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February 5 - April 15, 2025
Mor’s gaze flickered from Violet to Shayne, then back to Violet. Once more to Shayne. “Put a shirt on before that glare off your chest blinds us all, you fool,” he said. “Don’t waste your breath, Mor. You know scolding him only increases his determination to disobey,” Cress muttered
Haha
“A human can only fake date a handsome fairy for so long before her heart starts to melt like hot butter—” “In the name of the sky deities, Shayne, I’m trying to read,” Cress piped up.
Readers hate being interrupted lol
she scribbled in a margin: What is the cost or worth of a single secret? Some would say secrets were the cause of destruction. Others might argue a secret was a necessary saviour. A secret could kill or save, depending on how it was used.
On the sidewalk, a childling wiped a tear from his eye. A larger male—likely the boy’s father—stood over him. At first, Luc turned away and continued on his quest, uninterested. But when the father’s voice lifted, and a pained squeal escaped the boy, Luc found himself in the air, appearing at the father’s side just in time to grab the fool’s swinging arm before it might swat the blubbering childling. It wouldn’t have been a hard strike—more like a frustrated jostle—but a father’s strike was a strike, nonetheless. The father’s startled gaze lifted to the fox. Luc’s dark, luminous eyes narrowed
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Yay Luc!
“There are a few rules around here,” she told him. “The first is: don’t leave things around like whoever left all this dairy by the entrance. The second is: make sure you pay your rent on time, which can be delivered by cheque right to my room across the hall or sent via e-transfer. The third is: no loud noises—” Dranian and Luc locked eyes. There would certainly be loud noises. There would certainly be stabbing, and the breaking of bones, and the wailing of pain. “—and the last one is easy. We all want to get along here. So, be nice.” Never in a million faeborn years would Dranian be nice.
“Don’t ever respond to a voice that enters your dreams. Not unless you want a stranger to take control of your slumbers. Not every dreamslipper is trustworthy—most will hurt you for their own gain if they get control.”
Dranian was the youngest one of his seven siblings, and the only one forced to stay away from the house all day, seven days a week. The only one his family wished would just not come home at all.
That is so sad
He stomped over branches and twigs, kicking aside rocks until he got there. He wasn’t angry. At least, he wasn’t angry at his family. He was angry at himself. Why had he been born as such a shameful being? Why did he lack the ability to control his illness? Why must he be the one to carry this weight on his shoulders? The sky deities had dealt him the cruellest of cards.
No Darnian be mad at them for not helping and accepting you!
Pathetic that his family hated him and wanted him gone and wished he was dead. Yet… he still loved them.
Two enemy fairies glided down the market aisles pushing a metal basket on wheels and bickering over each and every item that was placed into it. It seemed the only food they could settle on was ice cream. After that, each fairy added whatever they wanted to their stash, not bothering to ask each other’s opinion anymore.
Hating each other yet shoppign together hahahahah
“You don’t necessarily need to be left here. I’ll take whatever’s in this cart when I leave, North Fairy.” He nodded down to the basket on wheels. “Feel free to hop in.” Luc’s wicked smile broadened, and Dranian glared. “I will not climb into this silver basket before all these watching humans,” he stated. Luc shrugged. “Suit yourself then.” He leaned forward and took hold of both sides, ready to slip away with it. Dranian’s eyes widened. He grabbed the basket to keep it with him in the market, and the fairies locked eyes, tension and magic blurring the space between them. Dranian tugged a
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Just imagining a grown man jumping in a cart lol
The fifth was a new one that had only presented itself after he’d come to the human realm and accidentally stumbled into a horrifying, wide-open stable the humans called a “dog park.”
He rose from the couch and moseyed toward the door, ideas running through his mind of what he might say. He felt, “Hello, Human. Date me,” and, “Shall we start invading each other’s personal space?” wouldn’t sound as smart as they did in his head.
Had he been born a human, he might have become a therapist. Or a serial killer.
Realistically, either crime was worthy of a buttocks beating.
“Even after a year of living here, you guys still find ways to embarrass me.”
