horse splash


Therapeutic by Michael Paul PhotoWorks

Poseidon Aesthetic

Poseidon, Greek god of the sea, was one of the most powerful of all of the gods in Greek mythology. He was one of the 12 Olympian gods and goddesses who held court on Mount Olympus - the mountain of the gods. Poseidon is the son of Cronos and Rhea, and brother to Zeus, Hades, Demeter, Hestia, and Hera. He, Zeus, and Hades divided the world into three ‘territories’; Zeus ruled over the Heavens, Hades ruled over the Underworld, and Poseidon ruled over the seas. Poseidon is often associated with bulls and horses.

Royals pt2

Reader x Jimin

Genre: Fluff, maybe some angst?

Anonymous said: “Could you write a Jimin x reader story where Jimin is royalty?”

Short synopsis: All you want is to protect him, all he wants is freedom. After disguising yourself as a boy to join the royal guard, the prince might be more of a handful than you could have ever imagined.

Disclaimer: This takes place in a land far, far away. You know, like Shrek, but I promise Jimin isn’t going to turn into an ogre. Nothing that happens is remotely historically accurate, because it does not take place in the past.

Part 1

The second time you saw the prince, you were ten years old. You had accompanied your mother to the castle so she could beg the court physician to see your father, who had fallen from a horse and injured his back. You had slipped away from her, not liking the smell of strange herbs and medicines that surrounded the physicians rooms.

Several other children were playing tag outside, and it wasn’t log before you were running at full-speed through the marketplace. You were faster than the other kids, but as you looked over you shoulder to see where they were, you missed the rock that was directly in your path.

You fell face-first into the mud of the beaten path where horses and carts passed though, and scrambled to your feet just in time to see a horse headed directly towards you.

It felt as though your feet were glued to the ground, you couldn’t move, or hardly even breathe. “This is it,” You thought distantly. “This is how I’m going to die.”

But a hand grabbed your arm and pulled you to the side, un-gluing your feet so you could get out of the way. The wheels of the cart that the horse was pulling splashed more mud onto both you and the boy who had dragged you to safety, but was such a small price to pay.

“Are you alright?” He asked, and you looked up to see the prince.

You didn’t trust yourself to talk, too scared and too embarrassed, so you just nodded as you heard shouts of “Your highness!” as guards swarmed. There was mud on his perfect boots, you noticed as they ushered him away. A strict looking woman scolded him as they left, but he didn’t seem to mind, just turned and gave you an apologetic wave.


You didn’t see much other choice other than to follow Jimin to the castle, so that’s what you did. He walked fast, as though he had things to do, and a time frame to get them done. The doormen had to scramble to get the heavy double-doors out of his way in time, but he hardly seemed to notice.

“All due respect, Your Highness.” You started, jogging to keep up with him. His legs were slightly longer than yours, and he showed no sign of slowing down. “But perhaps Captain Namjoon has a point–you don’t know anything about me, I could be–”

You were cut off as the prince spun on his heal, walking backwards so he could face you. “Dangerous?” He guessed. “Here’s the thing. Namjoon forgets that I’m not a baby. I can take care of myself–and I have, many times. Do you know how many assassins have gotten past the guard? Of course you don’t.” This didn’t seem to be a jab at you, so much as he remembered that you were new, and wouldn’t have access to that kind of information. “Anyway, every single one of them was more skilled than you, and I handled everything just fine. No offence.”

You weren’t sure if you were offended or not, but you were concerned that the prince was so trusting. “None taken, but–”

“Why do you keep arguing?” He stopped moving so abruptly that you nearly ran into him. As it was, you were far closer to him than you had intended.

“My apologies, your highness.” You looked down at your shoes.

“Is your goal to make me distrust you?” He asked.

“No, your highness.”

“Call me ‘your highness’ again and I’ll puke.”

“What?” You glanced up to see him watching you with an eyebrow raised.

“Do you know how tiresome it is to be called that all day? Every. Single. Day.” He shook his head as he turned back around and kept walking. “If I didn’t know better, I’d think people had forgotten my name, no one ever uses it.”

“What would you have people call you then, your high–” You caught yourself just as he looked over his shoulder in warning. “Sir.” You finished lamely.

“Jimin.” He said simply. “You should call me Jimin.” He turned down a hall suddenly, and then took a sharp right down a flight of stairs.

“Where are we going, your high–Jimin?” You corrected yourself quickly, but it felt wrong. The prince wasn’t someone to be referred to so informally.

“Somewhere.” He replied, reaching the bottom of the steps. It seemed that was as much of an answer as you were going to get for the moment. “So tell me,” He said as you trailed after him down another corridor. You had no idea how you were ever going to find your way out again. “What made you want to join the royal guard?”

You caught a door before it shut on your face, and you could hear voices from not far off. “Like I said earlier, I want to protect you.” You said, confused that he was asking the same thing again.

