#salary of virtue

[pratchettquotes]

The wages of sin is death but so is the salary of virtue, and at least the evil get to go home early on Fridays.

Terry Pratchett, Witches Abroad

#nanny ogg #witches abroad #discworld #terry pratchett #morals #ethics #morality #wages of sin #good and evil #everyone dies #weekends #salary of virtue #fridays

[manyothermusingsofmine]

Nahyuta: Satorha! Ema: What?! Nahyuta: Detective Skye, self-indulgent outbursts such as those will earn you divine punishment. Ema: Don't care. Nahyuta: In the form of a salary evaluation. Ema: ... Do care.

#incorrect ace attorney quotes #nahyuta sadmadhi #ema skye #actually now that I think about it its actually really fucked up?? #Nahyuta gets there basically on the virtue of -we're fresh out of prosecutors- -ignore Simon- -IGNORE HIM- #BUT?? APPARENTLY?? THAT MEANS HE'S IMMEDIATELY IN CHARGE OF SALARY EVALUATIONS FOR DETECTIVES?? WHILE HE'S TECHNICALLY A TOURIST?? #WHAT THE FUCK

[ketchuppee]

During the 2008 recession, my aunt lost her job. Her, her partner, and my three cousins moved across the country to stay with us while they got back on their feet. My house turned from a family of four to a family of nine overnight, complete with three dogs and five cats between us.

It took a few years for them to get a place of their own, but after a few rentals and apartments, they now own a split level ranch in a town nearby. I’ve lost track of how many coworkers and friends have stayed with them when they were in a tight spot. A mother and son getting out of an abusive relationship, a divorcee trying to stay local for his kids while they work out a custody agreement, you name it. My aunt and uncle knew first hand what that kindness meant, and always find space for someone who needed it, the way my parents had for them.

That same aunt and uncle visited me in [redacted] city last year. They are prolific drinkers, so we spent most of the day bar hopping. As we wandered the city, any time we passed a homeless person, my uncle would pull out a fresh cigarette and ask them if they had a light. Regardless of if they had a lighter on hand or not, he offered them a few bucks in exchange, which he explained to me after was because he felt it would be easier for them to accept in exchange for a service, no matter how small.

I work for a company that produces a lot of fabric waste. Every few weeks, I bring two big black trash bags full of discarded material over to a woman who works down the hall. She distributes them to local churches, quilting clubs, and teachers who can use them for crafts. She’s currently in the process of working with our building to set up a recycling program for the smaller pieces of fabric that are harder to find use for.

One of my best friends gives monthly donations to four or five local organizations. She’s fortunate enough to have a tech job that gives her a good salary, and she knows that a recurring donation is more valuable to a non-profit because they can rely on that money month after month, and can plan ways to stretch that dollar for maximum impact. One of those organizations is a native plant trust, and once she’s out of her apartment complex and in a home with a yard, she has plans to convert it into a haven of local flora.

My partner works for a company that is working to help regulate crypto and hold the current bad actors in the space accountable for their actions. We unfortunately live in a time where technology develops far too fast for bureaucracy to keep up with, but just because people use a technology for ill gain doesn’t mean the technology itself is bad. The blockchain is something that she finds fascinating and powerful, and she is using her degree and her expertise to turn it into a tool for good.

I knew someone who always had a bag of treats in their purse, on the odd chance they came across a stray cat or dog, they had something to offer them.

I follow artists who post about every local election they know of, because they know their platform gives them more reach than the average person, and that they can leverage that platform to encourage people to vote in elections that get less attention, but in many ways have more impact on the direction our country is going to go.

All of this to say, there’s more than one way to do good in the world. Social media leads us to believe that the loudest, the most vocal, the most prolific poster is the most virtuous, but they are only a piece of the puzzle. (And if virtue for virtues sake is your end goal, you’ve already lost, but that’s a different post). Community is built of people leveraging their privileges to help those without them. We need people doing all of those things and more, because no individual can or should do all of it. You would be stretched too thin, your efforts valiant, but less effective in your ambition.

None of this is to encourage inaction. Identify your unique strengths, skills, and privileges, and put them to use. Determine what causes are important to you, and commit to doing what you can to help them. Collective action is how change is made, but don’t forget that we need diversity in actions taken.

#long post #some thoughts I’ve been having

[siryouvegotfrogs]

it should be illegal to post a listing for a starter job without including the salary range

#the intended applicant generally doesn't have the experience to know what salary to expect #by virtue of it being a --starter-- job #looking online can turn up widely different estimates #especially if there is a lot of variance for what the job can entail #what a realistic estimate looks like also depends on the company size and what benefits they offer #in conclusion: just tell me what your range is

[artbyblastweave]

Still playing Skyrim. And I’m interested to report that the game is actually better than I remember, on balance. But I’m kind of fascinated by what’s going on with Lydia, mechanically and narratively.

Lydia is the first follower who gets shoved in your face just by virtue of following the main quest. There are others you can pick up earlier, but not without finishing errands (for Faendal and Sven), by forking up a pretty big chunk of change for the early game by hiring Janessa, or by going out of your way in some other manner. If you’re completely new to the game and you’re just powering through the main story as it’s presented, she’s the first option for a follower that the game highlights for you in giant blinking neon lights. And as a quest reward, she’s mechanically kind of a godsend at that point in the story; a doubling of carry capacity, an excellent meat shield and distraction, a way to extract utility from weapons and armor you don’t want to use yourself. More subjectively she provides the impression of a stalwart ally or companion in what can be a very lonely worldspace to exist in. There’s very little reason not to take her with you, and once you have her, the majority of companions being equal, there’s very little reason to get rid of her until she stops level scaling.

Despite the mechanical utility Lydia provides at a crucial point, and the resultant likelyhood that you’ll haul her along for the ride, she’s only a couple steps up from the companion cube. She has no specific, non-fungible impact on the narrative beyond demonstrating Jarl Balgruuf’s favor. Her deferral to you is automatic; if someone is actively paying her a salary to help you defile graves, cut deals with every deity on the continent and invade the afterlife, it sure as hell isn’t you. It isn’t clear what her gig under Balgruuf was before she was assigned to you. She has no personal narrative. She has no personal side quest. One of her biggest inklings of personality is when she expresses vague dissatisfaction with being treated as a pack mule, but then she does it anyway.  She’s party to world-shaking events and political upheavals, but she’s present purely in her capacity as your appendix, so reality simply treats her as your plus-one. 

She’ll block doors you’re trying to get through, and she’ll get mad at you if you push her out of the way. She’ll charge into battle or set off traps while you’re trying to sneak. She’ll microaggress you with stock Nord dialogue while pulverizing your enemies, a plurality of whom are also Nords. She’ll distract bosses long enough to buy you breathing room for a healing spell or a potion. You’ll kill her by accident with an ill-timed area-of-effect spell, roll your eyes, and, ultimately, probably reload your save. Because she might only be a couple steps up from a companion cube, but the whole gag with the companion cube is how ridiculously low the threshold is for the audience to get genuinely attached to something in a video game. A thin character invites apophenia. Behaviors that are purely downstream of dev thoughtlessness will still imply character traits if taken at Watsonian Face Value. In this case, inexplicable undying loyalty, reserved comments on impressive landmarks, and comical stoicism in the face of some of the weirdest events it’s conceptually possible to encounter.  So here’s to weird, underbaked companions in Bethesda Games, and everything we can project onto the void they provide. And Here’s to that related genus of character- units in squad-based tactics or management-sim games with permadeath mechanics who last long enough and accumulate enough equipment, skill points, etc. that they become your Special Little Guy despite otherwise lacking any deliberate character traits.

#thoughts #meta #skyrim #the elder scrolls #elder scrolls #TES #lydia #skyrim lydia

[matan4il]

Today's update post will be dedicated to the lawsuit that South Africa (SA) submitted to the International Court of Justice (ICJ, the UN's judicial arm), with the discussion held this coming Thursday. I first wrote about it here.

Why is SA suing Israel specifically for the crime of genocide, and not for the easier to prove ('coz it doesn't involve intent) charge of committing war crimes? Well, because Israel has signed the international convention for the prevention of genocide. It actually signed it pretty early on, in 1949. Just 4 years after the end of the Holocaust (it applies to Israel since 1951). What signing this convention means, is that even if Israel isn't committing a genocide, and SA knows it isn't, SA also knows the only way to drag Israel to the ICJ is to accuse it of this crime, so... surprise! SA did.

