#camera-caw

[kreflections]

Surviving ©  K Reflections

#camera-caw #original photogrphers #imiging #luxlit #i stumbled upon #artists on tumblr #yes we are magazine #kreflections

[falloutnukabreak]

#caw #i keep laughing everytime i see this in my camera roll

[alabaster-the-crow]

Some witches hoard tarot decks, herbs, candles, crystals. Me? I hoard halloween signs.

#my latest obsession #the crow goes caw #crow with a camera

[arundolyn]

Sorry if this may seem like an odd request but can you make a gif of Raven's defeat animation where he just flops around like a dying fish please and thank you

rev has been acting up when I try to use the mood I need to in order to make gifs, so I can't say anything for sure, BUT in the future if it decides to behave itself ill write this down to remind me to do it!!

#cawing #at age 6 i was born without a face #i was about tosay something about itsreally weird snd i didnt get it and then i realized something #didnt rev get a rollback update? #and if so that would kinda mean someone else needs to update the camera mod then #cause idk the first thing about cheat tables #mannn... lame #cause with cf's rollback update they arbitrarily decided to replace the char files with encrypted versions #and i think cleaned that whole folder up. booooooo #luckily i had a backup tho lmaooo

[crow-with-a-knife]

There is something so inexplicable about this image that I cannot seem to place.

#caws of crow #i’m looking thru my camera roll #and this was when i was in texas #it’s so #familiar

[gongedtornado]

.

#can i rant abt something random for a second #i hate when people will comment on other videos of animals- #taking big cats in a sanctuary for example- #i love when the person in the video is touching the animal/giving it scritches and the specified big cat LOVES it #(cat body language) #and then people continuously comment ‘just wait til it turns your back on you’ or smth along those lines #IT DRIVES ME UP THE WALLS #people do the same thing on domestic fox videos #and its *insane* to me because its almost like these people are wishing for the owner/caretakers to get hurt by their animals?? #like for one thing- cats have such unique body language and behavior #and if youre paying attention to it- you can understand them a lot better #i saw a video of a lady brushing out a siberian lynx (he was a rescue from a fur farm) #and some of the comments were just nasty #like- his tails not wagging for one / hes not growling / hes letting her touch and kiss and scratch him #at some point he does bite but its a playful bite and he ends up enjoying scritches from the camera person #leaning into it and closing his eyes n shit . he was ENJOYING THAT SCRITCH #‘that giant lynx may eat her face’ ‘she’ll learn her lesson one day’ oh my god shut upppp #literally any animal is capable of that. its only just because hes not a common household animal #ONCE AGAIN MENTIONING- THE LYNX WAS A RESCUE FROM A FUR FARM. #i should also mention he imprinted on humans. his name is marsel iirc #i dunno it just drives me up the walls when people say some of the nastiest shit like that #kazzy caws

[avian-hearts]

^ kissing him directly on his forehead <3

#caw caw #crush; rockstar #i saw him in my dreams again.................................... #the one from last night; he overheard me talking/gushing about him to other ppl and one of them was like #''why don't you just tell him already?'' #and it kind of just ended there #i would also like to say thst the!!!!!!!!!!!!! Camera/POV tends to shift around a bit in my dreams too #THEN there was a dream from /possibly/ the day before yesterday where rockstar intertwined his hands with mine and looking directly #into my eyes and said something that i don't remember + called me baby #I PROMMY I DON'T THINK ABOUT HIM THAT MUCH.................................. (< lying. has been listening to his song almost everyday(

[ddragayn]

my sketchbook is almost full so im gonna go through and post my favorites from it soon 👀

#last post was just stuff i liked that happened to be in my camera roll already lol #corvi caws

[gentil-minou]

Crow!Xian except it's a modern cultivation au where Wei Wuxian is cursed to be a crow and he spends it hanging out on Lan Wangji's balcony cawing and shouting to get his attention and save him.

lwj just trying to enjoy his morning tea on the balcony and crow!wwx screeching at him and so lwj gives him one of his biscuits and crow!wwx just looks into the camera like this wasn't what i wanted but i mean i will take it i guess and eats the biscuits happily as lwj just watches him.

he sneaks in one day because crow!wwx is smart enough to figure out how to open a sliding door and uses paint to paint the entire room and write I AM WEI YING but crows don't have the best hand eye coordination so when lwj sees it he's just like "pretty drawing crow friend" with a polite head pat that makes crow!wwx screech but also he likes it

lwj eventually figures it out when crow!wwx caws the notes to wangxian and even in the horrible screechy noise thats still somehow in tune, lwj recognizes immeadiately and is like "that crow is my wei ying."

he tries true love's kiss and like gives him a peck on the beak but it's doesn't work and crow!wwx is all huffy because his first kiss with lwj is as a crow and isnt that unfair.

(eventually they figure out the array and get him back to normal and have lots of make up kisses but every once in a while when wwx burps it comes out like a crow's caw and he jumps. lwj thinks it's cute and gives him more biscuits and kisses)

#i wasnt gonna do the xiantober prompt but the idea just wouldnt leave me #and then the video of that crow saying ni hao came up and i was like ITS A SIGN #i dont really want to write this but the idea is so fun i needed to share it #mdzs #mo dao zu shi #mdzs fanfiction #wei wuxian #the untamed #lan wangji #wangxian #xiantober #mdzs musings #bushy writing

[leaderpinhead]

Leona - The Kingscholar Men

Leona wanted to squeeze that big head full of even bigger orange hair between his palms like an actual orange. 

