#While You Wait

[whileyouwait-dm]

5

Chapter 4

Introductions and considerations...

“Before we start on anything else, I would like you to meet my two Demon Warlords: Ekkehard and Bellator.  Then, this afternoon, we’ll have a meeting with all of the Demon Overlords who run the torture pits.  I’ll give you an overview of them first, so you will have an idea who is who in that meeting.”  Djall was kind of enjoying the way that Miriana was watching him intently, and he in turn was studying her and her reactions as he was talking.  He could tell from her expression that she was a bit overwhelmed, but she was nodding along. Good…good…she would do nicely for the role he had in mind, maybe more than one.

“I guess Hell doesn't have a training period, huh?” She laughed nervously as she looked up at him.  Overlords and Warlords and demons…oh my!  This was going to be her life now.

“Do you need a little hand-holding, Miriana?” Djall gently took one of her hands in his much larger and battle-scarred one and brought it up to lightly kiss the back. His dark eyes stayed firmly on her lighter ones, a smirk on his lips as well. The way her eyes widened and her lips slightly parted delighted him. He could hear her heart speed and her breath deepen.  Yes, he had a feeling that he'd miss her when she was gone, possibly acutely.

“Well, I..” She swallowed, fighting getting lost in his dark eyes and saying her true thoughts. “Well, you see..” She once more stumbled over her words.  Djall’s power and handsome looks made her stomach do funny things and her heart skip, neither of which she was used to.

As if sent from some deity to save her, a heavy knock sounded at the door. Miriana jumped, emitting a small squeak from being startled.  Djall’s hand tightened briefly on hers, as he chuckled, before he released it and turned towards the door.  “Come in, gentleman.  Miss Miriana is waiting to meet you.” His tone carried his amusement at her reaction and at his anticipation of when he met the two men who were waiting on the other side of the heavy wooden door.

When the door opened, two tall and imposing men entered Djall’s office.  The first was fair-haired with blue eyes that sparkled like finely cut blue topaz, and they were focused keenly on Miriana.  He was tall, broad-shouldered, with short-cropped hair, seemed to fill the whole doorway, and emitted an air that said he would be deadly if provoked.  The male that followed him put him to shame.  His shoulders completely filled the doorway, and while devastatingly handsome, he made Miriana take a step back, which had her back now flush against Djall.  A head taller than Djall, having to duck slightly to come through the door, Bellator’s tanned complexion was the same, his hair just as black, but he somehow beat him on the intimidation factor, which was quite a feat.  His entire presence spoke of him being a Warlord, and the fear that coursed through Miriana had her wanting to run from the room and cower.  However, there was also something about him that had her unable to tear her eyes away from his, that seemed to oscillate between a dark grey and brown, almost swirling.

Djall’s hand landed lightly at first on Miriana’s hip, not wanting to startle or scare her more than she already was, then slid around her waist.  That, at his touch, she leaned back into him, rather than pulling away, delighted him.  For some reason, he was enjoying having this human in his realm more than he would have originally anticipated, and he most definitely found her alluring.  Keeping himself from smudging her further was going to be a true test of his will. As Miriana pressed herself back against him further due to her fear of Bellator, a common reaction, Djall’s hand slid further across her midsection until he had his whole arm around her, holding her securely to him.  A pleased grin firmly in place at this. Yes, this little human was going to be interesting to have around.

“Miriana, these are my two warlords.  Ekkehard, normally known to me as Eike,” he gestured with his free hand, “and Bellator, or Tor,” again he gestured, and felt Miriana once more press back against him as she looked at the larger man.  “You will be working with them to help align their troops to their leadership style, possibly reorganizing their command structure as well..  Djall heard the shakiness of Miriana’s breath, and it caused him to chuckle.  Something about her being comfortable with him and fearing the others pleased him greatly.  He wanted the little human to be his alone while she was in his realm, an unusual bout of possessiveness. It was something he would have to reflect on later.