Curiously, it turns out that the Palestinian Authority (PA) has secretly been helping SA with filing this lawsuit (as reported on Jan 6, on Kan News, source in Hebrew). The PA has a right to sue Israel at the ICJ, but it might be using SA as a proxy, because it is afraid of being sued itself (it can, as an idea, be sued for financially supporting the genocidally motivated actions of Hamas, due to its "pay for slay" program, where the PA pays Palestinians salaries for their terrorist activities, and the pay is greater the more lethal the attack. Because yes, the PA will be paying salaries for the Oct 7 massacre, despite it being carried out by Hamas, the Palestinian Islamic Jihad and other terrorists), and I guess they think the best defense is an offense. Also, by having SA file the lawsuit for them, the PA is making sure another country will be drawing all of the fire for it, such as the condemnation from the US, calling the lawsuit "counterproductive" and "not based on facts," which was issued against SA, not against the PA.

Also, weirdly it seems that the issue of intent, which should make the lawsuit more difficult to prove, is actually what most of the case is based on!? The lawsuit is less about what Israel has been doing, and more about quotes from Israeli officials, that supposedly expose genocidal intent. Many of these quotes are presented in a misleading way, stuff like omitting that the quotes were clearly in reference to obliterating Hamas, presented them instead as if these Israeli officials were talking about obliterating the Palestinians.

So basically, SA is guilty of precisely the first point I was making in this post, conflating Hamas with the Palestinians, but only when it can be used to attack the Jewish state.

I watched an interesting panel held about this subject, and one legal expert said the right thing to do, would be for the ICJ to point out that SA is abusing the court for cynical political purposes, that its lawsuit doesn't meet the minimal requirements to be filed, making it very obvious that they're just weaponizing the court and abusing its power to hound Israel, and for this, the lawsuit should be thrown out immediately, without even getting to trial. Another participant, a former Israeli diplomat to the UN, said that yes, that's what should be done. But this lawsuit will allow the judges to rule on the most burning subject on the global agenda these days, so they won't throw the case out and condemn SA for filing this frivolous lawsuit.

Another panelist suggested that Israel should go on the offense, and point out at the ICJ, that by virtue of SA being financially supported and invested in by Iran, and thus unsurprisingly supporting the Islamist Iranian regime, which is the one that financed Hamas' activity (including the massacre of Oct 7, and the recently exposed attempts to target Jewish institutes in Europe), it's actually SA that is supporting the genocide of the Jews. I doubt this is the line of defense Israel will take, but it's an interesting point to keep in mind.

In conclusion, regarding what this false lawsuit really means:

SA's lawsuit basically seeks to rob the Jewish state of the right to defend its population against a genocidal threat. That is INSANE. It is, in practice, pro-genocide, and insane that it's even entertained.

(for all of my updates and ask replies regarding Israel, click here)

#israel #antisemitism #israeli #israel news #israel under attack #israel under fire #israelunderattack #terrorism #anti terrorism #hamas #antisemitic #antisemites #jews #jew #judaism #jumblr #frumblr #jewish #resources

[botanyshitposts]

Opinion on the US's Cogs damn obsession with corn?

don't know what you're talking about specifically but my understanding of US agricultural policy in general is that being a farmer in capitalism sucks and has since colonization and for a long time the US government tried to make it suck less with subsidies which sometimes work (because people get paid predictably regardless of demand and its less like gambling with crops) but sometimes go over really badly (because then too many people grow it and the price per bushel goes down and then government has too much corn) and then a couple times they got rid of all the subsides and related regulations and that REALLY didnt work (because then the price just crashed hard and with nothing to compensate them a bunch of farmers, many of whom were in debt for other farming-related reasons, couldnt get paid and actually had to foreclose their farms, which accelerated the long-standing trend of farms getting foreclosed on and then being bought out by bigger farms that then ended up running INSANE multi million dollar operations, sometimes even on farms in other states where the owners do not live, in communities they do not contribute to) and they had to backpedal on it and then eventually they just started on the current system where you simply pass a farm bill every 10-12 years instead of yearly or biyearly and that way you simply dont have to think about it, and then when it is election time you go stand by a cornfield for a while for tv. it does not fix the huge enormous farms buying out smaller farms problem or any of the complicated related problems but it DOES put it off for longer which is more important.

sometimes also you (USAID for instance) can give the too-much-corn you have from farm subsidies to a foreign country as a 'gift' and say youre just being a helpful little guy, but in the process of doing so undercut the local farmers in that country because they cant compete with free stuff but that's cool because then the foreign country can't really survive as well without US agricultural aid and you can manipulate them to do imperialism better AND you have more demand for the corn which might raise the price per bushel in the US. also sometimes the corn is fed to livestock en masse because the meat is worth more and sometimes its made into gas or high fructose corn syrup, and sometimes the price is so low per bushel that the insurance on the field is worth more than the actual corn.

but. i CANNOT stress enough that the most important thing about corn is that you can stand next to it on tv and if you cant do that, maybe you can stand next to a guy who is around it a lot and say you are helping him.

in my relatively uneducated opinion the most epic way to solve this complex multi-century interdisciplinary push and pull of supply and demand would be to just pay farmers a salary through the state since youre already paying out massive state subsidies for crops you dont need anyway and the farmers are performing a vital service and that way you can guarantee people a consistent salary AND control how much of each thing gets planted so you dont have a massive stockpile at all times AND you reward individual people instead of paying out large amounts of money to whatever massive operation sells the most corn by virtue of being big, but if you dont want to do that then the second best thing is to just pass another mediocre farm bill whos inflexible 10-ish year lifespan makes it impossible for it to respond well to changes in market demand and that way you can just put off making tough decisions and instead stand next to a guy and a cornfield on tv again. which as we have covered is the most important part of american agriculture

#you know? #(i took an agricultural history class in college. dont remember everything but i remember my overall impression was this) #asks #plont asks

[jymwahuwu]

YOUR YAN! JING YUAN FAKE DATING IS *CHEF KISS💋💋*

Anywayy do you have any thought for yan! Jing yuan and yanqing's tutor reader😋😋

OH MY GOD YANQING IS FALLING BEHIND IN HIS ACADEMIC SCORE? ugh this is what u get from too much sword practice‼️ that's okay tho, daddy Jing Yuan will hire the best tutor for this best boi and the tutor is happen to be you‼️ cuz you reader are the best😍. Hmm? Why is Jing Yuan keep staring at you tho? It makes you uncomfy while teaching Yanqing how to do algebra (or any other subject I hate math smh)‼️Nah don't think to much bout it~ Jing Yuan just wanna make sure Yanqing learn diligently💪🏻 weird, but you didn't even see him bat an eye to Yanqing. Whatever it's not too concerning anyway🤷🏻‍♀️

WOHOOO GREAT YANQING'S SCORE RAISE A FEW NUMBER! GOOD JOB DEAR TUTOR. But it seems like he still struggling to understan a few topics according to Jing Yuan😰🤨 ofc you can help him, but it really is tiring to walk from ur house to his mansion💔💔 Don't worry you can sleep in Jing Yuan's mansion as long as you want‼️‼️‼️Isn't that great? Many would kill just to get his approval🥳

Hmm? How long has it been since you agree to sleep here? A month❓ Two month❓Three❓ Yanqing already on top of his class, why do he need your tutor⁉️ UHM AND WHY IS HE CALLING YOU HIS MOTHER TOO😰 WHY HE SUDDENLY SAID JING YUAN WILL MARRY YOU❓ YOU NEVER AGREE TO THIS DID YOU😰😱‼️‼️

Ofc you'll agree right? Right❓ After all, Jing Yuan doesn't quite like it when there's someone who argue with his decision☹️

TW: yandere, manipulation, forced marriage

Sorry I took so long to reply to this, your emojis are so cute! 😂 Tutor reader☺️😳 There is a lot of potential here, Jing Yuan loves you for being kind to Yanqing. You find this job ad on a job site, and it says the employer will pay for the accommodation. Reasonable salary and conditions! You applied for the job and were taken to…Xianzhou Luofu? Wait, the general's mansion? You meet the child named Yanqing who needs to be taught. You're confused about his relationship with the general - Yanqing looks more like his son than the guard. A somewhat arrogant but polite kid who is eager to prove himself.

General Jing Yuan tells you that you need to teach him [your best subject], and it would be better if you can teach him some virtues and principles. This child did not receive systematic education, and likes to practice swords, so the score is not as good as before😗 At the same time, he also noticed that you are always loving and friendly to children, and gradually attracted to you. In the past, only he and Yanqing practiced swords and played in the mansion, but now your laughter echoes on the grass. Yanqing has an attachment to you now. He even accidentally called you mom in front of him (while you were not there), Jing Yuan immediately corrected him. Yanqing lowered his head in frustration. He began to think about the possibility of you becoming his wife and Yanqing's mother.

Jing Yuan purposely does not send any spaceship to pick you up to the mansion, and you have to take public transportation for more than two hours each time to work. So, when he proposed that you could live in his mansion and said that there are many guest rooms here, you agreed. Jing Yuan arranged the softest luxurious bed (and next door to his room), gorgeous big bathtub and cosmetics. There's even a holographic walk-in closet, you just pick the clothes you want to wear and the system will arrange them for you. You feel a little disturbed, even flattered, by these treatments. You are just a child's tutor, why does the general treat you like a distinguished guest? Jing Yuan is always reassuring you, telling you that's how Xianzhou treats guests, and saying subtle, flirtatious things. You have a vague feeling of being watched while you sleep.

