#writing horses

[theprissythumbelina]

So you want to write about horses.

Part 2 now out!

Or you're writing and horses show up. Or its a pre-industrial fantasy and your characters have to get somewhere. Or you have a faint idea of your MC's love interest showing up on a white stallion.

Whatever the cause, you're writing, and a horse appears. But you know nothing about horses. I can help.

This is a horse. Horses come in many sizes.

^ Big Jake, a Belgian Draft horse, and a roughly 5 foot woman for scale.

1 hand = 4 inches = 10.16 cm

Once a horse is smaller than about 14.2hh, it is generally considered a pony. In the modern day, ponies are not considered suitable for adult riders due to weight and height issues. Some pony breeds, such as Welsh, Fjords, ect. are known for being sturdy, and can more easily carry adult sized humans. Miniature horses should never be ridden by adults.

^The only suitable 'riding' a miniature horse should do

The above graphic mentions that horses are measured from the top of the withers, not the top of the head. But, what are withers?

The withers are where the horse's shoulders meet the spine, and the neck becomes the back. Withers are incredibly important for saddle placement, as a badly placed saddle in this area can prevent a horse from moving its legs properly, cause a large amount of pain, and even damage a horse's spine. Speaking of spines, this is a horse skeleton, with the withers pointed out.

Horses have four legs. Horses cannot have any fewer than four legs. They are obligate quadrupeds. This is, in part, due to their weight, as well as the construction of their legs and hooves. This is to say, that while cats, dogs, and other animals can be amputees, a horse, short of some incredible magic solution, cannot. Even a broken leg bone will cause a huge amount of problems, as all of the weight that leg would usually hold must be shifted to the other feet, and this causes a condition called laminitis, where the tissue that holds together the hoof and the toe bone becomes inflamed, and begins to separate. Once this happens, the hoof tissue dies from lack of blood, and the bone begins to rotate. This is extremely painful for the horse, and so often the best solution for a horse with a broken leg is to be spared that pain. Famous American racehorse Barbaro experienced a complex broken bone, which began to heal fine, but complications from laminitis in two of his other legs caused him to be put down. This is why media will almost always show a horse with a broken or injured leg being 'taken care of'.

^Barbaro, in his prime. Even the best veterinary medicine couldn't save him.

Now, racehorses like Barbaro are moving at the fastest speed and the fastest gait of the horse, the gallop. The patterns that horses move their feet are referred to as gaits, with most horses having four, with some breeds having five or more.

The first gait and the slowest is the walk. In the walk, all four feet move independently, which leads it to be called a four-beat gait, as the footfalls make a sort of drumbeat on the ground.

The next gait is the trot, a two beat gait with diagonal pairs of legs moving together.

^Diagonal pairs marked in red and blue

The trot is a very bouncy experience for the rider, and can be uncomfortable. Some riders will rise and fall with a pair of diagonal legs, called a posting trot, some will stand in their stirrups, called a two-point or jump position, and some will sit the trot, which requires a lot of core strength (seriously, if you want a strong core, screw the gym)

The third gait is the canter, a three-beat gait with a single diagonal pair. This gait is ridden sitting, and feels a lot like going over waves on a jetski. There is a rise, a scoop, and a fall feeling. The canter is also called a lope in Western riding, they are the same gait.

^diagonal pair marked in red

A gallop is sometimes considered a variation on canter, as it is similar save for the legs actually moving in a four-beat pattern. As you can see with the image of Barbaro, all four of his feet are moving in different patterns, at different times, even though the gallop is really a four beat version of the canter. Riders in the gallop rise off the horse's back into a raised position, which allows the horse to use the full length of its spine and musculature to get as much reach and speed as possible. It feels like riding on top of a train barreling down the tracks, at least until your horse takes an unexpected turn and the ground is suddenly the only thing you're riding.

^ I've been there. The trick is to push away and hit the ground rolling, it hurts less that way. And don't land on your head.

That's all for this post. I'll have more when I feel like it, and send me questions if you want to know more about specific things or need a writing question answered

Reblogs welcome and encouraged

@jacqueswriteblrlibrary for wider reach

[dapandapod]

Writing horses - a loveletter

Something I have noticed while writing is just how very much googling one has to do. Especially when writing something you are not very familiar with. Animals in particular can be very tricky, and in our witcher fandom we have a darling horse as a very important character. Where Geralt goes, Roach goes. 

As a horse girl myself I have a lot to stand on already (though language sometimes fail me, as I am not a native English speaker) while writing horse girl Geralt, (My Beloved), but not everybody has had the opportunity to spend time with a horse more than maybe a happy(or terrible, if you met a pony) memory.

Here are some easy things to help you write behavior, sounds, habits or needs. Just generally horse things. This is not perfect, nor complete, there is a lot of ground to cover, but this is an attempt to give writers the tools to write a horse. :) 

I won’t mention gear, colors, gates etc, and attempt to give you tidbits of what google hides.

I’d like to point out, they are all individuals, and like humans have very different views on the world. Some are very dominant, some are very dramatic, some are very calm and trusting, some have a wicked sense of humor. 

If you have seldom or possibly not met a horse at all but have other pets, it is easier to compare them to cats and dogs. 

General behavior/body language can be more cat-like, elegant, spooking for nothing, independent, flicking tail when annoyed, and some of them can - like cats - be really picky about the people around them. 

Social behavior is closer to dogs. Their chosen person/s or herd are very important to them, they can be very loyal, trusting and protective of them. Playful behavior can be nudges with their nose, whinnying when they see you, or what I call ‘lipping’ after you. Basically using their lips for either attention, begging for sweets, or just being playful.

A saying I have heard in the horse world is; A gelding you tell. A Stallion you ask. A mare, you send three different copies to her secretary, and she will get back to you in 2-3 work weeks. Sums up their personalities pretty good.

Horses are just funky family members, 

Horse behaviour:

-In General, horses are quiet animals. Making too much sound can attract predators. 

They knicker/whinny when they they are about to get food (and you are aaalways to slow), when they flirt or when they see another horse, or a rare shrill whine (iiiih!) while protesting. Of course, that is also an individual thing, some horses are really talkative while others are very silent. (Mine does old man grunts every time he starts trotting or while pooping… Hard work that.)

-Horses read your body language and react to it, even if you are in the saddle. Again, this is a training/personality/bonding thing, but a rider that is tense or stressed will have a tense and stressed horse. If you are calm when things are scary, the horse is more likely to be calmer in a stressed or dangerous situation.

-In comparison, when a horse is relaxed, their ears can point “outwards”, lowering slightly, rest one hind leg by cocking it, neck lowering. There are a lot of small little signs too, but that is how in depth you want to go. That also means they can read strangers, and decide that they do not like them.

-Horses can walk for a long time, yes, but gallop/canter for hours takes a lot out of them. Think of the last time you wore a really heavy backpack when you were out walking, and how tiring that can be.

If you have played The Witcher 3, you might recognize the horse’s fear-bar rising when getting closer to something dangerous, and her reaction when it fills. If she is terrified, she can either start running away from the danger, or attempt to buck you off. In this case, Geralt has Axii to rely on, but the rest of us mortals have to rely on the bond with our horses, the trust between us.

Some horses are trained to be brave, or even defend. 

Think of police horses or war horses. They go where the rider says, because of their bond and because they trust that their rider will keep them safe. In turn, a horse can feel protective over you, and sometimes that is trained into them.

Think of war horses in this instance, who will trample enemies, use their front legs when they rear up on their hind legs, wave them around, or their hind legs to kick - hard. 

This usually takes training or some really strong loyalty, as their first instinct is usually to flee.

Fun things horses can do:

-Horses can be ticklish, mostly around their stomachs.

-When they burst into gallop suddenly and/or kick with their hind legs, they very often fart at the same time. (usually this is a happy thing)

-When a horse is nervous, they poop. Gotta lighten the load in case they need to run, you know.

-Oh, and horses love to smell other horses poop. It’s very important to see who was there before them.

-Horses sometimes play with objects in their enclosure like dogs do, sometimes by throwing it around, shaking their head up and down, sometimes letting it go and see it sail to the other side of their enclosure, just to go fetch it and start all over again.