While Eike was paying little attention to Djall’s newest toy, Bellator was studying her closely.  A human soul, a CLEAN human soul, completely spotless and pure, had landed in their realm.  A fuck up in the algorithm? Or..or..was Djall missing something more important transpiring around them?  Djall assumed that the fuck up in the algorithm was responsible for her being in their realm, since it had sent the soul that was supposed to be in their realm to a paradise. If that had been the case, then the beauty before him should have been able to have where she should have currently easily identified.  The opposite happened, however.  What if, just maybe, she was where she was supposed to be?  Not a soul damned to their hell world, but a bride delivered to her groom?  Warlords and Lords of the Afterlife could only wed pure souls, and here was a pure soul in their realm.  Coincidence?  Maybe...but maybe not.  Djall might overlook it, but Bellator was not so quick to, and he was going to challenge his boss on it later, especially with the way it seemed Djall was already laying claim to the female, a claim he might be ready to challenge.

“Lady Miriana, tis a pleasure to meet you.  I am sorry if I have given you reason to feel intimidated.  I promise you that I mean you no harm, and no harm shall come to you when you are in my presence.  I fear that you have fallen victim to the aura I give off, which does affect many.”  Bellator greeted Miriana, bowing deeply.  His swirling eyes remained focused solely on her as he did, still gauging her reactions and studying her acutely.

“What the asshole next to me is trying to say is that he scares the fuck out of most people, and he’s sorry that you look like you’re about to pass out.  It’s a pleasure to meet you, Miriana, and we’re both looking forward to working with you. Both of us,” he elbowed Tor, “and our legions will always work to keep you safe from anything that tries to harm you while you are with Djall and us.”  Eike shook his head and rolled his eyes before bowing.  He was far less formal than Bellator, but he had a feeling that the other Warlord was up to something, something he hadn’t caught onto yet.  Yet. 

“Uh...thank you.  It’s a pleasure to meet both of you.  I hope I’m able to help both of you.”  Miriana’s voice was shaky, and her smile didn’t quite reach her eyes, but she was trying.  Djall’s arm around her waist, with his thumb gently caressing her side, did help quell her nerves somewhat.  When did they become so familiar?  She wasn’t sure, but it felt natural somehow, and she wasn’t going to argue with it. No matter what Tor said, he still scared her and she felt the need to run.

“I’m sure you’ll do just fine, Mir.” Djall shortened her name without even asking, simply because he wanted to and he liked the sound of it.  It made her his, and he liked making things his. He studied his Warlords before him.  Both were studying Miriana, which he expected.  What he hadn’t expected was the way Bellator was looking at her.  His expression was not one of curiosity regarding someone that would be a coworker, but rather he was looking at her as one might upon first meeting a prospective mate.  Something primal in Djall reacted to this, considering it almost a challenge against him, and a deep seated part of him felt the need to stake his claim on her even though it would permanently smudge her.

“When will we begin to work with Miriana?” Tor could see Djall reacting to him and Eike, the possessive and dominant part of their boss rising.  He had to wonder if their boss even realized what he was doing and the change in his stature since Tor had started studying the svelte female that Djall currently embraced.  Then there was the human, herself, and her reactions to Djall.  It all seemed to indicate that Miss Miriana was not there by accident.  However, that did not mean she was there for Djall. Tor was going to find out who exactly she was there for and if it was for only one of them.  A bride of Baratrum? Bellator was certain she was, but for whom?

Djall was fighting changing his mind about having her work with either Tor or Eike, and he didn’t know what was causing that.  This was, after all, his idea.  She couldn’t just follow him around all day, could she?  Suddenly, that idea appealed to him more than her working with the other men that worked for him. He had always been possessive of things that belonged to him; that had to be the problem. She was just a thing to him.  That was it.

“Djall?”  Miriana asked softly when he didn’t answer Bellator’s question.  Her head tipped to look up at him, her warm breath fanning across the skin of his throat, and the soft curls of her hair cascading across his hand that was holding her waist.  The combination of sensations pulled him reluctantly from his thoughts. “Sorry, I was contemplating how best that would be accomplished.” Djall lied to the three of them.  From the narrowing of Eike’s eyes, it was not a fully believed lie.  “You can begin immediately.  I think getting to know one another-” his hold on Miriana tightened, a wave of possessiveness he wouldn’t have been able to explain if he tried coming over him suddenly, “would probably be best before getting into troop assignments and legion divisions. Miriana is not to leave the mansion compound.  She is not to step foot outside for any reason.  Am. I. Understood?”

