed my brother”

Damen found he’d moved without realising it, his fingers lifting to touch the bruised edge of Laurent’s jaw. He said, ‘The man who did this to you.’ The words just came out. The warmth of skin under his fingers in that moment took all his attention, before he became aware that Laurent had jerked back and was staring at him, blue eyes huge with pupil. Damen was suddenly aware of how out of control he was—he felt—and called violently on his faculties to try to put a stop to—this. ‘I’m sorry. I . . . know better than that.’

“i know better than that” is an INSANE thing for him to say here, by the way. they’re both so compelled by each other and afraid of each other. the amount of work pacat has put into their arc/characterization so far means that scenes like these can have something going on between every single line. honestly i think there’s more going on here off the page, than there is on it

‘No. Wait. I . . . wait.’ Damen stopped, and turned. Laurent’s gaze was edged with indecipherable emotion, and his jaw was set at a new angle. The silence stretched out for such a long time that the words, when they came, were a shock. ‘What Govart said about my brother and I . . . it wasn’t true.’ ‘I never thought it was,’ said Damen, uneasily. ‘I mean that whatever . . . whatever taint exists in my family, Auguste was free of it.’ ‘Taint?’

fascinated by the possible reasons for laurent to say this, in this moment. he uses it on the page to then say that damen is a good and honorable person like auguste, so that’s the easy answer. but if he was just experiencing some ptsd flashbacks, i wonder if this is also something of a grounding statement for himself. because we know who he’s referring to, when he’s talking about bad people on his family tree. it’s almost like he’s trying to figure out how to frame this situation, more for himself than damen—laurent feels protected and cared for in this moment, and the last time he allowed himself to feel that way after auguste’s death, his uncle had taken advantage. so of course he’s picturing his uncle. but this statement, a reminder to himself that damen is more like auguste than the regent, and auguste would have never done anything with laurent in the way the regent had… augh. laurent your brain.

‘I wanted to tell you that, because you,’ said Laurent, as though he was forcing the words out, ‘You remind me of him. He was the best man I have ever known. You deserve to know that, as you deserve at least a fair . . . In Arles, I treated you with malice and cruelty. I will not insult you by attempting to atone for deeds with words, but I would not treat you that way again. I was angry. Angry, that isn’t the word.’ It was bitten off; a jagged silence followed.

this is a laurent apology! no “sorry” necessary. and he’s the closest to telling damen the truth as he’s ever been, but still he stops himself. i wonder if it’s partially out of shame, for how he treated damen. a refusal to make an excuse, because he understands the cruelty of his actions regardless. and of course he has cognitive dissonance to maintain and tactical reasons for keeping the lie going. but still, this is honest.

Then, with a return to his more usual tone, ‘And you don’t need to take watch,’ said Laurent. ‘You sleep prudently.’

of course he can’t just say, like, “sleep well” or “good night.” prudently means carefully, or in good judgment… so like, he’d wake up if something dangerous happened? laurent trusts that? i can’t tell if the statement is an observation or a command. it’s either, “[i want you to] sleep mindfully” or “you sleep mindfully [so you don’t need to stay awake on watch].” hmmm

Damen searched his face, but found nothing in it that he could read, which, he supposed, as he lifted his hands to the laces of his own jacket, was typical.

buddy there is so much subtext going on here it’s okay just get some rest

[yippeeometer]

Idk if these are considered rare pairs, but here are some of my fav rare pair ships :D

FlouiSconsin (FL/LA/WI)

FloYork

TexYork

Texas/Wyoming/Montana

*you don't have to answer any of these, please do not feel forced to :D*

gonna answer all of them try that on for size

FLOUISCONSIN:

u just know theyre the ones throwing the new years party and its literally insane. typa guys to craft a massive stone boulder so they can actually say the ball dropped on the new year. typa guys to be researching haunted things on ebay to make halloween parties realistic.

their nights out should be classed as an olympic sport. Yeah you may have won a gold medal for sprinting but 1000% 3 drunk guys being chased by a zoo animal they accidentally let escape are faster than you.

something tells me they'd be the scariest people to sit near. theyre always giggling. always watching. what can they possibly be talking about.

they own like 2 pairs of real shoes between all of them and then just various non matching crocs

since sconsin has to be soooo far from the other two they just constantly have him on facetime. all day. theyre joining in on midwest arguments they know nothing about. theyre tattling to the south as soon as any drama goes down.