-They’re smart as hell, you can teach them to play games like ‘which hand has the treat’

-They will do weird things with their lips and head when you find that *one* spot they really want scratched, and attempt to scratch back at you with their lip, or just the air because you are too far away.

-Some horses when they are bored, they make things happen. Or overreacts, because that is fun. Oh my ACTUAL god is that a rock?!?! Freakout imminent.

-Horses can be mischievous. They know they are not allowed and will either sneak to get their will done, or stare you down as they do it. It could be sniffing/shaking a bag, using their leg to kick over a water bucket. 

Less fun things horses can do:

-If the horse is distracted, untrained or doesn't know you very well, sometimes they forget humans have feet too, and might stand on them.

-They are deserving of all the grass. All of it. Now. Will not listen to nudges, kicking, pulling or otherwise. Grass is always more important

-When recently bathed, or just brushed down, there is nothing better than to roll in the grass. Or dirt. Or mud. Anything sticky they can find, really.

-Depending on horse personality, everything can be a potential danger. Sometimes it can be wells, sometimes hanging laundry, sudden burst of bird from a field, or even just waving your own hat to fan yourself in the heat.

(Though, mind, a horse that is on the road a lot like Roach might not care overly much unless she is feeling real dramatic that day or there is a real threat)

-If fleeing from possible danger, they can make a really sharp turn, spin on the spot or jump sideways/backwards. A really good way for you to meet the ground if you are not very steady in the saddle, being prepared for it doesn’t always help!  

-Some horses are really bothered by insects and will constantly flick their tail, shake, or even try to reach the insect biting them with hoof or teeth until relieved

Caring for the horse:

-Horses eat a lot. It can be wheat/oats if you want Geralt to bring food for her, and grass. At a farm, horses will eat a lot of hay mostly, and many of them sleep in straw. 

-Sleeping is important for horses, and since they are prey animals, that can be a tricky business. When with other horses, there is usually at least one standing up, standing guard as the others sleep lying down. If inside, or feeling safe enough (or being tired enough) they mostly sleep lying down. But not for too long. The downside of weighing around 500kg is that your body can’t lay down for too long, it can be really dangerous even. Another reason why they can lock their legs while standing up to sleep.

-Much of the time, you can think of a horse as an athlete. They carry heavy stuff, they can get stiff and sore, and they need to train to get strong and get good stamina. If you want them to perform very well, like racing, working on the farm, carrying heavy things for you like stinky griffin heads, they need maintenance and training. Think Athlete. 

-When the horses are done for the day, or taking a break, you want to loosen the saddle girth, or take off the saddle entirely. Think of it as tossing off your bra at the end of a long day!

-Brushing is important! It cleans out the coat, reducing the risk of chafing and helping with blood circulation. It is also a bonding moment, and a good time to notice if the horse have gotten hurt anywhere.

-A common hurt for horses that go fast is stepping on the backside of their own hoof, or a branch or even their own legs hitting the inside of the legs on the area that is called cannon.

If you want to embellish your horse writing, here are some fun, personality building things you can use:

-Some horses are really mindful of their space. They don’t like other horses too close and will try to make them to back the fuck off with either teeth or a small kick.

-A very dominant horse, meaning someone who might be a leader of the herd, might be harder to read if they are ill, or challenge your decisions, doing the exact opposite of what you are asking, if moving at all.

-If a mare is in heat, she can be oh so peevish. If you nudge her with your heel, she can attempt to kick back, make that shrill sounds or even try to buck you off. They also pee a lot while in heat, like dogs do. (Heats can be compared to pms if you are familiar, uncomfortable, making you moody and sometimes ouchy, but again, individual.)

-Also some ‘smile’ by flipping their top lip up and showing their teeth - sometimes they do it bc they smell something funky but sometimes they just do it to be cute

There are so many things to add here, and there is no way to make justice years of time spent with and around horses. Every breed is a little different, every personality its own. The bond between a human and their horse can be very special and hard to explain, but oh so very precious. Sometimes they are a work friend and sometimes family, sometimes both.

Just enjoy your writing, and I hope this was helpful to make you more comfortable in writing horses. <3

(oh, and feel free to ask questions if there is something you are wondering!)

[memento-morri-writes]

I was doing some research on historical saddles, and I came across this amazing collection.

If any writers need inspiration for historical saddles....

Personal faves under the cut

Central European saddle - ca. 1450

I love this one because of all the detail that went into it! Even if it doesn't look the most comfortable. (But it didn't have to be!! It was a parade saddle, meant for show and short rides, not long ones.)

Polish Saddle - 1664

I love this one because it's very similar to a modern Western saddle, despite being over 350 years old.

Chinese Saddle - 17th or 18th Century

This one looks comfy, and also gorgeous! All the detail on the pommel... (and I assume the cantle matches.)

Italian Saddle - ca. 1570-1580

Ooh, and that Italians invented a way to keep your legs from slipping back! That's nice! And that red must have been stunning back in the day...

[live-from-flaturn]

"But you already wrote that trope."

[jadevine]

Preindustrial travel, and long explanations on why different distances are like that

Update March 1, 2024: Hey there folks, here's yet another update! I reposted Part 2a (the "medieval warhorses" tangent) to my writing blog, and I went down MORE of the horse-knowledge rabbit hole! https://www.tumblr.com/jadevine/741423906984951808/my-post-got-cut-off-so-i-added-the-rest-of-it Update Jan 30, 2024: Hey folks, I've posted the updated version of this post on my blog, so I don't have to keep frantically telling everyone "hey, that's the old version of this post!" https://thebalangay.wordpress.com/2024/01/29/preindustrial-travel-times-part-1/

I should get the posts about army travel times and camp followers reformatted and posted to my blog around the end of the week, so I'll filter through my extremely tangled thread for them.

Part 2 - Preindustrial ARMY travel times: https://www.tumblr.com/jadevine/739342239113871360/now-for-a-key-aspect-that-many-people-often-ask

Part 2a - How realistic warhorses look and act, because the myth of "all knights were mounted on huge clunky draft horses" just refuses to die: https://www.tumblr.com/jadevine/732043691180605440/helpful-things-for-action-writers-to-remember

Part 3 - Additional note about camp followers being regular workers AND sex-workers: https://www.tumblr.com/jadevine/740604203134828544/reblogging-the-time-looped-version-of-my

--

I saw a post on my main blog about how hiking groups need to keep pace with their slowest member, but many hikers mistakenly think that the point of hiking is "get from Point A to Point B as fast as possible" instead of "spending time outdoors in nature with friends," and then they complain that a new/less-experienced/sick/disabled hiker is spoiling their time-frame by constantly needing breaks, or huffing and puffing to catch up.

I run into a related question of "how long does it take to travel from Point A to Point B on horseback?" a lot, as a fantasy writer who wants to be SEMI-realistic; in the Western world at least, our post-industrial minds have largely forgotten what it's like to travel, both on our own feet and in groups.

People ask the new writer, "well, who in your cast is traveling? Is getting to Point B an emergency or not? What time of year is it?", and the newbies often get confused as to why they need so much information for "travel times." Maybe new writers see lists of "preindustrial travel times" like a primitive version of Google Maps, where all you need to do is plug in Point A and Point B.

But see, Google Maps DOES account for traveling delays, like different routes, constructions, accidents, and weather; you as the person will also need to figure in whether you're driving a car versus taking a bus/train, and so you'll need to figure out parking time or waiting time for the bus/train to actually GET THERE.

The difference between us and preindustrial travelers is that 1) we can outsource the calculations now, 2) we often travel for FUN instead of necessity.

The general rule of thumb for preindustrial times is that a healthy and prime-aged adult on foot, or a rider/horse pair of fit and prime-aged adults, can usually make 20-30 miles per day, in fair weather and on good terrain.

Why is this so specific? Because not everyone in preindustrial times was fit, not everyone was healthy, not everyone was between the ages of 20-35ish, and not everyone had nice clear skies and good terrain to travel on.

