#did you miss that the entire fucking continent exists with more countries than just fucking england??

[skybluekoneko]

Oh wow tumblr acting as if england is the only women's team where women had to fight for their place in sports 🤦‍♀️🤦‍♀️

#did you miss that the entire fucking continent exists with more countries than just fucking england?? #man english people can be so egoistical and arrogant... #not everyone obv but im just reminded again #while literally half of europe isnt even playing at european championships #and the other half was playing the tournament and fought to get a proper place in football #gosh i wish i were better at finding the right words on why i hate the english mentality here so much lol

[audible--silence]

“I’m a walking talking never shutting the fuck up tequila tour”

-

The mexican taxi driver sings along to marion ryan as we drive to the airport in comfortable silence. Mexico I’ll miss you

-

Whatd mexico teach u

I learned how to make friends, older with less patience

I learned to be uncomfortable again

I learned to learn is important

I learned that the good times need effort and risk

—

The sun hits different in Guatemala

-

A country that makes no sense

That works hard but never works

Rich in culture but poor of pocket

Maddeningly massive and chronically chaotic yet personal and real and increasingly sensible

“You cant fix someone that doesn’t feel love”

An old bar with enough charm to help you forget what goes on outside those walls is all you need to be reminded of the joys of pure judgement

At least they make money

People on the street drunk and high

Passed out

Not ok

Walking with strangers

People pissing on the street

Fireworks sounding horribly like gunshots

Old ladys speaking in Spanish

Cobblestone roads damn near claiming my ankles

My laptop in my bag

My hostel about to close

$140 spent on a girl i never had a shot with

What am I doing

Why am I knowingly wasting my time

“So his injuries totaled 2.2 million and he gets to the end of all his surgeries and looks and tells me, I finally feel like my life is worth something”

overheard conversation of annoying Americans

“Yeah a heart attack aint that bad, it hurts for three minutes then youre done”

same guys, about the same guy

“Did you get a moscow mule or tea?”

The guilt that I feel from traveling

To a place where my very existence here

Indicates my privilege.

I feel a resentment

A judging

An envy

I dont know even think thats the people

I think thats my own guilt.

To see people with nothing

And even those better off

Struggling

Never to be capable of even dreaming of the life i lead

Here an now

In their country

Let alone back in mine.

To know that all around the world, people would consider me the luckiest of the luckiest.

And they’re right

And i know it.

I should act like it.

We all should.

When life gives u lemons, give em to someone else as a blessing - bens wisdom

“I fall in a little bit of love with a lot of people, all of the time” - Not Wife - Shakey Graves

“And the entire continent of South America said “oh fuck”

“Yeahhhhh i think you might be un poco fucked in that case”

Say for example you decide to treat your very treatable cancer with orange juice and yoga, as an adult, you’re within your rigjts to do so

He came, he saw, he said nah

10/10 doctors say you should dance until the room stops spinning

Gatorade and lollipops

Ketamine always makes me sneeze

You cant remember all of it

Which is what makes it so damn appealing

The sound of a rooster in Guatemala, the way a sweet old abuela says your name when she needs help and the way the light graces the mountains and the lake

I wont remember it all,

So I better enjoy it now

Being a woman sucks but at least i dont have to contend with balding

Your dungarees get more action than you do

Do you reckon they race babies or just frogs n shit?

People kept saying that like “wow good on you!” But in reality we’re actually just idiots you know?

“Fucking Jermain!”

“I dont have a bank account. I’m an economist”

“If i drink too much I’ll just fall asleep”

“I wish i did”

“I wish you did too”

You know what

As i sit here reading my old notes

I take it back

I wasn’t bad

I was tired

Sore

And hurt

“You’re a good person”

Says the sweetest, most beautiful person I’ve met in a minute

With a crowd full of people I brought together

In a situation not unusual to me.

I cant be that bad

I just need to remind myself that i am good

And remind myself how to focus on one person.

