#Meadow Mice

[askwhatsforlunch]

Foraging, Growing and Gardening Tip: Elder Leaf Decoction

One problem I did not realise I had in the Kitchen Garden, was rodents. It seems silly really, that it didn’t occur to me sooner, for that might have explained the utter disaster of last year’s garden pea crop and why every time I have been sowing in the Lasagna Garden and parsnips and turnips and salsify started sprouting, their tiny leaves (actually cotyledons) were eaten the next day, the soil showing visible signs of trampling. But it wasn’t until I actually saw a little vole (or was is a mouse?) dashing down the edge of the Veg Patch and into the neighbour’s gardnen that I understood the damage! 

What to do then? I would certainly not use traps or anything that would kill them. But I can’t let them spoil my efforts with their greed. Another time, I saw a couple of them perilously hang over the bucket of Nettle Soup, to drink from it! So, watering my growing seedlings with it, as I do, doesn’t seem to deter them.

Thus, I read, and found that they find the smell of boiled elder leaves particularly repulsive, and that a decoction made with those is also a great natural fertiliser! Two birds with one stone, then! I picked up my basket and went to the woods.

I found “my” elder trees, and cut a few --berry-free, I shall come back in the Summer when they are black and ripe, and forage a few to make jam!-- branches full of leaves (see there, how to identify black elders (sambucus nigra) and how to make Elderflower Cordial too!)

Back home, I removed the leaves from the branches and weighed them. 200 grams/7 ounces of elder leaves, which I put into a large pot and covered with 4 litres/4 quarts of water. I let them soak for twenty-four hours.

After a day of saoking, I put the pot on the stove over a medium flame, and covered with a lid. After the first boil, I let the mixture simmer for half an hour. Then, removed the lid, increased the heat to medium-high, and let it boil for another fifteen minutes. It does have a rather unpleasant smell, so I hope it will be efficient. I removed from the heat and let the mixture cool completely, and soak a little longer overnight.

The following day, I strained it thoroughly, keeping the boiled leaves. It makes about 2.25 litres/4.7 pints Elder Leaf Decoction.

Then,  poured the Elder Leaf Decoction in a garden pump sprayer, and sprayed it all over the Kitchen Garden, over the growing garden pea and sugar snap pea seedlings, over the and the, over the beetroots, and the freshly planted kale seedlings, over the potatoes, over the Beans and the Squashes, and over the sprouting Parsnips, turnips and salsify and the Bell Peppers in the Lasagna Garden. I used the boiled leaf to make a border around the garden pea and sugar snap pea beds, in addition to my Slug-Repelling Coffee Ground borders!

I have some leftover, so I shall do it again, if necessary. When the peas and beans I’v just sown directly are sprouting, for instance. This Decocotion is as good for the vegetables as it is unpalatable to rodents apparently. Here’s hoping!

#Growing and Gardening #Elder Leaf Decoction #Elder Leaf Decoction recipe #Elder Leaves #Elders #Elder Tree #Black Elder #Sambucus nigra #Foraging #Foraging Tip #Natural Fertiliser #Natural Fertiliser recipe #Rodent Repellent #Rodent Repellent recipe #Rodents #Voles #Mice #Meadow Mice #Gardening #Gardening Tip #Gardening Tips #Growing #Growing Tip #Growing Tips #Growing Vegetables #Kitchen Garden #Veg Patch #Vegetable Patch #Lasagna Garden #Garden

[antiqueanimals]

Grzimek's Animal Life Encyclopedia, vol. 11, Mammals II. 1972.

1.) Northern birch mouse (Sicista betulina)

2.) Meadow jumping mouse (Zapus hudsonius)

3.) Woodland jumping mouse (Napaeozapus insignis)

4.) Thick-tailed pygmy jerboa (Salpingotus crassicauda)

5.) Five-toed pygmy jerboa (Cardiocranius paradoxus)

6.) Northern three-toed jerboa (Dipus sagitta)

7.) Lesser Egyptian jerboa (Jaculus jaculus)

8.) Five-toed jerboa (Allactaga sp.)

#rodents #northern birch mice #meadow jumping mice #woodland jumping mice #thick-tailed pygmy jerboas #five-toed pygmy jerboas #northern three-toed jerboas #lesser egyptian jerboas #five-toed jerboas

[lhazaar]

crowbar dropped a live mouse in my bed at 4am this morning just so he could hunt it under my body pillow so if anyone wants a free cat—

#bark bark #crowbar #cats #i caught it and let it go in a nearby meadow where we keep releasing the house mice lol

[picturebookshelf]

Emily's House (1991)

Story: Niko Scharer -- Art: Joanne Fitzgerald

Canadian

#emily's house #canadian #canlit #1990s #90s #animals #mice #cats #cows #sheep #goats #i love this style of book #same reason i love farmer joe's hot day #i love a cunny solution and a bit of trickery #kid books #kidlit #children's books #picture books #meadow mouse books

[lyome]

little angel.

fyodor did well by sheltering his childhood love, and then she ran away. but it's alright, he'll bring her right back. yan!fyodor x gn!reader, mild dazai x gn!reader but they're meant to be platonic tags/warnings: captivity, reader gets tortured!!! stockholm syndrome, years and years of manipulation, gaslighting(kinda), violence, blood, and permanent injury done to the reader, plsss read with caution

To him, you were his one and only love. You were the ideal he wanted to create. A weak, fickle human that devotedly clung to him. You provided him with that first taste of Godhood. He could pluck adoration off your lips and feel divinity in your touch.

And then you betrayed him.

And then you betrayed him.

You, his first follower. His first believer. His Eve. 

For all of Fyodor’s wisdom, his beliefs served as a terrible blind spot. He never even suspected it. To him, your life was perfect. You were his crowned follower, his one and only, you sat in pretty apartments and watched as the mice brought ruin to the world. Nothing ever affected you in your pretty glass cage. Nothing except the devil’s delusions. 

His insanity had seeped into your own mind. At first, you did admire him. He was Fyodor, your protector. Hunger felt smaller when he was there, his body warm against yours as you huddled together during those ugly rainy nights. Both of you have seen the worst side of the world. You’ve watched it burn at the hands of those ability users Fyodor despised so viciously. He taught you hatred. And you always clung to it.

Everyone except Fyodor is bad. 

That was the belief he instilled in you. And then Dazai found you, an eccentric brunette man with a myriad of bandages and scars. He had thought the lush apartment was Fydor’s. Never had Dazai assumed Fyodor would cherish someone. But you were worthless, with no ability or connections or even common sense. It seemed that you were tailor made for Fyodor. Shoved in a cage and left to wait for your God’s return.

At the time you were terrified. Fyodor hadn’t let you speak to anyone for years. The moment that he could establish himself as this omnipotent God, he made sure you were isolated. He’d come back depicting how terrifying the bleak outside world is. It wasn’t hard to believe. You grew up in the slums of Russia, you’ve already seen the worst. It wasn’t difficult to convince you that every corner of the world was equally terrible. Every piece and country and meadow would give you nothing but torment. You could only be happy with Fyodor.

So why did your world feel so empty?

“My, this is uncomfortable,” Dazai joked. He was awfully casual for someone who had just broken in. You huddled against the window, knees to your chest, fully focused on the opened doors. For all your years here, you couldn’t have ever opened them. You assumed it was the tools that you lacked. Or maybe you were too stupid for it. But you've never seen them opened by anyone except Fyodor.

“Do you own this place, miss?”

