#and all everyone goes for are friesians...

[curiosity-killed]

one of my long-term questions for fantasy worldbuilding is why so many fantasy worlds seem to have inexplicably large friesian populations

[shalomniscient]

Could I be 🏇 anon? Since I do plan on requesting in the future if that is OK by you? Anyway, I actually agree with you that Zoya wouldn't really be an equestrian. As cool as Zoya riding a horse would be, I don't think horseback riding is something that Zoya would enjoy personally.

Before I send in my request through your inbox, I did wish to ask a few questions. I do want to request PTN Equestrian AU Headcanons centered around Cinnabar, like you wrote for Shalom & Rahu. These HCs would be unrelated to the Cinnabar X Reader that you wrote back then. What horse breed would Cinnabar ride and what equestrian discipline/sport would she do? As much as I love Cinnabar riding a Friesian and performing dressage, I do want to read your own personal thoughts/ideas about which horse breed she would ride & what equestrian sport/discipline she would do. I love reading your equestrian tangents and your knowledge about various elements about it such as horse breeds and dressage. My apologies for the long ask. Thank You Sev!

- 🏇 Anon

HI 🏇 ANON !! i’m on my phone so this isn’t formatted like my other equestrian au posts sorry shdhdkdkdjd but i will go back and reformat soon !!

that being said, i think there’s only a few minor changes i would make to what i already wrote in my longer cinnabar fic. instead of just doing dressage, i think she’ll do eventing, which is a combo of dressage, showjumping and cross country.

cinnabar isn’t someone to do things halfway, if she does something she goes all out. so i think she’d branch out from dressage too. i think of the three, she’d enjoy cross-country most. it’s fast-paced, and even though it’s one of the most physically challenging, there’s really nothing like feeling the wind in your hair as you ride across the course. as for showjumping and dressage, she enjoys the challenge for it too, but sometimes the rules of it all can be stifling. she does manage to abide by them, but they’re a lot less lenient with eventing.

as for her horse, i think cinnabar has a good ol’ fashioned thoroughbred. i will admit that i can’t come up with a name for her horse… i leave this to you 🏇 anon 🫡🫡🫡 i like to think serpent eye in this au is a stable, and cinnabar kinda just grew up around houses. her horse could be the foal of her father’s horse, and she could have grown up alongside it !! there’s something so special about working with a horse since it’s a foal, truly.

cinnabar and her horse are well known in the eventing scene, i feel. they might not always win, but everyone can count on them to perform their utmost best every time, especially on the cross-country course. cinnabar and her horse are very in tune with each other—she only needs to give the slightest direction for her horse to know what to do.

cinnabar and her horse have a very childhood friends kind of relationship. they both grew up together, after all, so cinnabar will more often than not spend more time with her horse than with other people. they relax together out in the fields under a tree maybe, with cinnabar leaning back against her horse’s side, while her horse is comfortable enough with her to completely lay on the ground. it’s palpable, beautiful bond, and if anything happened to the other, both would be inconsolable.

cinnabar isn’t a prodigal rider. she’s worked hard to have the level of skill that she has, and those in serpent eye respect her greatly for it. she has somewhat of an expectation to meet, shoes to fill, but everyone who knows her believes she will not only fit them, but even outgrow them.

[riddles-n-games]

🤣🤣🤣🤣🤣

Well, one of them has to be. Every family has at least one, it’s basically obligatory. I mean, I adore horses, hence this headcanon. His brothers grew up with that fact and got used to it; either that or lose their minds.

Sometimes, Xander gets in a slump with building his contraptions and goes out riding with his oldest brother to let loose; Jameson too, if he’s in a good enough mood. Grayson never does because his pride won’t let him, although, there are many times when a little voice in the back of his mind would whisper for him to go and join them but he holds back anyway, but, maybe, just maybe, one day in the future he will. When he musters up enough courage, that is. What he does instead is take his camera with him to a window that’s in one of the passages, hidden well enough that they don’t see him if they looked up, and takes pictures of his brothers that he puts in a secret album of his favorite memories. This also happens be among the rare moments he actually smiles and if he catches himself doing so, well, he knows everyone is none the wiser but he really does just love capturing his brothers' happy faces because their happiness means so much to him.

Meanwhile, poor Libby’s just gonna get dragged along for the ride. Bet you he’ll convince her to come in on a cart down the aisle and then, in true Texan gentleman fashion, he’d help her down but as she’s about to step onto the ground, he adds a twist when he sweeps her up bridal style and spins her in a circle before placing her on the altar.

A little later in their marriage, he literally buys her a gorgeous Friesian mare named Lilian, except, as much as Libby loves her, she's hesitant on riding her. Most of the time when Nash wants her to go out riding with him, they compromise to both ride on Lilian and that he is in charge of the reins. There are times she takes the reins from him if she's feeling comfortable when they do this. However, when Libby's feeling brave enough, they trail ride with two horses but Nash leads and Lilian has a lead rope attached to her which is detached occasionally if Libby wants to give riding at a faster pace a try or if it's a big open field. So, Libby's journey to full fledged horse girl is gonna take a while but her confidence is growing slow and steady and Nash going at her speed helps a lot with that. You know, compromise. It strengthens their relationship and it's a favorite bonding activity for them to build trust in each other. All in all, he's just a very supportive and proud hubby of Libs.

Recently came up with the headcanon that since Nash lives in Texas, and is a little dry hot weather rat since birth, he would love rain because it’s great for the land, but also because he just would. Nash would dance in the rain whenever he could, no matter what. Nash dances in his oddly satisfying lope, swaying his hips and shoulders, but also being a complete dork and leaping and spinning, just enjoying life. He’s so chill and but is such a chaotic ball of joy inside when it rains

———

"Ugh man, it's raining cats and dogs," Jameson muttered, drying his hair with a ratty towel that had appeared from nowhere. No doubt hiding it away from Nan and the other housekeepers, preferring the bleach stains and rough surface that reminded him of childhood, more than the soft, luxurious bath towels everyone else used.

"IT'S WHAT-" Nash bounded down the stairs, hat unmoving, as his boots thumped on the steps-louder than thunder itself.

"Oh no-" Grayson groaned, rubbing the back of his hand over his head.

Nash tore open the great front door, letting out a Texas hoot that Grayson hated more than anything. “IT’S RAINING-”

*enter Xander walking into the kitchen, wearing Chewbacca slippers and chomping on a scone* “Oh, is it? How marvelous. How grand, how-”

A huge smack and thud come from outside, followed by a deep voiced whimper and “OH LANDS, THERE’S SOME BIG PUDDLES OUT HERE”

[moonchildsaurora]

Garden of Words

✤ prince/king!Yunho x tailor!reader ✤ genre: Prince AU // angst, fluff ✤ t/w: sfw, lots of bittersweetness, rated PG ✤ count: 3.5k+ ✤ [ part 2 ] of Lacuna miniseries

a/n - look, when I was writing my plan out for this, my notes only centered around the garden scene. . .and here we are 3000+ words later hahahaaaaaa, this is what happens when the mind goes “what if” and gets invested in the before/after rather than just the now 😔 one day I’ll be able to write shorter, sweeter pieces but today isn’t the day. I’d like to whole-heartedly thank anyone who reads through this entire piece, for your time and hopefully it was worth it. Also I’ve decided to have a little bit of fun with subtly featuring other members in each others’ mini stories, so see if y’all can spot who the next character we’ll be visiting next! 💙 P.S. paragraphs in all italics are flashback scenes!

“Excuse me, are you the fae of the garden?”

The watering can of butterscotch shade in your hands tilted back to pause in the sprinkling of water droplets on the freshly bloomed red gardenias. Turning around, you found the source of the small tinkling voice.

“Good morning Young Prince,” you greeted him, setting the watering can down on a nearby bench before making your way over. Sunlight shone abundantly down on the Royal Glasshouse, some areas where the stained-glass windows stood were bathed in colourful hues. Where the light hit your peachy robe made of georgette-silk gave an ethereal glow to your figure.

The Young Prince looked at you with wonder as you bent down to his level before speaking to him again, “and how did you manage to find your way here, little one?” You recognised the mahogany velvet capelet that wrapped around his form; after all, just two weeks ago were you tirelessly hand-sewing those dainty pearls that left a trail of constellations across the velvet surface.

“Hmm…I followed the pretty blue butterflies!” the Young Prince excitedly pointed to where several of them were fluttering over the yellow hibiscuses. Of course he would, he is the King’s son after all and his smile was perfect proof of that too.

Your eyes soften and the sides of our lips tilted further up, “Well they definitely have led you to a special spot haven’t they?”

“Please don’t tell anyone!” the Young Prince turned to look behind him quickly, as if to check if the coast was clear before taking a few shy steps closer to you. He brought up his little hands to cup them around his mouth and anticipating that he was going to whisper, you leaned in with a listening ear. 

“I’m not supposed to come here on my own but Father brings me here sometimes and always tells me that the flowers here are most happy because of the fae who cares for them. I wanted to meet the fae because they never are around when Father and I are here.”

With great effort you suppressed the giggles that threatened to spill out, not wanting the Young Prince to think that you were laughing at him but rather at how adorable of a pout he formed by the end of whispering his little secret to you.

“Who told you that you couldn’t come here by yourself?”

“Everyone says that this glasshouse is Father’s most favourite and no one should come in without him saying ok. Even Mother doesn’t come here.”

Now it was all starting to make more sense to you, trust him to give you a title like fae of the garden. Letting out a gentle sigh, you gave the Young Prince a reassuring smile and held out your pinky.

“I promise not to tell, if you don’t.”

His eyes sparkled immediately as his little pinky was quick to curl around yours, “Oh thank you great fae!”

The soft spot in your heart grew once more.

“Would you like to see what fresh blooms will greet us today, Young Prince?” 

The initial shyness he had melted away and the eager tug on your hands with a delighted laugh was a clear answer to your question. You let him lead you down the cobblestone pathway, patiently answering his questions whenever he’d point out flowers to you along the walk.  

“Ah! Father’s favourite flower!”

The both of you slowed to a stop where the sea of multi-coloured freesias clustered, like a protective circle, around the Juliet Rose bush. With glowing apricot coloured petals that looked tender to touch, the rose bush stood dignified in the middle. Oh, the amount of care and love that went in to growing these roses, it truly is the treasure of the Royal Glasshouse.

You could still feel the phantom prickles on your fingertips from when you’d accidentally catch on one of the thorns whilst pruning. But you also remembered the warm hands that used to encompass yours and those same hands fought many more thorns to build this piece of Eden just for you.   

“Shall we get some to give to him later on?” you suggested, having swiftly gone round the corner to retrieve the pruning knife from the crate.

“Yes, yes! Oh but won’t our shoes get muddy going in there?”

“Your Father didn’t mind losing many good white trousers to the dirt when he used to tend to the garden.”

“Father did that?” gasped the Young Prince, his eyes locked on as you moved with practiced ease. Still unsure as to whether he should risk a scolding from his tutor later on, he stayed behind the pebble border.

You hummed in reply, tip-toeing to avoid disturbing the freesias to reach the rose bush. “He drove the palace tailors mad with the amount of buttons he’d lose…but it was all worth it in the end.”

Your hands cupped one of the larger roses, observing the intricate layers of petals within the heart of the bloom. Just like the layers of memories that stirred within you in that moment.  

”Not again Your Highness!”

Shoving the tunic you had been sewing to fix up a rip at the seams to the side, you hurried over with a handkerchief towards the Crown Prince as he came out of the Royal Glasshouse. When he wasn’t attending his classes or royal duties, all free time was spent on the garden. The only rule was that no one but the Crown Prince was allowed inside.

“Blossom, we’ve talked about this. You know I’d prefer it if you used my name.”

“That’s the last thing you should be worrying about now! The Queen won’t be too thrilled to know that you–“

A snow white camellia was tucked behind your ear, distracting you to a pause. Your hand immediately reached up and your fingers were met with the morning dew still upon the petals.

“This is first of the few that have successfully bloomed.”

“You’re distracting me on purpose, Yunho!”

“Well it got you to say my name, did it not?” he laughed, crouching down slightly to allow you to help wipe some of the soil off his cheeks. Even as you continued to fret over his mess of a stained blouse that certainly will cause a ruckus over afternoon tea, Yunho looked at you with so much affection that it would’ve made the rest of the flowers blush.

“You are impossible,” with no real bite to your words.

“And yet you’ve stayed by me all this time.”

You weren’t just the child of the Queen’s personal seamstress, no, you were Yunho’s first real friend within the palace. He treasured the friendship, for being with you meant Jeong Yunho could breathe freely. 

The hallway had a woeful chill despite the midday sunlight streaming through the arched windows. Perhaps it was reflecting your current state of mind, your feet scurrying with haste to carry you to the safety of your chambers. Only behind closed doors did you allow your walls to crumble.

“It’s settled then, we shall entrust you with the task of creating the wedding gown. After all your sewing skills are immaculate and the Princess herself personally requested for you.”

Your mind kept replaying the announcement, echoes taunting the reality right in your face. Extremely confused at the absence of feeling on top of the world that you’ve been tasked with such a prestigious request nor were you jumping with joy knowing that Aethevintis and Cilon were officiating a strong alliance through a royal engagement.

“Every tailor in the kingdom would’ve killed for this job! Soon you’ll be making a name for yourself!”

The palace staff showered words of encouragement and your mother couldn’t be any prouder…

...yet it did nothing to ease the piercing cold emptiness that invaded your shattered heart.     

“Blossom that would be considered as assault against the Crown Prince.”

You threw an unamused look his way, right after you had nearly kneed Yunho in the face when he effortlessly hitched you over his shoulders. Without so much as giving you a valid explanation as to why he arrived unannounced at the tailors’ room, only to whisk you away from your half-sewn bodice.

“Some of us need to work, Yunho!”

“You’ve been working a fair bit lately, I simply miss spending time with you.”

Now that you have actually acknowledged your feelings towards him, you couldn’t afford to let such words feed the false hope; not when you knew there will be an inevitable split in your pathways. You had been purposely avoiding him since preparations for the Engagement Ball have started, under the guise that you needed complete focus on your commission. It numbed the hurt inside temporarily, but you couldn’t deny that you’ve missed him.

Terribly so.

“Where exactly are you taking us?”

Scrunching your nose slightly at the smell of hay and heavy worn leather upon entering the stables, you noticed the saddle was already on Yunho’s Friesian stallion. Had he planned this beforehand?

“On an adventure!”

Of course, Yunho may have forgotten to notify you that he was supposed to be at a council meeting at that moment instead of bolting out of the stables like your lives depended on it.

He needed to breathe again and you decided to run with him for once, rather than away. The faint shouts of his name could be heard in the distance but consequences be damned if it meant seeing his radiant smile be set free and feeling the steadiness of your entwined hands.

“Watch your step.”

For whatever reason you couldn’t fathom, that Yunho somehow managed to sneak away from his own Engagement Ball without getting noticed and now was guiding you through an alternate and poorly-lit route towards the garden. Had it not been for his insistence that this matter was of great importance, you would’ve dragged him back in to the Grand Hall yourself.

Not even daring to think about the implications of his future wife being left, having to wait inside and what should happen if any of the guests or palace staff saw you with the Crown Prince in this questionable state?

“I’ve already talked to Captain Song and requested for his guard unit to ensure this area is kept clear for tonight, so you needn’t worry.”

His warm hand that held onto yours gave a reassuring squeeze, dampening your anxiousness just a little. You ended up facing the entrance to the Royal Glasshouse, the window panes were crystal clear in the dark that you could see the stars that hung above in the night sky in the reflection. Admittedly this place hadn’t graced your mind in months and you immediately felt disappointment towards yourself for not checking in with Yunho over time about his progress.

