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#horse-flap
purrsongs · 5 months
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do yall walk on your tiptoes like cats or step like horses or flap your arms like birds/dragons or are you normal
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fellow-traveller · 1 year
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My part of the trade with @mysteriousdragon2 ♡
Our beloved Hol Horse meeting our beloved OVA Hol Horse! :D
No worries; they're not duelling. Just showing off their Emperors. But...knowing these cowboys, they might try for a duel later.
Drawing this made me realise how different they are in terms of body and facial structure. OVA Hol definitely seemed older and more matured, while the newer Hol has more of the cocky cowboy vibe. Also, gosh, OVA Hol definitely reawakened my love for overly muscular men ♡♡
I hope OVA Hol looks decent. I never thought of drawing him before this trade...
(also pardon the background...i tried...)
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thehackneypony · 1 year
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i survived chalk's first show with a thankfully average score despite it being a total mess
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swaggymojis · 2 years
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Hi there! I was wondering if you could maybe do a pegasus stimming emote? Like a wing flap or hoof stomp? Thank you in advance if you do! (Also if the pegasus could have a white coat + mane/tail, it would be greatly appreciated!) Thank you again, have a nice day!
I tried my best haha
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Pegasus stim for when uhhh neigh
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quill-of-thoth · 1 year
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Went on a sleigh tour of the elk management place today (where they feed the wild elk to lure them in for population health tracking and keeping them safe from ranchers purposes) and out in the middle of the valley full of elk there’s just a single random sheep.  “He’s feral we think,” says the tour guide “Dunno how he lives up here but the rangers think he heads up to the snow line every summer to stay cool enough.”
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earlsjustwannahavefun · 5 months
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There was frost on the ground this morning when I got up to do animal chores. My fiance let me know it was supposed to be in the 70s thr rest of the week but I'm just thinking about all that needs to be done to be ready for winter...
#house stuff is mostly on him but its ordering propane and getting the woodstove in order#him and his dad finished the tile tonight and had a friend over to put it where it belongs#also tbh the floor tile needs to be done before we start bringing wood in#for the chickens i want to clean out the coop one more time before commiting to deep litter for the winter#ill need to cover windows i think i might try something different this year for that#i think i may do a straw or horse pellet layer in the run idk#and of course switch out their water#and maybe figure out some covered spot for food/put a tarp on the greenhouse?#the pigs big pen still isnt done but id love them to get out there already bc its supposed to be a warmer winter so im assuming mud mess#the dogs yard they are in is already a mud pit up at the front from them#i want to put some like flap on their shelter to keep it warmer in there for them#and i want to switch them to nipple waterers and find some heating element for that#im worried about frostbite if they are drinking out of an open source bc every one of them sticks their whole face in to drink#the pigs were freakisly unbothered by the frost like i felt so bad for them then i go out and tbey are all just chillin in it#they are supposed to do very well in winter but i was still worried#i need to figure out how to offer them hay like what sort of feeding device to put it in#also need to get my car situation for winter squared away...#since the jimmy now has neither 4x4 or a locking back axle its absolutely trash to drive in the winter#being rear wheel w all 4 spinning independently#my fiance bought me a toyota rav4 for a winter beater... its at least front wheel drive. prev owner said he only got stuck 1 time on ice#and i think its like a 94 or 95 and hes had it most that time so its seen some stuff im sure#but i need to insure and title it and it needs new tires. also perhaps some spray paint bc its like 3 different colors 🤪#i already drive what is unquestionably the crappiest car at work compared to my coworkers and i KNOW im judged#and the jimmy is just rusty at least its all 1 color#i know the rav will have them being like wtf dude#everyone elses cars are like new and have no rust and like have bumpers or whatever#i have never made a car payment in my life tho all the cars we have we bought outright#most have been $500 but hey. the rav he got me was $300 lmfao
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cryptid-crusader · 9 months
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I try so hard to pump myself up to do SOMETHING after work that I ENJOY and each time my body is like hmmmmm best I can give you is lie on the floor, be too sleepy to do anything, and weird body pain. 🤷‍♀️
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lionblaze03-2 · 2 years
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Saw a few people in YouTube comments complaining that Glendale’s anxiety and breathing in a bag was extremely underutilized and thus makes the song more out of place and no?? She’s consistently anxious and panicky through the entire series. Panics when horse arrives, using a bag. Panics over the fact she destroyed a home. Panics when wammawink is acting weird in the forest and mentions panic attacks by name. Panics when she hears about the beartaur. Panics when her friends are fighting in that same episode. Panics in jail when asked to go before a judge. I can’t remember what episode it’s in but it’s in s1 and she offers a bag to another herd member. This is just off the top of my head. So I would say yeah she’s fairly consistently anxious. The bag isn’t used as much but it is used at least twice, and by that point rule of threes says it’ll come back so hey. Also she doesn’t just steal when she’s anxious sometimes she does this little pulling on her ears thing and it’s more than once and it kills me hi I love you Glendale I want to hug your long spindly neck very gently
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lellu · 2 years
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fucking. the worst thing about getting into homestuck is that it has revived and brought to the front my quiet but persistent interest in horses but it also made me really insecure about that interest. help
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pyraffin-drgo · 1 year
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Now that I'm feeling physically better and can finally make my weird little noises again like I used to...
