#home in a village in the middle of nowhere where no one knows who they are and no one will ever come looking. and they have a community and

[boygirlctommy]

love posting about ev and an as if theyre in love. i mean are they? i have no idea. nary a clue

[rayassecretlife]

Do you still love me?

Pairing: Aged up!Neteyam Sully x Fem!Omaticaya!reader

Summary: You and Neteyam’s family has stayed the same for many years, only one daughter who was now 4. But you fear that Neteyam doesn’t want more, scared he had fallen out of love with you after the birth.

Warning(s): Mature language, mentions of miscarriage, dad!Neteyam being a warning himself, just a lot of fluff and angst etc. not proof read

“Mama!” Your ears twitched at the voice, your daughters crying voice echoing through high camp. You had been working on one of the hunters but quickly excused yourself at her call, pushing past the groups of people to get to her voice. “Where is mama!”

“Aratakai!” The people moved away from you once they noticed, all bowing their heads as you passed and apologizing for stepping in the way. You finally got to the center of the circle, a sigh of relief leaving your chest as you made eye contact with her. “What’s wrong?” She runs to you, clinging to your leg like she had been scared somebody would take her away. You looked up at the other person, forehead creasing at him.

“Look, Y/N-“

“Bad men! Bad men!” Your four year old cries against your leg and your eyes quickly glare at him, watching his ears fall. “Try to get uncle Lo’ak”

“Y/N, I swear I didn’t mean to bring her in the middle I-“

“You brought her on your scouting trip?!” Your voice is enough to alert the whole village and everyone around you is staring at Lo’ak, watching in fear of when Neteyam would approach. He was nowhere to be seen, which was a surprise being that he could feel your emotions and most definitely could feel your rage. “I won’t even let Neteyam bring her outside the barriers! Her own father!”

“She was already out there!” He interrupts, kneeling down to your daughter who had been clinging to your leg. “Arat, tell her what you were-“

“Enough!” You hiss, reaching down to pull her into your arms. Your heart was beating terribly fast, and her cries only made it worse. “I thought you grew out of your immature faze, Lo’ak. I guess I was wrong-“

“T-try get the fruit, mama” You looked down at your daughters face, tears staining her small cheeks. “Uncle Lo’ak take me home” Your ears flatten at her words, taking a second to look back at your brother in law. He understood your frustration, he wasn’t mad at you for snapping.

“Lo’ak-“

“Make way!” One of the hunters called, the very large Ikran coming to the group. Lo’ak gave you a reassuring look and you nodded, hand pulling your daughters head to lay against you, making sure she felt safe.

“Ma’Tìyawn, what happened?” Neteyam’s voice makes her lift her head, now allowing him to see her tears. You could feel his fear and anger raise almost instantly, looking around to find the route of the problem. “Arat-“

“She got into the forest, Neteyam” You tell him, now feeling your own tears ghost your eyes. You were so worried, so angry that someone had brought her down there. She was only 4, there was no way she could’ve made it herself—not without an Ikran. “Somebody brought her down there”

Your husband looks around at your clan, jaw clenched tightly with his eyes strained on each and every one of their faces. When Arat was born, he set strict rules to never bring any harm to her. The people were sworn to protect her at all costs, so who the hell put her in danger?

Whoever it was, he was going to find out—and he was going to kill them. There was no debate about that.

“Lo’ak found her… brought her home” His eyes turn to his younger brother, watching his eyes soften at the sight of him. When Lo’ak found her, he didn’t know how she had even gotten there—so confused he searched the area for the person.

But he got caught between sky people, and Arat almost got hurt. He had never been more disappointed in himself—never been so terrified something could happen.

You and Neteyam kept her secluded from anything that involved danger. It was your biggest fear that something could happen to her because even though you’d feel like this with any child of yours, she was your only one.

You needed to protect her.

He thanked his brother before turning back to you, noticing how badly you’d been holding your tears back. “If you saw anything of my daughter leaving high camp, I suggest you tell me” He raises his voice to the clan, anger even worse now that his family was upset. “I will find whoever did this. And if not me, you better pray she doesn’t find you” The clan chants to him and his word, knowing their fear of you and neteyam was much greater then their fear of the sky people.

“As I’ve said before, my daughters safety is all of your priorities in battle! Let one finger touch her, I won’t hesitate to retaliate against you, do I make myself clear!” You close your eyes as you stroke your daughters hair, letting a few tears fall from your eyes with a sigh. You just wanted to go home now. “You are dismissed”

Lo’ak places a hand on your shoulder and presses a small kiss to his nieces head before leaving, Neteyam finally turning to tend to you and your daughter.

“Y/N-“

“I want to go home” You ignore him, turning to walk back to your cave with Arat still in your arms. He followed of course, but very confused as to why you were acting so angry at him. Why were you so upset? He understood, but there is nothing more he can do.

“Fruit?” Your daughters voice is soft against your ear and you sigh, nodding your head with a sniffle as you set her down onto her feet. Neteyam leaned against the doorway, watching your every move as you put out some of the fresh fruit you had from before. “Thanks, mama” her little lisp surfaces and Neteyam couldn’t help but chuckle, watching you wipe off her tear stained cheeks.

“Excuse me” You cleared your throat before making your way into you and Neteyam’s shared room, not even making it to the bed until his voice chimed in.

“Can you talk to me?” You continued to ignore your mate, walking over to the basket that sat on the floor to pull your small cover up from it. You already knew this argument that was bound to happen. Always doing this around in circles bullshit. “Y/N”

“Leave me alone, Neteyam. Please” yeah, now he knew you were mad. Usually you’d be all over him by now, knowing that he had to work a lot and most of the time wasn’t home to spend time with you unless it was at night before going to bed. What he didn’t know, are the thoughts you’ve been having the past couple of days.

Before you gave birth to your daughter, Neteyam would talk about wanting a huge family. He wanted boys, girls, even a pet. You wanted all those things with him, but as soon as you gave birth—it was like everything you had planned changed.

Neteyam never showed interest in mating any more, barely even seeing you during the day due to his duties. You’d cry when he wasn’t around, wishing you still had that teenage fever love. Was it the birth? Did he not love you anymore? It was so unusual for a Na’vi to lose interest in their mate, but your relationship just felt so one sided.

And then there was the miscarriage.

The loss of your second baby took a huge toll on your relationship for the worst. Neteyam and you would be constantly fighting, and you didn’t work for the longest time just trying to get out of the cave. You felt useless, the people hadn’t seen their Tsahìk for many two weeks.

That is the reason you were so protective over your daughter. She was the only child you had and probably would ever get to have. It stung, you loved the idea of a big family. You never even bothered to confront him.

“Y/N, I can feel your upset with me. What is wrong?” He grabs your hand, turning you to face him. His face was full of worry, taking in the sight of your tears in front of him. Eywa, how he hated it when you cried. His hands reach to cup your face but you push them away.

“Don’t act like you care now” His forehead creases at your words and he’s already shaking his head, more then confused as to what you had been talking about.

“What? Your crying, My love. Of course I’m gonna care-“

“Really? Because you didn’t the last few weeks” Now he was full on mugging you, knowing for a fact that if you had been crying he would’ve known. He would have felt your sadness… he should have felt everything. “Our daughter could’ve gotten hurt today, Neteyam. Where were you?”

“She’s here, isn’t she? I’m sorry I wasn’t there, but you know I have duties and you cannot worry so much. I will find out who took her-“

“Not worry so much? I don’t have a choice, Neteyam! She’s our only daughter! Our only child! If I lose her… Oh Eywa, if we lost her…” You shook your head, wiping your tears as they quickly began to fall. “She’s all I’ve ever wanted, Nete. I can’t lose her”

“That’s what this is about? Why were you crying before-“

“Because you don’t love me anymore!” You snap, your husbands jaw dropping at your accusation. Didn’t love you? Was that a joke? “Y-you promised me a family, and I give birth and you just lose all interest in me!”

“Y/N-“

“I’ve gone through so many heat cycles, Neteyam. If you don’t want more just tell me!” He was took aback by your sudden outburst, hand pulling your waist so you could be closer to him. “And then the miscarriage… Am I just not good enough anymore?”

Eywa, you were so clueless. “Not good enough? Was that a joke?” He reaches up to cup your face in his hands, finally being able to wipe the tears from your cheeks. “Y/N, my mate, my wife, my beautiful fucking Tsahìk—you really believe I don’t love you anymore?”

“Everyday I wake up to you sleeping next to me, praying to Eywa that she keeps you safe while I’m gone. Telling you how beautiful you are everytime I see you, bringing home gifts for you and Arat, talking peoples ears off about you. I can’t even remember what my life was like when I wasn’t in love with you”

“And mating? I’ve always wanted to, but it’s been so long I didn’t think you wanted to anymore… and Arat’s birth hurt you so much I didn’t want to hurt you again” He thumbs away your tears, lifting your head so you could stare directly at him. “The miscarriage was not your fault, Baby. I promise you, everything you’ve been feeling, is the exact opposite of what I feel”

“Because I love you, and I want to build a family with you. I still want it all with you, Y/N. You hear me? Don’t cry, don’t cry because of this” His confession only made your tears worsen, arms wrapping around him tightly so you could cry. You were so naive, so stupid to believe he didn’t love you. Neteyam was a busy man, you should have known.

“I don’t want to lose you, Teyam” he shushes you, hand caressing the small of your back and your hair. Lose him? As if you could get rid of him that easily. “I’m sorry…”

“Don’t be sorry, I wish you would’ve told me before so I could’ve fixed it” He sighs against you, pulling away after awhile and almost instantly taking your head back into his hands. “I love you so fucking much, Y/N. Do you hear me? Never say something like that ever again”

You sniffle, nodding your head with a small smile, leaning into your mate to press a kiss to his lips. “I love you so much more” He only pulls you back in, hands gently resting on your throat just to hold you there. He wanted you to know he was there, not going anywhere anytime soon.

“So, about baby number two?”

This is probably bad, I threw this together randomly butttttt finished in an hour so new record 🤭. Enjoy this little fluff while I prepare my smut writings!!

[obsessive-valentine]

Yandere!vampire x GN!Reader (HC’s)

Growing tired of a lonesome life he sets eyes on you but you can’t ever imagine yourself growing to love such a monster, he isn’t to worried believes you will come around at some point, he’s fine with waiting for a couple of centuries. For now he will just hang around and admire his first and only love; Possible Stockholm syndrome?

No one, not even you, will ever know why you were taken from your house in a beautiful but sleepy European town during dusk; but people came up with theory’s. Most agreed upon was you had been taken by the monster who’d been terrorising the village people for years now, and there was nothing they could do about it. So the case was closed, your loss mourned, then life went on thinking you were dead amongst the other random victims of the beast.

But to him you were anything but random or a victim for him to slaughter, only he knows ‘why you’. No one made it to the manor house, he resided in, alive not even him being dead himself; no one until you.

He’d kidnapped you fairly fuss-free, the only consequence was the nasty bump on the back of your head rendering you unconscious but manageable. He laid you in silks and vintage furs on a capacious bed with gold a painted frame and placed ice on your head in an attempt to soothe the ache in your skull.

You were scared into submission by the creature for the first few days - you could have mistaken it for the devil himself with red eyes that bored into your soul and sharp threatening teeth. He responded in short sentences, usually stern and held a disinterested expression that made his eyes look more menacing than he truly was. It was confusing to decipher what he wanted from you, he didn’t seem to want blood but neither to happy about your unwilling company.

“I wanted you, so I took you. Lets not complicate it”

You’d come to learn that he wasn’t unhappy with you at all that was just the sort of face he has, being isolated for uncountable years meant his emotional awareness and expressions had grown rusty to say the least. You’d learn he just liked to be in the same room as you, he didn’t toy with you or worse, he came to sit in the corner of your bed room one in a while and read or write while you busied yourself with one of the many things he gifted you (found laying around in a draw unused for many years) or slept.

In fact he let you get away with a lot like how you’d try everything from retaliating verbally or physically but he’d only respond with a scowl of disapproval or a strong grip around your wrist briefly to remind you just who he was. He knows all about the grieving process having been through it and seen people go through it over and over, so he’d let you grieve over your lost life but doesn’t appreciate when you get really rowdy; bringing you back to earth with tough-love.

...

At some point during the first year of being kidnapped you’d given into harsh-reality, noticing there was no chance of escape as he hears your every foot step, and that even if you did there would be nowhere to go. Seeing you become more obedient encouraged him to soften a bit more, to meet you in the middle, and you let him grow closer after noticing his intentions couldn’t be that bad since he had yet to hurt you or bite you.

There are still arguments, nights where it would all become to much for you and you’d blow up in a emotional rage, demanding you go home or ‘what his intentions are’ and why did it have to be you specifically. So he’d let you hit and shout until you grow tired and your throat sore, wordlessly he’d pull you into his chest where you’d be forced to stay for the next hour. Doesn’t really take anything to heart during these arguments, he knows -at most- a centuries time you will be happy and love him maybe as half as much as he loves you.

Other nights his frustrations get the best of him and he shouts back, demanding ‘you get used to it’ that your friends and family stopped looking for you long ago and he’s all you have now etc. You’d storm away to your bed and he’d sit frustrated in his chair for a while before quietly entering your room and joining you in your bed to hold you and whisper apology’s, making sure you fall into a peaceful sleep before he leaves.

