#Dark Owl Publishing

[sytoran]

the excellence of misfortune | series masterlist

Moving into Westview to escape the demons that chase you, there you meet Wanda Maximoff, a married woman who's looking for the same kind of escapism. Where one seeks order and the other seeks thrill, maybe you can show each other a little neighbourly support, and perhaps, find the excellence of misfortune.

──── PAIRING. sub!milf!wanda x dark!player!reader

──── CONT. reader uses they/she, dark themes, cheating trope, smut, angst, unhealthy coping mechanisms, infidelity, age gap (reader is in early twenties and wanda is in late thirties), detailed warnings in each chapter | inspired by this and this

──── WARNING. this is a dark series that touches on mature themes. 18+

PART I / double-edged sword

Wanda Maximoff's marriage with her husband is not going too well. To add insult to injury, her new neighbour is pretty fuckin' hot.

── word count. 1.5k ── published. 09/05/2023

PART II / pretty woman

You receive a nice welcoming gift. Feelings you thought were long gone begin to surface.

── word count. 2.0k ── published. 12/05/2023

PART III / accidental or not

Westview happens to have a gay bar. You give it a visit.

── word count. 1.6k ── published. 20/05/2023

PART IV / fascinating consultancies

Wanda seeks help in Agatha to find a remedy to her situation.

── word count. 1.5k ── published. 25/05/2023

to be updated.

NOTE. all works, ideas, and wip updates relating to this series will be listed under the tag 'teom series'.

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© sytoran, 2023

[notthefirstfallenangel]

Memories I

Pairing: Simon 'Ghost' Riley x Fem!Reader

Warnings: angst, mention of injury, amnesia

Summary: You had your memory wiped after a messed-up mission. All that you remember is your childhood and fragmented glimpses of your teenage and adult years. Poor Simon, your would-be hubby, is left to pick up the pieces when you can't even recall his existence.

Words: 1.7k

A/N: I've had this story in the works for some time now, but only recently got around to finishing and publishing it. In that timeframe, I've seen some wonderful stories from other authors that share some similarities with mine. If you're one of those authors, please know I'm not trying to steal your ideas🤍 I hope you guys enjoy this piece and that it provides a unique perspective despite the possible similarities!

part 1 - part 2 - part 3 - part 4

The room was quiet, save for the rustle of leaves blowing through the windows to a slow rhythm, a song of the wind. It was not melodious or gentle. It was a dirge heralding the beginning of the storm. 

 The hospital room was clean but bare. There was no furniture, books, or colourful pillows, nothing to ease the quiet. All that was in here was a narrowed hospital bed, a small table beside it, and a chair.

The air was dried and sterile; it smelled of chemicals and a hint of decay that a hospital was always haunted by. 

Simon leaned against the doorframe, his powerful frame illuminated by a shaft of light from the hallway. He wore a tight black hoodie, dark blue jeans that hugged his thighs like a second skin, and black shoes. 

 Simon’s voice was low, velvet-like, and he looked directly into your eyes as he spoke, “Hey, sweetheart.”

You sat up in bed, wearing a hospital gown, no makeup, no jewellery. The only thing that popped out on you was the PICC on your left arm, a tape holding it in place with a trickle of blood that had soaked through. 

Your face was washed in the hospital’s flickering fluorescent light, and your eyes were cold and calculating, like an owl on the hunt. You didn’t say anything — you just watched Simon. 

 “How are you feeling?” his voice was a low rumble; his words were slow and measured.  

The chair cracked as he sat, the wood groaning in protest to hold his weight. 

 “Your wounds? Any pain?”

You blinked slowly but didn’t answer. Instead, you gazed at the ceiling, letting your eyes wander around the room. Your face was passive, your thoughts hidden.

Simon sighed. “I know you don’t want to talk.”

He waited for a reply, his breath holding as he stared into your eyes. The seconds seemed to drag on endlessly until he spoke again, his voice barely above a whisper. “But...can you remember anything yet?”

He held his breath once more, almost afraid of the answer.

His tone was quiet, but his eyes were like deep pools of emotion, begging for understanding even as he kept his expression neutral. The slight twitch of his cheek indicated a level of tension as if he was holding back an outpouring of feelings that had been brewing inside him for days.

It was something that he asked every day, with the same inflexion and the same intonation. As the two-week mark approached, you grow accustomed to the sound of Simon’s voice, the feel of his presence. For those brief moments each day he spends with you, it is just the two of you. But despite his daily visits, you didn’t recall a single thing beyond your name and childhood.

Your eyes trailed over his face, trying to make sense of it, wondering if it should ring any bells — but there was nothing... No memory, no feeling, no recognition, no nothing. It was as if a faceless, empty void was talking to you.

He watched your lips press together, forming a thin line and heard the resigned sigh that escaped you.

“I've told you: I’ll tell you if I remember something.”

The corners of his mouth twitched with a weak attempt at a smile.

“Right. Okay.”

Simon stayed still for what felt like an eternity, his weariness apparent as he stared at your face. He had been doing this for two weeks – visiting every day – and yet nothing changed.

A long quiet stretched between the two of you. He slouched in his seat, exhausted and angry. Days had passed since you emerged from the coma—and yet, you still couldn’t remember a thing.

“This must get dull,” he said after a moment. “Me coming here like this every day, asking the same questions over and over.”

You looked at him sadly, your hands fidgeting in your lap. His gaze was intense as he spoke, his words soft and full of longing.

“We met in Moscow on a cold winter evening. I remember it like it was yesterday. You had just come out of the Bolshoi Theatre; you were undercover as a baroness.”

Simon took your hand; the touch was warm and reassuring against your own, no matter how cold and distant you were towards him. He peeled back your sleeve to reveal the scar running down the length of your arm. “You got this wound that night, right here. You were caught in a crossfire.”

He waited for an answer, but all you could do was shake your head in sorrow.

With a disappointed sigh, you murmured, “No...I don’t remember.”

He spoke softly but sternly like he was disciplining a child. “Sweetheart,” he said slowly. His voice held just the right amount of disappointment and hint of authority — something you had become accustomed to over the past few weeks.

His words made your face instantly stern; your eyebrows knit together in a frown, and your nostrils flared.

“I told you, I don’t remember!” you barked at him. A strange combination of rage and grief welled up in your chest and spilt over into your voice as you shouted out the following words, “What am I supposed to do? I’m trying here!”

Your skin was flushed with emotion.

He exhaled slowly, leaning back in his chair. The more he tried to explain himself, the angrier you became.

“I’m sorry...” he murmured. “I just want you to remember what we had,” he spoke softly, “all those moments we shared. I know you’re doing your best...but it’s hard for both of us. Please, let me help.”

There was a faint look of hurt but also resignation in Simon’s eyes.

“You come here every day, asking me to remember, and it doesn’t help!” you said, your voice full of frustration and anger. “Do you think I like this? Do you think I like having forgotten years of my life?”

Your whole body was rigid with stress and tension. You were tired of the constant questioning as if you could simply choose to remember by the snap of a finger.

Simon flinched, the sharp rebuke a painful reminder that he can’t control the situation, and he can’t fix what he can’t understand.

You glared at each other, icy daggers slicing through the air. Your fury was palpable, and his sorrow so heavy it weighed on his shoulders like an invisible cloak. The air between you sizzled with tension, and both were waiting for the inevitable explosion that was about to come.

But then Simon took a deep breath. “You’re right. I’m sorry.”

You were a stranger to yourself. A stranger to your fiancé, your life, everything you once knew.

You used to look at him the way he would look at you, with pure and limitless love. But in that moment, you saw only fear and confusion in yourself. You looked at him and saw a stranger, a man you once loved but could not recognize.

He uttered your name in a whisper, almost afraid of what you would say. He reached out his hand, but as soon as his fingers grazed your arm, he felt you tense and recoil away. You had the same eyes as before, but it was like looking through a window into someone else’s life. Your eyes were wide with fear, your expression blank and unreadable—the only emotion present was anxiety. You grasped the sheets tightly, your knuckles turning white as you held onto them for dear life. He could sense that you were about to yell at him in frustration again.

The door opened, and a petite nurse in her forties stepped inside, alarmed by all the fuss. Her gaze was stern and commanding as she surveyed the room and all its medical equipment. As she drew near the bedside, her gaze softened. She placed one hand on your forehead in a soothing gesture. “Calm down, dear. You mustn’t upset yourself now,” she murmured. Then she turned to Simon, her gaze hardening once more. “Visiting time is over for you. It’s time to go now.”

” Just-,” he protested, trying to think of something to say that might convince the nurse to let him stay for a little while longer.

The nurse’s face was a mask of stern disapproval as she glared at him. Carefully consulting the chart, she stated in a tone that indicated this would not be questioned: “It is imperative for her health that she remain at rest and undisturbed.”

He reluctantly stood up, feeling as though he had been dismissed like an unwanted schoolboy sent home for misbehaving. He wanted to stay, to be there for you in whatever capacity he could, but he knew he had no choice but to obey the nurse’s command.

You looked away, your cheeks burning with shame. You felt the weight of your mistake as you tried to make sense of the situation.

He stayed still and silent for a moment before his lips brushed your forehead. “It’s okay,” he whispered, the warmth from his breath sending a chill down your spine. “I’ll be back tomorrow.”

He walks out slowly, his head down and his shoulders heavy. His thoughts were consumed with apologies he could never voice. 

As Simon’s footsteps faded away, you were surrounded by an oppressive silence. The beeping of the heart monitor seemed to get louder and louder. You wondered what time it was, how long until you could run from the room and the nurse, the needles and artificial lights and their cold. Your eyes darted around the cold, sterile room, taking in the harsh glare of fluorescent lighting and the unyielding machines with their wires and tubes that seemed to take up most of the space.

The muscles in your neck and shoulders tightened with anger as you realized how quickly your temper had gotten away from you, pushing away the one person who wanted to help you regain your memories. But it soon subsided, leaving you with nothing but a profound feeling of emptiness and helplessness. You let out a shaky breath, hating how small and powerless you felt.

“I wish I remembered,” you whispered.

[domesticandlovingmonsters]

Dark Fae Romance: Hezirus (Chapter 1)

The first chapter in the long awaited romance story with my Dark Fae character, Hezirus!

Your can read the Starter Chapter here, which will introduce you to the characters and give some context. This story was in the kiln for so long and has many bits to it. I got way too into the story and I absolutely will not apologize! I enjoyed it too much!

I hope you enjoy! Let me know what you think!

Chapter Words: 11k Warnings: a sfw starter. Notes: I do not give permission to anyone to repost, steal, copy, bind my stories. Also this is the Patreon Exclusive Freebie for you all to enjoy. You can read Chapter 2 on Patreon, which has just been published.

Your stomach growled loudly in the silence of the dungeon. Someone whimpered and the shadows chittered like a swarm of insects as they passed your door.

Daylight streamed into your cell through the small square hole in the wall of your room. And that’s where the servant found you. The moment the day winked against the stone, you sat in its brightness. Soaking in whatever warmth the cold morning air allowed.

You had no idea what time it was. But when the cell door opened, you were dizzily glad for the hot soup and bread that the owl woman placed by your feet.

“The prince wishes you to join him for a bath this morning.” The owl woman said as you dug into your breakfast. Your eyes widened as you swallowed.

“Is that an order?” You asked, a little more harshly than was probably needed. But you felt the giant round eyes regard you emotionlessly. As if your anger didn’t matter to her. It probably didn’t.

“I would assume so. Since you are his pet.”

“I’m not his pet.” You snapped, eating another spoonful of soup and buttered bread.

“Yes, you are.” The owl woman said. Her head then twisted to look behind her without moving her shoulders. Very much like how you’ve seen owls normally do. Her feathers puffed up for a second before she settled and turned her head back to you. Blinking slowly. “Would you prefer to be fed to Master Maahes? Because he is just down the hall waiting for me to leave the door open.”

Terror gripped you and you almost dropped your bowl. “W-What?”

“He can’t touch you while I am here. Since Prince Hezirus would punish him for breaking the rules. But if you do not wish to follow the orders given to you, I am allowed to threaten you to make you follow me. Master Maahes, I presume, is an adequate threat, is he not?”

You wanted to throw the soup. Maybe not at the owl because she is only doing her job. But at something. Did you risk getting rubbed down by the prince in a bath? Or thoroughly destroyed on the floor of a cell by a mountain of a man?

You grumbled and sighed. Finishing off the soup before handing the owl woman back the bowl. “Fine. Take me to the prince.”

“Excellent choice. Follow me.” The owl turned on her three toed feet and led the way out of the dungeons. You expected to see Maahes around every corner. But as you scaled more and more stairs, you felt like Maahes was no longer around. The owl woman looked calm as she hopped up each step. Her feathered hands gliding along the banister of the staircase as she walked.

You couldn’t stop staring at the way she literally jumped up every step. It was kind of adorable.

“What are you?” You asked. Unsure how to entirely word your enquiry without sounding rude. But the owl woman didn’t seem to mind. She kept walking as she answered.

“My name is Nola. I am Prince Hezirus’ head Steward of the estate.” Nola finally gave a reaction by her feathers puffing up proudly with the title. But it didn’t answer your question. And when you voiced this, Nola glanced at you with her own quizzical look. “What do you mean? I am Nola. Stewardess of the estate.”

You were unsure if Nola just didn’t understand the question. Or was not giving you the proper answer on purpose. You decided to leave it. Maybe even ask Hezirus if you needed something to talk about. “So…the prince asked to bathe with me?”

“He asked me to bring you to him while he bathed, yes.” Nola nodded. Her hopping gait shifted to a walk once the stairs leveled out onto flat ground.

“Why?” You asked.

“I would assume to bathe.” Was Nola’s response. And it was physically painful not to roll your eyes. Was this how all Fae creatures spoke, or just Nola? Another question you added to the list you were going to ask of the prince.

You gave up trying to make small talk and followed Nola to a beautiful set of wooden doors. Bronze and gold encrusted the carvings of a tree in autumn. And when Nola approached, the doors opened. Splitting the tree directly down the center.

Nola halted by the open doors and stepped to the side. Bowing her curved beak. “In you go. Call for me if you need an escort back to your cell.” Her tone was so sweet it didn’t at all fit the situation. And you stuttered a thank you as she turned on her clawed feet and hurried away.

You hesitantly stepped into the room beyond the entrance. And when your bare feet touched warm stone, the doors behind you swung closed. And your ears picked up a very soft click of a lock setting into place.

The room in front of you was as if you stepped into a forest oasis. A large pool of crystal clear water filled the majority of the large room, steaming in the early morning light. Moss circled the pool. Poking through rocks and twisted roots that acted as a natural border encircling the pond. The soft green flooring felt as soft as a cloud under your feet as you stepped closer to the water. Inspecting its depth, and finding that it was merely deep enough to come to your waist.

A harp was playing somewhere, filling the room with a soft lullaby-like melody. And cascading over the room was a ceiling made from the branches of a white tree. Golden leaves rustled in a cool breeze and small birds fluttered between the thick, pale branches. Sunlight streamed into the room through an open ceiling, giving the water a pale gold reflection.

“Over here, pet.” The prince’s smooth voice echoed softly through the room. You followed his voice over a path of moss, circling around a flowering hedge, acting as a barrier to shield the area beyond from the door. And there you found the prince by a tumbling waterfall. His long hair twisted up into a loose bun and his bare chest had a glistening sheen to it. His wings were soaked through. Sprawled heavily over the surface of the water as Hezirus dipped lower into the pool to wash off the soap from his shoulders.

“I see the dungeons didn’t dampen your light.” The prince hummed. Those bronze colored eyes traced heavily over your body as you moved closer. “Come join me. You reek of the lizard and the filthy cells.”

You could feel the warmth of the pool even from your position by the edge. The chill was still heavily set in your skin and the thought of a warm bath sounded heavenly. But the dress wasn’t designed for swimming. And you didn’t see any swimwear around to put on. Only plush towels and more plants. Even a cart full of food and beverages.

“Is there a problem, pet?” Hezirus’ tone made you snap your attention back to him. There was an undertone of impatience but his gaze was gentle, waiting for you to join him.

You sighed, feeling your cheeks burn with embarrassment. “I don’t have anything to wear.”