FLOYORK:

they serve couple-that-isnt-divorced-but-should-be vibes. theyre SICKENING omg two of the most insane people youve ever met.

we dont play around enough w the true extent of flo's madness he'd probably fill york's room w rats bc he heard that he likes them and york, matching his freak perfectly, would find it romantic. everyone else looks on in horror.

flo turns up at northeast meetings like an in-law at family gatherings to watch the drama. he definitely has a twitter account called 'weird shit my husband's family has fought over'

two strange guys with strange passions for animals. theres a collection of gator-sized sweaters in their closet that york gives flo whenever they argue (frequently)

'youre a snowbird' 'youre a leaf peeper' have you considered youre insufferable.

TEXYORK:

i acc love this ship youre never alone when yippeeometer is at the shipyard

theyre gonna be a slow-burn but in the sense that york's natural way of speaking is in one-word sentences and texas (daddy issues galore) would instantly be freaked out. local northeast man now befuddled how his flirting is not being picked up on.

oh god theyre sooooo awkward around each other. southern hospitality vs 'i can f*cking do it myself' northeast. match made in hell. hate them. no one knows how to communicate but also its sooo not casual when he begged u to come down to his ranch so he could teach u horseback riding. was it casual when he stopped the whole 'more than a city' shtick bc he wanted to show ONLY u around.

abnormal behaviour galore.... daddy issues galore..... typa guys where theres two wolves inside them (must protect him) (ab to get soooo vulnerable around him)

TX/WY/MT

cowboys!

typa guys where their only way of flirting is through the medium of horses. this is my horse shes called angel. yeah she fast. want to ride my horse? no seriously you have to ride my horse. u can even wear my hat when u do it but its totally chill or whatever....

its actually not chill they all compete at rodeos against each other and they WILL make it ur problem when it ruins the relationship.

farmer men..... farmer men..... grrrrrr what a yeild of crops..... just got some cows...... u can see them if u want...... u can stay in my bed.....

montana would have such fun with mr. 'pay attention to me or i die' texas and mr. 'no one look at me or ill kill myself' wy. sat at the table trying to maintain eye contact constantly with one whilst completely ignoring the other to not make the whole relationship obvious (its the most obvious thing in the world.)

[stargirlie25]

(Got this from @acourtofthought)

This has me thinking.

Slightly.

I find it interesting the way Feyre worded this sentence or more accurately SJM.

While mentioning Elain mourning her life and lost love, she says that she silently gardens.

This makes me remember how Tamlin thought that if Feyre was painting she was safe,happy and content. Although that was not what she needed. She was in a dark place and she needed a friend. Someone to talk with her and help her through her problems.

With tamlin, i think he was waiting for feyre to return to ´´normal´´ and possibly vice versa. Without actually acknowledging her demons and sorting it through.

It seems to ME the Inner circle is doing the same thing with Elain.

Maybe after a period of time they would think Elain is perfectly okay considering she gardens and smiles.

We got a scene in acosf where Elain talks about her trauma:

Elain’s eyes brightened with pain. Something imploded in Nesta’s chest at that expression. She opened her mouth, as if it could somehow be undone. But Elain said, “I went into the Cauldron, too, you know. And it captured me. And yet somehow all you think of is what my trauma did to you.”

This is true. Although Nesta is not the only one to blame for this. Feyre said herself she is also to blame.

So two of the people who spent the most time with her and grew up with her do not even focus on the aftermaths of Elains trauma.

Then the rest of the IC sure as hell does not notice or do anything about it.

Members like Cass,Rhys,Mor,Az,Amren probably consider Elain as the sweet sister. Simply a pleasant person (what feyre said)Not actually a member of the Night court. Elain literally has to declare it.

