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#TW animal abuse
justapigeonn · 1 day
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i have a little hc that each bloodclan cat has a very brutal/tragic backstory - i like to think that bone for example was once a very well cared for designer cat who belonged to a wealthy family but was ignored and eventually neglected in favour of a newer, fancier cat and had to learn to fend for himself on the streets. while he wasn't particularly tough or street savvy yet, he was large and very used to getting his way and he quickly established a reputation as being pushy and domineering.
brick on the other hand i'd like to think was used as bait in dog fighting rings which is how they got their signiture missing patch of fur between their shoulders, but eventually escaped (maybe with the help of bone?) and began a new life on the streets
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people who go "taxidermy bad u animal abuser!" really dont know what taxidermy can be. picking up a dead fox off the road to make a head mount bc its head was in perfect shape isnt abuse. salvaging bones from a dead rat outside isnt abuse. pining dead creatures found isnt abuse. if you didnt kill the animal you did nothing subjectivley wrong. and some people do kill animals they taxidermy. sometimes the animal is sick and is in a worse quality of life and its putting them in so so much pain. or its gonna be killed by authorities. or a million different other reasons. just admit you have no clue what taxidermy is other than farmers messily stuffing squirrels they shot and move on w ur life.
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madamtrashbat · 3 months
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When I was ten, we lived on a rice farm with a lot of big buildings in the middle of nowhere. One of the shitty employees of the rice farm decided that, because we had barn cats on the premises, it was perfectly fine to dump a litter of very small kittens into one of the barns.
(I hate her I hate her I hate her)
The kittens were not old enough to be on their own, and despite one of the barn cats looking after them, the majority of them did not make it. All except for one, a little tuxedo that let my dad pick it up.
He brought it into the house, and I decided I was going to nurse it back to health. He was mostly black with a white chin, little white toes, and a white belly. He was so small. I fell in love with him.
I named him Pookie.
He would curl up in the crook of my neck and sleep on my shoulder, where it was warm. He was eating the cat food I mushed up with water, and for three days I thought he might make it.
Then, inexplicably, our dog Fancy, a heeler/shepherd mix, attacked him in the laundry room. She had never done anything like that before and never did anything like that afterwards. I never knew why she did what she did.
I begged my parents to take him to the vet. Please, see if there's anything we can do. I want to save him so badly.
But we had very little money at the time, and my mom couldn't justify an enormous vet bill for a cat we'd had for less than a week that there was surely nothing to do for.
I put him in his basket that night with food and water and many blankets. He had no external injuries besides a nosebleed, so I hoped it wasn't as bad as it seemed.
He didn't see the morning. My dad buried him in the flowerbed without much ado.
I cried for two days into the arms of an unsympathetic mother who didn't understand why I felt so strongly over a cat we'd had for three days, bombarded with criticism from a judgmental sister who severely disliked cats. My dad did his best to try and comfort me, but he's not the best with emotions and didn't know what to say.
It has stuck with me for 20 years. I wonder, from time to time, if I did enough. If I'd kept him in my room instead of the laundry room, if I'd looked up how to care for him, if I'd kept closer watch on him and kept the dog away from him, would he have lived. Would he still have been my cat. Would he have known a life of love and warm fireplaces and full bellies and cuddling into my shoulders until he was too big to fit.
I'll never know.
I told Sawyer about this recently, in a moment of emotional upheaval where I was just spewing out a list of things that had happened in my past that I'd never really gotten over. The conviction of my sadness apparently struck a deep chord with Sawyer, who decided to make me a memorial for Pookie to keep his memory close.
No one else had taken my emotions regarding Pookie seriously. Not until now. And not only did Sawyer take it seriously, the emotional vomit of an adult woman still crying over a cat she had for three days in fifth grade, but Sawyer thought it important enough that it should never be forgotten.
It's nice, sometimes, to know the person you've chosen to go through life with is the best person in the world for you.
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lordofryoshimacoast · 3 months
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If I see one more post on any platform where a therian takes in an injured wild animal to 'rehabilitate' it I'm gonna lose it.
Alright everyone, say it with me: JUST BECAUSE YOU'RE A THERIAN, DOES NOT MEAN YOU IMMEDIATELY KNOW EVERYTHING ABOUT ANIMALS
You are NOT a wildlife professional (unless you are, if you are, pop off)
Injured wild animals should not be handled by people with no experience with them, it would be safer to call your local wildlife rehab.