Forced bonding through board and card games!

Of course he sleeps in a coffin, a luxurious one in the room next door to yours, and he wants nothing more than for you to sleep in there with him but wouldn’t bring it up until your inevitable turning where he make you a vampire just like him. You didn’t think he would let you die and leave him to wallow in heart break for the rest of eternity did you?

This man has had so much time on his hands that he’s messed around with most every hobby, most recently (almost a century) he’s taking a liking to the violin. Sometimes he plays while you sleep and no longer around to entertain him (downstairs, as far from your room to not bother you) and sometimes the muted melody wakes you up for a moment or weasels it’s way into the dream you are in. It comforts you a bit, chasing away the eerie silence followed by creaks and scratching of the old manor house that would make sleep harder to come by and even harder to keep.

[dark-frosted-heart]

Roger Barel Main Route - Chapter 7

As usual, can’t guarantee 100% accuracy on this. I’m doing this for archiving purposes and you can probably find a better translation out there.

Roger and I headed to our mission destination by train.

(We’re runaway lovers that wound up at the village after having nowhere to go)

…That’s what Victor’s having us pretend to be to hide our identities.

--

Roger: Because everyone in this village welcomed us so warmly, I was able to save my beloved girlfriend from starvation.

(What’s with the sudden change in speech and refreshing smile? Who are you?)*

Though relieved that we safely made our way into the village, I was thrown off by Roger’s sudden transformation.

Roger: Kate, we will happily settle in this village.

Kate: Y-yes. Let’s be happy here, R-Roger.

Roger kissed my cheek, making my fake smile even more awkward.

However, Roger’s convincing performance was a success and the villagers welcomed us with open arms, serving us welcoming meals one after another.

Woman of the village: You must have been nervous. You’ll stay safe in this village because our Spirit God gives protection to everything.

Man of the village: Ah, indeed! Those who believe in the Spirit God will be saved as he is the one who can ward off any disease.

Spirit God: …

The villagers beamed at a man sitting in the middle of the room who hadn’t said a word since we arrived.

(...This is the Spirit God)

(He looks around 50 years old? And looks like your average human)

However, as Fairytale Keeper who’s witnessed evil up close, I now understood.

A human’s outward appearance belied evil that dwelled in their heart.

(Even so, it seemed like stories of “disease being warded off” in this village were widely accepted)

(A mere human couldn’t possibly ward off disease. There had to be some kind of trick—)

Kate: Hm?

I felt a tug on my skirt and turned to see a little girl that looked around five years old standing there with a smile.

Blonde child: Is id nummy?

(Huh…her speech…? Maybe it’s because she’s still young?)

Kate: Yeah, it’s really delicious. Thank you.

When I thanked her, the girl smiled back happily.

This village was very peaceful and full of smiles.

It felt like a utopia where all things scary were removed.

—Unfortunately, there was no such thing in this world.

(Something’s up with this village)

--

Sometime after being welcomed by everyone, Roger and I finally found ourselves alone.

Roger: This village’s so fishy it’s laughable.

Kate: Yeah, I thought so too. This village…there’s something going on.

The Spirit God’s existence, in addition to some other sense of discomfort that I couldn’t put a name to.

Roger: Let’s hear your point of view first, lil’ lady.

Kate: If what Victor said about an undercover police being killed was true, Then the villagers wouldn’t be as welcoming to newcomers. It wouldn’t have been strange for them to turn us away. But they were all so friendly. While I don’t want to question their generosity, I think…we should keep our guard up.

(Maybe there was something hiding behind all those smiles…)

Roger: Yeah, I was thinking the same. What about you, Liam?

Kate: Huh, Liam?

(That’s right, Liam went ahead of us to gather intelligence…)

I looked around but didn’t see him anywhere.

Kate: Liam, are you hurt or anything? Hungry?  

When I called out to the room, only my voice echoed.

Liam’s voice: Hehe, I’m not hungry or hurt. Also, I’m on the other side.

Kate: Ah, sorry. Huh, how did you know where he was, Roger?

Roger: My ears picked up his heartbeat and presence. So disappearing on me’s useless.

Liam: My power and Roger’s aren’t compatible at all. Let’s move somewhere else.

With Liam concealing the sound of his footsteps, I was completely at a loss.

I followed Roger out to a place a little ways away from the villager’s homes.

The moment we stopped, Liam appeared out of nowhere like magic.

(The power to disappear’s amazing)

Liam: I’ll tell you guys everything I’ve learned about the village in the past few days. In short, this village…or rather, the Spirit God, is bad.

Kate: I thought so. How is he warding off diseases?

The most important thing was the trick that got the villagers to believe in him.

Liam: The trick’s simple. He’s not warding them off, just giving them to non-believers.

(No way…)

Liam: The Spirit God poisons anyone that doesn’t worship him or doubts him. Unaware of this trick, the villagers are deluded into thinking they’re being protected from disease. Hey Roger, have you heard of Gracefield Royal Hospital? The man they call the Spirit God used to be a doctor there.

(Gracefield Royal Hospital…?)

Roger: The hospital’s been around for a while. There’s a lot of brilliant doctors, but a high turnover rate. Useless doctors were shunned and fired.

Kate: You’re pretty knowledgable.

Roger: They left a long time ago and opened their own private practice, but my old man and his “cherished friend” used to be doctors there.

(A cherished friend…)

There was some warmth in Roger’s voice when he said that.

Roger: With this, all that’s left is getting physical evidence…

Liam: Ah, I also found a medicine cabinet. Roger can tell which one’s poison.

Roger: As expected from our cat. Nice job, Liam.

Liam: I’m glad everything went smoothly.

At that moment, Roger’s eyebrows shot up.

Liam: …Hm, what’s wrong Roger?

Roger: …

His eyes peered into the darkness.

Roger: …I can “hear” people coming from all sides.

Kate: Huh?

Roger: Yeah, there’s quite a few people. Is that how the villagers assemble?

Kate: Are we surrounded?!

Roger: Haha, looks like it. Well, we’ll just have to settle this fast.

Apparently Roger intended to take them head-on.

Liam: Yeah, it’ll be fine. Doesn’t matter how many come at us, we won’t lose.

(Liam too!)

Kate: The entire village has roughly 200 people.

Roger: We can take 100 each.

Kate: Are you insane?!

As we continued bickering, I heard footsteps approaching— 

A candle flames floated in the darkness.

Roger: Here they come.

Man of the village: …I knew you were a threat to our village.

Woman of the village: And they have a friend too. Disgusting, how did he even get in.

Liam: I’ve been here the whole time.

(It was as if the peaceful atmosphere they had greeted us with was all a lie)

The villagers’ eyes were cold and I sensed that they were willing to do anything to eliminate any foreign entities within their sandbox.

They were like mindless puppets controlled by the “Spirit God”.

Man of the village: Spirit God, what should we do with them?

Spirit God: Seize them. I will use my abilities to punish traitors.

Roger sneered at those words.

Roger: Ability, huh? If you were a Cursed One, I’d keep you alive as another on my list of precious test subjects… Too bad you’re not. Liam, go nuts. We’ll capture him.

Liam: …Roger that**

As Liam was about to pounce, daggers gleaming in hand—

A scream erupted in the crowd.

(What just happened?!)

When I realized that the girl lying beside the screaming woman was the little blonde girl who talked to me during dinner, I ran toward her.

Kate: Out of the way!

Woman of the village: What, don’t come any closer.

I was pushed back when I desperately tried to reach the girl lying in pain.

Kate: Now is not the time for this!

Woman of the village: If you hadn’t come here, none of this would’ve happened, you disease-carrying demons!

I saw her raise her hand and braced myself for a slap on the cheek.

(...)

Roger: Enough. We had nothing to do with the girl collapsing.

At the sound of his voice, I opened my eyes and saw Roger holding the woman’s wrist.

Thank you

Sorry for acting on impulse

Please help that girl +4 +4

Kate: Roger, please help that girl.

Roger: Yeah, leave her to me.

With Roger’s intimidating aura parted the crowd, allowing us to reach the girl.

Blonde child: …Ugh…

The girl’s body was stiff. Her eyes were wide open and her limbs were twitching. 

Kate: What do we do, Roger?

Roger: Based on her symptoms, it looks like tetanus. It’s a bacterial infection from a wound that affects the nerves. It makes it difficult to open your mouth, and eventually, it causes muscle spasms and paralysis.

Worst case, those infected will have a hard time breathing and die.

Kate: No way…

Roger: Anway, look for any wounds on the girl.

Roger and I examined the girl’s body and found a scratch on her calf.

Roger: …

Child’s mother: Spirit God! Please cure my child’s illness!

Spirit God: …

The man they called the Spirit God started backing away.

Child’s mother: …What’s wrong? Why aren’t you…

Roger: Relying on this guy’s not gonna do anything. He’s not some guy with special powers. He’s just a quack pretending to ward off disease by poisoning people.

Man of the village: That’s impossible! Our Spirit God’s a child of God granted with special powers!

Roger: Then why isn’t he saving this child in pain? Why didn’t you know she had tetanus until it got to this point? A false god can’t cure disease, but proper medicine can treat tetanus.

Spirit God: He’s lying! Tetanus cannot be treated!

At the Spirit God’s desperate cry, Roger looked at him with pity.

Roger: That’s ‘cause the medical knowledge in that brain of yours is outdated. There’s a treatment for tetanus. However, practical use is a miracle and there’s still some room for improvement.

(A treatment’s been discovered…)

Kate: Really, Roger?

Roger: Yeah. Though only the privileged class has access to it and it’s not available to the common citizen at all.

Spirit God: …Hahaha! If it’s not widely available, then it’s the same as saying she can’t be saved! Ah, that’s right. No one in this world can make diseases completely disappear. And yet, you all put your faith in me…It’s your fault for being foolish enough to put your trust in me.

Girl’s mother: …

With one hand, Roger grabbed the Spirit God by the neck.

Spirit God: Urk?!

As he tightened his grip, the Spirit God’s face began to turn red.

Roger: Did you never learn to let people finish talking while you were in your mama’s womb? Sure, treatment for tetanus isn’t widely available. But if you don’t have it, then you make it.

Spirit God: You can’t possibly…

Roger: As a former doctor, I can.

-

*Here, Roger is speaking more politely and softens himself by using boku as his personal pronoun instead of his usual ore. Originally, Kate goes (Boku? [...]) but changes in JP pronouns don’t translate well in English.

**Ok this time didn’t resist using “roger” for 了解.

[madschiavelique]

Cursed Vampire!Miguel O'Hara

Okay so i came back from this tiny pause and idk why but a sudden hit of vampire diaries content has been multiplying all over my medias after i returned fully and ooo boi

vampire miguel

but not any vampire miguel

cursed vampire!miguel

on the 30th of august i did a spell for the blue moon in pisces and i was guided by my witchy friend who reminded me about the 4 elements and their usage in witchcraft : if you want something fast you use fire (candles), something that is a bit less faster and that purifies you use air (incent for instance), something that takes a little longer and that you use to heal you use water (rain, rivers, moon water etc) and if you want to make something to last in time, you use earth (burying something in the earth for instance)

and she punctuated this recall by “which is why curses are most of the time buried in the earth, because it lasts in time”

and I was like

yea cursed vampire miguel

but with a twist

content warnings : mentions of blood, killings, miguel trying to kill himself but failing, general vampire stuff and some personal lore i elaborated word count : 4,6k (not proofread)

Let’s imagine the setting. A little village lost in the middle of nowhere, Miguel being perhaps mayor, or even just chief of the village if we go back enough in time to a point where electricity was still just a thing you could see when lightning was striking in the sky but had no place in your home.

He owns the biggest house, a manor with multiple rooms and multiple people living in it ranging from normal villagers to servants. Is he a member of the aristocracy ? Not so much, let’s say that he was a hard worker in the fields or something that involved him getting them big muscles (lumberjack perhaps, who knows) and that he revolted against a previous higher up that owned the place.

Xina, his lover at the time, was a witch, hiding the village. She had helped Miguel with her magic without him knowing when he made the rebellion happen. See, she was ambitious, and if Miguel could help her reach her goals, then she’d use him to her own profit. But one more thing, she was deeply in love with him.

And he did love her, until one thing happened. Dana, Dana D’Angelo happened.

Xina believed in many things, in spirits, in demons, in deities, but if there was one thing she didn’t believe in was second chances.

And so, she cursed him, for you don’t play with a woman’s heart, even less with a witch's one.

It had been a few days since the symptoms of this curse still unknown to his consciousness had started spreading within his body.

First, the same night she was executing the ritual, he couldn’t sleep well. He felt heavy, and yet his head felt airy like it was full of cotton. He felt feverish, his shaking body boiling one last time before his life would turn to eternal ice. He had weird dreams that night, altering between horrors and his eyes opening to his window, looking at the full moon.

The next day felt odd, he had this sort of dryness that never left his mouth, and no matter how much he passed his tongue on the inside of it or drunk anything, it stayed parched. The difficulty and surprise settled in when he tried to eat his breakfast but his silverware burned him. He ended up taking something that did not necessitate him to cut, an apple, a fruit, something to satiate the sharp hunger that burned in his body.