Eike’s brows drew together.  He understood but wondered why.  “Do you not trust us with her?   We wouldn’t let anything happen to her, Djall.  If you’re afraid of her running away or a kidnapping, we’d guard her with our lives, you know that.” He was not challenging Djall, but Tor was studying the human a bit too closely, and Djall was acting weird.  He seemed to be the only one not affected by whatever shift in dynamic was going on.

“She is not meant to be here, Eike.  Everything here can smudge her and damn her to our realm eternally.”  Djall sighed.  There were reasons he wouldn’t say, but he’d go with the easiest.  “She already has a smudge from where she got dropped originally before I got to her. I just wish for there not to be an accident that adds to it and for her not to be able to get to where she is supposed to be.” Again, he held her tighter for a moment, he was going to miss her when she was gone. Already, he could tell that allowing her to leave would not be easy and that wherever she went might require visits from him. What was wrong with him?

“You’re sure she is not meant to be here?” Bellator figured he might as well put it out there now.  His chin rose as he spoke; now, the challenge had been made.  He just waited for it to sink into Djall’s brain exactly what he meant by the question.

Djall opened his mouth to reply, then stopped.  At first, he had thought that Bellator meant that Miriana wasn’t pure, but then he realized there had to be more to his Warlord’s statement.  There was something he was missing, and Djall rarely missed anything.  For another moment, he turned over the question in his mind.  What could Tor mean that she was meant to be there?  How could she be meant to be there if she was pure, a virgin even?  Those weren’t sent to hell realm unless………...unless they were a bride for the Lord of the Afterlife or one of their Warlords.  His eyes met Bellator’s and widened. The smirk that Tor gave him meant that was exactly what his Warlord was insinuating.  

“We will talk later about this, Bellator.”  Djall’s voice was strained.  “You will follow my directives or face the consequences.” His eyes became hard.  “Do either of you have an issue with this?” He looked between his two Warlords, expecting an answer.

“No.” They answered in unison.

Djall looked down at Miriana, who was still looking up at him, confused.  His eyes softened significantly.  “You will be kept safe, Mir.  Don’t worry.  They will ensure you are as safe as if you were with me.”  He gave her a soft smile. “And Bellator just looks imposing, he would never hurt you.  Okay?” It was all he could do not to place a kiss on her forehead, a further indication that Tor possibly had a point.

Miriana nodded, knowing that there was something that Djall wasn’t saying.  Something that had to do with whatever Bellator had just said.  It scared her, but she had to trust Djall; he was the one that had saved her in the forest after all, and he had taken care of her so far without hurting her.  If he had meant her harm, he certainly could have done it before now.  

Reblog banner @cafekitsune

[tha-wrecka-stow]

Tank Discography

[cljordan-imperium]

LAST LINE TAG

I was tagged by the awesome @autumnalwalker who shared some of his Eldrich horror goodness HERE

I'm going to give you more than a line...a little sneak peak at @whileyouwait-dm

“I have a completely innocent female IN THE FOREST OF BEASTS?!” Djall almost roared at the information.  Of all of the places for her to land, the one that was the most violent and vicious.  Of course, because having her land someplace “safe” in Hell would be to easy when the pompous pricks upstairs fucked up.  Instead he was going to have to go find her before she was hurt and he had to put a bunch of pieces back together.  Had he fucked over some deity that he’d forgotten about?  He didn’t think so, but the day was sure shaping up that way.

Pushing on the armrests of his chair, Djall came to standing.  “I will be off finding this female.  Can you please find out who I’m supposed to call once I have her back here to the manor?  Getting her out of Hell promptly is, I'm sure, on the top of everyone’s agenda.  And, also, find out how the fuck this happened!”  He gave the demon a tight smile and teleported to the forest.  This was not going to be fun, and someone would definitely pay for the inconvenience later.