As you were about to speak, your vision suddenly goes pitch black.

“Hope you don’t mind but it’s a surprise,” Yunho whispered softly and only then did you realise that those were his hands covering your eyes. Wordlessly you nodded and allowed him to lead you in, an array of floral scents hitting your senses almost immediately, indicating that you both have made it well in to the glasshouse.

Something brushed against the top of your head unexpectedly and you flinched back, hitting Yunho’s solid chest.

“It’s ok, it’s just the blue jade vines. I’ve got you.” You wished your heart would stop fluttering as you felt him shuffle around you.

“Had it been anything else, I would’ve been right out the door and never stepping foot in here again,” you murmured.

You heard Yunho’s low chuckling before, “And leave me behind? That’s harsh. Who would I ever share this with then?”

His hands lifted and you blinked a few times to settle the initial haziness. Your breath caught in your throat as you took in the view; there were lanterns both hanging from the roof and ones scattered around to illuminate the interior with a soft glow, fireflies danced about unbothered and even with the vast amount of plants it wasn’t a suffocating space.

Taking tentative steps to look at some of the flowers up close, you couldn’t help but let out a breathy laugh. Just when you thought Yunho couldn’t get any more incredible than he already is.

“Yunho, this is…you really did it! From which fairytale did you pull this garden out of? All of this is exquisitely stunning!” you said, gently running your hand over the pink and white baby’s breath bushes.

Unbeknownst to you, Yunho’s barely keeping himself together under his calm façade. His heart has been yearning to just go against all odds and take you away with him but that meant condemning you to a lifetime of hardship, in a world where tradition doesn’t take too kindly to change.

He would never do that to you.

If he couldn’t be free to love you openly, then he’d love you in all the ways that required unspoken words. He poured his time and love into creating something, untouched by others and solely from himself, that he could give to you.

Just like he already has with his heart.

So when you heard him call your name, rather than the usual term of endearment he’d use, it set off the butterflies in your stomach. He reached out for you and you met him halfway.

“Did you know these are my favourites? They’re still young but as they grow, you’ll see that they aren’t just ordinary roses. They’re called Juliet Rose.”

Yunho showed you around the garden, telling you of the different flowers and their meanings. Peruvian lilies for lasting bonds, bluebells for devotion, gladiolus for strength, chrysanthemums for happiness, carnations for faithfulness. You were so caught up with keeping track that you nearly missed what Yunho had said next.

“–for an undying love or you’re the only one…”

“What...did you say?”

A barely-there whisper as you choked the words out. The running water from the mini fountain in the lily pad pond was the only sound among the silence that stretched between you both. And then there was the feeling of dread again, that you needed to run. Far away. Now. “W-We should go, th– your future fiancée is wait–“

You barely made it past 4 steps before Yunho caught your wrist and this time, he wasn’t going to let go. He called your name again.

“Please look at me.”

Perhaps it was the desperation in his voice that got through to you, telling you that you’d deeply regret it if you were to leave. So you willed your heart to stay through the pain and to stay for Yunho. It wasn’t until you felt damp velvet against your cheeks that you realised it was from the tears that cascaded down from your eyes and soaked in to Yunho’s suit, for he held your shaking form close to him.

“I’m such a fool.”

“Well, I guess we’re both just fools very much in love then.”    

And then it dawned on you.

This entire garden being Yunho’s vow to you, which made you cry even harder than if he would’ve just confessed out loud to you right from the start. 

Your hands grasped onto his back, fisting the fabric as you buried yourself further in to him. Noting that he smelled of clementines on a cool breezy summer day, you ingrained that scent to your memory. Wishing upon all the stars above that time would stop and allow you both to just live in your little garden.

“And with your permission, could you allow this fool to be selfish for a while more?”

A light kiss to your forehead before your face was tilted up, sore tear-stained eyes meeting his matching ones. “You? Selfish? Impossible.” Keeping your voice soft, partially from not wanting to break the peaceful ambience as you clumsily wiped his tears away.

Yunho knows he already has been selfish especially with time, he can’t stop it but he can draw it out at least. And he’s selfish in wanting to take from you when he knows he cannot give back entirely. But if it’s once in this lifetime that he gets to have you before having to return to the cruel world of normality, then he will get on his knees to beg for your forgiveness for being selfish.

He pours out everything in to the searing kiss he places on your lips and whilst you never imagined your first kiss to be like this, at the very least you finally have closure. Swollen lips, rosy cheeks and warm hands that refused to part until the very last second. Words that you both have been meaning to tell each other over the years are woven into poetries.

The garden kept it all, kept your love safe and your hearts safer.

“Do they make you happy too?”

Just like that, you’re brought back to the present. “What gave it away little one?” you asked, glancing to smile at him before focusing on cutting off two large roses.

“You were making the same face at the roses as Father does when he’s happy…when he tells me about you and the garden,” replied the Young Prince with honesty. The blue butterflies from before came fluttering around the roses that you held in your hands, much like the ones that stirred inside you once more when you heard the words.

Some things never change, do they?

You started to take the thorns off the stems with the pruning knife before replying, “They do, and this is my happy place.” Once you deemed the stems were safe enough for the Young Prince to hold, you made your way back over to him. You knelt down and presented the roses to him, “What do you think?”

He cautiously took the flowers that dwarfed his small hands, peering in to the layers curiously and taking a whiff of the delicate scent. “They’re really pretty! I think Father will like them very much!”

“Shall we go look for a few more blooms? You can create your very own little bouquet.”

The Young Prince made little noises of excitement and rushed to hold on to your hand once more, continuing on the quest to pick more flowers. It wasn’t until awhile later when you were showing the Young Prince how to arrange the flowers he picked to tie them together, that you heard the sound of approaching footsteps.

“Father!”

If Yunho hadn’t already learnt how to harden his heart these past years, the scene before him would’ve surely made him cry with happiness. For a second he could pretend that this was real, that you were the one with the aquamarine diamond band around your finger and that he was coming to join his actual family for tea in the garden. His eyes never wavered from yours, even when his son came barrelling in to his legs waving his bouquet merrily in the air.

“Your Majesty,” you greeted with a formal bow, not missing how Yunho’s smile didn’t quite reach his eyes.  

“Father, I finally got to meet the great fae! We spent all morning finding these!”

Only when you subtly flicked your eyes down towards the child did Yunho respond, quickly reaching down to take the bouquet from his son’s outstretched hand and bringing him in for a hug too.

“I had a feeling I’d find you here, sneaking off from your tutor again,” amusement lacing Yunho’s tone, “and what an intriguing choice of flowers you’ve got there.”

Father and son both adorning mirrored grins on their faces, “they’re for you, do you like them? And I’m sorry for sneaking in here Father!” said the Young Prince, little brows furrowing slightly.

“Very much, thank you…the both of you. And it’s ok as long as skipping your lessons doesn’t become a habit,” said Yunho as he ruffled his son’s hair affectionately and drew his gaze back to you.

“Unfortunately we must take our leave now.”

“How come? Do we really have to go?” The Young Prince seem to have inherit the puppy-dog eyes from his father, putting on the best pout he could muster as he looked between the two of you. Yunho shook his head, bending down to pick his son up. “Remember Grandpa and Grandma are coming by for lunch? Your Mother even asked the cooks to prepare our favourite dessert,” as if attempting to appease him.  

“But…I wanted to spend more time here!”

“You’re always welcome back here little one, if His Majesty is ok with that–”

“Of course, although I hope it won’t be too much trouble?”

You gave a gentle smile and eyes twinkling with mirth, “Considering he hasn’t lost more than two dozen buttons within the last two weeks nor requires daily stitch repairs, I’d say it won’t be too much trouble at all Your Majesty.” That drew out an apology and light laughter from Yunho.  

You walked the King and the Young Prince back to the entrance of the Royal Glasshouse, and just before stepping out Yunho turned to you once more. “Have you stopped by the pond recently?” the random query puzzled you.

“I thought I saw something interesting growing there the other day.”

Please go.

Right after waving a goodbye to Yunho and his son, without a care of making it obvious you hurried to where the lily pads floated at. It wasn’t hard to miss the bundles of serene blues nestled in the damp soil near edge of the pond. As you got closer, the realisation of what those were made your heart soar and ache at the same time.

A couple of tears fell onto the sea of blue petals as you reached out to cradle them with your hands.

“As if I could ever forget…my beloved King,” you whispered to the forget-me-nots that silently delivered Yunho’s words for you—

This garden is forever yours and so is my love, always. Never forget that.  

[heretic-altias]

FFXIV Characters as Star Stable Players

Went through a ton of them talking to my friends and thought maybe some people out there somewhere might enjoy these so look below the cut to begin bc there's a lot of them.

Alphinaud: Every horse is level 15. He feeds them every day. Meticulously plans the best gear out for racing and studies each track. Top high score racer on his server, also does champs in his spare time. Will talk about racing to anyone who will listen

Alisaie: All her horses range from levels 1-5 and are depressed. She never feeds them, she's not wasting star coins on stable care when she could be saving up for another horse for her collection. Beat Alphie in a championship one time, will not let him live it down. Spends most of her time either chasing Alphie around or messing with her friends.

Thancred: has no idea what hes doing but Ryne really likes this game so he's playing with her. Lets her pick and name horses for him.

Ryne: Adores all of the horses. Roped both Thancred and Gaia into playing with her. All of her horses have names and personalities and she loves talking about them. Never asks for star coins because they're expensive, but Thancred always gifts her some on double sc weekend.

Gaia: Another one in the 'never feeds the horses club' has one Friesian and insists it's the best horse in the game and the only one she needs. It's level 15 bc she literally never rides another horse. Mostly plays with Ryne. Wrote a backstory for her horse at Ryne's urging, it's very edgy and tragic.

Y'shtola: Rarely plays. Saves up for a horse, logs on, buys it, takes pictures of it, and leaves for another two months until she can afford another.

Urianger: Spends 300 years naming each horse. Has an entire backstory for his character and all of their horses. Obsessed with the lore, frequently writes long lore posts for sso tumblr. Ryne loves reading his fics. Owns all of the old disc games, spent forever trying to get ahold of them and now treasures them.

G'raha Tia: The WoL likes this game so he expected it to be amazing. Ended up playing mostly with the others, but not really on his own. He just really likes hanging out with everyone else. Thinks all of the horses are nice, could never criticize a new release. Probably named his starter after the WoL or asked them to name it for him.

Emet-Selch: Hates every update. Writes long tumblr posts about how the game is terrible now and used to be better. Only rides old models, has thousands of star coins saved because he refuses to buy any of the new horses.

Lahabrea: Constantly leaves comments on sso's instagram about what they should add to the game. Takes it personally when those things don't appear literally the next week. People wonder why he still plays this game bc all he does is complain on instagram over stupid things. Still adores each of his horses and knows their names and personalities.

Elidibus: Analyzes every update and its pros and cons. Thinks SSO should hire him. Posts carefully worded critique posts that he spent hours thinking out. Forgets to actually play the game because he's so focused on doing this.

Aymeric: Loves taking screenshots. Will carefully coordinate every outfit and tack set he has and loves spending his time on it. Probably an instagram celebrity, maybe even an ambassador. Owns a well known club. Only says nice things about the game online to avoid drama, but admits criticisms to his friends.

Estinien: Instagram famous only because he's in Aym's club and Aym posts about him a lot. Complains about other players annoying him. Eventually privates his account bc Aym's fans are driving him insane. People probably wonder why Aym hangs out with him. Lets Aym take screenshots of him and goes to all the club events even though he'd rather just play his msq and save up for horses because he knows Aym is happy.

Lucia: acts as the co owner of Aym's ingame club. Helps filter out some of the chaotic join requests they constantly get. Manages the wait list, handles the club instagram page. Likes to run her training route every day.

Haurchefant: Thinks every horse is great, also in Aym's club. Loves being an instagram celebrity and talks to his fans all the time. Writes lots of posts about how great his friends and the game are. He's just here to have a good time.

Zenos: wants to race against everyone all the time. Gets mad if you say no. Competes with Alphie for those top scores on the server. Probably has one of those ongoing weirdly dark Instagram story accounts where characters like die and horses are stolen/abused and such.

Ysayle: collects pretty horses and enjoys screenshotting them. Likes light colors and a winter type aesthetic. Her club is the other big club on the server besides Aym's. They all ride white horses and matching outfits. She tries really hard to diffuse any drama in the community.

Hien: honestly just probably having a fun time. Likes to host tumblr meet ups just to talk to the people and hang out. Posts mediocre memes that are really only successful bc he's the most active meme page on tumblr. Everyone knows he's a really chill guy.

Arenvald: Probably plays with Alphinaud sometimes but is a little lost when Alphie starts talking about his racing obsession. Still likes to hang out with him even though Alphie crushes him whenever they race.

Minfillia: Owns the club all the scions are in, but it's really just a club for their friend group to chill in. Probably plans events for them all and coordinates everything so that everyone can make it. Takes good care of all her horses, reminds everyone to buy stable care each week even if they dont actually do it.

Lyse: Only feeds the horse she's riding. Loves running championships just for fun on whatever horse she happens to have when the announcement pops up for one. Chats with other players in the race waiting areas, and sometimes even in global if theres nothing happening.

Papalymo: Plays with Lyse. Tries to tell her she'd have more success in champs if she fed her horses and got some tack with actual stats, but she doesn't listen. Sometimes lets her beat him so she feels good about the race.

Fandaniel: insane. Constantly bugs the game and glitches into locked areas. Brags about it to anyone who will listen.

Magnai: really wants to start a romance RP in global. Never finds anyone who wants to play bc everyone reminds him they're against the game's rules.

Sadu: probably making fun of Magnai in global. Likes to start fights in that chat.

Nero: loves finding glitches and testing exploits. Knows a concerning number of ways to use cheat engine for funny things without being banned. Never actually cheats and uses these things solely for meme purposes. Probably leaks horse coats/models online before release just to watch the chaos.

Cid: Also good at finding bugs, but does so in order to report them to SSO support. Nero hates him reporting all the good bugs.

Ardbert: Has a little friend group club with the the other heros from the first. Doesn't really use social media, they prefer to just use their discord server with each other. All of them train together most afternoons.

Tataru: Her gear closet is perfectly organized. Every horse has an assigned stall. Also writes them backstories. Plans out her star coin saving months in advance and exactly what horses she'll buy in what order. Does not stray from it even if a new one comes out, she'll add it on to the end.

Krile: Another lore nerd, started playing at the same time Alphie did and sometimes reminds him about what he was like as a new player. Loves writing and responding to lore posts. Her and Urianger probably interact online a lot.

Louisoix: Played star stable years ago, was super famous in the community. Quit playing a couple years ago but everyone still talks about him. Others desperately try to be like him, but nobody can fill his shoes in the community.

Forchenault: Writes extensive posts of what he thinks of the game, mostly complaints. Will fight anyone who disagrees. Refuses to meet up with anyone else ingame, nobody actually knows if he even logs on still or just complains. Thinks actually playing every day is a waste of time.

Ashai: Instagram fanboy for zenos and his weirdly dark story. Zenos isn't even famous, he has like 220 followers, but Asahi worships the ground he walks on. Runs a fanpage for him where he just reposts Zenos's screenshots/edits and talks about how great they are. Draws fanart too, but he's a terrible artist. Zenos pretends he doesnt exist. Purposely switched his server to the one Zenos plays on and always keeps an eye out for him.