Unconsciously, you have lived in his mansion for more than half a year😊One day, the servants measured the dress for you and asked about the wedding menu you wanted. You were dumbfounded and carefully asked what happened? Oh hey, of course it's yours! You are going to marry the general, just relax and be the bride in Xianzhou.

#yandere hsr #yandere honkai star rail #yandere jing yuan #yandere hsr x reader #yandere jing yuan x reader #honkai x reader #honkai star rail x reader #honkai star rail x you

[shortpplfedup]

Anatomy of a Scene An abdication

Step By Step, Episode 10 Director: Tee Bundit Sintanaparadee Writers: Tan Ekarin Mungmee, Anu Pawich Amnajkasem, Pan Phanita Loetwatthanaphongchai Cast: Ben Bunyapol Likhitamnuayporn (Pat) and Man Trisanu Soranun (Jeng)

I can't let it go, this feeling that the progression from unease to frustration to alarm engendered by this episode is exactly how Tee wanted us to feel, and this scene is the reason I can't let it go. Because after 9 episodes of Jeng doing his best to be The Responsible Adult, he completely abdicates responsibility in this scene. Jeng has been batted about by all the expectations of him and now that he has found some happy solace and a place to rest, he is pretty much unwilling to pick back up the burden of his responsibilities, at the worst possible moment for that. Because in starting a relationship with Pat...Pat who is 10 years younger than him, Pat who works in his family company, Pat who is really just starting his career, Pat who works directly under him, Pat who doesn't come from money and whose livelihood depends on being able to earn a salary, Pat who is in an extremely vulnerable position for all these reasons...in starting that relationship, he needed to assume some responsibility. If nothing else, the responsibility to acknowledge the issues and to discuss and decide together how to handle them. That's where we are in this scene. Pat is now openly asking him to take responsibility for what they've gotten into. Pat's saying things have become untenable. Pat's not asking him to solve the problem for him, but to at least work with him on a plan.

And Jeng bottles it. Spectacularly. First he tries to distract Pat, appealing to his body, using sex to sidestep the issue.

That doesn't work.

Next, he tries to cajole Pat, appealing to his emotions. We can't take a break, I'll miss you too much.

That doesn't work either.

Next he tries to placate Pat, appealing to his brain, proposing a series of unworkable options that don't actually solve the problem. We can just stay away from each other at work. I can find us a secret safehouse. I'll just quit.

Pat demolishes those one by one.

And finally, Jeng just abdicates. He stops trying to appeal to Pat at all. I don't want to talk about this. He lays his head on Pat's chest in a gesture of surrender. He's not dealing with this. He's not taking responsibility.

And Pat just can't understand that, because Jeng is the responsibility guy. He holds this man he's learning to care for, and he looks at him, and he doesn't get it. Because he doesn't actually know Jeng yet, the deepest parts, the parts that are bone weary and utterly fed up of taking responsibility. By refusing to even discuss it, Jeng has put the burden of responsibility on Pat, because this isn't something that can wait for Jeng. Pat's life is falling apart RIGHT NOW, and Jeng has abdicated responsibility for that in his eyes, he's leaving him alone to face the wolves. And Pat's face tells me that he's confused, upset and angry about that.

I LOVE THIS. I LOVE THAT JENG GETS TO BE A PERSON WHO IS MAKING THE WORST DECISIONS RIGHT NOW INSTEAD OF A PARAGON OF VIRTUE. I LOVE THAT HE'S JUST A MAN NOT A COLLECTION OF 'GREEN FLAGS'. I am very personally enjoying Jeng's fall from the pedestal, because I think it's necessary for Pat to see him as imperfect, to see him weak, to see his flaws. Because no one can truly love a god.

At this point, I don't know at all if this show is going to stick the landing. I see a possible path, a couple possible paths to that. I see other paths where it collapses under the weight of all its ideas. But I'm not yet done with this tale. I keep running through my head Tee's admonition ahead of the show that this is not a romance story, but a story with a romance in it. We keep saying 'BL' but what if this is...not?

#step by step #step by step the series #anatomy of a scene series #bl meta series

[marvelstars]

I usually like to talk about star wars in general and I don´t like to demonize any character be it one of my faves or not but tbh some fan takes really make me mad, takes like:

"Ahsoka wasn´t being fair in her judgment of the Order"

I am like "The Jedi Council, Obi-Wan and Plo Koon included" sentenced her to face a military trial that most definitely was going to end in her execution.

Again, a 16 year old whose only support/family/people she knew in her life abandoned her to be executed by the goverment she fought for three years as a child soldier.

Sorry but considering this, any take she has on the Order, the obvious love she still has for Jedi´s ways, people and life but also the criticism is completely valid on her part and she should say it, in fact I believe she was quite calm in her reaction considering all of that.

Same with her warm dedication to Anakin´s memory as her "older brother" you know given he was the ONLY ONE who thought about getting her a lawyer and solve the mystery to keep her from being executed by their own government, he was her master and treated her like actual family and didn´t break his links with her after the Order expelled her on circunstancial evidence or thought she was wrong for leaving after all of that like Obi-Wan did.

There´s Jedi unreasonable hate and there is reasonable, based in the story criticism and this is part of it.

Another fandom take that really gets on my nerves is:

Anakin was a child problem for loving his Mom, his Mom was like a Jedi and understood she had to "let go of him"

I am like: Shmi was a literal slave whose only way to keep Anakin from sharing the same fate as her was to give him up to a bunch of strangers, Shmi didn´t know anything about the Jedi but knew being free was better for Anakin than being a slave.

Anakin loving his mother and missing her isn´t attachment, it´s normal for a 9 year old to miss his mother, he also had a right to be mad with the republic for allowing slavery out of convenience and with the Jedi for supporting the republic on this instance because it wasn´t jedi bussines.

"Anakin was an incompetent leader"

Anakin was one of the best Jedi leaders out there in the clone wars, that´s why He and Obi-Wan got the harder missions dealing with Grievous, who killed a lot of Jedi or Count Dooku who also killed Jedi.

He got the moniker "hero without fear" out of the sheer victories he got for the republic and the many planets he helped free from separatist attacks, he also established training for what would become the first cells of the rebel alliance.

He wasn´t just a competent leader, he was a brilliant general, recognized by his enemies and friends alike.

"The clones are not a slave army"

The Clones were purchased with republic credits by a Jedi Master, that makes both the Republic and the Jedi Order their owners, this is canon in Attack of the Clones and in the Clone wars.

They dont get a salary because they are merchandise, property of the republic and the Jedi Order.

The Jedi Order didn´t know about the purchase but the fact they didn´t say anything post fact about the clones being slaves doesn´t give them a good look as "peace keepers to the galaxy" they were more, in this instance, supporters of the status quo.

And no, nothing of this makes valid Order 66, the Jedi Order didn´t deserve to be anhiliated for all of this but the Jedi Order definitely were a flawed organization made up of people with virtues and flaws who unfortunately supported blindly a corrupt system. The Republic was the mother of the Empire after all.

I feel like sharing some of my problems with fandom takes, rant over :)

#anakin skywalker #star wars #ahsoka tano #clone wars #jedi order #jedi order critical #more like Jedi Order canon but well #fandom critical #clone army

[shady-tavern]

Vampire’s Lullaby

Warnings ahead for a child getting injured and threatened with more bodily harm and death, blood and gore, though not overly descriptive. Please take care of yourselves.

This is part one of a dark vampire story folks. I hope I could do it at least some justice. If you are concerned about the contents, drop me a message and I’ll answer you.

***

'Never look them in the eye, child,' the priests always cautioned. 'You'll only find the loss of your mind and virtue there, if they don't take your life immediately.'

There was no love left in the creatures of the night, in those ever hungry for blood and flesh, in the terrors of the dark. The sunlit hours were spent scurrying about, getting work done before the sun set and the monsters crawled out of wherever they hid.

Annabelle had been taught early on to ignore the luring calls and songs of some of the night creature, to keep the curtains drawn and to stay inside, no matter how frightening or pleading something sounded outside. She and all others could flinch and cry all they liked, so long as they remained in their homes.

Those who could afford it kept their homes safe, buying all that was necessary to ward off any and all night creature, while professional hunters prowled along the property. Those less rich could still often enough convince a less reputable hunter to guard their home, by offering them food and lodging and a bit of a salary.

Young, inexperienced hunters or older ones with lasting injuries usually took those less well-paid guarding jobs. Those families who could bear to have a set of working hands missing sent one of their children to get a basic education in hunting, hoping it was enough to protect their home.

