#Uncultivated

[moaan]

Jack Russell Terrier Smiling in the Field of Flowers by Katsuaki Shoda Via Flickr: Canon EOS 5D S R + Zeiss Makro-Planar T* 2/100 ZE

[alphaori]

Thousand Year City update: post-nut clarity can now purify poisons*

[gaytobymeres]

writing a fic rn where max and morse do some gardening together and ive just realised now, quite far into the fic, that english people do not use the word brambles and instead call them blackberries. i think?

[jhara-ivez]

3 days with my german family and I already realize that I hate all the german food.

So boring.

[cruelprincae]

@krvla sent from INTIMIDATION AND VIOLENT RP PROMPTS

Bone - sender breaks one of receiver’s bone / A finger. " It seems my traditional punishments have not sunk in for you yet. Do not fret , little brother. Bones heal. "

Though the horrible, deafening sound of breaking bones echoes into the sharp shell of his ear like eruptive bombs, it is the pain that Cardan feels first, jolting up his forearm and shooting through his body like a constellation of stars, prickling its way all the way to his limbs. It hurts, of course it hurts, but the Prince doesn't scream, no matter how badly he wishes to ― he will not give Balekin the immense satisfaction of hearing him scream; Instead, the elongated fangs bite hard into the inside of his cheek and swallow up the howling shriek until all it comes out is a gasping breath ― a sharp inhale of air that, due to the shock of it, falls short to fill his lungs.

Bones heal, Balekin says, but Margaret is no longer with him to tend to the callous injuries each of his punishments leave behind and himself knows very little regarding which mixture of herbs he ought to grind into ailment to will the pain away and conjure a fast recovery. Perhaps, the still looming absence of the aged mortal is precisely why he is being punished; or, maybe, it is the newest recruit's absence ― a young, human girl with a whole life ahead of her whom he had tediously returned to the mortal land the night prior ― that Balekin noticed. Or, rather, his reasoning behind such a cruel punishment can be narrowed down to the simple fact that Balekin simply could. It can be either, or all of them combined.

The muscles in the Fae's face tighten and his teeth clench as his good hand reaches to cradle the injured one against the silky texture of his shirt, as though such would be enough to soothe the pain. When he next looks up at his brother through furrowed brows, hatred burns as bright as coals behind his dark eyes, his face painted in a mixture of rage and spite. It is, perhaps, due to the latter that Cardan's lips curl into a cruel, humourless smile before he returns in a voice of perfect restrain;

❛ Maybe it is, those particular punishments of yours that make Father deem you as adequate as a lashing animal to take on the throne. Perhaps, you would be better off ruling in one of the many Unseelie Courts. You do share some remarkable similarities, after all. ❜

[stylistic-nightmare]

Vital Remains - Uncultivated Grave

[moonmothmama]

went out to check the eggplants in the garden and took a second to hang around the backyard with a bottle of kombucha listening to birds sing in the golden sunlight. it was pretty magical. my current living situation might be shit but there are good things to keep me going. like morning glories popping up out of nowhere all along one side of the backyard. most are purple, but a few are ghostly white, and so delicate that i can see my hand through them.

morning glories are special to me;

when i was little, my mom used to talk on the phone with Nan (her mother) every single morning. but the thing was, Nan would call super early in the morning. i used to be the only one awake, so i'd be the one to pick up the phone. i'd talk to my grandmother for a while and then hand the phone off to mom when she got up. i can so vividly remember her saying "hello Morning Glory!" through the beige corded landline telephone

her favorite color was purple

those morning glories growing up along the fence are like a balm on my soul.

[moaan]

Dandelion by Katsuaki Shoda Via Flickr: Canon EOS R6m2 + RF50mm F1.2 L USM

[thewriteadviceforwriters]

100 Vocabulary Words for Gothic Fiction | For Writers

Hello Writers! I've put together a list of 100 words to help you expand your vocabulary for writing gothic fiction in October. I categorized the words for easy reference. I did some research using thesauruses and dictionaries to compile this list for you. I hope you find it helpful! 👻🎃

Atmospheric Words

Tenebrous - dark and gloomy

Oppressive - overwhelming and unpleasantly powerful

Ominous - suggesting evil or harm is imminent

Eerie - strange and frightening

Uncanny - mysterious and unsettling

Nefarious - wicked or criminal

Malevolent - having evil intentions

Sinister - giving the impression of evil

Melancholy - deep sadness

Lugubrious - mournful or dismal

Sombre - dark and gloomy

Dreary - dull and depressing

Desolate - empty and lonely

Bleak - cold and depressing

Dank - unpleasantly damp and cold

Character Descriptions

Pallid - abnormally pale

Gaunt - thin and bony

Haggard - looking exhausted and unwell

Cadaverous - corpse-like

Wan - pale and sickly

Spectral - ghost-like

Enigmatic - mysterious and difficult to understand

Brooding - appearing darkly thoughtful

Tortured - suffering mentally or physically

Macabre - disturbing due to focus on death or injury

Architectural Features

Gothic - relating to medieval style architecture

Dilapidated - in a state of disrepair

Decrepit - worn out or ruined due to age

Crumbling - breaking into small fragments

Decaying - rotting or decomposing

Ramshackle - in a state of severe disrepair

Crypt - underground room or vault

Turret - small tower on a building

Parapet - low protective wall along the edge of a roof

Buttress - structure built against a wall for support

Supernatural Elements

Apparition - ghost or spirit

Phantasm - figment of the imagination

Specter - ghost or phantom

Wraith - ghost or spirit

Revenant - person who returns as a spirit after death

Ethereal - extremely delicate and light

Otherworldly - belonging to an imaginary or spiritual world

Paranormal - beyond normal explanation

Preternatural - beyond what is normal in nature

Occult - supernatural or magical

Emotions and States of Mind

Dread - great fear or apprehension

Foreboding - fearful apprehension

Trepidation - fear or anxiety about something that may happen

Anguish - severe mental or physical pain

Despair - complete loss of hope

Melancholia - deep and long-lasting sadness

Hysteria - exaggerated or uncontrollable emotion

Delirium - state of confusion and hallucination

Madness - state of severe mental illness

Obsession - persistent disturbing preoccupation with an idea or feeling

Gothic Settings

Moor - area of open, uncultivated upland

Wasteland - barren or desolate area

Labyrinth - complex maze-like structure

Catacomb - underground cemetery

Dungeon - dark underground prison

Mausoleum - building housing a tomb or tombs

Sepulcher - small room or monument where a dead person is laid

Necropolis - large cemetery, especially an ancient one

Citadel - fortress that commands a city

Monastery - building occupied by a community of monks

Weather and Natural Phenomena

Tempest - violent windy storm

Miasma - unpleasant or unhealthy smell or vapor

Fog - thick cloud of tiny water droplets

Mist - cloud of tiny water droplets in the air near ground level

Gloom - partial or total darkness

Twilight - soft glowing light from the sky when the sun is below the horizon

Umbra - the fully shaded inner region of a shadow

Penumbra - the partially shaded outer region of a shadow

Crepuscular - resembling twilight; dim

Tenebrous - dark, shadowy, or obscure

Literary Devices and Narrative Elements

Foreshadowing - warning or indication of a future event

Omen - event regarded as a portent of good or evil

Portent - sign or warning that a momentous or calamitous event is likely to happen

