#i was laughing so hard when my horse died mid-air that i missed like 2-3 medium range shots on deadeye right after

[eclaire-went-bam]

bro wtf i loaded rdr2 & while in big valley, got attacked by a cougar. fair, i was in cougar territory. killed it. started heading up to the nearby trapper to sell the hide & carcass. on the way there, got mauled by a grizzly bear.

thought that was weird, bcs i thought the bear only spawned if the cougar wasn't there. shrugged it off. killed it. started going to trapper again.

sold cougar, went back to bear to skin it, BUT ANOTHER BEAR SPAWNED IN THE SAME PLACE & MAULED ME. oh btw both times my bolt action turned into a varmint after it mauled me ??

anyways i sell them. leave. IMMEDIATELY WHEN I GET ON THE PATH A PACK OF WOLVES SURROUND ME and right before i fire my first bullet BOUNTY HUNTERS SPAWN & THEY HEAR. i run, shoot the wolves, the bounty hunters try killing me so i kill them — MORE SPAWN IN THE SAME AREA ? and in the middle of it, my horse just fucking Levitated Straight Into The Air & Died Mid-Air before we both fell

finish off the hunters & revive my horse

& IMMEDIATELY AFTER WHILE I'M SKINNING THE WOLVES MORE SPAWN ???????

[nikanndros]

The Arranged Marriage AU Part 6 [Part 1, Part 2, Part 3, Part 4, Part 5]

Nikandros is a terrible husband, and so a few days later he gets caught up with some kind of meeting with Theomedes and the other Kyros, thus leaving Laurent to his own devices and without the attention he deserves.

“I can have one of the servants show you the library,” Nikandros offers, apologetically.

“I’ll show you around, Laurent,” Damianos says. “If you wouldn’t mind?”

Laurent is tempted to decline, except Damianos has been good company these past few days, and Laurent is eager to see more of Ios. “Alright,” Laurent says. And then Damianos turns to Nik, as if to gain his permission as well.

Nik is giving Damen a searching look. “If that’s what Laurent wants,” he says finally.

“Just us then,” Damianos says, after Nik has made his exit.

Those words shouldn’t inspire nerves in Laurent, and yet he’s suddenly very self aware. “It looks like it,” he says awkwardly. 

“Do you want to go for a ride?” Damen asks. “I want to show you the cliffs.”

-

The white cliffs of Ios are like nothing Laurent has ever seen before. It is a long way to the ocean from Arles, and Laurent had never been particularly interested in going as a child, when all the important things tended to happen in the capital anyway. Here, after they leave their horses to graze and walk out towards the ocean, Laurent realises that he has been missing something wonderful.

Damianos stands on the edge of the cliff, closes his eyes, and breathes the salty air into his lungs. He is smiling; he looks peacefully happy. The midday sun gives his skin a glow to it that makes him look both like an untouchable beauty, and also someone that needs to be touched to be believed.

“Isn’t it wonderful?” Damianos asks, after his eyes are open again.

“Yes,” Laurent replies honestly.

Damianos steps very close to the edge and looks down. “How high do you think we are?” he asks.

Laurent follows his lead, taking small steps to the edge and cursing his riding boots - that are heeled for stirrups and not precarious cliffs. Looking at the drop, he feels a little dizzy. “Too high,” Laurent says, and the crown prince laughs.

Damianos unpins the top of his chiton, baring his chest, and then reaches for the one at his waist.

“What are you doing?” Laurent says, voice a little louder than intended.

Damianos gives him a smile at his reaction. “I promised I’d teach you how to swim last time we met.”

“You’re taking your clothes off.”

Damianos gives him an amused look. “You’ll have a hard time swimming if you insist on staying fully laced.”

Cultural differences, Laurent thinks, compromise. “Can we take our clothes off closer to the shore at least?”

Damianos laughs. “We can just jump into the water from here.” And then he gestures to the massive fucking cliff face they’re on. The Crown Prince of Akielos is insane. Good to know.

“Absolutely not,” Laurent says.

“Are you scared?”

“Yes!” Laurent replies. “I’m not going to go drown myself just because you goad me into it.”

“I’m jumping in too,” Damianos replies. “I won’t let you drown.”

Laurent looks down again, and then takes a few steps back. “No, thank you.”