He didn’t like seeing people much in the morning, but considering how many lived in this place, he’d have to face them some time or later. And the light, the light from outside felt… too bright for his eyes. The chandeliers that were still getting lit up in the corridors didn’t burn his eyes though, so why ?

That night, he couldn’t sleep. The next day, going outside felt like an army of ants were crawling under his skin as he got under the sun, and these tingles lasted all day, until at the end of it the tingles had turned into a slight burning. He didn’t understand, it was winter, and here he was catching sunburns.

And the next day, another symptom added itself to the list. Why did the people surrounding him smelled so good ? Why did he feel like being near anyone gave him the sensation that he had not eaten anything for days and that they were smelling exactly like the one thing he craved for and needed ?

And then he couldn’t see himself any more in the mirrors, and cutlery felt like he was touching hell, and being outside was like being in hell. And when he passed someone that felt so good, why were his nails elongated into claws ? He definitely ruined some curtains at some point because he was trying to retract them.

And… wait, Xina hadn’t been much around lately. Why couldn’t he get a grasp of her ? Why did he never cross her way ? Had she discovered about his affair ?

And then, one night, when the multiple symptoms had added and fixed themselves entirely in Miguel’s body, his entire property started acting weird around him.

He could hear their whispers, their hearts beating in their chests and pumping blood in their entire body, he could smell their singular perfumes from metres away : everything felt as heightened as dull.

More and more people started leaving their place from the manor. They had heard rumours, rumours saying that he was a malfeasant being, that he had organised the rebellion for power and that he intended to turn everyone here slaves to his demonic energy.

Soon enough, only Miguel remained in the manor. He was more and more absent, living as a recluse in his own part of his quarters.

And one night, as someone was banging heavily on his doors, he came downstairs. As he opened them, he saw that the villagers that had been living under the same roof with him for several months were armed, ready to stab or spike him.

Of course, Xina was at the center of the group. Followed what looked like a fight, but Miguel was almost twice bigger than most of them, and ten times stronger, so he massacred most of the rebels against him until the remaining ones decided to leave the village.

Xina came to him, and told him :

"You have grievously offended me by your cheating, and this crime against me is an affront I could not let pass. Hence, I have cursed you."

Miguel tried to attack her, but as his claws tried to dig into her, he was violently pushed away and his back came into contact with a wall, he fell to the ground, remaining seated against it. Xina walked towards him.

"You can't do anything to me," she said, a pale glow glimmering around her as the sort of crystal crisalide that surrounded her faded at the lack of impact against it.

"What have you done to me?" he breathed.

"I told you, I cursed you," she knelt. "I made you a vampyr."

he looks at her, his eyes finally turning red. She smiled. He had heard of these creatures of legend, these stories made to frighten children and the superstitious, but he had never thought that he would become one in his turn.

"You should be happy, I've given you the gift of immortality. I told myself that eternity would be enough time for you to reflect on your actions," she said, tilting her head to one side. "The few friends you have left will die, those around me will die too, and much later it will be my turn to die. But you, you will remain. Children age, lovers perish. Kingdoms are born and burn up, and you, you will go on."

He didn't want eternity. Why want it when you know the world you live in, but did he really have a choice?

"But you see, even in my revenge I will remain merciful. I offer you two solutions." she said, raising her hand next to her head to count the options. "The first, you find my curse, and destroy it, which will return you to mortal rank." Hope sprang up in Miguel's now cold mind. "Secondly, you find someone who will love you despite what you are and be prepared to forgive all your faults and misdeeds. However, they won't bring mortality back to you, you'll simply be able to change them into a being just like you, and to live with that person for eternity." She rose to her feet, looking down on him before saying her last words:

"Farewell, Miguel O'Hara. The secret of my curse will be taken to my grave. You were my first and last love. You took hold of my heart and crushed it. If you fail to find my curse, choose well." Choose well.

She left, leaving him alone. Remorse, Regret, Guilt and Anger mingled within him in his grey heart. He was alone.

The first decades and the first century were most complex. First of all, he searched the entire region, every piece of land and stone, for Xina's curse. His first instinct was to go to the room she occupied in the manor house, but she had taken everything she owned with her. He went to his family home, searching every room with great interest. But there was nothing.

He searched the library of his manor for information on witches and their rituals, and the only information he could find was that most curses were buried in the ground.

Days, weeks, months of digging everywhere, and nothing. Strictly nothing. The despair of loneliness overtook him earlier than he thought, and soon enough, he tried to put an end to it.

He tried many times. To make matters worse, all the silver objects he used for everything had been taken away by the villagers. The coup had been prepared, Xina had planned everything so that he would have to live with himself.

Hanging himself was useless, as he could no longer breathe, and the cutlery, which was not made of silver, bent against his skin when he tried to stab himself. All night he tried, and when the time finally came for the sun to rise, he placed himself in full sunlight, telling himself that the tingling would be enough to finish him off.

But nothing, the sun stung his pale skin slightly, but didn't go any further. The sensation was slightly unpleasant, but he wasn't suffering terribly. Trying to stay all day in the sun to try and burn himself was useless, for when night came, his skin healed by itself.

Rage hung in his stomach as much as hunger, but he smelt something so enticing that for a moment he wondered if normal blood was flowing through his veins again and he was alive. A simple passer-by had come too close to the village, and Miguel had let his gnawing desire for something to eat get the better of him, draining all the energomer's blood in just a few seconds.

It didn't take him long to become addicted to the feeling of life that filled him everytime he drank blood. He couldn't live like a human again right? So he would take whatever human life he could find on his path.

He knew of a small village nearby where he could feast. It took him a long time to learn to control his appetite, but it took less to learn that his curse had given him an intoxicating beauty that attracted all those he desired. Another of Xina's cruel tricks, he told himself, people will simply be blinded by my aura, thinking they love me when it's really just cursed desire.

He began methodically, taking the inhabitants back to his manor one by one. The first few times he drank them raw, but soon he got used to not drinking all their blood and making them his reserves. They were intoxicated, he could do whatever he wanted with them, but above all: their blind desire made them immensely loyal. None of them ran away, none of them refused to have their blood drunk, and even if Miguel told them to leave, they were far too pained by the thought and preferred to stay.

When the village was hit by an epidemic of a disease, Miguel went there to dump the few corpses that had not survived his bites, so that his business could pass incognito.

He knew of a town not far away and how difficult it was to house all its inhabitants. He went there, explaining to the mayor that he had recently bought a piece of land not far away with old abandoned houses that could help. "What a generous man," said the mayor, and soon enough much of the overcrowded town found itself reviving the village.

Miguel was an experimentalist in his approach to humans. It was so strange to have to deal with them in this way, not as people like himself, but as prey and how he would go about capturing them.

In particular, he was experimenting with his physical abilities. Some twenty years later, when the village was well established, he was tempted to go to the village pub. He could drink as much as he liked and didn't get drunk, he could carry heavy loads without any problem, and he gave himself over to the desires of the flesh with an excpetional energy that pleased all his partners - although they all complained about his icy body.

A century later, all was well, he had once again continued his trick of taking various villagers to his home and making them his delicacies, but he was doing it more sparingly. Humans became less foolish with time, and soon disappearances became too much of a topic in the village. Miguel was finally suspected, after a series of attempts to pin the blame on other suspects.

The slaughter was terrible, and the bottles of wine he filled with blood in the huge cellar of his manor house multiplied until he no longer had to hunt for a long time.

The company of men had become too boring for him. He had become bitter towards them, finding them profoundly idiotic. So he locked himself away in his books, and only left his manor occasionally to go and get more.

But Miguel was no longer interested in finding a way to end it all, he now wanted to get on with feeding his intellect and perhaps, who knows, one day help humans to make this world a better place and become less stupid.

Fifty years later you arrived. You had fled from a village further afield and found this one, which seemed untouched and empty, just what you needed to live peacefully.

You entered the manor house, and unlike all the other dwellings in the area, this one didn't seem so dilapidated and abandoned. You were convinced that someone was living there as soon as you saw one of the chandeliers lit. You arrived in the library, which was by far the least dusty part of the house, and for good reason - Miguel hardly ever went out of it. You found him sitting in his armchair with a book in his hand.

Miguel was 232 at the time, and had long since forgotten the second chance that Xina had offered him. And now that he was a more mature vampyr who didn't attack everything that moved, he managed to strike up a conversation with you.

He was intrigued that a human had arrived here, it's been a long time since he'd seen one. At first he was bothered that you were disturbing his calm and solitude, and he hesitated to kill you on the spot, just like that, without you having time to wonder what was happening.

But when you explained that you'd run away from your village, he was intrigued. And his interest was further piqued when he learned that the reason you had fled was that you were suspected of practising witchcraft, and therefore should be burnt. You didn't really seem like much of a threat, but then again, Xina didn't seem much of a threat either...

He also noticed that his charms weren't working on you, as you were obviously protected. His trained nose detected garlic in your necklace and bracelet, mixed with other herbs that wouldn't do him any good if he were to come to close to them.

Garlic cleanses, it 'purifies', it's a very good antibiotic like lemon (which repels spiders). Vampyrism would have been considered a blood disease, which in Miguel's eyes was not far from the truth.

Eating garlic purified the bacteria present in the blood and, according to some people, would either turn a vampyr back into a normal person or cause their death. The plague came from miasmas, and strong smells like garlic and spices kept them away, which was a reason in the collective mind for vampyrs to use them as a repelling weapon. These little things wouldn't do him much harm, but their influence was enough for you to not feel his hypnoze.

He agreed to let you stay with him, and went so far as to hunt animals for you and bring you vegetables from his garden so that you could eat properly. Why did he keep you with him when he could no longer stand humans and you could be a danger to him? It's quite simple.

Vampyrs aren't sentimental, the only state that comes close to love or attraction for them is obsession, and it didn't take Miguel long to develop one for you. Second, after so many years of loneliness, sharing some parts of his days with someone felt good. And then there was the fact that you were a witch, and that with a bit of luck you'd be able to help him put an end to his curse.

You started off naively enough, but you were curious about vampyrs and kept asking him questions on the subject:

"Why can't you see yourselves in the mirror?"

He sighs, taking you to a room in the manor where stood an old mirror. He took your arm and placed you with him in the reflection. You could only see your own reflection, and just as you were about to marvel in your shudder, Miguel explains:

"That mirror you see there is made of steel, a material that could be lethal to me, and is a formidable weapon against my kind. I'd advise you not to try and break it to attack me, that would be a serious mistake. Most of the mirrors there were in my time were made of steel, and since then they've started to make..." he led you further into a corridor where there was another mirror, "made of aluminium."

He placed you in front of it again, and this time you could see your reflection in the mirror. He was so tall compared to you, and so powerful... a shiver ran down your spine as your eyes met.

"With fae, they can't see themselves in lead, it's their Achilles heel." he said before letting you go and moving on.

You didn't feel any particular hatred towards vampyrs, more a certain curiosity, and obviously a fright. These creatures had been alive for so long, had seen empires fall, kingdoms be born, wars break out, and they had lived through so much...

Miguel had almost forgotten the need for humans to sleep. Fortunately, there was still one bed for you to occupy: Miguel's.

It was a bit dusty, and you even joked to Miguel that you were surprised it wasn't a coffin. He sighed as he got your bed ready, thinking that if you hoped to make friends in such a mediocre way he'd already regret his decision to keep you.

But that didn't stop him watching over you while you slept.

You seemed so peaceful like that, abandoned to the world of dreams, of your insignificant little life. Your frailty fascinated him. And to think that he himself had once been like that...

Your days were quiet, there weren't many exciting activities. You were used to picking and working all day in your village, but here you had nothing to do.

So you chatted to Miguel, listening to him tell you a bit about his whole life. In 232 years of existence one must have a few amusing anecdotes to tell, don't you think? You spent almost all of your time together, and it wasn't long before you started to have feelings for him.

You were afraid, afraid of what he would think, that he would tell you that "it was to be expected, humans are so easily corrupted. You don't love me, you're simply attracted by the beauty that was given to me to attract you."

But you knew it wasn't that evil charm that had got you, it was him all over. Perhaps you should avoid him? Maybe you should leave...

Miguel had felt the change in you, heard how your heart beat a little faster and stronger when you spoke to him, noticed the change in your attitude, especially when he caught you deep in thought. You were hiding something from him, and he was curious to know what.

One evening, when you'd pretended to go to bed, you came down the stairs, grabbed a few provisions that you'd packed in your basket in the kitchen, and silently walked through the big door. It wrung your heart to leave, but a human and a vampyr are an impossible love story. It was only a few minutes later, as your smell and the presence of your warmth began to disappear, that Miguel looked up from his book and your absence hit him right in the throat.

You trudged along on the muddy ground, the snow falling on your body and chilling you despite your coat. A sound of wind as swift and as a sharp blade on a stone brushed against your ear when Miguel was standing in front of you. You stopped walking, watching the prince of the night who was not afraid of the cold let himself be caressed by the snowflakes. None of them melted on his skin.

"What are you doing?" he asked, even though the question sounded almost like a threat.

