#Carnivorous virility

[cannibalguy]

“You guys eat people!” Gannibal (Shinzô Katayama, 2023)

Gannibal is a new seven-episode television series set in present day, rural Japan. The show is based on a Manga series (comic or graphic novel) which appears to be available on-line. In the first episode, we see a policeman raging outside a house, accusing the occupants of cannibalism. He soon comes to a sticky end. Police officer Daigo Agawa becomes Chuzai (residential police officer) at the…

[hawkinsbnbg]

While his ancestors were devoted to preying on virile men, Steve—a young succubus—chose to settle in Hawkins for a chance at a normal life.

Given his innate charm, he had become the top dog on his first day at school and reigned his subjects with an iron fist. That meant; no bullies nonsense, no ostracized students, and no making fun of less-privileged people.

Steve wasn’t a saint, mind you, but he always did what he deemed right, and reducing the high-school teenage toxicity helped assuage his headaches.

On the other hand, to cover up his tracks with some of the men (he had selected carefully) in the town, he played up the whole rich spoiled brat who had absent parents and was a womanizer part.

And for a long time, it worked.

It worked so well that Steve had become careless and slipped up.

After putting Nancy into a vivid dream of them having sex, he scented something foul and immediately knew there was a trespasser on his property.

That was how he had gotten to the pool in time to save Barb from a monster that resembled Snatcher.

Unfortunately, Jonathan Byers had caught him beating it on the camera and came begging for his help the following day.

Since Steve’s bleeding heart couldn’t take it, he ended up rescuing Will from the hellhole full of Snatcher-like creatures and flower-faced carnivores.

Naively, he had thought it was the end of it. But somehow, the Byers decided he was a part of them after he brought their youngest back from the underworld and always invited him over for dinner.

(Steve had shyly admitted to Joyce that it was kind of nice to have home-cooked meals with so many people for once. He had become the Byers’ permanent guest ever since then.)

Thanks to Will, he got to know The Party, learned about secret government labs and experimented children, and was dragged kicking and screaming into the Upside Down fiasco by the goddamm maternal he had for those gremlins.

(He guessed the list also included Nancy, Barb, Jonathan, Joyce Byers, and even Jim Hopper.)

Fast forward to S4 where everything derailed and went south so rapidly that Steve didn’t have time to respite. It resulted in his power being drained after having healed most of the bat’s bites and injuries he sustained.

Since they were on the run, his options were sort of limited, and although it would risk raising more suspicion on himself, Steve didn’t think Eddie would have the energy to mull over it too long once he was done.

Meanwhile, Eddie was perplexed and aghast when Steve Harrington pulled him to the back of the camper when no one noticed and proceeded to blow his brain the fuck out.

Eddie nearly combusted and died right then when Steve looked up at him through those pretty lashes, nuzzling his thigh and thanking him softly.

The sight went straight into Eddie’s spank bank and he didn’t even feel guilty about it. If anything, it just fueled his determination to kill Vecna so he could spend more time with his boy.

Much much later when everyone made it out alive and Eddie survived his horrible not-good spring break, he finally learned about Steve’s secret and offered the succubus a lifetime deal.

Eddie would be Steve’s personal charger for as long as he lived.

In response, Steve had jumped his bone right at that moment and didn’t stop until midnight.

Eddie had half a mind to worry about his kidneys’ welfare, but he soon decided it was future-Eddie’s problem. Present-Eddie was blissfully balls deep in Steve’s sweet hole and couldn’t care less.

[evolutionsvoid]

Yes, yes we all know what this species does! Its method of warding off predators is quite infamous, but there is more to this creature than that! The whole entry can't be about it, so lets try to keep it together!

The Bonnacon is a species of bovine that inhabits plains, grasslands and some savannas. They are about the same size as your domesticated cow, though a few physical features cause them to stand out (and I am not talking about that one). First off is their reddish brown fur, which is made even more striking with the fiery coloration of their skin and dewlap. These bright oranges are hard to miss, as this is not a species that cares about blending in! Another feature is the mane of brown hair that runs down their neck, almost similar to that of a horse's. And while we are looking at its head, the next thing to note is their horns. Compared to other bovines, these horns can seem a bit small. On top of that, they are curled so that no sharp points are exposed, and are positioned upon the head in such a way that they wouldn't do much when it comes to charging and ramming. Even if they were larger, the materials that makes up these horns is noticeably weaker than other bovine horns, making these horns bend under pressure. In truth, if a Bonnacon charged you, the real pain would be coming from this massive ungulate ramming into you, and not so much the pitiful horns. Yes, there are worse things they can do to you, but we aren't on that subject yet! 

Bonnacon travel in small herds, and spend a large portion of their days grazing. They feed upon a wide variety of vegetation, with very few plants exempt from their menu. One of the major notes of their diet is that they graze upon plants that are typically poisonous to most other herbivores. Other plant eaters avoid these particular shrubs or growths like the plague, while the Bonnacon munches upon them without a care in the world. From what we understand, their digestive system is capable of handling a variety of toxins, and uses particular chemicals found in nasty plants as fuel for something else (no, we aren't talking about that part yet). This gives this bovine a wider selection of plants to choose from when feeding, and it also means a food source free from competition. For the ecosystem, they play an important part in keeping these poisonous and noxious plants in check, preventing them from growing out of control due to zero grazing.

When mating season kicks in, the male Bonnacon's look to round up as many females as possible, though the competition between them is not as violent as other bovines. While you may expect them battering each other with their horns and resorting to violence, such fights rarely break out. I will remind you that their horns are pretty poor for battle, though they do have a purpose here. Apparently, these horns are good indicators of health and virility, so simply showing them off is enough to woo the ladies. When it comes to keeping away competing males, they raise their tails and show off the colorful markings on their rumps (Just the rumps! Nothing else yet). These too are representative of their health and strength, and other males can easily gauge if this is a fight they can win. Most of the time, these displays are enough to defuse the situation, with the lesser Bonnacon accepting that they could never win this battle. If it comes to fighting, it is done through awkward body battering and tail whips, more akin to a drunken shoving match than any legitimate brawl. This species isn't exactly known for the most dignified ways of warding off foes. 

And now that I have gone over the Bonnacon facts that everyone will skip over, it is time for the part all the readers came for. Lets all ask the question that will get us there: "Hey Chlora, how do Bonnacon ward off predators?" Good question, children! Well, the Bonnacon has a super secret weapon up its sleeve whenever a big mean carnivore comes to eat it! When the big bad wolf comes creeping up, the poor little Bonnacon lifts its tail up and fires off a wet blast of caustic fecal matter that will douse the land and predator in a brown burning shower of shit that would make any public outhouse blowout after a dinner of bad fish tacos look like a lazy day of beach reading! THERE! WE'RE AT THE POOP PART! ARE YOU HAPPY!? Now we get to talk about how the Bonnacon fights its battles with fiery turd farts! YIPPEE!

Now that I got that out of my system, indeed the Bonnacon weaponizes its own fecal matter. It seems that there is a combination of chemicals brought in from its diet mixed in with its own special intestinal secretions that create this effect. All this is infused into its waste, and it appears that the act of ejecting it from its bowels starts the reaction. When the feces is sprayed from its body, a reaction within kicks off which creates the rise in temperature and creation of caustic fluids. While this waste does not actually catch on fire, the high heat of it combined with its acidic coating certainly gives the feeling of being set aflame while it burns through your skin. Their "ejection" system is specially designed to release this waste with long distance and wide range. It is meant to either catch the predator within the burning cone of filth, or create a hazard so foul that any meat eater would think twice before pursuing. Typically this butt blast is fired off just before the Bonnacon flees, which some humorous folk have interpreted into this species launching itself to safety by the propulsion of its own fiery flatulence. Oh what a lark.