Damianos turns to him and then moves in very close. There’s something very earnest in the way that he takes Laurent’s hands and ducks his head so that they are eye to eye. (There is also something very distracting in being this close to the man’s bare chest). “I promise you, the feeling you get from diving off the cliffs is incomparable to anything else. You can’t come to Ios without trying it. And I won’t let any harm come to you.”

Laurent’s heart is beating very fast. “Alright,” he says, before he really thinks about it.

Damianos’ grin is like the sunshine warming them. Laurent’s cheeks must be very flushed by now. “Really?”

“Yes, fine.” He pulls his hands out of Damianos’ and then leans down to take off his boots. When he is flat-footed on the ground, he pauses. “I might need… assistance with my jacket,” he admits. “It laces at the back.”

“Oh,” Damianos says, softly, “Yes.”

He is a prince, and a future king, and yet he doesn’t hesitate to step behind Laurent and take a hold of his laces like a servant. Laurent closes his eyes. Damianos takes his time, gently pulling and stopping to check on what he’s doing every now and then.

“These are very complicated,” Damianos says, still working at it. “They suit you.”

“Because I am also complicated?”

Damianos laughs quietly. “You’re lovely,” he says. “I like you. Even when you are spitting fire. Complicated is a word for it, I suppose, but I think it is more that you are very different to everyone I have ever known.”

Laurent takes a moment before he can speak. “Is that bad?”

“It is very-” Damianos tugs at the laces at Laurent’s waist with a little more force than expected, and Laurent takes an unsteady step back “-good.”

Then he is pushing the jacket off of Laurent’s shoulders and Laurent takes it as his cue to move away from Damianos. He watches the Akielon when he pulls off his undershirt, and sees him looking back. Laurent gets a very bizarre desire to step close to him again. “Get a move on,” Laurent says instead, and the moment ends.

When they are fully undressed, they step back to get a running jump. Damianos takes his hand again. He is very warm.

“Remember to take a breath before you hit the water,” Damianos says.

“Yes, thank you, I think I could figure that one out on my own.”

Damianos laughs, and then he says “Ready?” and his grip tightens. There is no time to answer or think, until they have already jumped from the cliff. Laurent gets a split second moment of regret when he is mid-air, the fear of doing something reckless, but it is exhilarating as the joy of impulsiveness usually is.

Laurent almost forgets to breathe, but he manages to gasp in some air before he is submerged in the shockingly cold water. The ocean is full of salt, and it burns his eyes to much to open them, and he doesn’t know which way is up. The panic almost sets in but then there are arms around his, pulling him up. They break to the surface together.

Laurent gasps. His heart is pounding, and his blood is rushing, and he is probably digging crescents into Damianos’ shoulders with his iron grip on them. And then, unexpectedly, he is laughing. His chest feels like it might explode with the giddy terror of something he has never felt before. When he opens his eyes, Damianos is silently staring at him, hands on Laurent’s waist, and his mouth slightly open as if shocked.

“You are laughing,” he says.

“I could have died!” Laurent breathes, ecstatic. “Let’s do it again.”

-

“What is your relationship with Nik like?” Damianos asks, after they have jumped several more times and while they sit on the grass to wait for the sun to dry them off.

Laurent shrugs. “It is like a marriage,” he says, finally.

“He looks at you a lot.”

“You told me yourself that I am nice to look at.”

Damianos smiles at him. “You are,” he says. “You will be even more of a spectacle if you spend anymore time in the sun.”

Laurent takes that as his cue to get up and start retrieving his clothes. As odd as it is to be outside and naked, Damianos has a quality to him that makes it easy to forget oneself. As if his confidence can wear off upon someone who stands close enough to it. Auguste has a similar quality, he thinks.

“Am I red?” Laurent asks, pulling on his pants. Damianos gives him a long look, enough to make Laurent certain that he is red now at least.

“A little pink cheeked.”

Laurent puts a hand up to his cheek automatically.

“That’s not where I was talking about.” Damianos is grinning at him so Laurent throws the jacket in his hands at the man. It hits Damianos in the face. “Thank you, but I don’t think it will fit me.”

“Make yourself useful,” Laurent says. Putting his undershirt on ruffles his already messy hair. “And assist me.”

Damianos, surprisingly (or perhaps not), complies. He helps Laurent shrug into the jacket and then brushes his hair over one shoulder so that he can stand behind Laurent and start lacing. Laurent realises suddenly that he has miscalculated. Damen is still undressed, and close enough that Laurent can feel the heat emanating from his body.