Instead of every fuckn mf that calls themselves a model

[sitaarein]

Desi rep

okay so this is partly inspired because of a whole bunch of incredibly, incredibly dumb asks my friend has gotten but it is ALSO, more importantly, because I am sick of the shit I have seen so here, have a not very concise post about what to do and what to avoid if you are writing desi rep (this can also be applied outside of writing I guess??)

If you give a character an Indian name and call it a day, I will actually come and murder you. For starters, India has a whole CULTURE that you have very much decided to ignore and that. is. not. okay. If you can give your white characters all the attention and details and research in the world, you can do the same for your desi characters. Secondly, the word “desi” is used to describe so much more than simply Indian. Wanna know which countries qualify as desi? India, Nepal, Bangladesh, Pakistan, Bhutan, Sri Lanka, and the Maldives. Don’t you even dare assume desi=indian and leave it at that.    

This point ties into what I just said about desi people. Please, I am actually begging you, include more than Indian characters if you want to include south asia in your writing. I am Pakistani and I am so so sick of my identity being erased wherever I look. NOT that I have anything against India or Indians. It is simply the ignorance of people assuming the whole of South Asia is simply India that is supremely horrible to see

 This is based off of personal experience. People actually think that either a) India isn’t a part of Asia or b) there are no countries in South Asia aside from India or c) both of those incredibly ignorant views. And all I can say is: what. the. fuck. Do not do that. Indians are Asians. Pakistanis are Asians. Nepalis are Asians. Bengalis are Asians. Bhutanese are Asians. Sri Lankans are Asians. Maldivians are Asians. If you do not think so, then that is actually just racist of you. Don’t talk to me until you’ve looked at a map.

Another personal point that just.. hurts. Do you know what the Muslim population of the Indian subcontinent is? (The Indian subcontinent is made up of all the countries mentioned above) The answer is: around 600 million. Out of 1.7 billion people, 600 million of them are Muslims. Put into perspective, its not a lot. But the Muslims have a whole separate identity. A separate culture. The whole reason Pakistan even came into existence is because the Muslims of the subcontinent were so fundamentally different. So if you have a desi based country or continent, please, please take a moment to think about the different cultures. 

The above point, but apply it to Sikhs and Brahmins and the numerous identities I do not even know of. They’re all unique. Look them up. Don’t just call a stereotyped culture “Indian” and leave it there.

Speaking of culture: Just. Do your bloody research. Each of the countries in the Indian subcontinent have different national languages, and then INSIDE the country there are multiple dialects based on areas and tribes. Going to take Pakistan as an example: Our national language is Urdu, but the language most commonly spoken by far is Punjabi. So the average Pakistani you meet is almost definitely bilingual, and if they have had an english education, they are almost definitely trilingual. Same goes for all the other countries, I’m sure

Speaking of culture, part 2: there is literally too much to talk about for me to cover it all in one post, so I’m just gonna say: all desi countries are very different to each other, and inside the countries the various provinces are incredibly different. In addition to the changes in language, you’ll also get different staple dishes (even though most the food of the Indian subcontinent are the same in every country, you get some kind of twist that is always uniquely of that country or region or province’s), different folk tales, different poetry and literature, different icons and heroes- the list goes on. So, once more: Do your research.   

I mentioned food briefly in the point above which reminded me of something else: I resent the fact that food that is pretty much native to the whole subcontinent is simply called... Indian. Once again, this is absolutely NOT out of hate for India, it is because that is such a generalization.  Its because by calling it Indian you are effectively dismissing 5 other countries who eat and cook the same food because it belongs to them just as much as it does to the Indians. If you want a general name, call it desi food. 

this point is... less serious than the others, its just something I find fun and could use more of in media. Desi people are obsessed with sports. Like, obsessed. Some of us pretty much breathe cricket. I just think its an interesting fact and pretty much a part of culture at this point, so I’d like to see the stereotypical desi uncle who wouldn’t miss a match for the life of him every once in a while

Back to seriousness. If you even bloody imply that your desi character is violent, I will duct tape you to a chair and make you watch dramatic pakistani dramas on repeat (it won’t be fun, trust me). I have had it with South Asia being portrayed as a terrorist hub. Do not even think of conforming to such a stereotype. I will literally hunt you down and make sure you never, ever even think of doing so ever again. 