Harbinger - person or thing that announces or signals the approach of another

Presage - sign or warning that something will happen

Doppelganger - look-alike or double of a living person

Grotesque - comically or repulsively ugly or distorted

Gothic double - character representing the duality of human nature

Unreliable narrator - narrator whose credibility is compromised

Frame narrative - story within a story

Liminal Spaces and Concepts

Threshold - strip of wood or stone forming the bottom of a doorway

Liminal - occupying a position at, or on both sides of, a boundary or threshold

Betwixt - in between

Interstitial - of, forming, or occupying interstices (small spaces between things)

Twilight zone - undefined or intermediate area between two distinct states

Purgatory - place or state of temporary suffering or expiation

Netherworld - imaginary subterranean world of the dead

Abyss - deep or seemingly bottomless chasm

Void - completely empty space

Chthonic - concerning, belonging to, or inhabiting the underworld

Miscellaneous Gothic Terms

Sublime - of such excellence, grandeur, or beauty as to inspire awe

Ineffable - too great or extreme to be expressed or described in words

Eldritch - weird and sinister or ghostly

Atavistic - relating to or characterized by reversion to something ancient or ancestral

Numinous - having a strong religious or spiritual quality; indicating the presence of a divinity

Happy writing, and Happy October! 📜🕯️- Rin T.

[prokopetz]

The way the word "wasteland" is used in fantasy fiction can crash into its historical usage in interesting ways because the word "waste" in this context used to just mean "uncultivated" (i.e., not being used for food production), so you see the word "wasteland" in historical documents, and based on the fantasy trope you're picturing, like, volcanoes and shit, and then the wasteland in question is literally just a forest.

[jollyhunter]

⋆ ˚｡⋆ PAIRING Dean Winchester x Writer!Reader [Early seasons vibe]

WARNINGS None! No use of Y/N. English isn't my native language.

⋆ ˚｡⋆ SUMMARY You're in your favourite diner; Got your coffee, breakfast, laptop in front of you. It's the perfect time to write. If it wasn't for the writer's block that's holding you in a chokehold. Oh, and the guy who has decided to join you.

⋆ ˚｡⋆ WORDS ~2k

⋆ ˚｡⋆ J/NOTES This silly little thing's dedicated to all my moots who’ve fallen victim to the writer’s curse just like me. I feel you. We can do this!! We can break the curse!!! 🫂

"Doesn’t suit you." A playful voice snaps you out of your thoughts.

"..Huh?" You look up just in time to see a well-worn leather jacket brush past your shoulder.

The booth seat across from you is being filled as a stranger slides in. A plate in one hand and a spoon in the other. Your eyebrows rise, and for a moment you debate whether to tell him the seat is taken.

But the guy doesn’t seem to notice your thoughts. He’s busy ogling his food, humming a curious ‘hm’, and then shoving a spoonful of cereal into his mouth. All the while he continues to mutter, his words now half muffled, "That thing you’re doing to your face."

You blink at him.

He puffs his cheeks, and green eyes travel up to meet yours for the first time, "Makes you look like the Grinch." His lips quirk into a smirk.

What? The audacity.

You stare at him with a deadpan. "Thanks for the compliment." He continues to chew, the flakes crunching. Accompanied by a content hum. Well, at least someone’s enjoying their breakfast.

"Just sayin’." He purses his lips before he eats another spoon, his cheeks stuffed like a chipmunk’s and an eyebrow arched. "What’s up with the face, sweetheart?"

"Uh," - is all you can manage at the moment. Too distracted by the way he's guzzling his yoghurt like a starved caveman. All eyes fluttered closed and nodding to himself like he's thinking ‘Finally, some good fucking food’.

He swallows. Tongue darts out to swipe a white dribble off his upper lip. When his eyes suddenly snap open, you avert yours in record time.

Your gaze's now fixed to the edge of the table, as if it’s the most interesting thing in the room. Left and right of it an elbow each. Of course you had to drop your gaze right between his arms. Well, this is awkward.

"You working on somethin'?" He suddenly asks, and you startle like a deer.

Your lips part - ready to form an answer - when you watch him splotching your notebook in slow-motion.

Your eyebrows twitch in irritation. You dart out a hand, just managing to pull your papers back before another dribble of his slobber taints your notes.

"Dude, please, you’re eating like a barn animal," you comment under your breath, face scrunched up as you wipe the stain off your paperback. Way to lose ones charm.

"But a handsome one," he quickly retorts. And stuffs another spoon into his wide grin, swallows and jerks his chin at your laptop. "So?"

Okay, fine. Maybe he still does have charm.

Your eyes follow his gaze down to the screen facing your way.

"I’m writing," you reply flatly, trying to hold his curious gaze as you tuck your papers safely under your forearms.

His expression flashes into a surprised one. Probably more at your tone than the answer itself.

Granted, the words 'I'm writing' should have come out enthusiastic. They at least used to. But that was before you’d been staring at a white screen for what felt like weeks.

"Uh-huh," he mumbles, the sound muffled as he keeps shovelling the muesli down his hatch. "Can I see?"

"W-what?"

How- how dare he? Only an uncultivated potato would ask that. This is like the biggest No-No. One does not simply ask a writer to look at their unfinished work. You don't stare at a painter when he's still painting. That's like asking someone to strip naked. And then have them bend over.

Let’s ignore the fact that there’s not a single written word to be ashamed of. Because there’s literally not a single written word in your doc.

"No." The answer probably came faster and more obvious of your inner panic than it should have, because to him it clearly translated to; 'Oh? Then I‘ll see it all the more.'

"Aw, c‘mon." His teasing grin spreads, the spoon tipped against his lower lip, "I won‘t judge." Damn it, why does he look kinda adorable?

Before you can react, the guy clamps the spoon between his lips, reaches over the table with his free hand and tilts your laptops screen back down.

"Hey!" you smack his hand away but it‘s too late - his grin just grows and he chuckles.

"Writing, huh? You mean you’ve been staring at a white wall. Here I thought you were writing some spicy stuff about me. What’s all the fuzz about?"

"I- I'm just... I'm still thinking..." you mutter and avoid his gaze behind a hand, trying to cover up the slight tint of embarrassment that’s crept onto your face. "I've got it all in my head, though." You try to back up your answer. He tilts his head back with a chuckle.

"All in your head, huh? For how long this been going?" he quips, lips twitching amused.

"Well, uh-" you begin, then clear your throat with an awkward rub of your neck, "A few days... or... weeks... maybe..." Your voice lowers more with every word until it's reduced to a sheepish whisper.

"Damn, that sucks." he huffs.

"Yeah," you admit with a heavy sigh, "It does."

For a moment you just share a look. His green eyes watch you closely. Calm and curious. But without ever being obtrusive. More like he's trying to get a read on you, like he's patiently waiting, allowing you to open up and reveal more.

