#roast hare

[augment-techs]

[despacito-uwu16]

The Rising Action

Kenji Sato x Journalist! Reader

Enemies To Lovers | Foced Proximity | Pining

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“Hit me like a poisonous dart. You were trouble right from the start. Should’ve ran I guess that’s my fault”. - I do by G-IDLE

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“Ken Sato has received a 3rd strike. One wonders, how hard is it to hit a small ball, I bet a one-eyed zombie could hit a ball better than he can”. You say into your recorder.

“Wow, you are harsh”. Ami says as you end your recording.

“It’s called being honest. I report what I see”. You reminded her. “I mean have you seen the way he played today”?

“Yes Y/N, we’ve been watching the same game. But it got me thinking. When I interviewed Ken, he refused to talk about his family. He refuses to show vulnerability. It’s like he’s wearing some sort of mask. Something is going on with him, and when I know something, I don’t let go”. Said Ami.

“Wow, you are very determined”.

“At least get to know him before you start roasting him”. Ami suggested.

“Note taken”. You lied.

After graduating college, you were hired as an intern at the Los Angeles Magazine. You would stay at the office after midnight to revise and edit articles for other reporters. Eventually, your boss gave you your first assignment. Coincidentally, at a baseball game. You took in every detail of every player, noting all of the small mistakes and flaws of the games. Everyone looked like they didn’t know how to play, much to your disappointment. But it made juicy material for you.

That night, you were writing like you were running out of time. The article you wrote was on some of the players and their failures. The morning after, you got called in to the editor’s office. At first you thought you were about to get fired, but your surprise, he complimented on your writing style, asking you to cover another baseball game. Eventually, you got promoted to journalist within 6 months of working there, naming you the youngest journalist in the field. A year and a half later, you were offered a job at the International Review Journal. They pay twice as much as the last salary and you get to travel for your job. It didn’t take too long for you to accept it, and the next thing you knew, you were on your way to make your mark in the world.

Everywhere you went, your words impacted people and the way they perceive their favorite athletes. All of the readers love you, while the athletes feared and hated you. You didn’t care for the love and hate. What matters is you were unstoppable.

Now here you are in Tokyo, Japan watching the Ken Sato struggle. You felt bad that the Giants were on a loosing streak, but you didn’t feel bad for Ken. It was his ego that brought him here after all. You leaned back in your chair with your recorder in your hand, while watching Ken having a temper tantrum in front of his coach.

~

As you walked out of the stadium, you were fishing out your car keys when you realized something was missing in your bag.

“Where’s my recorder”?

Panic starts to settle in as you looked through your tote bag.

“Looking for this”?

You turn around to see Ken Sato, waving your recording device in front of you.

“Well, if it isn’t the walking loosing streak. I would say great game, but let’s face it, i’ve seen better”. You sneered.

“Y/N L/N, the pain in my ass, Let me guess, obsessing with me as usual”? He asks

“I’m not obsessed with you, and even if I were, I would rather launch myself out of Tokyo on a ten foot pole than fan girl over a baseball fuck up”. You rolled your eyes.

“You have really creative comments Y/N. I think my favorite one has to be when you called me the hare who couldn’t beat the tortoise. But slower and more stupider”. He laughs.

“I also noticed that I’m the only person mentioned in your commentary. Am I just a cover for the fact that you know nothing about baseball”?

“Of course I know everything about baseball. I just like taking notes on the most notable failures in baseball history”. You scoffed

He lets out a laugh that still annoys you to this day. “It’s nice to know I have a fan”.

“Once again, the only person obsessed with you is you”. You retorted.

“Says the person who followed me all the way here from California”. He tossed your recorder to you. “I’ve read some of your stuff online. Judging by your writing style, you should consider a career in fanfiction writing instead of sports journalism”.

“Fuck off Ken”. You said.

While he turned around to walk away, you gave him the middle finger, and he stuck up his in return.

You rolled your eyes as you got into your car.

“What an asshole. And for the record, I was here first”. You aggressively push your car key into the ignition.

You were back in your apartment, editing your article on your gray velvet couch. You took a sip of your pineapple smoothie as you reread the last paragraph you’ve just written.

“Ken Sato, “the best living player”, is now the best living curse. From being on cloud 9 to falling into the pits of underworld, he might as well drag the giants along with him. Tread carefully Sato, consider yourself a dead man walking. If looks could kill, we wouldn’t be Coach Shimura”.

Is this considered slander? Possibly. But to you, it’s called journalism. And the best part of the job is the chaos it causes post-publish.

After rereading and editing, you hit publish. You sat back and watched as the likes and views came in.

Later that night, you were celebrating the success of your latest article, alone. You downed the last of your dirty shirley, feeling content with yourself and the hard work you’ve put in. You were about to ask for the bill, when the bartender placed a martini in front of you.

“I didn’t order this”. You look up at the bartender confused.

“It came from the gentleman in the black blazer”. He points to the man sitting at the end of the bar.

You look over with curiosity to see the man sitting at the end of the bar. Only to be disappointed when you realized the guy was Ken. He got up and walks up to you.

You glare at Ken as he approached you. “What do you want”?

“Can’t a man treat a cute girl to a drink”? He takes a seat next you.

You’ve been down this road before. After you publish an article, the athletes either bombards you with threatening emails or bribe you with money or expensive gifts. Either way, it didn’t faze you.

“If this is about the article, I’m not taking it down or tweaking it to your liking”.

“I usually don’t give a shit about what you personally think of me. However, my career is on the line because of you”. He said, his onyx eyes giving you the death stare.

“Awww, it’s not my fault the world thinks you suck. Go cry about it”. You roll your eyes.

“I’m not begging for you to delete the article. Instead, I’m offering you an opportunity”. Kenji proposes.

You turn your body towards him. “Go on”.

“You come live with me for the next two months, get the Kenji exclusive. You get to ask any question, and you get to follow me around. It’ll make great coverage for the sports magazine”. He leans back in his chair.

“Okay and why would I want to live with you”? You scoff.

Kenji smirks. “You can decline the once in a lifetime opportunity to do this interview, or I can tell everyone about our little escapade during college”.

You glared at him. “Excuse me”?

“Imagine if people found out that Ken Sato, a baseball legend and Y/N L/N, his biggest hater had a one night stand during our junior year. That would seriously affect your following and your career, wouldn’t it”? Kenji condescends, leaving you completely disgusted.

“You’re not the only one who can play dirty Y/N”. He smirks.

Of all the annoying things Kenji does, one thing you did not expect from him is to straight out blackmail you. Another is the fact that he’s right. If people found out you slept with an athlete, you can kiss your promotion goodbye. For once, you were backed into a corner, and there was nothing you could do or say to save yourself. Swallowing your pride, you decided to take the defeat.

“Fine. I’ll come shadow you”. You surrendered reluctantly.

Kenji smiles from ear to ear.

“But if you pull some shady shit on me, I’m ending it”. You threatened.

“Won’t be a problem”. Kenji pulls out a pen and writes something down on a napkin.

“Here’s the address to my house. Arrive at my place on Sunday at 9 am sharp”. He hands you the napkin and hands some cash to the bar tender.

“I look forward to this interview Y/N”. He winks at you as he leaves the bar. You sunk in your seat appalled.

“What the fuck did I just agree to”?

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Likes, Comments and Reblogs are always appreciated :)

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[whencyclopedia]

The Nerge: Hunting in the Mongol Empire

The peoples of the Mongol Empire (1206-1368 CE) were nomadic, and they relied on hunting wild game as a valuable source of protein. The Asian steppe is a desolate, windy, and often bitterly cold environment, but for those Mongols with sufficient skills at riding and simultaneously using a bow, there were wild animals to be caught to supplement their largely dairy-based diet. Over time, hunting and falconry became important cultural activities and great hunts were organised whenever there were major clan gatherings and important celebrations. These hunts involved all of the tribe mobilising across vast areas of steppe to corner game into a specific area, a technique known as the nerge. The skills and strategies used during the nerge were often repeated with great success by Mongol cavalry on the battlefield across Asia and in Eastern Europe.