Annabelle knew people less fortunate considered her one of the reasonably lucky ones. She had three older brothers and her parents had reliable merchants buying their wares. Her mother sold iron tools she made in the smithy, while her father sold his weaving. Her two oldest brothers had learned the craft of their parents, while her third brother, the youngest of the three, had gone and become a hunter. 

Dion was the one keeping their home safe and she hated it. She hated the howls and screams and snarls of the monsters that hunted. She loathed the crooning singing that wanted to lure her towards the barred windows, cruel in its sweetness. The shadows she could sometimes see creep past during a full moon frightened her, before Dion chased them off. 

She hated that he was out there, fighting, coming home injured and bleeding. She knew, deep down, there would be a day when he wouldn't return. None of them were lucky enough to avoid that misfortune forever. Not when it had killed her grandfather and later her uncle, while guarding the house.

Sometimes, when she came back from work, she saw her brother standing outside, hand shaking as he held his weapons. But every time he hesitated, he would look at the house, through the windows where she knew her parents and older brothers sat, still either at work or taking care of the house. 

Then he'd look at her, walking briskly towards him in the setting sun. He'd nod at her and remain where he was, unflinching and with a straight back. In front of the house, guarding it.

The thick wooden door would close behind her when she stepped inside, lined with iron and dusted with silver shavings, expensive protective measures that had cost her grandmother and grandfather all their savings when they settled down in the city.

Dion would lock it with a hard noise before his steps faded. Annabelle hated those noises, hated how final and grim they sounded. Hated that she didn't know if he'd come back at dawn to unlock the door again.

They weren't truly locked in, she knew where the spare key was after all, they all did, but her parents wanted him to be the one to unlock it every morning. They wanted to give him every reason to come back alive.

She wished she could tell Dion to just stay inside with them. To sit in front of the fire and cover his ears when some beast howled, like he had done as a little boy. Annabelle was barely a year younger than him and she remembered helping him, clapping her hands on top of his to muffle the sounds extra hard.

No matter how much the noise had scared her as well, she had put on a brave face. When her parents had decided he should go and apprentice with a hunter, she had fought with them, for the first time in her life actually shouting and screaming while her parents grew just as loud. 

They had been just as desperate and scared and helpless in their arguments as she had been, but that hadn't gentled her fearful fury one bit.

When she had offered to go in Dion's stead, they had waved her off with scoffs. She wasn't big and sturdy enough, they had said. She wasn't strong enough, not fast enough, no hunter would teach her. She'd be dead within her first night outside.

She couldn't bring herself to say it to Dion's face, but she thought he shouldn't have become a hunter. Then again, none of her brothers were suited for the task. Rudi, the eldest, was currently courting a young woman, hoping to marry her and have a family of his own. He always got up at dawn along with Annabelle, peering out the windows to check if Dion was alright.

Gerard, her second-oldest brother, kept on weaving late into the night, the sound of the loom by now a welcome background noise as they all settled down. She knew the reason he stayed up late was so he could listen for his little brother, to try and hear if anything happened to him. Even if he couldn't help, he still stayed up.

Since the two oldest were meant to inherit the business, continuing the craft of their parents, the horrid task of protecting the house fell on Dion's shoulders. 

Annabelle had gotten an apprenticeship with their neighbor Mr. Bell, an older scholar and bookbinder, who had taught her everything and then hired her at his printing and book selling store.

Mr. Bell had recently started talking about letting her take over when he retired, since he was most pleased with her work. He wouldn't hand the business to her entirely right away, but he spoke about working less over the next year or two and letting her handle things more in his stead.

It filled her with fierce hope, that once he let her take over, she could earn enough money to hire a hunter. So Dion could stop reaching for cold steel and second-hand armor made of leather and rusty iron. So he could allow his hands to do something soft and gentle.

She once or twice heard him have nightmares through the wall during her free day and he barely smiled anymore and his humor had grown dark. Sometimes he managed to make her laugh, startled and a little horrified all at once, when he joked about death with other hunters in the evening, while she stopped by them to wish them a good night.

Not every night was bad, thankfully, there were even a week or two where it was utterly quiet, but it always got rough around the new and full moon.

Her brother got injured at times, coming home with a limp or a bleeding arm that got tended to swiftly so he could return outside the next night. How her mother scrubbed blood from their worn floorboards with tears in her eyes.

One day, she had promised herself therefore, he could rest. Which was why she was working from sunrise til sunset and why she stayed sweet and polite, no matter how rude a client was. Why she made sure Mr. Bell wanted her to take over his business one day and not someone else.

Her family worried about her, since she often barely made it back home in time, the sun almost gone when she arrived. Dion always looked relieved whenever he saw her hurrying down the street, his hunter garb making him look dark and foreboding.

She left early every day ever since she had figured out at what minute the sun crested the city wall enough to shine a weak, pale light along the main road. The path of the sun was always unobstructed, for across from them, on the other side of the road, was nothing but a drop down to the lowest level of the city.

That part of the city was built at the bottom of the hill that bordered on being a mountain, made up of homesteads and farmland. Scholars still argued that the hill should be classified a mountain, while others said it only looked that big because of the ostentatious, large castle built at the very top.

The fancy castle was surrounded by high walls and equally fancy manors and smoothly cobbled streets that wound down steadily. Their part of the city was always lit and very, very well protected

Annabelle usually didn't pay the upper crust much mind, she was far too busy for that, but sometimes as she walked to work, she wondered what it must be like to live without fear. To know the night creatures could not touch her.

By the time she reached the big crossroads where Mr. Bell had his business, the sunlight touched the shop and she'd unlock the door. Slipping inside, she would set everything up for the day in peaceful, soft quiet. She got the books they were selling ready in the shop and got started on their orders, mixing inks and selecting the requested paper.

Mr. Bell certainly was delighted about that, arriving with a spring in his step and all he had to do was sit down and get started.

Of course, leaving this early meant there were still some night creatures around at this hour. The last stragglers who wanted to pick off early risers who either thought they could slip by unnoticed or who had to risk their life for their income. 

The hunters were counting on that, however. They said the monsters still out and about when the sun rose were the really stupid or inexperienced ones and usually made for easy pickings. 

Sometimes Annabelle heard the gurgling cries as something died in an alley and she made sure not to look when she passed by. Since the night creatures avoided the sun like the plague, Annabelle was safe enough so long as she stayed on the main road. 

Besides, she wasn't the only one with early working hours, the baker down the street got to work even earlier, risking her life every day to earn just enough coin to pay an older, banged up hunter to guard her and her children.

Dion unlocked the door for her after the fifth bell of the clock tower struck and today she saw that his eyes were dark and there was tension all throughout his frame. It must've been a rough night, for he barely said anything to her. Even the other hunters she passed by were quiet and grim, curtly nodding at her in greeting.

She wrapped her shawl tighter around herself to ward off the chill of the morning hour, warily glancing around. It was quiet enough and she only realized she had walked too fast, that the sun hadn't risen far enough yet, until she turned around the corner, one street away from the crossroads and found it lying in dark shadows. 

The surrounding houses stood empty as of last month, which usually meant there were no hunters immediately nearby. Only, the street lying in shadow wasn't empty, like she had expected. 

A howling snarl was cut short into a high-pitched yowl by the echoing shot of a blunderbuss. She barely got a glimpse of something big and furred crumpling to the ground, before she was nearly bowled over by a hunter running past her.

The man dragged a screaming, crying child into the sun, where it hissed and tried to cringe back, only to get gripped tighter. The hunter held the kid by their curly hair and Annabelle was about to shout at him in alarm, when she saw movement in the lingering dark.

She saw a second hunter further down the shadowed street barely dodge a beast that leapt down from above. Leathery wings nearly knocked him over as the massively oversized bat scooped up what could only be a bleeding, panting werewolf. 

Only the bat didn't quite look like a bat either, it was far uglier for one and had arms along with wings and a body that tended a bit more towards the humanoid, leaving it looking like it had jumped straight out of a nightmare.

The werewolf reached a clawed hand for the crying child with a pained groan, while the bat skittered up the side of the building, too fast for anyone to catch up, until it was safely out of range of the blunderbuss. Then both night creatures suddenly fell still, staring past Annabelle.

Annabelle turned around, only to become still and unmoving herself. The first hunter held a silver dagger to the child's throat, a thin trickle of red blood dripping down, while black veins started to slowly appear along its skin, caused by the blade's touch. 

The child was whimpering softly, a horrible, helpless sound that cut straight through her heart. Tears fell out of big, dark eyes and the boy was breathing fast and shallow in panic and he looked frozen in place, not daring to move even the tiniest bit.

For a long, heavy second, all Annabelle saw was Dion as a little boy, curly haired and terrified as he hid beneath the table, hands clasped over his ears as he sniffled. How she had crawled under the table to join him, pressing her own hands over his and how he had curled into himself with relief.

