#also there's a whole story about how my mum was born half dead and my grandma gave her pomegranate juice and it healed her

[khodorkovskaya]

loool sometimes i forget how eastern european i am. yesterday my mum was showing my stepdad her homevideos from the 70s. and he was like "oh those people look so lovely, im sure they were so nice". and my mum was like "yeah they were all such good and kindhearted people! this one comited suicide, these two went to jail, this one tried to kill us". and another instant my stepdad asked why my grandma was wearing these huge glasses and my mum said "yeah she had really bad eyesight but then there was a miracle and now she has 20/20 vision".

[sexy-sapphic-sorcerer]

1: Magic is a Metaphor < 2: Morgana is a Lesbian < 3: Merlin is Gay < 4: Arthur is Bi

Do you remember when you were bullied in middle school? Because if you're reading this, I think it's fair to assume that you were. And your parents would say to you, 'that boy is just being mean to you because he likes you'. That's what this is.

Arthur is just so repressed. He has really bad daddy issues, and he doesn't know how to express his emotions, and he's really uncomfortable with physical intimacy, especially with other men, especially with Merlin. And this isn't me trying to psychoanalyse away his heterosexuality. It is a very evident part of his character.

And another big part of his character is that he has inherited all of these bigoted ideas about magic from his father that he has to work to overcome. Because, of course, Arthur himself is born of magic, but his dad is so ashamed of it that he hides the true circumstances of his birth from Arthur. Honestly, I don't know exactly how that would fit into this whole metaphor. I do have a half-formed theory that it could be interpreted as an allegory for intersex identity, I know that a lot of people headcanon Arthur as trans, so idk there could be something there. But regardless, it is only through his relationship with Merlin that he is able to overcome this magicphobia, because he realises: how could it be wrong when everything about Merlin is so right. And I just feel like there's a metaphor in there somewhere.

Of course, I have to mention this iconic quote from the audio commentary of the final episode: when the executive producer refers to Arthur taking off his royal seal to give back to Guinevere as passing over "the last vestige of his heterosexu- oh sorry, I mean his marriage." So, they knew exactly what they were doing.

I also thought I would just draw your attention to the fact that at one point Arthur says, "I only care about my men, they're more than friends, more than brothers." Now, I think we can all agree that out of context, that is a very gay thing to say, and yet somehow the context is even gayer, because Arthur is pretending to be talking about the Knights of the Round Table, but he's actually talking about Merlin, how Merlin is the only person he cares about, more than a friend. And then Merlin responds, "I understand. I wish I didn't, but I do." It's barely subtext at that point. This of course, brings me to my final argument:

Arthur risked his life to save Merlin at least eight times. It could be more than that, I genuinely lost count. And you have to keep in mind that Arthur is the King of Camelot and he doesn't have any heirs. It is quite important that he stays alive. And yet anytime that Merlin is in the slightest bit of danger, he will just drop everything to protect him.

And it's really only in those moments where he's faced with the thought of losing Merlin that he shows him genuine emotion. Such as in this scene (which was cut out of 4x02 purely because it was too gay) where Arthur is planning to sacrifice himself to protect Merlin, again, and he gives Merlin his mother's sigil, the only thing he has left of his dead mum and he wants Merlin to have it as something to remember him by. Also, apparently in medieval times giving someone your family crest was basically a marriage proposal, so that's pretty gay.

You know what else is pretty gay? Telepathically communicating with Merlin and then immediately leaving Gwen in the middle of an active war. This is literally the last time that Arthur and Gwen ever see each other. Poor Gwen.

In conclusion, Merlin is the story of gay sorcerers and bisexual knights getting into love triangles. Everyone in this show is queer and you cannot tell me otherwise.

[swallow17]

My uncle just died and it's pretty freaking inconvenient for me right now.

Well, he hasn't just died. Or maybe yes, I couldn't know. I mean, I could have asked my mum, but when I called her, like half an hour ago, she was having the biggest of meltdowns - understandable, of course - and I simply couldn't bring myself to ask for details. That and the fact that I could hear one of the neighbours in the background saying "we're waiting for the forensic team" made me think that maybe he's been dead for a while.

I'm still trying to figure out if I'm sorry about it or not. When I read about it in one of my family's WhatsApp groups, the only thing I could think was "Fuck, I was about to go to the swimming pool". I had plans for the day. Started off hitting the gym like the gymrat I'm trying to become in order to look gorgeous in my wedding, then shower and healthy breakfast, then Excel tables trying to figure out budgets, incomes and whatnot. And this afternoon I planned to go for a swim and then go to the capital to organize some things for the wedding.

And suddenly, he freaking died.

I called my mum, but she couldn't speak. My dad is kinda disastrous with these things, so I assumed I should call my brothers and organize us - I was right, they didn't know. One of them lives faraway, so I talked to him and my sister-in-law and they'll arrive tonight. We don't even know if there's going to be a funeral, and how and when the service will be held, but anyway my mum needs us. My sister-in-law talked about cooking for my mum and all of that and it kinda made me feel better, 'cause sometimes it's tiring to be the only girl in the family. My other brother is at work, but he finishes around 15:00 pm so I will pick him up and we'll go to the place where I was born, to support my mum.

To try to feel sorry about the dead of a man who once tried to strangle me.

Don't get me wrong, it wasn't like that all the time - not with me, at least. We probably will never know how he was, 'cause the whole story is full of secrets, lies, half-truths, interests, chaos. My grandma and him lived alone together since my grandpa died, and he was pretty possessive of her. I do not know to what extent he was physically abussive, but I can tell he was a psychological abuser. My grandma felt compelled to serve him, to do everything for him even when her health was decaying. When she needed to be put in a care facility - 'cause her living with my family was unacceptable for my uncle -, he tried to make her recover so she could go back to live with him, the two of them, alone together.

To nobody's surprise, forcing an old lady to act as if she was still a middle-aged woman took her to her grave. I called the shots that time, 'cause mum was having a panic attack, and I decided to bury her with her husband and mother, as she had been asking for months as she felt her time was coming.

And then my uncle arrived to the facility, reclaimed the body to incinerate her and take her with him back home, I refused and he tried to strangle me. Luckily for me, Dad was around.

So yeah, I cannot tell that I'm sorry that man died.

Nonetheless, he wasn't always like that. When my grandma was still strong and active, when she was more my godmother and less an old lady I had to take care of, he was a nice uncle. He gifted me my first kitty. He liked to talk about books with me; he bought a super big book about cetaceans 'cause that was my seven-year-old hiperfixation. He read the whole freaking thing with me; he knew a lot about orcas and belugas at the end of it. He also gave me the super-extended DVD version of The Return of the King, just because I loved The Lord of the Rings. He bought and read the two books I published when I was in my early twenties. He even tried to get me to sign them. But, by then, I was offended by the distance between him and my mother, the way he spoke about her, the way he treated my grandma. And I was polite but cold.

I guess that's something you can say about me. Polite but cold.

He was my mother's brother. He was a kinda deficient brother, especially comparing him to my own brothers, for example. He was a horrible brother-in-law to my dad. A bad son to my grandmother. He was a fickle uncle to us.

But I guess he was my uncle, after all.

I'm not hungry at all today. I guess there's still enough time for a dip in the pool.

[neteluvr-library]

okay im back for my weekly read through of cardigan!! idk why i choose to do this at 11 pm at night but that's when im most unhinged so its kinda funny letting my unfiltered thoughts through??? but don't worry im only doing two chapters today bc i really want to do the last three chapters together!! NOW THAT WILL BE INTENSE. i love DBTAC sm. It's literally one of my favorite taylor songs ever bc of u--i slept on lover before but its one of my favorites now. I never really paid to the lyrics because simply because I didn't know this song when you first posted, but now I am so appreciative of the lyrics because it flows so perfectly with the story. so I'm very excited to read this chapter ):

He couldn’t say no to you, he realises. He would follow you anywhere in this world, do anything you asked of him, regardless how stupid or reckless or crazy it was. He would always follow you, for the rest of time, and he was happy about it. 

No because Neteyam is such a lover boy. everything in his DNA is fierce and i think that's very applicable to the way he loves. I don't think he could do anything half-assed which is why I love the way he loves atan ):

Things happen in life sometimes, and it makes you lose your ability to react. There was no reaction, definitely no overreaction.

I literally thought she was going to die I was like no way this just happened how fucking unfortunate 😃 BBYGIRL IS FINALLY LIVING HER LIFE NOW THIS???? atan will not get a break for the next year or so for her life-

You hoped that maybe you tried hard enough, the last 6 hours can just be erased from your life, from world.

NO BC I KNOW ATAN FELT SO NUMB IN THIS MOMENT 😭 but also i was and still am living for the angst please its just too good

First step, respiratory fluids. You remove a sterile cotton swab and swab your pharynx as thoroughly as possible and place it in a tube. That’s easy enough.

This entire chapter was anxiety-inducing like it literally felt like something out of the movie contagion or any other pandemic movies (very weird considering we lived throughout a pandemic) but the whole sequence of atan (PLEASE I JUST TYPED ATAN AND IT GOT CORRECTED TO SATAN LMFAO) studying her samples in the lab adds to the anxiety and was a genius move on your part. it was easy to imagine in my head because you were so descriptive but also it's shows a lot about atan's character and how strong she is (despite the fact she doesn't believe). like most people would freak out, rightfully so, but she just goes straight into action to figure out what is going on. (LOL soon you'll get better just started playing now).

...like your mum was saying it had to be done back on Earth about a century ago

one thing that blows my mind is that avatar literally takes place only 150 years after the year 2000 which is the year i was born in so it's like not even that far off (is that a covid reference lol) from our current timeline. like yeah I'll be dead but my grandkids and even great grandkids will be alive in 2100) i really hope we don't end up like them lmfaoooo..

THE FIVE STAGES OF GRIEF STAGE I: DENIAL

I LITERALLY LOVED THIS SO MUCHHHHH ITS LIKE A MOVIE SEQUENCE!!!! going through the different stages of grief always hits in literature, but i think you captured it so well in a way that was entertaining to read, but also cathartic? (but I'll elaborate more on that in seven)

With those thoughts still floating in your mind and a Xanax on your tongue, you made your way to the comfortable bed and crashed without a dream in sight. 

NOT THE XANAX 😭 POOR ATAN!!!!! she is going through it rn.

He gave you the quickest look known to man then quickly busied himself with literally anything else. “No reason, just focused on the task at hand.”

EASTER EGG!!!!! and i'm literally just catching this now 😭 obviously i know what its implying but im kinda disappointed i didn't notice until now? i need to be a more careful reader bc sometimes i skip over details like this that set the stage for something else. honestly i think i just focused on the bolded words instead of everything but like DESCRIBING BODY LANGAUGE AND ACTIONS IS JUST AS IMPORTANT FOR CONTEXTS AHHH i will do better. but also, you're a mastermind because you already had this planned 😒

Neteyam shifted uncomfortably in front of you and looked… nervous, you realised. What the hell was going on with everyone?

LITERALLY LOOKING BACK I DIDNT KNOW WHAT WAS GONNA HAPPEN BUT I STILL DIDNT EXPECT WHAT YOU DID i literally thought everyone was being sus for no reason

...if he too was struggling to catch his breath at the torture of knowing he can’t have you, claim you, right now, right in this second, right here.

I'm sure he was...lol

...like they were urging you to come closer so they can spill their long-forgotten dreams to you

so dreamy ): i love the idea of plants being like friends you can spill your secrets to and they have open ears that don't judge you

You didn’t pass judgement, or make him feel bad for sharing his feelings, and he felt like he could tell you all the hardest truths his heart has always craved to speak out loud.

GOD so most of the times i can't relate to romance stories because i have only had one failed relationship and honestly i haven't been truly in love, but i do know what its like to have a soulmate like that (one of my best friends) so it warms my heart to know neteyam has someone like that and by relating it to my experience i think it really clarified just how strong their bond is and made me realize that damn you only get that type of love (whether platonic or romantic) once in your life so you should hold it tight when you do find it

...but he also knew that being selfish is not a trait that came naturally to you. You have always respected the deep bond Neteyam had to his family and his people and you always used to tell him how proud of him you were for how strong he was, for the lengths he was willing to go to to protect and nurture those bonds. 

Reading this little portion made me think about how different Atan, Vol, and Vi are (they have a lot of similarities tho). They're all fierce and multi faceted characters but I specifically thought about Atan and Vol because you wrote that Vol was more selfish in nature at the beginning of Cruel Summer and then compare her to Atan, who is selfless from the beginning. I've always appreciated your female characters, and i know each one has bits and pieces of you, but I just love how you're able to write so many different female characters without them being too "Mary Sue" or having the same personality. it's great that each one of Atan, Vol, and Vi are easily distinguishable from each other.

The scraps would have been enough, and now even those were brutally taken from you, like everything else in this life. 

There is definitely a different type of pain that comes from grieving something that is alive and in front of you. it must make atan feel so helpless and lost ):

“Did you tell her?” 

I JUST REMEMBERED WHAT I ORIGINALLY THOUGHT!!! GIRL BECAUSE THIS ENTIRE TIME I THOUGHT NETEYAM WAS GOING TO CONFESS HIS LOVE FOR ATAN AND THATS WHY EVERYBODY WAS SO SECRETIVE LMFAOOO IT JUST MADE SO MUCH SENSE IN MY HEAD like yeah neteyam loves atan and wants to say sorry and confess and that's why everybody is so jumpy because he wants them to keep it a secret so atan doesn't fight out but neteyam was too stubborn to actually do it ... silly me. but next time i won't be so silly and will be on guard for any sus actions...

You wanted to be in this body just a little while longer, because, in this body, it was easy to forget the realities of your actual life.

Me except instead of being in an Avatar body, its reading Avatar fanfics because I want to avoid any responsibilities I have (lowkey supposed to be writing my personal statement but i chose to do this instead AHAHAH)

...discover themselves, make decisions and choices that would lead to a happy, fulfilled life, rather than a proud and accomplished one.

And to that I question: what draws the distinction between the two? i think that would be an interesting conversation lol

Despite never seeing anything that he could deem suspicious, the images of his baby brother taking for himself what was his, what should be his, haunted him and made him sick to his stomach. 

So claim your woman . So, how i pointed how the difference between your female characters, I also want to point out the difference between your Neteyams. Mainly this Neteyam and Cruel Summer Neteyam. Sure, they were both selfess and put their obligations first but it's interesting how they diverge and are almost like opposites? but i love how Cardigan Neteyam goes against his obligation while Cruel Summer Neteyam ultimately succumbs to it. like okay, the circumstances are different but its interesting because it shows how you can characterize Neteyam in different ways (even MiM Neteyam is completely different). this fandom was literally given CRUMBS but they have managed to keep him alive through the 8734987349 different variations and characterizations of him and i love it. James cameron slept on neteyam. I feel like he give us was like a blank canvas almost. Like neteyam has defining traits, but you can take the defining traits and completely change who is with each version of him. okay that got a little long whoops....ALSO PLS I NEED YOU TO DO A NETEYAM POLL of which neteyam is their favorite 😭😤

“There are perks that come with being an Omatikaya, you know? You can make your bow out of the wood of the Home Tree… and you can choose a mate.” 

Classic love triangle moment lol...CUE THE DRAMA

GEEZE THIS TOOK ME AN HOUR. i feel like im picking up on so much insight that i didn't before so i actually really love rereading. though i try my best to annotate anything my mutuals post IT TAKES UP SO MUCH TIMEEEEE i just love writing every little thought

lllicit Affairs | Chapter VI: Death by a Thousand Cuts

Pairing: Neteyam x Human/Avatar!Reader

Chapter I Chapter II Chapter III Chapter IV Chapter VI Chapter VII Chapter VIII Chapter IX Chapter X

Synopsis: You and Neteyam both have a dark secret that would change everything between you - and neither of you are willing to share.

Warnings: angst, some fluff, Lo'ak x reader, jealous!Neteyam, both main characters thirsting for each other, mentions of lab work, disease, blood, cursing.

Word Count: 7,2k words

A/N: Chapter 6 is the chapter that sets EVERYTHING in motion for what's to come. There is a LOT to come, a lot of drama and angst, maybe some smut (? 😉) and this chapter is meant as a stepping stone to the beginning of the end. Also, realised I forgot to ever mention, that if the dialogue is ever italicised, that usually means the conversation is in Na'vi, I don't know how I have never made it clearer, but here we are.

Thank you so much for everyone who's been reading and asking to be tagged, I never expected this to gain any traction and I am so grateful for people enjoying it x

My heart, my hips, my body, my love Trying to find a part of me that you didn't touch Gave you too much but it wasn't enough But I'll be all right, it's just a thousand cuts

One second. 

“Just one second, Neteyammm!”, you whined, as he was trying to remove the blanket from your currently very comfortable and very warm body. 

“It’s late, come on! Early bird catches the worm, isn’t that what you people say?”

“Nobody says that, I don’t know who told you this lie.” 

“It was you!!” he says, and he’s laughing at your whinging while trying to remove the blanket. He’s not trying that hard, considering he would make an easy job out of the task if he used a tenth of his actual force, but he couldn’t bear the thought of bringing you any unnecessary distress. You had enough of that in your life, and he wanted to be a source of comfort for you, a shelter in the storm. 

You scooted on one side of the bed close to the edge, and left a big gap which you brought to his attention by patting it aggressively. 

“Press the button on the audio player and lay with me, please? I don’t feel like going out today.”

He couldn’t say no to you, he realises. He would follow you anywhere in this world, do anything you asked of him, regardless how stupid or reckless or crazy it was. He would always follow you, for the rest of time, and he was happy about it. 

A song he liked came on, one that he’s heard you play before and there was no doubt in his mind that he liked it better when you sang it. He circled the bed and lay in it, next to you, in the dark. 

“Thank you, light of my life.” You attached yourself to him, arms sprawled across his bare chest and legs carelessly placed on top of abdomen and hips, and sighed contently. He could feel your warm breaths on his neck, leaving goosebumps in their wake. He turned his head to you and placed a small kiss on top of your head and listened to the soft tune filling up the room. 

“Oh, goddamn, my pain fits in the palm of your freezing hand

Taking mine, but it's been promised to another

Oh, I can't stop you putting roots in my dreamland

My house of stone, your ivy grows and now I'm covered in you”

“You’re annoying.”

“I know I am, but you love me anyway.”

I do, Neteyam thought. I really do…

Things happen in life sometimes, and it makes you lose your ability to react. There was no reaction, definitely no overreaction. You stared at the vial of blood that shattered all across the floor, all across you and your mind was blank. Almost robotically, you made your way to one of the benches and got some paper rolls and the IMS laying next to it. You carefully cleaned all of it, and spit whatever made its way to your mouth to the floor to be removed. When you were sure everything was gone, you went to the sink and removed your goggles and gloves, and scrubbed yourself clean. You felt yourself moving, picking up a bucket of water with some floor cleaner, felt yourself adding disinfectant to it and moping thoroughly, but it was like an out-of-body experience. Like you were merely a puppet executing orders from above. Cleaning everything took about an hour, after which you made your way back to your room slowly, deliberately. 

You didn’t sleep. You spent the whole night looking over everything you and the rest of the scientists have ever found out about this virus. You didn’t know its way of transmission. Maybe you had nothing to worry about, maybe it’s not by blood. You knew it’s not by air, you’ve seen plenty of people infected whose family was fine. So even if you do get infected, the people at the lab should be fine. Your friends would be fine. He would be fine. 

Next, incubation period. That’s a tough one, in-vitro studies show it takes the virus anywhere from 2 to 12 months to show symptoms. You don’t know how that changes in humans. You don’t know any of this shit for humans. You could be perfectly fine, you could die within the month. The thought made your blood run cold. 

You sat in your chair for the remainder of the night. Unmoving, unthinking. 

That’s how Norm found you.

“Hey, Ace. What are you doing up?”

You scrambled for a lie.

“Just woke up, actually. Listen, if you are going to check on the boy, can you please bring my supplies to the tent and tell the Sullys I won’t be in today? I was too exhausted to run any experiments yesterday so I will do it today.” 

“Oh… is everything alright? You haven’t missed a day in the village since you got your Avatar.”

“Yeah, everything’s fine, just worried about the boy and want to get to the bottom of this sooner rather than later, if possible.”

“Alright, I can bring you back some of his blood to run as well?”

“NO!” 

Norm’s eyes widened in shock at your response and you knew you fucked up, you knew you slipped up. Calm yourself… 

“It’s just not necessary at the moment since I have other blood and I don’t want to overwhelm him, if it’s not imperative. I will retrieve some blood when I check on him tomorrow.”