I've been learning to unmask when I'm alone and my weird ass has been making pigeon chirping noises whenever I have blorbo thoughts. Like that noise pigeons make when they take off flying. I do that
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andypantsx3 · 10 months
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thinking about dragon shouto.
as a child you come across what you think is a weird fat lizard the size of a cat, playing in the fields just outside of your village. it's got a mesmerizing pattern of ruby red scales overlapping snowy white ones, and two little nubby horns at either side of its head.
it spends the afternoon napping on a sun-warmed rock nearby, blinking at you with strange, mismatched eyes whenever you come over to stare at it. you feed it some of the berries you'd gathered for your own snack, and it seems to like them, nosing around in your hand for more after it's finished them. when you leave, it curls its tail around itself and watches you go with a solemn stare.
you see it several more times out in the fields after that, always bringing it little treats—the crust of your morning bread, some cheese, a rainbow of berries from the bushes at the edge of the forest. it's patient when you prod it curiously, running your fingers over the strange little flaps on its back that look almost like they could unfold into wings. it seems to like when you do that, eyes falling closed, and you swear you hear it snuffle softly.
it skitters home with you then, and your family shits themselves when they realize you've dragged home a dragon. it's a toddler same as you, and a male as far as they can tell. but it's too late to get rid of him—dragons are notoriously possessive creatures, and any attempt made to separate you two is met with a flash of tiny fangs, a jet of fire, and a case of lizard stink eye so mean it's like he's trying to scald the flesh off of people with his stare alone.
and after that, you're his and he's yours.
you name him shouto—a person's name—because he seems so much like his own person, all his wants and needs communicated clearly. he goes with you everywhere until he becomes too large to fit into buildings, first reaching the size of a horse, then your family's thatched hut. by the time you reach your majority, he's the size of the smithy in the village center.
and then, not a few months after your own birthday, he comes into his majority, and with it, his full powers.
and that's how you find yourself confronted with over six feet of very naked, very handsome man—with split red-and-white hair, and two mismatched eyes, and an incredibly familiar possessiveness over you...
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ectologia · 3 months
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♱ ˖ ࣪࿐ 𝒯𝐻𝐼𝒩𝒦𝐼𝒩𝒢 𝒜𝐵𝒪𝒰𝒯 . . .
𝒸𝑜𝓃𝓉𝑒𝓃𝓉 ؛ asphyxiation ノ breeding ノ doggy style ノ riding ノ full nelson ノ dick piercings ノ profanity
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𝓉𝒽𝒾𝓃𝓀𝒾𝓃𝑔 𝒶𝒷𝑜𝓊𝓉 . . .
Dabi’s favourite positions.
He enjoys a classic doggy. He loves how his scolding hot hands, ribbed and marred from years of misuse, mould into the pudgy flesh cushioning your hips and tummy. Squeezing the life out of you with clawed crooked fingers stabbing into your stomach while he stuffs his lengthy shaft all the way up to the stiff peak of your cervix, kissing the tiny opening with the dangerously armed tip of his pierced cock, threatening to splurge the entrance of your womb with wet, sticky seed. It makes him feel like a dog, a ferocious hound, a wild beast. Surviving to live and living to survive. Rutting with warm pants and throaty howls, grunting into the soft hairs that line your nape as he hunches over the extension of your spine, anticipating the moment he finally gets to fill your bitch pussy up with his puppies.