Obviously, ammunition for this kind of firepower is limited, and thus the Bonnacon must use it sparingly between meals. This is why they bear the bright orange and dark markings upon their rump, as they serve as a warning sign to potential predators. When threatened, they will raise their tails to fully show off these colors, as a "last chance" for their foe before they open fire. You may also notice that these behinds lack hair, and that is because they don't want their own feces getting caught in their fur. Would be quite the mess to get out! 

Outside of the endless crude jokes and comments one can mine from the Bonnacon's existence, they do actually have a place in the local culture. Due to their diet of nasty plants, they can be used to clear land that has been overgrown by noxious and dangerous weeds. Their hide has been found to make resilient leather, the kind that is resistant to caustic agents and damaging fluids. Their meat....well, most people avoid it. Due to their diet, it can contain some nasty stuff unless it is thoroughly cooked to a crisp. Even then, you won't find a lot of folk willing to have a taste once they learn what beast it comes from. I, for one, gave it a try when I found a reputable chef that was known for preparing it. It was...fine. Nothing to write home about, but it certainly didn't have the flavors most people would expect when coming from a Bonnacon. And of course, we can't ignore their feces, as that even has a use! It turns out, Bonnacon waste is actually a really good fertilizer, once you let it cool down and its fluids grow inert. But sometimes, that burning pile of poo has its uses! If you want to prepare a field or flower bed, and know it is loaded with wild seeds of weeds you don't want, then lay down a layer of fresh Bonnacon poop. The heat and acidity of it will bake out all the seeds and roots that are waiting down below, and then add nutrients once it has burned itself out. In fact, some species of plant have designed their seeds to only be spread and germinated by Bonnacon waste! So we've taken a note from these plants and use it to clear out our flower beds! Now your garden is ready for planting! It is a pretty clever way to do it, but just be ready to get a lot of complaints from your neighbors.        

Chlora Myron

Dryad Natural Historian

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

"Bonnacon"

Ah the infamous Bonnacon! The ol' mammalian bombardier beetle! Had to show up sooner or later.

[vroooom2]

When my DNA is going wild 😜 who wants to beef it up wit' mee?

😶‍🌫️🤨😬

"Do I want to live in a society where people can be identified secretly and at a distance by the government? I do not, and I think I am not alone in that."

[littlefreya]

Bark at the Moon

Summary: Walter always comes to you when he needs a hard release. Tonight he seems to need it more than ever.

Pairing: Werewolf!Walter Marshall x Female Reader 

Word count: 2K (WTF it was supposed to be a drabble)

Warnings: 18+, sex, lycanthropy, supernatural themes, no strings attached, vaginal fingering, oral performed on female, primal play (slight biting and scratching), cockwarming, slight denial, angst, fluff and romance.

*No permission is given for reposting my work, copying it, ideas or parts it and claiming it as your own

A/N: Not me naming my AUs after Ozzy Osbourne songs/albums. Following my post from October I am trying to follow up. This one-shot is also inspired by A Company of Wolves and @fishcustardandclintbarton​ moodboard. Many thanks to my beta and muse and dear friend @agniavateira​ for all the help. 

Please reblog and comment if you enjoyed 🖤

Title: Bark at the Moon

Muddy Timberlands dragged across the worn doormat as the large detective sought to rid himself of the dirt caking his soles. Black and soft, the dark mane of curls hung loosely above his forehead, a pale blue sheen cascading over each ringlet that concealed his face while he kicked his feet like an unruly child.

An instinct within pressed you to reach a wandering hand and entwine your fingers between those healthy locks. But ironically, touching Walter screamed ‘taboo,’ as if he wasn't going to finish wet and messy inside you anyway. 

Otherwise, he wouldn't have been here. 

"Rough evening?" you murmured, taking a long whiff of air. Traces of coffee drifted from his breath, mingling with the brisk November chill that wafted over your face.  

It's not that you didn't enjoy his company; it's just that Walter left you with nothing but bitemarks, bruises, and dirty sheets. A foreigner to this country even after all these years, Walter was much like the salty rocks from the islands that bred him: hardened and crude, yet smooth at the edge where the water licked the stone. Some evenings he wouldn't even speak; the moment his boots made it past the doorway, all civilised manners flew out the window, luring the beast to wander. Shredding your outfit, he’d fuck you to tears, shaking you the way a canine carnivore stuns its prey and then unload himself into you until you ached and begged him to stop.

Once stripped off his uniform, the sullen cop was no different than the deviants he shoved behind iron bars. Little did it matter, you loved him enough for the two of you, and though you knew you were a toy to pass the time, he always crawled back to you with that deprived agonised sparkle staining his gaze. 

After what seemed like an endless battle between his shoes and the bristly rug, he finally paused and slowly lifted his chin. Marine-blue irises peered below thick brows, and a red rim of weariness perfected his customary scowl. 

"Yeah," he drawled with indifference, "got any beer?"  

Observing him for a moment, you studied the sharp ridges of his furrowed brow and nodded, turning to let him in. Despite his heavy frame, he followed with lithe stillness, stepping into your house without making a sound while you advanced to the kitchen. 

Whatever happened tonight must have left another dent in the coarse material that made this man. You often mused on the things he must have seen and found out it’s better not to ask. 

You reached for the fridge when his arm wrapped around your waist by surprise and snatched you back, hauling you flushed against his broad chest. Briefly, he nuzzled your nape, his parted lips huffing hot against your skin. His breath carried the pained melody of a sad longing animal, an ache so great it seeped through the pores of your skin and infected you with his grief. 

You weren’t afraid of the beast but felt sorry for it.

“I need to feel you,” Walter rasped, a timbre of plea in his baritone. Palm swiping greedily at your breast and his cock hard and hungry, he ground his hips at the cleft of your ass. Like the black, shaggy dog that he was, he sniffed the air and then rubbed himself further against your jeans, seducing the wanton animal within you to come out of its hiding. 

“You want me too, I can smell it, I can smell your cunt.” 

Where was the lie?

With a guttural growl, he turned you to face him, skilful hands already making tatters of your clothes and his fangs nipping your throat. Caged in his grasp, you hissed and shuddered out of fear and lust. A part of you was always frightened that one night Walter will pierce an artery by mistake at the heat of the moment whilst another, more archaic urge, called for the sweet passion that was your Thanatos.

Succumbing to both urges, you forced his cable-knit sweater off, exposing his muscular, beefy torso and splaying your hands down his flexing pecs to feel the soft, dark fur that covered his chest and belly. Everything about Walter was large and charged with virility, twisting your moral compass and making any argument weak in his presence. Staring at the bulge in his trousers, you gnawed your bottom lip, giving to the pang of hunger that shot through your clenching core while your wicked fingers began to fumble with the clasp of his belt. 

With a low roar rumbling in his chest, he scrutinised you as if this was a trial, his eyes flashing, anticipating you to reach and grab his large cock. 

“Fuck…” his sonorous voice caressed your ears. He quickly slid his hand down your trousers, grabbing a handful of your ass before gliding his fingers to feel between your engorged petals. 

