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#farm animal kin
citizenoftmrrwlnd · 8 hours
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stimboard for : a goat with horns, fur, and fields/grass requested by anemo anon
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stimsofooo · 1 month
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Hayden Fields Of Mistira Stimboard
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"Hayden is Mistria's other farmer. He adores the animals he raises (especially his prize chicken, Henrietta) and will be happy to provide you with some of your own! There's nothing Hayden enjoys more than a hard day's work on his beloved farm than putting up his feet at the inn for a big meal and a game of cards at night."
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If people can kin Dream, or Markiplier, or one of those hockey players, WHY SHOULDN'T I KIN FROM ANIMAL FARM BY GEORGE ORWELL? HUH? WHY SHOULDN'T I MAKE CUTESY AESTHETIC ICONS OF THE STALIN ALLEGORY PIG???
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son-of-a-groke · 2 years
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there is a scary lack of animal farm on this app
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imdrowninginocs · 2 years
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3rd and final farm/animal rescue au bio post!
This post contains: Megumi, Michio, Kin, Etsuko, Tsutsutaka, Chikuchi, Hana, and Hitoshi
Megumi Sui
Species: Huacaya alpaca hybrid; centaur-like
-Appearance: poofy, dense, light blue wool; animal ears; human skin has a bronze skin tone; long, curly hair that is a darker shade of blue; eyes are dark brown
           - Wool color hex: #B0E0E6; Hair color hex: #7289da
-Background: a surrender case from a person who took in too many animals
No picture, just google huacaya alpaca
Michio Takenaka
Species: bull hybrid; bipedal
-Appearance: mixed breed bull; short, redish-brown fur; small horns; no animal ears
-Background: from a surrender; the owner didn’t have enough money to care for Michio anymore
Coloring is:
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Kin Teruya
Species: dwarf goat hybrid; bipedal 
-Appearance: short, gray and white mixed fur, with black legs; no horns; no animal ears; when freshly bathed, her fur can have a bit if iridescence to it
-Background: Nobuo wanted a couple of pet goats, and Kin is one of them; bought online from a farmer
Coloring is:
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Etsuko Ueno
Species: golden retriever hybrid; bipedal
-Appearance: long, well-kept, blonde hair; has dog ears
- Backstory: she was adopted from a shelter soon after Nobuo officially opened his rescue sanctuary
No picture because it’s easy to look up a golden retriever
Tsutsutaka Agoyamato
Species: angus bull hybrid; centaur-style
-Appearance: short, black hair; stocky build; no animal ears; no horns
-Backstory: Nobuo wanted a pet cow, and a family friend was looking to sell one of his bulls. Tada!
No picture, just look up black angus bull
Chikuchi Togeike
Species: berkshire pig hybrid; bipedal
-Appearance: short-ish, medium-brown fur with black blotches; has pig ears
-Background: Nobuo wanted a pet pig, and bought Chikuchi from a farmer online
Looks like this:
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Hana Hamamoto
Species: merino sheep hybrid; bipedal
-Apperance: poofy, dense, pink wool; no horns; no animal ears
-Background: From the same sanctuary as Bunji; Hana is from another farm animal shelter that was reaching max capacity. Nobuo offered to take her her off their hands.
Similar to this:
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Hitoshi Shinso
Species: cat hybrid, centaur-style
-Appearance: mixed breed; darkish-gray; solid color; medium, poofy fur
-Background: Hitoshi was stray cat that wandered onto Nobuo’s sanctuary and decided to make himself at home
This gray color:
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dilfartist · 2 months
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Just obsessed or love obsessed?
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Tw; Kidnapping, sensitive topics, Yandere behavior, Obsessive behavior, marriage mentions, abuse, physical abuse, mentions of Suicide on Yoosung’s part, mentions of death, NSFW on the end of Asmodeus’s part,
Which yanderes are actually in love with their darlings? Which yanderes simply obsess over their darlings?
Fandoms: Naruto, JJK, Demon Slayer, Death Note, JJBA, Chainsaw Man, Baruto, Obey Me, and Mystic Messenger.
Characters; Naruto, Sasuke, Sakura, Mahito, Toji, Geto, Sukuna, Douma, Tengen, Mitsuri, Akaza, Gyutaro, Muzan, Light Yagami, Chilchuck, Laios, Ascended Astarion, Dio, Kira Yoshikage, Jotaro, Josuke, Yoosung, Mammon, Asmodeus, and Denji.
Notes: {Most of these are just ramblings, sorry if they mirror each other in similarity. Not all characters from each show/movie will be on this list, just a few that came to mind.}
Reblogs and Comments are greatly appreciated!
Somewhat proofread
Reader's description; Female/GN
Obsessed
These yanderes have no love for their obsession. Although they want you for romantic purposes, they could never love you. Most of these yanderes treat you like a pet rather than an actual lover.
Mahito
Mahito sees humans as toys. Humans are there for his entertainment. Their tears, their fear, their panic, and their crys are all for his pleasure. Mahito has only managed to love the suffering of human beings.
Mahito harbors no love for his darling. Sure, Mahito favors you compared to other humans and he doesn't outright kill you or torture you, but your relationship is more like a farmer favoring one of the farm animals he’s leading to the slaughter, so he allows it to live a little longer than the others.
If you were to ask him if he loved you since he’s gone out of his way to keep you to himself and demands romantic actions out of you; he’ll respond with a laugh, finding it laughable you’d assume so.
“Love you?” Mahito giggles, “You know, I was manifested by the strong emotions of humans, but love isn’t one of them. But hey, if it makes you feel any better, you're my favorite human!”
Sukuna
Sukuna was born evil, not giving two shits about the human race he once belonged to. Love, in the eyes of Sukuna, is a feeble emotion that only exists to continue giving humans a reason for their pitiful existence and to keep their kin cared for. Those who sing songs of romance irk Sukuna. As if the human race couldn't get more irritating. Though he will admit he enjoys a good lovers quarrel. The negative emotions that cause the birth of curses and the scenes of women and men plucking out the eyeballs of their lover's hidden sweetheart in an act of rage; never fails to give him a wicked laugh.
Lust. Lust is what Sukuna feels for you. Love is nowhere in sight. Any act of love you find yourself partaking in with Sukuna isn't because Sukuna desires loving contact, but because you loathe the thought of acting this way with him. He relishes in the resentment you feel towards him. Kisses, hugs, cute nicknames, and lingering touches in favor of disturbing you. Sukuna is obsessed with you due to your enjoyable reactions. Such a scared little thing, he thinks. In a world of humans Sukuna views as insects, you are Sukuna's shivering prized chihuahua.
If you were convinced Sukuna was in love with you and asked about it, he'd laugh in your face.
"Maggots, such as the human race, invented love to maintain relevancy and keep their young alive. What else are they good for if they can only birth a few babes before their bodies break. They might as well drop dead once production is no longer available. Unfortunately for all living creatures, they continue their life spans." Sukana speaks with distaste. He leans his cheek against his fist, gazing down at you from his throne. "I find the emotion despicable. Although.." Sukana begins, lips curling into a cruel smirk, "I could think differently if it came to you, my dear pet." You don't miss the flash of amusement in his ruby eyes at the sight of your grimace.
Douma
Douma will never love anyone. Douma is stated to have no emotions but that isn’t necessarily true. Douma can feel emotions for himself, it’s others he cannot feel emotions for. Douma may have claimed to feel love towards Shinobu but Douma wanted to feel something, or at least convince himself he felt something before the end of his life. Truly Douma could never love his darling even if he tried.
Contrary to popular belief Douma does treat his darling like he loves them...50% of the time. The other half of the time he acts on his sadistic nature.
He is one of the yanderes that will kill his darling with no hesitation if he needs to. Douma will hesitate if his obsession is strong enough to dissuade him. If his darling ever dies or somehow escapes then he’ll forget about them. In his eyes, you’re replaceable since you never were loved in the first place.
“You know, (Name), I think I’m actually in love with you!” Douma would smile down at you as you sat in his lap. “Can’t you hear it! My heart flutters at the sight of you!” he’d pushed your head to his chest, “Such an exquisite feeling.” he cooed at you, hugging you closer. You scowl knowing every word from his lips is a lie. You wonder which one of you he’s trying to convince.
Ascended Astarion
Astarion before the ascension would genuinely love his Darling. And if he didn’t he wouldn’t even be with his Darling. However, if his darling allowed him to go through his accession, all his love would vanish from his body. Once a vampire spawn becomes a true vampire, they become a shell of the person they used to be.
Astarion is no longer the person you once knew. In fact, he resembles his former master in ways. His spawns, his mean attitude, his view of other people as less. It’s a sicking sight, truly. He no longer treats you as an equal. You’re a pet to him, even if he says you are his consort.
You both know Astarion doesn’t love you anymore. Yet neither of you have said a thing about it. Astarion finds it rather amusing you think he could love someone as pathic as you. His old weaker self did and he won’t repeat any actions from the past. And still, he refuses to allow you to leave his side. His darling will be reassured but they know the love of their life is no longer around.
“I love you, my dear pet. That’s what you want to hear, isn’t it?” he’d chuckle darkly at you, his tone full of mockery. You wish his words were the truth, but they’re not.
Dio Brando
Even in normal circumstances, Dio wouldn’t be able to love. During his normal life, Dio only loved the pleasure he sought in hurting others. He forced himself to act like he loved Jonathan and George Joestar, but in reality, he was only using them for his advantage. Once he turned into a creature of the night, the was no way he’d be able to love. All of his humanity, including his human emotions had been erased.
Dio’s darling is merely for his entertainment; he does not yearn for a real connection. You’re simply a pet. He’ll care for your health so you won’t die, he’ll feed you well so you won’t starve, and he’ll even buy you nice things to keep you in line. Other than those few things, he could care less about you. He enjoys keeping you around because of your reactions. You’re just so human! It disgusts him and excites him at the same time.
“Poor dear,” Dio sang cruelly as he held you in his lap. “Shivering in my lap like a lamb awaiting for the slaughter.” he’d chuckle darkly after.
Kira Yoshikage
Yoshikage never loves any of his darlings. He takes without a second thought, caring not for the person that fuels his obsession. Yoshikage may take the time to learn about his victim but after some time your fate will be the same as any other darling. Depending on which stage of Yoshikage you get that is.
You could encounter a quick death if you met Yoshikage at the start of Dimond is unbreakable. He’d be interested then when he finds the right time to kill his darling and take their hand. If you come across Kira in the middle of Dimond is unbreakable then your death will come after a while. It depends if he likes your personality since during this stage he begins to prefer knowing a woman’s personality when taking their hand. If he meets you by the end of Dimond is unbreakable then you have the most probability of living. He’d be so concerned about keeping his identity a secret he might keep you around longer and settle with befriending you instead of outright killing you.
Kira really has no love for his darling. The only care he has for his darling is keeping their hands beautiful to fuel his obsession. Kira is less obsessed with his darling and more obsessed with their hands.
“Darling you must keep yourself clean,” he’d chid, pulling out a pack of wipes to desperately clean the dirt from underneath your beautiful fingernails.
Love-Obsessed
Both their feelings and obsession grow together as they come to know you. They love and are obsessed with you. These yanderes see their darling as actual partners and do love them, unlike the obsessed yanderes.
Naruto Uzumaki
Naruto loves you with all of his being. Growing up as a boy with no family and for a short while in his childhood no friends, he yearns for a real connection. He wants to love and be loved. So when you come into the picture, he swears no harm will come to you. Even if the leaf village is at stake.
Naruto does everything he can to please you because he believes you deserve everything good that comes to you. His generosity isn’t meant to be taken as a way to manipulate you, unlike some characters. Naruto strives to keep you happy. He’ll do everything he thinks will do right by you.
Naruto sees his darling as his partner in crime. His one and only. He refuses to look at anyone else. He’ll keep you safe even if it means keeping you locked away.
“I love you more than anything, you know,” Naruto whispers to you as he snuggles up to you. “I’ll never let anything happen to you, believe it.”
Denji
Denji’s been through a lot. No one has been there to love Denji for who he really is. Everyone loves Chainsaw Man...then there's him. All of a sudden you come into his life. Dissimilar Makima or any woman in his life, you care for him. You’re genuinely kind without expecting him to do something for you. His feelings grow for you due to your kind nature.
Being Chainsaw man comes with its cons. He’s always in danger and his loved ones are always in harm's way because of him. He grows paranoid. What would become of you once it was revealed he cares for you?! He manages to pull some strings and finds a place for the both of you to live together. Sure you can’t leave but at least your are safe! Plus, Denji is a great guy who gives you everything you want.