Norm looked at you with a concerned look, but eventually relented.

“Ok, whatever you think, Ace.” 

“Thanks, Norm.” 

“Let me know what you find tonight. I’ll tell Jake, but they might not be happy with you.”

“You can explain it’s an emergency, I’m sure they’ll understand.”

 

You struggled to get up and get your legs to not want to collapse beneath you. Eventually, you made your way to the sink and washed, you scrubbed your face as hard as you could without removing a layer of skin, and your teeth until you felt the familiar taste of metal coat your teeth. You hoped that maybe you tried hard enough, the last 6 hours can just be erased from your life, from world. You hoped it could undo the damage that would plague you for the rest of your most likely very short life. 

Luckily, most scientists seemed to be out. Claire was teaching Na��vi kids English at Grace’s old school that Jake deemed fit to be reopened, Max left with Norm to check on the situation of the village, and most of the Avatars would be out on missions or training with Jake. You made your way to the quiet halls to one of the labs, and prepared for your long day ahead. This will be hard to do by yourself, but not impossible. 

First step, respiratory fluids. You remove a sterile cotton swab and swab your pharynx as thoroughly as possible and place it in a tube. That’s easy enough. Next comes the blood. Finding a vein has always been hard for people to do on you, and it’s not gotten any easier in time, so after poking yourself a few times in the wrong place, you manage to get enough blood to run experiments on. 

Hours of sample preparation, incubation, pipetting and running went by at an excruciatingly slow pace, like the universe was revelling in making every second of torture last forever. You thanked your lucky stars of the progress made in lab equipment and that you didn’t have to spent days on one PCR, like your mum was saying it had to be done back on Earth about a century ago. Regardless, it took most of the day for you to do everything you needed, check for all the proteins and markers you knew were deregulated with this virus, and by the early hours of night, you were done. 

Aș people were starting to return to the hub as another day was nearing its end, you retreated back to your bedroom to work on the data analysis. You did not want to see anyone, did not want to speak to anyone until you knew at least some things. The less you talked, the less lies that had to come out of your mouth, and that seemed ideal to you. 

Inputting the data and having to wait on some software to give you your literal death sentence felt so tragic is was almost comical, and you had to stop and ask yourself if you were some serial killer in a past life to warrant all the pain and misery life seemed adamant to throw at you. For the first time in so long you couldn’t even remember, things were going… well. You were strong, and doing well, and lived outside of the walls of this lab. You had a chance at something more, you had a chance at maybe one day healing and working through your issues and maybe even coming out the other side a better, healthier version of yourself. You had a chance at love.

And there it was… positive. One second.

THE FIVE STAGES OF GRIEF  STAGE I: DENIAL

Your blood became poison in the span of half a day, but at least you now knew it wasn’t transmitted through air. That means no one else would have to suffer because of you. The thought made you weirdly calm, and you realised you didn’t care about your own health all along. No, you weren’t sad anymore, just relieved. A wide smile appeared on your face at the results, and you jumped out of the chair with enthusiasm at the great news. Everybody would be ok. Norm, Max, they would all be ok. You will handle all the virus experiments and blood samples from now on. They wouldn’t have reason to doubt you or question you, not when it made most sense anyway, since you were always in the village and knew the protocols and techniques the best, anyway. You would go on the same way as you had, and no one had to know or suffer because of your mistakes. 

With those thoughts still floating in your mind and a Xanax on your tongue, you made your way to the comfortable bed and crashed without a dream in sight. 

You were up before dawn again, and ready to get started on your day at the village. You were looking forward to gun training with Jake, and finally putting those years of practice to good use. You found Norm deep in thought in the link room, and he didn’t register you walking in until you patted his shoulder and he jumped out of his skin.

 

“Jesus, Ace. You scared the shit out of me.” 

“I noticed. Why so jumpy, Norm?” 

He gave you the quickest look known to man then quickly busied himself with literally anything else. “No reason, just focused on the task at hand.”

“…turning on the linkpod?” 

“No one likes a smartass, you know?” 

“So how was the village yesterday? How is the boy?” 

“He’s alright, still not great, but his vitals are stable for now.” You noticed he did not answer your question about the village, and found slight panic rising in your chest.

“Is everything okay? Did something happen in the village?” 

“No, Ace, everything’s fine. You don’t have to worry about everything, you know. How did the experiments go yesterday?” 

“The virus is not airborne, it seems to be transmitted by blood, so we need to be very careful handling samples.” 

“We always are. But good work, good to have some concrete evidence finally. I’ll look over your analysis soon.”

“You know, I’m not quite done with it, so maybe wait and we can look over it together?”

“Sure, that makes sense.”

You didn’t buy Norm’s pathetic attempts at deflecting the subject of the village, but you did not want to fight him so early in the day, so you guess you had to find out what happened for yourself. You woke up in your Avatar body soon enough, and could already tell the village was already awake and buzzing with the perspective of a new day. The guitar sitting on the ground next to your sleeping mat caught your eye, and you smiled softly at the memory which now seems a life away. Your fingers lingered on the chords and you strummed it gently a few times, enjoying the sounds that seemed to settle in your heart. Adjusting your braids in the small mirror you brought with you a few weeks ago, you made your way out of your tent and straight into Neteyam’s chest with a loud thud. 

“What the fuck?” You say, indignantly and then look up to find Neteyam watching you with an unreadable expression adorning his beautiful face. 

“Hi.” He says, and tries to muster a small smile. 

“Hi…? Is there any particular reason you have decided to attack me first thing in the morning?” 

“I was just coming to get you, I heard the guitar playing. I didn’t think you would be running straight into me. Are you ready? We can spend the morning tracking a herd of Talioang that the hunter party spotted a few clicks south of the village. It will be good practice for you.” 

“…alright? Can I get some food first? I’m famished.”

Neteyam shifted uncomfortably in front of you and looked… nervous, you realised. What the hell was going on with everyone?

“I have food that Ma packed for us, we can eat in the forest? I’d really rather get a move on as soon as possible, this will most likely take most of today, anyway.”

“Is there a particular reason you seem so eager for me to leave? You and Norm have both been acting weird today, and you are both terrible liars.”

Neteyam gave you a hard look. “Let’s go, Y/N. Unlike what you like to think, you don’t need to know everything, and not everything concerns you. Let’s go, now.” Nothing’s changed, you realised bitterly. Last night was just a fluke and you hated yourself in that moment for letting your guard down. 

“You can be a real dick sometimes, Neteyam.” You said and took off without looking at him. 

You ran for about 5 clicks without checking behind you, knowing full well he was following you, your hearing being one of the many senses that heightened in this body. You stopped suddenly at the sight of a huge footprint, one you could identify as the Sturmbeest, or a Talioang, like it was known to the Na’vi. Soon enough, you saw the ground littered with them, and began carefully tracking the beasts.

“Alright. How far would you say they are and which direction?” Neteyam asked, approaching you slowly. He was back to teaching mode, and you tried your best to learn, instead of recoiling and telling him to go to hell, which is what you really wanted to do. 

You touched the ground and felt it with your fingers, trying to assess the moisture level and deepness of the mark. You thought about for a while.

“I’d say they’re quite fresh. Maybe this morning? Taloioang move slowly, about 1 click every hour or two, so I’d say we’ll find them about 2 clicks east?”

He didn’t even have to touch the ground to be able to assess it. He was impressive. 

“Good. Let’s go. We shouldn’t run, they have good hearing and the wind is blowing east, which means they’ll be able to smell us if we’re not careful. We will take a roundabout way and approach them from the south.” 

You both made your way through the forest and it was your turn to follow him, although you stayed close behind and tried to look around you and pick up on clues, tiny sounds and movements, trying to learn, trying to see. “Eyes on the tracks, Y/N.” 

You rolled your eyes, but did as you were told. Eventually, Neteyam let you deem the appropriate time to stray from the tracks and move south to avoid being spotted. Soon enough, you saw the herd of prodigious beings, bathing in a shallow lake. You made your way slowly, sneaking on the ground, with Neteyam close to you, and you felt his arms grazing your sides every inch of the way. 

The herd was protecting the calves, 5 in total, playing and splashing in the clear water. You watched in amazement, just enjoying the view of these seemingly ferocious beasts that in the moment, felt more like a family watching their children play at the local pool. You couldn’t believe the beauty and mild predisposition, the complex nature of these animals whose equivalents were long gone on Earth, long decimated by humans and their needless desire for wealth and acquisition, for mindless cruelty. You felt your stomach drop at the realisation that soon, this could be Pandora, if you didn’t fight will all your being in the upcoming war. 

You felt a sudden gentle pressure on your lower back, a pressure you quickly identified as Neteyam’s hand and you shuddered at the touch. He neared his mouth to your ears, and you felt his warm breath tickling your neck, a sudden warmth pooling in your lower abdomen. 

“You’re not allowed to kill anything yet, but I want you to show me how you would go about it. Show me your bow work, how would you aim from this position.”

You slowly removed your bow from from your person and sat up, in a now crouched stance, and loaded the arrow, doing your best to accommodate for the uncomfortable position you were in and the tight space you were sharing with another person. You held your breath, engaged your core, and aimed as if you were going to release your arrow on the target about 300m away. Neteyam’s large hand touched your upper thigh, by your left hip and squeezed gently. Your arm dropped suddenly and snapped your head in his direction. He didn’t react to your sudden snap, instead talking lowly, so as to not give your location away. “Your leg is not in a position by which you can maximise release. You will have more power in the shot if you place this knee on the ground and lean into it.” 

You wanted to take that hand and either break it or redirect it on other parts of your body that felt like they would explode if they didn’t feel him, have his touch provide the relief that was desperately yearned for, needed. You wanted to scream at him or make him coax the screams out of you like a war-cry, wild and desperate. You wanted to kill him, you wanted him to kill you, slowly and painfully, taking his time on your body until you were falling apart at the seams around him. You hated him, you loved him. You hated him.

You gave him a hard look, an angry look directed at your thigh, and he removed his hand from you. You wondered if he knew, knew what he was doing, wondered if he felt the same way, if he too was struggling to catch his breath at the torture of knowing he can’t have you, claim you, right now, right in this second, right here. You hoped he did, hope it ate him alive, the yearning and the desire. Because that’s what it was doing to you, what he was doing to you. You turned your attention back to the herd and adjusted your position based on his advice. He was right, you could tell right away, as you felt a lot more power when aiming the arrow this time. 

“Much better. We can go now, we will give the location to the hunting party and the will be able to secure us dinner for a couple of weeks from the back of a couple of Ikrans.”

 

You made your way out of their surroundings, and slowly started walking back to the village. After about half an hour, he stopped on a rock and removed the food he was carrying in a pouch. You didn’t join him, preferring to keep your distance and thus a clear mind, not being able to afford being weak around him anymore. 

“I thought you were famished.” He says, with a slight smile. You shook your head and turned around, taking in the views of the forest, distracting yourself with the flowers reaching out their neon green tendrils towards you. You kneeled next to one, and touched them gently, enjoying the way they cupped around your hand and tugged, like they were urging you to come closer so they can spill their long-forgotten dreams to you. You heard him sigh loudly.

“Sorry for being a dick. Just had a fight with mum and dad, and I took it out on you. I shouldn’t have, and I am sorry. Come eat, please? I don’t want you passing out on me, you’re not as easy to carry as you used to be when you were human.” 

You remained on your knees still, focused on only the plants and your gentle tug-of-war. You knew how much pressure Neteyam was under, has been for pretty much his entire life. A prodigy created… or made, no one could really know for sure, he began training when most babies learn to walk, and speak, and play. He has never had a childhood the way Lo’ak, or Kiri, or Tuk, or pretty much any other Na’vi children did, mostly fleeting moments of bliss in between a lot more moments of stress and struggle. He never complained, though. Not out loud, not to anyone else but you, once he realised you were a safe haven from the storm. You didn’t pass judgement, or make him feel bad for sharing his feelings, and he felt like he could tell you all the hardest truths his heart has always craved to speak out loud. You have always wanted to protect him from the world, a world that demanded so much of him, that asked for a sacrifice of which it was undeserving. Being Olo’yektan, leading the people, being the one person everyone relied on was a great honour, a great achievement - one you didn’t think he wanted, but was never given the chance to decline. 

“What happened?” 

You walked slowly towards the rock he was laying on, and sat at its foot, crossing your legs on the slightly damp grass. You grabbed a piece of jerky from the pile of food and slowly chewed through it, humming in appreciation at the smoky taste and rich flavour of the meat. 

Neteyam grimaced and didn’t look at you, choosing to focus instead of his arm guards, picking at something that was clearly not there. “More sacrifices I need to make in the name of the future, of the people.” 

“I see you still haven’t learnt to say no, even after all this time apart.” 

Neteyam’s hand froze in midair, his eyes widening slightly - it was the first time you brought up the year apart. He braced himself for what he thought was the beginning of the end, of you finally demanding answers he didn’t think would ever satisfy you, but no other words left your lips.  

“I can’t say no. I owe my parents everything I have, everything I am. This village, this life, is all I know. My dad gave up on everything he knew to stand up for our people, to make sure we’d get a future worth living, a family worth saving, a world still worth fighting for. He became Olo’yektan despite all that stood against him because he loved my mum, loved us, even then, even before we were born. My grandpa died defending this village, watching home tree get decimated in front of his eyes, with only the people’s safety on his mind and tongue. I see that bow that my mum cherishes like a gift from Eywa herself and I want to be worthy of it, someday. And if it means giving up some things, maybe that’s just how it’s meant to be.” 

“Maybe whatever you’re giving up is making room for something ever better, Neteyam. Sometimes we want something so bad, we can’t see the forest for the trees.” 

He looks at you confused for a second.

“That’s a saying. What I’m trying to say is maybe you are over focused on something you want right now, that you think is the best thing for you, but maybe you just are not focusing on the bigger picture. Maybe in the future, whatever you’re giving up now will make room for something that was much better for you all along.”

Disappointment filled his chest at your words. Neteyam looked at you with deep sadness marking his features, and he could see you were trying to think of things to say that could make him feel better. In all honesty, he wanted - needed - you to tell him to be selfish, and trust his gut, and follow what he knew was right in his heart, but he also knew that being selfish is not a trait that came naturally to you. You have always respected the deep bond Neteyam had to his family and his people and you always used to tell him how proud of him you were for how strong he was, for the lengths he was willing to go to to protect and nurture those bonds. 

You felt an overwhelming sense of grief at the realisation that you will never get to see him become Olo’yektan, see him become the man everybody knew he was. He would never be yours, and although that painful conclusion had settled in your soul and had time to scar in all the time you knew him, a new wound, deeper, bloodier, deadlier, tore your heart apart at the thought you would not even be able to watch from afar. You would have been satisfied with scraps, just watching him rule, and be, and love someone else and imagining it was you. You never thought you’d get more than that anyway, never had any delusions for more. The scraps would have been enough, and now even those were brutally taken from you, like everything else in this life. 

You needed to leave, now. 

“Should we head back? It’s getting late.”

You walked back in deep, uncomfortable silence. Eclipse made the nature shine and glimmer with colours your sadness dulled to muted tones. There was light coming from the village and you realise how badly you wanted to be alone, in your tent and read, or watch a movie or a show, and ignore this world for a little while while you licked your newly-opened wounds. Tonight was a communal dinner around the big bonfire in the centre of the village, and you felt grateful your presence would not be missed in such a crowd. You’ve come to love these dinners, another one of the many ways the tribe connected to the village and to each other, but tonight you couldn’t entertain even the thought long enough to count.

“Can you please tell your family I am sorry, but I will probably head to bed early. I’ll be early for breakfast tomorrow, I promise.” 

“I can do that. I’ll see you tomorrow.”

You nodded absentmindedly and closed the flap of the tent shut.

Neteyam watched as you left him, still reeling from your conversation. Much like you, he just wished to hide in his family’s tent and pretend for a night things are different, that they are better. Actually, if we are talking about wishes, he wishes he could be in your tent. In all honestly, dealing with you on a day to day basis, seeing you, your body, touching it more and longer than he knew he reasonably had to, was making him think thoughts he knew he had no business thinking. In his wildest dreams, he’d be in your tent and making your eyes roll back in the way that drove him crazy. In his wildest dreams, he’d be coaxing sounds out of you that only he would ever hear. In his wildest dreams, your hands all over him would heal him and break him at the same time. He was desperately in need of some relief, and he loathed all decisions in his life that lead to you not being able to be the one to provide it for him. 

He made his way to the bonfire, and greeted all of the Na’vi that respectfully bowed their heads at his arrival. He saw his family at the centre of the crowd, where they normally sat, and joined them silently. They all gave him uneasy looks - all but one. Lo’ak was blatantly glaring at the older Sully, a look of disappointment and disgust marring his normally kind face that reminded Neteyam so much of their dad. 

“Did you tell her?” 

Kiri elbowed Lo’ak in the abdomen, but he didn’t flinch. He did not even bother to acknowledge Kiri, or the low hiss escaping their mum’s lips - his eyes were still boring into Neteyam, unwavering. 

“No.” Neteyam’s expression darkened and in a split second, he became the warrior his dad moulded him into. “And you will not, either, Lo’ak. Do you understand me?” Lo’ak had to look up to look at his brother who was now dangerously towering over him. 

“Oh, the mighty warrior giving out orders, what else is new?” 

“Lo’ak, that’s enough.” Neteyam heard Jake intervene, and he eventually had to physically put his body in between his two sons, who still refused to look away from each other.

“Fnawe’tu (coward).”

 

Neteyam watched his brother turn his back on his family and walk away from the feast, and although he wouldn’t admit it to himself, he knew deep down that Lo’ak was right.

 

You were almost robotically flipping through the directory of movies and tv shows on the laptop that you had with you in the village, not quite ready to go back to the lab and have to deal with the consequences of your newly acquired “condition”. You had all night to do experiments, and lie to yourself that you were fine until you eventually succumbed to a Xanax-induced blackout. You wanted to be in this body just a little while longer, because, in this body, it was easy to forget the realities of your actual life.

You saw a five-fingered hand emerge from the entrance to your tent, and you laughed incredulously at the clown you loved, who seemed to have a knack for improving your dour mood.

“I am here to bother you.” You got up and started making your way towards the entrance of your tent.

“Shouldn’t you be at dinner?” You say, laughing and pulling Lo’ak by the hand, so he stumbles unattractively into you. 

You wrap your arms around him and hug him gently. “Skxawng.” 

“I should, but I am here instead. We haven’t had movie night in so long.” He lay on your sleep mat and you hissed for him to move over. “You’re getting way too comfortable hissing at people.”

“Not people, Lo’ak, you!” You smiled saying that, knowing you were quoting Kiri, and he groaned exasperatedly. 

A few more weeks passed, and you felt the discrepancy between your bodies become more pronounced than it had ever been. It turns out, the incubation period of a Na’vi virus in a human is not long at all, and roughly around last week, you began displaying symptoms. You were taking every drug under the sun to try to soften them, but you had seen one too many good Na’vi people die due to this to know what was lurking underneath the comfortable cushion of drug-induced health. Despite all that, you felt on top of the world in your avatar. You were continuously improving, and, with a little bit of luck, will be completing your first kill soon - the first stepping stone to becoming Taronyu, hunter. If you do that successfully, you will be taking your Iknimaya with other Na’vi apprentices, and finally get your own Ikran. You were buzzing at the thought, and the image of you flying in the sky was enough to push any other worries out of your mind. 

After that weird day that ended with Lo’ak in your tent watching Friends together and teaching him the chords to a song you both loved, things went back to normal, sort of. You couldn’t shake the uneasy feeling that the Sullys were hiding something from you. They exchanged looks, and avoided certain subjects, and you were starting to be worried they guessed you were ill, and were tiptoeing around the subject so as to not upset you. That was a good theory, although it could not explain the heavy tension between Neteyam and Lo’ak that also started that night. 

You saw them bicker and fight your whole life: two opposing personalities, both of whom had misunderstandings about the other. Neteyam could never understand Lo’ak, understand that, despite being the chieftain’s son and the grandson of the Tsahik and former Olo’yektan, people still looked at him like he was not quite full Na’vi. His eyebrows and five fingers made his appearance uncanny enough to always attract whispers and looks, and despite Lo’ak’s apparent devil-may-care attitude, he cared. Neteyam could also not understand anyone who wished to live freely and discover themselves, make decisions and choices that would lead to a happy, fulfilled life, rather than a proud and accomplished one. Finally, Neteyam did not understand that skill and tenacity doesn’t come easy to everybody, and the weight of living in his shadow was bearing heavily on his baby brother’s back. 