I think it means something that Feyre in acomaf and Elain in acosf are highly similar for a reason.

Even though Feyre lacked experience and knowledge she still wanted to help and be apart of something in the SC.

Even though the Hewn City troubles her, Elain still chose to be a part of the job no one cared to offer. Its clear what she wants. She wants to do something bigger and greater than what she does now.

Like baking with nuala and cerridwen and gardening.

Of course she can still do that. Although i dont believe that is her full purpose. Like painting isnt feyre´s and reading isnt Nestas.

Feyre paints but she is the Highlady of her people. Something that makes her work which is actually what she wants.

Nesta reads but her purpose is to be a Valkyrie. Something she chose to be over an illyrian.

I dont think being a Seer is Elains full purpose either. Feyre and Nestas joy and purpose don´t come from their power. It actually comes from what they chose for themselves.

Maybe SJM is intending for Elain to find her purpose and branch out plus figuring out who she is and not to mix it up with who the night courts people are.

Alongside falling in love with someone who can 100% teach her things she didnt know and would be interested in.

What Lucien could teach Elain:

Making a fire

Catching fish with bare hands

Horse riding

Building a hideout

What Elain could teach Lucien:

How to bake/plant

how to do cute hairstyles

ELUCIENS GIVE ME MORE!

[littlecactiguy]

A short writing exercise on John Doe from Malevolent, roughly based on a short video from I want to say late last summer/fall where Harlan voiced over them doing a farming game (I think? It's been a while, but I'm fairly certain that was a thing. Anyway, it's been sitting as a draft that long).

Let me know what you think <3 I'm considering signing up for the big bang as a writer, but want to get a feel for this fandom space before I commit to anything.

.

Of the three horses in the pasture, only the one John himself has now learned to ride comes over at his approach to the fence. Arthur’s gelding’s ears rotate in his direction, but the creature doesn’t seem to consider John more important than his grazing. The big, old draft horse who came with the small farm, and is enjoying his retirement immensely, continues to enjoy both the sunlight and his nap.

John isn’t so self absorbed as to believe his mare has any specific allegiance to him. She’s a horse. She’s intelligent, but he’s not been convinced that she has the capacity to understand the finer points of reasoning on why she shouldn’t ally herself with a former horror from beyond human comprehension. She’s simply learned to associate him with certain things.

Slowly, John takes the apple he’d snatched from the kitchen table fruit bowl out of his pocket.

Like treats. Mostly treats.

John holds out his hand, the apple carefully balanced on his palm. His mare sniffs. Her whiskers tickle his hand. Then, she accepts the offering. The mare’s lips rub against John’s hand as she takes and crushes the apple between her powerful teeth.

It’s a strange sensation, but not an unpleasant one. John has found he rather likes it. Touching a fellow living creature, feeling its warmth and its life beneath his fingertips is…

It’s hard to describe. Despite his attempts to do so in a journal he has firmly told Arthur he’ll murder him for if he ever comes close to reading, John still doesn’t know how. His relationship to sensation while in Arthur’s body has become a hazy dream he can only half-remember, but the parts he does…

Those are…

They weren’t all bad, John often convinces himself. The cold and the chill, the empty, simply all haunt in a way warmth, true warmth, not the burning heat of freshly spilled blood, do not. It makes their memory sharper in his mind’s eye, easier to recall.

John’s mare steps closer, reaching her head over the fence to nuzzle at his pockets.

“I’m afraid that’s all I have today.” John strokes her mane. Focuses on the softness. Allows the thought of its comfort to wash the fragments of dark doubts back into the deep ocean from whence they came. “Arthur may have a point about too many treats, but we won’t tell him that, will we?”

This mare had never been afraid of John, or growled at him like various dogs he’d met, whose eyes told John they could see him in ways others could not. He’d attributed her lack of fear, at first, to her perhaps not being all that smart, but the mare has indicated otherwise (largely through pasture escape attempts, which John can’t truly fault her for, being able to go where you want when you want is quite nice).

He doesn’t believe she’d ally herself with him if she knew any better, but horses, even the dim ones, are also notoriously, instinctively, jumpy creatures.

