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z0mi3 · 23 days ago

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Like a Lamb to the Slaughter

Chapter One —The Offering

>-;;⁠;⁠;€ᐷ parings: Barbarian!tf141 x civilized reader

>-;;⁠;⁠;€ᐷ synopsis: On the day meant to mark your passage into womanhood, something feels wrong. The smiles are forced, the ceremony hollow, until you're taken beyond the village, hooded, and left in the hands of those once called monsters.

>-;;⁠;⁠;€ᐷ contents: Barbarian AU, price is the bear, ghost is the dark wolf, gaz is the white wolf, and soap is the leopard!, it'll make sense later, arranged offering/non-consensual trade, mentions of dehumanization and folklore-based fear, implied threats of violence, implied cannibalism, fear of cannibalism, reader is in her 20's, implied sexual violence (fear of rape; does not occur), emotional distress (panic, fear, dissociation)

Reader discretion is advised!

>-;;⁠;⁠;€ᐷ word count: 1k+ words

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You should’ve known something was wrong.

You had only seen your parents once that morning—briefly, distantly—before the others swept you off to get ready. Your mother barely looked at you. Your father said nothing at all. They wore stiff expressions, both avoiding your eyes, speaking to others instead of to you. You told yourself it was just nerves. Ceremony jitters. Tradition, maybe. But something about it… something about it felt off.

Today was supposed to be a celebration. Your celebration.

They were honoring you—finally recognizing you as a woman of the village. After years of preparation, you had completed the long-standing ritual required of all women to earn that title. Now, you were of marrying age. That’s what they said, at least.

The feast, the procession, the jewelry pressed into your skin, the way your hands were painted with ink and powder—it was all tradition. All supposed to mark a joyful transition.

But joy didn’t come. Not from your parents. Not from you.

Even as the village cheered, even as petals were thrown and horns were blown, you couldn’t shake the tight coil in your gut. Couldn’t ignore how your hands trembled when they fastened your ceremonial cloak around your shoulders. Couldn’t stop the way your throat dried up when they kissed your forehead, then stepped back.

Why weren’t they smiling?

Why weren’t you?

The parade began.

You were paraded through the village like a lamb fattened for slaughter—crowned with woven branches, led barefoot through the dirt. Cheers followed you. So did drums. Women danced, children ran, and men watched.

And then…

Then something changed.

The music didn’t stop. But the people around you did.

Hands closed around your arms. You turned, confused, lips parted to speak, but they were already moving you. Steering you toward the edge of the square, past the far fences. You looked back once—just once.

Your parents didn’t stop them.

They didn’t scream. Didn’t cry. Didn’t move.

You thought maybe it was part of the ritual. That it was symbolic. That perhaps you had to be led into the forest as part of becoming a woman.

But no one told you where you were going. No one answered your questions.

And then came the hood.

Rough cloth. Damp. Smelling of smoke and old leather. It was pulled over your head with practiced hands. Tight hands. You kicked, cried out, struggled until something hard cracked against your skull and the world went black.

⸻

You wake cold. Your bones ache. The world smells of damp earth and pine needles.

Your body is covered in furs you don’t recognize, resting on the floor of something that might be a tent—or maybe a cave. Light flickers behind your closed eyelids. A fire?

You open your eyes.

The ceiling above is made of thick animal hide, stitched together crudely. Bones line the seams. Your breath fogs in the air. You sit up slowly, teeth chattering.

Outside, voices murmur. Deep. Masculine. Sharp like flint.

You crawl toward the opening and peer out.

The forest surrounds you—tall, dark, endless. And scattered within it are shelters just like this one. Fires burn in pits. People move among them, cloaked in furs, metal glinting on their arms and chests.

Not your people.

Barbarians.

The ones your parents warned you about.

The ones they called less than men—the beasts who lived in the mountains, who raided villages, who wore wolves like armor and drank the blood of their enemies.

You scramble back, panic clawing its way up your throat. Your heart pounds so hard it echoes in your ears.

This wasn’t part of the ritual.

This wasn’t symbolic.

You weren’t being honored.

You’d been given.

You’d been offered.

Your parents gave you to them.