The kid didn't look too much like him when she blinked the memory away, the hair was the wrong shade, the eyes far too dark. But it was similar enough, along with the small button nose and chubby cheeks, to remind her of her brother when he had been little. It left her reeling for a moment.

"Move on," the hunter growled at her. "This doesn't concern you."

It didn't. It really didn't concern her. Annabelle held no love for night creatures, not when Dion carried scars from their claws and teeth. Not when she had nightmares about them and her parents had cried themselves to sleep for weeks after sending her brother out to guard them. But she couldn't bring herself to move, feet feeling frozen to the floor.

The child's gaze met hers and it was painfully clear the he wasn't human. He had fangs and claws and pointy ears, but in that moment he just looked like a helpless kid. The boy, six years at most, looked terrified, trembling all over and trying his hardest to reign in his panicked little gasps to keep the blade from digging in deeper.

The werewolf keened, a desperate, pleading call and the massive bat, the vampire, hissed, low and threatening.

"What are you doing?" Annabelle's voice sounded strange to her own ears. "That's a child."

"It's a monster," the hunter snapped back, keeping his eyes on the two night creatures high up on the wall that stared back at him. His friend was pacing down below, clearly trying to figure out how to kill them while they were distracted. Considering his sharp, loud cussing, he wasn't successful.

"Stab it or something," the pacing hunter shouted. "Lure them down, I don't want them to run or the sun to take my kill!"

The hunter pulled the dagger away in a fast, smooth motion, flipping it and Annabelle was moving before she was fully aware of it – because this was a child, no matter the pointy teeth and tiny claws. This was a child looking scared for its life, crying and trembling and she felt sick down to her core.

Pain burned bright and intensely sharp as the dagger sliced past the back of her hand, stretched in front of the kid protectively. The fingers of her other hand gripped the boy's collar tight, wrenching him away from the hunter's grasp.

The hunter's eyes were wide in startled, baffled surprise as she pushed the boy behind her, her own eyes wide and her breathing harsh and fast. She had half a second to watch fury take over, before the sound of crunching, crushing stone broke through the air like a miniature thunderstorm.

The hunter whirled around and Annabelle felt a scream getting caught in her throat as a large chunk of wall came flying, too fast to dodge, slamming into him and leaving a smear of blood and broken bones behind.

Everything became a little fuzzy and blurry around the edges, as she turned to see the vampire rip out another chunk of wall, tossing it after the now fleeing hunter below it, crushing the man into a pulp of red, wet flesh, broken pieces of bone poking out.

She heaved in a breath to avoid throwing up, gaze darting back to land on the vampire and the still injured werewolf it carried beneath one arm, braced against its gray, fuzzy shoulder. 

The boy's heaving, suddenly loud wail made her flinch, jolting back into her body. She took a step back until she could see him without losing sight of the monsters up on the wall.

"You're alright," she found herself whispering with a trembling voice. Hesitantly she reached out, fingers shaking as badly as the kid did and nausea was still roiling through her gut.

The moment she lightly touched his shoulder, he tipped forward, knees buckling. Annabelle just barely managed to catch him, awkwardly holding him for a second, before she took a deep breath and picked him up. He weighed as much as a regular kid did, largely looked like one too, if one discarded the obvious signs where he was not.

And yet, as she watched, the longer the sun shone on him, the more those signs faded. His ears became round and the fingers that curled into her shawl were now normal, his nails short and blunt.

The scrape of claws on stone made her flinch and when she looked up, the vampire was right there, standing where the dark ended and light began. It clearly couldn't cross over and Annabelle felt her breath caught in her lungs as she stared up.

For the first time in her life, she felt tiny and flimsy and utterly mortal. The werewolf was reaching out towards the boy, breathing labored and it clearly couldn't stand on its own two legs. The vampire's arm still around its middle was the only thing holding it up.

The boy lifted his head and sobbed, reaching back towards the werewolf. The cut on his throat wasn't bleeding anymore, but there were still black veins, even if they were slowly growing fainter. Silver poisoning, Annabelle thought faintly, remembering the books Dion had been given while training and that she had peeked at.

Annabelle carefully set the boy on his feet without looking away from the big vampire, its large ears flicking as it listened. The boy stumbled forward the moment she let him go and the second he crossed into the dark, the vampire swept him up too and after a last glance at her, took flight.

It clearly wasn't dumb enough to wing up into the sky, not with the rising sun, but it was still startling to see something so big move so swiftly and quietly down the street, maneuvering smoothly around the corner and then it was gone.

Annabelle stared after them, unmoving. She didn't dare look towards the crushed hunters, her heart racing painfully fast in her chest and her stomach still roiling. Her hand was bleeding, pulsing with pain and she reached up to numbly wrap the end of her shawl around it.

Two minutes later, the sun had risen far enough for her to walk on, stumbling away from the bodies. No one had been around to see her or what had happened, not that she had noticed at least. No one had come to check either, not when the houses along this part of the street were empty.

By the time she stood in front of the shop, she was still shaking and it took her two tries to get the door open. As soon as the door fell closed behind her with a click and the familiar scent of her workplace surrounded her, she broke down into tears.

Mr. Bell, when he arrived, made her sit down, cleaned and bandaged her hand properly and handed her a sip of brandy that burned going down.

"You will take it easy," he said in a voice that allowed no arguments and he muttered under his breath, "I should've known leaving home that early was too dangerous."

She didn't correct him, because then she didn't have to explain how she had gotten injured. Instead, she was quiet and worked as much as he let her, while trying to ignore any remarks their clients made regarding her subdued spirits. 

She was sorely tempted to throw something, however, when a particularly arrogant man told her to smile, for it made her look prettier than her current, glum expression.

When the evening bell rang, the one warning everyone to get home now or it would be too late, she felt a fierce jolt of fear race down her spine.

She was suddenly terrified to go out there, to see the night creatures again or to run into someone who had known the dead hunters. Who asked around if anyone had seen anything. Or even someone who might have seen her after all, but had been too far away and preoccupied to do anything.

But she couldn't hide here, the crossroads were filled sorely with businesses and hunters didn't protect areas where people didn't live, at least they didn't if the owners weren't rich enough. 

The rich and powerful were about the only ones who had stopped fearing the night. They had the coin to pay for all the protection they could ask for and sometimes, during particularly quiet, calm nights, Annabelle could faintly hear the music of their parties.

She knew she couldn't stay here unless she wanted to die. So she grabbed her things, wound the shawl around her neck and locked up the shop. Mr. Bell had left an hour ago after making sure she would be alright, making her promise that she would go straight home. 

The spreading shadows looked darker and more frightening than ever before and her steps grew faster and faster until she was nearly running.

No one stopped her, no one even looked at her more than usual and no monsters appeared. Not yet. 

Dion was chatting with another hunter, the woman's gear looking as banged up as his did, when Annabelle arrived at home. He glanced at her, only to pause and frown.

"Did something happen?" he asked and Annabelle plastered a smile on her face, hoping it looked convincing.

"Just a little accident at work," she answered, waving her bandaged hand around and tucking it against her side before he could get a proper look at it. "Nothing serious, but I'm tired."

His frown smoothed over a bit, even if he still looked worried. "I'll unlock the door."

He accompanied her to the front step and as she stepped inside, she couldn't help but turn around. "Please be careful."

"I always am," he answered, but she must've looked scared, as scared as she felt, because his face softened a bit. "I promise."

He never promised to come back in the morning, because they both knew there was a chance that he wouldn't. Annabelle suddenly felt fiercely angry and tired and there was a sting of self-loathing.

She had gotten two hunters killed and monsters had gotten away alive. What if those night creatures were the ones to murder her brother? What if that little boy grew up to become someone else's nightmare? 

She couldn't bring herself to regret saving him, not when she remembered that gut-wrenching fear on his face. But she couldn't help wishing the hunters had remained unharmed, no matter how nonsensical it was. Someone had to die when night creatures and hunters clashed.

She never again wanted a hand in deciding whose fate it was to be killed.

Dion locked the door and Annabelle managed to wave off the concern of her parents and older brothers and retreated to her room. She wasn't hungry and when she sat down on her bed, she could see the sinking sun.

Her room felt stuffy, so she opened the window, knowing she still had a few minutes to air out the room. Iron bars protected her window and she could still see Dion from here, waving at a hunter further down the street.

The memories of this morning resurfaced once again and would not let go. Annabelle started to tug at the bandage on her hand until a sharp pain made her wince. Glancing down she saw a bit of blood bleeding through and she took a couple of deep breaths.

What was done, was done, she reminded herself. Short of walking to the city guard and getting arrested and executed for mingling with the night creatures, there was nothing she could do.