On the other hand, Lo’ak never tried to understand the burden Neteyam had to carry, because, in his desire to not appear weak, he took it in strides and never complained. Lo’ak never fully understood the downfalls of what being “the perfect son” brings: no freedom, no childhood, no time, no fun, no choice. He only ever focused on the positives: praise from his family and clan, skill and composure, the title of future Leader of the Omatikaya. He will also never be able to understand the depths of Neteyam’s love for him, who, despite all their differences, would be willing to sacrifice everything, even his own life, to make sure his baby brother would never having to experience these burdens.

This tension felt like more. More than you’ve ever seen, not mended in time, they were always glowering at each other and only speaking to each other if prompted or forced by their increasingly frustrated family. You tried to talk to both of them individually and ask, but you were promptly sent on your way each time. You could tell Lo’ak was itching to spit it out, but every time he got close, he flashed you a look of hurt and fear, and moved on. 

Eventually, you stopped worrying about it. It will come out in time, and you had better things to worry about. Your training became brutal after that day tracking Sturmbeests. Neteyam would come to your tent before dawn, sometimes having to wait for you while you woke up in your Avatar body, and you were always gone past eclipse. You were tracking, joining hunting parties to learn, working on shooting arrows while on Pa’li or in nearly impossible positions (he made you shoot targets hanging upside down from the branches of trees, seriously) and working on guns and practicing with Jake and his soldiers. Jake made you his second-in-command during these sessions, and you enjoyed having the roles reversed and having to watch Neteyam squirm every time you touched his arm, or waist, or thighs, in order to adjust his shooting form. You also taught Lo’ak, sometimes late in the nights, where he would sneak into your tent and ask you questions about guns that he hoped would bring him in his father’s good graces for once in his life. You loved teaching them, and you felt powerful with all the eyes on you, trying to absorb every piece of information coming out of your mouth. 

“In your hands, you are holding a sub machine-gun.” You said and you made your way through the 10 soldiers in your midst. “It can fire up 600 rounds per minute. You have a button on the side of the weapon, as you can see right there”, you stopped and show everyone on your own weapon, “that allows you to choose between semi automatic and fully automatic. What’s the difference, Lo’ak?”

“A semi-automatic guns fires one shot when you pull the trigger, a fully automatic gun fires continuously until you release the trigger.” 

“Tsantu (good guy)!” you said with an intimate smile. Lo’ak was making amazing progress, and you were proud to be even a small reason why. 

Neteyam gave Lo’ak a hard look as he answered your question. He was angry with his brother because of his recent attitude, he thought. That’s the reason. Not at all because you were smiling at him with that dazzling smile that used to be reserved for him years ago, definitely not because he knew Lo’ak was sneaking in your tent at night and doing Eywa-knows-what, a fact which kept Neteyam up nights with images he would do everything in his power to be able to erase from his brain. Neteyam was exhausted. He hasn’t slept since this thing started, not until Lo’ak returned to his tent after his meetings with you, and he was able to look at him in the dim light of the night and gauge for himself if his brother was flushed, or panting, or extra happy for one reason or another. Despite never seeing anything that he could deem suspicious, the images of his baby brother taking for himself what was his, what should be his, haunted him and made him sick to his stomach. 

Coward. Lo’ak words rang in his ears incessantly throughout each day, never being able to fully block them out. 

Neteyam saw you move from Lo’ak and towards him, and tried to remember what they were talking about. Sub-machine guns, right. 

“Now, SMGs are best used in tighter quarters or close to mid-range. The spread will make it inefficient for long-range. If you find yourself on the back of your Ikran shooting at a plane or Valkyrie, make sure you close the gap between you or use your bow, instead.”

“An SMG will have a lot of recoil, making it harder to shoot accurately, but there are a few tips you can use to make to improve your aim and accuracy.”

“First. Always fire in short bursts, if you are firing on automatic mode. A few shots at a time will make sure the kick is not unmanageable. Two, account for the kick and adjust your aim to compensate. Think of shooting an arrow and how you always take the wind, its direction, speed and power in consideration before you actually release. It’s a similar principle. The recoil will make the gun kick upwards, so always aim slightly lower than what you want to hit. Three, don’t aim for the head. Leave that for a bow or an assault/sniper rifle with a scope. Aim for the abdomen and chest, since that is a wider target and more likely to hit. Everyone on the same page?”

Neteyam was forever in awe of you, but it was particularly impressive watching you now. You were confident and powerful and knowledgeable. Neteyam felt bad admitting it, but you were a much better teacher than their dad ever was. Toruk Makto had many incredible qualities, but his patience was definitely not amongst them, and his lessons tend to get a bit derailed by his inability to understand that Na’vi are not predisposed to guns or understanding Sky People technology. You were calm, and kind, and funny, and you made it easy for everyone to follow your instructions. In the span on a few weeks, all of the Na’vi and Avatar soldiers training for the upcoming war became better at pretty much every aspect that they were training in, and I think everyone felt just a bit more comfortable about the conflict that was soon to befall them, with you by their side. 

After the lesson was complete, you left alongside Lo’ak, sparing one last look in Neteyam’s direction. He was already watching you, and you saw a fleeting angry look that was quickly replaced with an expressionless mask. He was getting good at that, you thought. 

“Do you want to do anything? If I have to listen to Kiri talk about all the new types of flowers and plants and shit she keeps finding in the woods, I will lose my mind.”

“Be nice.” 

Kiri has been particularly hyperfixated on her newfound discoveries recently, and you tried your best to pay attention to every time she was describing them, in detail, but in reality you were always so exhausted by the time dinner came around that you were only assimilating about a tenth of all the words coming out of her mouth. You felt bad, and made a mental note to dedicate a couple of days to your friend that you saw less and less each week. 

“Your Iknimaya is getting closer and closer each day, how do you feel?”

“Honestly I haven’t thought about it that much, just taking it one day at a time.”

“I think you should start thinking about it, cause it’s going to happen. You’ve managed to blow everyone’s expectations out of the water. It barely been two months since you got your avatar body, not even my dad did this so fast. You were made for this, Angel.” 

You didn’t know what to say to that. You were grateful for Lo’ak’s faith in you, but with everything happening in your human body, it felt pointless looking towards the future. 

“You will be one of us, soon. I’ve had dreams about this my whole life, you know? It’s like I manifested your Avatar, Norm should be thanking me.” 

“Lo’ak…” 

You didn’t like the turn this conversation took, and felt an uncomfortable twinge settle in your chest at his words. 

“There are perks that come with being an Omatikaya, you know? You can make your bow out of the wood of the Home Tree… and you can choose a mate.” 

Fuck. 

Neteyam was making his way back to the village with the rest of the soldiers, casually chatting to one of the Avatars returning with them. He wasn’t paying attention to the way until his body knocked into one of the Na’vi walking in front of him. Utsou was staring intently at a scene unfolding in front of him, a scene that turned Neteyam’s blood to shards of glass, leaving cuts and bruises along his entire body. It was you, smiling, running your hand up and down Lo’ak’s arm whilst his hand was cupping your face and caressing your cheek. It was such an intimate interaction, it felt wrong to everyone there to even be able to witness it, and Neteyam felt himself becoming nauseous. With the image now seared into his memory and rage turning his breaths to pants, he turned around and left everything - everyone - behind. 

Tag list: @nuhteyam @eywas-heir @fanboyluvr @mashiromochi @puffb4ll @sassy-persona @simp4ff @mommyneytiri @hayhay9091

[sashi-ya]

Vampire!Law or werewolf!Law?

Hi, hi! I used to be obsessed with vampires back then. Never seen/read Twilight, though. But still. I didn't know if you wanted something NSFW, so I included some, not that explicit just in case. I hope you like it ♥. I loved the prompt so I'd probably be extending this story, perhaps with more OS someday!.

Vampire! Law x Reader.

Countryside town AU. No gender description. Everybody is 18+. No spoilers. TW: Blood. Slightly hurted animals. Kind of blood play. Soft NSFW. WC: 4.4K AO3: https://archiveofourown.org/works/31552169

Drawing done using a base from: deviantart.com/shadow-bases

It’s a cold night, puffs of steamy air coming out from your mouth as you quickly walk to your parents’ house. The moon shines in between foggy clouds that cover a dark sky. You regret the moment when you accepted going out, plus everything around seems a little threatening. You are used to the city you were living in until now, and somehow forgot the feeling of living in your hometown. But, your old friends wanted to see you, and you couldn’t just say no.

The old town you were born in seemed to have never evolved. Since the day you left your parents’ house and moved to campus in the big city, the town has preserved its own style, the same houses, the same old shops.

Reddish dried leaves crunches under your feet, and some crickets sing in the dark. You grab your phone just to check the hour. 00:00. You are a little bit tired; you’ve been driving the whole day to get there, but even though you were exhausted your old friends insisted on celebrating your comeback to the nest.

You are about to get to your house, when a sudden noise creeps the hell out of you, but you realize it’s just a cute white cat. “Hello kitty, you scared me!”, you say as the little cat comes purring. You crouch and pet it, after all it was too cute to not play with it.

“Bepo… Bepo… where the hell are you?”, you hear a man’s voice that comes closer. “Are you Bepo?”, you ask the little kitten and try to see what his collar says. “Bepo!!, there you are!”, a young man says with a gravelly voice.

“Oh, excuse me!”, you tell him as he comes closer to grab the white ball of fur. “Oh no, it's ok! I was about to go to sleep and I was looking for him. Did you scare her/him/they, Bepo?”, he says, approaching you, bending down and petting the kitten’s head.

The clouds move allowing the moonshine to bathe his face, revealing refined face features. A straight but snub nose, white pale skin, black spiky hair that ends up with sideburns, a goatee, and intense grey eyes with very dark circles were his main features. He was the most handsome man you’ve ever seen in your life so you stay caught on his face for a little while.

A cold breeze blows your hair and somehow a chill runs through your spine, as you hear the sound of wind chimes dancing along on the front porch of a wooden house. “Do you live in this town? I haven’t seen you before… I mean, I’m kind of new into town though…” he says to you with a smile while lifting the cat on his slender, pale and tattooed hands.

You stand up and say “Oh, uhm...I’ve recently graduated so I came back to my parents’ house to work with them, I used to live here, though”. “Oh, I see! Nice to meet you! My name is Law”, he says while extending his hand to you. You hesitate for a second, but then you say “Nice to meet you Law, I’m Y/n”. You shake hands, and realize how cold his skin is, almost as if he was somehow… dead?.

The encounter is disrupted by your dad, who got worried of you not arriving at home and opened the door to see if you were coming. “Y/n! there you are!. Oh, hello young man!, How are you?”, your father says from the front porch. “Goodnight Mr. Y/sn, everything alright! What about you and your wife?” Law says waving at your dad. “She’s inside a little worried for her pancake, that I see you’ve already met!”, your dad tells him while laughing. “Dad… I’m ok, go inside, I’ll be there in a minute”, you say to him, embarrassed.

“Nice to meet you, Law. Have a good night”, you say petting the little cat. “Have a goodnight too, Y/n-ya. I hope I could see you again”, Law says, giving you a side smirk. You nod and walk away.

You flop onto your bed, tired, exhausted. You close your eyes, total darkness until… his eyes… Those crystal grey eyes are the only thing you can see, and then they turn to yellow. And you wake up with a big gasp to the smell of blood.

“What the fuck was that?”, you say, agitated. An orangey sun ray filters from the windows of your teenage years room and hits directly your face. You block the sun with your arm realizing soon it was already morning and today you start working on your old family farm as a vet.

“Good morning little pancakes!!”, your dad greets you, as well as your little brother. Your mum is cooking those delicious breakfasts you used to have when you were younger and you sit on the table, pleased and filled with your family’s love.

The day passes with you meeting all the animals on the farm, you even have to take care of a wounded horse. “Don’t worry Violet, it’s just a little blood, but your leg will be fine”, you say to a black spotted mare that has been jumping on the field and somehow hurt his leg.

At noon, your childhood best friend sends a text telling you that tonight you two should go to “Shambles Bar'' - the one and only bar that has ever been there since you were born - to have fun since it’s Friday. You agree, not because you were a fan of partying but because you missed those old days before you left for uni.

“Leeeeet’s go party like the old timeeees, babeee” your best friend shouts at you while jumping on your bed. “hahaha stop it, you are going to break the bed!!”. You both laugh, get ready and head out.

You pass next to Law’s house and try to see if he is at home, but it seems as if no one is there. “Oi, do you know Law?” you say pointing with your thumb to his house. “Law?”, your best friend asks confused, and continues, “You mean the vampire guy who lives there?, yeah. Why?”. “Vampire guy? what do you mean?” you ask, half confused, half curious. “Haha, the guys call him like this. I mean, have you seen how pale he is? and those dark circles? He looks like he is dead. Plus no one has seen him during the daytime. Ever. But how do you know him?”, she tells you. “Oh, yesterday, his cat, Bepo, came to me. He was looking for the kitty and we happened to talk”, you tell her with a tone that tries to downplay the topic. “Oh, I see. To be honest I don’t even know what he does for a living so I don’t have any more info. Maybe Luffy or Zoro know him, you can ask them tonight”, she says. “Yeah, maybe”, you say and change the topic.

A few drinks after and you and your friends are already dancing to the sound of country music and the humble light system of the old bar, when the same image of those eyes of your dreams flashes before your eyes and a sudden smell of blood hits your nose. You stand still for a moment, scared. “Babe, what is it?”, asks Nami, one of your friends there. “Uh.. n- nothing”, you say confused and keep dancing.

A few seconds later, someone is touching your shoulder from behind. Your friends stand still for a moment with a subtle scared expression, but the touch of that hand felt warm for you, even as if some type of power was running through all of your body.

“Y/n-ya?”, a well-known voice calls you, and you turn around. There he was, Law, “the vampire guy” as your friends call him. “L-Law?”, you say slowly smiling when you see his pale face. “What a coincidence, huh?. I mean the town is not that big…”, he says, and you finish his sentence with a “yeah, and this is the only bar…”. You both laugh and for some seconds your eyes are fixed onto each other’s.

“Oi, Torao! you wanna drink with us?” says Zoro, inviting Law to our table. “Yeah, thanks, Zoro-ya”, he tells him. You all sit and ask waiter Beca to bring you another round of drinks. Law sits next to you.

Sanji, another friend of yours, asks you “You two already know each other?”. “Kind of”, you say laughing a little blushed. “Y/n-ya met Bepo, first!” Law tells your blond friend, laughing.

An old song you and your friends used to dance as “your song” starts playing on the jukebox and you run to the dance floor. You can’t help but gaze at where Law is just to see if he is watching you dance. And he does, he is looking at you, with a smile on his pretty face. Your cheeks turn to red, but you are way grown up to act like a teenager, and decide to invite him to dance. You are driven somehow to him, you don’t really know why, but you are.

“Law, do you wanna dance?”, you tell him, extending your arm as you were calling him to the dancefloor. “You too guys, come here!!” Nami shouts to your friends.

Law stands up and walks to you. Smiling, he incorporates to the circle and starts dancing. He doesn’t dance well, but you just don’t care, you either after all.

A slow song starts to play, romantic also. Robin, another of your friends, tells you that the song is called “I Hear a Symphony”, and that Law should dance with you. You look at her, widening your eyes trying to tell her to stop, but Law grabs one of your hands and tells you “May I have this dance?”. You giggle a little, I mean why is he talking like a prince?, but then you just let yourself go and accept his offer.

The pale guy puts his other hand over your waist and you two start dancing to that pretty melody. For a moment you feel as if you were dancing into a castle, like in another century.

Interlocking your eyes, you start to think that coming back to your hometown wasn’t that bad and somehow you feel as if everything around you disappears. For an instant you believe to see his eyes change colors, from that crystalline grey to an intense brilliant yellowish color, but this time you don’t get scared. You feel attracted more and more to him, as if something invisible was pulling you towards him.

The touch of his hands feels cold, really cold, just like the first time… “is it because it’s almost winter?”, you think. Law is looking at your lips, neck, and something on his expression shows as if he was willing to devour you. And frankly, you too… you lost yourself looking at his mouth, he has it barely open. He has prominent canines that show through the little space in between his lips, and you remember your friend's words “the vampire guy” ...

The slow music is over, and now pop blasts on the bar. The couples part and you all come back to your table. It’s already 2 am, and you all feel exhausted from working all day - except Law, who seems to be really energetic -.

“Well, my dear friends, I’m not a teenager anymore, I think I’m coming back home now”, you inform your friends, to which some of them reply protesting and the others supporting the motion.

“If you want to, I can walk you home. I mean, we are neighbors”, tells you Law. Something inside you says “oh no darling, you are going fast”, but your mouth simply slips a “Oh, thank you, that’d be fine”.

You grab your coat, and head to the door followed by your deadly crush. None of you two say a word the first few steps. Tonight, is even colder than yesterday, but your cheeks are so red, full of blood that you don’t seem to notice the freezing breeze. “He is going to think I’m desperate, like he is the hottest guy I’ve ever met, but still… calm down Y/N”, you say to yourself, while walking thinking about what to say to break the ice.

“The moon looks pretty tonight, doesn’t it?”, he says to you, timidly. You look up to the sky and contemplate a big full moon with reddish tints on its hue. “Oh, I think it is the eclipse they were talking about on tv last night… the “red moon” ...”, you say, but got interrupted by Law, “Yeah, a “blood moon””. The way he said that, felt almost as threatening, but you look at him, and there he is, smiling at you with a friendly face.

You remember you still don’t know shit about him, so you ask him, “Oi, Nami told me you moved into town a few months ago, what did it bring you here?”. He stops for a moment, looking at the ground, but then sketching out a fake smile he tells you, “I got bored from the city, so I moved into the countryside… but to be honest I came mainly because I heard that pumpkin pies here are delicious”. You look at him, because that sounded like a terrible lie but you chose to believe it and when you were about to ask him about what he does for a living, he interrupts you, “Well, it looks like we are already home”. “Oh, yeah, I haven’t noticed, ha-ha”, you say, a little bit annoyed because you wanted to ask him more questions, but mainly sad because the walk was over.

“So… goodnight”, you say to him while fidgeting back and forth with your feet. “Goodnight…” he says. You are both facing each other, and you nor Law are moving. He got his eyes fixed on your lips, and you wish he would just kiss you.

Slowly, little by little, Law approaches his face to yours, closer, closer, until... he stops himself violently. You get scared, but you don’t move a single muscle. “Why… why you… why do you smell like blood?”, he says gasping.

“W-What?”, you ask him confusedly backing up. “You, you smell like blood… have you… your arm…”, he says, snatching your forearm. Suddenly, you remember this morning, you cured Violet, and some blood got spilled on your forearm but you washed the area and took a bath right before going out. “How did you know?”, you ask him.

He remains silent, trying to calm down. “I’m… I’m sorry I have a really sensitive nose”, he says and continues, “Why don’t you go to sleep, we can talk tomorrow, it’s pretty late now. Goodnight”. He says and runs to his house.

You are left there, and for a moment you just can’t process what just happened. “What the fuck, Law?”, you think. A cold shiver on your back announces to you, you should go back home and go to bed. There was no point in staying there.

You snuggle on your bed, still trying to understand but the exhaustion your body felt wins and you fall asleep. Again, those eyes, the smell of blood, the cold touch, you can see, smell, feel it all… “Y/n! pancake!!! wake up!!!”, you hear your dad shouting at you. You open your eyes violently, “What??? What happened dad??”. “The cattle, some… something attacked them…”, he says horrified. “What?” ...

You get dressed and run to the cowshed. A poor steer lays there, he has been attacked by some kind of animal… with fangs, and the poor thing looks like he has lost some blood. Luckily he was still alive, so you helped him instantly.

“Pancakes, what are those wounds on the neck the animal has?”, your dad asks. “To be honest, dad, I don’t know. It looks like some kind of animal has bitten the steer, but didn’t eat it… it looks like… has drunk some of his blood…”, you say to your dad astonished even more than him. “But, what kind of animal could do such a thing?”, he inquiries. “The only ones that could do it are the Desmodontinae, or vampire bats… but they are not typical in this hemisphere…

The incident quickly spread and everyone in town was talking about it. Luckily the animal recovered in a few hours, as the wounds weren’t that bad.