And for some reason you find yourself to do just that.

"It's so frustrating, you know?" You begin and slump back in your seat. But he holds your gaze, the entire time and nods subtly, silently telling you to go on. "Like I've got all the ideas in my mind. I can see the scenes play out, can hear the characters talk. But the same moment I try to write it down, it all just-" you break off with a huff, gesturing a 'poof' with your hand.

After a moment, you add another frustrated sigh. "Honestly? Feels like the damn pipeline between my brain and hand's constipated." His eyebrows shoot up at that description.

"You’re an odd one," he laughs and sets the emptied plate down, "I like it."

"Pfff - look who’s talking. Mister 'handsome barn animal'." You jab and can’t help the chuckle. He smirks satisfied at your reaction, tugs at his leather jacket and winks at you.

You roll your eyes with a wide smile.

"What's your name?" You ask curiously.

"Dean," he answers simply. Then leans forward to rest on his forearms, "And you, sweetheart?" Your ears flush when he comes closer and you suddenly become very much aware of the effect his intense gaze has on you.

"I- uh, I'm -" you introduce yourself with your name and he repeats it with a smile, like he's committing it to his memory.

There's a moment of silence again and you don't quite know what to do or say - luckily he seems to have picked up on your inner distress.

"So," he begins, his face suddenly taking an air of - what was it? Business-like? Professional? You couldn't quite tell. "Back to your constipation."

"Yeah? What about it? You interested in my constipation?" You return the question, trying to imitate his new tone.

"Y-yeah," He tries to stay serious, but you both have to bite back a chuckle. "I am, actually."

"What about it?"

"This may sound stupid, but..." He mutters and rubs his forehead like he knows the question that'll follow isn't formulated very well, "Can’t you just, write? You know, like will it through?"

"No- That’s not how it works... it’s - it’s not that damn easy- it's - you don’t understand… It's not that I don't want to. I - I just - ugh-" You groan, face dropped to your hands.

You take a deep breath. The frustration of the past weeks threatening to break down on you again. Your eyes begin to sting and you screw them up in an effort to keep yourself from having a full on breakdown in front of a stranger. In a full diner no less.

"Hey, it’s okay, I believe you." he says with a lower voice now, the flirty attitude gone. The sudden change in his tone and his last words catches you off guard.

Your eyebrows pull together and you lift your head just enough to meet his gaze over the edge of your screen.

The air gets caught in your throat when you notice how close he is. He’s leaned across the table, emerald glinting pools searching your face for a trace of an escaped tear. His hand twitches but he puts it back down before it brushes yours.

"Don’t beat yourself up over it. It’s not your fault, ‘kay?" He murmurs. Almost like he’s sharing a secret with you.

"What? What are you talking about..?" And your voice drops to an equally low level to match his.

"You’re doing great, sweetheart. Trust me." He reassures you but avoids your question with another cheeky smile.

Although this one seems different. Genuine. And soft at the corners.

Unfortunately you don't even get to fully take it in when he's suddenly up on his feet. His eyes dart around the diner before they return to you, a hand raised to ruffle through his dark blond hair.

"I gotta go," he mutters, his attention suddenly drawn down to his empty plate, "Ah - Could you pay for that? You're a real sweetheart."

"..What?"

He doesn't wait for your answer as he slides out of the booth and rounds the table. When he's next to you, he stops for a moment and leans in.

"Oh and - Don't do anything stupid, okay?" He whispers. Then straightens his back again, throws you a flirty wink and a wave of his hand while he bounces off with a casual, "See ya~"

"Uh-" your gaze follows him, perplexed, before you echo his words under your breath, "Yeah... see ya."

You kinda hoped you would.

Wait- why would you do something stupid?

The diner door jingles when Dean steps outside. After a glance left and right, he walks towards a taller guy. He looks not much younger than him, but longer brown hair frames his face, his focus on the papers in his hands.

When their eyes meet, Dean jerks his chin at him and he follows him round the corner and out of sight of the diner.

"And? You got a lead?" He asks hopefully.

"Yep." - He pops the ‘p’ - "Looks like it's our lucky day, Sammy. I think we've got our patient zero." Dean takes charge and heads over to a black Chevy, his hands fidgeting in his pants pockets for the car key.

His bow legs bounce off the concrete floor while Sam follows him with long strides.

"You think it's a deal gone wrong? Or maybe some sort of black magic that backfired?" Sam thinks out loud as he flips through the journal in his hand.

"I don't know man. She seemed pretty clueless to me. Maybe Bobby was right, and it is a curse." The car lock clicks and the trunk flings open.

He pulls out a shotgun and props it up against the lid before he starts rifling through the various contents. "I don't even know what I'm looking for." He sighs.

Sam rubs his temple with equal frustration, "Great. How the hell do we get rid of a writer’s curse?"

"Beats me." Dean huffs, then tosses a set of wooden stakes aside and leans back to run a hand through his hair, "Maybe we should call Bobby again…" - he turns to flash a boyish grin at his brother - "...and then check her out some more?"

Sam groans, "Dude, can you not think with your dick, for two seconds please?"

"What? She’s cute. Plus, she’s got that whole ‘tormented soul’ vibe."

"Seriously? Chances are, that she’s the cause for all of this crazy crap that’s going on in this city."

Dean’s smirk doesn’t falter. Instead he shrugs his shoulders unperturbed, "Let’s pay her a visit tonight. If she turns out to be a witch, we just gank ‘er."

"Dean," Sam scoffs and drags a hand down his face, "I know that look." Dean wiggles his eyebrows.

Sam shakes his head, followed by an incredulous chuckle, "Come on, man, you know you can’t charm your way into her pants. She's clearly not the type for a quick fling. And you’re not exactly Shakespeare."

Dean gets the shotgun out from under the lid and throws it back into the boot. "Oh Sammy, you've still got to learn a lot about women," he says, slamming it shut.

Sam rolls his eyes when his older brother turns to pat him on the shoulder, before he takes off to round the Impala. He pulls the driver's door open while Sam does the same on the opposite side.

"Mark my words, Sammy." He laughs and points a finger gun at him across the roof. "Every girl likes it dirty. Some just don’t show it."

If you reblog, I demand at least one gif of Dean that fits the last line. Cuz I couldn't find the one I was looking for and I want to wake up to many many flirty Dean gifs 😂

Dean Tag List

@aylacavebear @jc-winchester @ambiguous-avery @bettystonewell @lyarr24

@ladysparkles78 @v1v1-3 @maddie0101 @champagnepoets @livya99

@salemslostwitch @supernotnatural2005 @lamentationsofalonelypotato (I'm tagging you for this because our talk partially motivated me to write this ♡ and to post it even though I hate it lmao 😂)

❀ꗥ Want to join my TAG LIST? Fill out this form!