"I realised that my humanity would be my undoing soon enough in your presence, and so I chose to leave."

"Why," he questioned as he moved closer to you until you had to tilt your head back in the hope of continuing to look him in the eye.

Your heart raced, "My personal affections towards you have shifted."

"Shifted?" he enquired as his hand gently came to clear the melted flakes from your cheeks, or was it your tears? "How have they shifted?"

"They became... omnipresent."

A slight smile stretched his lips as his fingers passed under your chin

"Tell me about them." an order, a necessity.

"They... they make me feel different." you say as your voice shrivels.

"How different," he says as he leans in and brings his face close to yours.

"Warm, and fuzzy," you whispered, "and make my every thoughts come back to... you."

Your breath catches on his lips, his red eyes never leaving yours.

"Am I the object of your love, mi vida?" His breath was cold, and exuded death.

"Yes, you are," you confirm as your voice cracks.

He came to kiss you, the coolness of his lips even colder than the night, and you shivered as the contrast with your skin and the sensation of passion in his kiss sent tingles to the back of your skull.

In as many years of existence, you're the only one who's managed to make him feel human again, and that's enough for him.

"Let's bring you back inside, alright?" he said as he parted from your lips to lift you up in one fell swoop into his princess arms.

And so your relationship gradually metamorphosed, each day sweeter and more fused than the last, until finally the time came for Miguel to think about making you his eternal bride.

What a vile gift she had given him, to allow him to turn you into such a loathsome, despicable, odious being. This choice was going to deprive you of so many things. From the sunlight going from caress to crush, your appetite capsizing, your inability to sleep again. And he didn't want to deprive you of your life.

He didn't want to turn you into such a monstrosity, but you reassured him, explaining that there was nothing in the world that would make you shy away from being with him. Besides, was a life without him by your side really worth living when you were growing old and he remained eternally young and beautiful?

So, with determination, he finally sank his fangs into your skin and set about turning you into a vampire. He simply let the venom infect your veins without ever, ever drinking your blood.

And your change took place just as his had, over the course of several days. He mopped up your fever, held you close to him when your dreams were strange, got you used to going out in the sun without going too far, and then introduced you to drinking blood. He had forgotten how hungry and powerful a new vampire could be, and seeing you almost empty his entire wine cellar made him shudder: not with regret or disgust, but with euphoria.

Never again would he be alone.

The years went by, and your couple survived every era. The good thing about living forever is that you can always find ways to entertain yourself, and it stays with you over time. You still remember so well, for example, that moment when you swam in that lake moving a poor piece of wood and people nicknamed the legendary creature you had inadvertently created 'the Lochness monster'.

It wasn't until years later, out of curiosity, that Miguel wondered what had become of Xina. And after several months of intensive research around the world, you find her grave.

He had read some of the records of what she had achieved. She had climbed far enough up the social ladder until her decisions were taken seriously by certain governors. But soon enough, when she passed the age of 110 while still looking pretty young for her age, she was accused of witchcraft, and instead of dying at the stake, she stabbed herself in the heart, her relatives burying her here.

The two of you stood by her grave and still insisted on bringing her flowers. But it was as he lowered himself to the ground that Miguel remembered what she'd said: "The secret of my curse will be taken to my grave."

Could it be...

So you both set about digging it all up, digging until you finally found her coffin. You were, after all, creatures of blasphemy, but opening her grave made you hesitate at first. Who knows what spell she might have put on her coffin to ensure that anyone who opened it would be cursed?

But when he opened it and discovered her skeleton, he found nothing.

"You were my first and last love. You grabbed my heart..."

"And you crushed it," he whispered.

He plunged his hand between her empty ribs, until he touched something hard, something that didn't have the texture of bone. He reached for the object, a wooden box sealed with black wax.

"Is it... what I think it is ?" you asked.

He nodded, silent. He wouldn't open it, he'd learned from some of his lessons. With his powerful hand, he crushed the box between his fingers with ease, a cascade of dust mixed with sand, herbs and other objects from the ritual surging through his fingers.

And his body burned with a delicious warmth. The familiarity of the humanity in him completed itself, while for you, too, vitality returned to your veins.

The curse was lifted, and now you could act normally. What a surprise it was when your two bodies touched and the warmth they emanated made you smile. And what a joy it was to be able to eat normally and not get a rash on your skin if you spent too many hours in the sun.

Thus your life ended in peace and love, both of you continuing your lives together peacefully.

[veenus777]

Can I request a Wilbur Soot where the reader and him have been dating for like 8/9 years and in one of tommys mod videos they just spend it on a cute Minecraft date, maybe they have a fake proposal where Wilbur gives reader a diamond and it’s really cute? Feel free to go anyway you want with this!! 🫶🏼🫶🏼

-anon🦋

◜Minecraft Date◞

┊ ᝰ﹕Just Fluff and a little drama, SFW, Reader GN, English from Google translate

┊ ᝰ﹕Thank you very much for your order, it was my first and it made me very happy! I confess that I had to watch some of Tommy's videos to do it, I hope you like it <3

♤ Ever since you and Wilbur started dating a few years ago, you've made a tradition of every Friday being reserved for date nights and it's always worked out well.

♧ Until today when the restaurant called saying there was a problem with reservations which resulted in nowhere to go and that left you feeling discouraged.

♤ Tommy, knowing what happened, decides to invite them to participate in his weird Minecraft mods video.

♧ You end Wilbur up accepting and staying home for game night.

♤ Chaos is the definition of everything, Tommy running and screaming as he is being chased by some horror entity.

♧ While Philza just tries to build his house in peace while being continually hindered by Charlie.

♤ Somewhere between gathering resources and laughing at Tommy getting killed by Chucky, you get the brilliant idea to turn your date night into a Minecraft date.

♧ Wilbur immediately agrees and you look for a village to make your place and everything looks beautiful with rugs and flowers.

♤ However, the peace was short-lived, because as soon as Tommy and Cherlie found out about the idea, they made it their personal mission to destroy your date.

♧ You only turned around for three seconds before being blown to death by a TNT placed by Charlie.

♤ And a war began, on one side you and Wilbur trying to build your meeting and on the other Tommy and Charlie doing everything possible and impossible to ruin it.

♧ And in the middle we had Philza who simply gave up on all of you and went off on his own to create his own house.

♤ They exploded your venue a total of six times before you guys finally gave up and looked for another place for your date.

♧ However, it seemed that Tommy had predicted it since the choice of mod didn't help his goal at all, and every time you had any moment of peace and tranquility it ended with you both being chased by Jason or Frankenstein.

"We're that couple in horror movies that goes out to make out and ends up dying" Wilbur says as his character walks around looking for somewhere safe

"Wow, what a comforting babe" you respond ironically

♤ You decide to dig down to the badrock and build your place there, without the chance of being interrupted by your friends or any mob.

♧ Wilbur decorates the place with plants on the wall and a table in the middle, carpet and flowers everywhere.

♤ He gives you cooked meat and fish and you just sit and talk.

"I'm sorry we can't go on a real date"

"it's not your fault will, and anyway we're having our date now"

"Well but that doesn't stop me from giving you something precious and expensive" he jokes and throws some diamonds to you

"Ohh is that a propose?" You say laughing

"Yes Madam, would you like to spend the rest of your cubical life building houses and mining by my side? I promise you a huge house and all the diamonds in this game" he says in a pompous voice

"Wow it's impossible to deny it my good sir after all this is every person's dream" you respond in the same tone

♧ The conversation doesn't last long before Charlie invades the place.

"I can't believe my eyes! You betrayed me, Wilbur, with that!" Charlie arrives, hitting Will and making a big show of it. "And our children?! Our love was nothing to you?!”

♤ The fight lasted for a good few minutes resulting in the room being broken and everything being blown up, as well as one death for willbur.

♧ The recording didn't last any longer and soon Tommy finished it.

♤ And the rest of the night was just you and Will relaxing on the couch watching some cliché romantic comedy, without any kind of explosions or murderous chases.

.˚｡  💋 .˚｡ 💌

[smoooothoperator]

Beautiful Stranger

01: Way To Fall

Driver! Lando Norris x OC (Lily Barton)

Summer love, strangers to friends to lovers, Greece and Greek mythology references

Words: 3.2k

Warnings: Lando being Lando, crash, injuries

Masterlist

Official playlist

next part

a/n: here you have the fist chapter of my new story! I hope everyone likes it and welcomes my new character Lily

kalimera: good morning

glykiá: sweety

efkharîsto: thank you

🎮

When the summer break arrives, everyone wants to know where the drivers will go. They ask where their vacations will be, if they'll spend time with their families, go to parties or stay at home to do the activities they couldn't do during the first half of the season.

"So? What are you going to do?" Carlos asked me, a glass of God knows what type of drink on his right hand, and his left arm on the back of the long couch. "You'll go with your family somewhere with that big boat?"

"I don't think so, mate" I sighed. "I just don't feel like that. My brother has to take care of two kids, my sister has summer competitions… I'm not in the mood, actually"

"And what are you going to do? Stay in your apartment and play videogames?" he laughed, making me roll my eyes and look away. 

"I don't know, maybe I will do that" I groaned.

"Go somewhere alone" he said, placing the glass on the table and grabbing his phone. "Buy tickets to somewhere far enough of the spotlight and rent an apartment. I bet that would be exciting"

"Yeah, right. That only happens in movies" I scoffed while drinking a little of my beer. 

"And you don't want it to happen to you? Come on, I know you are tired of the dating rumors, of being always on tabloids asking about your love life in summer. You should go somewhere alone, far from the media" he said, patting my back.

Maybe he's right. Maybe I should go to a place where no one knows who I am. Maybe I should grab a map and find a place where I can be on my own.

That's how I ended days after searching for a place where I should go. 

Portofino? No, even if it's a beautiful place there are a lot of tourists and famous people there.

Somewhere in Spain? No… I was there last summer.

France? The Netherlands… no, they would recognize me.

Greece. That country has many islands. Maybe I can go somewhere and stay there all the break. 

There are some islands where communication barely arrives, where you live in a mix of the past and the present and ignore the exterior. Right, that’s what I need. 

I tried to find a good place, somewhere not too difficult to access. I shouldn’t rent a car, right? I have to look like a normal guy that casually has lots of money. No big luxury brands to be seen, no expensive watches or jewelry. I have to look like another tourist that wants to be in a village for a few weeks.

Now… How should I go there? Which place should I go? Not Mykonos, not Rhodes or Santorini. Somewhere in the middle of nowhere. 

“Huh? Where are you going?” Max asked, walking behind me and watching the screen of my laptop. “Greece?”

“I want to go alone” I sighed, rubbing my forehead and looking at the screen, the list of all the islands of Greece were shown in front of me. “But I don’t know where to go”

I saw Max sitting next to me, looking at the screen and  reading it. I searched in Wikipedia the list of islands just to know the name of them. But then the population was next to the names.

“Tell me a number between 1 and 144” he said, taking the laptop away from me.

“What?” I frowned looking at him. “Mate, it’s not a game, come on…”

“I’m helping you decide where you’ll go. So tell me a number” he frowned.

“God… Okay…” I sighed, closing my eyes and thinking of a number. “32?”

“Well, now you’ll go to Parga” he said.

I sighed. That was easy. It was too easy, and I didn't like it. I needed a place to get lost, my mind wanted to be in somewhere where neither my best friend knew where I was.

"But…" I sighed while brushing my hair with my hand. 

"I won't tell anyone" he sighed. "Lando, mate… you need it. I understand. Now with those rumors about you saying things you never said and the girls they say you are dating, you need to be somewhere away from the problems"

I look at him and nod. He's right, of course he's right. Carlos and him know me, they know how bad the hate affects me and how it makes me feel. 

"I'll go to that place" I sighed nodding. "But promise me you won't tell anyone"

🖌️

The started great. Everyone in the village started their routine as always, going to their boats, opening their restaurants and starting to cook. The streets smell of food, the women making their traditional dishes just to serve the tourists that came here, kids running and playing on the streets with their friends and the old people talking on the door of their houses.

"Kalimera, Nora" I smiled at the woman that was preparing some breakfast.

"Oh, Lily" she smiled, kissing my cheek. "Today we have a reservation. Someone will come to one of the apartments"

"Oh, really? At what time?" I asked, serving myself a cup of coffee. 

"Don't worry about it, Dorien will take care of it" she smiled. "He works for me, glykiá. You can go do your work"

I smile and nod, taking a deep breath and looking at her.

Nora Makris, owner of some of the apartments here in Parga. The day I came she adopted me as one of her kids, taking care of me and helping me with everything I needed. 

"What are you going to do today?" she asked, putting a plate of fruit in front of me.

"I think I'll work for a while at the cafeteria and then I'll go to the beach" I smiled at her.

Life here is easy: you wake up, get dressed always with a bikini under the clothes, work for a while and then go to the beach. Do you need more money? You can guide the tourists and help them with everything they need and translate things from the local people. 

Three years ago I came with the idea of escape from my life, needing a place to disconnect and forget about my past. And thanks to Nora now I have a place to call home. Working in the cafeteria is always fun. The villagers come and teach me some of their traditions, they teach me their language and how to live like them.