“No,” you whispered. Fyodor never prepared you for this. Fyodor told you no one would find you. He said it was a good thing. You lost your safety now. The glass cage has been broken.

“Do you know who does?”

Silence. 

Dazai sighed, you were obviously terrified. He couldn’t even catch your eyes. But you also made no move to stop him as he looked around, examining all the objects about the place. That served as enough confirmation. Fyodor’s clothes were visible inside the wardrobe, and there was even a note left on the kitchen countertop signed in his lovely name. It was in Russian, so Dazai couldn’t quite judge the contents. He only knew the signature.

So why did the demon keep a little lamb locked away? Dazai had yet to learn just how worthless you are, so he kept his distance. It wasn’t improbable that you might just be a weapon more deadly than the Demon himself.

But it was you who spoke next, voice quivering. “How did you open the doors?”

“Hm, why should I tell you?”

Your head echoed your greatest fear. Fyodor is right. People are horrible. He won't tell me anything out of kindness.

Dazai had walked closer now. He was growing less and less certain that you were a threat. In fact, you shrinked further away from him. Body pressed against the glass of your gable window. “I’ll answer your question,” he announced slowly, “If you answer one of my own. But you have to be honest.” He was looking down at you.

It took you a moment to give him a nod. “Okay.”

“Why are you here with Fyodor?”

You were surprised that he knew about the raven haired Demon, the shock visible all across your face. But the deals a deal, and you desperately wanted to know the path he took towards this place. So you can recreate it and finally see this wretched world Fyodor took from you. You needed to see it for yourself. Even if you might end up crawling back to him.

“I’ve always been with him. We just move around a lot. He says it’s dangerous.”

“Yes, but why does he keep you here?”

“Because it’s dangerous? Isn’t the entire world half ruined?”

“By what?”

“I don’t know. Fyodor only said it’s ruined. And dangerous. He always says that word: dangerous.”

Dazai began to understand a little more about you now. You weren’t strong, you were shaking at the sight of someone, and what’s more the apartment gave away your relationship too easily. The single bed, shared dresser, and perfumed notes. Dazai had just found someone even the insane Fyodor loved.

“Now my question, please. How did you get in here?”

“Want me to show you?”

Maybe you shouldn’t have trusted him. But Dazai’s smile was as sick as Fyodor’s, and in your poor tormented head that was a trustworthy thing. He’s like Fyodor, it means he’s smart and caring and all those bad things he does are done out of love. 

It’s funny how your rotten love for Fyodor helped you escape. Guiding you to mouth a desperate yes and allow for this unknown man to let you walk freely again. 

For all your life, you’ve had Fyodor on your shoulder. Through the good and the bad, he was there. In the past you loved him. But now, you saw beyond his lies. The world Dazai had shown you was beautiful. The sun shone on smiling and happy faces. People went about their day without a care in the world. There was nothing wrong here.

Fyodor lied. And you were finally free from the doubt he seeped in you. 

And then the Devil himself ascended to bring you back. You were just going about your day, enjoying the life Dazai had breathed into you. He was kind, and his kindness wasn’t sharp like Fyodor’s. He even let you occupy his tiny apartment. So the mornings were your time to cook, clean, and explore the city. You never expected to see Fyodor out of the corner of your eye. Smiling. Waiting.

You didn’t want to go back. His face served as nothing but an ugly reminder of how blinded you were by him. His bird, his dove, his caged angel. You never asked for any of that. He just swept you up in his arms and kept you in place before either of you was old enough to even think properly. You didn’t know any better. Fyodor used to be all you had.

He didn’t bother approaching you. He was in no rush. As days passed all he’d do is simply walk by you, cold eyes meeting your own. He loved the confusion on your face. The terror and insecurity in whether you’ve made the right decision or not.

And just as you were on the verge of snapping, begging Dazai to not leave you alone, something just had to come up. Dazai was needed, and you couldn’t take up his time. It felt wrong to repay him by more silly burdens. So you never told him why you were terrified. You simply let him go.

The next time you awoke, after a lonely night in the now empty apartment you shared, it was because of a sharp pain across your legs. Something was wet, but you couldn’t see. The world was dark and terrifying and you felt just as Fyodor had described you would. You couldn’t feel your legs. They hurt and the blood felt sticky and you couldn’t stop shaking.

Someone had cut the tendons near your ankles. You didn’t know it then, but you’ve just lost the ability to walk. And who took that from you? Who brought you such a horrible fate?

“You’ve just had to run, zaychik.” 

Bunny. 

Fyodor had called you bunny as he stripped you of your ability to run. You were on the floor, the cobblestone of this unknown place felt icy against your cheek. Everything hurt. Fyodor had pampered you too much, you realised. Things like hunger and pain which were so familiar to you as a child had become unknown. Had you always cried so much over the seeping pain, or had Fyodor planned for this too? Another piece of his sadistic game?

His foot clashed against your head. Heel digging into your cheek. Your head throbbed.

“I’ve given you everything. You had all the pretty things you used to dream of! And you repay me by running to that heretic’s side? What good are you now! You used to be perfect. Mine. Untainted. You let that disgusting dog ruin you.”

As Fyodor spoke, he’d keep moving his foot up and down. You felt your consciousness slipping again. It hurt so much. The blood, the shock, the throbbing, the darkness. Your blindfolded eyes couldn't even help you discern left from right.

Was it so bad to dream? What was wrong with you now? Fyodor was never like this. He was never angry with you. The Fyodor you knew was gentle and warm, he kept you safe. He told you that you were safe. Maybe what he meant during all those years was that you were safe from him. And Dazai Osamu had taken that safety from you.

Fyodor kept you in a large, lush bed from then on. You couldn’t walk, and Dazai had never broken in again. You don’t know what happened with him. You were too scared to ask Fyodor. Things were never the same after your escape. He allowed you less food and kept you weak. To him, your fragile body was the last thing keeping you desirable. Sometimes you’d cry at night, overtaken by guilt and regret and hatred for your predicament. On those nights the old Fyodor might’ve held you and whispered words of reassurance to you. 

This, dark and vile, Demon only slapped you until you’d stop. Numbing your sadness with terror.

Fyodor’s love was never pretty, but you missed his kinder side dearly. At least then, you didn’t have to endure the horrors that he inflicted on so many others. Suddenly, you became just another victim of his. Not a childhood friend or secret lover, you were his victim. 

And that's all you'd ever have in life. Fyodor and his cruelties.

#bungou stray dogs fyodor #bungou stray dogs #bsd #bsd x reader #bsd x gender neutral reader #bungou stray dogs x reader #fyodor x y/n #fyodor x reader #dazai x reader #fanficiton #yandere fyodor #captivity #fyodor x you #gaslighting #manipulation #lyomes moon

[choicesbookclub]

12 Days of Choices Special Event

Not sure who is planning to participate, but I figured I'd start this thread to talk about it and share info for anyone that is playing.

If you find the hidden item, please share where and when (what chapter + scene)! All clues and hints welcomed. I'll try to update this post with whatever info I see so that it's all in one place for anyone checking in quick!

Day One: December 12

Book: Mother of the Year

Chapter 1

Scene: MC's daughter has the option for the uniform. The Partridge in a Pair Tree is on the stairs in the background.

Day Two: December 13

Book: The Duchess Affair

Hint: In chapters 1-3

Chapter: beginning of chapter 2

Scene: The location is the breakfast room, in front of the large painting and next to the Christmas tree.

