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dearestaeneas · 25 days

Text

Bite

You’re hungry.

It’s okay. You’ve been hungry before.

You’ll be hungry again.

It won’t last long. You know that much.

It’s cool today. There’s a breeze that doesn’t bite so much as nibble. That won’t last long, either. In just a few short hours, that coolness will turn to something not too unlike frost. There’s rain coming tonight.

There’s rain coming tonight, and you’re hungry.

All in all, not the worst situation to be in.

So you prowl. The underbrush doesn’t so much as crunch under the pads of your feet. You move as a mountain, the muscles in your shoulders flexing with each step. You hear the distant sound of hooves: twigs snap, leaves rustle, branches bend. They’d be scared of you, if they knew what that shape so far from them really was.

You don’t know why, though. You’re of no threat to them. Sure, sometimes you’re desperate. Who isn’t? That’s not your fault. To an outsider, this distinction wouldn’t be large enough to matter, but you know, and the deer know. It’s different.

Your stomach growls, a rumble that your throat replicates. You cannot mask your hunger, but you can at least remind the world that your hunger is a threat. It is too bright out, despite the canopy of trees above your head and the gray sky above that.

Leaves brush against your back. If you’re moving, they’ll see you. Best to lay for a while. They fear you in a way the deer do not. Perhaps it has to do with the deer sharing your home. They’re family, in a way.

This is close enough, you think to yourself. The earth bends here for you, under your weight. Your nose runs parallel to your legs, and you let out a humph! of a sigh as you wait.

As you sleep, the world begins to darken. It is not customary to sleep so in the open, but who will challenge you? Who will attempt to teach you a lesson for this deviancy?

You snored, although you did not know it. It was a deep and rumbling tone, more a feeling than a sound. They heard it for miles. You shook the world. As far as anyone could tell, you were the world.

The rain woke you, and how dare it. Droplets spattered on your nose. You yawned then, great jaws extending wider and wider. The sneeze that follows after you lick your lips surprises even you as you stand suddenly against unseen predators. There are no predators, of course. There never are.

There never will be.

Your tail wags as you lay down, and it thumps against the ground, reverberating through the trees. If there were any birds left in the trees after your sneeze, they were gone now.

You don’t mind the waiting. Even with the pain in your stomach, you’re still home. You’re comfortable and safe and soon, will be fed.

You hear them before you see them, obviously. Their feet stomp along the trail, which had been pounded into the earth by so many before them. Of course, some simply had to make it through, otherwise the trail wouldn’t be such a viable source. They’re bickering, as they often are at this hour. You smile. Your great tongue hangs from your mouth. Your breathing is louder then, but beneath the rain and the other sounds of the forest, who would really notice it?

“I told you the rain was going to start sooner than you thought,” one of them says.

“It’s not coming down too hard yet,” the other replies sheepishly. “And we’re too far to turn back now.”

You don’t understand what these words mean. You’ve heard conversations that sounded similar enough before, and all of those had been just as inconsequential as this one.

They do not see your massive form for what it is, and how could they? You tower, creating a hill of your own. The canopy will always protect you, but few will ever come as close to you when they stand and look to the heavens.

“It’s not even dark yet,” the sheep says.

“The trees are getting thicker,” comes the uneasy reply.

You stretch. Your paws snap a sapling some feet away with their weight.

Frozen silence.

Minutes pass. This moment alone is so delicious it nearly fills your stomach.

Then, one set of quick steps. “I want to go home,” the voice says. It already sounds a little farther away.

“You’re being dramatic,” is the annoyed response.

“You said we had about a mile and a half, right? I’m not taking this at a leisurely pace anymore.”

“I’m not going any faster.”

“Then get home alone.”

It is a rare joy when they separate. You don’t mind chasing after one, you don’t even mind losing one.

You study the movement of the bodies before you. The gap between them extends wider and wider.

You sniff. By now you have stopped smiling, eyes keenly following the furthest body. Its pace has accelerated greatly, and it periodically calls back: “Hurry up!”

The other body is slow, strolling as a tourist. “You’re afraid of everything!”

If they were to run, as the first body now is, they would cover the nearly two mile trek in about 20 minutes. It would not take you even a fraction of that. But the second body does not follow the first’s example.

The first body is now too far for the second to hear its calls, but you can hear them. They are more of the same. The feet never stop pounding.

You stand then. The landscape shifts with your form, and the lowest branches of the trees above you shift at the touch of your back. The body hesitates at this sound. Although the sapling had sounded much like a distant shot from a hunter’s gun, this disturbance resembled something creaking, something ancient.

“Hello?” They sound so small. Why have they stopped moving? The rain is still somewhat light, pattering gently. They are mostly protected from the elements, though the remaining light is fading fast. If they were to look, they would only see a shadow’s shadow, although there would likely be an acute awareness that the hill that had been beside their path for so long was now gone.

It wasn’t fun when it was too easy.

Your stomach grumbles as if in response. You had debated how best to remind the body before you that they were not home, and your own body had answered. The sheep gasped, and there was a panting that followed as their gait increased. They were slow. Their breathing sounded pained, their anxiety rising at a disproportionate rate and slowing the rest of their body.