You can’t stop thinking about Law, and quickly you forget about the animal incident. He has been on your mind all morning, “why did he run away?” ... That afternoon you decide to go see if Law is at home, you really need to ask him about last night… Plus, deep inside you are a little bit annoyed, you wanted him to kiss you…

You ring the bell of the wooden house, but there is no answer. Since the blinds were all shut down, you think that he must be at work.

Suddenly little Bepo appears meowing from the backyard. “Hi Bepo!! Is your daddy at home?”, you ask the little cat while ruffling his head fur. The cat rubs on your leg and then walks back to the backyard, so you decide to follow him.

If Law isn’t at home you could perhaps take a look at his patio. You are curious and he represented a mystery you wanted to decode, really bad.

At first you think you’ve seen someone looking at you from one of the windows of the house, but you thought it was just your imagination. You trespass private property.

The patio showed nothing but a bucket on one of the corners, next to an old mossy bench. You follow Bepo, and as you are approaching the metal pail that has something red inside, your phone rings. “God damn!!”, you jump scared. The phone screen shows an unknown number calling, “That’s weird”, you say and pick up. “Hello?”, “Hi!, Y/n-ya, it’s me, Law. I’m sorry to bother you but I wanted to apologize about last night”. Law… LAW! You realize you are still in his yard so you quickly leave the place and start walking home. “Don’t worry, I guess it must be a little intimidating to be with someone that smells like… blood”, you say. A silence takes the call but then Law simply laughs -again, a fake laugh- and tells you that he will call you later to compensate you for last night. You agree and say goodbye.

You close the door behind you leaning over it, gasping. Your heart races. What if he knows you’ve been stalking his house…? “I’m such a creep”, you say to yourself, and go to your room.

You spend the afternoon in your backyard with your mum, October is about to end so the fall season is at its peak. Maple leaves fall from a big tree next to your porch and garnish the patio with its coppery colors.

That night, your parents and brother were invited to a party in the next town, so they won’t come back until the next day. After a hot meal you go to sleep. You haven’t received any messages from Law yet and you wonder if you should text him or just let him do it first. You finally decide that he should be texting you first, so you snuggle in bed and close your eyes. For the third night in a row, you dream with those eyes, with the smell of blood. But, this time it's so intense that you awake instantly in the middle of the night. “Again?”, you say while brushing your hand over your eyes.

Suddenly you hear something knocking on your window… “Law?!”, you say, gasping. He mimics something similar to an “open please”. Your bed is next to the window so you are still sitting there in your pjs, so you stretch to open the window.

“What are you doing here?”, you ask him while helping him to enter. Law sits on the bed and tells you, whispering “I’m sorry, I was missing you, I really, really needed to see you… plus I told you I wanted to compensate for yesterday”.

A subtle light from the moon illuminates half of your faces, and you are speechless. “So, this is how he plans to compensate for running away last night? He is on my bed… he looks so sexy… damn”, you think. But Law starts acting innocently, and begins to ask you about the trophies on your shelves.

You tell him about how good you were at volleyball when you were in high school, and he tells you that he was too. “Where did you take that picture?”, he asks, pointing to an old photo you had pinned on the cork board. “This one?” you say, and when you grab it the side of the paper cuts your finger softly but enough to make some blood sprout. “Ouch!”, you say and you are about to take your finger to your mouth when Law grabs your wrist violently. “L-Law?!! What are you doing?”, you tell him, scared trying to unfasten from his hand. Law doesn’t speak, he starts to tremble, he is breathing fast, he is squeezing your wrist.

“Let me go, Law!” you say, but he doesn’t hear. He is somehow focused on perhaps staying still, trying to avoid something. He suddenly looks at you, his expression resembles a beast, beads of sweat run through his temples. His eyes change from grey to a bright yellow, his pupils dilate. His prominent canines are now true fangs.

Law is salivating, his veins are now visible on his forehead, you can see how his blood pumps faster. You can’t understand what the hell is going on, but for some reason you don’t scream. You concentrate on his eyes, you are able to see a remaining humanity in them, so you are far from scared.

He lets go of your hand, and kneels on the floor. Law is panting soundly; he is fighting against himself. “Calm down”, you say to him. He looks up to you, with tears in his eyes, still emitting guttural sounds. He is surprised to see how your face doesn’t show terror, nor contempt. You don’t know why, but you are even more attracted to him, dangerously attracted. You were willing to let him drink your blood if he wanted to…

With a smirk on your face, you say to him, “Blood is what you want, huh?”. He opens his mouth, and a pair of sharp fangs are shown. He shakes his head, he doesn’t want to hurt you, but he needs you. “I trust you; I know you won’t hurt me. You can drink from me”, you offer him. You know he is able to stop, and somehow everything makes sense. The poor animal this morning, he has just drunk a little blood but didn’t inflict mortal wounds to it. If he was that considerate to an animal, he will probably be with you too. -Or that is what you wanted to believe-.

He swallows, and still trembles and without any warning he pounces on you. Your back hits your bed and he's over you. He fixes his eyes on yours and asks you, "are you sure about this?". "Uhum", you nod. You are so desperate for him, that you probably consider yourself a beast more than him.

Law buries his fingers on your cheeks, and violently moves your head to the side, exposing your neck. You feel a few drops of saliva that falls into your skin from his mouth, and see how he approaches your neck.

He bites you, but even if it hurts, he is drinking your blood from your carotid so subtly, so carefully. A few seconds later, he stops. Some of your warm blood runs from the wound onto your bed.

"T-Thank you…" he says, planting a soft kiss over the little holes on your skin, caressing your hair. "You are welcome", you say, almost naturally as if being bitten by some kind of beast was something you always do.

But suddenly, you start to experience some kind of pressure on your chest, and breathing becomes difficult. Your eyes roll back, and you feel different. You look at him, trying to understand what is going on, and he simply brushes his tattooed hands over your face. "Don't worry, it's normal. You are not going to turn into… me. But, a little bit of me runs through your veins now…". He says, brushing his hand over his mouth trying to clean the mess your vital fluid has left on his lips.

You are not worried about becoming into a vampire or whatever the hell he is, but because you are experiencing a strong need to touch him, to kiss him, to fuck him. "Kiss me", you command him.

He looks at you, still settled over your body and your lips meet. His tongue invades your mouth, and you can taste the metallic rests of your blood on his mouth.

Without separating your mouths helps you take off your white -blood stained- shirt and then you do the same with him. His torso shows a big design inked on his skin, and a few wounds.

His fangs subtly scrape your skin, from your neck, to your chest, lower through your stomach. He spreads your legs with his strong arms, and softly but enough to leave some marks, bites the skin of your inner thighs. The feeling of those fangs softly ripping the first layers of your skin made yourself squirm in pleasure.

His yellow eyes fix on yours, and now he is devouring your sex. You throw your head back and surrender to his skilled tongue movements. What follows next is an extremely hard pounding session, that leaves you trembling, exhausted, sore… but satisfied.

Since then, every night you let him slowly drink you up, drop by drop, giving to him a bit of your life every time. Your eyes slowly changed colors, first a little patch of yellow, then half of your right iris…

A deadly, dangerous attraction, that won’t last forever… or maybe, if you decide to let everything aside and turn into a full vampire like him… who knows? maybe your obsessive love for him would end up changing your life… forever. ♥

[it-was-all-a-beautiful-dream]

Silva Lining (Saul Silva x Reader) Chapter 11

Warnings: Mentions of infant death

Word Count: 1.8k

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-19 years ago-

As per usual, Farah was bored. She was home in the kingdom of Solaria and once again her family were throwing another ball. Of course she had to be there, she was part of the royal family after all. Her sister was Queen Luna Star, she couldn’t make the family look bad by ditching the event, especially as it was held in her honour.

Big ball dresses and small talk wasn’t her thing. This was temporary however. Soon Farah would be going back to Alfea to take over as Headmistress and she’d finally start living by her own rules. Her mentor and friend Rosalind would be there to guid her and Saul, a friend she had met as a student, would be there as the Headmaster of the Specialists. She couldn’t think of better people to be surrounded with.

There was one upside to the party. People from all over the magic realms had been invited and there was one person in particular that caught Farah’s eye. She didn’t expect things to go the way they did but one thing led to another and she and the mysterious, dark haired stranger found a quiet room in the castle and made love until the rise of the morning sun.

The story goes that she awoke from a dream, a prophecy. The stranger was never seen again and later was found to be the king of the Blood Witches, an enemy to the fairies. Three weeks later and Farah found that she was pregnant. The prophecy was coming true.

“A child, born on a Soul moon, half Fairy, half Witch. Powers bestowed by the Great Dragon, will be the balance between good and evil. The key to the lives of all those who harness power, they are the one true heir to all the lands.”

The former King and Queen of Solaria were ashamed of Farah. Hiding the truth about the pregnancy from everyone. Even her sister Luna kept quiet of the affair, as she did not want anyone else to have claim to the throne, prophecy or no prophecy.

Nine months later and a girl was born. Farah was elated, however there was a dark sinister plot she didn’t know about. The doctors were ordered to do something unforgivable by Queen Luna, under the pressure from her parents. Farah was told that the baby was still born, a spell cast on the newborn to make it seem as if she were not breathing. Farah was inconsolable. Maybe the prophecy wasn’t supposed to come true. But it was.

Queen Luna had a soldier take the baby to the first world and left it on the steps of a hospital, where it would be taken care of as a changeling, nobody the wiser.

Farah grieved for her lost child but finally moved on, becoming Headmistress of Alfea and leaving royalty behind. She didn’t speak to her family, didn’t mention her sister or her lineage to anyone and changed her last name. It was kept a secret so she could live a somewhat normal life. Eventually the story was re-told to her three friends, Ben Harvey, Saul Silva and Rosalind who all swore never to tell a soul.

Farah thought that part of her life was behind her, a mere, sad memory of something that shouldn’t have been. But she was wrong. 18 years later, Saul found a changeling crying in the woods over the body of a burned one. She didn’t know it then but Farah’s life would never be the same again.

——————————————————————————————————

-Y/N’s POV-

Growing up, you’d connected with books like Harry Potter. Something about you could connect with the main character. Treated unfairly over and over by families that were meant to take care of you. No belongings, no friends, a tiny room and worst of all… no parents. You’d sat in your room at nights pouring over the words in your books, imagining the magical life you wished you could escape to.

You wanted a group of friends like Ron and Hermione. The adventures, the power, the fun. Even reading those books would never prepare you for a moment like this. You’d dreamt about the day you found your birth parents, gone over and over the meeting in your head a thousand times. You hadn’t pictured it like this.

You were still in Farah’s office. She was looking at you, tears rolling down her cheeks. You were crying too, what were you supposed to say? You felt like you couldn’t breath. You’d always thought you weren’t wanted, that your parents had just given you up like people give up smoking after new years, but that wasn’t the case at all. She’d thought you were dead. She didn’t know… She didn’t know. You wanted to be mad, be angry but all you could feel was upset and confused.

“I- I don’t know what to do, I don’t know what to say, I don’t know… who I am.” You quickly swept the tears from your face and stood, knocking back the chair in your hurry.

“Please don’t run away Y/N, I.. I wanted to tell you sooner but I needed to be sure. I didn’t want to give you false hope and I couldn’t go through losing you all over again.” You wanted to scream, you didn’t know whether to hug the woman in front of you or run for the hills. It was all too much.

“Stella knows doesn’t she, that’s part of the reason Queen Luna took her, she’s my cousin…” You were sobbing again, more like hyperventilating. Saul had bust the door down as soon as her heard your gasps of air. In seconds you were in his arms and he was trying to get you to breath again. Your ears were ringing and you couldn’t concentrate. You just needed to get out of there.

You did the only thing you knew how to do well. You ran, taking Sauls hand in yours, you opened a portal and poof. Both of you disappeared from Headmistress Dowling's office.

Now, the truth is you thought you’d become stronger after all the training and the hard times you been through. But all this drama and truth takes the cake. How could you not run away after that overload of information?

Mums your Headmistress.. check

Dads the king of the Blood Witches…. check

Your future husband is your mothers best friend… check

Your bestfriend is actually your cousin… check

Your Auntie, the Queen of Solaria pretended you were dead and made you a changeling.. check

And to top it all off you were the answer to an ancient prophecy and apparently you were supposed to be the answer to the balance between good and evil. Just another day in the life of Y/N.

Even when you landed through the portal you were still hyperventilating. You wanted the ground to open up and swallow you whole. Saul was on you again in a flash, trying to calm you down before your powers went haywire. Hey, at least you had an explanation for why they did that from time to time. You were more powerful than you’d ever thought possible.

“Angel, please try and breath, copy me, in and out, it’s okay, I’ve got you, i’m here, look at me. Y/N LOOK AT ME!” Sauls pleading and authoritative voice seemed to snap you from your panic. Your eyes were full of unshed tears and you felt physically drained. His arms came around you and his chin rested on the top of your head. God, you wanted to be mad at him for not telling you but you couldn’t. It wasn’t his place to tell you and you knew that. Plus, being in his arms was the only place you felt safe, you weren’t about to ruin that. You needed Saul more than he would ever know.

You calmed, peeking out of Sauls arms to take in your surroundings. You don’t know why your mind had taken you here, this was the last place you or Saul would probably want to see. Asterdale. The wind swept through your hair and spray from the ocean below dusted your tear streaked face.

“Saul, please, tell me what really happened here. I need to know the truth.” He nodded. You pictured the barrier around the building coming down and a flash of electricity bolted from your hands, the ruins now visible.

“It all started with Rosalind…..” He dove into telling you the truth about what really happened. How Rosalind had lead Farah, Ben and Saul to believe there was no one in the village, burned ones were the only ones left. Apparently Sky’s father had been part of her plan too, he knew the truth and Saul and him had a fight.. ending in Saul killing his best friend Andreas. It was all Rosalind’s fault.. Rosalind, the person Bloom was trying to free from Farah’s spells.

——————————————————————————————————

It had been a few hours of just talking with Saul, laying in his arms, when you both decided to return to the school. By now, people would probably start to wonder where you both were and you didn’t need to make things any more suspicious. It was also still too dangerous to be out in the open like this.

Something about the school looked different to you now. Older, more worn down. Full of lies and secrets hidden in the walls. It was as if she sensed your presence. Farah was waiting on the steps outside, pacing nervously, your friends waiting along side her. You don’t know what compelled you to do it, one minute you were walking next to Saul, the next you were in front of Miss Dowling… your mum, and then you were in her arms. At first she stilled, shocked perhaps, then she hugged you with everything she had in her, tears flowing freely, mixing with your own. It felt right. It wasn’t her fault you were a changeling. If anything, it was just as unfair on her. The baby she was excited to have, was secretly taken away from her and for years she was lead to believe a cruel lie. You were pretty sure you even heard Saul sniffle from behind you.

Your friends had been filled in by Farah, she knew you would need support after the ordeals you’d gone through. There were no words for the shock everyone had experienced today. Yet, you still felt like something bigger was on the horizon.

The burned ones were still a major threat, Bloom was still having dreams about Rosalind, and Beatrix was locked up in some magic stealing cell. Most of all, you had a mother and a father and the King of the Blood Witches, well, he was still out there.

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okay so, this is a short chapter compared to what I usually post, it's more of like a filler chapter but I hope you still like it now you've learnt the story of the Reader and Farah's relationship! Please if you have any thoughts or ideas let them be heard in the comments!!! Please reblog/like/follow <3

CHAPTER 12 ------ CLICK HERE

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[marksloan]

woah, can you tell us what happened with your dad and aunt? and how buzzfeed wanted to help? i am so curious

oh lord this is a story and a half. i can't believe i've actually never spoken about this before??

if you want a story about a messy family, buzzfeed unsolved being like aight yeah this is sus we want to help out, and my dwindling sanity, this is all going to be under the cut~

also side note, i have receipts of most things because we were terrified that my dad was going to gaslight about everything which, eventually, he did. we also knew that a lot of things were going to be deleted off of the internet for reasons we didn't know, so this is why i have a lot of shit just lying around omg. i literally sat here and watched every piece of evidence get deleted as i refreshed the page so this is the best i can do

TD;LR: we found out that my dad had a secret twin sister and he did everything he could to hide her from us alongside her mysterious death.

a few years ago, i started doing ancestry so i could find my family history and one thing lead to another and i found out that my aunt on my dad's side had also made a tree. while going through the birth records for births in the same area/time frame as my dad's birth, i found that there was a second kid listed under a mother with the same last name AND maiden name (because they list both the father and the mother's last name) alongside the same area code. this was super weird because neither name is super common and it was just a little too weird.

(name blocked out because ohhh boy this is supposed to be a sensitive family issue LMAO)

(here's some receipts of me messaging a friend on facebook because this whole situation is insane and i feel like i need to back myself up bc not even i'd believe myself omg)

flash forward to me going onto my aunt's family tree and finding out that she'd listed this random woman as my dad's twin sister. beyond sketch. we have never heard of this random woman and, when i mentioned it to my mother a few weeks later, she had no idea about it either, although, after a few days, she did recall a conversation she'd had with my uncle (my dad's older sister's husband) when my parents had just started dating. she said that he'd made a comment about my dad and just jokingly said 'oh, it's like a twin thing' and, very confused, my mum had played along. she hadn't thought much about it until i was sat there showing her screenshots of some random woman on my aunt's family tree. basically, she was fairly sure that it was right just from the genuine vibe of that side of the family, they're ex-military and very secretive and we've always got the feeling that something was a bit off.

she told me not to mention it to my dad and like a dumbass i did. i told him about the random woman on this family tree and he was PISSED. he told me that it was wrong and that 'it was easy to get lost and find the wrong people', despite being an account that was actively linked to his older sister's facebook account, and i decided to drop it. my dad can make your life hell when he wants to and i just left it alone.

but then my sister got involved oml. she picked right where i left off during quarantine in the summer and immediately dove right into this twin sister mystery. she discovered that this woman had died in the 90's, right before my parents got together, right in the vicinity that my dad's family moved (which, if you remember, they're military so they basically moved around the uk a lot. for someone who was originally was born in the north of the uk to randomly turn up and die in the most specific, random southern town was more than a coincidence.) however, my sisters ability to investigate extended a lot more than I did; she actually messaged my aunt over facebook and asked about this mystery woman that.

it didn't go well.

at the same time, she started tweeting about it on twitter and jokingly started saying 'oh maybe buzzfeed unsolved would be interested?'. this all happened around a week after aria uploaded his first(?) video investigating his father's best friend disappearing. i'm not sure what drove my sister to message aria but she eventually sent him a message on instagram and he (somehow???) responded and was very interested in helping us with our little family mystery.

this is what he sent my sister in response to her DMS.:

basically, this woman was impossible to trace. she only had a birth certificate and a death certificate, which in itself is very weird because in the uk you can at least follow people around the country with the regular census.

when my sister messaged my aunt we noticed that my dad was getting a lot of text messages constantly while he was out in the garden. we were deadass sat there listening to his phone just ping over and over. so my sister (like a stan twitter psychopath) decided to reset her twitter password, of which was linked to my dads phone and ended up actually going through his text messages.

i can't find the sc (my sister got a new insta account and it's what she sent me all the scs through) but if i remember rightly she sent him a message that was like: they're asking about [insert nickname for the twin sister] what should i say? and my dad I SHIT YOU NOT answered with i'll handle it. like I'm sorry sir is this an action movie? ur a taxi driver not james bond sit the fuck down.

(EDIT I FOUND IT IN A FACEBOOK CONVO)

f(he also, notably, lied to us and said that his sister had all of the family photos ~~~ imagine the way my ass fell out of my stomach when i read these text messages.)

we mentioned aria to my mum and explained how he might be able to help but she was very against it. instead, she took me and my sister out for dinner when quarantine eased (cmon eat to help out) and sent my dad a thick ass paragraph. i can't remember what it said for sure but there was something like 'do you want to be remembered as a liar by your kids because they're either going to find out the truth now or after your dead? its your choice xoxo'. god I'm so excited for the therapy I'm going to need in twenty years about my trust issues.

basically he admitted that it was true, but only over text message. he didn't give us any information, nor will he admit it in person or even speak about it. we know nothing other than the fact that this woman caused a lot of family drama and probably trauma and that they refuse to talk about her due to something she did to my grandmother (who as you can tell from the ancestry sc above, is long deceased.) basically this whole thing was a shit show and eventually aria agreed that there were too many messy factors, mental health and privacy etc.

there's a lot more involved surprisingly that i had to condense into this post but hopefully that explains it a bit. like i said, i'm beyond excited for this to cripple my ability to trust my family and men in particular and i'm just so excited for the therapy I'm going to need!