Hezirus chuckled. And he gestured to himself…all of himself…from the chiseled, flawless chest and down below the water where you could see his cock swinging freely in the water. “Neither do I. Strip. No one will see you.” The last few words were a tease. One that was carried on a smile that carved his beautiful face into something gorgeous.

It hadn’t been an order. But you felt the promise of one lingering on the edge of his words. You sighed and threw your pride and embarrassment aside, sliding the sleeves of the dress down your shoulders and then wriggling out of the tight material.

Hezirus’ gaze didn’t budge from you as you became bare in front of him. Raking down over your breasts and the curve of your hips. You ignored how he licked his lips when your core was left unclothed.

And his smile broadened when you quickly slipped into the pool. Hissing as the warm water bit at your frozen skin.

“There. Isn’t that better?” He asked, leaning back in the water so he was somewhat floating on the surface. Thankfully his hips were still below the water so you were graced with not seeing anything.

It was better. Much, much better. You sighed and let yourself sink until only your head was above water. Enjoying the sweet salvation that the warm waters brought. Your eyes even closed for a second, but they flew open when you felt a finger graze along your arm.

You jerked back. And Hezirus laughed, raising his hand as if showing you where they were. He was much closer than before. “My apologies. I couldn’t help but touch you. You look so soft.”

“Please,” You bit at the word, like it was a bad taste in your mouth. “Don’t touch me.”

“Or what? You’ll splash me? Get water in my hair?” Hezirus scoffed. But thankfully, moved back a step and his wings made a wave behind him as they shifted. “But as you wish. I won’t touch you until you say so.”

You raised an eyebrow, surprised there was no fight in the prince to get closer. “You’re awfully compilable for a fae.”

“And you’re awfully skittish for a woman who willingly jumped into a fairy circle.” Hezirus retorted. Lacing his fingers behind his head. His arms flexed as he rested his head against his palms. You looked away before your staring was noticed. And you half turned your body so you could start rubbing your hands over your body. Using the water to try and get some of the dirt and grime off your skin. There was a smell on you. It was unpleasant and you hoped it wasn’t something you had laid in while in the cell.

“Want me to scrub your back?” Hezirus asked as he floated nearer to the waterfall. His gaze still fixed on you as your palms brushed over your shoulders and sides.

You shot the prince a glare. Giving up trying to get your fingers to reach the area that you weren’t flexible enough to reach. “I don’t know, maybe you should just make me let you.”

Hezirus’ eye roll was followed with an exaggerated roll of his head, and a groan of irritation. “I merely made you drink water. It would have been more cruel of me to let you starve at that table.” Hezirus stood and made his way over to you. You had somehow moved away from him so much that your back hit the side of the pool. And Hezirus approached until he was directly in front of you. You don’t remember him being so tall. Towering over you with his wings creating a shadow around you. Like he was deliberately trying to crowd you.

A chill ran up your spine. Despite the warm water that surrounded you.

“And are you cruel?” You asked. Your voice felt too quiet against the racing pulse in your ears. Your heart pounded and you wanted nothing more than to avert your gaze from the fixing gaze of the prince..

“I can be if you want me too.” Hezirus said. Leaning so close that you could see flecks of gold in those pretty bronze eyes. “But you’d enjoy our time together less if I was. Now, do you want me to scrub your back?” He offered his hand out to you. Tilting his head in a way that a stray strand of brown hair tumbled from the bun.

You blinked and suddenly the shadows were gone and the Hezirus standing in front of you watched you with a gentle smile. Your heart calmed and you released the breath you didn’t know you were holding.

“O-Ok…but nothing cheeky. Just…Just my back.” You said. Forcing your eyes to narrow, despite the warning bells that were sounding in your head.

“Nothing cheeky.” Hezirus repeated. And he twirled his fingers, gesturing for you to turn and rest against the edge of the pool. Which you did. A little hesitantly. But you followed the unspoken order and laid your arms over the side of the pond. The moss was cool under your heated skin and the rock that was pressed against your stomach felt rough against your skin. But you forced yourself to relax. Holding back the flinch that attempted to jerk you away from the hands that brushed along your spine.

Hezirus was gentle. His fingertips felt like the ghost of a breeze against your skin. And as his palm pressed against your back, you felt a weird sensation spread over your skin.

“It’s just soap.” Hezirus explained as you tried to look at what was in his hands. The prince titled his hand up so you could sniff the substance. A simple white bar of soap that smelled strongly of honey and…some other sweet scent. “It’s made from the sap of a tree that grows only in the groves of my estate.” The prince explained when he saw your quizzical look. “When in its natural state, it can burn through fabric and sting the skin. But refine it and it is better than any moisturizer I know. And the smell is one of my favorite scents.”

You couldn’t help but laugh a little. Of course he would lather you up in a smell he liked. “It’s not going to affect me differently?” You asked. “You know, because I’m human?”

“I’m going off the assumption that if any of the people in these lands can use it, humans can as well.” Hezirus replied. When one hand circled your skin with soap, sudsing the entirety of your back in white bubbles, the other massaged and kneaded. You felt the tension in your spine release and even a knot in your shoulder give way under the prince’s touch.

But as you asked, his hands never went any further than your back. Perhaps teasing your sides and dipped under your lower back. But they never found purchase or strayed for too long.

Eventually, you were so relaxed that you laid your head on your arms. Your eyes half closed as you lost yourself to the gentle pampering. Hezirus’ hands cupped water over your back to wash away the soap before returning to spread another layer of bubbles.

At some point, you knew this was going on for longer than it needed to. But it wasn’t until the prince huffed irritably that you sat up and turned to look at him.

“What’s wrong?” You asked. Your voice almost slurred, you were so relaxed.

“Unless you allow me to wash the rest of you, the smell is going to stay.” Hezirus sighed. Pouting as he looked you over. “Let me wash the rest of you.”

“Absolutely not.” You said. Feeling more alert now you were standing again. “I said nothing cheeky.”

A grimace flashed over Hezirus’ expression but before you could properly assume his reaction, it was replaced by a look of exasperation. “I won’t do anything cheeky. I just want you to stop smelling like Maahes.”

You crossed your arms over your bare breasts and shook your head. “Either you let me do it or I’ll stay smelling like your friend.” You opened your palm for him and wiggled your fingers.

The prince scoffed, as if you had offended him. But curled his lips in a distasteful grunt and slapped the soap into your waiting hand. “Fine. Be quick about it.”

You smiled and nodded. And immediately started to run the bar along your arms and across your chest. Then turned your body around so Hezirus’ gaze didn’t leave heat marks on your breasts as the bubbles started to form over your nipples. He laughed but said and did nothing about it.

You washed yourself twice. Once apparently wasn’t enough for Hezirus. “You’re not washing yourself correctly. Just let me do it.”

You moved away when he tried to take the soap from you. You saw anger flash in his eyes but thankfully Hezirus’ words remained free of an order. “Gods, you’re stubborn.” He snapped.

After some time, the prince seemed satisfied enough that he allowed you to relax again in the pool. But your floating around and exploring the gardens circling the water was soon cut short.

Hezirus left the bath with a cascade of water following him from his wings. He dragged what seemed like half the pond out onto the moss covered ground as he walked over to the rack of towels and grabbed a large plush one.

Your eyes must have strayed for a touch too long because he turned sharply, catching you staring at the muscles of his back stretch and flex with every twitch of his feathered limbs.

“Beautiful aren’t they?” Hezirus said, smiling when your eyes darted to the ground. But you then looked back up at him as he stretched out the left wing to its full extent. Even when wet, the feathers gleamed in the bright sunlight that streamed through the yellow leaves. Flecks of gold twinkled like stars throughout the deep brown tone of his feathers.

Yes, they were beautiful. He was beautiful. In a way that seems unnaturally so. But you placed that uneasiness that came from looking at him for too long down to his nature. A Fae. Or at least a creature your mind was perceiving as a threat.

Something in you still screamed at you to run and hide. And those voices heightened when Hezirus lowered his wing, turning to you with one of his beautiful smirks. “Dry them for me.” He said, the tone bordering a command but the order didn’t stick. You could tell he was leaving it as a suggestion, so the magic didn’t take hold of you.

You glared at him, but found yourself moving through the water towards him as he wrapped the towel around his waist before fully turning to you. “You could say please.” You mumbled. Heaving your relaxed body out of the pool to join Hezirus by the towel rack.

“I prefer to hear ‘please’ in other contexts.” Hezirus replied. Shifting through various jars of leaves and ground powder on one of the carts before finding what he wanted and scooped a small teaspoon of it into a cup. “It would sound better on your lips, anyway.”

You stared at him. Your mind stumbled as you tried to come up with a retort, but ultimately failed to do so. Your thoughts are too flustered to find something coherent to say back. Hezirus didn’t seem to notice. He poured steaming hot water from a porcelain kettle into a cup and stirred the contents. The clear liquid turned brown and the scent of strong tea filled your nose.

“Grab a towel and start drying. Be sure not to crinkle a single feather.” Hezirus said. Sipping on the scalding hot drink. Smacking his lips and turning back to the cart to place a sugar cube into the cup. “And please, feel free to get cheeky.”

Your cheeks burned but you nodded. Sensing the threat behind the ‘suggestion’ if you didn’t do as you were told right away. Grabbing two plush towels from the rack, you wrapped one around your body and made sure it was secure enough that it wouldn’t fall while you were moving. And then moved up behind Hezirus as he flexed and his wings fanned open. Water dripped from the tips of each feather. But the moss soaked up the escaping liquid. Leaving your feet only damp against the soft ground, rather than standing in a puddle of water.

You looked up at the lord’s wings and pouted a little. There was so much real estate to dry. You would probably go through ten towels before he was dry.

“A problem?” Hezirus asked. Tilting his head so he could glance at you over his shoulder.

“I’m just trying to figure out where to start.” You told him, somewhat truthfully. You were also fighting the urge to reach out and touch his wings.

“My servants usually begin by drying the feathers by my shoulders and work inwards. From the tip of the wings down.” Hezirus explained. And it shocked you a little by how genuine he sounded. Like he was actually trying to help and not give a bit of cheek to your hesitance.

You nodded and did as he said. Placing the towel between the blades of his wings, against his skin, and started to wipe. His back felt like you were wiping down a rock wall. Smooth and hard against the palm of your hand under the soft fabric of the towel. And his feathers felt like shards of glass. The fine edges caught on the plush material of the towel. And you started to get frustrated with pulling the towel off the pin-needle threads of his feathers. It slowed you and eventually you had to discard the shredded remains of the first towel for another. But you still dabbed the feathers with as much care as you could. The strange, hard make of these feathers still felt fragile. Under your fingers, it felt like you could squeeze them and they’d shatter like a thin panel of glass.

Eventually, your arms started to ache. You were halfway done with the left wing and on your fourth towel since the others kept catching or became too wet for you to use. But it was taking you a long time to finish this task. By the time you got to the next wing, it probably would be dry.

Hezirus didn’t seem to mind how long it was taking you. He made himself another cup of hot tea and seemed content to hum along with the music that wafted through the baths. Occasionally, when your hand slipped and your fingers met the smooth, sharp lines of his feathers, he’d stop and glance at you. The first time this happened, you feared you had sliced your hand open. But your skin was left unmarked. Only his feather was damaged. Which you quickly smoothed down and ensured the rachis (the very thin base of the feather) hadn’t snapped under your touch. You kept your frustration and discomfort in check so you didn’t hurry and make a mistake. But there was so much to dry out.

And then you had to do the undersides of each wing as well! Which was a very intense experience. Not because anything was different, but Hezirus’ gaze was fixed on you the entire time. Over the lip of his cup when he sipped on his tea. Or when his head tilted, smirking when you had to readjust your towel when it started to slip.

You ignored him as much as you could. Keeping your eyes fixed on the feathers you were carefully drying.

An hour seemed to go by before you finally completed drying each wing. Your arms felt like jelly and in the heat of the room, you were sweating a little. Hezirus stretched his wings and curled one around himself so his fingers could glide over a few feathers. Testing your work.

“You’ll get better at it.” He said in amusement when his fingers came back with the smallest amount of moisture on his skin. “But next, you’ll need to oil them.”

“Oil them?” You huffed. Your arms, that had started to regain strength, gave a promising ache at the thought of another strenuous task. You followed Hezirus through another set of doors that led into, what you could only describe as, a fitting room. There were many shelves and dressers around the room. Mirrors lined the walls and a short stage was placed in front of the right hand wall. Obviously where Hezirus would stand to get fitted or stare at himself in each outfit.

Hezirus led you over to a large vanity with a massive round mirror. And Hezirus sat in the plush cushioned stool in front of the vanity, handing you a crystal bottle. The contents were clear with a slight shimmer when you tilted the bottle and the light trickled through the thick substance inside.

“You will only need a small amount for each wing. Too much and my feathers will be too heavy to lift me.” Hezirus explained, reaching into a drawer of the vanity and removed a silken hand-towel. Then grabbed a fine toothed comb with white teeth from the vanity top. Handing both to you before looking at you through the reflection of the mirror. “A little bit on the cloth, then as you spread it over my feathers, run the comb through the threads.”

“And what does this do?” You asked, popping the lid off the crystal bottle and dropping a small ball of oil onto the cloth. You then placed the bottle at your feet and moved closer to Hezirus. You followed your previous work and started running the cloth over the feathers nearest to his shoulder blades. Running the material down and the comb followed behind it. Sliding between the feather’s threads like a hot knife through butter. It gave the feathers a brilliant sheen and a nice aroma started to fill your nose.

“It makes my feathers look pretty.” Hezirus said simply. Watching you work over his shoulder. His wings were fanned out but relaxed. The longer feathers on the bottom of his wings curled as they rested against the marble flooring. You had a thought to say something, to warn Hezirus of crinkling the beautiful feathers. But his question scattered your thoughts, “What was it like falling through the fairy circle? Did it hurt?”

You thought back to when you tumbled through the darkness and cold. The harsh iron smell that welcomed you as your body free-fell through a vortex of freezing wind. You don’t remember it hurting. And you said as much. “It happened rather quickly. To be honest, I was drunk at the time, so if anything amazing or terrifying happened, I didn’t notice it.”

Hezirus hummed thoughtfully. His left wing twitched as the comb slipped and scratched the skin beneath the glossy feathers. You muttered an apology. Catching the small glare from the lord through the mirror. “Before the rings were outlawed, humans would come through battered and broken. Some even dead. You were lucky.”

You didn’t feel lucky. But you guessed there could be worse fates than combing oil into an other-worldly being's wings. “Why were they outlawed?” You asked. Though you could probably make a few good guesses.

“The new Queen disliked the use of human pawns in our wars.” Hezirus said. There was no judgment in his voice, only facts. Like he was reading it out of a book. “Some of the courts in our realm bred humans to fight against their enemies. Your kind are easier to grow and train than the long maturity of Fae warriors. You could never hold a flame to a trained elf or Fae lordling. But your numbers and stubbornness are nothing to scoff at. That, and she didn’t like how much mortal blood was running through her subjects.”

Your work stalled for a moment as you took in this information. But you quickly started moving the comb and cloth again when Heazirus shuffled his wings impatiently. “But Jackal had one open.”

“I doubt even he knew it was still active,” Hezirus said. His eyes searched your face for something. Horror? Disgust? But he only found silent concentration as you tried not to snag the comb on his skin again. “You haven’t asked why I have so many in my manor.”

“I don’t think I need to know.” You replied with a half shrug. Moving a step along his wing so you could start on the next section. “I could guess, I’m sure. But I think it would only horrify me.”

“Guess.” Hezirus smiled a vicious, almost hungry, type of smile. “I doubt you can guess correctly.”

It was your turn to glare at the lord over his shoulder. “I’d rather keep the rest of my sanity intact, thanks. I’m still trying to come to terms that I’m not having a really weird drunken dream. That feels very real.” Your fingers brushed over the feathers again. Feeling the sharpness of their edges before wiping the cloth over them, cleaning any smudge you might have left behind.

“You think you’re dreaming?” Hezirus asked. The smile faded into one that was more casual. Less predatory. “Is it common for you to have dreams that seem so real you question them?”