On the other hand, he’s also an avid enjoyer of having you hump him. He’ll pick you up by your shoulders, interlocking each of his lithe fingers around your limbs as he poises you atop his painfully erect dick, sitting your ass down on his hips as they bump up into your soft squishy bits, commanding you to ride him like his own little cowgirl. You complain that you’re tired after the first minute or so, it’s a constant but he just doesn’t seem to care. He’ll swat the meat of your plump butt with a flick of his wrist, telling you to “giddyup” and ride him properly, hissing through grit teeth to “bounce up and down on his fat-ass horse cock.” With splayed palms, his hands rest limply at your haunches, stroking the prickled fuzz of hair growing along your calves and below your thighs as you claw and clutch at the layer of fat chubbing his otherwise lean abs, nails scrunching and sprouting along the fleshy ripples every time he bucks up into you with a sly grin. Sneering at your startled yelps and pitiful whimpers.
But what really gets Dabi going, what really tickles his fancy. Is when you let him fold you like a deck chair. His drug of choice would have to be a nice, stuffy full nelson. One where you let him crumple you up like a tin can in his fist, one where he has your legs sticking out every which way, twitching and shivering and shuddering like a spider beneath his boot. He thinks you look so sweet like that, when he has your arms smushed between your tits, and your thighs locked on his elbows, no where to run and definitely no where to hide. He’ll do you in front of the mirror, all so he can see that cute violet hue overcome your features whence he’s blocked your air ways for a second or five too many. Biceps shaking, evidence of his lassitude after purposely trying to choke you out with his manhood fucked half-way inside that puffy little cunny he loves to hurt so much. He’ll chew his lip as you gasp and splutter, barely attempting to stifle the ashen chuckle that threatens to erupt as flecks of spittle fly onto his hairy thighs. Cooing at you, he’ll rub lines into your buzzing clit, nuzzling and huffing into your ear while he taps and faps away at the hard lovebud, refusing to move when you panic, flailing and screeching as the stimulation becomes too overbearing. Only then will he relent, recollecting your flapping arms and legs to spear you from the bottom, lowering you up and down his smouldering hot length, spiked with hooks and other metal weaponry a-geared to tear your delicate pussy open from the inside out.
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Form of Affection
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22/12: Swimming & Face Fucking - Aemond Targaryen Word Count: 1.9k~ | Warnings: face fucking (obvi), dark!ish Aemond, kinslaying (mood), dirty talk, praise, degradation, threatening/obsessive behaviour A/N: This takes place in the Form of Gratitude universe!
12 Days of Smuff Masterlist
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He'd given up hunting, but it still didn't stop him from visiting her.
She no longer raised her bow and arrow when she heard footsteps on her cobbled path. Similarly, Aemond had abandoned transport by way of the horse, instead alerting her to his arrival by the dense flapping of Vhagar’s wings.
Now, when she hears it, she waits outside her front door, arms crossed, smirking that he'd come to see her so soon after their last little tryst.
When he wasn’t buried between her thighs, sometimes Aemond craved her company in other ways. By way of hunting with her (hunting her sometimes), exploring the Kingswood until the sun touched the hills and more often, shedding their clothes and going for a swim in the nearby freshwater lake, made warm by the pleasant weather.
Usually, they swim, cleanse, kiss, and he wraps his strong arm around her and sheathes himself inside her, having his fill and only stopping once he was sated. 
She was good to him. Submitted to his desires when he wanted. Comforted him when he needed. And did not question.
Today was different. 
Today there was a weight on his shoulders like no other.
He’d woken a different person. A kinslayer.
Aemond sighs as he feels her breasts at his back, her slender arms wrapping around him to drift her soft fingertips across his scarred chest. But he does not lift his gaze. The moon shone down on them, reflected off the sapphire of his missing eye now that his eyepatch was discarded with his clothes.
“You are more melancholic than usual”, she muses, her nose gliding up the skin of his neck.
He scoffed, “And I am usually melancholic? Such emotions are beneath that of a Prince”.
He felt her body tense at his back, and he didn't need to look to know he'd offended her, but did not possess the courage to apologise.
“You are cruel when you're like this. It is how I know”, she adds with a soft sigh, making him feel worse, “there is something you are not telling me”.