Also: If you bloody dare imply that we are, in any way, backward, I will once more carry out the above punishments. Stop. Just stop.

Oh man, talk about the history of the Indian subcontinent. Talk about the heritage. Have you like... seen the architecture????? There’s more than just the Taj Mahal here my dudes. Forget all the “dangerous countries” bullshit. Focus on the brilliance of, well, everything, instead. 

Oh oh speaking of: Have you guys heard of mohenjo daro?? Look it up. There’s some fantasy/mystery potential there. Use it for whatever, it would make my day

Time to talk about geography. So first off: Mountains. So many amazing mountains. Both Everest and K-2 (the tallest and second tallest) are located here. The Himalayas are located here. Pretty amazing, eh? Second off: Deserts. Do you know how many mineral riches are hidden in those? Its amazing. Third off: Rivers. Oh man the rivers. Did you know the Indus river is full of blind dolphins native to the Indus river only? Did you know they’re very very endangered? Find some funds for them while you’re looking up info about them, btw. Also another sea animal native to South Asia which has pretty much been driven out of Pakistan and Myanmar: the gharial. look them up too, seriously. That would be great. Fourth off: The plains. Do you have any idea how fertile our soil is? Because. Its insane. And there’s so much more about the geography and topography of the Indian subcontinent, guys. Look it all up. I’m so sick of vague desert land descriptions for the Indian subcontinent.

Religion. Now this overlaps with culture a lot, since quite a few people choose to define their religion as their culture, but we’re still touching upon it. This is pretty vague, but there are definitely at least over seven. Each comes with its entirely unique practices. Do not even try having a desi character who is Sikh but knows nothing about Sikhism, or Muslim but knows nothing about Islam, because even if they aren’t practicing, they grow up learning about whatever religion their family practices, most of the time. 

If you’re desi, feel free to add on whatever you think is relevant here. If you’re not, shut the fuck up. This is not about you, and it will never be. Feel free to reblog, but kindly keep your comments or opinions to yourself if they are not in agreement with all the above points or promises to be less ignorant.

My inbox is open if you have any questions. Desi people let me know if I said something wrong or offensive and I promise I’ll do my best to correct it

#this whole thing took me. a whopping three hours #god damn #anyways y'all better fucking read the whole thing because I have been PISSED for some time and today just. was the final straw #also sb pls #zuha's [un]original bakwaas #important #desi shit and whatnot

[jeonggukkiepabo]

HWASAN [MYG] 🐉

SUMMARY: Yoongi, the only dragon hybrid to exist, has done a lot to escape the life he has been put into. He killed those who held him just to run away, to have the chance of living a life he’s been longing to have for years. Even after switching continents, they seem to be after him, hunting him. When he meets you, he knows you’re one of them and there’s only one way to survive - to kill you.

GENRE: smut  🐉 angst  🐉 action  🐉 fluff-ish

WORD COUNT: 11k

WARNINGS: enemies to lovers, mentions of murder and blood, violence, Yoongi rides a motorbike, cursing, blowjobs, fingering, Yoongi has claws and fangs, temperature play, his cum tastes different, choking, fighting for dominance, unprotected sex, breeding kink, Yoongi is stubborn but soft, fox hybrid!taehyung and i’m so soft for him

AUTHOR’S NOTE: It is finally here, my part of The Hybrid Collab! I can’t even tell you how excited I am to post this after months of planning. I think everyone agrees with me that the thought of Dragon!Yoongi is too much to handle. I had this idea in my mind for as long as Daechwita has been around now-it just took me a while to write it sksks.

I’d also love to thank  @spicykoreantatertots​ & @yeojaa​ for betaing this fic and helping me with it.  @kimtaehyunq​ Mags, tysm for designing this beautiful banner for me! Also; thanks for listening to my rambling and keeping up with me and this fic. It was so much fun cooperating your Taehyung into it, I love him. :(

NOW LET’S GET STARTED.