Softly tagging - @sam-glade @mjjune @cillmequick @talesofsorrowandofruin

@saltysupercomputer @blind-the-winds @aziz-reads @dreaminggoblin @pheita @writingmaidenwarrior @korblez @spookyceph @thebejeweledwatercat @toribookworm22

[wishfulsketching]

Girl dad Silco is a source of endless entertainment for me

Extra doodles:

Someone save Sevika, she is in hell

[iamkawiidino]

oh

my

GOODNESS

i completely forgot to post the link to Harnesser of Darkness here so here you guys go >:)

yes… i still have yet to finish the first full chapter… trust me i’m doing my best to cook though

[chamm0y]

in da clurb we all fam

aughhh i tried to fix the quality but,,, hmmm

anyways yay caravan palace!!

[biggest-gaudiest-patronuses]

hero/villain showdown but one of them has a spontaneous medical emergency and the battle gets put on hold while their archnemesis drives them to Urgent Care

[egophiliac]

hear me out

silver vanrouge ❌️

silver draconia ✔️

malleus beats lilia to the punch

[ghosted-jazz]

I hope they got that microwave in the break room

Bonus version with different outfit colours:

[batfamhastwitter]

Part 44! Fun fact, I actually am a natural ginger, but I have been able to gaslight a specific few people into thinking that I'm blonde and just dye it. They've thought that for at least two years at this point. I want to see how long it can go lmao

Prev ~ Beginning ~ Next

[whileyouwait-dm]

4

Chapter 3

A new day dawns...

The morning after her arrival, Miriana awoke and looked through the closet.  She was surprised to find a wide variety of clothing, and all of it in her size.  There were some that weren’t quite her style, but most of them seemed like something she could at least make work.  Shoes lined the floor as well, once more in sizes that would fit her.  The dressers contained everything else she’d need for outfits.  From the amount it looked like she was going to be Djall’s guest for a while.  She guessed if he was going to provide for her like this, it wouldn’t be all bad.  How he, or someone he’d hired, had known her sizes was a mystery, but then maybe when you are the Lord of Hell, somethings are just known.

After dressing in something comfortable, she opened the door to the hallway, and found herself facing a large and rather imposing male across the hall.  She guessed this was some kind of guard, meant to keep her from just wandering around in the mansion aimlessly.  “Good morning.” She attempted a smile, but wasn’t sure how convincing it was.  “Umm…I really don’t know where I’m supposed to go or what I’m supposed to do.  Are you supposed to take me somewhere, or is Djall going to show up?”  Her face scrunched up and her shoulders rose as she talked, her voice also a bit strained as she looked down both directions of the hallway before back at the man’s face.

This apparently amused him a bit, as he chuckled before answering.  “Miss Miriana, I can take you to Djall.  No worries.  You don’t have to be so nervous.  He’s let us all know you’re here, and to help you out while you are.  You may be in Hell, ma’am, but you’re in the boss’ house.  It’s a lot different in here than it is outside.”  He gave her a wink and slightly jerked his head in the direction they were going to go.  “Follow me.”

The guard’s manner made Miriana relax and she thanked him, with a far more genuine smile, before falling in line behind him.  They made their way through the beautiful mansion into what almost seemed like an office building from the way that it was decorated.  Her brow creased as she looked at everything.  Was Hell a corporation?  It kind of made sense. What could be worse than spending your life in a cube farm being endlessly tortured by customer service calls?  It was almost enough to make her shudder at just the thought.  Please don’t have him plan on making her work at a phone bank!

When they stopped at the end of the hallway, it wasn’t hard to tell that the office before her would be Djall’s.  The door was a dark and heavy wood, intricately carved with scrolls, fleur de lis, and faces of many kinds along with a handle that was shining brass.  It was stunning to look at and the detailing was exquisite.  It looked like something that would be more at home in a regal castle than in an austere corporate hallway.  Hell was certainly much different than she had expected.