After I finished my breakfast I started to help Nora, making coffee or baking things. I know everyone in this place, so I greet them with their name and make their favorite things the way they like.

"Kalimera, Lily" they smile when I arrive at their table, complimenting my coffee or my outfit.

Everybody wants to know about me. Why would a young woman come here alone for a trip and stay longer than expected? They say I'm mysterious, that I'm a gift from the gods. Maybe that's why they treat me like I was born there, not asking about my origins or about my life, only accepting that I'm one of them.

The morning went quick, the same routine as always. The upstairs neighbor wanted a coffee with a plate of mixed fruit, the old lady that lives two doors away wanted her morning tea with one of the pastries of the day, the mother that lives with her two kids wanted her usual morning coffee and a toast with avocado and cream cheese. Everyone has their story here, and that's what I love about this place. 

"Lily, you can leave now" Nora said walking towards me. "I'll for a while for the lunch time and them I'll start preparing some dishes for whoever wants to come"

I nodded and smiled, grabbing my bag and taking off my apron, leaving it on the hanger that is next to the backdoor.

I went to my apartment, going upstairs and opening the door. I have to get changed and make something for lunch, something quick and easy so I can go to the beach soon.

Everything was going great. I was listening to music while cooking, singing on top of it and moving around. Cutting tomatoes, making some bread and making chicken to make a gyro. 

I heard noises in the apartment next to mine, like someone talking in English and opening and closing doors, even someone talking dirty English. Walls here are thin, but I won't complain. I prefer having thin walls rather than not having anything.

When I finished making my lunch I grabbed my laptop and went to the balcony, eating everything while watching a show.

"That's Peaky Blinders?" I heard a voice from the other balcony.

I stopped the episode and frowned, looking at the tall wall that separated both balconies. I can't see the face of the person that talks to me, I only can hear him.

"Eh… yeah" I nod, blushing. "How do you know?"

"The accent and that they are always saying Thomas Shelby" he chuckled. "It's a great show"

"Yeah it is" I nodded, smiling. "It's the second time I watch it"

"That's nice" he said, and then silence again.

I continued watching the show, but it was awkward. Nora should have told me that the tourist was going to be my neighbor, that we were going to share walls.

The rest of the lunch time was relaxed. After I finished the lunch I laid on the couch to watch a little more of the show while packing my beach bag and getting changed to go there.

The beach here is some streets away, and on the way to it there are many stores to get the attention of the tourists: souvenirs, ice cream shops, things for the beach, even swimwear and sandals shops.

I grabbed my earphones and started playing some soft music after getting out of the apartment, locking the door and putting the keys on the bag. 

I started my way to the beach, smiling at some people that recognized me and even stopping to talk with some of them. The old women always have something to talk about, even some of them try to make me date their grandsons.

"They would settle down with someone like you" they use to say. "You are so responsible and down on Earth!"

It always makes me laugh. I'm mysterious to them, no one knows why I came, only Nora. 

I kept walking down the street, hearing music that now wasn't as soft as before. It was some type of rock, making me not hear my surroundings.

Making me not hear the scooter that was driving straight towards me.

"Stop!" the guy screamed, but it was too late for him to break and for me to jump back. "Shit!"

I fell to the floor. It was so fast, making me fall hard. I could feel blood in the plan of my hands and my knees, even a sharp pain on my ankle.

"Shit, are you okay?" he gasped, leaving the scooter on the floor and kneeling in front of me.

"What the hell?" I groaned, but I immediately moaned in pain. "Just pay attention to the road!"

"I did! You were the one that wasn't paying attention!" he exclaimed and it made me gasp, looking at him.

"It's you" I frown, recognizing the voice.

"Me?" he frowned, nervous. "What? You know who I am?"

He looked around, searching for someone or something. I could feel how anxious he was feeling right now.

"Shit, do you know who I am" he groaned.

"Yeah, my neighbor" I said, looking at him. 

"What?" he mumbled, frowning. "Oh, you are the one that is watching Peaky Blinders… yeah, sorry"

I frown and look around. Was he searching for someone? No one was around, at this time people are already on the beach or working on their shops.

"Shit, you can walk, right?" he sighed, helping me to get up.

"Yeah… no" I groaned when I stood on my feet. "No, I think I hurt my ankle"

"Ah shit" he sighed. "Is there somewhere I can take you? Like… a medical center?"

"Yeah" I sigh, leaning on him since he was holding me to not stand on my ankle. 

"Get on the scooter" he said, holding it and sitting on it, looking at me.

"What? No! You just crashed on me with it! I won't get on it!" I exclaimed, but the pain was worse than my own pride.

"I'll help you, okay? And I'll go slow and pay attention to every corner. Now, please, get on the scooter" he sighed.

I look at him and then at the back of his seat, where I'm supposed to sit. I have to get close to him to fit, wrap my arms on his waist and hold him. God, it will be really awkward.

"Come on" he hurried me.

I sighed, grabbing my bag from the ground and hanging it on my shoulder, standing on my good leg while I watched how he was offering me his hand to hold it. I looked at the palm of my hand, gow scratched and bloody it was, then at my knee. I’m surely going to get his shirt dirty with my blood.

“But the blood…” I sighed looking at his hand.

“I really don’t care, come on” he sighed, moving his hand to hold mine helping me get on the scooter. “It’s just blood, I can wash it away. And if you don’t look that ankle it will get worse”

I sigh and nod, getting on the scooter in a really uncomfortable way. He doesn’t have a spare helmet, so he took his helmet off and put it on my head. He didn’t start the engine, making me believe the vehicle was broken.

“Wrap your arms around me” he said looking back at me. 

“What? No!” I exclaimed, raising up my  hands, trying to not touch him.

“You’ll fall if you don’t do that!” he sighed, and grabbed both of my hands wrapping my arms around his waist making me blush hard.

This guy has really a strong rizz, he didn’t even flinch when I placed my hands on his abdomen, the dry blood getting on his shirt and my fingers feeling the line of his abs. 

I tried to not blush, looking away and making sure he couldn’t see me through the mirrors. He smells good too, I wonder what type of perfume he’s using. And his curls are so good made, just on top of his head and on his sides is kinda shorty.

“It’s on this way, right?” he asked me, pointing to a signal that had a cross on it. “It’s in greek”

“Yeah, it's that way” I said nodding.

He parked the scooter in front of the door of the medical center, getting off of it after holding it with the stand. He took off the helmet from my head and then hung it on the handlebar. 

“Do you need help?” he asked, looking at me.

Now I can see his eyes, his face. Well, he's cute. 

“I think so, yeah” I sighed after trying to get out of the seat, but it was impossible.

He helped me, holding my arm and then he turned around. He wanted to carry me on his back? Can this be more awkward than it already is and looks? I sighed, sitting with both my legs hanging on the side of the scooter and looking at his back.

I hope no one is around. Because it’ll be the talk of the town.

🎮

I felt bad. Really, really bad. The moment she recognized me I panicked, thinking that she recognized me because of who I was, not because of my voice. She’s the girl next door that when I walked inside the apartment Max rented for me was playing music while cooking. I heard her voice and then I heard the dialogues of the show I watched not long ago.

Her voice was soft, like velvet, and when she talked to me after I crashed into her, her mad voice made me remember Yuki. She was panicking and in pain, andI could feel how nervous she was while we had the ride on the scooter.

When we arrived at the medical center and I carried her inside of it she started talking in greek, making me impressed. She speaks perfect english and a perfect greek, where is she from?

“I have a sprained ankle” she sighed looking at me.

The moment the nurse saw her when we walked inside the local she guided us to a room, so I placed her on the hospital bed and sat next to her on a chair. I’m not an idiot, I know that it’s my fault and I should take care of what happened.

“Oh…” I frowned, looking at how the nurse was rolling a bandage around her right foot. “I’m sorry, it’s my fault”

She sighed and looked away. I still can feel how  uncomfortable she is. 

“I’ll pay for the medicines you have to take” I said, and she turned her head quickly at me, surprised. 

“No, don’t worry about it! I can pay for them” she frowned, like if she was offended that I was offering to pay for the medicines. 

She sighed and looked away again, crossing her arms in front of her chest and looking out through the window. I bet she wanted to be on the beach, she was wearing a bikini under her summer dress, and on her bag there was a towel and a book too. 

“It’s the least I can do, I ruined your day” I sighed, shrugging my shoulders. 

The nurse looked at us and said something that made her blush. I wonder what she said.

“Okay” the girl sighed. “Yeah, okay”

I smiled weakly and nodded at the nurse, watching how she got up to grab something. I grabbed my phone and sighed, searching the dictionary I downloaded.

“How do you say thank you in greek?” I asked the girl, frowning, then I heard her chuckle.

“Efkharîsto” she said chuckling softly. “You came to Greece with no idea of how to say the basic things to survive here?”

“I survive thanks to a dictionary” I said sighing. 

“Well, let me tell you that it’s useless” she laughed. “You should learn the basic words, just to not waste time searching them”

“What’s your name?” I asked her suddenly, looking at her and how her face changed.  “I crashed into you, at least let me know the name of my first victim”

“Your first victim? I feel honored” she laughed, making me laugh. Good, the tension is now less present here. “Lily”

“That doesn’t sound Greek at all” I frowned, looking at her surprised.

“That’s because I’m not from here” she said shrugging her shoulders. “And what’s your name? In case I have to demand you, you know”

“Oh…” I laugh, but my mind immediately started to panic. Should I tell her my name? What if she discovers who I am? “Logan” lie.

“Well… nice to meet you in a bad way, Logan” she nodded.

Well done, Lando.

taglist

@lestappenloverr @racinggirl @roni-midnights @livster @kakorrhaphiphobia @starkeyellow @celestialpierre @ophcelia @msliz @lorarri @ironmaiden1313 @imsorare @mycenterfold

[bubuslutty]

cod word vomit

title: the bear in the witch's hut.

pairing: witch fem!reader x captain John price

word count: 1k

a/n: I had to write this out or I'll throw up. I'm so in love with this man it's actually so fucking pathetic. he should spit in my mouth and make me his already.

fantasy/medieval au where the British island is at war and most of the neighbouring countries are at war with each other.

Not only human lives are used for the pursuit of power, but also animals, magical creatures, mages, and anything in between, soiling the earth in vain.

This has been going on for years, and hope seems to be lost year by year, more people are dying of disease, curses and hunger, or straight out killed by enemies.

Everything seems almost lost when a woman rises amidst hopeless war generals and kings, demanding she would create her own unit, to find a solution to these massacres.

That was Kate Laswell.

Along the way she collects a bunch of unique people, making it their own mission to do the impossible, stop the war, at all costs, by any means necessary.

John Price was the captain, the leading man of their unit, and the man who trusted Laswell to guide them, and who also trusted him in exchange. The man has been in the army for gods knows how long. The war started a couple of years after he was born, so he pretty much lived his whole life in the middle of the said war.

John couldn’t sit and watch people he knew and loved get killed and families getting ripped apart, so he enlisted as soon as he was of age, leaving to war and leaving his sick father and weeping mum behind.

The man has seen and been through a lot. He has been through so much and yet he hasn’t given up, yet. And to keep him going, he was granted leave once in a while, to visit his dad and mum back on their farm. And then one day, the village nearby gets attacked while John is at home, with his parents, and he gets his sword and goes down to help.

Enemy troops are out there, out for blood. And no matter how many soldiers John slays, they keep coming, and he realises he’s outnumbered, they’re outnumbered, him and the few men and women who can still walk on both feet and carry the weight of metal on wooden handles.

Then like an answered prayer, rhythmic gallops shake the ground. A hot gust of wind hits John on the face, making him hold his breath and lock eyes with her.

A witch on a high dark horse, eyes and hands glowing as the soldiers around them start to burn alive. Of course, she wasn’t the only one, there were more witches that came out of nowhere to defend the village from the enemy troops. But John couldn’t give less of a fuck about any other witch but the one who jumped down her horse, no a trace of fear in her face and teeth bared as she burns her enemies without even touching them.

And John is soooo royally fucked, his eyes are stuck on her face, and everything is happening in slow motion in his head, that is until he notices a soldier running behind her, sword in hand, and he reacts in half a second and sticks his sword in the man’s throat, right over her shoulder. And oh, her eyes are so much prettier up close.

Things happen, and a couple of leaves later, he ends up getting married under a sessile oak tree to the witch he never thought he would love so fast and so deeply. His mum is at his side, his dad is buried down at the cemetery, and a neighbour was kind enough to marry them off and Kyle, or Gaz, was there as a witness. And it is so far, John’s happiest day in his life.

However, war was still happening and John was needed to lead soldiers for country and Queen. So he was more gone than present, but his dear witch understood and never made him feel guilty for being needed elsewhere other than her side or his mother’s. After all, she too has a job to do and it’s to protect their village and the innocent and vulnerable.

This goes on for about a year until the witch had enough and decides to pack up and leave, but without making sure John’s mum was somewhere safe. Nothing improved and things were getting worse and worse, no matter how hard she tried, and no matter how hard the witches tried their best to heal, to rebuild, to protect, it was not nearly enough.

