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lemony-snickers · 1 year

Note

petrichor for the prompts please? It’s currently storming and my are is under nearly every watch/warning imaginable right now (thunderstorm, flooding, and tornado being the big ones). Remembering that there’s new growth and life springing up around me helps me during gloomy days like this.

I’m happy to see you writing again, lem. It brings me joy.

Sending you warm and cozy thoughts full of your favorite warm beverage, blanket, a fire, and a beautiful view 💜

(aaah, stay safe! we had hail & massive thunderstorms here over the weekend and it was pretty scary! i hope it passes quickly and that there's no real damage where you are. also, i hope you don't mind i chose our beloved yams because when i think of petrichor, i think of forests, and, well, you can probably figure out the rest, ahaha. <3)

There are few things Tenzo likes more than being in the forest after a storm. The fresh smell of rain, of loam, of life bristling all around him, never ceases to induce a sensation of both contentment and excitement.

Appreciation for the humidity and the quiet, anticipation for everything new yet to come.

The moss is soft beneath him, squelching a little in places where the land dips and water has collected. He doesn't mind the wet feet, though. The one thing shinobi sandals are good for is that they drain easily. And it's warm enough he isn't concerned about his toes getting cold.

He pauses to take a long, deep breath through his nose, to enjoy the earthy scent all around him. It's like the heavy drops of precipitation have activated the world anew; awakening the dirt and the bark of the trees, coaxing them to life. He breathes it all in and feels like he is one with the forest.

Maybe his kinship with it has something to do with mokuton. Perhaps his tranquil nature and his love of the woods is all part of his complicated relationship to his own body; the cells that replicate inside him which were put there by someone else.

If so, perhaps his appreciation for nature is the only gift Orochimaru ever gave him.

The rains have been heavy in Fire Country this season, and the proof is all around him. The greenery is brighter than usual, the stems of flowers and ferns hardy and thick, brimming with strength. Birds chirp, fluttering their wings as they bathe in puddles left by the storm.

The forest swells with life, and it invigorates Tenzo on his journey. He has no destination today, no mission to complete. His time, for now, is his own, and amongst the damp leaves and sticky mud and biting insects is the only way he'd ever consider enjoying it.

The sound of an animal in the brush catches his attention and Tenzo alights easily to a tree branch overhead to survey his surroundings. At first, he thinks perhaps it's a fox--the copper fur catches his eyes between verdant leaves. But it seems much too small for a fox. Perhaps a kit, then.

Tenzo climbs down from his perch and approaches slowly, not wanting to spook the creature if he can help it. It might be injured or sick if it's wandering the forest so close to him in broad daylight, and he does not relish a trip to the infirmary if it decides to attack.

When he pushes aside the leaves, Tenzo has to stifle a laugh.

It's no fox, no kit, but a bedraggled, half-drowned looking orange tabby, who glares at him from beneath sodden, matted fur, ears flattened and hissing as it sneers.

"Got caught in the rain, huh?" he asks, smirking at the feline as it makes a ferocious rumbling sound somewhere deep in its belly. Tenzo just chuckles. "Yes, you're very terrifying. Now come here."

The cat hisses when Tenzo unzips his vest and scoops it up in his arms, but it's not as if this is any more difficult than wrangling a rambunctious ANBU squad at the bar or rousing Kakashi-senpai for a particularly early mission departure. So with minimal effort, Tenzo manages to secure the cat in his grasp, holding it firmly against his chest so he can use his other sleeve to dry the creature's head and back, letting the rest of the moisture seep into the front of his shirt.

At first, the cat struggles, digging its needle-like claw into Tenzo's forearms and chest. "Oh, knock it off, you're fine," he says, continuing to help the cat dry off. The method isn't perfect, by any means, but by the time he sets the cat back on its feet, it's much less drowned-looking than when he found it.

"There you are," he says, still chuckling, "try to stay out of the rain next time."

And then he's on his way again, marching back toward Konoha listening to the birds and the rush of water in a nearby stream, trying very hard not to let on that he can sense the cat stalking him through the undergrowth.

He's unsure whether it does so out of gratitude or irritation, but it hardly matters.

One cat to another, Tenzo doesn't find his new orange shadow to be much of a threat.

It's not until he's home he has to make a decision--leave it outside or let it in. It's not much of a decision, though, because as soon as his front door is open half an inch, the thing darts inside like it's always lived there.

Tenzo rolls his eyes, resigned to his evening. He'll put up posters tomorrow to see if the stray belongs to anyone, but for now, he's too tired and content to worry over it.

As he sprawls on his bed a little while later, the cat climbs up to join him.

"Oh, so you like me now, huh?" he asks.

The cat glares, but still settles on his chest to fall asleep, purring all the while. Tenzo's new companion still smells like the forest--like the damp earth and green leaves he loves so much.

He'll still make the posters, but it seems to him like maybe that's a sign.

prompt list for those interested. <3

#tenzo #yamato #tenzo fanfiction #yamato fanfiction #lemony scribbles #april 🌧️ lem 💐#howdoesoneadult #thank you so much for your kind words and for sending in a prompt i hope you like this lil' thing <3

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ravenofthefandoms · 1 year

Text

The Lucky Stag: Part 3

Word Count: 4621 (oopsies)

Pairing: Sandor Clegane x reader

Characters: Sandor Clegane, original character (Marlys), original character (mentioned) (Jeremiah Bryne), Morgan (mentioned), Lem (mentioned), Gatins (mentioned), Brotherhood without Banners, Thoros of Myr, Beric Dondarrion

Warnings: some gore (it’s Game of Thrones), some mild angst, some mild fluff

A/N: Hi :) sorry for disappearing but life has been hectic. I’ve been wanting to write again, especially after House of the Dragon. Hopefully, people still wanna see more of this. Hopefully, for a time, I’ll have more regular updates and posts. As I said a while back, there are some Podrick x reader posts I have brewing plus some ideas for House of the Dragon. This one isn’t super exciting but I’ve got some plans for the next few chapters that should get the blood pumping if you will

Tags (let me know if you would like to be removed since it’s been so long): @anita-e-taylor, @my-bitch-loki @orange-sherbxrt

Disclaimer: I do not own any of the characters outside of my own original characters. The others belong to George R.R. Martin. I do not own any of the gifs used. They belong to the original creators.