A tempest of moans unfurled from your clenching throats once you squeezed his shaft in your palm, choking around the veins adorning the meaty girth.

“You are always so wet for me, always so ready,” he uttered and licked your cheek. 

“Walter, please!” 

At your plea, his fingers slipped deep inside your burning cavern. Back and forth, he probed your little slit, spreading thick wetness across your mound and further up your virginal ass to taunt you. 

Before you met Walter you vowed that you’ll never be into that kind of debauchery. But whenever the bulbous crown of his cock accidentally teased your puckered hole, the only thing you could muster to think of was how much you wanted him to fill every empty inch within you.  

Long, nimble fingers dug deep, parting your sealed walls asunder in an endeavour to find the small heap of pleasure that regressed you to savagery. You were nothing but an instrument of pleasure, gyrating to the melody he composed by the rhythm of his thrusts, following every note. He made you shudder, made the earth below split in half and all the while, he held back and watched. A sick mist of curiosity hovered over the frigid ocean that was his glance, mindful of how logic and reason drained from your face, leaving you utterly incoherent and primal. 

Just as he was.

He crooned at your whimpers and nodded at the desperation dripping from your gaze. Hips swaying, you wriggled against his hand in a frustrated attempt to reach for the tendrils of ecstasy that loomed inches from your grasp.

“You want to come, love?” he asked, almost patronising. His brow lifted, and his eyes flared with what you could only describe as pity.

“Yes! Please! Please make me come!” 

His fingers tore from your sleek with a sudden haul, leaving you a trembling, outraged mess. Yet you had no time to curse him for denying your pleasure. Moving faster than your thoughts, Walter stripped your trousers and slammed you rear onto the counter. Kneeling between your spread legs, his strong hands gripped your thighs and dragged your cunt into his bearded jaw.

“Fuck!” 

His mouth wrapped around you in a lover’s embrace, his silky tongue plunging between your lips to savour the honeyed nectar that dripped from your tightening core. Thoroughly devouring your cunt, Walter hummed. Raw, unfiltered, and unbound, he laved every inch within as if he was dining at Olympus and feasting on ambrosia for the first time. Arching back, you dared to entangle your fingers in his curls and ride his bristly face until you succumbed to the furious, quaking bliss that spasmed within your womb and consumed you into rapturous euphoria. 

Engulfed in a veil of blissful darkness, you continued wailing, heaving, and slumping on the counter. Puny jitters of aftershock trod upon your throbbing flesh while Walter finished his feast with languid laps of his tongue.

Once you blinked your eyes open, Walter stood straight between your legs, now fully naked, peering at you quietly. His eyes were aglow with all the conundrums he could never speak. Still hazy from your ecstasy, you stared back with awe, drinking each taut bulging muscle and worshipping the feral, beastlike entity that he was. Not even the scars on his body could steal away his unspoken pride. 

Reaching a hand for his imposing cock, he crept closer and glared straight into your soul as he pressed himself into your tight little entrance. A loud groan thundered through your kitchen as he pushed in, erupting into the most melodic war cry which never failed to astound you once he penetrated you. Still clenched from your orgasm, you gritted your teeth and whimpered in pain, not quite ready to have all of him at once. Yet Walter wasn’t keen on stopping and continued delving deeper and deeper, despite your nails tearing fresh new trails of blood down his shoulders.

“Wait!” you pleaded, yelping when he suddenly bottomed out inside you.

An arduous gasp tore from his lips, and his forehead dropped on your shoulder. Stilling inside you, he breathed in the mien of a wild creature, trying to regain his composure for a brief moment as he timed his assault. Fingers etched below your thighs, he pulled you up with ease and carried you through the apartment whilst still buried inside you.

Confused by his actions, you hung your arms around his thick neck and clung to his body, welcoming the soft brush of his hide against your naked breasts. 

Soon, you found yourself on your bed with him seated beneath you while your legs enveloped his wide waist. Nestled between your cinching walls, his cock throbbed full of rage, desperate for the unbridled friction that Walter forbade as he refused to move. Milking every drop of his self-control, he vigorously fought to dominate his desire. 

With his shaft pulsating hot and buried completely within your womb, your previous orgasm felt like a distant dream and a fresh new need soon awoke, begging your body to writhe on top of him and take what you were promised by force. But Walter was in no rush to unmake any part of you just yet. Securing one arm around the small of your back while the other held your jaw, he made you stare directly into his eyes. 

Bare more than ever, he allowed you to glimpse through the cracks that creased his beautiful blue eyes, showing you the pure terror harbouring the heart of darkness that lived within him. 

Perhaps, a part of him desired you to break and cast him away from you, to say ‘nevermore.’

Mercy softened your face instead. 

Enamoured and embroiled with curiosity, you allowed yourself to roam freely, gliding both your eyes and fingertips to descend the delectable plains of his body. Tender and careful, you stroked a soothing touch over the elevated scar tissue the way one pets a wounded creature, your gentle caress painting over the large claw mark that marked him years ago and left him cursed.

Walter followed the movement of your hand. His chest sinking with a low roar, his cock twitched and swelled inside your protesting canal while he remained immobilised and kept himself sheltered in the warmth of your sanctuary.

“Last night,” he finally spoke, his voice soft yet drenched with hesitation while his eyes dropped to stare into nothing for a shy moment. “Last night, when I turned... I… killed someone…” 

Your heart clenched in anguish along with the seams of your cunt. All the hurt that flowed in Walter’s blood now mingled into yours, ascending your body from the spot where you were coupled. 

What you wanted most of all was not to run. No. You desired to suck the poison tainting his veins and swallow it instead, unable to bring yourself to do anything but love him more than you did earlier. 

Spreading your legs further to each side of his hips, you moved closer and wrapped your arms around him. Nails biting into his muscular back you clutched him tightly, making a firm statement of your unwillingness to spite him for his actions. 

Because, even a beast needs to be protected and cared for. 

* Disclaimer: I don’t own Night Hunter/Nomis or Walter Marshall * Dividers by @firefly-graphics​​

[hedgehog-moss]

The Neverending Story is so good! I've never actually come across anyone else who had read it, and I also agree with your analogy!

I loved this book so much as a kid! It had exactly the kind of surreal, "no rhyme or reason” worldbuilding that delighted me. Summarising it feels like attempting to describe absurdist poetry. The good part starts with the giant egg that vomits a ladder made of words, right? And each rung is a sentence and as you climb up you realise the Word Ladder is telling you to go away. You ignore it and get inside the egg and it contains the book (the one you’re reading). Then

you burst forth from the egg with the seed of the Night Forest which turns into a multicoloured desert during the day, with the Many-Coloured Death gallopping across (it’s a lion)

the lion carries you to his tomb, and dies. You go through a house with too many doors, including one that has to be unbuttoned.

beyond that door you get to a city where every house is a ship on a lake of tears (because the founders of the city were so ugly they wept all day long)

you send a friend to fight a kangaroo dragon with baby hands who lives in a castle surrounded by moats of nitric acid. You made this up so your friend could feel like a hero.