When he gets to the top, his fingers brush against Laurent’s neck softly, whispers of touch. It feels like an automatic reaction to let himself fall into the gesture, and then unthinkingly he’s resting his weight against Damianos’ chest. Laurent closes his eyes, because somehow that seems easier than moving away as he should. His heart is beating rapidly, or perhaps that is Damianos’ heartbeat pushing against Laurent’s back from how closely pressed they are. Damianos’ hands have dropped to hold his hips. They both stay like that for a very long moment, just breathing.

It has been a matter of days since arriving in Ios, and yet Laurent would be a fool not to realise that he is very attracted to Damianos. He is wonderfully handsome, more handsome even than fairytale Princes - but like a God of old times. He is strong, and good-hearted, and it is so very easy to be drawn to him. Laurent imagines that Damianos has more suitors than he knows what to do with. And then he imagines what Damianos might actually do with said suitors.

Laurent tips his head back against Damianos’ shoulder. He very selfishly wants to be kissed right in this moment, he thinks, and then a second later there is the gentlest caress of lips against his neck. Laurent shudders.

He has never been the kind of person to succumb to his own desires, and yet right now he wants to be. Nikandros has been Laurent’s only proper experience in matters of the flesh, and yet his mind is on anything but his husband right now. Even with his eyes closed, Laurent is very aware that it is the Crown Prince of Akielos who is putting hands (and lips) on him.

Damianos is setting off all the nerves in Laurent’s neck. It is such a soft touch - unlike anything that Laurent has ever felt - that he can’t help but sigh. The hitch in his own breath is what sends Laurent back into reality, in the end. He jumps away from Damianos suddenly, alarmed.

“That is inappropriate,” he says, voice breathless.

What is he doing? As much as he wants to let Damen undress him again, and lie him down on the grass and fuck him right here next to the ocean - it would be catastrophic to do so. What would Nikandros say? Or his father? Or the people of Vere? It is enough that he has been forced to marry an Akielon. If his own country hears that he is a barbarian fucking whore, it will be even harder to go back and see his brother and mother again. What is he doing?

“Alright,” Damen says, sounding a little unsteady. Laurent is grateful that he doesn’t argue or bring up that Laurent was clearly very into what they were just doing. And then he is annoyed with himself for being grateful at basic common decency.

“We should return to the palace.” He pulls on his heeled riding boots with haste, and is then mounting his horse before Damen has even finished fixing the pin in his chiton.

“Laurent,” Damen says. He looks as if he will continue speaking.

“I’ll race you,” Laurent strikes preemptively. He does not want to hear whatever Damen is planning to say. He digs his heels in, and his horse sets off.

[lavendersam]

The Longest Night of the Year

introduction

part 1, part 2, part 3, part 4, part 5, part 6, part 7, part 8, part 9, part 10

previous

Rook awoke next to warm ashes in the fireplace, to the sounds of a new day’s work beginning on Redwheel farm.  As she blinked awake, she caught the scent of breakfast wafting from the farmhouse’s kitchen and she remembered that she had skipped dinner to go running off into the woods last night.  Her clothes were dry on the hearth next to her, and she looked furtively around before shedding the large blanket and quickly slipping into them.

She had just finished tying off her breast band when Teron walked into the room.  He gave a started “Augh!” and recoiled away from her, putting his hands up to block the sight.  “What the shit, Bridget?”

Rook sighed in exasperation.  “Oh grow up, Teron. My clothes got soaked last night.”  She pulled her shirt over her head and started doing up the laces.  “You’re welcome, by the way,” she added.

Teron looked her up and down with a horrified expression.  He let out a disgusted and disbelieving “Ugh!” before turning and stomping away.

“Wha- I meant for saving your sister, not - argh!”  Rook snorted in frustration.  Finishing up getting dressed, Rook went into the kitchen and got breakfast.  Orna served her porridge with honeycomb and toasted acorns, and let her know that Kaeli was doing fine.  Every other member of Redwheel stopped by to thank Rook or clap her on the shoulder, and it was solidly mid-morning by the time she got bundled up and walking down the road towards town.

The day was bright beneath a light grey ceiling of snowclouds across the sky.  Rook got back to the inn, and was immediately swamped by all three innkeepers, demanding to know if she was okay, what had happened last night.

“I’m alright, I’m alright,” she said.  “I fell into a snowbank, but...but I found Kaeli. Orna made me sleep at Redwheel last night.”

“Yes, Jaan told us, but -” Elias shook his head.  “Sit down, we’ll get you some food.  I think you should take the day off today.”