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3

You had been walking for ages, or what felt like it at least. Walking where, you did not know. Sandor had muttered to himself while he held you outside of the burning tavern, something about finding the men so he could tear them to bloody fucking pieces. Unfortunately, you had nothing but the singed, smoky clothes on your back and the aching hole in your chest left to your name. You knew, in reality, that it had only been a day and a half since your life had turned to ash but time no longer felt as it did before. Your eyes always felt dry, and your voice caught in your throat more often than not. Sandor could count the words you’ve spoken on his two hands.

On the first night, your friend, Marlys, was gracious enough to let you stay with her and her husband. She insisted that it was her duty as your friend, however. Another thing she tried to insist on was you sleeping in her and her husband’s bed, which he had heartily agreed to. You refused, though. Instead, you curled on the hay floor near the fireplace, Sandor sitting against the wall near your feet.

Marlys was truly a kind woman, and you felt badly now for the way you were when you stayed there that night. You supposed that you shouldn’t, considering your grief was fresh and intense. The next morning, you and Sandor broke your fast with Marlys and her husband before they gave you enough food for a day of travel and a skin of water. Their kindness made tears well in your eyes. As you said your goodbyes, Sandor waited outside for you.

Your childhood friend pulled you into a tight embrace. Tears spilled onto each others’ shoulders as she whispered her condolences. After a night of rest, you realized that you weren’t the only one who grieved your brother’s death, and held onto Marlys as tightly as she held onto you. “I’ll miss you, (Y/N). Promise you’ll come back someday.” You nodded in response, not trusting your voice to be steady.

Letting go, you walked out to a patiently waiting Sandor. “Ready?” He knew what your real answer was, the same as anyone else’s would be. Your nod was good enough for him though. With one last tearful look towards probably the one place you wish you could stay, you began walking.

The first day of walking had been largely uneventful. Sandor led you with, surprisingly, gentle hands. Whether on your elbow, on the small of your back, or even holding your own in his, he never let go of you until you needed a break or it was time to set up camp. He found a clearing off the side of the path you had been traveling. With no ax, he was unable to cut any logs to build a proper fire, and instead gathered twigs and sticks from the surrounding copse of trees. As he gathered the firewood, you sat and prepared the area where the fire would blaze. Stones from a nearby stream were set in a circle to keep the flames contained. You handed it over to Sandor when he returned. He began to stack the wood, stuffing fallen leaves and tall grass into the center.

By the time you sat and made yourself as comfortable as you could on the hard ground, Sandor had the tinder smoking, then smoldering, and finally beginning to burn. As the fire slowly grew, Sandor moved to sit next to you. His eyes watched you carefully, unsure what to do or say. He had never been good with words, most of them crass and rude. He didn’t want to be crass or rude with you though. When it came to you, Sandor wanted to make you smile and laugh, to see the glimmer in your eye when you spoked animatedly, to keep you warm during the chilly nights, to-... He shook his head slightly, needing to derail this trail of thinking. As odd yet enjoyable this sensation was, there were priorities to be dealt with first. He needed to track down those sons of bitches that hurt you so and make them regret ever being born.

“Sandor,” you murmured. He looked down and grunted. “Thank you. For everything you’ve done for me.” He suddenly found his hands, fiddling with a small twig, to be much more interesting.

“Don’ thank me. I’ve been more trouble than not,” he muttered. A soft chuckle, more of a sigh than anything, fell from your lips and you shook your head, almost as if he had made some silly joke. Pride swelled in his heart for a moment – hearing any sort of sweet sound from you was a blessing. You didn’t respond to his words, only scooted closer to him as a chill began to creep into the air. Your shoulders grazed his, body heat warming you as much as the fire in front of you. “You should get some rest.” His eyes flicked down to you, the smallest of bitter smiles gracing your lips.

“Aye, I should.” You looked up at him; the lack of, well, everything in your eyes made him uneasy. He knew as well as you that rest would not come easy, if at all. Your eyes returned to the flames, your gaze becoming unfocused in them. A long moment lasted before you spoke again. “I don’t know what to do anymore.” Your voice was soft, barely more than a whisper. Sandor kept his gaze fixated on your face, waiting for you to continue. “I’ve always known what needed to be done. Cook the venison, bake the bread, serve the ale, keep the tavern running, watch over my-... watch over my brother.” The last few words came out slightly strangled, as though you choked on them. “I am lost now.”

Another long silence fell between you before Sandor reached over and took one of your hands in his own. “You’re not lost. You’re not broken neither.” Your gaze lifted to meet his own. “You’re strong. And I won’t let anything happen to you. I’ll protect you, if you let me.” You were able to offer him a small, watery smile along with a quick nod.

“Thank you, Sandor.” Your eyes returned to the flames for a moment longer before you closed them. “I want nothing more,” you said softly. Again, silence fell over the two of you, nothing to hear aside from the crackling of the fire. Sandor was unsure how long he stared into the dancing flames before your head nodded onto his shoulder and soft snores filled the air.

The next morning, you awoke with a start, images from the past few days haunting your dreams. The sun was just beginning to climb over the horizon, though the chill of night still hung in the air. A shiver ran down your spine as your body began to wake from its slumber. Your tailbone and legs ached as you stood and made your way to the stream. The water was cold and brisk. Dipping your hands in the babbling brook made your arms break out into gooseflesh. You cupped the water in your hands, gently bringing it to your face. The freezing shock was necessary, you felt, before you began on your journey again. When you returned to the fire, Sandor’s eyes were open and sought out your approaching figure.

He said nothing, something you were accustomed to after a few months of knowing him. Sandor would never be considered a particularly chatty man. However, sitting in silence with the large man brought you a sense of peace and calm.

You nodded once at the question in his eyes, and he rose to his feet. There was nothing for you to gather or put away, only the still-smoldering embers of the night’s fire. Sandor kicked dirt over it, if only to ensure that the flames would stay smothered rather than springing back to life. Once again, he guided you to the path with sure steps. There was a bloodlust in his eyes as he tracked the men that he was intent on killing. It didn’t scare you, strangely enough. For once, it made you feel… protected. You couldn’t say that you remember a time when you felt protected. Your brother, gods rest his soul, was strong and protected you from men who were too handsy or too violent. There was always the silent agreement, however, that you were the one that protected your brother. You raised him, cared for him, and made sure he grew to be the man that he was beginning to be. This sensation from Sandor, it lifted a weight off of your shoulders that you had not realized was there. A shadow that had hung from you for as long as you could remember.