“Sometimes.” You replied. “I once had a nightmare that had me think something was in my house. Not a person, but a creature. Another time, I could taste the sweetness of a treat I was eating while dreaming. Made me very hungry when I woke up.”

Hezirus chuckled. A proper, light-hearted laugh that made his wings shift against the cloth. “What was the treat?”

You attempted to remember. But you couldn’t. You only recalled waking up confused and the memory of a flavor on your tongue.

And when you said this, Hezirus looked confused. “You don’t remember your dreams?”

“It depends.” You said. Moving along his wing, Hezirus stretched the limb as much as you needed to continue your work. “Nightmares are easier for me to remember. But I think that’s because the mind wants to remember it for future survivability. Even if it is my mind making them up and they’re not real. Dreams scatter the moment I open my eyes. It’s like grasping at floating specks of dust. The more you try to catch them, the more they evade your hands.”

Hezirus looked deep in thought as you combed through his feathers in silence. You completed the first wing and stepped over to the other, continuing the motions. This felt a lot easier than drying him.

“We don’t dream.” Hezirus said suddenly. “Some of us have prophecies when we sleep. But that’s linked to a power very few have. I’ve heard Maahes waking up, roaring at unknown voices. I doubt Jackal even sleeps. But I didn’t know humans could dream.”

It was your turn to glance at Hezirus in puzzlement. “You don’t dream?” Hezirus shook his head. “I suppose, a few humans don’t either. Or maybe, they do but they’re gone before they wake up. I don’t think you’re missing out on much. Some of the nightmares I’ve had are…wild…”

Hezirus’ brow grew faint lines as he stared at himself in the mirror. Deep in thought. You allowed the silence to grow between you. Concentrating on the task at hand. Even when you stood in front of him, polishing and combing the undersides of his wings, Hezirus continued to stare at nothing. As if he was trying to remember if he had ever dreamed of something before.

Then his eyes slid to you. Contemplating. “What causes your nightmares?”

You shrugged again. “Lots of things. Past trauma. Stress. I once watched a movie that made me dream of monsters in the dark.”

His wings shifted and you paused your combing to let Hezirus get comfortable. He then said, “Would you expect my home to visit you in your nightmares?”

You turned to look at him. Surprised by the question. “Oh, um…I don’t think so. Don’t get me wrong, I’m freaking out a little about all this. And Maahes definitely left an impression. But the dungeons might be the worst part so far. Or maybe the shadow things Jackal has. I don’t know. There’s a lot going on.” You returned to preening him and Hezirus fell quiet again.

You worked until each feather gleamed like polished glass. And Hezirus stood. His wing curled around himself so he could inspect your handiwork. You were surprised when he smiled and his wings tucked themselves tightly against his spine. “Not half bad. With practice, your hands will move more quickly. And I won’t be sitting here for hours while you shred my flesh apart.” He said. And you replied by rolling your eyes. Returning the items in your hands to the vanity and drawers.

“If I’m so bad at it, why don’t you get someone else to do it?” You asked. Watching the lord as he went to a dresser and opened it. Revealing a collection of clothes hanging on silver hookers. They were arranged in various shades of red and gold. And when Hezirus opened another cupboard, those were aligned in tones of blue and green.

“How else are you going to improve your skills?” Hezirus replied. His slender fingers delicately sliding down the hem of a gorgeous sapphire coat. “If you are to be my favored pet, I want you to do more than sit around my feet and look pretty.”

You pouted at his words. “Don’t you have servants that could do a much better job?”

“Of course. But none are as fun to play with as you. They don’t bite back. They’re so afraid to make a mistake that it takes longer sometimes for them to pamper my wings.”

Hezirus shifted back to the first dresser and removed a beautiful robe of autumn red and shimmering gold details. You averted your eyes as the towel dropped from around his waist. You felt him glance at you, but you didn’t give him the satisfaction of looking at the beautiful body in front of you.

Beautiful tanned skin, chiseled in a way that would put some Greek statues to shame.

When you saw the red and gold stop shifting in the corner of your eye, you turned your attention back to Hezirus. Who reached up to his hair and pulled a single pin from the bun. And a silky cascade of brown hair tumbled down over his shoulders. Perfectly untangled, as if he had already put a comb through it as it fell from the pin.

“Now, you my sweet thing, need something spectacular to wear.” Hezirus beamed as he turned to you. “We have a big day of sitting around listening to very old nobles talk. So, I need you to look stunning enough for me to distract myself when I get bored.”

You gawked at him. Trying to form a question, but having too many in your mind to properly make one, as he herded you into another room. His wing acted as a barrier behind you so you were forced to walk next to him.

Through another door, was a room smaller than the first fitting room. But very similar in layout. But here, instead of dressers and ranks of clothes, there were fabrics and materials on rollers. Stacked on top of the other to the ceiling. And there was a person here. A very tall, slender being with four arms and a face that reminded you of a praying mantis. But they looked human. Or…human-like.

When you entered, their long fingernails clicked excitedly and they bowed so low that their pointed chin almost touched the ground. “My Lord, what brings you in here? Are your robes not suitable?” Worry coloured the being’s voice. But Hezirus shook his head, waving away the creature’s concern.

“No, no, your clothes are fitted well, as always. But, I need something for my new pet.” The wing against your back pushed you forward. The strength behind it had you stumbling a few steps until you were standing directly under the chin of the being with too many arms. “Something that catches a gaze but keeps them wondering. Thin but modest.”

The being in front of you tilted its head and your throat tightened as two abnormally white eyes peered down at you. Your skin crawled as its gaze filtered over your body with precise concentration.

“Accessories?” The being asked. And Hezirus thought it over for a moment, but shook his head.

“No. She’s pretty enough without baubles and trinkets distracting the eye.” There wasn’t a flash of a smirk or a teasing stare that you could imagine would come with a sentence like that. And something about the genuine look in the lord’s eye that had your chest warming.

“Very well. Step here.” The being instructed with a wave of two hands to a small platform in front of a corner of mirrors. You hesitantly did as you were told. Staring at four versions of yourself at different angles.

Then, before you could protest, the towel was ripped from your body and discarded across the room. You yelped as the cool air bit at your skin and when you tried to cover yourself up, the being hissed like an angry snake. “Stay still.” Bony fingers wrapped around your wrist and your hand was yanked away from your chest. The harsh touch made you grimace. But the being’s hand quickly disappeared when a growl tore through the room.

You looked at Hezirus’ reflection from the mirror. His eyes were tearing into the creature by your side, the bronze now molten and bubbling with a restrained anger as the creature cowered at your ankles. You heard it whimper. And you didn’t blame it. Though the glare wasn’t set on you, the heat from the lord’s eyes was enough to sizzle your own skin just being in proximity of the target. “Forgive me, Lord.” The being chittered pathetically. “I only-”

“Bruise her and I will take an arm.” Hezirus warned it. Then the anger faded as quickly as it sparked. And the creature stood straight again. Its hands were now careful and light on your skin as it started taking measurements.

Fabric was pressed against your skin. Colors were matched to the tone of your complexion. All at the nod or shake of Hezirus’ head. And when Hezirus liked a color, or the feel of a material against your skin, the creature started to stitch. Skirts were placed around your waist and fabric wrapped around your bosom. Tightly enough that they were perked higher than they normally would. Giving them more volume. Almost to the point that your chest looked like it was going to jump out of the dress that was developing around your body.

The dress was almost an exact replica of the one Jackal had you dressed up in for Maahes. However, the material didn’t sparkle and was thicker…barely. The shape of your body was revealed only by the tight confines of the outfit. A deep ‘V’ revealed the even deeper crevasse of your breasts. It was gentle on your skin. It was unlike anything you’ve touched before. And the stitching that held it all together created gentle swirls, giving a delicate shape to your hips and thighs.

When the creature was done, you felt like a doll put on display for Hezirus to inspect. And he did so thoroughly. “Are you comfortable?” Hezirus asked. His fingers sliding along your hips. He didn’t comment when you pulled away from his touch. Glaring at him.

“I doubt you’ll let me put on a jacket?” You asked. And when Hezirus shook his head with a teasing smirk, you shrugged. “It’s fine.” More than fine. This dress looked like it cost more than you could afford in a lifetime. And when you looked at yourself in the mirror, you couldn’t deny how goddamn gorgeous you looked in it.

“Good. Because you’ll be sitting in it for the rest of the day.” Hezirus said. And with a gesture of his hand, the being beside him presented you with slippers. Silk and soft soles welcomed your feet as the being carefully slipped them on.

Another being was summoned to the first room and Hezirus had you sit in the vanity chair. The woman, a beautiful rosy cheeked elf, her pointed ears poked through neat strands of blonde hair, stared in shock as Hezirus asked her to do your hair. You weren’t sure if it was because you were sitting in a seat obviously reserved from Hezirus, or because you were human, but the elf’s hands were hesitant on your hair. Until Hezirus barked an order for her to hurry up.

Your hair was combed and made to shine. A pin was slipped between the strands, a beautiful piece of rubies and watery pink stones. Again, something you could never afford. Something that Hezirus was placing on you as if it was normal.

Once your hair was to his liking, Hezirus dismissed the elf and you followed him out of the room and into the neverending corridors of his estate.

You passed windows that overlooked the front of the manor and saw a large crowd gathering there. Your eyes widened when you noticed the line continued through the gardens and out past the estate gates. “Are they all here to see you?” You asked. Hurrying to catch up with Hezirus’ long strides.

He nodded. “Even escaping to my holiday home doesn’t allow me to evade my responsibilities. I’m sure some are even here to see you. The nosy vultures that they are.”

You swallowed the ball that was growing in your throat. And tried to speak without the unease flowing through your words. “They won’t…try anything would they?”

Hezirus laughed. But it wasn’t light or playful, it was cruel. Vicious. “They can definitely try. But as a guest in my home, any slight against you would be a slight against me. They’ll gawk and slobber at you. But no, my dear pet, none will touch you. You have my word.”

That sharp iron smell hit your nose and you expected something to happen. But nothing did. Your legs and arms moved as you wished and you didn’t see anything change as magic flowed around you. You looked at Hezirus and he merely smiled at you. Your silent question, unanswered.

You followed Hezirus into a throne room. A vast room of polished tiles, hanging tapestries and a single carpet that rolled in the center of it all. From the gold doors that were closed, to the throne of carved wood, stone and metal that sat at the opposite end. The throne was magnificent, but simple. And as you got closer, you noticed the intricate designs of leaves carved into each different material.

Then there was the seat next to it. A simple, low to the ground stool that was large enough for you to sit on and even curl your legs under yourself. The cushion was deep green and looked comfortable. But next to the throne, it looked like a pet bed.

“Sit.” The Fae Lord said. Again, not an order. An offering of comfort. And despite yourself, your nose curled a little at the thought of what this was leading to.

“I’m not a dog.” You spat and Hezirus’ eyes twinkled.

“Would you rather sit on my lap? There’s nowhere else to sit.” Hezirus replied. Seating himself on the throne and kicking an ankle over his knee. The robe flowed over him like a red blanket in a regal display of power. A crown of gold vines and roots sat atop his head. You don’t remember ever seeing him put that on.

You eyed the nook of his lap with disdain and slumped down on the stool. His chuckle echoed through the throne room.

The same elf from before approached you and started fiddling with your dress until it pooled around your ankles elegantly. You found yourself straightening your back as two guards, strapped in armor, also stepped closer to the throne. To their lord.

And the elf girl quickly retreated from your side when Hezirus waved his hand and the gold doors slowly opened.

You caught sight of many faces and bodies pushing to be first through the door. You almost laughed at the polite scramble of the two at the front of the pack as they tried to beat each to Hezirus’ feet. If they weren’t trying to hold their heads high and feign boredom, you were sure they’d be sprinting to beat the other to the throne.

“My Lord,” The one on the right rushed to greet the Fae Lord first. Much to the disgruntled glare of the other. Who fell silent and stepped back. Obviously having lost whatever race was happening between them. “I hope your morning has been pleasant. I see you have a new pet, congratulations.”

The man’s eyes flickered to you. And your whole body tensed with pins and needles as an unworldly blue gaze settled on you. A hunger blazed through the stranger and your pulse stuttered with a spike of nervousness, before settling as the man turned back to the lord beside you.

Hezirus tilted his head in a polite greeting. “Welcome. Make this quick, there is quite the line behind you.”

“Yes, yes, let me start off with the important query I come to you today.”

You grew bored incredibly quickly. You sat beside Hezirus while what seemed like hundreds of people came to ask him questions or ask permission. Once or twice, a person came to his attention and offered an alliance between houses. Something about a person in Hezirus’ court that would be a fine match for the person’s offspring. Hezirus seemed disinterested in it all. But spoke politely and firmly. His words carried authority, and none challenged it.

As much as the people stared at their lord, you were centered with quite a few curious and hungry eyes. Hezirus wasn’t kidding when people would slobber in your direction. You noticed some beast-like persons wiping their lips after staring at you for too long. Others snickered. Some sneered in a way that made your blood turn cold. Frozen with fear.

When these people came forth, Hezirus shifted and his hand casually drooped over the arm of the throne. His fingers brushed over your shoulder, sometimes playing with a curl of your hair, and you felt a calm wash over you. The scent of iron and fresh air following the sensation. When this happened, those who had cruel eyes that drank you in, turned away and hissed. As if burned.

Hours passed and your eyes wandered from strange faces and lust-full gazes, to inspect the room around you. You counted twenty tapestries. Each with their own design and colors. Houses, maybe. Courts of royalty in this strange world?

Then you noticed that the tiles on the floor had a decorated outline to them. And weren’t just colored shards of greens and browns and golds. A forest of sharp leaves and elegant flowing roots. Strange animals bounded between ferns and colorful flowers. You busied yourself with inspecting these floors, until Hezirus tensed beside you and his hand disappeared from your arm. Leaving warm tingles as his back straightened.

You moved your attention to the person in front of you. They looked similar to the guards that were positioned on either side of Hezirus’ throne. But this one was in green, rather than gold and brown. You hadn’t been paying attention to the conversation, but their pale eyes flicked to you. “You know what will happen when the Queen finds out about it.” It took you a moment to realize who the person spoke about. You. “Harboring humans is outlawed. Your pet will need to be sent home or killed, if you wish to avoid any punishment from her majesty.”

You risked a glance at Hezirus. And almost wished you hadn’t. The sheer anger in his eyes had his pupils blown wide and his knuckles white on the arms of his chair. You glimpsed talons sneak out from his human-like nails. “The human is under my protection until I find her a way home.” Hezirus replied. His calm voice contrasted the expression that painted his face. “I am searching for the cause of her coming here. Your Queen has no need to send a reminder of her laws. I know them well. Since I helped write them.”

Surprise riddled through you. And a wave of murmuring washed through the crowd behind the messenger. Who didn’t look convinced. “You prance it around like a prized horse and expect me to believe you are not…using her.”

Hezirus’ talons scratched at an imaginary imperfection on his throne as he replied. “Would your Queen rather I lock her up? Forget about her in the cold cells until I can shove her back to her realm? Keeping her fed, clean, clothed and comfortable is my priority. She is my guest here. Not a prisoner. Not a caged beast I found in the forest. A guest.”

Something about the word and how Hezirus said it carried more weight than you understood. And the messenger’s eyes narrowed in on you for a moment before he bowed. “Very well. I will inform my Queen of your intent. But, my Lord, know that she is watching you. If this goes on for too long or it disappears-”

“She,” Hezirus hissed. “Will not leave this estate unless it is to go back to her realm.”

As if that’s all he needed to hear, the messenger bowed again and left. The crowd watched him leave, continuing to mutter amongst themselves as Hezirus relaxed. His hand returned to lightly touch your shoulder. And you didn’t lean away from his fingers as they drew circles on your skin. Even if the talons left red lines instead of warm goosebumps.

Late in the afternoon, when the sun started to dip and shadows stretched over the estate, Hezirus finally stood. The room bowed to their retreating lord. You hurried after him. Taking a glance in your direction as a signal for you to come with him.