If you are too far below 18 years old or too far past 40, at best you will need either a slower pace or more frequent breaks to cover the same distance, and at worst you'll cut the travel distance in half to 10 or so miles. Too much walking is VERY BAD on too-young/old knees, and teenagers or very short adults may just have short legs even if they're fine with 8-10 hours of actual walking. Young children may get sick of walking and pitch a fit because THEY'RE TIREDDDDDDDDDD, and then you might need to stay put while they cry it out, or an adult may sigh and haul them over their shoulder (and therefore be weighed down by about 50lbs of Angry Child).

Heavy forests, wetlands and rocky hills/mountains are also going to be a much shorter "distance" per day. For forests or wetlands, you have to account for a lot of villagers going "who's gonna cut down acres of trees for one road? NOT ME," or "who's gonna drain acres of swamp for one road? NOT ME." Mountainous regions have their traveling time eaten by going UP, or finding a safer path that goes AROUND, so by the time you're done slogging through drier patches of wetlands or squeezing through trees, a deceptively short 10-15 miles in rough terrain might take you a whole day to walk instead of the usual half-day.

If you are traveling in freezing winters or during a rainstorm (and this inherently means you HAVE NO CHOICE, because nobody in preindustrial times would travel in bad weather if they could help it), you run the high risk of losing your way and then dying of exposure or slipping and breaking your neck, just a few miles out of the town/village.

Traveling in TOO-HOT weather is just as bad, because pushing yourself too hard and getting dehydrated at noon in the tropics will literally kill you. It's called heat-STROKE, not "heat-PARTY."

And now for the upper range of "traveling on horseback!"

Fully mounted groups can usually make 30-40 miles per day between Point A and Point B, but I find there are two unspoken requirements: "Point B must have enough food for all those people and horses," and "the mounted party DOESN'T need to keep pace with foot soldiers, camp followers, or supply wagons."

This means your mounted party would be traveling to 1) a rendezvous point like an ally's camp or a noble's castle, or 2) a town/city with plenty of inns. Maybe they're not literally going 30-40 miles in one trip, but they're scouting the area for 15-20 miles and then returning to their main group. Perhaps they'd be going to an allied village, but even a relatively small group of 10-20 warhorses will need 10-20 pounds of grain EACH and 20-30 pounds of hay EACH. 100-400 pounds of grain and 200-600 pounds of hay for the horses alone means that you need to stash supplies at the village beforehand, or the village needs to be a very large/prosperous one to have a guaranteed large surplus of food.

A dead sprint of 50-60 miles per day is possible for a preindustrial mounted pair, IF YOU REALLY, REALLY HAVE TO. Moreover, that is for ONE day. Many articles agree that 40 miles per day is already a hard ride, so 50-60 miles is REALLY pushing the envelope on horse and rider limits.

NOTE: While modern-day endurance rides routinely go for 50-100 miles in one day, remember that a preindustrial rider will not have the medical/logistical support that a modern endurance rider and their horse does.

If you say "they went fifty miles in a day" in most preindustrial times, the horse and rider's bodies will get wrecked. Either the person, their horse, or both, risk dying of exhaustion or getting disabled from the strain.

Whether you and your horse are fit enough to handle it and "only" have several days of defenselessness from severe pain/fatigue (and thus rely on family/friends to help you out), or you die as a heroic sacrifice, or you aren't QUITE fit enough and become disabled, or you get flat-out saved by magic or another rider who volunteers to go the other half, going past 40 miles in a day is a "Gondor Calls For Aid" level of emergency.

As a writer, I feel this kind of feat should be placed VERY carefully in a story: Either at the beginning to kick the plot off, at the climax to turn the tide, or at the end.

Preindustrial people were people--some treated their horses as tools/vehicles, and didn't care if they were killed or disabled by pushing them to their limits, but others very much cared for their horses. They needed to keep them in working condition for about 15-20 years, and they would not dream of doing this without a VERY good reason.

—

UPDATE January 13: Several people have gotten curious and looked at maps, to find out how a lot of cities are indeed spread out at a nice distance of 20-30 miles apart! I love getting people interested in my hyperfixations, lol.

But remember that this is the space between CITIES AND TOWNS. There should never be a 20-mile stretch of empty wilderness between City A and Town B, unless your world explains why folks are able to build a city in the middle of nowhere, or if something has specifically gone wrong to wipe out its supporting villages!

Period pieces often portray a shining city rising from a sea of picturesque empty land, without a single grain field or cow pasture in sight, but that city would starve to death very quickly in preindustrial times.

Why? Because as Bret Devereaux mentions in his “Lonely Cities” article (https://acoup.blog/2019/07/12/collections-the-lonely-city-part-i-the-ideal-city/), preindustrial cities and towns must have nearby villages (and even smaller towns, if large and prosperous enough!) to grow their food for them.

The settlements around a city will usually be scattered a few miles apart from each other, usually clustered along the roads to the city gates. Those villages and towns at the halfway point between cities (say 10-15 miles) are going to be essential stops for older/sick folks, merchants with cargo, and large groups like noble’s retinues and army forces.

Preindustrial armies and large noble retinues usually can’t make it far past 10-12 miles per day, as denoted in my addition to this post. (https://www.tumblr.com/jadevine/739342239113871360/now-for-a-key-aspect-that-many-people-often-ask )

[candyje11yfish]

i agree with Merg. clover shouldve gotten a horse

[cracklewink]

Harmony Syndrome Part 5/5

The last chapter of my mlp infection AU! Thank you to everyone who followed along. Some final thoughts on my twitter @cracklewink if anyone's interested : )

[whendidmythoughtsgocrazy]

“What’s the bravest thing you’ve ever said?” The boy asks. The horse replies, “Help”.

k.b. // the boy, the mole, the fox and the horse - short movie

[mournfulroses]

Mahmoud Darwish, from The Adam of two Edens: Selected Poems; "Why Have You Left the Horse Alone?,"

[arthursfuckinghat]

The sun is your halo, for it is always above you.

Arthur and Weetabix 𑁦𐂂𑁦 Scarlett Meadows

[idyllcy]

winter heatwave - zayne x reader

"It's so hot..." You grumble, sprawled out on Zayne's couch in his office as you grumble. "Global warming my beloathed..."

Zayne swipes his hand in the air, chilly air brushing your skin as he continues at his documents.

"That's not enough, doctor." You sigh. "Can I hug a snowman?"

"The AC is on. You can only blame your body for being naturally warm."

"Well it's usually bearable because I'm cuddled with you when it's hot." You groan. "I can't believe it's supposed to be winter and it's hotter than you outside."

"That comparison doesn't work. I'm naturally cold."

"Which is why we work together so well, duh." You sit up, yawning slightly. "Can I sit on your lap?"

"That's unprofessional."

"Didn't say no." You settle yourself in his lap, lashes fluttering shut as you snuggle into the ice of his skin. Much better.

(You miss the way Zayne's face flushes pink down his neck and to his ears as you do)

[theprissythumbelina]

So you want to write about horses.

Specifically, you want to write about horses in your medieval-inspired fantasy novel, rpg, or daydream fantasy. Knights in shinning armor on noble steeds, damsels in distress(or not!) on fine prancing mount, or an evil sorcerer cackling on a fierce charger above your poor tandem MCs.

Whatever it is you're imagining, a medieval horse appears. But you know nothing about horses. I can help.

(If you would like to begin with my first basic Basics post, start here)

^ When thinking knight, you're probably imagining a horse like this.

Preface: When talking about fiction, there is always a question of historical accuracy. That is wholly up to you. But you will at least, after reading this, know more of the historical fact involving horses, and certainly know about some of the more commonly-complained about fallacies involving horses in media.

Now, the above still is from the film Ladyhawke (1985), which is often credited for popularizing the Friesian breed in the United States. I can almost guarantee you have see a Friesian in a film or on TV. The recent series Shadow and Bone had a central character ride a Friesian in one episode. They epitomize the romantic nobility and grace of knights. Except they don't.