You watch with curiosity. They move as if injured. You pad along beside them in silence. Eventually their breathing evens. Their pace remains somewhat faster, although it appears something in them has calmed. They are humming, quietly.

Several moments pass before you step closer to the trail. You inch your way toward them, some paces behind, until only a thin layer of forest separates you from the body.

Their eyes are forward, and as alert as they could be in the darkness. Eventually you will break the wall of greenery that separates you. The body is visibly on edge, aware of you without admitting it to itself.

Until it stops.

“Please make it quick,” the body says. Its voice is even, although quiet.

You stop. A puff of an exhale escapes your nostrils. The body had heard.

This is better than you could have imagined. You sit then, almost expectant. Your eyes are bright and intelligent, yellow in the darkness.

The body steps closer to the woods.

Your tail begins to wag, and it swishes in the forest behind you. Twigs and fallen leaves swirl. The wagging increases in intensity until the body freezes. The delight coursing through your massive body is unparalleled.

The body steps away from the forest. You can no longer contain yourself.

You step slowly onto the trail behind the body. Your massive paws straddle it. The body stares up at you, eyes wide and face pale. You slowly tilt your head down, nose only a foot or two away. They do not move.

You begin to sniff them, taking in the sweat and fear their body releases. Perhaps they are comforted by this. They slowly reach a shaking hand up, and you lower further to meet the distance. The tiny palm touches your cold, wet nose.

The body lets out something like a laugh, lets out something like relief and something not too far from hesitant joy.

You bite.

The body screams, clutching at its mangled arm with its only full one. The blood drips onto the soil. It begins to run, and you sit.

You are patient. You chew thoughtfully, though you barely chew at all. All the while your tail wags.

The body stumbles away in a sprint, emitting a hoarse screaming sob.

By now the second body is nearly gone from the wood, if not completely free. You follow, trying to appear as if you were giving chase. The body looks over the shoulder of its injured arm and sees you follow, sees the way your tongue hangs from your open mouth, hears your tail slam against trunk after trunk.

If you had been smaller, they might have had more appreciation for how beautiful the scene they witnessed was.

There is beauty in everything. There is beauty in your teeth, in your fur, in the way blood drips like rubies from your jaws.

There is beauty in the body’s eyes, the way the little brown dots appear so small in a sea of white. There is beauty in the way the body twists to cradle itself.

Your jaws snap at the body a second time, failing to tear the meat once more. This is on purpose. A wetness blossoms from the shoulder, accompanied by another cry.

The meat is stumbling now, feet catching on one another until finally it falls. There is a sticky trail behind it that your paws have passed through. The fur between your paw pads is matted with it.

It cries. It twists to face you. You are confused by this: so often does meat turn from you, so often does it refuse to face the beauty of nature.

Like the deer, perhaps this meat understands that the act itself is not borne of malice or hatred.

Do you feel a pang of regret for taunting it so?

No. Nature plays games. To play is to live is to eat.

You are quick with your meal. That, at least, is a conscious decision.

You have taken it back into the depths of the woods, and once finished, you lick your paws.

It is fully dark now.

The pain in your stomach has finally subsided.

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frenchfrywrites · 11 months

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Just saw your requests were open. Can you do headcanons for mammon and Solomon challenging them to hold their pee through a school day? >///< thank you!!! -woodsy

Mammon and Solomon holding throughout the day

MINORS DNI

Making Solomon n Mammon hold throughout the day

Mammon

Fucking cocky!!

Immediately accepts the challenge because it’ll be “easy-peasy lemon squeezey” (his words)

He forgot how small his bladder is

Also it doesn’t occur to him that this could be a kink thing until he gets that first pang at his bladder, and he looks to you for permission, and it hits him

Cue a very squirmy and blushy demon

People take notice of his new disposition but for his sake don’t say anything

He’s terrible at hiding how bad he has to go

Mammon will put his hands between his legs to press against his crotch, press his thighs tightly together, squirm, and bite his bottom lip

Denies how badly he has to go right up until the bell rings

Yanks you to the bathroom with him

He can barely get his pants off

In fact he has a 50/50 chance of wetting himself just before he gets to the toilet

Either way he’ll be holding onto you and whining and moaning up a storm

Solomon

He takes a moment to consider your demand

He immediately registers that this is a kink thing btw

He likes the sound of it so he takes you up on it

I think that Solomon has a very strong bladder

It probably doesn’t show that he has to go to the bathroom until the very last hours of the day

He holds onto his bladder, and starts to sweat

He’s also very flushed, because the pressure of holding makes him feel so hot and bothered

He especially loves that you’re watching him

At the end of the day he has some difficulty getting out of his chair and walking

He’ll need your support <3

In more ways than one hehe

When he’s finally able to let go he’ll want to lean on you

Take care of this old man!

His legs are all shaky and trembling the whole walk home. He can’t stop talking about how turned on he was by the whole experience

#spice #p/iss #sub obey me #brainrot #woodsy

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