Gently, you shook these thoughts from your head. You instead focused on the path ahead, watching and wary of your surroundings. Many hours passed, early morning turning into early afternoon. As though he was indeed a hound picking up a scent, Sandor stopped suddenly. He turned to your left. You turned as well, trying to see or hear or smell whatever it was that he was sensing. After a few moments, you could hear the sound of raucous laughing, as well as cursing. It was enough for Sandor to tug you along gently, despite his long, angry strides.

You walked just behind Sandor, the sound of laughter growing as you continued to walk closer. An ax laid next to a stump and a pile of chopped logs. From where you stood, you could see four men, all somewhat familiar, sitting around a fire. Sandor stopped, looking back at you slightly with a warning in your eyes. It was something you understood quickly. You nodded and took a step back.

That bloodlust was back in his eyes, if it ever left. He grabbed that ax and began stalking towards the group of men. By the time they realized what was happening, it was too late. Sandor swung his ax with a yell at the first man, lopping off his head with ease. It was at this moment that you turned around, hand pressed to your mouth to keep the bile down. It wasn’t that you had a sudden guilt about the silent agreement between you and Sandor to avenge your brother. In fact, you quite enjoyed the ferocity with which he swung his weapon. What made your stomach churn was the memory that it returned to you: your brother’s corpse. The grisly nature of the scene unfolding was something that you found you just could not watch. Squelching flesh as it was maimed by steel still reached your ears. Your eyes closed quickly, taking deep breaths to keep your stomach calm. As the final man whimpered in pain, you could hear Sandor speaking to him. You weren’t sure what Sandor said, his voice too soft to be carried over the wind. You did, however, hear the dying man scream at the giant before him.

All you could hear was further grumbling from Sandor. You did not open your eyes nor did you remove your hand from your mouth. The crunch of leaves and sticks stopped behind you. “It’s over now, little flower.” His hand gently came up to grab your wrist, pulling it away from your face. Your eyes opened slowly, looking up to meet Sandor’s own gaze.

“Did I scare ya?” There was something in his voice that had you shaking your head quickly.

“No, Sandor. I just… I couldn’t watch.” He nodded softly. Your hand drifted up slowly to rest on his scarred cheek. “Thank you.” Your voice was more frail than you expected or wanted it to be. “They met the ends they deserved.”

He nodded his agreement.

“Aye, they did. There are still more. The one who led them, with the yellow cloak. We find him, and your brother will have been avenged.” You nodded, looking up at him with a fierceness in your eyes that made his heart stutter a moment. With no more need to stay, the two of you continued back on your journey.

Surprisingly, you did not walk as far as you thought you would have to before the sounds of men reached your ears again. It was distinctive this time, and much closer than the last group of men had been. Sandor looked down at you, nodded, and then headed towards the noise, ax ready to attack.

To both your own and Sandor’s surprise, the men you sought were standing on barrels with nooses around their necks. A handful of men, no more than ten, stood around them, and one sat above on the tree branch. Swords were partially drawn in caution, until one of the men spoke.

“Clegane.” He was a handsome man, the one who spoke. An eye patch covered his right eye, a crop of sandy hair cropped close to his head. If it weren’t for the setting you found yourself in, you would think him to be some dashing knight that you, as did many of the other girls in your village, dreamt of being swept away by. You stayed close to Sandor, however, almost hiding behind him as a child does behind their mother’s skirts.

“The fuck you doing here?” Another man asked. This one had long hair gathered into a knot atop his head and a deep red cloak hanging around his shoulders. His gaze flicked to you, seemingly amused.

Sandor pointed at the soon-to-be hanged men. “Chasing them.” His hand, still gripping yours, tensed slightly. “You?”

The second man to speak looked back at the men before responding. “Hanging them.” He seemed almost bemused in the way he spoke, as though it were just another sunny afternoon.

“Any particular reason?” Was Sandor’s somewhat irritated response. The clipped conversation had your eyes darting between the men as they spoke.

The first man spoke again. “They’re our men, or they were. They attacked a nearby sept and murdered the villagers. Burnt down a tavern in the next village too. Why do you want them?” His eye flicked to you, as though just realizing that the Hound was not alone. Curiosity made his head quirk to the side, his lone eye seeming to look you up and down. Not in the way you were used to men doing, but in a way that made your skin crawl. Like he was reading your body, your mind, and your soul. There was a part of you that felt sure he could hear every thought in your head.

“Same reason.” Sandor jerked his head to you. “It was her tavern they burnt. Her brother they murdered.” Your hand tensed in his, and he squeezed it gently. “She saved me.”

“Saved you? A surprise anyone would think to do that.” The second man seemed to be quite witty, or at least thought he was. There was a twinkle of mirth in his eyes that you could see, even from your distance.

Sandor looked down at you once again before returning his gaze to the men in front of him. “Aye, it is.” A pause and he started walking towards them intently, you following behind him. “They’re ours.” Sandor said, a statement of fact rather than a request.

The first man moved forward. “It is the Brotherhood’s good name they’ve dragged through the dirt.

“Fuck your name.” Sandor’s response was instant. The two of you came to a stop in front of the men. “They’re ours. I’ve killed ya once before, Dondarrion, happy to do it again.” In response, a man in the small crowd drew an arrow, pointing it at Sandor. You frowned and moved to the side between the archer and Sandor, releasing his hand in the process. “Drop that arrow, you bloody girl.” His eyes remained focused on the man he addressed as Dondarrion. “Tougher girls than you tried to kill me.” Sandor raised his ax, pointing it at the archer but careful of where he knew you stood next to him. A beat of silence and Sandor turned to start stalking towards the archer.

“You can have one of them.” Sandor turned back.

“Two.” It was almost incredulous how they seemed to barter over the lives of these men, who got to kill them. The two men who spoke with Sandor looked at each other. The second one nodded to the first, Dondarrion, who in turn nodded to Sandor.

They turned to the three men whose fates they so casually debated. Sandor went to the one on the farthest left, looked him up and down, and swung his ax back. It was grabbed, however, by the second man before he could bring it down. “No, no, no. We’re not butchers. We hang them.”

“Hanging? “ Sandor’s voice was annoyed. “All over in an instant. Where’s the punishment in that? Not enough after what they did to her brother. What they did to her ho-” Your hand on his arm stopped Sandor in his rant. He looked down to you, where you shook your head. There was no point in arguing. The other four you found died in pain and suffering. It was enough for you. Sandor pursed his lips and shook his head slightly.