[foldingfittedsheets]

Experience with blueberries from someone living in central Europe:

Blueberries that grow in the forest (uncultivated) are much smaller, grow close to the ground, and are deep blue/purple on the inside

bought Blueberries (cultivated) are a lot bigger, grown on bushes and are green inside

:)

Apparently! The purple inside ones are in fact bilberries and slightly different to blueberries. Which I don’t actually think I’ve seen in the US and certainly my coworkers wouldn’t have either.

[applepiealopecoid]

words on trees, bushes, rural regions, and forests for your writing

thicket — a dense group of bushes or trees

grove — a small wood, orchard, or group of trees

underbrush — shrubs and small trees forming the undergrowth in a forest

undergrowth — a dense growth of shrubs and other plants, especially under trees in woodland

canebrake — a piece of ground covered with a dense growth of canes

chaparral — vegetation consisting chiefly of tangled shrubs and thorny bushes

woodland — land covered with trees

coppice — an area of woodland in which the trees or shrubsare, or formerly were, periodically cut back to ground level to stimulate growth and provide firewood or timber

hurst — a wood or wooded rise or hillock

hillock — a small hill or mound

copse — a small group of trees

bower — a pleasant shady place under trees or climbing plants in a garden or wood

deciduous — (of a tree or shrub) shedding its leaves annually

coniferous — conifers are a group of cone-bearing, woody seed plants. they are most diverse in warmer areas like tropical mountains, and are also found in the wild regions of canada and russia

bosk or bosque — a thicket of bushes; a small wood

woodlot — a woodlot is a parcel of woodland or forest, typically small in size, that is capable of supporting small-scale production of forest products

pine — an evergreen coniferous tree that has clusters of long needle-shaped leaves. many kinds are grown for their soft timber, which is widely used for furniture and pulp, or for tar and turpentine

oak — a tree that bears acorns as fruit, and typically has lobed deciduous leaves. oaks are common in many north temperate forests and are an important source of hard and durable wood used chiefly in construction, furniture, and, formerly, shipbuilding

birch — a slender, fast-growing tree that has thin bark, often peeling, and bears catkins. birch trees grow chiefly in north temperate regions, some reaching the northern limit of tree growth

mahogany — hard reddish-brown timber from a tropical tree, used for high-quality furniture

hinterland — the often uncharted areas beyond a coastal district or a river's banks

willow — salix, also known as willows, osiers, and sallows, is a genus of around 350 species of shrubs and trees that are usually deciduous. they are primarily found in temperate and cold regions on moist soils. the white willow is the largest species, with mature trees growing up to 25 meters tall

redwood — sequoioideae, also known as redwoods, are a subfamily of coniferous trees in the cupressaceae family. they are the tallest trees in the world and can live for thousands of years

elm — ulmus, or elms, are a genus of deciduous and semi-deciduous trees found across most of the northern hemisphere. they are known for their broad shade and vase-like shape

magnolia — a tree or shrub with large, typically creamy-pink, waxyflowers. magnolias are widely grown as ornamental trees

greenwood — a wood or forest in leaf (regarded as the typical scene of medieval outlaw life)

boskage — massed trees or shrubs

countryside — the land and scenery of a rural area

country — districts, areas, and small settlements outside large towns, cities, or the capital

backwoods — remote uncleared forest land

outskirts — the outer parts of a town or city

wildwood — an uncultivated wood or forest that has been allowed to grow naturally

sticks — an area in the country that is far away from towns and cities

[unlivresanstitre]

Ok 🥲

It's super hard because I never really thought about it 😭 so this is only my personal thoughts, I have no idea if french people think the same or if any of this is specific to our country

- most French people don't like France and most people spend their time criticizing rather than trying to make things happen

- the world is burning but hey : Notre-Dame. ✨ Priorities ✨

- we are bad at learning foreign languages

- we have very cool places in France but somehow we prefer to go see elsewhere???

- Culture is important in France. You can visit many historical monuments for free

- bread. I don't know about bread around the world but I know about french bread and it taste so fucking good. Crunchy crust, soft crumb. You can eat it with anything (marmelade, spread, butter, meat, yogurt, cheese). And the smell!!!!

- talking about food, we have 4 meals : breakfast (considered the most important meal), lunch, snack (around 4-5 p.m – I don't know if the translation is good, we call it "le goûter") and dinner. Maybe it's like this for most countries but I have no idea I'm sorry 😭😭

- we have the pronoun "vous" as formal form of address. Usually with people you don't know, to show some respect

It's very messy and doesn't make sense, hope it helps anyway 🙏 If you have questions about specific points (that I mentioned or other) or historical period, don't hesitate to ask, I'll try my best to answer!!

And if any french people want to add anything, feel free to do so 😭

You mentioned you're French. Just out of curiosity and totally not bc I accidentally set my whole plot in France and my very English characters somehow have French ancestors, exactly how long will it take for an average person to learn your language??

Honestly??? I have no idea 😭 french is apparently very hard to learn for non-french speakers and I totally understand why because even after 26 years, there are still things I don't know or understand 🥲 maybe someone who learned French as a second (or third, or fourth, whatever) langage could give you a better answer???

[magicalbats]

Kinktober 2024 Day 20: Gorou x Reader

Rating: R-18+

Word Count: 6243

Warnings: Afab!reader, werewolf inspired, ABO inspired, predator/prey, heat/rut cycles, breeding, knotting, sex outdoors, piv, creampie

A/N: Its not midnight where I'm at yet so that means I'm definitely not late with this one, right? Right. Not beta read because I suck so please be forgiving of any typos! 🙈

⭐

Watatsumi Island was home to many long stretches of unsettled land and uncultivated fields, in part due to the unique environmental hazards it hosted that made human expansion difficult. It was also due to the various monster populations found there which seemed like an exceptionally high concentration in such a small, closed off area. But there were gradual efforts being made to clear out any potential threats to make it safer for its humble population of residents, which was slowly opening up more and more wide open spaces that were safe to access. They also provided plenty of relative privacy when most people were still wary about venturing too far from their small villages, especially at night. 

Luckily neither you or Gorou were ‘most people’, and you find that these recent efforts have served the two of you incredibly well. 

Being of the canine persuasion, he was more partial to being outdoors rather than being stuck inside a confined space where he had to be mindful of his actions and the flickering arc of his excitable tail. Out in the luminescent fields of Watatsumi, however, he was free to run and jump, climb whatever caught his attention, and even let down his guard enough to openly snuggle up to you for a pet. 

It was sometimes hard for him, denying his natural urges like that, but he was determined to be the capable and exemplary General his men thought him to be. That meant no floofing his pointy ears where anybody might see it. 

Unfortunately that also meant you’d had to help him through some tough spots at certain intervals throughout the year in the cramped space of your little thatch work home. It was decidedly not fun trying to wrangle a half delirious man who was twice as strong as you during the highest point of his rut, or to keep him quiet while he was energetically pounding you into the floor so he didn’t alarm any of your neighbors. 

The slow moving process of wiping out bands of Hilichurls and exorcizing specters from the places they haunted had opened up new and exciting possibilities for you though. Now instead of having to muzzle him before he slipped fully into his hormone driven mating drive, the two of you could instead plan an expedition out into the wilderness ahead of time where he would be able to knot you as much as he wanted without running half the risk of detection as you did in the village. 