Even the memory haunts him. He can still hear it, the way Vhagar’s jaw ripped through skin and bone like a knife through paper. 
Nevermind having to admit out loud, the horrific act he'd committed. The one that had his mother flinching from his sights.
“I am a kinslayer”, he states simply, “My nephew, Luke.”
She is quiet. 
And the silence spreads like a virus.
He expects her to drift away from him, taking her warmth with her, too shocked to really say anything, and leave, never to be seen again. Never to know her sweet loving embrace.
But she stays, and if anything, tightens her hold around him, her warm breath on his jaw, batting against the water droplet that sinks across his skin.
“And how do you feel?”
He's perplexed at just how calm she is. Whether it's a front or not, she's awfully good at it.
“I feel…unclean”, he answers, voice wavering, “like any person who looks upon me sees nothing but a mere monster”.
“I do not see a monster”.
“That does not matter”.
Again, she knows better than to not take it to heart. She can't disagree, her good opinion of him does not matter.
“He is the one who took your eye”, she muses, turning her face into the crook of his neck, the sloshing of water following her movements, “is he not?”
Aemond's tongue suddenly feels heavy, “Yes.”
“While your other family simply watched, and did nothing to assist?”
He swallows, a mild annoyance simmering, “Yes.”
He heard her breath before she spoke, the nerves making her shaky, “forgive me. I do not see why you should feel remorseful.”
“Because it has started a war.”
“A war that, forgive me, would have occurred regardless. I understand you may feel guilt. In my view it is no use looking back on the past. You can only protect your family now.”
Aemond could only scoff incredulously, “With Aegon as king I have a better chance of my eye growing back.”
“Well then why not you?” she asks, her volume lowering.
He barely turns his head to her, “what?”
The coldness of the early evening nips at his shoulders as she pulls away, the water around her trickling as she moves dreamily to look at him fully. Aemond feels himself half blink as he watches her expression, and the feeling of her fingers against his cheek.
Her beautiful full lips are parted, eyes studying the body she can see that is not submerged.
Her gaze flits back up to him, as her fingers disappear beneath the water, one soft digit trailing down his chest.
“It is you who should be king”
Silence.
The weight of what she'd said, what she'd suggested.
It was treason, and both knew it.
Aemond swallowed, chest feeling tight as a bowstring.
She is not at all perturbed by what she's said, not thinking about the consequences of them. Instead she ponders on.
“I am a commoner, my Prince. I know what he does. Where his interests lie”, she utters, an urgency to her tone. Aemond's stomach muscles tense as her hand passes over it, stepping past the fine hairs at his navel.
“It is you who was born to rule Westeros…”, she whispers, her front pressed near to his, breasts and nipples perk from the chill.
He stares idly at the droplet making its way between her breasts as her hand wraps around his cock, seeing her smirk at the realisation that her words have made him impossibly hard.
“...and you will”.
His jaw tightens, the muscle twitching with barely-contained emotion that was difficult to pin down.
Anger. Lust. Irritation. Desire.
They were all batting around in his head, trying to find where to fit.
He grabs her face, tugging her towards him so harshly she let out a little squeak, her grip on him never faltering, “Treasonous little cunt, aren't you?”
He doesn't know what he expected. For her to be scared perhaps.
But maybe there was a darkness in her that was discovered in him just days before. Lurking. Because she smirked. Giving his length a few calculated pumps.
“I told you before, where my loyalties lie.”
Her voice was like honey. Catching him in its trap. And her movements only intensified it.
“And what if I wed Floris Baratheon? Hm? Where will your loyalties lie then?”
She laughs breathily, “Then you wed Floris Baratheon. But, on your wedding night, I dare say, it is me you will be thinking of as you bury yourself inside that plain-faced idiot, searching for fulfillment you will never have. Not like you do with me.”
“You sound so sure”, he muses threateningly.
“Prove me wrong then.”
He sighs and tips his head back, feeling achingly hard. Her movements are too slow to grant him any kind of meaningful pleasure, but the touch all the same ignites a flame within.
“I can think of a better use for your cunt mouth”
The hand moves from her face to her hair, and he revels in the whine she lets out when he drags her from the depths to the shallow bank of the edge of the great lake. In the moonlight, shrouded in blue, their bodies look ethereal with the light bouncing off their damp skin.