The guard knocked and when Djall’s voice was heard from inside, the guard opened the door and gestured for her to enter.  As Miriana did, she was as awestruck by the interior of his office as she was the door.  It too could have been from some fairytale like castle rather than a corporate office.  Dark, intricately carved woods adorned everything, a spiral staircase in the corner led to a second floor, floor to ceiling bookcases, plush leather furniture set in seating areas, two small meeting tables with four and six chairs respectively, and at one end was Djall’s massive desk with a beautiful leather chair behind it. Behind that were the two story windows, the first floor in clear glass and the second in stained glass with nature scenes.  She almost forgot to walk down to where he was, she got so focused on taking all of the details of his office in.

“I’m going to assume that my office is to your liking?”  Djall asked with an amused smirk on his lips.  “Altaire, please have the kitchen send breakfast, coffee, and tea in now.” He nodded to the guard who returned the nod and left the room.

“I’ve never seen anything like this in real life.  I’m sorry if I’ve been rude.”  Miriana’s cheeks flamed a bright pink as she walked down to where he was still standing behind his desk at the other end of the room.  Her eyes couldn’t quite meet his, she felt embarrassed for being caught gaping at everything.  “Thank you for everything in my room, Djall.  I feel spoiled.  You really didn’t have to give me quite that much.”  The pink darkened and her eyes dropped to the floor, her smile did not falter a bit however.  

“You can continue to look around the room if you like, you’ll be spending quite a bit of time in here with me. That is, if you accept my offer.” Djall’s smirk did not fade either.  His eyes were keenly on her as her expression changed to one of surprise; and was that a touch of fear?  “And, you are welcome for all of your clothing and needs.  If there is anything missing or lacking, you have only but to ask.  It appears you will be here a while and I do want you to be most comfortable. Getting you what you want and need is not an issue.” Once more he was struck by her beauty, the way the morning light came streaming through the windows and made her light brown hair sparkle. Thankfully he did catch himself before he reached out and touched it, his hand lightly fisting at his side.

“Thank you.” She said again, feeling like her cheeks were on fire.  He was studying her, something people rarely did and it made her self conscious.  “What is it that you are offering that would keep me in your office?”  She decided to ask, since he hadn't elaborated and she felt a strong need to change the subject before she said something to embarrass herself.

“I am the Lord of Hell, which is just a fancy way of saying I’m the administrator.  I keep it running efficiently and make sure that we have no issues.  I’ve looked into your life on Earth.  You were very good at managing and assigning manpower.  I could use that skill.”  He gave her a smile, still studying every detail about her.  “Normally, the algorithm that decides where souls go after they die does not fuck up like it did with you.  Souls destined to be here are delivered to a holding area, and there is a meeting once a day where they are divided up amongst my Overlords for their eternal damnation and torture. Following so far?”

Miriana nodded.  “Sounds pretty logical.  So what is it that you would like me to do?” Her head cantered as she listened to him, taking in all the details.

“The Overlords are not always happy with my choices.  They end up having another meeting and discussing who they have been given and what they think should be done with them, then end up trading.  I have a lot on my plate with running an entire realm, and I would like you to become my assistant.  You will help me handle the Overlords and my two Warlords.  Determine their strengths and styles then assign the souls to the Overlords, new demons to the Warlords.  Do you think you can help me with that? Anything you need, anything at all, you can have it.  ” Djall’s brows rose as his head slightly tipped to the side.  He could already see her turning it over in her head.  Good.  Come on little human.

Spending the afterlife doing HR?  This was not exactly what she had anticipated, but there were worse things to do.  She was in Hell after all.  She’d be safe, she’d be in this amazing office, and she could ask Djall for anything she wanted.  There really wasn’t a downside that she was seeing.  “Okay, yes. I think that I can help with that.  I accept your offer.  You have yourself a new assistant.”  She gave him a smile, still a little unsure.  She was, after all, making a deal with the literal Devil.  Miriana didn't add that spending the day where she got to look at the hot Lord of Hell was also a nice bonus to the position.  She didn't want him to rescind the offer, or get angry with her for flirting.