She travels day and night, on her trusty horse, and crosses rivers, forests, and mountains to reach John’s current base. And fate was on her side because when she arrived, they only arrived two days ago back from a mission. John was shocked at first, immediately assuming the worst, maybe the whole village burned down, maybe the farm was attacked and they got his mum, maybe-

His dearest reassures him, telling him everything is fine, as fine as anything could be in war at least. And John kisses her like he doesn’t need to breathe, and then he realises with a shudder that everything is about to change with the arrival of his wife. What’s not going to change is the snickers and annoying teasing of his men, now worse that they get to actually meet the woman who so easily wrapped him around her finger.

Hope and determination swell in his chest now that his love is by his side. And she proves herself to be a great asset already because as soon as she notices the ugly bash on Soap’s forehead, she corners him and fixes him up with a whisper and a caress of her hand.

John feels stronger, more focused and more relaxed, his shoulders tensing less every time he hears her voice or sees her walk by, busying herself around the base. But he also feels more anxious, and the responsibility gets heavier on his shoulders, because not only he has to watch out for his men, but also for the love of his life. He can’t fail her. He’ll do anything in his power to get her the future she wants, a humble home, a piece of land and little feet running around, screams and laughs bouncing off the walls, calling for their momma and daddy.

if u want more do reblog with a comment or tags, or send an ask.

tag list (pls ask to be added or removed): @obiwankenobis-lap @goapgrim @smalldemonlover @silviafantin15 @bobastayhigh  

[mariacallous]

The far-right violence against foreigners in the United Kingdom these days strongly reminds me of a novel published in the 1980s: J.M. Coetzee’s Waiting for the Barbarians.

Coetzee, a South African novelist who won the Nobel Prize in literature in 2003, describes in this slim volume exactly why and how this kind of violence erupts: because communities have been drip-fed lies and racial prejudices for a long time, until they form an image of strangers—in this novel, the barbarian nomadic tribes—that has very little to do anymore with reality.

The central character in Waiting for the Barbarians, which Philip Glass turned into an opera in 2005, is a middle-aged magistrate who has been running a sleepy border settlement of an unnamed Empire for years. Nothing ever happens in the village or in neighboring towns and villages. Everyone knows everyone. The subjects of the Empire and the barbarians living on the other side of the border, which is totally porous, have bent the rules so that everyone can go about their business without bothering others. The barbarians come to the village for food and medicine and go home afterward.

The magistrate must implement the rules of the Empire but tries to do this in a human, benign-ish way. When there is an occasional cattle raid, for example, he has a serious talk with those who did it. He hardly ever takes prisoners, and when he does, they are fed, kept clean, and often released early: “All my life I have believed in civilized behaviour.” In his view, conflicts do not benefit anyone and should be avoided. All is certainly not perfect, but it keeps the peace. The communities live more or less quietly side by side.

Then, one day, a delegation from the Empire’s secret service (the “Third Bureau”), led by Colonel Joll, visits the village. Joll, an unbending bureaucrat, is convinced that the nomad tribes are secretly preparing an attack on the Empire. He leads an expedition in search of rebels and radicals and comes back to the settlement with many suspects in chains. They are terrified. Suddenly, the prison is full. The inmates are humiliated, starved, and tortured. The magistrate tries to stop this (“These are fishermen, not rebels!”), but Colonel Joll sidelines him and continues to torture the barbarians until all “confess.”

After the colonel’s departure, the magistrate feeds the prisoners and sends most of them home. One of them is a nomad girl. He tends to her wounds, washes her feet, and sleeps with her. Eventually, he brings her all the way back to her tribe. When he returns home after the long journey, Joll is back. He has the magistrate charged with treason—“consorting with the enemy”—and throws him in the same jail where the barbarians are kept.

No one comes to the magistrate’s rescue. Many villagers have become as hysterical as the colonel, and the rest are lying low. By now, every barbarian seems like a terrorist to them. Any behavior that was once normal has become suspect. Eventually, of course, the village just destroys itself—without a single barbarian going on the attack. The settlement is a ruin. Most people have left, including the colonel and his people. The magistrate stays: He has nowhere to go. As a bitter winter cold sets in, he feels stupid, “like a man who lost his way long ago but presses on along a road that may lead nowhere.”

Although the novel was published in 1980, it has stark relevance for our times. Coetzee, whose Empire of course depicted South Africa under apartheid, shows how easy it is for a few zealots to turn communities that have long managed to live in peace against one another. All they need to do is to plant false, scary rumors about a particular group; embed them in a larger narrative about sovereignty, nationhood, and security; and then start pumping that narrative around. If citizens are scared enough, they are willing to believe it all. As Hermann Göring, the architect of Adolf Hitler’s Nazi police state, said when he was asked how he got the German people to accept Nazism: “The people can always be brought to the bidding of the leaders. That is easy. All you have to do is tell them they are being attacked and denounce the pacifists for lack of patriotism and exposing the country to danger.”

With this grim novel, Coetzee issued a strong, principled condemnation of South Africa’s apartheid regime, then still in full swing. (He immigrated to Australia later, in 2002.) Its relevance for today’s “far-right thuggery” in the U.K., as Prime Minister Keith Starmer put it last weekend, is no less clear. When far-right politicians fan the flames of racial and religious hatred for years, amplified by social media and newspapers calling migrants and asylum-seekers criminals, at some point Muslim communities and mosques will be targeted, asylum centers will be set ablaze, and Nazi salutes will be seen on the street.

In a democracy, words have consequences. A democracy is a political system that must ensure different communities in society do not get at one another’s throats. All communities have different interests. Therefore, there is always some friction between them. Because society is always changing, the balance between the communities is always changing, too. Democracy is meant to help them find a new balance, all the time. This applies to all levels of governance: local, provincial, national, European. Politics, journalism, and other institutions have a role to play in this system—a clear responsibility. Incitement, provocations, the spread of fake news, and the demonization of one community because of skin color or religion mean that they reject that responsibility. These are forms of democratic sabotage.

Coetzee’s message, voiced through the magistrate, is not a happy one. “To the last we will have learned nothing. In all of us, deep down, there seems to be something granite and unteachable.” Still, the magistrate plows on—what else can he do? He may be far from perfect, but he is a good man.

In the words of Coetzee, the real danger in society “always comes from within.” The U.K. is lucky to have a prime minister who seems to understand this.

[mlmxreader]

The Outlaw In Front of You | Arthur Morgan x gn!reader

『••✎••』

↳ ❝ arthur morgan x gn!reader (or male, idrc) “Do we have to meet in a dingy motel in the middle of fucking nowhere?” aftermath of smut, like they’re both putting their clothes on when one of you two realize you only meet in hotels/motels - @mockerycrow ❞

: ̗̀➛ It's a moment of curiosity, a moment of wondering "we've always done this, but why?". Nothing else.

: ̗̀➛ swearing, sexual references

•───────────────★•♛•★──────────────•

Drying yourself off with the towel, you hummed as you thought about your relationship with Arthur; for years, you had been together, and although you didn’t mind the secrecy and the sneaking around, you did have to admit - you were kind of curious as to why he always asked you to meet in inns all the time as opposed to in the houses of your friends or at your own home.

You knew it was safe there, as your friends were all… sympathetic, for lack of a better word, when it came to you and Arthur. There was no way that they would tell bounty hunters where he was, and he knew that.

It was just a little curiosity, you didn’t actually mind it so much; a good, warm bed for the night with a hot meal and the man you cared most about in the world beside you - what could possibly be to complain about?

Plus, admittedly, it usually got you away from the small rural village where you worked and lived. It always gave you a change of scenery for a night - or two, if Arthur had found a good enough excuse to be gone from the gang for so long.

But as you left the bathroom and went back into the main bedroom where Arthur was, you paused at the door frame, leaning against it with your arms crossed over your chest; you watched him as he pulled on his trousers, and when he noticed you there, he looked over, and he smiled. 

“You all good?”

You nodded, running your hand over the soft bite mark on your throat absent-mindedly. “You sure did a number on me, cowpoke.”

Arthur laughed softly, blush across his features as he chewed at the inside of his lip. “I didn’t mean t’be so rough…”

“Oh, I know, don’t worry… plus, I like it when you fuck me and mark me,” you hummed, coming to sit beside him. Gently, you kissed his bare shoulder. “Y’know, I’ve been meaning to ask - do we have to meet in a dingy motel in the middle of fucking nowhere?”

He shrugged, taking a moment to look at you and all the marks he had left across your skin. “No, but… it’s nice to get away, ain’t it? Just us?”

You nodded, licking your lips. “I’m not complaining, mind… I like the fact that we can go somewhere.”

Arthur nodded, daring to softly kiss you. “You said about a museum a few miles back… I ain’t gotta go back to camp for a couple days - said I was trackin’ down a lead… if you wanna go, we can.”

“You? In a museum?” You scoffed, raising a brow. “I didn’t think it was your sorta thing.”

“It ain’t,” he admitted with a shrug, handing you your shirt when he noticed the small bumps up and down your arms. “But… you like ‘em, don’t ya?”

“I do, yeah,” you tugged on the shirt between short, soft kisses. “But I don’t wanna drag you along if you ain’t gonna enjoy it.”

“Ah, don’t worry ‘bout me,” he moved so that he could gently lie you on the bed, straddling your waist as he gently ran his thumb down your jaw. “I ain’t that worried - if you’re gonna like it… we can go.”

“Arthur,” you hummed, hooking your arms around his neck as you smiled. “For a son of a bitch, you sure can be a good damn boyfriend, y’know.”

He smiled, daring to steal another kiss. “Do you wanna go?”

“I do,” you whispered. “And to make it up to you, I’ll buy the first round at the saloon?”

“That sounds great,” he admitted softly. “How’d I get so lucky?”

Arthur wasn’t shy about it. He knew he had found the diamond in the rough with you; he knew that he had found someone who was more than willing to go through every risk and precaution there was to be with an outlaw like him, someone who knew what they were getting into and didn’t mind.

You could keep yourself safe, he had seen that much when you had taken on a pack of wolves who were after a local herd of sheep; he didn’t have any doubts that you could have held your own if bounty hunters were to get in your way.

Sure, he still wanted to protect you, but no more so than anyone else in the world wanted to protect their own partners. He knew he could never introduce you to Dutch or Charles or Lenny or Hosea or Abigail, but that wasn’t your fault in the slightest; you couldn’t change something like that, although he was sure you would have tried if you could. 

With you, it wasn’t like with his other partners; you didn’t try to change him at all. You didn’t try and convince him to leave the only family he had ever known, you didn’t try to turn him into a gentleman.

You were content with Arthur the way he was, although you did keep telling him off for shaving, which never failed to make him laugh. You didn’t tell him to change the way he spoke, to try and take away his strong, thick working class accent.

Never once. You didn’t try to tell him that he had to speak “properly”, or that he had to watch how much he swore. The Arthur you had in front of him was the one you were content with, the one you loved. 

You always made that known to him, that you loved him just as he was; you noticed a few times when you were first together that he often tried to make himself into someone different, and since then, you always felt like you had to tell him - you didn’t want him to be somebody else, you didn’t want him to try and act like somebody else.

You wanted Arthur Morgan.

You didn’t want somebody else, you didn’t want an actor, you wanted the outlaw you had fallen in love with.

The outlaw you adored.

[writing-whump]

At your pace

Isaiah with a hurt hand calls Matthew to pick him up.

Matthew was getting frantic.

It was like Isaiah to disappear for the afternoon or the day. But it wasn't like him not to answer his phone, when he was doing it.

After a pile of unseen messages, calls going straight to voicemail, Matthew was on the edge enough to walk in circles in the living room. What was he supposed to do? Go to the uni and track him by scent or what?

He didn't want to worry Seline just yet. Maybe it would be fine. Worst case, they could use her magic to track him down.

Maybe Matthew was overreacting. Isaiah could take care of himself. Better than any of them. He would not be happy that Matthew was doubting that.

Capable or not, Isaiah had been acting weird lately. Since that weird visit from the wolf that wouldn't even come upstairs, he had been absent from home more, packing more meetings in one day, making more calls. Like he was trying to prove something to himself.

It was just this one week, but Matthew wondered if someone shouldn't speak up about it.

And then this happened.

A sound from his tone got his attention. It was't a message, exactly, but it was from Isaiah. Sharing a location.

Matthew was out the door before he even registered where he was going.

A hole in the middle of freaking nowhere, that's where it was. A train stop at a small village, between the tracks and the field, under a hill. That was where he found him.

Isaiah was lying in the grass, like this was a field trip, long coat sprawled around him. He looked surprisingly calm for that position. Like part of vegetation.

Matthew let the car open, not hearing anyone close by to worry about, sprinting to his pack leader.

"Do they have no benches here? What happened?" he asked as he knelt down next to Isaiah with a frown. The black-haired wolf didn't seem injured, but he was pale in the setting sun.

"Ah, well. Got a little thrown out from the train."

"You did what now?" Matthew hovered his hands over him, but he couldn't smell any blood. Why wasn't Isaiah getting up then? He grabbed him by the shoulder, lifting him up carefully.

Isaiah made a sour face, but went with the movement, grinding his teeth together.

"What hurts?" Matthew said with a grunt, nervous he couldn't see the cause, when something was clearly wrong.