The dragon has an old man’s head and an old woman’s head where his eyes should be.

you get an old mule and meet the ugly beings who sob all day. They hate themselves and think they don’t deserve to exist and you basically agree so you turn them into butterflies. Inevitably they make hideous butterflies, with receding hairlines (yes) and clown faces.

you are joined by odd creatures (an army of ants with helmets, walking puddles, birds with flute beaks, etc) as you cross a forest of giant carnivorous orchids. The evil orchid forest is inhabited by a witch who lives in a castle shaped like a hand with eyes. She wears purple silk and mind-controls hollow people. She brainwashes you for a few months, she’s amazing

you get rid of your old mule because the witch said it’s ugly. Your ugly mule bursts into sobs. You tell her that at least she’s got a cool story for the grandkids and she’s like “Mules are sterile, idiot” so you promise her that a virile swan-stallion will impregnate her with hybrid babies and she’s all cheered up (whatever you say comes true, unfortunately)

You meet wise monks with bird heads. You

become Emperor

go insane

try to murder your best friend.

You end up in a gloomy city and a monkey tells you it is inhabited by former Emperors and Empresses who have gone insane. There are hundreds of them, dressed in crazy ways and busy doing crazy things (one is shaving a mirror, another pasting postage stamps on soap bubbles). The monkey uses them for his entertainment. Everything about this is creepy

the monkey sends you to the Sea of Mist, which can be crossed with ships propelled by thoughts. The mist sailors sing calm songs and are very nice so you find them boring (you’re a terrible person)

you reach an adorable pumpkin cottage! Inhabited by a woman who wears a dress made of fruit. As she happily waters herself with a watering can, you realise the fruit isn’t her clothing but is actually growing out of her body like other people grow hair. You feel a bit weird about having eaten so much of her fruit.

she’s like hey it’s cool, when you were a baby you drank milk that your mother made with her body and that’s exactly the same thing. She wants to keep you as her baby and she puts you to sleep in a crib. You stay with her for weeks and whenever something reminds you that you should leave, you suddenly get a strange craving for fruit.

you manage to leave and you meet a blind miner who extracts people’s dreams. You go down the mine shaft to grab a dream but it is destroyed by the ugly butterfly-clowns when they try to kidnap you because they love you.

you find your friend Atreyu who forgives you for the murder attempt, you drink rainbow water and you get to go home, but more importantly, what happened to the witch? Unfortunately she was trampled to death by the hooves of giant metallic horses. She mind-controlled the riders so it’s kind of implied she chose to die? Without anyone to mind-control them, the monstrous horses and their hollow riders remain motionless for all eternity, slowly sinking into the ground and eventually forming a landscape of eerie ruins that future generations will believe to be haunted.

[masseffectfancodex]

Sol Lacerti - Turian Fauna - Mass Effect Fan Codex

Size and Characteristics

The Sol Lacerti is a large lizard ranging in a variety of colors, including tan, orange, green and gray. Their skin is rough and durable.

It takes 8 to 9 years for full maturity, and they may live up to 30.

Males have a range of meaty spine scutes in varying shades of orange similar to the stegosaurus from earth. A male can be 8 to 9 feet in length and weight about 200 lbs when full grown

Females grow to 6 feet. They have a bony ridge but not the decorative meaty scutes their male counterparts have.

Sol Lacerti have good vision; they can see objects as far away as 985 feet (300 m), They can run briefly up to 13 mph (20 kph) but prefer to hunt by stealth — waiting for hours until prey cross their path.

Diet: Sol Lacerti are cannibalistic carnivores. They are such fierce hunters they can eat very large prey including unwary Turians. They can eat 80 percent of their body weight in one feeding.

Offspring: They are generally solitary outside of mating season. Males maintain and defend a territory and patrol up to 1.2 miles (2 kilometers) per day. Females can reproduce through both sexual and asexual reproduction. Laying anywhere from 20 to 30 eggs in a clutch with no parental care. When the young hatch they must first cut through the shell of their egg and then dig themselves out of the nest before they run away, climbing trees to escape their mother and bigger Sol Lacerti. When born, babies are on average 12 inches long.

While eggs come out male or female they found that temperature can change those parameters. Eggs that are kept at a steady 25°C come out male.

Random Facts: While both are edible, it is the males that are the most sought after for the better presentation. After hours of cooking those spines are easily pulled away.

Great care is taken to incubate the eggs at just the right temperature to ensure the maximum male birth rate. Creating a huge gap between male and female price tags. The excess males are headed towards the meat market, making females a protected commodity.

While it is not rare to find the Sol Lacerti in the wild, the vast majority of them are Females due to average temperature in their natural habitat.

At one time in history, the male population of the Sol Lacerti were heavily hunted, the larger the male the better, both for game and traditional medicine focusing on virility.

As a Meal A Traditional Sol Lacerti meal is served with raw or steamed reedy vegetables and and aged fruit sauce. (Kind of like eating ribs, the male spine meat would be the choicest cut of the animals.)

By BerryShiara

[hardcoreprocess]

anonymous said: "long hair symbolic of peace"? elaborate?

I was inspired by this post about the complexities of a culture that views the act of cutting hair as a precursor to violence or war, and talked with a close friend about what this application might mean for Derse and Prospit specifically.

The conclusion is that Derse views hair as a symbol of maintenance and patience. For instance, young unmarried people are encouraged to seek a slightly older, established Dersite with hair to their shoulders or longer. Reasoning behind this is that it takes a lot of time and effort to keep long hair in a region where having a wet head for too long can kill you. Not to mention the potential for tangles and other snarls. Cutting your hair is a sign of lost temper or fury, a visual severance from patience, and the more hair cut is equal the weight of one’s anger.

In Prospit, having a lot of hair is considered a symbol of virility and fertility, as the act of growing so much is indicative of one’s bodily ability to “produce” and “maintain.” This reflects the high amounts of labor and eating one must do in the Golden Kingdom. If you have time and nutrients to grow beautiful hair, you must be able to bear very healthy children. It is traditional to cut your hair when attempting to sire or bear children for this reason, to direct all that fertile power where it belongs. Young people are cautioned against a lover that only trims an inch or two when the time comes for coupling.

In the Silver Age of the Carnivore King, his hair grew quickly and reached his back’s center by the time the great divide between Derse and Prospit occurred. In the royal fury his wife, the beautiful Renetrix, and Ambroxeus shared, the couple shore their hair to their ears and sent the resulting crate to the Matron of Prospit. Alongside this delivery was a formal declaration of war. All of Derse knows of this great sacrifice.

However, the Matron Des'rnaen was cunning. She ordered that the hair be woven into intricate ropes and strung with jewels, which she then began to wear. It was a beautiful display, and a sensual one to adorn herself with a literal piece of the Dersite’s persons. When enough public appearances spurred national outcry and confusion? Her justification was simple.

She declared, “The King of Derse, barbarian that he is, attempted to solicit my peace in matters of his nation’s trickery. He sent this hair to bribe Prospit with strong children, and he was shunned for such presumptuous perversion. I will keep his smut-gift to scorn, for he is a pitiful man.” And Prospit believed her, whispering among themselves about the barbarian, the whore, the sexual deviant of Derse and his witch of a wife.

Needless to say, people were pretty pissed off in the south.

[sleazygoing]

          i think one of vernon’s many very inadvisable ‘friends’ is an extremely bad and concerning cosmetic surgeon who is probably going to get some kind of disease because he thinks his exclusively carnivorous diet makes him virile

[schmergo]

I know I've said this before, but I'll say it again: I love giant pandas, but they probably should be extinct.