“They’ll die.” Was the simple answer from the red-cloaked man, whose hands rested so casually upon the pommel of his sword.

“We all bloody die, except for this one here.” Sandor looked back to Dondarrion, making your brow furrow in confusion. You turned to look at the man as well, still standing a bit behind Sandor. The man looked at you, a small, almost knowing smile upon his lips as he held your gaze. It unsettled you a bit, so you looked back and up at the men facing their deaths. “I’ll only gut one of them.” The bartering nearly made you snort with laughter, but you held it in.

“No.” Dondarrion switched his gaze from you to Sandor as he spoke. The giant man next to you turned and glared at the man.

“Chop off one hand.” This time you couldn’t help the snort of laughter, the gazes of the men around you turning upon you suddenly.

“We gave you two out of the three, out of respect of the lady’s loss. That’s generous.” His eye held a bit of warning for Sandor, telling him not to push his luck. Sandor sighed and looked down at you. You nodded and he turned back to Dondarrion.

“Bunch of nances,” he grumbled. Sandor threw his ax to the ground in annoyance before looking up at the men. “There was a time I would’ve killed all seven of you just to gut these three.” Your brow quirked at his statement but you paid it no further mind.

“You’re getting old, Clegane. Or maybe your lady love has just made you soft.” Again with the mirthful look from the red-cloaked man, whose eyes roamed you freely. His gaze, though holding no malice, roamed over you with far less intensity and far more interest in the decolletage visible from the top of your gown. This was the gaze you were used to from men, and did not unsettle you like the other man’s did.

Sandor’s eyes turned to a deadly glare at the man before turning back to the men soon to be killed. “Well, he’s not.” His foot moved to the barrel that the first man stood on and kicked it from underneath his feet. He dropped suddenly and a sickening crunch was heard as he struggled against the noose. Sandor moved to the next one, turning back to you first with a question in his eyes. Your eyes leveled with his before flitting to the man in the middle.

“Did you kill my brother? With your own sword? The man you hung from a tree with the deer he had killed.” Your steely gaze leveled on the man, a pathetic whimper leaving his mouth. Violently, he shook his head, muttering what you believed to be lies. You had no proof save the the cloak around his neck. The cloak was not something you recognized, but the pins holding it together were. Those were the pins you had bought your brother for his sixteenth nameday. Your hand reached up, grasping the pins gently as you looked at them before you ripped them off. You put your bootclad foot on the edge of the barrel, leveling to meet his eyes once again.

“Mistress, please, I’ll give you anything.” The final words barely escaped his lips before you pushed the barrel over and the air was stolen from his lungs. With this man, there was no snap, only the strained gasp as his throat quickly began to become crushed against the rope. You kept your gaze upon the thrashing man’s face, watching with a deepset frown as his eyes seemed to bulge from his face and the color drained from his face to only be replaced by a blue hue. Dondarrion, who had sidled up next to you, quickly kicked over the barrel of the last man, who also choked. As soon as the third man began his suffering, you stepped back. The two men who Sandor seemed to know watched with varying expressions as Sandor looked at the middle man’s feet. The red-cloaked one seem bemused as Sandor removed the man’s boots and compared them to his own feet, while the other seemed intrigued.

“Got anything to eat?” Sandor finally asked once he pulled the new boots onto his feet. The men nodded and began walking to where they had set up camp. It wasn’t far, but far enough from the road where the deadmen hanged that you could no longer hear the creaking of the rope as their limp bodies swayed in the breeze.

A few men had stayed behind, assumingly to cook the game they had hunted and keep the fires stoked. You sat next to Sandor on a log, your knees drawn close to your chest. A leg of rabbit was in your hand but your gaze stayed on the lapping waves of the lake next to you. Two men sat on the log to your right and the man called Dondarrion on the left. The red-cloaked man soon joined you, a skin of something in his hands. “Enjoying yourself?”

Sandor examined the rabbit bone, cleaning it of its meat. “I prefer chicken.” A small smile graced your lips before you took another bite from the leg.

“Would you like to introduce us to your friend, Clegane? It is the proper thing to do.” The red-cloaked man passed the skin to Sandor, who took a swig of it before handing it to you. You took it, the burn of alcohol bringing a slight relief to you.

“Not really,” he replied. You nudged him with your elbow, though this was only met with a grumble from the man. “(Y/N), that is Beric Dondarrion, leader of this… whatever it is. And that bald cunt with the topknot is Thoros of Myr. This is (Y/N).”

They both nodded to you, which you returned. “A pleasure to make your acquaintance, my lady.”

You snorted and shook your head. “I’m no lady, Ser. But I thank ye, for the food. And the justice.” Though you spoke of it, it didn’t really feel as though justice had been served. Those men were dead, but so was your brother. You wondered if the dull ache in your heart would ever leave, or even lessen at all. The men seemed to be able to see the dull look in your eyes. Sandor’s hand gripped your knee gently, tossing the rabbit bone into the flames. Your eyes met his, and a small smile lifted the corners of your lips. He nodded and turned back to Thoros and Beric, though his hand didn’t leave you. The aforementioned men shared a look, noticing this surprisingly sweet gesture of comfort from the Hound.

Beric nodded at your words before returning his attention to Sandor once again. “You ought to join us.” You listened as Sandor snorted, responding to Beric. At this point, you tuned yourself out of the conversation, the only thing anchoring you to reality was Sandor’s hand on your leg. You finished the rest of the rabbit leg that had been given to you earlier, tossing the bone into the fire.

Your eyes lingered over the water, lapping at the muddy shores. The image of the strangled man kept flashing in your mind, but you steeled yourself against it. He suffered, hopefully more than your brother did. This was not enough, but it had to be. You would make it so.

The men continued to speak, Sandor’s thumb rubbing soft and slow circles against your knee. He stood, giving one reassuring pat to your leg before he walked to the edge of the lake and began to fiddle with his pants. You averted your eyes quickly, attempting to keep a soft blush from your cheeks as your eyes found the first thing that wasn’t Sandor. Unfortunately, that thing was the amused gaze of Thoros of Myr. Suddenly, something he said registered in your brain. “You’ve brought him back? Not healed him, but… how?” The man who called himself a priest chuckled into his drink.

“I prayed.” Beric pulled up his shirt to show you many scars, many of which should have killed him. “Six times, isn’t it?” Beric nodded to Thoros’ question. “I just got lucky. Or he did, I suppose.” Beric dropped his shirt as Sandor returned from relieving himself.