And no, he wasn’t talking about his brat of a nephew. He wished he was talking about his nephew. The sheer stupidity he was having to deal with would have made more sense coming from a child. Not a full grown, adult king nearly ten years his senior! 

He skidded around one corner of the hallway, ignoring the servants who gave him dirty looks when his shoes left noticeable marks on the floor. He caught sight of the wild bush Falena called a mane slip around the corner at the far end of the hallway. With a snarl, he took off down the hallway like he was on the Spelldrive field intersecting a win-or-lose disc heading towards his team’s goal. 

He barely registered the orange furball when he sprinted past one of the archways. His ears twitched from Cheka’s high-pitched voice. “Mama? Wha’s Unca Leona and daddy doing?” 

Sade’s loud sigh was both dramatic and amused. “Cheka, dear. This is why mommy makes you go to daycare. So you can learn how to communicate your feelings with others like a normal, healthy person.” 

“I like playing with Timmy and Pupa!” 

Leona clicked his tongue and ignored his sister-in-law. Sitting on a comfy throne all day had created a larger gap in their stamina because Falena was tiring out a lot quicker than Leona. Leona could already hear his brother huffing with exertion while he was barely winded. It only took a few more turns for Leona to fully catch up to him. 

With a tackle that would have made Vargas obnoxiously caw with muscle praise, Leona took Falena to the ground. While Falena whined, Leona wrangled his brother into a chokehold. He snapped his teeth in his brother’s ear. “Give it back now.” 

Despite his chokehold, Falena somehow managed to huff out a chuckle. “I don’t know what you mean!” 

Leona flexed the arm around Falena’s neck, digging the bend of his elbow deeper into his brother’s Adam’s apple. “You know exactly what I’m talking about. I get notifications for messages on my tablet.” 

Falena huffed another laugh, tempting Leona to completely cut off his airflow. “Sade told me about Cheka’s new pen pal.” 

Now Leona really did cut off Falena’s windpipe. “Don’t say another word.” 

But Falena did. “The Kingscholars are naturally virile—.” 

His voice cut off with a satisfying croak. Leona kept pressure on Falena’s throat. “Long live the king.” 

Falena quickly tapped his wrist. “Leona, I can’t breathe!” 

“You’re a fool to think that’s not the point.” 

Falena bucked up against him. Leona was quickly reminded that even though he was clearly the lither of the two, Falena still had a good bit of muscle on him. After a quick round of hissing and spitting, it wasn’t too difficult for Falena to reverse their positions. His brother boisterously laughed the moment he could breathe again, and Leona was subjected to a rough noogie between the ears. “There’s no reason to be so shy! It’s about time you showed interest in someone.” 

Leona glowered at the guards who had finally caught up to them, embarrassingly gasping for breath. “You’re already growing senile in your old age.” 

“When do you plan to bring her here to meet me?” 

“Now you’re just being obnoxiously full of yourself.” 

“We have to introduce her to Kafaji and Baraka!” 

Leona’s snarl was punctuated by a loud chime. With one arm still wrapped around Leona’s shoulders, Falena used his free hand to pull Leona’s phone from his pocket. Leona glowered at the screen, kicking himself in the rear for disabling his passcode to make it easier for Ruggie to use his phone. It allowed his brother to easily swipe the phone unlocked and gain access to his messages. 

The picture Falena had sent to the prefect—one of Leona grinning up at the camera as a toddler—took up most of the space on the screen. The only text bubble on the screen was her new response below it: Cute! You and Cheka have the same nose! 

Falena chuckled and showed Leona the screen like he had something to be proud about. “She likes kids. That’s a good sign!” 

Leona snorted and ignored his brother rambling on in his ear. He was enabling the passcode on all of his devices again even if it meant having to hear Ruggie whine when he couldn’t use it for coupons or something. Anything was better than having to listen to Falena plan out some delusional “five-year engagement plan” like an old spinster. 

And everyone wondered why he occasionally dreamed of pushing his brother off a cliff into a herd of stampeding wildebeests. 

#twisted wonderland #twstober #leona kingscholar #falena kingscholar #they're just two brothers who have no idea how to talk to one another #and Falena's wife knows it #day 4 chase

[silvakristiina]

A week later and here I am after my "kind of an announcement".

I got the PC back up, because I had to. And as the stubborness and adhd hyperfixation had already kicked in (and the electricity costs were close to normal! For real 😲), I spent five days more fighting with the game with the help of some lovely people in Creators Cave, and it works now. Thank you so much! 💗 Even CAW's EiG is working, for the first time ever! I'm over the moon! 😍 I might get at least one world ready finally 😭 (SuperCAW does not work though, Windows refuses to install it). And I got rid of EA App and the remnants of Origin.

I got carried away while almost Vanilla game and created a loner pet and plant lover. I came across a flower arraging mod I had no idea about, and now she has a huge garden and a flower shop. I'm still missing Seasons, but a friend of mine has a copy, but I don't trust the Finnish Post to delivered it safely, so it might take a while to get it.

When taking pictures I realized I have forgotten how to! 😂 I found nothing with Google, but I'm sure there was a way to have the camera move freely without being stuck on the current floor level, which was able to zoom super close and even inside objects. It wasn't a mod? Some button I have to press? How have I forgotten? 🤔

I still have all Store content to install. It's waiting for my decision about how. Via Launcher as ment, as packages or as decrappified versions, or what. I have to study the options. I may even make a poll, because I use heavily Store items on my uploads and would like them to be as easy as possible to download and use.

#ts3

[kavohh707]

Befriending wildlife can sometimes lead to very sad moments because sometimes you loose them. And since I know not everybody wants to read sad bird stories on here, I put the story beneath the line, so you can decide to read it or not.