The same people they called savages. The same people they said weren’t even human.

You remember the way your mother’s voice dropped to a whisper whenever they were mentioned. How your father’s jaw would tighten when the name of their tribe was spoken aloud. Don’t say it where children can hear, he once warned, eyes darting to the corners of the room like something might be listening.

They spoke of these people like a myth. Like monsters.

Beasts in human skin who roamed the highlands, tasting human flesh like it was delicacy. Creatures who didn’t just want your body, but your soul—your emotions, your fear, your pain. They fed on it, lived in it, thirsted for it.

They were stories told by firelight, warnings woven into bedtime lullabies. Don’t stray from the path. Don’t follow the drums. Don’t answer the howling in the night.

And now, here you are.

Not stolen.

Traded.

Like meat.

Like nothing.

You can’t believe it.

You refuse to believe it.

No. There has to be something else—anything else. A mistake, a mix-up, some elaborate ritual your village kept secret until the final moment. Something twisted and old and symbolic.

But the truth keeps pressing in, heavy and suffocating.

You weren’t taken.

You were given.

Your thoughts race, frantic and desperate, trying to conjure even a single explanation that makes sense. Maybe it was a trade agreement. Maybe for peace. Or protection. A gesture of loyalty. A debt.

Maybe they didn’t want to, maybe they had no choice—

But no matter how you twist it, no matter how you try to make the puzzle fit, it all leads back to the same gut-sickening truth:

Your parents handed you over.

Their only child.

Their daughter.

They let you go without a fight.

Your breath comes faster now. Too fast. Your chest rises and falls in shallow gulps, your eyes burn as tears sting your lower lashes. You press your palms against the ground, trying to steady yourself, but the earth feels like it’s swaying beneath you.

And that’s when you hear it—

Footsteps.

Not one.

Several.

Heavy. Measured. Coming closer.

You freeze.

Then, instinct kicks in.

Your eyes dart around the tent—this massive structure of stitched hide and bone—but there’s nowhere to run. Nowhere to hide. It’s just you and the fire. You press yourself back, scooting until you’re wedged in the farthest corner, limbs curled in, body shaking. The firelight flickers over you briefly, exposing the sheer panic on your face.

The footsteps stop just outside.

Your lungs go still.

The flap of the tent shifts—drawn aside—and they enter.

One by one.

Four enormous figures, each one ducking under the threshold, their sheer mass making the already-huge space feel crushingly small. Their presence is immediate. Dominant. Terrifying.

They don’t look human.

They look like nightmares.

Each one is cloaked in fur, bone, leather. Adorned with teeth and claws strung like trophies along their bodies. They wear masks—animal heads hollowed and worn like armor.

The first wears a towering bear skull atop his broad shoulders, his eyes hidden beneath the thick shadow of the mask. He carries no weapon, but you don’t need one to be dangerous when you’re that large.

The second wears a dark wolf’s head, pelt draped like a cloak over his chest. He doesn’t move like the others—there’s a stillness to him, a silence that makes your skin crawl.

The third is lighter, with a white wolf mask and a body decorated in ivory beads, claws, and pale fur. His head tilts when he looks at you, and for some reason, it feels almost gentle. Almost.

The fourth—

God. You hate the fourth.

He wears a cat-like animal mask—something feline, maybe a leopard. His chest is bare, thickly muscled, marked with old scars and painted lines. The way he walks is casual, almost amused. A predator with time to spare.

They stop just inside.

Four men.

Four monsters.

Four beasts.

You don’t know which one is worse.

You curl in tighter, trying to shrink into the shadows, praying they’ll ignore you. But they don’t speak. They just stare—through you, past you, into you. Like they’re trying to figure out if you’re a threat, or prey.

They feel too close.

Even when they’re standing on the other side of the fire, they feel right on top of you.

And somewhere deep in your stomach, dread coils.

You hope—God, you hope—that they really are monsters. That they’re more beast than man. Because if they’re men… if they’re human… if they have the capacity to feel, to want—

Then this will be so much worse.