Glancing up, she noticed that the sun had disappeared behind the city walls and while the sky wasn't entirely dark yet, she saw something big fly past. Flinching back, her heart suddenly hammering, she fumbled to slam the window closed.

She yanked the curtains shut as well, almost ripping them off, her fingers trembling as she clung to the thick fabric. It wasn't the same massive vampire bat, she told herself, there were many night creatures after all. Surely it was something else.

But Dion was out there and if he died because she hadn't been able to harden her stupid, soft heart against the face of a crying, terrified child, she'd never forgive herself.

It took a few deep breaths for her to calm herself and after long minutes of standing there while nothing happened, she got ready for bed. Tonight seemed to be a quiet night tonight and she laid in bed, listening carefully for anything horrible. When she heard Dion's rough, muffled laughter drifting up, she finally let herself relax.

Her eyes started to slip closed when a scratching sound on stone made her jolt upright so fast she briefly got dizzy. Heart racing once again she felt froze in place as a large shadow covered her window. She couldn't see anything through the curtains, but this size let her know what exactly was outside.

She didn't dare make a noise. She heard a muffled clack a moment later and then the shadow vanished with another quiet scratch of claws.

Annabelle sat in the silent darkness of her room, her breathing a little funny and when, at last, she managed to make herself move, her heart finally calmed down a little.

Pulling the curtains apart just enough to peek through, she blinked in surprise when she saw a folded page of thick paper on her windowsill, weighed down with a rock. She stared at it for a moment, then let go of the curtains again.

Annabelle wasn't dumb enough to go and open the window right now. So she backed up and sat down and stared. She didn't think herself capable of falling asleep again that night, but between one blink and the next, the sun was rising and she was lying crookedly on her bed.

Getting up and groaning at the crick in her neck, she approached the window once again. The sun was just peeking over the wall when she opened it and plucked the paper from beneath the rock. It was slightly damp from being outside and the move sent the rock tumbling down to the ground.

Unfolding the page, she blinked in surprise when the clumsy handwriting of a child greeted her first. The letters were clearly written with great care and as she read, it felt like a big hand was squeezing her heart. 

The kid was thanking her for saving his life and that of his mother and auntie. He said that he had been so scared, that he thought all humans were cruel and evil, but she clearly wasn't. He had added a sketch of her, childish and simple and cheerful.

Below that, in a neat and elegant hand, one of the night creatures had written that they owed her and she could ask for one favor. All she had to do was leave a note outside her window and if possible, it would be fulfilled.

Sitting down on the chair in front of her desk, Annabelle found herself reading the letter again. Then she slowly folded it and didn't know what to think or feel or do. In the end she hid the letter and got ready for work, mind still spinning in circles.

Dion looked tired but unharmed and he even smiled at her when he let her out of the house, going so far as to twirl the key around his finger. "Have fun," he called after her when she left with a little wave.

Nothing happened on her way to work and Mr. Bell looked happy to see that she was doing better today. He left halfway through the day, citing that he needed to take care of something, though Annabelle got the sneaking suspicion that he was looking for excuses to leave the shop in her hands for a while. To get her used to running it in his absence.

It was all going well and fine, until she heard the tinkle of the front door and when she stepped out of the backroom, she stilled mid-step. A curly haired kid with dark eyes was peeking over the counter, clearly on his very tip-toes.

A smile broke out over his face. "Hello," he said with a small lisp, as if it was entirely normal that a night creature was out and about in the middle of the day. Looking utterly human.

Oh. A cold realization washed over her. Of course night creatures looked human during the day. The hunters would have found a way to eradicate them all otherwise. There were only so many places they could hide before being found.

Then she frowned. Did that mean they could walk out into the sun too? Or only some of them?

"Did you get my letter?" the boy asked. "Mama said I shouldn't come here, but I wanted to make sure."

"Yes," she managed to answer. "I got it."

His face lit up. "Good." Then his face fell and he sank down a bit, eyes barely peeking over the counter. "Thank you. That was...that was really scary."

"I bet it was." In all honesty, his situation had probably been far scarier than having a large monster show up in front of her window for a second. She couldn't stop herself from adding, "You need to be more careful."

The kid shuffled a bit in place, looking chastised. "I wasn't supposed to go outside," he told her, fingertips tapping against the edge of the counter he clung to. "But Mama was gone longer than usual and I got worried."

"I bet she's worried now," Annabelle said and suddenly she couldn't get rid of the thought that another night creature was going to show up. A grown, dangerous one. "Unless you told her where you are?"

The kid looked caught. "Um..."

She couldn't help but huff and made a shooing motion. "Go home before she worries."

The kid was about to push away, when he suddenly looked worried. "You won't tell anyone, right?"

Annabelle knew the moment she gave a description of the kid to the hunters, they'd comb the surrounding area for him and his mother. It was forbidden to get tangled with the night creatures, always had been.

Though, now that she looked at the kid, she couldn't help but think that the hunters were just as ruthless. And they could be just as cruel as the monsters.

"I won't," she said at last. "Now off you go."

The kid stepped away with a relieved smile and hurried towards the door, only to pause. "If we can help you, we will," he said. "Mama says we owe you one."

With those words he slipped out, the bell tinkling merrily. Annabelle exhaled in a rush and leaned against the counter, watching the kid through the shop window as he left with quick steps. Rubbing a hand over her face, she shook her head and returned to work.

She didn't have time to think about the difference between monsters and hunters, not when it left her mind in a messy state. There was too much work to do.

Mr. Bell came back later than he had said, whistling when he saw how much she had gotten done. It helped keep her distracted and by the time she wrapped up the last order of the day and got a head start on the next one, the final bell was ringing.

To her misfortune, she found her usual way back home blocked by a tipped over carriage. Horses were panicking and people were shouting and crowding around, trying to fix the situation as quickly as possible. 

There was no way to get past and a nervous glance at the sky told her she couldn't wait until the situation got resolved, even if taking any other path meant a detour. Already the frazzled travelers were shouting how late it was and that they needed to get going now.

Tugging her shawl more firmly around herself, she turned to eye the nearby alley. It laid in shadow, but there was nothing else she could do. Even if she now knew that night creatures could look like ordinary humans, she was willing to risk the alley rather than stay on the main road until the sun had disappeared entirely.

Still, her heart was racing a bit and she was nervously glancing around. It got quiet as she left the hectic road behind and soon the only sounds were her shoes on rough cobblestone and occasionally voices drifting out of still open windows.

Some of the houses back here stood empty, broken windows and destroyed doors showing where night creatures had gotten through. Claw marks were visible where the monsters had crawled in and she saw bloody drag marks in front of one door, where someone or something had been hauled away.

It was dark by the time she emerged from the alley and the sight of the sun beyond the city wall made her breath catch. Home wasn't too far, however, surely she'd be fine.

She was about to rush ahead, when she heard the sound of claws on stone. For a moment she was about to just blindly start running, heart pounding, before she made herself look up. There it was, the nightmarish bat, crouched at the corner of the roof, wings folded primly.

They stared at each other for a long moment, until one of the vampire's ears flicked and it slowly moved one arm to point down the street. Towards her home. When she didn't move right away, it made a shooing motion, wings twitching.

Slowly taking a step and then another while not looking away, Annabelle started walking. The vampire followed her slowly, not even needing to leap across the alley onto the next roof. It just needed to stretch in order to reach.

Forcing herself to look away when she stumbled and nearly fell, Annabelle found herself walking faster and faster. When Dion came into view, waiting outside, visibly tense and worried, she looked up again.

The vampire was nowhere to be seen, but she heard the faint scratch of claws and realized that the night creature wanted her to hear it. She hadn't heard a damn thing until it had crouched above her, after all. It allowed her to track it.

"You're late," Dion said in greeting, checking her over for injuries while ushering her towards the house. "Get in, now."

She was pushed through the door before she could say anything and the lock clicked into place. Annabelle found herself swarmed by her family, all worried and scolding.

She ate dinner while barely tasting anything and retreated to her room as quickly as possible. The curtains were still open and when she reached for them, she saw the vampire, a few roofs away, out of view of the hunters down below.

She saw its dark eyes glint in the moonlight when it turned its head towards her, large ears perked. She found herself staring for a long moment, before she startled, remembering the warnings about getting thralled and lured outside.

But she felt fine, she realized as she was about to yank the curtains closed. Her mind was still her own. Surely she'd notice if it wasn't? She didn't feel compelled to go towards it – quite the opposite in fact. If anything, she wanted to stay right where she was, thank you very much.

Then the vampire's ears flicked and it was gone between one moment and the next, moving far, far too fast for a creature that size. Annabelle closed the curtains and took a deep breath.

She really needed to get some rest and hope that tomorrow made more sense again.

.*.*.*.

Over the next couple of days things made no more sense than previously and Annabelle resolved to just not think about it anymore. She had ended up saving a night creature child, they were grateful, no one had killed her in the process and now she'd continue living as she always did.