Although you very strongly suspected that Her Excellency, the high priestess of Watatsumi, had at least an inkling as to what was going on when her General went missing at around the same time with each passing season, you understood the need for secrecy, even from her. More than anything Gorou wanted to be taken seriously by those around him, and to that end you were happy to help him in whatever way you could. 

So the two of you spend the days leading up to the first full moon of the fall season discussing your game plan for this next trip. And he manages to surprise you a bit when he somewhat shyly admits he wanted to try something new with you, since there was so much open space for you to venture into now. 

“I’d like to hunt you this time, if that’s okay?” 

You’re not entirely sure what to make of that request at first, your mind stumbling over a multitude of questions and uncertain lines of inquiry, but he quickly clarifies that he just means in a playful way that shouldn’t result in anyone getting hurt. He had all the usual senses of a dog, from his keen hearing to his equally impressive sense of smell so it probably made a certain amount of sense that the challenge of tracking you down would appeal to him. 

Ultimately you agree to the suggestion, working out some ground rules and safe words in case he got a little too caught up in the moment and you needed to step back to regroup. Even at his most delirious, Gorou was always exceptionally good at listening to you so you trusted that he wouldn’t get so carried away as to accidentally cause you any harm. 

You’re also admittedly a little excited about this new and fun game you’ve laid out with him, wondering how long you could evade him once the chase began. He was quicker, stronger and better at tracking than you were, there wasn’t any doubt about that, but you weren’t a completely helpless waif either. Having grown up on Watatsumi your whole life, you had your own arsenal of tricks up your sleeve that you were looking forward to trying out on him. 

And when it’s finally time for you to set off, a day earlier than he was expected to leave which would allow you enough of a head start to truly challenge his skills, you bid Gorou a fond farewell and a cheeky grin. The eager wag of his tail assures you he’s quite excited about the looming hunt just on the horizon, his biological cues already starting to kick into gear with the changing of the seasons. 

Out into the stretching countryside of Watatsumi’s meager island you go, small supplies pack thrown over your shoulder and a low pulsing hum between your legs. 

You make your way into the rolling grasslands in the near west without running into any complications or trouble along the way, thanks in no small part to all the effort and strategic planning of Her Excellency. There isn’t even a rogue hilichurl wandering about as far as you can see, and you eventually come upon a nicely vacant stretch of hilly meadow where the foliage was permanently imbued with a vaguely purple hue and there wasn't sign of anyone else for miles. 

This is where you set up camp, eagerly looking forward to when Gorou would join you sometime the following evening. You’d agreed to the staggered departure times on the condition that he would carry most of the supplies with him, which only left you with a small, pre prepared bento to eat for dinner. 

Not that you were particularly bothered by this though. You’d quickly found that going into Gorou’s rut cycle was always better on a light stomach. Although you would certainly need the calories soon enough, it wasn’t any good to put too much pressure on your guts when he would soon be folding you in half in all manner of different positions. 

That night it takes a great deal of effort on your part not touch yourself underneath the nearly full moon when you were so excited just thinking about how this was going to go. How long would it take him to find you, when would he catch you, what position was he going to fuck you in first? There were a multitude of questions just at your feet and you’re so eager to find the answers that you have a bit of a hard time falling asleep. 

But you do drift off, eventually, and you let yourself stay in bed late the next day to make up for it, knowing that extra rest would come in handy later on. The following hours pass by so peacefully that at a certain point you almost manage to forget you were out there for the specific purpose of being pounded into a stupor, giving him ample opportunity to relentlessly fuck into you without anyone interrupting or questioning his state of mind. 

It’s only when darkness begins to fall do you finally give in to the lingering urge to shudder at the thought of what was soon going to happen. You were eager to get started and your cunt was already wet with excitable slick, but you had no idea when he would arrive or when he would make his move. The full moon hangs heavy and watchful overhead, keeping a silent eye on the long stretch of open field across Watatsumi’s western peninsula and casting everything in a bright moonbeam glow, so you were relatively certain he would be much too energized to wait very long once he’d found you. 

You’re not entirely sure what it is about the moon cycle that affects him the way that it does, but Her Excellency had once explained to you that the ocean tides were likewise influenced by its waxing and waning, and you think the two are likely intertwined in some way. It’s a bit beyond your scope though, so you don’t think about it much further than that, far more interested in listening for any signs of Gorou’s approach. 

The later it gets and the deeper night slips over the motionless field, the more antsy and jittery you become. Nature is never truly quiet, and you jump at every little sound that your racing thoughts perceive to be out of the ordinary but nothing comes of it for a long time. So much so that at a certain point you almost wonder if he was having a hard time tracking you down. 

And then you finally hear it. A deliberately purposeful snap of a branch in the not far distance. 

The crack of brittle wood snapping seems loud and it rings across the rustling grass like a flint lock gunshot, making a vague sense of unease curl through your mind. Slowly straightening up from the resting slouch you’d slipped into, you look out over the otherwise silent field to listen for any other sounds. 

You can’t make out anything from the usual though. Just the soft rumble of waves lapping at the shoreline on the other side of the hilly valley, unseen but not unheard, and the stilted sound of chirping insects calling out to each other from somewhere close by. You think you might even be able to pick out the shrill cry of a seafaring bird somewhere far away from where you were sat, but that’s it. 

The resounding lack of anything noteworthy almost manages to convince you that you’d only imagined the crack of a tree branch snapping, and you grudgingly start to get yourself settled back in again. But you only make it halfway through the motion when a sudden, attention grabbing howl rises up in the air, and you immediately bolt upright again. 

Stiff and halting, you just sit there frozen for a drawn out moment while you listen to that eerie noise carry over the land for what feels like miles around. It sounds like it’s coming from all sides of you at once and you’re not quite sure which direction to swivel your attention towards. Now your mild pang of uncertainty devolves into full blown dread as you frantically try to run through the short list of possibilities in your mind. 

You’d never heard Gorou howl like that before so you weren’t entirely sure if it was him or not. But if it wasn’t, if your General had not tracked you down yet and something else was making that noise, then that really only left one other possible culprit. Riftwolves. This area had been cleared out though so you didn’t understand how that was possible, unless … they’d migrated down from further north? 

Suddenly not feeling quite so excited and eager anymore, you nervously climb to your feet and look around, taking care not to make too much noise that might alert whatever it was to your location. You’d doused your campfire at the very onset of nightfall since there was more than enough moonlight and you didn’t want to make it any easier for Gorou to spot you, but now you were starting to wish you still had the comfort of a fire to huddle around. 

This probably was not good. If there really were riftwolves prowling around out there you were as good as a sitting duck. They were known to hunt in packs, and with only your trusty bow and a hunting knife on hand you knew you’d never be able to fight them off by yourself. 

You’re mentally running through your frustratingly few options when it starts up again, a single, solitary howl that makes every individual hair on your body stand on end. It sounds much closer this time, as if whatever the source it was making its way down the sloping hills somewhere just behind you. It’s hard to say for certain when the reverberating sound seems to echo from each direction but you quickly decide to trust your instincts. If it sounded like it was coming from the rear then you were going to move in the opposite direction. 