He'd fucking hate that smug little smile on her face as he drags her to her knees in front of him, if he didn't fucking love it so much.
“Open.”
She bit her lip, holding back her smile at how wound tight she'd managed to make him and only wished to take it further by outright denying him, cock hard and weeping before her.
A choked moan left her as warmth bloomed on her cheek hard, Aemond's hand followed and grabbed her jaw meanly, pulling her face up to meet his gaze. His fingers curled into the flesh of her face, parting her lips, all while his other hand held his length by the base littered with silver curls, and pressed the tip to her lips.
Her eyes glimmered with excitement, feeling a throb between her thighs as he slid into her mouth slowly, his cock hot and heavy on her tongue. There was a dull ache on her cheek where he'd struck her, but it was exciting all the same.
Aemond moaned loudly when he felt her gag on him, her throat trying to close around his length and tears collecting around the rim of her beautiful eyes.
“That's it…”, he cooed quietly, pressing all the way into her warm, wet mouth until his hips were pressed to her.
“-you think I should be king, hm? - a king needs his cock warmed -”
He could tell she was trying to say something around his length but couldn't, and he wanted to laugh at her attempt as he thrusted so deeply into her mouth, her throat moved along with it, prodding the back of her throat mercilessly.
The little slut was writhing there, taking his cock into her mouth like a cunt would, pressing her thighs together to alleviate how badly she wanted to be fucked.
“- what's that? - I can't hear you -”, he smirked at her. Her eyes now shut with streams of moisture forming lines down her face.
“-that’s it-” he whispers softly, “-much better with my cock in your mouth-”
Once he begins fucking in earnest, he feels her warm hands on his thighs for balance. His fingers tug at her moist hair for leverage, tugging her back on his length.
His stomach muscles tighten as her cheeks hollow, increasing the friction on him. Every nerve feels alight the more he bottoms out inside her mouth.
“-fuck- it's such a waste, I've been dreaming of that perfect cunt all day -” he breathes heavily, “-be a good girl and take it-”
She makes a sound skin to a whine when she tastes his seed, shooting hot ropes onto her tongue and back of her throat, coating her mouth with it as he continues his ceaseless pace, prolonging his pleasure.
Aemond moans loudly, the sound lost in the dense forest, granting himself a few more shallow thrusts before he stills, emptying himself on her tongue and watching as a line of spend dribbles down the side of her mouth and onto her breasts.
He sighs in contentment. She is being good and hasn't moved an inch.
With a wet smack, he pulls his softening cock from her mouth, smirking at the way he coats her lips as they glisten in the moonlight.
She opens her bleary eyes finally to him, and doesn't even need to be told. She swallows, a sigh following after to prove she has swallowed all of it.
He hums. A thumb reaching for her chin to push the seed that had leaked out back into her mouth. She sucks on the digit hungrily, and he nearly moans out at the feeling of her wet tongue.
He pulls it out and cups her face lovingly, her eyelashes fluttering as she leans into his touch.
“Come back to the Keep with me”, he demands simply, like it is the easiest thing in the world.
“What?” 
“If I'm going to have to wed, bed and breed Floris fucking Baratheon, I'll need you close to me.”
With the heady taste of him on her tongue still, she swallows and considers for a moment. 
“I will not allow the sweetest cunt in the realm to sleep on the outskirts of the fucking Kingswood. You will be mine.”
His words are sweet. 
It would promise safety from vagabonds, rapists and hunters, for certain. And she had to admit, she did miss him whenever he departed on Vhagar, summoned back to the Keep.
So, she smiles at him, leaning forward to press her temple against his body.
“Yes, my King.”
