Apprehensive_Acorn
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Recent works
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A confusion so thick you forget forgetting by Apprehensive_Acorn
Fandoms: Cult of the Lamb (Video Game)
02 Jul 2026
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Summary
Her name is Yngya, that she is aware of.
She is a lamb. Her nails are black, blunt, and thick. Her hooves click when she walks over stone, as do the hooves of others she is familiar with, the synonymous members of her flock.
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Consequences are not the sort of thing that melts.
Yngya's memories are as clouds; forever perpetually transient.
But she will always feel like she's failed somehow.
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Kris has a hand on the page—holding it steady with a familiarity they do not recognize in themself—and the other wrapped around a red, red pen the soul had scrounged around the house for the moment it'd realized itself in their body.
The first thing the soul does to Kris is force them to draw.
Clean, swooping, elegant lines. Slowly, they begin to recognize its shape.
A red, red rose.
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The Soul has an obsession.
Unfortunately for Kris, they have one too now.
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Eventually, they tire themselves out, flopping down into a shaded corner together, piled on top of each other like leaves, grooming each other's fur messily.
It's a moment after Squirrelkit nearly chokes on Marigoldkit's long, draping fur that Thistlekit raises, "y'think we could sneak out?"
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Four kits escape camp, just to be found safe and sound in a patch of alliums.
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Miracles are Often Inconvenient by Apprehensive_Acorn
Fandoms: Cult of the Lamb (Video Game)
29 Jun 2026
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In Darkwood, they collapse.
Their breathing is slow and rationed. Their chest is heavy, like their heart is deadened or—even worse—a ticking metal apparatus, thumping its long, drawn out last, right beneath their fingertips.
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5 times the Lamb mourns themself + 1 time the Lamb mourns who they could have been
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You are a small and sought after creature, awash in a world of color that does not care for the amount of red you can make for it. You are pressing your palms to your wounded flesh and you are breathing softly, steadily, in puffs of air and all manner of things that make you overheat, tasting blood, feeling thirsty.
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Before the Lamb was caught, they were hunted.
Series
Recent series
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Acorn's Seasonal Skirmish: Seasoning Skirmish Works by Apprehensive_Acorn
Fandom Cult of the Lamb (Video Game), Dandy's World (Roblox), Deltarune (Video Game), Naruto (Anime & Manga), Original Work, The Legend of Zelda: Breath of the Wild/Tears of the Kingdom, Unspecified Fandom, Vita Carnis (Web Series), Warriors - Erin Hunter
02 Jul 2026
Summary
For the Seasonal Skirmish Discord Server’s Seasoning Skirmish Writing Event !!!
Team: Lemon Lunchroom 🍋🍋
- Words:
- 17,298
- Works:
- 11
- Bookmarks:
- 2
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- Words:
- 22,840
- Works:
- 2
- Bookmarks:
- 2
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Full Pockets | Personal Writing Challenge by Apprehensive_Acorn
Fandom Cult of the Lamb (Video Game)
26 Feb 2026
Summary
My love letter to the Cult of the Lamb flavor text <3
- Words:
- 10,609
- Works:
- 3
- Bookmarks:
- 1
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- Words:
- 9,551
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- 4
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My Frieren: Beyond Journey’s End Works by Apprehensive_Acorn
Fandom 葬送のフリーレン | Sousou no Frieren | Frieren: Beyond Journey's End (Anime), 葬送のフリーレン | Sousou no Frieren | Frieren: Beyond Journey's End (Manga)
11 Feb 2024
Summary
All of my Frieren: Beyond Journey’s End fics in the same series. If you want updates on fics for the Frieren: Beyond Journey’s End fandom but don’t wanna touch any other fandom of mine, subscribe to this series instead of my profile!
- Words:
- 5,728
- Works:
- 4
- Bookmarks:
- 10
Recent bookmarks
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“Madara,” Hashirama says, placatingly, “If I let you go, will you try to kill me?”
“Yes.”
It is said with zero hesitation. Hashirama sighs. Well, at least he knows where they stand.
“Will you kill me,” he poses, reasonably, “If I touch you?”
“Nghh.” Madara convulses around another wave of cramps, and he grits out, “I'd kill you—if you didn't.”
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Madara has massacred his way through his attempted kidnappers, but not without getting dosed with heat inducers. Slightly panicked and way out of his depth, Hashirama helps.Bookmarked by Apprehensive_Acorn
06 Jul 2026
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“Hashirama,” Madara groans, eyes creasing shut. One palm slips to Hashirama’s chest, pressing intently. “Get off, I need to piss,” he mutters.
Hashirama hums, to conceal his delight. He does not pause, despite how Madara's thighs cling even harder to his sides—Hashirama rolls his hips, pressing Madara into the futon. “Can't hold it?” he teases, lips by Madara’s ear.
Bookmarked by Apprehensive_Acorn
06 Jul 2026
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The line between safety and danger blurs just so and makes each touch a scalding brand, marks the weight and scent of Madara to be as much a boon as a peril. He could tear out my throat, Tobirama thinks, quaking in fear. He’s breeding me, he thinks, and shakes, awash with pleasure. At any rate it's too late to do a thing. Tobirama sealed his own fate the moment he stepped uninvited through that door.
Your funeral. Well, as far as caskets go, this one’s pretty plush.
Bookmarked by Apprehensive_Acorn
06 Jul 2026
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Shine on forever
Shine on benevolent sun
Shine down upon the severed
Shine until the two become oneSeries
- Part 1 of one as in the other
Bookmarked by Apprehensive_Acorn
06 Jul 2026
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He couldn't treat a wife like this, Madara thinks, cruelly—cruel to whom, he isn't sure. But there's vitriol in the thought, venom, and triumph. Only he contends. Only he dares.
His body hurts in almost too many places to count. His limbs are sore from their fight, his jaw kills, he aches deep inside, where he's split open, driven into again and again. Piss leaves a bitter aftertaste in his molars. And Madara couldn't be happier.
Bookmarked by Apprehensive_Acorn
06 Jul 2026