Quickly shouldering your decorated quiver full of arrows and ensuring your knife was still sheathed at your hip, you creep off into the relative darkness, making sure to stay low so as to avoid drawing too much attention. You have to leave everything else behind for the moment, your simple roll out bed and your humble pack of supplies so you can travel lightly without being weighed down by stuff you didn’t currently need. Hopefully it would still be there when you retraced your steps back. 

Clutching your bow in your dominant hand so tightly the wood begins to creak, you sweep your gaze out over the immediate surroundings as far as you’re able to make out. Even with the brightly lit full moon overhead your eyes are still limited to a smaller line of sight than usual, and you can feel cold sweat beginning to prickle over your skin as it starts to sink in just how helpless you really are out here. Oh, how you sorely hoped it was Gorou and not something else.

The fact it was only one howl and there hadn’t yet been any responding calls is of a small comfort to you when the primal part of your brain was steadily inching towards fearful panic. Logically you wanted to trust that it was the General as the two of you were the only ones who would have had any need to be this far from any human settlements in the middle of the night but … he’d never made that sound before, as far as you were aware. Was he even capable of doing that? 

You think he must be, given that he was equal parts human and canine. If he looked very much like a dog, acted very much like a dog, and was ruled by hormonal, instinctive drive much like a dog then it only made sense that he should be able to vocalize much like one too, right? 

Unfortunately you don’t get the chance to let your higher functioning thoughts talk some sense to your animal brain and reason you down from the ledge. 

All at once you're hyper aware of the sound of footsteps in the grass, still some few yards behind you but quickly closing the distance. Whatever it is, it was running right towards you and you don’t stop long enough to count how many legs it sounded like it was moving on. 

Your violently hammering heart is suddenly in your throat as you lurch into a full on sprint, clutching your bow in a death grip while you frantically tear across the field. In a far off, dreamy sort of way, you realize you’re frightened. Really, truly scared of what was chasing you down like this, and whatever excitement you may have had going into this little adventure seems like a long distant memory now. 

Survival was the only thing you could focus on in the here and now, and your subconscious reactions seemed to suggest you were really going to die if you didn’t escape. 

Legs pumping as fast as they can conceivably carry you, you struggle to breathe around that existential fear making your chest feel tight and uncomfortable. Those heavy, predatory footfalls are still right behind you and quickly gaining ground even while you desperately scan for something you can hide behind or inside of. The scenery is going by in such a fast, shadowy blur though that you can’t quite make out what it is you’re seeing. 

Closer and closer, that looming presence at your back draws nearer until it feels like it’s breathing right down your neck. A terrified, breathless sob bubbles up inside your constricting throat at the sense of impending doom that rapidly closes in on you with it. This must be what it feels like for the hunted hare being chased to exhaustion by a pack of dogs. You weren’t going to be able to keep this up for much longer. 

Feeling your gait start to waver when the fast pumping adrenaline begins to take its toll, you blindly reach down with your free hand to grip the hilt of your knife in a sweaty fist. At least you still  had one last option if it turned out not to be Gorou. And you very badly hoped it was. 

But before you can even consider what you were going to do if it wasn’t him, you’re slammed into from behind with enough force to send you flying head over heels. You’re so out of breath that you can’t even scream as you go down in a flailing heap of tangled limbs, your bow slipping loose and cartwheeling through the air to land in the grass somewhere. 

You hit the ground with a jolting rattle, grunting a winded sound when your pursuant lands right on top of you for a split second before quickly rolling off. Left gasping raggedly in the grass, you wince when the pain slowly sinks in and you realize just how sore your tired legs actually were in addition to all the other bumps and bruises you now had. There was no way you could run again. You weren’t even sure if you could properly walk after barreling straight into a dead sprint for what felt like miles, a few at the very least. The only option you had now was to face whatever it was head on. 

Groaning a hurt sound, you force your reeling head up from the grass to cautiously peer over in the direction it had rolled towards. Genuine surprise and a vague note of uncertainty freeze you in your tracks though when you find Gorou crouched there in the dirt on all fours, baring his sharp teeth at you. Behind him you can see his fluffy tail listlessly flicking back and forth in a stiff, anticipatory arc, and for a horrible moment you just stare at him in numb disbelief. 

It really was him, and he’d hunted you down like little more than a helpless prey animal. 

“G - Gorou?” You whisper in a tiny, faltering voice, throat so raw and scratchy in the wake of that unexpected sprint through the dark that you don’t quite sound like yourself at the moment. You thought you’d understood what he wanted to do, what he was asking you for when he first brought it up, but there was some naive, trusting part of you that hadn’t thought he’d hunt you so ruthlessly. 

His ears aggressively flicking forward, Gorou straightens slightly from his hunched position but stays braced on all fours when he lumbers towards you, clearly not used to this quadruped locomotion. Something about seeing him like that manages to unnerve you deeply and you suck in a wet, half choked breath as you quickly fumble to push yourself upright. 

A low, rumbling growl immediately starts up from him though, as if warning you to be careful, and the vibration of that sound bleeds right into you where it takes root inside your quaking guts. Going still again, you force yourself not to move while he sidles up right next to you, his body language stiffly held and intimidating. Watching him lean close to put his face by your vulnerable neck so he can hungrily sniff at you, you distantly realize why this was so scary. 

He looked like a surly, belligerent alpha male, the sort that would rule over his pack with an iron fist. It’s an odd thing to think about your usually gentle lover and you’re not entirely sure what to make of it, how much stock you want to put into that impression. But there’s no denying the similarities in the packs of dogs you’ve seen around the island and the way he looks now, and you shudder with the roiling wave of uncertainty that crashes into you. 

You weren’t overly familiar with the mating habits of actual canines, having thought Gorou was so removed from his four legged cousins that you’d never bothered to do any in depth research. It almost seems like the freedom granted to him by Watatsumi’s unoccupied countryside far away from any listening ears or prying eyes had brought out this more animalistic side of him though. He suddenly seems more beast than man now, and you can’t quite stop the frightened little hiccup that makes your chest hitch. 

His keen ears twitching at the sound, Gorou leans back from your neck to direct his face close to yours. You shoot him a quick, wary glance, thinking he was perhaps going to kiss you, but all he does is issue another low growl. The message was clear. Stay still and behave for him or face the consequences. 

Sucking in a painfully slow breath to try and steady your nerves, you kneel there in the grass and the dirt as he shuffles around to crouch behind you now. Ever so slowly, you cautiously turn your neck to peer back at him just in time to watch the General sniff along your back straight down to your ass where he proceeds to demandingly nudge at you. You hesitate to do it but when he rumbles another warning at you, you quickly comply and lean forward to brace on your hands and knees. 

Evidently pleased with that, Gorou leans down and rather unceremoniously shoves his face into the spot between your legs, snuffling at you loudly. The sensation as much as the sound makes a sharp electric zap shoot up your spine and you stiffly rock forward, hips instinctively twitching upward as if to present to him. 