Hunted Animals

The Mongols, like other nomadic peoples of the Asian steppe, relied on milk from their livestock for food and drink, making cheese, yoghurt, dried curds and fermented drinks. The animals they herded - sheep, goats, oxen, camels and yaks - were generally too precious as a regular source of wool and milk to kill for meat and so protein was acquired through hunting, essentially any wild animal that moved. Animals hunted in the medieval period included hares, deer, antelopes, wild boars, wild oxen, marmots, wolves, foxes, rabbits, wild asses, Siberian tigers, lions, and many wild birds, including swans and cranes (using snares and falconry). Meat was especially in demand when great feasts were held to celebrate tribal occasions and political events such as the election of a new khan or Mongol ruler.

A basic division of labour was that women did the cooking and men did the hunting. Meat was typically boiled and more rarely roasted and then added to soups and stews. Dried meat (si'usun) was an especially useful staple for travellers and roaming Mongol warriors. In the harsh steppe environment, nothing was wasted and even the marrow of animal bones was eaten with the leftovers then boiled in a broth to which curd or millet was added. Animal sinews were used in tools and fat was used to waterproof items like tents and saddles.

The Mongols considered eating certain parts of those wild animals which were thought to have potent spirits such as wolves and even marmots a help with certain ailments. Bear paws, for example, were thought to help increase one's resistance to cold temperatures. Such concoctions as powdered tiger bone dissolved in liquor, which is attributed all sorts of benefits for the body, is still a popular medicinal drink today in parts of East Asia.

Besides food and medicine, game animals were also a source of material for clothing. A bit of wolf or snow leopard fur trim to an ordinary robe indicated the wearer was a member of the tribal elite. Fur-lined jackets, trousers, and boots were a welcome insulator against the bitter steppe winters, too.

Continue reading...

[kneelingshadowsalome]

Hello!! I just started reading your works recently and I think it's safe to say that I have fallen in love with them <3 the way you write both the cod guys and the reader feels so real and poetic that I just, eat it up everytime. I read your Barbarian! König post and it got me thinking about something.

König and Ghost are kinda opposites when it comes to their darlings. König likes darlings fiesty and snippy but Ghost likes his darlings as more agreeable or soft but not weak, ykwim??

And it got me thinking about Barbarian! Ghost. Whereas König got his darling bc he killed her husband and she was there when it happened, I see Ghost as going to take one girl originally but then the darling steps in front of said girl and says to take her instead, saving the girl and sacrificing herself. Idk but I think he would be very attracted to that, and unlike König who gently picks you up and puts you upon his horse while you kick and bite him, Ghost grabs you and lays you stomach first against his horse harshly, keeping a sturdy hand on your back as he rides away.

Sorry if this is weird or ooc!! But it was just a thought that came to me!

Oh Barbarian!Ghost would be sooo disinterested on the outside. He only saves her ass discreetly, but saves it more than enough times to spark her curiosity.

Why does he come to her rescue and then abandons her to her own devices?

CW: Minor violence (bruises), noncon groping, fear of SA, blood, cuddling & snuggling, Ghost being a complex PTSD weirdo who has a fascination towards bones.

It’s actually she who approaches him first, not the other way around. He allows her to seek protection by staying near him and thus get the others off her back: he might even throw her a piece of roasted lamb as if she were some stray cat, lurking about his campfire. But there’s not much more than that on offer for her: only a few sideways glances that tell her he regards her mostly as a nuisance and a liability, accompanied by a few scrap bones that luckily have some meat and fat still on them.

He shows her how to snap the bigger ones in half to get to the life saving marrow, and that’s when she realizes he regards her a bit dumb, some pretty royal girl who doesn’t know how to survive without a man.

And who’s to blame for all that? Clever men who have forced her to learn poetry and songs, pluck chords and recite philosophers from memory. No one ever even taught her how to ride a horse, the only things she can do is chat about the latest political turns and whether it’s old-fashioned to style your hair Southern style.

Now she’s supposed to strike a conversation with a barbarian who dresses in furs and wool, who collects the knuckles of his fallen enemies and looks at her like she’s the uncivilized one here. He probably plays dice with those bones, and she’s never seen him force a woman under him; she’s never seen him take a woman at all.

He’s probably half dead already, some ghoul raised to ravage this earth. But everytime she gets drooled over or spat upon, groped or squeezed or slapped on the soft flesh of her butt, she makes her way to him and only him. To become one with the shadows too, or to disappear, perhaps.

He gives her his biggest, thickest pelt to wrap around her shoulders, to cover those assets that make these wartorn men so crazy. Or then he doesn’t want to find her frozen to death at dawn... Dark, vast eyes look at her in the early morning fog, up from above from the highest heights, as if asking why she overslept again.

A rabbit is thrown at her feet, but she doesn’t know what to do with it: she knows he wants her to skin it, yes, but how? Even with the knife he provides her, she can only stare at the soft creature helplessly, lick her dry, creaky lips until he sighs and comes to wrench the blade away, taking the hare before it turns too stiff.

She’s almost certain he’s not even interested in women until one day, someone goes a bit too far and grabs a handful of her to squeeze. The spitting, jerking and screaming turn into a whole fistfight until she gets drawn to her knees by her hair. He’s about to rip her scalp off, of that she is sure from how much it burns.

Tears stream down her face from pure pain alone, but this time, the bone marrow man doesn’t only save her. He walks to the scene like a shadow, yanks her gropers head back, and slits his throat right then and there. The others take a few steps back, mist rises from their gaping mouths as he lets go of the bleeding slump, looking at the pulsing, open vein as if he intends to drink from it. But it seems he only wanted to confirm that the dead stay dead because his interest in this man fades as quickly as it was aroused.

She rises to her feet, only to get swept off them as he dives for her hips and raises her to a crude carry, mainly meant for wheat sacks and sheep.

With a wide palm resting on her butt, he hauls her back to his fire, further away from the open field, and she doesn’t dare to utter a word. He doesn’t squeeze her, he doesn’t grope or slap or force her, but he does throw the fur away from her shoulders to check her body for bruises. She stays silent for the whole inspection as he moves her joints and limbs to check if anything’s broken, carefully like she indeed was only a little lamb. Brushes the pads of his fingers across the darkening spots that tell a story of violence, and it makes her shiver.

They’re just bruises, but they’re also evidence that her body is not her own anymore. Still, this clinical inspection feels far more intimate and warm than the rough hands and demanding mouths from before: it’s not just the intention behind the touch, it’s his presence.

You’ve never felt so thoroughly seen.

A low rumble rises in agreement to you taking his probing so well, and you kind of wish he would hold you tonight.

Just… Hold you.

When he withdraws, content with finding you relatively intact after the attempted assault, you grab his wrist. His head snaps back instantly, but he doesn’t pry himself away from your insolent little fingers. If anything, he’s curious.

You don’t know his words, and he doesn’t know yours, so you decide it’s best not to speak at all.

Pulling his palm back, you bring it to your hip, then further up to your waist, trying to make it clear that it’s only closeness and body warmth you seek. You leave it there, and it stays there, out of its own free will. A thumb brushes over your ribs, explorative. His eyes travel, they move down the line of your neck and try to decide what you might want from him, but then you see the fathomless depths he’s been hiding. His eyes come alive, and there’s such darkness there, an unquenchable well of want that shoots fear straight down your stomach.

You were wrong about him, so wrong…

He’s not disinterested, he’s just been holding back a tide as if it’s no big deal to fight back the very gods on his own.

His palm feels like fire, but he doesn’t move, only battles with his demons for a while. You lie there before him, feeling utterly idiotic for thinking he’s different from the rest of the men.

But then… The fur gets drawn over your half naked body. Slowly, deliberately. He’s not reverent: he only knows the consequences of his actions, and this is a path he does not wish to take.

It doesn’t prevent him from laying himself down to sleep next to you, however.

It doesn’t prevent you from slowly reaching an arm around him, the rigid form that slowly, so slowly turns lax. You risk to curl against him: not safe, only warm. A stray royal cat and a ghoul who collects bones, you think, but then the ghoul sighs and turns. You should feel rejected from the way he presents his back to you, but you suspect that it has something to do with him coming alive downstairs.

And you cling to him.

He doesn’t rip you off of him as you slip a hand under his arm and bend against him, like a river otter who just found a fat clam. His solemn breaths lull you to sleep, and he stays still for you: all night until the birds start to sing and the sun warms your face, the whole heap of you two.