You’ve heard stories. Of what men do. What they take. Of women discarded and broken, left as nothing but vessels for someone else’s hunger. If these are the kind of men your village feared—if your parents knew that, and still gave you up—

It would almost be better to be eaten.

Bones and all.

The silence stretches on, heavy and unbearable. You feel their eyes on you, picking you apart, weighing every breath, every twitch. You can’t stand it. You can’t stand the not knowing.

So you break.

Your voice comes out small, terrified. Cracked like old wood.

“Are you… gonna eat me?”

It’s barely more than a whisper. A child’s voice. A broken prayer.

The silence holds for one breath.

Two.

And then the leopard-mask lets out a howl of laughter.

It bursts from his chest like an explosion, his head thrown back as the sound echoes through the tent. Loud. Wild. Startling.

You flinch so hard your back hits the wall of the tent.

God, how you want that stupid cat to shut up.

The white wolf looks at you, visibly confused.

“…Eat… you…?” he repeats, tilting his head.

His voice is low, accented. Soft in a way that doesn’t match the rest of him.

The leopard is still laughing, hands on his hips now like he can’t breathe, and you burn with shame. Your face goes hot, your eyes prick with humiliation.

How stupid. How stupid you must sound.

“Johnny.” The bear-mask speaks at last. His voice is deep, gravelly, sharp with warning.

The laughing one—Johnny, apparently—chokes on another chuckle, then finally quiets, though you still see the grin twitching beneath his mask.

You press further back into the corner, wishing the earth would swallow you whole.

The white wolf is still watching you.

But something’s shifted.

He’s not confused anymore. He looks… curious.

And the silence returns.

bones and all mentioned 🤓 | lemme know if you wanna be in the taglist! | i will differently add more onto this like the moodboard and playlist ! | this took forever to make so please enjoy! | borders by @saradika-graphics !!

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elbiotipo · 10 months ago

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Some notes on worldbuilding with carnivorous cultures:

Animals feed more people than you think. You don't kill a cow for just one steak, this is a modern misconception since we're removed from the actual animals we eat our meat from; a single cow has several kilos of meat. In fact, slaughtering a single cow often means a feast time for possibly dozens of people. Every part of an animal can be used, and you can see this in cultures that live by ranching and transhumance.

Here, you should look at the Mongols and the people of the Eurasian Steppe, the people of the North American Plains, the people of the Pampas (fun fact; Buenos Aires was called the "carnivore city"), European and Asian cultures that practice transhumance, and those of the Arctic circle.

There are many ways to cook meat, but arguably, the most nutritious way to consume meat is in stew, as it allows you to consume all the fats of the animal and add other ingredients. In fact, mutton soup and stew historically was one of the basic meals for the for people in the Eurasian Steppe, who are one of the people with the highest meat consumption in the world.

Of course, meat spoils away easily. Fortunately, from jerky to cured meats, there are ways to prevent this. In pre-industrial and proto-industrial societies, salted meat was the main way of consumption and exporting meat. This makes salt even a more prized good.

Often, certain parts of animals like eyes, the liver, the testicles, the entrails, are considered not only cultural delicacies but as essential for vitamins and nutrients unavailable in environments such as the poles. The Inuit diet is a very strong example.

Pastures and agriculture have often competing dynamics. The lands that are ideal for mass pasture, that is, temperature wet grasslands, are also often ideal for agriculture. So pastoralism has often been in the margins of agrarian societies. This dynamic could be seen in the Americas. After the introduction of cattle and horses, the Pampas hosted semi-nomadic herdsmen, natives and criollo gauchos. The introduction of wire eventually reduced this open territory, converting it into intense agriculture, and traditional ranching was displaced to more "marginal" land less suitable for agriculture. Similar processes have happened all over the world.

This also brings an interesting question to explore. Agriculture is able to feed more people by density. What about species that DON'T do agriculture, because they're completely carnivorous? The use of what human civilization considers prime agricultural land will be different. They will be able to support much higher population densities than pastoralism.

Pastoral human populations have developed lactase persistance to be able to feed on dairy products even in adulthood. This mutation has happened all over the world, presumably with different origins. In any mammalian species that domesticates other mammals such a thing would be very common if not ubiqutous, as it massively expands the diet. Milk provides hydration, and cheese, yogurth and other such products allows long lasting food sources.