I know this is a very controversial opinion to hold in the nation's capital, but they are evolutionary jokes and self-sabotagers to boot. If you look up pandas' scientific classification, they are in the order Carnivora. That means they have the digestive system of a carnivore. But what do pandas like to eat? All together, children: BAMBOO! Almost exclusively! One of the least nutrient-rich foods around for a carnivore's digestive system! That's right, they're basically the cute fuzzy version of a person who eats nothing but Twizzlers.

They derive extremely little energy and protein from bamboo and compensate by eating HUGE amounts of bamboo every day, spending almost all of their time eating just to obtain enough energy to go through basic life functions. Because bamboo has flowering, death, and regeneration seasons, a panda must also live in an environment with at least two different species of bamboo available so they don't starve to death due to a lack of bamboo. So let's see, very picky possibilities for environment AND they go through a huge amount of bamboo every day... that must mean they are accustomed to migrating around to find new habitats?

Sort of. They move between the mountains and valleys to get the nutrients they need, but, like I said, they are VERY low on energy and don't always get around so well. Did I mention that the nutrient-rich bamboo shoots are only available at high altitudes in the summer? Pandas who don't get to those protein-rich shoots on time suffer from low protein and calcium... which, of course, makes it even HARDER to get to the top of the mountains. Thanks to humans destroying pandas' habitats, there's an even more limited number of places where pandas can reliably live and eat.

Another factor here is mating. Pandas are, by nature, solitary creatures. Their brief mating season is between March and May. A female's estrus lasts for 2 to 3 days and only occurs once a year. So pandas are only interested in meeting up with other pandas when the feeling strikes... BUUUUT they live far away from each other, so they have to find each other... ANNNND they are low on energy because of the lack of nutrition in their diet.... so they don't always find each other in that narrow window of time, and when they DO, they often still lack energy to actually mate. Oh yeah, also, they usually give birth to twins but typically only nurture the stronger one and let the weaker one die, so that's another mark against them in the ''propagating the species" category.

Scientists do everything they can to encourage pandas to mate in captivity, but it's not easy. They often seem to lose what little interest they have in mating while in captivity. Maybe they get sick of seeing each other? Zookeepers have literally shown pandas videos of other pandas mating to try to get them in the mood, or given male pandas drugs to, erm, encourage virility.

Artificial insemination is still a more reliable method. The patriarch of the panda family at the National Zoo, Tian Tian, has fathered three surviving cubs and a few cubs who did not survive, all through artificial insemination. He and his mate, Mei Xiang, have been given many opportunities to mate naturally and have attempted to do so... but in their NINETEEN YEARS together at the National Zoo, they have NEVER gotten the positioning correct to conceive. Possibly because it requires more athleticism than bamboo-crazed Tian Tian is capable of. (Tian Tian weighs 275 pounds, larger than male pandas in the wild and over 50 pounds heavier than his mate.) See, even when pandas eat enough bamboo to maintain energy and are living in the same exhibit, there's no guarantee of successful mating.

Despite all this, pandas are a well-known symbol of conservation and human efforts have helped to reverse some of the habitat loss and low reproduction rates of wild pandas. In 2016, they were reclassified from 'endangered' to 'vulnerable.' Jolly good show to the humans, but let's be real: these little dorks are not exactly pulling their own weight!

[eroticshortstories4women]

Cunnilingus . . .

There are a lot of women out there, that actually don’t want their pussy licked.  Some prefer intercourse, others find it’s too sensitive, or doesn’t feel as good. I mean sure it’s okay if she truly doesn’t like it.  Each woman is unique. But…. lets not forget the fact that the clitoris was designed for only one purpose, and that purpose is pleasure.

A lot of women that don’t like their pussy licked, often aren’t sexually satisfied, intercourse may make them feel like it’s enough, mainly because she simply doesn’t know there is a “ next level” of pleasure beyond what it can offer. This especially applies to women that aren’t actively exploring their sexuality, and their favorite position is missionary.

You can always tell the difference between a woman who orgasms and a woman who doesn’t. Even in simple daily interactions with women. The happier go lucky cashier at the grocery store that is always lively and energetic, with a zest for life, that woman is having orgasms.  The woman that fights for 2 hours to get 12 cents removed off her bill…. isn’t. It’s a state of being that can easily be distinguished.  

The female orgasm removes stress, and anxiety from her life.  She is able to feel good in her body, and since orgasm charges her body, rather than drains it, like in men, daily problems don’t have the same impact. They don’t create a negative state of being, she can easily see the problem, and respond, rather than react to it.  In other words, a woman with frequent orgasms, tend to make better decisions, and remain in a positive mindset.

While intercourse may provide some orgasmic benefits, it’s really nothing compared to an oral orgasm, especially from a submissive male in a D/s FLR. The reason why so many women don’t feel like they want oral, or it’s that their too sensitive, is mostly because men suck at it. When it’s not done properly a tongue can be like sandpaper on a sensitive clit. No wonder she doesn’t want it.  She has to be in the mood for it. And that is the problem for many women.

I’ve talked about female desire before, and how a lot of women feel like they should be the desired ones, without having their own desire.  Without having her own desire, her body doesn’t get sexually charged the same way.  If she does have her own desire, she’s going to crave any kind of stimulation she can get, especially in a D/s dynamic.  Many women that discover their dominance, suddenly start craving feeling her submissive’s tongue, because her body is sexually charged, and she needs a release. 

That’s what makes a D/s FLR so interesting, because it really does unlock female sexuality to the point where, she’s going to crave sex in multiple ways and want to explore what her body was designed for.  When she has a submissive to direct exactly how to orally please her, without a male trying to make his best guess on how to please her….  Cunnilingus has a whole new dimension and a whole new meaning.

The extreme attentiveness of a submissive male, his focus and attention to her pleasure only, is a level of pleasure that will take her beyond any kind of intercourse.  The intimacy of having his face between her legs, and his tongue working in a manner that makes her extra sensitive clit ignite with pleasure, can’t be overstated. She’s going to be grabbing his hair and directing exactly how much pressure and where she wants, and she’s going to writhe around on the bed to explosive orgasms that will make her fall deeply in love with cunnilingus and her submissive’s tongue.

She’s going to start to want it more and more often, and as she denies him sex, maybe with chastity, it’s only going to turn her on more and more.  The depths of female sexuality become unlocked, and she will begin to discover herself on new levels.  Confidence will skyrocket, life will get easier, and better, and her relationship with her submissive will become cherished and adored and something neither of them can live without.

So eat pussy.  It’s the doorway to heaven, for both, dominant and submissive.

He Truly Loves Me!

I know my hubby loves me, because he finally let me lock his cock in a chastity cage - and although sometimes a little reluctant, He humbly ends up assuming his position over my knee for his corrective spanking.

Yes I know he loves me, as I take great delight in Teasing and "Edging" his beautifully engorged masculinity - again and again - using it’s tears as lube - As My gentle loving hands (gripping lightly) glide up and down - feeling each ridge, each fascinating swollen vein - listening to his plea’s and begging, his gasps and moans - feeling the furnace of testosterone burning within him - His cute air humping hips, smelling his musky addicting scent after holding his balls in my hand and feeling them dance until I believe he can’t take any more... Then when my feminine intuition tells me he's about to Cum (AND BRAIN DEAD) I suddenly and abruptly stop, without Allowing him An Orgasm... I simply wait, gently nurturing and caressing him, stroking his sexy six pack abs, his precious hairy male chest where his heart is pounding, his inner thighs - causing his balls to dance again - then when he’s calm I eventually slip his weakening deflating masculinity (with the help of ice) back in its chastity cage for me - and just me, his wife, his woman, his Queen, his Goddess, his Empress, His Governing Female - to play with again … whenever I want to … 

Yes I know he Loves Me - He Proves it Daily... 