His wings shifted as he rolled his shoulders. Stretching and groaning as the doors behind you both closed. “I couldn’t take it anymore.” Hezirus scoffed. Continuing down the corridor, with you trailing behind his wings. “Not one had anything interesting to say. All demands and no compromises. At least some had some news of the lands on the outskirts of the forest. But still nothing interesting. What do they think drabbling to me will get them in return?”

You let Hezirus rant. Your legs were just happy to be moving again. You had been shifting restlessly on your stool all day. Unable to find another comfortable position until you were leaning against the throne and your legs sprawled out beside you. The elf girl had come out each time and shifted your skirts so they sat elegantly around you. Regardless of how you sat. Hezirus had taken the new position to reach new skin. Anytime they dipped lower than your collarbone, you shifted, and his fingers returned to your arms or brushed his knuckles along your jawline. Your skin itched from the claws he still hadn’t retracted. The lines on your skin weren’t harmful or permanent, already fading now he had left you alone. But the slight irritation made you long to bathe.

“Is it like that every day?” You asked. Your dress flowing around your legs, as light as a cloud.

“Not every day.” Hezirus sighed. Slowing just enough to let you catch up and walk next to him. “I offer my attention to them every so often so the nobles don’t get antsy. They swarmed here to see you. The news of your arrival left my estate quicker than I anticipated.”

“Did you mean it?” You asked. Lifting the dress a little so you could climb the stairs he took unhindered. “When you said you are looking for a way to send me back?”

“Yes.” Hezirus said. And you felt the glowing light of hope and relief flood through you. “You can’t stay here forever. As much as I would want that. But the Queen’s laws dictate any human that comes here, regardless of free will or otherwise, is to be sent home right away or killed. To stop any…procreation and abuse against your kind.”

“You said you helped write them, the laws.” You asked. And Hezirus nodded.

“As much as I hunger to devour you, my sweet flower, I can see the damage that it could cause if a human continued to stay in my court. The same damage I knew would unfold if those laws weren't set. Eventually, I could see your kind breaking through to our world and starting a revolution. Blood would be spilled on both sides. It wasn’t worth the risk, in my opinion. For sex and blinding pleasure. Or fodder for wars that are needless and proud.”

You nodded. Stunned, but understanding of his position. “It’s just surprising…” You said.

“Because I play with you so much that it makes me seem predatory?” Hezirus asked. And you nodded, not bothering to lie to him. He laughed softly. “Your kind never truly understood the allure you possess. You always tried to use it, and sometimes it would work, but it would get them killed more times than not. You’re like…catnip to Fae.”

“Why?” You asked. And Hezirus shrugged.

“I’ve found it to be a manner of things.” Hezirus led you into a dining room. Not the same one you first dined with Hezirus at, but very similar. It was on a higher level of the estate and the windows overlooked a garden of color. “Your blood, rich and untouched by magic, calls to some of us to be devoured. Though, many of us consider humans to be impure and toxic to consume, something about your blood calls to them. It could be a trace of Fae lingers in an ancient ancestor, passed down to an unsuspecting human. And it yearns to be with Fae-kind. Another reason is the strange obsession that grows in us when we bed a human. It has baffled my kind for centuries why we get such delicious pleasure from you. But that is the main reason. Once you lay with a human, you start to crave it.”

“We’re nothing but sex slaves in your eyes.” You said a little bitterly and Hezirus shrugged. Seating himself at the head of the table and gesturing for you to join him on his right side.

“Lust and love were commonly mistaken back then.” Hezirus explained. Leaning on his elbows that sat on the smooth surface of the dining table. “I had a friend that followed her human lover into their realm. I felt her life smolder out after some years. Consumed by the smog that plagues your world. It’s a dangerous thing, this…obsession. It’s another reason why the Queen had your kind banished from our realm. So fairies, fae and all in between are saved from the cruel fate of being consumed by a human’s allure.”

“But…we’re just…”

“Human. Yes, you are. And that alone has killed more of us than you can imagine.” Hezirus held your gaze until you tore yourself from those beautiful bronze eyes. “I have Jackal looking into how and why the ring brought you here. He has assured me that the ring had been disarmed when I ordered it. So, a mystery of why it flared to life when you stepped into the circle, is being investigated. The magic needed to take you back is dangerous. Since those traps were always a one way ticket to a cell and chains. But until then, I don’t want you to leave the estate. The Queen would find it easier to destroy you, than risk someone in my court using the portal to sneak more of you here.”

“She’d really just…kill me?”

“For the safety of her people and the forgotten truce between our worlds, yes. She’d burn you and forget about it an hour later.” Food was brought out and placed in front of you both. A warm dinner with wine to sip that matched the food perfectly.

Your stomach gave a loud rumble at the sight and smell of the food. You didn’t realize how hungry you had been until you started to eat. You waited until you started to feel full before asking the question that was dancing on the edge of your mind.

“Have you fallen to this…obsession with humans before?” You asked. And the amused smirk that curled Hezirus’ lips made you want to take back the question.

“When I was young, yes.” Hezirus replied. “My first human was gifted to me by the same friend that disappeared into your world. ‘You’ll love it,’ she said. ‘It’s like riding a cloud made of ambrosia on a summer’s morning. You’ll never want to leave their body.’ I was…let’s say, doubtful about it. But she was right. By the Hells…she was right.” Hezirus’ eyes clouded for a moment, but when they lifted from his plate to you, he was smiling playfully. “My parents were less than understanding why I spent all my time plowing humans everyday. A mated Lord and Lady had no need for outsourced pleasure. But I was young, they gave me more leverage than I deserved while being a Prince of the Wilds.”

You tilted your head, sensing a cloud of dread behind the lord’s words. “What happened?” You said the words slowly, very carefully. As if you had approached a wild beast and didn’t want to startle it.

Hezirus opened his mouth to answer. Those beautiful bronze eyes searched your face for something. And kept still, seeing the turmoil behind his gaze before he shook his head. “It’s a dark tale. And one of the reasons why I was so heavily involved in the creation of those laws.”

His tone attempted to keep the air light between you two, and something in your mind told you not to push. Or else something bad was going to happen. You merely nodded and finished your plate in peace.

Hezirus made small conversation, despite the heaviness in his gaze. You answered questions about your world. How the lives of humankind have changed over the centuries. What your life was like back there. You answered honestly. Once attempting to lie but Hezirus’ glare set a cold tremble through you and you quickly dropped your words. Giving him the truth about your mundane life.

Once dessert was presented and then eaten, Hezirus then brought you back to the bathing room. You went through the same song and dance as this morning. Hezirus would get too close and you’d shy away, snapping at him. He would laugh and tease you, splashing water at you as he backed away.

“You’re already naked, half the fun has already started.” He had said. Eyes twinkling. And you poked your tongue at him. Snatching the soap from the side of the pool before he could try and start that argument again.

Hezirus had you dry his wings and comb the oil through the feathers once more. When you questioned why he did this twice a day, the lord’s wings twitched hard enough to cause a stir of wind across the dressing room. “I like to be clean.” Was his only answer. And the tone of his voice silenced you for the rest of the task.

Once Hezirus was satisfied with your work, he led you a touch further down from the bathing room and to a pair of doors that looked far too magnificent to just be doors. The entire wooden surface were carvings of forests and battlefields. Creatures and faerie types raged in a battle beneath a canopy of trees. A gorgeous illustration of a winged wolf loomed over it all. Howling up at a sky full of stars and an eclipse in the center. It split down the middle as Hezirus approached the entrance and the doors opened up into a room the size of a house.

It was a lovely decorated room.With a roaring hearth warming the air with a large loveseat in front of it and a stack of books sat on the small table beside the lounge. Paintings filled the creamy walls and the ceiling was a mimicry of a tree’s branches in summer. Sunlight streamed through hundreds of leaves, giving the illusion of light through various shades of green.

Then your eyes fell on the absolute monster of a bed, and your heart sank a little.

This was a bedroom. Hezirus’ bedroom.

“I don’t think…” You started speaking but what were you going to say? It’s not appropriate? You didn’t want to stay here? Anything the lord wanted he very much could have. Did your worries even mean something to him? He brought you here, to his bedroom!

Hezirus strode through the room as if he didn’t hear the fear in your voice. He went to a door beside the large fireplace, hidden from you with your position by the door, and opened it.

“I know better than to force myself on a human.” Hezirus said, expression unreadable as he waved a hand through the open door. “But unless you’d rather sleep in that cold, dark cell, I’m still keeping you close.”

So he could come in later tonight while I’m asleep. I’m within arms reach and-

Hezirus sighed. Seeing your hesitation. “Would it make you feel better if I told you a little truth about myself? A piece of trust to gain trust. I used to be…like that. Used too. Humans were nothing but tools to me. A simple household item that I could use at my leisure. But I learnt my lesson in the power of consent. The brutal consequences of forcing a yes onto someone's lips when everything is screaming no. Your body is safe from me unless you say otherwise. I promise.”

His words were followed by a sting of iron on your nostrils and a cold wind that ripped through the room. You felt something in you seal. Like a lock in your skin that you couldn’t place the location of. The feeling caused a strange tingle to run through you. Enough so that you wrapped your arms around yourself and rub your skin for a bit of comfort.

But you nodded. Still feeling unsure, but anything was better than the cells. You approached Hezirus and peered into the next room. Another bedroom. It wasn’t as big as the first, but still rather spacious. And the bed was large enough that three of you could fit in it and still have room to roll around in. A smaller fireplace flickered and spat. And the room was decorated with a few paintings and shelves, crammed with books. A window looked towards a forest, dark and looming on the edge of the stone wall of the estate.

“To stop any unwarranted visits directly to your room, anything you need, let me know. And I’ll have it delivered to my room.” Hezirus explained. Keeping a respectful distance behind you as you take in the room. “I’ve already had clothes provided for you. They’ll be in the dresser.”

You glanced at the armoire and when you pulled open one of the drawers, you found lacey, thin clothing neatly folded within. You shot Hezirus a glare and he smiled innocently. “I’m going to freeze in these.” You muttered. Pulling a pair of lacey sleepwear from the piles.

“The fire will keep the room warm enough.” Hezirus replied. Leaning against the door, watching you as you inspected more of the clothes. Finding less and less coverage than the last. “Or if you get too cold, you can always share my bed.” You rolled your eyes at the honey and silk in his words. When you shot him another glare, he clicked his tongue. As if irritated. “Well, you can’t hate me for trying.”

You laughed and Hezirus smiled. You picked out a pair of sleepwear with the most material you could find. A simple pair of silk shorts and a top that looked more like a sports bra than a shirt. You tried to ignore Hezirus as he watched you drop the towel from around your body and change. Once you were clothed, Hezirus retreated to his bedroom. Taking a lounging position on the loveseat. His wings draped lazily over the cushions and sides. He almost took up the entire space. But conveniently there was a section for you between the side of the sofa and Hezirus’ side.

“No bedtime oi-” You stopped yourself before saying the word. Because you could imagine Hezirus’ reply if you finished your sentence. And the flash of mischief in his eyes confirmed your hunch. “I mean, no bedtime cleaning routine?”

Hezirus laughed and shook his head. Plucking one of the books from beside the lounge and began to read as he replied. “No, sweet flower, you can relax. I’m sure today was a lot for your adorable head. You can retire if you wish or join me by the fire.”

The warmth from the flames was comforting. The walk from the dressing room to the bedroom, with only your towel, had robbed some of the blissful heat from the baths. The night air had a chill to it. Even just standing by your bedroom door allowed some of the cold to brush along your skin.

Eyeing the very small space, tightly snug up against Hezirus and his wing, you bit you lip and tried to look for any other spot that wasn’t the floor. But there wasn’t anything else to drag over to the fire. You spotted spaces that could have once help a chair or lounge, but they were empty. How inconvenient… “I think I’ll retire.” You said. Glancing back at your room and Hezirus’ smile was soft when you said. “Goodnight, Lord Hezirus.”

“Goodnight, sweet flower. Sleep well.” The bronze of his eyes flickered with reflected flames and your heart thundered in your chest as you closed the door. You thought about locking it. He’d definitely hear it and you doubted it would stop the lord in his own home. But the whispering worry in the back of your head told you to do it anyway. And when you did, the sound echoed like a thunderclap in your room.

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

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[quasi-normalcy]

WHY IS it felt that the continued elevation of J K Rowling can only be achieved at the expense of other writers (Mistress of magic, News Review, last week)? Now we learn that prior to Harry Potter the world of fantasy was plagued with "knights and ladies morris-dancing to Greensleeves." In fact the best of it has always been edgy and inventive, with "the dark heart of the real world" being exactly what, underneath the top dressing, it is all about. Ever since The Lord of the Rings revitalised the genre, writers have played with it, reinvented it, subverted it and bent it to the times. It has also contained some of the very best, most accessible writing for children, by writers who seldom get the acknowledgement they deserve. Rowling says that she didn't realise that the first Potter book was fantasy until after it was published. I'm not the world's greatest expert, but I would have thought that the wizards, witches, trolls, unicorns, hidden worlds, jumping chocolate frogs, owl mail, magic food, ghosts, broomsticks and spells would have given her a clue?'

Terry Pratchett, letter in the Sunday Times, 2005.

[alphynix]

Strange Symmetries #23: Convergent Earvolution

Although it's not visible externally, owls have one of the most striking modern examples of asymmetry. The ears of many species are uneven, with the right ear opening positioned higher up than the left, giving them the ability to pinpoint the sounds of their prey much more accurately.

But surprisingly this isn't a unique anatomical trait that only ever evolved once in their common ancestor.

Instead, multiple different lineages of owls have actually convergently evolved wonky ears somewhere between four and seven separate times.

The boreal owl (Aegolius funereus), also known as Tengmalm's owl, is a small 25cm long (~10") true owl found across much of the northern parts of both Eurasia and North America. While most other owls' asymmetrical ear openings are formed just by soft tissue, the boreal owl's lopsided ears are actually visible in the bones of its skull.

But despite how many times owls have convergently evolved asymmetrical ears, and how successful this adaptation has been for them, for a long time it seemed to be something that no other animals have ever mimicked.

In the early 2000s asymmetric ears were reported in the skulls of some troodontid dinosaurs, which seem to have been nocturnal hearing-based hunters similar to owls, but proper details on this feature still haven't been formally published.

Then, just a couple of weeks ago, another example was finally announced.

The night parrot (Pezoporus occidentalis) is a small ground-dwelling parrot found in Australia, close to the same size as the boreal owl at around 22cm long (~9"). Critically endangered and very elusive, it's rarely seen and little is known about it – and it was presumed extinct for much of the 20th century, until more recent sightings of living individuals confirmed that the species is still hanging on.

Recent studies of preserved museum specimens have revealed that it seems to have poor night vision but excellent hearing, and that its right ear opening is noticeably asymmetrical, bulging out sideways from its skull. Much like owls the night parrot relies on acute directional hearing to navigate in darkness, but since its diet consists mainly of seeds it's probably not using this ability to locate food sources. Instead it may be listening out to keep track of the precise locations of other parrots, and for the approach of predators – so its sharp sense of hearing may be the reason this unique bird has so far just barely managed to survive the presence of invasive cats and foxes.

———

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[jplupine]

Primal Pred!Grimmjow x Prey!Reader

Pairing: Grimmjow Jaegerjaquez x AFAB Reader Word Count: ~4.6k Date Published: Nov 25, 2023 WARNINGS: 18+ MDNI, Exophilia, Established Relationship, Size Difference, Primal Play, Marking, Light Blood/Injury, Cunnilingus, Outdoor Sex, Feral Behavior, Name Calling [Asshole, Bitch, Kitty Cat], Creampie, Brat!Reader; Reader is AFAB but no gender is specified, Terms such as pussy/cock/dick/etc. get used

A/N: The follower milestone fic is finally finished! I want to thank everyone who participated in the event and everyone kindly supporting me ^-^ <3

  The crackling fire danced in the pit surrounded by pale stones. The shadows swayed with the light flickering shades of orange and white. Insects of the night called out their chorus from the darkness beyond the fire.

  You sat on a log with your fingers wrapped around a warm cup of coffee. It wasn't quite the same as what you brewed at home, but it did add a bit of comfort as you sipped it. The atmosphere was relaxing and made you glad you'd decided to go on a camping trip to get away from the bustle of work and city life.