[juniors0possum]

🌏The Other World- How it started🌎

According to this post (nobody cared about), the last half of my story plays not in the human world anymore. There’s another world, one out of million, far away in an universe nobody knows.

5 continents, 3 moons and 1 huge combined story

The other world is different— magical— dangerous— and unique, but being there is a whole adventure.

>> First, here’s a little lore how it all started. We know how Juli’s life went in the human world, but there’s always a second side of the coin—

✨AJ’s Origin✨

There once was a man names Donovan Vayarus. He wasn’t a good person. He was criminal, selfish and cold hearted. But he had a wife he truly loved. One day, a young boy was born. They named him Anthony— Anthony Jacob Vayarus. This little newborn created a big mess without knowing it.

Anthony’s mother was a pure woman. Kind and friendly. She loved her little son, but she couldn’t love his dad anymore. Donovan never stopped being a brutal killer. He killed uncountable innocent people and came home full of blood on his hands. His wife couldn’t handle it anymore. She wanted to leave him, but he didn’t let her. One day she disappeared. Nobody knows how. Nobody knows why. All they know is that she left her son behind. Donovan was angry, he blamed Anthony for everything even the little boy didn’t know what was happening. One thing he knew—his mum was gone. The father knew that his wife wasn’t dead, but he told his son that she was just to hurt him. Donovan knew where he needs to go now. He grabbed the son he couldn’t love and went with him to the human world— a place completely different than their home.

Years passed and Anthony grew up with a father who hates him. Donovan wasn’t a good dad. He never picked his son up from anywhere, he didn’t care about his birthday and often forgot Anthonys name. One day, when the boy was just old enough to walk and speak alone, he regularly run away just to escape this hell. And one day, he met a girl— her name was Juli. They both had their problems with each other first, but for some reason they also understood each other. The fresh orphan who couldn’t understand that someone wanted to adopt and actually love her, and the little boy who wished he would be an orphan. Both had a complicated personality, broken with big trust issues, but they also had a good heart.

The two kids met regularly till they grew up to teenager. There was a big silence for some years between them. Especially Anthony got such a dark soul that he preferred loneliness before friendship. Even they sometimes talked to each other, he would act in school like he never saw Juli before.

One day another boy changed that. Mike, the most pure hearted boy anyone can ever meet. He was Tony,or more like AJs best friend ever. AJ hated when someone called him Anthony or Tony now, it only reminded him about his dad. Mike and AJ were the opposite of each other, but that was what they glued together. The lovely gay angel heard about Juli and they were literally made to be friends so he tried everything to make it. After some time, all three were so close to each other that you can call them a Golden Trio. Juli Anderson, Mike Adams and Anthony Vayarus—will you mess with one you will mess with all.

Highschool was a hard time, but had its good sides. Especially when the typical teenager feelings started to spread. Everyone always said, that Tony and Juli are siblings just because they look surprisingly similar with a pretty same personality. They hated to hear that, but mostly because they hadn’t only “siblings feelings” for each other. Juli had her half boyfriend Sasha, but hanging around every day for their half life, with someone who understands you the best, will make your heart confused. They did love each other. They would’ve never say it loud, but what Juli and AJ had were a real puppy love. Their first kiss. Their first time. AJ would’ve do everything for her. There was such one person who didn’t let them. Donovan was the only one in the world who knew it. The only one who knew the truth. He hated Juli. He hated her for only one reason. Just one— Donovan knew who she was, or to be more specific, he knew who her mum was.

Even though that both children came from two different worlds, came from two different families and only met because of a big coincidence…everyone who joked about it was actually right. It had a reason Juli and AJ were so similar. It had a reason they looked so similar. The black hair and bright blue eyes. And when they found out, their whole world crushed.

—But this was just the beginning of a huge story—

[dammitadolfnomorecake]

Once Bitten, Twice Stupid

Pairing: Klance: Keith Kogane/Lance Mcclain

Tags: Vamp Lance | Klutz Lance | Idiot Keith | Shiro & Keith are adopted brothers | Enemies to idiots( ...I mean) | Enemies to idiots | Mentioned mpreg | Lance isn’t a full vampire( but keith is a full idiot) | Idiot Lance | Paranormal Investigators Pidge & Hunk | Hunk is a scaredy cat | Lance has a black cat name Blue | Fluffy bits | Lance is 44 | Hunk is 24 | Pidge is 22 | Keith is 26 | Shiro is 30 | Bottom Lance! | Vampire dynamics are a bit whack | Smutty bits | Mentions of men making babies | Lance might be a vamp but it turns out he’s useless | Lance’s mum’s name is Miriam | Papi Jorge | Keith is a special flower | Comin’ at ya in bite sized pieces | Fluffy dumbarsery with some tears | Slow build because they’re stupid heads | BOM are hunters | Shiro & Lance are lowkey bros | Keith’s got issues( but he’s got trauma to work through...that’s why he’s repetitive) | Updating tags to include mgreg themes | Not beta-ed | If pining was an Olympic sport these fools would share gold | Langst | Klangst | Hurt and comfort | 

Summary: Lance has lived a pretty simple life since being turned into a vampire. He’s got his house, his cat, and his two besties that have no idea he’s a vampire thanks to his awesome acting skills... He thought he was happy, that things were fine, that he wasn’t drawing too much attention to himself... and then he met Keith.Big, dumb, hot, emo, stupid Keith. Keith that went and flipped his life upside down, because, seriously, Keith really was a special kind of stupid.Vampire Lance x Vampire Hunter Keith

READ ON AO3

People sucked. People truly, madly, unequivocally, completely and totally sucked. That’s why Lance had brought his farmhouse outside a the tiny speck of a town barely found on most maps. He hadn’t lead a particularly long life, at least not when compared to others suffering from the same condition as he had, yet in his short time, he’d come to hate people. Don’t get him wrong, he didn’t hate everyone. He had two best friends that meant the world to him, Pidge and Hunk. Both paranormal investigators, and both blind to his unusualness. No. What Lance held issue with was the continued hunting of his kind by the Vatican. His “ancestors” may have bathed in blood, and sacrificed virgins, all that kind of hooky-huha that one reads in scary stories, but before he’d been made a vampire, he liked to think he’d been a happy enough well liked kid, and he liked to think that even these days he still carried an air of that charm whenever he was forced from his home.

Garrison was a tiny town 50kms away from Platt City, founded during the Third World War, the city held plenty of ghostly secrets which had drawn both Hunk and Pidge to the area. Boasting a single Main Street, the highlights of the town were limited to tourist traps and three pubs on the Main Street. It was while studying at Platt University that he’d met both his best friends, twenty years his juniors, yet thanks to his unwanted immortality his body had stopped maturing roughly around the age of 18, making it easy to join the crowded university with a few falsified papers. His intention was to refresh his legal skills in order to keep up with the time’s. With the help of his Mami, he’d moved somewhere small and private, to a dead beat town that accepted weirdness as an everyday occurrence thanks to the tourists that came to see the ghosts of soldiers passed. When he’d been a kid, he’d always dreamed of being an astronaut, yet had chosen law to help those less fortunate in some kind of redemption for his condition. Being immortal meant keeping up with the times, though his house retained much of its old “Victorian” charm. Plus, with Platt being so close, it made for an easy drive up there every three weeks to pick up new blood bags. He was in no way a stereotypical vampire other than his need for blood. He wore glasses, because his eyesight was so good his mind couldn’t process everything he was seeing. This came with the unfortunate side effect of being clumsy as hell. He’d come from a Catholic family, meaning he believed in the presence of God. He’d also never drunk from a human, and never taken a human as pet or a lover like some did. When he wasn’t tagging along with Pidge and Hunk to ensure they didn’t accidentally summon something nasty, most of his time was devoted to providing low cost family legal advise.

Perhaps because he hadn’t been born a vampire, he’d retained many of his human ways. Sunlight didn’t turn him to ashes. Garlic gave him pretty bad stomach cramps and indigestion, which could be fobbed off with the excuse of an allergy. Silver gave him hives, again, something that could be passed off as an allergic reaction. He refused to harm animals for blood. He refused to bite another human, despite the fact a bite wouldn’t turn one anyway. They needed to be drinking his blood for that to happen, and after how he’d been turned, there was no way he’d ever do that to a mortal. He showed up in photographs, though his eyes always came out red instead of their usual bright blue. Mirrors weren’t exactly his friend, but not because he couldn’t see himself, instead because he hated seeing himself. They didn’t magically show his “vampire face”, instead they reminded him he’d never grow old. At the ripe age of 44 he looked 18. Even when he turned 100, he’d still look 18. It was thoroughly depressing. Unlike some vampires he didn’t have a coven, or a pack. His house only held him and his cat Blue, who he’d found as a tiny kitten under the steps leading up to the porch. She’s was black, fluffy, and an absolute princess in his eyes. Other than the general upkeep of his house, blood costs and the very occasional splurge on new clothes, most of the money he made went to spoiling his little princess. He wasn’t sure if Blue was part vampire, her teeth had always been sharp, as kitten he’d dug her out by the scruff of the neck, her tiny little teeth were far too cute as they buried themselves into his hand. She’d never acted like she was, but she also preferred to stay inside and had a personality that rivalled some of the most twisted “Queen” vamps he’d met. Then again, everyone knew cats were temperamental arseholes, so maybe Blue was simply being the snobby cow she was born to be.

All in all, Lance had nothing to complain about in his life. He was happy, content, safe in the knowledge no one about to ruin that anytime soon.

*

Pulling into the parking lot of their usual dive, Sal’s burgers wasn’t the most popular place in town, making it the perfect place to hang out. Located 10kms out of town on the road to Platt City, seemingly an inconvenience the locals, most of Sal’s customers came from tourists needing to stop because their kids needed the toilet. A few of the older locals had dedicated seats at the service bar, and maybe one or twice a week people spiced it up from their usual coffee shops on Main Street, but all in all, the lack of customers is what Lance loved about it. The whole place looked as if the 50’s had left it behind, from its pastel pink exterior to the cheesy green and silver breakfast stools at the c go heck board service bar. From his parking space he could already see Pidge and Hunk waiting for him in their usual booth. Hunk’s head thrown back as he laughed at something, probably at Pidge’s expense.

Cutting the engine, Lance grabbed up his wallet, phone, and gloves. He wasn’t exactly the warmest of people to begin with, but this freezing weather was likely to turn him into an undead popsicle. Already dressed in his favourite khaki jacket, Lance did a quick double check pat down before climbing out his battered blue four wheel drive. She was old, had one too many rust spots and didn’t like starting on days like today, but he’d had her since he’d graduated college the first time around. His Mami was always nagging at him to get rid of her, to use some of his money to buy something better, something that didn’t have roll down windows and a dodgy CD player. His first car was his first real taste of freedom after being turned. They’d been through a lot together, leaving him unable to say goodbye to her. That’d be like cutting him own arm off.

Sal gave him a wave as Lance walked in, the man was a teddy bear under his perpetual 5 o’clock shadow and greasy apron. His policy seemed to be that if someone couldn’t respect him like this, they weren’t worth his respect in return

“Hey’a there, Lance. Pull up a seat and I’ll bring your usual over”

“Thanks, Sal. You’re the best!”

Sal grumbled, Lance pretending he didn’t hear every low word about him. Bringing up that Sal secretly liked him well enough would only leave the old man flustered. For the sake of their “friendship”, he played along with Sal’s mumbling translating into how much of a pain he was. With a bounce in his step, Lance headed over to Pidge and Hunk, throwing himself into the booth as he wrapped his arms around Hunk

“Lance!”

“It’s soooo cold! Warm me up!”

Hunk hugged him back

“I’ve got you, bro! You’re freezing...”

“And you’re late. You were supposed to be here half an hour ago”

Lance sighed dramatically as he rolled his eyes at his favourite tech gremlin

“You know how she gets in cold weather”

“Who? There better not be anything and wrong with my Princess”

“Pidge, you should know by now that when Lance talks like that, he’s talking about his car... right?”

Lance grinned

“Of course I’m talking about my girl. And my Princess is perfectly happy. Blue was curled up under my blankets when I left”

Pidge pouted at him

“You could have brought her with you. I miss my Blue cuddles”

“You could try coming by the house. She was in a mood when I left”

Lance had a backpack carrier for her, but Blue would have frozen her perfect little toe beans out in the weather today. He’d left the heated blanket on a timer for her, unable to keep from spoiling his princess. Pidge’s hand left her laptop keyboard to grab her mug of coffee

“But your house is soooo far away. Anyway, we’re here to talk about work. I was on this forum last night, and someone swore they met a werewolf. Can you imagine? Hunk told me to stop scaring him”

Hunk... Hunk was the biggest ray of sunshine Lance had ever met. The poor man got every single form of motion sickness know, but that never once stopped him. He was terrified of ghost stories, not the best constitution to have when one is a ghost hunter... No, paranormal investigator. He’d been told there was a difference, but honestly it all sounded the same. People loved to think of the unknown, that world existing just out of their everyday mundane lives. Having been in that world for as long as he had been, Lance would happily pay for a boring mundane life

“I wasn’t scared... I’m... cautious”

Pidge clucked at Hunk, Hunk flipping her off. Laughing at him, Pidge wasn’t easily swayed

“You’re a chicken. What about you, Lance? Do you believe in werewolves?”

Werewolves were dicks. He’d bumped into a few over the years, and they’d done nothing to persuade him that they weren’t. The only thing they had going for them was their commitment to their mates and family, other than that, they were testosterone filled morons with claws.

“I don’t know... I feel like they’d all be too stupid to hide their existence”

“Wolves are incredibly smart... Fine, let’s put that one the back burner. Now, about work, there’s a group of tourists that want to come through the old hospital. The visitors centre in town gave me a call about it. Apparently they pay reeeeeeally well”

They’d have to. The old hospital was “cursed”. It’d been converted into a professional centre, but three years after the renovations they closed the building down thanks to the high number of injuries. If there were ghosts there, it was doubtful they’d care to bother with the employees. They all had their own issues. Lance held the opinion it was more a spate of psychosomatic symptoms resulting from the first accident. The building had been handed back over to the town, where it’d sat empty until it reopened as a military museum. With a bored sigh, Lance resigned himself to the fact that Pidge had already gone ahead and decided this was happening. Patting Hunk on the arm, the big man let him go

“When is this all supposed to be happening?”

Pidge’s eyes twinkled with mischief. Lance loved that about her. The top of her head barely came to his chin, but her pint sized stature didn’t stop her. She was always up for a laugh, and frightfully adapt with all things technology based. One of their first conversations came about because Lance had dropped his phone down the stairwell, smashing the screen as it bounced. Seeing her notice pinned up at the campuses cafe, he’d reached out to her with no idea they’d still be besties so many years later. From memory she had an older brother who was as much of a nerd as she was, while her mother and her father both worked in some private sector. He’d met them once over a family dinner Pidge dragged him to, seen them half a dozen times on their front steps as Pidge fled from their parental yelling, and finally been stuck in a very awkward conversation with Pidge’s father, Sam, when he’d found Bae-Bae, the missing family dog who Pidge had brought along on one of their ghost hunts

“Tonight. We’ve got permission to start once the museum shuts for the day. The tour starts at 8, so we’ll go in, set up, have something to eat, then scare the shit out of them at 8”

“You didn’t tell me it’s tonight!”

Poor Hunk. His poor heart had no time to come to terms with this. His worrying only made Pidge smile wider

“Relax, it’ll be fiiiine. Lance is coming with us. He’ll protect you from anything spooky”

“Why do I have to protect you? What are you going to do? Sue the ghosts for giving you the heebie-jeebies? Sorry, that’s not my specialty”

Pidge slid her glasses down to the tip of her nose as she puffed her chest out

“Ha, he, ho, I’m Lance and I have a fancy law degree! Those ghosts better think twice before looking at me”

Lance laughed way too hard, tears leaking out the corners of his eyes, his black frame glasses nearly falling off. Pidge pushing her glasses back into place as Sal brought over Lance’s pancakes and coffee. The man simply placing them down before backing away without a word

“Oh my god, Pidge. That was awful”

“It wasn’t that awful. So, Hunk, you’re in snacks for the night. Lance is in charge of driving, and I’m in charge of the tech. What are we forgetting?”

“That we value our lives and don’t really want to do this?”

Pidge sank lower in her seat, a soft thud coming as Hunk gasped in pain

“What was that for?!”

“Being a chicken”

“I’m not a chicken”

“Are too...”

Picking up his fork, Lance calmly cut in on their fight

“Children, don’t make me seperate the pair of you. Hunk, you’re big, brave, and very manly. Pidge, you’re so fucking short you couldn’t even covertly kick him under the table. If we’re going out, I need to stop by home on the way. Blue needs her wet food for the night, and no, she’s not coming tonight. It’s going to storm as it is”

Crossing her arms, Pidge slumped back in her seat

“You just want to keep my Princess all to yourself. Hunk can leave his car here and we’ll take yours”

“I thought my house was too far away to visit?”

“It’s not when you’re the one driving. Hurry up and finish your pancakes, I wanna go already”

Lance looked down at the forkful he’d been about to load in his mouth, purposely cutting the stack in half to annoy Pidge. Scoffing down Sal’s pancakes was an insult to the man who’d made cigarette ash in pancakes edible. The lack of hygiene may have been another reason why the locals stayed away, but when you’re immortal, standards kind of went out the window

“Laaaaance. Nooo. What are you doing?”

“Enjoying my breakfast. Order another coffee... actually, order some warm milk, I can see you practically vibrating from the amount of caffeine in our bloodstream”

“I’ll have you know that the level of blood in my caffeine stream is just fine. Plus, you’re like the only person in the world who enjoys Sal’s pancakes!”

“Oi! I heard that, Katie Holt!”

Pidge ducked down further in her seat at Sal’s voice. A couple of regulars laughing at her embarrassment, as Pidge blushed

“Now look what you’ve done”

“Not my problem, Pidgeroonie”

“Watch your back, I’m going to get you tonight, then steal away Blue”

Lance shrugged, unfazed by her threat. Tonight would be another lame arse tour under the belt, the most exciting thing they could expect was some jump scare.

[tcthetouch]

@mapleviewstarters​

𝚒𝚗 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚢𝚎𝚊𝚛 𝚘𝚏 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚜𝚌𝚊𝚟𝚎𝚗𝚐𝚎𝚛, 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚜𝚎𝚊𝚜𝚘𝚗 𝚘𝚏 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚋𝚒𝚝𝚌𝚑, 𝚜𝚊𝚜𝚑𝚊𝚢 𝚘𝚗 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚋𝚘𝚊𝚛𝚍𝚠𝚊𝚕𝚔 – 𝚜𝚌𝚞𝚛𝚛𝚢 𝚝𝚘 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚍𝚒𝚝𝚌𝚑 ... 𝚌𝚊𝚕𝚕 𝚝𝚑𝚎𝚖 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚍𝚒𝚊𝚖𝚘𝚗𝚍 𝚍𝚘𝚐𝚜 .

『 nicole kidman. forty-eight. cis woman. she/her. 』 oh heavens, is that CORA WHITWORTH from FAIR LANE i see roaming around mapleview? minnie may’s always calling them -DECEITFUL & -MATERIALISTIC. i happen to think they’re not that bad! they’re a pretty cool FORMER MADAM, CURRENT... “ACCOUNTANT” and every time i’ve seen them, they’ve always been +NURTURING & +RESOURCEFUL. i hope i see them around again! 『 may. 21.est. she/her. 』

did her parents name her after cora taylor ? no, kae and i just decided they’re dumb enough to name all their kids ‘c’ names. did i, trying to come up with ‘c’ names, name her after cora taylor ? yes.

background

triggers: prostitution (anything triggering that often goes with it is either very very skimmed over or not mentioned at all), pimping, possessiveness (is that the right word to use)/implied abuse?, drugs/briefly mentioned accidental fatal overdose (but if it makes it better the dude sucked)

honestly ? the triggers may imply there were worse things that happened in cora’s life, but... no. the worst thing that happened in her life was being born to the whitworths. not because they were like... jerks. but because they named everyone ‘c’ names. THAT’S THE REAL TRAGEDY IN THIS STORY.

Also. The first half of this intro is :\ a downer :\ but the second half is * thumbs up emoji * * money emoji * like the tone change is AMAZING.

Anyway, on the topic of the Whitworths, they weren’t bad parents! But they also weren’t stupendous parents! They were just largely… not around. So where Clara filled the love she wished to get with… flowers, Cora was like “I will try to fill mine with validation from external forces and… I don’t know, maybe adventure? Probably not.