John’s mare’s calm around him makes him feel something he refuses to put to words in fear it’ll be chased away.

Even if it’s only, obviously, most likely only due to the apples.

[cosmicwhoreo]

Childhood Home (WRITING DRABBLE)

Takes place a little after the events of "A Mermaid's Tale" where Crimson Coral Cookie has been leading her people and sisters across the ocean in search of a new home. But the trip has been long and arduous for them and they need a safe place to rest for a day... All the while the tired leader tries not to reflect on the events too hard... ____________________________________________________________ The seahorse huffed a small plume of bubbles, annoyed. A stark difference compared to the amused giggles of the little mermaid precariously riding atop it’s forehead. A little mermaid who had been there for well over half the trip because quote; “her fins were tired…!”.

It’s anger was only being just slightly quelled by the reassuring pats from its true rider. "Just a little longer, my friend… be patient with them."

And yet, even with Crimson Coral Cookie's naturally strong voice, both the seahorse and the little clownfish mermaid could hear just how tired their leader sounded.

The pod had been migrating for a long time now with little to no rest, all working diligently to keep in formation. Crimson Coral Cookie and her soldiers working extra hard to defend the remaining mermaids of their fallen kingdom from any predators or fishing nets.

But, even they were doing all they could just to stay awake.

Her brows furrowed, an uncomfortable weight forming in her stomach at the pitiful sight of her once proud people. Her soldiers… Her sisters…

How could she let this happen…?

"Crimson Coral Cookie…?"

Her attention was drawn back to the small mermaid, now fully facing her with a concerned expression.

The older mermaid's eyes softened to try and help reassure the child. "Do not fret over me, I am fine..."

This didn't seem to really convince them, but they thought better than to press the issue. "Okay, umm… then do we know exactly where we are going?"

Crimson Coral finally allowed herself to smile at the tiny question, feeling a small sense of playfulness push through the gloom. "You mean you don't recognize this path? Surely it hasn't been that long for you."

The little clownfish tilted her head like a confused puppy, before deciding to take a moment to actually take in their surroundings.

It was currently night time, so their general view wasn't the best. But, what she could make out were these impossibly bright bits of coral and seaweed poking out amidst the sandy terrain that seemed to get taller and taller around them. Gradually forming large, protective walls around the traveling pod the further they went in.

The chasm itself flourished with vibrant colors and busy marine life, to the point it nearly became overwhelming to the mermaids after the long travel of empty underwater sand dunes and deadly trenches.

The little mermaid gasped, her eyes lighting up with the scenery.

"Are we in–!?"

"-Yes, yes we are." Crimson Coral Cookie finished, amused at the giddy guppy who was now shaking their fins in poorly contained excitement. "So I ask that you behave yourself and treat our great Grand Reef Cookie with respect."

Her words seemed to echo throughout the halls of the colorful crevasse, a low murmur beginning to pick up amongst the mermaids and even a few of her soldiers behind her.

Some were happy to be back, ecstatic even. To so much as see something they recognized still intact despite everything they've all been through.

Others had felt it might be rude and disrespectful to intrude in such large quantities into this sacred atoll. Some even argued that it was borderline sacrilegious.

And the rest were far too tired to care about either… Just wanting to finally rest their fins somewhere safe after the long trip…

Crimson Coral Cookie couldn't help but relate to all parties in one way or another… but, she doubted their host would really be at all upset with the company. Quite the opposite, in fact.

The sound of her horse whinnying in annoyance at the clownfish practically using it’s head as a springboard drew her attention back to the front of the pod.

"GRAND REEF COOKIE!!" The child squealed. Soon followed by three other little ones zipping past Crimson Coral Cookie to practically tackle the large figure passively waiting by the undersea entrance to the reef.

He likely would've been found imposing in size, had he not had the colors of rainbow sherbet and the disposition of a manatee. His large arms, speckled in gold barnacles, swallowing up the little ones in an impressive hug as they all giggled.