What about hunting? Early humans were apex predators and we are still ones today. However, humans can eat plants, which somewhat reduces the hunting pressure on fauna (though not the pressure of agrarian expansion which can be even worse). An exclusively carnivorous species (for example some kind of cat people) would have to develop very rigid and very complex cultural behavior of managing hunting, or else they would go extinct from hunger before even managing domestication. These cultural views towards hunting have also arosen in people all over the world, so you can get a sense of them by researching it.

It is possible for pastoral nomadic people, without any agriculture, to have cities? Of course. All nomadic peoples had amazing cultures and in Eurasia, they famously built empires. But they traded and entered conflicts with agrarian societies, too. They weren't isolated. Most of nomadic societies were defined by trade with settled ones.

The origin of human civilization and agriculture is still debated. It would be probably completely different for a non-human carnivorous society. One possible spark would be ritual meeting points (such as the historical Gobleki Tepe) or trade markets growing into permanent cities. But in general, pastoralism, hunting and ranching favors low-density populations that would be quite different.

Fishing, on the other hand, is a reliable source of protein and promotes settled cities. One can imagine acquaculture would be developed very early by a civilization hungry for protein.

Other possibilities of course are the raising of insects and mushrooms, both very uncommonly explored in fiction besides passing mentions.

Of course, most carnivorous species have some limited consumption of plant matter and many herbivores are oportunistic predators. The main thing to ask here is what the daily meal is here. For most human agrarian cultures, it's actually grain (this is where the word meal comes from). What about species that cannot live with a grain-based diet? You will find that many things people take for granted in agrarian society would be completely different.

As I always say: the most important question you can ask is "where does the food comes from?"

I hope you found these comments interesting and useful! I would love to do a better post once I'm able to replace my PC (yes, I wrote this all in a phone and I almost went insane). If you like what I write and would love to see more worldbuilding tips, consider tipping my ko-fi and checking my other posts. More elaborate posts on this and other subjects are coming.

#cosas mias #worldbuilding #speculative evolution #spec evo #spec bio #writing advice #biotipo worldbuilding

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deepinthedirt · 9 months ago

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The time, effort, and money needed to make vegetarian meat, including growing the crops, paying the workers, and actually processing it, does not come close to the time, effort, and money it takes to breed an animal, house and feed it until it gets big enough, slaughter it, and process its carcass.

The big difference is that animal meat is far more universal than plant based meat. There's more support for the people producing meat and more demand for it, so it can be produced in larger quantities than plant meat, which cuts costs. Not even touching the fact that capitalists can hike up the prices for plant based meat and ppl will still buy it cause the alternative for a lot of them (vegetarians/vegans, ppl who are allergic, religious dietary restrictions, etc etc etc) is no meat.

There's lots of reasons that plant meat is more expensive, but the amnt of processing and the labor on the production of the raw materials is not one of them. And I don't think that ppl who don't want to or can't eat animal meat for whatever reason should have to suffer and pay more for that choice.

It's such bullshit that plant based meats are so much more expensive than regular meat.

#raising livestock is fucking expensive as hell #so is farming tbf #and ngl the companies packing and making the food #can probably buy the same weight of peas/soybeans/etc as they could cattle for abt the same amnt or even less #also this is not me trying to lecture you or shame you for not knowing #but yeah. there's a lot that goes into raising an animal for slaughter even before it gets bought by whatever company is processing it

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feralrarity · 2 years ago

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Random take no one ask for: being vegan is by no means more ethical than sustainable farming/hunting but a lot of the time it can be a good median of sustainability and more affordable for low income households like mine.

Being vegan for me is foraging wild garlic and mustang grapes and dandelions which I can all find right outside the suburbs in wooded road medians. It's buying rice and beans and various home grown veggies and eating well while not sacrificing extra $ for protein and iron.

I feel like a lot of the time veganism removes humanity from the food chain when taken to extremes but really it's the best thing I can do for my family when the price of un-tortured chicken eggs are that high.