Also scorpio sun, taurus moon bc astrology?? Ugh we luv it.

So she was decent. But she was bored. She wanted to do something interesting, not just mope around in their small town with the very few subcultures they had.

When she was 18, she decided that the small town life was simply Not For Her. much like my boy stephen crane, she wanted to actually study humanity. She packed up, of all places she could’ve “studied humanity,” she chose Washington, D.C.

But… you see… when you don’t have funds, a consistent source of income, or… really anymore than $20… you’re gonna study humanity SO WELL. Like, she was so set up to really study and experience humanity!

Let it be known… her parents obviously weren’t awful enough to be like “yes, go stay with questionable figures! you reap what you sow!” - no, they just… forgot!

A few people who she did not know offered a couch for the night. It was through various experiences among these folks, along with some general strange advice, that Cora realized she could enter a silently booming industry: sex work. The people she stayed with were usually very familiar with where the nearest red light districts were, some familiar with how to best tell undercover cops from regular johns. So she took this into serious consideration. She was still young – it seemed like a viable option, right? Easy money! 

Turns out… it wasn’t! There are some strange people out there, aren’t there?

However, it did temporarily provide enough funds for Cora to rent a dingy little apartment. Until this one night when a man brought her back – but instead of proposing sex, as was obviously expected, he proposed a different idea: she join his ‘club.’ There’d be more protection, the pay would be even more lucrative, she’d have somewhere better to live within a matter of months… so, god, dear god, it didn’t take much thought for her to take him up on the offer.

Of course, he was a pimp. So… you know, things weren’t actually much better, but the clientele were richer! He didn’t lie about that part! 

After around a year of captivity being pimped, this man took further interest in her as she became one of the more popular choices amongst his girls. He simply couldn’t let the star only be had by rich clientele! Yes, he slept with plenty of his girls, but she became favored as he began treating her as more of a girlfriend (with a creepy age different) who… you know, he still pimped out!

Being ‘closer’ to him was both advantageous and detrimental. Advantageous in that she witnessed more of the business side and various clients were rejected, detrimental in that… having to spend so much time with him, he introduced her to a world that was even worse. In spite of where she’d been for so many years by that point, she never really thought of drugs or gambling or anything else the underbelly provided other than sex work. But he introduced her to that side.

I’ll go easy on this, but… drugs. Period.

After another year of what seemed like something inescapable, now made worse, the best possible thing happened: he overdosed. 

Y’all, we’re mostly out of the downer part of the intro!

With the money she’d gained being one of his stars, as well as that extra money he offered to keep her near, she knew what she had to do. Like… after a while, but we can skip that probably three-month-long gap: start her own brothel!

Using the money she’d received, she rented out a cheap empty building in one of the cheap red light districts. As far as most were concerned, what was once a bar was being converted into a nightclub. Which was, of course, a lie. A good front.

On the verge of bankruptcy by the time it was ready, she was most certainly desperate! But, lucky for her, one of the girls from her old pimp’s bordello followed her in. Soon enough, word spread amongst the community she’d once been so distant from – soon enough, her “nightclub” was filling up.

She would always have to pay thanks to the dead pimp, in a way. Had it not been for him and for how possessive he’d become, she wouldn’t have had a single clue on how to actually run it. And while she was still rocky at first, she gradually became better and better until she was on equal footing with other madams or pimps and was able to gauge clientele just as well.

In addition, had it not been for him, she wouldn’t have realized what was missing! Condoms were provided and deemed a necessity (although, to be fair, it wasn’t as though she knew everything that happened behind doors), the rooms that existed within the “nightclub” were listened to as well as possible to prevent violence (but rooms in other places? hotels, houses? nothing could be ensured, only hoped for - and hoped to be reported if anything happened so the client could be turned away), etc., etc. Ultimately, her girls were more her surrogate daughters – no matter how close or distant in age – than her paychecks.

But lmao she still took a hefty cut of their pay – a whole-ass 55% – less than what her pimp took, but still a LOT for performing no actions. And ss the brothel became more and more popular, that was SO DAMN MUCH. Just per WEEK, really!!

Everything was going so well!! For ten years, the brothel ran with minimal police interference. There were attempts at take-downs, but the brothel began to work like a well-oiled machine – true proof became rather difficult to find.

Until it wasn’t. Until they were clearly closing in. Until Cora was barely getting out by the skin of her teeth. If she and her girls were arrested… not only would they go to jail and all, but all of that money and all of that time? Wasted.

So she handed the keys over to the first girl who would take them – luckily, the girl she would never tell the others was the star (but… the others knew). Her official excuse? She was returning to North Carolina due to a family emergency (one that didn’t exist). If she just randomly fled, she’d certainly be guilty!

Catching word that Clara had wound up in Mapleview, Cora decided to lie low in the small town herself. 

And yes, I made the TikTok meme real. Yes, she’s an “accountant.”

Only not really, she doesn’t use OnlyFans. Whenever she’s “commuting” to that place accountants work… she’s in some one town or another in the mountains, scouting talent. will there be a “nightclub” in mapleview soon?? actually probably not bc it’s so small. but one nearby?? YES!! 

Old habits die hard! 

But May, she may’ve been able to live off of the madam money for a few years, but it must’ve run out by now?

You’re right! I’m currently doing more research into this, but some years ago, she bought out and now owns a nightclub in Asheville!

But May, isn’t that a little far away to be there everyday? And what about her plans? And why would she still have to say she’s an accountant if being a nightclub owner isn’t taboo?

She has hired a manager she trusts greatly and goes down there to oversee things in person perhaps only twice a week! The manager reports to her!

The manager also knows of her plans and aids her in scouting talent! And she does have dirt on the manager as a backup!

And, considering what the club will be turned into, it’s best to keep it mum!

Honestly there are some other things I want to say, but I just remembered Tumblr’s read-more feature broke :)

tl;dr 

(consult trigger list! much lighter in this portion but jic!) born to whitworths who weren’t awful parents but also weren’t stupendous parents i think they just sometimes forgot they were parents! decided to pull a stephen crane and go “study humanity” instead of like… go to college or enter the workforce… wound up in d.c. without much money. ppl in the sus districts were like “omg stay with me! s2g nthn creepy j offering a hand!” which was mostly true! some were like “sex work is lucrative.” she was like “omg ur right.” a young cora became a streetwalker. around 21, one of the johns was like “hi im not actually a john im a pimp do u want to be pimped it’s really cool.” and she was like “omg ya.” but he was pinocchio :\ that being said i feel like i shld mention that while this particular sex work wasn’t necessarily clean, guy at least made testing a thing. some years pass and he’s like “ur great im gonna act like ur my gf and that i’m the only person in ur world but also u still have to sleep w these guys bc i do love money.” good thing about that was that she overheard some of the business talk. bad thing was that he sucked and also liked even seedier things. some years go by and seedier things kill him tho! now catch cora, late 20s or early 30s idk, being like “well with this money… oh wow i have an idea.” was like “gonna convert this cheap empty place into a brothel i mean nightclub.” was almost broke after that but one of the pimp’s girls was like “wait i’ll come along!” soon had a lot of ppl. soon became successful and was actually as humane as a brothel cld be!! evaded the police narrowly, but evaded them. they started rly closing in at one point tho so she was like “oh no family emergency in nc here my best girl i mean u, girl, u r now in charge idk how that works my pimp just died.” went to mapleview. is an “accountant” and by “accountant” i mean that tiktok meme only more extreme bc she’s being a talent scout. old habits… die hard…

personality/misc.

if this bitch ain’t able 2 make her own way,,,, idk who is. (after moving to dc bc u kno financial status in boone wasnt awful or anything) real rags to riches story. benjamin franklin wld be so proud. she found the way to wealth.

probs sleeps on silk sheets covered in rose petals??

tbh tho?? absolute contradiction. manages 2 care a lot and also not care at all. rly depends on where the person stands. rly depends on the relatability. wld probs be a good mom but has no plans of becoming one!!!!!!!! too busy being an accountant!!!!!!

what,, is trust?? what,, is love?? (baby don’t hurt me)

i’m flying by the seat of my pants rn i suddenly got v distracted but!! maybe more will be added when tumblr FIXES ITS DAMN SELF.

connection ideas:

well we got the rest of her siblings over on the npc page and honestly w how different it seems clara and cora turned out,,,, wld be so curious 2 learn wtf everyone else is doing. r they being normal or r they also wilding??? j in different ways??? (0/2)

i’m hesitant to say someone she’s a parental figure to bc honestly,,, those exhaust me sometimes ahfdslk,,, but!! u kno what someone she’s ironically a good influence on (0/2?)

she got a mostly friendly front but bitch!! someone she’s a bad influence on!! (0/2)

some current or past flings (any gender, but keeping age in mind, past wld be like 43+ pls,,,current like 40+?) (0/?)

if anyone lived in boone, some old friends from boone (0/?)

if anyone lived in dc, some ppl she knew in dc (0/?)

also always up for brainstorming or j working off of chemistry!!

feel free to like this or hmu if you’d like to plot !

[ask-theharlequinbrawn]

Angsty Headcanons (AKA Old Posts Rediscovered)

**I came across an old Alonzo bio I made on an RP site ages ago. Sadly the site has died off, and while I’m not completely happy with how this is written, I don’t want it to float off into oblivion either, so I’ll paste it here. (Note: The reason it hardly mentions Victoria is that [if I recall correctly] no one had claimed her yet and so her involvement in the story was *pending* the agreement of whoever would end up playing her. It’s not because Alonzo only loves his brother and ignores his sister’s existence or anything. ;))**

Alonzo, along with his younger sister Victoria and brother Mistoffelees from a later litter, was born to an upperclass queen who mated with a henchtom. He has clear memories of his mother, but only haphazard ones of his father, who had to return to the warehouse for his family's protection. Young as he was, Alonzo declared to his mum that now he was the protector of the family and would look after them all, to which she only laughed indulgently. Despite the father's absence, Alonzo remembers the family making a life for themselves and being mostly happy for at least a short time. However, one day without warning his father burst in shouting something about their needing to leave, to run away immediately. But before he could say more or anything could be done, henchcats attacked their den. When his father first burst into the den saying something about danger, Alonzo had got up a very tough-looking, protective stance, exclaiming that he'd protect his family no matter what came through that door--not that anyone was listening, as they were all trying to understand what his father was on about and what was happening. The moment the big henchcats appeared, however, all of Alonzo's big talk and bravery seemed to vanish. He froze, rooted to the spot, and couldn't seem to do anything, not even as he watched his father finally get overpowered and taken down by the henches. Next his mother confronted the henches, and still Alonzo could only stand frozen and stare at the scene unfolding before him that didn't seem real. As their mother fought on, slowly weakening, Alonzo caught movement in the corner of his eye, which served snap him out of whatever state of shock he'd been in. He saw what looked like his tiny brother Mistoffelees trying to attack the henches himself. Without a second thought, Alonzo threw himself on top of his brother to stop him joining the fight. To his confusion and amazement, there seemed to be a strange sort of heat and glow emanating from the younger tom. There was no time to wonder about it, though. For a moment, Alonzo held onto Misto and stared at the fight still going on in front of them. Half of him desperately wanted to leap into the fray and try to help his mother, the other half - much stronger - wanted desperately to flee the scene. Just before she lost consciousness, his mother hoarsely screamed "Run!" Not staying to deliberate another moment, Alonzo fled the den, dragging his brother and sister along behind him. He could hardly see or think, much less decide where to go, but his paws automatically carried him to their uncle Bustopher’s home, where he babbled out half-unintelligible explanations of what happened, curled up with Misto who still seemed out-of-it, and tried to sleep. The next morning, their uncle gave them the news that their mother was dead. Alonzo had thought so, but the idea hadn't truly hit him until just now. And then the memory of the whole situation and his own cowardly actions came crashing down on him. "I did it, I killed her, it's my fault," he kept muttering. Alonzo and Misto's uncle adopted his sister's kits and was kind as could be, but for quite some time Alonzo was unappreciative of his uncle's care - or, rather, he scarcely noticed it. All he could do most of the day was sit around broodingly, staring at nothing and thinking of his mother and what he ought to have done to save her. The uncle grew weary of this and gave Alonzo a gentle but serious talk about how they couldn't go on like this. Most of his words went over Alonzo's head, but his attention was engaged when the uncle mentioned his brother. "Think of young Mistoffelees, he's got no one but you now. Oh, clumsy old me, I'll of course help as best I can, but mark me words, it's you he's got to look up to and care for him the rest of his life. There's no replacing a brother," and other things of that sort. His words reminded Alonzo of the promise he'd made his mother to protect the family, and he decided then and there that he'd still keep that promise. Alonzo was also reminded of the strange powers his brother seemed to have, and the way the little tom had just thrown himself into danger like that--Alonzo would have to be extra watchful. Things began to look up a bit from there. Taking to heart what his uncle said, Alonzo did his best to look out for his brother and sister and take care of them the way their parents would. He wondered from time to time about the younger kit's powers, but mostly opted to ignore and not mention them, as they made Alonzo rather uneasy. Not long after adopting them, their uncle introduced Alonzo, Victoria, and Misto to the Jellicles and the Junkyard, where they gradually began to spend the majority of their time. This was certainly overall a good thing, as it provided them with a group to belong to, safety in numbers. And then, of course, as they got to know the Jellicles it almost became like a new family. Alonzo certainly began to see them as such. Early on he took a particular liking to Munkustrap, at first mainly because he happened to be the tom closest to his own age, and having never had an older brother and scarcely a father, having another tom to follow around was new and interesting. As they grew older, Alonzo began more and more to view Munkustrap as a hero, almost idolizing him. He aspired to learn all he could from Munkustrap about fighting and protecting. At first this was just from a general desire to become stronger and braver and never again be in a situation like what had happened with his mother--standing by unable to do anything to help. However, it has had more of a specific aim since the Ball and the Macavity attacks. He always had been vaguely aware that the cats who killed his parents worked for Macavity, but it was all very detached until actually meeting the Mystery Cat himself face-to-face. Alonzo did fight, but was knocked down quickly, and doesn't know what he'd have done if the other tribe members hadn't joined in and ganged up until Macavity was forced to flee. This thought shames him and makes him more determined than ever to hone his strength and skills.

[biihoebi]

@newsiesgiftexchange

for @what-goesaround-comesaround for the Newsies Winter Gift Exchange 2020

aaaah ok so this unbetad because usually I bully you into betaing my stuff so it's quite stream of consciousness but whateverr. also maybe I took some creative liberties on the historical accuracy but who cares

(its kind of a shit show but shhhh Irish Spot)

——————————————————————–

read on ao3 here

——————————————————————–

While it was Jack's father who taught him not to starve it was his mother who taught him the value of his heritage. Which is why when the new kid at the lodging house was sitting at the end of his bed, distressed over a throwaway comment Albert had made, Jack was doing his best to comfort them.

"He said I was losing my accent" Rua had all but wailed. "How can I be Irish without me accent. And Granda said he used to have flaming hair like mine before it went dark with age. Then I won't even look Irish." they continued.

"But yer Irish by blood not by hair or by voice. I mean my hair ain't red but you'd be hard pressed tryna tell me I isn't Irish." Jack sighed. "Look, I've never stepped foot in Ireland, youse is ahead of me there, but my Mam kept it alive in the stories she told. Some were legends and some were just memories of her and her siblings getting into all sorts of trouble in the fields. And I can speak Irish just as good as the next guy, no matter what Spot Conlon says" he finished. Rua let out a short sniffle.

"But my Mam works in a factory. I never see her no more" they said wiping their face with their sleeve.

"We ain't the same, I'm Irish sure but I was born here. Youse is better off asking Spot about this, he was born in Dublin, didn't come here til he was about 8. And seeing as Albert started this whole mess he can be the one to go to Brooklyn to deliver the message after he's done selling. Now it's time for newsies to go to bed, you ain't no use selling if your half asleep." Jack declared.

——————————————————————–

To a bright eyed and bushy tailed Rua morning couldn't come soon enough and neither could the circulation bell nor could the final sell of the day. By the time Albert left for Brooklyn every newsie in Manhattan knew about it and was sick of hearing about it.

"Just because Albert's gone today, don't mean Spots gonna visit today. Heck he mightn't even visit at all. Do youse really think this is a big enough deal for the King of Brooklyn to take time out of his busy sche-

"Stop shit stirring Boots" Jack interrupted sternly. "Just because Spot doesn't like Brits like you doesn't mean he won't help out a fellow Paddy" he joked. At that Boots straightened his back

"I'll have you know Mr Kelly that Spot Conlon said I's is the best 'Brit' he knows" he said, smugly straightening an imaginary tie.

"Best of a rotten bunch" a new voice chimed in. Every newsie in the room suddenly started scrambling to look half presentable. "I got your message Kelly, now where's the young wayne?" the person continued. In response Jack stepped aside revealing Rua, who had been hiding behind his legs.

"I-I'm Rua" they stuttered out. The man crouched down to their eye level.

"I'm Spot Conlon, but I thought youse was supposed to be Irish. Where's me 'dia duit'? It's like you ain't even tryin'. No wonder youse losing yer accent" Spot said. That did nothing to help the already nervous wreck that Rua was.

Spot shot up suddenly, shooing everyone but Jack, Rua, Crutchie and Race out. He sat down on the middle bed and kicked his feet up, gesturing for everyone to follow. Ever the rebel Race decided to lean against the bunk instead while the rest settled into the surrounding beds. "Look, Jack says youse is struggling with moving on with yer life while staying Irish. I went through the same thing when I first came 'nd look at me now, King of New York"

"King of Brooklyn" Race coughed out which Spot shot daggers at him for.

"I'se is the King of New York, don't let no street rat tell you otherwise" he spat "but I wasn't always, I was once a youngin like you, fresh off the boat with only my poor parents and a sack full of stuff between us…"

——————————————————————–

The dock bustled with workers and passengers alike. Some leaving but most stepping off boats and into their new lives. Among those coming off was a young Seán Conlon. With wild hair and big eyes filled with the wonder and excitement of seeing somewhere beyond the slums of Dublin. It was an outbreak of TB amongst the tenements that did it in for his parents.

Seán didn't have long to admire the new world he had just entered before his hand was grabbed and he was dragged off into a long line filled with fellow immigrants. Hours passed before the tired young boy would make it through the front door to his new home. It was a small one room apartment completely unlivable by today's standard but to someone from the worst slums in Europe it might as well have been Buckingham. "Go bhfoire Dia orainn, tá sé linne!! Níl aon theaghlach eile ina gconaionn liomsa?" Seán gawked in awe.

"Tá, ach bí curamach, níl cead agat bí ag caint as gaeilge nuair a tá tú taobh amuigh" his father responded.

"Cén fáth?"

"Mar ní maith a lán daoiní, duine eile ag caint as gaeilge agus sin é sin a bhfuil."

"Ceart go leor"

That night Seán lay awake in his bed wondering why anyone could dislike speaking Irish. Well besides the British but Uncle Seamus always said that their opinion didn't matter and that he and a few of his friends from the Irish Republican Brotherhood would soon rid Ireland of them. Whatever that meant. His father would always laugh alongside and say 'that would be the day' while his mother would give out to him for encouraging Seamus.

It wouldn't be for a few weeks that Seán would find out what his dad was talking about. He was out selling papers to help make ends meet, as small as the room was all three of them had to work hard in order to pay for it. He stood there waiting at the gate for the circulation bell to ring, when it happened. On his first day one of the older kids taught him a few tricks and gave him a few pieces of advice. One of those pieces was 'stay away from Acton Williams'. An unspoken rule he had managed to avoid up until that point.

Acton had walked right into him, dropping a strange wooden item in the process. Seán liked to think that his mother raised him right so he apologized and bent down to pick up the trinket

"Brón orm" he mumbled as he crouched, item in hand.

"The fuck you say to me?" Acton grunted. Seán froze realising his mistake and everyone went silent at the sound of Acton's voice.

"I was just saying sorry" Seán rushed out, trying desperately not to get baited so soon after joining the newsies. Acton let out a laugh.

"That's not what you said though is it?" he said " see I think youse was speaking some stupid language from the stupid country you came from. So I'mma ask again 'the fuck you say to me?"

"I said 'brón orm', you heard me the first time," Seán said, gaining confidence. It was one thing to be intimidated by an older kid who would definitely knock your block off but his Nan taught him better than to let someone talk shite about Ireland. Acton scoffed.

"I pity the Mum who raised such a rude brat " he spat taking a step towards Seán.