Like a big pile of snow, melting on a summer’s day…

[mangoshorthand]

Announcing A Christmas Carol adaptation starring Five Hargreeves Five / GN or F reader: Rated ?

All was quiet and still but for the wilting tinsel shifting minutely in the tiny draft at the window frames. The bar was deserted - as dead as a doornail, you might say. You're a Christmas-hating bar owner with the world's most annoying regular - the sort of idiot that goes around with a 'Merry Christmas' and a goofy smile on his lips. In your opinion, Luther should be roasted with his own turkey and buried with a stake of holly through his heart. But when you're visited by strange apparition on Christmas Eve, you realize that your Grinch-like ways have more of an effect than you could have ever anticipated. And who better to teach you the error of your ways than Luther's brother, who holds the power of Christmases Past, Present and Yet to Come in the palm of his hand.

Chapter One now posted! >

Yes. I'm ripping off Dickens, and shamelessly, I might add. And as Dickens wrote serially, I may as well rip that off too. Usually I write my entire fics before I post them, so this will be a challenge for me, but I vow to get the whole thing (4-5 chapters) done before Christmas.

I'll aim to update once or twice per week: on Tuesdays, Fridays, or maybe both!

Will this be a G-rated family friendly romance or a filthy smut-filled christmas romp? I genuinely don't know! Will the main character remain gender neutral, or won't they? I hope you know, because I sure as fuck don't.

Join me in this hare-brained scheme, watch as I flounder trying to get this motherfucker written in time for Christmas, look on in confusion as I jam Luther into the role of both Scrooge's nephew and Tiny Tim, and wince in pain as I shit on the work of one of the most beloved authors and social commentators of all time!

God Bless us. Every one.

[otocyon]

hii!! um.. could i have recipes that would apply for a warrior cat? any clan… i’m mostly just looking to fulfill how yummy all of the fresh kill sounded to me as a young cat :,) no restrictions btw!!

yippee i also wanted to eat the prey in warriors so bad... i still do couldn't pick a clan, so went with some general ones!! hope you enjoy :]

frogs/toads french fried frog legs || louisiana frog legs

birds pheasant coq au vin || honey & garlic wild duck || roasted whole doves with paprika and butter || whole roasted chicken

fish amazingly moist salmon || easy baked trout || cantonese steamed fish || easy baked herb crusted salmon

rabbits/hares rabbit in wine and garlic sauce || rabbit stew || garlic roasted rabbit || hunter rabbit

to satisfy certain cravings... raw fish: sashimi, sushi, tuna tartare, ceviche bones: wraps with just meat + lettuce/tortilla strips, skewer meat cubes on pretzels, eat chunks of meat with carrot sticks (or other crunchy vegetable) carrion: shredded or really saucy meat, ground meats, fermented meats, bacon bits/meat sticks/jerky fur/feathers: meat floss, rice noodles, kelp noodles, leafy greens, or shaved bits of vegetables

consider using whole animals to get the most accurate simulation if accessible to you, but most of these recipes should be available to do with fillets/cuts of meat as well.

[mysticstarlightduck]

Seven Sentences Sunday! Writing Share Tag! <3

Thanks for the tag, @rickie-the-storyteller!!!! I know this is a 7 Sentence Tag but I am too lazy so I'm gonna treat it as a Writing Share tag lmao

I'll go with a snippet from Arrows of Nightfall for this one (:

Snow crunched underneath Asrius' worn out, heavy fur-lined boots, as he trudged through the frozen trail. The ground was covered in thick blankets of white, frost crawling up the treetrunks and tinging everything around him with cold. The trees were barren, their ashen branches creaking in the howling wind, their fallen leaves long since turned to wet mulch under the thick snow.

The familiar smell of burning wood from scattered campires was the only welcome he had as he neared the war camp once more. It would've been comforting, if it wasn't followed by the faint smell of roasted venison and the cheers of the older soldiers sharing their vast, filling portions in the main tent. None of that feast would ever make its way to him, or to his cousin.

That, the Commander had made damn well sure of.

All that Asrius had to keep him and Eirian from starving in these frozen wastes were small, dwindling stashes of dry meat and stale old bread, and whatever small critter - usually a hare or a phesant, though now, at this point in the winter, where the forests had turned into a deserted death trap, he wasn't above hunting for rats - he could manage to kill and smuggle into camp without being spotted by his so-called comrades. If he was lucky.

Today, he wasn't lucky.

His hunting escapade today had left him with nothing more than weary, frost-bitten bones and empty hands, his entire body protesting the unwanted effort after the grueling scouting missions the Commander had not-so-generously burdened him with. Nothing. He'd gotten nothing. And he knew what awaited him in their small, shared tent in the far edge of camp - Eirian, his cousin, barely eleven winters of age, and their tiny stash of supplies hidden under an old pack. Today it wouldn't be enough for half a meal for even one of them, let alone them both.

He'd have to take a risk. To steal from the more favored soldiers, the ones gathering around the main table. The ones who loved to beat him up, and whose cruel laughter seemed to be the backdrop of his life nowadays. He'd have to try. Maybe he could swipe a pastry or two from the feast the others shared, sneak it away under his cloak. He hoped they were drunken enough that such an act would go unnoticed.

Asrius tugged at his cloak so it wrapped more tightly around his shoulders, as if the rough hewn cloth could offer something akin to warmth in this weather, with the wind slashing at his skin like icy daggers. Each step he took closer to the main tent felt like a battle against his own instincts screaming at him to just stop. But he couldn't afford to stop. If he did, he and Eirian would be soon to become like those corpses that seemed to litter the edge of the roads, gaunt husks reaped by illness and hunger, drained of life.

He refused to let that be their fate.

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[useless-catalanfacts]

Expressions for cold and heat in Catalan

Besides the simple "fa fred" (it's cold) and "fa calor" (it's hot), there are many fun expressions in the Catalan language to talk about it.

How to say it's cold? 🥶

Fa fred (it's cold)

Fa un fred que pela (the cold peels you)

Fa un fred de mil dimonis (it's a cold of a thousand demons)

Fa un fred que glaça el pensament (the cold freezes your thought)

Fa un fred que talla or fa un fred que talla la cara (the cold cuts or the cold cuts your face)

Fa un fred que rau (it's a cold that scrapes)

Fa un fred que aixeca les pedres (the cold lifts the stones up)

Fa un fred que glaça la cua dels gossos (the cold freezes dogs' tails)

How to say it's hot or sunny? 🥵☀️

Fa sol (it's sunny) / fa calor (it's hot)

Fa un sol de justícia (it's a sun of justice)

Fa un sol que bofega (it's a sun that blisters)

Fa un sol que estavella/esquerda/rosteix les pedres (it's a sun that breaks/roasts the stones)

Fa un sol que bada les pedres/penyes (it's a sun that opens the stones/crags)

Fa un sol que torra el cul a les llebres (it's a sun that toasts the hares' butts)

Fa un sol que tomba de cul (it's a sun that knocks you down on your butt)

Fa un sol que estaborneix (it's a sun that stuns / that knocks you out)

Fa un sol que fa grinyolar els cans (it's a sun that makes dogs yelp)

Fa un sol que fa caure la cua als moixons (it's a sun that makes birds' tails fall off)

Fa un sol que cauen els moixons rostits (it's a sun that the birds fall down roasted)

Fa un sol que torra pardals (it's a sun that toasts sparrows/birds)

Fa un sol que espanta les mosques (it's a sun that scares the flies)

Fa un sol que s'hi couen les sargantanes (it's a sun that boils lizards)

Cau foc or plou foc (fire is falling down or it's raining fire)

Cauen atxes enceses (lit torches are falling down)

Cau una bona teia (a good torch is falling down on us)

Fa una calor que atalba/aclapara (it's an overwhelming heat)

Fa una calor de mil dimonis (it's a heat of a thousand demons)

Fa una calor de cal Déu (it's a heat of God's house)

Fa una calor que sua el sagrari (it's a heat that the church tabernacle sweats)

Fa una calor que em suen les dents (it's a heat that my teeth sweat)

[mxmorbidmidnight]

My forms I take as a shapeshifter (part 1)

1) goose

The goose has lore. We are also known as The Mighty goose plague upon John of England. We take many goosing forms, sometimes even the form of a swan for comedic value. The goose size of things gives us very protective instincts, almost to the point of volatility. We have the instinct to protect and nurture, much like geese who are known to commit extreme violence in defence of each other

2) siren

We have strong connection to the water and always have, as well as music. We very much often associate our body with the physical form of a siren. We find ourselves in a state of extreme concentration and disconnect from humanity when by water, often singing for hours. Our siren form is beastly, with great claws and frills around or face, scales lining our body and fins hanging off our tail, torn and dragging behind us like scarves in a wash bucket. We do not fit human beauty standards, our enchant comes through the pull some may experience towards strangeness. Probably also the reason that when we were a child and we fell into the ocean we just played there under the water enamoured by the beauty of it, and probably would have done that for a while if someone hadn’t pulled me out. I also used to stand on the roof of our shed and sing to the neighbours. That also might just be because I’m a theatre kid though.