[welshponies]

as a breeding nerd (which i might find even more interesting than riding itself), i really hate the way breeding has been going in (insert every animal), but currently horses. and this goes for many breeds.

so many warmblood breeders have something to say about friesians for example, or arabs, QH’s, thoroughbreds, when the breeding direction of warmbloods is imo also not very stellar. breeding dressage lines that give you an optic illusion of what really should be trained, to breeding big horses with all the health issues that comes with it and impossible temperament or personality “because performance horses”.

it feels like the same kind of things are bred into almost any other breed at this point, just in different forms. i don’t like where the general friesian model is going (even though older models also had their flaws of course), and i wish for a lot of change in the breeding community here when it comes to picking a stallion and line relations… the monstrosities of the QH halter horses that sane people keep speaking up about but that group of people that continues to breed them.

if people are leaning a certain way in breeding trends is one thing, but the breed associations or markets actively rewarding it is another. we should reward breeders when they breed functional and balanced horses. NOT for breeding a hyper mobile horse that looks spectacular but can’t stay sound.

not to mention the direction in which we’ve been going for decades with warmbloods, to the point that the average equestrian has a hard time finding a decent rideable horse to enjoy versatility with. i rarely see warmbloods on the road or trails compared to other breeds, and when i do they can’t slow down from a trot or it will give their horse a chance to spook. the market has been dry heaving for a balanced, easy to ride horse, but everyone and their mothers want to breed the next totilas, a horse that a majority wouldn’t even be able to ride comfortably (and i also question if breeding a totilas is such a good thing).

now that i’m (involuntarily) part of the friesian breeding scene i’m also seeing big changes in the temperament of these horses whom i’ve always experienced as cool and easy going horses. but they’re not as ‘spectacular’ if they’re not a little hot, i guess. as something the breed always prided itself on i really wonder? not everyone wants your top quality sports horse. most of them just want a good horse with a good head on them.

and there are plenty more flaws i can think of mentioning… i would be here all day. something to think about.

[new-hope-acres-sso]

Meet The Family!

This post contains all of our current rescues and other horses residing on the ranch. Many of which will have forever homes here.

Canada

Canada - “Canadian Dream” | Rescue | Retired | Percheron x Friesian x Quarter Horse | 17.2 hh | Mare | 14 years old

Canada used to be a dressage horse but had to retire due to an injury unrelated to the discipline. Instead of dumping her, the owners brought her to us to care for. She's a cheeky lass who loves exercise. While she doesn't do professional dressage anymore, she enjoys the trail rides we take her on and the occasional light dressage we sometimes host on the ranch.

#Canadian Dream

Avisi

Avisi - “Girl Is A Gun” | Dressage | Purebred Marwari | 16.1 hh | Mare | 8 years old

Avisi is a full time dressage horse and loves the sport. She's taken out for daily trail rides as well as training every day, with Sundays off. She's a sweet girl who adores attention and will follow you everywhere if given the chance.

#Girl Is A Gun

Arakos

Arakos - “Aerion Power” | Race Horse | Purebred Akhal-Teke | 15.7 hh | Stallion | 7 years old

Arakos is our resident race horse. His previous owner passed away due to illness and he was surrendered to us. We attempted to rehome him without much luck, as he's a serial escaper. We quickly learned that letting him roam the ranch as he wishes was best. Arakos regularly participates in races all around Jorvik, and calming him down afterward is usually a challenge because he simply wants to run. He's a goofy boy with an interesting personality and a tendency to get stuck in some strange places!

#Aerion Power

Marvelle

Marvelle | Rescue | American Paint x English Thoroughbred | 15 hh | Mare | 4 years old

Marvelle is our local therapy horse and assists Obsidian with welcoming the rescues, as well as helping people with mental illnesses or little kids who want to start riding. She might be used as an official lesson horse someday, but for now she just hangs around the ranch.

#Marvelle

Barden

Barden - “Magical Eagle” | Barrel Racer | American Quarter Horse x English Thoroughbred | 14.7 hh | Gelding | 10 years old

Barden is a part time barrel racer who tends to ignore everyone unless he's working or training. We take him out for trail rides every day and train him 4 times a week with occasional races inbetween. At the moment he's the grumpy (almost) senior.

#Magical Eagle

Asia

Asia - “Icy Omaha” | Dressage | English Thoroughbred | 15 hh | Mare | 7 years old

Our lovely Asia is a full time dressage horse. She has a cheeky look in her eye with an attitude to match! She manages to steal treats and a bite of food from unsuspecting volunteers on a regular basis. She adores training and loves causing mischief.

#Icy Omaha

Pearl

Pearl - “Art Cadeau” | Rescue | Dressage & Show Jumping | Purebred Arabian | 14.9 hh | Mare | 9 years old

Pearl is a part-time dressage and show jumping horse under the name of “Art Cadeau”. She adores attention and loves small children. Pearl follows everyone around and is always the center of attention wherever she goes. Don't think you'll be able to visit NHA without Pearl greeting you! Pearl was surrendered to us at the age of 5 after being rescued from terrible conditions that are in no way fit for humans nevermind a horse. She's always had a sparkle in her eye and fire in her soul.

#Art Cadeau

Mystic

Mystic | Rescue | Lusitano x Connemara | 16.2 hh | Mare | est. 5 years old

Mystic is our newest rescue. She's estimated to be 5 years old, the previous owners never disclosed her age even after a lot of probing on our part. She's slightly aloof and distrustful of humans, however she's beginning to come around. We're unsure whether she'll ever be rideable or adopted, so for the time being her home will be with us.

#Mystic

[1zashreena1]

No Shame 8

Pairing: M/F,  OC/Priest!Diego (OR NOT) Jimenez [Starz Power] AU IMAGINE

Rating: LITERAL FILTH

Warnings: feelings-dick-feelings sandwich, Too Cute, MOAR BABIES, the babies are in danger, sand gets everywhere, power imbalance, astronomical blasphemy, Diego’s pornographic mouth, old timey woman related bullshit, consent issues, set some time before 1900 in what will be present day Mexico.

Summary:  Remember the Zorro TV shows? And the movie? And also Beauty and the Beast? It’s like that but with Diego dick.

A/N:  I guess I’m just gonna keep writing until it stops??  I am an atheist so please keep that in mind as I unintentionally mangle Christianity in general and Catholicism in particular. This was prompted by an ask, you know who you are >.>

Tag a friend! @girlpornparadise @nicke0115 @fleurfatale89 @mandoplease @heresathreebee @chensingmachinee @kid-from-new-zealand @xxidontwikeitxx @demoncatstone @allalngthewtchtower @dirtynerdy98 @lettherebrelight

Everything is dark again. You blink repeatedly before realizing it is not you, the sun has already set. Moonlight is shimmering on the patio tiles in the little courtyard, Did he leave the doors open?

Diego is not in the bed, but the bedroom door is open. You slide off the side of the bed and wince, your poor little parts are sore. Between the paddle, his beard, and the pounding, you are limping ever so slightly. As you round into the bathroom you encounter Diego standing at the sink, drying his hands.

Oddly enough, he is wearing all black.

"Hello." You whisper softly, unsure if you are interrupting. The smile he turns on you is both reassuring and decimating. No one needs to look so good, with those damn dimples.

"There you are. I have clothing for you," Diego indicates a small stack on the countertop, "Meet me in the kitchen after you dress. We are going on an adventure." His voice is excited, he is fairly quivering with anticipation. He steps forward to cup your chin in those beautiful hands, kisses your forehead, and then squeezes past you to disappear down the hall.

What just happened?

What is about to happen?

You wash your face and braid your hair before dressing, the clothing is a simple ensemble of a shirt and flowing… pants? They resemble a split skirt except the material is very similar to the shirt; loose and airy, and the "split" goes high up like pants. It is ridiculously comfortable and you are actually a bit angry that something like this existed and you did not know of it. Your short boots are waiting for you in the middle of the bedroom floor. Message received, Diego, you chuckle as you don them.

Diego is in the kitchen eating without you.

"Hey! I want food." You pout immaturely. Diego only smiles and hands over his half full plate. You realize that he was planning on sharing it with you to begin with and feel a bit self-conscious. Oh, it does not stop you from eating, of course, but you do catch brown eyes watching you amusedly. 

Diego leads you to the stables where Dante is already saddled and waiting. To his side is the Friesian mare who birthed Cirrus, also saddled and waiting for you. Delilah is pleased to see you, she huffs in your face and nickers gently. Dante, ever so much like his master, demands some of your attention before you are permitted to mount. You kiss his velvety muzzle, then let Diego boost you up.

Delilah is actually a bit larger than Dante, you are of an even height with Diego once both seated. Although he does tend to treat you as an equal, it is nice to not have to look up at him for once.

"Where are we going?" The question has to be called after him because Diego is leading you away. It does not require much effort on your part, horses naturally want to keep together. You trust Delilah's sure footing in the darkness. 

Diego turns back and smiles, you can see his teeth glittering in the full moonlight, to tell you, "The ocean, little girl."

Huh?

"In the middle of the night?" Confusion colors your voice. You wonder what the purpose of this little expedition is. Delilah follows Dante when the path narrows through the forest, but she sidles up alongside every time the road is wide enough. 

"This is a very particular night during a particular time. I think you will enjoy it very much." Diego is so very proud, he reminds you of a child that simply KNOWS you are going to LOVE their gift.

You pass through some archways of thick foliage, then a hall like structure carved through a cliffside, to pop out onto a beach. It is stunning.

The sand is wide and dark, both outer ends of the beach are buttressed by cliffside, but dense rainforest forms the backdrop for most of this cove. The waves crash in the distance, there is much wet sand visible where the tide has gone out. The moonlight twinkles like gemstones on the water and the air is filled with the sounds of wildlife. 

You do not realize you are crying until the burning tears roll down your cheeks. Never before have you seen anything like this. Its is profoundly large and awe inspiring, you feel very tiny and overwhelmed. Diego circles back to check on you.

"Are you unhappy?" He is watching you intently, trying to judge your mood.

"It is beautiful, Diego." You turn to him in a daze. Your grateful whisper is bursting with emotion, "Thank you."

He smiles broadly and looks so...soft. one large hand comes up in offering, you take it without thinking. Dante sidesteps closer until all four of you are pressed together. Diego indicates an unremarkable patch of sand in the distance with a soft, "Watch."

Nothing happens for a long few minutes until suddenly the sand is moving. You lean forward and squint, trying to comprehend what you are seeing. Slowly but surely, tiny things are emerging from the ground and heading out to sea. They look like some kind of sea creatures?

"What is that?" You breathe.

"Baby sea turtles. They hatch and run directly for the safety of the water. I come down here on the nights of the full moon during this season." Diego explains without a hint of condescension. When you look to him you notice that he is watching the sky.

"Why?" It is clear that he has a purpose in doing this. 

"The full moon shows the babies easily, it draws the sea birds. I can chase them away so the little ones have a better chance." 

This man is never what he seems.

You watch him in wonder, then look down to your small hand in his large one. It takes a moment for your epiphany to sink in, but when it does…

This is what I want.

I want Diego. 

Tugging on his hand, you bring his attention back to you. Diego's eyes are black in the darkness, his face open and interested in whatever you are about to do. You take in the broad shoulders, his strong neck and wide chest, every perfectly blessed inch of him. It is easy to see his strength, but even easier for you to see is his gentle softness. The easy way he handles horses, the warm care for these itty bitty wild creatures that give nothing back to him. His eagerness to please you, to provide for you, is like nothing you have ever known.

You are kissing before you can think to lean into him. Soft lips, scratchy beard, and hot tongue become the focus of your world. Everything is a blur, you are moving, being lifted and carried, it does not matter because the kissing never stops. Your feet are on the ground, then your butt, Diego is on top, you pull and tug on his clothing, and then it is nothing but his skin on yours. Every inch you can reach, can kiss, receives special treatment. He has a breast in his mouth and a hand between your legs, it is not enough. It will never be enough.

Reaching down between your bodies to stroke his length vibrates a groan into the nipple to which he is attached. It feels heavenly but you know it could be sublime if he would just take you already. He is hard and leaking, you swipe up yourself and spread the wetness over his erection to entice him. When that fails you admit total defeat and simply beg, "Please, please Diego. Need you."

"Yes, little girl." Diego mutters as he positions himself over you, rubbing the head through your folds as he hisses in pleasure. Your writhing is either very tempting or highly unhelpful because he laces his fingers with yours and holds you down to the sand. 

"Look at me." He growls, teeth clenched and brow furrowed. You drown in his gaze, deeper than the ocean beyond. Diego swallows, his Adam's apple bobbing, "Be mine, little girl. Say yes to me right now, let me have you, let me keep you."

His need washes over you, stronger than any tide, and you want nothing more than to be swept away. Carried off to never return to the life you once knew. It is terrible and exhilarating and you want it, oh, do you want it.

"Yes. Yes!" Nodding, you cry as he fills you entirely. It feels as though your whole body has been hollowed only for Diego to complete you. He buries his face in your neck and worries the sensitive skin with his teeth. You wrap your legs around his hips and urge him faster. Everything outside of the two of you is blurry nonsense, so far beneath your concern. 

"Little girl, you are mine. Will fill you, please you, keep you. Mine, mine, come for Father." That rough voice is breathy with emotion, his demanding pleas cannot be ignored when he makes you feel so very good. Your fingers curl into his broad shoulders, you can feel every sinful inch of him throbbing inside you, Diego kisses up your neck as you tighten around him. So close, please, please, yes.

"That is it. Give yourself to me. Be mine, my good little girl, Zera." He pants into your ear. Your spine bows as you crest, rippling down around him in ecstatic spasms. The resistance of his thick heat buried deep only heightens your pleasure. You assume you are making noise, but you do not care. Diego whines softly as he follows you, grinding deep.

The collapse of his big body on top of you is more comforting than stifling. Both of you lie there, chests heaving, until something touches your foot. The pitch of your shriek startles everyone on the beach. Diego rolls to his back and carries you with him, cradled into his lap for safety. The horses are over by the treeline sneaking illicit snacks. You whip around to find the source of your terror and-

It is a tiny little turtle. 

There is a nest opening just past where your feet were and dozens of the babies are tunneling out, making their way to the water.

"Oh." You utter lamely.

Diego flops to his back and laughs until he cries, there are snorts, too, just for good measure. You want to be irritated that he is laughing at you but it is not possible. Rather, you plop your torso across his and join him. The little ones pay no mind to the insane humans.

Diego brushes the sand off of your back and you wince, the scratches from earlier in the week are still tender. A cascade of sand flows across his chest when you turn your head and your hair shakes. You eye the water intently.

"What are the currents like? Or the sand beyond the waterline?" The questions take Diego by surprise. 

"Do you truly mean to swim in the ocean? Right now?" He gawks at you. Really, is that scoff necessary? 

"... yes? I can swim. And rather well at that. I have been in the ocean before, too." You lift your chin in defiance.

"There is a steep drop off out further, but if you stick to waist height or so it should be fine. The sand is the same, currents are fine until the drop." Diego answers dazedly as you stand in front of him, nude in the moonlight. Despite having spent inside you mere minutes ago, he looks ravenous again.

"Are you coming?" Your taunt is delivered over your shoulder as you stroll away, his dark eyes are trained on your rump. He really does like it.

The water is a bit more chilly than you expected, it hardens your nipples with a shiver. A heart attack is provided to you free of charge when you turn back. You cannot stop the whimper, That man should come with a warning.

Diego stalking to you, emblazoned in ethereal moonlight, completely and blessedly nude, needs to be the last thing you see before you die. Maybe Mother was right and there is a God.

You manage to focus long enough to rinse off most of the sand, your hair is now ten pounds heavier with seawater. Diego, of course, completes the entire activity with devastating grace and no small show of gleaming muscles. Your entire train of thought has narrowed down to 'hrrrrrrrr' when something brushes your leg in the waist deep water. When you look down you see the triangular tip of a fin and your brain locks up.

"We have to get out. Now!" You hiss as the long shadow under the water circles further away.

