#Long-horned bison

[canisalbus]

Building on the favourite animal ask, another Very Important Question: favourite PREHISTORIC animal? And why? (I've always loved gorgonopsids and pterosaurs like anurognathus, but a new favourite is aquilolamma the eagle shark. They're just very cute).

I feel like my top favorites are pretty pedestrian, but I like prehistoric deer a lot!

Megaloceros giganteus aka Irish elk

Sinomegaceros ordosianus & Sinomegaceros yabei

Eucladoceros dicranios

Cervalces scotti

#they're so big why are they so big #imagine seeing an irish elk in the wild #or a herd of them #I also like long-horned bison #it's hard to imagine the good old mammoth without experiencing some type of awe and reverence #a few years ago there was a a lot of talk about spinosaurus possibly being a good swimmer and I really loved that idea personally #the looong torso & tail short limbs and quadrupedal posture made it look so sleek and crocodilian #I have no idea if that theory holds any water but I think they'd be my favorite dinosaur in any case #answered #anonymous

[bovineblogger]

hi! i’m working on some worldbuilding and i wanted to create a kind of megafauna domesticated bovine, somewhere between a moose, a yak, and a bison, plus some bear for fun. wondering if you and all your cow wisdom had some tips or details to include. love ur pics of domestic yaks

this ask made me genuinely start shaking. give . give me a day and . actually no i can write up a real real real quick thing real quick hold on.

1. aurochs

our beloved ancient cattle!!! they used to be huuuuuuuuge and i love and miss them so much. they Definitely fit the moose+bison+yak+bear mold, and bc a lot of the representations of them vary u have heaps of wiggle room via designs!!!

2 gaur!

gaur are HUUUUGGEEE theyre the biggest living bovine iirc!! and their ears r very big and round like a bears...

tho unfortunately the gaur arent domesticated, they do have a domesticated cousin called the gayal!!!! but they look a little more 'normal' ig eifjsjsdjf i prefer the gaur

gayal^

3. long horned bison

another beautiful bovine that isnt arnd anymore..:( the long horned bison is the biggest bovine to exist !! im pretty sure!! and their horns were like... the length of my body gjdjfjndjfjd but theyre big big big and fluffy like a bear...

i hope this helps!!!!!!!! this was so fun to write

#asks #cow #cows #gayal #long horned bison #aurochs #barleys faves

[pleistocene-pride]

Cenozoic Part 2

#cenozoic #Terror Bird #terror #bird #cave lion #cave bear #megalania #siberian #unicorn #long horned bison #bison latifrons #bison #rhino #Elasmotherium #titanis #varanus #priscus #long horn #ice age #lion #bear

[gutsby]

Cry, Baby

Pairing: Joel Miller x Reader

Summary: Joel fucks you to the point of tears. That’s all.

Warnings: 18+. Dacryphilia (kinda). Unprotected p-in-v. Girthy, unspecified age gap. Daddy kink. Jealous Joel.

Notes: Sorry for using pussy pronouns. It will happen again.

Joel Miller was a man of few words in most every place except the one where he found himself about to beat the brakes off your pussy. Then he never shut the fuck up.

“Uh-huh…just a little more…I know, sweet girl, I know.”

You had your hands at 10 and 2 on the steering wheel of his ‘71 Ford F-100, but rather than driving anywhere, your ass was comfortably parked on the front of his jeans—straddling his lap backwards while you rubbed your half-clad cunt over stonewashed denim. It was hell.

You’d been grinding against the bulge beneath those jeans so hard, and for so long, your white cotton undies had parted to the side, and your pleasure was nearly stretched commensurate with just how pathetic you felt.

Your head dropped between your two hands on the black molded plastic of the wheel, and you let out a whine.

“Joel—”

“Keep goin’.”

“This ain’t fair!”

Without hesitation, the hands that were holding your hips tightened their grip, and now Joel was raking your lower half over his. Rutting your core back and forth.

“You wanna know what ain’t fair?” he seethed.

He didn’t wait for you to answer.

“How much she’s been droolin’ over me all night.”

‘She’ meaning your unfucked cunt, of course.

Joel then punctuated his sentence with a particularly hard press of his palm—forcing you to lay flat on the steering wheel, hips tilted back to him. With just one callused finger of his other hand, he found you soaked between your folds. He dragged it from your clit to your aching hole, and you heard him sigh, as though sad.

“It’s a cryin’ shame,” Joel said. Lamenting.

You were almost lost to the sensation of his finger rubbing you up and down, but somehow, you managed, ‘W-W-What is, Joel?’ in between soft, plaintive sounds.

Sometimes you forgot how much older he was than you. Sometimes you said he was just like the boys your age. Other times he had you pinned like this, breaths calm and cruelly measured while you damn near came apart beneath his hand, and then you remembered everything.

“You just couldn’t wait ‘til we got home,” he grumbled.

Using the same hand he’d been stroking you with, Joel laid a quick slap to your cunt, and you jumped. Your head narrowly missed the roof of his truck; still, you groaned.

“‘M’sorry, Joel,” you keened.

You weren’t. The old man knew you weren’t.

The hand that had been splayed over your back sank in. The force of that push pressed your belly to the chipped Ford logo at the center of the steering wheel, and with the added pressure went the blare of the car’s horn.

The sound might’ve lasted two seconds before you scrambled back, desperate, into Joel’s broad chest. A couple old-timers making their way from the bar to their cars in the parking lot cocked their heads curiously in your direction a couple yards away. Seeing nothing of note, they lost interest just as quick and kept walking.

“Sorry for what?” Joel said.

At the moment, he didn’t seem to notice, or care, that his truck was parked a mere stone’s throw away from the Tipsy Bison, and bar-goers were milling freely between the building and the cars all around you. His belt unbuckled all the same, zip came down in a blink, and his thick, veiny, throbbing, and angry cock came to rest between your cheeks. He started to push you forward.

“Sorry for— for flirtin’ with Tommy,” you stammered, sucking in a breath when you felt him run the head of his cock between your lips. You could hear a soft squelch.

“And Lucien?”

“And Lucien.”

“And—”

“And Dieter, and Frankie, and Javi, and Marcus.”

Rattling off the names of all the men you’d been flirting with at the bar to make Joel jealous and take you back home to fuck you became an embarrassing chant.

“And?”

“…and Mayor Garcia,” you completed, sheepishly.

Back in there, you hadn’t been too proud to stoop to a politician’s level, even. That was how needy you’d been to get attention, and now Joel was giving it to you.

As hard as he could—he didn’t wait for the ‘OK’ before seating you on his cock. You were simply pulled back from the wheel and into his lap, onto his stiff erection, and before you could steady yourself, he started drilling.

“Even through these panties—” Joel tugged at the cream-colored cotton he’d easily slipped past, “—even through that slutty little skirt, I could feel how wet she was.”

Your eyes squeezed shut, and your hands found purchase in the torn-up leather of the seat, fisting strings and patches of fabric in a helpless sort of plea as Joel took over. With the buttons of his dark green flannel searing a stripe down your spine and his grey-speckled chin coming to nudge between your neck and your shoulder as he fucked you, you felt content. Secure.

Spilling more for him, then. Seeping rivers down the length of his shaft as he breached your walls and made you his all over again. And again. Leaving trails of arousal with every thrust, and rolling your head, limply, into his.

“She cryin’ for me?” Joel breathed, “Or somebody else?”

As if on cue, his cock hit the most sensitive ridge inside you, and you felt yourself gush even more. Dripping now.

“You.” Your voice was raw.

“Me?” Joel’s degradingly sweet.

Before you could answer ‘you’ once more, the driver’s door cracked open beside you both. For one panicked, terrifying second, you thought someone from the bar might’ve caught you two—then you were stunned to look over and see it was Joel’s own tough, steel-toed boot that had propped the door open to the cool night air.

The truck was facing the bar’s front door, shielded only by some foliage and a hatchback car about half its size. Other than that, you were exposed to whoever happened to pass by the big, bay window and take a look inside.

Joel felt you tense, and he pressed a kiss to you neck. Then he slid you carefully, almost tenderly, to the left until you were perched over the side of the seat with your legs dangling out of the truck—still filled to the hilt with his cock and pressed tight to the front of his chest.

“Cry a little more,” he urged.

Then, when your pussy gave an involuntary clench and drenched him some more, he slipped a hand around your front and started toying with your clit. Your gaze was wide, almost frightened as you stared ahead at the bar and saw patrons making rounds about the tiny place, fearing one might see you and Joel, but it felt so good. And wrong. And reckless, having this man who was easily decades your senior bouncing you up and down on his cock and letting you soil the front of his Wranglers.

“Pussy’s fuckin’ soakin’ me, pretty girl,” Joel let out a chuckle and gave your shoulder a playful bite when you pulsed around him again, “Squeezin’ me real tight, too.”

It was like your body was beyond your own control. You scarcely even realized your cunt had him gripped with such force, much less made a mess of his old denim. He just held you to him and kept pressing rough, stubbled kisses to your shoulder, reminding you over and over how sweet you were, how well you were taking him, how nice and tight and goddamn pretty that pussy must’ve looked gushing around daddy’s cock—maybe we can fuck in front’a the mirror so we can see it later, huh, baby?

You would’ve said yes to anything he said, you reckoned.

Especially when his arms moved over your front and you felt him grin, and he hugged you while he fucked you—nobody made you feel quite as special while they were splitting you open. Nobody’s balls felt quite as heavy and firm and full while hitting your ass by turns, and certainly no one but Joel could make you cum just as quick when he leaned into your ear and said, ‘Let go for me, darlin’.’

You did, and you felt his warmth follow inside you with the friction of just two more thrusts. Your head fell back on his shoulder, a moan clawed out of your throat, and the warm, euphoric feeling of release washed over your senses in waves, one trembling sensation after the next. Joel’s groans were quick to spill into your own, and, likewise emptying himself, he held your hips to his and made sure every drop stayed right where he wanted it.

His spend was always heavy, but this load felt larger than usual—like he’d been aching to fuck you full of his cum. Just as you both were coming down from your highs, you couldn’t help but key in on that soft, sticky warmth, likely to come oozing as soon as Joel pulled out of you.

In fact, you got to be so focused that you jumped when you felt something press to your cheek a second later.

It took another moment to register it as a kiss from Joel.

Then his tongue, dragging softly up the side of your face.

You started to laugh, about to ask him what the hell he was doing, when you felt a tear slip out of your other eye. With the sudden, sharp influx of pleasure, the moisture had leaked out without you even feeling it. Joel grinned.

He gave your cheek a light squeeze, wiped the other tear with the pad of his thumb, and kissed you again before mumbling in your ear, almost teasing as he said it:

“Crybaby.”

#MEAN JOEL THE MAN THAT YOU ARE…….....… #MARCH MADNESS BUT IT’S JUST ME SPIRALING OVER OLD MAN **** 😔 #ALABAMA TO THE FINAL FOUR THO LFGGGGG #joel miller #joel miller tlou #joel miller smut #joel miller imagine #joel miller one shot #joel miller x reader #joel miller fanfiction #the last of us #tlou #the last of us fic #joel miller x you

[sushirrrry]

wrangled

a harry styles one-shot. 14k words. cw: age-gap, sexual content, spitting, spanking, squirting, dirty talk, humiliation kink, coarse language, dom/sub kink

Forte Ranch.

Kettle Falls, Washington.

June Forte is the 24 year old daughter of Travis Forte– the owner of the largest bison ranch in eastern Washington. When she returned home from college, her wishes of becoming a teacher in the area land her with a few different jobs– one that also includes the family business.

It's not lost on her that when she starts noticing that a superbly handsome, older ranch-hand who introduces himself in a deep-posh accent as Harry Styles, that she seems to lose a bit of focus on the picture: make enough money to leave Kettle Falls for good.

But, the older man seems to keep running into her no matter how many times she tries to leave. Maybe, she recognizes, that it isn't a coincidence.

When Harry and June are one day left alone, the tensions are higher than ever. Once June gets a taste, her intuition starts to let her know that maybe seeing the dimples underneath the brim of the Stetson is easier to lean into rather than run from.

He's not letting her run away that easy.

"Goddamnit, Fury– let's go!"

She pulled at the lead; the rope pulled at her hands a bit when the horse continued to stand his ground, obviously more powerful than her.

A quick sigh, a puff of air to move some of the hair off of her face. June couldn't help but groan at the horse's stubbornness that kept him inside the confines of his stall.

She had a lesson in an hour now. Not that it would have been a huge deal— the family that she taught for were very laid back, but her need to follow a schedule made Fury's outburst quite annoying as it would take a bit of time to get him out now.

The horse-riding lessons that she had been giving were supplementing the cash flow through the summer. Next year, she would be starting a position as a teacher at one of the local schools in the area. June had gone to school in Seattle; it was the biggest culture shock for her when she arrived in the big city.

From growing up on the ranch to moving to the big city with just what she could fit in her dad's pick-up–she had loved every moment of it. She loved seeing the way that the traffic built up everywhere in the early mornings, the honking horns, the sleepy travelers in the coffee shops every morning.

It was a learning experience that she had been blessed with. But, in reality, her heart stayed in the eastern mountains; the smell of the fresh air every morning gave her such a high that she hadn't been expecting to miss with her whole heart.

Living on this ranch, in this small town, had been in her heart this whole time. She hadn't recognized how much of her she still had to learn.

When you're young, you want so bad to leave. Then, you see the rest of the world, and you find home so much more appealing. It feels secure, it feels like a place that you can come back to when you're finished exploring.

It's a place to relax. A place to replenish. A place to house your soul.

Now, she say her fighting with her horse who seemed to have the upper-hand.

"Fury, if you don't come on," She rubbed the horse's nose, giving him a look as he tilted up his head quickly. "You're being so stub—"

"Might wanna give him something to entice him."

The sound behind her makes June jump with a fright, a gasp escaping as she had been lost in her own world. There's a man standing on the opposite side of her now, unlocking the gate of the horse stall. She hadn't noticed him before, so she wondered how long he had been standing there watching her struggle with the ropes her hands. 

A chestnut mare stands, grunts softly in front of him as he looks back at her. June recognized the man, which didn't seem to happen often. The farm has lots of people coming through, many stay for weeks– months, maybe. The summer months are preparing for the winter; she knew that a lot more came around at this time of the year.