"I'm fine. Sorry you had to-"

"Don't give me that crap," Matthew scowled. "What are you doing so far away from the city anyway?"

"Met some troublemakers at the station...worried for what they would do on the train... that's Seline's train, you know-"

"She doesn't take that train anymore," Matthew said with an eye roll, hooking his arm under Isaiah's elbow to get him up.

"Still a bunch of wolves," Isaiah said, hissing as Matthew dragged him up to his feet. "Dangerous group on a trip."

"Great. And you just had to get involved."

Isaiah gave him a sly half-smile. "They are handled enough. Rolled down shadows, smashed faces."

That was when Matthew noticed Isaiah held his right hand carefully against his side, not moving it one bit. It looked limp and useless.

"What's up with your arm? Why is it not healing?"

Isaiah shook his head as if he didn't want to answer that. He made a step forward, swayed, all his weight immediately going on Matthew who threw his left arm around his shoulder.

"You don't have to do that with me," Matthew said quietly as he slowly led him towards the car. Isaiah tensed at weird moments, stopping and gasping before each step.

"Do what?" Isaiah said with a strained smile, lips held tightly together.

"Don't play tough. I'm not one of your little brothers. I can handle it."

Isaiah let out a shaky breath, looking away. If to hide his expression for the pain or another emotion, Matt wasn't sure.

"Hold on," Matthew said, freeing one hand so he could open the passenger door for Isaiah, sliding him in. The sun slowly set, basking the car and the station in bloody red hues.

Isaiah sat down obediently but kept his legs out of the car. He his head against his good palm. His right hand was still pressed to his side uselessly.

Matthew leaned against the door next to him, not sure how to proceed. "Your arm bothering you?" he asked quietly as if it was a secret. Isaiah could be really stubborn when it came to asking for help. How long did he lay there in the grass, not being able to get up on his own, before calling for him?

Isaiah's breathing picked up and he pitched more forward over his knees. Matthew couldn't help planting a hand on his back as if he could hold him in place against whatever he was struggling with.

Matthew was not a patient guy.

He had a short fuse, anger being a comforting emotion to him in its familiarity. While his temper was getting better, he felt a strong urge to shake his best friend to get some answers. Could this be related to his heart again? Was something wrong with his shadow? Was he just being an ass, scaring him?

The red wolf also hated that he couldn't figure out the right thing to say. Isaiah would certainly be able to say just the right thing. Something comforting and coaxing. He always managed to make Matthew voice his concerns and plights, even though Matthew was prideful about them as well.

But there was nothing to do against Isaiah's silence. Matthew felt like, from experience, more prodding would just add more walls, more protests, and more denial. Like with that heart issue that he never managed to convince Isaiah to take seriously.

So Matthew bit his lip, swallowed a growl and tried to be patient. His shadow, however, had different ideas. It sprung up, uninvited, blowing up on the ground around the car. Angry tentacles of shadow.

Isaiah lifted his head to look at him then, something tired and resigned on his face.

"You sure you can't even tell me their names?" Matthew said, pressing his fists together. "I want to kill them so bad for this."

Isaiah made a soft sound. Matthew looked down, realizing only by the expression it was a laugh.

"That's your biggest concern?" Isaiah sounded amused.

"Hey! Of course it is! What else would I-"

Isaiah suddenly pitched forward over his legs with a heave.

Matthew forgot his shadow and his anger that second, grabbing his left arm to steady him as a small gush of watery vomit sprayed from his lips.

"Okay, okay. Wasn't expecting that one," Matthew admitted, taking a fist of Isaiah's coat at his back to hold him upwards as he retched up more liquid. It wasn't much, just two more mouthfuls. Matthew understood now why he didn't want to get into the car. "Did you get concussed or something?"

Isaiah spat on the ground, wincing as he leaned back again. He dragged his left sleeve over his mouth, panting for breath. "No. Sorry. Hurts too much."

Matthew crouched down in front of him, ignoring the small puke puddle. "Can I see that arm now?"

Isaiah's eyebrows pulled together in a pained frown. "Broken. On many spots. It's taking time to heal." He gave Matthew another of those pained smiles, like he was trying to be okay with all his might, when he wasn't. "So many little bones to break in a hand."

Matthew got to his feet so he could put his hand on Isaiah's shoulder. It was still heaving with quick breaths. "Wanna go home to put some ice on it?" Hey, that was an idea of his own that could help. Finally.

Isaiah was quiet again, just panting for breath, looking down. Matthew's skin was crawling from how slow it was going. They could have been on the road a minute after he arrived, could have iced the hand and put Isaiah to bed instead of this awkward eternal little sundown show-

Isaiah suddenly leaned his head forward to press it against Matthew's stomach. His shoulders didn't quite relax, but they were a little less tense. One of his hands went up, hooking two fingers into Matthew's shirt.

Matthew sighed, putting a hand on Isaiah's nape. It was sweaty and over warm, pieces of grass stuck to the collar.

"Can't move my right arm," Isaiah said quietly. That was the most pained his voice sounded until now.

Matthew waited, afraid to move.

"Still- still feel really sick."

Matthew tightened his grip on his shoulder.

"I'm sorry I- I'm going to cause a lot more trouble for you."

Matthew rolled his eyes. Jesus Christ, he so didn't care about that. He rubbed his thump up and down Isaiah's neck, a little stunned how vulnerable the position was. How much Isaiah just gave himself over to him.

He wanted to say something sensitive, but he so didn't know what. That it was okay? That it didn't matter to him?

"Hey, Zaya?"

Isaiah took a shuddering breath. "Yeah?" Like he was bracing himself for bad news.

"Take me with you next time."

Isaiah made a little sound at the back of his throat, somewhere between a sigh and a sob. Matthew held him further, figuring that was maybe the right thing to say.

[specialagentlokitty]

Fili/Kili x sister!reader - unlikely bonds

Hey, I really want to request a Fili + Kili x sister reader however I know there aren’t female dwarfs, so maybe they come across a young elf who is stranded in the middle of nowhere. They take her in and plan to return her to her kind, however along the way they grow very close. Perhaps they never find her family, and so they try and find someone who will take her on however she doesn’t want to leave them. - Anon💜

A/N: italics will be elvish

If there was one thing you had learned being in the middle of nowhere it was not to trust anybody you came across.

So, when a small group of travellers stumbled across you, you were quick to ready your weapon, and they did the same thing.

“By the time you get near me I’ll shoot you all down where you stand.” You sneered.

The tallest of the group raised his hands.

“We mean you no harm, we are just travelling.”

“I do not care, go around.”

“We cant. The passage on the other side of the mountain is full of danger, it is not safe for anybody to go that way.”

You narrowed your eyes a little bit, shooting an arrow at the foot of a blond dwarf who attempted to move closer to you.

“It is not safe for a young elf to be out here in her own either, do you have company?” The taller one asked.

“It is none of your business.”

He smiled a little.

“Perhaps not, but I worry about leaving you behind. Perhaps we can accompany you to the nearest village?”

You stared at him in shock.

“You understand me?”

“Oh very well, I good friend of my taught me the language. Perhaps you know of Lord Elrond?”

You nodded.

“I do, many of the elves do. He was very well known in our small village. Who are you?”

“Where are my manners? I am Gandalf.”

“I see, I recognise your name, and I know of your quest.”

Gandalf smiled to you.

“So will you allow us to escort you safely to a village?”

You had heard stories of the wizard, and of his recent adventure with the dwarves and the halfling.

Though the idea of travelling with dwarfs didn’t appeal to you, you knew it was safer than trying to travel on your own with no map and little food.

So you nodded.

“Yes.”

“Wonderful, let us get aquatinted.”

You realised how much you didn’t get along with dwarves and why elves and dwarves didn’t get along.

While you were clean and organised and polite, they were messy, chaotic and at the best of times rude.

But it was the two younger dwarves who caught you attention, they were nosy of course, but they did their best to respect you and stayed away from you when eating or when you were taking a few moments to relax.

But of course they couldn’t fully stay away, they just wanted to be friends.

“Come on, surely you can tell us something about your village.” Fili said.

“Exactly, what was it like? Where is it?” Kili asked next.

Glancing at the two smaller men next to you, you went back to eating your dinner.

“I cannot tell you where it is, and there is not much to say about it. It was a small village hidden away so we could live in peace.”

“Is it like Rivendell?” Fili asked.

You shook your head.

“Nowhere near as elegant. While Rivendell hides in the mountains, and Mirkwood in the forests, my village preferred between two raging rivers where people could not cross and plants were plenty.”

“Well how did you get there?” Kili asked.

“Leave the lass alone.” Balin scolded.

He gave you a small smile and rounded the two young dwarves away from you so you could eat.

It was like a routine, they would sneak away to join you but eventually get dragged back by one of the others.

And soon enough you grew used to their company, and enjoyed having them around.

Before you knew it you had been travelling with them for a while, and Fili and Kiki had adopted you as their own.

“What if we take you to a nearby elf village and see if one of them can look after you?” Thorin asked.

“The nearest one is too far from your mountain, you needn’t trouble yourself.”

“Do you not wish to return home?” Dwalin asked.

“Of course I do, but my village is long gone, I do not know where my family is. I do not mind travelling with you all.”

“It is nice having somebody to talk to.” Bilbo smiled.

“If we take a detour we may never make it in time.” Fili said.

“Which is why I will carry on travelling with you.”

The dwarves seemed conflicted.

“I don’t understand what the issue is.” Bilbo whispered.

You knelt down next to him.

“It is because compared to many of my kind I am young, not quite an adult, not quite a child. They do not want to travel with somebody so young, even though I am in fact around the same age as most of them.”

Bilbo nodded a little bit.

“It’s just not safe, we don’t want to put you in danger.” Kili mumbled.

You smiled at him.

“My brother, I will be okay.”

Thorin looked at you.

“When we pass the next town we will find somebody there to take you in for the meantime.”

You sighed.

You couldn’t protest with the dwarf king, it was not your place.

So you simply accepted it and made the most of the time you had with the group.

Stopping at a town, Thorin began going from door to door, asking people if they would be willing to house you.

“You will stay here where you will be safe.” Fili said.

You narrowed your eyes.

“I will follow you.”

“You can’t, Thorin as spoken. You are to stay here (Y/N).” Fili sighed.

You shook your head.

“Yes he may have spoken about me travelling with you, but not about me travelling alone.”

Kili grinned a little.

“She has a point, he never said she wasn’t able to travel by herself. Perhaps she just happens to be going the same way.”

“You know he will disapprove!” Fili hissed.

“He would never see me!” You whispered.

Fili looked at you.

“Do not encourage this!”

You frowned a little.

“I do not want to leave you to do this alone…”

The dwarf sighed, sitting next to you but the fountain.

“I know, we do not want to leave you either, but this was we can assure you are safe.”

You glanced at him.

“I cannot assure you are safe though, so I must come with you. Perhaps I will never find my family again, perhaps I will, but you two have become my family, and I cannot let you leave like I did the others.”

You stood up, looking at them both.

“Whether you go with or without me, I will still follow you there. I will make my way to that mountain myself if I must.”

They both smiled at you, getting up to hug you, and you hugged them back tightly.

“We will talk Thorin around.” Fili whispered.

Because truth be told, they would stay if you couldn’t go with them.

You were their best friend, their sister, and they needed to make sure that you were okay as well

[flowercrowngods]

just a teeny tiny little wintering kid fic thing for @cxwzkeys featuring transmasc!eddie/steve/johnny (that punk from family video) ❄️

Babies are the most punk rock thing to exist. Well, according to Eddie, they’re the most metal thing ever, but Eddie can’t be right about everything. They had lengthy arguments about it — lengthy only because they were busy laughing and kicking and fighting dirty about it (read: Steve distracted them both with kisses and scalp massages).

Secretly, Johnny decided that Val is their metal baby and Sue is their punkrock baby. Valerie Amalia Munson, born into the world during a glorious summer storm and crying her lungs out. “Most metal ever,” Eddie had breathed, exhausted and sweaty and so, so warm after giving birth to their babygirl.

And Johnny let’s them have it.

But Sue? Suzie Joanne? With her wild, blonde mane that Johnny likes to pretend to spike up into a mohawk? Oh, she’s his little punkrock baby, alright. Especially with that little pointy hat she’s wearing right now, sleeping soundly in her papa Steve’s arms while he caresses chubby red cheek whispering nonsensical promises to her sleeping form. It never fails to make Johnny smile, even as Joyce has him wrapped up in a conversation about… something. He’s not listening. Not when that’s his babygirl sleeping so soundly in the arms he knows can make anyone feel safe.

Joyce stops talking and follows his eyes, her hand coming up to Johnny’s forearm as she strokes him gently, as though she understands and forgives him.

“She’s beautiful,” she says.

“Yeah,” Johnny says. “She is.” Then, remembering where he is, he snaps out of it and looks back at Joyce, who has this awfully gentle look on her face, her eyes almost watery. She knows. She’s a parent, and she knows.

She had two little punkrock babies, too, even though Big and Baby Byers are a lot more normie about it.

He grins at her and motions for her to follow him. “How ‘bout we make some hot chocolate for those two, hm?”