WILD ANIMALS ARE NOT PETS!
WILD RABBITS ARE NOT PETS!
FOXES ARE NOT PETS!
COYOTES ARE NOT PETS!
RACOONS ARE NOT PETS!
WILD RATS ARE NOT PETS!
Sorry about the aggression, it pisses me off seeing people unintentionally harm animals. I'm gonna be honest, the therian community (especially the younger demographics) has problems with harming wildlife, whether it be letting your dog roam off leash on hiking trails, or letting your cat outside unsupervised.
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incohearent · 2 months
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Veganism is a normal reaction to cruelty. Normal! Normal! We didn't want to be nonconformist! We never wanted this! Not for everyone, not for anyone!
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koirankusema666 · 1 month
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Animal abuse is not an aesthetic. Learn to read animal body language. Learn to treat animals like living beings deserving of respect. Call out abuse of animals when you see it.
I see lots of therians especially with these aesthetic blogs, not naming any by name but I'm pretty sure y'all know what kinda blogs I'm talking about. It's not even about pics of gore or death, yes that too, but sharing pictures of animals in distress in general is not a mood you should romanticize?
It's like when people purposefully harass their pets until they hiss, growl or bite at you just to get aesthetic pics or likes on the internet... If that was a mistreated human child telling you to stop y'all wouldn't be sharing that shit.
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itsonlypolite · 28 days
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This comic is word for word based off of @pareidolla's post about broken so go check it out!!! One particular paragraph was written so poetically I couldn't get it out of my head so here's a comic inspired from it:
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Transcript: A dog will fight you, naturally, but you are stronger, and if it is wise, it will realize resistance is pointless. You can harm a dog as much as you'd like until it learns to do whatever it takes to satisfy and stay your hand. Only then will you reward it, and only then will the dog merely flinch between caresses.
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fischyplier · 2 months
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//TW animal harm, animal death
I wish this special was a series! The people want, nay - Need more!
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frigateclan · 10 months
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//Prologue - 1//
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woaheyeradioboy · 6 months
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I genuinely don't fucking care what you like in fiction. I don't care how disgusting, heinous, or "illegal" (not actually) it is, as long as you aren't agreeing with it or acting out things you read in a non-roleplay/fiction setting.
TW: Rape, Child Abuse, Pedophilia, Age gaps, Abuse, Bestiality, Grooming, Incest, and similar content
You can read about someone being raped. You can read about a child being raped. You can read about incest. You can read about pedophilic incest. You can read about someone fucking a dog. You can read about someone being raped by an animal. You can read about someone grooming someone else. You can read about horrible power imbalances. You can read about Victim x Abuser. You can read about gang rape. You can read all of that and more, whether the content is "romanticizing" or "sexualizing" it or putting it in a "positive light", because I do believe if you're reading these things you are capable enough to not have your morals and "respect" of laws immediately broken because you didn't get told 100 different times during the story how bad the content was.
You can read WHATEVER THE FUCK YOU WANT, however you want, forever and ever. Don't act out the fiction in real life unless roleplaying with another consent adult (or teenager within your age range if you're not 18+) and it DOESN'T MATTER.
Fiction can affect reality, but usually only if you're allowing it to. Children oftentimes shouldn't be online but even if they are, it is never an authors fault or the people who enjoy the fiction the author writes that the child ends up exposed to bad things. If someone who is mentally unwell and cannot separate fiction and reality due to this is online and is affected by these things, it is not the authors fault or the fault of the people who enjoy the authors fiction.
If something that someone else wrote affects someone else in a bad way, it is not the authors fault.
Censorship of fiction is bad no matter what, and if you want to censor any form of fiction you are automatically already getting closer to people like transphobes and racists and ableists, because being pro-censorship ALWAYS leads down the same exact rabbit hole of puritan beliefs and controlling others.
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roseshark · 3 months
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Animalistic Tendencies
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pinkinsect · 2 months
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this villain monologue was so fucking awful that ego took over the screen and told kaiser to try again. and that's how we got chapter 207
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Jason grace
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angelbambisworld · 4 months
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So goth I'm literally shoving bats directly into my anus as we speak
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vintagexherry · 11 months
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Act
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YandereDirector!Miguel O'Hara x Actress!Reader
//Dead dove do not eat,Lying in public, Kidnapping, Fake Death, Mild stockholm syndrome, Lyla being a wingwoman, Heavy Abuse, half drowing, Heavy animal abuse, Animal death, implied sexual abuse.