But she recognized him.

There wasn't a person who wouldn't.

The man's accent threw her for a moment– not realizing if she had heard him speak before. She mustn't have, or she'd know the low drawl of a foreign tongue.

But there's a few certain men that have been around for a bit. This man, in particular, she thought. He wears his hair longer, a bit down on his ears. He pushes it back into his Stetson, the chocolate curls have grown every time she sees him closer.

He has a soft scruff along his jawline that was really only visible up close; a white tank top that has seen better days when it was a pure white on the rack. June lets her eyes wander for a moment before she sees that he notices, a hint of pink painting her cheeks as she watches that he seems to go on about his day without another word.

Not to mention: if you stared at him in the heat of the eastern Washington sun, it was entirely too close to see the shade of green that his eyes shone. They practically became translucent at how luminous they became.

June was a bit taken; her hands adjust on the lead as she watched the man throw a bridle over the large mare's nose. He clicked his tongue to get her to follow, the mare following him out of the stall easily. June watched at how easy it was; she knew Fury was a bit hard-headed to begin with, so it couldn't have been that easy no matter what he had said to her.

As the man started walking away just a bit, Fury took a step forward which helped June aid him out of the stall. It threw her for a moment, her body moving forward to help lead the horse where he needed. He followed, though a bit slowly as he shook his head when she pulled in the lead towards the saddling. 

"See, told you," The man spoke once again, nodding his head a bit towards his mare, "Men are always enticed by pretty ladies."

He had taken the saddle off of the stand, throwing it over the mare's back. June's eyes stared at the way his muscles popped through the sleeveless shirt, pushing the heavy riding saddle up further on the horses back.

"Going for a ride?" The man spoke again, watching as June hooked Fury up to stand so that he was secured. June hadn't spoken yet, feeling her voice caught in her throat over the way that he had been a bit chatty with her.  Her eyes drifted over to him, knowing he had been talking to her again which elicited a response.

She bit her lip, pulling up on the loops of her jeans that hugged around the curve of her hips.

"No, I teach, actually." June commented, brushing down Fury's neck before pushing some of his mane out of his eyes.

The horse chewed a bit, making her smile as his lips tried to nip at her arm. "Have a lesson soon. He's the best with kids, gives them a hard time but it's good for them to learn how to be a bit more assertive. He listens when you're real strict with him, just not well."

"Really all the qualities of a man, huh?" The man smirked; they stood next to each other at the station before June looked over and he had started to move towards her. His hand outreached, his eyes truly on her now as they became closer with each step he took. "Harry Styles."

June swallowed back, her hand moving out towards his as they locked together in a moment. "June Forte. You're a worker here?"

Harry's eyes shift for a moment when he notices the deep blue of her eyes and the familiarity of her generational smile. His tongue flicks out to run over his bottom lip as he lets his eyes drag over her a moment. June squirms under his vision, her breath halted as he takes his hand away and their touch loosens.

"And this is your ranch, I presume." He speaks, his words standing in the air.

June shrugs her shoulders up as if his comment didn't mean much. "Not mine– well, my family's, so technically will be mine or my siblings someday. My dad's dream was to own it, and I guess now he does. Was my grandads, and my great-grandads. He built it, and it's just a family heirloom now. But yeah– we live up there."

Harry's breath baited for a moment, a small scoff of a chuckle leaving his lips as he moved back towards the mare. The mare stomped on the ground, his hand moving to comfort her outburst.

"Guess I don't need to be flirting with the ranch owner's daughter, then. May be a conflict of interest."

June raised a brow at his words, feeling a hotness come across her neck as she moved to throw the big brush through Fury's chestnut coat. She faced away from him now, her head turning to look over her shoulder at the way he continued to smirk at her.

For the first time in a while, June's sharp tongue felt dull. She didn't know what to say as she felt some hair fall into her face as she managed to push the heavy brush through the horse's coat.

"Never been a huge rule follower, though." He followed up, pulling the reins of the tacked horse; he walked backwards out of the barn with his eyes on June– the shape of her body only let his eyes fall down and around her curves.

A soft chuckle came from her lips as she heard the clicking of his tongue, guiding the mare out. "Easy, cowboy." She called back, in a surprising quip, "My ranch, my rules."

"So now you're the boss?" He quipped, "giving me mixed signals, June." Harry paused for a moment, giving her a moment to comeback.

"Let's just say I'm pretty close to the guy in charge." June tilted her head, "But I'd say that flirting with the boss's daughter isn't in your best interest if you want to stick around."

June watched the man quickly bite his lip as if he was stopping himself from another remark.

"We'll see about that one." He called back, his boots crunching on the gravel once again, his eyes staying on her even when leading the large horse out of the barn. "Might be the opposite effect if I'm lucky."

June bit her lip at the thought of him– wondering if he had seen her before. Her legs adjusted just at the thought of his low, raspy voice. She hasn't heard it before, but now all she could hear was his words in the back of her head.

"Hope you find a four-leaf clover out there, gonna need it." June said back, watching as he moved away, a wink flying back at her.

She huffed, looking at her horse before a shake of her head made her feel a bit dizzy.

Maybe it wasn't the head shake that made her feel that way.

***

The following morning, Fury continued to give June quite a time. He was a stubborn horse, but she knew that he trusted her and vice versa. June never felt that she had a problem with him, he had been her horse for over ten years now.

June grew up with horses, riding and watching them was in her blood. She loved riding and watching people become more comfortable as they rode more. It was a pleasure for her to teach young kids to be comfortable and confident while riding, especially when it taught discipline and hard work.

Nothing about riding horses was easy– she continued to learn that the hard way. It took trust, and lots of effort to make sure that the animal underneath you trusted every part of you. The hardest part was putting your life in their hands. But, it was always worth taking that chance.

He kicked a few times, the young girl that she had for the lesson this morning was mostly scared that she was going to fall off. June reassured her that she would hold his lead, but that she needed to be strong.

"When you're scared, he's going to be scared," June tried to reassure her, watching the young girl— her name was Natasha, she was around eleven. "You have to be in control of him, and he's going to respond to you. But we can end the lesson a bit early if you're feeling some nerves— that's okay, too."

Natasha gave June a look; she was unsure, and June could read all over it. However, Natasha pushed through some of her nerves, which led to June eventually letting go of the reins and letting the girl trot some laps around the outside arena space.

"You got it!" She yelled over, staying on the fence, her eyes lighting up at the girl's excitement over her accomplishments of getting the horse to where she wanted him. "Let's loop around one more time, and then bring it back to the center."

June pushed her hands in the back pockets of her jeans. The outside training grounds was a large area of the ranch, covered by trees and small patches of grass. She tucked some hair behind her ear that had fallen out of the messy bun she pulled at the base of her neck.

A small noise caught her attention as she started to make her way to the center of the arena to meet Fury and Natasha. June bit on her lip as she squinted in the early morning sun that was casting over the field down to the bison pasture. The gates had opened, watching the man from earlier in the saddle atop the chestnut mare.

His head turned to check that the smaller bison calves had made their way through to the other side of the fence.

"Shut 'em in!" He yelled, pulling at the reins of his horse before the other ranch-hand pulled at the metal gate on the other side.

The field sat opposite of the smaller training field that had been built for June's benefit; she absolutely loved teaching, loved the elements of getting young riders out on the back of a horse to feel the fresh breeze in their hair. It had been so therapeutic to her growing up when everything felt that it could have fallen apart at any moment— this was her world.

Growing up on the ranch had been a saving grace for her. It was the yin to the yang of the city that she had grown to love. She had never had the opportunity to fall in love with another place like she had with Seattle.

It didn't hurt that these were the kinds of views that she had, either.

June hadn't been paying attention as she heard her name being called; her head whipped around as she watched Fury stomp a few times and start to buck and push the young girl. June watched her expression as she held at the fence, watching the young girl struggle with the large stallion.

"Hold on, Natasha!" June yelled, sitting up on the large fence before she cupped her hands over her mouth, "Pull the reins real hard to the left!"

She could see the fear on the girls face as she tried to brace, tried to do what June had told her to. She wasn't strong enough to manage the horse as her foot slid from the saddle and her body flung to the side and off into the dirt of the ring.

June gasped outwardly with a few curses as she ran towards where the girl was flung off. Fury moved away now that she felt safe enough that she could grab her and move out of the ring. She felt horrible not being to stop it before it started, not reading the language of the horse before it was too late.

"Are you okay, sweetie?" June asked, the young girl sitting up on her elbows as she tried to brush herself off. "You're not hurt, are you? Nothing feels broken?"

She shook her head, the helmet bearing her fall as she seemed to just be a bit more traumatized than hurt. The adrenaline must've been moving through her as they stood up, June helping her as she looked around the ring to notice that the horse had made his way out of the ring through the gate she had opened, ready to lead them out.

"Shit!" June yelled out, her head moving around at an attempt to find the horse that had been trotting away. She tucked the hair behind her ear as she turned to look around.

"I'm so sorry," Natasha started, obviously in shock, "I-I didn't– I got scared."

June turned to the girl, shaking her head profusely. "No, no, sweetie. It's fine– as long as you're okay."

June took Natasha out of the ring, climbing up the fence and over to the grassy knoll. Her hands landed on her hips as she searched around for Fury who had gotten loose.

"Fuck," She whispered under her breath.

She didn't expect him to get so agitated. She hasn't had that happen before, which set her alert on high. Fury was the horse that she trained on, and without him, she couldn't hold onto her lesson schedule.

The next one was in twenty minutes, so she needed to figure out a plan on how to catch him.

The first part of the plan was to find the horse that had seemingly run away and out of the gate. Her attention moved back towards the young girl, who had taken off her helmet and seemed to have calmed down just a bit. She rubbed at her elbow that had a bit of a scratch.

"You head back to barn," She told Natasha, "If you see him, holler really loud for me. I'm going to go to the other fields, see if I can catch him."

The young girl agreed, making her way back down to the barns where her mother had been while she took the lesson. She would tell them what had happened, and to make sure they could catch him if he got around.

June started up towards the bison fields– the ranch handlers had been up there just a few moments prior to the incident, and she may have an idea of where the horse had run to. The property was large, almost three hundred acres of land. But, with the number of trees and wooded miles, it would be harder to catch him than it was with the open spaces.

The Forte ranch was surrounded by mountainous regions, which was good for the bison and the elk that were seemingly farmed in the area. June's family kept bison and yak, which was separate to the ranches out in the southwest. Their ranch was green and grassy, surrounded by lakes and streams with glaciers and chilly mornings.

The summer heat didn't always feel like summer, which was what made the mornings so delightful. It was June's favorite parts about the lifestyle of working outside, she felt like there was so much more to see and so much more to take in. It was her own sense of meditation.

"Hey," June called out to the two men sitting on the fences. "Did you see my horse run by? He threw my rider off and fled, and I didn't really see where he went."

The two men seemingly similar looked at one another before shaking their head, practically ignoring her as they continued to haul a few bales of hay into a truck that was backed up to the fence. "Sorry, hon, no."

June placed her hands in her back pockets before she stared at them for a moment. "Okay, well, he's black. Long white stripe down his nose, kinda pink on the end. His name is Fury, but he doesn't usually respond," She blinked a few times, starting to ramble as she thought for a moment, "Probably why he's being a pain in the ass."

She could tell that the men were seemingly uncaring for her request, so she sniffled out of awkwardness before her boots started to move her to the other end of the field.

A good thirty minutes flew by as she walked along the edges of the property, whistling softly for any sight of where the horse could've gone. The sudden sound of clicking made her head turn towards the wooded area; a strike of fear spooking her as she turned. It wasn't that she feared being on her own, but something about being vulnerable ate away at her.

Her heart instantly dropped as she saw two horses, one ridden and the other being held close by the familiar leather reins. The rider in question familiar as she felt her lips quirk up in a smirk at the look on the man's face. She released the breath she had been holding in.

"Think you're supposed to stay on the horse, not let him run away." The deep voice teased. He had been holding the reins of Fury while riding his own.

"He threw my rider," She told him, "I was trying to make sure that she was okay, and he ran off."

"She was quite young," He commented, obviously seeming a bit worried now. He slowed his horse down, the horse standing in front of June as she went to pet down the mare's nose. It crossed her mind that he had noticed her earlier, possibly been staring. "Was she okay?"

June shrugged, nodding. "No broken bones. Maybe a bit of broken spirit."

"You know what they say," He licked over his lip, "Gotta' get back in the saddle." It was then that a smile broke on his face, which halted her breath at the beauty of it.

She laughed at his dry humor, raising her brows. "They do say that, but I'm going to have to do a bit more training with him. He needs to be better for younger riders."

Harry threw the reins over his horse's head, June caught them in her own grip. She looked back up at him again with a small smile. "I appreciate your help– catching him and all that."

"Pretty good portion of my job," He told her, turning the horse a bit so he could face her better.

June had started to lead the horse back in the direction of where the ring and the barn were before Harry stopped her with his words.

"C'mon, hop on," He told her, shifting in his saddle, "We're almost a mile away. You don't want to have to walk."

June's eyes shifted a bit as she pulled at Fury's lead, walking backwards as she thinks about his request for a moment. It catches her off guard, but she shakes her head.

"I think I can walk," She assures him him with a chuckle. He sways a bit in the saddle as he starts after them, obviously going in the same direction.

"Didn't say you couldn't," He remarks back, June hears his tone and looks back instantly, watching his eyes lay on her. Her stomach dropped at the way his gaze felt; his words playing off the sharpness of his jaw, "Also wasn't looking for an answer, just action."

June eyed him for a moment, almost a stand off from her spot on the ground. She inhaled sharply before she bit the inside of her cheek. She didn't understand the feeling in her chest that had anchored its way down to a bit of heat. The authoritative speaking of his voice made her swallow.

"But what if I wanted to walk?"

June watches the twitch of his face when she denied him– when she didn't do as he asked. When she didn't succumb to his request; which, she was learning was more of a nice way to demand rather than request.