"Ohoho! My, and how long has it been since I've seen you four, hmm?" Grand Reef Cookie chuckled, looking like he was struggling to properly greet the group as they all clung to him like remoras. "Haven't been giving your pod any trouble, have you?" He playfully raised an eyebrow, a faux stern expression that he struggled to keep as the children only continued to giggle. Sputtering out little "no"s and "maybe"s as Crimson Coral Cookie approached the group.

She bowed to him, greeting the large cookie with as much royal professionalism as if to a king. "Great Grand Reef Cookie, I apologize for intruding unannounced and with no forewarning. But we all needed a safe place to rest and recuperate before we can continue to travel again."

He immediately perked up at this, pleasantly surprised to see the red mermaid. And he likely would've greeted his child in a much more different and friendly manner had he not paused for a moment, confused by her wording.

"Recuperate?" He echoed, before finally looking behind her. 

The sight brought a deep, painful frown onto his face. His children have all come home, but they were worn, some injured. A few had even looked away from the large sea cookie in embarrassment or shame at his expression.

"Oh dear."

One more observant look down at the little ones cuddled up in his arms showed him just how tired they all were, one having already fallen asleep.

"Please," he said quietly, gently beckoning them to follow as he turned to walk back into the reef. "Come in, everyone." _____________________________________________________________

Ye, I wanted to write a bit of an idea of a pre-oilspill Grand Reef Cookie interacting with the mermaids... I mean, I got more idears for the specific "story" but I'll just leave you with this little spit of an intro for the time being that I wrote while bored. Maybe I'll write more, maybe not idk

[gemini-magic17]

Entanglement Chapter Eighteen

**Queen Raina's POV

Aiden never should have yelled at Ser Easton like that yesterday. Instead of blowing up at everyone he should be trying to remain calm and not alienate all the people around him. I went to check on Ser Easton and apologize for Aiden I went to his room. As I arrived I knocked on his door there was no answer and instead of leaving I opened the door. From first looks, I could see most of his stuff missing which included his clothes and riding gear. Noticing a note on the table I picked it up only to be saddened by the written words.

"Dear King Aiden,

You were right when you said it was my fault for letting the Princess disappear without a trace. My sole responsibility was to protect her and I couldn't even do that. Because of that, I have left to go in search of Y/n to bring her home. By the time you are reading this, I have already made my departure and will do my very best to bring her back to Tir Asleen.

Sincerely,

Ser Easton"

Covering my mouth from shock I dropped the piece of parchment and made my way to go find Aiden. I knew that Aiden would be in the council room as he has been in there since Y/n went missing. Bursting open the doors everyone turned to look at me with wide eyes.

"Aiden, Ser Easton has gone", I told him.

"What do you mean he has gone", he said leaning forward on the table.

"I mean he went looking for Y/n because he felt terrible that she went missing as though it was his fault."

"Well at least he is doing something."

"How can you be so caviler about this? Yes he feels terrible about what has happened but did you have to blame him for it", I exclaimed.

"He had one job one damn job that he couldn't do!"

"I look at you Aiden and I question where is the man I married", and with that, I left the room leaving him dumbfounded, and everyone shocked to their core.

**Boorman's POV

I can't stop thinking about the exchange between Willow and that man yesterday. He looked familiar but I couldn't place him but whatever conversation those two were having seemed intense. I figured it couldn't help to ask Willow who the man was after all. I grabbed a horse from the stables and made my way to Willow's home.

As I arrived I saw another horse tied to the wooden railing of his home. From what I could tell it was Kit's horse Chief, part of me wondered what she was doing here if she was leading a search party today. With a loud knock on the door I can hear Willow's voice from inside.

"Who is it", he asked.

"It's Boorman open up", I said. He opened the door and we exchanged greetings. It wasn't until I saw Kit that I could tell she was in bad shape. Part of me wondered why see she didn't even like the princess.

"Hey Kit how's it going", I could see her nervously biting her nails.

"How's it going, How's it going? Let me tell you how's it going. Y/n is missing and no one has seen her for days. Not knowing if she's okay and if she has been hurt or worse dead is making me lose my mind", she exclaimed and that I thought she started to lose it.