Thanks @lizzybeth1986

Day Three: December 14

Book: Bachelorette Party

Hint: "3 French hens, 3 blind mice, 3 is the number you'll want to check twice "

Chapter 3

Scene: The Abracadabra Lounge, right at the front of the room.

Thanks @lizzybeth1986

Day Four: December 15

Book: The Cursed Heart

Hint: "You didn't hear this from me, but it's in a prime number chapter greater than 3!"

Helpful Math: Prime Numbers include: 5,7,11,13,17,19

Chapter 5

Scene: At the stables talking to Sir Montgomery, perched on the ceiling

Thanks @lizzybeth1986

Day Five: December 16

Book: Ms. Match

Hint: "Five Gold Rings: Starting from the left, which finger is your ring finger? 🖐️"

Chapter 2

Scene: walking home from the bar with jack, they very impressively transformed a building

Thanks @alasforher

Day Six: December 17

Book: Untameable

Hint: "Six Geese A-Laying: (four) The perfect amount of geese to have is four! 🪿"

Chapter 4

Scene: The stables, at the very beginning of the chapter.

Thanks, @lizzybeth1986

Day Seven: December 18

Book: The Unexpected Heiress

Hint: "Seven Swans A-Swimming: You'll spot them right away! 🏊"

Chapter 1

Scene: On the ship, immediately after the MC is introduced and says goodbye to her mother and brother.

Thanks, @lizzybeth1986

Day Eight: December 19

Book: Slow Burn

Hint: "Eight Maids A-Milking: You'll only need two maids to get this job done. 🥛"

Chapter 2

Scene: Bunting when you are first in the New Orleans ‘Hushpuppys’ restaurant

Thanks, @alasforher

Day Nine: December 20

Book: Queen B

Hint: "Nine Ladies Dancing: You'll need to be FOURtunate to find this item! 💃"

Chapter 4

Scene: At the sports field on Kickoff Day

Thanks, @lizzybeth1986

Day Ten: December 21

Book: Laws of Attraction

Hint: "Ten Lords A-Leaping: These lords are leaping VERY early on. 💯"

Chapter 1

Scene: Sadie McGraw's office

Thanks, @lizzybeth1986

Day Eleven: December 22

Book: Wake the Dead

Hint: "Eleven Pipers Piping: You'll need five fingers to play this pipe. 🖐️"

Chapter 3

Scene: Second scene in Red Meadows Cabin discussing the surge, after the upstairs has been cleared

Thanks, @alasforher

Day Twelve: December 23

Book: Roommates with Benefits

Hint: "Twelve Drummers Drumming: These drummers are marching in twos. 🥁"

Chapter 3

Scene: Opening party scene in the dorm room

Thanks, @alasforher

More to Come

*Note, according to PB, you don't have to click on the item or do anything special, once you past that scene/chapter, the app will remember it and the rewards will be granted at the end of the event.

*Rewards will be granted on 12/26 at 11 AM PST

#choices #playchoices #choices game #choices book club #mother of the year #the duchess affair #bachelorette party #the cursed heart

[abstractednotebook]

Slavic Spring Deities (Post no.1)

Vesna and Kresnik (Vesnik)

Vesna

(VEES-nah) “Lady Spring”, “Lady of Spring Resurrection”, or “The White Maiden of May”

There are about 15 other names for this deity, the ones that I will focus on in this post in particular are:

Vesna

Name that means Spring

Derived from the Proto-Indo-European “wésr” meaning Spring.

Zlata Maja

Name means “Golden Mother of Life”

Zlatogorka

Name means “Golden Hill”

Marjetica

Name means “Daisy”

Fun fact! The daisy is also a sacred flower of the Norse goddess Freya!

She is a glowing radiant goddess, often described as having long golden hair. Vesna is also associated with the day that the Swallows return on approximately March 9th called Strinenija. At this point in the year, another goddess named Striga(Mora, or Morana) would be reborn as this Spring Goddess. The dates however, will vary depending on the climatic differences in the various Slavic countries.

She loves music, dance and song; as well as sensual pleasures (intercourse). She bedecks herself with a flower crown, and the land itself with beautiful flowers. She may be found naked dancing in a meadow, happily surrounded by birds and butterflies.

Like all the tales of Slavic Deities, she too can change her form to the animals she most connects with. These animals happen to be white birds, rabbits, or singing larks. These are also her messengers!

Quick Facts!

Does she have a sacred day? Time? Holiday?: Yes! They are Fridays, the entire month of May, and especially May Day!

Sacred Space(s): Literally; any flowery meadow, garden, or hill!

Sacred Animals: Rooks, Robins, Cranes, Mice, Shrews, Cuckoos, Fire-flies and Glow worms.

Sacred Plants: Maple, hawthorn blossoms, and wild roses.

Offering ideas: Honey cakes, flowers, apples, goat’s milk, flower crowns, bird sculptures (especially of her sacred birds).

Kresnik

(kre-ES-nik) “Living Fire”, “Lord of Spring Resurrection”, “The Lord of Life-Giving Light”.

There’s about 11 names for this Deity!

In folktales, Kresnik can transform into a bird, or really any shape he pleases; or become invisible! He rides in a golden carriage across the sky on a winged horse. We see him in Slovene folk tales wielding a “golden axe” and causing lightning.

Like his female counterpart (or in some tales she is his partner or twin), he too has golden hair (and mustache), he is bright and radiantly handsome; however he is sometimes described to have golden hands (sometimes going as far as to have golden wings).

Oh! And, he lives on a golden mountain where there grows an apple tree; but it’s not just any old run of the mill apple tree—it holds the golden apples of immortality! (Are you sick of the word “GOLDEN” yet?)

The firefly is a sacred animal to him, and I’ll let you guess why.

Quick Facts!

Sacred day, time, or holiday: Spring Equinox, May 6th, Summer Solstice (June 21 or 22), and oddly enough, December 6th and the Winter Solstice. In short, the Winter Solstice was considered his “birthday,” and then he was celebrated at the Summer Solstice with bonfires!

Sacred spaces: Hills.

Sacred Animals: Roosters, goats, red cows, bulls, bears, wolves, boars, oxen, dragons, horses, flying horses, dogs with white spots (specifically over their eyes, but any white spots will do just fine), woodpeckers, and lynxes.

Sacred Plants: Apples, yellow “corn marigolds,” grapevines, buckwheat, blackberries, red cranberries, asparagus, wheat, hay, and various other fruits.

Sacred Objects: Spoked “sun wheels”, flutes, fiddle, a golden hand (think Thanos), a winged white horse, a candelabrum, golden axe, or a club.

Offering ideas: Yellow apples, wine, cooked buckwheat, grapes, candles, incense, Frankincense, wheat sheaves, cranberries.

END POST

P.S: If you have any questions, always remember to ask them!! If I personally cannot answer it, I'll find sources that could help you out!

#slavic folklore #slavic mythology #slavic paganism #rodnovery #witchcraft community #witchcraft #witchblr #pagan #witch community #witch #pagan witch #paganism #pagans of tumblr #paganblr #witches #baby witch #beginner witch #eclectic witch #tarot witch #offerings #deity work #polytheist

[echo-goes-mmm]

Moonflower #13

Masterpost

Previous

Next

Warnings: none

Iris scanned the letter in her hands. She’d gotten several over the past week; all concerned with the fae currently sitting at her feet. 

Clearly it was a mistake to announce to the court that the fae might consider war over Kit’s kidnapping. The letters were full of urgency and fear, and only time would soothe the public.

Ugh. She should have been more careful.

But then again… she never asked Kit if it was possible.

