The Cat of Laféron

“Wish me luck, my dear, for tonight I plan to make a fantastic mistake.”

But wasn’t that every night?

Esperance Valois stumbled to the door and turned back to a crowded table of sweating nobles. “Goodbye, my everlasting love!” he shouted out to the woman he’d met just an hour ago. “Farewell, my eternal rose!”

She wagged her kerchief at him as he teetered in the doorway,  words leaving her mouth in an incomprehensible, passionate jumble. And there were tears, but whether they were for Esperance or for her losses, he did not know.

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(Halloween) You People Are Monsters

Didn’t get to write anything new this Halloween but here’s a repost of some spooky vingettes 🙂

Having sex with a werewolf just before the moon’s rising was not Allen’s smartest idea.

Didn’t get to write anything new this Halloween but here’s a repost of some spooky vingettes 🙂

The Joker and the Thief

The stone wall of the musty cell felt cool against his bruised back. Slumped over in the corner, he tried not to think about the way his knees clattered together. Anguished wails ripped through the air from somewhere down the hall, filling him with terror anew.

Before long the door threw upon and jeering guards shoved a moaning prisoner inside, tossing him as if he were a heap of trash. Without even the strength to fight back, the quivering man let himself be shackled. Then he curled up into himself and sobbed.

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It Gets Better

I’m not like other girls. I’m a twenty-six-year-old gremlin who lives in the basement.

I’m not like other girls.

I don’t listen to radio pop, I listen to alt rock.

I don’t wear skirts, I wear zebra print skinny jeans.

I don’t watch Teen Wolf and Glee, I watch anime and Doctor Who.

I don’t read Twilight, I read yaoi.

I don’t whore around, wear makeup, or date normies like other girls my age.

Wait, that’s not right.

I’m not a teenage girl at all.

I’m a twenty-six-year-old gremlin who lives in the basement.

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You People Are Monsters

Having sex with a werewolf just before the moon’s rising was not Allen’s smartest idea.

Having sex with a werewolf just before the full moon’s rising was not Allen’s smartest idea. Matters were made worse when the obnoxious ghost from next door floated in.

“What’s up, bros?”

Romeo died at a frat party. Freak accident. For him, the party never ended.

“Hey, deadbrain,” growled the lycanthrope currently pumping his hips, “we’re in the middle of something.”

“By all means, carry on. How about I order pizza and we can hang out after you guys finish. That cool?”

Allen lifted his head up from the pillow to say, “Pizza would be great, actually.”

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Rabid

When he opens her up, she doesn’t care that they both look like monsters. 

(This story is NSFW)

With each thrust she gasps and claws harder at his back. His hips will grind her to dust and her soul will break under the pleasure. He’ll scatter her ashes across the bed, and she’ll suck his blood out from underneath her fingernails

When they finish she lies next to him and watches his chest heave with his breaths; up down, up down, up down. Like waves at sea.

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The Pretend Girlfriend

How fun it was to think that these gentlemen had no clue that the hair they twirled around their finger was fake, that the lips spilling sweet nothings were not a woman’s, or that the breasts their eyes would drift down to were not breasts at all.

V stood in the doorway, hesitating. The club’s padded carpet was no stranger to the bottom of his Oxfords, but this night felt different. Hanging from his arm was a woman with hair as straight as it was dark, cat-like eyes accentuated by carefully drawn lines of black, and a scarlet dress that hugged her thighs. Together, they slipped into a world of chatter, wine, and men in expensive black suits.

Actually, the woman at V’s side was no woman at all, and this would be the only time V would ever willingly link arms with him.

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