But wings, guys, wings.

Just imagine it, the pack, all of Beacon Hills, but as harpy like creatures. Different wings to different subspecies. Large, arching, fluffy wings that molt and never stop growing, slim and agile wings that glide over water, colorful wings that catch the sun, smaller, dull wings meant for concealment and short distance swooping. 

And Stiles’ wings would be gorgeous, faded gold to brown, blackened at the tips, sensitive enough to have him shuddering at the right set of hands touching him. They’d be sleek, just his mother’s, tipped like his father’s, not built for power or display, but for speed, for maneuvering. 

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This is my story for the Cullrian Prompt Saturday, and my prompt was: “An AU where Dorian is the lord of the dead or underworld and Cullen happens to die :( and shows up at Dorian’s door step. Dorian feels no pity or emotion for anyone who shows up in his house, but that was soon about to change.” I had lots of fun writing this, so I hope you’ll like it!

Dorian hadn’t always been the god of the dead. He aspired for brighter things, in his youth, and quite literally, as there was no sun shining in the Underworld. He was at first the god of witchcraft and wished to help mortals discover their magical abilities. At the time, only a few knew about the powers running through them and kept the information like a taboo secret, but Dorian’s mission was to take that secret and spread it around, for magic was not something anyone should be afraid to possess. Dorian loved it, and so should all mages.

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Flinging myself into the sun would hurt less than that look of sorrow on Carol’s face after shooting down the wolf attacking the already-dead Alexandrian.

Falling through a wood-chipper would hurt less than watching her shed tears while internalizing the horrible events that just took place all by herself.

And this is to say, that if someone isn’t there to hold Carol the next time she needs it, so help me, I will find a way to do it myself.


Apparently Stephenie Meyers had not read many vampire books before writing Twilight. Vampire Lestat was an exception and Meyers probably took the vampire tips from Anne Rice - special skin, extraordinary beauty, no need of, well, toilet - but Rice was not impressed. She noted:

”Lestat and Louis feel sorry for vampires that sparkle in the sun. They would never hurt immortals who choose to spend eternity going to high school over and over again in a small town — anymore than they would hurt the physically disabled or the mentally challenged. My vampires possess gravitas. They can afford to be merciful.”

Hm, I´m not sure what to think about that, as a sister of a mentally disabled woman. I´m happy she uses the words “mentally disabled” instead of “retard” and notices that her vampires would not hurt them, but oh, her mocking “How pathetic!” tone.

And all that sparkling? Well, Dracula would feel sorry for the vampires who burn in the sun. Vampire rules change. Personally I prefer the vampires who walk happily in the sunlight, fear garlic, like the graveyards and old, ruining castles.