First some back story. I had started to befriend the crows in my neighbourhood a couple of years ago and it is not always easy, some start to trust you very fast, some are more shy. My neighbourhood is only inhabited by crow pairs with very clear territories, but sometimes new pairs move in. And this year in late the late summer a new pair moved in directly in the street where I live. It was the crow from the picture, a mixture of a carrion crow and a hooded crow, and a carrion crow. They had tried to establish themselves in the area before, but the other pair that was close by, didn't allow it, but by early autumn they came by more often. Whenever I saw them I gave them some peanuts, but they were very shy. Eventually they realized where I live and I started to throw peanuts from my balcony. I only managed to take one picture, the one above, as they were always spooked by the camera. After a while they started to sit on the tree opposite my living room window and peeked into my flat to see if I would come out to give them some peanuts. I was slowly building up trust and was sure that they would eventually allow me closer and would not be spooked by the camera any more.

Today I heard a lot of crows screaming outside and I saw them chasing a bird of prey which I couldn't identify, but over the last couple of weeks I have seen the crows and magpies of this area chasing a buzzard as well as a goshawk, so it wasn't a too uncommon thing to notice. But then the caws started to change and I stepped out on my balcony and saw a dead crow lying on the street and it was the one in the picture while their partner was sitting in the tree in front of my balcony cawing and other crows were cawing from the roofs. Yes, crows caw over dead crows, some say this is a funeral behaviour (see here for a researcher explaining the behaviour and why you shouldn't pick up a dead crow or their feathers).

I think the crow was attacked by a bird of prey, because even if the crow was dead on the street I don't think it was hit by a car. City crows are way to clever and very good at noticing cars when they are on the street. I have seen this one clearly calculating when to move away from an approaching car.

So yeah, I lost one of my crows and it makes me very sad. I know birds of preys need food too, that is nature, but crows hold a special place in my heart, so it hurts.

PS Now that it is dark and rainy I went down and took the dead crow from the street and put it well hidden beneath the bushes in my garden. I just didn't want the crow to be crushed by cars.

#crow #corvids #birds #hooded crow #carrion crow #nebelkrähe #rabenkrähe

[neekrobite]

*looks into camera and caws*

[musette22]

hello Minnie. I want to clarify the 'fanon' that seems to be taken as fact about the vintage footage used in caws. the interviewer asked Sebastian about it and Seb said he couldn't remember what exactly they were talking about, they were just making jokes. the 'but we are friends' thing is just lip reading, which tbh makes no sense logistically. the directors wouldn't have started shooting literally seconds before giving that instruction. on another note, Anthony's words were '(seb&chris were) just making each other laugh, enjoying the moment, like the characters.' they weren't acting as friends, they were acting as Steve and Bucky which imo is so much softer🥺

sources (if anyone reads Chinese):

http://m.weibo.cn/status/3964607003975085?

http://m.weibo.cn/status/3964987317834423?

Hello! Thank you for this <3 Hmm, I think it's definitely possible they just kept the camera rolling to film that "vintage" footage, like, the instruction could just have been for them to laugh and joke around and then later on they'd see what footage they could use, since they didn't have any dialogue for it. So the "just act like you're friends" "we are friends!" does make sense to me, personally!

But who knows, maybe you're right! I can't read the sources you've added, so I don't have anything more to go on, but I like your take too! They're both lovely, whether you see it as Evanstan or Stucky or both 🥺💗

#chris evans #sebastian stan #evanstan #stucky #minnie answers

[erenspussy420]

TWST Android Ch 5

Title: Mr Crowley come take us away....

Fem reader

Warning: I am a blog that has Nsfw stuff so please tread with caution in my blog.

Charaters: Reader, Crowley

Chapter 5: 

“--As you know here in Raven works there is no one other than us that  can compete with our androids!” Crowley boasted twirling his cane as he struts—with his long legs you struggled a bit to chase after the flamboyant owner. He led you out of the bright halls of Scarabia, leaving behind the poor Manager unit behind. While you were blindsided from the reveal, you wished he would at least turn her back on. She was so life-like, it was rather saddening to leave her turned off.

 True to his bird-like nature, Crowley caws," Not even Royal Sword Automation can hold a candle to our best androids! Why of course you must have heard of our Vil unit!"

And as always Neige Units name follows not too far off. 

“Yeah, a real…real heart stopper,” you say, face feeling hot remembering how you almost made out with the glass case. Thank Merlin, Manager Unit stopped you, remarking this happens in the most depressing way ever. Inwardly you panic wondering as you realize there would be cameras here! What if he saw? Sweating bullets, you clear your throat,” So like, what other units do you guys have? Is it just humans and merfolk or-?”

“Oh dear customer! You’ll be in for a treat!” He turns his head in your direction but not really looking at you, the swagger in his steps as the heels of his shoes click on the floor. You follow him back to the middle of the intersection of the hall, he turns to you with a grin that curls,” We proudly represent every group, however many are limited edition and others rarer than their fellow androids. Why no one is as mindful as us, to make such a palette for every vice!” With a bright smile, his cane hits the ground and with a grand sweeping gesture he mentions to the wall,”Behold!

”....A wall?”

“Very observant, but not quite!” He tuts, lifts his cane and holds it between his hands, and just as easily did the cane melt into his palms and is no longer there. With a flicker of his hands, the elegant way he spun his fingers did come from his palm, a key similar to the one Manager Unit had earlier, appeared. He held it up to you, the flicker of your reflection looked back at you and once again it was gone with a twist of his wrist.