"What? What is wrong?" Diego’s confusion turns into determination to protect you the instant he sees your face. All you can do is point to the shadow with a trembling hand. Diego grabs your waist and pushes, "Go. Quickly but controlled. Try not to splash."

You do as he says, trusting him at your back. The water has lowered to your knees when you hear a splash and turn just in time to watch Diego punch a shark.

You reach out and snatch his other wrist to yank him out of the water with you. In a mostly controlled fall you both collapse to the sand above the waterline. Diego is watching the water, you are watching him.

"Are you hurt?" The breathless anxiety of your question is loud in the night. Diego shakes his head but continues glaring at the ocean. You cannot see anything out there, so you ask, "What is it?"

Diego’s jaw grinds before he answers you, "It is eating the babies." And he cannot do anything about it. The anguished frustration in his voice breaks your heart. You slide next to him and wrap your arms around his larger one. Tentatively, your fingers stroke over his palm, Diego laces his fingers through yours with no hesitation. 

"You cannot protect all the babies. And the shark still needs to eat. I am sorry." Unsure if that is helpful or not, you still have to try. He sighs deeply and nods, resigned to the morbid knowledge.

"I know. And I know it is the way of things. But they are babies!" He sputters indignantly.

Hysterical giggles are bubbling up in your chest, you struggle to keep it down. You are going to lose this battle and you know it. Diego looks down at you when an aborted snort escapes, his questioning brow breaks you.

"YOU PUNCHED A SHARK!" You shriek madly and dissolve. It is too much, you cannot process this, you are going to vomit from laughter. Folding in half, you howl into your own stomach and cry. Diego is chuckling beside you, not that you can hear it over yourself, but his shoulders are shaking with it. He has to drag you to the horses where you both dress, him quickly and efficiently, you in mangled spurts of action and chortles.

The stablehands are waiting for your return, they take the horses and Diego ushers you inside. Your body melts into the bed and you are fast asleep before you can laugh yourself silly again.

----------------

Something large and heavy is on your chest. It is very bright and you do not like it. Squinting downward, you see a rowdy mass of brown hair, Oh yes, a Diego.

The large man is on top of you, his head pillowed on your bosom. Diego snuffles softly and burrows in deeper, tickling you with his scruff. One huge hand is next to your head, it is the left. You cannot help but remember last night.

Was that a proposal? Did I accidentally agree to get married again? It makes no sense, he is already receiving all the benefits of a union without the hassles.

The sheet is bunched up above his rear, with a few gentle tugs from your toes it is slowly revealed. You do rather enjoy looking at him. The sudden urge to put your mouth on him is suffocating. I wonder if I could move without waking him.

The answer is no, as the second you move more than a few inches Diego pops upright in startlement. You freeze and watch him carefully. After confirming that there is no threat he looks down to your chest, then up to your face. Amazing.

"Do you need up?" The rasping voice is even more hoarse first thing in the morning and it makes you tingle. 

"No. I just wanted to touch you. And, er, maybe, other… things?" Your squirming only makes your chest jiggle and Diego is delighted with all of your responses. Those huge hands cup your breasts and you moan. Loudly. 

"Oh yes, you must wake me every time you get these urges. I will help you absolve yourself of these sinful thoughts." Diego purrs, eyes closing with pleasure as he grinds his growing length against your crotch. 

"Wait, I mean yes please, but, I, I had a thought. Something to try? Maybe?" You stutter through the request, rolling your hips with his movements. 

"Yes, little girl. Tell me your idea. You have the best ideas." Diego is flattening your breasts, leaning down to lap over your nipples in lazy rounds. Your hands cover his and you moan as your legs come up.

"Well I want you to, to, um, to lick me. But! I also want to, to do, the same, to you." The squeaky confession is so humiliating that you cover your face briefly. Diego's warm chuckle is not as reassuring as it should be.

"And how do you propose to do both simultaneously, hmm? What devious method have you devised to achieve this level of filthy debauchery?" His rumble is much closer, when you peek out between your fingers he is in your face, licking his lips lasciviously. Your center clenches tight.

"What if you lay o-on your back and I-" you cannot believe this is coming out of your mouth, "I lay on top of you, but, but like yesterday? Facing away, you see."

Diego has stopped moving.

You peer over your fingers to look at him. The bearded jaw hangs open and those brown eyes are very round. I have gone too far. This is too much. I am truly a whore, depraved, prurient, disgusting, irredeemable--

"You. Are. Brilliant." 

Diego is rushing to get off of you, throwing himself down on the bed, and dragging your body to him. This is… not the response you were expecting. Really, Zera? The man is the most perverted person you have ever encountered. 

He tosses you onto his chest as you yelp and pulls your hips up to his face. You can feel his hot breath on your core and you quiver with anticipation. There is only one problem: you cannot reach his erection.

"I need to be closer, I cannot rea-eeeech!" You squawk as he licks you from top to bottom. Oh yes, there it is. Your hips follow him wantonly. Diego scoots upward, you get carried along, until he is propped against the headboard. This moves his head closer to you and thus you can move further down on him and, well, now your face is full of cock.

Resting your full weight on him earns you a sigh, but the strangled groan brought on by wrapping both hands around his length is even better. It is easier this way, he cannot see your awkward facial expressions, you feel freer to be more exuberant with your activities. The first lick you manage makes his hips jerk. The needy whine he emits fills you with power.

Diego palms your rear enthusiastically, much to your pleasure. It seems you really, really, like to be touched there. You moan around the head of his cock and Diego hisses, "Sí, little girl. Take it into your mouth, you like my cock?" 

Pulling off with an absolutely disgusting slurp, you answer him slyly, "Almost as much as you like my buttocks." 

Honestly, you should have expected the slap.

"Again!" You demand imperiously before diving back down onto his length.

"Oh, you bad girl. Do you need to be spanked while you suck my cock?" Diego coos conceitedly. Your nod and muffled 'mm-hmm' earns you several more slaps. Each one is harder than the last until he is pushing you down on his erection with every impact. Everything about this makes you writhe desperately. His leaking manhood tastes divine, the big hands on your cheeks perfectly overwhelming, and the feel of him panting into your most highly forbidden place; it is all so very good.

"Look at you," Diego breathes, "Dripping wet and slobbering on my cock. Beautiful." His hands hold you open, He must be able to see inside me, it is humiliating and enticing and very confusing. He goes on obliviously, "Such a pretty little thing, open and wet for Father. Let me see you squeeze--" 

You are obeying without thought, clenching down hard and hoping he can see the rippling of your muscles. His pained moan confirms it is visible. Your answering moan makes his cock jump in your mouth.

"Yes, oh sí, good girl." Diego growls, his hips twitch and you dig your nails into his skin, the growl turns into a whine. Maybe I am not the only one who likes rougher handling…

Experimentally, you rake nails over his thighs. Diego parts his legs and pants into your center. You let your hands slide between and claw into the muscle, Diego jerks and moans. Feeling exceptionally bold today, you decide to lightly hit him on his inner thigh.

The slap echoes loudly, but his moan is louder yet. 

Before you can raise your hand to repeat the action he is yanking you up a bit and attacking your core. He is licking and sucking as if starved, the avalanche of sensation renders you boneless. The hot, wet pressure is almost too much. Diego takes advantage of your limpness to thrust into your mouth.

It should be insulting for him to use you thusly. It arouses you beyond your understanding. You try a few different angles and positions before settling on one that allows him smooth motion but keeps him from going deep enough to choke you. His girth requires your jaw to be held widely open and every time he withdraws you get a taste of saltiness.

Diego is growling incessantly, the vibrations feel amazing but you are too overwhelmed to reach completion while this is happening. The sensory overload is maddening. He is leaking profusely, it will not be much longer for him. You pull off to usher him along, you are feeling very bold today indeed.

"I want to swallow it. Give me what I want, Father."

The big body under yours shakes as Diego grips your hips hard enough to bruise and takes your mouth as he has taken your womanhood. You hang on and struggle to breathe, his beard is rubbing your nub harshly. The erratic thrusts are chaotic, haphazard and hurried, Diego is frantic. You moan lowly and it pushes him over the edge. 

One huge hand lands on your head, holding you down as his straining length pours down your throat. Your eyes water as you pant through your nose, trying to swallow without gagging. Diego's hips twitch violently as he sobs into your folds.

Finally, he collapses to the bed, his heaving chest bouncing you. The flow has  tapered off, you pull back and wipe your mouth with a few soft coughs. Diego releases you deliberately, you can feel his hands shaking as they leave your body. 

"That was not too much? Still acceptable?" You ask anxiously, ever afraid that you will go too far. The growing silence makes your eyes burn with unshed tears, I will always be too much.

"You? Little girl. Zera. Turn around." Diego rasps. You are embarrassed, but somehow powerless to disobey this man. Sliding off to the side and turning around, you keep your head down and your eyes turned away. He sits up somewhat and gestures for you to come to him. Trembling, you do as requested. His hands grip your ribcage and he lifts you over him, you assist unthinkingly by moving your legs out of the way. Now straddling his wide chest, you have nowhere to look but at him. Diego cups your face and sighs up at you with big brown eyes.

"You may be the most aberrantly and perfectly perverse woman I have ever met. There is no such thing as too far if that is where you are going. Now come up here and receive your reward for being a very good girl who swallows my cock." Diego waggles his eyebrows at you ridiculously and you cannot help but laugh.

"Fine, but what do you mean 'come up here' ?" You are already on top of him, what more could be required? Diego releases your face to grip your rump again. He uses the hold to drag you up, up until your knees go over his shoulders, his face disappears beneath your crotch, and there is no way to mistake his intention. OH.

The first lick bows your back, the second brings your clawing fingers to the headboard, and the third makes you keen brokenly. Your hips want to follow his tongue, Is that allowed? It must be. You roll over him and Diego moans happily. His hands cup your butt cheeks to urge you on with enthusiasm. Taking him at his word, or moan, you slowly ease into motion. It takes no time at all and his constant happy noises until you are riding his face as you would his manhood.

The feel of his tongue covering nearly all of you is glorious. You try different pressures, resting ever more of your weight on him until it is perfect. The fear of smothering him eases as Diego is making a never ending stream of pleased sounds. The vibrations make your eyes roll back, his tongue is soft and hot, the beard rubs you deliciously, and those damn hands are gripping you so tightly.

"I-- oh, this is. You, yes, yesss." Your mouth does not require your consent. "Please, please, yes, this feels so good." Diego moans as you whine. Your hips jerk ever faster, his tongue presses insistently on the focal point of your pleasure. It is deliriously good. He clutches and massages your rear, he has not forgotten that you like for it to receive attention. Those long fingers slip between to rub everything he can reach. It is your undoing.

"Oh, yes, yes! Ahhhh!" If you had any sanity left you would be mortified to hear yourself. Your whole body quivers, your stomach tightens, and you clench down on emptiness as you come apart. The rounds of contractions are strong, waves of pleasure deep.

Your forehead crashes to the wall as you go limp, but Diego is not finished. He continues with his tongue, but his fingers come forward under you to slip inside. The noise you make into the wall is barely human. That wicked tongue never pauses as he uses his fingers in lieu of his cock. Long, slow, deep strokes into you as he laps over your very happy bud in infinite licks. You shake through another peak, sobbing into your arms, letting him do whatever he wishes.

You flinch away as it eases, everything is sore, and he releases you with no struggle. He knows I am not going anywhere, you chuckle to yourself. You sink down next to him in a heap, still panting. Diego looks extraordinarily pleased. He opens his mouth and you swoop down before he can start talking. 

His facial hair is wet, it is tangy and salty, similar but different to the taste of his seed. You like this, too. The kisses are languid, you are both still tired. 

"Mmm. Sleep, little girl. We have an errand to complete later." Diego rumbles into your mouth, licking over your lips one last time as he settles your smaller body into his. You are too tired to fight. 

"What doing?" You yawn into his ribs.

"Mm, town. Go into town." Diego murmurs as he pets you down. Despite your misgivings, Diego can soothe you into calm unconsciousness with ease. You trust this man and he clearly means to take care of you.

Just once, maybe I will let someone else handle things.

[elpatronfemenias]

👫📚🐈

👫 Who would you put before everyone else?

How could he pick just one person when people love him as he is despite his habits. He looks across the room to his father first, a man who raised him like a king and gave him everything he wished for, and yet a man who has never come clean about his mother’s disappearance. Then Ravi and Marcus and Jessica. Family, yet he knows they’d stab him in the back if they got the chance. He sees Ikki then and can’t help but smile. His one and only friend, the only real thing he has. Ikki has been there for it all so how could Rafael not love him? His chest feels tight though, weird, and he looks away with a grimace. He’s close, but he’s not it. “Kitty,” he answers finally in a soft breath that’s very uncharacteristic of him. He thinks of Kitty’s intelligent eyes, the sound of her laughter whenever they get into trouble together, the strength of her hand in his when he needs help and the warmth of her embrace when life was too much. “I’d destroy anyone who hurt her.”

📚 Which fictional character do you aspire to be like?

“Kuzco. You know, from The Emperor's New Groove” he smirks in childish mirth. It had always been one of his favorite movies as a child, so it was no wonder he still compared to the young emperor up to this day. “Not the whole bit about becoming a llama, obviously, although it’d help me fuck off to who knows where and ignore my responsibilities. But you know, mostly him being betrayed and coming out on top with a new set of friends and a pool with a whole ass waterfall in it. How much do you think it’d cost to build that?” 

🐈 Do you have any pets?

Rafael’s eyes light up at the question, pulling out his phone from his back pocket to show them pictures of a gorgeous black horse. “That’s Baltazar. He’s a Thoroughbred. I don’t get to ride him all that often because he’s trained for racing but he’s my absolute favorite. I’ve had him since he was a baby, so it’s been incredible to watch him grow.” Next, he changes the picture to one of a thin, beige mare. “That’s Galatea. Probably my most expensive horse, honestly. She’s a cremello Akhal Teke. Absolutely gorgeous and very sweet. We love each other, so I go visit her at least a couple times a week.” After that, and for the next 10 minutes he goes through many pictures of many horses, talking excitedly about every single one of them. “So yeah, we’ve got a few Arabian, a few Friesian, an Andalusian or two...”

[diavoloi]

CHOI SEUNGHYUN, THIRTY TWO, MALE, HE/HIM & THEY/THEM  Have you seen BAK TAEMIN down in St. Landry again? I heard they’re one of the BOSS, of the WILLIAMS now. They’ve been so CYNICAL & EVASIVE lately, it’s no wonder. I’ll sure miss when they were SPONTANEOUS & FLIRTACIOUS. I wonder if they’re going to stop listening to GOD’S GONNA CUT YOU DOWN BY JOHNNY CASH now, or if FINE PRESSED SUITS AND EXPENSIVE WINE will still announce ‘em

hi friends ! i’m noct ( she / her pronouns are fine ) and i’m super pumped to be here ,  but also really bad at doing intros . it’s been a while since i’ve been in a group but i’m a sucker for a crime based rp so here i am ! anywho , if you want to plot or anything just come yell at me on discord . so without further ado .... meet tae your resident astrophile with a penchant for collecting things like a squirrel before winter xo

BASIC INFORMATION

FULL NAME: taemin williams ( bak , which he goes by in preference ) NICKNAME : tae AGE: thirty two DATE OF BIRTH: november 8th HOMETOWN: seoul , south korea CURRENT LOCATION: st landry , lousiana ETHNICITY: korean NATIONALITY: american GENDER: male PRONOUNS: he/him  /  they/ them ORIENTATION: bisexual RELIGION: catholic raised POLITICAL AFFILIATION: generally liberal OCCUPATION: boss of the williams family LIVING ARRANGEMENTS: has a place in the williams’ manor , but also has a private home on the outskirts of town LANGUAGES SPOKEN: english , korean , chinese , japanese , russian some spanish

PHYSICAL APPEARANCE

FACE CLAIM: choi seunghyun HAIR COLOUR: black / blonde / varies EYE COLOUR: brown HEIGHT: 6′1 WEIGHT: 175 BUILD: fit/athletic TATTOOS: one small on his left hand  PIERCINGS: none CLOTHING STYLE: well pressed suits , casual wear of collared shirts , sweaters , solid t-shirts and jeans USUAL EXPRESSION: stoic  DISTINGUISHING CHARACTERISTICS: eyebrow scar  

HEALTH.