The realization of what you’re doing stops you in your tracks though, a fresh pang of horror creeping through you. Either the lack of oxygen from that impromptu marathon was making you crazy or the hard dominance in Gorou’s posture was effecting you on a subconscious level. You’re not entirely sure which it is, and your nails helplessly curl into the dirt underneath you while he nudges at you again, encouraging you to spread your thighs for him. 

Cautiously slow, you comply with this too. 

His breath is hot and clinging against you even through the layers of your clothes which he insistently noses at as if to push the fabric out of the way. You were only wearing a thin yukata with short pants on underneath, both for you own ease of movement and to give him relatively easy access. You hadn’t expected him to already be this out of sorts by the time he found you though, and you can tell he isn’t thinking straight enough to figure out how to get at you on his own. 

And he becomes increasingly more impatient, shoving his mouth so tightly against you from behind that your pussy sensitively flutters under the pressure. You’re a little surprised at how quickly your earlier excitement was starting to roar back to life now that he was here with you, touching you like this, but you’re glad for it. Both for his sake as much as your own. 

Appreciatively groaning a tension filled sound under your breath, you carefully shift the full brunt of your weight to one hand so you can reach down with the other, slipping it between your legs. Gorou growls in warning again when your fingers crowd into the space he clearly saw as his territory, yet he makes no move to stop you when you grab at the material to begin awkwardly tugging it down for him. It’s especially hard to do in this position, with him flush against you like this, but you slowly manage to work the thin shorts low enough to expose a strip of yourself to him. 

Rumbling a voracious sound when he seems to catch his first real whiff of you, Gorou blindly lifts his gloved hand up to hook it into your pants and shove them down, baring your cunt fully at him. He leaves your bottoms haphazardly tangled around your thighs as he goes back up to grab a pinching handful of your ass, nudging you forward when he indelicately shoves it apart from the other so he can press his mouth in right against your puckered hole. 

A sharp inhale catches in your throat at the sudden sensation, but you just groan a faltering sound and push back on him, angling your hips up in an attempt to encourage him a little lower. He seems to have another goal in mind though, much too caught up on the urge to sink himself into you as deeply as he can reach to think very much about your pleasure. 

It’s rough and borderline impartial when he straightens up to hover over you, fumbling to push at your yukata and make it bunch around your waist with his stiffly poised hands. He doesn’t bother with completely undressing you, and as soon as he’s got the fabric pushed out of the way enough he takes your hips in a pinchingly tight hold to pull you back against him. 

Your bare pussy presses back into the front of his pants, firmly grinding into your heat, and you promptly succumb to a full bodied tremble when you feel the stiff jab of his erection digging into you. A potently sharp surge of arousal tears through your body at the suggestion, the promise and the threat in that simple little gesture. One would think you would have been used to it by now and yet you’re so finely tuned in to the physical presence of your lover's body that you can’t help but pick up on some of his excitement. 

Moaning a soft, faltering sound, you invitingly roll your hips back to grind into him, earning yourself another snarl and a too tight squeeze to your hips. Roughly dragging his hands up along your sides, Gorou leans what feels like his whole weight into his braced arms and forces your upper half down to the grass, making you assume a true rutting position for him. 

It’s suddenly getting hard to breathe again while he holds you there, pants pulled halfway down your legs and your vulnerable cunt pointed up at him, your own need to be taken and claimed ratcheting higher to match a very small fraction of his arousal. Hands weakly curling in the grass for something to hold on to, you simply lie there like that, helpless and panting softly as he shifts further up behind you to fumble with his own bottoms. 

It seems to take him a prolonged moment to get everything tugged down enough to free himself and you just start to wonder if you need to help him with this too when he takes hold of your hips again. Yanking you back against him, you feel his stiff cock press against you from behind, slotting itself along your sticky slit. A sharp gasp rattles around inside your chest at the sensation of all that smooth, silky flesh pushed into you so tightly, making your cunt flood. 

All you can think is that you’re ready for him, you needed him, wanted him to lay claim to your body and mark it as his. But Gorou just slips and slides through your soaked folds with the first few nudges of his locked hips, smearing copious slick everywhere in the process. He’s much too impatient now, taking a few more blind jabs at your entrance in hopes of catching himself at just the right angle. When that doesn’t work though he rumbles a sound of annoyance before pushing up to stand just behind you with his spread legs bracketing your hips. 

Leaning over you now, he once again finds your shoulders and presses his weight into you, forcing your spine to bow under the pressure in a needy arch. He lowers his pelvis at the same time, sending the meaty tip of his cock spearing through your wet lips once, twice — and finally hitting you dead center on the third. 

Your mouth immediately springs open, wailing a plaintive sound out across the field of softly rustling grass while he bullies his throbbing length into you, forcing your sticky walls to open under the pressure and make room for him. He doesn’t even wait until he’s fully sheathed inside of you, just starting right in on a quick, energetic rhythm that gradually works himself the rest of the way inside you. The force of his thrusts knocks loose a series of gasping groans and heaving gasps from you, the full brunt of his weight driving his hips down against your upturned ass so energetically that the resulting slap of skin hitting skin sounds deafeningly loud. 

And he shudders fiercely over top of you, throwing his head back to howl a satisfied sound up at the moon overhead. 

Jolting back and forth each time he drives into your squelching cunt, you warily turn your neck to just peer over your shoulder at him. So it really was Gorou making that noise. You’d never heard him sound like that before but you could probably attribute that to always having to do this either in the village or quite near to it. 

Here though he was free to let his instincts take over for him and throw caution aside, his tail wagging so stiffly behind him you can tell he’s enjoying this total inhibition a great deal. 

You are too, truth be told, and you freely cry out in pleasure when he at last lets up on your shoulders enough to let you push to your elbows. His grasping hands drag down your back on a sure and steady trajectory to your hips again, pulling the top of your yukata loose enough that your bouncing tits start to spill out. 

Seething at the continuous plunge of his cock into your hot, squirming guts, you distractedly try to shrug the loosely hanging robe further down, moaning a high strung sound when you feel your nipples finally drag over the grass. That’s about as much as you can manage right now though, your head spinning dizzyingly fast to accompany the rapid plunge of his length, giving yourself over to that quick paced onslaught of sensation. 

Gorou seems nearly out of his mind on top of you, growling and grunting his pleasure for the entire immediate area to hear. And given his wild state, pushed right to the limit of his own body’s capacity by the looks of it, you’re not the least bit surprised when you feel his cock steadily expanding around the base. The addition of that rounded pressure on either side of his shaft just makes your pussy schluck even louder around him, clicking obscenely each time he shoves it into you and then drags it out again. 

The pressure is mind numbing in its sheer potency, your cunt weeping uncontrollably against the demanding intrusion now. No matter how many times you experience this you never fully get used to the sensation of being knotted, of having your internal sleeve stretched as far as you think it can go while he forces that growing bulge into you again and again, and again. 