A/N: 2nd winner of the poll, Have this for awhile while I get busy with school and might not upload TFTD soon
---
"She was the kindest person I worked with, she knew what to do and how to do it professionally. We might not have that much time together, but for whatever it's worth, she was truly a unique person..."
Miguel paused for a while, holding back a sob from his throat.
"I wished for Y/N's family and friends my condolences and not to forget my gratitude for bringing up a person like her in this world."
With that, Miguel left the podium with a solemn expression, cameras flashing from left to right. Nosy interviewers pushing up microphones his way, trying to one up each other, hoping their questions will be answered.
That day was grey, gloomy, and depressing. News have found that you have gone missing the past few months and after multiple searches from the government, you were now declared dead.
Some people believe, some don't. Mostly, conspiracies would say that you were still alive, crawling on the ground out of a hole where you were said to be buried alive by some jealous actor. Some would say you got abducted or kidnapped by some crazed fan.
It's still a mystery if either you're dead or alive, disappearing just after your premiere show.
But that's what public only knows.
Miguel enters the backseat of his car on the way to his private mansion in some woods. He let's out a small chuckle.
"Great work out there, big boss"
A woman who seemed to be younger than Miguel sits at the driver's seat, she started the car and drives away, away from cameras, away from people and away from suspecting ears.
"I wIsHed HeR faMiLy mY ConDolOncEs" Lyla mocked as she stopped in the middle of traffic.
"Just drive, Lyla," Miguel huffed, but nonetheless, still happy, he finally got out of that stuffy crowd.
"Whatever you say boss."
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A few minutes passed by, and they finally arrived in a land barricaded by gates and high security cameras and sensors.
The high tall gates opened up to let the car in.
"Were there any distubance with Y/N?" Miguel asks as he leaves the car and goes straight to this house with Lyla closely behind.
"Aside from going to the bathroom and playing with the cat, nothing else seems out of the ordinary."
"...Really?"
"No kicking doors, no attempt to break windows and nothing else. She seems to be adjusting well."
Miguel went silent for a while as they passed by the garden and fountaine, where you and him would (forcefully) walk side by side, that is, until you tried running away.
"That's... Good to hear. Thanks, Lyla."
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"How's your day, dear?" Miguel approaced your form, sitting on the bed, petting your beloved cat and looking out the window.
"Alright......How's... Your speech? Lyla told me you had one"
He almost forgot Lyla would tell you things he currently does, but he's thankful she doesn't go to detail.
"It was nothing special. But other than that, I got you a little something."
He held a in a sigh as you merely looked at the bag by his hand.
He took the bag and landed it on the bed beside your form and looked at you patiently.
You hesitated a bit, He can understand why.
He spoiled you lots and lots thanks to his rising director career, but his gifts can vary a lot. To dresses, to jewellery, up to sex toys, and lingerine.
You remember one time you got gifted a lingerine version of your fictional character suit, and you refused to wear it. Next thing you know, you were forced to be naked for three days. Your usual thick blanket got changed into a much thinner one, rendering it almost useless to the cold temperature Miguel set your room in.
You decided to accept his gifts no matter what they are.
You placed the cat next to you while cautiously grabbing the bag as if it could explode any second.
The moment you opened the bag, you let out a breath of relief.
Inside was a box of necklace, with it, come matching earrings.
"Thought it matched your eyes, mi amor."
"...Yo-you shouldn't have."
"You're right. I shouldn't, but I wanted too, anyway.Why don't you try it on?"
Without waiting your answer, he took the box from you and lifted your hair a bit to place the necklace around you. You held back a shiver when the cold material touched your skin.
When you felt the necklace lock, Miguel took a mirror from the vanity and placed it in front of you, making you see yourself.
"Aren't you stunning?" Miguel smiled as he watched the necklace glimmer.
"Y-yes."
"Now, what do we say?"
"Th-thank you."
Miguel smiled wider.
"Very good, you're learning more and more." He kissed your cheek while you fought back the urge to flinch away.
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Three months ago
"....And cut! You there! One more mistake im cutting you out of this role." Miguel shouted as people flinched from the volume of his voice and the actor mentioned huffed in annoyance.
"Yeah, whatever" He mumbled.
Miguel sighed, a headache soon to rise.
"Call a break, be back at twenty."