The horse you see above came into existence in 1879, primarily as a harness and agricultural use horse. Horses known as Friesian horses have existed since the 11th century, but those horses were completely different from the breed created in the 19th century. The modern Friesian is a trotting breed, made to pull carriages and look beautiful doing it. They have a long back, short neck, and due to inbreeding, a host of nasty genetic problems including dwarfism, aortic rupture, hydrocephalus, and megaesophagus.

However, breeds that trace ancestry back to beyond the middle ages do exist, and they have been breed to look much the same for generations. Introducing:

The Barb/Berber Horse

^Kinda just looks like A Horse™

The Barb comes from North Africa, and was spread into Europe through the Muslim conquest of Spain, where the breed mixed with the native Andalusian breed to create the Spanish Jennet, which is possibly the most widely successful horse breed in all of history. The Jennet is currently extinct*, but due to its durability, it was the horse used by the Spanish AND the British to invade the Americas, and descendants of the Jennet survive in local breeds from Argentina to Canada.

*a revitalization breed does exist of the same name

The Andalusian/Lusitano/Pure Raza Espanol

^The true Fabio of horses, known for thick flowing locks and sweet dispositions

Possibly the horse that most strongly resembles the ancient knighly horse, this noble creature used to be the preferred horse of film, before the Friesian rise in popularity. Horses of Spanish bloodlines are Andalusian, horses of Portuguese bloodlines are Lusitano, but the characteristics of both breeds are nearly identical. They are also known for a fancy 'high stepping' movement, in which they raise their knees higher than other breeds naturally.

The Arabian

^Note the narrow, 'dished' face and raised tail, breed characteristics

The ancient horse of the desert, made famous through books such as The Black Stallion, King of the Wind, and films such as Hildago. These horses are known for their stamina and intelligence, and were traditionally used as war horses by the desert tribes of the Arabian Peninsula. The Arabian has descendants in almost all modern breeds, as it is used to add strength and stamina to the original stock, despite being a relatively small horse. During the Napoleonic wars, this horse became the prized war horse of Europe as well, with Napoleon himself preferring to ride Arabians into battle.

The Mongolian Horse

^Thick head, thick body, this horse is made to survive winter on the steppes

Introduced to Europe from the Hunnic invasions that ended the rule of Rome, the Mongolian horse is made to survive, thrive, and run in harsh cold weather. This horse allowed Ghengis Khan and his soldiers to conqure one of the largest empires to ever exist, from Korea to Poland. This compact horse would have mixed with the native stock of Russian, Eastern European, and Germanic tribes to help create the ancient northern horses, resulting in a thicker breed of horse in the north, and a lighter breed of horse in the south of Europe. Modern-day pony breeds such as the Exmoor, Fjord, Icelandic, and other have been found to have genetic ties to the Mongolian horse.

These horses do not exactly look like the modern image of knights on massive horses, but it is useful to remember that 1. people back then were a lot smaller and 2. horses back then were a lot smaller. Of course, there were hundreds of other local breeds during the middle ages, but many have been modernized and become today's sport, work, or pleasure horses.

During the middle ages, horses were not actually defined by breed. They were defined by the work the horse was suited and trained to preform. There were five main types of medieval horses.

The Destrier

Also called The Great Horse for its size, strength, and price, this horse was the renown mount of knights and kings in battle. These horses were highly trained for battle, and could be taught to do such things as striking out at soldiers in front, kicking at soldiers from the back, and even leaping all four feet in the air to protect it's rider. They would wear the most armor, and these horses would likely be closest in appearance to the modern Andalusian.

^Ornate heavy armor on a model horse. This armor was made for a horse not much more than 15hh, what today would be a small horse.

The Courser/The Charger

A lighter horse than the destrier, the courser is also a warhorse, highly trained and well-bred, but a little less expensive. A knight might not be able to afford a destrier, especially as a minor knight, but every knight should have a courser. The Spanish Jennet is the epitome of the medieval courser, and in fact was the horse used by Richard II. According to Shakespeare, the horse's name was White Surrey, although other sources claim the horse was Roan Barbary, and was a Barb or Berber horse*.

*Bought from Spain and likely a cross of Spanish and African blood, so a Jennet. But Jennet was also a classification of a horse type in those days, so, sources are muddled.

The Rouncey

The 'average' horse of the time, this horse was used mainly for riding, but could sometimes be ridden into battle if trained properly, and were the preferred horse for lower-class fighters such as archers or men-at-arms. As it described a riding horse, these horses came in all shapes and sizes, from all lineages, and in all colors. In peacetime they could be used to draw carriages or work fields. A proud and expensive destrier would never be caught pulling a plow.

The Palfrey

A highly-bred, highly trained horse, this horse is a high quality riding horse known for a specific gait, called an ambling gait. This horse had a special pattern of moving its feet that gave the rider a considerably more comfortable ride than the traditional 4 gaited horse. After the middle ages, these horses almost disappeared, only to be recovered in the Americas in the form of 'gaited' horses such as the Paso Fino, the Rocky Mountain Horse, the Missouri Foxtrotter, and the Tennessee Walking Horse. The Icelandic horse has also retained the special Tölt gait that may* be the exact gait of medieval ambling horses.

*may, I am not a gaited horse expert.

The Packhorse

This describes any kind of horse, usually a rouncey, that is used not for riding but to carry supplies. Packhorses could also be mules, donkeys, and ponies, so long as they could carry weight for long miles. These were supply horses, carrying food, weapons, tents, whatever else may be needed.

Knights, Horses, and the Battlefield

^ What an incredible creature of power and nobility. The man is fine too, I guess.

Now, if you have seen the above scene, you have probably seen The Hollow Crown, a historical drama with a few late Medieval battle scenes. In these scenes, knight clashes against knight in a furious charge, leading to pitched battles on horseback. I'm not going to say that never happened, but by and large cavalry was directed against infantry, not other cavalry, or used to conduct maneuvers requiring speed and surprise, such as a charge, a circling maneuver, a bluff retreat and most importantly, to chase down routing enemy soldiers. A knight on horseback was most effective in close quarters against unmounted and surprised soldiers. Lances were the primary weapon, allowing a mounted warrior length to spear and batter down at enemies, and a sword was secondary, as it had a shorter length, and would be used if a mounted warrior was surrounded by infantry or in battle against another knight. Throughout the medieval period, horses sometimes were removed from the fight all together due to unfavorable land, and kept in reserve to either help the army flee or to chase down the fleeing enemy.

Hungry for more?

There are many sources out there to learn more about the medieval period and knights in particular. I would highly recommend that you not look at Medieval Times sources, if only because better sources are out there. I enjoy the videos produce by Jason Kingsley CBE (Yes, that Jason Kingsley CBE) on his Modern History TV YouTube Channel, and find them to be accurate as far as I'm aware.

^ Jason Kingsley and his horse Warlord, in costume. I've sent marriage proposals but I've not yet received a reply.

That's all for this post. I'll have more when I feel like it, and send me questions if you want to know more about specific things or need a writing question answered

Reblogs welcome and encouraged

@jacqueswriteblrlibrary for wider reach

[thedeepgreensea]

Cowboy Spock for a fanfiction I'm currently writing!

(Not happy with Jim, as always, so he doesnt get his own picture)

Bonus horse!

[memento-morri-writes]

What do you need to / want to know about horses + riding?

I wanted to make a follow up post or two to my post about writing horses, and I was wondering if there's anything in particular anyone who follows me needs to or wants to know. What confuses you? What do you want a clear and simple explanation for? This can be about horses, tack, riding, types of riding, care of horses, etc. Basically, anything horse-related. Leave a comment or send an ask, or even reblog this post, and I'll try my best to make a post about it, or include it in a larger post.

(I'm well aware this is a very niche post I'm making, and that most people who follow me don't write stuff that involves horses heavily, but I know there are some fantasy writers who follow me, so I figured I'd make this post.)

Also, yes, I'm well aware google exists, but sometimes it's nice to be able to talk to someone directly or get an answer to your exact question and be able to ask questions in return, etc. But don't take my word as law. I'm knowledgeable, but I'm no expert.