“No, I mean really.” One more door, and you found yourself in the kitchen, with servers and maids hurrying to get out of Jimins way, and bumping into you in the process. Jimin tossed you a roll before taking one for himself. “What’s your real reason? It’s okay, you can tell me.” He was out the other end of the kitchen quickly, and you ran to keep up. Several people stood in your way, and you were worried you’d lose him for a second.

“That is my reason.” You said, when you found him waiting for you on the other side of the door. He tilted his head to one side.

“That isn’t anyone’s reason. Now be honest. Is it money? Or power? Or something else? It isn’t a good idea to lie to me.” He took a step forward, and you took a step back. But there wasn’t much room in the corridor; it was made for the workers of the castle, not the royalty that lived there, and you bumped your head against the wall.

“I’m not lying to you.” You said. “Your safety is very important to me.”

Jimin blinked at you slowly, and somehow you knew it was a warning. He didn’t look mad, or even mildly annoyed, but you had heard things about royalty. They were taught how to mask emotions from birth.

“You saved my sisters life.” You blurted. It was a lie, but close enough to the truth. “She was reckless and nearly got herself run over by a horse and cart eleven years ago. You risked yourself to save her. I want to repay you, somehow.”

Jimin looked slightly taken aback by this. “You were there?” He asked. Did that mean he  remembered? The thought made your heart race.

“No. But she told me of your bravery. This kingdom is going to need someone like you to lead it. Someone not only brave, but kind. That is why I want to join the royal guard. Because you need to be surrounded by people who believe in you, and would die for you.”

Jimin watched you for another moment before laughing. “Well, that was dramatic. Jeeze. I would have taken ‘my family needs the money’ as an answer.” He patted your shoulder. “Don’t look so serious, I was only messing with you anyway.”

He shook his head as he stared off down the hallway once more, taking a bite out of the roll he had taken from the kitchen. You took a deep breath before following him, looking at the roll he had tossed to you. You had a feeling something had changed since the day he saved your life–a lot could in eleven years–but you weren’t sure quite what.

A/N I know this is short, but I just wanted to say that I haven’t forgotten or abandoned this! Thank you for reading, and hopefully I can update again soon. <3 <3 <3

“Ever After” drawing (I’ll protect you no matter what 2)

“In the next moment, they are moving through the densest of the forest, branches slapping at their faces and catching at their clothes. Obi’s hand grips hers painfully, and she squeezes his back just as hard. This was not the time to be separated.

There’s a startled yell behind them, followed by the sound of horses splashing through the river. Shirayuki’s heart feels like it is going to explode when she realizes that they’ve been spotted. Obi stops abruptly, grabbing her about the waist and they are ascending into the trees and alighting at the highest branches that can that can support their weight. Everything about it is a blur. She had never been able to understand the way that he moved, even when she was being hauled against him, but she trusted him to take her to safety as the sound of their pursuers thrash in her ears.

When they come to a stop, it is in the densest thatch of brambles that she’s seen, but she wonders if it is enough. The trees around them are mostly naked, leaving them uncharacteristically exposed and heavily reliant on shadows. The only real camouflage they possess are their clothing and she prays that the dark greens and blacks are enough to mask their presence. Making a concerted effort to control her breathing, Shirayuki pushes down her panic, repeating in her mind that they would be fine.

It almost works at keeping her calm.

Until she makes the mistake of looking down.

A bright shock of red flares brightly against the front of her dress and Shirayuki’s panic comes into full bloom as she remembers belatedly that she never covered herself back up. The world spins and she sways, only kept from tumbling down by Obi’s arms tightening about her waist. He pulls her sharply against him and squeezes, leaning down to press his lips against the shell of her ear. He’s so quiet she can barely hear him. “Keep still.” “

All credits go to @superhappybubbleslove.
I hope you like it.

Last came Anarchy: he rode
On a white horse, splashed with blood;
He was pale even to the lips,
Like Death in the Apocalypse.

And he wore a kingly crown;
And in his grasp a sceptre shone;
On his brow this mark I saw–

With a pace stately and fast,
Over English land he passed,
Trampling to a mire of blood 
The adoring multitude.

For with pomp to meet him came,
Clothed in arms like blood and flame,
The hired murderers, who did sing
`Thou art God, and Law, and King.

We have waited, weak and lone
For thy coming, Mighty One!
Our purses are empty, our swords are cold,
Give us glory, and blood, and gold.’

Lawyers and priests, a motley crowd,
To the earth their pale brows bowed;
Like a bad prayer not over loud,
Whispering – `Thou art Law and God.’ –

Then all cried with one accord, 
`Thou art King, and God, and Lord;
Anarchy, to thee we bow,
Be thy name made holy now!’

And Anarchy, the Skeleton,
Bowed and grinned to every one,
As well as if his education
Had cost ten millions to the nation.

For he knew the Palaces
Of our Kings were rightly his;
His the sceptre, crown, and globe,
And the gold-inwoven robe.

So he sent his slaves before
To seize upon the Bank and Tower,
And was proceeding with intent
To meet his pensioned Parliament


The Mask of Anarchy:
Written on the Occasion of the Massacre at Manchester, by Percy Shelley