With that, everyone left to go to their own places to take a breather and relax for a bit. You did the same while double-checking your script.
You didn't know how many hours it has been, but the repetitive number of mistakes that your co-actor has been doing has really done an effect on you. You understand that actors alike make mistakes, but he keeps forgetting lines, forgetting actions, and sometimes won't listen to cues and signals.
When being called to audition this role, your heart soar with happiness and excitement. Working under Miguel O'Hara is no joke after all. He was strict yet creative with his movies. The number of awards and recognition he earned shows that.
The movie your acting is an action genre, which you had a bit of difficulty at first, especially with fighting choreography, but you're glad that the team was patient all together
Patience doesn't really last that long thought. You just hope that one co actor would get his bearings right since the movie is almost done and editing and finalizing will be left.
You didn't realize twenty minutes were done until one of the staff started calling everyone back.
Finally, your co actor has gotten it right, and the rest of the production went smooth.
Before you know it, the movie is released,watched, and you were invited to an awarding event.
Everyone was having the time of their life. You were sitting at your designated table along side with Miguel with his assistant.
Lyla is the best person you have ever met, funny with a brush of sarcasm. Although as bit pushy with personal questions and it's still nice to talk to someone light.
While you enjoy your glass of champagne, you watch as the speaker on stage makes their speech for the winning actress of the year award.
"...And for this year award, we would like to dedicate this to none other than Y/N L/N!"
Your eyes widen as cheers and applause erupted from the crowd.
You stood up adjusting your dress a bit and shaking the hand of Miguel as you pass by.
You got up the stage and retrieved your award, made your thank you speech, and bowed.
You guess that after all those cracked backs and sleepless nights of acting, It was all worth it in the end.
----
It was finally time to relax.
People who have worked in the movie have been invited to Miguel's mansion for a nice and soft after-awards celebration and you were invited.
Miguel has won yet again another award for directing another hit.
The invitation was relayed to you by Lyla, and you have been told it would still be held around eleven pm-ish so people would have time to change into a more comfortable clothing and such.
You thanked Lyla for the message and decided to head home to change out of your dress.
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"Hey, pal!" Lyla greeted you as she opened the door to the mansion.
"Hey Lyla! Sorry if I got a bit late."
"No worries! Your the first one to arrive."
Lyla stepped aside so you could step in. You thanked her as you entered.
You have never been inside Miguel's domain, and to say your shock was an understatement.
His style is more contemporary with a touch of art deco for a bit of colour.
You were mesmerised with the sparkling chandelier, a huge flat tv screen by the wall, and a fireplace under it.
The walls had linings of gold and white, and some renaissance paintings were plastered here and there to give the space more life.
"Impressed? I swear it could use some plants, but Miguel's too edgy for that." Lyla chimed in behind you, and you held in a chuckle since she isn't wrong.
"Why don't you sit by the fireplace while I fetch Miguel?" she suggests as she leads you further into the living room and sits down, relishing the warm heat of the fire.
Lyla smiles at your relaxed state and headed upstairs where you guess Miguel was.
While you wait, you stare by the fire, and you're surprised you got here first. It's not like you're a tardy person, but by now, you expected at least three or four people here already. Then your thoughts drive to Miguel.
Stunning and successfull is all you could say.
You worked under different directors, yet he stood out for some reason. Maybe the way he leads the group with an iron fist or just the way he acts around you.
Your thoughts were cut off by a voice behind you.
"Y/N, nice to see you accepted my invitation. Sorry if I wasn't there to greet you." Miguel greeted as he approaches you, Lyla no where to be seen.
"Mr. O'Hara, Thank you for inviting me." You stood up from your place and gave him a handshake.
"Please, call me Miguel. We're relaxing as of now, why not enjoy it." Miguel shook your hand back, you held back a wince from his grip.
"Why don't we get started with the champagne, while we wait for the others hm?" Miguel suggests and you accepted.
----
"... And then, I slammed my headphones on the floor, and it broke."
You and Miguel laughed at his statement.
Both of you were drunk without a care in the world. The other guests never came but none of you could care.
Especially you.
You hiccuped a laugh as you try stabilizing yourself on the couch. Your body feels warm due to the champagne and the fireplace. Two bottles of empty champagne are placed on the coffee table in front of you.
You swear you wouldn't drink much, especially in front of your director, not wanting to look unprofessional, but it seems like both of you got lost in stories and laughter.
"Bet *hic* Lyla talked your ass off for it."