Sometimes she spotted the vampire, flying by or peering across the roofs towards her window. At first it frightened her worse, until she realized that it must be checking for any notes she might leave. In case she wanted to cash in that favor she was now apparently owed.

This, too, she resolved to not think about. There was nothing a night creature could give her, after all.

Right up until she waited at the door in the morning and Dion didn't open it. Her worry grew and she fidgeted, exchanging a glance with Rudi, who was peering outside the windows anxiously.

"I don't see him," her oldest brother murmured, shifting restlessly in place. After another moment he decided, "I'll go get the key."

He left and returned just as swiftly and the moment she had the door unlocked, Annabelle rushed outside. "Dion?" she called out.

"Over here," the voice of one of the other hunters answered and she ran, Rudi right behind her. Skidding to a stop at the small alley three houses down, she sucked in a sharp gasp.

Dion was lying in a pool of blood, breathing shallowly and two hunters were kneeling grimly at his side, doing their best to staunch the bleeding. 

"Get a doctor, now," one of the hunters snapped out and Annabelle was moving again, running past a worried Mr. Bell, who poked his head out of the window, looking sleep-ruffled.

Everyone knew where the nearest doctor was and how long it took to get to their clinic. Thankfully, the doctors all got up early, knowing the first thing they usually did was stitch up an injured hunter.

Dr. Under was a seasoned, experienced woman with incredibly steady hands and a cool composure and she was the doctor everyone on the street and the next ones went to. With her guidance they got Dion into her clinic and then all they could do was wait. Annabelle stared down at the blood on her hands and sleeves from where she had held Dion's legs beneath the knees.

Rudi had left reluctantly, promising to tell Mr. Bell that she wouldn't be in and to inform the rest of their family. Soon they all sat in the waiting room, silent and scared. Annabelle had to bite down on the accusations that crawled over her tongue like brambles. Her parents looked horrified and guilty enough as it was.

"He'll make it," Dr. Under said the moment she stepped out of the treatment room. "He's going to be out of commission for a couple of weeks, however. I'd recommend letting him rest and recover for a couple of months even, but he could work again sooner."

Meaning she knew their family didn't have the money to pay a hunter to replace him. Before Dion had protected them, her uncle had, who had died a few weeks before her brother had taken over.

They wouldn't be entirely unprotected, the other hunters looked out for the surrounding buildings since not everyone had a protector. Five hunters, Dion included, regularly protected the entirety of their street.

But if they had to choose between protecting their own home or Annabelle's, the hunters would choose their own families or employees. It was risky, not paying for or having someone guard the house. 

Her parents did not have the funds to pay for help, they all knew it. They would have to risk having no one and then Dion would have to go out the moment he was well enough, instead of healing up fully.

As she found herself ushered outside, Dr. Under promising that Dion would remain safe here until he could go home, she stared at her cold hands, finger knotted into her bunched up shawl.

She returned home with her family, swallowing down anger and fear with nearly every step. She hated all of this. Hated that night creatures wanted them dead, hated that her brother had to suffer, hated that they were never, ever safe when it was dark.

She had heard that the countryside was less dangerous, that night creatures preferred to flock to cities. They liked the amount of humans that lived there. She had heard rumors that someone had angered night creatures so much once upon a time, that they still sought retribution to this day. 

She just wanted it all to be over.

As soon as she was back in her room, blood cleaned off, she pulled out the letter the little boy had sent her. She hesitated for a long moment, then she pulled out a piece of paper and dipped her quill into her inkpot.

It took her a few tries to get it right, crossing out words and staring out the window to the spot where the vampire usually sat shortly before it left again. She wrangled with her thoughts, her distrust and fear.

Night creatures were dangerous, everyone knew that. They held no love for humans and most of the time not even for each other. It was foolish to trust one, to put her hopes in one.

And yet, as the sun set, she left a folded piece of paper on her windowsill, weighed down with the same rock the night creature had used previously. It had still lain where it had gotten dropped a couple of days ago.

She stared at it for a long while, then she took a deep breath and kept the window open, the curtains pulled back. If she was going to do this, she had to look the vampire in the eye. If she gave a night creature the information that their house would be unguarded, ready for reaping, she had to try to spot any possible deception before it got them all killed.

She saw the vampire appear a few minutes after sundown and how it paused, obviously spotting her and her note. It tipped its head a bit to the side and it remained still for a long moment. Then it moved. 

It arrived far too fast, nearly making her flinch back, hanging upside down from her roof. Hands the size of her head braced themselves left and right of her window and Annabelle had to force herself to not look away.

She had made precautions of course in case the vampire tried to thrall her. Her room was locked and the key dropped behind her big, heavy dresser, which would make a racket if she tried to move it. The bars in front of the window held shavings of silver and even if the vampire hypnotized her, it wouldn't get to kill anyone but her.

If that was the grim price for foolishly hoping she could trust a night creature, she'd pay it. But the vampire didn't do anything. At last it shifted its weight and pulled the note free with its clawed fingertips, thumbing it open to read it.

"Can you do it?" Annabelle found herself whispering, voice cracking and throat dry.

The vampire pulled itself up out of view and she saw its shadow on the roof across from her window, the house not built as high. She saw it change, turning from hulking and winged to something that looked human, crouching above her. She saw long hair move in the strong night breeze.

"I accept," the voice of a woman answered. "Consider it done."

Her breath escaped her in a big exhale and she had to grip the windowsill, knees suddenly trembling. "Thank you." Her voice shook a little.

The vampire hummed, then it asked, "Why did you not tell your city guards about my godson when he visited you?"

Annabelle knew what her family would have done, what Mr. Bell would have done. What the entire city would have done. But she hadn't been able to and she didn't know if that was a good or a bad thing.

"He's just a kid," she found herself answering honestly, watching the vampire's shadow. "It didn't seem...fair. To hurt him just because he's not human. Or to rob him of his family."

Nothing about this was fair. Not little boys nearly getting their throats slit open or her brother, brave and bloody, lying on dirty cobblestone. After what she had seen the hunters do to the boy, she couldn't even say anymore that only the night creatures were cruel.

"I see. You're a brave one, you know," the vampire said. "I've yet to meet a human who dared to look me in the eye when they knew what I was, not even your hunters do it."

Annabelle pressed her lips together, then she lifted her chin. She was sick and tired of being scared. She was sick and tired of fearing for her life and begging a god who might or might not be listening for her brother's safety. If a monster could do the job instead, she'd gratefully accept the help.

"You're not all that scary," she made herself say with more confidence than she felt. "You actually look kind of fluffy as a bat." And very frightening.

The vampire laughed, sounding surprised and darkly amused. "I think I like you," she said, a grin audible in her voice. "Brave, smart and sweet, you are quite something, I believe." 

The shadow shifted and it looked as though the vampire had sat down on the roof and Annabelle had no idea what to say.

"Sleep," the vampire told her, voice gentler than before. "I will not let anything happen to you and yours."

Annabelle walked away from the window on slightly unsteady legs, leaving it open. She wanted to hear it, if something happened. Even if she knew, rationally, that she couldn't do anything, she still wanted to know if the vampire would abuse her trust.

She dropped onto her bed, watching the bit of the vampire's shadow she could still see. Slowly, her pounding heart calmed down and she slipped beneath the covers, watching her curtains shift gently in the breeze.

That breeze actually felt pretty nice, even if every stray sound made her jerk upright. She only realized the vampire had started to sing softly when her eyes fell closed, lulled to sleep by a monster's soft voice.

.*.*.*.

Part Two and Three are up.

#my writing #vampire #dark fantasy #kind of #tw injury to a minor #blood #and some gore #I hope I managed to write this well enough! #part 2 will hopefully be done this week #but early next week at the latest #i genuinely don't know how to tag like usual #so I'm just rambling away #anyways I've been in a vampire mood as of lately #and this story is one of the products of that #hope you'll like it! #I tried but for the life of me #these two did not want to get squished into a short story #they demanded more time and space #so here we are #they be lesbians Harold #or however that saying goes

[yaoi-life2021]

BL MANGA RECOMMENDATION!!

TITLE: GARMENT

AUTHOR: Saikawa Fuyu

BOSS X SUBORDINATE ✔ OLDER GAY UKE ✔

A subordinate who's like an insólent dog X a helpful virtues superior. A love between salary men in the clothing industry...

Kentarou(gay) is the director of the newly launched apparel brand who is in love with his subordinate,Takahashi, the software engineer of the company whom he finds adorable ..But Kentarou's luck in relationship was never good & all his ex's were trash ..moreover Kentarou is famous for being a playboy ..

#manga #yaoi bl #bl manga #yaoi recommendation #yaoi love #yaoi manga #yaoi manhwa #bl manhwa #yaoi #yaoi comic

[thephantomcasebook]

I'm thinking Ewan Mitchell sold his soul to Hollywood. Fucking scary how they lure young great talents like him in. Thoughts?