The man slipped off the saddle, moving away from the mare before he was now standing in front of June with her hair pulled from her face. The freckles on her nose were surrounded by a bit of sun-kiss, which the man took as a reward for being so close. His eyes trained in her for a moment before he noticed the hitch in her breath as they were toe to toe.

June subconsciously took a small step back before she felt the touch of his hand on her wrist. Her eyes stayed along the collar of the navy t-shirt that seemed a bit pulled at the collar. While a contrast to the white tank he wore yesterday, this accentuated the bronze of his skin from working out in the summer heat. The warmth of the summer sun has bronzed him, leaving the ink of his arms darker in contrast.

He took a package out of his back pocket, the cigarette between his fingers and dangling from his mouth now as his bright green eyes have a playful lift to them. She watches him teasingly as he lets it dangle from his tongue before placing one on her lip too, waiting for her lip to catch it.

She doesn't tell him that she only smokes when she can't sleep, or when she's stressed out by something her family has said. But she doesn't say anything, just sends him a smirk as they stand toe to toe. His fingers snap the lighter to his, hers next as he takes a draw.

"Anyone looking for you?" His voice was as smooth as leather as he kept his eyes directed to the way her cheeks sunk into breath in the smoke.

"Probably." She responds, drawing her lips between her teeth. She felt the stare down but folded as soon the dimple popped through the right of his cheek. "I have a lesson that should be starting."

He shrugged, "Your horse ran off, nothing you can do."

June went to speak, her head turning towards Fury before Harry looked down the gravel road towards the home– over a mile away like he had mentioned.

Her words got caught in her throat before she can respond, just putting the cigarette up to her lips before she licked her tongue over her bottom lip that had turned into a smile. June bites the inside of her cheek before she looks over Harry who's already moving away from her.

"What're you doing back here?" He asked her, his European accent ringing a bit different, "thought you moved to the city."

Her thoughts ran to the fact that he knew that much about her. She wondered if her dad had mentioned her before, or if he was just paying attention. Either way, her answer to him stayed true.

"I knew I wanted to work my way back here," June told him honestly, "I wanted to work back home. But I need to save some money."

Harry bit his lip as he held the reins of the horse, pulling his over just a bit to start back down the path. It was slow, but it was moving a bit. June knew she was late to her riding session, but she figured it would've been fine anyways– she wasn't going to let her students ride Fury at this point.

"You're young," Harry told her with a chuckle, as if he was trying to explain the world to her, "You've got to explore a bit before moving back home. How do you think I got here?"

June tucked some loose hair behind her ear, "How did you end up here, I mean? It's quite far."

"Five thousand miles, give or take." He tells her, walking alongside her now. They seem to be moving at a slower pace. Either way, Harry knew that he wanted to be next to her.

June took a last draw of her cigarette, throwing it on the gravel. "Way too far for me. I'd miss my family way too much."

Harry flicked the cigarette, the ashes falling a bit before he nodded a few times. "That's because you have a really great family," He looked ahead, chuckling a bit, which June caught before furrowing her brows. "I don't miss my family at all, truthfully. Not much to miss there. So, maybe I just don't get it."

June nodded a few times, understanding the implications and biting her lip at his words. There's silence in the air before she takes in a breath and pressed her lips together then, as if she's trying to find words to help alleviate a pressure that she added in. But, he speaks before she gets a chance to.

"I just think people maybe need to take a few more chances," He says, "Live a little more freely. What's the worst that can happen if you do what you want?"

"Well, most criminals live by that narrative," June tells him, which makes him laugh a little bit at her remarks before she looks at him with the blue eyes that he can't seem to fully grasp could be that color blue.

"Within reason." He adds, and he stops mid step before he watches as she turns to face him at his abrupt stop in the road.

June looks at him, a fluttering feeling in her stomach as his body moves, letting the leather reins go before he stops in front of her again. It's the proximity that sends her thoughts on a tailwind of what could happen next; the adrenaline pushes in her veins as she stares up at him. He's closer now than before, his head has dropped a bit so he can really look at her, but she's acknowledged that, pushing her chin up to make sure she can hear exactly what he's saying.

"Maybe it's the fact that I don't like playing by the rules, though." The smell of the tobacco was filling her nose as they stood so close. His eyes remained deferred from hers, watching the way that the lips and chin were pulling up, almost subconsciously.

"Seems a bit criminal, if you ask me." She teased, tilting her head a bit as she begged him to look at her. 

"I mean," He chuckled, letting his fingers move up to her chin as he took it between them to steady her, "It would be criminal to let you beg any longer. Bit pathetic to watch."

"Not begging." She pushed back, pulling her chin away from his grip, which tightened his jaw. She noticed the way that her defiance made him react, which sped her breathing up.

"Tell your body that, sweets," He bit, "I could say anything, and you'll react to it."

He licked over his lips, watching as she tried her best to stay calm, to keep her breath under control. Her lips were pursed, her stance was trying to stand off a bit, but he could see right through her—he saw that she was trying her best to stand on her own but knew that she would fold right then and there.

It was the game that Harry liked, he liked watching how she would react to him when he spoke to her. She was young, practically ten years younger or so, he could assume—she was so impressionable and the fight for dominance was almost sweet. Harry ached as he watched her try to stand him down and his eyes moved to her lips before they drew up to her eyes, watching the ocean waves of blue.

June pulled away, suddenly. She gave him a smirk before she clicked her tongue to have Fury follow her down the road.

"You think you've got me figured out," She called, looking back over her shoulder. "Not going to work with me, cowboy."

Harry bit the inside of his cheek, watching her walk away. His eyes fell to the way that she walked, seeing the swing of her hips as a tactic to use against him. But, he did what he needed to do. He followed close behind, watching her every move—the silence in their walk back not lost on him.

"Something enticing?" June teased, noticing the way that his eyes had danced over her curves from behind. Harry's eyes lifted just a bit, settling in her eyes before he sent a wink her way.

The silence on the walk back to the barns felt good; it felt understood. It's why they both smiled to themselves, neither one seeing the other.

***

"You think I can really pull him?" June looked at Shelby, "He's older– I don't know, Shel."

"You aren't even seeing the way he looks at you," Shelby said to her friend, taking a swig of her beer. He's not taken his eyes off of her, and somehow June knows that deep inside of her, but she can't bring herself to look back at him. She's a bit timid like that; a sharp tongue when confronted, but a tail between her legs when she thinks of it.

The next night, June had gone out with her friend, Shelby, for a drink. It wasn't lost on her that the town was small. Most everyone knew each other, which made the Friday nights out on the town hard to avoid people you didn't want to see.

You really needed to want to be there, or you would be seen by someone you didn't want to see. June hadn't even thought of it when they went out, that she could possibly see him there. After their encounter yesterday morning, June had kept her distance. Not in a way that she felt was stand-offish, but in a way that felt like she was trying her best to let him come to her.

Dating and flirting weren't new to her, but the idea of playing this game scared her a bit. He wasn't new to this; they weren't trying to figure this out together like she had experienced in college. He was older than her, he had experience with this game.

It scared her a bit, because she didn't know how to handle herself in this type of situation. She wanted to come across as confident, but she knew that he had the opportunity to make her fold.

"You need to be drunker," Shelby stated, pushing her half-empty beer to her, watching as June wrapped her hands around the bottle. It was warm to the touch, not fresh in the slightest. "Let's go to the bar to get more."

June looked at her friend after downing the rest before she fully understood what that meant for her.

Shelby had gotten up, which made June follow her. The strawberry blonde realized without another second to spare that she had walked into the lion's den– eyes were on her as she approached the countertop bar.

One pair of eyes, specifically.

At first, she hadn't recognized him. Without the hat and the dirt-ridden t-shirt, she saw the way that the denim jacket hugged his back. The curls had a bit of bounce to them, and her mouth felt dry as she tried her best to divert her attention away.

But they were almost arm and arm and she had wondered if he would notice.

Of course he had. The scent of cherries and lime only made sense when his attention turned back towards a person who had brushed against him now. He had seen her across the room as soon as she came in with her short skirt and boots. He noticed the way that her waist dipped in with the form-fitting top and the slight curl to her hair.

He sat with his beer in his hand, a rowdy few friends were next to him as he kept his attention on her. June felt heat down her neck as she tried to ignore the staring but started to enjoy the feeling of being seen.

"Two whiskey sours," Shelby leaned across the bar to ask for before June looked at her with confusion, knowing that adding a bit of liquor in the mix would either make it better or worse—she didn't know. Her friend smirked at her, watching the bartender start to assemble their drinks.

June kept to herself for a moment before she heard a stealthy voice next to her. The jolt of her head towards him even surprised her as she licked over her lips at the way that he was looking at her.

"You following me, doll?"

June scoffed; her sharp tongue ready. "You don't think I have better things to do?" She quirked her eyebrow at him; feeling the closeness of them as she stood, and he sat on the barstool under the dim light of the grungy pub.

"No," He shook his head, taking a sip from his bottle before he turned to face her now. She was practically between his legs, his knees on either side of her as she stood closer to him than she thought. "I don't think you do."

He looked the same as he had yesterday morning; he was clean shaven on his cheeks, a bit of scruff on his lip and a twinkle in his eye that was undeniable among the green. A denim jacket covering his shoulders and tattooed arms that were on such display this morning. The hair sat longer on top of his head, just enough to add the definitive addition of chocolate curls.

June could barely look at him without her knees buckling at the bar top. But she took the drink from the bartender with confidence, trying to anchor herself.

"Well, you're wrong." June tells him, taking ahold of the cocktail before taking a sip and trying to play hard to get. A game she knew– a game she played far too often.

Harry watched the way she popped her hip, knowing she did it on purpose.

"I'm never wrong," He bit back, still playful. His eyes met June's, and she didn't dare look away. "So, try again."

June cleared her throat, standing against the bar as she let a breath out. What she hadn't anticipated was the way that his bent knee fell behind her own, pulling her closer between his legs at the busy bar.

June went to speak, a small gasp leaving her lips as she placed her hand on his shoulder as she lost a bit of balance. Her hair fell into his face as she felt herself push away. The smirk on his face only made her blush as she pushed off from him.

"Go on," He urged, "Try again."

She raised her eyebrows, noticing her hand still placed on his shoulder. "What if," She cleared her throat, "It's you who is following me?"

Harry took a sip of his beer, lazily, eyes staying on June as he shook his head softly.

" 'Course I am," He bit his lip, "Who wouldn't?"

His honesty came across, making her feel a bit speechless when she looked at him. She downed a good amount of the whiskey drink quickly, knowing that the quicker it went down, the quicker she'd feel it.

"Looks like what I said about criminal activity seems to be true," She let the straw of the drink rest on her tongue as she looked at him, "You're a bit no good."

"Never denied it," He downed a bit more of his drink before he raised his brow at her, "But you keep coming back, don't you?"

Her tongue rested on the straw, playing with it a little bit as she felt the flirtatious spirit running through her. The cat and the mouse were at their height, now.

"Just gathering all the facts on why I should stay away," She told him, pushing her hair back off of her shoulder. The small top only leaving little to the imagination; Harry tried to hold it together as he swallowed dryly.

"How's that working out for you?" He asked, his hand making its way to her hip as he pulled her a bit closer. June took a step, finding her balance as she stared at him for a moment. He knew the look on her face as he had seen that look a few times before.

A part of him felt the words deeper, which initiated him to reach for his wallet.

"Mind if you let me drive you home?" His voice was thick with a dry, hoarseness that only solidified her position backing into his lap.

June practically melted at his touch, his hand on her hip as she nodded a few times before turning towards him then.

"Don't think that should be a problem." She muttered over the music playing across the bar.

June's eyes found Shelby who was standing at the bar, just a few people over before she winked at them. She moved away, just so that Harry could stand on his feet as she watched the man throw a fifty down on the counter to cover the drinks.

"Drinking fifty dollars' worth and then driving me home?" Her attention turned towards the man as he gave her a lazy smile. "Feels a bit dangerous to get in the car with a drunk stranger."

"Feel like it's my job to pay for you too if I'm getting you to leave your friend to come spend time with me, hm?" Harry walked backwards a bit, reaching for her hand before they reached the door to the bar. "You looked like you were having a good time. But I got something to show you."

Her hand fit into his, her breathing escalating just a bit at the way that he maneuvered her grip, making his stronger instantly as he led them back to the Ford pickup he sport around town.

"I was having a good time," She tells him with a bit of a flirty essence, one that held a bit of attitude as far as he was concerned, "And now you're taking me from it. Wherever you're taking me must be pretty good."

Harry bit on his lip as he sniffles, scrunching his nose at her comment. Her comment only pressing his buttons.

"I'd apologize but I don't know if I'm sorry." He commented, cocking his head.

"You'll only have to apologize if I'm left disappointed–"

When they reached the blue pick-up, his hands instantly grabbed at her hips. They pushed her body into the iron to hold her captive against the side of the truck. It wasn't hard enough to hurt her, but hard enough to ground her. She hoped there'd be a small amount of pain as a reminder of the moment.

"You're not gonna question me, are you?" He asked her with the softest voice; the threat in his tone only heightened her senses as she flinched at the way he spoke.

The inside of her thighs fluttered at his growl of a voice. "N-No," June answered, "No, no, never."

His lips brushed against the side of her ear, pulling his body away from her just for a moment before he nodded and found the moment to understand her.

"Good girl," He praised, moving his hands upwards to her waist. The slim part of her torso melted into a perfect hourglass figure. Her hips were wide and held his sight, but his hands loved the feeling of the curve.

June's breath halted at the way that he held her– at first with a physical grip so tight, and then an invisible string of persistence.

The small pub rested just on the outskirts, in the mountains, but just far enough from the ranch. The radio played lightly; the windows were rolled down as the horizon line were just baring a bit of light.

Harry had driven the truck up to one of the horse barns that sat just close to June's guest house, where she had been staying. It was a bit further on the property, but she drove past it almost every day.

"What are we doing here?" She questioned him before he opened the door. He went to the other side to help her out, taking her hand as she jumped down. He had taken her waist in his hands to help her, the touch of him on her was enough to make her breathing hitch.

"Have something to show you, I told you." He said, taking her hand in his as he led her back up to the darkened barn. When they arrived at the open door, he flickered on a switch that gave the large space a bit of light.