They continued their conversation, though you only payed half a mind to it. The fact that Beric had died six times but was still standing before you, very much alive, was incredible. They continued to talk about fighting, cold winds, and mysterious creatures that sounded like tales that the old women in the village would tell you as a child. “It’s not too late, Clegane.” This was the last thing Beric said to Sandor, silently awaiting an answer to his proposition. Sandor gave a soft sigh, staring at Beric before looking down at you.

His gaze held yours for a long moment, longer than you’ve had before. A soft emotion that you couldn’t quite place entranced you. “Well, what do ya say, lass? Ever been to the North?” You shook your head slightly. “Would ya like to?” A brief moment of clarity washed over you. You accepted Sandor’s offer of protection. You thought that, once your brother’s killers were caught, he would see it as a job done. Or maybe he would simply refuse to bring you, a woman, on what was doubtlessly a dangerous adventure. It seemed that this was not the case. How it seemed, at least to you, was that Sandor was intent on staying with you. And this thought made your heart feel a little brighter than it had before, and a smile painted your mouth. A real smile, one that reminded Sandor of the smiles you would offer him back in the tavern. The smile that always made his heart skip a beat, despite that particular sensation frightening him.

“Aye, I think I would like to see the North. It’s not like there’s much left for me in the Riverlands.” Beric nodded his head to you while Thoros raised his skin and took another drink. Sandor offered you a small, secret smile before taking your fingers in his hand as discreetly as he could. It wasn’t discreet at all, but thankfully, neither Thoros nor Beric felt the need to say anything.

#game of thrones #game of thrones fanfic #reader insert #Sandor Clegane #sandor clegane x reader #sandor the hound clegane #The Hound #the hound x reader #Brotherhood Without Banners #thoros of myr #beric dondarrion #sandor x reader

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o-craven-canto · 4 months

Text

Words borrowed from other languages in English

Very incomplete list, based mostly on The Languages of the World (3rd ed.), Kenneth Katzner, 2002 + a heavy use of Wiktionary. some notes:

Many of these words have passed through multiple languages on their way to English (e.g. Persian -> Arabic -> Spanish -> French -> English); in that case I usually list them under the first language that used them in the same acception as English.

I generally don't include words whose ancestors already existed in Middle English, unless their origin was exotic enough to be interesting.

The vast majority of borrowings are terms very specific to their culture of origin; I generally only include those that are either very well known amng English-speakers, or of general use outside that culture.

INDO-EUROPEAN FAMILY (West and South Eurasia)

Hellenic Greek: angel, chronometer, democracy, encyclopedia, geography, graphic, hieroglyphic, homogeneous, hydraulic, meter, microscope, monarchy, philosophy, phobia, photography, telephone, and way too many other scientific or technical terms to count

Germanic Afrikaans: aardvark, apartheid, fynbos, rooibos, springbok, trek, veld, wildebeest Danish: Lego, simper Dutch: brandy, bumpkin, coleslaw, cookie, deck, dock, dollar, landscape, freight, furlough, maelstrom, noodle, Santa Claus, waffle, walrus, yacht German: aurochs, bildungsroman, blitzkrieg, cobalt, dachsund, eigenvector, ersatz, gestalt, hamburger, hinterland, kindergarten, kohlrabi, lager, poodle, quark, sauerkraut, wanderlust, yodel, zeitgeist Icelandic: eider, geyser Norwegian: auk, fjord, krill, lemming, narwhal, slalom, troll Swedish: lek, mink, ombudsman, rutabaga, smorgasbord, tungsten Yiddish: bupkis, chutzpah, kvetch, putz, schlemiel, schmaltz, schmooze, schtick, spiel, tchotchke

Slavic Czech: robot Russian: fedora, glasnost, intelligentsia, kefir, mammoth, pogrom, samizdat, steppe, sputnik, troika, tsar, vodka Serbo-Croat: cravat, paprika

Celtic [many of these words are shared between the two languages] Irish: bog, galore, gaol, geas, glen, orrery, shamrock, slob, whiskey Scottish Gaelic: bard, bunny, cairn, clan, loch, ptarmigan, ?scone, slogan

Italic-Romance †Latin: [way too many] French: [way too many] Italian: allegro, aria, balcony, bandit, bravo, calamari, casino, chiaroscuro, crescendo, contrapposto, fresco, gazette, ghetto, gusto, inferno, lava, mafia, malaria, pants, quarantine, tempo, umbrella, vendetta, volcano Portuguese: baroque, brocade, cachalot, cobra, creole, flamingo, petunia, pimento, zebra Spanish: abalone, armadillo, bolas, bonanza, canyon, cargo, chupacabra, cigar, cilantro, embargo, gaucho, guerrilla, junta, manta, mesa, mustang, patio, pueblo, rodeo, siesta, tornado, vanilla

Iranian Persian: bazaar, caravan, checkmate, chess, crimson, dervish, divan, jackal, jasmine, khaki, kiosk, lemon, lilac, musk, orange, pajama, paradise, satrap, shawl, taffeta

Indo-Aryan †Sanskrit: brahmin, Buddha, chakra, guru, karma, mantra, opal, swastika, yoga Bengali: dinghy, jute, nabob Hindi: bandana, bungalow, cheetah, chintz, chutney, coolie, cot, dungaree, juggernaut, lacquer, loot, rajah, pundit, shampoo, tom-tom, thug, veranda Marathi: mongoose Romani: hanky-panky, pal, shiv Sinhalese: anaconda, beriberi, serendipity, tourmaline

DRAVIDIAN FAMILY (Southern India)

Kannada: bamboo Malayalam: atoll, calico, copra, jackfruit, mahogany, mango, pagoda, teak Tamil: curry, mulligatawny, pariah Telugu: bandicoot

URALIC FAMILY (Northern Eurasia)

Finnic Finnish: sauna Saami: tundra

Samoyedic Nenets: parka

Ugric Hungarian: biro, coach, goulash, hussar, puszta, tokay

VASCONIC FAMILY (Northern Pirenees)

Basque: chaparral, chimichurri, silhouette

TURKIC FAMILY (Central Eurasia)

†Old Turkic: cossack, yurt Tatar: ?stramonium Turkish: baklava, balaclava, bergamot, caftan, caviar, harem, janissary, kebab, kismet, minaret, pastrami, sherbet, tulip, yoghurt Yakut: taiga

MONGOLIC FAMILY (Mongolia and surrounding areas)