3) witch

Not only are we a witch in spiritual and religious practice, but we find our witch form tends to be its own sort of point of existence. When we cast spells we take on a form ideal for magic, entirely fluid and channeling certain energies, mythologies, runes and elements. We often find ourself embodying the form of the fearsome and beastful witch described through history and folklore

4) harpy

But not in the majestic way. I’m a fucking scruffly, crusty bird woman. I have bird feet, wings, sometimes a bird face and overall the most unbalanced and chaotic blend of human and bird features. This form gives me the urge to sit on rooftops and scream.

5) wolverine

Along with the goose this is most often my defensive form. I look like this

6) Lovecat

A specific feline creature however recoiling around the whimsical concept and imagery fo the song by the cure “the lovecats”

7) jackalope hare

A Jack rabbit often with mythic features like the creature of legend the Jackalope (horned rabbit). A quick and cryptic creature, loving on the wind and possessing a body so strange. Also just weird as hell. These are some vague depictions now just imagine with horns and other such strangeties

8) borzoi

Just a really weird ass cursed as hell dog

9) cavalier King Charles spaniel

I have a close bond with this particular bastard breeed (affectionate) as I was roasted with one and have one as part of my pack. This is why I take on this form (I take on the forms of those dear to me).

In part two I will go further in depth into my other forms (for there are many many more), particularly more of the complicated mythical beasts I become.

[deuxcherise]

The Buck and the Reynard

C/w: Unhealthy behavior, yandere male, male!buck oc, male!fox reader (doesn't really have to be male, but male pronouns are used), straightness is implied to be the “norm” but nobody actually cares here, makes fun of animal behavior, interspecies relations, some horror element, a bit suggestive but nothing super explicit

A/n: So… oh my goodness. I finally finished it in time for Christmas! You don’t know how many times I’ve re-written this. Anyway, I personally wanted to keep it in a similar style of how I wrote The Hare and the Fox so there is kind of a… I’m thinking eldritch horror element (if I’m using that term right) somewhere in there. The Winter Solstice event written in here is inspired by Christmas, but you don’t necessarily need to celebrate Christmas in order to follow, I think? A lot of jumping forward from each moment but I hope you enjoy every single one~

Masterlist

Once upon a time, there was a clever, clever fox who found itself stuck at the bottom of a deep, deep well.

The fox did not cry, nor did it weep. The fox simply waited until another came along.

A four-legged animal, with cloven hooves and curved horns happened to pass by and noticed this poor fox. “Oh my! How did you get yourself stuck at the bottom of this well?” it asked, concerned. “Are you alright?”

“Nevermind that,” replied the fox. “My dear, my dear, won’t you help this poor soul out?”

“Of course!” answered the other. “It would be my pleasure.”

At this, the fox bared its teeth, grinning a malicious grin.

…..

…..

…..

“Roasting chestnuts, over an open fire~” sings your father as he prepares the fire pit, throwing in dry grass and logs to raise the crackling flames.

You come up behind him, bundled arms full of freshly collected spiky chestnuts. Your ears flicker from excitement. “Papa, Papa! I’m done!”

Your father turns around with a jolly smile. “Wow! Great job, son. You’ve done a wonderful-” Then he sees the kid beside you, also carrying an armful of spiky chestnuts, and blinks. “Uh, who’s this?”

You follow your father’s gaze and then turn back to pipe up, “Oh yah, that’s Roo-dee. He’s my rein… Uh… what was it? Something deer. He’s my deer!”

One of your father's ears folds down while the other stays up, matching the position of his eyebrows. “... That true?” he asks your friend.

Rudie nods shyly. “I-I’m his dear.”

“Yah, see?”

Your father stares for a moment, blank as he processes this information. Then he shrugs and says with a smile, “Alright. Well, I’m sure your mama and siblings will have questions when they see him but, uh, let’s get to roasting, yeah?”

“Yah!” “Y-yes, sir!”

-----

“So you’re a reindeer?” “A deer?” “Never seen one before.” “He doesn’t look like one.” “Where’s his antlers?” “Do you know Papa Snow?” “Does your nose glow red?” “Where’s the rest of you?”

All of your siblings and some of their significant others ogle at Rudie, while you stand nearby with your chest puffed with pride. If it weren’t for you and your clever ways, you would have never been able to not only escape from a deep well but also capture an actual deer who’d do your bidding.

Nevermind that he was technically abandoned… and that he’s just a stupid deer who you scared into making a deal to loyally follow you for life in exchange for his own life. Dumb creatures are designed to follow clever beings like foxes, after all. It’s simply nature. He should feel lucky that it was you who found him. Heh!

“You’re a small one, aren’t you?” Arley, the rabbit, says. His yellow eyes are still, in your opinion, as unnerving as the day your eldest sister first brought him home. “Barely nubs for-” he pauses to hold in his laughter, “‘antlers’, huh?”

One might wonder how a rabbit could possibly co-exist within the midst of a skulk of foxes. Well, that’s another story.

“Don’t be rude,” your eldest sister, Eldie, reprimands him, pinching his cheek and eliciting an “owie” and “sowwie, darling” from him. 

“Your eyes look weird for a deer,” your second oldest sister, Deucy, comments. “I thought they had round ones like ours.”

“Indeed,” Theodore, the bear, agrees. “And I’ve seen quite a-”

“Ugh, shut up, Barry, nobody cares what you think,” Deucy cuts in, rolling her eyes.

He grins mischievously at her. “Aww~ Calling me by nickname now, honey?”

One might also wonder how a bear could possibly co-exist within the midst of a skulk of foxes. That’s also another story.

“What’s a deer?” asks Swanson, a duckling.

One of your ears sticks up while the other flops down in confusion. “Who are you?” you ask.

“Oh! I’m babysitting for my friends,” your third oldest sibling answers. “This is Swanson, say hi~ Did you know, his parents are a turkey and a duck?”

“And to answer your question,” your eldest sister jumps in, “a deer is a four-legged creature…”

While they explain to the duckling, you find Rudie escaping from your siblings’ eyeful examination to cower behind you. “(Y-y/n)... There’s so… many… W-who?”

“Oh, these are my siblings. And that bunny is Arley and that bear is Theo and that duckling… Uh, I don’t know but yah!”

“Idea~” your third sibling sings. “Since you two are about the same age as Swanson, how about the three of you play together?”

Swanson nods.

You throw your hands up in excitement. “Yah!”

Rudie mimics you with a softer, “Y-yes…’

-----

“Since I’m clearly the top animal here, I’ll be the king,” you declare with one hand on your hip and the other in the air. You point at Rudie. “You’re obviously my servant. Right?”

“Y-yes, sir!” Rudie salutes you. Whether or not he disagreed deep down, he doesn’t seem to make any sort of gesture or expression indicating otherwise.

Then you point to Swanson. “And you… um… What do you want to be?”

Swanson tilts his head side-to-side thoughtfully before coming up with, “Every king needs a queen, right? I’ll be your queen then.”

You hadn’t thought of that before, but that logic makes sense. “Oh, ok-”

“NO!” Rudie cuts in before he runs over and wraps his arms around you, looking at Swanson and baring his dull teeth, surprisingly unbecoming of a prey animal. “(Y/n) only needs me! I’ll be queen.”

“But you’re my servant,” you reason.

“But he’s a swan!” Rudie retorts. “Swans can’t be with foxes.”