 “Ready my dear customer?” He asks, his eyes glow from behind his mask,” Now don’t be afraid, where we go many new faces await for us so…”

He offers that gloved hand, the faint scent of leather waft, the golden talons of his fingers click as they wait for you,”-- Take my hand and do not let go.”

His voice low and lulling, washing over you like the first spring rains that come at night. The tips of those lips that carve into your mind.

You step forward, and against any better judgment take his hand.  The cool touch of gold over your fingers felt oddly nice. With a key in his hand, he unlocks the wall, and it ripples— till it smoothes and shines like polished stone. The mysterious Crowley slowly begins to step back, enticing you into the mirror. It's dark glass consuming him, the small pin point of his eyes coax you to join him as he sinks in…

“Dear flower of evil, come into our mirror and see our wonders.”

.

.

.

It felt weird, almost like stepping into a wall of water rather than metal or even goo. Once through you smell the faintness of metal, the whirl of fans and flicker of fire. Your eyes snap open and you look around, your voice hitched in your throat. Whatever the budget they had, it's been well spent. The ground wasn’t carpet, its polished black tiles, and smooth stone walls. White skeletons who kneeled but their heads gaze up at the tall ceiling that curves into a softer type of stone. Pillars of marble, smoothed over and so carefully carved into rolls of clouds that were sealed with— what you hope weren’t the blood of your fellow commoners– gold. 

Once more, like the second floor there was another split into two halls. Where the skeletons lined up, was a hall of marble pillars polished and blinding. Lighting the room seems to be a mix of traditional veilfire of bright blue, and the holograms that popped up with cheery facts of this hall. 

Ignihyde— current androids on display: 2. Representation of the Island of Woes, King of the Underworld–Hades.

There was more information, but that didn’t matter right now. You can’t read it fast enough as the words go up in smoke and rewind. Turning around you see no one, Crowley had practically disappeared. Turning back, you see the other hall lined with torches of green veilfire, walls lined with thick branches of thorns, unlike this hall you can’t see anything else around the bend of its hall. A faint pulse of green light glows, soft and pretty…

Green like emerald, pulsing as a heartbeat would….

The light of the fire curls around the thorns, creating faces and dancing wings that flutter between the flickers of veilfire…

You take a step towards the hall but before you can go any further, the beat of feathers accompanied by the click of heels. 

“Dear Customer! Where are you heading off too?” Crowley’s voice brings you out of your stupor. He continues, now looming over your side as he herds you back to the spot where you entered,” Now before we head off, I must ask you my dear, what does our world value most? Tradition or Progression?”

It's a strange question, asked by a strange man but before you can answer he ignores you as continues to speak,”Why it's both! As traditions have become our stability, an identity and our roots, progression has led us far with its innovations to surpass what was thought to be impossible.  Far have we come from our Golden Era of magic, where legends had risen from the ashes and hero’s have come from humble beginnings.” He twirls you around, making you stumble after him as he does, suddenly you wish the Manager Unit was here instead as you’re pretty sure the more sassy unit would at least get to the point.

“Like the Great Seven,” You add in, catching yourself from the temptation of stepping on his cloak,” They were the foundation of how magic grew over time—- the grand Vizor was able to make advanced machines during the Scalding Sands development.”

Crowley claps his hands rapidly,” Bravo! Bravo! It seems you can be clever when you wish!”

You felt your blood rise but keep it down. “Gee thanks.”

“Now don’t be so humble!” Crowley tuts,” Take your praise in stride! Where progression creates, it must have a foundation in its roots. To our future, we have brought you magic that can come to even the smallest of its holders. To magic users, technology that created companions. Now, my dear customer….which will you choose to venture in first?”

He leans back up, straight and chest out as he raises an arm to the Grecian like hall,”Progress…”

He raised his other hand, cane in hand, to where the dances of shadow in veilfire await.” Or Tradition…”

He smiles widely beneath that mask, his eyes flicker… “Choose, flower of evil….”

#twisted wonderland #reader insert #disney twisted wonderland #twst crowley #dire crowley x reader #diasmonia #ignyhide #twst idia #idia shroud #malleus draconia #lilia vanrouge #twst #neige leblanche

[whump-card]

Murmur of Ground: Chapter 1

SURPRISE! New series! Let me know what you think!