Denji doesn’t force you to care or love him, he implies wanting your tenderness but never forces you. He loves you. He goes as far as fighting every demon in your name.
“I like you...like a lot.” Denji starts off slowly. He’s at your side, crouching to your level. His eyes show vulnerability, “...you don’t have to like me back but I won’t allow anyone to hurt you. I wish things could be different...I really do.”
Yoosung Kim
Yoosung falls in love with his darling very quickly. Originally, Yoosung fell in love with the Mc in eleven days. Instead of his obsession and love growing together, Yoosung falls in love first then his obsession begins to grow. Though Yoosung is in love with his darling he still compares them to Rika despite his darling and Rika not sharing many qualities. He loves his darling for their kindness but also because they share the comfort Rika gave him.
Yoosung doesn't care if he puts his darling in harm's way despite claiming the opposite. Yoosung loves his darling enough to be in harms way along with him. In a way it’s like a romantic double suicide
“You’ll only talk to me, right?” he’d ask. Despite this question being sent through text you could hear the question asked in Yoosung’s voice. “I love you so much, do you really think some guy like Zen could compare?”
Mitsuri kanroji
Mitsuri is heavily encouraged by love in her daily life, so of course she’d be in love with her darling. Her darling completely takes over her mind, invading every thought she has. She doesn’t see her behavior as weird or obsessive. After all, isn’t it ideal for a lover to be utterly in love and devoted to their special someone?
Her obsession and love for you grow at the same pace. She’s so in love with her darling, every action she takes is in the name of her darling. She constantly reminds her darling of her love and devotion, not caring if her darling doesn’t reciprocate.
Her obsession is fueled by the constant rejection she’s faced in her life. She’s clingy, clingy to the point you feel suffocated. She needs her darling's reassurance and will be unsettled by her darling giving anyone else praise she deems too much.
“You’re so amazing!” she’d coo at you, latched onto your right arm, batting her lashes. “I’m so glad you’re mine, (Name).” she’d hum, pushing her face into your sleeve.
Sakura Haruno
She is a very dedicated person. Despite the lack of love she received from Sasuke, she stood by his side the entire time no matter what. When she loves, she loves hard. This also applies when she begins to obsess over her darling. Even if you don’t share her feelings she will never move on. Sakura is a very persistent person, and if she truly desires something then she’ll achieve it.
Her obsessiveness comes later on when she really gets to know you. Once the obsession starts, there’s no way of getting rid of her. Her love overpowers her obsession, which is worse.
If you thought Sakura being at your hip most of the time was annoying, then your hell is with Yandere Sakura. Sakura will never leave you alone. However, you have a savor named Tsunade. Sakura listens to Tsunade with out a doubt. However, Tsunade doesn’t really care for your situation. Sakura can be annoying but she doesn’t bring harm to you. So...not her circus, not her monkeys.
“Gosh,” she’d sigh dreamily as she lay against your chest, “I’m the luckiest girl in the village, aren’t I?”
Josuke Higashikata
The king of romance himself! Josuke loves his darling dearly. Even going as far as to think twice before hurting his darling if they dare insult his hairstyle. Unlike all the others on this list, Josuke would be in love with you first before the obsession would even begin.
Josuke never lets his darling forget his love and dedication towards them. He reminds them he loves them every chance he gets.
Josuke is more normal thanks to his genuine love for his darling. However, that won’t stop him from acting on his obsession. If his darling ever found out about his obsession and attempted to leave, he’d hesitate to
“Oh, these?” Josuke would look down at the bouquet in his hands. He’d rub the back of his neck with a grin, “Just wanted to get something for the lovely girl I call my girlfriend!”
Laois Touden
You are as important as Falin is to him. His mind is full of thoughts of you. Although Laois is obsessed with you, he treats you right. He never oversteps boundaries, always makes sure not to hurt or overwhelm you, and always listens to you and your needs. If it weren’t for his unhealthy obsession, Laios would be the best boyfriend.
Laios obsesses over his darling the same way he obsesses over monsters. Laios carries a notebook full of facts about you. What monster food do you prefer? Easy! You love boiled mimics! After all, Laious put it down in his note book and Laious is dedicated to being correct about his darling.
His love goes as far as locking away his darling; If necessary that is. He’d rather explore the word with his darling. He won’t repeat allowing someone so dear to him to be hurt again. Laios nearly lost his sister and he’ll be damned if you were ever harmed.
“I don’t think I say it enough,” Laios comments completely out of the blue. You and him sit at the breakfast table, still in your midnight clothes. Laios looks at you sweetly, his chin against his palm. “I love you.”
Obsessed to Love- obsessed
These yanderes start just obsessed with their darlings with either no feelings or ignoring their growing feelings. As time goes on, they begin to fall in love with their darling.
Toji Fushiguro
Toji finds it hard to love after his late wife’s passing. So when you come into his life he’s as distant as he can be. Toji’s rude and nasty to you. Not because he dislikes you- well, not fully anyway- but because Toji can sense his attraction towards you. It scares him; it Angers him even. Toji’s had his fair share of one-night stands, feeling nothing after them besides passing sentiments of guilt because of his late wife. However, you’re different. For some reason, the fuzzy feelings he felt with his late wife have come back when he’s around you. He loathes these feelings. In a way, Toji finds this as a betrayal, and he blames you.
However, as time progresses, Toji learns to allow you in. He can’t obsess over his late wife forever. At first, he’s simply obsessed with you. Always around you, you’re constantly on his mind, keeping a tracking device on you, the usual. Then it happens. You show him genuine kindness and show you care for his well-being and it’s like a switch flipped. Toji realizes he’s in love. And instead of getting angry or distancing himself, he accepts it. Unfortunately for you, Toji’s left broken by his ex-wife’s death and you’re the new love of his life.
You’re immediately kidnapped and taken away to live with him. The one person he loved died, he will not have that happen again. Toji knows he needs a stable life to keep you around and he refuses to use another woman for her money since he finds it disrespectful to you. Toji’s gambling habits cease nearly quickly. He works for the both of you to have a stable life because he love you enough to try. Toji never outright tells you he loves you, but you can tell in the ways he acts around you.
“I’ve gotta say, you’re the biggest pain in my ass.” Toji would grumble. You both lay on the couch together, him on the bottom while you lay ontop of him with a blanket wrapped around you. His hands fiddled with your hair, one of his quiet ways to show his love.
Akaza
At first, he felt like he was betraying his first love, Koyuki. Akaza distances himself because of the guilt that consumes him. He feels so weak, which pisses him off. And he can’t help but find himself getting angry at his darling as well since you caused this weak feeling to initiate. If it weren’t for his guilt at the onset Akaza would be categorized in the love-obsessed category. Once he learns to move on and realize his feelings will not be leaving any time, then he’d be loving towards his darling.
Immediately, His darling is kidnapped. Akaza has learned from his past to always be near his loved ones; his darling wouldn’t suffer the same fate because of his carelessness. He’d keep them in a nice house deep in the forest. Akaza remembers every part of the forest just in case you attempted to run away. The house would be nice and furnished and his darling could request items to be placed into the house. It’s more of a house for his darling than a shared house.
Very loving towards his darling. If it weren’t for the circumstances, Akaza and his darling's relationship would be seen as the ideal romantic relationship. Akaza didn’t want his darling to be taken away, he’d much rather have his darling willingly. However, his trauma and immortality dissuade him.
“You’re so beautiful...” Akaza would murmur to you. You watched in the mirror as the demon brought your hairbrush back to your hair, gently going through the strands. “So beautiful, my love.” he’d press a small kiss on your shoulder blade.
Jotaro Kujo
Jotaro already has too many problems to worry about romance. Jotaro’s obsession disturbed him. He has other priorities such as saving the world from enemy stand users, yet he often finds himself thinking about you rather than the problem at hand. It becomes a problem for him. There’s even a point where he becomes annoyed by your name alone. However, as time goes on he learns to accept his feelings of obsession. Then he’ll have to accept the romantic feelings that soon follow after he accepts his obsession.
A while back, I wrote Jotaro as a yandere that would hold you captive and overall be very intimidating towards his darling. Now that I look at his character, he’s more likely to act regularly with his darling. Jotaro will come off the same as any man who has a healthy relationship with their significant other. The only reason he’d become intimidating towards his darling is because they’re trying to leave him. No matter how obsessed jotaro finds himself, he ultimately won’t force his darling by his side. Jotaro recognizes the danger he puts his darling in when they date, he realizes how selfish he is just being near you. Jotaro genuinely loves his darling, so although he does try to intimidate his darling into staying with him, he would allow you to leave if that’s what you truly wanted.
Jotaro is the type of Yandere to allow you to leave but have you on his mind ever since. There are memorabilia of yours around his house. Pictures hang upon his walls that he hasn’t bothered to take down. There’s even a framed picture of you right next to his bed.
Tengen Uzui + Wives
The Uzuis would be off put by their darling at first. Despite it traditionally being on the man’s part to decide if he wants to marry another wife, Tengen puts his wife's decisions above his. Tengen isn’t the type to simply marry someone because of a little crush or obsession. One, he needs to feel strong feelings towards someone before he considers putting a ring on it. Two, Tengen respects his wives too much to decide marriage on his own. Tengen would introduce the topic and his darling to his wives slowly, giving them a little time to decide whether to feed his obsession or not. Ultimately, Tengen gets their blessings.
Their obsessions don’t blossom until marriage. Ideally, their darling is not as strong as them. They become very protective of them, especially Tengen if this is after he retires. Time passes and they all grow to love their darling, they’re obsession turns into a love obsession. Each one of them won’t keep their hands off their darling. They are in general very touchy with each other, but with their darling, it’s times 100.
At least one of them has to accompany you. Not only to keep you safe but to make sure you never think of leaving them. They don’t mind kidnapping their darling if they need to.
“Don’t splash around so much,” Tengen complained to his other wives. They all sat in the bathtub, cleaning each other. You sat firmly in Tengen’s lap. “Stop hogging cleaning them, Suma!” Makio barks at Suma. “I am not! Lord Tengen! Makio is trying to say I’m hogging the sponge, but I’m not!” Suma whines. They were taking turns washing your body, whilst Hinatsuru washed your hair. Tengen presses a small kiss on the back of your head.
Asmodeus
When Asmodeus first met his darling he only saw them as someone he could seduce for a moment of pleasure. It isn’t until he makes a pact with his darling that his obsession begins. Sure, Solomon also has a pact with Asmodeus and he’s not obsessed with him. You’re different. You help him with problems and spend time with him. And such a cutie you are you do it no questions asked. The obsession sets in when he manages to sleep with you. It was like your body was crafted for him. It’s addicting really. Your taste, your touch, your sweet voice! He’s even considered never touching another again.
He’ll stick around you more which leads to a connection between you...or maybe just in Asmodeus’s eyes. Love, an emotion he’s only been able to share with his brothers, will develop in the time shared with you. You’ve surprised him again! Asmodueus will grow into a possessive person. Not even his brothers will have the fortune of spending time with you. Asmodeus becomes harsh with his brothers, like a cat hissing at other cats for being too close to their owner. Lucifer has to step in ever so often because Asmodeus is close to ripping out one of another demon’s eyes with his claws because they got too friendly with you.
Don’t think you can just leave him either; That isn’t an option whether it be due to your exchange coming to an end or you not wanting a relationship anymore. It just won’t happen. If you have to go back to the human world, that just won’t slide with Asmodeus. He’ll find a way to be with you. If Lucifer doesn't appeal to any of Asmodeus’s requests to keep you in Devil Dom, then he has no problem going with you. Nor does he have a problem possessing random people to see you every day. Now, ending the relationship with Asmodeus will lead to a moment of pain. A moment of pain because there is no way you’d be apart for more than a couple of months. His brothers won’t force you to be in Asmodeus’s arms nor will they stop talking to you until you give in to dating Amsodeus again, they care for you as much as they care for their brother. Nonetheless, you will have earfuls of them trying to convince you to be with Asmodeus again. Not to mention every demon in Devil Dom has been in your DMs on Devilgram. All of his adoring fans call you every name under the sun. No matter how tough your skin is their words will get to you. They even began to spread hate against humans which got the attention of both Lucifer and Diavalo. Now you’re having a conference with them, where you simply decide to go back to him. It’s better for everyone.
“Don’t you feel so much better~” Asmodeus coos to you, his fingers deep inside your cunt. “No one can make you feel as good as I can!” Asmodeus presses a trail of kisses down your neck, “No one could love you as much as i do.”