When they both walked into the small barn, the only lights were overhead, the sound of the crickets chirping filled the silence. June followed Harry's lead before she noticed that they stopped at the stall at the end of the row, down closer to the tack room.

"Here we are," Harry nodded, leaning his arms on the side of the stall gate. When June turned towards the mother horse and baby that were laying on the ground before them. She felt her heart melt at the sight of the small, brown foal that had two white spots on the top of its forehead.

"Oh my god," She gasped, watching as Harry smiled at her surprise. "Aren't they the sweetest thing?"

"He was born this morning," Harry leaned against the gate, watching the two horses on the ground before he turned back to June. The mare simply in awe of the small baby, seemingly tired as she laid next to him. "Needs a name."

"The ranch has a history of naming them after the stars, you know," June tells him, walking over to the little foal. His legs tucked under him, two bright white spots perfectly in the middle of his forehead.

June leans down a bit, hesitant not to scare him. Her hand reaches out to pet the small foal before she runs over hand over the white spots.

"Well, mum is Forager of Stardust," He tells her, keeping against the gate with his arms crossed, "So, we'll keep it in the family."

June starts to giggle as she turns back to Harry, eyes wide, "Ziggy Stardust– hands down, has to be."

"Ziggy Stardust? Alright, then. Sounds like a perfect name to me." Harry questions with a laugh; his smile becoming a bit more than the typical lazy one he likes to sport. June noticed that the crinkles by his eyes were a bit more defined, her nods insinuating her answer.

June turned back to the little foal before watching as his dark brown eyes blinked a few times with the lashes so long and fluttered. Her heart was built from the small creatures around the farm, the life that had been put into this lifestyle.

It reminded her of the sweetness; the parts of her life that continued to only get better the older she got and the more she enjoyed the peacefulness of simplicity.

This was it– this was the simplicity she craved. The rebirth, the gentle touches that reminded her of what life really was all about. She loved watching the ranch run on its own, watching as it grew everyday with small details.

Harry had moved towards a bale of hay that sat in the corner, taking a seat on it as he leaned against the stable wall. He watched June nuzzling the foal before she turned her head towards him again. He gave her a tilted smirk, dimple pressing into his cheek as he watched the nurturing love that nestled out of her.

"Did you grow up on a farm?" She asked, looking back at him before standing up from her spot. She managed to make her way through the tall stable hay before taking a seat on the bale with him. The small spot was snug, but neither of them seemed to mind.

"I did," He nodded a few times, "But it was a lot different. Sheep and goat, mostly. England is also a bit flatter, so it was a lot easier to ride than it is here. But I just figured that this would be a bit of an adventure."

"Think you made a good choice?" June asked, crossing her arms as her legs settled straight out just like his.

Harry raised his brows before he felt that he couldn't stop himself from smiling all the sudden. He wanted to believe that the few beers had something to do with it, hours ago now, but he knew that it wasn't. His eyes were downcast as he started to nod a few times.

"The views here are incredible." He answered, looking up at her, "But the scenery around here is good, too."

June nodded a few times, sniffling.

Harry decided to return the question, looking back at her. "Do you think you made the right choice coming back home? Assuming you liked the city, I guess."

June shrugged her shoulders, knowing that being home was always difficult in some capacity. She loved her family, loved the ease of being able to go places and knowing exactly what to expect. Home seemed to be a place that was easily accessible to her, all the time. Her family would always bring her back—she always knew that she could lean on them without an issue or judgement of feeling pressured to leave.

"I think I made the right choice to come home and to do what feels easy right now," She nodded a few times, "I think coming home from college is scary because you're like," She shrugged, "You feel like you don't have a direction anymore. You're in school practically your whole life—it's all you know. And then to think that you could go somewhere else and live a new life after that. It's just a lot. They're letting me stay in the guesthouse until I can get my bearings."

Harry understood, to some degree. But he was the opposite—if it wasn't new, it wasn't exciting. He wanted to see new things and to not see the same view twice. It meant that you weren't settled, even though the idea of settling wasn't bad. It was just different.

"It's probably good to know that you have a space in the world somewhere," He agreed, settling a bit, "I understand that. I didn't go to college, but I get that you want to feel like you're... you. And you're not having to reintroduce yourself to a new place or new people."

"My family knows exactly who I am," She smiled, "And that's what I want right now."

That was the truth—June wanted to just stay here until she was able to get her own place, maybe down the road. She could have the best of both worlds—one day she'd be able to live on her own, but still be able to stay connected to the place that felt so close to her heart. Teaching riding lessons was her only income, but it helped pay her loans and aided in her weekend ventures with her friends, specifically Shelby.

There wasn't much more she could have wanted now. Happiness seemed to manifest itself in the little things.

But, of course, after the small incident with Fury yesterday morning, she didn't know that she would have been able to trust him. It felt that there was more she could do about it, but she knew that his outbursts had been due to her lack of maintaining his trust and boundaries. He was also just an asshole half the time, and it wasn't something that she could put up with if he continued.

June sighed a bit, thinking of it when she noticed that Harry had taken interest in her sudden displeasure.

"What's wrong?" He asked. She blinked a few times, watching as he seemed to understand that her sigh was of annoyance.

"Well, I'm not going to be able to give anymore lessons until I can get Fury figured out," She shook her head, watching the man as he listened to her quandary. "I have to get him straightened out or I'll have to get another horse ready just to train on, and work with Fury until then."

Harry bit the inside of his cheek as he let his eyes move to the side, seeing if he would get the reaction he was looking for.

"Bet you're a real good rider, huh?" He teased, poking his tongue into the side of his cheek as he crossed his arms over his chest. "Probably give good lessons, too."

June pulled her lips into her mouth to keep from the smirk that was approaching, but she rolled her eyes instead. "What a line."

"I'm just asking!" He lifted his hands in defense as he chuckled out a bit, "Was maybe looking into some lessons to help you out."

Their outstretched legs bumped into one another as she pulled at bent knee up to hug into her chest. "I charge a hefty fee."

Harry shrugged, running his hand through his hair. The unruly curls were a bit out of control as he sniffled gently at the way that the hay tickled his nose. "I'll pay up-front."

June shifted her jaw as she licked over her lips. It was a bit dangerous, this game that they were playing. But she had an idea in her brain that she was going to take his advice.

What was the worst that could happen?

She sat up, back straight. Her eyes were downcast as she looked over at him, then. He didn't know how to respond to her stare before he felt the way that she pushed her knee over his lap. Her hands steadily placing on his shoulder as he looked up at her with a smirk that said all of the words that she desperately needed to hear.

"Alright, then," She sunk her teeth into her bottom lip, "Let me give you a lesson or two, cowboy." Her hips sank into his pelvis, pushing gently with the added pressure as she took a seat like he had inquired for.

Harry sat up a bit straighter, watching as she straightened up, too. Her skirt flowed over her thighs as he let his hands place on the outside of her hip for helping her balance. A smirk coated her blushing cheeks as she tucked her hair behind her ear in a nervous habit.

"I'm already learning so much," He teased her, waiting for her to make another move. She thought she may have a grasp on how to approach him but became nervous as she started to take charge. It was evident to him as she settled into his lap, but he loved the initiative.

They faced one another and she bit her lip at the way that he talked to her. He paid attention to her, let his hands get to know her before he pressed further.

"Dare you to kiss me, though." He said to her, watching as she gave him a look of confusion. She chuckled at him, as she shook her head, but he just smirked, "No one can pass up a dare."

She did exactly as he had dared, pressing down so their lips met. It was like finding water in the desert as she immediately pushed forward, needing more as soon as she got a taste. Her hips rolled at the feeling of his hand making its way to the back of her neck, almost like he was guiding her closer. He was showing her what she needed without words.

The kiss allowed him to press his tongue into her mouth which elicit a whimper from her, his cock straining underneath the jeans that she had been pressing on. He followed, letting his own whimper strain out at the thought of her pressed against him. The skirt not allowing anything between them except the panties he imagined she'd have on.

Deepening the kiss, he pulled her hips forward just enough that he was allowing her hips to ride into him. The coolness of his belt made her shiver, her thighs immediately reacting to the touch.

"You wanna let me take the reins?" He offered, his voice deep and raw as he felt the closeness of them. Her back arched into him, his words giving her a break as she nodded fervently.

"Please?" She asked, practically pleading.

It didn't take any longer before he threw his arm around her, picking her up into his lap as he found the grounding of his feet. Swiftly, he held her up on his waist as she wrapped her legs around his middle, holding on as they pressed their way through the barn.

The small tack closet next to the stable was the closest they got before he threw open the door and led them in.

Harry threw her on the table, letting her sit as he continued to let his lips fall over her again and again. With her help, his hands pulled the denim off of his arms and back, pieces of clothing seem to fall off easily.

He gently allowed his hand to move to the inside of her thigh, pressing down a bit to gauge her reaction.

Her skin was hot, his eyes were down as he guided his hand to the place that she needed him most.

"Please, please," She continued to plead, his ears ringing from the way that she needed. It was so innocent and cute, almost like she hadn't any idea how badly he could wreck her.

"Turn around." He demanded, pulling away just enough to give her room to move. When she didn't, all he saw was a deer in headlights, watching him for a moment like she didn't know what he was asking of her. She swallowed, licking over her lips as she got to her feet.

Her slow movement initiated him to grab her by the hips to turn her around quickly. His hand pressed on her back, pushing her to her elbows on the deck of the tack room.

"When was the last time you were fucked?"

Her throat was tight just at the words that left his mouth; her breathing racing as she anticipated the quickness of this. She had been waiting for it; hoping he'd understand she had been quietly asking for this.

"Been a while," She answered breathlessly, her legs pushed apart as he stood behind her. The flow of the skirt barely covered over her ass before he pushed it up to reveal it all. "N-Not that long."

His eyes grew three sizes larger as he took in the detail of the black lace that lay over her milky skin.

Harry pulled himself down, letting his knees sink to the ground. His eyes were level with the lace as he quickly let his fingers rest on the waistband, pulling them off of her and down her thighs.

She gasped at the feeling, his eyes never leaving.

"Goddamn," He commented, his thumb pressing softly into her. She jerked forward at the initial contact, eyes shutting as she leaned into his touch. "Knew it," He chuckled, "Knew you'd get yourself wet for me."

His thumb moved out slowly, her reaction exactly what he wanted. She pulled back with him, wanting to be filled– he knew exactly where he needed to get her.

"Needy," He berate, his words having a bit of edge. Her eyes flickered open as she gasped at the feeling of his hand slapping the harness of her skin. His thumb removed as he spanked her again, lurching her forward. "So fucking greedy."

Her knees trembled at the feeling, left untouched as he stood behind her. The sound of his belt made her eyes shut as he undid the button on his jeans and smirked at the way she settled underneath him.

"Don't mind that we don't have a condom, right?" He asked, his hand moving to the reddened spot on her skin that she ached took feel again. He smirked, knowing the words he would say would only make her a bit restless. "Can wait if you really need me to."

Her head turned around, her lips a bit raw from where she had been nibbling on it.

"No," She shook her head, "No– no. I'm safe, we're okay." She pleaded, and his smirked lifted at her neediness.

His hands pulled on her hips to arch just a bit for him. June quickly felt the teasing way his tip pressed against her soaked cunt, her hands turned white knuckled as she gripped tightly onto the wood. It was just the feeling alone– she hadn't even seen him, but her anticipation was high.

"Just letting you know," He pressed the tip right into the softness between her, giving her a sensation of euphoria just from how turned on she had been. She let out a moan, her eyes shutting. "We play by my rules. When I say down, you go down. When I say suck, you suck. No backtalking. I'm giving you the best fuck of your life, so you listen to me to get what I know you want. Got it?"

He hadn't even given her a reason to moan, her words caught in her throat as she nodded with. A subtle whimper— the strawberry blonde hair flinging over her shoulder as he moved it away. His lips found their home on the back of her neck, sucking gently at the skin.

"You're going to be such a good girl, though, aren't you? You would never disobey me, huh?" He cooed; his lips continued to ravish at her hair line as she threw her head back in an ache to feel the pleasure he was offering.

June's hips moved back gently, but his hands gripped at her before she could push herself onto him. The slight action gave him a sense of power; his hand smacking onto the curve of her.

The cracking sound familiar to one of a whip— she gasped at the feeling, her eyes closing shut just at the pain that radiated in such a burning sensation.

"Fuck," She whispered, knowing that she was simply dripping at the need. She had never been in a position of such need— she had never needed someone to give her what she needed in such a way that it brought tears to her eyes just to think about it. "I-I'm sorry— I—"

"I'm not." He stated, his breath hot on her neck. A coolness laying underneath—the metal of the cross hitting at her shoulder when he grabbed her hips towards him. When he pushed in, it took a fluid motion before they both moaned out in pleasure. It was a shock of intensity that Harry had truly never felt before.

Sure, he'd been in this position before— but like this? He had been with beautiful women, seen beautiful things. But the enticing scent of wildflowers and sweet vanilla only flourished as his nose brushed the softness of her shoulder.

Harry tried to keep his composure— trying to follow the red behind his eyes, but suddenly feeling the urge to cum at any moment which made him a bit nervous at the quick build-up. It was exceptionally better than he had expected; he had been more turned-on than he had thought.

His forehead rested on her shoulder blade; the small strap of her tank-top the only small detail that was between his forehead and her skin. Harry bit his lip slightly as he wondered when he would be ready to pull out to continue fucking her into an oblivion that would send her to the stars.

But he felt incredibly, incredibly close to the edge just at the initial feeling of her. He grunted in a bit of frustration as he shook his head to try to clear all the thoughts that had gathered there. The curls of his hair fell into his eyes as he shook his head. His hands kneaded into the fleshy skin that curved over the small skirt that still rested on her thighs. He had just pushed it up enough to give himself access to what he really needed.

Focus, he thought to himself.

"You are so goddamn tight," He watched as her back arched a bit at his words. Her chin turned to the side, just enough where he could now see her side profile. Her eyes were shut, mouth parted in a small, dainty way. "No one's fucked you in a while, have they, darling? You lie to me?"

Harry pulled himself out just a bit, watching where they connected as he felt himself slip back in. The tightness surrounding him made his eyes clamp shut. She felt incredible to him on every level that he couldn't think of anything else that moment.