"Yeah well I pity the Mam who gave birth to such an ugly ogre"

And they were off! Acton could easily outrun Seán's tiny legs so his only hope was to lose him with twists and turns through the back alleys and busy streets. After what felt like hours of running, Seán finally ran into a deadend. Turning to face a panting Acton, Seán gulped and started reciting any and all prayers he could think of to any saints that popped into his head. In fact it wasn't until Seán went to clasp his hands in prayer that he noticed what he had picked up earlier.

A slingshot!!

Grabbing the nearest rock Seán loaded the sling. 'Dear St Anthony, pleeaassee help me find the ability to aim well' he prayed as he scrunched his eyes shut and released.

The next thing Seán heard was the large thump an unconscious Actons body made as it hit the ground. Opening his eyes to examine the noise he had heard Seán was shocked to see his feeble attempt at fighting back was actually a success. Seán quickly pocketed the slingshot and left before Acton had time to wake up.

——————————————————————–

"...and that's what it means to be Irish" Spot finished proudly

"Beating up British people is what it means to be Irish?" Rua said in awe of Spot's story. Spot grinned.

"See, this kid gets it" he joked, ruffling Ruas hair.

"That was a lovely story yer highness but how is that surppsoed to help 'em keep their accent" Race chipped in.

"Well what about you then Higgins if you have so much to say? D'you have any stories worth listening to?"

"What about being Italian? Well I-"

"Italian? Are ye not Irish?"

"No? What made you think that?"

"Yer surname is Higgins"

"Yeah, Higgins is a classic Italian name"

Jack and Spot made eye contact for a good minute before bursting out laughing. "Yer telling me this entire time youse never knew you was Irish?" Jack choked out between laughs. Even Rua stifled a giggle.

"My own mam was a Higgin, Racetrack" Spot roared. "Yee just can't make this stuff up" he said wiping a tear from his eye. Race's face was a brilliant red as he sputtered out excuses.

"Yer just joking, right guys? Right guys??"

——————————————————————–

BONUS :

At the gates the next morning Seán stood there absolutely shitting bricks. What had happened yesterday had been a stroke of luck but if Acton decided to continue the fight he was dead meat.

"Wait, is that Williams? No way what's with the giant bruise on his forehead?" a voice spoke interrupting Seán's train of thought.

"No way that's a bruise, he doesn't get those" another shot back. Soon a whole symphony of voices were arguing over whether it was a bruise or not.

"Wait a minute, weren't you getting chased by him yesterday, newbie? How come there's not a scratch on ya, and why's there only a big bruise on him?" the first voice said piecing the puzzle together. Soon everyone was crowding around Seán, looking for the story of what happened.

"Look nothing really happened" Seán reassured trying to downplay the situation "he chased me for a bit before I eventually shot him with this sling and he passed out on the spot."

Apparently telling them he knocked out the bully of the newsies was not the right thing to say to defuse the situation. Some started cheering for him others just rolled their eyes at his story.

"He clearly made that up on the spot" one voice chiming in.

"Nah, look at Acton, that's a massive bruise, obviously from being shot with a sling" another rebutted. Eventually the crowd settled a bit and someone had the common sense to ask for his name.

"Oh! I'm Seán." he responded. Everyone groaned.

"Not yer real one, yer newsies one" someone said. After Seán told them he didn't have one, everyone put their thinking caps on.

"Let's call him Spot, 'cause we'll never really know if he knocked him down on the spot or made up that story on the spot."

[bangtanmythology]

In The Name Of Song. Truth Uncovered.

About: Y/N finds out the whole story of what she has become and who those around her are. Her training starts and her and Jimin become the siblings he’s always known they were.

Brother!Jimin x Reader, Mermaid!Jimin, Angel!Yoongi. BTS Supernatural AU.

Words: 2.9K

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“I understand the parent’s side of things. My Great, Great Grandmother betrayed a group of witches by having an affair with the head witches’ husband, who was a human and had a child, so they cursed her. The curse meant that she would never be able to marry a regular human or another mermaid, if she did fall in love with any of these then she was destined to kill him with her voice. Right? So, when she sang a lullaby to her baby, the husband died. The baby, who was my great grandmother, ended up marrying an nasty, rebelling mermaid, their female baby was born half mermaid, the other half became what was known as a siren because the baby, our grandmother, used her powers for evil things, she’d lure sailors in, killing them and using them, never falling in love but instead simply killing them. When we use our siren form to lure people instead of making them fall in love, we will simply kill them. Grandma used the sailors and ended up having a baby with one of them, she abandoned this baby and another mermaid raised mum.” You rambled,

The story was beyond complicated, your head spinning round in circles as Jimin stared at you, nodding every so often with a focused look on his face. He reached his hand out and placed it gently on your ankle, in the few hours that Yoongi had left you alone with Jimin you came to realise that he was an extremely clingy person.

“Yes, that’s all correct and then you know the story with mum and dad, we are now indebted to the reapers but the devils and angels work along side these reapers and when an angel falls, instead of becoming a devil, they are stuck wandering around the earth however they retain some of their angel powers. Yoongi is a fallen angel because he betrayed Michael, the archangel. He has not told me what he did to this day. He is stuck on earth, he begged the reapers to kill him again, to take him from this world and place him as a devil in the next but they would not do it. He begged for a purpose, for something to do, for something to protect, they told him that his debt would be payed off if he spent his life watching over our families. They told him that when we turned 18 he had to bring us here and watch us, make sure that we weren’t causing harm to the reality that we were in, this is the 7th Reality, we’re from the first reality which is the main reality. He had some other mermaids brought here to train me, our grandmother is here, she’s going to help you, along with me, we’re going to train you.” Jimin’s voice was soothing, his words somehow sinking fully into you and making it seem as though maybe all of this would be okay. 

“Right, so he is a fallen angel, a bad one? He stares at me funny.” You mumbled, looking down at Jimin’s hand that was now gently running over the smaller grazes on your calves. Jimin looked up at you, shaking his head and laughing,

“He’s not bad, he was kicked out of the angel realm, that’s all, he’s grumpy, I mean he basically looks after this world all alone, the reapers went extinct 9 years ago and nobody else was sent to care for everything. Half of this world is dead, only magical creatures and hybrids live here. There’s human’s who are sent here to repent their sins, a lot of the creatures and hybrids feast on them. Werewolves and vampires are the worst, we have those in our reality too, they are aggressive, dangerous cannibals who feast on people and kill them. Of course, the werewolves and vampires here take care of those who are criminals. Quite often the ones sent here are either humans who commit serious crimes that they get put into life imprisonment or death row. We also have monsters who fight amongst themselves sent here. This is basically a training ground for a lot of people who are supernatural. We only stay here for a coupe of years and then we go back to the reality we are from. Originally, Yoongi was going to be sent to the 2nd reality to purge it, it is a hell reality, everything burns there, everything is crime and corruption. Of course, that would have been an awful place for us to be seeing as we’re weak to fire after all.” Jimin was rambling, his head now on your thighs as you ran your fingers through his hair, petting down the stray hairs that always seemed to stick up around his face.

“Well, if we’re weak to fire, what actually are our powers and what exactly am I doing here? How long will I be here?” you were looking around the cave, the water placing you in a trance as your eyes focused and unfocused on the shapes beneath it.

“Well, our skin is like that of a fish, of course when we are in our human form it doesn’t look like it or feel like it, but it definitely still is. You will notice that you’re now comforted when you are in the water, in fact if you really need to you can actually manipulate the water, nothing intricate, we can’t make patterns or anything but we can make ripples, waves, if we work together in groups we can even cause tsunamis. The ocean is where we are the strongest. I read a few books that say that if we meet another being, we can give them the ability to breath underwater which is obviously one of our strengths. Fire burns us severely, even the slightest touch will scald our skin and burn us, fire will kill us 3 times faster than it will kill anything else. When we sing, we attract others, they become enchanted by the sounds of our voices and we can lure them in, make them fall in love with us. I’ve done so with many girls, that’s why I have a bit of a reputation,” His voice trailed off at the end, his tone turning into a cheeky, playful tone that had you chuckling slightly. The small, adorable guy who was currently half asleep on your lap did not seem like he could be seducing anyone. His cheeky, lazy smile put doubt into you when I t came to his adorable clingy personality and you were sure that he could be a scary person when needed.

“I highly doubt that you are luring any women in with this clinginess Jimin, plus I haven’t sung a day in my life, nor will I, I sound like a trampled cat when I sing and it really isn’t pleasant,” Your voice was full of laughter and playfulness, mimicking his tone. The fever you had been burning up in had since disappeared and Yoongi explained that it was because he dumped you straight into the water as soon as you got here and you had transformed into your mermaid body, the reason behind the cuts, bruises and scrapes across your legs. You had not remembered anything because apparently it had been excruciating and Jimin convinced Yoongi to erase your memory of the pain.

“Hey! I lure plenty of women in I’ll have you know,” Jimin mumbled. You gazed down at him, a loud laugh escaping your mouth as his cheeks burned bright pink. He was half asleep, a huge smile of his face as your fingers continued carding through your hair.

“Y’know, both of us were left with parent’s that knew what we’d become, they’re humans who come from special families, protectors, they take in orphaned supernatural children and babies. I hated them when I first went there, I was 6, I understood what was going on, I wouldn’t talk to them, I lashed out, I did not want to be there. I wanted to go back to you, I wanted my little sister, I’ve known all these years that I had a sister, that I couldn’t contact her, that there was a little girl out there who needed me and I couldn’t do anything, I didn’t try hard enough, I’m a fai-“

“shut up. Do not talk like that Jimin. You couldn’t have done anything, we were separated for a reason, I didn’t know you existed, I was always protected, I never had problems. I used to be different you know, I used to be cheerful and naïve, I had someone in my life, an older brother figure, he protected me. Sure, he betrayed my trust but because of that I became careful, I stopped trusting people, I can analyse people, I closed myself off. Of course, he came back, and he’s kept his promise to this day, but I think something is weird about him. I think he’s like us, he disappears once a month for like a week or so and then he comes back always in a good mood and happy and he’s really athletic, strangely so, he’s really protective as well,” You were rambling, your brain trying to process that Seokjin may be something other than human. That everyone in your life might be more than human.

“He’s not like us, sounds like a werewolf to me,” Jimin sounded angry, his jaw clenching and unclenching to calm himself down, his fingers gripping his sweatpants.

“No way. You said that werewolves are nasty, evil creatures. Seokjin is lovely, he taught me to ride a bike, he took me to my first swimming lesson, he even spoke to my boyfriend when he embarrassed me and broke up with me in front of the whole school,” Your fingers had stilled in his hair, instead resting them on his forehead. Jimin let out a breathy laugh,

“Then he had an ulterior motive, he must have known about you being a mermaid, there is no way he’d do that purely for care for you. He knows more than he is giving up. Also, let me guess, you never saw that guy ever again?” Jimin was looking up at you, dark brown eyes shimmering, luminescent flecks lighting up his iris.

“Well no, I didn’t actually. That’s not like Seokjin, why would he use me for something like that, I knew him for 18 years, you know, I’ll bet that the years that he was gone was because he was here.” Your words were unsure and Jimin’s eyes were scanning over your face, a small pout set on his lips.

“Y/N, you don’t even believe what is coming out of your mouth right now. Anyway, I am sleepy, and I’d rather not sleep now, I’d like to be asleep and not out and about at night because I do not want an encounter with a vampire thank you very much.” Jimin was stretching his legs, raising himself to his feet, stretching his hand out to help you stand up with him. You stood with a groan, your legs protesting, knees feeling as though they were splitting in half from having been crossed for so long.

“How about I teach you how to change into your mermaid form, I mean, we only have a few hours of day light left and if you turn at night, you become a siren, not a mermaid. I’ve never seen one in person, but I’ve heard many rumours, apparently its not pretty, sorry Y/N.” Jimin had a big grin on his face, his previous radiant, happy attitude coming right back.

“You know what, I’d love that.” You smiled, your eyes looking around the cave, then down at your legs, wiggling your toes, patting the slightly damp floor of the cave with the sole of your foot. Your eyes flitted back up to meet Jimin’s.

“I have no idea how this works,” You chuckled, a nervousness creeping into your belly, he laughed and raised his hands above his head, intertwining his fingers and stretching them high above his head, leaning from side to side and then straight down, his hands touching the floor, his body surprisingly flexible.

“Well, first you’re going to need to be naked, there’s no way you can do it with clothes on. I won’t look, I promise, although, it’s not like I haven’t seen a naked woman before you know, and it’s not weird because all the mermaids have to see each other naked and also you’re my sister so I wont look at you in that way.” Jimin was laughing as he spoke, probably a reaction to the disgusted face you were giving him. You shook your head and pursed your lips.

“Definitely not, you need to close your eyes, then I’ll take my clothes off.” You told him, your voice pointed, echoing against the humid grey walls. He nodded his head and turned around, pulling his sweatpants down and jumping into the water, swimming a few feet away and keeping his back to you. You stood still for a moment, ensuring he was not going to turn around and embarrass you. Once he had been facing away from you for a few moments you began to undo your bikini top. Your brain suddenly remembered the words Yoongi had told you.

“Wait. Yoongi said that when I got here, he put me in the water and I transformed, does that mean that I was naked, and he put me back into my bikini?” You mumbled, cheeks heating up as you gripped the material of your bikini top in your hands. You saw Jimin shrug, his shoulders tucking into his neck as he raised his arms up in the air.

“when I got here, you were dressed but you definitely couldn’t have transformed with your clothes on. That’s one thing that Grandma made sure I never did.” He sounded bored and you quickly pushed your bottoms down your legs, stepping out of them and slowly lowering yourself into the water. You sighed as the pain in your legs seemed to disappear, the water seeping into your wounds as the water sparkled and the cuts, grazes and nicks in your skin seem to vanish slowly.

“erm, what’s happening to my legs?” You mumbled, your jaw hanging low as shock set into your body,

“Oh, well this water has been here for years, it’s connected to the sea of life, who even knows I don’t understand it either, this is the only body of water that does that, even the rest of the sea of life doesn’t do that,” He was smiling, you could tell by his tone. His hands clapped together as he mumbled a small ‘right then’ under his breath.

“okay, you need to picture your tail in your head. Close your eyes and imagine a fish, it is a beautiful, shiny fish, it is sparkling and swimming freely, zooming through the sea, it is happy, content with its life. Feel the water graze over its fins, it is warm, flowing in and out of coral and then, it becomes a human, with a beautiful, long tail.” His words are painting an exact picture into your head. You picture an emerald green fish, the colour of Jimin’s tail with golden colouration around its tail. It swam, shining, weaving between rocks, coral and other large fishes around it. The fish became engulfed by a bright light as a sharp shooting pain engulfed your legs and you could hear a faint voice.

“Keep focused, ignore the pain, focus on the fish,”

The bright light faded into a yellow hue, shortly replaced by a turquoise wave that seemed to break directly into your face before the wave disappeared. Small bubbles spread out in the water, a woman with beautiful green hair had her back to you, golden scales over her hips and waist, a large expanse of her back was clear, beautiful skin, the skin merging with the scales on the small of her back. Your eyes moved down to where her legs should have been, the golden scales faded into a beautiful emerald green, the gold returning down the sides of her beautiful, long tail. The bottom fin of her tail was a completely translucent golden colour, shimmering inside of the water. The fin was long, at least a half the size of the tail, split down the middle, two sides forming two curved, soft scalene triangle shapes that fluttered inside the water.

“you did it!”

Your eyes shot open, staring ahead of you. You felt the same, completely normal.

“No, I didn’t. I feel the same,” You mumbled, disappointment sinking into your features. Jimin laughed and shook his head, flicking his emerald tail as he swam towards you, reaching his hands out to grab at your feet, your arms stretch out behind you to balance yourself on the rocks behind you. His eyes glistened a brilliant green as they stared down at your tail.

Tail.

“oh my god! I did it!” You were screaming, the noise bouncing off the walls, a musical symphony piercing your ears, your eyes widened as you heard it, sending chills down yours and Jimin’s spines. You looked down at yourself, the beautiful gold and emerald tail you had seen in your mind was yours. Your chest was a translucent, shiny golden colour, it wasn’t scaly like your tail but more like the skin of a frog, glistening and smooth, your breasts completely covered in the golden colouring.

“Wow, this is amazing,” You laughed, a loud, airy laugh as you wiggled your tail out of Jimin’s grasp

[mittensmorgul]

What do you think about Samwena now? Do you think they can still be endgame?

¯\_(ツ)_/¯

The TNT loop has brought me up through 12.21 today, and it’s wild what new canon can do to recontextualize the past.

I’m putting this under a cut, so that saileen shippers won’t have to subject themselves to my rambling about Eileen and Sam in a way I know they’ll dislike... but I’m tired of feeling like I can’t talk about canon how I see it on my own blog.

Back when these episodes originally aired, with the week to week meta cycle in between, a lot of context was left up to us and never explicitly clarified in canon. Many of us were just thrilled at the notion that Sam had made one (1) friend that he seemed as close with as Dean did, if not closer. We were all ready to read way more into their interactions than was actually there, because Sam just gets so few of these sorts of personal relationships, at all, with anyone.

Things have been provided with clarification now in s15-- like the previous nature of Sam’s relationship with Eileen, and Sam’s repeated insistence to Dean’s teasing that they’re “not like that.” Which seems to be urging me to go back and reexamine everything from the past connected to her without the erroneous assumption that they already had a romantic relationship going offscreen. And let me tell you, that puts an entirely different spin on Eileen’s prior purpose in the narrative. As a parallel for Mary. Which is why I suppose I’ve been finding so many weird Mary parallels for her since her resurrection (starting with the fact that the spell that brought her back was designed to resurrect Mary instead and going right on through all the BMoL Free Will Erasure brainwashing plot literally in the episode where Eileen was murdered by Hellhound).

Lady Bevell: Well, not about this illusion of you that you hold on to. The perfect life. Loving husband and kids. But it never really was perfect, was it? All those secrets you kept from your beloved John – that you were a hunter. That you invited Azazel to visit when he spared John's life.Mary: How do you-Lady Bevell: I have sources, Mary. Everywhere. After you died, your beloved John was a man slowly going mad, searching for revenge. What? Your boys didn't tell you? The drunken rages? The weeks of abandonment? Child abuse, really. It's no wonder they're... damaged. So... enough with the fairy tale. We are returning you to a more pure version of yourself – Mary Campbell, natural born killer.

The “illusion” of the perfect life, the illusion of Free Will, in essence (especially now that we know Chuck was also behind the whole BMoL narrative). Not to mention that in this episode, Toni will later heavily imply that Mary was in fact the one who killed Eileen (even if it wasn’t true... Sam and Dean STILL don’t know who actually killed Eileen). I mean, the fact they found Mary in the process of attempting to murder Jody Mills probably sealed the belief that at the very least, it COULD’VE been Mary who’d done the deed. Even Mary wouldn’t know for sure if she had, because brainwashed:

SAM: Why you spying on us? Oh, and what do you know about Eileen Leahy?TONI: Who?DEAN: Did you – did – did your people, did they kill her?TONI: Probably. Rule of thumb – if you think we killed someone, then we probably did. Speaking of, you do realize that by attacking me, you invite the retribution of the entire British Men of Letters? Investigation, no trial. Just punishment and ruin. Possibly at the hands of Mary Winchester.DEAN: The hell is that supposed to mean?TONI: Your mother – she's our permanent guest.SAM: She's your prisoner? Why?TONI: Prisoner? Who said anything about prisoner? No, Mary's joined the team. Even has her own super secret decoder ring.SAM: You're lying.TONI: You're right. There is no ring. Oh, boys and their mums. See, you see her as Mummy. We see her as one of our best killers.

Sam’s main drive during s12 was doing whatever he could to desperately create any sort of relationship with Mary that he could (even willingly working with people who’d TORTURED him), and this is what haunted him into s13, as well, after destroying the BMoL to save Mary, and then almost immediately losing her again to the AU.

Do I think that Sam is considering the possibility of a real relationship with Eileen? Probably, yeah, after Dean’s prodding, especially. But Dean was fundamentally misunderstanding the nature of Sam’s “agreement” with Eileen there. It wasn’t about a romantic arrangement.

Because they aren’t like that.

Eileen propositioned Sam in 15.07 (in the name of doing something “fun”), yes, but I still can’t see Sam’s reaction there as anything but surprise and consternation. He seems almost relieved that Cas showed up when he did to interrupt what would otherwise have been an uncomfortable and probably embarrassing talk.