She glanced down at him. He was leaning against her chair, eyes closed, and half dozing.

“Kit,” she said, keeping her voice low to not disturb the quiet room, “Is… is anyone coming for you?”

“Hm?” Kit’s eyes fluttered open.

“I mean, do you think anyone is looking for you? Would your, uh, government be upset that you’re here?”

“Oh.”

Kit thought for a moment, his face blank.

“No. I’m not important enough to be reported missing to the prince. I don’t know if he'd be upset.” Iris put down the letter.

“You don’t have any concerned family?”

Kit shrugged. “I didn’t live in a grove with other nymphs.”

Iris wasn’t sure exactly what a fae grove was, but she could guess.

“What about your parents?”

Kit looked vaguely uncomfortable. He twirled and stroked a section of his hair, and Iris could see glints of dark green in it.

“I’m a proximity child,” he said, as if admitting something.

“What does that mean?” 

Kit looked away, focusing on a spot on the wall. “When a grove is big enough, faerie children can form from the surrounding magic. They’re usually taken care of by the grove.”

“Usually?”

Kit looked up at her, a faraway look in his eyes. “I’m not very sociable for a nymph. Too… solitary for a grove.”

Kit sounded like he was repeating someone else: ‘Not very sociable for a nymph’. 

Hmph. He seemed plenty sociable in the few glimpses of personality she was able to see. 

The very few glimpses. Kit was living right across the hall, and she knew so little about him. 

Guilt tugged at her stomach.

“I never really asked, but what kind of nymph are you? Tulip? Oak tree? Morning glory?” she guessed. Wasn’t a moonflower a type of morning glory?

Kit hesitated. “I think humans call them dog-roses. It’s a climbing bush.”

“Sounds pretty.” Kit looked away. 

“Yes,” he said.

He folded his hands into his lap, as if he had nothing else to say.

Shy, her mind supplied. 

“Do you miss-” she faltered. That would be a dumb question. Of course he would miss home.

“Tell me about where you lived,” she suggested. “Was it nice, even without a grove?”

Kit nodded. His hands came up to plait a section of his hair, a tiny little braid he did and undid and did again.

“There was a stream, with fish. Some meadow with long grasses and ground nesting birds. Rabbits and mice. Berry bushes. I liked to nap in the shade of the woods when it got too hot. It wasn’t a very big territory, but it was enough to hunt in. I had some neighbors, too.”

It was a pretty bland description, and maybe Kit just didn’t want to talk about it.

“Did you have a, I don’t know, a burrow or something?”

A corner of Kit’s mouth twitched upwards, amused.

“No. There was a witch briar in the meadow that I grew into a hut. I dug out the underneath and layered it with pelts. The thorns kept out the unwanted, and the branches were thick to keep me warm in the winter.”

“Witch briar?”

“Dog-rose. Same thing.”

“Oh.”

Kit hummed. “There was a nest of birds,” he added quietly. “Every spring, they came to live in the branches of my bush.”

There was sadness in his voice, and Iris felt pretty bad for bringing up what had to be a painful thought; that he’d miss the birds this year. And the next. And the next after that.

“I could have Jeff plant some dog-rose in the gardens,” she offered. 

Kit ducked his head. “No, thank you,” he said woodenly. “I’d rather he didn’t.”

“Well… maybe you’d like to plant them, then? I’m sure he won’t mind.”

He shook his head. “Thank you, but I really wouldn’t want them… there.”

“Why not? I thought you liked the gardens.”

Kit’s left ear twitched. “I don’t.”

Iris frowned, confused. “I’d like to know why, Kit,” she said gently. 

“It’s so… manicured. Sterile. Everything is cut and shaped, and there’s so much bare space. It’s unnatural.” Kit’s lips curled into a snarl, but he soon dropped the expression. “Sorry,” he added.

Another spark of personality, and Kit was apologizing for it.

“I guess I never thought of it that way.”

Kit didn’t say anything.

“What if we set aside some part of the gardens for you? You could do whatever you want with it.”

He turned and looked at her, surprise and something unreadable in his eyes.

“Thank you,” he said. “I… I appreciate it, but… why?”

Iris shrugged. “Why not? It might help you feel less homesick.”

“It’s almost fall,” pointed out Kit. “And I don’t think Jeff would be very happy.”

“So? There are plants in fall. And I’m his employer,” said Iris. “He’ll deal with it.”

Kit’s eyes began to look a bit shiny, and he looked away again.

“What do you want in return?”

Iris frowned. “Nothing. It’s a gift. For free.”

“...oh.” 

His voice was small, and choked up, and Iris turned back to the letters and pretended not to hear him softly crying.

taglist: @paintedpigeon1 @cupcakes-and-pain @loserwithsyle @cepheusgalaxy @thingsthatgo-whump-inthenight @virtualbreadtale

#homesickness bc Kit doesn't have enough angst :) #my writing #whump #slavery whump #fae whumpee #royal caretaker #moonflower series

[hollyevolving]

Also, this happened.

Art by Tucker Donovan, Illustrator for Mice & Murder, of Brennan's Tufting Meadows-sona.

#dimension 20 #mice and murder #brennan lee mulligan #tucker donovan

[raven-at-the-writing-desk]

Question: if Miss Raven (your OC) was put under Malleus' sleep spell like everyone else, what would she be dreaming about?

Miss Raven would dream of the idyllic fairy tale world of a Disney animated film or musical production (including spontaneous song-and-dance sequences and dramatic soliloquies). Think like Enchanted!😂 She'd be the main character (freed of her curse, of course), able to spend her days singing in meadows, picking flowers, eating fresh bread (she shares with the local priest named Rollo), and sharing stories with the local townspeople. Oh, but what's this? An invitation to a grand ball has arrived for her! Miss Raven had better dress nicely for her big debut. Her friends are there to help--patient Silver with his animal friends (the mice can sew, and the birds make perfect bows!), compassionate Kalim with his endless smiles and budget, clever Ortho searching up the latest fashion trends to formulate the best look for her, and... Deuce who's there for moral support~ When the night of the ball comes, her Uncle Crowley can lead her in by the arm, warning her to have fun, but remember to be ready to go home by midnight or her father will worry. Her father, her creator, her mentor, the Storyteller--he's still alive in the dream, and she lives happily with him and her Uncle. Miss Raven makes the promise and skips off to enjoy herself, not knowing that she just may find not just fun, but also the prince of her dreams. (Who that is exactly, I'll leave that up to your imagination 🤡 Maybe it's an eel butler, maybe it's a huntsman maybe it's a lion)

(Malleus is off in some secluded corner of the ball, carefully observing her from a distance. Miss Raven was often the one weaving these stories--but now the roles have been reversed, with Malleus as the weaver and Raven as the character in the tale that has been woven. "Sweet dreams, young Crowley. Dream on, forever and ever.")

Basically, it's the kind of nice, peaceful life she expected she'd have when she first turned into a human.) The Miss Raven we know of now has become a little jaded and pessimistic from her life experiences like constantly being around the troublesome students of NRC. Despite this, she’s still a kid at heart and wants to believe in, and hope for, the best in others (though she tries desperately to cover these parts of herself up so she can appear as mature and strong to her peers). That's why her version of a “happy ending" reflects the more girlishly innocent, naive side to her, just like the stories she likes to write.

She's wished for her own happiness for so long, I think she'd easily fall into the trap and not realize it's all fake. As one wise and hopelessly optimistic Disney princess put it: "Everybody wants to live happily ever after." It would take some outside interference or dream world anomalies for her to realize that something is 'off' and snap out of it.