Mongol: horde, khan, ?valerian

SINO-TIBETAN FAMILY (China and Southeast Asia)

Tibeto-Burman Tibetan: lama, panda, tulpa, yak, yeti

Sinitic [Chinese languages closely related, not always clear from which a borrowing comes] Hokkien: ?ketchup, sampan, tea Mandarin: chi, dao, dazibao, gung-ho, kaolin, oolong, shaolin, shanghai, yin-yang Min Nan: nunchaku Yue (Cantonese): chop suey, dim sum, kowtow, kumquat, lychee, shar-pei, ?typhoon, wok

TUNGUSIC FAMILY (Eastern Siberia)

Evenki: pika, shaman

KOREANIC FAMILY (Koreas)

Korean: bulgogi, chaebol, hantavirus, kimchi, taekwondo

JAPONIC FAMILY (Japan)

Japanese: banzai, bonsai, dojo, emoji, geisha, ginkgo, hikikomori, honcho, ikebana, kamikaze, karaoke, koi, kudzu, manga, origami, pachinko, rickshaw, sake, samurai, sensei, soy, sushi, tofu, tsunami, tycoon, zen

AUSTRONESIAN FAMILY (maritime Southeast Asia and Oceania)

Western Malayan Javanese: ?junk [ship] Malay: amok, cockatoo, compound [building], cootie, durian, kapok, orangutan, paddy, pangolin, rattan, sarong

Barito Malagasy: raffia

Phlippinic Cebuano: dugong Ilocano: yo-yo Tagalog: boondocks

Oceanic Hawai'ian: aloha, hula, luau, poi, wiki Maori: kauri, kiwi, mana, weta Marshallese: bikini Tahitian: pareo, tattoo Tongan: taboo

TRANS-NEW GUINEAN FAMILY (New Guinea)

Fore: kuru

PAMA-NYUNGAN FAMILY (Australia)

Dharug: boomerang, corroboree, dingo, koala, wallaby, wobbegong, wombat, woomera Guugu Yimithirr: kangaroo, quoll Nyungar: dunnart, gidgee, quokka Pitjantjatjara: Uluru Wathaurong: bunyip Wiradjuri: kookaburra Yagara: dilly bag

AFRO-ASIATIC FAMILY (North Africa and Near East)

Coptic: adobe

Berber Tachelhit: argan

Semitic †Punic: Africa Arabic: albatross, alchemy, alcohol, alcove, alfalfa, algebra, alkali, amber, arsenal, assassin, candy, coffee, cotton, elixir, gazebo, gazelle, ghoul, giraffe, hashish, harem, magazine, mattress, monsoon, sofa, sugar, sultan, syrup, tabby, tariff, zenith, zero Hebrew: amen, behemoth, cabal, cherub, hallelujah, kibbutz, kosher, manna, myrrh, rabbi, sabbath, Satan, seraph, shibboleth

NIGER-CONGO FAMILY (Subsaharan Africa)

unknown: cola, gorilla, tango

Senegambian Wolof: banana, fonio, ?hip, ?jigger [parasite], karite, ?jive, yam

Gur-Adamawa Ngbandi: Ebola

Kwa Ewe: voodoo

Volta-Niger Igbo: okra Yoruba: gelee [headgear], mambo, oba, orisha

Cross River Ibibio: calypso

Bantu Lingala: basenji Kikongo: ?chimpanzee, ?macaque, ?zombie Kimbundu: ?banjo, Candomblé, gumbo, macumba, tanga Swahili: askari, Jenga, kwanzaa, safari Xhosa: Ubuntu Zulu: impala, mamba, vuvuzela

KHOE-KWADI FAMILY (Southwest Africa)

Khoekhoe (Hottentot): gnu, kudu, quagga

ESKIMO-ALEUT FAMILY (Arctic America)

Greenlandic Inuit: igloo, kayak Inuktikut: nunatak

ALGIC FAMILY (Eastern Canada and northeast USA)

†Proto-Algonquin: moccasin, opossum, skunk Cree: muskeg, pemmican Mikmaq: caribou, toboggan Montagnais: husky Narragansett: ?powwow, sachem Ojibwe: chipmunk, totem, wendigo, woodchuck Powhatan: persimmon, raccoon

SALISHAN FAMILY (Pacific coast at the USA-Canada border)

Chehalis: chinook Halkomelem: sasquatch Lushootseed: geoduck

IROQUOIAN FAMILY (Eastern North America)

Cherokee: sequoia

SIOUAN FAMILY (Central USA)

Lakota: teepee

MUSKOGEAN FAMILY (Southeast USA)

Choctaw: bayou

UTO-AZTECAN FAMILY (Southwest USA and north Mexico)

Nahuatl: atlatl, avocado, chili, cocoa, coyote, chocolate, guacamole, hoazin, mesquite, ocelot, quetzal, tamale, tegu, tomato O'odham (Pima): jojoba Shoshone: chuckwalla Yaqui: ?saguaro

MAYAN FAMILY (Southern Mexico and Guatemala)

Yucatec Maya: cenote, Chicxulub

ARAWAKAN FAMILY (Caribbeans and South America)

†Taino: barbecue, cannibal, canoe, cassava, cay, guava, hammock, hurricane, iguana, maize, manatee, mangrove, maroon, potato, savanna, tobacco Arawak: papaya

CARIBAN FAMILY (Caribbean coast of South America)

unknown: curare Galibi Carib: caiman, chigger, pawpaw, peccary, yucca

QUECHUAN FAMILY (Andes)

Quechua: ?Andes, caoutchouc, coca, condor, guano, llama, mate, poncho, puma, quinine, vicuna

AYMARAN FAMILY (Andes)

Aymara: alpaca, chinchilla

TUPIAN FAMILY (Brazil)

[borrowings are often shared between these two languages] †Old Tupi: ananas, arowana, Cayenne [pepper], jaguar, manioc, piranha, tapioca Guarani: cougar, maracuja, Paraguay, petunia, toucan

CREOLE LANGUAGES (worldwide, mixed origin)

English-derived Chinese Pidgin English: chopstick, long time no see, pidgin, taipan Jamaican Creole: dreadlocks, reggae

Chinook-derived Chinook Jargon: potlatch

EDIT 08-01-24: added lots more examples, especially African, Asian, and North American languages. Still not done. EDIT 17-01-24: finished adding examples, more or less. EDIT: 18-02-24: apparently not (cheetah).