"God Kit", I said and turned to Willow.

"I need to ask you something and its about someone you were talking to yesterday", I told him.

"Who is the someone because I talked to a lot of people yesterday", he laughed.

"It was in the town square the guy had silver-colored shoulder length hair and he had a brown horse with him",

"Doesn't ring a bell sorry", I could tell he was lying and it was not just me it saw it as well.

"Are you talking about Ser Easton", she asked me.

"Is that who he is", I said.

"That is Y/n's guard. How do you know him Willow", Kit had her full attention on him now.

"I don't really know him he just asked for directions and he went on his merry way", he said.

"If that's true Willow why did I see you giving him a letter", I raised an eyebrow.

"I don't know what you are talking about you must be confused", he said trying to weasel his way out of this.

"Willow I can tell when you are lying so I'm going to ask you a question and you better be honest with me", Kit stated walking closer to Willow.

"Did that letter have anything to do with Y/n's disappearance", she asked and Willow went silent.

"Answer the question Willow", I said.

"So what if it did", when he said that Kit had an incredulous look on her face.

"Are you kidding me? What did it say", she asked and again he went silent.

"Did that letter say what happened to her? Where she is", she exclaimed.

"WILLOW", she yelled.

"YES! The letter contained where she was alright", and at that the fury that Kit's eyes held could light a room on fire.

"You know where she is", I asked and he nodded his head.

"Yes I do."

"Is she okay? Did she get hurt", Kit frantically asked.

"No, she is perfectly fine", and that confused us.

"If she is fine then where is she", I asked.

"Somewhere safe I can reassure you", he said.

"Willow so help me if you do not tell me where she is", Kit threatened.

"You will do what", he said and with that the look she had could kill someone where they stood.

"I will make sure to get it out of you one way or another so tell me where she is", she exclaimed and I have never been more scared of Kit than I have now.

"She is in Ancient Dristarya", and at those words Kit's face paled.

"You can't be serious why would she be there," Kit asked.

"No one would look for her there", he said.

"She went to the place that is deserted due to the fact that no one dares goes there."

"Yes, she figured it was the best place for people to leave her alone knowing no one would travel to that place", he said.

"Well, she was wrong because I'm going to get her", at that Kit stormed out of the home and left on her horse.

"You should have told her in the first place that you knew where Y/n was", I said and left to find Kit.

**Kit's POV

With the new information given to me by Willow, I raced back to the castle to pack my belongings to set out. As soon as I got back I dismounted Chief but before I could get inside I was stopped by Boorman.

"Kit what are you planning to do", he asked following me to my room.

"I'm getting what I needed gartering a ship and going to Dristarya", I said.

"You can't go alone."

"Then you can come with me but you better get your shit together and meet me by the docks tonight", I stated and I can see him battling with himself to decide if he should tag along.

"Fine", he said and then a thought popped into my head. Damn it I have to take Amara with me otherwise King Aiden would have my ass. Groaning I turned to Boorman and let him know the plan.

"I forgot that I have to bring Amara with us."

"Who is Amara", he asked.

"Y/n's best friend since childhood and a real bitch if you ask me", I said and he gave me this weird look.

"Why are you looking at me like that", I said.

"You sound jealous", he said with a laugh.

"What do I have to be jealous of? As far as I'm concerned she is nothing but a friend to Y/n."

"Right, like you were just friends with Jade."

**Amara's POV

I can't stand her ass! Where the fuck does Kit Tanthalos gets off on being a bitch to Y/n. She never did anything to her and she thinks that she can treat her like shit. If it was up to me I would have her head on a spike. At that precise moment, I came upon Kit and whoever she was talking to. I figured now would be the best time to discuss the search party considering we had to leave later today. Plus it was best to do this out in the open so that I don't end up killing.

"Kit I need to talk to you", I said and she turned to me and rolled her eyes.

"What a coincidence I need to talk to you too. It's about Y/n", she said.

"What about her"?

"I found out where she is and I plan on going there tonight" she stated.

"Oh really and were you planning on telling me about this", I asked.

"I'm telling you now aren't I", she smirked and I wanted to punch it right off her face.