"Oh, you bet." He chuckled, remembering Lyla scolding him as if he was a child who broke a vase.
You laughed again. At this point, you don't know what for. Your head feels light and dizzy, and your vision is wobbly.
Miguel seemed to notice your state and tried to hide his smile. For some, you notice he barely looked drunk, kinda put shames into your "high-tolerance." But your mind wanders, and the more you do, the more you felt like to a deep need to sleep.
"It looks like you enjoyed the champangne too much." Miguel mused, small smile grew on his face.
Some hint of clarity went into you.
"O-oh, my apologies, I-um probably drank your stock." You apologized as he chuckles.
"Nonsense bebita, got more than you could count." He stares into your dazed state and continues. "You know what? I'll call Lyla, you seemed to need help after all those glasses hm?"
"O-oh *hic* Dun't wanna tr-trouble you, sir. I'll uh go *hic* go home. " you said as you put down your half empty glass on the coffee table and held onto the couch, stood up albiet wobbly.
Miguel stood up quickly, but you were to drunk to notice anything.
Next thing you know, you collapsed. The floor or his arms? You don't know.
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".... And make sure the windows are locked."
"Aye aye cap'n"
Your head hurts, your body feels heavy, and your eyes sting from the light from the windows.
The only things you do is realized a comfy and weighted blanket is placed on you and your on a bed you don't recognize.
Your ears could only hear the muffled voices of a man and woman behind the door.
Your eyes roam where it could, and you notice you're in a fancy looking bedroom on a bed that's too big for one person. The windows have curtains on them, but they were opened, making you hiss from the light.
Your head is still dizzy, and you feel like you want to go back to sleep.
But your situation still needs focusing on.
Did you collapse from all that champagne?
Geez, did you sleep in the house of O'hara? god, you hope he isn't mad for needing to take care of your state.
Some sense are finally going back to you, and you decided to sit up with a groan, making the blanket slid of you.
You froze.
This isn't what you were wearing last night.
I mean, who wears a long, spaghetti strap, lacy white night gown to have a drink with your boss?
You panic. Were you still at Miguel's house?
Your questions were answered when the door opened.
There stood Miguel, his eyes automatically landing on you.
"Good. You're awake."
"S-sir?"
"Still calling me that? I thought I told you to call me Miguel?"
You ignored his words as you sat at the edge of the bed.
"I-uh...I...I don't know what happened sir but I apologize for intruding, Im-" You tried speaking, but your words are slurred, your body and mind still processing itself.
"Intruding? Nonsense." Miguel interuppts you, his eyes roam around the long night gown on you. "Seems like I made the right choice for your night gown." He said as he sits beside you on the bed.
You paused.
Was he the one who put this on you?
Signals blare around your head and you try to sit up.
"Si-sir... If I may, I really need to go." Your body finally listens to you as you stand up and try to head towards the door.
You flinched hard when you felt a strong grip on your wrist, stopping you on your tracks.
"What did I just say about calling me Miguel?" His eyes focused on you and you shivered. You really need to go away.
"Si-Miguel... Please, I really need to go."
You pleaded, but your words were ignored, and all Miguel did was pull you closer to him and further from the door.
Your body is now shooting signals left and right your dizziness long forgotten. You tried wriggling your hands out of his grip with all you could muster, Miguel didn't budge a bit and just pulled you into closer to him.
"Don't make this harder." With that he pulled you closer to him one more time before lifting you up and throwing you harshly on the bed.
Air was knocked out of your lungs no matter how soft the matress could be. Fear is going higher and higher in your body, and you're not hearing signals anymore. An entire warning siren rings in your head to get out of here as fast as you could.
What happened last night?
Did you offend him?
Why did he changed your clothes?
Where's your phone?
You didn't have much to think about when the next thing you know was lips roughly pushing agaist your own.
"Mmh!-"
First you got abducted now your forced to kiss your captor.
Your hands automatically tried to push him away by pushing against his chest, but it was futile. His own hands took your wrists away from his chest and pinned down on each side of your head.
He finally let go, and both of you panted from loss of breath.
"Let me g-!"
Your words once again stopped when he kissed you again. This time, it is less rough yet still demanding control.
"I said don't make this harder."
He said as one of his hands gathered both your wrists to be pinned above your head while the other one slid underneath your nightgown to bunch it up to your hips.
"No no nonono please...Miguel I beg you plea-"
"As much as I love you, I'd appreciate it if you shut up for once."