Mammon
When you first met, Mammon only saw you as an annoying human. Another task on his list that his brother put on him. Then he began to get to know you and that view quickly faded. Unlike other yanderes, Mammon fell in love quickly compared to the others. Suddenly, Mammon was proud to be your first man. So proud in fact that many reconsider his sin being greed.
Though greed is definitely his sin. He’s so greedy he won’t allow his family to take your time away from him. Mammon nearly snarls like a rabid dog at the thought of anyone stealing you away from him. If it’s his brothers then he won't have as much of a problem, he’ll complain but won’t harm them. Let another demon try the same and he won’t care if he breaks a few bones. Not even caring for Lucifer’s chiding.
His love is apparent. It’s overwhelmingly sweet, overshadowing his tough-guy act. You won’t even mind his obsession because his love delays any concerns that arise because of his actions.
“I’m your first man, so I should be your most important priority,” Mammon huffs clinging to your waist tightly. You scheduled a lunch with his brothers due to Mammon taking up your time, now you think you should cancel it. Mammon shows no sign of letting go any time soon and it’s getting harder to breath.
Chilchuck Tims
There would be no way in hell Chilchuck would allow himself to fall in love or even think of any romantic thoughts of his darling, at first. After his wife left him and took away his children, leaving him alone, he couldn’t bear the thought of another romantic relationship. His obsession starts slowly because he distances himself since he can tell he feels attracted to you.
He hates the fact he often has dreams of you or the fact he remembers your favorite foods. He especially hates it when he gets a foreign fuzzy feeling in his chest when it comes to you. He’s often rude and closed off to his darling. He comes off meaner to his darling than anyone else. It has gotten to the point the others often call him out on his behavior to which he scoffs and turns away.
It isn’t till he learns that not everyone will leave him and he can learn to be a better partner Chilchuck opens himself to being romantic with his darling. He grows to love his darling so dearly. He writes to his daughters about his darling. Even goes as far as mentioning them every chance he has to his companions.
And although he’s finally going through the process of learning to forgive himself for his divorce, he’s still paranoid. If you show any signs of leaving him, he won’t immediately lock you away but he’ll become uncharacteristically clingy. Every hour he’s snuggling closer to you, asking about your day. He even begins to stop complaining about small things you do that annoy him at times. If you are attempting to leave him, good luck. That isn’t happening. Besides Chilchuck’s small size, he’s incredibly smart when it comes to dire situations. Such as you leaving.
“I...I love you.” Chilchuck admits, his face has an expression of the first taste of sour candy. It’s almost as if the words stung the tip of his tongue each time he spoke.
Gyutaro
You’re interesting to him. Whether you’re ugly or pretty, Gyutaro envies you. Those who are attractive get to live happily without the misery of being ugly. It makes him sick. You are treated better than he was that’s for sure. But as he comes to know how kind you are to others, especially the less fortunate, he begins to obsess over you. You’re so beautiful, much more attractive than him anyway. How could he not think of you.
Gyutaro learns more about you by stalking you. He’s always around, going as far as to hide in the dark of your room in the mornings just to get more of you. Gyutaro never thought about marriage as a mortal, he was too caught up in caring for his sister and many girls never even glanced his way when it came to romance. You change his mind. He can imagine you in a beautiful wedding dress as you profess your love to him not even cringing at his ugliness.
He genuinely loves his darling. Gyutaro wishes he could have met his darling when he was a mortal, his life wouldn’t have been so depressing, and he could have even tried to find a better occupation and live a normal life with you. He’s selfish, after all, he’s faced so many hardships, why can’t he take the few things that bring him joy? No one else deserves you. Once you’ve lost your beauty, you’re better off dead than in the hands of others.
“So beautiful...gahahaha!” Gyutaro laughed manically to himself. He sat in the corner watching you closely, his hand covering his wide smile. “No one else could compare!”
Possibly love-obsessed (unsure)
These yanderes could either love their darling and never admit it or not love them at all. It depends on the situation or stage of the relationship.
Suguru Geto
(Only Non-Sorcerer Darling)
Geto believes that he could never love a Non-Sorcerer yet has an obsession with his darling. Geto felt the need to dehumanize the Human race since his change in ideology to cease any doubts he may have about his decisions. There may be a part of him deep down that isn’t fond of the idea of hurting Non-sorcerers but is too far gone to even think about ending what he started. Geto strives to protect the weak. When he was in high school he believed that the weak were Non-Sorcerers until his perspective changed to Sorcerers being the weak ones due to the Non-Sorcerers being in charge and harming the ones keeping them safe from curses. He found the acts of Non-Sorcerers to be unforgivable which is why he went to the extreme of choosing to start a genocide.
There is a part of him that despises his darling. How could some random monkey make him feel this way? It’s perplexing. Sometimes he wants to gouge out your throat and watch as the light fades from your eyes to give him the pleasure of his original ideology: All Non-Sorcerers should be terminated. Yet he cannot bring himself to put the plan into action. Especially when you’ve been such a good pet and listen to his every command. He won’t admit that he craves to be around you. He loves holding you tight as you both drift to sleep, he loves the sweet kisses that he forces out of you, and he loves the way you moan out his name. A filthy monkey shouldn’t have the pleasures of indulging in his greatness, yet he refuses to kill his darling.
Even Geto doesn’t know if he loves his darling. He’s adamant he only sees his darling as his pet, but deep down he might love his darling. Though that would never come to light.
“You’re a good pet. Always listening and obeying my commands.” Geto comments as he reads his daily newspapers. You brush his hair quietly, focusing on the raven strands gently pulled by the bristles of the brush. “Good. Just as all monkeys should.”
Sasuke Uchiha
It isn’t that Sasuke is incapable of loving because he definitely loves the people in his life. However, he is too emotionally immature to truly love his darling. He yearns for their touch and love but he can’t for the life of him reciprocate the affection.
Sasuke has forgotten the feeling of love since It had been ripped away from him at such a young age. He assumes his love for things in his life is just extreme liking them. Sasuke extremely likes tomatoes and Sasuke extremely likes talking walks but the word love never seems to come to mind. If anything he just won't admit it to himself. He can love.
It won’t be until when Baruto begins that Sasuke is finally classified as Love-obsessed. He’s more truthful to others and himself. He can finally admit he’s in love with his darling...to himself. In Baruto, Sasuke is more open to being vulnerable around his loved ones and even tries his best to repair relationships with advice from Kakashi.
“I care about you...” Sasuke would say, not daring to look you in the eyes. “...a lot,” he adds in awkwardly.
Light yagami
Many believe Light to have no love for anyone, for whatever reason. However, this is not the case. Light's love for his family is one of the main reasons he decides to become Kira. Or what he believes to be justice. Light started out wanting to be a cop because his father was a cop and Light wanted to bring justice to the world. Light wants the world filled with good and his family surrounded by good instead of unjustified evil. The reason he’s so cruel to Misa and even uses her to his advantage is that he never shared these feelings in the first place. Misa forced him into a relationship with her and didn’t seem to mind him not wanting it. He’s very different with his darling.
I put him on this list because there are two ways Kira could feel about his darling. One, he’d be obsessed with them but wouldn’t love them. This would happen if they were involved in the Kira case and Light would obsess over them because of it. Two, his darling is a random citizen who shares his feelings and judgment, and Light loves his darling dearly.
Even if Light truly cares for you, he won't admit it because of his focus on the Kira case.
Muzan kibutsuji
For Muzan to care about his Darling, they would have to have certain qualifications. One, they knew of Muzan before he transitioned into the first demon. Two they either could relate to Muzan’s past as a human or they didn’t have any judgment towards Muzan because of his sickly appearance. These are a few situations that would lead to Muzan's obsession. Once Muzan turned he had past wives who killed themselves because of his cruelness. Muzan had no feelings toward them which is why Muzan would be more likely to love or care about his darling if he had known them before his change.
If Muzan’s darling had none of these traits then Muzan would be purely obsessed with his darling. Muzan would need a connection with his darling. There is a slim chance his darling could win over his true affection, but the chance of it happening is nearly impossible.
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bogleech · 4 months
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Could I mayhaps know what's the name of that arachnid field guide you have 0//0 it looks really pretty and I have. A thirst for all arachnid related field guides and biology books, love those critters
The Golden Guide to Spiders and their Kin! There were lots of them, originally made in the 60's or 70's I believe, and they used to still be so common when I was a kid - still in print, and sold for just a couple dollars everywhere - I thought everybody had a few! But now they seem to be forgotten.
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I had the spiders one, insects one and "seashores" one (mantis shrimps and nudibranchs!!) before I could even read, just looking at the pictures all day. As I learned to read they were how I learned concepts of taxonomy and ecology, why I knew what a "parasitoid" was in first grade and I'd talk constantly about insects that aren't really RARE, but culturally most people never heard about. These books made things like velvet ants, bolas spiders and hairy millipedes seem to me like knowledge as ordinary as dogs and cats.
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That "pests of animals" page in particular is why I knew there were wingless parasitic flies, and I thought that was so cool, I was obsessed with "SHEEP KED" for my entire childhood. This bug that nobody ever heard of when I mentioned it, but was at one time deemed worthy of inclusion in an everyday field guide. And they include "duck louse" as an animal pest you're expected to encounter. Sheep and duck parasites?!.....Oh, right! When these books first published, it was still commonplace for almost everyone to have experience with farm animals. Most people at least had grandparents or aunts and uncles with a farm they might visit and help out on. Of course they would encounter sheep and duck parasites. I think they still publish these, actually, I'm sure I still saw them in Barnes and Noble only a few years ago, but it's remarkable what a different America they were made under. My old copy even recommended DDT to control bed bugs....they did eventually edit that out in newer editions.
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Some of their attitudes may be outdated here and there, and they're only intended for North American wildlife, but I think the golden guides might still be perfect introductions to their topics for anyone, anywhere of any age really?? They're such well-balanced overviews so densely packed with just the most essential information about each organism.
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....Did people really ever just call tree frogs "hylas?!" It's one of their genus names, but was it also used as a common name anywhere? That's a cute idea. Maybe it was, briefly, so at some point to someone there was a concept of Frog, Toad, and Hyla?
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frogchiro · 8 months
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omg wait kin
what animal would hybrid! yuri be?
im imagining a weasel or a mink (I had to look up the difference because they look the same 😭)
i imagine yuri follows behind makarov when he goes and tries to pursue kitty!reader and can't help but roll his eyes at makarov's failed attempts and watches from afar as he chased off the farm by the guard dogs
yuri probably also enjoys chatting up guard dog!soap, thinking how gullible that mutt can because what's a weasel gonna do to harm the farm's precious kitty?
-- 🛸
Yuri is rolling his eyes so hard they hurt, he's actually surprised how Makarov failed to get to the rumored pretty kitty hybrid he wanrs so bad; this pup is basically starry eyed when the older marten (it's basically a large and more aggressive weasel that can take down animals bigger than itself bc it's so stealthy and it goes for the neck) is chatting him up, his long, fluffy tail swishing behind him as the excitable mutt, Soap, is almost vibrating with how excited he is. What is he so happy about? Yuri has no idea, but he guesses his low, deep voice and that lidden eyed look in his eyes has that effect on others.
At first he didn't really know what the big deal was about you, just some barn cat the big boss is seemingly crazy over so Yuri decided to take a look himself-and oh boy he wasn't dissapointed at all, in fact he quite liked what he was seeing.
Yuri would definitely not play fair, playing the concerned fellow of Makarov, chuffing at the guard dogs but the moment he sees an opening where the mutts are actually chasing the fox away he slips in and slides in all quiet and charming over to you, his deep purr intriguing you and while skittish you don't yowl for help, instead you get closer and sniff at him.
Yeah, Yuri thinks that he will join Makarov more whenever he will go and visit this lovely farm♡
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creatureheart · 5 months
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PSA: Be careful where you send your donations/money - Save A Fox
( PT: PSA: Be careful where you send your donations/money - Save A Fox )
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----
I wanted to make a post because of seeing a certain controversial organization run as an animal rescue being presented as a good place to donate to on a post about buying and finding real tails as gear in the community. The organization being Save A Fox or SAF.
While there is no ill will against the original poster of the otherwise good post about looking for tails and how certain sites can falsely advertise real tails as fake ones, it would be a disservice to the community to not bring up the known problems with this rescue, if one could even call it that.
It is not a secret that the owner of this group, who claims to be against fur farming, will go out of her way to buy foxes from fur farms, in doing so giving money to the farms she says she is so thoroughly against — including on the same day that one of her other foxes died.