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willowser · 1 year
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i've never really put much thought into actual dragon dragon-king bakugou, but — what if —
you meet him for the first time in king todoroki's arena — on what you assume to be the last day of your life. over something menial like stealing a porkbun or something, and now his grace has decided that a trial-by-combat is a fitting punishment for you crimes.
only your opponent is a massive, hulking, fire-red dragon.
and you're not the only one thrown in there; a few other vagrants and miscreants, too, and they — stupidly — rush off to meet their own deaths as they try to strike him down with the blunt swords and dented shields you'd been thrown by the guards before they sealed you to your fate.
the dragon is chained up, of course, like a prized possession for the king. a large collar with inward curving spikes around his neck, which have worn scars into his scales, as well as some metal contraption around his maw to keep it shut. it doesn't hinder him useless, though, and when he tries to fly up and away from the amphitheater, the force of his wings sends you all rolling backward.
despite the fact that he's maiming people with the spines on his tail and bashing them into mush with the weight of his head — you can't help but to feel bad for him, trapped in an arena, put on display for people to taunt and laugh at. the chains look heavy, the muzzle tight; you wonder if his wings could even carry him anymore.
so you decide that the only way for you to live through this, if at all, is if you can manage to get this big boy off the ground.
while the other competitors fight the dragon for their lives, you instead rush for the chains that are nailed into the walls of the arena and smash at them with the rounded end of a shield. every time he jerks his head this way and that, or rears back on his legs, wings flapping wildly, the wall he's nailed to becomes looser and looser, starts to crumble and fall away.
and just as he turns to you — his last foe — it breaks free, and you swear, you swear, those big, red eyes of his narrow, brow furrowing, before he's jerking the chain twice. tugging it noisly, almost to get your attention.
you grab onto it just before he takes to the sky.
the rush of air is so cold and stinging that your eyes water, and you hold onto the lifeline as you're carried up and away from the kingdom, over the entirety of it, far enough that he can land safely without getting charged by the guards.
when you both hit ground, you think you're going to puke, especially as he stands tall and stretches his wings like he hasn't been able to for years — but instead of smashing you, too, to a clump in the grass, he only leans his head down to you, nudges you hard enough that you topple over.
you're still clinging to the shield and you use the edge on the nails of his muzzle, too, twisting them loose so that the iron falls away and he can stretch his jaw. show off his long, very sharp teeth that could easily tear you to bits.
and yet he doesn't. doesn't even try.
it'll be harder to get the collar off his neck, but he watches you with his slit eyes, brow arched menacingly, and nudges you to the long length of his neck. huffs until you're grabbing the spines and hauling yourself up onto him, like some kind of impossibly large horse.
and you continue on like that, for a bit; he finds a field of wild bulls and eats nearly all of them, maiming one for you before setting it aflame; you try to gather little shiny things for him, because you've heard dragons like treasure and you want to keep him, but he doesn't seem too interested; you have no family to return to, having grown up alone on the king's streets, and he becomes all you have.
you begin to feel like some chosen one from the fairytales you've heard spoken by firelight. the dragon bakugou stays with you, and the only reason you can fathom is that, maybe, he feels indebted to you — but you've saved one another, and that's what matters.
the night everything changes is when you're deep in the forest, camped up near the edge of a clear-water spring. the dragon bakugou grows lazy, curled around the perimeter of the water with his long neck and — he's a male dragon, you know, but you've got to wash yourself eventually.
you do feel a bit odd, undressing yourself as he watches, but you assume it's only out of plain and simple curiosity that he does; you assume that's why he does anything, for you, like allowing you to lay near his head when you sleep or huffing in your face until you laugh when you try to wrap your arms around his nose.
you try to pay him — an animal, a creature of fantasy — no mind as you dive below the surface, enjoying the refreshing rush of water over your skin. when you reach the bottom, tangle your hands in the gentle weeds, you feel a pang of sadness, that he might never experience such a feeling.
but when you return to the surface — he's gone.
in place at the water's edge is the collar you've never been able to loosen. rusted and creaking, looking much larger off his neck and alone in the grass, and your stomach lurches with a thousand horrible possibilities of what could have happened until —
"oi."
until you turn around and there is a massive, hulking man, naked as the day he came, with eyes the color of the scales that are dotted along his skin in stray patches. crowned in a mess of ashen hair, scars along his neck and face and arms—one of which is inked in some symbol you may have seen once. on those travellers, from the southern clans.
he, the man bakugou, you realize, has no concept of personal space — or the fact that he's totally naked and so are you — and he wastes no time in crowding into you. even rushing, a little, when you squeal and try to clamber back up the bank for your clothes.
like a stubborn boy, he pushes you into the dirt and even grins, evil and mischievous, with human teeth. you have no idea what to expect of him; men have never been too kind to you, afterall, someone without a home or family and easy to be rid of.
but he, the man bakugou, only nudges his face into yours, huffs against your cheek when you squirm, and you think, you think, you can hear some kind of quiet rumbling purr coming from the deep center of his chest.