4592 words

CW: violence, slavery, past noncon mention, noncon monsterfucking

Masterlist, Next

~~~

The Labyrinth was not simply a maze.

The Labyrinth was an undead city, the buildings fungal, moving, growing, shifting, occupied by scavengers and other foul creatures. Rats the size of small dogs scurried down the porticoes and halls, climbing over marble drums of fallen columns. Harpies nested in the friezes, unphased by the violence depicted in the facades, preferring to inflict the violence themselves, territorial as they were. Caryatids, columns in the shape of gowned women, stared faceless and threatening down upon the concrete and stone walks, paced by restless ghosts. Archways lead to atriums full of silent, dry fountains and lifeless gardens. The occasional Propylaea, grand multi-tiered entrances decked out with stairs and pillars and wall carvings lead to sharp drops into nothingness, as if any temple, any holy place had been surgically dissected out. Nooks and crannies abounded, little chambers that tricked you into thinking you were safe there.

The most haunting aspect was the familiarity. The buildings and interiors took on tauntingly comprehendable shapes, just often enough to make you look twice, make you want to cry I’ve been here before, I’ve been here before – not lost, not home, but some happy distant memory of visitation, I took a picture here, trusted a stranger with my camera and posed. It had the flavor of a moment only remembered though a lens, or a description by someone else. You were five. Do you remember when Daddy had a beard? Look at the picture!

It’s not like you could find the same place twice to check. The Labyrinth grew and in equal measure died, creating a constantly shifting environment. Stay in one place, and it would whirl around you while you slept, never revealing its movements to mortal eyes. Travel, and you’d never find your way back, halls rearranging themselves as soon was they left your sight.

Yani ran.

He stumbled down stone steps, darted around pillars, dodged swooping birds with bronze beaks. It was dim in the Labyrinth, but not dark. There were no lights, no torches, braziers, or anachronistic spotlights. Instead the stone and concrete itself seemed to shed some illumination, glowing just enough for human eyes to see the way, to see the rotten splendor the Labyrinth had to offer.

Yani stood out to the denizens of the Labyrinth like a sore thumb. He was dressed all in white, as a proper sacrifice should be: drawstring trousers and a boxy button down, all linen and ill-fitting. The clothes had come out of a box at the temple – the temple provides, you see. At least his shoes fit, simple cotton slippers that they were. He had been clean when he was first thrown down the shaft, heavily sedated and bathed against his will by the priests. Dressed like a doll. Discarded as easily as one. Now he was sweaty with fear and exertion, and the creatures had his scent.

He did not know how long he had been in the Labyrinth, only that he was hungry and exhausted. The Harpies and bronze-beaked ibis birds dogged him relentlessly, driving him from one brief shelter to the next. A deep hopelessness had set into his heart, sending it racing along at a haphazard pace.

He really was here to die.

His breath seemed dangerously loud, in the quiet of the Labyrinth. The Labyrinth was not silent; low eerie rumbles could be heard in the distance, evidence if the movement of masses of stone and concrete. Nearer, harpies could be heard arguing. Their harsh voices sounded like the cawing of ravens until you tuned in, became practiced at picking out the words. But nearby, currently, it was all quiet, disturbed only by Yani’s hurried footsteps and haggard breath. He had evaded the bird-like monsters – for now.

He ducked into an alcove, home to a dry wall-fountain, and huddled under the basin to catch his breath. His brown, calloused hands shook as he wrapped them around his knees, curling to a ball. His dark hair, usually neatly pulled back in a half-tail, fell loose and lank with sweat around his face. Now that he wasn’t running, his thoughts settled into their new, self-flagellating pattern: Could have. Would have. Should have.

Yani was an indentured servant of the Mylonas family. Or rather, he had been, until the patriarch, Leon, decided to sacrifice him to the Labyrinth. Yani had always thought of himself as a good worker – every order followed, no matter what, regardless of his own thoughts or feelings – but now he wasn’t so sure. Perhaps if he’d worked harder, been more amenable, done… more of what Leon wanted.

There were certain nights, when the Lady of the house went to visit her father. Leon didn’t like to be alone.

Yani shuddered at the memory, but at the same time chased it; examining it. What had he done wrong? What could he have done better?

Had he been too lost in the relief of being loved to submit himself as fully as he should have to his master?

The harpies were back, flitting to and from column capitals and archway crowns. Yani knew he should run, he just needed a moment, a few seconds to collect himself, then he would run, he just needed…

The harpies spotted him. A call went up, and the flock made a cacophony of whoops and jeers. They surrounded Yani, landing on the smooth stone floor in a semicircle around his nook. They had the faces of women, sure, but their eyes were cold, reptilian, inhuman. Their heads bobbed and twitched as they examined him, shouting overlapping, indiscernible threats in their shrill voices. They flapped their wings in a show of dominance, like fighting cockerels, shedding mangy feathers and blowing back their stringy hair.

“Dinner! Dinner!”

“White clothes, white clothes, no one wanted you anymore!”

“Come with us, boy, we’ll save you from the Minotaur!”

Yani cowered, frozen, until one darted forward and seized his ankle with a claw. Yani shrieked, any semblance of dignity long lost as he kicked out with his legs, grabbing desperately at the empty basin of the water fountain, holding on as the creature tried to drag him out. He landed one kick to the harpy’s sharp breastbone, and she screamed at him and only dug her claws into his ankle tighter, drawing blood. A second harpy dove at him, hooking her claws into his shirt, and that seemed to break the floodgates. The entire flock fell upon him, dragging him out of the alcove and clawing at him, buffeting him with their wings. Yani screamed and sobbed, feeling every talon as they ripped into his flesh. Words abandoned him – not that the harpies would listen if he pleaded. For far too long his world was feathers and airlessness and scratching pains, then the harpies started in with their teeth, blunt human teeth, biting at where they’d loosened and bloodied his flesh.

Then, a sound cut through everything: a deep, rumbling bellow. Yani, his eyes screwed shut, felt the weight of the harpies lift away from his body. Their cries turned from triumphant to fearful, and faded away into the distance. Yani curled up into a shuddering ball, his sobbing breaths soon the only noise he could hear.

Then, footsteps.

He heard the soft pad of bare calloused feet, moving towards him. He cracked his eyelids open, saw only blood, and so rubbed his knuckles in his eyes. The portico came into focus, and with it, a figure.

A horned figure.

Yani blinked, staring in awe up at the Minotaur.

~~~

The Minotaur stood tall, at least a foot taller than Yani, not even counting the horns. It was pale, its skin almost translucent from years underground. That didn’t make it any less threatening; its human body was broad, muscular, and hairy, and its bull head sat unnaturally on top, brown-furred and dark-eyed. Its horns pointed upwards, proud ivory. It wore only a loincloth, in the traditional style the priests wore when the went down to the river, leaving its body in nearly full view. The occasional scar marred its skin, marking it white like a chalk tally. A tail hung behind it, languidly swishing.