It pushes in on every little nerve ending and rubs over the sensitive spot along your upper wall to damn near send you careening over the edge into hysterics, bucking frantically underneath him when the tension starts to tip and your impending orgasm begins to bear down on you. 

And you cum with a stricken wail, clawing desperately at the ground as Gorou just continues pounding into you even when the wild pulse of your body squeezes him tight in a clinging grip. It’s like you were subconsciously trying to hold onto him and lock the two of you together, and it’s that energetic spasm of your guts that finally encourages his knot to swell to full size. 

Suddenly he can no longer execute a full thrust, and instead merely tugs back on your cunt without going anywhere before shoving himself back in again. The limited range has him jabbing at your insides so roughly you feel yourself instinctively brace for another orgasm, the constant jostle against your cunt making the pressure swell right back to full force. 

You feel delirious and mad with the continuous waves of ecstasy that slam into you again and again, each and every time he rams his pelvis into your bare ass. But before you can find that breaking point again he shudders over top of you and howls, using his hold on your hips to yank you back when the fierce tremors become too much. 

Clutching you against him tight enough to hurt, Gorou cums with a wounded lurch, shooting a hot, pulsing stream of creamy release deep into your cunt. The sensation is thick and heavy inside you, making you moan as your eyes start to roll back in doped out bliss. You can feel his knot throbbing within you as well, stretching your pussy so wide around its girth that he couldn’t have dislodged his cock from you even if he’d tried. And he just keeps pumping more and more spend into you until you can feel it warmly sloshing around and gathering at the entrance of your womb. 

There's so much of it that it would have started seeping out of you in heavy, sticky sheets had he not had you so thoroughly plugged, and you groan a reeling sound of deep felt pleasure when he gradually eases himself down to the ground behind you, panting just as raggedly as you are. But you’re still stuck together and would be for the foreseeable future until the swelling of his knot started to go down, so he moves gingerly as he carefully pulls you down to lay out in the grass with him. 

Wincing slightly when the change in position makes him feel even bigger to the point of real discomfort, you let him tug you back against his front while your topmost leg stays awkwardly bent in the air until he reaches down to grab under the knee. Shoving your pants over the foot to allow you your full range of motion again, he smoothly guides it around to brace over his hip to keep your legs comfortably spread until the two of you could eventually separate. His tail wagging affectionately against the ground, Gorou then slides his hand around to idly knead at your breasts where they were spilling out of your top, pressing his face tight into your shoulder as if he couldn’t seem to get close enough to you. 

And still, he just keeps cumming, one healthy squirt after another until you can feel the internal pressure pushing in on your guts. Moaning softly now, you reach down to feel over your stomach and the petite bump there caused by all the semen sloshing around inside you. It’s so reminiscent of what it might feel like to be heavy with his child, especially when coupled with the active process of being bred as you were, that it soon has you sensitively shuddering on his cock. 

Oh, you were going to cum again.  

Whimpering a desperate little sound into the air, you reach further down to touch your cunt, feeling how stuffed full and spread out it is with him still wedged inside you like this. Locating your clit, you start to rub it with the savory grind of your fingers as Gorou scoots his pelvis somehow even closer to yours, whimpering a needy groan while he does it. 

“I’m sorry,” He whispers into your shoulder, his pointy ears folded almost completely down over his head. “I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I’m sorry.” 

You’re not entirely sure what it is he’s apologizing for at first, much too intoxicated on the dizzying cocktail of endorphins and pheromones coming off him that you’re not exactly thinking straight either. But then you feel his hips give a shuddering twitch and he grinds into you with a slow motion thrust. He still can’t go anywhere with his knot keeping him in place but he can put more of that delicious pressure on your cunt while he impotently humps at you, creating a wet little suction sound between your thighs. 

Head positively spinning at the total onslaught to all of your senses, you let your head drunkenly roll back in the grass, fingers working over your clit more quickly now. At the same time his tail curls up between his legs to possessively lay across your inner thigh, tickling you just ever so slightly as you stare up at the full moon in a daze. 

Yes, the two of you were certainly going to have to remember to thank Her Excellency for all her hard work clearing out the monsters on Watatsumi.

⭐

Crossposted: here

[tamamita]

hey sal feel free to ignore this but i got into an argument with a zionist who claimed that arabs sold their lands to them, is this true

This is interesting, because it ignores a lot of context. Keywords to remember is the Ottoman capitulation, the Felaheen, the Sursock purchase and the eviction of Palestinians that inhabited the area at that time.

The Sursock family was a family of Aristocratic landlords with strong ties to the Turkish and European nobility dating back to the 19th century. The Sursocks were known to have mass purchased land in Palestine from the Ottoman Turks. While they were absentee landlords, they hired Arab labours who inhabited the purchased land at that time. When the Turks capitulated following WW1, the Turks were pressured into allowing the land to be sold to the PLDC, the Palestinan (later Israeli) Land Development Company. The PLDC sought to purchase the Jezreel valley, which consisted of 20-25 Arab villages, from the Sursock. . Keep in mind that the Jezreel valley was the most fertile land of Palestine and close to the economic city of Haifa. Following the mass purchase of land by the PLDC, the Jewish landbuyers expelled Arab tenants and depopulated the Arab villages despite their usufruct, and right to toll on the land. This all came as a surprise to the Arab inhabitants. This was all part of the idea that cheap Arab labour should be replaced with Jewish labour, this despite the fact that Arab labourers had greater expertise on the agricultural field; the settlers were unfamiliar with the land. Keep in mind that according to JNF, the Jewish national fund, only 3% of the Palestinian land were uncultivated, destroying the myth that the land bloomed as a result of its settler colonizers. The Hashomer Hatzaeer would come to be the center of these kibbutzim and would establish over 30 kibbutzim built ontop of the Arab villages before 1948. As a result, the Arabs, or Felaheen (The Arab peasant class) put up a resistance against the JNF out of concrete material reasons and attempted to fight back against the expansion of these kibbutzim. This was the first instance of Arab resistance against Zionism.

All of these lands were purchased before 1948 and the Arabs were expelled and depopulated only for the kibbutzim to be established with the help of the money provided by the Jewish Colonization association and its organs. However, the British mandate did not require the landowners to compensate for the expelled Arab tenants. The Arabs were forced to migrate to slums and towns. In one of these towns, a notable Syrian resistance fighter would rise up, namely, Izz ad-Din al-Qassam, and declare jihad on the British. When the Arabs resisted their dispossession by every means necessary, even violence, the Zionists used this as an excuse to fortify their colonizers and expand them due to "escalating security needs". Since the colonizers were too weak to face the resistance, they turned themselves to the British to gain their support in an attempt to expand their lands as means of security for the Kibbutzim. In a memondarium written by the Kibbutz Hazora (a settlement in Jezreel) to the Jewish Agency in 1936: "Our basic demand is for our own instutions to help us ugently in getting the British authorities to expand our territory--this is a vital issue for us.". A similar pretext is used whenever the colonized put up resistance against their colonizers, in which the same excuse is used to further expand and colonize the lands. This is the logic of the oppressor in any context, whether it is colonial or in the class struggle.