Running was all Yoongi had done for months now.  Running away from those he killed.  Running away from those who wanted him to get killed.  Running away from those that held him ever since he was little, that taught him how to fight and kill. Running away from those that made him a murderer. Running away from Kkangpae.

Yoongi hates running (especially running away), but he had no other choice. He had to leave his home country behind and never go back, finding himself a new place to live instead. He should feel guilty,  he regretted all his actions but by now, he only feels relief. 

Kkangpae treated him like a fucking animal, like a worthless pet. He wasn’t treated like any human being should be treated; he didn’t even have a real bed.

All because Yoongi was a dragon hybrid, the rarest hybrid species on earth. 

The lack of volcanoes in South Korea were the reason why Yoongi was highly valuable to the Kkangpae, because active volcanoes were one of the requirements for dragons to get born. As far as Yoongi knows, there’s only one volcano in South Korea: Ch’uga-ryong, a volcano that hasn’t been active for around five hundred years. 

Around that time, the dragon species became extinct due to a natural disaster that Yoongi didn’t know anything about - because he was still sleeping peacefully in his comfortable egg, buried deep beneath the lava. 

Yoongi’s mother, a purebred dragon, died during the catastrophe, and she was not able to protect the egg. Because of this, his body was not able to develop the way it should have. His egg was found hundreds of years later by scientists. They used newly invented technology to develop the preserved egg and mix human genes into it. Shortly after that process was complete, Yoongi hatched.

Yoongi has never met another dragon hybrid in his life. Maybe he was the only one in existence, maybe other scientists created them the same way as he was created. Even if they existed, they’re probably held the same way he was held - captured by some sort of underground gang and treated like shit.

Yoongi hated it, hated the way he wasn’t even a real creature, that he was built instead of born and that he was sold to Kkangpae to be their guard dog. Even though he was a dragon, well he was supposed to be a dragon, those fucking scientists pulled some weird Jurassic Park shit on him. Did humans even believe in dragons? To most of them he was nothing more than a myth, some creature from a fairytale.

Yoongi almost screams in frustration as his memories hit him once again. The night he decided to end it all, to kill everyone he finds comes back into his vision almost every time he closes his eyes. Because hell, he was a great fighter, the best assassin anyone could ever train and he never failed an attempt of murder. Ever since then, his nights are based on either nightmares or hectic rides on his bike, this is why he lives on coffee and energy drinks even though they're too sweet for his taste, they keep him awake. If he stops to sleep, the memories, the dreams will return in full force.

During that time, Yoongi tries not to stop in motels because:

1. he can’t afford them

2. he shouldn’t waste time on sleep if he can spend them driving down the highway on his motorcycle instead, getting as much distance between South Korea and himself as quickly as possible.

As a dragon hybrid, Yoongi has several magic powers that typical hybrids don’t have, simply because his body doesn’t work like other hybrid bodies; he is born a dragon. Most of his genetics are dragon-like even though he’s now trapped inside a mostly human body. The only features that give off his inhuman origin are his eyes, green and purple irises, swirling around like lava, never resting. Some scales are splattered around his skin, but almost all of them are well hidden under his clothes - and Yoongi is glad that he can hide that feature because of the weird looks he would get if he had scales on his face or hands; no thanks.

That, and the fact that he can extend claws from his “normal” fingernails, which is quite useful in fights… and during other situations. 

One of Yoongi’s biggest advantages is the ability of changing his body temperature to the extreme - whether it’s hot or cold. If he wanted to burn you, he could; if he wanted to feel cold as ice, he could do that as well. He used that power a lot back when he was a little dragon, not wanting to be touched by humans that didn’t have his trust - not that any human has ever earned his trust - so he easily increased his body temperature until those who touched him left with blisters all over their hands.

People always think that dragons have the ability to spit fire, but apparently dragon hybrids can't. All Yoongi was able to do was spit acidic saliva with the ability to burn through all kinds of fabric and material (he even melted a spoon once because he hated the soup he had to eat) and whenever he was really angry, smoke would blow right out of his nostrils.