Yani stared up at it, frozen in shock. This was the true king of the Labyrinth, not King Minos miles above them. This was who the sacrifices were truly meant for, not the harpies, not the rats, not the ghosts.

Who he was meant for.

Yani turned his face to the ground, shutting his eyes, praying that it would be over quickly. Would the Minotaur strangle him? Snap his neck? He flinched, involuntary, when he felt its large hands upon him. Digging under his shoulder, threading under his knees.

Picking him up.

Yani hadn’t been carried since he was very small, and his parents were still around; the sensation of firm but soft arms supporting him, bearing him up, sent electric shudders through his body. The Minotaur cradled Yani against its chest, and began to walk.

“Wait,” Yani croaked, and the Minotaur froze in place.

“Where are you taking me?”

No answer. Yani stared up at the underside of the Minotaur’s head, not sure what he was expecting. After a good twenty seconds, the Minotaur resumed walking.

Yani was still petrified, still convinced that he was doomed. Surely the Minotaur was taking him somewhere to be killed – some dark mirror of the temple on the surface, perhaps, some clandestine altar to the old gods.

Yani’s wounds stung against the cool air of the Labyrinth, some clotting, some still oozing. The blood was smeared on the Minotaur’s chest now, its arms, growing dry and sticky. Yani didn’t want to see it. He closed his eyes, resting his head against the Minotaur’s shoulder, and could almost imagine he was being rescued.

After some time, he had the sense that they had moved from the long hallways and open spaces of the Labyrinth into someplace smaller. Someplace warm. He opened his eyes, and saw something he thought he’d never see again: a home.

The floor was covered with fragrant reed mats. A great fireplace dominated one wall, paired with a nook full of firewood. A settee faced it, draped with a fur blanket. The opposite wall had a high bed with countless pillows, and more fur blankets. In the center of the room was a finely carved wooden table and chairs, all graceful lines and fauna reliefs. An open door on the back wall provided a glimpse of a bathroom, beautifully tiled in blues and whites. A closed door suggested storage. The other walls had arched nooks that suggested windows, but they were bricked up. Instead of a vista they were decorated with hanging tapestries depicting figures and gardens.

The whole space had an energy completely separate from that of the Labyrinth; the very air felt different. It felt stable. Solid. Alive, rather than undead. Homey.

The Minotaur laid Yani down on the bed. He refused to relax, sitting up, wrapping his arms around his knees. The tearing claws of the harpies had not spared his clothes, and while he wasn’t indecent he certainly felt exposed now that he wore tattered bloody rags. He watched the Minotaur with wide eyes as it moved around the room – its home, it had to be. It stoked the fire, then went into the bathroom. Yani heard the telltale squeak of a water pump, and the rushing splatter of liquid into a basin. Then the Minotaur returned, approaching Yani. The blood Yani had smeared on its chest and arms was gone, washed away. That didn’t make it less intimidating. Yani flinched at every step it took, and it seemed to see this, and stopped just short of arm’s reach of Yani. Instead of picking him up again, it offered a hand, its tail still.

Yani felt as if he might be dreaming – perhaps the harpies had truly mauled him, and he was dying, and this was his brain’s attempt at making his death kinder.

He took the Minotaur’s hand. What else was he to do? He rose onto shaking legs, and let the creature lead him into the bathroom, its hand large and warm around his.

It was even grander than the small glimpse through the door had promised; there was a bench with a toilet, a counter with a basin, and a massive tub inset into a raised platform, quickly filling with water from a pump. All of it was tiled with hand-painted ceramics, patterns of flowers and geometry. Overhead were soft white electric lights.

Fit for a prince, Yani realized. It was all fit for a prince.

The room was so dazzling Yani didn’t realize the Minotaur was reaching to unbutton the remains of his shirt until he had already started. Yani jerked back with a yelp.

“Back off!”

The Minotaur took two steps back.

Yani stared at it, panting. The bathroom was large, but so was the Minotaur – and it now stood between Yani and the door, dominating the space.

“I’d like some privacy,” Yani said, his voice wavering. The Minotaur didn’t budge.

“Fine.” Yani grit his teeth, and tried to continue unbuttoning his shirt – but his hands were too tremulous, and as he looked down and tried to focus he found himself swaying on his feet.

“Help?” he admitted, and the Minotaur was there, unfastening the buttons with deft hands and easing the shirt off. Yani hissed and gasped as it peeled away from spots where his dried blood had glued it to his wounds. The Minotaur cast the shirt aside and crouched, untying the drawstring of Yani’s shredded trousers. Yani opened his mouth to stammer out a protest but they had already fallen, leaving him naked. The Minotaur, at least, seemed unphased; it stood and offered a hand to help Yani into the bath.

Yani stood there, dazed and blinking. A prince. The Minotaur was a prince. The Minotaur was a prince and here it was, defying every horror story about itself, helping a lowly servant – less than a servant, a sacrifice. Someone the Minotaur had every right to kill.

Yani took its hand, and stepped into the tub.

The water was warm, warm enough to be comfortable but not hot enough to irritate his wounds. Yani sank in, running his hands over his body, taking stock as the blood washed away. There was barely a single area larger than a few square inches that was left unscratched. He dipped his head below the water, feeling his face with his fingertips, working away the dried blood. He had a long, shallow slice across his forehead.

He surfaced and wiped the water out of his eyes. The Minotaur crouched next to the bath, watching him. Its eyes were so strangely human. Yani looked away. It was obvious by now that the Minotaur could not speak; any questions Yani had, like why are you helping me and why haven’t you killed me would go unanswered. He didn’t bother asking.