#I have this essay bonking around in my brain maybe one day I'll straighten it out and back it up with research #that being said I still eat honey and support local farmers and beekeepers #$40 a pound local beef isn't in my budget but $10 a pound for pecans is #Also leather shouldn't be wasted all parts of the animal should be used if its life is taken for humans #I mean if you hunt a deer you process all the meat and give the bones antlers and fat to your dogs if you are unable to use them yourself #not to mention skins hold up incredibly well for a lifetime #it should be the same for other animals #also dont even get me started on migrant workers conditions/ wage withholdings in massive corporate slaughter houses #or how corporate farms impose a modern form of indentured servitude on smaller farmers #Much love to those who can afford sustainable omnivore living #Will probably expand on this as I think about it more #veganism

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strangebiology · 3 months ago

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fuck it

241 pages on the science of maximising animal welfare in the slaughter process

#animal slaughter

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yanderefarm · 9 months ago

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slasher!reader x fanboy!yandere

cw;; gore, blood, cannibalism, murder, animal violence mentioned

can u tell i love slashers... i wanna be a hot slasher monster thats the gender goal.

you're a local legend in the area, a modern myth to scare people away from the old slaughter house. most people don't actually believe you exist but there isn't an insignificant amount of people who never make it back from that "haunted" location.

you're no ghost, no you're very real. you live in the slaughter house where you do your "work". you actually ship out a decent amount of actual meat but only to specific customers who don't ask questions. some of them buy your premium meats but mostly you're just butchering cows and pigs. it's tedious work, nothing is as satisfying as cutting into a screaming crying human body.

you're so excited when another group of young adults come to visit. they're doing a test of courage. you're gonna make them really prove themselves tonight. there's only about 6 of them and from that you can only see 3 who's meat will actually sell. you silently plan to keep two as livestock to plump up and leave the 6th to go back and spread your myth farther.

it's a long night. humans don't like dying, they fight and scratch every step of the process. you've gotten two of the ones with the best meat and you've put them in your meat locker. one of the worthless ones is bleeding out with your hand in their hair. the remaining meats have given you a pretty nasty wound in your side and the pain is pissing you off. you don't even get to throw this worthless meat in the freezer before it's dead. annoying. you let go of its hair, your foot crushing it's arm as you drag yourself further.

you smell gasoline when your body finally gives against one of the walls. you can guess that those stupid meat bags are going to set fire to all your hard work. if only they hadn't gotten the drop on you. you hold your hand over the cut as you accept your fiery fate. but it doesn't come.

you hear footsteps, timid footsteps. you lull your head in the direction of them and you see the last premium meat standing there in front of you.

"...you... you're hurt." he drops next to you and tepidly reaches his hand towards your wound. you remove your hand letting it fall limp next to you. he immediately pulls out a small sewing kit.

"this is going to be uncomfortable but please bear with it." he threaded a needle and began the painful process of sewing up the gash.

you watched his hands move in silence, only flinching a few times from the pain. the boy in front of you had his brows furrowed and his tongue slightly out as he focused intensely on patching you up. it was so curious you couldn't stop staring at him. he tied it off and cut the excess string.

"i should kill you now." you picked your weapon off the ground next to you. the meat swallowed hard.

"if.. if you want... but can I make a request?" his face was red.

"i don't usually take requests.. but i suppose since you helped me out."

he swallowed again before looking up into your eyes. "i.. i don't want you to sell me. please eat me yourself!"

#top male reader #dom male reader #male reader #yandere oc #sub yandere #yandere x male reader #yandere ideas #yandere x reader #slasher reader #yandere male #yandere follower

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lurochar · 1 year ago

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The Shadow will Play

'Behave'? What did that mean?

In which Alastor’s shadow "plays" with you and you find out something very interesting about your lover.

Alastor’s Shadow x Reader

18+ MDNI

Part 2

‐-------------------

“Behave.”

It had been his Master's orders and he was trying so hard to abide by them, but you were just making it so difficult for him!

What exactly did ‘behave’ mean? It's not like his Master gave any examples in which he could follow through.

Did ‘behave’ mean not going out and slaughtering a few unlucky Sinners?