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ameliathornromance · 2 months
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Rain, Rain, Rain - Orc Romantic Short Story
There was a growl in the back of your throat as you attempted to clear it. God’s be damned, you had fallen ill. It was nothing serious, a cold from being exposed to the elements. All thanks to your Orc partner. He was the one who had insisted on you both travelling through the storm, so that the two of you could reach the encampment shared by his tribe.
The two of you had gone out on a walk that day, since the weather promised a warm and sunny day. As you listened to your partner’s stories of Orc history, thunder grumbled above you and by the time afternoon became evening, the Heavens had opened. “You’ll be fine.” He’d called to you over the thunder. “You’re one of us now, you won’t fall ill in my care.”
But alas, you had a fever by the time you arrived back. “Won’t fall ill my arse.” You snuggled into your animal skin covers, deeper and further away from your tent entrance, left open to give you fresh air.
Candle light flickered gently next to you, giving you enough light to see your surroundings. The storm had passed the night before, but left you bed ridden and shivering.
It was only now that you could fully recognise what was going on around you: It was night, judging from the darkened sky outside, the camp seemed to bustle with it’s usual fervour. You could hear the familiar grunts and growls of the harsh Orc mother tongue.
A part of you wondered where your boyfriend had gotten to. You hadn’t seen him since your fever had broken and the tribes healer had given him a well deserved tongue lashing. You had only been able to pick up bits and pieces of their conversation, “you know humans are not like us!” Lashed the old Orc at your boyfriend. Something about ‘you foolish oaf’ and ‘not knowing enough about human bodies’ and, ‘not doing enough to take care of something as fragile as a human being.’
You sniffled, pouted. You hadn’t seen the tribe healer much either. He only came by to bring you water and some stale bread. “Good for the stomach when you are unwell.” He said as he handed you the food. “The big fool has lumbered off somewhere. He’ll be back.” He assured you at your worried expression.
You could not fault your partners eagerness to return to camp; There are worse things than a storm, outside the camp. Due to poor visibility and no way of hearing approaching horses thanks to the thunder and ever pelting rain. Human beings are vicious and sometimes more monstrous than Orcs can be. If they had caught the two of you together, they would have done God knows what to the both of you. Being ill and confined to bed was better than being hung, drawn and quartered by Orc Hunters or a mob of angry villagers. Even in your cloudy state, you knew that this, was definitely not the worst outcome (even if it did sting to admit it.)
The tent flaps parted and revealed your boyfriend. He was covered head to toe in mud and dirt, a brown potato sack thrown over his shoulder, book clutched in his other free hand that hung down by his side. He huffed and panted as he laid eyes on you. “Oh.” He said, surprised. “You’re awake.”
You furrowed your eyebrows at him as he set down the sack and thumped the book on the table in the corner of the room, “so I did all that for nothing.”
“Huh?” You asked, nasally.
“I went out to go and get some ‘erbs and that,” your Orc had his back to you as he unloaded the sack, different bundles of roots, branches and nettles of plants on the table, “so you could get better quicker… but I guess I won’t be needin’ ‘em now, will I?” He grumbled.
Your heart twinged at his words. Forcing yourself up, you gazed up at his dirty form. “Thank you for trying.” You sniffled.
He rushed over to you as you tried to sit up further, “no, don’t say that. I should be apologisin’. Shouldn’t ‘ave dragged you through that storm.”
You shook your head. “’ts better than the alternatives.” You sniffled again, “here, if you hand me the book, we could make something to help.”
“No, I’ll get the old geezer to do it,” your Orc partners weight caused the bed to dip below his weight as he sat next to you. “You should rest.” He cupped your head with his hand. His whole palm was as big as your head. His eyes fell to the ground in front of him, “I made the mess, so I should fix it.”
You pursed your lips. “After you’ve washed,” you started, “do you want to come and get into bed with me and you can finish that story you started yesterday?”
Your Orc boyfriend was silent for a moment, before a smile crept onto his lips. “Yeah, sounds like a plan.” Packing up the supplies he bought, picking up the book. He cast a short look back at you, “I’ll give these to the ol’ geezer and bring back somethin’ that’ll make you feel better. Then I’ll finish the story I started yesterday, yeah?” And with one last, toothy grin, he left.