  The dark night sky littered with glittering stars and the moon shining bright were so unlike the sky hidden by street lights back home. It was breathtaking.

  And given it was still in the transition time between summer and autumn, it wasn't too warm nor too cold out. You'd checked the weather forecast before heading out into the woods too, and it was supposed to remain like this for the next few days you were out there.

  An owl screeched in the distance before a stick in the fire snapped, sending embers up into the night sky as if they were trying to join the stars.

  You closed your eyes to just listen to the world around you; soaking it in while bringing the coffee to your lips. No sound of speeding cars. No foul smells from rotting garbage or fumes from exhaust pipes. And certainly no manager or boss nagging about work.

  It was bliss.

  You sighed and opened your eyes again. Glancing around, you began to wonder where your camping partner was. He'd gone off to stretch his legs, but that had been some time ago now.

  Looking into the shadows of the trees, you tried to see if you could spot him. You weren't all that worried since you knew he could take care of himself, but that didn't stop you from wondering when he'd come back. Taking another drink of your coffee, you stretched out your legs in front of you.

  However, as the fire popped and crackled, the woods began to feel different. The hair on the back of your neck stood on end as unease began to settle in. Something was wrong, but you couldn't tell what.

  Your heart began to beat faster as you sensed something you couldn't see.

  A low, thunderous rumble shook the air and made you jolt. It was hard to tell where the sound was coming from with how it bounced through the trees surrounding your campsite.

  Sitting up straight with your eyes darting around, you still didn't see anything. It sounded like an animal; big and dangerous. Slowly setting down your coffee, you reached into your pocket to grab your knife.

  It wasn't much, but it was better than nothing as the blade flipped out from the handle. Gradually rising to your feet, your grip on the knife tightened while your heart was pounding.

  You could feel eyes on you. Whatever the beast was, it was certainly watching you. Swallowing, you hoped the fire was enough to keep the thing in the shadows.

  Hearing a twig snap, your gaze shot in the direction of the sound. Eyes reflecting the fire's light shined from the darkness. Another rumbling growl came from the same direction as the eyes, and your heart beat faster.

  The eyes went lower, and you had a feeling the beast was getting ready to pounce. Brandishing your knife, the creature in the shadows seemed to hesitate as light shined against the blade. The eyes in the dark locked with yours before there was a loud rush of wind.

  The fire was blown out, leaving you surrounded in complete darkness until your eyes could adjust. You couldn't yet see but heard movement ahead of you.

  The beast was closing in.

  You ran and nearly tripped over the log if you hadn't caught yourself from falling. As you ran, your eyes became more accustomed to the night, allowing you to run through the trees faster. A roar that shook you to the bone silenced the rest of the woods, sending the other creatures into hiding to avoid getting caught.

  With your heart loudly pounding in your own ears, you nearly screamed when something grabbed your shoulder only to swing the knife instead. You felt the blade make contact before the beast roared. Everything happened so fast that you only saw a flash of fangs in the moonlight and claws before the knife was sent flying out of your hand. You heard it thunk as the blade was buried deep into a tree trunk.

  You didn't think twice, going into survival mode to run even faster.

  "Bitch!" A barked, angry voice made you nearly stumble. No, you must have misheard. You still didn't stop. When a fallen tree blocked your path, you vaulted over it and hoped it would deter the beast.

  However, as your legs carried you further, you could still feel the thing behind you, chasing you. What made it more terrifying were the sounds; the growling and snapping of sharp teeth like the razor point edges of scissors grinding against each other.

  You knew it was getting closer and were already picturing in your head how it would tear you apart once it caught you.

  You were grabbed from behind, getting jerked back by your jacket. Crying out from shock, you struggled and unzipped your jacket to slip out of the garment. The beast held onto the jacket as you scrambled away and managed to get distance.

  Looking back, you saw the creature as it stood a few yards away. Its body was lean and pale with a long tail whipping around behind it. It was bipedal with muscled limbs and long hair past their waistline. And your jacket was clutched in its hands while being pressed against the beast's face.

  When it looked at you, your breath caught in your throat. Those glowing eyes were set in a face that was all too human.

  It wasn't an animal. It wasn't human, either.

  "Grimmjow! You scared the shit out of me, you fucking asshole!"

  "I know. I can smell it." His face then lifted from your jacket with a displeased expression. "And you cut me, fucker." Grimmjow's low voice growled, and your eyes drifted to his cheek where there was dried blood but no wound.

  "It's already healed, you big baby." You retorted with a huff. His tail twitched as his gaze traveled over your face. Grimmjow's lips curled up into a vicious grin with his fangs exposed.

  "Why are you still standing all the way over there? Aw, are you mad?" His tone was mocking, and your hands balled into fists at your sides.

  "Yes, I'm mad!" You angrily pointed at the Arrancar without taking a step closer. "You made me think I was about to get eaten!"

  "I mean," Grimmjow cocked his head to the side as his ears perked up. His slit pupils widened a slight fraction, eyelids lowering just a bit as he looked over your body. "I never said I wasn't going to eat you."

  His tone and hungry gaze sparked something deep in your gut. Grimmjow's tail curled as he shifted his weight on his digitigrade legs, his paws so quiet when he took a step closer. You took a step back, maintaining the distance between you two.

  Grimmjow stopped to look at you again as the hunger in his eyes intensified. He slowly licked his lips like a beast would its maw.

  You knew the Arrancar well enough by now to recognize when the predator within him was stirring. You also knew if you made any sudden movement, he just might pounce and take you down like prey.

  The air felt electrified as you two just stared at one another, eyes locked as unspoken words lingered at the forefront of your mind. Grimmjow brought your jacket to his face again, making a show of inhaling your scent with a soft purr rumbling in his chest.

  You still didn't move. The Arrancar was on a precarious edge, and you weren't entirely sure what he would do next.

  Grimmjow suddenly threw your jacket to the side and lunged forward. You reacted as soon as you saw him move, turning to run as he landed where you had been standing just a second prior. He was on his hands and paws like a beast, watching you as you went around a tree.

  His instincts made his blood run hot through his veins, and you could feel those piercing eyes trailing after you. You'd set off the predator and ran like prey.

  The hunt was on.

  The bestial call that rang out through the trees made your heart beat faster as you weaved through the trees. Excitement and fear mingled together and fueled your legs to carry you further. Not knowing what he might do if he caught you had your mind racing with the possibilities.

  Skidding around a boulder, you changed directions. Running in a straight line would make it easier for Grimmjow to track you down, and you didn't want that.

  You'd learned to shift your weight and posture to make your steps quieter over the ground littered with dead leaves and did so now. You were going to do everything within your power to make this as difficult as possible for Grimmjow.

  Grabbing your beanie, you rubbed it against your neck to make your scent on it stronger before you threw it into the bushes. You went in the opposite direction in the hopes of confusing Grimmjow even if just for a moment.

  Panting, you hid behind a large tree surrounded by plants tall enough to cover you as you crouched. Leaning one hand against the trunk of the tree, you tried to catch your breath. Hearing a growl in the distance made you smirk.

  Going lower, you pressed your body down against the earth to look out from under the foliage without giving your position away. The moon and stars cutting through the trees gave you enough light to see beyond where you were hidden.

  Taking slow, deep breaths, your eyes scanned the woods. Far away, you spotted movement. Through the trees, you could see Grimmjow as spots of moonlight danced over his body.

  The Arrancar was still on his hands and paws, muscles rolling beneath his skin-tight clothing as his movements were reminiscent of a big cat. His tail swayed with his head held level with his spine and nose twitching as he scented the air.

  Watching him thrilled you. He was neither man nor beast and didn't care about keeping up appearances of either, and you liked that. You liked how he could posture and smirk like a man, and you also liked how he would act like an animal as he pursued you.

  It certainly appealed to a primal part of your brain in a way you didn't fully understand. You should be terrified of his power and destructive capabilities, but seeing how his feral eyes and silky hair shined in the moonlight as he crouched left you enamored.

  With Grimmjow crouching where he was, you could see the muscles in his thighs bunching beneath his clothes. You covered your mouth and nose to muffle the sound of your breathing as his furry ears began to swivel. He was listening to the woods around him, picking up sounds in several directions that his ears moved in.

  His eyes closed with his head tilting back. Grimmjow's fingers flexed with his daunting claws catching the moonlight. His head then rolled to the side, his eyes snapping open as he looked right at you with a grin.

  Your hair stood on end as the predator twisted and moved in your direction. Scrambling to your feet, you kicked up leaves and dirt before bolting to keep the chase going.

  You ran faster even as your muscles and lungs burned. Grimmjow roared, letting you know that he was closing the distance and fast.

  Something caught your foot, sending you tumbling across the ground right as the beast went flying overhead. Tripping over a root had saved you from being caught again.

  Grimmjow landed ahead of you and twisted with claws digging into the earth. Locking eyes with him as you pushed yourself up, your fingers sank into the soil beneath you. His tail whipped from side to side as you both were in similar positions on all fours, waiting for one or the other to make a move.

  You couldn't look away, panting as you tried to think of what to do next. Grimmjow's slit pupils widened as his top lip curled to bare a mouth full of fangs with a maniacal grin.

  He made the first move, lunging forward with a flex of his thighs and biceps. You reared back in an attempt to get away only to fail. He was faster, but you weren't giving up so easily.

  Grabbing a nearby fallen branch, you swung it like a bat and hit him across the face. He reared back with a vicious yowl while flashing his fangs. When his head swung back down, you used the branch to keep those sharp teeth away from you, already knowing how much of a biter the bastard was.

  His growling vibrated through the branch and up your arms as his fangs sank into the wood. Claws tore through the sleeves of your shirt as you struggled to get him off you. He was so strong, keeping you trapped like a mouse beneath him.

  Your pounding heart sent adrenalin rushing through your veins while you watched his long canines vanish into the branch as it creaked from the force of his jaws. His bite was powerful enough to break through the wood and sent a rain of splinters falling over you.

  His big hands grabbed your wrists and pinned them against the ground by your head. Kicking against the ground, you still fought to get free only to fail. His fangs snapped right in front of your face as you screamed, sounding more angry than afraid.

  "Got ya." Grimmjow sounded amused, but you snarled and moved to punch him. However, his strength was far greater than yours, keeping your hands firmly against the ground. "Mm, yeah. Keep struggling. I like it when my prey puts up a fight."

  He was mocking you, but you knew he was telling the truth all the same. Perhaps it was a part of the Hollow nature within Grimmjow that made him enjoy subduing you in such a way. It was domination through force when you put up a fight and didn't let him have you so easily.

  And this appealed to you as well. While you couldn't fight back the way another Hollow might, you also knew you didn't have to hold back as much with him not being human.

  Locking your legs around his waist, you twisted to switch your positions. Grimmjow fell on his back while still holding your wrists. The momentum kept going as you both rolled across the ground with him snarling and growling.

  You managed to wrench one hand free and grabbed the folded collar around most of his neck to yank it back. More of his scarred chest was exposed along with part of his shoulder and the side of his neck, and you sank your teeth into the muscle now bared. Claws tore through the side of your shirt as Grimmjow yowled.

  He roughly forced you onto your stomach, using his weight against your back to pin you down as he fisted your hair and made you bare the back of your neck. His breath was hot against your skin before his fangs scraped over your neck, causing goosebumps to rise even as he bit down. Grimmjow ground his hips against your ass as his chest rumbled.

  He had you now. With his sharp teeth clamped against your neck hard enough to cause small beads of blood to form, there was no more getting away. His erection pressed against you through the layers of clothes you both wore, letting you know just how worked up the Arrancar had gotten.

  You knew Grimmjow could smell your arousal and could hear the quick beating of your heart. Those two things in combination never failed to drive his instincts wild.

  His warm tongue lapped up the blood from the back of your neck as he purred. The sound of ripping fabric met your ears before you realized he was tearing through your shirt.

  "Grimmjow!" You snapped at him, but the garment was already ruined and being shoved over your shoulders. You didn't actually mind it; the action aroused you more, but you didn't want to give in just yet.

  "Pick your next words carefully." His voice was breathy with a warning tone as he spoke near your ear. His hands went down your sides to roughly grab the waistband of your jeans.

  "Or what? You'll bite me again?" You spoke while lifting your hips to push your ass against him more. "Try me, fucker." Getting your hands under you, you managed to undo the button and zipper of your pants, but Grimmjow tore his claws through the material while shoving it down over your ass and legs.

  You kicked off your shoes to let him take the last shreds of your pants off. They were tossed to the side without a care. Grimmjow then grabbed your hips to lift your ass higher into the air as you pushed your underwear down before he could get his claws on them.

  Grimmjow's hands went lower, spreading you open before eagerly burying his face between your thighs. His tongue lapped up your arousal with a low groan. Your breath faltered as you spread your knees further.

  You sucked your bottom lip between your teeth when his tongue dragged over your clit. His fangs brushed against your flesh as he pulled you closer to his hungry mouth. Grimmjow's claws pricked your skin before he let go.

  His lips and tongue were still on you, and based on his movement, you assumed he was undressing while still eating your pussy. You took in a sharp breath when he growled and the vibration was carried on his tongue. Your hips rocked back to chase the feeling, and Grimmjow grabbed your ass and squeezed.

  He was ravenous with his claws pricking your skin. By now, he knew what made you feel good and what could make you elicit the very sounds he wanted to hear. His growl shook you to the bone as wet sounds came from between your thighs.

  You were panting when his broad tongue swiped over your core before he pulled away. Grimmjow spit, his saliva landing on your pussy as your clit throbbed.

  One of his large hands grabbed your head to pin it against the ground, pressing your cheek into the dirt as the head of his cock slid between your wet lips. He mixed his spit in with your arousal while slicking up his dick. You could tell the Arrancar was eager from his unsteady breaths and his grip on you.

  When he finally pushed inside, you felt yourself stretching to accommodate his thickness. Grimmjow didn't go slow, thrusting deep until his hips hit your ass. You both grunted as your hands balled into fists.

  Looking over your shoulder, your gaze met Grimmjow's. Something in your eyes made his tail twitch.

  "You're being awfully impatient, kitty cat. You really that needy for me?" Your words made his nose scrunch up with a snarl. You had yet to truly submit to him even if your body had.

  Grimmjow fisted his hand in your hair, tugging on it to pull your head back and make you incapable of looking at him. His other hand grabbed your hip with his claws digging into your skin hard enough to leave marks. Without warning, he pulled out and thrust back in harshly, forcing a low moan from your throat.

  "Who the fuck are you calling kitty cat, bitch?" He growled, but you couldn't respond since he forced another moan from you. You'd pissed him off as intended, and he was going to fuck you into submission.

  He'd mistakenly believed the fight was over. Too bad that spark in you was harder to quell and you were certain to give the Arrancar attitude. He may have caught you, but he needed to earn your submission.

  Grimmjow let go of your hair to hold both of your hips, his heavy thrusts slamming his hips into your ass hard enough that you could feel the jiggle of your flesh. He was an animal pinning you in place as your mind swam with pleasure.

  You were moaning, crying out into the night as he grunted and drove his cock deeper.

  "Listen to you." You could hear the smile in his voice. "Now who's the needy one?" You didn't trust your voice enough to verbally respond and settled on raising your middle finger. Grimmjow then went for your throat, wrapping his big arms around you while forcing you to lay flat against the ground with his large hand curled around your neck.

  He still rutted against you as his hot breath hit the side of your head. This position meant he couldn't go as deep as before, but the angle had his cock ramming into the perfect spot to make you buck and writhe. Grimmjow chuckled as you struggled to contain yourself beneath him.

  "That's it." His voice rumbled near your ear before his firm grip on your neck tilted your head up. "Submit to your king." Your moan pitched higher as your eyes fluttered closed. His lips and teeth brushed against the shell of your ear as he panted, making you shiver.

  His grip on your throat tightened but remained loose enough that you could still freely moan. Grimmjow wanted to hear you cry out, every moan a form of worship that stroked his ego. He knew with how pliant you were in his hands now that you had given over control and submitted.

  You felt the sweat forming on your skin as fire burned through your veins. Grimmjow's heat and weight on your back made your head spin as the pleasure made you buck. He grabbed one of your wrists and pinned it to the ground, exerting more control over your body as you bent to his will.