From the information that has been gathered on this organization, it is agreed by many that it is basically, as another user put it, "an animal hoarding situation with good PR".
All these blogs below have tags on Save A Fox and the things that have happened to the animals under their care. Please also be aware that these linked tags talk about animal death, animal injury, bad animal husbandry in caring for wild animals, admittance and promoting of taking and keeping animals from the wild when it is illegal, and other things that may be distressing:
@/whats-this-mustelid - Tag Here
@/is-the-fox-video-cute - Tag Here
@/is-the-owl-video-cute - Tag Here
Wanting to help and save animals, our kin, is a large part of the community, but just like with finding tails, research into what organizations you support is necessary as to make sure that your money is going towards something that is reputable and practicing the best animal welfare it can.
One can start by looking into local rescues and shelters to your area, and being sure to thoroughly research groups and organizations you may find both on and offline.
Thank you for reading or listening.
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citizenoftmrrwlnd · 1 year
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self care for : an angora goat kid with no makeup
x | x | x x | - | x x | x | x
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escaronarts · 10 months
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Once there was a man, a wealthy and highly reputable farmer. He owned a grand farm with many different kinds of animals, but you see, he wasnt kind to any of them. He often yelled, hit and kicked them, many a time out of amusement. Eventually the spirits of the land grew angry, warning the man to stop. Not once nor twice, but many times, over and over. But the man didnt listen, he simply didnt care, just carried on in his deranged ways. And one day it went to far, one day a goat ended up dead. That day the farmer went to sleep unravelled and cold hearted as always, for what did he care about a stupid goat? But the next morning there was no man anymore. The spirits had lost their temper once and for all, and from that day onward a monster roamed the woodlands. At first, in panic and despair the monster had tried to reach out to his once kin, the people in the nearest village, but they had screamed and ran in fear, they had hunted him down to kill, some had even tried to catch and chain him up. The monster continously tried to plead to them, tried to make them understand, tried to speak. But no words would come over his lips ever again, only rasping breath and broken bleats.
Traditionally handmade and ooak (one of a kind). Original design (as always) and fully posable, even the wings (every part). Would you dare to adopt him?
More pics will come…
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yawarakaizai · 1 year
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pmzai with an equally miserable s/o fem reader
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ⵌ IT'S NOT YOUR FAULT
SENDER Reader (Fem) RECIPITENT PM Dazai Osamu (BSD) CONTENTS You sit and stare and wait for him to return to you. You've been bad and you've been good. There's nothing and no one that gives you purpose like he. NOTE reader+dazai are 17/18, implications of s/h, slight misogyny, death of parent, it's kind of angsty.. , soft couple, miserable couple, sui/cide mention+ideation COMPANY I'm Not Human At All
A/N ʚ₍ᐢ. .ᐢ₎ɞ th is wa s har d to make b ecause i h ad sOOO OO m any ide as an d my playli st wa s feelin g good an d kept pla y ing song s th at g ave me diff fic ide as ;; th is is sad ,,, i do nt like sa d fics bu t ,,, this is kin d of a ven t? hehe FEE L FREE TO REQ UEST MOR E!
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Your tender heart would care for an injured bunny rescued from a bear trap.
You'd nurse the animal as best you could yet it would always die.
Your father was a hunter. He earned your living costs by selling animal hide and what meat he'd have spare after covering what you'll need. Your mother died when you were a little girl.
You were as sweet as your mother.
Your father would tell stories of how She would gaze out on the winter sky and say to Herself, "My daughter will be as snow. Gentle and graceful, yet freezing to those who demand more of what perfect she is already."
When your Mother died, they put Her in a box full of pink carnations and orchids. Surely to counteract the smell of Her decaying corpse, to display Her flesh as something beautiful before her descent under soil to where Her bones will return and fertilise what surrounds.
Rural life in Japan was not for the weak. Which you were.
You picked up what your Mother left behind.
Tending to the chickens in their coops and shearing the sheep, you'd milk the cows and free the rabbits when Father wasn't looking.
Your hands plush with baby fat would clench around your rosary every night and pray like a good girl.
By the time you reached puberty, your features resembled your Mother more than ever before. Your figure changed and as did your father.
He'd sneer at the dress that fit you perfectly just two years ago. You'd become defiant and bold, a rebellious child.
" Father, but why? "
Your protests and argumentative nature would anger him. And now, you weren't a good girl.
Shouting battles always left you sobbing into thick pillows until your throat hurt.
It was at the age of fifteen did you find out what lies beneath your thin flesh and blue pulse.
You are made of bright crimson and spite.
At sixteen, you ran away.
It was impulsive. You forgot how and what happened. You don't want to remember.
Your calves ached and your feet blistered with pain from trudging up and down hills and farms.
You are a mixture of love and loss.
Everything is a blur, and sometimes you question whether running away was the wisest thing to do.
You had collapsed the moment you stepped foot into the city.
A sad, lost soul who ran away from her father.
You had been a..
" Very bad girl. "
The voice startled you enough for you to spill the batter all over your clean white apron.
" Osamu! " You cried out in disbelief, the boy laughing hysterically. " That isn't funny, knock it off. "
In a way, Dazai reminded you of those bunnies you'd rescue in your youth. He was caught and wounded by the claws of Life. And although you may cup his cheeks into your hands and tell him 'You're alive', he had already died before you were able to cradle him to your chest.
" I told you not to wake up early, Y/N! I should have known to not mention my fondness of crêpes to you. "
You felt untamed, wild hair brush against the bare of your neck before soft lips made contact with your jawline. A soft kiss pressing into what was cold. He was grateful to have you in his sad miserable life.
And even if you two were not perfect for each other, you'd both die to watch the world burn.
" I did it on my own accord. " You lied. " You did not. " He calls your bluff like air. You huff in surrender.
Setting down the metal bowl of paste, you turn to face him. You think of the horrors that his empty, black eye must have seen. His other eye, obscured by bandages, was a mystery to you. You respected him enough to not budge him about it.
" I wished to make you something special. "
You confess, certain he already knew your intention. Your boyfriend was simply smarter than many.
" I don't need anything. Coming home to you is enough, bella. '' His hand stretches to you like death.
Your eyes were not as bright as they were when you were little. They reflected the bad girl that you've become. The one that left her sickly impoverished father in treacherous conditions alone because her feelings were hurt.
" Belladonna. "
He'd pull you back into reality when he'd notice you slipping.
" 'samu. You've barely been coming home anymore, okay? Let me do this, just this once for you. " You snaked your arms around his waist and he mirrored your action, twirling you both out of the kitchen.
Dazai was inexplicable to you. He was a man your father wouldn't like. A man your Mother would hate. A man your younger self would despise.
You willingly moved into a shared apartment with the mafia executive after a few months of living in Yokohama. It was him to have picked you up from the streets. Sensing you were worth more than the muddied appearance you showed at that time.
Your one-time use turned into a second-time use, and your second-time use blossomed like a flower in Spring. You interested him.
You both intoxicated each other. Dazai was able to make you feel light. You felt weightless and as fragile as a butterfly. Weak, small and at his mercy.
" Then don't hide yourself away from the kitchen when I'm right here, love. "
By the time your spinning head focused on what was around you again, he had toppled you both onto the living room couch. He loomed over you, fully dressed in his mafia uniform, his stupid tie obscuring your vision until he tucked it between the buttons of his revere blouse.
" What would you do if I were to die? "
" Osamu. Stop that. "
You muttered.
You feel his life. The warmth of his body, the tender flow of blood heating his body as his finger traced patterns into your cheek. Your heart keeps beating.
" Answer me, Y/N. "
You didn't enjoy thinking of your partners demise. You wouldn't mind if you were to die.
The problem was, you didn't want to be alive for your boyfriends funeral, yet you didn't wish for your boyfriend to be alive for yours.
You loved each other to the point it became hate. Hate for how the other made living seem worth it.
Dazai had an eventful life. You did not.
You had no education whatsoever. According to the government, you did not exist. You had no birth certificate. You were no one. You lived hidden in this cramped apartment.
When Dazai was away, it was only you and your thoughts. Your thoughts were a dangerous thing.
" I think I would kill myself too. "
Your voice caught up on an unexpected crack. You were puzzled until your vision became glassy.
" Pretty baby. I'm sorry. " His apology was belated as you'd already begun to sniffle, he lowered his weight on you, turning to lay on his side as he pulled you in close, coaxing you into silence.
" Don't die, 'samu. Not here, not now. " Your sad little beg mused him.
Dazai was all you had left. You were most certain that if you were to part, you would die.
With Dazai, you were still inadequate. Without Dazai, you truly were nothing but a walking corpse.
He thinks that you are something weak and soft, with a fire raging in you that cried to be extinguished before it could spread.
You hush yourself to enjoy the feeling surrounding you. You feel Dazai's ribcage rise with each steady breath he takes. The beating of a heart is somewhere far deep in, and yours is jumping in your throat.
" Not now. " He repeated after you, and part of you wished to believe it.
There was something mystical about Osamu.
Something that warned you to not feed coal to the flame.
And that if you reached your hand in, you'd burn yourself on what was forbidden.
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©yawarakaizai 2023 ﹒﹒ reblogs appreciated! requests open :3
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sotwk · 1 year
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Food and Agriculture in Thranduil's Kingdom
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It's unfortunate that Thorin's Company was welcomed as dinner guests in Rivendell but imprisoned as invaders in Mirkwood. Had Thorin just shown King Thranduil just a little bit more respect, they could have been fed a whole lot better by the Silvans. And there would most definitely have been meat!
While the Rivendell elves seem to lean vegetarian, and Lothlorien's culinary specialty is the "one bite" lembas, the elves of Greenwood know more than a thing or two about indulgent feasting. These elves consider themselves permanent residents of their land, and with that outlook comes an attitude of celebrating Middle-earth's bounties.
The Silvans of the Woodland Realm have always been fond of feasting, merry-making, and community and family traditions centered around food. Furthermore, they are ruled by a King and royal family who whole-heartedly support this culture, participate in it themselves, and encourage trade that allows the realm to access food from other lands.
When it comes to food, the Greenwood elves are actually more alike Dwarves and Hobbits than they are the lofty High Elves.
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Below the cut are SotWK headcanons regarding Food and Agriculture in the Woodland Realm:
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Food, Cuisine, and Agriculture in the Woodland Realm
Prior to the establishment of the Woodland Realm and in the early reign of King Oropher (c. SA 700), the Silvan Elves populating Greenwood lived in smaller communities spread throughout the vast forest, but predominantly in the southwest, closer to their kin in Lorinand. Limited subsistence farming was practiced by a few, but by far most food at this time was obtained through hunting and gathering. The rich and bountiful Greenwood had always provided more than enough resources for its dwellers.
GATHERING
Greenwood Elves happily spend most of their immortal lives within Eryn Galen and the lands of Rhovanion, so they are accustomed to living off solely what the forest produces, and their diet is influenced largely by it.
The most commonly foraged edibles are:
Nuts: hazelnut, pecan, walnut, hickory, beechnut, chestnut
Fruit: plum, apple, grape, persimmon
Berries: mulberry, blackberry, currant, elderberry, raspberry
Wild garlic and ramps
Fungi: mushrooms and truffles of many varieties
Eggs: from various wild birds
Herbs and Spices: fennel, corn mint, dandelions, ground elder, pigweed, cicely, sorrel, hogweed, stinging nettle, watercress, wild carrot, rowan, wood avens, sneezewort
Maple: sourced for sugar and syrup
There are also hundreds of plant species native only to Greenwood and Rhovanion that are valued for their uses in healing. However, the Silvan herbalists of Greenwood are usually the only ones able to effectively extract the curative properties of these plants, indicating a connection between Elves and homeland may be necessary for the healing to work.
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Art from Fantasy Flight Games
HUNTING
Greenwood Elves are expert hunters and trackers, with unparalleled mastery within their forest and the lands that surround its borders. With careful consideration and instinctual knowledge of the forest ecosystem, they select their prey according to what's most populous, and rotate as necessary to balance out conservation levels.
Among the animals they hunt regularly for meat consumption are rabbit, squirrel, duck, turkey, quail, weasel, racoon, boar, deer, wild oxen, and elk. On rare or special occasions, they hunt less common game such as lion and bear. They also obtain fish and freshwater mussels, clams, and snails from the Forest River and various streams.
It is illegal in Greenwood to hunt or kill specific animals that are declared a protected species, including the King's Elk (the breed of Thranduil's war elk), the silverwolf, and all species of eagle or falcon.
Any fauna or fauna may also be temporarily decreed off-limits for hunting or gathering, by order of the Elvenking and his council.