You smiled to yourself. He probably spent the whole day looking for that book and those herbs, and it looks like it wasn’t easy for him to do, judging from the state of him. You shuddered to think where he could have gotten that book from and hoped it wasn’t from the Healer’s tent – there would be more trouble if he had done that.
You snuggled up into the animal skins again, a warm fuzziness taking over you. How lucky you are to have such a lovely Orc partner. Before you knew it, he’d come back, a cup of strange liquid in hand, clean and in a fresh set of clothes and settled himself beside you to finish his story.
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Don’t Kill Wolves - Just Keep Them Away
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You’re operating a farm or ranch. What do you do when wolves are killing your livestock or pet dogs? Trap them and shoot them, right? That’s what farmers and ranchers — and government agencies — have been doing for decades.
Now there are new, nonlethal alternatives. Even better, these solutions are more permanent than lethal methods. Kill a wolf, and there’s another wolf behind him, eager to attack. Keep a wolf away, and the rest of his pack will stay away too. They may even help keep other packs away.
“We don’t believe that hunting wolves on a broad scale necessarily will help mitigate livestock depredation,” says Brian Roell, wildlife biologist and wolf specialist with the Michigan Department of Natural Resources.
“It’s not the wolf population that’s the reason for an increase in livestock depredation,” Roell says. “It is the pack of wolves at a much smaller scale. So, if you have a hunt and you don’t affect the wolves that are the ones causing the problem, you won’t change the depredation.”
The goals of Michigan’s wolf plan include minimizing conflicts with livestock and pets and looking after the state’s wolves in ways that are “science-based and socially responsible,” he adds.
A Michigan project
Brett Huntzinger is applying more effective, nonlethal techniques to prevent wolf depredation in Michigan’s Upper Peninsula. And it’s working. Prior to Huntzinger’s project, most of the farms had wolf depredation issues. In FY2022, there were no confirmed depredations due to large predators.
Huntzinger is a federal Wildlife Service employee who earned a master’s degree doing wolf research with Professor Emeritus Rolf Peterson at Michigan Technological University. During 2022, he worked with 10 farmers who are raising approximately 900 livestock. He helped them install fencing, fladry — which is temporary fencing with flapping flags attached–lights, sound devices, and multi-strand electric fencing around carcass burial sites and in predator travel routes near livestock.
When he installs radios to use sound to keep wolves away, he tells his kids: “I’m setting up all-night cow disco parties.”
Every farm he has worked with presents unique challenges. “I tell my kids that sometimes it’s like the crime/murder investigation shows on TV, and we are the detectives, Huntzinger says. “You never know what you will find.”
Huntzinger uses trail cameras to monitor predators’ travel routes. “I often find there are more predators around than people think,” he says.  
Rolf Peterson, his former teacher and ongoing advisor, has high praise for Huntzinger. “Brett is extremely good at this, and he’s devoted to solving problems that wolves might pose,” says Peterson.  “He is the type of person who can easily relate to farmers and landowners, as he lives on a farm himself and has several horses.  He also has very extensive field experience from his MS thesis work at Michigan Tech, when he tracked wolves for hundreds of miles on skis to find out what they were killing in winter.”
According to Huntzinger, nonlethal wolf depredation prevention techniques are not only effective in the short run. They can have an unexpected long term benefit: turning predators themselves into livestock guards. “If you can teach a resident wolf pack to not attack livestock, they will defend that area against other wolves and predators,” Huntzinger says. “In a way, the resident packs act like guard animals for the farms inside their territory. The trick is to use the nonlethal methods to keep the individuals in the wolf pack from starting to attack livestock.” 
In 2022 Congress increased the Wildlife Service’s funding for depredation prevention to $2.5 million, up from $1.38 million in FY2020 and 2021. Michigan’s funding doubled from $60,000 in FY2021 to $120,600 in FY2022. With this additional funding, Wildlife Services in Michigan was able to stock many types of nonlethal equipment available for loan, including 1,800 yards of electrified fladry, fencing supplies, posts and solar fence chargers. The agency can also provide 100 solar-charged flashing LED lights and other types of motion- activated flood lights and alarms, as well as three solar-powered radios with deep cell batteries for use as an audio predator deterrent.
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