PHYSICAL AILMENTS: none NEUROLOGICAL CONDITIONS: none. ALLERGIES: none SLEEPING HABITS: average EATING HABITS: a light eater , usually eats fairly healthy EXERCISE HABITS: he’s very fit , exercises often EMOTIONAL STABILITY: has a very steady temperament SOCIABILITY: generally introverted , but good at keeping a conversation BODY TEMPERATURE: always warm ADDICTIONS: tobacco DRUG USE: none ALCOHOL USE: drinks often

PERSONALITY.

POSITIVE TRAITS: charming , intelligent , protective NEGATIVE TRAITS: cunning , cynical , evasive GOALS/DESIRES: to help the williams family thrive FEARS: none really , though not a fan of heights HOBBIES: watching the stars , singing , acoustic guitar HABITS: getting fussy with small details , collecting things such as artifacts , art etc

FAVORITES WEATHER: fall COLOUR: a soft red MUSIC: anything MOVIES: dramas SPORT: hockey BEVERAGE: a bourbon enthusiast , also loves tea FOOD: a decent steak when he’s feeling like it ANIMAL: lions

FAMILY.

FATHER: unknown / adopted by carter williams MOTHER: bak hayoon / adopted by melinda williams SIBLING(S): adopted siblings CHILDREN: none PET : one horse , a black friesian , monet FAMILY’S FINANCIAL STATUS: upper class

**EXTRA** ZODIAC SIGN: scorpio MBTI: INFJ ENNEAGRAM: the achiever  TEMPERAMENT: melancholic HOGWARTS HOUSE: slytherin MORAL ALIGNMENT: true neutral PRIMARY VICE: lust PRIMARY VIRTUE: knowledge ELEMENT: water

BIOGRAPHY ( triggers , death mention )

TAEMIN BAK WAS BORN IN SEOUL SOUTH KOREA to a young , unwed mother who died in childbirth due to complications . with two parents unable to tend to the infant , and the father otherwise unknown to everyone in the family , the little boy was placed in an orphanage where they had hoped he would have a chance at a better life .

tended to by the nuns of the orphanage , taemin was a bright , happy little boy that was adopted by a traveling couple that  had recently wed and unable to have children of their own . hoping to offer the child an opportunity , they took him home with them to the bustling town of st. landry louisiana which was where the williams family  thrived within their old school style of mob organization rule .

growing up with the best education , private schools and a taste for the finer things allowed  taemin a reach that not many others would be fortunate to have , though to say that humbled him would be a mistake . truth be told , taemin never felt as if he fit in , while being a part of the williams family clique because of the close relations to the family , he’d always found himself introverted , burying himself in his schoolwork and reading on his free time .

one of his fascinations , however , had dawned a new light , was the mob rule that the williams family seemed to carry within the town . longing to work for them , he was swift to pledge his loyalty to their cause , learning everything that he could in order to become the perfect soldier , someone willing to do anything ( include getting his hands dirty ) for the good of the family . it wasn’t before long that taemin became something of an expert on the subject of getting  his hands dirty , working his way alongside the most skilled of assassins and training others under him on how to be swift and efficient .

however , the financial crash left the city in ruins and while the williams family remained strong , not many were able to make it through the rough  beginnings of the crisis . with few to trust , it began to feel as though the most knowledgeable , the most loyal would be left behind and in this state of ruin , taemin rose to the challenge , stepping up alongside the boss to help guide them through with his expertise on the criminal empire , graciously studied on the financial side and the drive to help maintain order within the city . this made him the obvious choice to take over the williams family as his knowledge of all things in their business had become his specialty 

PERSONALITY

taemin williams ( bak ) is a calculating individual who prefers to take in the situation before making a move . he is intelligent and always looking to learn new things , especially those that will help him and the organization thrive . a little  bit of an introvert , he still has a way with words and a charming smile but also has a highly vicious side to him that will often unfurl without any hint or warning . while often seeming distant to strangers or people that don’t interest him , however , taemin is fiercely protective of those within his circle and will make sure to do anything to ensure they earn their place at the top of the st landry food chain . 

𝐖𝐀𝐍𝐓𝐄𝐃 𝐂𝐎𝐍𝐍𝐄𝐂𝐓𝐈𝐎𝐍𝐒

[kusunogatari]

[ Naruto OC x Canon Ship Week 2020 - In Love and War ] [ @naruto-ocxcanon-ship-week​ || @uchiha-madara​ ] [ Suigin Ryū, Uchiha Madara, Uchiha Izuna, Terumi Mei, Senju Tobirama ] [ Verse: To Rule Them All ] [ Trope: Arranged Marriage ]

Standing along the edge of her chamber balcony, a lone woman rests marless hands along its railing. From the lofty perch, she gazes down into the valley that twists and winds between snow-capped peaks. Moonlight paints the scene in soft greys and shadows.

She should be sleeping...but she can’t begin to find rest.

A soft sigh plumes in the chilled night air. Like the fog that often blankets her homeland, it drifts slowly, unhurriedly out from the cliffside castle. Carved from the very mountain face, it watches over the vale unblinkingly, waterfalls cascading out past its windows to join the river below.

The rumbling of the water is usually enough to lull her to sleep. But tonight, too much weighs on her mind.

Far, far too much.

Her eyes don’t see what lies before them, flickering in thought in their sockets. The eddying news and arising conflicts won’t stop flowing, keeping her conscious.

What should she do…?

It’s now more than ever she wishes for her mother’s guidance. Someone older, wiser, to help steer her in the right direction.

But she’s alone...and with war on the horizon, her kingdom surrounded on all sides.

Since the first recordings of history, they’ve remained detached from the other nations and their squabbles. With their world’s holy sites all contained within her borders, that influence of faith has allowed them to stand alone, untouched, for centuries. A careful balance maintained between the other lands to avoid overstepping and claiming too much influence over a place that - in truth - belongs to them all.

But now…? War once again threatens to rise. And the balance is crumbling. Rather than seeking to protect her lands, the others now seek to conquer it.

And without an army, a neutral place of peace...Ryū fears they will fall like wheat to a scythe. Unless the gods themselves intervene...they have no defense beyond the walls of the mountains. The chosen people of the valley do not fight. They’ve never had to.

To spill blood on the sacred land was to invite the wrath of the gods.

But that fear seems to be waning in the other nations. And their lack of restraint may be the end of the valley people chosen by the pantheon.

And she fears there is nothing she can do but pray.

Fingers curl against the railing, nails trying to dig into the stone and threatening to snap. Her people look to her for guidance: both a priestess and a queen. But now…? She feels utterly unprepared to lead them. Protect them. Without the perilous balance outside their borders...how can she keep war at bay?

Her head bows, heavy with every life depending on her. There has to be something she can do...something to stave off their slaughter.

...wait…

Like a beetle boring into wood, a thought worms its way into her mind. One that goes against centuries of tradition. At first, she flinches from it by reflex. And yet it lingers, tempting and luring.

...what if she were to tame one of the warhounds? Offer it what it wants...and in return, turn its teeth against the others? Marry a warlord...and position his army at their gates?

Never has her line tied itself to another. Never have they broken the careful neutrality maintained to ensure equality for the others in the eyes of the gods. If she does this...if she shows a bias to one land over the others...will it be enough to save them?

Or will it bring only ruin?

...what choice does she have?

To give another influence over her lands...is that the price she’s willing to pay to protect it? Are shackles preferable to gravestones?

In silence she weighs her odds...before turning to retreat inside.

She has letters to pen.

"My king!”

Gloved palms braced against the table that bears his maps, Madara turns at the voice of a messenger. “This best be important.”

“A message, my liege.”

“...from?”

“The priestess of the mountain valley.”

Immediately, dark brows furrow. What could she want with him? An expectant hand raises to accept the parchment, unfurling it and proceeding to read.

The further he goes, the more his face slackens.

Around him, everyone stills, awaiting his reaction.

“...prepare my horse.”

“Sire…?”

“I have a meeting to attend. Izuna!”

Stepping up beside his brother, the younger man replies, “Shall I hold the fort?”

“Yes. Await my orders. Until then...consider us at ease. But be ready at a moment’s notice.”

“Of course.” He eyes his brother thoughtfully. “...that must have been some letter.”

As he straps on his armor, a mischievous smirk curls Madara’s lips. “I may have just been handed victory on a silver platter.”

Izuna’s brows lift. “...that simply?”

“Oh, there will be obstacles. But none I cannot handle. Especially if it means avoiding this war altogether.”

“You? Eager to avoid bloodshed?”

“...as much as I enjoy the fire in my veins at a proper battle...I’m not so easily consumed as not to realize it costs the lives of my men. Besides...victory is what tastes sweetest. And one I can take single handedly will be ambrosia itself.”

“...then I wish you luck.”

“Luck will have nothing to do with it, brother. It’s all a matter of will.”

Watching Madara leave the chamber, Izuna folds his arms with a sigh. Curiosity burns at the letter’s contents, but he knows he’ll be made aware in due time. A meeting, and skipping a war…?

...that alone gives him some idea.

“...spread the word that our armies are to remain on alert. Until the king returns or sends word, we remain here at the ready.”

“Aye!”

Astride his Friesian, Madara wastes no time, digging heels to the beast’s sides and heading inland. Nor does he bother himself with escorts. They’ll only slow him down, and he wants to be prompt. The sooner he arrives, the sooner he’ll settle this matter himself.

So, the queen’s decided to take things into her own hands, has she? Allay war by holding a council that will serve in its stead. Let the kings, queens, and generals do the fighting themselves for once rather than hide behind their armies. Let one emerge a victor, claim the spoils...and put to rest this silly balancing act.

And Madara knows, in a contest of will and limits, none will stand in his way. The only thorn he can foresee is that bastard Tobirama now that Hashirama is gone. But he’ll handle that too when he must.

To lay claim to the holy lands of their continent will be to grip every heart that follows the gods. In his goals to make all equal and loyal to one ideal...such a position is paramount. No more wars. No more squabbling. He’ll make sure the lines drawn between men will finally fade into one unity.

No matter how far he must go.

Like any gods-fearing man, he’s made the pilgrimage himself more than once. The way is already familiar. But there’s still a moment taken upon cresting the lip of the valley to appreciate its majesty.

...it really is a beautiful place. No wonder the gods call it their cradle. In all his travels, he’s never seen a place more fitting for them to consider setting foot upon the soil. The thought of bringing war here is indeed distasteful.

No wonder she’s willing to bow her head to protect it.

Easily marked an outsider, he ignores the stares as he makes his way up to the castle. He understands and respects their suspicions. Besides, it won’t be long before he can put to rest their fears and earn their admiration. If he’s to be the first king of this reclusive land, he’ll do it the right way.

Presenting his letter, he allows his mount to be stabled as he’s led inside. The palace carved from the white stone of the cliff face has always impressed him, looking birthed from the mountain itself. With the forested lip crowning it and the waterfalls that curtain its face, it looks much like a fairy queen’s domain.

Speaking of which...he’s never individually spoken to the priestess queen of the valley. She who both rules and shepherds. Her sermons have always been impassioned, and he won’t deny her ethereal beauty: the ghostly-white countenance that’s said to be a mark of the gods’ blessings to her lineage. But until now, he’s had no reason to approach her directly. Almost like an idol herself, kept behind a wall no outsider could pass.

...but that’s all set to change.

To his annoyance, several of the other monarchs have already arrived. Though it can’t be helped, given proximities. The land of his people lies mostly along a coast compared to the valley at the heart of their landmass, pushed to the edges over time. They all give him the same sour, upturned-nose glances, clearly displeased at the presence of the warlord.

His reputation is no secret: willing to carve through anything to get what he wants. Spilling blood like others pour wine. Claimed to be a monster masquerading as human, more likely to kill a man than embrace him.

While his bloodlust is indeed true, born from a line used to fending for itself...he still remembers the talks of old with another princeling. Another soul that, in truth, wished for peace. While their methods were always different...Madara did - and still does - desire a stop to be brought to wars.

He’s just more willing to be...absolute.

But this might be just the break he’s looking for. A new angle to bring all men into line. Surely between the lady of faith and the lord of power, there will be little standing in their way of finally putting the marches of wars to rest.

...but first, he’ll have to take care of the competition.

“And here I thought this was to be a peace council. Yet here prowls the dog of war.”

Dark eyes sliding to their corners, Madara aloofly considers one of the other land’s queens: a woman of flaming hair and even more flaming temper. “Dog or not, I was beckoned just as you were. Any other judgments, I’m sure, will be made by our hostess. Until then, I’ve little need or want of yours.”

Arms tucked into voluminous sleeves, Mei considers him with equal parts disdain and intrigue. “And are the rest of us supposed to accept your presence without hesitation, pretending you’ve not wounded us in the past?”

“Any I’ve wounded have done so to me in turn. Perhaps not as successfully,” he adds with a smirk, earning a glower, “but don’t paint yourselves as guiltless martyrs. Any who spill blood are equally guilty. Lost life is lost life, no matter what banner or slogan you hide behind. I protect my people as you do yours.”

“And yet none will deny your barbarity. Not even you.”

“I’ll not bother to call a rose by any other name in an attempt to hide its thorns. But my brutality is necessary. Nothing more or less. It is only with teeth I can bite back choking fingers.”

“They’d not choke if you didn’t bite first.”

Immediately, a flare of temper seems to climb Madara’s spine like a flame along a trail of tinder. But he doesn’t reveal his hatred, only turning to Tobirama with a mock air of surprise. “I think by now there’s little point in which came first...only that it continues. And must end.”

“A continuation in which you are just as guilty,” the Senju retorts without pause.

“Well, perhaps a second opinion is just what we need, then. Let the true neutral decide what will become of us warmongering heathens. Don’t act as if you’ve never wielded a blade out of spite, Tobirama. In the eyes of the gods, we are all guilty.”

“And yet, some more than others. I look forward to them striking you down at last.”

“...we’ll see about that.”

“Your majesties…?”

At the timid cut-in, the regals turn to an attendant who wastes no time in bowing under their gazes. “The last of the expected parties have arrived, and...her holiness will see you now. Please, follow me.”

After no small number of distrustful glances, the gathered royals follow in the young woman’s wake. While the display of weakness irks Madara slightly, he also can’t blame her. Surely there’s been no assembly like this in their land before, nor for such a purpose. Being exposed to so much power at once must be quite the shock for any below their rank. Anyone in her shoes would be hard-pressed not to panic.

But in this land, all who serve their lady are absolute. Fear is nothing in the face of their devotion. While the priestess queen may serve the gods, it’s the people who in turn serve her. Long have rumors circulated of the valley people being so blindly loyal as to throw themselves on pikes for their monarch. She is the vessel through which the gods speak. To allow her to come to harm is to commit the ultimate blasphemy.

Already, he thinks of how this will be useful.

A short walk later, the lot of them are led into an expansive sitting room. “Her ladyship wishes for you all to remain here, and to attend an audience with her individually. Her impressions are to be unbiased by the others and their opinions, so...while any of you are within her chamber, the rest are kindly asked to wait patiently here.”

“Is this simply to be a contest of our most tactical liars, then?” Tobirama dares to ask, teeth gritting. “Are we not allowed to vet one another?”