“But deer can?” asks Swanson.

“Besides, royalty can’t be servants, and you having two roles is unfair, anyway,” you add.

“But I’m your dear!” Rudie exclaims. “So that makes you my dear!”

Now that doesn’t make any sense. “What? You’re my deer because you’re a deer. But I’m not a deer!”

Swanson groans, “Ugh, let’s play something else.”

Rudie’s brow is so wrinkled, you feel he might develop a creased forehead despite being so young. “Yeah… ” you sigh. ‘You choose then, please Swanson?”

And so the three of you ended up forgoing “Follow the King” to play “Duck, Duck, Goose”, in which Swanson came out on top while Rudie ended up in third place as expected.

-----🐐🦊-----

Many, many moons have passed and all of your siblings have left the den, leaving you, the youngest, as the only one left who has yet to settle down and have your own kits at your own den.

“My, my~ What a great-looking tail you have~”

You chew on the inside of your cheek, a tight grin plastered on your face as a female fox handles and caresses your fluffy tail.

The Great Feast is held every single year during the height of autumn to gather and celebrate all of the animals who have contributed to the grand pile of food in the middle of the forest. Although all of the carnivores, herbivores, and the omnivores, and whoever else join in one place, surprisingly there is a lack of close interaction between species. In addition to celebrating life, this event is seen more as an opportunity for… something else.

“Have many children do you want?”

“Where do you like to live? Near a river or near a mountain?”

“How good are your hunting or gathering skills?”

“How long can you last-”

“Enough!” you screech. You clear your throat and make your way through the crowd. “Aha. Sorry, sorry. I need to use the bathroom. Apologies. Uh-huuuh. Excuuuuse me!”

With some effort, you manage to wiggle your way out of the group of husband-hungry vixens and immediately head straight for the nearest tree. Hiding behind one, you press your back against the trunk and slide down in exhaustion.

“Please do your best to be polite among others,” your mother had requested. You feel you’ve done your part as best as you can, because you could not possibly stand another second stuck between those suffocating fur coats. In all the blue above, please let this event end already so I can go home and sleep in my extremely comfy nest.

Step step step step.

You look up and find Rudie, hunched over on his knees, wiping the sweat from his forehead as he breathes heavily. The moment his eyes meet yours, you stiffen and then knowing smiles appear on your faces.

“Wow, been running for your life?” you joke, patting the patch of grass next to you. “You scared of getting hitched or something?”

“Hah! Are you?” he throws back at you as he takes a seat and rests his back against the trunk. As his sweat evaporates, a pleasingly sweet aroma of musk and leaves waltzes around in the air.

Adulthood in your family is marked by the mature development of your scent glands and your height surpassing a particular mark on your family's special oak tree. Despite being of another species, Rudie also followed suit, actually towering over you by a head. That was to be expected, considering deer are typically larger than foxes, much to your annoyance.

“Nah. But I'm surprised. I thought your antlers would've sent them running,” you comment, admiring the bark of the trees in front of you.

Oddly, his once tiny, sensitive nubs have transformed into malformed antlers, two large snail-shell-like spirals curled on each side of his head.

He clicks his tongue, rolling his eyes. “Oh, shut up.”

One of your ears sticks up as the other flops down. “Oi, oi. Who are you to tell your king to shut up?”

He playfully sighs. “As your humble, humble servant, I would never dare.. But if I did, my sincerest and deepest apologiiiiies, my dear liege. Please. Continue to insult me.”

You chuckle, a bit ticked. “I would give you a pat on the head for your obedience, but calling me a deer? Insubordinate, and churlish. How dare you?”

“Then… should I call you darling just like Arley does?” he offers.

“Pleeeeaaase, do not,” you chuckle, contemplating on those words. “Ya know… between you and me, I think he calls her that because he actually likes her. What do you think?”

A gentle wind goes by, rustling the leaves.

“... I think he does.”

“Of course, you'd agree with me,” you say. “So~ Meet any cute, uh, doe? Is that what female deer are called?”

“No.”

You notice how quickly his response came. “Uh… so no as in-”

“I didn't like any of them,” he clarifies.

“Ah.” You find yourself momentarily lost for words, seeing as you’re also in the same situation. “Bummer. Maybe you'll meet one in the next Great Feast.”

“I won't.”

Again, his response came quite quickly. So sure of himself of this statement.

“And what exactly makes you so sure of that?” you wonder.

“Because I’ve already promised myself to another.”

Your head jerks towards him, astonished. “What??? Since when? I’m your king and yet why have I not heard of this???”

Another gust of wind brushes past the trees. His expression is blank. The horizontally rectangular black pupils against yellow irises of his eyes stare into yours as if peering through to your soul. He says nothing.

…..

“Um… Rudie?” You wave a hand in front of you. “You, uh, okay?”

He finally snaps out of it, a grin breaking onto his face and turns away. “That’s a secret, dear.”

One of your ears flickers in annoyance, but you surrender since he’s the most stubborn animal you’ve ever met. “Aha fine, fine. Be that way. … And don't call me a deer.”

“Right, dear.”

You groan.

“Wow, so this is where you guys have been hiding. Great.”

Both of your heads jerk to the side towards the third addition to your party, only to find Swanson slouched over and breathing heavily next to you. He looks at you with a scowl. “What?”

You purse your lips, holding in your laugh. “S-So I’m guessing you… ?”

Swanson shakes his head. “Heck no. How you seen those hens?”

The image of those female ducks ripping out each other's feathers over who gets to contribute to the pile of food first appears in your head. “Yup. Anyway, oi. Get this. Rudie’s already got someone.”

“Really?”

Rudie keeps silent.

“What? Not going to tell me?” Swanson asks, though his tone is more like he already knew this would be the case. “I’m guessing you didn’t tell (Y/n) either.” He scoffs and mutters,

“Excuse me?” Rudie says.

“You know who it is?” you ask.

Swanson looks at you, eyes moving up and down over your face. He shoots a quick glance over at Rudie. “Yeah-”

“That’s none of your business!” Rudie shouts, grabbing you by the arm and forcing you to stand up beside him. “Let’s go. The event’s almost over anyway.”

“W-wait a bloody second!” You look back to Swanson as you get dragged away, catching Swanson rolling his eyes before he disappears in the opposite direction.

-----🐐🦊-----

[Several moons later…]

“Dear, would you like a star or a partridge on top of the tree?”

Your ears flops backwards and you click your tongue. “Would you stop calling me a deer? And I'll take the star, thank you very much.”

“Whatever you say, dear,” Rudie hums.

You sigh as you sort through a box of ornaments to place on the tree to celebrate the Winter Solstice. Unfortunately for you, a large snow storm had passed over your part of the forest recently, forcing you and potentially all of your siblings to forgo the trip to your family den.

You pick and hold up a shiny red ornament with golden accents, only to catch the sight of Rudie behind it, trying to determine which angle the wooden star should sit on the tree’s tip.

Ever since your first attendance to the Great Feast as adults, he hasn't stopped calling you a deer for some reason. You've tried asking, but then he'd brush you off and call you a deer again. Annoying. What is your future mate going to think if your servant can’t respect you right? Actually, what’s his future mate going to think? Maybe you should consider booking a crow therapist to help him break this bad habit…

Or maybe not. Sometimes… just sometimes, you hope he’s calling you his dear rather than just a deer… You shake your head, ridding yourself of stupid ideas of what you both could be and what you are now. He’s already taken anyway…

On a different note-

You join him, holding an ornament in each hand. “Seeing as we're snowed,” you start off, handing him an ornament to put wherever he likes, “I guess you'll be joining me for the Winter Solstice this year?”

Psshhhhh!

The ornament you gave him shatters on the floor, after he flinched and accidentally dropped it. You look between him and the ornament with speechless concern.

All of the blood in his face looks drained out. “I'm…” He shakes his head and kneels down to pick up the pieces. “I'm sorry. Sorry. I don't… I don’t know what came over me.”

You try to stop him. “Oi, don't-”

“Ah!” He hisses and places a nicked finger into his mouth.

Your brow furrows. “I don't get it. Is the idea of celebrating the Winter Solstice with me or with my family so bad?”