[sanctus-ingenium]

Bowman (art from 2021)

[anto-pops]

Sudsy Confessions - Sebastian Sallow x Female!Reader

Summary: As the end of the school year continues to creep up on all of the seventh-year students, Sebastian has thought about what’s to come after graduation shamefully little. He’s equal parts annoyed and worried that he doesn’t know what he wants to do with his life, and he’s even more frustrated that he’s running out of time to tell you how he really feels about you. When a chance opportunity finally presents itself, Sebastian seizes the moment, even if the setting is a little… unorthodox.  

Alternatively summarized as Sebastian confessing his long-harbored love for you while you’re naked in a bathtub. 

Word Count: 6.8k

Warnings: 18+, aged up characters, explicit sexual content, love confessions, bathtub sex

Full fic can also be found here on Ao3 with more diverse tags :))

It was rare for Sebastian to get so bent out of shape over Quidditch. Especially since it had been an unofficial scrimmage between him and a handful of friends– which he had still won, mind— but it was the topic of discussion that had transpired after the actual event in The Three Broomsticks that had gotten him all hot and bothered, and there was no way around the truth of the matter. 

Garreth had brought up graduation. 

It was a topic that Sebastian had done his best to steer clear of since he had yet to formulate a plan for himself after Hogwarts. Apparently Weasley would be starting an apprenticeship with J. Pippins at his shop in Hogsmeade, which had warranted a few hesitant congratulations from the rest of his motley group. It was obvious that Leander and Imelda assumed the same thing Sebastian did; that Garreth would probably blow up the shop soon after starting. 

Then there was Imelda. Headstrong, resilient, and determined to prove herself. She fully intended on trying out for the Holyhead Harpies Quidditch team after graduation and refused to believe she would do anything but succeed. There was no reason to doubt her at all– she’d always been masterful on her broom and had set new records left and right since Professor Black had reinstated Quidditch again. Sebastian only hoped that he was well out of sight in the event things didn’t go the way Imelda wanted them to. 

Leander had taken a bit of a sharp turn somewhere between the start of school and the present moment and apparently wanted to apply to work at the Ministry. Specifically, he’d been talking about joining the Council of Magical Law– evidently finding the power that would come with such a position all too appealing. Sebastian couldn’t help but think it was rather on brand for the Gryffindor to think as much, but his encouragement had been lukewarm all the same. 

Though he hadn’t joined them at The Three Broomsticks, it was already known that Ominis was also thinking about working for the Ministry, but with a different motive. He wanted to get more closely involved with the Muggle Liaison Office for reasons that continued to escape Sebastian. Whether it was to learn more about their differences to wizard-kind or to spite his family further, Sebastian didn’t know, but he was frankly inclined to believe the latter. 

Then there was you. The enigma, the mystery– the great unknown that had turned his entire world upside down from the moment you’d walked through the Great Hall doors two years ago. He had no clue what your plans were after graduation, and not knowing was slowly eating him alive. It had less to do with being kept out of the loop and more to do with his unspoken feelings for you– feelings that he had been keeping to himself for years now in a bid to keep his friendship with you unmarred. After your tumultuous fifth-year, it had understandably taken some time for the two of you to get back to any semblance of normalcy, and now that graduation was approaching, he couldn’t help but feel like time was slipping through his fingers. 

Sebastian’s previously upbeat demeanor had darkened considerably after that conversation, leading him to bail entirely on drinks at the pub in favor of returning to Hogwarts to wallow in self-pity. 

He’d moved in absolute silence following his return, a metaphorical rain cloud looming over his head as he’d gone to his dorm to grab his toiletries and a change of clothes before setting off for the Prefect’s bathroom. Friday nights were notoriously quiet now that everyone’s N.E.W.T’s had been completed, and Sebastian relished in the solitude that he always found in the spacious washroom. Sneaking in and using it was well worth the risk if it spared him from more idle conversations with his fellow classmates. 

It wasn’t unusual for the door to be locked– due in large part to the fact that it always was– so he undid the latch with his wand and shouldered the door open, barreling into the humid space with the grace of a hurricane. He tossed his items down on the countertop beside the sink and ripped his toothbrush out of his bag, shoving it in-between his lips as he turned the faucet on and rifled around for his bath soaps. Disappointment clouded his mind as his thoughts wandered back to you and the unknown future. It wouldn’t take much more than courage and a slim chance for Sebastian to get his feelings for you off his chest, but his fear of rejection kept him rooted in place. He was certain that at this point, it always would. 

“Keep running the water like that and you’ll drain the entire lake,” a familiar voice said from somewhere behind him. Sebastian damn near choked himself with his toothbrush as he whirled around to face the culprit, and then he found himself on the verge of fainting when he realized it was you. 

You were lounging in the massive tub with a smile on your face, not at all bothered by Sebastian’s sudden intrusion. Your hair was pinned up off of your bare shoulders in a messy heap, and the brunet stood no chance at concealing his blatant double take when he caught sight of your wet skin. The bulk of your naked body was covered by the scant spread of bubbles, but the tantalizing view of your collarbones had a flush rapidly spreading across his cheeks. 

“I– shit– I’m so sorry, I didn’t think anyone was in here,” Sebastian frantically mumbled around his mouthful of toothbrush. Dammit, he sounded like a fool. He ripped the thin stick from his mouth and spun back around to shut off the faucet and hastily gather his belongings from the counter. 

“You didn’t really knock to find out, but it’s fine. Don’t rush off on my account.” 

Your nonchalant tone made him pause, and he hesitantly lifted his head to stare at your reflection in the mirror. True to your words, you seemed wholly unbothered by his presence, simply continuing to bask in the warmth of the water as the steam wafted up into your face.

There wasn’t a chance in hell he could have anticipated something like this happening. 

Almost reluctantly, Sebastian dropped his towel back onto the countertop, instead picking up the paste for his toothbrush before setting to work brushing his teeth. He watched through the mirror as you raked your wet fingers through the free strands of hair that had fallen in front of your face, and the sound of the disturbed water dripping down your arms echoed through the space. “Did you win your scrimmage?” Your eyes never wavered from his in the reflection, and he nodded. “Go out for drinks afterwards?” Another nod, switching to brush the other side of his mouth. “Ominis and Garreth?” Sebastian shook his head. “What, Garreth and Leander?”

He mumbled around a mouthful of foam, “An’ Imelda.”

Your expression pinched into one of confusion as you mused, “I thought you didn’t like drinking with Leander.” Sebastian only shrugged in vague response before bending forward to spit and rinse, trying incredibly hard to not think about how very naked and wet you were presently. He was unsuccessful. 

 For a brief moment, Sebastian debated on changing into his pajamas and leaving despite having come to bathe, but something possessed him to turn around and contemplate you after he turned off the faucet. The easy smile on your face and your half hooded eyes almost knocked him out, and he swallowed thickly. 

What was it he had thought to himself just moments earlier? Courage and a slim chance? Was this not exactly that? 

“Hey,” he muttered softly, his voice almost a whisper. “What are your plans after graduation?” 

You tilted your head to the side in visible confusion, a strand of hair falling in front of your eyes seductively from the movement. He tried not to stare too hard. “Plans?” 

“What will you do once it’s time to leave? You haven’t said anything to me about it– or Ominis,” he added quickly. “We were talking about it in Hogsmeade earlier, so I was just wondering.” 

You seemed to ponder his question for a minute, your wandering hands coming to a sudden halt in the mass of bubbles. Truthfully, you hadn’t brought it up to either of the Slytherin men because you hadn’t come to a final decision yet, but it made sense that with the completion of your N.E.W.T’s, people would begin planning their post-Hogwarts lives. The thought made you equal parts sad and nervous. 

“I thought about getting a job at first… to make a name for myself and save money, you know? But honestly, I think I might travel. I’ve explored virtually all of the Highlands for ancient magic sites and I think I’ve hit a dead end. I want to learn more about Isidora’s magic– the power from the Repository is still as much of an unknown now as it was two years ago. It’s just collecting dust inside of me at this point.” 

Sebastian gave you a nonplussed blink and did his damndest not to sound paranoid when he responded. “Travel? Where exactly were you thinking?” 