“Within each of you is inherent bias depending on friends or foes,” the little servant in turn refutes, and Madara can’t help a lift of his brow as she stares the king down. “Her ladyship, in line with our lands, wishes to remain neutral. The gods will guide her. Mortal opinions can never be pure.”

The Senju’s lip lifts in a snarl, but before he can refute, Mei steps in. “Please tell your ladyship we will be patient and obliging. We all wish to avoid war. If this is what it takes, so be it. The rest of us won’t let temper lead us astray.”

For that, she’s given a venomous look...but other leaders murmur in agreement, and Tobirama begrudgingly concedes.

Wordlessly, the woman nods, and turns into another room.

“...best make yourselves comfortable,” Mei then sniffs, finding herself a perch as others do the same.

Always pleased to see the Senju put in his place, Madara offers a hint of an appreciative smirk in her direction, lounging in a plush chair tucked in a corner. An elbow rests on its arm, chin braced along his knuckles.

A few minutes later, one of the monarchs is asked inside.

And so it begins.

“Have you need of anything, my lady?”

Pouring herself a goblet of water, Ryū gives the attendant a glance, and then a smile. “For now, no - thank you, dear. Twice over for bringing the others here. I trust they were obliging…?”

The tick of hesitation is telling. “M...mostly, my lady.”

“Tell me no more. We’ll see how their conduct fares. You may go.”

“Yes, my lady.”

Left to her own devices for a moment, the priestess draws a long, calming breath. Time to see if her plan will bear fruit...and not the sort to poison the starving masses. Another handmaid tends to the door, calling in each of the other monarchs to stand their trials.

Her interviews are simple, yet extensive. All manner of aspects of their rule - their platoons, their policies, their positions and their people - are peered into with the highest scrutiny. And all throughout, Ryū places her trust in a sense that has never failed her. One she remains convinced comes from the insight of the gods.

Never has she been lied to and the falsehood gone unnoticed.

It’s a feeling that follows her always. And with varying intensity, it reveals to her just who is willing to be truthful...and who thinks it wise to lie to the mouthpiece of the gods. None of the remarks are challenged until each conversation is over, the priestess calmly laying out her accusations. All rebuke and fluster and give flashes of temper, but she cannot be convinced otherwise.

As each monarch reemerges with varying degrees of disgruntlement, the rest clearly become wary.

And she saves the best for last.

“King Madara, of the Uchiha.”

Realizing his position and having done his best to remain patient, the Uchiha takes to his feet and makes his way toward the side chamber. He’d suspected he’d be reserved for the tail end given his reputation, but it was worth seeing Tobirama come out with a clenched jaw and scarlet neck of temper.

Well worth it.

Approaching the door, he gives yet another mousey serf a glance. Does she employ no one but nervous handmaids? Putting the thought aside (it’s hardly of any use), he steps inside and gives the room a curious once-over.

It’s a simple study, lined with shelves of scrolls and tomes. At the rear is a stained glass window, out which he can see one of the falls. Behind a desk of solid wood sits his hostess, and another moment is taken to observe her.

Her dress, unlike that worn for her sermons, is simple: plain white fabric with light hints of gold embroidery. Prim and modest, she looks far more the role of a priestess than a queen. Likely intentional.

“Would you care for some water?”

“...I would,” he replies shortly, accepting a goblet she pours him. Once quenched, he offers, “I must admit, it’s been too long since I’ve visited the valley. I hope that bears no weight on my qualifications?”

“Your lands are far, and your people often troubled. I cannot fault you for remaining where you are needed most by those that follow you. Though they may reside here, the gods can hear us no matter how distant our call.”

“Hm…” He considers her thoughtfully. “...may I also be frank in my surprise at this...decision. But in the same breath, I’ll put forth I think it wise.”

A hint of surprise lifts her brows. “...do you?”

“Relying on the wills of others for your safety puts your fate in their hands. While the other nations were willing, for a time, to be considerate of you...it seems the time has come where they put their own interests over the gods.”

“...do you do the same?”

“I concern myself foremost with my people. Whatever I can do for them to better their lives, I will do. No questions asked. I am their sword, and their shield. For them I will weather any storm, and I will cut down any threat.” His chin declines. “...I know this land’s distaste for violence. But I won’t attempt to hide what I have done. The gods may choose to smite me for it, but I will not stand idle and allow my people to come to harm rather than take any measure to protect them. Until I come to my judgment day, it is my people I answer to. Not gods.”

To his honest surprise, her lips curl into a coy smile. “...I commend you for your honesty and your dedication,” she murmurs. “Many have attempted to conceal their actions, seeking to tilt my favor. But there’s no hiding truth from the gods.” A knee lifts to crest the other, the long skirt of her gown rustling quietly. “Do you recognize the weight of the lives you take to protect another?”

“Of course. Any other man breathes and dreams as those under my banner do. Any life lost - no matter what side of a line - is one that should be mourned. If I could snap my fingers and draw all under one crest so that such lines could not be crossed, no reason given to kill what could in fact be a brother because of one loyalty over another, then I would do so. But until then...I protect what is entrusted to me. Nothing more, nothing less.”

“And if those within the valley were to be taken under that banner?”

“Then they would receive every ounce of my dedication as those born beneath it. An alliance is a promise. And I keep my promises. So long as I drew breath, it would be drawn for them all.”

A long moment passes of her silent consideration before continuing with her interview. Further and further she needles him, digging into the psychology and methodology of his leadership. And at each inquiry, he answers honestly, bearing all and refusing to feel shame for it.

Not once does she feel him lie.

By now, the day has begun to slip into evening, and a small respite is taken to light the sconces in the study. “We’re nearly finished. A supper is being prepared for you all.”

“How long are we expected to remain? I have a standing army to return to.”

“A few days at best, if my expectations are met. While my impressions are mostly made and there’s likely little else to glean...I am not one to rush important decisions. But so too do I respect the time and obligations of you and the others. I beg your patience.”

“And you’ll have it. I’m simply curious. My brother maintains the ranks in my stead, and I trust his judgment.”

“I didn’t know you had a brother.”

“...I once had four,” Madara eventually replies after a small pause. “But life is brutal, and war the paramount. Now...we are the two left of five. He is my right hand. I rely on him heavily.”

“I see…” Ryū lets her chin rest in a hand. “I’m without siblings. My father is unknown to me, my mother long dead. While I consider every person within my lands to be my family, my flock...I realize it is not the same. I envy you, in a way.”

“I’m sure he would be delighted to have a sister.”

The rather obvious nudge snaps her eyes to him, expression unreadable. “...I have one last question for you.”

“And I will do my best to answer.”

Silvers stare at him, unblinking. “...my intentions, I’m sure, are plain. To resist destruction by a flood of new war, I intend to ally myself with one of the other nations. That alliance will grant me an army, and hopefully give pause to the others before they consider bringing battles here. However...I know that, beyond my lands, the webs of friends and foes are complicated, and ever-changing. Depending on my choice, prior brothers in arms may be forced to become enemies. So my question is this: have you any reason - any at all - to possibly falter should this position become yours? Would you ever hesitate in raising your swords and your shields to defend this valley, and the people in it?”

“No.”

The blunt reply earns a blink, especially as no hint of a lie bleeds through his tone. “...just that easily?”

“Just that easily.” Shifting his posture, Madara leans inward, expression completely unwavering. “My people have been betrayed more times than I could count. We’ve not held an alliance since I was a boy...perhaps even longer. For generations we have been marked as nothing more than war-hungry dogs. And while we will never back down from a fight...it is not what we want. We fight for one reason only: necessity. Survival. The world has turned its back on us, declared us untrustworthy and forever drunk on blood. So perhaps that is something you should consider, priestess.”

Watching him warily, Ryū nonetheless holds her ground as he approaches, shrinking the gap between them to a breath.

“...is this what you want to anchor in your harbor? A man called a monster, a killer? Someone willing to go to any length, no matter what ire it will earn him?”

“...that’s precisely what I want.”

...it’s his turn to be taken aback.

She stares up at him, just as calm. “...I am all out of options, Madara,” she murmurs, dropping all other pretense. “My people face annihilation. We are sheep circled on all sides by wolves. Which is why I don’t want just a wolf. I want someone with nothing to lose. Because that is exactly what I have become. I want someone who, when the inevitable comes, will fight with no holds barred. Someone the other wolves fear. Because that fear will be what keeps us safe until the swords swing.”

Eyes flickering over her face, he lingers a long moment before conceding back to his seat. “...I see. Surely you already knew, then, what you were really looking for. These interviews weren’t to find who you wanted...but to gauge the standings of what will be left.”

She gives a grave nod. “To know who will be possible allies, who can be swayed...and who will see my declaration as one of war.”

“I’ve already a fair idea of those,” he assures her.

“I did not...but now I do. Which leaves only one last formality.” Reclining in her seat, Ryū crosses a knee, hands folding atop her lap. “...will you accept my proposal of an arranged marriage, Madara of the Uchiha? And with it, accept the position of army general, and the duty of protecting my people, my lands, and the cradle of the gods?”

“Is ‘king’ not one of my titles?”

“You are the king of your people. I am the queen of mine. I am unsure how either will view the other. And we have never had a king before.” Her lips flicker into a smile. “...both sides will surely need to do their own...adjusting. You will have every right and privilege that comes with a marriage to my line. Just, I’m sure, as I will inherit those of one to yours.”

...she’s avoiding the answer directly, he muses, considering her carefully. She doesn’t want foreign influence over her people...I can understand. Especially given the vast cultural differences. Surely such details will be determinable later. For now...best we settle the basics. I can whittle at the rest as we go. Leaning back with a sigh, he replies, “...then yes. I accept.”

“...good. We can discuss the rest tomorrow. For now...we have a dinner to attend.”

“Nothing works up an appetite like politics.”

     All righty, day three! And I'm officially out of buffered posts :'D BUT I'm determined to do more, so hopefully I'll have some time between now and...tomorrow to get something else done.      But for now, THIS post! So this is for Phoenix, the mun behind @uchiha-madara​, and is our ship between her Madara and my OC Ryū. We've had a verse with her in the founders era and a concept...somewhat similar to this? But this setting is a bit different, and with far different context, so...hopefully it was still interesting to read xD I haven't gotten to write this verse much yet so a lot of it was experimental. But overall I really like how it turned out, and hopefully Phoenix does too!      I love the dynamic between these two...there's almost always drama and tension and hhhhh I live for it xD      Anyway, I've got irl things to handle now, so I best skedaddle. But I'll do my best to be back tomorrow with another piece for another ship! Until then, thanks for reading!

[tearlessrain]

time to subject myself to Dracula: The Dark Prince, aka another bad movie starring another dude from black sails. this time with 100% less horny on main because my only real motivation for watching it is it truly looks to be a whole new caliber of horrible and I have to see it.

witness my standards for incomprehensibly bad movies being raised prohibitively high in every way imaginable under the cut

I seriously doubt that.

this was made in 2013 by the way, not 1994 as the graphic design of that logo might suggest

oh good, once again we’re opening with an exposition narrator. except this time it’s a woman and she has less vocal inflection and emotional investment than an amazon echo.

I feel like she’s gonna tell me to turn left in 800ft

it feels like a dragon age epilogue, but just. worse.

WE ARE WATCHING A TRULY HIGH QUALITY MOVIE TONIGHT MY FRIENDS

I can’t even describe how bad this is, you really need the sound. that’s where the true lack of quality shines through. siri’s depressed sister is talking about pre-vampire dracula’s epic feats in battle to more weird sepia dioramas and the dying soldiers sound like they hired muppets to voice them

HOLY WIG BATMAN

also this dude is obnoxiously jovial considering he’s supposed to be dracula, even if this is pre-vampire

oh no dracula’s advisors, who all wear black hooded robes and scowl ominously, have betrayed him and killed his wife, how unexpected

someone drew these, looked at them, and thought “yeah that’s good enough to go in the final movie”

the characters are speaking both english and what I assume is... romanian or something? transylvanian? it’s not spanish or welsh I can tell you that much. anyway there are no subtitles and also no rhyme or reason to which they’re speaking at any given time so I hope I’m not missing anything important. probably not.

so like... they killed his wife, yes. and he went on a murderfest in what appears to be a church in revenge, makes sense. now a dude who... I think maybe he’s supposed to be a priest or something? but he wasn’t speaking english so I can’t be sure, then a voice over said “I have killed for god, the hand that fought for him will now be turned against him” but I’m unclear on who was speaking. this movie is an absolute clusterfuck and we aren’t even five minutes in yet. this is still the prologue.

now zombie alexa claims dracula was cursed with immortality “in punishment for his defiance” but I’m still not sure... what defiance. he killed the dudes who murdered his wife and that’s somehow not okay despite his apparent status as a war hero, a designation that implies a LOT of killing has already happened?

fucking finally, the title screen. usually a prologue clarifies what a movie is about but I went in thinking I knew and now have absolutely no idea what I’m watching.

a carriage drawn by friesians is rolling through a misty forest with wolf howling sound bites playing at random in the background to vaguely urgent music, now this is what I’m here to see.

nevermind the carriage is too slow so they’re leaving it because that’s a thing people do (?????)

“Lady Arwen, we cannot delay”

seriously though everyone’s mumbling so much I can’t understand them much better than when they were speaking whatever the other language was

BOOTLEG XENA RIDES AGAIN

but this time she’s accompanied by esme. we don’t know who esme is yet either.

there she goes

and now the knights are being attacked by hilarious squeaky goblin things? who I guess are led by this power rangers villain with, again, an unintentionally hilarious voice. it’s like a bad batman impression.

with every minute that passes I become less certain of what I’m actually watching.

they’re looking for the “light bringer” and telepathically overseen by the world’s most halfassed lestat dracula

they’ve also got some random prisoners in a cage wagon

okay the prisoners are being taken to dracula’s castle and I’m sorry for such an image-heavy post but I NEED you to understand the community theater level of set design/quality we’re dealing with here

“what is that?” cardboard and mod podge is my guess

so far the only thing esme has done is fall off her horse and be knocked unconscious, and now a Roving Band of Misogynists has appeared to harass Bootleg Xena 3.0 in the most generic way possible (the words “what ‘ave we got ‘ere” accompanied by a chorus of malicious cackling and some whistles have been spoken)

oooh no the ringleader of the Roving Misogynists has been given a name, and it’s ~Lucien~. I have a horrible feeling that I’m about to bear witness to the worst romantic subplot in the history of cinema.

oh for... I thought at least bootleg xena 3.0 would be a Strong Female Character and fight them off, but she just rapped lucien on the head with her sword and then they stole her very important box and left as obnoxiously as they came

OH NO SHE’S ASKING TO GO WITH THEM, SOMEHOW THAT’S HER PLAN I THINK I’M RIGHT SHE’S GONNA HOOK UP WITH LUCIEN AND IT’S GOING TO BE HORRIBLE.

“trust me” she says to esme, who, wisely, obviously does not.