“Splendid!”  Djall grinned as he snapped and a smaller version of his desk appeared perpendicular to his at one end.  A leather chair matching his but smaller was behind it.  A laptop appeared on top, but instead of an apple logo, there was a little demon head.  Miriana had to fight a laugh at the detail.  “There are office supplies in the desk, but if there is anything you need, we have an intranet page for ordering office things.  Also, Amazon delivers, you’ll already be logged into our account.  Feel free to order any hair and makeup things I didn’t think of or that you prefer a different kind.” He inclined his head, smirk firmly in place at her wide eyed look. “I prefer to gift jewelry myself..call it a personal touch.” He winked.

“This is all real, right?  I’m not just in a coma or something?”  Miriana asked, still feeling a bit disoriented by it all. 

Djall walked around the desk, standing before her, and taking her upper arms lightly in his hands before leaning his head down towards hers so he could look directly in her eyes.  “I know this is a lot to take in, but it is real.  You are dead. This is Hell.  And you are now Hell’s HBIC, my darling.  It will take a while to all sink in.  Unfortunately, you’re going to have a crash course in Hell life, because my job never stops.”  He gave her a reassuring smile as he inhaled the slight scent of her perfume that lingered from before she had come to his realm.  He was putting the scent to memory to order more for her, a personal gift.  There was a feeling in him that working with her was going to be a pleasure, and he might just miss her when she was gone. 

Miriana nodded, so far life in Hell didn’t seem too awfully bad, but then again she was the guest of the ruler, so she had a feeling that helped.  Blowing out a breath, “okay, where do we begin?’  She gave him a rather nervous smile and shrugged.  Might as well get started, after all, it wasn’t like she had any other plans.

“That’s my girl.”  He winked at her with a grin, and maybe a little flirtation.  Just a little though.  She was going to have to leave and nothing could happen between them, such a shame really.  He had a feeling that he was going to enjoy having her around, and having someone to keep him company and help with the workload would always be welcome.

[shotmrmiller]

sex pollen trope where you're the one affected, having been exposed to some dense gas while on an op that felt like harsh sandpaper across your throat and lungs, and now you're a feverish mess on some ratty cot in a safe house and with only ghost as company, it's miserable, as the saying goes.

hair sticking to your sweaty skin, plastered onto your forehead and neck, every swallow feeling like you've got a mouthful of sand, your fluttering pulse wild and deafening in your ears, and the throbbing ache deep in your core, the blistering heat right below your navel— it'd only been uncomfortable in the beginning, the faint throbbing incredibly familiar, but the more you ignored it, the worse it got.

and now you're here, with arousal sticking your underwear to your pussy, unable to do anything about it because your lieutenant is seated in a corner that lets him have both you and the front door within his line of sight. a quick, discreet rub under your clothes is not an option.

someone put you out of your foggy misery.

"squirmin' like a worm on a 'ook isn't gonna help." his staring doesn't either, yet he does it anyway.

"got to make sure ya aren't dyin' on me." you want to snap that you don't think proof of life is on the darkened stain between your legs, the retort pressed behind clenched teeth but another thick wave of bestial need rolls over you and god, you're about to shove your hand into your underwear, propriety be damned—

"best you don't do tha'." why the fuck not? "you'll only get relief for a moment 'fore it comes back twofold." he says as if he's reading off the morning paper and not watching you fight tooth and nail to not fuck yourself against the pillow your head is on. (soap's offer to be friends with benefits is only looking better by the hour.)

you hastily decide that it'll be better than nothing. you'll just have to rub your pussy raw until this drug runs its course and you're telling him to piss off or don't, but you've had enough. you're stuck here with him anyway, no flight home until the morn and you're not about to spend it writhing around.

"if tha's wha' you want," ghost bites his gloves off, spitting them out onto the ground before curling his hands around your ankles and dragging you toward him. "i will help." your entire world narrows down to the feel of him touching your skin, his fingers searing as they hook into the waistband of your pants, and you almost kick him in the mouth trying to get them off faster.

"but 'm not fuckin' you." the bite of disappointment is quickly forgotten, his breath warm against your slick pussy, and after three quick glides of his tongue over your pearl, your orgasm crests, pulse after pulse of pleasure so potent it stung.

in less than a minute you're burning again, need thrumming through you and with the heady push and drag of his middle finger over your sensitive nerves, curling in you until he can fit two, three—

you're lost.