You shrugged and averted your gaze to the bubbles in front of you. Of course Sebastian would be displeased to discover that yet another person from his life would be departing it so soon. It was part of the reason you’d been keeping your intentions to yourself for so long. Nonetheless, you answered softly, “Maybe to Scotland. Isidora’s notes mentioned that she originally hailed from there–”

“Scotland?” Sebastian’s frantic voice cut you off, and he found his legs carrying him to the edge of the bathtub to kneel there and bore holes in the top of your head from across the water. “You would go that far to chase after a maybe? You don’t know for certain if looking out there will even bring you any new information– it sounds incredibly reckless.”

You fixed him with a hard, telling look. “That’s rich, coming from you. Who was it that refused to let up in his search for a cure for all of fifth-year?”

His brows slammed down atop his narrowed eyes, “That was different.” 

“How is it any different?” You sounded exasperated, and he sighed indignantly. “You wanted answers, and you never stopped looking for them. You had nothing to go off of, much like myself presently, and you were willing to do anything if it meant saving Anne. I want to use this power for something good, Sebastian. I can’t do that if I don’t know how it works. Leaving is the only plausible outcome for me.”

“It would be that easy for you, then? To leave and disappear for who knows how long searching for who knows what? Would you have even told me if I hadn’t asked just now?” 

It would be that easy for you to leave me, is what he really wasn’t saying. 

You shook your head at him, completely bewildered that he was so affected by your revelation. “Eventually, yes, I would have. I don’t understand– why do you care so much? You of all people should know I would keep in touch; I’ll send owls every week, keep you updated on where I am and what happens. Going our separate ways was practically always in the cards, Sebastian.” 

Some tiny, annoying part of him had always known that. Living at Hogwarts was a blissful reprieve from the real world, offering himself and other students a sanctuary from the concerns and problems of adult life. Hearing you voice your thoughts was a completely different thing, however, and Sebastian was woefully unprepared for the dawning realization that he wouldn’t be able to see you anymore.

He silently cursed himself for having taken this fucking long to accept how empty he would feel without you beside him. 

“Sebastian,” you whispered from across the tub, and his eyes slid shut at the sound of your gentle voice. It hurt too much to fathom not getting to hear it again, or not being able to see you and crack stupid jokes with you in the middle of Potion’s class. He wouldn’t get to duel other students with you in Crossed Wands, or go to Hogsmeade to drink Butterbeers and stop by the lake on your walks back to skip rocks. All of it would end, and he would be alone. 

Again.

“Sebastian,” you said again, and the closer proximity of your voice had him cracking his eyes open. You were directly in front of him now, evidently having left your spot on the other side of the bath to siddle directly up to the ledge in front of him. Your wide eyes gazed imploringly up at him, and your grip on the edge of the tub was white-knuckled. “Why do you care so much?” 

“How could I not care?” He forced the words out while he still had the courage, seemingly gazing into the depths of your very soul as he stared down at you. His words had your eyes widening further as a flush crept up your neck onto your cheeks, and before you got the chance to say anything, Sebastian was leaning down to capture your lips in a desperate kiss. 

A surprised squeak weaseled its way from your throat as he lifted his hands to cradle your head cautiously, and you weakly curled your fingers around his wrists as he dipped lower to accommodate for the awkward angle. Sebastian kissed you hungrily and passionately– in the way he had dreamed of doing for years. He licked along your lower lip and bit gently at it, pulling a gasp from your parted lips before one of your hands came to rest on his bent knee, leaving a wet handprint behind in its wake. 

After a few heated moments, Sebastian broke away to look at you through his lashes, more surprised than anything to discover that your face was an open book; a mixture of shock and hesitance was etched into your features while something much hotter burned in your eyes, making his head fucking spin. 

“Sebastian, I– ah…” 

He let you go and sat back on his heels then, crossing his arms over his knees and resting his chin on his forearms as he peered at you nervously. There were a thousand different things Sebastian wanted to blurt out, but he settled for staying quiet as he waited for you to say something– anything.

You gaped up at him for a moment, blinking slowly as the flush across your cheeks darkened considerably. “How long?” 

He shrugged timidly before he said, “Ages. Since fifth-year, if I’m being honest.” 

“You didn’t… say anything?” His curly brown locs brushed across his forehead as he shook his head. “Why?” 

“After everything that happened in the Catacombs, I was terrified of fucking things up again. I didn’t want to ruin our friendship– I wouldn’t have been able to handle it. So I just… kept my feelings to myself. But now you’re telling me you would leave– that it was always inevitable things would end this way– and I can’t accept that. I refuse to.” 

You didn’t know what to say. Your mind was reeling from Sebastian’s revelation, and your heart was hammering away in your chest so loudly that you were certain he could hear it. Of course you felt the exact same way, but much like Sebastian you’d been worried about ruining things or complicating your already tentative relationship– especially after the events of your fifth-year. But now here he was– on his damn knees confessing to you– and your thoughts of the future vanished completely from your mind. 

Biting your lip, you stared up at Sebastian for a moment with wide eyes. One of your hands rose off the edge of the tub to trail your wet fingers across his cheek, and as Sebastian’s freckled face moved away from his arm to swim clearly into view, you stood straight out of the water invitingly and let him wrap his strong arms around your bare waist. As the water beading over your skin soaked through Sebastian’s shirt, his eyes flickered between yours, searching for the hesitance he’d seen there before. 

It was nowhere to be found.

When your lips met with his again, the softness had left them, and the two of you kissed one another hard and needily. Sebastian straightened and nipped at your lips, smiling against your mouth as you melted into him, and your breath caught somewhere in your throat when his tongue slipped into your open mouth to tangle with your own. Holding you tighter, Sebastian trailed his hands over your slick skin– traversing up your spine and into your unruly hair to tangle his fingers in the strands at the nape of your neck. He kissed you desperately, moaning softly into your mouth when he felt your hands sweep across his shoulders to fumble with the buttons at the front of his shirt. 

You’d made it about halfway down the row of clasps before Sebastian grew impatient, freeing one of his hands to deftly undo the buttons with a practiced finesse that made your mouth water eagerly. He panted along the curve of your jaw as he undressed, biting and sucking at the skin of your throat until he was pulling away to shrug the damp material off of his shoulders. His tie was still snug around his neck, clamping the collar of his button-up in place, and he growled as he loosened the thin bit of fabric before yanking it over his head and diving back into the kiss like he’d been starved of your very essence. 

Until now the bizarre angle had proved to be a non-issue– but then the pressing matter of his trousers came to light, and you felt as Sebastian blindly palmed at his belt buckle in a bid to undo it. “Need help?” Your coy offer whispered against his lips sent shivers up his spine, but he was too frantic and greedy to give you the chance to assist.

Those toned, capable arms released you so he could stand fully, his lust-dark eyes never wavering from yours as he finally succeeded in unlooping his belt from around his waist. “Just don’t move and keep watching like that– it’s helping me plenty.” 

You flashed him a mocking pout but did as he asked, settling back into the water and scanning his body longingly as he stripped down to his briefs. He teasingly ran his thumbs under the waistband of his undergarments and shot you a smug look, all too pleased with the way you licked your lips when he eventually began slipping the attire down the delectable ‘V’ of his hips. The sight of Sebastian biting his lip as his cock sprung free and arched proudly against his toned stomach had you halting your movements, though, and you audibly whimpered before the brunet threw his briefs over his shoulder and descended into the soapy water with you. 

In a flash he had you back within reach, his hands coming to cup your rear as he silently prompted you to jump into his arms so he could carry you through the water towards the rim of the massive tub. Your back bumped against the tiles there, and Sebastian took full advantage by pressing himself into you more firmly. The hard, stiff length of him rubbed tantalizingly against your folds, and you sighed contentedly before his mouth was on yours once more. 

The two of you languidly kissed for what seemed like forever, and you were more than willing to continue for as long as Sebastian saw fit. When one of the hands he had against your rear began to slip lower into uncharted territory, you smiled against his lips and huffed out an airy laugh. “Eager, are you?” 

“Shut up,” Sebastian murmured against your mouth, holding fast to your bottom harder and with greater fervor. “You have no idea how long I’ve been dreaming of this.” 