Bonus: I’ve been thinking about m!Raven lately (from an April Fools Day blog event), so I’ll talk a little about him too!

(Male) Raven’s idea of a happy ending is like an amalgamate of OG!Raven’s wishes and Vil’s desire to play the hero. Like the original Raven, m!Raven would be free of his curse in the dream. His ideal life has more adventure than OG!Raven’s 😂 and he gets to be a local pretty boy or something— indulge in his own markedly selfish desires whenever he wishes to.

Instead of being a pauper turned princess attending a ball, m!Raven wants to be the heroic prince the kingdom is throwing the ball to celebrate. He loves having the freedom to galavant and flirt among his subjects—but hey, who’s to say he won’t find a meaningful connection amongst all those in attendance? A partner to soothe the wild, wayward soul of the raven prince?

#twst oc #twisted wonderland oc #spoilers #Malleus Draconia #Raven Crowley #notes from the writing raven #question #Princess Giselle #Enchanted #Giselle #Dire Crowley #Silver #Ortho Shroud #Deuce Spade #Kalim Al-Asim #Rollo Flamme #Rollo Flamm #m!Raven Crowley #Vil Schoenheit

[mintsuwu]

I HAVE A LOT OF SKETCHES AND OCS LAYING AROUND THAT I SHOULD SHOW TO THE WORLD but I am slow- ANYWAY Meet Boney!! (It's a nickname however because in his first concept I drew a rat with a bone and that stuck with me /hj). He is kinda rowdy and stubborn at times but he´s actually a nice kid.

He´s a rat child who comes from a far town poblated with rats called Meadow Town, but he gets lost and stranded in Mousedom at some point. And since people don´t want to help him out due to the whole rat stigma (doesn´t help that Ratigan reinforced that bad image of the species-) he begins to steal food and scare people off with the mindset of "Well people already run away from me so I might as well make it fun >:)". Rumors spread around that there was some sort of mischeavous creature lurking around, leading to Olivia and Fidget investigating about it and finding out that it was just a lost boy.

(Fidget jumpscared him right after/j) The bat didn't exactly like him at first, due to his personality and because it probably gave him Ratigan flashbacks BUT he ends up giving Boney his cap and they become mischief (and poker) buddies!

And his relationship with Olivia is the typical little boy and girl who tease each other constantly but get along pretty nicely, in fact Boney makes her change her perspective on rats a bit, wondering if not all of them are as bad as the mice society said.

OH AND SPEAKING OF RATIGAN he ended up finding Boney and snatched him for a bit, probably just to have him as a new lackey and also to teach him a crushing lesson in life- "See? Mice don't want to be friends with you, they LOATHE you because you are a RAT" (he's in denial)

((I really liked that sketch I knew I had to redraw it sometime-))

Boney however had a good ending and returned home with his father whom he had found and I should probably introduce properly in another post since he takes an important part in the lore I have come up for Ratigan- So here's also Father Jacob!

#fanart #the great mouse detective #tgmd #tgmd oc #disney #disney fanart #oc #olivia flaversham #fidget the bat #padraic ratigan #professor ratigan #ratigan #headcanon #boney #father jabob #rats #sketches #digital art

[mkultrafied]

Containers of food in TJK's Montana cabin + segment from a 2001 interview with the Blackfoot Valley Dispatch newspaper

BVD: I see… Well, back on your representative day—you mentioned some of what you might eat. What was our diet like in general? What would you eat on a typical day?

TJK: This varied so much with the season…. Between 1975 and 1983 I would buy flour, rice, rolled oats, sugar, cornmeal, cooking oil, and powdered milk, and a modest amount of canned fruit and/or tomatoes for the winter. I would eat maybe one can every other day through the cold season. I would eat a small amount of canned fish and dried fruit. Other than that almost everything I ate was wild or grown in my garden. I ate deer, elk, snowshoe hare, pine squirrel, three kinds of grouse, and porcupines, and occasionally ducks, rockchucks, muskrats, packrats, weasels, coyotes, an owl killed by accident—I would never kill an owl intentionally—deer mice, and grasshoppers, huckleberries, soapberries, red twinberries, black twinberries, gooseberries, two kinds of black currants, raspberries, strawberries, Oregon grapes, choke cherries, and rose hips. Starchy roots I ate were camas, yampa, bitterroot and Lomatium, also sprint beauty… I also ate a few minor kinds of roots and a couple of dozen kinds of wild greens. During May and June, before each meal I would eat a salad, often quite a large salad, by just strolling around my property, picking a bit of this and that, and popping it into my mouth. In a few cases I ground up edible seeds and used them for bread. But grinding them was excessively time consuming. I had no hand-mill, and ground them on a rock. In my garden I grew potatoes, parsnips, beets, onions, two kinds of carrots, spinach, radishes, broccoli, and on occasion orach, Jerusalem artichoke, and turnips.

I would dry wild greens and garden vegetables, and sometimes berries, for use in the winter. But for my starchy foods I relied mainly on potatoes and on store-bought staples such as flour, rice, et cetera. Wild starchy roots are scanty up in the high country. Bitterroot and camas are abundant in places in the lower, flat areas, but these are mostly private land and presumably the ranchers wouldn’t want me digging up their meadows to get these foods. In the winters I used to use a tea made from the needles of Douglas fir as a source of vitamin C.

My last winter in Montana, 1995-1996, I was hard up. But when you have to dispense with the things that the system provides, it’s surprising how well you can do by improvising on your own. I had no commercial fruits or vegetables, whether fresh, dried, or canned, but I had plenty of my own dried vegetables. I had some dried black currants and rhubarb, and I had squirrels and rabbits for meat. The commercial stuff I had was just flour—whole wheat and white—cooking oil, sugar, and I think I had a scanty supply of rice. I don’t recall whether I had any oats or cornmeal. I do know that the little powdered milk that I had soon run out and I was using plaster of Paris—dental—as a source of calcium. When that ran out I was planning to use either burnt, pulverized rabbit bones, or pulverized limestone. But I did alright, I enjoyed my meals, and it was a good winter.

BVD: What was your favorite wild food?

TJK: Probably the tastiest wild food in the Lincoln area is partridge berries, a tiny species of Vaccinium—the blueberry genus—that grows at high altitudes. The berries are so tiny that it may take an hour to pick a cupful, but the flavor is superb. Apart from those, my favorite foods are huckleberries, yampa, and the livers of deer, snowshoe rabbit, and porcupines.

BVD: Did you have any favorite meals that you prepared?

TJK: I didn’t have any standard meals, since I just ate what was available at a given time. Generally speaking, my best meals were the stews that contained meat, vegetables, and some starchy food such as potatoes, rice, noodles, or roots such as yampa.

BVD: Would you eat your meals outdoors?