  Being trapped beneath him, you took whatever he gave with enthusiasm. Each heavy thrust made you fall deeper into the pit of pleasure. Grimmjow's mouth moved to the back of your neck again, licking the bite he'd already left while nipping in other places.

  Your voice shook as your toes curled, and the deep groan the Arrancar made was bordering a growl. You panted curses under your breath as Grimmjow fucked you, ramming his cock into the spot that lit your nerves aflame and made you cry out his name.

  Grimmjow ran his tongue over the bites littering your skin as he savored every sound you made. How you clenched around him drove him further toward the edge. His strong grip on your throat with his claws scraping against your skin only fueled your desire.

  The sounds of skin slapping against skin filled the air. Grimmjow's growls mingled with your moans and carried through the trees and into the darkness of the woods. He buried his face into your hair, inhaling your scent and groaning low with his hips grinding against your ass. His dick dragged against your walls, rubbing against every spot that made you squirm and gasp and moan.

  The carnality was bliss. You gave yourself to him completely, leaning into his touch while your spine arched from the pleasure wracking through your body. Grimmjow released your wrist and throat to grab your hips as his weight on your back pushed you further against the earth.

  His claws scraped your skin as his thrusts picked up speed, his balls smacking against you with his frenzied pace. Grimmjow sank his teeth into your shoulder with a groan as your blood coated his tongue. You would always wear his mark so long as you were his.

  Grimmjow pistoning into your wet pussy created lewd, slicking sounds that drove him wilder. Your taste, your scent, how you felt around his cock, and how wet you were for him made Grimmjow's head fall into such a primal state of desire. He was drowning in you and unable to come up for air until he could cum.

  So he fucked you harder, chasing that high and that feral instinct screaming in his veins to fill you with his seed. Claiming his prey in every way he could left both of you unable to think straight. You were drooling with your fingers digging into the dirt, muscles tensing and rolling beneath your skin.

  Your bodies being flush against each other meant everything was felt. Every twitch, every heartbeat, every sound that vibrated from the chest and throat.

  Grimmjow left scratches over your hips as he tried to pull you even closer. It was impossible, but that didn't stop his pleasure-clouded mind from telling him he needed to. He moaned into your skin while thrusting his cock as deep as he could go.

  You cried out with your thighs shivering, and that was the final thing that made Grimmjow snap. With shallow thrusts and animalistic grunts, his cock began to twitch while pumping you full of his cum. He didn't stop, continuing to fuck you through his orgasm and drive his seed deeper into your core even as it overflowed and dripped down your thighs.

  Grimmjow released your shoulder from his jaws, groaning and licking the bite while his cum mixed with your arousal. He let go of one hip and slipped his hand under you to find your clit. Being mindful of his claws, he pressed his fingertips against the throbbing bud.

  You bucked and moaned an octave higher. Grimmjow let go of your other hip to grab your jaw and make you turn your head for a kiss. His tongue dove into your mouth without warning and glided across yours as he devoured your moans. He soon had you cumming around his cock as you clenched and cried out in pleasure.

  He didn't stop until you were whimpering and dancing on the line of overstimulation. He pulled away with his nose brushing through your hair before his lips traveled down your spine with kisses and gentle nips as he purred. You propped your upper half up on your elbows and wiped the drool from your chin.

  Your skin still buzzed despite feeling sated. Grimmjow pulled his cock free of your heat and spread you open to see the mess leaking from your pussy. He huffed and gave a satisfied purr that rumbled deep in his chest.

  You looked over your shoulder to see Grimmjow admiring you with a smirk on his soft lips and his pupils still blown wide. Biting your bottom lip, you couldn't help but give a sultry smile.

  Pushing yourself up, you turned to drape your arms over his shoulders and capture his lips in a hungry kiss. Grimmjow's tail thumped against the ground as he wrapped his arms around you and held you close.

  "Maybe next time we should start the hunt naked." You muttered with your lips only centimeters from his. "Jeans are expensive, you know?" Grimmjow chuckled, and his warm palm traveled up your back.

  "Yeah. 'Cause you're really so concerned about that." His smirk didn't falter even as he had a sarcastic tone. "I'll hunt you however, my sweet bitch." Grimmjow nipped your bottom lip while purring, and you yelped when his hand smacked against your ass hard enough to make it sting.

[useless-catalanfacts]

La Pedrera. Photos from Ajuntament de Barcelona and La Pedrera.

Nowadays, la Pedrera is one of the most famous building in Barcelona, Catalonia. It's one of the most emblematic buildings in the Catalan Modernism style, and has been declared part of the UNESCO World Heritage Site "Works of Antoni Gaudí".

But it hasn't always been recognised as good architecture, all the opposite! In fact, take a look at its name: it's technically called Casa Milà (house of the Milà family), but locals always call it "la Pedrera", which means "the quarry" in the Catalan language. When it was built, in 1910, Barcelonians thought it looked like an ugly piece of stone-y quarry mountain in the middle of the city.

But that's not the only thing that they thought it looked like. Let's see some parodies that were published at the time:

In 1909, the popular magazine Cu-Cut! published this vignette of a mother and a son walking in front of the house, when the child asks his mom "was there also an earthquake here?". This is a reference to an earthquake that happened in Sicily the previous month, and to the house's bendy shapes that look like it was shaken.

In 1925, the children's magazine En Patufet also joined in, with a vignette where the owner realises he can't hang up curtains* on this windows.

*Note: I'm using the translation "curtains" as a simplification so that English speakers without a detailed knowledge of Catalan culture can understand the joke. The vignette actually uses the word "domàs", meaning a decorative textile that is hanged from balconies during holidays.

In 1910, Cu-cut! compared it to a mona, the cake that Catalans eat on Easter Monday, by drawing a vignette where a child says "Daddy, daddy, I want a mona as big as this one!".

Three times did the magazine El Diluvio mock this building.

First, in 1910, they called it a "Medieval architecture model, between burrow and burial, that I don't quite dislike". It described its future in the following way: "the round gaps in the façade have become dark holes where all kinds of vermin come in and out: crocodiles and rats, but also snakes, hedgehogs, owls, sea monsters... Two undulating lines wrap up the building, which stands in front of an absolutely black sky. Above it, in the rooftop, the chimneys, the air vents and the stairs' endings have stopped being whipped cream mountains to become sinister piles of skulls."

In 1911, El Diluvio striked again, comparing the building's cast iron handrails to a fish stand. Their illustration had Casa Milà with a sign saying "cod entrails sold here!".

And lastly, it made fun of the controversial statue of Our Lady of the Rosary that was supposed to go on top. The Milà family in the end decided not to place the statue (some say because they didn't like how the sculptor made it, some say it's because they were scared of having a religious symbol after the 1909 anti-clerical riots) but the architect Gaudí, who was a very religious man, insisted on having it. This caused the Milàs and Gaudí to argue, which the magazine represents with a caricature of Mr. Milà wearing a Tarzan-like loincloth and branding a whip fighting against Gaudí wearing a pith helmet, grabbing him by the hair and hitting him with a hammer. The text under the image translates to "Will the Virgin Mary stand on top of the peculiar monument? Who will win, Gaudí or Milà?".

In 1912, the popular magazine L'Esquella de la Torratxa imagined that this extravagant futuristic building could only be a garage for parking airship and air-planes. This satirical drawing is titled "Future Barcelona. The true destiny of the Milà and Pi house". (Milà and Pi were the owners of this building).

The text that accompanied this illustration wondered if this building is the Wagnerian Valhalla, an anti-aircraft defense for the Moroccan War, or a hangar for zeppelins.

What do you think? Was the banter justified?

[sleepingdeath-light]

listed below is everything that i have published for my 2022 kinktober writing event - listed by date of publishing and updated daily between the 1st and 31st of october.

minors please do not interact with any of the content outlined here! thank you!

MINORS AND AGELESS BLOGS WILL BE BLOCKED

os = one shot ; hc = headcanon set

(readmore used because there are 60-something links to scroll past)

day one ; edging

os . “in the dead of night”

feat. masky (marble hornets) and an amab!reader (they/them) + dub con

hc . howl pendragon (howl’s moving castle)

hc . clotted cream cookie (cookie run kingdom)

day two ; gun play

os . “russian roulette”

feat. din djarin (the mandolorian) and a female!reader

hc . undertaker (black butler)

hc . natasha romanov (marvel)

day three ; overstimulation

os . “cry for me”

hc . steve rogers (marvel)

day four ; breeding kink

os . “the heir”

feat. prince caspian (the chronicles of narnia) and a female!reader

hc . bruno madrigal (encanto)

day five ; impact play

os . “one more time”

feat. mean dom!light yagami (death note) and a gender neutral!reader (they/them)

hc . vincent phantomhive (black butler)

hc . the grabber (the black phone)

day six ; praise

os . “pretty little thing”

hc . daycare attendants (five nights at freddy’s)

hc . jason voorhees (friday the 13th)

hc . sawyer brothers (texas chainsaw massacre)

hc . thomas hewitt (texas chainsaw massacre)

day seven ; hair pulling

os . “weary head”

feat. l lawliet (death note) and a gender neutral reader (they/them)

hc . affogato cookie (cookie run: kingdom)

hc . hawks (my hero academia)

day eight ; body worship

os . “lady in red”

feat. grelle sutcliffe (black butler) and a male reader

hc . undertaker (black butler)

hc . padmé amidala (star wars)

day nine ; daddy/mummy kink

os . “his baby”

feat. erwin smith (attack on titan) and a male reader

hc . jane foster (marvel)

hc . dark!wanda maximoff (marvel)

day ten ; consensual non consent

os . “tourist trap”

feat. otis b. driftwood (the firefly trilogy) and a female reader

hc . bucky barnes (marvel)

hc . asa emory (the collector)

day eleven ; pegging

os . “something new”

feat. tony stark (avengers) and an afab reader (they/them)

hc . korrasami (legend of korra)

hc . valkryie (marvel)

day twelve ; multiple penetration

os . “at world’s end”

hc . slenderman (creepypasta)

hc . hela odindöttir (marvel)

day thirteen ; oral

os . “hell and high water”

hc . eyeless jack (creepypasta)

day fourteen ; knife play

os . “born to rule”

hc . jesse cromeans (laid to rest)

hc . azuma genkaku (deadman wonderland)

day fifteen ; deep throating

os . “king for a day”

hc . baby firefly (the firefly trilogy)

day sixteen ; hand jobs

os . “the consort”

hc . natasha romanov (marvel)

hc . newt scamander (fantastic beasts)

day seventeen ; shower sex

os . “after dark”

hc . levi ackerman (attack on titan)

hc . jennifer check (jennifer’s body)

day eighteen ; threesome

os . “scream for us”

hc . eda clawthorne & raine whispers (the owl house)

hc . gomez & morticia addams (the addams family)

day nineteen ; temperature play

os . “pathetic mortal”

hc . frost queen cookie (cookie run: kingdom)

hc . dabi (my hero academia)

hc . marvel woman (multiple film series)

hc . fire spirit cookie (cookie run: ovenbreak)

day twenty ; gagging

os . “quiet, love”

hc . saeyoung choi / 707 (mystic messenger)

hc . scp 035 (scp foundation)

day twenty one ; sensation play

os . “training”

hc . queenie goldstein (fantastic beasts)

hc . scp 049 (scp foundation)

day twenty two ; collaring

os . “new pet”

hc . sirius black (harry potter)

hc . sinclair brothers (house of wax)

day twenty three ; face sitting

os . “good boy”

hc . wanda maximoff (wandavision)

hc . marauders (harry potter)

day twenty four ; exhibitionism

os . “disciple”

hc . tom riddle (harry potter)

hc . captain caviar cookie (cookie run: kingdom)

day twenty five ; thigh riding

os . “the reward”

hc . charlie morningstar (hazbin hotel)

hc . scp 035 (scp foundation)

hc . remus lupin (harry potter)

hc . original avengers (marvel)

day twenty six ; bondage

os . “all wrapped up”

hc . jumin han (mystic messenger)

hc . hoodie (marble hornets)

day twenty seven ; voyeurism

os . “secret admirer”

hc . ticci toby (creepypasta)

hc . misa amane (death note)

day twenty eight ; breath play

os . “three, two, one”

hc . bo sinclair (house of wax)

hc . tiffany valentine (bride of chucky)

day twenty nine ; pet play

os . “pretty piggy”

hc . sebastian michaelis (black butler)

hc . harley quinn (birds of prey)

day thirty ; period play

os . “the urge”

hc . alcina dimitrescu (resident evil village)

hc . trancy demons (black butler)

day thirty one ; degradation

os . “stupid bitch”

hc . philip whittebane / emperor belos (the owl house)

hc . angela blanc & ash landers (black butler)

[spotsandsocks]

🐺Wip Wednesday /chapter update 🐺 11/12

Tagged either on Tuesday or today by the crazily talented lovelies that live in my phone @exhuastedpigeon @thewolvesof1998 @eddiebabygirldiaz @rainbow-nerdss @wildlife4life @diazsdimples @honestlydarkprincess @elvensorceress @wildlife4life @pirrusstuff @daffi-990 @tizniz

so here’s a tease of the only wip I’m wiping right now cos I gotta get the last chapter of it done!!!

This is from the chapter I just published - not too spoilery 🤷🏻‍♀️

The Lost and The Found 9k

Chapter 11

Released, Doug moves fast, with words that carry in the darkness and send a chill through him.

“Changed my mind.”

And then he’s looking at the barrel of a gun pointed at his sister and Buck has only one choice, he spins around taking Maddie with him, sheltering her with his body, keeping her safe like he said he would ….

and a tiny bit of whats coming up in chapt 12 - unedited for now

Another nod from Ravi but Eddie just shakes his head.

I don’t understand.

Any particular bit you want me to start with?

Eddie thinks about that, yes.. “Why aren’t I dead?”

“Ah, good place to start.

Tagging anyone who wants to share @hoodie-buck @shortsighted-owl @buddierights @loserdiaz @fiona-fififi @rogerzsteven @spaceprincessem @disasterbuckdiaz @heartshapedvows @underwater-ninja-13 @wikiangela @stagefoureddiediaz @weewootruck @giddyupbuck @jesuisici33 @steadfastsaturnsrings @theplaceyoustillrememberdreaming @lover-of-mine @ronordmann

[lunaekalenda]

HORROR MOVIE NIGHT! feat. Diluc, Childe, Kaeya, Zhongli

a/n: I’ll try to update slowly again to adapt myself to publish everyday again! Hellow Hellow :D a little suggestive on kaeya's and also it's a little shitty just put a random prompt generator

Diluc:

As the TV reflected a big, bloody "The End", you searched quickly the remote to turn the Devil's machine off. With a sigh, Diluc left your side on the sofa, getting up on the dark living room, unable to walk due to your fingers jailing his t-shirt.

"What?" he asks, in low tone, looking at you (or so he thinks, you're totally deep in dark). You think twice about telling him, moving your legs on the sofa, making the remote fall and almost give you a heart attack. "You're scared, honey?" he asks, still quiet voice. "Wait, I'll go and turn the light..."

"No" you cut him. "Please, don't leave me alone on the couch. You saw what happened in the film..."

He leans towards the sofa, blindly searching your lips. It might be your connection or his senses to always find you, but he's kissing you softly, making your eyes close and forget anything you've seen the last two hours that could trigger you at night.

"Nothing is gonna happen, dear." he murmurs, lips touching yours as he talks. "I'm with you."

Childe:

He enjoys good horror films, and it makes it more difficult for you to watch them. Even when he insisted that you don't have to watch them if you don't like, you still want to accompany your boyfriend to the cinema to see all the new releases and the most scary ones, the ones with night entry and midnight exit. It's cold when you put a feet outside of the cinema, with Childe sighing by your side.

"It was good, but definitely not something to take away my sleep, don't you think, pretty?" You nod, making an effort to dissimulate the trembling of your legs and your sweaty hands, and trying to repress the impulse of looking around all the time, like an owl. Childe passes his arm around your shoulders, making you quiver in fear for a second. Then, he turns around, face to face, looking at you directly in the eyes.