My Favorite Sexual Things:

securely tying my drowsy naked man up to to our 4 post bed, before he fully awakens - in the morning - (Before he can go pee I might add)

gently, slowly and carefully teasing and playing with - his helpless – precious - intensifying -  “Morning Wood”

listening to his ever increasing passion..., desperation..., frustration...,  begging and breathing... As I take him, so easily   right to the edge...

mounting his face periodically, and orgasming loudly (specifically) for him to hear and enjoy my feminine bliss - He Loves Pleasing Me...

“lazily” nursing on his perpetually crying 9” cock of curved perfection, after he's orally pleasured me..., beautifully "stoking" his precious Libido

mounting his eager face once again after I've Deftly taken him right to the edge once again, and quickly flooding his avid mouth in My Euphoric Bliss

recovering from my divine climax, while laying on top of him, his desperate throbbing (vein filled) Joystick – Fully Incarcerated - Balls Deep within my covetous drenched (hyper sensitive) feminine loins …

slowly and cautiously I occasionally grind on his Pulsing  "Captive" Erection,   Making Sure He - {Remains} - Perfectly “Edged”

eventually I'll find myself unintentionally climaxing  again  on his Virile   Throbbing (Glorious) Incarcerated Manhood..., While He'll be perfectly acclimated to my tight wet "imprisonment" - which will ensure he doesn’t Accidentally Explode or Erupt - Deep Inside of me ...

eventually I'll withdraw my supersized (subjugated) STUD   from the depths of my euphoric loins, and lick his desperate 9” Cock of Perfection   CLEAN – Marveling at his Splendid Virility... And Amenable Subjugation...

Then, once he's Clean - I'll lay my head back down on his belly and again “Lazily”  Nurse ON  and  Tease  his  sweet, "Crying" - eternally  oozing -    9”   Manhood of  Throbbing  Pulsating Power...

eventually, I might just  tip him over the edge (after an hour or two, or a week of sadistic brewing) if I'm in a particular frisky rapacious mood...

The longer he goes without erupting, the more intense it is when he does. I adore watching or FEELING him Erupt SO HARD and SO MUCH – I’m always mesmerized, as stream after stream (of his pressurized cum) spurt endlessly into the depths of my savoring mouth or ravenous vagina... 

I suck and squeeze and swallow every last scrumptious drop from him.

Not stopping - I usually speed up the pace… spellbound and infatuated, and as he squeals and thrashes about in UTTER BLISS & ECSTASY ...

listening to his ever increasing desperation, frustration, and begging to STOP…   Please…. Understand  “He’s Completely Helpless”

admiring the sweaty, trembling, exhausted,  mess of a man convulsing underneath me (with a Glorious Super Sized Cock   That Just Won't Quit), entirely reliant upon my mercy - I eventually take mercy on my cherished subjugated Love - and stop fucking, sucking or stroking him...

I kiss him everywhere for being such a Perfect TOY for ME, reminding him how Magnificent and Precious He Is to me... His Mind is  "Desolate" !

Adoring his naked virile body with my carnivorous eyes and watching him blush while he’s still tied up and can’t hide it -  IS “Priceless” - His young Traumatized Powerful  COCK    doesn’t  shrink  or  deflate in the slightest.

Leaving him temporarily {it's like Velcro}, I'll fill the bathtub with warm water and Lavender Bath Beads, It’s Time Now for us to take our relaxing Saturday or Sunday morning bath together, in our over sized - oval tub.

His Relentless Erection is Still   Ultra  Rock Hard  for me..., as I untie him for our Leisurely Morning Bath Ritual AND suck him Clean one last time !!!

He stands in the shower and I finally Allow him to go pee - But he Can't - Not with Such a Hardon - But Then He Does, And What a Sight - Him peeing in the shower (up into the air 40 or 50 inches) Like a statue or fountain with a Raging 9 inch Erection...., Curved and Pointed straight up to the ceiling... WOW...

After thoroughly rinsing the shower walls, we crawl into the warm slippery bath tub together, to cuddle and relax in each others loving embrace...

Then after our warm relaxing bath finally (slowly) deflates him, I Lock his flaccid docile penis, back up in his chastity cage, for the rest of the day...

[krsonmar]

Okay so three things:

1.) I am so proud of him. Who's a mighty king? Your mane is coming in so handsome you good boy, you.❤��

2.) Lions are really interesting in terms of what could be considered equivalent to the human concept of gender...as humans have noted throughout history whenever we have encountered them. Male lions tend to be treated as symbols of masculine power, often of virility, and of positive portrayals of fatherhood. Lionesses tend to be viewed as symbols of individual power that is amplified by the strength of matriarchal communal bonds, feminine physical power and strength, regality, and general community ties. These are things humans put on them, but for reasons that make sense to us, as I'll explain:

For one thing, lion dads are generally really good and relatively involved dads compared to a lot of other species. The male lion usually visits his pride of lionesses and the cubs they've had with him between jaunts of patrolling his territory, and he will check in on the cubs and babysit while the moms take a break. Let me tell you, I have seen golden retrievers get fed up with their pups way faster than a father lion will with his cubs. These little cubs will be playing and rolling and wrestling and climbing all over him and this King of the Savannah apex predator is just lounging there letting them, or they'll actually hang off his ear by their teeth or chase his tail, and this giant carnivore is just sort of squinting and gritting his teeth as if to say, "Kids, we're getting a little rowdy now, let's ease off the sugar. Where'd your mom get to?" Find some nature videos online, lion dads with their cubs will melt your heart.

So while papa lions are generally good dads as far as the animal kingdom goes, they're actually lousy hunters. That trademark mane the males have? That's to protect them in fights with other male lions. Cats kill by going for the neck, either by using their canine teeth, those big stabby fangs, to separate the victim's vertebrae at the base of the skull from the rest of the spine, or by pulling out the throat. This is generally true of all cats, from your housecat to a big old Siberian tiger to a puma in a tree to, yes, an African lion on the Serengeti plains, and they do this to kill both prey and enemies. So when two male lions throw down, the one with the bigger mane has an advantage.

But that mane also gets in the way of his ability to hunt. He might be able to catch something small and weak or hurt, but an animal that size does not live on bunnies. The male lion can't really feed himself.

This is where the lionesses of the pride come in. One lioness by herself is a highly capable hunter--she can easily take down an antelope by herself that the male isn't agile enough to catch with that mane in the way--but a pride of lionesses working in tandem is not something you want to see coming toward you if you're a herd of water buffalo. They can easily pick out, separate, and take down an animal multiple times the size of one of their own bodies, and that's how the pride gets fed. The lionesses are taking care of themselves, each other, all their cubs...and the male lion, who can't effectively hunt for himself because of that big mane. He checks in from patrolling, gets fed, and makes sure the kids do their homework while the moms take a rest after felling a wildebeest.

My point here is, this gender non-conforming lion here is basically, at least in theory, able to do it all. AFAB, he probably learned how to hunt the way lionesses do, and probably still can at least until his mane grows in more, and when it does, he'll be able to guard the pride where his mom, aunts, sisters, younger brothers, and cousins live while Dad's out stalking the territory for threats. (At least theoretically; it'll be interesting to see if the pride expects him to, like his brothers, move out and attempt to start his own pride upon reaching maturity. That would require him to be able to impregnate females, though, although it did take humans until a couple thousand years ago to understand where babies come from, and I don't think lions have that figured out yet...so it would be interesting to see!) And if his mane stays half-grown, that could make him a double threat who can hunt and fight simultaneously! How cool would that be?!