“But the festival -” Rook protested.

“We’ll put you to work plenty hard tomorrow, but we’ll get by without you today,” Elias said.  “And you should go home and check in with your family, I’m sure the story has reached your parents by now.”

Rook sighed and nodded.  Elias smiled, and he and Galen went back to the kitchen while Medran sat Rook down by the fire.

“So what happened?” the thin man asked, cleaning his spectacles and tilting his head at her.

Rook hesitated.  She hadn’t told Medran about what had happened on Midsummer’s Eve - hadn’t told anyone except Alyona, and even with her it took a month or two to work up the courage.  Alyona only vaguely remembered the wild story of faeries and a missing heart that Rook had told her while she was shaking off the remnants of the Rusalka’s spell.  To Rook’s surpise and relief, however, Alyona believed her.

”You said your name was Rook?” Alyona had said.  She pondered the name for a moment. “Hmm...It suits you.  I’m not sure why, but it suits you.”  She shook her head, smiling.  “Gods.  I can’t believe you made a faerie deal like that.”

“What else was I supposed to do?” Rook protested.

“Run back to the village to get help!” Alyona laughed.

Rook’s eyes widened and the words she was about to say died on her lips.  She blinked a few times.  “...Oh,” was all she said.

Alyona put a hand over her mouth, her shoulders shaking with laughter.  She wiped a tear from her eye and patted Rook’s cheek.  “Aw, Bridget.”  She looked up into Rook’s eyes, a bright smile across her face.  “Well, thank you.  For doing the brave and foolish thing.  I suppose it saved my life.”

Rook felt her face growing warm, and couldn’t help but smile back.  “Of course,” she said.

Alyona’s lips pursed in thought, then she smiled and said, “Close your eyes.”

Rook raised an eyebrow, but did as she was told.  She tried not to laugh when she felt the air from Alyona waving a hand in front of her face.

“You’re not peeking?”

“I’m not peeking.”

“Good.”  There was the sound of movement, and then Rook felt the lightest pressure of soft, warm lips upon hers.  It was gone in an instant, and Rook’s eyes snapped open in time to see Alyona stepping back from her, her cheeks bright pink and eyes cast shyly downwards.  She hooked some of her long hair behind an ear and glanced up at Rook.  “Well...there’s your reward for saving a fair maiden,” she said with mock seriousness.

Rook grinned like a fool, and made a showy bow.  The conversation moved on, but Rook had felt a small warmth on her lips for the rest of the day.

Despite Alyona believing her story, Rook didn’t have much hope that many others in the village would take her word for it.  But like her, Medran had a true name, and although he always seemed to have his head in a book or in the clouds, Rook knew he was a deeply insightful person.  Maybe he would know something useful?  She took a breath, and then quickly and quietly told him what had happened last night, only leaving out the fact that she had met the Nøkken before...and her encounter with woman in the red cloak.

Medran listened intently, without interrupting, and thought for a while before speaking.  “Well, that does sound serious.  Have you spoken with Tala or Taisin about this?”

“I...” Rook had approached the priestess once since Midsummer, to ask if there were any old ruins in the woods north of the village.  The older woman had immediately asked why Rook wanted to know, with a shrewd suspicion that startled Rook.  She quickly made up a not entirely untrue story of Teron leading her and Alyona into the woods to look for them, but that they didn’t find any.  This seemed to satisfy Tala, who admitted to hearing rumors of an old church from a forgotten age lost somewhere in the mountains nearby - one dedicated to the worship of something other than the gods.  She then made Rook promise never to go looking for them, and that was the end of any conversation with the priestess.  As for Taisin...the greenwitch was rarely seen in the village, even for festivals.  She lived far from everyone else, on the edge of the woods with the village huntress.  Rook preferred not to bother her.

Medran smiled.  “Dangerous faeries might their area of expertise.  You might want to tell one of them what happened.”  Just then, Galen and Elias returned with food, and Rook was left to her thoughts.

She had just finished eating when the door to the inn opened and Alyona stepped inside, her cheeks pink from the cold.  She smiled when she saw Rook and bounded over to her.

“What did you do?” she asked, grinning as she sat down beside Rook.  “The story’s all over town.  What happened?”

“I...” Rook glanced across the bar at Medran, who winked.  “...I’ll tell you the whole story, but I need to back home and check in there.  What are you up to today?”