Any animal taken in as an elf's pet or familiar may also not be killed, so long as it has been properly tamed and does not pose a risk to others.
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Throughout the Second Age, the Woodland Realm's population steadily increased under the wise rule of King Oropher and his court. As the communities and villages that made up the kingdom grew larger and more numerous, the practice of agriculture became more widespread to bolster the realm's food supply.
In the Woodland Realm, farming would always remain secondary to hunting and gathering due to the preference of Silvans for wild game and native vegetation. Farmed products serve primarily to enhance cuisine, supplement large feasts, provide reserves in case of war or famine, and as goods for trade with other realms.
FARMING and LIVESTOCK
Tracts of community farmlands were gradually cultivated in the arable fields between Greenwood's western borders (near the capital of Amon Lanc) and the Anduin River.
In order of output, the food crops most commonly grown are: wheat, barley, oats, potatoes, carrots, tomatoes, lettuce, peppers, and peas.
Fiber crops grown for cloth, paper, and rope include: flax, hemp, and cotton.
Domesticated animals are raised in small numbers solely for their by-products and not their meat. In order of importance, livestock that are raised are:
Sheep: source of wool and milk
Chickens: source of eggs
Cows: source of milk and for birthing calves
Animals raised for labor include:
Horses: highly valued and raised exclusively for transport and mounted cavalry
Oxen: used as beasts of burden (large-scale/community work)
Donkeys: used as beasts of burden (small-scale/family work)
When Prince Thranduil built his own palace of Bar Lasgalen just south of the Old Forest Road (which would later become the new capital upon his ascension to the throne), he helped the Silvans residing in the valleys of the Emyn Duir to initiate small-scale agriculture, which encouraged further migration into that area and northward towards the Grey Mountains.
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Elvish historians refer to the first millennium of the Third Age as the "Golden Age of the Woodland Realm". During these years, the kingdom enjoyed an unbroken peace under a wise King and Queen who also had five sons actively involved in the governance of the realm.
Departing from his father's more isolationist leanings, Thranduil encouraged trade with realms across Middle-earth. It included all the races except for Hobbits, since the Shire did not yet exist prior to the darkening of Greenwood.
Sadly, most trade came to a stop by the end of the Third Age, with the exception of the nearby Dale, due to the struggles with Dol Guldur. However, after Erebor was reestablished by King Thorin, trade gradually resumed with the Dwarves. After the War of the Ring and the Cleansing of Dol Guldur, Eryn Lasgalen once again thrived with renewed relations with their trade partners--finally including the Shire!
AGRICULTURAL TRADE
The Woodland Realm's three most valuable exported agricultural products are:
Rare spices
Mushrooms and truffles
Medicinal herbs (extremely valuable but highly controlled to prevent misuse)
Imported goods are considered luxuries and not necessities, and are brought in seasonally for community feasts and celebrations (of which there are many). Everything is meant for the consumption of all the kingdom's citizens, regardless of status; there is never anything reserved as "special" for the royals or nobles.
The top agricultural imports, usually from realms/communities of Men, are:
Wine
Textiles (silk, cotton)
Seafood
Sugar
Cheeses
ARTISAN COOKS and BAKERS
Exposure to outside realms and cultures also resulted in an expansion of the culinary arts within Thranduil's kingdom. Cooking and baking became full-blown, respected and sought-after professions instead of tasks done within individual households. With the King's support, talented Elves were sent to other realms to learn their culinary practices; chefs from other kingdoms were invited to Greenwood as royal guests to do the same.
A few culinary feats and innovations the Woodland Elves became known for:
Use of offal (innards) in recipes that actually taste fantastic, thanks to seasonings and skilled cookery
Using literally every single part of a butchered animal with zero waste
Aphrodisiacs in common food recipes, using plant ingredients (partly responsible for their marriage and birth rates and large families)
Salted game meat (jerky) that is highly nourishing and excellent for travel; essentially a meat version of lembas
The use of whipped egg whites to make essentially a type of meringue--which opened up an entire category of desserts that became staples at feasts
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Bonus Fun Headcanons! (as a thank you for reading this far)
Mealtimes in Thranduil's Family
No one can beat Ada in drinking contests, ever; it has been attempted hundreds of times--usually with Dorwinion wine--and Thranduil has never been dethroned by his sons.
The King and every single one of the Princes are all heavy eaters, and everyone, including the Queen, eats meat.
While they all observe formal manners at the table, the Princes can get rowdy when not in the presence of their mother--especially when there's drinking involved. (Not quite as bad as Thorin's Company, but close.)
Breakfast: Taken individually in their own rooms, according to each one's schedule/leisure
Lunch: The most commonly skipped meal; usually taken "on the go", and oftentimes with people outside of the family (e.g. business lunches, lunch with friends)
Dinner: The family meal. Everyone is expected to sit down and eat dinner with the rest of the family, unless traveling or there is a prior commitment that takes precedence.
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Random Fun Food Facts with the Thranduilions
The Princes regularly compete to see who can eat the most exotic/"disgusting" food items. Turhir remains champion at this (able and willing to eat literally everything), with Legolas frequently trying (and constantly failing) to unseat him.
They have also competed to see who can eat the riskiest (aka poisonous) food items. Arvellas has somehow proven to be the most impervious to natural poisons, much to Gelir's frustration.
Legolas can go the longest without eating food, but no one really cares to try to beat his record.
Mirion is the heaviest eater, but is also the fastest, and because he has flawless table manners no one really notices.
Gelir can find truffles just using his sense of smell--yes, like a truffle pig. He has successfully trained other similarly gifted Elves to do the same.
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For more Thranduil/Mirkwood headcanons: SotWK HC Masterlist
Tolkien Headcanon tag list: @quickslvxr @laneynoir @auttumnsayshi @achromaticerebus @tamryniel @friendofthefellowshipsnerdblog @blueberryrock @aduialel @glassgulls @ladyweaslette @klytemnestra13 @creativity-of-death @heilith @fizzyxcustard @absentmindeduniverse @lathalea @tamurilofrivendell @jordie-your-local-halfling @ladyk8tie @scyllas-revenge @asianbutnotjapanese @conversacomsmaug @lemonivall @ratsys @a-world-of-whimsy-5 @entishramblings @stormchaser819 @freshalmondpandadonut
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coyote-swims · 3 months
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(domestic) equestrian alterhuman tips!!
hii! i'm grey, and i volunteer on a horse ranch. that means several days a week i'm around horses for probably close to 5 hours each day. i'm here to give you some tips related to things i've learned working with domestic horses! most of the horses i work with are either show or just plain domestic.
info under the cut!
1. Food
most of the horses on the ranch i work on eat either something called Gro Strong 33, ADM, senior feed, alfalfa, or a mix of these.
most of these are pellet-shaped, or shaped like a long, skinny cylinder. certain cereals can look like this, and if you're a domestic horse therian/kin/whatever, maybe try eating cereal like this!
many horses on the ranch also get supplements, most of which are just powders than range from a green color to tan to white. it gets mixed in with their feed, which they eat dry. you could, IF SAFE, mix vitamin powder or supplements into the feed/cereal
a few horses on the farm get their food soaked, so it's soft and easy to eat (ex. the seniors do, and a horse named Ethan who choked once does) this makes the food like a mush, and it gets soft and squishy. soaking cereal in your desired whatever could recreate this!
2. Gear
almost year round (expect for winter), most horses wear some kind of fly gear: most of the time either a mask or a blanket.
fly masks, which cover most of the horses face (their ears, eyes, side of face, and nose) are to protect from flies irritating them and biting them. the portion over their eyes is normally mesh. a normal face mask could help recreate this feeling, but it's not ideal. i'm not sure how you could recreate a fly mask tbh
fly blankets, which lay over their back and strap under their belly, are so flies don't irritate their backs. i've only met two animals that normally wear fly blankets, a mule named Duke who was allergic to flies, and a clydesdale who stayed at the barn for one night while traveling. this is pretty easy to recreate, just tie some sort of fabric to your back with the knot on your belly
some horses wear things called bell boots. these are bell shaped things that cover their hooves so they don't throw their shoes (their shoes fall off and get lost). any kind of this that has elastic around your ankles and kind of splays our over your foot can mimic this :)
most horses typically only wear shoes if they live on rough, rocky terrain, to protect their hooves from injury. any horse can wear shoes, though. it's just more common for ones that live on rocky terrain to have shoes. metal sole shoes or hard sole shoes can mimic the feeling of wearing horseshoes :)
thanks for reading! i may update this as needed. feel free to correct me if any of this is incorrect :)
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special appearance from Lady the horse
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the-whatcherof-89 · 2 months
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Geminitay Aka Mrs Crystal Sunrise . 
Aasimar (Agathion Blooded) Ranger (Horse Lord)10 Hinterlander 10 XP307,200
Neutral Good Medium Humanoid (Outsider, Aasimar) Perception
HP193(20D10+100)
AC40(+10Dex+4Shield+5Natural+5Deviation+6Armor)
BaB+17/12/7 CMB+21 CMD+41
Tay Twinned Piercer+33/28/23 1D8+9 Living steel longspear+24/19/14 1D8+7
FORT+20 REFL+25 WILL+16
Racial traits: Outsider, +2 to Handle animal and Survival, 1/day Summon nature’s ally II CL16, Deer horns, Celestial resistances 5 (acid, cold, electric), Darkvision 60ft.
Traits: Naive, Speech of the wilds(Draconic)
Class abilities: Favored enemies(Undead, Illagers, Orcs), Combat style feats(Mounted archery, Sprinted charge, Mounted skirmisher), Endurance, Favored terrains(Water, Underground), Hunter's bond(Horse), Woodland stride, Swift tracker, Evasion, Favored enemy+4(Aberrations, Monstrous humanoids), Fast movement, Favored terrain(Hinterland)+4, Master archer(Rapid shot, Manyshot, Shot on the run), Hinterland stride, Chosen kin 60ft, Defended earth+4, Imbue arrow, Waymarker travel.
STR18 DEX30 CON20 INT16 WIS16 CHA12
Feats: Weapon focus(longbow), Mounted archery, Craft wondrous items, Brew potions, Vital strike, Improved vital strike, Endurance, Point blank shot, Precise shot, Divine interference.
Skills: Climb+13, Craft(Stone and metal)+26, Escape artist+18, Handle animal+26, Heal+11, Knowledge (Dungeon)+11, (Geography)+26, (Nature)+16, (Religion)+11, Perception+26, Profession(Engineer)+16, Ride+23, Spellcraft+11, Stealth+23, Survival+18, Swim+17.
Languages: Common, Celestial, Sylvan.
SpellcastingCL16 DC13 Spells per day 5/4/4/2
Equipment: Vigilant mithral padded armor+5 of Greater fire energy resistance, Darkwood shield+2, Necklace of natural armor+5, Ring of protection+5, Tay twinned piercer(Composite STR+4 longbow+5 with the Bane property against: Dragons, Constructs, Aberrations and Monstrous humanoids), 50+5 Arrows, Living steel returning long spear+3, Belt of physical perfection+6, Cloak of resistance+5, Bracers of archery(Greater), Headband of mental Prowess(INT WIS Geography), Boots of speed, Shadow falconeer’s glove, Ring of sacred mistletoe, Manual of quickness of action+5(used), Wand of cure critical wounds, Handy haversack, Ranger kit, Potions(2 Cure critical wounds, 2 Invisibility), Leather helmet shaped like Jack o’ Lantern pumpkin(worth 100GP), 20GP.
TAYLOR - Animal Companion - Deathtouched Horse
Initiative+4 Speed 50ft
HP8d8+32(64) AC29(+8Natural+2Dex+10Armor-1Size) Attacks: Hooves 1D6+4 Bite 1D4+4.
Racial: Low-light vision, Darkvision 60ft, Scent.
Class: Improved evasion, Ability score increase (+2Str +2 Dex +1 Wis), Multiattack, Dead sight, +4 vs trip CMD, Negative energy affinity, One foot in the grave.
Str 18 Dex 14 Con 18 Int 2 Wis 12 Cha 6 BaB9 Saves +7/5/3
Feats: Armor proficiency x3 (light, medium, heavy).
Skills: Perception+12, Survival+10, Swim+12
Tricks: Guard, Attack, Defend, Seek, Work, Fetch, Down, Come, Charge.
Equipment: Horsemaster’s saddle, Horseshoes of a zephyr, Greenwood banded mail barding+3 of fire resistance, Steadfast gutstone, Bit and bridle, Military saddle with bags and 10 rations.