"So where is she"?

"In Dristarya", and at that I laughed.

"Dristarya? Are you serious", I asked.

"A friend of mine received a letter from her explaining where she was", she said folding her arms. Not believing a word that came out of her mouth the man next to her spoke out.

"It's true he told me himself", he said.

"Who are you", I questioned.

"I'm Boorman and your name is", he asked.

"Amara Hartridge of Praisa", I said then turned to Kit.

"So we leave tonight that's a six-day journey to Dristarya we are going to need a ship", I said

"I got that covered you, Boorman and I will meet at seven", she said.

"He's coming with", I asked and she nodded her head.

"We have to leave then so the guards that King Aiden wanted us to take don't know that we have already left", she said.

"Why don't we want to take them with us? After all, it is Ancient Dristarya", I asked

"They would bring Y/n back kicking and screaming knowing that she is there. We want her to come back willingly not by force and knowing that she is safe there is something to be grateful for", she said.

**Time Skip (three days later) Ser Easton's POV

The journey had been painfully long and tiring. It almost took me an extra day to get here when the ship's captain found out my planned destination. The thought of coming close to Dristarya scared him shitless, and he gave me a boat large enough to carry my belongings to make it here. The sight of the castle was breathtaking its structure must have been excellent as it was still standing after thousands of years.

Arriving on the beach I carefully got out to push the boat the rest of the way on the sand. My boots soaking wet the sound they made as I walked could only be described as a sloshing sound. I decided to leave the belongings on the boat until I came face to face was the Princess. I made my ascent towards the large gates that lead to the trail. The gates haven't been opened in a long time which fits with why it looked so abandoned until now. As I walked along the stone trail toward the castle I was halfway way there I heard a loud screech. Walking a little further to where it had originated I was met by the sight of a red dragon with an unnaturally long neck.

It was only then that I recognized that it was Tyrax standing in front of me. I kept slinking forward which made me extremely cautious of my next move. Before I could do anything I saw a silhouette walking down the trail in my direction. Seeing that it was Y/n made me happy now knowing that she was in one piece seeing it with my own eyes. Tyrax kept a watch on me the entire time as she was moving to see if I was a threat to her. The smile that stretched across her face as she saw me warmed my heart.

"It is so good to see you", she said pulling me into a hug.

"It is good to see you too", I said reciprocating the hug. I pulled away just to take in the way she looked. Y/n seemed healthy and there was no physical damage that I could see.

"Ser Easton I am fine I promise", she said as she could tell what I was doing.

"I can't help it. Finding out you were here of all places made me very worried."

"I know it could make anyone worry especially about the rumors that circle this place", she said and we made our way to the castle.

"I know."

"How was your journey? Was it alright", she asked.

"It was somewhat fine", and she looked worried by that answer.

"It was just tiring was all and I had to row the rest of the way here on the sixth day", I stated.

"Why", she questioned with head tilt.

"When the captain of the ship I was on found out I was heading to Dristarya-"

"He told you he didn't want to come near this place and sent you on your way", she said.

"Yes", as we got closer to the castle I stopped in my tracks and it was only until Y/n didn't see me by her side anymore that she turned in my direction. The image in front of me made me speechless and Y/n had a small smile as she could see what I was astounded at. Four dragons flew around the castle while Calyx and what I could only assume was Aeras were sleeping not far from us.

"Come. I want to talk about what has been happening since I left", she said and we continued our way there.

The inside of the castle was magnificent the intricate details of what seemed to be dragons cared into the walls along with other aspects of culture that were only found in Ancient Dristarya. Y/n took us to a room that was filled with books, maps, and paintings.

"I came upon this room on my fourth day here. I think this castle's form of a library and the books they have are intriguing", she says and pulls a book off a shelf.

"I started reading this book on the history of Ancient Dristarya. They had no mention of this place in any book in my family's library", and she handed it to me. We took a seat at the table closest to the door and I flipped through some of the pages.

"It is quite an interesting book indeed Princess", I said and she smiled.

"I knew you would think so."