He looks at you frightened, taking his finger out of his mouth. “No! No, not at all. I just…”

“Then why?” you urge him. “Why do you disappear during this time every time?”

“I… I…”

Several reasons roll through your mind before one obvious one presents itself on the front stage. “Oh right, you got a secret lover. Right. Right.”

“It’s not…” He mulls over for a few moments. “It's for your own safety.”

“My safety?” you echo.

He nods, looking at where the shattered pieces lay while he fiddles with his fingers.

You look up then to the side and then back to Rudie. “Listen, I get it. I’m not going to be offended or stop you from meeting your secret lover-”

“I don’t have a secret lover!”

Yeah right. “Then why? What is so important that you end up disappearing during every single Winter Solstice?”

He squeezes his eyes. “You don't… You don't want to know, dear.”

You knock against one of his malformed antlers. “Oi, don't think you can avoid answering by calling me a deer.”

“What's it to you what I do anyway?” he suddenly snaps, making you flinch. “Why do you care? You miss me or something?”

“Yeah! Yeah, of course I do! You're my servant. Of course, I'd miss having you around to, you know, boss around?” you say, trying to lace your response with humor.

He narrows his eyes, then sighs before getting up and heading to the storage cabinets to pick up a broom before returning. “Yeah… sure. Forget it. Just…” He pauses for a moment. “When that eve comes, don't leave the bedroom, okay?”

“Don't leave my room on the Winter Solstice?” you say, pitch getting higher with each word in disbelief. You glance over at your tree. “On Winter Solstice? Gee, wow. I don't even get to see my family this time and you expect me to stay inside a small room so you can be by yourself in the living room? Wow. Never thought I’d see the day you’d be ordering me around, huh.”

“Do you want to live or not?” he asks, exasperated.

“Me being alive rides on me not being able to see you on Winter Solstice?” you shoot back.

“You know what? Forget it,” he shuts you down, sweeping the broken ornament onto a pan. “On Winter Solstice, you'll be in the bedroom and I'll be… Yeah. That’s that.”

You open your mouth to retort, close it, then open it again, before ultimately keeping silent as you go to pick out other ornaments. “Fine. Have it your way,” you mumble under your breath.

-----🐐🦊-----

[Winter Solstice's Eve, Day Time]

“Oh thank you, oh thank you so much, kind sir!”

You smile brightly, “No problem! Rudie, go fetch a heavy blanket for the vi- miss.”

Rudie nods silently with a blank expression before he saunters off. The female fox who happened across your den looks at him curiously as she brushes off the snow from her hair. “Rudie, huh? You've named your food “Rudie”?” she asks you.

You blink. “What!? No? He’s not my food, more like my ser- friend. And his name is actually Rudie. Well, short for Rudolph actually, but I call him Rudie.”

“Oh…” She leans in close to your face, too close for your comfort, and cups her mouth before whispering, “So you keep him around as a pet?”

You back off to distance yourself from the vixen. “He's not-”

Thump.

Rudie returned only to drop the heavy blanket to the floor. You swerve your head before heading over to him to pick the blanket off the floor. You look up, only to find an angry expression on his face. You lean in close to him and whisper through gritted teeth, “What are you doing? Don't drop a blanket meant for a guest on the floor.”

He stares harshly before he seems to snap out of it and leans in closer, whispering back through gritted teeth as well, “And what are you doing, letting her get so friendly when you've just met?”

“Friendly?” Your tail flicks. “What? I can’t even talk to people we’re saving from the storm now? Geez. Well, excuse me for enjoying some company, ‘cause someone here clearly doesn’t.”

He raises his eyebrows, cocking his head. “Oh? You enjoy her company? Well, that's great to hear,” he says, sarcasm drenching his tone. “Why don't you invite her to the bedroom while you're at it, dear?”

Now, you're ticked off. “Oh, what a bloody great idea. Between our bedroom and the living room— which you’ve already taken over— there's nowhere else she can sleep anyway! Genius!”

“Um, excuse me?” the fox cuts in hesitantly, making you both jerk your heads over. “I'm sorry to bother you, but is that blanket meant for me?”

“Yes! Yes it is.” You give Rudie the cold shoulder and wrap the blanket around the fox, patting her shoulders. “There you go! Do you want another one?”

“No, not at all~” she purrs, looking at you bashfully. “But thank you for offering, kind sir.”

You wave it off. “Don't mention it. But would you like a cuppa?”

She giggles behind a hand, her tail sashaying from side-to-side. “I wouldn't mind a spot of tea.”

You can hear Rudie scoff in the background, but you choose to ignore it in favor of setting the kettle on.

-----

[Night Time]

“Let me know if you feel uncomfortable at any point. I understand this situation might be… precarious, seeing as you're a lady. I would’ve opted to sleep in the living room, but someone-” You mentally remind yourself to stop gritting your teeth so much. “-has already taken over. That being said, just say the word and I’ll be out the door in a blink of an eye.”

The fox settles into your nest, on all fours with her behind faced towards you as she stretches out her back. “Oh~ I don't think I'll be feeling uncomfortable at all with you around,” she says, batting her eyes after she flattens out.

You give her a thumbs up. “Great to hear!” You then tucked yourself underneath your blanket on the other side of the room. “Goodnight, sleep tight and don't let the bedbugs bite!”

Satisfied with your hospitality, you close your eyes.

“Uh… Kind sir?”

You sit up. “Yes?”

She's also sitting up, looking at you with confused ears. “What are you doing over there?”

You look at your spot. “What do you mean?”

She points down. “This is your nest, right?

You take a moment before you nod slowly. “Yes…” You ruminate over potential reasons she would ask before something pops up. “Oh! I apologize but Rudie and I don't have a spare nest, seeing as we don't usually have guests so… that's the only nest we have unfortunately. Um…”

“Oh! No no no! I don't mind the nest at all. I was just… simply wondering why you're laying over there?” She brushes a hand over your nest. “This is such a large nest, and there's plenty of space over here, so… I don't mind if you want to lay next to me. It's your nest, after all.”

“Oh, I wouldn't want to impose.” At all.

“It wouldn't be imposing at all~ In fact, it is a bit chilly. A little more… heat wouldn't be so bad~” she insists.

You stare and then it finally registers. You get up on your feet and head over to her. “My apologies. I don't have any more blankets-”

Because that damn deer took all of them.

You offer your remaining blanket. “-but you can have this one, if you don't mind my scent.”

She tentatively reaches out and brings the bottom of your blanket to bottom half of her face, audibly sniffing it and purrs, “Your scent is delightfully yummy~”

Your tail flicks with appreciation. “Why, thank you!”

“Yes… but it’s strange.”

“Come again?” 

“This is your nest and yet it doesn't smell like you at all.”

Wow, she’s asking a lot of questions. Ugh, I wanna sleep. “Oh, that's because Rudie and I replaced the sheets with new ones.”

“Oh…” She looks away, biting her lip, and then looks back at you. “You… You said he's not food…”

“He- You mean, Rudie? Yeah, he's not my food. He's my friend.”

She tilts her head. “What is he to you? Truly?”

“My best friend?” you offer, confused when you've already answered the first time.

Her eyes narrow. “You…” Then they relax as a grin settles on her lips. “Hmm~ Could you do me a favor?”

What now? “Uh, sure? What do you need?”

“Can you… you get a little closer?” she asks, holding out her hand.

Curious, you get closer. Now within reach, she suddenly grips your hand and flips you under her, much to your shock. She licks her lips, and traces the side of your jaw. “You don't seem to be getting the hint, so let me be blunt…”

Only then, do you smell a very fragrant, flowery aroma wafting about the air.

You stutter, “Oi oi oi, are you-”

“In heat?” she moans, sitting on top of you. “Yeah~? About time, you figured it out~”

Oh heck no.

Apologising to her mentally, you immediately grab her by her sides and shove her off. You scramble off your nest and exit the bedroom, shutting the door before her claws can catch your tail.

“Come baaaaack! Come baaaaack!” she sobs behind the door, scratching the wood. “I need it! I NEED IT! I NEED YOUR KN-”

“NO, YOU DON'T!” you screech back, blushing madly. You do your best to hold the door as she tries to pull it back open.

Despite how tantalizing her aroma is, even if you had stayed for some reason, it does nothing for you. It would be a shame— not to mention, embarrassing— for both parties if she… well, tried. 