I appreciate the timely thunderclap every single time the castle comes on screen

who the fuck are you, did you wander onto the wrong movie set

nope okay they’re not gonna explain that shot at all we’re just moving on to a shot of a weird angel shadow doing slow flamenco moves on the ceiling while ominously gurgling, and the prisoners being led into the throne room

“what’s happening to us?” I WOULD LIKE TO KNOW THE SAME THING, PRISONER #3

oh never mind that guy from before wasn’t a priest, he is remfield, chancellor of this kingdom, which means the last scene he was in makes even less sense

AKSLDGHJFGAKDLFJGHKAJGHFDKLFDS;GJokay so. remfield introduced himself then said “I will see that your needs are tended to.” then dracula in his new white contacts gets up from his shadowy throne, circumnavigates the cluster of prisoners, sniffs them dramatically, and walks back to his throne. remfield then says, “come, I will see that your needs are tended to” because proofreading is for COWARDS

now remfield is... literally giving the prisoners a tour of the castle and going on the “oh you’re our guests and many pleasures and adventures await you” speech and somehow the prisoners are accepting this despite the fact that they were just carted in on a barred wagon in shackles and got sniffed by a bad alucard cosplayer. they have a fucking harpist.

seriously, who the fuck are you

she’s just been twirling around in the background of this entire scene for no discernible reason no matter what rooms they go into

what the hell am I watching

yeah they’re just going for that incredibly suspicious food and also seem weirdly okay with the ambient clusters of scantily clad lesbians no one will explain okay they deserve whatever happens to them

WHOA TITS apparently this movie is a different rating than I thought

remfield: the newcomers have settled in

dracula: I  d o n ‘ t  l i k e  s t r a n g e r s

then why pray tell have you brought them directly into your home in chains. I cannot stress enough how avoidable this situation was for you my dude

“just think sire, once the light bringer is in your possession no one need die again” “except those who defy me” [ominous chime as the angel shadow on the ceiling continues its sensuous flamenco dance]

meanwhile in the misty blue filter forest of eternal night, some guy in a tricorn finds a gold amulet that I think bootleg xena 3.0 dropped, and the power ranger villain rides menacingly in a random direction for a few seconds

I’m still waiting on whether this masterful display of cinematic calvinball has any cohesive story to it.

ah joy and we’re back to The Non-Adventures of Xena 3.0, Esme, and the Roving Misogynists

as an aside, I’m not calling her that just to be dumb, I’m calling her that because they still haven’t given her a name even though her sidekick got one in the first five minutes

they’ve opened the box and revealed... the light bringer, which is a wooden staff. because it is not shiny gold, the roving misogynists regard it with confounded disgrunglement and scoff at xena 3.0′s insistence that it can defeat dracula

these guys sound like what an eleven year old thinks gangs of ne’er-do-wells sound like. like cartoon weasels, if the weasels were also mediocre pirates who have heard of women, conceptually, but never seen one. like goblins in a pre-written D&D campaign run by a slightly overwhelmed first time DM.

HUR DUR WALKING STICK NOT TREASURE, WOMAN DUMB

it’s what cain used to slay abel, apparently. given that zombie alexa mentioned that dracula is the descendent of abel, this leaves us with the terrifying implication that someone did put at least some vestige of effort into writing this movie.

oh good she’s finally gonna fight lucien

no she failed again. please someone just punch the shit out of lucien so he’ll stop.

NO WHY ARE YOU MAKING OUT STOP IT GOD HAVE SOME STANDARDS WOMAN. STOP PLAYING FLOATY ROMANTIC MUSIC IN THE BACKGROUND THEY ARE LITERALLY STILL STANDING IN THE MIDDLE OF THE ENTIRE BAND OF ROVING MISOGYNISTS

I thought it might at least be a trick but no she is actually, genuinely starstruck over this profoundly mediocre olde-timey frat boy who called her “sweetheart” while she was trying to explain to him why the ancient dracula-defeating relic was important.

this guy.

we did it boys, we found a worse love story than twilight

also I just. I wish I could convey with words the way the roving misogynists react to every single thing lucien and sometimes xena 3.0 says like the world’s worst greek chorus in a literally neverending stream

lucien (post makeout and xena 3.0 explaining again that the relic is ancient and powerful and they’ve searched for ages to find it): well we may not be knights but we can respect that

[cacophony of rowdy but understated agreement]

lucien: what do you think boys, should we give it back?

[assorted grumbles of assent]

xena 3.0: hm, a thief with a conscience

[gruff mercenary-esque chuckling]

lucien: maybe even a heart

[chorus of “ooooooOOOooh”s and some whistles]

it just goes on like that in every scene they happen to be physically adjacent to, they never shut up but also never actually contribute or say anything meaningful

ah, the mysterious leonardo has appeared. I think he was the one they were trying to take the light bringer to so that’s handy

“what is happening here? what is this flirtation?? is this the people to share your sacred secrets with???” - leonardo, the only remotely rational person in the entire movie

oh he is schooling these idiots, finally someone with sense. it’s bouncing right off of lucien, but at least he’s saying it.

“the scourge” - leonardo

“scourge!” “scourge!?” “scourge?” “hrgghhg??” “hrrm...” - the roving misogynists

power ranger villain and his squeaking goblins vs leonardo, the most useless female leads of all time, and the roving misogynists. who will win.

not the people watching this movie, I can tell you that much.

oh no, the lightbringer isn’t working. this will do nothing to convince the roving misogynists that it isn’t a walking stick

oop, wilhelm scream

oh no lucien has picked up the light bringer

goddamn it he’s the chosen one isn’t he

yep he activated the stick and now we all have to suffer

oh xena 3.0′s coming for power ranger villain maybe she’ll actually do something

nope she bounced off him and now he’s grabbed her and hauled her onto his horse

“you’re coming with me” he says in his weird batman voice, to make sure the audience can tell that he is in fact taking her with him

and esme has yelled “no” to make sure we remember that she’s in the movie

wait what the. did lucien just yell “xena” is that her actual name what the fuck. what the fuck. I had to have misheard that. okay I can’t tell what he’s saying for sure but someone’s bound to say her name again at some point in the movie so I’ll revisit that.

and on that note, I think I’ll end here, because there ended up being a LOT more to unpack in this movie than I expected, it’s after midnight, and I’m tired.

tomorrow, we follow lucien as he presumably goes to save some lady he wildly disrespected and then made out with one time whose name may or may not actually be xena, and hopefully figure out what the hell is even going on with dracula, remfield, and their castle full of artfully strewn half naked harpist lesbians and dancing ceiling shadows. because right now I really don’t have time to unpack all that, and I have a feeling it will only get worse.

[blackivory-27]

Cowfolk Masterpost

・Cowfolk have been part of Reesembull's life for centuries, although no one really knows where they came from or how they came to be, but everyone believes the long-lived agricultural and pastoral nature of the town is linked to them. They arrived, they shared their knowledge with those they found, and their secrets and tricks managed to turn Reesembull into a flourishing rural town, well-known for its green pastures and delicious food.

・All cowfolk share similar characteristics and behaviours, especially when belonging to the same 'breed', of which there are three.

The Angus breed, which has the particular trait of lacking horns of any kind, and only having black patches on the skin: they are usually the ‘chubbiest’ cowfolk, and tend to be pretty stocky for their height - they're the best at handling animals and are exceptional vets, but this doesn't mean they aren't strong or smart. They are particularly welcoming of strangers, but don't be fooled - they're anything but naïve, and can turn pretty violent if someone they care about is threatened.

The Friesian breed, who has instead patches of various colours, and are extremely versatile - they have in their blood to be whatever they want to be, and in their body both the strength and physique to do it, be it doing heavyweight jobs or detailed works. They have horns, instead, usually short - but they can grow to be pretty long depending on the cowperson. They're the widest-spread kind and make up for a good percentage of Reesembull's cowfolk population.

The Chianina breed, the biggest and strongest one - they're the heaviest workers, and can carry, push, drag and move the most out of all breeds, but they're also slightly headstrong, in more ways than one. They tend to be a little rough and aggressive when bothered, but they’re very loyal if ‘handled’ the right way. They tend to have more muscle than fat, and many of them look a little intimidating at first. They're also the tallest breed, and bulls have the tendency to charge more than others.

・Cowfolk are extremely fond of their home and town, and it's very rare for the to venture further than the train station, hence why people outside only know of them if they read about them in books or encyclopedias or happen to pass by Reesembull: they’re generally wary of big cities, because it means lots of people, cars, and loud noises - all things they don't like at all. They thrive in the calm atmosphere of the countryside.

・Besides the obvious differences between cowfolk and humans, there are other subtler ones, both physically and culturally: they have their own traditions and tend to stick to them quite seriously, and they mostly regard family and dynamics between members of the community.

・Body-wise, aside from being much taller and bulkier, female cowfolk tend to produce more milk when pregnant and lactating to sustain their bigger newborn, and even the shorter ones are on par with human males: furthermore, they are extremely defensive of their children, and messing with a mother is much, much worse than messing with an angry bull. Incredibly worse.

・Male cowfolk are impressively strong, and some can even raise over a ton from the ground - although not for long: they tend to be open and gentler only with their family, as they don't trust other easily, but they also try their best not to be rude. They can come off as 'dumb', but it's more due to the fact that they don't care much about dilly-dallying around, and prefer to march always in the same direction, figuratively speaking.

・All unmarried cowfolk wear metal bracelets around their wrists to tell others of their own that they aren't engaged, and when they get married melt those to make a new bell for their firstborn: it's custom to exchange their own bells on the day of the wedding, during the ceremony, as it means making one another part of the respective family and entrusting both their past and their future to their spouse.

・Both male and female cowfolk participate in building a new house for them to live in, although over the course of the century many have started living in their parent's home instead - this way the grandparents can stay home with the children while the parents work, strengthening family bonds and the community itself.

・It's rare, very rare, for cowfolk to marry humans - and it's even rarer for them to have children: many are worried that they'll be born sick or deformed, so they spend their lives without trying, but sometimes there are successful attempts… sometimes.

・Most hybrid children have the same birth defect: they're born with udders where their testicles should be, and these udders resemble bladders more than breasts - the mammary glands surround the prostate and produce milk continuously, as prolactin levels aren't linked to pregnancy, which ends up filling this ‘bludders’ that then get emptied much like a normal bladder would, without any need for manual milking.

・Hybrids are almost always male.

・During pregnancy, a female cowperson can produce up to 5 litres of milk, as opposed to human women that can reach 1.5 litres - hybrids produce that amount everyday, instead, and most of it goes to waste as it's obviously not meant for child consumption.

・Cowfolk milk varies in taste depending on the breed, but it's generally ‘chocolaty’, creamy and smooth: pasteurizing it turns the taste normal, so it can actually be used to make dairy products - something mothers tend to do for their children as they stop drinking milk from the source and turn to solid food to ensure their full growth.

・Hybrids’ milk tastes more like hazelnut chocolate than pure chocolate, probably because of their human side.

・Cowfolk milk is absolutely not marketed, and they tend to be extremely jealous of it - it's meant for their babies, after all.

・All cowfolk have two stomachs - a main one to digest all kinds of food and an 'atavic', smaller one to digest anything plant-like, such as grass and salad and mushrooms, things that humans actually can't digest completely.

・People in Reesembull love cowfolk, and they can't imagine a life without them - there’s families that have known each other for generations. Two of them are the Rockbells and the Elrics.

[deputyash]

Gifts from the Heart

Pairing: John Seed x Dovie Ash

Word Count: 2,034

Warnings: None

Summary: It’s Dovie’s birthday and John wants to make her day the best ever!

A/N: I got a Request for Dovie and John!!! Yay! I was meaning to write about them more at some point. Haha. Thank you for requesting it, Anon! Also, I’m sorry it took awhile, for some reason I just could not come up with a good idea. (I wrote it over so many times, haha) Lastly, this story technically takes place in the future cause Dove’s birthday isn’t until September… haha XP

This one uses Prompt 35, “What a thing to say - and on my birthday!”

Hope ya’ll enjoy! :D

- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - “My dear, wrathful little Dove, I’m going to punish you for destroying yet another one of my silos.” John practically growls into the radio.

Dove snickers to herself and leans back against a tree, raising the speaker to her mouth. She lets out a quiet chuckle before pressing the button down.

“What a thing to say - and on my birthday too!” Dovie says, a smirk creeping its way to her mouth.

She crosses her arms as she waits for John’s response.

“Is it now, my dear? Well then, should I give you your birthday spankings now? How many will it be? 25? 26?”

Dovie’s eyes widen as well as her smirk. “27 actually.”

She bites her lip and smiles to herself.

“Sounds like I’m going to need to treat you first, my little Dovie. Where should I meet you?”

Dove takes a quick look around before replying, “Hmm...How about Lamb of God?”

“Perfect. I’ll be there in 10 minutes.”

Dove clips her radio back to her belt before picking up her bag. She tosses it over her shoulder and begins walking towards the church. If anyone knew what she was doing, they would call her crazy. But she knew her limits and she knew John’s. She and him had a...strange relationship to say the least. To everyone else, they were bitter enemies, but out of public view? They were actually pretty...compatible, in a strange...love-hate-love sort of way.

After several minutes, Dove crests a hill and sees the church just ahead. She sees John’s charcoal-colored truck sitting in the parking lot. 

Wow...that was fast.

Dovie takes a cautious look around. There didn’t seem to be anyone else around. Dove crosses the little dirt road and walks into the courtyard of the church. She takes a quick look in the truck. No one in there either. Looking good…

But just to be sure, instead of going through the main door of the church, Dovie goes to one of the side doors. She gently pushes it open. 

When nothing shoots her, she walks in slowly. She sees John standing in front of one of the tables. He was looking down at the contents that sat on it.

“Knock, knock. Anyone home?” Dove says as she slips off her backpack.

John stops what he was doing and turns around. A smile graces his lips and he reaches his arms out from beside him.

“Only me, my dear.”

Dove sets her bag down on one of the pews, “You sure got here fast.”

“I wouldn’t want to keep my little Dove waiting. It’s her special day after all.”

Dove rolls her eyes playfully and smirks. She sits down on the wooden bench beside her pack and leans back. John comes stalking towards her.

“So what do you have planned? There’s not exactly much to do around here.” She says, looking up at him.

John leans over Dove and places a hand under her chin. His smirk never leaves his face as he speaks.

“We can do whatever your heart desires. Of course, I may have a suggestion or two, if you’re interested.”

“I’m listening.” She replies, gazing up into those deep pools of dark cerulean.

“Do you like horses?”

A small smile spreads across Dovie’s face.

“I do, what do you have in mind that has to do with horses?”

“How does horseback riding through the valley sound?”

“Sounds exciting, but where are we going to get horses? I haven’t ever seen-”

John presses a finger to Dove’s lips, silencing her.

“You just leave that to me, my dear.”

John backs away and motions for her to follow.

“Let’s go. We have to drive to go get them.”

Dovie raises her brow at him, but gets up anyways. She grabs her bag and follows John out to his truck. She takes another precautionary glance around before walking out. John turns on the car as she gets in the passenger's side of the vehicle.

John drives them out to this huge barn. It was a marengo gray and white building with a large painting of their cult symbol across the side. Definitely John’s property.

They get out and John leads Dove to the doors. He pushes one of the rolling doors open and goes inside. John switches on the lights, revealing the interior. It was gorgeous inside. Fancy lights ran across the ceiling as well as skylights that were letting in lots of natural sunlight.

There was a wall dedicated to horse tack and equipment. There were so many different styles of saddles and bridles. It was breathtaking to look at. 

Dovie pulls her eyes away from the aesthetic of the barn when she hears a loud whinny. She looks over and sees John leading a dark chestnut mare out from one of the stalls. John grins proudly as he hands Dove the lead. She smiles as she gazes at the magnificent creature.

“Her name is Hazel.” John says as he walks back over to another stall.

“She’s so beautiful.” Dove says as she caresses the mare’s neck.

“Look at this handsome boy.” John says as he brings out a pitch black horse from the far enclosure.

“His name is Oath.” He adds as he guides the tall Friesian towards Dove and Hazel.

“He’s very handsome indeed.” Dove smirks, “And so is the horse.”

She watches as John eyes light up and look at her. She sends him a wink and goes back to gushing over the beautiful creatures in front of her. She walks in front of Oath and brushes her fingers through his mane. It was long and wavy. And so incredibly soft.

“This is so cool.” She looks back over at John, “Thank you so much for this.”

John gives her a genuine smile.

“I’m glad it pleases you.” He says.