Out of the corner of his eye, he saw the Minotaur shifting up to sit on the edge of the bath. It leaned forward, and Yani shrank back. What did it want? At first, Yani’s anxiety seemed unfounded; the Minotaur reached over him to shut off the water, plunging the bathroom into near silence. But then it lowered its hand, and Yani’s breath caught as it settled onto his chest, massaging slow circles. His heart pounded hard enough that surely the Minotaur could feel it through his ribcage. The hand slipped lower, dipping below the water to caress Yani’s stomach, sending through him a chill of fear.

That’s what it wanted.

“Stop,” Yani choked out, expecting nothing, expecting to be overruled – but the Minotaur stopped, immediately. It withdrew its hand, and sat back.

“Leave,” whispered Yani, and the Minotaur obeyed. It stood, and exited, closing the door in its way out. Yani stared after it in disbelief. There was no way it was that easy. No way.

He knew the Minotaur would get what it wanted, sooner or later.

~~~

A bar of soap discovered on a little shelf allowed Yani to clean himself properly. After he got out of the bath he found a cabinet full of towels, and while he hated to stain one with his blood he had no other choice. The Minotaur had also left a set of clothes, and a roll of bandages, scissors, and medical tape, along with a container of store-brand healing ointment that looked absurdly out of place there in the Labyrinth with its red and white plastic tub. Once he’d towel-dried Yani applied the ointment liberally, and taped bandages over the worst cuts and bites left by the harpies. His hands shook with exhaustion, but he did the best he could.

Deciding he was finished, he shook out the clothes to have a look at them. They were made of a dark brown cotton, deliciously soft. The color proved some forethought on the Minotaur’s part – if Yani got blood on them it would hardly be noticeable. One piece was a pair of shorts, pleated and flowy; the other was a short-sleeved v-neck top. The outfit was far more revealing than anything Yani would have chosen to wear, but it was better than the bloody rags he’d arrived in. He dressed slowly, and braced himself to exit the bathroom and face the Minotaur.

Upon opening the bathroom door Yani was hit with a wave of delicious smells. Warm bread. Spices. Freshly chopped greens. His eyes were drawn to the table in the middle of the room, where a simple but abundant feast for two was laid out. Bread, moussaka, salad, wine. Yani’s empty stomach clenched and his mouth watered – but between him and the food stood the Minotaur. It no longer wore only a loincloth, but had donned a velour loungewear set from some designer brand Yani recognized the logo of but couldn’t place the name.

Princely, crossed Yani’s mind. Despite having the head of a beast, and apparently the lust of one, the Minotaur had a certain grace, clothed and standing there with one hand in its pocket. It half turned, sweeping the other arm out, inviting Yani to the table.

Yani’s exhausted, frightened, starving mind considered this for a moment. The Minotaur had rescued him. Made unsuitable advances. Respected his request for it to stop. Could kill him at any time. Was offering him food and shelter…

Yani stumbled over to the table and collapsed into a chair. He couldn’t think, not now. Survival was all that mattered. He would accept the hospitality of the Minotaur, and simply pray that its advances would not be repeated.

The Minotaur sat next to him at the table, and they ate together in silence. Yani’s hands shook as he served himself, and he did his best not to devour the food like an animal. The Minotaur had surprisingly good table manners, using its utensils as one should; but presently, when they were both close to finishing their plates, it rested a hand on Yani’s thigh under the table. Yani’s heart began to pound, his eyes fixed on the remains of his food. At first he just twitched his leg away, but the Minotaur’s hand remained firm, fingers pressing into Yani’s flesh.

“I don’t like that,” Yani tried, quietly, meekly, afraid of the repercussions. The Minotaur slid its hand further up Yani’s thigh, fingers brushing under his shorts. “Stop touching me,” Yani said, even softer, but at those words the Minotaur instantly pulled away. Yani blinked, risking a quick glance up at it. It just sat there, watching him, its food forgotten.

It struck Yani then how lonely the Minotaur must be. If his own experience was anything to go by, most sacrifices to the Labyrinth were likely killed by the harpies. Who knew how long it had been since the Minotaur had been in the presence of a human? It was also a prince, and aiding lowly Yani out of the kindness of its heart.

“I truly appreciate your hospitality,” Yani said slowly, carefully, “But please, give me some space.”

The Minotaur stood, knocking back its chair, and quickly stepped away from Yani, putting a couple yards between them.

“Oh, wait!” Yani exclaimed in surprise, and the Minotaur froze, “That’s not what I meant. Please, come back, sit.”

The Minotaur promptly obeyed; it returned to the table, sitting down.

Something itched at the back of Yani’s mind. Something wasn’t right here.

“…Stand up,” he breathed.

The Minotaur stood.

“…Sit.”

It sat.

“Stand up and turn in a circle.”

The Minotaur obeyed.

“Jump.”

The Minotaur obeyed.

A deep horror washed over Yani. Something compelled the Minotaur to obey his commands, to the letter. Some horrible curse had stripped away the Minotaur’s autonomy, and handed it to Yani. For a moment Yani couldn’t fathom how dehumanizing that must feel – until he realized, he could.

Yani had been an indentured servant his whole life. From as soon as he could understand them, orders given by his masters were to be obeyed, to the letter, no matter how trivial or ridiculous – on pain of punishment. A rap across the knuckles, all the way up to flogging.

Yani had never had control over his life. He didn’t even have control over his death – that, too, was chosen for him.