It was dizzying.

"N-No, not like you— not like this," June muttered. The way that her hands gripped over the table in the tack room was almost pain to her fingertips. "You're so deep, fuck."

The sound of her voice elicits a response of his hips bucking into her, the rasp and grunt of June's voice painted a beautiful picture in his memory.

"You like me deep like that?"  Harry licked over his lips, eyes moving down her body as he moved his leg to her thigh. "Pull this up on the table— go on," He urged, "it'll be good for you."

June felt the pat on her thigh, Harry's hands slid the remaining clothes down her legs to leave her completely free on the bottom. He pulled out for a moment to help her lift her leg, balancing herself as she felt suddenly empty without him filling her up.

Watching as she lifted her leg on the table, pushing herself up, Harry dropped to his knees as he took in what he saw. A certain hunger elicits his eyes as he grabbed onto the back of her thighs, spreading them apart. In an instant, she felt the spit on her already dripping cunt as his mouth attached to her almost like it was made for his lips to wrap around.

Her head drew back at the feeling of his mouth on her, the knot in her stomach was undoubtedly loosening as she felt the nudge of his tongue against her clit; the feeling of his nose gracing her. In the last twenty-four years, she had never been blessed with a partner that would have given her the opportunity to feel this way. She had never been with an older man before, either.

Maybe her innocence had been brushed away by the complete raging needs of his wandering hands.

Either way, she didn't know if she could get any better than this. The softness of his tongue with a stiff edge and control, the scruff of his upper lip taunting her as he spread her thighs further apart while his mouth took her from behind.

"Could ruin you in so many ways." Harry hummed, his tongue dripping from her arousal that coated it. "You want me to ruin you, doll?"

Her hair fell into her face as she nodded fervently, her hand pushing the locks away as she tried to catch a glimpse of him but leaned forward instead.

"Yes— I want you to ruin me, please." Her voice was a shy, timid tone but it held all of the power of her needs. He knew exactly what she needed, and he would gladly give her every bit of it.

Harry immediately felt the words go straight to his cock; the feeling of arousal only tempting him further and further. What was it about this girl that gave him such an issue? He hadn't always been so easy to please, but something about the way that she moved her hips, her small movements only made him want to be rougher.

A girl that didn't know what she wanted was always the best— it was the moment when she found exactly what she was looking for, but never knew how to express it that made him cum the hardest. Harry wanted to push every ounce of her until she was begging for it.

June lurched forward just a bit as he stood back up from his position, moving to enter her once again. The slickness of his spit mixed with her arousal created the perfect lubrication that guided his swiftly back into her.

Deeper this time— much deeper. He held onto her thighs, pushing his hips into her at a steadier rate as the soft hums of her whimpers started to go deeper and become significantly more adulterated versions of moans. He felt the way he slipped in and out of her like she had been made to pleasure him.

"Keep quiet," He urged, "You're going to get us into trouble if someone hears us."

"I want them to hear how good you're fucking me," She urged, a whimper coming out as he slowed his motions to tease her further. "Fucking me so good."

He leaned in a bit close to her ear, pulling back her neck as her body contorted to meet his needs. She was in his grasp, only moving in the way that he needed her to. His hand pulled at her throat; the coolness of his undone belt buckle was against her thigh as he pushed in completely to get as close to her as possible.

The moan that escaped her lips was cut short by the hand that cupped over her mouth, which only pushed her further.

"You're going to be quiet or I'm going to pull out, do you understand me?" His voice was deep, low, and cold as she shut her eyes to the sound of it. She felt the push of two of his fingers into her mouth, a surprise at first. "Brats get punished and I'm going to leave your little cunt wanting more if you don't listen."

June hadn't felt this way in years— there had never been a man to satisfy the needs that had been built up in this way. It really hadn't been that long since she hooked up with someone, but she had never felt this way in her entire life. She had never felt this full— this satisfied. It was extraordinarily rough— it was to the point where she hadn't ever known a pleasure like this before.

She couldn't have imagined this.

"You understand?"  He says finally; she hadn't recognized that he had truly been waiting for a response before continuing. She had concluded that his pleasure was aided with being in charge. June couldn't understand the way that she became extremely, unbelievably pleasant for him. A few more thrusts pushed her to the brink of extraordinary delight before she dipped her head at the throbbing feeling between her legs.

"I understand— I do, I do, fuck– fuck." She whimpered out, unaware of the way that his thrusts had pushed on her enough that her muscles involuntarily ached as her orgasm became all the sudden wet— a solid gasp releasing her lips as she felt him pull out just at the feeling.

Harry's eyes darkened to a color of coal before he watched her inevitably drip down her own legs, the sight only causing his own mind to fall to a place of filth and absolute insanity. The gushing liquid was only a sight that he never thought he'd see like that– especially from her.

The innocent act was truly just an act.

"Jesus Christ," He commented under his breath, a bit taken by the sight. He choked back for a moment before he looks at the way he left her cunt dripping with need over the dark brown boots that had pushed her legs open. "So, fucking messy, aren't you?"

He watched the way that June's breathing heaved for a moment before he let his hand run down her spine— almost like she had been a bit surprised, like she hadn't expected her body to do anything like that.

Harry paused for a moment, watching to make sure that she was okay. Even in the rough moments, he watched to see if she seemed alright— his head tilting a bit as he hadn't heard anything else from her. A small coax from his hand on the small of back made him pause for a moment.

"Hey," He spoke quietly, "You're okay, doll, hm?"

June felt extremely exhausted already, almost like her body had started to fail her with how her legs trembled in this position. Her head turned back to look at him, a small nod coming from her without any words as she tried to find herself back in the moment.

It was an odd feeling in his chest as he started to feel an ache that went from extremely vile— filthy as he fucked this girl against the tack closet desk, to a sense of vulnerability that he made have started to push her a bit further than she was ready for. She didn't know it until her body was giving her pleasure that she hadn't felt before.

In an attempt to aid in some relief, especially to the legs that shook a bit more than a small foal, he pulled June back to a standing position. Her confusion on her face was obvious before Harry grabbed her by the waist to place her on the end of the desk instead. The skirt that had been pulled around her thighs had been pulled down completely.

"Get you off your legs so I can finish you off without you falling out on me," He told her with a sly smile, "Anyone ever made you feel this good?"

He watched the girl— completely wrecked with a face of pure softness. Her eyes were dazed, her attention stayed on him as he she shook her head. He felt better that she was conscious, even if he had taken practically everything from her.

"I can tell," He tells her softly before he tucks the hair out of her face, "Sorry you've been so deprived," Harry comments, "Would've done it for you sooner, if I would have known. Good thing I know now, hm? Won't let this happen again, angel, promise.

The feeling of their lips presses together as June grabs at her thigh so that Harry can move into the position between her legs once again. His tongue tastes like tobacco, a hint of the gum that he had been chewing.

Harry pressed the tip of his cock back into her to finish what he had started. His muscles ached in his abdomen as he felt himself tense at the feeling through a few more thrusts as he faced her now.

"Feels so, so good," June's words had whimpered out of her, a bit surprising at how quiet she had been and started to become even more so. "I-I'm— it's— fuck. Please, please more."

Harry's hands had made their way to her hips, making sure she had been pulled completely to the front of the desk so that he could feel her deeper. His vision moved down to the place where they connected; a hint of heat on the back of his neck as he thought of the moment more intrinsically.

"C'mon," He coaxed, their noses brush as he lets his forehead rest against hers. His breathing hitched for a moment as he felt her hand move to grab at his bicep. "C'mon, give me one more. You can do it."

His hips snapped further into her; June breathed into his mouth with a hot gasp as she screwed her eyes shut at the feeling of his cock nudging at a place that elicit such a firework of intensity that she hadn't ever felt before. It didn't matter how many college nights, bar hookups, serious relationships— none of those had the control that Harry had over her.

This was a feeling that he had crafted to ensure that the other person felt extraordinarily vulnerable and taken. She recognized that she wasn't the first, and certainly wouldn't be the last. 

She was okay to just be his right now.

"Mm," She bit on her lip at the thought of what had caused her to be sent over the edge prior. She wanted to know what to ask for; she didn't know what she needed, but she was certainly going to try. "W-Want you to...to c-call me a slut," she said with a small voice, just heard between them. Her eyes had turned away from him with a sheepish-shy feeling. "Need it."

Harry paused for a moment before he let his hand move to underneath her chin, propping her up to look into his eyes. He needed her to say it to him— needed to see her embarrassed and shy, wanting him to treat her like a one-night rather than a forever.

"I only call it like it is," He tells her with a grin carved like a devil, "I just have to call you a slut so you drench my cock? Is that it?" He knew he had to push her further, get her to a place in her head where she felt sexy, where she felt loose to the point of unraveling. "Letting me fuck you in a little closet on your daddy's ranch— such a pretty little brat." 

"Fuck me," She whined, knowing that her words would travel if she were any louder. "I-I'm gonna–"

"Do it." He coaxed.

Just at the sound of his words, he could feel the way that she unwound herself— simply, he didn't recognize that his words really did have the effect. His lips part as he watched her body fully shake with a convulsion the wetness coated his front with a small spray of her. Drenching his clothes and their boots as they sat with gasping breaths, he stared at the way that her pussy reacted to him, wondering how his words affected her so easily.

She was wrecked.

"That's such a good fucking girl," Harry told her softly, pressing himself back in, nodding fervently as he reassured her. Her cry was let out of the feeling of sensitivity that came after her explosive orgasm.

His hand placed on the back of her neck, pulling her forward a bit as he snapped his hips harder into her so that he could reach a place of pure euphoria. He couldn't begin to replay the actions of her pretended innocence, wondering if he would ever get to see anything like it agan. "Not going to last—fuck."

In an instant, his muscles tensed with an aching feeling that pushed his hips deeper into hers. Harry's lips placed themselves on her neck, kissing at the spots with a gentle softness—he knew what he had been in for in this intense, heated hook-up, but his cock had found a ferocious love for finishing inside of her all of the sudden.

It was all encompassing.

"Shit– shit." He hadn't even thought of the repercussions of not having the condom but needing to be careless for a few moments of time. He fell into her grip, holding onto her softly as he felt their breathing becoming less heavy.

June's legs were wrapped around his hips like an anchor, her head sat heavy on his shoulder as he mustered up the courage to pull away. He didn't really want to pull out completely, knowing it felt too good to let his cock feel the tight confines of her walls.

He slowly pulled his hips back, letting the mess fall out with him.

"Oh, fuck." He muttered under his breath, watching the display of a horribly sexual sight. One that someone would pay money to see. "I've never felt anything like that."

The way that she breathed against the wall, up on the table. Her eyes were shut as she held herself up and wondered if her choices had been worth it. She blinked a few times, almost like her body was now shutting down after the intensity of their passionate love affair.

Harry waited for her to respond to him, to look at him. He watched as her chest raised and lowered, knowing she was still breathing, but seemed to be missing from behind her eyes.

"Hey," He pulled her back from against the wall, whispering to her sweetly as he felt himself breathing a bit fast, too. "C'mon, doll, we should go clean up. I think we can sneak out the back."

Her movements felt heavy as Harry tried his best to bring her back to her feet. When he felt that she was steady enough, he let go of her to place his jeans and belt back into place, watching her shakily redress herself. The quietness of the small tack closet didn't hinder them, as Harry placed a kiss along her cheek before he let his hands fall on the doorknob.

"I'll go first and then you can follow me," He tells her, watching her nod in agreement. "Front door or back door?" He asks, in reference to the small guest house that June had been staying in. Her breathing had finally fallen into place. The desperation of need still on her eyes, which only excited him to get her back alone.

"Back." She tells him, quietly. Using her words wasn't so bad, but her legs became a bit unsteady, so she held onto the table behind her.

Before he opens the door, Harry gives her a quick once over. His eyes land on her lips before he steps forward to leave a kiss along her pout, letting her sink into him once again. The taste of her instantly feeds him as he groans into the feeling.

It was about time he found the feeling everyone told him he should be looking for. It was a myth for so long, but just in the way that he lips melted into his was enough to make to him blush. Her hands in his hair at the back of his neck, the feeling of her nails along his jaw settled his need for the moment before he pulled back and gave her another peck.

"Don't be too long," He told her, "Don't want to have to wrangle you back to me." 

She smirked at his challenge as he opened the door to slip out. Her eyes shut at the way moved, closing the door behind him. A settled feeling in her chest only made her stumble back just a bit, letting herself rest on the table before she took in a solid breath.

Home had seemingly never felt so right.

#be so nice this is my first post on here #but it's dirty so lets go #cowboyrry #harry styles fanfic #harry fanfic #ff #harryff #one direction #harry styles one shot #hsos #harry styles x original character #cowboy smut #harry styles smut #harry smutty fanfic #one-shot #harry styles fluffy #wrangled

[12pt-times-new-roman]

moon people? moon people.

This recap reminded me that Orym's deal with Morri didn't specify which return trip from the moon it applied to, nor how many. He just said "return from the moon alive."

The locals here are rotund and short, tree-trunk like limbs, and a short but elephantine nose; they have two smaller arms on their sternum that are more suited for delicate tasks. They appear fearful of the Emperium and its agents. They call Exandrians "dreamers" -- they themselves don't dream (or they "have been told" that they don't), but they share dreams with Exandrians, and learned common this way.

Ruidian natives are called Bormodo; at a young age, they bond with a seita, a kind of lizard-imp companion that has a symbiotic relationship with them.

Liam referencing "All Quiet on the Western Front" is definitely not inspiring confidence here--

Ruidus' capitol city (or the capitol of the Emperium) is called Kreviris.

Wuukors are those many-horned bison things. Avadons are the headless moon dogs, and were used for hunting before being used as war-mounts.

The "weave-minds" are the masters of the Emperium, and are what connects them, the Emperium, and apparently Ruidus itself to Predathos ("the One Who Sleeps"). They're also the ones who grant Bormodos the ability to share dreams with Exandrians.

Dono takes them to meet one of the elders of the town/outpost (Razora), Barthi. They immediately ask him about massive amounts of lore, so let's go!