You arched your hips against Sebastian’s and drew in a shaky breath at the sensation of his shaft grazing over a particularly sensitive spot. “Then show me,” you implored. 

Growling again, Sebastian wrangled you around until you were kneeling on the ledge with your back to him and your hands braced on the rim of the bathtub. His hands were seemingly everywhere; sliding down your shoulder blades, scratching at the curve of your waist, then ghosting down the backs of your thighs as he nudged your legs apart further. You felt as he leaned forward to press a chaste kiss against the outline of your spine, and there wasn’t a chance in hell you could smother the shudder of delight that coursed through you. Sebastian moved on swiftly, though, and began pressing messy, open-mouthed kisses against your lower back, curling his hands around your hips before you felt him descend closer to your nether region. In your current position, it was just barely peeking above the thin layer of bubbles within the tub, and you heard the water slosh around Sebastian as he dropped to his knees and came face to face with your most intimate parts. 

The broad slick of Sebastian’s tongue sliding through your folds pulled a startled gasp from your lips, and your forehead fell against the tile with a soft, stuttered moan. The feeling of him tasting you– achingly and deliberately slow– had you shaking in earnest as you bit your knuckle for a semblance of control. You were struggling against the urge to rock back into his ministrations, eventually settling for reaching between your spread legs with your free hand to rub at your clit for some added reprieve, but then Sebastian slid his palms from your hips to your inner thighs to nudge your hand away. 

“Let me take care of you,” he whispered to you, and you mewled softly before tucking your hand against your chest and nodding. “Don’t hold back, either. I want to hear you.”

You were on the verge of responding, but the way Sebastian slid his tongue over you again drove whatever words you’d formulated straight out of your head. His hands ghosted along your skin as he lowered himself further, the tops of his shoulders completely submerging beneath the soapy water, and he took care to trail his fingers slowly down the sensitive skin of your inner thighs as he made himself comfortable behind you. 

Sebastian laved his tongue over you gently and encouragingly, then experimentally stiffened the muscle before poking it inside of you, leaving you whining and gasping his name. The brunet pushed his tongue in deeper then, moaning in response to the hitch in your voice as he pressed his lips against your folds and fucked the muscle into you slowly. 

“Gods, S-Sebastian–”

The man in question sighed and picked up his pace, flicking his tongue into you and dropping messy kisses against you. One of his hands slid up to your clit, brushing two of his fingers over the bundle of nerves with a moan, and when he leaned in hard to fuck his tongue as deep as possible into you, your high, airy whimpers made Sebastian’s head spin. 

With one last pump of his tongue, Sebastian pulled away, grinning at the way you twitched in response to his efforts. You heard the water stir and felt the warm, wet weight of the Slytherin drape over your back as he leaned forward to kiss across your shoulder, his hands running soothingly up the sides of your waist. 

“Fuck,” Sebastian breathed out, prompting you to turn and look at him over your shoulder. Your half-hooded eyes and parted lips sparked something in him then, and when you reached back to tangle your fingers in his hair, the brunet leaned in to meet you gladly. You moaned into the kiss, drawing a like-minded sound from Sebastian when you ground your hips back against his throbbing member. His thick hands gripped at your waist tightly as he gasped against your mouth, a desire unlike any he’d ever experienced overtaking him in a matter of seconds. The urge to feel you encasing him was overwhelming– enough so that for one brief moment, Sebastian allowed himself to press so hard against you that it stole your breath and smothered your senses. 

“Sebastian,” you groaned from beneath him. Your gaze sought him out, but his own eyes were pinched shut as he relished in the ecstasy that fell over him from merely grinding against you. It wasn’t simply the act itself that was doing it for him. It was knowing that he was doing it with you. Everything he had craved for two whole years was finally coming to fruition, and despite wanting to relish in every second of it with you, Sebastian was losing himself to his impulses. You called to him again, “Sebastian, please.” 

His chocolate brown eyes cracked open at the sound of your voice coupled with your incessant tugging on his hair, and his shaky sigh told you everything you needed to know; he was incredibly eager. 

“S-Sorry,” he stammered out, swallowing thickly in a way that drew your attention to his bobbing adam’s apple. You merely shook your head in silent dismissal, then rocked back against him to spur him into motion. If it was guidance he needed, you were more than happy to provide it. “I don’t know how much longer I can draw this out,” he admitted with a low voice, and as though to punctuate the statement, you felt his fingers dig into the skin of your hips to prevent you from moving against him any further. 

“Then don’t,” you insisted needily, yanking lightly on his hair once more to goad him into moving. “I’m ready if you are.”

“If it’s all the same to you,” Sebastian murmured, his voice gravelly and directly against the shell of your ear. “I’ll be the judge of that.” 

You shivered in anticipation when you felt one of his hands trail down the swell of your rear to probe at your slick entrance with one of his fingers. His other hand traced soothing circles against lower back, relaxing you further until you had melted against the rim of the tub with your neck craned to the side to watch Sebastian as he worked. 

When he sank one of his fingers into you slowly, you let loose a shaky exhale and felt a flush creep up your neck and onto your cheeks, leaving Sebastian biting his lip at the wanton image you made as he pressed the digit knuckle deep. Thrusting slowly, he eventually managed to work a second finger into you, trying not to think too hard about the way you looked spread around him, or the way you moved back against him, or how fucking wet you were. 

“Sebastian,” you groaned. His eyes flicked back up to yours, entirely certain that he looked just as fucking needy as you did– especially given the way you shivered and rode back against his hand a little harder. “C-Curl your fingers down a little–” he did so, and was instantly rewarded with a telling jolt from you. “Oh fuck– there–” 

The sound of Sebastian moaning to himself was almost lost in the way you were gasping and keening, and he moved his hand from your back to your hip to hold you in place as he followed the same path you’d instructed him to with his fingers. He thrusted a little harder, curling his digits against your sweet spot, and the way you arched your back and spread your thighs as far as you could without slipping while you gasped for Sebastian was fucking intoxicating. 

It was too much. 

Sebastian pulled his fingers free and reached towards you without a second thought, coiling his arm around your waist as he leaned in to kiss you again. You couldn’t help but whine at the way his cock rubbed against you, and you were near boneless in the brunet’s arms as his lips molded to yours and his tongue delved into your mouth. His strong arm held you fast to him as the other braced against the rim of the tub, holding him steady above you as he kissed you senseless. When he finally broke away to catch his breath, you practically sagged into the water beneath him. 

“Merlin, Sebastian…” 

“Are you okay?” The Slytherin’s voice was rough when he asked, low and raspy with arousal, and once you gave your enthusiastic approval, Sebastian reached between the two of you to line himself up before pressing into you. 

Sebastian’s eyes squeezed shut at how you felt around him; tight, hot, and utterly incredible. He just barely managed to keep his composure as he slowly filled you, and your scarcely stifled gasps and keening whimpers were decidedly not helping him keep his wits about him. Every fiber of Sebastian’s being urged him to ram his cock into you– to fuck your brains out and hear his name spill from your lips in breathless screams. When he finally did sheathe himself all the way inside of you, he melted against your back, holding you tightly and whispering your name against your ear over and over again. 

“Fuck, you’re…” you trailed off, subtly shaking against Sebastian’s damp skin. “You’re b-big.”

“Gods, darling,” Sebastian breathed, exhaling roughly into the nape of your neck. “Can I move?” 

You gave a stuttered assent, but you were still insanely tight around his cock, so for both your sakes when Sebastian pulled back a little and rolled his hips back in, he did so slowly in a bid to test the waters. 

No pun intended.

Your choked moan was more than enough of an answer for him, so he worked to set a slow, deep rhythm, buying himself time to get used to the heat wrapped around his cock. The gentle sigh that emanated from you coupled with the way your back bowed ever so slightly told Sebastian that his restraint was appreciated. But then you were glancing back at him from over your shoulder, and the rosy flush that colored your cheeks combined with your glazed over eyes nullified the majority of his self-control. 

Sebastian blindly trusted you to keep steady on your knees as he gripped your hips to thrust into you harder, moving faster and giving gasping moans as you tensed and groaned, squeezing him in the most perfect way. He pulled you back onto his cock, adjusting his hips so he could fuck into your sweet spot, and the way you arched under him and cried out was fucking amazing. 

