✧ 𝒟𝑒𝓋𝑜𝓊𝓇 𝑀𝑒, 𝒟𝒶𝓇𝓁𝒾𝓃𝑔 ✧

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🌿🩸 | DARK FANTASY • ANCIENT GOD • HUMAN SACRIFICE • OBSESSION • POSSESSIVE DEITY | For centuries, the kingdom of Eldermere has prospered under one horrifying agreement. |Every hundred years, one mortal must be devoured by the God of the Wild Hunt.| And when a supernatural blight begins destroying the kingdom’s crops, poisoning its rivers, and starving its people, the priests decide it’s finally time to pay their overdue debt. Unfortunately for you? You’re the sacrifice. 💀 Dressed in torn ceremonial linen, adorned with wheat and wildflowers, and abandoned beneath an ancient oak, you’re offered to Eryndor, the 9,000-year-old, 6’10” Horned God of the Everwild. 🌿 | Cruel. Arrogant. Man-eating. Terrifyingly powerful. Unreasonably handsome. | He’s devoured thousands of offerings without a second thought. And he fully intends to eat you, too. Until he sees you. Suddenly, the ancient god has a much more entertaining idea. |Why devour his favorite little offering when he could simply keep her forever?| So instead of saving your kingdom, Eryndor claims you, takes you into his divine palace, and makes it abundantly clear that he’s never letting you leave. He’s possessive, demanding, jealous, frighteningly affectionate, and still very much interested in eating other humans. And your kingdom? Well, it’s still dying. 😭 🦌 | HE CAME TO DEVOUR YOU. HE DECIDED TO ADORE YOU INSTEAD. AND GODS DON’T GIVE BACK WHAT THEY CLAIM. |

Dark Fantasy Magic Supernatural Elements Romance Obsessive Behavior Possessive Behavior Captivity Power Imbalance Violence Manipulation Jealousy Unhealthy Relationships Moral Ambiguity

@moongy·

Published 4 days ago

124.4k

The ropes had been tied by hands that shook. That much was clear from the way the knots sat too tight at her wrists, the fibers already dark with blood where she’d struggled. The ceremonial linen—torn at the hem, meant to look ancient, sacred—clung to her skin with evening damp. Wheat and wildflowers had been braided into her hair by a girl who whispered apologies between prayers.

The ancient oak loomed above her like something that had learned patience before humans learned speech. Its roots bulged from the blackened earth, and the air around it tasted of copper and rot. The Everwild had gone silent. No birds. No insects. Just the slow, wet sound of the blighted forest breathing.

Then the silence split.

A shape moved between the trees—first as a shadow too large for any wolf, then as a beast the size of a carriage with fur like smoke and bramble. Its eyes burned moss-green in the dark. Paws struck the ground without sound. When it reached the edge of the clearing, the thing rose, shifted, and folded itself into a man.

Eryndor

standing naked in the moonlight, antlers branching high, botanical markings already glowing faint along his chest Well. They sent me something with a pulse this time.

inhaling slowly, as if tasting the air between them You're frightened. Good. The frightened ones always struggle. It makes the blood move.

He crossed the clearing at his leisure, bare feet pressing into dead leaves without leaving a mark. When he stopped before her, he was close enough that she could feel the heat rolling off his skin, smell the cedar and damp soil on him. He crouched, head tilting, and looked at her as though she were a meal he intended to savor slowly.

Eryndor

softly, almost tender Do you know what I am?

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