The bormodos are taught that they don't dream, and to them it's as lonely as it is beautiful that their own life experiences are never reflected in the dreams they share. Exandria is a folktale for them, something they speak of in hushed voices around the campfire.

The Emperium has been on Ruidus for well over five hundred years.

As for the creation of Ruidus, the bormodo's creation myth is that they were carved from the rock of the moon by Predathos and then shaped in the image of their dreams. Any writings that existed have been destroyed by the weave-minds.

Up until the bridge was created, the bormodos saw Exandria as their afterlife, the place they would eventually go to after death; the creation of the bridge, which allowed dreamers to walk on Ruidus, has caused a crisis of faith. Their belief is that their dreams are promises of being able to step away from the harsh lands of Ruidus.

The Weave-Mind is a council of old and powerful reiloran mystics who act as a conduit to the One Who Sleeps. They're the ones who trigger the flares of Ruidus, who control the capitol city, who tell the Ruidians the designs they must follow and kill those who dissent. It's unclear whether the Weave-Mind came when the Emperium did, but it's likely.

Predathos is also known as "the beating heart," "the dream-keeper," "the one who sleeps," and other names, but no one is allowed to speak its true name aloud. It is said to sleep in the heart of Ruidus.

These outposts were once sovereign villages that were overtaken by the Emperium and now produce materials for them.

The reilorans are another native people of Ruidus, and have been here for as long as their history tells. There are many other people who live throughout the varying layers of Ruidus -- and it is a layered place, with people living in its crust. That's where most of the food comes from: subterranean fungal networks and mushroom farming. The only available entrances to the network are in the capitol; others were collapsed by the Emperium.

The Dominion of Cruth is the military division of the Emperium, and many reilorans are trained there. It has its own governance structure.

Basically everything around here has Emperial guard on watch, and escorts are required when traveling through the city. Anyone caught trespassing is thrown into prison or worse.

Ever since Ruidus got tethered to Exandria, all the weird stuff these guys have noticed involves things or people being brought through the beam. Also, Exandria ("the Blue Promise") has stopped turning. But that's....... it. And all this does is raise more questions for me about how and why and whence the absolute FUCK Ruidus' planet-equivalent gravity comes from.

Out on the plains, bane-worms are a problem.

The Weave-Mind sent the Will-master Admuda to exert their influence over this village; she's essentially a reiloran captain of the guard, and works in the Dominion of Cruth. They did this because the Weave-Mind is gearing up for some kind of big event, and they needed the villages to start tripling their output of food, supplies, armor, and materials.

They also did it to suppress the Volition: a generational resistance force that's fighting against the Emperium, who have been more frequently launching attacks on and under the capitol. Barthi gives them the name of a reformed shrike, Zesh, who works with the resistance, who should be passing through soon hidden within an Emperium caravan.

Barthi has seen Ludinus and Otohan, but hasn't talked to them; they came through during the initial wave of dreamers who came through, when the beam first appeared. He hasn't seen Ira, though.

Bormodos see Catha as a silver twin to Ruidus -- some see it as where the good dreams go to live, others as where the bad dreams turn to dust, and others as what might happen if they stray too far.

Ruidian flares are considered "beats" of the heart of the One Who Sleeps. The entire landscape alights with a blinding red hue, and a euphoric dream washes over everyone there: it's not experiential, but spiritual. Like connection, all loneliness cast away for a moment. Not connection to a specific thing or person, just connection as a concept -- connection as a delusion.

Confirmed: bormodos do indeed have sex.

They do not, however, communicate with the gods. They've seen the symbols and such in dreams, but to them, "[Exandrian] interpretation of miracles is beautiful" -- Exandrian religion is the mythology of the dreamers.

As one gets closer to the Weave-Mind, who are based in the capitol, it gets "more difficult to deceive."

Bormodos don't have innate psychic abilities, which creates a massive power imbalance between them and an authoritarian government that does have innate them. the implications of being ruled by an oppressive government that has psychic powers while you yourself can do nothing to prevent or avoid that psychic link is, frankly, a terrifying thought and I will be chewing on it for a while

Just as the Bells Hells are debating whether or not to join the caravan or take off into the plains, said caravan (of Emperium dragging materials from the bridge landing site to the capitol, which contains Zesh the Volition Spy) arrives at the outskirts of the village.

HEY! sending works on the moon! Imogen sends a message to Zesh, and because they are beyond the leylines, it works. "I do not know who you are, or what you want with Barthi. I'm just here to do some business."

Shortly afterward, Will-master Admuda arrives at the door-- and to break!

They try to stealth and miserably fail. Chetney found the door to the basement, but Admuda does notice them, and -- on a successful save against FCG's fast friends spell -- we enter initiative.

"I didn't ask how close they were, I said I cast fireball!" Uh oh

After the fireball from Laudna, some of the Ruby Vanguard members attacking them run away -- but one, young, no more than 16 years old, becomes exalted in the middle of this battle.

Laudna: "did I do a bad?" everyone, simultaneously: "noooo!" the fucking hypocrisy--

As the boy (because he is. he is a boy. he is sixteen.) becomes exalted and casts telekinesis. Both Fearne and Imogen feel his exaltation, and feels that he "comes online" in this network of Ruidisborn.

Ashton update: As a reaction, Ashton can use erratic revenge, causing a random (1d4) effect to occur when they take damage. One of these things is space run, which reduces the amount of damage they take. Another of these things is presumably the thing that causes the attacker to make another attack against themself.

(possible Ashton update? Talisein mentioned "taking a defensive stance" at the end of Ashton's turn, when they hadn't used their bonus action yet. It's possible that path of chaos barbarians get the defense action as a bonus action like monks do.)

On the Will-master's turn, his eyes turn white, and every resident of the village's eyes do the same.

Ashton rage build update: When the gravity build is active, Ashton can't be pushed, pulled, or moved by force.

When hit with an attack, Amuda can use a reaction to use the "human shield" ability to cause one of the villagers around him to take the hit instead. This should tell you everything you need to know about how the Emperium operates. (It's not a reaction; as long as there are "human shields" within range of Athuda, he can roll against a DC, and if he succeeds they will take the blow for him.)

Orym's eyes go a deep, deep green color, almost like druidcraft, and he casts hex on Amuda -- which confirms that he did indeed get 2 feats from the latest levelup, and took the fey-touched feat. However, Orym is dealing nonlethal damage, so when Amuda uses another human shield that nonlethal damage applies to them.

Some Vanguard members also have the mind blur ability, which causes them to vanish from the sight of an attacker.

Ashton is a full-on Street Fighter protagonist as they knock Amuda unconscious and away 15 feet.

Possible thralls of the Will-master: *confused now that their leader is unconscious.* Imogen, immediately: "Kill them!"

When Fearne's fire emperor shard is active, she gets some amount of fire damage added to all damage she deals.

FCG update: FCG has a secondary spellcasting method, which uses a different ability score than WIS to cast. (??)

The commotion caused a stampede among the herd animals, and Ashton picks up a handful of locals and uses themself as a literal fucking meat shield (Talisein literally said this) to prevent villagers from getting hurt in the fray.

But Fearne is out here sniping the fleeing Vanguard members.

(For the record, Imogen has been completely out of commission for this entire fight. As a cloud, she sees that there are people running toward the village, trying to either join or report on the skirmish.)

FCG, alongside another reiloran figure from whom they may have just garnered loyalty, uses stone shape to conjure a ramp to shield both themself and the dude from the stampede. Orym does something similar, to knock another opponent unconscious -- and combat ends.

Everyone in danger is either situated in a safe space or is out of the way. The cattle rush through, but everyone dodges out of the way as they run through.

This is still a very intense moment, as they're waiting for something to happen. Barthi asks what they need to do to help clean up -- Fearne starts dragging bodies into the basement, into a hidey-hole -- they agree that the chaos was caused not by them but by a stampede. They pull the bodies back into the domain of the Elder, and we end the episode.

#critical role #note watches c3 #critical role spoilers #critical role campaign 3 #critical role c3 #critical role liveblog #long post

[markhors-menagerie]

†Woolly rhinoceros (Coelodonta antiquitatis)

Art credit: Roman Uchytel

You’ve probably heard of this animal before- a giant, woolly-coated relative of modern rhinos with a metre-long horn. It lived in a habitat which covered most of northern Eurasia for 100,000 years, before disappearing abruptly 12,000 years ago at the end of the last ice age: the mammoth steppe. This was a cold, dry grassland which often snowed, and was inhabited by mammoths, bison, reindeer, horses, saiga antelope, mountain sheep, cave lions, wolves, and a variety of other animals. Here, the woolly rhinoceros was one of the largest herbivores, eating grasses and shrubs. Humans encountered these animals, and cave drawings made by prehistoric artists give us clues to their life appearance and behaviour.

#markhors-menagerie #animal facts #animals #biology #fun facts #palaeontology #prehistoric animals #ungulates #odd toed ungulates #rhinoceros #woolly rhinoceros #Coelodonta

[ultrainfinitepit]

We're in the final stretch! These three keychains are available as addons in the Angelology IV campaign. They are inspired by the Spix's macaw, long-horn bison, and smilodon; and they are designed by guest artists @lesserkey, @ophanimgold, and @kami-scribbles.

Be sure to pledge to help fund these keychains and more; for your reference, here are the pins we have funded so far.

And here are the pins for our next goal at $15K, more information on the campaign page!

Be sure to pledge to @vile-worm's Eldritch Entomology campaign to get this pair of freebie pins.

And check out the other Pintopia campaigns too if you haven't had a chance yet :))

#angelology iv #angelology #angelology iv: angels of extinction #friend art #angels #angel #eldritch angel #eldritch angels #biblically accurate angel #biblically accurate angels

[monstersandmaw]

March's Patreon-exclusive story is up on Patreon!

Preview:

Soldiers came to Caersands in the spring, when the roads were passable again after a hard winter winter, and the rumblings of war with the island nation of Farshoal were kicking off in earnest.

At first, it had proved exciting to have company after company of soldiers — archers, infantrymen, even a small centaur cavalry-archer unit pf bonded riders and centaurs, and, lastly, an aerial squad with heavy, armoured griffins and nimble flying drakes. But after they had eaten the large sea port almost out of provisions, and caused scene after scene by getting drunk and rowdy, either with the locals or with each other during their off-duty hours, and making work for law clerks like you who had to file and process all the charges, attitudes towards them in the town began to sour.

Nobility saw them as little more than ruffians, and the traders and townsfolk found them a nuisance.

Tensions with neighbouring Farshoal put everyone on edge, and as the summer drew on and there was no sign of either diplomacy or open war, things showed no sign of improving.

Halfway through copying out the last document on your long list for the day, you glanced up when the door to your employer’s study opened, and the tall, imposing dragonborn lawyer stepped out. His long, spined tail dragged on the floor, and his usually bright, flaming orange eyes had a distinct dullness to them.

“Sir?” you asked with concern, setting down your quill. The enchanted lamp that threw steady, unwavering light around the small chamber cast the scales of his pearlescent body into starker relief than usual, and made the hollows of his eyes look deeper despite the gemstone orange of his eyes. “Everything alright?”

“Hm? What? Oh, yes,” he sighed, startling a little, as though he’d forgotten his clerk would still be out there. “Yes,” he said again, and wafted a piece of paper held delicately between his clawed fingers in your direction. “This was among the cases put on my desk today. The minotaur who allegedly attacked a group of civilians… A sad affair, I think.”

You nodded. You’d read through the summary earlier. A huge minotaur — and a soldier in the Queen’s army — had apparently gone into some kind of berserker rage and attacked a group of noblemen late at night. He had claimed it had been in defence of someone else, but the noblemen all denied it, and they never found the person he’d claimed to have been protecting. He’d been taken into custody and locked up in a cell in Caersands Castle, awaiting trial. “You don’t normally take criminal cases,” you said to Master Embershard. “Why did this get sent your way? And why isn’t it being dealt with by the military courts?”

“There are no other lawyers available to take it at the moment, and since the nobles are the ones pressing charges, it’s a civilian matter. Gods, I wish it was a simple case of property law, but as it is, I feel obliged to take it since everyone else has their plates full. Something doesn’t add up about this one though. We’ll talk to him tomorrow morning.”

Master Embershard ran a clawed hand over his muzzle and shook his head. The long, ivory horns with their rare, rainbow sheen glinted in the light, and the myriad of pale spines that ran down between them to emerge again at his tail, caught the light of the enchanted lantern. You didn’t know exactly how old he was, but you knew that the older a dragonborn got, the more thorn-like spines they acquired, and the sharper they got. Master Embershard had a lot of spines.

You read through the documents again when you’d finished your day’s work, memorising the names of the nobles involved, and trying to imagine what meeting this supposedly violent minotaur would be like. You’d never met a minotaur. They tended to live in the grasslands much further to the east of the country, and you’d grown up in Caersands; the capital of the duchy that sat on the western coast of the continent. The non-humans you were familiar with were selkies and merfolk, the orcish merchant sailors and the sylvan elves who came to the port city to trade their rich, fruit liquors from the forests to the north. Minotaurs were often found with gnolls and werebears and even hardy satyrs in the gladiatorial rings in other cities, but Caersands had banned fighting pits a century ago.

After a night of broken sleep, you joined Master Embershard and walked with the aged dragonborn through the heaving streets, keeping a close eye on your small purse and large bag.

Two burly orcs stood in fine ducal livery, guarding the bridge to the castle with halberds flashing in the summer sun, but Master Embershard handled the necessary introductions, and you trailed into the castle after him.

Caersands Castle had stood on the promontory of the curved port town for time out of mind, with high-reaching, crenellated towers and a keep at its heart that was squat and solid as a boulder. The rich limestone walls were pitted and stained with age, and the salt in the air sent blood-red rust stains trailing down the masonry from the iron bars and torch brackets, the sight of which put you in a jumpy mood before you were even near the dungeons.

The air grew cold and dank as you descended, and Master Embershard took your arm for a little stability on the stairs as you followed behind the rancid-smelling jailer. The surly man had a mean glint to his eyes and he had the look of a man who enjoyed his position. Cries and moans drifted on the air and you tried not to think about the crimes that the people down here were accused of.