Background: GeminiTay also known as Gem is a gentle, kind and nature-loving member of the inhabitants of the far land known for his Hermits. She has a passion for nature, hence her constructions are often green and full of animals. Gem was decorating her house and garden like any other day waiting for an eventual prank of the other Hermits (which she likes); suddenly she heard a voice calling upon her: “Your friends are in danger.” She stopped. “Who? Impulse, is that you?” No one was around, she searched all the surrounding area but no one was found. “Young girl, your friends are in danger, you can save them but to reach them you are going to need my help.” Gem was stunned “In danger?! Impulse! Pearl! Grian! Mumbo! Scar! ……!” She kept yelling their names as she was rushing toward their homes. No one answered. She went to the various farms and structures… No one was there. She was ALONE. “Oh, dear! where are the others?! What have you done?” She shouted. “I did nothing, some were tricked, some accepted a mission, some answered a greater call. I offer the latter. Help me so i can save your friends.” Gem was skeptical but the alternative was being TRULY alone knowing that the others were god knows where. “Ok, but you need to explain…!” She couldn’t finish the sentence as the world changed around her and she was on her trusty skeletal horse equipped with new items close to a village under attack from a group of Illagers. “First, extinguish the flames of conquest. Then come find me. I will wait where the land is truly green.” Gem looked at the village in flames and the vandals hitting the doors with axes. “And they say women thinks too much…!” And she spurred her horse nocking in the first arrow.
I DO NOT OWN THESE IMAGES, BELOW ARE THE LINKS TO WHERE I FOUND THEM:
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starryficsfinishwen · 10 months
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✧!。◟[NSFW] ʟᴇ ᴘᴇᴛɪᴛ ᴄʜᴀᴘᴇʀᴏɴ ʀᴏᴜɢᴇ — Von Negut x reader [PGR]
[ doubles as Halloween and 100 150 followers special! ]
“Bonjour, petite fille... Pourquoi marches-tu dans la forêt toute seule?”
a.n. - why does Tumblr have no option to react to comments LOL I'd like to thank the ones who reacted to the previous post and motivated me to make this one happen! I'M SORRY AGAIN FOR BEING SO LATE. I have finals in one-two weeks but hi I'm here LOL I also haven't edited this yet, I still have stuff to write notes and study but YOLO This was also planned to be the 100 followers special but yall. it grew to 150 already LMAO Im so thankful, thank u!!!!!!!!!!!!!
pairing - Wolf!Von Negut x f!human
words - 7,522
warnings - MINORS DO NOT INTERACT. NSFW THEMES: virginity loss, corruption kink. blood and murder is involved. dubcon. mentions of murder. cunnilingus. porn with plot LOL
special mention - banners belong to @/saradika!
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Your mother warned you not to stray from the path.
In your little town, the one you've grown up in, dense green foliage covers the borders. During springtime, flowers and pollen would fill your noses, and the sun is kind to let your laundry dry faster. In summertime, the trees give off cool air for you to sleep in late into the morning. Orange leaves that fall to the ground become the children's plaything, when autumn drenches your little town in cinnamon brown and orange hues. However, in the winter...
“Another victim!” cried out an elderly man as he wrapped the dead body in a thin sheet of cloth, “dear God!”
Townsfolk would gather around the center of the town square, as a dead body mauled to death would appear once a week during winter. Blood and broken bones paint the cobblestone, signaling the beginning of yet another cold winter.
You bring your red cape closer to your neck, the winter air shivering you to the bones. You look away at the horrendous sight of the dead body by the fountain, to which you've known the victim was once your playmate during your childhood years.
“It's those damned wolves!” one of your neighbors proclaimed, unsheathing his sword from his scabbard, “we must hunt them down while it's daylight!”
A murmur erupted amongst the crowd. Wolves— wild creatures that were the king of the woods. However, they are feral in nature, and they are unkind; they murder everything they see and soak them in blood. Once, they only hunted farm animals that the townsfolk had been taking care of (you remember the sheep your father once took care of; its wool ready to be sheared the next summer, yet it never came because its little body was never to be found, apart from the large, animal-like footprints left behind from its pen). Until one day, a human body would appear. And that was the day they all realized that the wolves were now hungry for human blood.
“It is daylight,” called out another neighbor, “we must hunt them down now!”
A ripple of cheers throughout the crowd. Men raised their weapons and lit their fire, holding it up into the air. Lingering through the crowd, countless cries mingled with the somber fury of men. You wish to run away from this sight, were it not for the hand that held you tight.
“They are idiots,” your mother, who lived half of her life in this small town, muttered. “Why should they risk their lives for something trivial like this?”
You wanted to retort, that a human life had died unwillingly to death, but you only grasped the handle of your bucket tighter. This, indeed, only interfered in your daily chore of fetching well water.
“I see your father in the crowd,” she sighs, the creases in your forehead somehow making her look older, “make sure he won't join them in this madness, will you, child?”
You nodded timidly. Although you wish to support the cause, your own kin's blood is far more important than anyone else's. As you prepare to wiggle out of your mother's grasp, the townsfolk suddenly fall silent; ominous, yet full footsteps from the cathedral, not too far from the towns square, echoed loudly.
A man draped in a long, black liturgical vestment, a bible in hand and a large cross hung across his neck. Behind the priest, a regal young nun with blonde hair and green eyes followed closely. Their presence alone made the whole town quiet down, parting to let the priest closer to the mangled body.
You've seen them so many times, yet their wonders still surprise you— the priest opens his old bible, the edges of the book fraying out. He holds onto the cross, steadying it just above the body, muttering a psalm with his eyes closed. The nun would pull out a small glass container, pouring the holy water onto the corpse, and it was set aflame— the townsfolk shrieked in surprise, yet the priest and his nun only stood without any reaction.
They have, after all, been the ones to clean up the messes of murder.
“Do not act so rashly, my brethren,” the priest spoke quietly as he gave the bible to the nun, “the creatures of darkness should not be sought; lest they return us the favor of more bloodshed.”
The people around the square quieted down. Slowly, some returned back to what they were originally doing, even your father who reluctantly went back inside the comforts of your home, until all that was left in the square was the priest, the nun, the ashes of the corpse, and the man who cried out for a hunt. The priest muttered to the man, one that you couldn't hear, but it must have infuriated him as he drew out his weapon and trudged north of the square.
You hear several of your neighbors starting to whisper again— something about being unfortunate, something about being the next victim.
“Well, that's the end of it,” your mother sighed, nudging you in the direction of the well, south, “your chores can't wait forever, dearie.”
Right. You forgot you weren't some omniscient god. You quickly picked up your buckets and walked south. But your eyes still lingered at the ashes that were picked up by the nun in her hand, unable to look away at the immense sadness reflected on her somber green irises.
You trudge forward.
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Being a nun in your small town didn't seem bad. However, your mind often wanders to a future where you were in love with someone, bearing his children and living a long, loving life, despite not having a potential husband yet, that is— something that a nun cannot have, due to their devotional marriage to the Almighty.
These thoughts linger in your head, as you hum a worship song along the way, your two empty buckets clanking with your every step. It wasn't a long walk anyways, the well was now closer.
The noises in the bushes say otherwise.
The hairs on your neck prickle— you were aware rabbits occupied the area, their little paw prints digging into the snow during winter, but such noises were incapable of being made by such gentle, little creatures. You quickly pick up your pace, tugging your cape closer.
The bushes kept ruffling until you reached the well. When you look back, you only find your footsteps in the path, and the bushes were bushes. Breathing a sigh of relief, you do your business, tying your bucket and into the well.
“Aren't those buckets too heavy to carry, miss?”
If you think about it, they are— but not as heavy as your body, jumping to the sudden voice talking to you.
“W-what?” You put your hand to your chest, trying to steady your erratic heartbeat, “who's there?”
A leather shoe steps out of the shadows, before the voice reveals itself. He wore a white dress shirt with a large v-shaped cleavage dipping to his abdomen, his suit slung between his shoulders and flowing to the back, tucked neatly with clean black slacks. His eyes are a hazy shade of grey, dark hair slicked back. You've known all the faces in your little town, but with a face chiseled by the gods themselves...
He's not from this town.
“Apologies,” his lips started to move, face contorted with genuine worry, “I did not mean to scare you. The buckets you carry awfully look heavy, and I wish to help.”
Why was such a man here? You quickly stood to your feet, shaking your hands, “This has been a chore I've been doing since I was a child. You, sir, make me worry; why are you here? Are you lost?”
The man's stares linger, on the cape you wore, chuckling at your words, as if dismissing your warning. “I am not lost, little lamb. I happen to stumble across this area.”
Little lamb, it seemed to fit you as a nickname. All the other kids used to call you weak way back. But now it's different: the lady in red. But you shook your head, trying to forget the awful memory, “Do you wish to find shelter, then? I can ask the good ladies to provide you lodgings until you are ready to leave. You are not safe here, so may as well seek refuge.”
“Why?”
You ponder. Does this man not know about the rumor that circulates to the nearby towns?
Looking deep into his eyes, you mutter, “there is a wolf around the area. I suggest you leave before the day ends.”
In the middle of the darkness, sunlight peeks through the shade of the leaves. They highlighted the contours of his face. For a moment, you nearly miss the unreadable glint in his gray eyes and seemingly sharp teeth. But as you blink, his expression is nothing but confusion, as if he looked like a lost child.
“A wolf?” He hums, “ah, so the rumors were true. That sounds quite...saddening.”
“So you have heard,” nearly forgetting your task, you quickly carry your buckets once more, looking away from the charming man, “since you are well aware of the dangers here, then you should leave, good sir.”
“I'd rather you stay alive than to be an unknown victim in our town.” you added, before trudging through the path you came from.
A shame to leave him hanging, but you value your safety and mental health (even as you walk, you hear the incoming sermon of your mother). Out of the blue, the heavy weight in one of your arms disappears.
“Then that means I should at least help you with this, hm?”
You see him clear— pale skin, white teeth, sparkling eyes— in pure daylight, as he carries one bucket effortlessly.
“At least you and I can be safe from the wolf now, isn't that right, little lamb?”
Heat rushes to your cheeks, hearing those words from the stranger. Shaking your head, supporting the weight of the only bucket you had in hand now, sighing.
“If you are not from this town, then let me introduce you to some ladies in town to let you rest. I feel bad when I let others do all my tasks.”
He laughs— heartily, it makes your tummy jump, you thought you heard heaven— “your kindness baffles me, little lamb.”
“I am only repaying what you have given to me,” You admit, smiling at him genuinely, “you are the one who is kindly carrying my bucket.”
“It is not heavy,” He mirrors your smile, and you nearly miss the sharp teeth, before it somehow turns back to human ones, “I see that you were the one struggling.”
You laughed before looking elsewhere, “I should probably give you something else, then.”
“Please, this is not a favor,” He stops before placing the bucket on the ground, “consider it as...a welcoming gift.”
He flashes you one last smile, before gesturing to the front. Confused, you turned to the direction he pointed— townsfolk going about their day, the children that were playing, and the fountain that seemed good as new, as if nothing happened earlier.
Turning to thank the stranger, you realize that he had long disappeared. Only the bucket that he helped carry remained.
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Despite his sudden departure, a part of you had clung into some hope that he was safe. Maybe not in your town, but somewhere. Amongst the trees were other residents who grew tired of the fear that circulated within your little town, hoping that some were kind enough to let him in.
Fortunately though, the murder stopped. Usually, another body would have popped up in the town square, but instead, a yet-to-be lighted pine tree was erected near the fountain.
On another note, garlands of garlic and a symbol you couldn't recognize was carved onto the wooden posts standing by the entrance.
“It's to scare the wolf,” your father said after another work day, drinking from a bottle of ale that your mother prepared, “the priest commissioned us.”
The bucket of water seemed a bit heavy, several days after the kind stranger helped you. A greedy part of you wishes to see his ethereal face, but the rational one is too wary.
“He won't come back.” You said to yourself, disappointment tugging at the back of your throat, “He probably left town at this point.”
The rustling of the bushes behind you nearly scared the soul out of you. You think it's the wind, but the rustling only grew louder.
Raising one bucket to your chest, you prepare yourself to lunge at the upcoming threat in case it would jump out of its hiding spot. When that time came, you closed your eyes instead—
And a strangled, poor mewl of a cat was heard instead.
Opening one eye, you peeked to see a small kitten, perhaps smaller than the bread you consume every morning. Baby eyes peer at you, one more choked cry spewing out of its lips. Your heart crumbles at the poor creature, putting the bucket down so you could cradle it in your blemished hands, tucking it in the safety of your cape.