When Dean asked about Eileen in 15.08, it felt to me like Sam’s comment about them having an agreement was directly about the opening scene... where Sam had secretly followed her out on a hunt, and then nearly getting himself killed both by Eileen AND the vampire, all because he didn’t trust her to handle it or ask for help if she needed it.

Their agreement gets further contextualization via Sue’s comment to Eileen, taunting her about having to “get permission” to come out and help her on a hunt. Because that’s exactly what she had to do. That was the nature of her agreement with Sam-- that she wouldn’t just leave without at least leaving a note (Sam’s exact words to her in that opening scene... “You could’ve left a note.”)

DEAN: Yeah. Eileen did good, right? Getting us back from hell. She doing okay?SAM: Yeah. I guess.DEAN: You guess?SAM: If she needs something from me, she'll tell me. We have an agreement.

It felt like Sam was telling Dean that he didn’t know how Eileen was, because part of their agreement was that Sam... not pester her over this sort of thing. Sam seemed... disappointed over the whole situation. Dean immediately turned this into a relationship thing, though, leaving Sam slightly confused, but probably considering the option, at least.

DEAN: You have an agreement? That's adorable. Look, man, I didn't want to say anything, okay, 'cause I was kind of in... in a bad place, and, uh, yeah, I didn't want to jinx it or whatever, but, you know, I tried the family thing, right?SAM: Yeah, me too. And that's not for us.DEAN: No, not really. But I'm just saying if it was to work, Eileen, you know, she gets it. She gets us. She gets the life. She's hot.SAM: Dean. I mean, I'm not even...DEAN: Look, all I'm saying is you... you could do worse, okay? And she could certainly do better. Like, so much better. I'm happy for you, Sammy.

If only Dean hadn’t framed it as essentially “settling” for someone just because they conveniently ticked off the most basic “someone in the life” box.

And if only this hadn’t come two scenes after Sam found Rowena, dead, in Hell. And literally flinching at the change that he saw in her. Almost as if Dean was trying to give Sam the “it’s not so bad. You couldn’t save Rowena, but at least you have a backup romantic interest, since you can’t resurrect Rowena and make everything okay with her, because you already used Rowena’s own spell to resurrect Eileen...” It felt like a weirdly hearty consolation speech in that context.

And if this hadn’t felt like more of a comment on DEAN’S recent mental turnaround after his experiences in 15.07, and his tentative hope that things between him and Cas aren’t completely kaput, that Cas hadn’t completely written him off, after Rowena’s little Marriage Counselling session with them (again, two scenes earlier).

Now is this to say that Sam’s emotional investment in a relationship with Eileen can’t change going forward? Absolutely not! He might really, truly invest himself in a relationship with her!

I’m extremely interested to see what happens in 15.09, because I think that episode will hopefully give us so many of the answers we’ve been waiting for. Not necessarily about endgame love interests, but about Chuck’s involvement in the first half of the season’s unfolding drama. And I think Rowena will have a continuing part to play after that point.

Does that mean I think Sam’s emotional investment in a potential relationship with Rowena can’t be rekindled? We’ll have to wait and see, but as it stood after 15.08, Sam, at least, seemed to be shaken by the change that had come over her after her sacrifice.

SAM: Rowena, I...ROWENA: Samuel, please. You killing me was one of the best things that ever happened. Yes, there are things I miss about being alive. Flesh-on-flesh sex. Amazon doesn't deliver here... yet. But, lads, I'm queen. My subjects revere me. Well, fear me, which is better. I should have died a long time ago. Samuel, be a dear.SAM: Yeah.

This has to be like a knife to him, you know? He’d been so invested in her redemption, as the Fated Agent of her final demise. And for Sam, who knows what she feared and who she loved (but Sam doesn’t know he’s on that list, she told him flat out he wasn’t right before she told him to kill her), she represents his current biggest failure, you know? He capitulated to Destiny, because he had no other choice. And that is still the worst thing anyone on the show can possibly say.

THIS was the final straw that drove Dean to anger with Cas, too. Rowena’s death was the direct result of Cas’s choice to kill Belphegor rather than let him complete his spell. It’s all interconnected, and it’s all painful, and it’s all a direct result of Chuck’s breaking the story the way he did in 14.20.

So make of this what you will, but I’m tired of not talking about these far bigger themes to avoid upsetting shippers who want saileen to be endgame. We’re not there yet, and until we are, I want to talk about all of this in a nonjudgmental way, because I think it’s all interesting, not because I have some shipping agenda.

I know I have more to say about all of this, but this is a good start, at least.

[letterboxd]

For Sama.

“I think I crossed a lot of lines. One of the important reasons I had no limitations was because while I was filming, I never expected to stay alive.” —Waad al-Kateab, director of For Sama, newly minted Oscar nominee and Letterboxd’s highest-rated documentary of 2019.

In an awards season where the Academy Awards’ Best Director nominees are all male, it’s in the Documentary Feature category that you’ll find the women, on four out of the five nominated films: Julia Reichert (a director of American Factory), Petra Costa (director of The Edge of Democracy), Tamara Kotevska (co-director of Honeyland), and Waad al-Kateab, one half of For Sama’s directing team. (The final nominee is Feras Fayad’s The Cave, notably produced by Kirstine Barfod and Sigrid Jonsson Dyekjær.)

For Sama began as a record of the tragedies that so many don’t see, and turned into an essential, enormous archive of footage taking the documentary world by storm this awards season. There have been, and will be, many other documentaries about Syria, but what makes For Sama unique is its female eye behind the camera.

Looking forward to a future as a new mother and young wife to the love of her life, Hamza, Waad al-Kateab was never afforded the freedom to simply savor young motherhood. From age 21 she filmed the horrors and small joys of every-day life in rebel-held Aleppo covering five years of political uprising. This included the taxing day-to-day work of her doctor husband and their friends in the small hospital they ran on courage and donations.

That Waad made it out of Syria with her 500 hours of footage is no small miracle. Having gained refuge in London, she partnered with Emmy-award winning director Edward Watts to shape the film. We see her grow as a storyteller and become more courageous in her focus, zooming closer into wounds and keeping the camera rolling, even when those on screen are drawing their very last breaths.

For Sama has made waves around the world since premiering at SXSW in 2019. It’s an overwhelming experience; fearless filmmaking that captures the immense and urgent extremities of human joy and suffering. David Ehrlich called the film a “bracingly horrific yet resiliently beautiful documentary”. Graham Williamson noted that “beauty, in For Sama, is a reminder of humanity, a reminder that people still live and give birth and play and laugh and fall in love in these places, as well as just die”. Many other Letterboxd members could only quote al-Kateab’s poetic narration directly, to describe their intense emotional responses to the film:

“My first baby, Sama. Her name is meaning ‘the sky’. Sky we love, sky we want. Without air forces. Without bombing. Sky with sun, with clouds. With birds.”

This is what the filmmaker says of her daughter, epitomizing the hope that was never lost, that allowed her to be where she is today. Waad and Edward spoke to Letterboxd correspondent Ella Kemp just as our 2019 Year in Review went live, with their film topping the documentary list.

‘For Sama’ director Waad al-Kateab.

For Sama is the highest-rated documentary of 2019 on Letterboxd. It’s also the highest rated feature-length documentary of the 2010s, and is in our top ten documentaries of all-time. How does that make you feel? Edward Watts: That’s incredible.

Waad al-Kateab: To know that and to see that the film isn’t just doing well as a Syrian mission but in the film industry, it really means a lot to us.

EW: And to know that it’s reaching so many people is such good news. The dream was always that the film would reach many people and they would come in contact with this incredible story.

How did the film come together from over 500 hours of footage? WaK: I worked with Ed for two years to shape the film’s story, to decide what we wanted to keep and take out. We were open to trying everything. We had really amazing editors who were also so flexible with us and would let us try anything.

EW: It was about the meeting of our two perspectives as well. Obviously Waad had lived the experience, she was the insider. It was her story and in so many ways it was her people’s story, and I was coming to it from the point of view of an audience, of an outsider, albeit one that cared passionately about Syria and what happened there. The beginning part of the process was understanding our two perspectives and what was important to both of them, where they met in the middle. It was like sculpting, gradually working down this huge, extraordinary and powerful archive, and the shape of the film gradually taking form.

Ed, you’ve praised Waad’s footage for capturing “the full spectrum of humanity”. How did you find that balance in the final cut? EW: That was one of the reasons it took two years—it was a very complicated process to find that balance. In a lot of our earlier versions we didn’t have that balance. When it was told chronologically, you started in a place of light and hope, those positive emotions of the early days of the revolution. But then it was kind of a straight line down into the darkness and you ended with this long section during the siege and all of the hardship that involved.

It was too much, the audiences we showed early on became overwhelmed by the darkness at the end. It was a real journey. Because that wasn’t the truth of the experience, that was clear from the footage but also from Waad and Hamza themselves. The truth of the experience was that full spectrum of human emotion, so it was about finding the best way to reflect that by always thinking to ourselves, we’ve just had something really horrific, how do we bring it to the light? How do we keep it moving so that we never get stuck in one emotional place? When we changed the chronological structure to move around in time, that helped hugely.

Waad, in this film you’re omnipresent as a filmmaker, a citizen journalist, a mother, a wife. How do you see these roles informing each other? WaK: They were all mixed together while working on the film and living in those circumstances. In one second it was most important to be the journalist and the filmmaker, focusing on how I should shoot something, but then it would always still be so important to keep my awareness as a mother to protect my child and keep hope all the time. Sometimes you feel as a mum that you can’t leave, that you can’t film and abandon the one-year-old child—but this is what life was in those circumstances, it’s all mixed. I was just trying to live everything as much as I could to give it the right work and effort.

The finished product frames women’s domesticity in an urgent way. There’s war, there’s violence, there’s men fighting, but there’s also all the women behind and alongside it. WaK: In all the films and reports from Syria, we’ve never felt like our voice is heard. Even if there are female characters in movies, no one has their own voice in that loud way. There are layers of feeling happening very deeply to reflect the truest experience. We’ve never seen films like this. When I was doing the film I was focusing on how I can reflect the experience exactly, one that can speak to everything I love, everything I hate, everything I was scared about, to be honest with all the women and mothers who lived through that, who can see themselves in my shoes and see what I’ve done for Sama and for my work as well.

You film so viscerally, always going further, rather than choosing when to censor or cut away. Were there ever lines you felt you couldn’t cross? WaK: I think I crossed a lot of lines. One of the important reasons I had no limitations was because while I was filming, I never expected to stay alive. In everything I was doing, I thought, I could be dead tomorrow. So I kept filming, going deeply through all the fears we were living. It allowed me to be okay with everything, because I’m not a foreign journalist coming to film other people’s suffering. I’m living through that, and I know exactly what it means. I think that’s why if I were to make the film now and I knew I would survive, there might be many things I wouldn’t have filmed in that way.

Hamza al-Kateab, in white coat, holding his daughter Sama, with fellow hospital staff in rebel-held Aleppo.

When did you decide on the perspective of the narration, in addressing the film to Sama, Waad’s daughter? EW: The idea didn’t come until we were two thirds of the way through the whole process of crafting the film. When you’re living with this material for so long, suddenly you can hear it in a different way and suddenly it begins to speak to you. It was a moment of epiphany where we tuned into that essence of the film, not only in the way that Waad and Hamza had lived was for Sama, but the way Waad had shot the footage had a conversation going on with Sama, even before Sama was born, in the way Waad filmed her pregnancy. It was just one of those moments where we found the key that unlocked everything, and everything fell into place. Hamza is a very stoical person, but we called him up when we had this idea and Waad explained, and he started crying. That’s how we knew it was a good idea.

WaK: By linking everything to Sama, it becomes about not just Sama as my daughter but also as an idea of the future in general, hope, everything we were fighting for. Sama was one simple example of why the struggle existed. Everyone around me felt they could name the film for their own kids too. It really touched everyone who went through that experience in different ways. Everyone who has kids, everyone who dreams of having kids, even those who don’t want to bring kids into this world but have a stake in the future and are fighting for something for themselves, or for their country, or for their life.

You’ve said before that films can’t change the world. What do you hope for the legacy of For Sama? WaK: Films can’t change the world but people can. People who could be engaged in the film and really want to do something. That’s why we didn’t stop at making For Sama a film—that’s why we launched our impact campaign, Action For Sama. We ask people to react to what’s happening right now in Syria, to the bombing of hospitals and civilians, to make a movement.

EW: I had this great conversation, admittedly with one of those people you find in Los Angeles full of wacky ideas. I said, “films can’t change the world,” and he said, “man, what are you talking about! Your film is changing the soul of mankind!”. It was a bit much, but there’s something about this film that has connected people with what happened in Syria in such a visceral, emotional and personal way.

I wonder whether maybe it is part of the change that’s happening, that hopefully people will start seeing how connected we all are and that one day we might not live in a world where crimes are committed with impunity in the Middle East or elsewhere and we wring our hands and say that there’s nothing we can do. I really hope that this film is part of this sense that in order to solve the world’s problems and to stand up against these crimes and these tyrants, we all need to work together.

What film first made you want to be a filmmaker? EW: My parents were never together, and I only saw my dad once a month. He was a huge film lover, that was the thing that he chose us to bond over. He showed me Yellow Submarine, that trippy Beatles film. I got obsessed with the flying glove. And then he showed me a film called Séance on a Wet Afternoon, and I watched that when I was eight and didn’t know what the hell was going on. There was something about his passion for film that I drank in at a very early age.

WaK: I really don’t know the answer and have never thought about it. Even when I started filming, I’d never really thought I would be in this position as a director. What really makes me want to make films is the fact that we had such a lack of media and freedom in our country. Because we felt that there was nothing allowed to us, not to watch, not to do. Everything was totally under their control. That’s why I felt that I wanted to do something we couldn’t really hear or see before, which is why For Sama came to be.

What do you think of the specific strength of documentary as a form? WaK: I didn’t really watch many other things in the past. I’ve been watching documentaries here, one of the things I watched and really loved was American Factory. The other one was The Great Hack. The Biggest Little Farm, One Child Nation. Most of the people who are with us in this category! The only thing I knew about documentary was my point of view. When I watch these other movies, I admire all these people and love their films, and enjoy how you can see the world through different points of view.

EW: This is the great age for documentary. I’ve been making docs for over ten years. I think documentary is the right form for these crazy days we’re living through. These days of great turbulence, when the history of humanity is at such a critical juncture. I think documentaries in their reality, in their ability to tell us so much about who we really are, and these amazing people who are around the world, living extraordinary lives and showing the best of courage and humanity and difficult circumstances, I think that’s why they’re resonating more and more. Because sadly the world is more and more troubled.

One of the earliest documentaries that I loved was Burma VJ: Reporting from a Closed Country—it was just an example of a country I’d never been to, a story that was so hard to tell, and yet, similar to this, it was told through the footage of the people who had actually lived through it. It’s such an extraordinary story of hope, and human beings’ desire for freedom, and then the violence of dictators that crashed that. Nothing like a documentary can capture that emotion when you’re dealing with events of such magnitude.

Which Syrian filmmakers and films should Letterboxd members seek out? WaK: There’s a filmmaker called Ossama Mohammed, he has a film called Silvered Water. There’s also Omar Amiralay, and Ziad Kalthoum, who did Taste of Cement. There are so many about people who maybe you haven’t heard of, but who really created cinema for Syria, who were trying to work in very hard circumstances while everything was happening.

Sama, with sign.

On the red carpet in Cannes you held up a sign: “Stop bombing hospitals”. What do you feel about your role at these kinds of events across awards season? WaK: I see myself as a Syrian woman who believes in this cause, and that’s why I made the film. I really believe that any filmmaker has a cause in their life and that’s why they’re really doing a lot things, out of passion. On every platform we can reach with For Sama, it really needs to be about Syria, and for Syria, and for the people, for this experience which I can’t just move on from.

That’s why we held the signs, that’s why in everything we are trying to do now, it’s always about how we can shed light on what’s happening. I hope we can continue to do that. We don’t do films for nothing. We want to be useful as much as we can, to be the voice for our own people and doing more for the future.

‘For Sama’ is currently streaming on PBS Frontline in the US and on Channel 4 in the UK. The 92nd Academy Awards will be held on 9 February 2020. All images courtesy of PBS Distribution.

[yee-to-my-haw]

What Narcissus did before he had his soul/source of power split in half and given to Moon as a punishment: a very casual and badly written tale

So there was a war between the Purists and Everyone Else about 3 000 years ago.

The Purists are those that believed every single creature must procreate between themselves and keep their species pure. Meaning, an orc should procreate with an orc. A fae should procreate with a fae. A Kappa should be with a Kappa, a mermaid with another mermaid or merman, humans stay with humans, etc.

Everyone Else, well. They disagreed. If an orc wants to shag a kappa then she should be free to do so. If an alien wanted to shag a local then let them. Before the war happened, the half breeds were shunned and oftentimes executed along with their parents.

Even the Elders weren't spared from that treatment (Elders... are entities that were there before everything, I guess. They created everything around us, idk if that makes sense. They were just. Always there. Though with time they are less and less invested with their creations, they're just our there minding their business, sipping tea or some shit). They were also heavily involved in the war.

Narcissus' mother is an Elder. She and her twin were the ones that created worlds. More specifically, the universe I'm writing in. The story behind the birth of Narci is pretty much like a Greek myth in the sense that Terra (his mum) was just out there and saw a fey and she was like hot damn they pretty as fuck I wanna shag and they shagged and boom, they got Narci. The Fey was decapitated. Narci was spared. (Oh how they regretted that decision) Terra was shunned.

But yeah, when the war happened, Narci was a young teen. And by then he was already a one man army and wiped out most of the Purists. Everyone was like oh cool this guy is rad. Narci was like oh sweet me powerful what can I do with my powers?

So he went around and fucked with gods and human lives, broke up a strong relationship here, ruined a birthday there with a murder, picked a random person and every year of their life, on their birthday, killed someone they loved, cursed a bloodline line there, cursed a whole ass planet, made an alien god go insane and destructed his own worshippers, fabricated lies that destroyed relationships and entire lives. All of that because he was curious. He wants to know what could happen to people if *this* or *that* happened. He never really took anyone or anything seriously except from justice. If he found something to be unfair, he would take matters into his own hands and make sure that whoever did something unjust, he would make them suffer. Everytime someone gave off signs of being unfair or even being a Purist, that person was in grave danger. (Narci said fuck racists/homophobes/nazis/xenophobes/terfs/etc)

But his sense of justice was quite ironic, I mean look at what he did out of curiosity.

So you know how I said elders didnt mingle much anymore they were just minding their business? K so, at some point they started noticing Narci and the shit he was doing and they were like yo we gotta uh. Do something about this dude. Hes getting too powerful. And problematic. So while they were trying to find a solution, Ddaear (Terra's twin) was like imma go talk to this kid yo. So they did and they were like listen here you lil shit, before you were born I told yo mama it was a terrible idea to go shag that Fey bc they were already powerful and a mix with a powerful fey and an Elder couldn't end well and you know what your mum said? She said nah it cant be that bad, I'm actually a kind soul, the kid can't be a dick. Well guess what? You're proving me right. You're a piece of shit. Stop being a clown, the world isnt a circus. And Narci was like how dare you talk to me like that and how dare you talk about my mother like that. And Ddaear was like you know what fuck it you gon get your first punishment next time you do something dumb and Narci was like lmao what are you gonna do? Spank me?

Long story short, an elder made the mistake of saying Narci was an abomination and never should have even existed and Narci was like fuck did u say bout me? And drained the Elder until there was nothing left of them. The others were like ? Miss Keysha? Miss Keysha??? Oh fuck she dead and they were like that's it you're getting split so they literally tore his entire self in two and with the other half they were like we're keeping this shit and giving it to someone that deserves it or would actually be able to repair all the shit he's done. So yeah, that's how Narci went too far and got his soul, source of power, his everything split. And yes, the process was excruciating. Did that stop him? Kinda. He doesn't pull the kind of shit he did before (its not like he ca- well... 2 000 years on earth did teach him a few things, but hes still not as powerful as he once was) but he still found a way to respect the laws while doing his nasty shit for fun so he could get away with it. In our say and age, he uses his powers to commit petty crimes and takes people's most prized possessions for his own collection. Because he likes it. Well, he did that until he found Moon and found out she was the one that received his other half. But his story with Moon is for another day.

Anyways that's that. Now you know what I mean when I say this guy is a dick and yall shouldn't like him. I mean I get it, he's a gorgeous dick, he sometimes stands for very valid causes, but he's dick nonetheless.

(Feel free to ask if you want random stories of shit he's done)