And I didn't forget I said this made me think of three things. Thing Number Three is just to reiterate that I'm so proud of this good big handsome fella, like omg sweetie, I'm so happy to see you growing like a noble baobab tree standing tall on the Tanzanian plains into your ideal self grr you go get 'em, kiddo, represent!❤️😻🦁✨️🌈🤗✌️

lions are like transgendering lol

[fandomfrenzysworld]

Meet my new (although kinda old) sans! Yes, I know the drawing sucks, but I’m a noob when it comes to drawing, so I say it’s a success.

This is God-slayer sans. He’s the sans that was forged from the soul fragments of Blueberry, Dust, Nightmare, and Predator sans. However, he also absorbed a small amount of Xeno’s energy and a fragment of Lust’s soul in order to stabilize the mess of soul fragments. Xeno’s energy was to stabilize it, and Lust’s soul fragment was so he had a complete soul.

Description: Unlike most sans’, God-slayer stands on all fours. This is due to him having the body structure of a quadruped. Each one of his feet has four claws on them, and they sharpen or dull depending on his mood.

His height is three feet, and his body length is four feet.

The horns affixed to his head are smooth, but sharp at the tips and extremely durable. They can also change color depending on his mood.

However his biggest and most notable feature are the five tails expanding out from where his tailbone would be. His tails are like prehensile tentacles, and each tail measures out at four feet in length.

As for his face, he has slitted eyes like a serpent, and his teeth are sharp like a carnivorous predator.

Personality: His personality is dependent on his location and who is nearby him.

When left in a quiet area with no one that bothers him around, he’s very docile and harmless.

When put in a noisy area with people that agitate him, he becomes irritable and restless.

When put near a deity of any sort, no matter the location, he gets extremely mad. Whilst like this, he’ll do one of three things:

1. Let them do whatever they’re doing and wait for them to leave.

2. Try to lose them by running off.

3. Go bat-sh*t crazy and try to wound/murder them.

These outcomes are also affected by what the god or goddess is doing, and he can shift between them during the encounter.

Powers and abilities: He can walk on any surface, travel between different universes, increase the length of his tails by shortening the ones he isn’t making longer, regenerate, feed off of emotions to get temporarily stronger or to satisfy hunger, create a slimy substance that’s sticky and can dampen energy flows such as magic, fire beams of energy from his mouth, and release roars that can shatter magic barriers.

He also has increased senses and strength.

Weaknesses: Should he go into a frenzy of anger, he throws caution to the wind and shuts down his healing factor to boost his other abilities, poison will nullify his healing and make his senses become dampened to the point where he can’t rely on them to get a clear picture of his surroundings, and he is very slow to trust others, even when his life depends on him giving them his trust.

+18 facts (you’ve been warned):

-Since he’s part Lust, he loves to see the pleasured expression of others. Especially when he’s the one pleasuring.

-Consuming lustful emotions will get him slightly drunk.

-He has not one, not two, but three penises. They can fuse together in order to shift their sizes like his tails.

-His penises come come equipped with knots.

-His penises are eight inches long and one inch thick.

-He loves to to be dominant.

-He treats his partner(s) lovingly and with care.

-He can control the virility of his sperm.

-His tails can release aphrodisiacs of varying strength.

-He prefers to have more than one person to pleasure at a time, but he’s fine with pleasuring just one.

[avahuang]

Fox and Bird

The fox was curled up in the grove when the heron found him. He looked up with heterochromatic eyes--was it just a trick of the light?--as she settled down in the grass in a flurry of wings.

“Hello, fancy seeing you again.”

“Bird. What brought you here?”

“Well, I’m heading home to my colony. But while I was enjoying the stillness of a perfect April night I had a sudden premonition that a familiar fox was tucked away below reading an extremely sad book, and was compelled to pay you a visit.”

The fox self-consciously draped a front leg over the cover of his novel. “Hypothesis: literature is real and everything else just happens to be.”

“You don’t believe that. You can’t be immersed in the beauty of the physical world and have the dew on your paws and believe that. What’s wrong?”

The fox yawned languidly and stretched his body. “I’ve been thinking about indecision. Often when I’m in conflict with my girlfriend, I entertain a thought experiment where I model that her brain works according to the laws of quantum mechanics and she’s in some sort of superposed state. So, for example, State A is that she’s thinking “I love Wesley and he’s a devoted boyfriend,” and State B is “I’m sick of Wesley’s bullshit and I’m going to go fuck another fox.” Now, it’s very difficult for me to live with not knowing whether she’s in State A or State B, so I can choose to force her into an eigenstate, i.e. make her pick a stance. But this can end up negatively impacting the situation, and I think I’ve just ended up wishing that I had just left things superposed.”

“You’re saying she fucked the other fox.”

“She did, and it was exquisitely painful. But now I’m left with a philosophical dilemma about eigenstates and I have no data to support my claims either way. It’s all just speculation.”

“You’re overthinking it. When I met my husband I was drinking at the river and we made eye contact and the only dilemma was who was going to fly over to whom. And look at us now: every day he wakes me up by dropping whatever remains from his morning meal into my beak. Compatibility is the result of commitment, not a precondition. I think you believe that you have a philosophical dilemma but you’re really just heartbroken.”

“I’m not denying that. Also, the two aren’t mutually exclusive.”

“I’d offer to let you follow me home, but you’d cause quite an inconvenient stir and I’m afraid you’d be tempted to eat the little ones. But we can walk south together for a while.”

It was an uncommonly clear night and the moon was out above them. The fox observed the heron’s elongated orange beak and s-shaped neck with an appreciative eye. He would have been tempted to attack her if she was weakened, but fortunately she was in the prime of her life and he knew his odds based on size and speed weren’t great. He had been too busy sponging in his regret to properly focus on hunting as of late. The familiar hunger pulled at him.

“Stop looking at me like that,” the heron snapped.

“I’m sorry. I’m a carnivore. You smell really good.”

“You act like you’re just a slave to your instincts. But personality isn’t primitive—we arrive at it—and you have a well-developed personality. You have moral resources.”

“I’ve read too much Spinoza. Deus sive natura, natura naturans. Oh wait—“ he paused “—I smell rabbit. Give me a moment, will you?”

There was rustling, a rapidfire chase, and the sound of jaws sinking into velvety flesh. The fox emerged from the bushes with a gleam in his eyes and small flecks of blood on his muzzle.

“Excuse you.”

The fox sighed. “There are moments when I can feel my whole existence reduced to the joy of consumption. No more worrying about who’s licking Amritha’s muzzle, no more about whether the kits will grow up okay, just warm flesh and the placid limpness of a freshly dead body.”

“So you’d rather be an unthinking animal.”

“I wouldn’t say that sentience increases happiness as compared to a pure instinctual life.”

“And yet you didn’t eat me when you pulled me from the river two years ago.”

“Yeah, well, I pitied you. You know what Spinoza says about pity?”

“It’s an expensive emotion for a predator with a relatively short lifespan?”

“Sure, we can go with that. And now I get to have a bird interrupt my solitude. That’s my reward.”