#languages #history #how beauteous mankind is #feel free to add more

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god-mouths · 6 months

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i wanna hear about,,,, literally any of ur guys actually i love hearing abt ur guys :] if thats too vague pick me a guy and tell me about their inspirations/how you came up with their stories/designs/traits!! i think your stuff is so fascinating and i wanna know how that rotates in ur brain

OOOG…. Thank youe…. I’ve realized a few patterns in how I tell my stories lately so I do want to go over those! I’ll be using yvette my buddy my pal to demonstrate this because he’s the best example. ( later edit : Actually I have more stuff to talk about I’ll number it)

1. I’ve noticed a ton of my story material is based on how the people around us or our surroundings effect us. The cycles and whatnot. For yvette he starts out as a yellow blood and, in trying to forcefully change the oppression imposed on him from his surroundings, actually sort of just continues it by killing a close friend of his. That friend ends up haunting him. Teed hee

Idk if the pictures will come across well since I’m on mobile but to break down this specific piece the colors used on REPENT and the tapeworms in the back are actually the colors of his old psionics before he did all that mad scientist crap to change himself. OLD ART!! AUGHH AU AUGGHH

Is it a little stupid that he changes his own blood color? Yes. But homestuck as it’s own is so beyond stupid that I can do whatever I want I’m a scavenger a critter.

But by changing his blood color yvette essentially locks away his psionics (there must be something very specific to yellow blood to make the psionics work to me) siphoning them off into the trident he wields. He can’t get rid of ALL of his original blood, so the yellow just stays dormant. Should he choose to use his psionics in this new state he’s made for himself he risks fucking up his organs even further.

Anyways it takes a human child with the same exact problems as him to realize Heyyy…..maybe what I did and have been doing is a little fucked. Which it was. But it was the only thing he could have done, in his eyes, because the alternative was getting hooked up to a machine for the rest of his life.

At the end of the story (? Fan venture?) he does break out his psionics again which causes the blood to mix. He’s redeemed but he’s not nearly as cool anymore. Big bummer

2. colors always mean things more often than not in my art. I am a “why is the curtain blue” type of asshole, and I love to do it. For instance in MATSC green is for heaven and blue is for hell, but they have more than just that meaning. Green is confinement and being trapped and whatnot, while blue is freedom. Still kind of iffy on what purple means but it may mean the same as green. We’re figuring it out. In LEM I’m also still working on it, but blue is a mainly bad color there while orange is instead the signifier of good things. As for paradigm shift it’s more of a character-to-character basis. They all get their own specific colors. I loveeee colors colors colors :)

3. I LOVE writing villains. It is my personal goal with every villain I write to see how genuinely horrible I can make the villain as a person and still get people to enjoy reading them. It’s so fun, I mean it. Like the type of guy that would absolutely stump tumblr’s famous reading incomprehension. I love it I LOVE IT

4. This isn’t about my stories overall, just one, but I finally finished the first draft for act one of paradigm shift which I am PSYCHED about. I sent it out to a few people for feedback- only a select few people, though. If it were any other story I’d send it to a wider range but it is IMPERATIVE that my buddies that experienced max first hand when we were little 12 year old kids doing stupid roleplays get to see it first. They know him very well, and Vice versa. I’m so excited. (Air horns) (yippee sound!)

#fingers crossed this posts the wifi on this train is poops #oc asks #about ocs #thank mew…#writing #asks

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cruelmiracles · 26 days

Text

A veil of mist covered the orange-colored sky, obscuring the porthole. Instinctively, I hunched myself up as much as my inflated suit would allow, but almost at once I realized that I was passing through cloud. Then, as though sucked upwards, the cloud-mass lifted; I was gliding, half in light, half in shadow, the capsule revolving upon its own vertical axis.

Stanislaw Lem ǁ Solaris (1961)

#stanislaw lem #solaris #bookshelf #quotes

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lem-argentum · 11 months

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good morningggg <33 :]

#lem text #it is rainingggg <333 #redyed my hair yesterday so the pink n orange r back at full vibrancy ^^ for now. it’ll go back to lemprom colors in time. <3 #i hope u all have a good day :) <33

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little-miss-dilf-lover · 1 year

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Hi once again!!😅🥰 Can I please request a Tangerine x fem!reader where she’s Tangerine’s gf, like a sister to Lemon, and she’s their partner? The three of them are really close.🥺🧡🍊💛🍋 She is also a mutant who can create and control the elements + her eyes and hair change color when she’s creating/controlling the different elements (Like blue with water/ice, red with fire, green with Earth, and idk what color for air). She doesn’t have to carry a weapon (although Tangerine has most definitely taught her how to use one, along with hand-to-hand combat…) Also she tends to make it out of missions mostly unscathed, unlike Lemon and Tangerine who tend to get kinda beat up, mostly because people can’t really get close enough to Y/n to get a hit in😂 Like the three of them going on the Bullet Train job, Lemon and Tangerine looking gradually more and more ragged, especially at the end, but Y/n looking like nothing has happened 😂 Also Y/n saving Tan with her powers from accidentally being shot by Ladybug, as well as fighting the White Death’s men (alongside Tan, Lem, The Son, Ladybug, and The Father)… Ladybug would so be like, “OH MY GOSH, WHAT IS HAPPENING” when she attacks him with her powers to save Tan and also fight the bad guys 😂

hiii! I kind of used jean grey as inspo😭 I feel like the ending might be rushed, but I hope it’s okay. thank you for requesting, hope you like it 💌

the mutant gene (tangerine x fem reader)

wc || 1.4k

warnings || weapons, minor gory description of a death

masterlist + rules

taglist

Over the years you have been on countless missions with the twins and collectively built quite a reputation. But, what many people don’t know, is that you are actually a mutant. You don’t like to show people your powers and you don’t often use them. The twins knew about them, but for the most part, you liked to hide them. Usually wearing gloves as a way to block your powers from escaping your hands.

When you were a teenager you had involuntary experiments on you, ultimately they unlocked a special gene that granted you superhuman abilities. You used to feel embarrassed about your powers, but when you met the twins, you quickly learned not to be ashamed of them.

So now, you loved them. You loved the way you could control the elements and how your eyes and hair would change accordingly.

For the better part of missions, you’d fight with fists and weapons and you would only use your powers when absolutely necessary- sometimes it felt like cheating, just because it was too easy to defeat the enemy.

Your favourite power was fire, just as it was the coolest; you’d embody it and beautiful waves of orange and red would radiate from your whole body. The other elements were just as cool, air manipulation was another one of your favourites. You could create large gusts of air from your hands. These were usually the powers that were most useful during assignments.