Alyona smiled.  “Nothing I can’t put off.  I’ll walk with you.”  The two put on their coats, waved goodbye to the innkeepers, and stepped out together.  In the inn-yard outside, Crane had opened up his cart and several people were coming by to look through the odd assortment of items and trinkets he was selling.  Alyona slipped her hands around Rook’s arm as they passed by, and Rook couldn’t help blushing as they walked past what felt like half the village arm in arm.  Together, they walked up the snow-packed road out of the village and out towards Rook’s family farm.

“Have you looked at Crane’s cart yet?” Rook asked.

Alyona sniffed.  “Yes, but I didn’t find what I was looking for.”

“Oh?” Rook turned to look at her.  “What was that?”

Alyona looked up at Rook with a curious expression.  “A hairbrush.  Why?”

Rook shrugged and tried not to smile.  “Just curious,” she said.

Once they were out of the village and skirting Della’s orchards, Rook told Alyona about everything that had happened last night...everything except the woman with the burning eyes, which still baffled Rook.  She didn’t seem like one of the Fair Folk - for one, she was helpful, offering assistance freely and without price.  A mystery for another time, however, because right now Alyona was talking to her about the Nøkken. 

“What are you going to do?” she asked.  “Sleep with a horseshoe under your pillow from now on?”

“I’m not sure,” Rook said.  “I think I might talk to the priestess about it?  She might know what to do, if anything.”

“Hmm...well, even if she knows how to defend against the fae, I don’t think she can save you from snowball attacks!” 

“What?”

Alyona didn’t even bother making a snowball.  She just dipped her mittens into the snow and sent a spray of powder up into Rook’s face.

“Ack!”  Rook laughed, and tossed some snow her way as well.  Alyona hit Rook squarely with a snowball, then Rook tackled Alyona into the snow.  The two of them went down laughing.

They arrived at Splitbrook farm in the early afternoon, just in time to catch Rook’s aunt Muriel making lunch.  Alyona and Rook hung their coats up to dry, and spent a loud, bustling hour eating in the kitchen while Rook’s many brothers and cousins came through to grab a bite, say hello, and press Rook for the story of last night.  Rook didn’t say much, and wasn’t able to get many words in anyway as family members hugged her and mussed her hair and told her how much they missed her since she’s been spending so much time working at the inn.  Rook’s father made sure to tell her, “Go talk to your mother before you go again.  She’s out in the pasture, and would hate to have missed you.”  Rook promised that she would.

After lunch, Rook and Alyona went out to the barn to see their old horse Clover.  She was happy to see them, and happier to see the apple piece Rook brought out.  While she was there, Rook found a spare horseshoe and slipped it into her coat pocket.  They stopped by the edge of the pasture where Rook’s mother was cutting branches off spruce trees and visited with her a bit.

“Are ya sleeping here tonight, or are you heading back to town?” she asked, looking between Rook and Alyona.

“I should sleep at the inn tonight,” Rook said.  “They’ll need all the help they can get preparing for the festival, and I promised Galen I’d go gather chestnuts tomorrow.”

Disappointment touched her mother’s face, but she nodded.  “I understand.  I miss you though.  Farm’s not the same without you, you know?”  She gave Rook a hug.  “Take care, bug.”  She let Rook go and smiled at Alyona.  “Come back soon, though?  And feel free to bring your...friend with you.”

Alyona blushed a bit, but thanked Rook’s mother for the invitation.

By the time Rook and Alyona got back to the village, it was almost dark.  “I should get back home,” Alyona said.  “I’ll have chores to catch up on.  But...” She gave Rook a wide smile.  “I’m glad we took the day off.”

Rook smiled back.  “Here,” she said, and handed Alyona the horseshoe.  “For you to put under your pillow.”

Alyona took it, but looked up, worried.  “Are you sure you don’t need it more?”

Rook shook her head.  “I’ll go talk to Tala now.  Promise,” she said, when Alyona raised an eyebrow.  “Besides, I’d feel better knowing you had it.”

“Well, alright then.” Alyona smiled.  “Thank you.”

“Of course,” Rook said, grinning.  

The two said goodnight, and Alyona took the path up to the mill.  Rook watched her go, then turned back towards the village.  It was almost completely dark, and all of a sudden she realized that she was very hungry and very cold.  She looked longingly at the warm, bright light in the inn’s windows on the far end of the village, where Crane had already shut up his cart and smoke was rising from the chimney.  Rook sighed, and reluctantly started walking the other direction towards the village shrine.

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