Your words choked up in your throat, following his orders unwillingly. You didn't even realize tears started streaming down your face, soaking the sheets underneath.
Miguel didn't seem to care.
Instead he smiled.
"Good. Atleast you know how to listen."
You tried gulping, but doing so made you choked up even more.
"Shh shh, just calm down."
Yeah...As if that's easy.
His other hand started tracing the lacy patters of your underwear, which you dreadfully realized that was changed too.
You tried wriggling your hips away from him, but that didn't deter him from ripping your underwear off of you.
You painfully yelp from force.
"Shh... Just relax and enjoy the ride hermosa."
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One Month Later.
Life is getting bad and worse the more you spend your time here.
First, you learned Miguel has been planning this for so long since you got recruited to star in his movie. You don't know what that plan contains, but it must have been a really good one since no one is not even the government could find you.
Second, always as permission and opinions from either Lyla or Miguel. One time the both of them went out to attend a meeting. While they were gone, you decided to take a bath by yourself to get rid of the dirty proof you had with Miguel last night. Time must have passed while you were enjoying your alone time since Miguel burst into the bathroom with a deep scowl on his face.
Next thing you know, you were forced under the water of your bath. Water is going in your nose, and bubbles stinging your eyes. Miguel is ranting something, but you don't hear anything due to your fainting consciousness, but Miguel pulled you up before you could even faint and after a few seconds he dunked you again.
Another time was picking clothes. It was finally nighttime, and you wanted something thicker to wear. You saw a cardigan and decided to wear that while you have your usual long, silk night gown underneath.
Miguel came out of the bathroom and paused when he saw what your wearing.
"Dear... What's that? hm?"
You flinched when you heard his voice.
"O-oh umm... Just a cardigan, wanted to be a bit warmer to-today."
He stayed silent for a while until he slowly started approaching you.
You flinched again, Miguel can be unpredictable. Is he gonna shout?.
You don't have time to think when his hands suddenly grab your arm and pulled you into the balcony of your shared room.
"Migue-"
"Warm, huh? Let's see how warm you can be out here without me."
His voice is calm...Eerily calm. But you know better.
He roughly opened the windowed door to the balcony and roughly pushed you into it.
Before you could even think, you heard the door shut behind you and you froze.
Did... Did he just locked you out of here?
"Miguel! Miguel please! Im sorry!!"
You shouted as you banged against the balcony door. You couldn't see anything since Miguel seemed to slide the curtains shut.
After a few minutes, which felt like an hour to you already, you gave up on getting Miguel's attention.
You even thought of jumping off the balcony, but within that height, you're sure you would only end up trying to get up and run on broken bones. You're sure as hell you wouldn't even go that far.
You didn't know when you slept, but your eyes opened to the sun that's just started to rise and Miguel carrying you bridal style back to the bedroom.
You temperature down to yourself and your complexion lighter than usual, your lips and throat dry, your body feels numb, and your temperature surely isn't normal.
You couldn't speak, but Miguel didn't mind and kissed your forehead as he layed you down on the bed.
The warmth of Miguel's body and everything else sent shivers onto you.
Althought your body is reduced to nothing but a shivering piece of meat.
The next time you woke up again, you found every sweater and cardigan disappeared in your closet. With Lyla mocking your choice of clothing is boring anyway.
Finally, third.
Shut up and give what he has to give.
You swear your heart broke everytime you go back to that memory.
Miguel was quote on quote, "feeling generous" that day.
He had his schedule packed and he felt bad for leaving you, sometimes Lyla would accompany you but being his assistant she needs to attend her duties as one.
So he brought you a cat.
You don't remember what you named it but you surely remember you loved it.
Something to call your own.
Something that makes you happy.
You doted on it, fed it, pet it and played with it. It's purrs and meows help you forget the situation your in.
But Miguel is there to remind you.
Miguel noticed your attention is driven away from him to the cat.
That damn cat.
One time, he locked it in a separate room, so he could have his moment with you.
But you would turn away from him, always wondering where the cat is, and if he doesn't answer to your liking you wouldn't let him touch you, Although it doesn't always work, he's getting tired of your attitude.
Next thing you know, he made you sit down all tied up and watch as he beat the helpless cat into a pulp.
You cried as she roughly kicked it to the wall, again and again. You begged him to stop as you listened to the weak call for help of the cat started to dwindle into nothing.