TJK: I seldom did that. I usually ate indoors, at my table in the cabin… When I was done eating, I would sometimes sit back in my chair with my feet up on the table and just gaze out the window for a while…

#tjk #ted kaczynski #unaposting

[thisisnotthenerd]

alright people. it's time for another edition of thisisnotthenerd's d20 stats. this time, we're talking in-world campaign settings.

there have been a fair few that we've cycled through in the dome; some that we've come back to, and some that we haven't.

d20 campaign settings

in chronological order:

Spyre:

the world of teen adventurers; a combination of classic dnd cosmology and dungeon-delving with modern technology equivalents and a school system

seasons: fantasy high, fantasy high sophomore year, pirates of leviathan, the seven, fantasy high junior year

Elna:

Lord of the Rings parody world, where evil reigns over the lands of gorgar

seasons: escape from the bloodkeep

Magic NYC/The Unsleeping City:

it's on the can--the magical side of New York, pretty parallel to our Earth

seasons: the unsleeping city, the unsleeping city chapter ii

Thimble Lane:

a normal neighborhood to the naked eye, but if you look a little closer, a world of tiny inhabitants blooms to life

seasons: tiny heist

Calorum:

a food-based medieval society with multiple nations, complex societal and religious dynamics, and a lot of magic, both free and forbidden

seasons: a crown of candy, the ravening war

Tufting Meadows:

an all animal community, whose local lord resides in loam hall. in the countryside of england

seasons: mice & murder

Gowpenny:

a british magic school that's recently opened its doors to a few american students

seasons: misfits & magic, misfits & magic holiday special

Bram University:

a university founded by bram stoker and dracula, where humans and monsters/cryptids coexist

seasons: shriek week

AnarchEra:

it's only ever called the galaxy, but it's home to the starstruck comics, play, and now a starstruck odyssey

seasons: a starstruck odyssey

Transylvania:

set in the late 19th century, this is transylvania as ruled by the great count dracula

seasons: coffin run

Fey Realm:

a fantastical plane of magic and whimsy, home to many courts, including the court of wonder, the seelie and unseelie courts, the court of craft, the goblin court, the lords of the wing, and many others. connected to the material plane via portals.

seasons: a court of fey and flowers

Neverafter:

a land of stories where people live their lives by the ink and pen of godlike authors, and archetypes rise amidst the tales

seasons: neverafter

Kelvorda & the Underworld:

a classic dnd world with exploration of the underworld and the after life

seasons: dungeons & drag queens

Mentopolis:

a city of noir archetypes and mysteries in the mind of elias hodge, a junior researcher at gobstopper industries

seasons: mentopolis

The Blue Forest:

a forest of nuclear fallout radiation, that's home to some 20000 magical, sapient stoats

seasons: burrow's end

now that we've gone through all of the d20 campaign settings, let's consider how tey could plausibly be connected. there's the one dimension theory by porkchopsensei on reddit from a few years ago, among with a few others that i've seen, but i'd take a slightly different approach to it.

that being, instead of a singular world/dimension in which these stories take place, there are parent worlds and offshoots. offshoots can involve different places, or even different timelines.

parent world #1: the world of spyre. the individual world we've spent the most time in so far, with 5 seasons to date. spyre has a lot to offer between the classic adventure and the high school drama.

offshoots:

elna: if you recall my previous comments about connecting spyre and elna, there's several reasons, one of which is that the elves could be the same, and that fallinel and the celestine sea separate what's shown on the map of spyre and what's shown on the map of elna.

calorum: in the world of spyre, the timeline would be very condensed. the funny theory is that calorum exists inside gilear's minifridge.

parent world #2: the unsleeping city, or TUC-Earth. as the modern with magic representative, this parent world has a lot of room to encompass other campaign settings.

offshoots:

thimble lane: notably in the heartland of america. while there's the obvious connection of gladiator, there's also a straight up mafia of tiny people. where have we seen that before? it's got connections to the fey, and to a bunch of magic that tracks with what's happening in the unsleeping city.

gowpenny: another notably modern with magic setting, but it's funny to me that the british are the way they are about magic in this setting. when evan says 'that's some american magic, bitch!' he means it.

fey realm: there's consistent references to the material plane and the fact that they have their own magic there; the streets of gritty los angeles, wannessa, chirp's family, binx's warlocks and court. also very funny to imagine rowan berry showing up to the next bloom after her court has been established. we don't really see much of the seelie court beyond the oberon scene and lady sylmenar, so i think the events of tuc chapter 1 plausibly could have happened before the bloom.

and for a timeline offshoot: the Blue Forest. instead of the unsleeping city hiding, the presence of magic comes with a bunch of super radioactive stoats

parent world #3: anarchera (the starstruck galaxy). it's already plenty full with comics and plays and lots of chaos, but hey! why not add some more!

offshoots:

mentopolis: elias hodge works for gobstopper industries in a 'retrofuturistic world'. given the breadth of the galaxy, who's to say that elias hodge isn't from a much earlier cycle? also knowing that psychics exist, mentopolis is a very funny concept. he created an artificial cerebroslug.

parent world #4: dracula's transylvania. this isn't an offshoot of the unsleeping city because it's anachronistic 19th century with vampires and other creatures.

offshoots:

bram university: in my mind, after the fang gang gets the castle dracula back they have a good few years of running along, before a bram stoker comes along with a novel about dracula's exploits. this prompts a deal that resulted in bram university.

individual worlds:

neverafter: as a multiverse of stories, the neverafter kind of exists on its own. if you get really theoretical about it, every single story could be encompassed there, but it doesn't really connect meaningfully with other worlds that d20 has used.

tufting meadows: while i'd love to group tufting meadows with some of d20's other period settings, it is fully a bacchanal of animals who are living the story of sherlock holmes sylvester cross. there are no humans.

kelvorda/the underworld: dungeons & drag queens takes place in a very classic dnd campaign setting. one could make the argument that nekronomikron of spyre could plausibly connect to thanara's underworld, what with there being a similar gauntlet to pass through, but i think this adventure stands better as its own story in its own world.

anyway, that's all for this time! check out the spreadsheet to see this analysis in chart form.

#dimension 20 #dimension 20 meta #thisisnotthenerd's d20 stats #dimension 20 statistics #campaign settings

[p1nkcanoe]

finding new fanfiction to read can be tricky, especially when you’re just going off of titles and vibes. lucky for you, I’ve put together a shitty directory organized by kink and some other potential eye-catching topics… so without further ado, I present p1nk’s smutty fic directory (not to be confused with my masterlist, of course)

if you’re looking for…

monsterfucking

then check out voulez-vous (rain x dew)

size difference

saut dans le vide, my lover is for you (mountaindew)

cornflower blue (swiss x phantom)

scheming ghouls

the ghoulettes make dew pretty in line my eyes and call me pretty (dew x ghoulettes)

pleader gets hot in the library (swiss x phantom)

aether unleashes chaos in the den with love like ghosts (swiss x mountain)

mount thinks he's slick in ace up my sleeve (mountain x phantom)

rain and swiss try something new in the pleasure in deprivation (rain x swiss)

and we can’t forget about picture this and its sister series, the polaroid collection (swiss x everyone)

ghouls in love

once twice melody always has my heart (rain x dew)

cornflower blue, lovey-dovey ghouls and size kink (swiss x phantom)

ghouls being weird...

phantom is a voyeur in the moon doesn't mind (phantom, copia x cumulus)

swiss does not play that damn guitar... (swiss x guitars???)

uhhh... mountain + footjob... who let the dogs out (swiss x mountain)

something normal* for once

aurora and swiss grinding gets a little hot in fever (swiss x aurora)

secondo requests a little company from one of his ghouls in dreamy bruises (mountain x secondo)

mountain's a brat in asphalt meadows (mountain x aether)

rain proves that it's possible to be a gamer and also fuck in mice on venus (rain x cirrus)

mountrora butterfly series is the fiction of speed (mountain x aurora)

*normal: not too weird, kinky, or intense. but let's be fr, none of these are necessarily "vanilla"

shorter works

i have a ficlet collection

#p1nk’s fic directory #p1nk speaks #masterlist

[jokeringcutio]

Otis B. Driftwood X (f) Reader Modern AU

Warnings: 18+, DARK, Noncon/Dubcon, Murder, corpse abuse. Slasher Fandom/Horror Fandom fic.