Kkangpae should’ve known better than to train him until he was invincible. Until he was stronger than them, until he was able to ruin them one by one.

It didn’t even take Yoongi an entire night to kill those who had held him his entire life, which made him Kkangpae’s enemy number one. He obviously didn’t get to kill each member, but he managed to ruin the leftovers by killing their boss, his wife and brother. The golden three, no longer golden anymore.

Which meant one thing: running away. Leaving South Korea with nothing but his motorcycle and never, ever, coming back. Yoongi doesn’t know if he will ever get to settle down somewhere or even where to go next, he just knows that he will never be able to come back to where he originated.

He has been in the United States for almost three months now, after secretly hitching a ride on a very disgusting container ship. In the beginning, he didn’t know where his adventure would bring him, but he has seen some beautiful places here. Yoongi even visits some of the biggest volcanoes in the country (he hates the volcanic mountains in Alaska, though, because the air outside is colder than what he is used to and Yoongi hates the feeling of icy air after a nice long nap in the comfortable lava) to spend some time relaxing his sore muscles. He just left his favorite volcano ever, the Yellowstone in the Rocky Mountains, a week ago and he really misses napping there, but if Kkangpae would ever look for him in the US, volcanoes would probably be an obvious spot to check for a dragon hybrid.

Now Yoongi is here in a cute little suburb that he doesn't even know the name of. Small droplets of rain are blocking the view from his motorcycle helmet and his gas tank is on low, so he decides to stop by the next available gas station and grab some hot coffee on his way to the bordering highway. 

Yoongi didn't bring a crazy amount of baggage from Korea, because it's obviously difficult to ride a motorbike with an abundance of luggage. Instead he sticks to a simple black backpack with some clothes, money that he stole from Kkangpae, his phone, and an old notebook he uses to scribble down places he’s heard of during his trip. 

Even though the gas station is quite empty, Yoongi acts out of instinct and pulls his cap lower into his face, hiding his shimmering eyes and starts to fuel his tank, looking around to check if someone has recognized him. Nobody catches his attention, until a girl on another motorbike stops to get some gas as well. Yoongi scrunches his nose, thinking that his bike was the only one in a suburb like this - because to be honest, he spent a lot of money on it, on spraying it matte black (instead of the bright teal it had before he ran away) and a bigger engine. It isn’t one of the luxurious Korean brands, but a MV Agusta F4 LH44, an expensive ass bike that Kkangpae gave him for jobs out of their area.

This girl though, she rides a fucking Kawasaki Ninja, one of the fastest - and most expensive - bikes out there. He only has eyes for her machine, but once she pulls off her helmet letting her messy hair fall over her back and turns around to the gas pump, he inhales sharply.

She’s Korean. She’s fucking Korean and she rides a fucking expensive bike.

To Yoongi it can only mean one thing: Kkangpae. But, would they really send a girl after him, a powerful dragon hybrid? Probably not. The girl hums some unknown melody as she fuels her bike, looking around as well. Yoongi makes sure that she doesn’t catch a glimpse of his eyes as he turns around to pay. 

But the girl is right behind him, he can feel her body temperature on his sensitive skin and as he walks past her, he can smell something vaguely familiar. That’s when he decides to pull off a classic Joe Goldberg, waiting for the girl some streets down the road and follows her as inconspicuously as possible.

The girl comes to a quicker halt than Yoongi is expecting - simply because he didn’t like to stop more often than necessary -, but he’s quick to park his bike and follow the girl into the establishment she walks in. Bread, Sweets and Treats, says the small sign and Yoongi cringes. Who would come up with such a name? Is the owner inspired by this one Korean band that has a track with a similar name? Yoongi shakes his head to get rid of the distracting thought, instead putting his cap back on and stepping into the café.

She is nowhere to be seen, probably sitting in some booth further back, but as soon as Yoongi attempts to stride through the café, the girl behind the counter smiles at him.

“Hi, I’m Yura! What can I get you?”