Too busy comforting the creature, you never noticed the looming shadow behind you.
“What a poor cat.”
You nearly threw the small creature in your hand. Looking back, your heart rattles as you lock eyes with the stranger from before. A part of you sighs in relief, partly to see that he was well and the other being relieved he was back, while the rest of your body shakes from his sudden arrival.
“Dear sir!” you breathed, fingers finding comfort by patting the kitten's soft head, “Please do not scare me like that. I do not know if I have a bad heart, yet.”
The pretty stranger laughs (at this point, you ask yourself if it was normal to have an upset stomach just from hearing his melodious laughter). Kneeling next to you, he stretches his hand out to the kitten in your hand, slender fingers caressing the area in between its eyes and its forehead.
“What a gentle, yet fragile creature.” He whispers, as if the words were only shared in between the both of you, “Pray tell, how did you find him?”
Ah, so he likes cats as well.
“He was mewling when I found him. I saw no signs of the mother.”
His eyebrows were stitched together, a subtle frown on his lips. Was this regret written on his features?
Fishing out something from his pockets, you trail his movements carefully as he pulls out a piece of meat, enough to fill the kitten's little stomach.
“I figured this would come in handy,” he chuckled, feeding the piece to the cat, “He needs it more than I do.”
You missed his words, instead, you were intently looking at his actions. “He is a he...?”
“Ah, so you have never known what gender cats bear?”
Timidly, you shook your head. “If the cat bears litter, only then will I know that they are a female.”
Golden eyes shine mischievously in the dark. Chuckling once more, he caresses the cheek of the kitten, to which the latter rubs against his fingers. He reached out, a strand of your hair in between his fingers, bringing them to his lips.
“How innocent you are, little lamb,” he whispers, “did your mother not tell you to talk to strangers?”
“She has, but if you were a demon, wouldn't you have killed me right now?”
His smile made your stomach churn, heartbeat skipping lightly in joy, “Quite perceptive, I like you.”
You giggle, “My mother tells me that, too.”
You bring the kitten to your eye level, a pout on your lips, noticing that you were going to be reprimanded should you bring an innocent feline in your raucous home.
“Little lamb, what's wrong?”
“I am afraid that I cannot bring this little one home. My family will be angry at me.”
The stranger sighed. Gently taking the warm cat from your hands, he smiles at you.
“I shall take care of him for you, then.” He spoke, “Only...”
Curiosity outweighs the warning signs flashing in your mind. You quietly asked, “Only...?”
“Will you come and visit me here, when you tend to your bucket? You shall see this creature whenever you like.”
Your heart leaps out of your chest as joy overwhelms you. No longer worrying about the poor kitten, you bowed to the stranger, thankful for his kindness.
“I still cannot believe how naïve you are, Little lamb.” You heard him mutter, but you paid no mind.
When you came back to the village, you failed to notice gray eyes following your every move.
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You did your chores diligently. After all, you were a keeper of your word.
Almost everyday, you were rendezvous with the stranger, eager to care and see the growth of the kitten you found. At some point, you no longer questioned the history of the strange man; how could you, when it already felt like you were raising a family with him?
“Like a good mother,” he complimented once, “you take good care of things.”
Heat would rush to your cheeks, tummy fluttering with what you believed were an ache, were a bunch of butterflies taking home there, alongside your thundering heartbeat. (You would slap yourself, too, confusing the stranger and your family.)
Did you like the stranger? You never realized that the thought was buried in the back of your head, then. But all the same, gray eyes you came to remember would visit you, even in your wildest dreams.
On one particular day, while you were getting ready to fetch some water and meet with your stranger, your mother stopped you.
“Dear child, I'd like you to not do that for today.”
“But,” you paused, hands gripping the buckets, “is there something wrong?”
“I'd like you to take a day off, have your brothers do that chore,” she reached out to hold your shoulders, smiling, “spend a day with your dear mother, hm?”
But how could you inform the stranger you were with these past few months, when you were going out with your mother?
In the end, you couldn't get away; instead, she dressed you in your best ones, face coated with makeup you despised, and before the day ended, you found yourself sitting in front of a man you've never met before, a ring on his finger.
“[Y/N],” his honeyed words were nothing compared to the man in the forest, but the ring on his finger looked awfully more expensive than your life, glimmering and glinting as he announced, “we shall be wed soon, my bride.”
And your fate, though unfortunate, was sealed.
--
“You weren't here yesterday.”
You flinched from the tone of your friend, the stranger, as you picked up the fast growing kitten in your arms.
Even the cat noticed your distraught, licking your thumb. “I'm sorry...my mother did not make me leave the house.”
It wasn't a lie; after all, you hadn't left the house until you were being dragged to the saloon, your husband-to-be waiting for you.
“I really wanted to talk to you,” you added, twiddling with the kitten's tail, “but my mother...”
His gray eyes were...bleak. Looking at you with noticeable exhaustion, the man could only sigh. “I thought you broke your promise. You already know what would happen...”
You wonder how to break the news to the man. Aware that your attraction to him was more than what friends would feel, your heart crumbles at the thought of telling the truth.
“Dear sir...”
When he looks up, there was a small smile on his lips. “Little lamb, there is something that I must show you.”
Gently pulling you by the hand, you clutch your cape as the winter air seeps into your skin, trying to catch up at the speed of the man. By the time he slows down, you nearly forget you're human, legs surrendering from the exhaustion.
Thankfully, the man caught you first.
“I am sorry,” he said, as if he hadn't run so fast, “I forgot you aren't entirely athletic.”
You smiled at him, looking down to find the little kitten was snugly fit in his breast pocket, mewling contently.
“You can put me down now, dear sir,” you blushed, coughing, “I can walk on my own.”
“Nonsense,” he mirrors your smile, “let me carry you until we reach our destination.”
“Is it very far, then?”
Carrying you like a bride, he shook his head, a small smile on his lips, “We're quite close.”
The warmth and comfort as he carries you effortlessly, the smell of fresh pine and creeks— you could get drunk in this smell forever. You wrapped your arms around his shoulders, trying to sneak your way in smelling more (it's too late; the stranger already knew.)
“You may open your eyes now, little lamb.”
You do. And you were not mistaken—
A field full of roses. Dressed in snow, it was the first time you've seen such a magnificent color, like blood, bleeding onto the white. When the stranger puts you down, your legs find themselves running to the field, eager to witness such beauty amongst the winter land.
“How...” words died in your throat, “How did you find something like this?”
Wordlessly, the stranger sits beside you as you fiddle with the flowers, fingers playing with your red cape, “I've told you; I'm a wanderer.”
Sometimes, you thought about your luck that was down the drain. But when you think about the stranger, the cat, and this beautiful scenery, a stray idea came to you, that made you look at the ashen-eyed man— what if you were to run away with him right now?
He looked back at you, piercing eyes glimmering as he slowly leaned to you, aware of how your breath was fanning his lips.
“Little lamb,” his words were your Achilles' heel, the sound of his voice dipping enough to make your heartbeat louder, “Pull away, should you not like what I will do next.”
What does he do next? Gently, softly, he presses his sweet lips to your inexperienced ones. Shortly, sweetly, with his eyes closed, it made yours flutter before surrendering to the feeling of the kiss.
You should pull away. You should have. You had a groom waiting for you at a church, the wedding a few days away. But was it a sin to kiss a man, a stranger you had fallen in love with, to wrap your arms around him, innocently and carelessly but passionately, as the kiss deepens? His heartbeat and yours in sync, your lips exploring whatever was there waiting for the unknown, his hands on your waist, holding your cape, breathing into each other's warmth— was it really a sin?
The stranger pulls away, somehow aware of the lack of oxygen, with a little whine from your lips, you almost made yourself want to hide away forever. But he only laughs, fingers caressing the apple of your cheek, a butterfly kiss on the tip of your nose. It was the first of your many kisses— and it made your stomach flutter wildly, your legs trembling from want.
“How cute,” the stranger chuckles, “And I thought you were innocent, little lamb.”
“I-It's my first time!” you mutter, looking away from his teasing expression, “I've never kissed anyone before...”
He leans closer, lips touching your cheeks, your jaw, feeling him smile as he inhales. “...do you regret, then?”
Do you? Your nails absentmindedly caress the nape of his neck, trying to look around but him. “No...”
“Good, because I want to kiss you more,” he admits, light kisses on your jaw, “God, it's all I want to do with you.”
His body presses more on you, and you only succumb to it— his warmth, his touch, his kisses. You wanted more, every part of you aching and aching until your body was screaming—
“Let's run away together.”
Your breathing chokes on your throat. Looking at him, his expression is serious and unwavering, your heart beating and breaking at the same time.
He moves and you're kissing him again. You forgot it's your first time, you forgot that he was a stranger— the pretty stranger was the water and you were drowning endlessly in him.
The kitten in his breast pocket mewled. It made you pull away. And reality, although painful, began to catch up with you.
“Little lamb?”
His gray eyes were looking at you with worry. Breathing unstable, you try not to let the tears prickling your eyes escape.
“Dear sir, I'm...sorry.”
“Why...?”
You try to drink all your regrets, pushing away the only warmth in this long, cold winter.
“I can't be with you.”
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You don't remember what happened after.
You remember walking back, the warmth being overridden by the cold winter, your red cape dragging through the snow. You remember thinking that your mother would be mad at you, for not returning before sundown, that you should be preparing to meet with your betrothed. But to break your heart and the stranger— should you still call him that?— was far too much for your mind, that you had no emotion left whatsoever, to face what was waiting for you at the village.
Your footsteps are heavy. But at least, the light of the village was already bright. Wait, bright? Trudging through the thick snow a little faster, you hear incoherent cries and screams. By the time you reached the source, you felt someone grab ahold of your arm, causing you to yelp out loud.
“Where have you been?” Your mother's voice causes you to panic, poison dripping from her words, “You nearly made me have a heart attack!”
Your mother holds you by the chin, forcing you to look at the crowd by the square, seeing faces of horror amongst familiar faces. “Should you have shown yourself,” your mother sneered, “You would have been the talk of the town.”
With an opening from the crowd, you finally understood what your mother meant: the priest and his nun, an erected torch in the middle, and that horrid scene you thought you were done watching.
Another dead body. This time, their head was cut off.
---
How were you to know what happened next? Your mother forbade you to leave the house, fearing the wolf would hunt for another. Even all the other activities, including the meet-up with your betrothed, were canceled. You spent the rest of your days waiting, and waiting, unaware that you were supposed to meet with the stranger and fetch water from the well.
The stranger...the stranger you had fallen in love with, the stranger you thought you could run away with.
You sleep through your pain.
Until the days were slowly counting down to the wedding.
“[Y/N], dear,” one day, your father called you downstairs, “Will you please come and meet me here?”
When you did, you were greeted with a big basket, red cloth peeking in between the cover and its mouth. You noticed your mother and father were the only ones waiting for you in the living room, holding the basket together. You wanted to ask.
“It has always been our tradition to bury the flowers we grew before a member of the family were to be wed,” your father spoke, “Aa a tradition to honor our forefathers, we would like for you to do the same.”
“Your wedding day will be tomorrow,” your mother said, “and the priest already allowed us to leave the village, as long as you return before sunset.”
Ah, the wedding. How many weeks have you been holed up in your room, that you've forgotten?
“Not only that, your grandmother lives near the place we do the tradition. We'd like you to extend our invitations to her.” Your father added.
Your heart skipped a beat. It meant you were going to pass by the well, to meet your stranger. But your heart quickly sank— forgetting you've rejected him. There was a high chance he had left. Quietly and compliantly, you picked up the red cape you'd been wearing during your rendezvous and carried the basket that your parents had prepared.
“I'll be back before sundown, then.”
“We love you.” You don't miss those words, before the door closed on you.
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The smell of pine trees on your cape still lingers on your cape.
With the first snow falling, your walk to your grandmother's cottage is far and long. But you don't mind, as the scent on your cape kept you company.
The basket is heavy in your hand, but you don't mind. It reminds you of the cat you found that day, and you wonder if it was now as heavy as the basket you carried. How was he? Is he safe? The stranger, will he not be mad after what you said?
It made you sigh from sadness. At the well, he was never there.
“Little lamb,” he would have called you like that, “what a kind little girl you are.”
His voice lingered, probably something that made you remember things. You remember the smell of pine trees on his fingers, the gentleness of his hands as he held the cat— onto yours. The way they easily slotted in between the gaps in your fingers, while you both lay underneath the kind sun, creating angels out of snow.
“Have I told you how beautiful you are?”