"Thanks for accompanying me tonight. I know you don't like this films, and still, here you are. I will never thank you enough." his eyes are serious when he speaks, his hand searching yours and his cheeks blushing, maybe for the cold weather, maybe with pure adoration. "Let's go and have dinner in this 80's style place."

Taking his hand happily, you walk by his side, but his malevolent smile makes you suspect. His hand rests on your low back when he murmurs on your ear, sending a chill down your spine.

"Like the one where they killed the couple on the film, hm?"

Even tho he laughed and apologized almost a hundred times after it, now you're at home, lights all on, waiting for your funny boyfriend to finish the dinner he promised you to cook for such a disagreeable joke.

Kaeya:

Him? Scared? How is that even possible?

"You're scared" Kaeya looks offended towards your accusation. Is 2:50 AM when the film finishes and Kaeya turns on the side light. He looks – surreptitiously – to his surroundings before he finds an accusatory finger pointing at him. His cheeks get a little blushed before his usual cocky smile appears again.

"Me? No, babe. Making that accusation only leaves to one answer: You're the one scared." Still, he keeps looks from the side of his eye to the TV, now in pause, with still the fucking "Based on real facts." that is making him feel like throwing up, crying and leaving the country at the same time.

You turn the TV off and head to bed, with Kaeya behind you, turning all the possible lights on on his way. Light is faster than the monster, or that's what he wants to believe. After all, is there something faster than the light? He feels so secure with it, like having always an invisible friend that comes quick to your call.

One of the cats – probably – on the guest room makes a picture fall from the wall. It's an usual noise – this cat has already reached 4 of the 7 drawings hanging on the cream colored walls – but still, Kaeya corrected his theory about light and claimed that the monster was faster.

"Kaeya, come on. We're not that rich to leave every single light on. Go before me and I'll turn them down as I pass, ok?" Kaeya nods twice, trice, he doesn't know how to express the genuine gratitude that that simple phrase has put inside him. Still, he shows his flirty side.

"Going first gives me a little time to undress until you arrive, be ready."

Zhongli:

It doesn't matter if you get easily scared by horror films, because watching one with Zhongli is a whole new experience. Legs tangled and a bowl of popcorn in the middle of you, while your boyfriend keeps talking as the film continues.

"Like damn, I've seen the knife on the kitchen counter 5 times already, and you're fighting with fists because you want to."

"I'll never get why when a door looks like the other ones in horror films they all open them and act surprised when the monster is inside"

"This camera movements make me dizzy."

"Do you want to get pizza for dinner?"

"It's so predictable that the jumpscare is gonna be here, oh, there you see."

Actually, you think it's just the talkative personality of your boyfriend, but Zhongli is always caring that you're comfortable while watching this type of films. You do like watch whatever they're putting on TV on Saturday's with him and, honestly, your body releases the tension and the film looks less scary with every single comment Zhongli makes. That's why at night, both hugged under the covers and his mouth resting on your neck, you talk quietly.

"Thanks for the comic relief during the film. It really makes it a lot less scary."

He kisses your neck soflty, smiling against it.

"It's done, love. I hope they start to put the good films again."

"Oh, no..." Zhongli laughs quietly, getting on top of you.

"One rich girl moves to the countryside and learns to take care of cows, must be my favorite genre."

[ornii]

I don't know if you have a romance planned for My Bitter Half but I really hope it's Enid.

Hear me out: Y/N Addams is crushing hardcore in Enid but, like his sister, does not really speak from his mind or his heart. So all he can do is be happy as Enid chases after Ajax even though it's painful to paint a smile on his face because she's his best friend and he has to he happy for her regardless of how he feels.

I did plan on Enid ending up being the hall of sunshine in (Y/n)’s dark world, but yes much like his sister his ability to speak his feelings is, lacking.

My Better Bitter half, Part 4

“So, you two have aspirations correct? An author? And actor?” She says, Wednesdays novel seems to be fast growing, and (Y/n)‘a infamous career of acting has head him to be a prodigy of the stage.

“I understand you've written three novels about a teen girl detective, Viper De La Muerte.” Kinbott says

“Can you tell me about her?”

“Viper is smart, perceptive, chronically misunderstood.” Wednesday said.

“Any luck getting your work published?”

“Editors are short-sighted, fear-based life forms. One once described my writing as gratuitously morbid, and suggested I seek psychiatric help.”

“Hmm.” Kinbott notes the info and jots it down.

“Ironic, isn't it?” You say.

“How did you take that?” Kinbott said.

“I sent her a "thank you." I've always been open to constructive criticism.” Wednesday said, only god knows what fate had ended for the citric.

“I'm glad to hear that.” Kinbott said, “And (Y/n), your performance as the star actor of “Hamlet” and “Death of a Salesman.” Were amazingly well received.” Kinbott says, “But your… Performances We’re always a bit, overwhelming in energy.”

“I see that as an absolute win.” You say.

“Good Because I was sent manuscripts and videos as part of both of your psych evaluations.

The relationship I found most intriguing was that of Viper and her Brother, Asriel.” Kinbott Said, you slowly turn to Wednesday, who’s eyes quickly divert from your gaze. “And (Y/n), I watched a Stellar performance of yours in “The Piano Lesson.” Which tells the story of a Brother trying to convince his sister of selling a piano, and it seems your performance was, very impactful.” She says, the siblings grow uncomfortably quiet.

“Why don't we dig into that? Part of this journey requires us going to uncomfortable places emotionally.”

“I don't travel well.” Wednesday begins.

“I get car sick.” You say.

“Would you mind if I use the powder room first?” Wednesday says, and Kinbott nods, Wednesday leaves to the room and he and the therapist are alone.

“Now, (Y/n), I noticed that the play was heavily impacted by your performance. Perhaps you and Boy Willie have more in common?”

“He’s a character I play, nothing more.”

“Are you sure? You both might be older brothers trying to create a better future for your siblings, but fail short, and feel that you have to be perfect in every way, to feel that you’re worthy to be called a “Brother.” She says, (Y/n) stares coldly at her, trying not to show any emotion. He quickly stands up.

“A question, does that Bathroom have a window?” He asks.

“Yes?” Kinbott replies and (Y/n) growls a bit, he storms over to the door and grabs the handle.

“Uh.. (Y/n), your sister is—“

“No, she isn’t.” (Y/n) opens the door to show Kinbott that his sister has escaped, (Y/n) storms off to the door without another word. Exiting the building (Y/n)’s eyes search like an owl, his head twists around to search. The only thing he notices was a coffee place, and saw a shadowy figure enter the facility.

“You little—“ (Y/n) angrily walks over, after sharply bursting into the cafe his eyes quickly lock into his sister, who sits calmly at a booth. The two stare each other down and he slowly slithers over and sits across from her. They say absolutely nothing to each other for what seems to be an eternity.

“(Y/n)—“

“Silence.” He said, “i told you what I said at the entrance, your attempts to escape end here. If I have to watch you while you sleep so be it, but you will not step out of this school.”

“As amusing as it would be for you to try and stop me, I have more important things to do than Argue with an impudent child. It is my decision that you cannot make for me.”

The tension between the two grows more and more intense.

“Take one step out of Nevermore and I will Drag you back.”

“I’d loathe to see you try.”

The two are ready to burn Jericho to the ground in their squabble, luckily a trio of teenagers, dressed as pilgrims decide to draw the ire of the twins.

“Hey, boys, check it out.” One says, they finish their argument and turn to the three.

“What's a pair of Nevermore freaks doing out in the wild?” One says, “ This is our booth.” Another chimes in, rather take them seriously the duo do what they do best.

“Why are you dressed like religious fanatics?” Wednesday asks.

“We're pilgrims.”

“Same thing, murderous crusaders.” You say and Wednesday chimes in.

“Potato, Po-ta-to.” She says.

“We work at Pilgrim World.” One boy says. Annoyed.

“It takes a special kind of stupid to devote an entire theme park to zealots responsible for mass genocide.” Wednesday hardly jabs at them.

“My dad owns Pilgrim World.” One says.

“Wow. Making a theme part based off of Genocidal egomaniacs, that’s just stupid.” You say.,

“Are you calling is stupid?” One said.

“We’re you Not here for the first part of this conversation?” You respond. The trio slowly turn to you and you rise out of your booth.

“So tell me, freak... your sister ever been with a normie? Or is she all yours like all weirdos?” They laugh and (Y/n) folds his arms.

“Sorry i don’t participate in the same chromosome adding rituals that your parents did. Not my forte.” (Y/n) responds, and one boy has finally had enough. He swings with a punch which was caught effortlessly by (Y/n), who twists his arms. He kicks another halfway across the room. He slides along the ground and he hurls the other away. One leaps and puts him in the choke hold, (Y/n) hits him with an elbow straight im the rib cage, he begins to elbow him over and over, he lurches over, gasping for air and (Y/n) calmly slams his head into the table where Wednesday said, slightly enjoying the carnage. The three lie on the ground, spiraled.

“Good Talk everyone.” You say and sit back down across from Wednesday. “As I was saying, I will drag you back to Nevermore if you won’t go willingly.” (Y/n) says, before the doors open and is greeted by a middle aged man, the sheriff of these parts possibly.

“Dad!” The barista working there rushes over, and the sheriff turns to him.

“Tyler, the hell's going on in here?”

“They were harassing a customer, and he put them in their place.” Tyler says.

“This scrawny thing took down three boys?” The sheriff said.

“I don’t need help.” You say as you turn to The sheriff, suddenly Weems enters as well, seeing the mess.

“Apologies, Sheriff. These two slipped away from me.

Come on, Addams, time to go.” She says and the twins rise to leave.

“Wait a minute, hang on. You're both Addams? Don't tell me Gomez Addams is your father? That man belongs behind bars for murder. Guessin' the apple doesn't fall far from the tree. I'm gonna keep my eye on you two.” He says, the twins seem unbothered by this and leave with Weems. The drive back to Nevermore was a bit, colder.

“Your first day and you're already on Sheriff Galpin's radar. Wish I could say I was surprised.” Weems says.

“What did he mean about my father?” Wednesday asks.

“A Murderer, dear sister. It seems Nevermore has more hidden, wouldn’t you agree Principal Weems?” You say, and she seemingly acts oblivious.

“I have no idea, but a word of advice. Stop making enemies and start making a few friends. You're going to need them.” Weems said, their drive was halted by an accident further up, a crashed truck.

“Looks like an accident. I hope the driver's okay.” Weems said, peering further ahead, but an ominous energy radiates though the truck.

“He's dead. Broke his neck.” Wednesday said, almost sure of it, they finally drive by, seeing how scarily right she was. (Y/n) turned to his sister.

“How did you know? It wasn’t a lucky guess.” You say, and Wednesday simply turns her head back forward.

“There is Something i must Tell you, Brother.”

[deansapplepie]

Marchweres Day 4 - 5

Prompt: Cursed, Finding out

Pairing: Remus Lupin x Reader

Word Count: 1.5k

Warnings: non-sexual nudity, werewolf shifting, mentions of being sick, bruises and cuts, probably ooc Remus lil angsty but ends fluff. MINORS DO NOT INTERACT

A/N: I’m only writing for Daryl Dixon since last year, but there are ages that I have an idea about Remus and Sirius’ sister, but the idea is not this story I’m publishing now, but maybe they can be in the same world and that can be just the start. Remus is 20 in this one, therefore that’s why I’m using Andrew Garfield to represent him. I hope in the future I can bring “old” Remus here.

Not proof read.

It was dark times, the dark lord and his followers were unstoppable, killing and torturing muggle born and half-blood wizards and witches. You were part of the Order of The Phoenix and very often you’d need to reunite with all the others to talk about the next plans or missions.

The last thing your older brother wanted was for you to be involved in this, but both of you were already deep on it, being children of pure blood wizards that agreed to everything the dark lord was doing… Gods, you even had cousins that were death eaters. Being a Black wasn’t easy, specially when you were everything your family despised. At least you could stay at home, opposite as Sirius that was kicked out by your parents. There were still Regulus, but he was one of them… or at least you thought.

You pretended to not be involved in any of this, that you were in neither sides. You tried to be discreet so yours parents wouldn’t suspect. You were 18, had just gotten out of Hogwarts a year ago, your brother and his friends being 2 years older than you, the last years in Hogwarts were a little bit tedious to be honest. They were also your friends, and you missed their chaos all around the school, but now you could see them more often… specially because of the order pf the phoenix meetings.

Speaking of it… you noticed that he wasn’t in the last reunion. Remus wasn’t there, and by what you knew he wasn’t sent in any mission. You even asked Dumbledorre just to be sure, and he answered you with a smile and a mischief in his features that he didn’t. As soon as you got home you sent Remus an owl, asking if he would be home, you’d pay him a visit. The truth was, you had a crush on him, since you were 11 and as you got older is just became bigger and bigger, besides being one of your dearest friends, he always refused your investments and you never really understood. Of course he went out with other girls, but he never dated any of them, he looked you with so much tenderness that you thought it was impossible he didn’t like you back like you wished. But he didn’t. Remus looked at the world like this, he was someone so smart and good, and it was clear he struggled with something, but even like this he always looked at the world with love.

Some hours later you received an answer from him, a simple answer.

‘Don’t come, I’m sick.’

Did he really believe it would stop you from going to see him? Now, you NEEDED to see him. Why being all by himself, if he could have someone taking care of him? You changed your clothes, found some chocolate you had stored in your room and then apparated to his small cottage in the middle of the woods. His reclusion was too much sometimes, but that was your opinion and if he was happy like this, what were you supposed to do.

You walked to the front door and knocked on it. It was taking a while for him to open it and you were almost entering the house to see if he was good.

“What are you doing here?” You got startled by the angry voice that was normally so calm and contained.

“You said you are sick. I came to check on you.” You held the bag with chocolates firmly in your hands.

“I told you to not come…” he said greeted teeth.

The sky was getting darker and darker, soon the moon and the stars would appear.

“You shouldn’t be alone when you’re sick.”

“You shouldn’t be…” He started to say, but was cut by a wince of pain.

“Rem… what are you feeling? How can I help?” You touched his arms in comfort for his pain.

Another grunt of pain, he nearly snarled and stepped in your direction making you walk backwards. He put his hand in the door behind you. The moon was now high in the sky, a beautiful full moon, it would have been nice to appreciate it with him if he wasn’t feeling bad.

“Rem…”

“You shouldn’t have come!” He looked in your eyes , a hint of insanity on it… his face, it looked different. His nose seemed more pronounced than the normal, his ears more pointer… “Leave.”

“Rem, I don’t… understand.” You were scared, what was happening. If you didn’t know any better…

“LEAVE!” You were static, you had never seen him this aggressive. He wasn’t like that.

He pushed himself away from you, going to the middle of the patio. You couldn’t move as you watched him curve himself in pain as his body changed.

“Go! Go inside!” You didn’t move, you couldn’t as you watched your friend turning into a werewolf.

When the change finished and he howled at the moon, was the moment you woke up from your trance. You turned around and opened the door getting in. You locked the door behind you and observed as he disappeared into the woods.

You didn’t notice when you fell asleep… you kept sat by the window observing the darkness worried about him. You glanced at the sky a few times observing the moon and the stars, and at some point you fell asleep.

You woke listening to soft knocks on the door. You opened your eyes, the morning light blinding you. When you looked around you and noticed you were not home, you came back to your senses. ‘Remus’, you thought.

You ran to the door, opening it as quickly as you could. When you opened you were faced with an exhausted naked Remus, he had some cuts on his skin and you couldn’t care less the man you loved was naked in front of you, your priority was to take care of him. The look on his hazel and eyes were heartbreaking, you tried to get to him and help him inside, but he entered without your help avoiding contact with you.

Before you could say anything to him, he started to talk. “Are you happy now that you know my secret? You couldn’t stay away when I told you to. Now you know I’m a monster! Someone cursed with lycanthropy, a danger to everyone around.”

“Remus… you’re not a monster.” You said, taking a blanket from the couch and wrapping it around him. “You’re just Remus. This isn’t something you choose because you’re evil, I don’t know the story, I just found out, but I know it was probably an accident.”