Fandom: House of 1000 Corpses, The Devil's Rejects and 3 From Hell.

Pairing: Otis. B. Driftwood x (f/female Identifying) Reader

Summary: You met him online in a game, and now you regret it.

AN: Surprise, Surprise @myers-meadow <3 I wrote this after our chat yesterday night. Consider it an alternative way of meeting Otis. Sweet dreams tonight.

~

A message, like any other, pinged on your screen. Candy 123, it said. You’re good at this game.

Thank you, you sent as a reply, relieved to be contacted by another female player. At least, you figured she must be a female. Most players in this game were men, but this user’s profile indicated you were talking to a girl or someone who identified as one. You’d checked it before you replied, of course. You’re pretty good yourself.

It took only a moment before a new message appeared on the screen. Want to do the next round together?

There wasn’t even any doubt. You dove straight back in.

~

Talking to Candy was fun. She seemed to be creative and very passionate about her art. She told you she lived in a nearby town and that her father worked at a gas station. She created statues in an atelier at her house. You told her you wanted to see her art, but she hesitated. Perhaps she was just shy, you thought.

Sometimes she was joined by Baby Fly, a sister, Candy had said. The two of them gathered whole teams around them in-game and together, you won the most brutal of rounds. A shame, really, that many of the players that joined in suddenly stayed away. Perhaps their real lives got too busy, you thought. And besides, a new player would join in after a while.

When summer came, and you announced you’d be bored out of your mind, Candy finally invited you over to her house to come and see her art. You’d been elated. You called your best friends and told them where you’d be headed and when. You were no fool.

You hit the road with a good feeling about this. Excitement bubbled within your belly. You were going to meet one of the tightest friends you’d made on the internet. Needless to say, you were looking forward to it so much, you weren’t scared to go to the stranger’s house. It was Candy. She’d be okay.

~

When you arrived at the house, you instantly knew something was amiss. A blonde girl opened the door, and for a moment you were relieved. This was Candy, right? But no, she shook her head and smiled at you. She was actually Baby. Candy would be coming down the stairs soon, and would you come in?

So you went in and waited with a smile.

There was an odd pungent smell within the house. One that reminded you of rot and dead mice. Your stomach clenched and turned, and you had to bite back the bile that had started to rise in your throat. You had accepted a drink from Baby, but couldn’t get yourself to drink from it. Surely, something was amiss.

Just when you thought you should better get up and go, you heard voices drifting down from the landing.

“Baby will entertain our guest till we’re ready,” a male voice said.

“I can’t wait,” another man replied. And now you knew for certain that you’d been lured into a spider’s nest. You quickly shot up from the couch and apologized, but Baby blocked the way.

“Leaving now wouldn’t be fair,” she said. Behind you, the staircase creaked. “You haven’t met Candy yet.”

You slowly turned to look over your shoulder to see a pale man at the top of the staircase. His hair was white. Albino? you thought. Or just bleached? And then he smiled a rotten smile.

The devil himself, something inside of you screamed. Getting out suddenly became vital. The feeling of pinpricks on your skin and needles of ice down your spine was enough to move you forward. You managed to get past Baby, and even succeeded in opening the door. But then large hands came upon your shoulders and you were pulled back into the house, screaming and kicking.

Baby closed the doors and you met Candy for the very first time.

~

Candy was not a girl like she had said to be. She wasn’t even your age. He told you he chose the username after a good lay in a whorehouse several miles away. Candy had been his favorite. He told you this with no shame, hands on the stained fabric on his thighs. Dried blood covered him, his jeans, and his white shirt. The one thing he hadn’t lied about had been his creative tendencies, and you were introduced to some of his art pieces.

They were horrifying.

The man took you to his bed. The stranger you had heard him talk to upstairs earlier on, and Baby helped him tie you down to it. And then he ravished your lips with his before his attention to your body slipped lower. It felt as if the sheer size of him could rip you apart. But despite his rough thrusts, you remained in one piece. For now.

Otis, as the man was called, happily explained that he lured you here to become part of one of his new expositions. He had ideas for you – oh so many! He had kept you on the back burner for a bit, not quite inviting you over until he had thought of the perfect piece of art that he could feature you in. And you silently cursed that you had ever shown him pictures of you from everyday life. He had known your looks, while he had lied about his own. He had played you well.

And now you we’re going to die.

But Otis seemed to postpone the moment of your death. Instead, he kept rummaging around the room, complained about tools that had disappeared, and showed you a few more of the mutilated corpses that he considered to be art.

He left your nether regions unclad and on display all the while, and you noticed how his eyes darted back between your legs ever so often. As if he was imagining how your intimate parts would look in one of his displays. “A flower, perhaps,” you wondered. “With the petals peeled back?”

To your own shock, you found yourself voicing your thoughts out loud. “Would he use your abused core as the center of his newest piece? Would it delight him to see it still leaking his cum?"

His eyes lit up at your words and he crawled over you. His long hair tickled your naked skin.

“Like it?” he rasped, voice hoarse and resembling a primal growl. “Love it. Devour it. Adore it.” It seemed there were not enough words to describe what that idea did to him because he started rambling above you about all the thrills he would feel to have you on display like that.

“You have such pretty thoughts,” he murmured at the end of it, eyes wild at first but softening when he locked them with yours. He brushed a finger gently down your cheek and chuckled. “You know, you are the first to think along. Like, properly give me suggestions. And I love it. Love what you ask me to do. I think I might,” and then his lips were upon yours again and you closed your eyes thinking this was it.

Hoping it would be over soon.

It never ended though.

~

It had been a game to him. A new exotic way to gain fresh specimens for his exhibition. The game console stood in the corner of the room, neatly stored underneath the television. You were one of his recent catches, now seated on the couch. But he just couldn’t get his head around it. He liked you more alive than he liked you dead. And wasn’t that quite a miracle itself?

You were dressed in one of his shirts. Baby promised to bring back some new clothes for you next time she went into the city after the ones you had arrived in had been used in one of Otis’s latest creations. You meekly obeyed each and every one of his sinful whims. Most of the time, all he seemed to want was a kiss or to be deep inside of you. He taught you new tricks and was proud of the skills you were learning. New techniques to give him pleasure. Ways to bring him to a climax even sooner.

He encouraged you to take part in his new projects by either thinking along or helping him to prepare a new piece of art. He knew it sickened you to hurt others, but he did not leave you much of a choice. Otis was violent and impulsive. He acted first and, only in some rare instances, he would regret it later. But that meant that most of the time, he would literally force your hand to cut up a body with a knife. He’d hold your wrist and guide you through it. He made you skin one of his victims and sew it into a suit. He made you paint a heart with fresh blood and had you watch him as he made love to another of his centerpieces.

It had been weeks now since you got here and even the family members seemed to have grown used to your presence. A good thing, you darkly thought while you observed your new boyfriend in silence. Soon they would let their shields down, and you would be out of here.

Bye, Bye Otis, you thought with a smile. At that precise moment, he turned to face you. Of course, he was unaware of the murderous thoughts in your mind and he stepped closer again. You heard the muffled screams from the young man tied up behind him. But Otis ignored him. He only had eyes for you.

“How about one more go before I start slicing up our new guest?” he hummed.