"So, I read what you said about the things that went on in Tir Asleen since I have been gone. How bad is it", she asked with her voice shaking.

"I'm not going to lie to you but your family is going mad over your disappearance. Rather I should say your father and your brother as I said in the letter wants to kill Kit. Your mother is heartbroken from what I can see. She tries to put on a brave front but I know that this is killing her", I said and she put her head in her hands.

"I never should have left. I have caused so much damage and pain to the ones I love. How could I do this to them", and she began to tear up.

"You were unhappy and hurt by that incessant girl. Going through what you have been through would make anyone want to flee", I said taking ahold of her hands.

"It's still not right. They will never forgive me for this", she stated.

"In time I know you will see them again and if I know anything about your family it is that they love you. They are your family and will understand why you left along with forgiving you for it."

I could see her mulling over my words in her head. The internal struggle that she was battling with was written all over her face. In time I just hope she can realize that she doesn't need to blame herself for all the pain she has been through.

[laurellerual]

Harrenhal during the Long Night

A few days ago I did this survey where I asked you "Where will the great battle against the White Walkers take place?". 56% of voters chose "In the North, the Wall, Winterfell", but I disagree. Here I explain why I am part of the 41% who voted "In the Riverlands, Harrenal, the Gods eye, the Trident".

Why in the Riverlands?

Let's start with: I think Winterfell will be destroyed, and definitively rebuilt only at the end of the books. So the place where the victory against the White Walkers will take place will be the Riverlands.

The Gods eye is one of the most important places for the Old Gods and the Children of the forest, we know Howland has been there I think Bran will have to go, it's a place that will become relevant to the White Walkers storyline. And it's not the only place in the Riverlands closely connected with the faith of the Old Gods - indeed, we have seen more of them here than in the North. There are: High heart with its circle of weirwood and its woods witch, the Hollow Hill where one-eyed Beric sits surrounded by weirwood roots, Raventree Hall, and Harrenhal whose building seems cursed by the gods and has a godswood big like a forest.

The conflict against the White Walkers will have to be a major event, relevant in the history of the Seven Kingdoms, so there is no way it will only involve the first northernmost castles. What repercussions would such an event have on the plot? No one would believe that the North has been attacked by creatures that everyone thinks don't exist: it would be as if it hadn't happened. The undead army must reach to at least the center of Westeros. An interesting foreshadowing is found in Daenerys III ASOS:

That night she dreamt that she was Rhaegar, riding to the Trident. But she was mounted on a dragon, not a horse. When she saw the Usurper's rebel host across the river they were armored all in ice, but she bathed them in dragonfire and they melted away like dew and turned the Trident into a torrent. Some small part of her knew that she was dreaming, but another part exulted. This is how it was meant to be.

Why will Harrenhal be important?

If the above turns out to be true, this means that a significant part of the people who inhabit the North and the Riverlands will find themselves fleeing to take refuge behind the first available walls. And as it happens, in the Riverlands there is a castle of immense proportions, mostly abandoned.

If you haven't read the chapters in which Harrenhal appears in a while, I recommend you review its architecture on the wiki (read the sections 'Walls and Towers' and 'Misc'). And then you come here and tell me that an immense place, with walls that cannot be passed through, a big pit, a great hall with more than thirty hearth, hot baths, kitchens as big as the great hall of Winterfell, and many acres of wood within the walls doesn't seem like the perfect description of a place where hundreds of people can take refuge to survive the apocalypse.

Harrenhal has impassable walls unless you have a dragon. The reason it fell so many times is that it was abandoned. Until now, fighting for the castle has been a waste of money for all the lords who have passed it. No one had enough people to guard all the gates, run all the fires, etc… not even using prisoners of war as slaves would have been enough.

But if refugees from half of the Seven Kingdoms were to occupy it, we would see those huge empty halls fill with life for the first time in centuries. Finally this cyclopean construction would make sense: it would become one of the main citadels of humanity.

Thanks for reading. If you want to find out why the other day while brushing my teeth I was struck by the brilliant intuition that Arya Stark might be the Lady of Harrenhal during the Long Night keep following me.