The longer you hold the door, the more energy becomes directed towards your hands and away from the lower extremities, forcing you to end up sitting on the floor while keeping your hands tightly gripping around the doorknob. All the while, the vixen continues to sob and moan for you.

And then you feel it.

A sharp ping! in your instincts. All of your hair raises up as goosebumps form along your skin and something icey races through your veins. You slowly turn your head to the side and look into the darkness of the living room, finding two white dots next to each in the middle of it.

“R-rudie?” you call out nervously. “Rudie… I’m sorry but, uh… we have a situation? I can’t be in there with our guest!” 

Rudie says nothing.

Maybe he’s asleep. I'm… I'm just seeing things, right? you tell yourself, until you see the white dots move as your eyesight adjusts.

You start to see a form. There are horns sticking upwards, like a bull but more curly, through a red cloak, edged with a white furry lining. It heads over to you slowly, crawling on all fours.

Thump. Thump. Thump. Thump.

You can't see their hind legs underneath the oversized cloak but it looks hunched over, with long, spindly fingers and untrimmed nails in the front. Fear grips you by the throat, stealing all strength from your body and especially your ears, now unable to pick up the sounds of the vixen's wails against the blood pumping through your ears.  The creature stops near you, not enough for you to be able to see its face underneath the hood, but enough to make you want to get back into the bedroom. 

Your breath shudders as you try to take deep breaths, feeling lightheaded.

“PLEAAAAASE!” wails the vixen, cutting in through the silence sharply.

It suddenly tilts its head, so quickly it almost looks like it snapped itself, making you jolt. “Nauuuughttyyy, naaaughttttyyy,” it drawls, sounding like a thousand voices trapped in one being.

You shake your head stiffly, as if trying to convince yourself that what you’re looking at isn’t real.

The creature seems to shift its head towards the door, based on the direction of the horns. For a moment, all is silent except for the vixen still pounding at the door. “Naaaaaaughhtttyyyy,” it rumbles.

It reaches out with its bony hand towards the door much to your horror, and then through the door much to your confusion. You hear the vixen gasp.

CRACK!

The creature’s hand slowly retreats back to the floor to hold up its body. You don't feel any resistance on the door, causing you to look between the creature and the door with utmost dismay. “W-what did you do?”

The creature stays silent.

“What. Did. You. Do?” You repeat, voice becoming shrill with each word. Your hands are unable to let go of the doorknob, almost as if afraid the door will fall open and you'll find… you don't want to know.

The creature continues to stay silent, as if watching you and debating its next move.

“R-rudie?” you begin to call out into the darkness behind the creature. “Rudie? Are you there? Wake up. Please wake up now!”

Rudie doesn't answer back.

Where is he? Don't tell me this… this creature… No! No, it couldn't- I didn't hear- Rudie can't be-

You hear a rumbling sound from the creature, shutting you up. It reaches out to you with both of its bony spindly hands, making you finally let go of the doorknob and crawl backwards in fright. 

“Rudie!” you begin to wail, tears pooling in your eyes. “WAKE UP! RUDIE! Rudie! RUDIE! WAKE UP! I LOVE YOU! PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE!”

Unfortunately, you're not fast enough before it crawls towards you and wraps its arms around you, pulling you forward into the crushing embrace of the dark opening of its cloak.

All went dark.

.

The end.

.

My dear, my dear, won’t you help this poor soul out?

But mark my words, there's no need to shout,

It's time for joy, and that's why I am here.

For it’s the naughty ones that have much to fear…

.

.

.

.

.

Your eyes groggily open, waking up to the smell of musk and leaves and the feeling of the weight of a heavy boulder draped over your body. You shift your head and find a familiar set of malformed antlers sleeping on your chest.

Your eyes immediately widen. “Rudie!?” you screech.

Your shrill voice wakes him up. He smacks his mouth as he lifts his head and looks at you sleepily. “Hnh?”

The events of… last night?- Yesterday?- Earlier?- flows into your head and you immediately grab him by his malformed antlers, eliciting a blush-inducing sound from him. You ignore it in favor of exclaiming, “What are you doing here? I thought you'd be- I thought you were-”

He makes a strangely familiar rumbling sound as he gazes at you, before he gently pecks you on the lips and settles back down on your chest.

Wide-eyed, your mouth hangs open as your cheeks heat up to a thousand degrees. “Wha? Wha-”

“Nngh… Love you too. Now, go back to sleep… It’s Winter Solstice…” he says, shifting his body a bit so that he can nuzzle your neck. “Let’s just sleep some more, okay dear? We can talk about it later.”

“Don’t…” Oh, why bother? “But what about our guest? How did-”

 “Ugh, like I said. Don’t worry about it. Sleep.”

“But-”

“Fine… You wanna talk now?” Rudie gets up on his hands and knees over you as you lay on the couch, gazing at you silently as he licks his lips. “Then let’s talk, dear.”

You gulp, feeling the air become thicker and warmer as the heavy aroma of musk and leaves wafts about.

@mel-vaz

[lilisouless]

One ends up with Kaz getting roasted,the other with Wylan getting roasted but won’t say which cause we are all biased towards Kaz roasting

[booksndpoetry]

The Tortoise and The Hare

m.list

A/N: Something I wrote while listening to the Stray Kids song, 'The Tortoise and the Hare' and wanted it to be sweet but now I don't know what this is.

WC: 292 words.

Characters: Seo Changbin X Gender-Neutral Reader

Genre: Fluff, Humour

Warnings/Triggers: None I can think of- Oh! Changbin's biceps.

You squint and glare at your boyfriend, from your seat across the living room, both from being interrupted from reading a really good fic, and the fact that he basically roasted you after referring to you as the hare from the popular story. 

“You know”, Changbin begins, “If we were animals, you’d be a hare, and I’d be a tortoise.” 

“Please elaborate.” You give him a sickly-sweet smile while crumpling the empty paper cup you had just finished drinking from. Aggressively, to make sure he hears it.  

“Looking at it, you’re always chasing words and running so fast. Sometimes you run so fast I almost feel like I might lose you out of my sight. But, I’m a tortoise. And I’m nothing if not a winner. I will always be there to catch you. The world is round, isn’t it?”

“I can’t believe you just said something so sweet and here I was ready to throw hands with you”, you offer him a grin and saunter up to him to feel his arms. They feel nice. Amazing actually. 

“Sometimes, I think you spend time with me just for my arms.” He rolls his eyes. 

“Wait, only sometimes? You should know me better than that. I always spend time with you just for your arms.”

He shoves you off him like you’re nothing but a stick, and you fall from the couch. His eyes widen, and he immediately scrambles towards the door, holding it in front of him like a shield. You slowly stalk towards him, and he bolts out the door. Maybe you really were a hare, and he was about to be your prey.

“Hares are herbivores, right? Please don’t kill me.” Changbin yells, even as he runs farther from you. 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

© booksndpoetry 2024. All rights reserved. Please do not plagiarise, translate, repost or steal my works in any way. All idols used in this piece are just inspiration for characters. They do not reflect the real people in any way.

[luveline]

maybe grumpy!r with zombie!au jonathon ? totally fine if this doesn’t work haha have a good day <3

tysm ♡

The river kisses the rubber toes of your shoes, rushing water loud over stone. If Jonathan knew you were sitting by the river defenceless he'd worry in his way, sweetness first and annoyance second.

But Jonathan won't know, you decide, tracing the silky blue water until it turns to froth. 

It's not his fault, not Will's, not any of your group's fault that you resent your life with so much passion, and so you try to leave them alone when you know you'll lash out. Will says your sullen, Jon just says you're tired, but it's Hopper who hits the nail on the head, every time. 

"You're a grump, kid. Old man in a young girl's body."

You're not sure about young —you feel like living to this age is impressive enough in the circumstances— but you agree to being thought grumpy. You're kind of awful, actually. 

"How many times do I have to tell you?" 

You jump at Jonathan's voice at your shoulder and almost smack your skulls together. "How many times do I have to tell you?" you ask, glaring at his easy smile. "Don't fucking sneak up on me." 

"Don't sit by the river alone. Idiot. It's too loud, you'd never hear a geek coming up behind you and then I'd have to put you out of your misery, and how is that fair? I don't want to kill you. Will would never forgive me." 