“Aren’t you disgusted? Aren’t you afraid of me? I could hurt you.” He observed while he studied your face. Now that man speaking sounded more like your Remus, he wasn’t angry anymore, at least not as much as he was before. He seemed relieved, calm… sorta worried, but just Remus.

“I would never have any of these negative feelings towards you. I know you since I was eleven, we’ve known each other for years. I know you aren’t evil. You’d never hurt me, till the last minute you were trying to tell me to go to safety.” You got closer to him, your hands cupped his face while you saw all the bruises and cuts he had. You ran your fingers through his hair and he closed his eyes at such tenderness. “Do the boys know?”

“Yes.” He confirmed and opened his eyes. “Don’t fight them, I asked them to not tell you.”

“You shouldn’t. If I knew, I could have been preparing Wolfsbane potions for you. It would be a little better for you of you could keep your human mind when you changed. You know I’m good at it, I can do it.”

“I’m sorry, I was afraid you’d be scared of me and wouldn’t want to be my friend anymore.” He trembled a little effect of his shifting and the long night he had.

You directed him to the sofa and made him sit. “I’d never not like you or be scared of you.” You stood in front of him and caressed his cheek. “Take some rest, I’m going to make something for you to eat. If you eat everything, I may give you the chocolate I brought for you.” You smiled at him and curved to give him a kiss on his face. His heart skipped a beat, he had had a crush on you for ages, but even with your brother telling him he should make a move and date you, he’d never put you on that risk, not even now that you knew everything. For him, having your sweet friendship was already enough…

Wanna be added to my tag list? Let me know. (Please tell me if you want to be tagged on everything or just specific series)

mdni banner by @cafekitsune

Cute paw divider by @lazyneonrabbitt

[smilingformoney]

Happy 63rd Birthday to our favourite dungeon bat!

To celebrate, I’ve written a lil something about Snape’s 63rd birthday, which he definitely spent alone and not surrounded by love. Honest.

Even after so many years, Severus wasn’t sure he would ever get used to this.

The war had been over for a long time now. In fact, later that year would mark the 25th anniversary of the final battle against the Dark Lord, when he had been defeated at last and the wizarding world had begun to know some semblance of peace.

Despite Severus’ protestations, Harry Potter had made it his mission to let the world know what his grumpy old Potions teacher had done for the world. He had even gone so far as to name his second son after him. And ever since, the two men who had once been enemies now had something of a friendship. Severus had attended Potter’s wedding to Ginny Weasley, and occasionally allowed the odd Christmas visit.

After recovering from the near-fatal snake bite he had been inflicted during the battle, Severus had moved into a small house of his own, isolated from the world and with plenty of garden space, just how he liked it. He could grow his ingredients, brew his potions and write his books in peace.

It had been Potter who had suggested Severus publish his improved potion recipes, and Severus soon discovered he enjoyed writing books; it was a lot easier to teach when he couldn’t be interrupted. He could simply write the information, and dunderhead students could do with it as they wished without bothering him.

And so, despite his desire to stay hidden from the world, Severus had become something of a well-known writer, and somehow, even over ten years since his last publication, he still received well wishes on his birthday from fans of his work.

Most of the letters he awarded a cursory glance before being tossed aside. He was in the process of sifting through the letters when a knock came at the door. With a great sigh, Severus lifted himself from his armchair and made his way to the door as slowly as he could, hoping that if he took his time, the visitor would go away.

No such luck. On his doorstep was none other than Potter himself.

Severus sighed. “Yes?”

“Morning, Professor. Happy birthday.”

Over 25 years, and Potter still insisted on calling him Professor. To make up, he claimed, for all the years he spent disrespectfully dismissing his title.

“It was until you arrived. What do you want?”

Potter smiled, apparently blissfully unaware of Severus’ attitude.

“I just wanted to give you your birthday present.” Potter held up a neatly wrapped parcel, which his wife had almost certainly wrapped for him - Potter’s wrapping skills were about as proficient as that of potion-making.

Severus eyed the package suspiciously. Potter always sent his presents by owl, or delivered them along with a Christmas present in December.

“It won’t explode, I promise. Kept it away from George especially.”

With a reluctant sigh, Severus took the present. “Thank you, I suppose,��� he grumbled. “Am I expected to invite you in?”

“Only if you want to.”

“Well, I don’t.”

Potter chuckled. “Well, alright then. Happy birthday, Professor.”

He turned and left to apparate away, leaving Severus in peace with a ridiculous box. He shut the door and returned to his well-worn armchair. He groaned when he saw the pile of letters still waiting to be opened.

Still, he supposed he should open Potter’s present. As he unwrapped the layer of paper, he began to realise that the box was cold from more than just the January air - it seemed to be under the effects of a cooling spell.

“What have you done, Potter?” Severus muttered as he waved his wand to open the box and lift out the contents. Frozen in suspended animation to prevent damage, in addition to the cooling spell to prevent melting, was a blancmange.

Severus stared at the dessert for a few moments, taken aback. He realised then that a note was floating alongside it, which read:

Dear Professor Snape,

A little birdie told me this was your favourite. Even after all these years, there’s always more to learn about you.

Stop by for tea soon, won’t you?

- Harry, Ginny, James, Albus and Lily

No, actually, he wasn’t getting emotional. He was irritated, and anyone who tells you otherwise is a liar attempting to sully the name of Severus Snape. He was a grumpy, irritable recluse. He wasn’t friends with Harry Potter, and he certainly wasn’t constantly taken aback by the kindness shown to him by a man who had every right to hate him.

Severus Snape spent his birthdays alone, just as he liked it, and on pain of death he would never swear otherwise.

…Oh, alright.

But don’t tell anyone.

[acoupofowls]

Other Worlds: An Anthology of Diverse Short Fiction

Short stories by writers from marginalised and/or underrepresented communities or backgrounds exploring the theme of "Other Worlds"

KICKSTARTER NOW LIVE and SUBMISSIONS OPEN!

Other Worlds is the second print anthology brought to you by A Coup of Owls Press - home of online quarterly anthologies from creators from marginalised and/or underrepresented communities or backgrounds.

As a follow-up to Other & Different, which explored what it is to be othered, Other Worlds will be an exploration of places, situations, communities, etc, that are other. These might be actual other worlds in a science or speculative fiction genre, or a community, or a situation in the historical or modern world that feels or is made to feel alien. Encompassing a variety of styles and genres, Other Worlds will feature stories focused on the theme of being part of those othered communities - however the writers wish to interpret that.

THE STORIES

We are thrilled to confirm that we have invited five fantastic authors to contribute to Other Worlds, and our submissions for the remaining stories are open from 1st October to 15th November 2023. 

For more submissions guidelines and to submit, check out our submissions page.

Eve Morton:  Strange people with strange purposes gather in Haven (Science Fiction).

Eve Morton is a poet, professor, and parent living in Waterloo, Ontario. She likes coffee, short stories, and horror movies--in that order.  Weblinks: website

Previous publications include: A Coup of Owls, Other Stories Podcast and Third Flatiron Publishing

Victor Okechukwu: A post-civil war community feels cut off from the rest of Nigeria when a woman's only son enters a train to Jos but  may not return (Modern Nigerian Lit). 

Victor Okechukwu is a writer based in Lagos, Nigeria. His writing takes a deep setting in arresting issues of mental health that have been overlooked in his country. He's an Associate Prose Editor at Zerotic Press and is reading mass communication at the University of Nigeria, Nsukka. Weblinks: Twitter

Previous publications include: Gordon Square Review, Mycelia, Door-is-a-jar, and Rigorous Magazine

Von Reyes: Violence and intimacy become blurred and life might just be worth fighting for amongst a community of underground fighters (Speculative Fiction).

Von Reyes is an emergent fiction author, focused on uplifting the intersections of queer and trans masculinity and Asian diasporic identity. He focuses on genre fiction with themes of surrealism, queer sexuality, existentialism, and optimistic nihilism. He is passionate about creating a more socially conscious world where care for each other is at the core of all that we do. He hopes to tell stories that don't shy away from the horrors, but allows us to find the light within them. When he isn't writing, he can usually be found chasing the ocean and his next iced coffee.  Weblinks: website

Previous publications include: The Good Men Project. Forthcoming in Chill Mag.

Zachary Rosenberg:  A Jewish soldier and rancher must contend with mysterious monsters to build the home he longs for (Horror Western).

Zachary Rosenberg is a horror writer living in Florida. He crafts horrifying tales by night and by day he practices law, which is even more frightening. His debut novella Hungers as Old As This Land is out now from Brigids Gate Press and his second, The Long Shalom, is available from by Off Limits Press. Weblinks: Twitter

Previous publications include: Dark Matter Magazine, The Deadlands, and the Magazine of Fantasy and Science Fiction.

Samir Sirk Morató: When an Appalachian community clashes with their neighbors—a grove of sentient, dying chestnut trees—tragedy strikes (Horror).

Samir Sirk Morató is a scientist, artist, and flesh heap. They are also a 2022 Brave New Weird shortlister and a F(r)iction Fall 2022 Flash Fiction finalist. Samir spends most of their time tending to their cacti and contemplating the nature of meat. Weblinks: Twitter, Instagram, and website

Previous publications include: Neon Hemlock, bodyfluids, Catapult, and Seize the Press.

COVER ART

We can't wait to share with you the amazing cover art currently being created by amazing artist @pangaeastarseed.

Pangaea is a life-long artist and resident of the DC suburbs. A freelance illustrator with 20+ years experience, Pan’s work focuses on figure work and visual narratives utilizing the exploration of queerness, food as a love-language, and colors influenced by their florid synaesthesia.

Pangaea’s previous work includes custom illustration commissions and tattoo designs for clients; Starseed, an original gay-porn-space-opera comic, The Alien Dick Coloring Book, sketchbook zines Cardassia Prime and Cardassia Kotok, and the Washington DC-variant poster design of The Lambda Literary Awards 2022.

Portfolio: https://www.pangaeaillustrations.com/

WHY KICKSTARTER?

We want to ensure that we produce the high quality product that we know we can! Whilst design, layout and formatting happens in-house, Kickstarter funds will help cover pay for our authors, cover artist and editor. 

REWARDS

Add Ons!

We have a variety of extras available in the add-ons, from extra copies to special collected editions.  Whilst we've tried to create reward tiers to suit everyone, the add-ons will better allow you to mix and match to your preference! 

Our own @maxturnerwrites is once more offering some of his own work at discounted prices for supporters.

STRETCH GOALS!

£1000 : at £1000 we will add an Other Worlds bookmark for each physical backer

£1250 : at £1250 we will add an A5 print of cover art (without title) to each physical backer, and an e-copy of the same to each e-backer

£1500 : at £1500 we will add an Other Worlds tote bag for each physical backer

[foggypeacestrawberry]

Dragonfish Reloaded

I continue the story of the WaterFireGod, for part 1 click here

(1) Remember the gate, where the humanoid aliens came through?:

(2) It changed a lot after them humanoids arived -

(3) The second invasion started at dawn. It all happened very fast:

Some very mighty guards came through the gate...

(4) ...and them tiny fragile blossoms, that arrived earlier with the humanoids, grew within seconds into all kinds of - plants?! :

(5) At the same time, a second gate opened…

(6) … spitting out some more "visitors"…

(7) … all kinds of pretty agressive fellas!

(8) The whole garden of our little unnamed sim changed into a nightmare.

Well, he called them, and they came, right?

(9) They forced him to sit down and stay put on an alienesh-crystal-stone-stool-thingy…

(10) …and startet talking…

(11) … to their GOD! The WaterFireGod. Our well known dragonfish.

(12) Then they told our little unnamed sim, that they will return to their home planet through that portal, together with their god...

(13) … right after they solved this kind-a-tricky problem, that they just learned about from the little fish - sry, your highness, of course -

(14) Turns out, unfortunatly they can not just kill the sim, and leave with their god, as they intended…

(15) … because their god can not survive without our little unnamed sim, due to the bond that exists between them. This bond must be broken of course. Or else!

(16) (Moment of akward silence)

(17) They startet negotiating. Meanwhile it was bright daylight.

(18) They discussed during the whole day…

(19) …and also the whole next night.

(20) It turned out, there is more to the good old dragonfish than we ever imagined:

When he spits fire unterwater, while living with a sim that he has a very special bond with, the fire sinks down on the ground, and turnes into gold.

And you know what they say about dragons… they protect treasure.

Next time I will tell you:

What kind of bond the sim + the dragonfish do have,

what the sim is doing with all this gold?!,

and what the "Fisch des Grauens*" has to do with all that

ITS YOUR TURN NOW!

I want you to have the option to influence the story. You can choose 1 of these 3 options, what you want me to put into the story next:

No 1 - Someone will die

OR

No 2 - No one will die

OR

No 3 - Something will happen that has to do with owls.

Just write it into the comments until the End of April, then we will wrap it up and count the voices for 1/2/3!

* Please someone tell me how this fish is called in English, I couldn´t figure that out! (the dark-greenish fella living in the ponds of graveyards, killing all other fishes, and that can be used for prolonging live) - Or maybe I´ll just make up a new name for it :-D , you can recognize it anyway by the pictures I will take then.

The mods I used here for the first time:

Asparagus densiflorus, from alex_stanton1983

Lotus Lamp, from 4Sims

Floor-Lamp Skoll, from sim_man123

From @murfeelee :

TW3 Archespore Miniset

Skyrim Blackreach Giant Mushrooms as Outdoor Lights Miniset

AMR Small Plants Group

Junk Pile as Coin Pile

Deniisu_TS4 to TS3 RoM Rug Medallion as Floor Light

Thank you, @murfeelee! Love your stuff since I played the first time with the telvanni-village, and that was on my old computer (meanwhile, this computer I´m using now is pretty old).

I will also continue the 10-things-challange, weeks ago I already picked the items for the next round - but at the moment, I want to finish that alien-story first!

And yes, I still have to finish the sorting of my mod-collection. That has highest priority, not just because I want to continue playing, but also because of this 10-things-challange I started. For both I need a well-sorted, richly filled mod-folder (lol).

Well. The last weekend I spend downloading nearly everything that Murfeelee ever published :-D ! Just the sorting of this murfeelee-collection alone will take a week, or two, or whatever it takes :-D.

I started yesterday evening with the Letter A. Today I will do the B… like in "babysteps". Like in "Baby Yoda as Teddybear", that is the first mod beginning with a "B" in my murfeel-folder.

Just imagine, this green little fella, how well he would have fit in my alien-story, if I would have known this mod a week before.

You all have a good time :-)

Oh NO now I need to do the tagging. I still have NO clue how that really works here on tumblr, although I always watch you other simmers out there, and try to get it.

[faeriecinna]

Get To Know Me Tag

Thank you @whatwewrotepodcast for the tag!

Are you named after anyone?

Nope, though I was going to be named Cinnamon after the MC from my Dad's debut novel.

When was the last time you cried?

This morning. I cry at everything and this morning my work pals were being extra lovely so I had a lil sob </3

Do you have kids?

Not yet.

What sports do you/have you played?

I used to play basketball and volleyball, dance, and I was a champion shot putter. Now I just run and do circuits.

Do you use sarcasm?

All the damn time /srs

What's the first thing you notice about somebody?

Usually their outfit ngl

Eye color?

Dark brown

Scary movies or happy endings?

Scary movies 1000000% I've been watching horror films since I popped out of the womb.

Any talents?

I'm a phenomenal baker if I do say so myself. I can draw pretty well too and I'm pretty good at tattooing myself :)

Where were you born?

England :/

Hobbies?

Being a plant parent, writing, DnD, hiking and being a menace.

Any pets?

3 dogs (Candy the Rottweiler, Bronx the French Bulldog and Mowgli the Border Collie)

3 cats (Dexter and Ziggy the Tuxedos and Benji the Tabby)

and a Bengal Eagle Owl called Tayah :)

Height?

5'4"

Favorite subject?

English Combined, Theatre Studies, Fine Art

Dream job?

I wanna own my own bakery cafe and eventually be a published author

I simply am not going to tag 15 accounts because I don't want to bother that many people lmao </3 no pressure tags as always x

@surroundedbypearls @ryns-ramblings @theeccentricraven @ladywithalamp @rickie-the-storyteller