You spread your legs for him and leaned back on the couch. One day soon, he’d be in one of his art displays himself, you silently vowed. Then, with one thrust, he was firmly inside. Your lips parted in a gasp.

You couldn’t wait for that day to come.

#Look I did a thing #I tried #ficlet #Otis B. Driftwood x Reader #Otis B. Driftwood x You #Otis B. Driftwood #slasher fanfiction #Otis Driftwood x reader #Otis driftwood x you #Otis firefly x reader #Otis firefly x you #House of 1000 Corpses #The Devil's Rejects #Pick your current Otis

[skaikruswan]

Hi I would love a sequel from the pregnant s/o prompt, where their child can also shape shift into a cat and lord Meowpheus is teaching his kitten how to cat.

WC: 1,4 k

Relationship: Morpheus x f!reader

Notes: established relationship, fluff, Morpheus as a good Dad, twins, sweet family moments.

Dear anon,there you go :) This is very sweet and fluffy, I hope you enjoy.

If you liked this story, i have written others. This is a sequel to this prompt, but it can be read as a stand-alone.

Prepare for trouble, and make it double 

“Mom, can you tell us a story?” your daughter asks as you tug her in, your hands smoothing the soft blanket. You give her an amused smile while you press a kiss on her forehead and stand up to walk to her brother’s bed. 

“I think your father is the better story-teller,” you reply as you sit down next to your son, rubbing some dirt from his cheek. He permits your motherly affection with a small eyeroll.

“But we want to hear it from you,” he protests, giving you his best pout, and you ruffle his dark hair. Twins. You’re blessed with twins, and every day you feel your heart almost burst with love for them. Your little miracles. 

“Can it please have cats?” his sister asks, and you shake your head fondly. Cats have been their latest interest, and oh dear, it has made your life interesting. Then again, what else can you expect from children of an Endless? 

Nobody can tell you what or who your children will become. Are they immortal, mortal, or something in-between? So far, they have grown normally, they require food, sleep and everything else what humans do. Morpheus has asked his sister, and he has even reached out to his oldest brother, Destiny. Morpheus hasn’t told you much, but he didn’t seem to be wiser after returning. It will be a surprise. 

“Aren’t you tired? Don’t you want to return to the Dreaming?” you ask, and you see your daughter stifle a yawn. 

“We want a story!” they say in unison, and you let out a sigh as you relent. 

            --------------------------------------------

The Dreaming has immediately taken a liking to their prince and princess, and they love the realm in return. Dreams watch over them as they play in the meadows of Fiddler’s Green, and they have all but adopted Goldie. Cain and Abel adore them, and you trust them enough to leave your children in their care when you and Morpheus go on dates. In a private moment, Abel has told you that their presence seems to lift his brother’s spirits. Lucienne allows them to roam the library, and they know better than to run or leave her sight. There has been a period during which they both loved to waddle after Matthew, so the raven had flown close to the ground, guiding the twins around in circles, his caw filled with mirth. 

You know deep within your soul that your children would never be hurt in this realm, that Morpheus would always keep watch over them. It gives you a certain comfort, to know that he will be there for them, should they be endless like him and outlive you. Morpheus' love for them is as steadfast as the rising of the sun and as deep as the ocean. Come what may. Either way, he has a lot to teach to them. 

You will never forget the small moment of horror when you and your children had waited for Morpheus within the confines of your own dream, only for them to disappear. Morpheus had connected your Dreaming to your children’s, so they could always find you and you would always find them. You knew they were close by, but you didn’t see them, you could only scream as you ran through the lush forest. 

“Mom, do you think the dream-mice will be angry or sad if we start to chase them?” You heard your daughter’s voice clear in your mind, just as you heard Morpheus sometimes, but you didn’t see her. Your panic only grew, until you finally spotted a black-and-white kitten trying and failing to climb up a tree. 

“Sweetheart, look out!” you screamed when you noticed gravity pull at her, and you reached her just in time to break her fall, catching her in your hands. The kitten – your daughter – nudged her head against your fingers, and you felt your thundering heart slow down. 

“Since when can you be cats?” you asked, trying to keep the panic and confusion out of your voice. Morpheus had told you that while children could manipulate their dreams to a certain extent, they couldn’t change their own form. That rule apparently didn’t apply to the prince and princess of the Dreaming. 

“It’s the first time, and it is really fun!” your son’s gleeful voice chirped in your mind, and you looked down to see an identical kitten pull at your laces. 

“Being a cat requires practice,” a familiar voice said, and your shoulders sagged with relief when you noticed Morpheus approach. Your son immediately ran towards his father, leaving tiny paw prints in the soft ground, and your daughter gave an adorable meow, asking to be put down, and you complied. 

While your children pranced around Morpheus, you gave him a long glare. You knew he wasn’t responsible, but still. 

“I am sorry, my love. I did not foresee this.” Now you heard his voice in your head, and you sat down on a patch of grass. You didn’t expect this family dream time to end up like this. 

“I shall show you how to behave as a cat,” Morpheus said, and your children mewled with excitement when their father became a big, black cat himself, towering over them. 

And thus, their cat-lessons started. 

            -------------------------------------------

You were in the library, helping Lucienne reshelve some of the tomes, when you let out a low hiss as small claws dug into your calf. 

“Mom, Dad taught me how to sneak up on somebody!” Your son almost sounded smug, and you glowered as you lifted him up. 

“What did we say about claws?” You used your best mom-voice, and your son avoided your gaze. Unlike the golden eyes of his father, he retained his human eye color, just like his sister. 

“I am sorry.” He dragged his tongue over your skin, and you scratched his favorite spot below his chin, making him purr. He shared this small weakness with Morpheus. 

“What else did your father teach you?” you asked while you carried your son around, leaving the library and heading towards your own chambers. 

“Climbing up trees! Can you believe that I am the slowest of us?!” he grumbled, and you remembered how competitive your children were. You were glad that you missed that particular lesson, or you might have found out if one could get gray hair in a dream. 

            ---------------------------------------------

You lay on a towel, enjoying the sun and the salty breeze warming your skin, when you felt something soft push against your shoulder. 

You opened your eyes to see your daughter nuzzle you, and you turned your head to press a kiss on the top of her head. 

“Another lesson?” you asked, and the small kitten in front of you nodded. You felt rather than saw Morpheus and your son were close. You could technically also change form and become a cat, but you liked to believe that Morpheus and your children immensely enjoyed the cat-lessons. You didn’t feel excluded, knowing that you would always get a full report. 

“Yes, on how to make somebody give you amazing belly-rubs,” your daughter announced earnestly, and you giggled, while you sat up. 

“Did you truly think that I would give bad belly-rubs?” you asked indignantly as you started to drag your hand over her exposed stomach. 

“Not at all! Dad says that yours are the best!” You continued to prove your daughter’s words right. 

            --------------------------------------------

“And so they all lived happily ever after,” you end your tale and watch as your children finally lose the fight against sleep, their eyes closing as they leave the waking world.

“You shouldn’t sell yourself short, my love. It was a wonderful tale,” Morpheus’ praise warms you to the core and you melt as he presses a soft kiss on your forehead, sitting next to you on the fluffy carpet. His gaze drifts over the sleeping forms of your children, and the love is almost tangible.

“No cat-lessons today?” you tease him as you rest your head on his shoulder. 

“No, tonight I shall only belong to you.” His words send a shiver down your spine, and you let Morpheus lift you up and carry you to your shared bedroom. You knew from experience that your children would wake up or interrupt you.

Tonight, Morpheus made you mewl. 

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