The heron shrugged. “I wouldn’t worry too much about it. Your solitude will be punctured sooner or later by a heartbreakingly beautiful female fox in heat next year during breeding season. You’re young and virile.”

“Another hypothesis: life is just disputing over carcasses with wolves, good-naturedly dealing with the consequences of a hierarchy that is set from the time you are a cub, and trying to write a novel even though you know you have no ear for narrative.”

“Stop it. Here, I’ll tell you some good news: I just laid my first batch of eggs. Five of them, pale blue. Their dad is incubating them right now. In approximately 14 days they’ll hatch and then I’ll have chicks that I’ll feed by regurgitating food into their mouths. And then two months later they’ll take their first flight. Because you didn’t eat me, I’ve spawned a new generation. I know that may seem arbitrary in the grand scheme of things, but the great truth of life is that the arbitrary is made miraculous by sheer improbability. I’ve been given, and therefore had the chance to give the gift of existence. I would encourage you to recognize all pain that seems specific is in fact generalized, by which I mean unoriginal, and you’re more likely have a perfectly fulfilling life by satisfying all your biological needs without taking any of them too seriously. To put it another way: in practical life we are compelled to follow what is most probable. It’s only in speculative thought that we’re compelled to follow truth.”

“You have read Spinoza. Congratulations on motherhood.”

The heron winked. “I’ll try not to raise illiterate children. Good night.”

They had reached the edge of the water, which streamed by in a white rush to the sea. The fox watched as the heron spread her great dappled wings and flapped until she was just a distant dot in the sky. It was spring in Southern California, which meant the aromatic smell of sage pervaded the air and blazing yellow wildflowers dotted the dry ground. He could very faintly sense rodent life moving through tunnels underground. The sky was a predawn indigo.

He yawned again. It was late. The world was heartbreakingly beautiful in its aliveness. The world was very boring. He felt like reading another book.  

[milajye]

she  scoffs.      but  even  in  her  deference  she  is  painstakingly  elegant.      precise.      an  amalgamation  of  strict  glances,    and  rich  armor,    and  gold  -  trimmed  edges.      womanhood  fronted  by  warriordom.      imagines  that  you  know  more  than  most  about  what  it  means  to  be  bare  your  teeth.      (  that  crowns  are  coated  in  blood  as  often  as  they  are  glory  )      THAT  WORLDS  THRIVE  BETWEEN  GNASHING  FANGS.      we  have  seen  the  beauty  of  kingdoms  but  we  have  seen  the  ruin  of  them  too    /    learned  to  thrive  when  our  bodies  were  knee  deep  in  corpses        (  a  heart  aching  amid  festering  wounds  )        as  a  result,      it's  become  hard  to  separate  herself  from  the  vibrant  violence  that  has  seemed  to  encapsulate  them  the  last  few  years.    the  scent  of  it  is  too  heavy  and  too  thick.      a  virile  ocean  ebbing  against  the  back  of  her  skull.    a  slithering  tongue  along  the  rope  of  her  vertebrae.      a  carnivore  coming  to  nourish  itself  on  her  spinal  fluid.      her  demeanor  teeters  between  calm  and  stoic.      GENERAL  /  SISTER      do  you  imagine  they  blend  together  or  has  one  consumed  the  other?      (  and  which?  )      ❝  you  focus  too  much  of  your  energy  on  what  lies  ahead  instead  of  what  lies  here,  beneath  your  feet.  ❞      yet  even  with  the  approach  of  a  tsk,  an  echo  of  a  grin  slips  out.    ❝  but  i  suppose  someone  should.  ❞

@techdesigned​   sent   “ the future isn’t some far-flung flight of fantasy “

[versatilepoetry]

The Omnipresent Creator Is Ours.

Yes. Yes. Yes. Where am I denying it. As you say; the entire wealth on this fathomlessly exhilarating planet; might be yours and solely yours; O! vapidly greedy and pernicious man, Yes. Yes. Yes. Where am I denying it. As you say; the entire strength on this timelessly bewitching planet; might be yours and solely yours; O! vindictively stabbing and cold-blooded man, Yes. Yes. Yes. Where am I denying it. As you say; the entire sparkle on this beautifully eclectic planet; might be yours and solely yours; O! salaciously pulverizing and malicious man, Yes. Yes. Yes. Where am I denying it. As you say; the entire desires on this wonderfully untainted planet; might be yours and solely yours; O! devastatingly delinquent and victimizing man, Yes. Yes. Yes. Where am I denying it. As you say; the entire talent on this stupendously charming planet; might be yours and solely yours; O! treacherously crucifying and wanton man, Yes. Yes. Yes. Where am I denying it. As you say; the entire virility on this perennially fructifying planet; might be yours and solely yours; O! unbelievably murderous and massacring man, Yes. Yes. Yes. Where am I denying it. As you say; the entire freedom on this jubilantly galloping planet; might be yours and solely yours; O! satanically perverted and idiosyncratic man, Yes. Yes. Yes. Where am I denying it. As you say; the entire fame on this ubiquitously vivid planet; might be yours and solely yours; O! tyrannically assassinating and incarcerated man, Yes. Yes. Yes. Where am I denying it. As you say; the entire versatility on this tirelessly proliferating planet; might be yours and solely yours; O! chauvinisctically distorted and maniacal man, Yes. Yes. Yes. Where am I denying it. As you say; the entire robustness on this amazingly emancipating planet; might be yours and solely yours; O! truculently lambasted and squelched man, Yes. Yes. Yes. Where am I denying it. As you say; the entire prosperity on this interminably insuperable planet; might be yours and solely yours; O! barbarously bohemian and diabolical man, Yes. Yes. Yes. Where am I denying it. As you say; the entire fragrance on this fearlessly patriotic planet; might be yours and solely yours; O! lecherously parasitic and impoverished man, Yes. Yes. Yes. Where am I denying it. As you say; the entire optimism on this triumphantly unbridled planet; might be yours and solely yours; O! ominously cowardly and cannibalistic man, Yes. Yes. Yes. Where am I denying it. As you say; the entire vibrancy on this beautifully silken planet; might be yours and solely yours; O! hedonistically betraying and venomous man, Yes. Yes. Yes. Where am I denying it. As you say; the entire celebration on this timelessly sparkling planet; might be yours and solely yours; O! sadistically carnivorous and vituperative man, Yes. Yes. Yes. Where am I denying it. As you say; the entire enigma on this miraculously mitigating planet; might be yours and solely yours; O! cadaverously grotesque and oblivious man, Yes. Yes. Yes. Where am I denying it. As you say; the entire sensuality on this bountifully burgeoning planet; might be yours and solely yours; O! greedily beheading and uncouth man, Yes. Yes. Yes. Where am I denying it. As you say; the entire population on this romantically everlasting planet; might be yours and solely yours; O! abominably monstrous and sinful man, Yes. Yes. Yes. Where am I denying it. As you say; the entire love on this symbiotically blissful planet; might be yours and solely yours; O! dangerously abhorrent and diseased man, But remember and please do always keep this nailed into your sanctimoniously prejudiced head; that ever since the time that this earth was evolved and right till the moment that it continues to harmoniously exist; the Omnipotent Lord was; is and shall forever be; as much mine and everybody else's; as he was yours, O! yes; the Omnipresent Creator was equally of each trace of living civilization that symbiotically thrives on this boundless Universe; the Omnipresent Creator is irrefutably and immortally of all of us; the Omnipresent Creator is ours