“Oh f-fuck, Sebastian,” you moaned, reaching back to tangle your hand in his damp, brown curls, and Sebastian let you tug him closer so he could mouth along your shoulder, tasting the sweet-smelling bathsoaps as he went. The water splashed around you both, and you swore softly as a small wave of sudsy water sloshed up the side of the tub and sprayed you in your face. 

Taking note of your predicament, Sebastian slowed his movements and angled his head so he could murmur directly in your ear, “Do you want to move?” 

“We could, but– damn, Sebastian–”

Sebastian didn’t want to fucking move. He did want to see your face, though. He pulled out swiftly, and before you could move to climb out of the water, he grabbed and maneuvered you around so your back was pressed against the side of the tub with your legs bent over his elbows. When he reached back further to grip the rim of the tub on either side of you, he sank back into you with a low moan. Water wasn’t the most spectacular of lubricants as it turned out, but you were naturally slick enough that it was essentially a nonissue.

The expression that spread over your flushed face drove Sebastian a little crazy. He moved hot and slow, pulling back far with every aching thrust before filling you up and making you whimper. It’s exactly what Sebastian had wanted, but the way your eyes rolled shut just made him want to fuck you harder, water splashing in your face be damned. 

He leaned in close and nipped at your swollen lips, still rolling his hips maddeningly slow. “I want to fuck you so hard,” he managed, voice shaking. “I want to hear you scream my name. I want to see you fall over the edge so hard that you pass out in my arms.” He snapped his hips, just enough to make you cry out. “I’ll fuck you just like that. I’ll make the Prefects come running from how loud you are. I hope you don’t have plans this weekend, because you’re mine until the bell tolls on Monday.”

You whimpered and shivered under Sebastian, sucking in sharp breaths with every slow thrust, and when you rode your hips back into the brunet, he couldn’t help but let his head hang between his shoulders, his dark eyes sliding shut. The way you were sucking him in deeper was mind-blowing, the water flowing in waves around the two of you, until a burning, tightening sensation took root in your gut and made you grit your teeth together in anticipation. 

“S-Sebastian, fuck,” he thrust harder in response, grinding his hips into you and causing your back to arch with a gasping cry. “Sebastian, I’m– I’m going to–”

“Do it,” he gasped, leaning in to kiss you quickly and messily. “Let me see how you come for me.” 

Your nails dug into his shoulder before you pulled one hand away to begin frantically rubbing circles over your swollen clit. You rocked your hips back into his and worked yourself closer to your finish with a low moan, keeping your movements in time with his thrusts. The way you licked your lips and the way you watched Sebastian with a dark, fucked-out gaze made him whimper. You were so intense– your lips parting on gasping moans of Sebastian’s name– and it took a surprising amount of self-control for him to not just fucking blow it right then. Instead, he bent you back just a little further, just enough to see that needy expression fall back over your face as he fucked you just that little bit harder. 

Your moans grew higher, louder, breathier, until you were crying out and shaking in Sebastian’s arms. “S-Seb– fuck– I’m coming, I’m coming–” 

Your spine rounded and your eyes squeezed shut as you clamped down tight on Sebastian’s cock, a guttural whine ripping from your heaving chest as your climax washed over you. The dexterous movements from your fingers took you higher than you thought possible, and the way you barely managed to choke out Sebastian’s name was enough to send the Slytherin over the edge. 

He pressed himself against you and buried his cock deep, fucking you through your finish with short, fast thrusts while he moaned your name against your throat, his hands moving to grip your sides tight with trembling fingers. “Fuck, darling, fuck–”

Blearily, you moved your arm and wrapped it around Sebastian’s neck as he came, who was shaking and babbling far too loud for it to be muffled against your slick skin. You buried your face into his tangled hair, jolting slightly from every miniscule movement of his twitching member inside of you. When the bulk of his post-coital high had subsided, he began wetly mouthing up your neck and along your jaw before sweetly peppering kisses over your cheek. The demonstration brought a breathless grin to your face, and your hands found their way to the hair at the back of his neck before you wound your fingers through the strands. 

“Merlin’s bloody balls,” Sebastian gritted out, sliding his arms out from under your knees to hold them fast to his waist. You followed his lead easily and wrapped your legs around his hips, sitting up to kiss him contentedly as your palms skimmed along his freckled back. He smiled against your lips and murmured, “We should probably get out. I can feel how pruney your fingers are.” 

“Mm,” you hummed softly, pulling back from the kiss to hold one of your hands up to see how wrinkled your skin had become in the throes of passion. “You’re not wrong. But it would be counterproductive to not wash off all the sweat, wouldn’t it?” 

Sebastian gave you a nonplussed blink before smiling brightly at you in agreement. Almost reluctantly, he slid free from your welcoming heat and deposited you on the shallow stone ledge, then hoisted himself out of the bath to pad over to his toiletry bag. After grabbing all the necessities and jumping back into the steaming water, the two of you took your time cleansing one another, lingering touches and thoughtful kisses being exchanged throughout the process. Eventually Sebatian found himself sitting with his back to the rim of the tub, your smaller figure situated comfortably between his legs as he scooped water into his hands and let it run over your shoulders. If your slouched posture was anything to go by, you were incredibly relaxed, and Sebastian realized dimly that he was too. To be with you in this way was everything he could ever want and more, and he didn’t want it to end. Not by a longshot. 

“Let me come with you after graduation,” he said suddenly, his voice a mere whisper from behind you. 

Your eyes fluttered open as you processed his request, the bathroom utterly silent except for the distant dripping of water from the faucet, and before long you were turning around to face him with your hands braced on his legs. “What?” 

“Let me come with you,” he said again, conviction burning in his dark eyes. “To Scotland. I want to do whatever I can to help you. Please don’t leave me behind.” 

All you could do was blink for a moment before opening and closing your mouth in surprise. Sebastian’s unwavering gaze only prolonged the formation of words, until eventually you furrowed your brow and uncertainty took root. It wasn’t that you didn’t want him with you– far from it, in fact. The events that had transpired just minutes earlier had only proven that your close relationship was something to treasure for as long as possible, and you were more than ready to do exactly that. You just didn’t want him to throw his own ambitions to the side simply because you planned to travel. “What about what you want to do? Don’t you have your own plans? I thought Professor Weasley talked to you about–” 

“I never made a decision,” he stated firmly and with a shake of his head. “The Professor had her own ideas about what I would excel at, but I never agreed or wanted to pursue any of her suggestions. I honestly felt like I was in limbo until now. My point is, what I want is to stay with you. I want to help you the same way you helped me with Anne, and I really, really don’t want to end up sitting alone in some office in London waiting for your owls to reach me. There’s always something missing when you’re not with me.”

To say you were an emotional mess would be a monumental understatement. Sebastian’s words struck something deep within you, something sentimental and desperate to come to the surface. He evidently saw your tears before you felt them, because he was instantly sitting forward to cup your cheeks in his wet hands before wiping them away with his thumbs. The concern on his face was apparent, but you were already smiling reassuringly at him before he could verbally ask if you were alright. “You really know how to confess to a girl, huh?” 

He let loose an airy, relieved laugh that drifted over your nose and chilled your damp cheeks, and you wrapped your fingers around his wrists as he smiled anxiously at you. “I had a long time to practice. Is that a yes, then?” 

“Yes, you can come with me. I would love it if you did,” you said, and the giddy excitement that radiated from the man was the most palpable thing in the room at that moment. “Two heads might be better than one, after all.”

Sebastian was on you in an instant. He coiled around you like a baby mooncalf and smiled so brightly that it easily rivaled the intensity of the sun. Water splashed everywhere as he spun you effortlessly within the bath, your capricious laughter reverberating off the walls of the spacious room as elation flooded your system. Being encased in his warm embrace was all the confirmation you needed that you had made the right choice. In turn, knowing that his future was all the clearer brought a sense of peace and belonging to Sebastian that he would hold on to for as long as he was able. 

It just so happened that presently, he was holding on to you.