Did ‘behave’ mean not pulling a few pranks on the hotel residents and staff?

Or did ‘behave’ mean not getting amorous with his Master's lover?

(Shouldn't he be able to touch? He was a very part of Master after all).

It seemed that his Master had not told you to behave as you were touching him freely, causing him to shudder from your pleasant warmth.

“You're so cute~” You always did love how affectionate Alastor’s shadow was as it rubbed against you like a giant cat. “Is there anything you want to do today? I don't think Alastor will be back until tonight.”

The shadow tilted its head before its grin widened and it let out a series of chirps. It pushed you back on you and Alastor’s bed, cooing as you let out a surprised noise when it clamored over top of you, “W-what are you doing?”

The shadow's tail wagged as it thought back to the times where he was just a voyeur when you and his Master engaged in intimacy and knew he wanted to draw those pretty sounds from you.

“W-woah!” Your eyes widened when the shadow eagerly began to pull down your pants, probably ripping parts in the process with its claws. “Did Alastor put you up to this?”

The shadow paused for the briefest of seconds before chattering, nodding its head as it finally managed to rip your pants off.

“Well, if he’s okay with it…” You muttered, shivering slightly when you felt the shadow's two cold hands on each thigh, spreading them as you flushed at the… odd situation you found yourself in.

But if this is something Alastor wanted, then…

You jumped when your panties were practically torn off you and cool fingers were parting your folds. You shut your eyes, expecting to feel discomfort or even pain since you weren't prepared in the least and not at all wet.

The shadow tittered, using his thumb to rub circles around that nub of flesh like his Master did and as expected, you let out one of those pretty sounds that had his ears twitching.

“That… feels good.” You sighed, feeling a heat in your lower belly begin to ignite. You glanced down curiously, aching a bit when its thumb left your clit, moving so its face was directly at your cunt.

Before it could dig in, it reached up, catching you by surprise as it took hold of your arms and placed your hands on its ears, pointing at them and chirping.

“You want me to pet them while you do that?” You asked and received a nod in return. “If you're anything like Alastor, and I'm sure you will be, I'm not sure I'll be able to,” you got a sound that sounded like a huff, “but I'll try! I will!”

The shadow seemed satisfied with that.

The shadow parted your slippery folds again, keeping them spread and it was quick to bury its long tongue in your dripping hole, causing you to shudder.

Like Alastor, it could elongate his tongue.

You groaned, feeling its tongue lap at every little crevice of your pussy, slurping up your slick like a mindless animal, “H-hah, yeah. Oh, r-right.”

You squeezed its ears as promised.

You almost shattered when you felt a small vibration in your core and you barely heard something – a sound that you never heard the shadow make before and once more, to be sure, you squeezed the shadow's ears.

Again, there was that sound and that oh-so good vibration and with the absolute tongue fucking you were getting, you were gonna cum with that next one.

But that sound – what was it and why was it familiar?

The shadow ears twitched when you squeezed them again, hearing your moans while your legs spasmed around his cold body and he tried the best he could to lap up your slick as your hole clenched around his tongue.

Your noises were so pretty~♡

(He wanted more).

It took a few moments for you to gather your senses as you slowly sat up, seeing the grinning shadow practically make heart eyes at you.

But before that, you needed an answer to a question (and possibly, another answer to another question).

“That noise you made when I touched your ears, was that a deer bleat?” You asked, causing the shadow to nod and you to be taken back for a second.

‘I’ve touched them before, and Alastor or his shadow has never made that sound, so maybe it's just a sex thing?’

“If I touch Alastor’s ears during sex, would he bleat too?” You asked, thinking back and you always wondered why your lover seemed dead set on you not touching his ears during intimate times, but you had just respected his wishes and never went beyond that.

The shadow nodded.

“That’s so cute~!” You smiled brightly, bringing the shadow in for a hug and it purred, tail wagging, “Thank you for telling me this! How can I repay you?” You almost regretted asking as the shadow immediately pounced on you, ready for more of you.

His Master wouldn't be back until night, after all.

#alastor x reader #alastor smut #alastor shadow #x reader #alastor’s shadow x reader #hazbin hotel x reader

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