At the end of the row of festering, iron cells, the jailer paused by a solid, ironwood door and unlocked the rusty lock with a massive key. “Careful now, Master Lawyer,” he said to Embershard, leering at him through the gloom with greedy eyes. “This one’s more beast than anything. I’d advise you not to get too close, even though he’s chained.” And with that, he stepped aside and stalked past you, adding, “Shout if you need me, but you’ll have to make it loud. Sometimes I can’t hear over all the racket down here!” He left, cackling at his own poor humour, and the two of you turned your attention to the minotaur in the cell.

Your breath caught when you saw him.

A single shaft of greasy sunlight filtered down through a tiny arrow-slit high in the upper reaches of the wall, and a foul stench filled the air. It was only as you saw a slime of greenish water tracking down the wall that you realised the cell window was only just above the level of water in the moat that surrounded the castle, and you cast Master Embershard a horrified look. This was one of the cells that flooded in the winter.

Master Embershard bristled, his arthritic tail lashing back and forth, then he braced himself and stepped into the room.

As he entered, the minotaur looked up and your eyebrows rose. He was huge; bigger than any orc you’d ever laid eyes on, with colossal sloping shoulders and the dense, curly mane and convex muzzle of a bison. His horns reached outwards in two short, stocky half-moons, steel grey in the poor light of the cell. He was naked to the waist, showing a thick, dark pelt that covered his whole torso, and a short little tail rested on the filthy flagstones beside him. To cover his remaining dignity, a ragged loincloth of undyed linen had been fastened around his hips. To your shock, he was chained from both wrists to a ring in the floor, and around his thick hocks, two shackles had also been secured and bolted.

Horror dropped through you like cold moat-water and you faltered on the spot, though Master Embershard had his wits about him and cleared his throat. “Ajax Heathclear?”

Read the whole thing over on Patreon right now, or join as a free member to continue reading the free stories that would have gone up on Tumblr, as I'll be taking all my old work down as AI scraping is affecting my trust in Tumblr, shall we say?

#minotaur x human #male minotaur #male minotaur x human reader #minotaur x reader #exophilia #monster romance

[best--dress]

WIP Wednesday

Thanks for the tag @artsyunderstudy <3

I am wip-posting for the first time in a long time! And I have a BEAUTIFUL NEW BANNER courtesy of @thewholelemon Jenny's Little Lemon! I could not love it more. Please take note of the unicorn and rat besties with matching tiaras, the bison with a unicorn horn, and the fact that the pizza has ITS VERY OWN FLOWER CROWN. There are so many incredible things going on here. I love it when kids make art.

I've been writing quite a lot but it's mostly notes for my COBB, a few lines of dialogue here and there but not much actual fic yet. But-but-but, I finally got a little scene going on my subway commute on Monday! AND IT'S AGATHA POV! I struggle with getting into Agatha's POV, and she's looking like she'll have a big role in this fic, which I'm excited about. (I love her.)

Under the cut cause it's on the long side –

I can feel that something is wrong as soon as she opens the door. Minty is perfectly poised, as always. Not a hair out of place. Matching hot-pink velour tracksuit top and bottoms, a new set I’ve never seen before. “Hi, Agatha.” She sounds normal. We hug. I hand her the crisps I’ve brought, and we go into the den. We watch an entire episode of Skins without speaking. “Is everything okay?” I finally ask in the lull between episodes. “Sure, Agatha. Why wouldn’t it be?” “I don’t know…” “I actually have to get ready for dinner with Samantha after this episode.” “I thought we were hanging out.” “We are hanging out.” She looks at me like I’m crazy. (I’m starting to feel like I might be.) “Since when do you double-book on nights we have plans to hang out?” “I already had those plans before you called, Agatha.” (I hate how she keeps calling me Agatha. Usually it’s Aggie, or Ags, or even Taggy – and I hate that one, but right now, I’d be grateful to hear it.) “Well, then why not another day?” “I have plans for every day of break already.” “How is that possible?” “I have other friends, Agatha! Why didn’t you call sooner?” “You know why! My school doesn’t allow phones!”

Hiiiis to @facewithoutheart, @thewholelemon, @ileadacharmedlife, @martsonmars, @youarenevertooold, @rimeswithpurple, @that-disabled-princess, @aristocratic-otter, @leithillustration, @iamamythologicalcreature, @alexalexinii, @cutestkilla, @you-remind-me-of-the-babe, @nightimedreamersworld, @artsyunderstudy, @mooncello, @onepintobean, @emeryhall

#wip wednesday #cobb 2024 #agatha wellbelove

[aestherians]

I'm no Temple Grandin, and bison are different from cattle in a lot of ways, but if my noemata are anything to go by, the magic of the squeeze chute is less "bovines enjoy pressure stimulation" and more "bovines have no baseline for how to react to pressure stimulation, but it doesn't seem scary as long as all four feet are on the ground, so it's just like whatever"

Squeeze chutes that restrain the horns are bad though. Fuck those things, they give me the creeps. My horns are my weapons, being trapped by the horns is supremely uncomfortable.

Pressure is fine, just let me move my head, I prommy I won't gore you

#bison rambles #therian #otherkin

[jungle-angel]

It Takes A Village To Catch A Menace (Rhett Abbott x Reader)

 Summary: You and Rhett adore your kids, but once they’re turned loose with their cousins, they give everybody a run for their money

Tagging: @rhettabbotts​​ Shelby, I hope you’re doing ok. I know things have been kinda rough but I thought this might give you a good laugh and cheer you up a bit

 No one could have asked for a better day than this, the threat of a long, hot summer approaching from around the corner and the Dutton Land near to bursting with the new life of spring. So many animals had been born as soon as spring hit, mostly from the cattle, but to everyone’s surprise, even the bison hadn’t slacked in the procreation department. Everyone was reeling with excitement when it was discovered that a white calf had been born to a female in Felix Long’s herd, a highly auspicious sign in everyone’s eyes.

Rhett, Rip and Kayce leaned against the wood rails of the paddock fence, watching the little calf graze with its mother, the cow clipping the grass and the little one sneaking in to nurse every so often.

“It’s gonna be a good year, that’s for sure,” Rip remarked, pushing his aviators back up onto his nose. 

“Herds are doing great, land’s nice and green,” Rhett added. “Couldn’t ask for better.”

“Yeah and in two weeks, you and I are gonna be uncles again,” Rip chuckled. 

“Because THAT horn dog over there couldn’t keep it in his pants!” Rhett laughed, pointing to Kayce.

“Fuck all o’ ya’ll and the horses you rode in on,” Kayce retorted. 

Rhett laughed but deep down, he knew Kayce and Monica deserved it. Sure, they had Tate, but after one rough ride, Monica had given birth to Jake, their precious little rainbow baby and Felicity after that. Now, another little girl would be entering the family in just a few weeks. There wasn’t a day that went by where you and Rhett hadn’t kept the family in your prayers, grateful for the lifelong bond you all shared with one another. 

The three men kept talking away, hardly noticing the smaller footsteps traipsing through the grass behind them. Rhett, Rip and Kayce turned to find Tatum and Tanner, yours and Rhett’s twin boys, Rip’s son Joey and Kayce and Monica’s little boy, Jake, running through the grass with something in their hands. 

“Whatcha got there boys?” Rhett asked them. 

“Nothin,” the four little boys chirped. 

Rhett, Rip and Kayce all looked at each other, knowing that nothing usually meant something. 

“I’m gonna ask ya’ll one more time,” Rhett warned them. “What’ve ya’ll got in your hands?” 

“There’s a wasp nest in the tree daddy,” Tatum chirped. 

“Yeah, a big one,” Tanner added. 

“And we’re gonna burn it off the branch,” Joey proudly declared, holding up one of John’s cigar lighters. 

Rhett, Kayce and Rip were suddenly overcome with a look of fear on their faces, almost as though each one had just shit themselves. 

“Uh oh,” Tatum said meekly, noticing the look on his father’s face. 

“HAND THAT SHIT OVER!!!!” 

“NO!!!!!” 

The four little boys took off into the grass, their fathers all hot at their heels as they leapt over the pasture fences and chased them around one tree after another. 

You and Beth had just come out onto the front porch of the main house, coffee mugs in hand, ready to relax and enjoy the morning before helping Monica with whatever she needed. All of a sudden, you heard the shouts of small children and three grown men coming up behind them. 

“Oh my God, what did they get into now?” Beth chuckled. 

“Well, I noticed at least three cans of hairspray and your dad’s cigar lighter was missing,” you answered. 

Beth almost choked and spat out her coffee. “Why the fuck do they even have that?!” 

“One of life’s great mysteries I guess.” 

You and Beth fought the urge to chase your sons through the yard, letting their fathers try and catch them for once. John’s heavy footsteps came up beside you, his gaze fixed on the sight before him. “Anybody have any idea where my good cigar lighter went?” he asked. 

“Why don’t you ask your devil grandchildren Dad,” Beth answered. 

John laughed and shook his head when a loud curse from Rip reached his ears. “I’m gettin way too old for this shit,” he chuckled before pulling his phone from his pocket and hitting the record-video button on his camera.

*******************

“C’MERE YA LITTLE SHITHEADS!!!!” Rhett bellowed as he, Rip and Kayce charged across the grass towards the barns. 

“No we need it!!!” Tatum yelled back. 

“BULLSHIT!!!” 

Teeter and Avery leaned out the window of the loft where they had been stacking haybales all morning. ”What the fuck are them lil goat turds doin now?” Teeter questioned, adjusting the Astros cap on her head. 

“No idea but by the looks on their faces, I’d say it’s not good,” Avery answered. 

“SOMEBODY HELP US CATCH THESE DAMN KIDS!!!” echoed Rhett’s voice. 

“Ight, let’s go git’em,” Teeter sighed climbing through the trapdoor and down the ladder. “Them idjits have suffered enough.” 

Teeter and Avery headed down into the main stables where three of the other ranch hands were busy feeding the horses. “The fuck’s all that yellin about?” Lloyd asked. 

“Them lil skunk-herd motherfuckers are at it again,” Teeter answered. “Ya’ll got the oversized feedin sacks?” 

Colby tossed her one and Jimmy took another before giving one to Avery. “What’re ya’ll doin with those?” Lloyd questioned.  

“Gonna go and catch’em,” Teeter answered before sticking her gum behind her ear. 

“Well, if ya’ll are goin, I’m goin too,” Lloyd chuckled. “I ain’t missin this shitshow.” 

Teeter led the way and the ranch hands all hurried to the other end of the pasture, blocking off the only escape route the boys had a hope of taking to outrun their fathers. 

“Keep’em steady boys!” Teeter ordered. 

The kids came charging over the hill with Rhett, Kayce and Rip still on their heels, clutching the cans of hairspray and the lighter as if their lives depended on it. In a split second, each one of them tumbled right into the feed sacks, the hands closing them right up as they wriggled and squirmed inside. 

“Thanks guys,” Rhett blurted out, completely out of breath as he took one of the sacks that had a twin inside of it. “We owe ya’ll one.” 

“You don’t owe us shit,” Lloyd told him. “Here, c’mon, bring’em back to the bunkhouse, I’ll make damn sure they’ve got the fear of God in’em for this one.” 

Rhett, Rip and Kayce followed them all back to the bunkhouse, hoping that this time the boys would learn their lesson. 

****************

“Are you shitting me?” Thomas Rainwater laughed as he watched the video John had pulled up on his phone. 

“No, wait, it gets better,” John told him. 

Thomas laughed and shook his head as he heard the loud curses and Beth’s remark. Mo tried to hide his laughter too, but it was no use. Neither of them cared who in that office saw them or heard them. It was just too funny to look away from. 

“I take it they went down to the fire station?” Thomas asked him. 

“Nope,” John replied. “Didn’t have to do that. Lloyd took’em aside and showed’em what’ll happen if they do it again.” 

Thomas and Mo each made a face knowing that Lloyd’s tactics, as unorthodox as they were, would at least stick with the boys for a long time. 

“Well,” Mo sighed, scratching the back of his head. “Maybe there’s an advantage to all this.” 

“You’re damn right Mo,” John said. “There’s definitely an advantage.” 

“And what might that be?” Thomas asked him. 

“If that bitch, Caroline Warner, ever comes onto the property again and tries to pry the land out of our hands, we’ll just sick the grandkids on her,” John explained. “Odds are no land developers will ever come back.” 

“Truth be told, I like those odds,” Thomas grinned. 

#outer range #yellowstone #rhett abbott #rhett abbott x reader #rip wheeler #kayce dutton #rip x beth #kayce x monica #lloyd pierce #thomas rainwater #john dutton

[amnhnyc]

It’s time for #FossilFriday! In the 1880s, no one had ever seen a fossil from a horned dinosaur, so when paleontologists first examined Triceratops horn fragments, it was thought to be an ancestor of the American bison. Triceratops’ skull measures about 8 feet (2.4 meters) long—almost a third of its body length—yet it was much lighter than it looks. Inside its massive head, its brain was smaller than that of a German shepherd! And in its beak-shaped mouth, Triceratops had between 144 and 160 teeth, which it replaced completely between two and four times over its lifetime. Photo: E. Louis/© AMNH #dinosaurs #triceratops #amnh #naturalhistory #dyk (at American Museum of Natural History) https://www.instagram.com/p/CeE1UVAvaBf/?igshid=NGJjMDIxMWI=

#fossilfriday #dinosaurs #triceratops #amnh #naturalhistory #dyk

[eggwishing]

creature design for a story i have in my head Where insects have become tha dominant species thousands of years after an apocalypse event wiped out all other life

i do t have a name for them yet Anyways they’re really smart critters n frequently shed their 'horns' (scute-like thingies on their heads) from a young age bc of how rapidly they grow in size, n they are used in toolmaking n stuff bc of their durability . older specimens that have stopped shedding their horns are used to guard smaller livestock. newborns start off like lambs, skinny squishy lanky and awkward n fully dependent on their mothers , before eventually filling out n turning in2 hulking beasts comparable in size 2 that of bison . they’re docile and only defend themselves if provoked ^_^ their tails basically function like a camel’s hump, they store a lot of fat which means they can survive a long time w/o eating . generally also have really thick coats which they shed a lot. n they can be found in any kinda climate. their fur is prime blanket/clothing material for any groups living in colder areas. silly little detail ig —males look like they’re kissing when they joust b/c of how their horns interlock . females lead their young around with their tongue tendrils (evolved proboscis or something), like holding hands!! N There are still dangerous creatures out there 2 worry about even when u r the size of a car, so they have dummy heads on their tail for some extra protection

#critters #ocs

[spacesurfing]

Dexthtoyounglings' Ghoul Guide!!