John feels his chest constrict with joy as he sees her smile back at him. He likes seeing that smile on her face. It made him proud. It made him happy.

“Ready to take a ride?” He asks.

“Yes! Of course I’m ready!”

“That’s what I like to hear.” He replies.

John gets the horses ready. He gets them all saddled up and ready to go. Then he helps Dove up onto Hazel before climbing up onto his own steed. John guides the two of them out of the barn and into the glorious daylight.

“I know a trail we can take. No one should be on it. And it leads to a lake.” John says as they begin riding down the dirt road that leads away from the barn.

“Okay, sounds like a plan to me.”

Dove follows behind John as they ride across the blacktop road and onto a small dirt hiking trail. She looks around as they go deeper into the forest. John slows his horse so that they’re riding side by side. Dove listens as little birds sing and fly around in the canopy above. She reaches down to pet Hazel gently. In return, she lets out a soft neigh.

“You’re such a good girl, aren’t you Hazel?”

John watch her as she talks to the horse.

“She really seems to like you.” He comments.

Dove looks up at him, “You think so?”

“Definitely.”

John watches as the smile on Dove’s face widens, “Well, I really like her too.”

She smooths her hand over Hazel once more. 

After a short pause, she looks back at John.

“Where did you learn to ride?” She asks.

He shrugs, “I always thought horses looked cool, so I took some riding lessons. What about you?”

“My mom taught me. She loved horses when she was younger and I guess some of that rubbed off on me.” She says, looking off at the trees.

John watches her for a moment. A sliver of guilt rises in his chest.

“Are...are your parents still alive?” He asks.

Dove doesn’t look at him, but she nods.

“Yeah. They’re still living in Texas. My brother is too.”

“Brother?”

Dove lets out a sad sigh, thinking about her family. 

“Yeah. My older brother, Matt. He’s working in Dallas.”

“What does he work as?”

Dove lets out a bittersweet laugh, “He’s a judge.”

John’s eyes widen in surprise.

“He’s a judge?”

Dovie looks over at him.

“Yep. Studied law and worked as a lawyer for a few years until he was eligible for a judgeship.”

“Your family seems to have an interest in law.”

“And yours seems to have an interest in breaking the law.” Dove says, smirking up at John.

She lets out a laugh as she sees the look on his face, “I’m joking. Well, kind of…”

She glances ahead at the trail before looking back at John, “Why are you asking about my family anyways?”

“Well, Miss Dovie, before you insulted me and my family, I was going to offer you a phone call.”

“You canーyou would let me do that?”

“It’s your birthday after all.”

John watches as Dove’s eyes light up.

“I would hug you if I wasn’t on a horse right now. Thank you, thank you so much John.”

There was that smile again. The one that made his soul soar. He wanted to reach his hand out for her to take and to hold.

“I’m glad you like your gifts. I’m sorry I couldn’t do more.”

“Do more? Are you kidding? This is the best birthday gift I could’ve gotten.”

John could only smile at the praise.

After a few more minutes of riding, they finally crest the last hill and on the other side was a beautiful shimmering lake. It was a decent size, larger than a pond, but smaller than Silver Lake. It had assorted lily pads growing on the outskirts of the water and cattail reeds along the bank. Little frogs hop into the water as the two horses pass near them.

John points to a little dock under a large oak tree.

“We can tie the horses up there.”

Dove nods and follows him.

John gets down and ties the lead to one of the posts as Dovie does the same. She stretches her arms and legs out, letting out a soft groan.

“My legs are so sore.” She says as she walks out towards the lake.

“Perhaps I can assist with that later.” John says, coming up from behind her.

She looks back at him with a playful smile, “My, my, aren't you generous today.”

“Only for you.”

“Sure. I’m you sure you do this for all the ladies.”

John wraps an arm around Dove’s body and pulls her back against him. She hesitantly lays her own hand across his arm as it rests on her. She leans back into his chest.

“No. Only you, my dear.” He says close to her ear.

“What. You actually said no? Now that is a surprise.” Dove says, smirking.

John lets out a low chuckle, sending small rumbles through Dovie’s back.

“I guess you just have a way of changing me.” John mutters softly into her skin.

Dove looks out at the lake. The sun was beginning to dip down behind the mountains. This was a perfect way to end the day. 

“I hope you’ve enjoyed your day, Dovie.”

“I have.” Dove says, turning her head to look back at him.

John studies her face for a second before bringing his other hand up to her. He gently cups her cheek and smiles at her softly. She gazes back at him, completely enraptured by his deep blues. He leans forward quickly and presses his lips to hers. Her eyes instantly close and she kisses him back. She reaches her arm back and places it on the side of his head, keeping him close.

John gently bites her bottom lip before eventually pulling away. He gazes down at her once more.

“Are you going to come back to the ranch to make those phone calls?” John asks, still holding her close.

Dove nods, “Yes, I am.”

Then she smirks, “And if I do recall correctly, you said something about birthday spankings.”

A smile finds its way to John’s lips as well.

“Then it's settled. Let’s go, my dear little Dove.”

[discordant-daydreams]

valkyrie rosin: enter

i had done this for school about one of my ocs i have been trying to develop since 2013 but turns out i didn’t need to. I’m posting it here so it was worth it also because i am proud of it! please enjoy! 

I had been napping. It was a hot summer day, well it was spring but it felt more like summer, and I had nothing better to do. Napping was always interesting. Whenever i napped i had dreams, No not dreams, nightmares. They were always the same thing, my village was being destroyed. I always wake up panicking and honestly who wouldn't. I've talked to others about it and they always say that it's just my internal fear of becoming leader of our village but that feels wrong. I feel it is a warning like someone telling me something bad is going to happen. In the dream an evil shadowy man with glowing red eyes is destroying the village. At the end he always says i told you. Today was no different.

“Val! Wake up! We’re gonna have another race and you are still the winner!” i hear my older brothers voice. We are a race of shifters, a species that looks human but can transform into two other species, and i can become a horse or swan hence the name valkyrie. My brother a bear and a wolf. He hasn't gotten a name yet and he doesnt really want one. We are given normal names at birth, mine being rosin his being beamard but id rather valkyrie. So many people struggle on remembering how to say rosin that its just easier to go with valkyrie. I groan in annoyance and get up.

“You know I’m going to win if you allow the use of abilities, right? I can become a horse!”

“Yeah but eric is gonna join us today”beamard remarks with a smirk

“Oh no,” my brother laughs pats my shoulders and walks to the location

“So you have the same dream?” he says with genuine worry. I frown and nod. There's a silence for a while as we make our way towards the venue. My brother gives the normal rundown of rules. No inflicting pain on another, no cheating, yada yada yada. We start to take on our fastest forms and i notice hesitation on my brothers face.he glances towards me and forces a smile and mouths that he is fine. I raise an eyebrow and stay guarded.

Me and bee have been talking a lot about the history of our species and how it has been forgotten. We used to be able to shift into anything but we had to know the species very well and practice. We used to use it just to change our appearance slightly or prepare for battles and such but some wanted more. Our village got greedy and tried to learn any species possible so we could have the upper hand and the humans didn't like that. They never liked us because we are different but i get that. I understand how it feels. Some species scare me and my first reaction is to react unfavorably so i understand if they want to attack us. The humans asked us to agree to learning no more identities and we accepted it well reluctantly. My parents didn't like having their freedom taken away and neither did I when i learned.

My brother takes on the form of a wolf, Eric a falcon and me well i did something different. I tried a thoroughbred horse instead of a friesian. I probably would have been stopped had i not waited till the last minute. The cap gun goes off and we took off. I knew i was doing the wrong thing but man the adrenaline i was feeling was unreal. It was amazing. We all make it to the end but i zoomed to the finish line last minute and won. I was cheering having my own celebration but no one else was cheering.

“Ah c’mon guys don’t be sore losers it was only a-”

“Rosin how could you! You know that's forbidden! Are you trying to get us killed!” beamards shouts as he grabs my shoulders shaking me. The terror he is feeling was tangible and i looked up at him frowning.

“I-i thought it would be fine if it was just a different breed im sorry… im sorry! I don't want to get you killed! Im sorry!” as i begin to cry beamard softens and realizes he reacted harshly.

“Im sorry val i just worry i don't want anything to happen to you and honestly they wouldn't punish an entire village for an 8 year old’s curiosity.” somethign about the way he spoke felt fake and wrong but i just brushed it off and ignore it. we hug and our friends declare me the winner again. I convince them to all go out for ice cream by saying bee would treat them. He frowns and says fine and i laughs. Everything is nice and fun again and after ice cream w get home for dinner with our family. My parents seem oddly serious and beamard steps behind me. Dad nods at beamard and sighs.

“We know beamard you don't have to say anything i want you two to grab your dinners and go to the basement.” beamard nods and grabs our plates and heads off nudging me forward. I stand firm and glare at my father.

“No i will not! All day everyone has been acting.. Off? Weird? I cant describe it! Whatever it is im tired of it! Stop leaving me out!” beamard just quietly says please as i yell at my parents. Was it wrong of me to yell probably. Had i known what i know now would i have yelled? I wish i could say no but knowing myself the answer is still, probably. My father and mother kneel in front of me and frown grabbing my hands and say,

“Sweetie i know you want answers but please you have to trust us. We will be joining you two in the basement soon!” i frown, nod, and hug them and follow beamard to the basement. We eat our dinner in silence both too worried to speak. I suddenly remember my dream as it plays back in my head and i start crying as i realize.

“Beamard? The humans, they are trying to exterminate us aren't they?” he looks at me shocked but then nods and gestures for me to come over. I do and we huddle together hopeing for the best. “So my dream was correct… that really sucks.” i try so hard to keep my emotions under control but its hard. We hear screams outside and magic. we feel rumbling as homes are destroyed. The home we knew for years being reduced to ruble. The village i was to lead some day, no more. Everything we knew was being ripped from our grasp just because humans don't understand. Beamard looks down at me frowning.

“Rosie please don't hate the human. Please promise me you will stay open minded with them. Not all of them are terrible. Not all of them intend to destroy those they are confused about. Please keep your kind loving heart and promise me if anything were to happen to me that you wont change. That you wont let the hatred consume you. Please remember that i love you-” the door blasts open and a short winged humanoid comes in. they are wearing a cloak so we are unable to see what they look like but they are pale almost pinkish in hue. The vibes they give off are feelings of unsatiable blood lust and a hunger for violence. They send chills up my spine and i have the urge to run away. My brother grabs me and runs to the farthest corner of the room where he left his sword. I hiss through my teeth. Why didnt he have his sword on him? I draw my sword and approach “rosin no!” beamard jumps in front of my his sword clattering to the ground. There is a bright indigo light and it goes through my brother and reaches me. I an feel a searing pain from my left shoulder down to my hip and i wince, gritting my teeth. As i look forward to check on my brother all i can see is a pile of glittering crystals where my brother once was. I lose my composure for a moment and weep, collapsing where i stand, nd then regain it tearing off the crystals forming where the wound is.

“You arent a normal 8 year old are you? Youve prepared for this.” the person says with an unsusual voice. Its higher and friendly. One you would here and think of an innocent childlike individual. “A normal 8 year old would have been too afraid of the danger let alone the threat of death. They did warn me that you are an intelligent individual but i thought that meant for an 8 year old.”

“Yeah well you don't know our species then.” i get up draw my sword careful to make sure they arent looking and charge at them driving my sword through their middle and then using a match to light their wings. I didnt expect it to do much but they panicked and managed to break their wing. I oull my sword out and run away. As i am running i see the village i once knew. It was on fire. The cause? A grey dragon whose face was the angriest ive seen. The dragon made eye contact with me and it seemed to be appologizing. I run into the forest leaving a trail of blood. I find a cave and settle down when i hear a voice. The voice of a child about my age.

“Hi there my name is uh alex, we’ll go with that, um why are you in my cave?” i frown out of it.

“My village was just destroyed can you not see?” the child pauses and smirks. The smirk makes me go cold

“Oh yeah i forgot. I did warn you though.”

[mymountainnest-blog]

Nest Blessings

Happy Holidays From Our Nest to Yours!

This holiday season is full of tradition and symbolism. “Bird’s nests are symbols of home,” the website My Growing Traditions quotes German company Inge Glas. “They represent love, commitment, and the effort it takes to build a happy home.” Legend goes on to say that any home that finds a nest tucked in the branches of their Christmas tree will be blessed with prosperity in the coming year.

It has been a tradition in my family to decorate our tree with a special nest. It is rich with meaning for me, as it represents the best in us and the hope that keeps a home alive.

Foxhaven is evolving and everyday we are blessed to live in this mountain paradise we call home. Our ‘nesting’ has borne the fruit of creating a haven for us, our beloved animals and an oasis from the pace of urban life for family and friends. It is said that home is a collection of things a person loves, and that a home is a mirror of who we are. We pray our home shows our heart and that all who visit here leave blessed and encouraged.

We have added some lovely art that speaks to our connection with and commitment to nature. I fell in love with a piece done by an incredibly talented artist, Cathy Sheeter, at Art for the Sangres, a show to benefit the San Isabel Land Trust.  Bill knew I couldn’t take my eyes of the fox, Sly; he surprised me with the purchase! At a benefit for The Cloud Foundation, I was able to acquire an incredible photograph of Encore, Cloud’s daughter, by Kristen Collett, Arrowhead Wild Horse Photography.  I would encourage folks to look into the plight of our wild mustangs and their mismanagement by the BLM. The situation is critical and they need our voice.

We also added some wonderful alpaca rugs; I love bringing in natural elements whenever I can, to our home. What makes them so special is that they are from the wool fiber of a dear friend and her darling alpacas. The darker reddish color is from Cheyenne, the lighter red from Zoe (pictured below) and the cream colors from Indie and Spike. The rugs were woven by Texas Handwoven Creations. They did a lovely job and were easy to work with to create special sizes and color patterns.

Our big projects included landscaping the front, new decks in the back and Hardie Board siding on our house to match our barn colors. LOVE it. It is coming together inside and out!

The best part of creating a home is having friends and family come ‘nest’ for awhile. We had many visitors this summer. They enjoyed our animal friends and it is plain to see that the animals enjoyed them, as well. Everyone at Foxhaven is sweet and loves to have company.

We have feathered our nest with some new animal friends and companions. As you know, we added two English Khaki Campbells, Meghan and Kate, to our little flock of ducks this spring. All four are doing great and bring us smiles daily. However, our best and biggest new family member is our Friesian/Morgan colt, Theodoor’s RedFox Sable (Jaimie), from Sable Ranch. We had a magical summer with him, and his mother, Raz. We were blessed to keep her here until Jaimie was weaned. I feel in love with her sweet spirit; it was a gift to have her trust. Having her stay with us made for a seamless transition for Jaimie into our herd. It is a dream come true for us to raise up a colt from the ‘get go’.

Our New Year will be blessed as we get more involved in the community, nourish friendships, attend several horsemanship clinics, riding (& Bill in NATRC) and grow professionally. Bill fully enjoys managing his onshore and overseas application teams; I am so proud of him as I overhear conversations. He leads by example and his counseling skills make him a good listener and negotiator.  I hope to grow NEST, as we focus on managing vacation rental properties, and creating the feeling of ‘home’ for vacation stays in our lovely Wet Mountain Valley.

Finally, Foxhaven will be graced with both Rose (in the spring) and Hazel (in the summer) doing some nesting of their own. That means puppies!! Rose’s due date (yet to be confirmed by ultrasound in mid January) is Valentine’s Day. We hope to breed Hazel & Beau, pending a few genetic tests and OFA radiographs, this summer. See Blessing Wheatens website for updates; and soon Foxhaven Collies website.

Nesting is a rich and ongoing experience. We love our life in Westcliffe. Bill and I wish you a happy holiday & a new year of sweet nesting!