"That's your reason?" 

"Sure is. I got you this." 

A hand thrust in front of you, a flower twirled by the stem. You're not sure what kind it is or where he got it, but it's tall and strong, petals all shades of purple. You accept it with tender fingers. It feels foreign to see something as starkly beautiful as his clean flower between all the gore and grit of your life on foot. 

"Thank you," you murmur. 

"Anything for me?" 

Jonathan looks at you head on. Christ, he's handsome. He doesn't seem to think so, but it's in his smile, and the way he talks, the easy roll of his shoulders now and his more timid moments, too. It's in his laugh, his eyes. 

You huff in annoyance and kiss him. 

"Don't be like that," he says against your lips, punctuating with two quick kisses. 

"I'm not being like anything."

"Don't kiss me if you don't want to," he says, his fingers wrapped around your wrist. You love his touch, the firm, almost rough brunt of his thumb against your pulse and his forehead as it rests on your shoulder. "It's fine. I'll just die miserable." 

"You're not funny," you say, staring at the top of his head. 

"You're not, either, but I usually laugh." Jonathan stops his teasing, his voice shining with sincerity as his lips skip over your sleeve. "Are you okay? I was worried about you. I am worried about you." 

You look down at your flower, a perfect little gift. It staves away the dirty feeling that lingers on your skin. 

"Do you think I could press this? Keep it forever?" you ask. 

Jonathan sits up, spinning away from you so you're staring in opposite directions, hip to hip. "Yeah, you can. You just need a little tissue paper. But if it doesn't work, I'll find you another one." 

"What if it's winter?" 

"I'll find you something else." 

"I want something pretty as this," you warn. 

"Then I'll find you a mirror." It's awful because he's not joking. 

You take his hand and put it on your thigh to watch his cheeks turn pink. The river roars, the smell of roasted frogs and hare drifts along the breeze, and Jonathan Byers can't look at you. He's all talk. 

"Thanks, Jon," you murmur, rubbing his knuckles. 

He coughs. "You're welcome." 

[whencyclopedia]

The Nerge: Hunting in the Mongol Empire

The peoples of the Mongol Empire (1206-1368 CE) were nomadic, and they relied on hunting wild game as a valuable source of protein. The Asian steppe is a desolate, windy, and often bitterly cold environment, but for those Mongols with sufficient skills at riding and simultaneously using a bow, there were wild animals to be caught to supplement their largely dairy-based diet. Over time, hunting and falconry became important cultural activities and great hunts were organised whenever there were major clan gatherings and important celebrations. These hunts involved all of the tribe mobilising across vast areas of steppe to corner game into a specific area, a technique known as the nerge. The skills and strategies used during the nerge were often repeated with great success by Mongol cavalry on the battlefield across Asia and in Eastern Europe.

Hunted Animals

The Mongols, like other nomadic peoples of the Asian steppe, relied on milk from their livestock for food and drink, making cheese, yoghurt, dried curds and fermented drinks. The animals they herded - sheep, goats, oxen, camels and yaks - were generally too precious as a regular source of wool and milk to kill for meat and so protein was acquired through hunting, essentially any wild animal that moved. Animals hunted in the medieval period included hares, deer, antelopes, wild boars, wild oxen, marmots, wolves, foxes, rabbits, wild asses, Siberian tigers, lions, and many wild birds, including swans and cranes (using snares and falconry). Meat was especially in demand when great feasts were held to celebrate tribal occasions and political events such as the election of a new khan or Mongol ruler.

A basic division of labour was that women did the cooking and men did the hunting. Meat was typically boiled and more rarely roasted and then added to soups and stews. Dried meat (si'usun) was an especially useful staple for travellers and roaming Mongol warriors. In the harsh steppe environment, nothing was wasted and even the marrow of animal bones was eaten with the leftovers then boiled in a broth to which curd or millet was added. Animal sinews were used in tools and fat was used to waterproof items like tents and saddles.

The Mongols considered eating certain parts of those wild animals which were thought to have potent spirits such as wolves and even marmots a help with certain ailments. Bear paws, for example, were thought to help increase one's resistance to cold temperatures. Such concoctions as powdered tiger bone dissolved in liquor, which is attributed all sorts of benefits for the body, is still a popular medicinal drink today in parts of East Asia.

Besides food and medicine, game animals were also a source of material for clothing. A bit of wolf or snow leopard fur trim to an ordinary robe indicated the wearer was a member of the tribal elite. Fur-lined jackets, trousers, and boots were a welcome insulator against the bitter steppe winters, too.

Continue reading...

[the-eyes-special-boy]

paul gets a cat and names it stilgar and will only consult the cat. not actual stilgar.

paul: what should I have for dinner?

cat stilgar: meow

paul: yeah roast dessert hare does sound good right about now.

actual stilgar: this is just stupid now

chani: let the cat speak

[littlefaefeather]

Black Butler manga foods/drinks

I'm sure I missed some things, but it was all things that weren't really named or specified, or I couldn't tell with certainty what they were. @sebastian-ciel-mutual-bullying this is for you! feel free to take and use as you need o7 Book 1 breakfast: poached salmon and mint salad with toast, scones, and pain de campagne on the sides, ceylon tea horribly salty lemonade dinner: Japanese green tea, gyuutatakidon, Italian red wine, apricot and green tea mille-feuille dessert: orchard fruit cake with pears, plums, and blackberries dessert: deep-dish apple raisin pie milk

Book 2 assam tea afternoon tea: keemun and summer pudding of currants and other berries lunch: stuffed cabbage and minted potato salad chocolate earl grey afternoon tea: cornmeal cake of pears and blackberries salty rosehip herbal tea

Book 3 hot milk with honey or brandy peeled apple assam tea with milk oranges with shalimar tea steak and kidney pie and salmon sandwiches messy birthday cake and donburi strawberry-decorated birthday cake

Book 4 fish chai with ginger breakfast: shrimp curry and French toast with ginger mackerel with gooseberry sauce and cottage pie

Book 5 British-style Bengali chicken curry chicken curry afternoon snack: gateau au chocolat beef curry blue lobster with seven curries curry bun assam tea white darjeeling tea champagne sushi

Book 6 Christmas pudding cookies shaped like bones fish and chips, meat pies, bread

Book 7 rice porridge dinner: milk risotto with a three-mushroom medley, a pot-au-feu of pork and wine, and a warm apple compote with yogurt sauce

Book 8 oranges afternoon tea: chocolate macarons with fruits and three-berry shortcake

Book 9 custard cream puffs red wine white wine brunch: herring pie and spinach quiche dinner: curry, and chopped vegetables for an appetizer

Book 10 dinner: soybean hamburg steaks

Book 11 elevenses: darjeeling tea and petits fours tonkatsu, shougayaki, tonjiru, tonshabu, yakiton

Book 12 cake with strawberries on top

Book 13 spiny lobster saute, roast turkey, sticky toffee pudding, fairy cakes (cupcakes) warm milk with honey

Book 14 watered-down darjeeling tea darjeeling tea dinner: roast duck and gateau chocolat

Book 15 golden syrup sponge pudding tea cakes lemon myrtle souffle glace with milk tea

Book 16 lunch: beef mince pie

Book 17 dessert: strawberries, cream, and meringue (Eton mess) with a side of iced summer pudding

Book 18 chicken pie coffee and walnut cake

Book 19 ravioli (maultaschen) and wurst soup, stewed pork with herbs and spices (eisbein), and rote grutze (sour berries boiled and chilled to jelly, served with cream) evening snack: caramel macarons, coffee cream eclairs, dark chocolate florentines. black tea ceylon tea

Book 22 earl grey tea with orange almond cake and berry tarts

Book 23 smoked salmon sandesh (milk sweets)

Book 24 soft licorice candy apples

Book 25 berry-filled pudding fish and chips and steak and ale pie gulab jamun (fried balls of dough drenched in syrup)

Book 29 kidney pie, fish and chips, and ale wild-hare pie tapioca steak

Book 30 nilgiri tea breakfast: pea soup, meatballs, croissants, boiled egg, orange jelly chicken and steamed vegetable salad, oxtail stew, pain de campagne with butter oolong tea

Book 31 candy cigarettes