I posted this because I haven't posted in a while an I want to put this here for references for the Ghouls' appearances and habits. This will be edited through time.

This is my own opinion!! Not canon. Just putting this in here before someone tells me one of these is incorrect!!

•--•

Dewdrop

Long, dirty blonde hair

Yellow eyes

The air around him get warmer when he is mad or excited. The air won't get necessarily cold when he is sad, but all his body heat seems to disappear into nothing unless you are you close enough you could be under his skin.

Spaded tail

Scars all over his body and a chunk taken out the top lobe of his left ear

Short horns, like the ones on the masks but blends with his charcoal skin fully

Smells like cinnamon and wood smoke

Rain

Black hair, fluffy and the same length as with human glamor but when he's upset in any ways, it starts to like actually dampen. Depending on how mad he is equals how wet his hair is

Blue eyes

His tail has scales on the spade of it, like a mermaid's tail

Tends to stay near water like a lot because it calms him. When he is away from water for a long time, he gets anxious. Always get the hotel room with a bath while on tour

Also has short horns like Dewy's except his aren't smooth, they have ridges to them and fade to a soft white at the very tip

Smells like dewy mornings and thunderstorms

Aether

Midlength, light brown hair, usually has the top half tied back and the bottom hairs are out cause he's stylish like that

Purple eyes cause he's cool like that

Spaded tail

He's generally very calm because he's an air ghoul so he doesn't get upset often, but when he is, the air near him seems like it's moving and things will fly off shelves and move near him (but he will be very careful with fragile objects, he hates getting in trouble by Papa or Sister Imperator)

Speaking of objects flying, he does have telekinesis. So, yeah.

Thick boy with thick horns! He's got bison horns, just not as pointy or long

Smells like fresh flowers

Mountain

I ABSOLUTELY LOVE HEADCANONING MOUNTAIN

Short combed back brown hair, like look that up and that's exactly what he has. Very soft

This boy has green eyes, but the more calm he is, the deeper the green. When excited or angry they are bright neon green

Speaking of angry - when he, in the off chance, does get angry, you can feel a slight shake in the ground you're standing on if you focus hard enough

Spaded tail

Those curled sheep horns and they fade into a light grey, but not too light!

Smells like pinewood and new books

Swiss

Curly brown hair - short pretty curls but a deep brown and he has stubble for a mustache and beard (basically like his human glamor)

Purple eyes

Shaded tail

Usually very playful and upbeat so he hardly gets upset, but he gets really overwhelmed when he's upset, like hide away because he's overwhelmed type of way

Short horns like Dewy's but duller

Smells like leather

Sunshine

Short brown hair, very floof and curl

Yellow eyesss

Spaded tail, but hers is curved more at the tip

We don't really know her element - but c'mon - Sunshine?? I headcanon her as a fireghoul

She is very very warm and has the same thing as Dewdrop with cooling to nothing when sad and the air and her gets very hot when excited or mad

She's a calm sweetheart though, but she is a victim to her own element at time and gets angry every once in a while

Short horns but dull and has ridges

Smells like Sunflowers (you had that coming) and honey

Cirrus

Blue eyes

Wavy, silver hair that reaches the nape of her neck

Spaded tail

Actually very short-tempered for an air elemental but she has learned to control herself when getting upset - doesn't launch things like Aether

She has horns like a springbok, but maybe half the size (the photos I'm referencing have long horns, so think of shorter ones)

Smells like pumpkin pie and whipped cream; I don't know why but she does in my head

Cumulus

Very long, wavy hair, a dark grey color and to her hips

She has purple eyes

Never gets upset, the most you can milk is jealousy or sadness

There have been few accounts of her being angry, and it is always for the best reason, and she gets fucking mad. Like not launching marble statues but she is like a mini moving tornado and has to go outside cause she doesn't even have the control to not break shit

She has the curled sheep horns like mountain, hers fade to a light grey

Smells like raspberries and pancakes

•--•

Masterlist

#the band ghost #ghost band #dewdrop ghoul #sodomizer ghoul #sodo ghoul #rain ghoul #mountain ghoul #aether ghoul #swiss ghoul #swiss army ghoul #sunshine ghoulette #cirrus ghoulette #cumulus ghoulette

[12pt-times-new-roman]

MOON TIME

Most of where they've landed is completely obscured by dust storms, and there's a makeshift encampment built around where the bridge lands. There's plantlife, too -- mostly scrub brush and ivy -- but as they land they're immediately in initiative as they try to hide from anyone who might be in this encampment or coming across the bridge behind them.

There are MOON WOLVES???

There's a bell in the encampment and they ring it to summon moon wolves.

With a darkness spell for cover, FCG uses the staff they got to make a passwall through a cliff.

god the fact that Laudna is the only one who can see through the darkness spell and is actively giving directions to a blind Ashton to get them to the exit, just like Morri's trial--

The gravity on Ruidus is about the same as on Exandria -- it differs slightly, but not enough to impact their movement or anything.

Also, it's a great little detail that there are also reilorans on this side of the bridge that are scared shitless of this conflict just like some of the Vanguard members were on the Exandria side.

Nope, they're not moon wolves, they're moon lizard-panthers with a jaw like that one fucked up drawing of Yoshi, and the reilorans are riding them.

Once again, FCG's abysmal spell save DC is a genuine problem. Like, I get that Sam's bit is that he doesn't know how to build a cleric, but having a spell save of 15 at level 11 is...... riding a line, for sure.

FCG update: "It's not luck, it's faith, so it's okay." Their Changebringer coin gives them a luck point (presumably once per day). They reroll a nat1 stealth check to save the fucking day as the Bells Hells flee into the encampment and hide amongst the Ruby Vanguard members. Interestingly, Sam is playing it like FCG didn't actively use the coin, rather that FCG believes it just spontaneously happened at the will of the Changebringer, which is actually really fucking cool.

Distractions save the day, and they successfully cast gaseous form to escape. As they do, they get some info about Ruidus' atmosphere: though there aren't active storms at the moment, there is a constant wind.

MID-SESSION LEVEL-UP! I'll have a separate post for this :)

With a nat20, Chetney is able to guide them as they traverse across the surface of Ruidus as gaseous clouds. He uses Exandria to determine the direction they're traveling, which means that Ruidus is not only tidally locked to Exandria, but that it is also orbiting at the same speed Exandria is rotating -- it's literally tethered by a rigid line.

They're trying to make for the city that they saw in Ira's scatterscope, but it's a long way off, and they need to rest.

Rather than being the occasional storm or hurricane on a clear surface, Ruidus' atmosphere looks more like an occasional clearing, an occasional eye of the storm, in a sea of hurricanes and dust. (a Hamilton reference? in MY 2024??)

As they fly, they see 13 beasts gliding through the storm: they're buffalo-like, with six legs and high haunches, bolting across the surface of Ruidus and leaving cracked earth in their wake. They have furry hides that curl around over a dozen horns that wreath their face, running at a full sprint toward a dust storm. (Travis provides us with some top-tier Texan insight: buffalo and bison will charge toward a dust storm to get through it faster.) The creatures are bovine, vegetarians (square, flat teeth), and prey animals. There are a handful of younger ones, but full-grown, they're about 10 feet long.

They leave the buffalo alone, though, and find shelter in a nearby mountain range to take a short rest. They find that it's cold here; the storm cause the temperature to drop.

In the cave they're resting in, they find the remnants of an old camp. Chetney uses grim psychometry on it, and finds that it was used by a traveler sheltering from a storm; the traveler's mount bolts, and is swallowed by something in the wastes. They still, hold their breath, but the ground beneath them quates -- they try to find somewhere to escape, upward, to the surface, but there is no escape, and the shadows take the traveler, too.

There's definitely no connection whatsoever between the thing in the crust of Ruidus and the fissures that open throughout the Hellcatch Valley. Nope, none at all

As Imogen rests, she notices that there's an ever-present reddish energy that sits around her and the entire landscape. It's like she can see the magnetic field of a planet, but it's centered on her and Fearne -- centered on the Ruidis-born. It's like that energy never went away, was never expended -- there's an ethereal tether between Imogen and Fearne.

Also, this might be nothing, but Matt refers to Ruidus as a "planet" multiple times here.

It's like all the Ruidis-born are part of a living network -- and Fearne and Imogen both gain an additional character feat: they can "share magic." Imogen can expend her sorcery points to give Fearne spell slots, and Fearne can expend spell slots to give Imogen sorcery points.

This basically confirms that everyone else in the Bells Hells is not Ruidus-born; but it does raise questions about whether Fearne and Imogen can sap spell slots/sorcery points from people like Otohan or Liliana, and vice versa.

Chetney will keep his eyes peeled for "anything Seelie in nature." Again, this definitely has no implications regarding his shadow-touched feat whatsoever.

As they rest, Imogen reaches out to Predathos. It doesn't take long for the feeling to take her, the feeling of dropping out of her own consciousness -- "you feel that overwhelming presence, that vibrates like the most ancient snore. You feel that connection, that welcoming earnest draw, like you've never belonged to anything more in your life, and you feel that tug down. Down. Down. And then you feel it shift as it notices you. You hear in your mind, in your soul, in every atom of your body, you feel it -- welcome home. Join us. Wake us. They're not even words, they're just emotions that your brain can try to comprehend -- the way that it swallows you, shapes you, the steel will you tried to build just breaks you, and you let it all in. When you do, you are pulled deeper into the darkness, and you can see hundreds of little red lights here -- so many of them. One that looks like Fearne, one that looks like your mother -- and they're all moving down. And you feel all of you -- connected and networked, and they're all looking toward you. You hear them once more. Wake us. Do you resist? [Yes.] The series of red threads, bridges between all of these Ruidus-born -- they gather, and are still gathering, for what purpose you don't understand but now you do -- to wake them, wake it -- they get stronger, and you pull back, and in the memory of being a child being lost in these dreams, you scream, and the darkness shatters." Imogen's eyes, her spiderweb scars, glow red like an ember, and Laudna cradles her.

Whatever is sleeping inside Ruidus, it isn't awake yet. There is still time. But Imogen doesn't know if she can fight it again -- and she denies that she herself is the "Chosen One." It's everyone, every single Ruidus-born -- including her, including her mother, including Fearne.

Orym thinks that Imogen is their way in, their way through. He is pressuring Imogen, not to give in to it, but to feign complacency. But Chetney has a different idea, and Laudna agrees: that Imogen might be the key, not to Predathos' salvation but to its undoing.

This entire conversation has the air of someone trying to figure out the end-game while they're 1/3rds through the book.

They remember the Emperium, which very much sounds like a faction of Reilorans who want to preserve Ruidus as it is without the influence of either Predathos or Exandria.

During that vision, Imogen saw that there were maybe two dozen exaltants, the "true, final evolution of what the Ruidus-born was intended to eventually be" -- and dozens of others, like Fearne, who supported that network.

Otohan and Liliana are both exaltant, but we know for a fact that Ludinus Da'leth is not Ruidus-born. We got hat ages ago, when we learned that he was jealous of Ruidus-born -- unless that jealousy was feigned, in which case we need to completely reevaluate Ludinus' intelligence.

To be 100% honest, I'm still pretty sure that Ludinus is a warlock with maxed charisma, not a wizard with maxed intelligence.

Orym recognizes that with Imogen, the things that makes her the Bells Hells greatest risk is also what makes her their greatest asset. They decide to stay on Ruidus to gain more information -- and they learn that the Emperium is the faction of the Reilorans who are aligned with the Ruby Vanguard, so there's another faction of Reilorans who are not a part of that faction, who would be on the Bells Hell's side.

Another storm approaches, so Laudna stuffs Pate into the bag of holding and they all set off toward the city they saw before.

But for the record, they do take the Reiloran juggernaut they took (turned into a possum, put into the bag of holding, and then released and killed) and tear it into pieces.

Ashton, in a very Caduceus moment, also takes the seed from the All Mind's Burn and considers placing it here. Imogen and Ashton concede that they should take the seed and plant it closer to the core of Ruidus; they put it away, and loot the Reiloran instead.

Now that the reiloran is gone -- though FCG specifies that they keep the "limbs and head" -- Pate goes in the bag of holding. They all revert to gaseous forms, and they continue for hours until night begins to set. They find another mountain range in which to rest, but they notice that all the mountain ranges here seem to resemble the spines of ancient creatures. They see herds of beasts, then the flickering lights of a village -- a ranch, with abodes and ranches built into the side of this mountain. It's a unique parallel to Imogen's upbringing, to see similar arrangements of livestock and tenders below them on the fucking moon.

They fly closer, and gather that this is a tiny town -- no more than a thousand people. Everything here is simple -- smoothed rock or dried hutch, a popcorn vibe between the houses and livestock pens. Around 20% of the population is reilorian; the majority of the rest are a shorter, squatter folk, swathed in heavy robes, that the Bells Hells have never seen before, almost like statues moving though air.

There is no Vanguard armor here, but more Emperium -- and they're the minority. They're acting like a religious militant presence, similarly to what Team Issylra encountered in Othanzia.

Still, they come to a town, and attempt to fit in. It's almost like whoever's looking at it substitutes their own familiar with what they're seeing as unfamiliar.

As they decide to search for an inn, it gets darker; the interior of the abodes they're near take on a bluish tint. There is no air of violence here, but people are on watch; from what Chetney can see, there are no open mines or quarries here, but there are clusters of villages without farmland --the only cultivated plantlife he can see is this reddish flora, from which the bison eat, grows.

It's a storage room, just shelves of supplies, training weapons, harnesses. but they all reconvene in the shed as a reiloran sheds light on the chamber where all of them are -- "no, no, wait--" Imogen's persuasion check succeeds. "Oh! Woah. Who are you?" They speak in common, and that's where we end.

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