Its eyes were swollen and body bloody and bruised.
Your eyes drifted to Lyla standing by the doorway, and you silently pleaded for her help but it was useless when all she did was sip some soda and watched the beating as if it's a natural occurence.
Your cried even harder when the cat stopped meowing and all you could see was a unmoving lifeless body of the cat you once cherished.
"Next time I see you acting that all lovey dovey to something useless, I'm beating you up next."
With that he untied you from the chair and you quickly scrambled to the floor to gently cradle the dead animal.
Miguel left you to your self.
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Two Months later
You don't know how you're still alive.
Your surprised your internal organs are still working.
Your heart beating.
Your lungs breathing.
Your brain thinking.
Thinking.
Thinking when can you get out.
Miguel practically live in the middle of nowhere, just like those mega-rich people who live in the vast grasslands surrounded by trees and sometimes mountains.
Can you actually get our from here?
Windows?
No.
Hidden cameras surround you more than the paparazzi ever did. They were sometimes annoying, but now you're starting to miss their flashing cameras instead of eerie blinking red dots hidden in drawers or mirrors.
Poisoning him?
No.
Lyla double checks everytime from the ingredients you use to the way you cook them.
Killing yourself?
Not even you have control over your own life anymore.
Miguel practically baby proofed the house for you.
So how...
Maybe never.
All you could do was stare out the window, thinking nothing.
Some drool would slip out of your lips but you didn't care.
You watch the same scenery from the window for the 1000th time. The unchanging grasshills, the migrating birds you would sometimes see and the setting sun and rising moon.
Miguel seemed to deem you unstable. You would cry randomly. You stopped turning away his affection but at what cost?
Maybe he would prefer that instead of you looking out in the middle of no where, thinking nothing.
Your crying outbursts would randomly start, at the shower, in the bed, in the kitchen. You name it.
So maybe going out of the house would help you.
You wordlessly took his hand as he lead you out of the house, watching your reaction or body language the whole time.
It seems he was right. Going outside does help.
Your eyes seem to brighten a fraction.
He didn't even realise he let out a sigh of relief when he watched your eyes look around the massive garden as if it's your first time seeing the color green.
You both roamed around, stopping once or thrice to admire a budding flower or a fluttering butterfly.
Miguel didn't really care for the garden since he didn't have time to roam around and admire what he had already seen for a thousand times already. So maybe it was a bit neglected, bushes are overgrowing and vines seems to spread out more.
He decided that once this little trip is over, he needs to hire a gardener to tend it a bit.
Aside from the view, his enjoying you.
Although he isn't sure which part.
The way your eyes light up more and more as you explored the garden and admiring the fountain.
Or.
The way you didn't let go of his hand the entire time. Maybe he did teach you well after all.
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Three months later
It seems like he saved your mental health from declining if he just lets you go out of the house once in a while.
You even learned how to respond to him.
You learned how to touch him.
To hold him.
To love him...
It was all he could ask for.
It took some time for the police to get off his back for the suspicion he has for kidnapping you (which isn't far from the truth)
He even had to make you hide in a secret room in his stupidly big mansion. You didn't know why you had to hide.
But atleast that got the police searching his house finally leave him be after several meetings and interoggations of him.
He finally can live in peace.
You became so good for him he decided to get you another cat.
This time you knew better and he loved you for it.
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Months gone by, possibly years, but atleast your finally content-ish with your life.
Not happy but tolerable.
You stopped pushing away and just give into his so-called "love"
Although Miguel might not always be happy with your lack of emotions nowadays , at least he has you by his side then his contented.
Miguel, on the other hand, feels joyous, true he doesn't find your lacklustre attitude too nice, but it's also true he has you with him.
With politicians, accusations and the damn police out of his back, he can finally go back to loving you.
And he can finally drop the act.
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A/N: Hope u enjoyed, with this, I will go on a hiatus for while, I am unsure when I can be back since life has been pretty busy. I will also postpone my lastedt series so am sorry for that.
I am still thankful for your endless support.
Have a nice day everyone, ty for understanding
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theriancultureis · 8 months
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Doberman therian culture is being infuriated by all the people that crop their doberman's ears because it's 'more aesthetic' with zero regard for the dog's wellbeing.
isn't it also often done without anesthesia? ("ear cropping" involves the removal of part of the ear)
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also look at them without the aesthetic changes vs with it ("tail docking" or the removal of the tail is also an extremely common practice)
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