Yani didn’t want that kind of control over another being. He couldn’t do that to a thinking, feeling creature – and clearly, the Minotaur was.

“I’m sorry!” Yani leapt to his feet, “I’m sorry, I didn’t know – I’ll never do it again, you don’t ever have to do what I say, please, I’m so sorry,” he pressed his hands to his face, on the brink of tears, “I swear, I’ll never order you to do anything, I promise, I swear.”

The Minotaur stared at him for a long moment, its eyes unreadable. Then it approached, slowly, cautiously, drawing close to Yani. Yani didn’t move, just held his hands to his face, near-petrified. The Minotaur slid its hands over Yani’s hips, teasing under the waistband of his shorts. Yani’s breath caught.

I can’t say stop.

“I don’t… want that,” he whimpered instead. The Minotaur ignored him, pulling him close, breathing hot on his ear, his neck. Its hands edged downwards, tugging the shorts around the curve of Yani’s rear. Yani’s hands flew down and grabbed the Minotaur’s wrists.

“Please,” was all he could think to say. He didn’t want this, of course he didn’t want this, but how else could he say no without overpowering the Minotaur’s will?

Yani was by no means a weakling, but the Minotaur was even stronger; it easily broke out of Yani’s grasp and seized his wrists in turn, twisting them behind his back and gathering them into one large hand. Yani yelped and squirmed, but he was helpless against the strength of the Minotaur. The creature pinned Yani to its chest, its free hand plunging down into Yani’s shorts to grope his ass.

Yani cried out, flinching away from the touch and unintentionally pressing himself against the growing hardness in the Minotaur’s sweatpants. One word and it would all stop – but he just couldn’t bring himself to do it. Not when his words had the power to override the Minotaur’s autonomy.

“Please,” he sobbed, tears finally escaping him – he was so tired, so exhausted, and every inch of him hurt – “I don’t want this!”

The Minotaur didn’t let go. Instead it pressed its muzzle into the crook of Yani’s neck, its hot breath snuffling, blowing away Yani’s hair and taking in his scent. Then it licked Yani, its tongue sliding out and drawing a long line up Yani’s neck behind his ear. Yani yelped and cringed at the sensation – unlike a human tongue, a bull’s tongue is sandpaper-rough. Yani squirmed as hard as he could, and that seemed to annoy the Minotaur. It snorted, spun Yani around, and threw him onto the bed.

As soon as his stomach made contact with the plush blankets Yani was scrambling away, crawling across the bed. The Minotaur snatched an ankle and yanked him back easily, and Yani gasped in pain as the furs and blankets dragged across his many scrapes and scratches. The Minotaur had Yani bent over the side of the bed now, his bare feet brushing the floor, searching for purchase. It pinned him in place with a heavy hand on the center of his back, its other hand divesting Yani of his shorts.

“Wai-mm!” Yani almost forced a stop, but he caught himself, biting his bit hard. He refused to impose his will over the Minotaur’s, even now.

It wasn’t worth it.

He pressed his face into the covers, letting his tears soak in.

Leon had told him he’d missed his calling as a whore.

When the Minotaur’s finger, warm and wet with spit, probed him, he knew how to relax. How to take it.

See how good you take it? You ought to live in my bed.

Yani was lost in a haze of fear and memories. His heart pounded in his throat as he choked on his tears. His hands clenched fistfuls of blanket. His feet gave up reaching for the floor, going slack as one finger inside him turned into two. He groaned at the pain and sensation, the fingers inside him reaching, groping, spreading. They left far too soon – he wasn’t ready, he wasn’t ready at all as the Minotaur’s hands gripped his hips, lifting and spreading him.

What followed was brutal. Yani cried openly, sobbing and moaning while the Minotaur fucked him. The Minotaur remained, as it had been, silent. Only its breath became somewhat louder, harsh and ragged with lust. Yani’s body was jolted with each painful thrust and he clung to the bed for dear life, for any sort of anchor.

The only mercy was that it didn’t last long. The Minotaur spilled its heat inside Yani and remained there for a minute, panting. Then it withdrew, releasing Yani, who slid off the bed and crumpled to the floor. He was as silent as the Minotaur, now – all cried out. He pressed his scratched forehead to the reed mats, the coolness emanating from the floor soothing the painful heat of his face. He heard the Minotaur’s heavy footsteps retreating to the bathroom, and water running before the door closed between them. Yani melted even further down then, curling up on his side on the floor.

Was this his fate, then? To be the Minotaur’s plaything?

Others had made decisions for Yani his whole life. Had he died and gone to the Underworld, only to be punished with the same plight? Was there no way out?

Something lit up in the back of Yani’s head. A way out. He felt around for his shorts and rose on his wobbling legs, putting them on. Then he looked up: at the exit.

There was door the Minotaur had carried him through on their arrival. It had been there the whole time. Yani had always been distracted by the food, or the Minotaur, but the door was there. Yani stumbled to it, placed his hands upon the filigreed knob.

He froze.

The Labyrinth would kill him. The harpies and ibis would shred him, the ghosts would suck out his soul, the rats would gnaw his bones.

He screwed his eyes shut.

At least with the Minotaur, he was alive. The Minotaur wanted him alive.

The Minotaur wants me.

Isn’t that enough, to be alive and wanted?

~~~

Masterlist, Next

Everything taglist (I think? let me know if I've got it wrong, and whether you'd like to continue to be tagged in this): @angst-after-dark, @flowersarefreetherapy, @sunshiline-writes

#whump #whump fic #whump writing #murmur of ground #cw violence #cw slavery #cw noncon #monsterfucking #no beta reader this one's coming out HOT #nsfwhump