“Oh, you deserve one just as much,” Joyce says, lightly nudging his shoulder as they walk through Steve’s winter holiday home — it should still be a crime that this exists, but Johnny knows how excited his idiot lovers get about snow, so he’ll pause the agenda for two weeks, in the name of stars in Steve’s and Eddie’s eyes. But after that, it is on!

“But I didn’t—“

“Yes, you did,” Joyce says, gathering all the stuff she needs to make her infamous holiday hot chocolate — these should really be capitalised, in his very secret opinion. “You’re doing a lot, all three of you, raising those two wonderful girls. And you’re doing enough. You deserve a treat about it even if you’re not drowning in house and care work, boy, when will you learn that?”

Johnny smiles sheepishly, his hand coming up to rub at the back of his neck, not really comfortable with the easy affection just because.

“Sorry, ma’am. Yes, ma’am.”

“Now that’s what I wanna hear. Come, help me.”

And so he does. They work in silence, the entire situation still so unreal to him. Standing in this lavish kitchen in his big house somewhere in the middle of nowhere as humongous flakes of snow keep falling outside while he can walk around here in socks.

Some part about him wants to be angry about it. But another part is just… calm. Happy. Indulgent.

They get to have this, get to invite Steve’s found family here each year before the rest of Eddie’s and Johnny’s will arrive, too, for two weeks of winter fun.

Two weeks where his little family gets reminded of how big it actually is. It takes a village, they say — and man, they really actually almost got one. It’s insane. He loves them all so much.

The rest are lounging around the fire, with a very mortified-looking Hopper trying not to move as a two-year-old little metal gremlin girl spends her nap time sleeping on his stomach.

Johnny grins as he meets his eyes, saluting to him with too much cheek, knowing it will land him face-first in the snow later, but he doesn’t care as he carefully balances three too-large mugs of hot chocolate in his hands, walking over to his best guys over on bank by the large window.

Steve has stopped whispering things to his little banshee girl and is gently swaying her this way and that instead — Johnny wonders if he’s aware he’s doing it.

He watches for a moment, just to take it on, just to feel again how unreal everything is. Still he can’t help the smile as he steps closer and presses a kiss to the crown of Steve’s head, who hums in affection.

“Need me to take over?” he asks, finishing off with another kiss. “Take her for a while?”

Steve shakes his head, leaning back slightly to look up at him, his head bumping into Johnny’s stomach as he does, earning himself another kiss.

“No, she’s asleep.”

Eddie scoots closer to Steve to make room for him on their bench.

“Come sit with us?” they ask, barely tearing their gaze away from the dancing, tumbling snowflakes outside, their voice just as quiet as Steve’s, just as hushed, just as reverent. It’s the snow, Johnny figures. It’s the snow and their little babygirl.

Johnny hums and leans over to the side, lightly kissing Eddie and brushing his lips to his little girl’s forehead, too. It’s so… magical, having this tiny little human who is already so different from their other tiny human. Most beautiful goddamn thing he’s ever seen, both of them.

“I love you, little punkrock baby,” he whispers, delighted to see she doesn’t even stir. Delighted to see she feels so safe. So calm. That she can just fall sleep anywhere. She’s like her papa Steve.

“I love you, too, you big punkrock baby,” Steve says, bumping his nose into Johnny’s cheek with a smile. “Now come. Rest. While you can, before madame decides she’s jealous of this very delicious smelling hot chocolate you’ve acquired there.”

“Fuck off,” he chuckles, handing over their mugs as he slides in on Eddie’s other side, resting his arms on the window sill and just watching his little family for a bit.

In the end, they make use of the quiet they’ve been given when Eddie leans against Johnny and Steve against Eddie, the three of them falling asleep in a little pile, their baby safe in her papa’s arms.

It’s only when Val comes over an hour later and decides she wants to be part of their cuddle pile, too, that they have to stir and rearrange. She ends up in Johnny’s lap, watching the snow as Eddie tells a story about a Snowflake named Sam.

Johnny pretends not to listen raptly.

[quartzhearted]

Knowing your King's, even if formerly, birthday was an easy enough task. Even out in Lapis's middle of nowhere type village had it been something just about anybody could tell you, and so as the days tick down, getting closer and closer, the date echoes fiercely in her mind.

Giving something to Diamant had been enough of an event to work up to, but given the rocky start Lapis had had with Morion since reuniting in Fódlan? It's even more nerve-wracking to be honest. But when she thinks of Alcryst making it abundantly clear that he wanted to meet her family and be proper to them...

...Well, to be honest, Lapis wanted to do the same for his. And so she vows to herself to push everything before aside and try and do this birthday right!

“ Your Majesty! ”  Lapis greets him, ramrod straight.  “ Um, happy birthday! I gotcha a gift. Hope it works for you. ”

She holds out the modestly wrapped present for him. As a measure of precaution, she explains it:

“ I made you a bunch of different remedies and fit them into a container that should be easy to carry no matter where you go. ”  The box is compact enough to fit into any bag, and inside the box were different compartments to keep its contents divided up cleanly.  “ 'Course, you can use the container for more than just remedies so long as it's small enough, like snacks or coins, but... ”

Though Lapis was known for being crafty, the box wasn't meant to be the star of the gift. 

“ Now that you're back, I'm sure your sons worry the world for you, ”  she admits her motive.  “ And, um, that includes me too now! But a warrior's always gonna go out and fight to protect what they love. No getting around that. So I won't stop you. But I thought if you had different medicines and poultices ready on hand, that'd help make sure you get back home. ”

If she could ease the concerns of her two princes, then all would be well. She knows a warrior's heart as she does a child's, and so she put her all into making sure she made the most effective remedies she could with what herbs and flowers she could find.

“ If you need a guide for what each one does, I'm more than happy to help! I've used them all before myself, so I can vouch for how well they work, mmhm. Shouldn't be any problems there. ”

as if morion's birthday couldn't get any better, lapis comes to him with her own gift---stiff as a board, sure, but she's here! ( he really needs to find a way to get her to relax around him... )

" good to see ya, lapis! " morion smiles, patting her shoulder. " though, really, you can just call me ' morion ' now. ' mister morion ' if you just can't live without the titles, but c'mon! we battled together! " anyone who can hold their own in a chain of battles that intense ( nevermind the absolute WALLOPING she'd given that shade back in the gold round, PHEW! ) is someone morion would gladly be equals with. " but we'll talk about that some other time. what's this, now? "

as lapis explains the purpose of her gift, morion can't help his expression going soft. sure, she's a worrier---make that three that he knows---but she knows a thing or two about morion's heart. acknowledging that he's not just gonna sit around and twiddle his thumbs is encouraging enough, but that she made something to assuage all the worry... goodness. now THERE'S a present.

morion feels warm. " well, now, lapis, that's very kind of you. " he pops open the box for a quick look. sure enough, remedies and poultices of all kinds sit in neat little sections, awaiting their use. " hardheaded as i am, i do get all sorts of nicks and scrapes. lots of times i don't have an elixir handy, and it drives the boys nuts---this is perfect. not just for me, but for them, too. you really do think five steps ahead. "

sigh. he sure is glad his sons have such dependable retainers.

...

...

wait a minute.

" ...whatd'ya mean, ' includes you now too '?? "

[therealvinelle]

Hi! You've talked about how the Cullen lifestyle is unsustainable because of modern technology and social media (totally agree!), but what do you think will happen to normal nomadic vampires? As CCTV becomes more and more common, how will they be able to hunt humans without the secret getting out? What will the Volturi do to protect the secret? Only let vampires hunt in deep wilderness with no technology?

Thoughts on the Volturi re: modern technology

One caveat: for a CCTV recording to be of use to anyone, it has to be viewed. If there is no reason to believe anything happened at a given train station in the middle of nowhere at one in the morning, however, then who's checking it?

Not to mention, there will be spaces that are CCTV free. And, perhaps a no-brainer, but it deserves mention: vampires hunt at night. Darkness -> lower image resolution. Bad for investigators, good for the vampires.

Or, rather, to explain in my favorite way: let's do case studies.

John Doe is taken from a train station

John Doe left his friend's house at nine PM, and walked to the nearby train station. He would have gotten on the train after a ten minute wait, and arrived at the station a fifteen-minute-walk from his home after an hour, and then been at work again at eight the next morning.

Sadly for John, he was stolen away by a vampire shortly after arriving at the station. The CCTV records that he is there one moment, the next he... isn't.

(As I imagine vampires wanting to hunt in subtlety will prefer to kill their victims in the woods, or near lakes- places where hiding the blood and gore is no issue. If you rip a human apart at a train station, you're either a world class cleaner or you've guaranteed yourself attention.)

The CCTV will be checked: it will, however, likely not yield anything useful.

If it does, then the Volturi do have a problem, but that is where the linked post comes in: I think they would keep their heads down, pass out word to the vampire world to BE CAREFUL DAMNIT, because if it's just John Doe seen murdered in this way in an English village and then one Jane Doe in Bangkok two months later, the odds of the cases being connected are miniscule.

In other words, the important thing to the Volturi is that the police don't realize these murders are happening all the time, and if it's just the occasional CCTV capture with no discernible pattern in terms of frequency, location, or victim, then they have time to adjust (and to send word to everyone to BE DISCRETE, FOR GOD'S SAKE.)

Jane Doe is taken from her house

Most people don't have indoor cameras, and if you want to be sure you wait for her in her bathroom.

Jane, taken from her home at an unknown time and with no recording of her being taken, will be investigated but the only aid modern technology can offer is that investigators know when her phone stopped being used or moved that night.

The Volturi are not worried about the Janes of this world.

John Doe is murdered in an alley

The CCTV was on and saw the entire thing, and for argument's sake we'll say the culprit was a careless newborn. Blood and gore galore.

However, who's to say anybody sees the recording? I'm not being obstinate - but for someone to regard hundreds of hours of footage from a place, there has to be a known missing person as well as reason to believe they were taken from X location at roughly Y time.

If John was living alone and no one knew he'd gone out to kebab place A for a late night snack, no one searches the CCTV in that area.

-

My point with all this is, CCTV will be a problem but I don't think vampires are getting revealed overnight either. They will learn new tricks, or rather, be beaten over the heads by the Volturi with "Take people from their homes or else!!".

There will inevitably be recordings, there just won't be all that many of them. And when a recording of a vampire attack does go viral (I do agree it'll happen sooner or later, it's just I'm putting my money on "later"), the Volturi are likely sitting very quietly and not rocking the boat.

After all, should the secret be broken, that's not actually a problem for them. (Post 1 on that, post 2)

[angeldrawsstuffs]

Ok look, whenever I post about the Nutcracker AU, it’s some kind of angst. So, I offer you all some domestic Jaya fluff:

So, after a particularly eventful loop of the story, the squad agrees to take one loop to get some much needed and deserved R&R. So, for the toy trio (Kai, Nya, and Jay), they do the battle scene and just don’t leave the living room area after that. While Kai relaxes with his boyfriend, White (Movie!Zane), Jay and Nya wander off to, for once, explore the rest of the space, since they’ve never really done so in previous loops due to time constraints to progress the story.

Eventually, after poking around a bit, they come across a massive, even by regular human standards, dollhouse. One they can assume was probably made by Dr. Julien (who, for the curse’s sake is filling the role of Drosselmeyer) for White and Echo’s new toys (aka them and Kai), so, out of curiosity, they take a look inside.

It’s a nice dollhouse, definitely. Almost indistinguishable from an actual house, if it weren’t in a giant living room and if they weren’t toys themselves, that is.

Nevertheless they decide to have a peek inside because why not, you know? They find that the inside is just as nice as the outside, once again almost indistinguishable from a human house (if you forget about the fake food and seam line where the house opens up right down the middle, though the house is close up right now so that’s not an issue). The couple ends up hanging around the “kitchen” for a while, and eventually Nya says something…

She mentions that it’s funny how the closest to a normal, domestic life with the other they’re ever going to get is in this dollhouse as toys.

Jay tries to refute this, but ultimately can’t, because Nya is right. They’re likely never going to get something so peaceful in their real lives, at least nowhere in the foreseeable future with how many enemies they have.

So, Jay has an idea: if they’re toys in a dollhouse, why not run with that? How about they play a game of house? If they can’t have a peaceful, domestic life outside of this cursed world, they might as well get a taste of it while they’re here.

Nya loves her dorky boyfriend, so she plays along, taking part in Jay’s proposed game as, of course, a working wife, returning home after a long day to her stay at home husband, who obviously prepared dinner for his beloved!

For the rest of the loop, their game continues, at times breaking character from how silly it all feels in the moment, but it’s nice, especially for Nya, who had to see all too young just how difficult maintaining a home is, even when her and Kai got help from the other adults in the village. To have a fun game where doing all that stuff isn’t so hard, especially with her partner… it’s nice.

FSM, she loves her boyfriend. And if his goofy smile is anything to go by, he feels the same way and more.

So congrats to anyone who actually read all this- somehow I couldn’t condense “Jay and Nya play house in a dollhouse” into less words. Anyway, hope y’all enjoyed the Jaya fluff (or maybe it’s hurt/comfort idk), because there’s not much softer than this for this AU (as of writing this, that is).

Also I might do a comic of this idk, we’ll see if the diverged neurons permit it.