The way he spoke of your nickname, his touches and teases. It was taunting, it was teasing, but it was all you had. His warmth close to your freezing one, tender arms wrapped among yours.
“Little lamb, little lamb,” the lilt of his tone, the way it tickled your neck, the way it traveled to your tummy, “A pliant, little girl of mine.”
Your memories morph into something else— an image of you, in between his hips, your dress dangerously lifted up your stomach. His hands were holding you by the waist, your arms on his shoulders. In your memory, you hear yourself in a tone you would have recognized as something so indecent, something so intimate. Calling the stranger with gray eyes and slicked-back dark hair in a name that you don't recognize, but somehow knew.
“Von Negut,” how vulgar, the name of someone you never recognized, “more, please.”
Do you remember something like this? When your mouth was on the stranger's lips, the way you grinded on his thigh, sultry moans you never knew that you could make—
You tripped on the snow, causing you to wake up from the memory you had. Catching on your breath, trying to grasp reality, you immediately notice that you toppled over your basket. But thankfully, the flowers in it were still intact. Shaking away the sudden fall, you try to move your body, but down there...you disregard it, as the cold was already disturbing you enough. You prepare to advance forward.
But to your surprise— grandmother's cottage was already in front of you.
---
For as long as you remember, your grandmother was the one who gifted you the red cape.
“It's to protect you from the wolves,” she said, “and you look prettier in red.”
You hoped it was true. Especially with all the murders.
“Grandma,” you called out as you knocked on the door, “It's me, [Y'N].”
A few more knocks should have made her open the door. But on your fifth knock, your grandmother had not made a sound inside. Quietly, you opened the door with a secret that your grandmother taught you when you were younger.
By the time the door opened, you were met with silence and darkness. “Grandma?”
Walking through the wooden floor, your step creaking, you look around to see if your grandmother is asleep. Eventually, you found yourself in her living room, where someone was sitting on a chair facing the windows.
“Grandma?” You called out once more.
“Hello, dear little red hood.” A nickname she fondly called you.
“Hello, grandma. I'm sorry I took so long, that I wasn't able to visit you.”
You quickly placed your basket on the nearest table, rushing to meet your grandmother, but she raised her hand midway, causing you to stop.
“...as much as I want you to pay your respects, dear, I would refrain you from doing so. Grandma...is not feeling well.”
You only noticed the gruffness of her voice. Bowing your head (with a little disappointment), feeling bad for her, wishing you brought medicine as well.
“What brings you here, child?”
“I wished to see you,” you began, “...and I wanted to tell you...to come and visit the town tomorrow. I will be wed by noon.”
A pin-drop silence enveloped the room before your grandmother cackled.
“Marriage, huh?”
You sigh wistfully, the stranger you met crossing your mind, “I...yes.”
“Who is the lucky man?”
“I have never met him before. But my mother said he is the son of one of the best hunters in the region.”
“Does not sound very convincing, tch.” You noticed the anger from her tone, but still, you did not mind.
“Pray tell, dear,” she began once more, “Along the way, did you want this marriage?”
The stranger. The kitten. Your heart and mind. They were all finding someone else. “No...I, I cannot say...”
“Did you not really dream of anyone else, hm?”
Did you? You suddenly remember the lewd thought you had earlier, of the name you called, which made your cheeks flush red, and down there...
“Tell me, little lamb, did you not think of me?”
You froze. No one else called you that nickname. Looking up, the person sitting on the chair finally revealed himself.
The stranger, with sharp teeth and blood in his mouth.
“S-Sir?”
“I wondered when you were going to show up, little lamb.”
With every step he took to you, you would move backward, until you bumped onto the table. Without wasting any time, your stranger pressed himself to you, caging you in between his arms, making you scream.
“Did you miss me?”
“Y-You're the wolf?”
“And here I thought you were glad to see me,” tenderly, like before, his fingers grade your jaw and lips, hungry gray eyes looking on your lips, before staring at your eyes. His fingers found themselves taking a strand of your hair to his lips.
“Marriage, it's a shame.” He chuckled, pressing a kiss to your hair, “I mean, he'd be lucky to have my little lamb as his wife.”
You're shaking in his arms, afraid and somehow aware of his size now that his jacket is out of the way, muscles and skin showing and touching yours. Down there, your legs tremble, and you try not to cry from being intimidated by this bloody man.
“But no marriage would happen tomorrow anyway.”
“Wh-what?”
Pulling out from his pockets, the sunlight glints at the gold band on his fingers, bloodied and gone.
“D-Did you-”
“-kill the man? I would be ruthless; of course not. I merely bullied him to give me the wedding band.”
Like your moment at the rose field, the stranger nuzzled his nose to your cheeks, making you sniffle your cries. “I've been waiting for you for a long, long time now, little lamb.”
Pulling away, pity and sadness were reflected in his eyes, a small frown on his pretty lips. Taking your hand, slipping in the bloody ring on yours, he began to speak.
“Do you know what I had to go through?”
Timidly through your tears, you shook your head. “N-No...”
“Wolves feed on human blood. Without it, we would die.”
He gently kissed your fingers, before whispering, “It was hell; trying to kill just to survive.”
A part of you somehow pitied this man. But he ruthlessly and mercilessly murdered every man in your little town. You looked at him as he continued to kiss your fingers.
“There is a solution to this problem, though.”
As if finding eureka, your stranger's eyes glimmered brighter than the ring you had in hand.
“I had to find my mate.”
His fingers were brushing away the tears streaming on your cheeks, kissing them away, “...and she happens to be you.”
He kissed you. Lips stained with blood, that you could taste in between breaths. But unlike his nature, he was kind, he was still so gentle.
“My little lamb,” he whispered in between kisses, “Be with me, or...”
His lips were now kissing the area underneath your ear, before threatening, “...I will murder everyone in that village.”
“No!”
With all your strength, you push him off, knocking the table and the basket in the process. But your attempts were futile; he grabbed your cape, causing you to fall onto the scattered flowers on the floor. Screaming and crying through the fear, you helplessly tried to shake out of his hard grasp on your arms above your head. But he already had you pinned in between his body.
“Ah, ah, little lamb,” He teases, “I'd rather you not do that.”
He leans down to you, lips capturing yours. You are helpless in his grasp, with nowhere left to run. His kiss was fiery, passionate. You were afraid, but the way that you molded perfectly onto him, the heat pooling at your legs, his weight above you; you could only pull away for energy, before being kissed once more.
“Von Negut,” you unconsciously cried out, mouth clamping for being carelessly moaning out loud when his leg brushed you down there.
He froze. Looking up, you swore his fangs were showing.
“So you remember,” he grinned, “I am glad I didn't have to introduce myself again, [Y/N].”
He knew who you were, like how you knew who he was before. The memory from earlier resurfaced, and you could only whine from the way he was kissing and teasing you with his lips.
“Let me touch you, little lamb,” he murmured, which you unconsciously opened to him, “let me show you that you are mine.”
His knees found themselves slotted in between your slightly exposed bottoms, your skirt now on your stomach. You try to wiggle out of his grasp, but with Von Negut tearing apart your blouse with one hand, you are more exposed.
“Beautiful,” he inhaled through your bra, burying himself there, “Mine.”
It really was too much: the heat, the wetness pooling down there, and his lips latched on your chest as he stripped you bare. Weakly, you cried out to stop, tears now endlessly crying as your voice turned into helpless moans.
With his free hand, he slipped it in between your thighs, prying your legs open. Neverminding the undergarments as he effortlessly tore them once more, his fingers were toying with your drenched thighs, purposely avoiding your neglected clit.
“Fuck, already wet?” Von Negut chuckled, “What a naughty little slut you are, little lamb.”
Embarrassment flooded you endlessly. His fingers finally decided to play with your wet folds, every sound echoing throughout the room. But just when you thought it was over, Von Negut hovered over to your exposed cunt, mouth drooling as he looked at you: disheveled and confused, amongst the fallen flowers on your back.
“This is mine too, hmm.” Licking one long stripe, you moaned his name out loud, fingers threading his now unkempt hair.
“V-Von Negut, n-no, it's too dirty there...”
“But doesn't it feel nice, hm?” He digs into your pussy, kitten licks on your clit as he played with your sopping wet hole. “You must be lying; you taste heavenly.”
Von Negut felt like he was in heaven at this point. Watching you writhe as he expertly and sloppily ate you out, forgetting the aching tent in his pants. Right now, what you wanted, was to prepare you for something big.
But with you moaning his name without any filter, then God, he was ready to cum right there and then.
“Mmh, look at this, such a virgin little hole, too,” He eases two fingers in, and fuck, it was already tight, with you crying from the pain.
“N-no more, p-please...”
“Little lamb- ah, please stop moving, mmh-” He tries to slip in one more finger, but you wouldn't stop moving. With two fingers, he curled it just right, as you arched your back with a moan.
“Von Negut, no more...!”
“You're coming now, aren't you, little lamb,” he laughed, watching as you bit your teeth, watching in the next few moments before you would come undone.
“W-what's happening?”
You wouldn't know, but Von Negut does. “Cum for me, little lamb.”
Per his instructions, your pussy clamps on his fingers, liquid coming out endlessly as you came violently, coating his hand. Von Negut laughs at your misfortune, but you-
“So, goddamn beautiful, little lamb,” he cooed, trying to call you back to reality from your first orgasm, “we're still not done...”
When he pulled his fingers out, your hole was still clenching around nothing, only igniting the thirst he had for you. Watching as you weakly turned on your stomach, crawling away, Von Negut takes his time, unbuckling his belt, revealing his massive, leaking cock.
Grabbing you by the hips, he drags you closer, cock rubbing in between your ass, making you whimper. “If I put this big thing inside of you, I'm going to make you my woman, hm?”
You turned behind him, watching it in between you, rubbing it against the good parts, “W-wait, will that even f-fit me?”
“You're my good little lamb,” he cooed, tip rubbing your overstimulated clit, “I'm going to tear through your hymen, you won't be a virgin anymore. You're going to be my little lamb, my little cocksleeve.”
His words spurred you on, hole clenching once more around nothing, “N-No, please-!”
“You'll take it like a good fucking girl.”
Without hesitation, he plunged the tip into your tight ring of muscle, your voice crying out from the pain as he sank into you, some blood gushing out, with cream forming from where he fucked you. He was supposed to let you adjust, to let you get used to his girth. But fuck, you just can't be still- your cunt asking him to fuck you more, to suck his dick deeper onto you. With a loud moan, Von Negut bottoms out, the tip hitting your g-spot.
“V-Von Negut-!”
You came violently once more, fluids coming out of your newly-claimed hole, tears and shaking as proof of your defeat. Von Negut should be smiling, then- after all, he was finally yours, as much as you were his.
“Little lamb?”
But you weren't listening. Instead, you subconsciously grind on his dick more, whining impatiently. “Nngh, p-please.”
“Fucked out already, hm? Fuck, and I thought you were so innocent”
Effortlessly turning you to face him without getting you off his cock, Von Negut finally sees your beautiful tear-strained face, helpless as he fucks you properly this time.
Was it always this blissful? Every noise and sound that Von Negut could coax right out of you was perfect. That his mate, the fated red hood, the panacea of all his problems, was finally his to take? Fucking you deeper and harder now, he presses a hand on where the bulge from fucking you was seen.
“Little lamb, [Y/N],” he called out, noticing that he was ready to come, even if he was seeing the expression on your face, “I'm so close...”
“P-please,” you lulled, brain fogging from the pain and pleasure, “V-Von Ne-Negut,”
The clench of your pussy, the way you called his name, and the way his cock was pistoning in and inside of your used pussy— fuck, that was all it took for Von Negut to moan your name and fill your insides, painting your walls white, overflowing, even before he hadn't pulled out yet.
With a sigh, he comes back to Earth, watching as you ride out the last of your orgasm. Pulling out, as messy as it was, with his cum dripping out of you, he tries to succumb to the urge to fucking it back inside. Von Negut carries you in his arms, carrying you to the spare bed he had prepared. You must have been exhausted, seeing that you couldn't open your eyes as he carried you.
“I hope the prophecy was right, then.”
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Your mother once told you not to stray from the path.
But you were far from the path that was laid out to you. Somewhere amongst the dense trees of spring and summer, or the fallen leaves in autumn, and the cold in winter, you settled on a cottage far from the village. There, you could clean, cook, or sleep whenever you wanted,
It could be lonely, but it's not all the time. At least, when you're a ghost.
If you ever find a man in the woods asking to help, decline the offer. Unless you want to be a victim of his whims.
“Little lamb,” he'd call you that, “I hope your mother told you not to stray the path.”
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