Look, I'm gonna tell it to you as clean as I can.

Actors and Actresses are narcissistic, shallow, neurotic, empty people, which, as a whole, can't be trusted. They'll do and say whatever it takes not just to get a role, but to get even a few more lines in a script. They are adult people that play make believe for a living because they, generally, don't like themselves and want to be someone else. To deify or put on a throne, anyone, that plays pretend for a living is plain ignorant and you're asking for your heart to be dashed.

No one enters entertainment and comes out a better person, yeah?

There is a very few actors/Actresses that are jobbing, lunch pail working performers that are good and normal people.

Michelle Dockery, Laura Carmichael, Jenna Coleman, Nikolaj Coster-Waldu, Matthew Marsden, Aiden Turner, and Sam Heughan.

The only standard you should have for an actor or actress is these three questions:

Are they respecting the character?

Are they respecting the Lore?

And - most importantly - are they respecting the fans?

I hit Olivia Cooke with the fucking truck all the time, because, Olivia Cooke does not live up to these basic principles. She doesn't care about Alicent, in fact she hates Alicent. She doesn't give a fuck about the lore, and is actively campaigning to change it to virtue signal. And she openly does not care about the fans unless their gender and sexuality gives her cashe to big-up her career.

Like I've said, you can love a character and dislike an actor/actress. I'd give my sword for Alicent Hightower ... and at the same time I think Olivia Cooke is a dishonest snake.

Same thing with Lena Headey. Lena Headey might legitimately be retarded, okay. She is so stupid that she couldn't spell "Cat" if I spotted her the "C" and the "A", right? Lena Heady also happens to check all three of the boxes. She loved playing Cersei. She respected the Lore around Cersei and didn't try to change her character to make her look better. And while she had a terrible history prior of out right abusing her own fans, she learned to appreciate the people that paid her fucking bills, in the end.

When it comes to Ewan. I wouldn't wear those clothes, and I question the manhood and self-respect of any man who wears them - gay or straight. But at the end of the day, Ewan Mitchell has a right to do whatever the fuck he wants to do. Or, more succinctly, I don't give a fuck about his or any other actor's personal lives.

What they do on their time is their business. But what they do on my time is my business. And since I'm paying a subscription for "MAX" and thus paying his fucking salary, I expect him to not waste my time with half-ass performances and hack effort, right?

But he hasn't waisted my time.

Ewan Mitchell has been a model of professionalism and passion when it comes to portraying Aemond.

He has put more thought than anyone - except for Glynn-Carney - about his character.

He is dedicated to playing the character right.

And he has been exemplary in his treatment and interaction with the fans of the show and the franchise as a whole.

And that's really all you can ask of an actor in your franchise. What he does and believes in his personal life is his affair. As long as he doesn't disrespect me than I won't disrespect him. That simple.

Once more, you guys have to stop putting actors/actresses on thrones, cause they're only human ... and, in many cases, not very good ones. Love the character, stan the character, but hold these real life people to simple standards that they should be holding themselves too.

I'm not coming down on you nonny, but I've had thirteen years of this shit on Tumblr of fangirls worshiping an actor or actress in cult like status because they like a character.

You guys have got to stop doing that, cause it only leads to bad things.

#House of the Dragon #Ewan Mitchell #Olivia Cooke #Lena Headey #Michelle Dockery #Laura Carmichael #Sam Heughan #Matthew Marsden #Jenna Coleman #Aemond Targaryen #Alicent Hightower

[from-the-coffee-shop-in-edoras]

You know how literally every time Gandalf goes anywhere, everyone basically greets him with “Oh, God, Gandalf’s here. Things must be even worse than we thought”?

That’s basically me at work every single day. By virtue of what I do (the details don’t matter), no one ever sees me unless things have gone to shit, and so no one is ever happy to see me. It’s a strange existence. Not an unpleasant one for me, but strange.

Hopefully if I ever screw up and get professionally killed in a battle with the government equivalent of a balrog, my boss will see fit to send me back with bigger powers and a higher salary until I get it right.

#lord of the rings #lotr #gandalf #tolkien #the office stormcrow #uh oh she’s back

[chronic-claire-universe]

Claire’s Commission

Hi my dust bunnies, it’s been a while since I’ve been thinking about this, so here I am with a little time.

The situation: I’m studying to become resident medicine student and at the moment I’m paying both my school drive and my medicines for health problems, Unfortunately a huge bill came up this month and it’s really difficult paying it without sacrificing other essential goods like food. I won’t receive my salary before July, which is a big problem because working as a freelance doesn’t give me the certainty and the stability I need to save money especially in these situations. Of course if you need any detail I’m willing to talk about it privately, but as many of you know I wouldn’t organize something like this if I didn’t need it. I 

What do I offer:

Visual Matchup 2 €

Matchup + Drabble 5 €

Rules:

Fandoms I write for: Tokyo Revengers, Jujutsu Kaisen, Bungou Stray Dogs, HxH, Chainsaw Man, Blue Lock and Haikyuu. You can ask for one fandom and any other addition will be discussed on private message.

Send me a picrew of yours and some details like: MBTI, hobbies or personality.

No age restrictions since it would be a sfw headcanon, but if you’re 18+ and you would like a nsfw headcanon then I would be glad to write it for you, just put your age in your bio!

 I had a lot of fun last time doing the visual matchup that’s why, I’m trying to open commission, I know everyone just like me doesn’t have too many economic possibilities, that’s why I’m trying to organize something accessible to everyone. I hope that this finds you well and I can’t wait to see how many of you will send me request  💜

Payment: My Ko-Fi has a goal settled and after the payment has been confirmed on the site, I will start to work on your request! Please remember that when you pay you have to write in the notes the name of your blog so I know who paid for what!

REBLOG ARE APPRECIATED!

@nanamis-wifey-reye @softbajis​ @marvtales​ @feitania @suyacho​ @sugardaddyreo​ @aasouthteranoswife @x-noechi-x​ @lalunanymph​ @ranscutedoll @tokyo-daaaamn-ji-gang @nkogneatho @laudthingcat @jotatetsuken @gennysuga​ @mitsuyeaah​ @dottores​ @virtue-and-beneviolence​ @manjiroscum​ @eyeyii-in-roppongi​

#claire matchup #emergency commisions #tokyo revengers #jujutsu kaisen #blue lock #hxh #my hero academia smut #haikyuu #chainsaw man #bungou stray dogs

[memecucker]

Try and guess what famous 20th century English writer wrote this if you weren’t already aware. Answer under the Read More

Nationalization. One can ‘nationalize’ industry by the stroke of a pen, but the actual process is slow and complicated. What is needed is that the ownership of all major industry shall be formally vested in the State, representing the common people. Once that is done it becomes possible to eliminate the class of mere owners who live not by virtue of anything they produce but by the possession of title-deeds and share certificates. State-ownership implies, therefore, that nobody shall live without working. How sudden a change in the conduct of industry it implies is less certain. In a country like England we cannot rip down the whole structure and build again from the bottom, least of all in time of war. Inevitably the majority of industrial concerns will continue with much the same personnel as before, the one-time owners or managing directors carrying on with their jobs as State employees. There is reason to think that many of the smaller capitalists would actually welcome some such arrangement. The resistance will come from the big capitalists, the bankers, the landlords and the idle rich, roughly speaking the class with over £2,000 a year – and even if one counts in all their dependants there are not more than half a million of these people in England. Nationalization of agricultural land implies cutting out the landlord and the tithe drawer, but not necessarily interfering with the farmer. It is difficult to imagine any reorganization of English agriculture that would not retain most of the existing farms as units, at any rate at the beginning. The farmer, when he is competent, will continue as a salaried manager. He is virtually that already, with the added disadvantage of having to make a profit and being permanently in debt to the bank. With certain kinds of petty trading, and even the small-scale ownership of land, the State will probably not interfere at all. It would be a great mistake to start by victimizing the smallholder class, for instance. These people are necessary, on the whole they are competent, and the amount of work they do depends on the feeling that they are ‘their own masters’. But the State will certainly impose an upward limit to the ownership of land (probably fifteen acres at the very most), and will never permit any ownership of land in town areas.

From the moment that all productive goods have been declared the property of the State, the common people will feel, as they cannot feel now, that the State is themselves. They will be ready then to endure the sacrifices that are ahead of us, war or no war. And even if the face of England hardly seems to change, on the day that our main industries are formally nationalized the dominance of a single class will have been broken. From then onwards the emphasis will be shifted from ownership to management, from privilege to competence. It is quite possible that State-ownership will in itself bring about less social change than will be forced upon us by the common hardships of war. But it is the necessary first step without any real reconstruction is impossible.

- George Orwell, The Lion and the Unicorn: Socialism and the English Genius