(ghost telling you that he's not doing anything else because if he's going to fuck you then you're going to remember it falls on ringing ears.)

[lazylittledragon]

listen i need you to know that you can have the most ridiculous reasons to perform self care if it gets you to actually do it. i just became the owner of a beautiful floral floor length satin robe and if that's really all it's going to take for me to shower every day and do my skincare and brush my teeth then so be it

[cljordan-imperium]

Chapter for @whileyouwait-dm will be up as soon as I can get my next break to make the collage. This is the look Djall is giving me right now. He is not amused.

This one - who you're about to meet - oh, he is SO amused. So, so amused.

@saltysupercomputer @toribookworm22 @mama-ivy @jadeglas

@abalonetea @ashirisu @crowandmoonwriting @dreaming-goblin

@watermeezer @pheita @writingmaidenwarrior @whatwedointhecraft

@peakyswritings @jconstantines

[elodieunderglass]

And one amang, an Iyrysch man,

Uppone his hoby swyftly ran…

WAIT HANG ON - slamming the brakes on drawing this stupid picture - do you nerds even KNOW the etymology of the word “hobby”? The thing you do for pleasure? The thing you have too many of? The thing you spend too much money on and share with your friends? The thing tumblr probably is to you? Those hobbies?

It comes from a now-kind-of-extinct breed of Irish pony-horse. It was called the Irish Hobby. Supposedly the hobby got its name from the Gaelic word obann, or swift. They definitely were. They’d obann your pants clean off.

Fast tough little bastards, built for rough terrain and renowned for their speed and stamina, hobby horses belonged to the Celts, and their highly annoying style of mounted warfare. but their conquerors liked hobby horses a lot, kept them, used them for themselves, and found them useful enough, despite the fact that they also had famously useful things like mounted knights or horse archers. A lightweight Irish warrior, mounted on a hobby horse, was called a hobelar.

Reportedly and in depictions, hobelars rode without stirrups. Or saddles. Or bridles. Or - well - this is all sounding very improbable, because the hobelars COULDNT have just been charging around basically bare-assed on naked ponies, screaming, and somehow in the process undoing the composure of actual mounted armoured knights. Knights who, I remind you, had stirrups. Stirrups are useful! It’s quite likely the hobelars had some gear. And clothes. and weapons. And the ponies probably had some tack - I am picturing a bellyband that you could at least hang a saddlebag on, and a neck rope for catching the bloody thing, even if not a saddle. But the overall impression, somehow created by people on darling little ponies, was apparently quite striking and fearful.

I mean. God Forbid People Have Hobbies.

Anyway after a while, whatever people became the British had eventually conquered all of the rough terrain that hobbies were best at, and horse archers just got sexier, and mounted knights became aristos, and all the bog and forest people had been subdued, so it was time to sunset the hobelars. but WAIT! Hobby horses are still tremendously fun and appealing! They’re so fast! and you can ride them without a saddle! Sure, they’re not up to the weight of a mounted knight, or indeed a lot of guys… but surely we can still find a use for a hobby or two? In the back garden? Somewhere?

At which point an English king decided to keep hobby horses just for fun. No military application. No further development of the technology. Not for fun. Just as expensive, pleasurable, pets. Just for the joy of the thing.

And that is how hobby (activity done purely for pleasure) comes from hobby horse (small horse) possibly from obann (swift.) they’re very interesting and you should look all this up for yourself! because it sure sounds like Elodie doing a bit, doesn’t it?

Today, Irish Hobbies are functionally nonexistent. References for drawing include the Kerry Bog Pony, the Connemara, and (I personally think) Dartmoors and Exmoors. They’re said to have lent their speed to the Irish Hunter/Sport Horse and from there to the Thoroughbred, but every damn horse in the world claims relation to the Thoroughbred, and they can’t be THAT thoroughly bred.

At any rate - you can never have enough hobbies. Just be glad that yours aren’t expensive beasts with minds of their own, eating their heads off in the pasture! …Unless they are. In which case, you’re part of a proud tradition.

[hedalexa]

Oh you just finished reading The Locked Tomb? Congrats! Read it again. I’m so serious right now. Read. It. Again.