You were usually pretty lucky during missions, you’d often come out looking the same as when you went in. Your hair would still be as pretty as when you started, and unlike the twins who would be battered and bruised- you were not.

Cutting forward to today, your mission was to escort The Son and ransom money to Kyoto, where they would be collected from The White Death. Everything had gone tits up during this assignment, it started when a guy stole the briefcase, but you later learned that his name is Ladybug and he is a bit of an idiot. There was also a woman who tried to kill The White Death’s son, luckily you had managed to stop it as you were petrified of The Son getting killed in your possession. Who knows what his dad would do?

You had been running around the train constantly, trying to keep tabs on everyone and who they were fighting against. Rushing around the carriages trying to maintain the chaos, but then you spot Tangerine in between a face-off against the young woman from earlier, holding her at gunpoint. You trusted your boyfriend’s judgement, so you knew that she probably deserved it. Watching idly by to keep an eye out.

The case snatcher from earlier walked into the carriage, making incoherent conversation between Tangerine and The Prince. You didn’t like how this was going so you decided to interject. Without thinking, ripping your gloves off to direct a large gust of air at Ladybug’s hand, knocking the gun from his grip.

Rushing over to your boyfriend's side. “Oh my goodness, what happened?” You anxiously gush, checking over his bloody face.

“That twat pushed me off the train.” Spitting towards the very confused guy.

“OH MY GOD- WHAT THE HELL WAS THAT?”

“Shut up one second.” Holding a hand towards Ladybug. “Where’s Lemon? I thought he was with you?”

“She killed him.”

No.

Wrapping your hand around Tangerine’s head to bring him closer to you, stroking over the back of his neck as his face borrowed further into your neck.

“You killed him?!” You retort, glaring at the girl as your eyes began glowing deep orange.

“What- no- no. I would never. The guy that kidnapped me did it- he did it. Please-?”

“Enough.” You snap, holding Tan closer. Right now you felt like a protective mother bear and desperately wanted to defend your family. “Where is his body?” You sadly ask.

“Uh- in… in the toilets.”

“Hey? Tan, I want to say goodbye to him.” Brushing down his back. “You’re both coming too.” You scoff, pointing a finger towards them.

Your heart shattered when The Prince opened the door, looking down at Lemon covered in blood. You hated to think of the pain he was in before he died.

Suddenly Lemon’s mouth widens as he lets out the loudest yawn. You and Tan fall to your knees to hug your partner, holding him tight.

“Oh, you had the water.” Ladybug says from behind.

“We thought you were dead.” You and Tangerine say simultaneously, checking over Lemons's face.

“No. But that bitch shot me.”

A groaning comes from beside Lemon and you see the guy from earlier doubled over in pain.

“She’s crazy.” He groans.

But when you turn around you see that she had completely vanished, turning your attention back to Lemon to help him up.

“The White Death is coming, we got to sort a plan out.” Ladybug says flustered as he paced.

The five of you re-enter the carriage to discuss a potential plan, but then you see an older gentleman sitting next to your seats.

“Yuchi.” The man says sweetly, looking at the guy next to you.

“Father.”

You all had about five minutes to discuss some sort of plan to win against this Russian nutjob.

You had leant that the gentleman goes by the name of The Elder and he is also the father of Yuchi.

As you were all patching each other up, you decided that you wanted to consider mentioning your enhanced abilities, thinking that you’d surely win against The White Death.

“I know how to win against him.” You quietly say to the group. “Wait a second- where’s the kid gone?” Another thought interrupting your original one. “Actually no, I don’t care right now. I think I can beat The White Death.”

“How?” Yuchi mumbles as he reaches for the bandages.

“I’ll need all of you. ALL of you.” Looking between the twins. “To get to the far end of the train, yeah… and get off- and leave.”

“We’re not leaving you.” Lemon interjects.

“How will you beat The White Death?” Yuchi asks.

“I just can, okay. We’re nearly at Kyoto, so you gotta go.” Ushering the group away.

“It’s freaky, man… she can move stuff with her mind.” Ladybug whispers to Yuchi.

“You’re in charge, get everyone as far as possible.” You tell Tangerine, kissing him sweetly. “Chop chop.”

Hugging the twins once more before they left.

That’s him?

Train coming to a halt at Kyoto station, you see a guy sitting on the bench with many guards scattered around him. You kind of felt out of your depth right now.

You were trying to think of a strategic way to wipe out everyone, also without causing harm to everything else around you. You could set every one on fire? But that might make the trains explode. Or you could manipulate the ground so that they can fall in? But that might not work and would probably ruin cities.

You wanted to take out the easy ones first, hiding as you direct orbs of air at his pawns, sending them flying. Doing the same thing to several more, knocking them down and out of the way.

Looking over you see your team creeping in, they were sneaking up to attack them from behind. You wanted to keep the enemy's eyes forward, so you walk out onto the station glowing dark orange as you levitate; allowing your team the perfect opportunity to strike.

During the plan discussion, The Elder had told you all what The White Death had done to his family, so you knew that it should be him to take out his old ‘friend’.

Turning your attention towards the minions, taking them out with beams of air from your hands. Watching over the twins, making sure they don’t get themselves hurt, occasionally knocking out the ones that got too close to them.

Everyone else was down, it was just a matter of taking out The White Death- for good. The rest of your team rush over to help The Elder, keeping The White Death still as his arms got sliced off. It was pretty graphic, but luckily you have seen much worse.

The Elder makes one last incision to his throat, sending The White Death’s head rolling along the floor.

It was revolting, but finally, you had won. Running over to Lemon and Tangerine, quickly wrapping them in a tight hug. “You were meant to go.”

“Too bad, love. Not getting rid of us that easy…We’re taking that money and putting it all on red.” Tangerine says triumphantly.

“Fuck yeah we will.”

“Good job guys, but I don’t ever wanna see you again.” Looking at the other guys who were sitting on the bench, clearly exhausted.

Tan laces his hand into yours as you walk off, the three of you strolling side by side into the Kyoto sunrise. You didn’t even want to look at the mess behind, you just wanted to get the hell out of there. You were just glad that your family weren’t hurt.

#tangerine #tangerine x reader #tangerine and lemon #tangerine x you #tangerine fanfiction #tangerine blurb #tangerine bullet train #bullet train #lemon and tangerine #bullet train 2022 #tanger

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