He really wants to reply with “nothing.” But the smell of coffee lingers in his nose and who would Yoongi be to decline such a chance? “Just one regular coffee, black, please.” 

He pays quickly, just slapping some notes onto the counter as he looks around once more.

“There’s a few empty tables in the back, go and sit down, relax a bit and I will be there with your coffee as soon as possible!”

That finally gives Yoongi the chance he’s been waiting for, strolling through the café to find the mysterious girl and once he has an eye on her, he sits down three tables to her right. She’s on her phone, taking sips of some hot beverage but takes nervous looks around the café from time to time and Yoongi wonders if she has seen him as well.

“Your coffee!” The barista smiles at Yoongi and places the hot mug in front of him. “Are you sure that you don’t want anything else? You look quite tired and I bet some pastries can help with that!”

Yoongi tries to crack a smile, but he knows people are most likely afraid once they lock eyes with him, but it seems like that his eyes aren’t anything that scares the friendly girl as he mutters a soft “I’m fine, thank you.”

He dares to take another look to his left, a silent gasp leaving his lips. There, on her right arm, is a tattoo of a dragon crawling up to her elbow. The symbol of Kkangpae, inked right into her skin. Yoongi’s assumptions were correct, she is one of those bastards and the only reason she’s here must be to kill him. But Yoongi isn’t one to have that, he’ll be quicker.

Patience is key, he reminds himself as he slowly sips his coffee, keeping an eye on that girl as he thinks about that one night again.

Things happen quickly then, the girl stands up and leaves to go to the restroom, but as soon as Yoongi plans to follow her, an elderly lady goes in there as well.

He sighs, pulling off his cap just to run his hands through his hair before quickly putting it back on, covering his eyes as much as possible. The hunter's knife in his boots feels heavy, ready to be used, but Yoongi doesn’t want to make a scene right here. It would cause more trouble than being effective - and he couldn’t find out more about Kkangpae’s plans in the middle of a café. On the other hand, Yoongi can’t risk losing her, that’s why he acts out of instinct once she comes back from the bathroom.

She makes her way past his table, Yoongi stands up quickly to follow her - and once she’s near the exit, he jumps onto her, slamming his full body weight against her smaller frame and smashes her into one of the tables, the wood breaking under their combined weights. His claws are out and he can feel his skin burning up during his rage as he snarls a low, “What’s your name? What are you doing here and where are the others?” at her. 

She must be a tough one though, because even if she’s scared, she doesn’t show it. Instead, she glares up at him. “Why would I tell someone that attacks me in the middle of a coffee shop my name? Fuck, get off of me, you freak! What even are you?”

Yoongi smirks, pushing her even further into the remains of the table. “Min Yoongi, I think I ruined a bit of your family business.”

Now, her eyes widen in shock as she tries to get out of his burning grip around her throat once more. “You don’t have to kill me”, she whispers. “I don’t belong to them. Not anymore. After you killed my father and my uncle, I knew it would be the best to get out of it as well, trust me!”

Yoongi laughs, head thrown back - and it looks kind of funny, because there’s a little cloud of smoke coming out of his nose - before looking back down at her. “I’ve learned one thing in my life and that’s to never trust anyone. Especially not when they’re wearing that cute little dragon tattoo on their arm. Sorry, but I guess you have to die too.”

An annoyingly high-pitched scream causes Yoongi to lose his guard for one second, giving the girl the chance she needs to break free from his grip. "Stop it, please," one of the baristas pleads, trying to calm some of the nervous customers down. Yoongi looks at him for a second, smirking as he sees the obvious features only mouse hybrids have.

The dragon hybrid snarls, showing off some of his sharper teeth as he grips his target again. "Don't you dare make a scene, mousey. It's been a while since I had one of your ancestors for lunch, you know? And I haven't eaten in quite some time." Then, he turns around to the girl. "I'm sorry love, but this situation is getting a bit out of hand." He uses his foot on her chest to keep her in place as he grabs his favorite knife that's been sitting in his boot the entire trip, just waiting to be finally used.

Fate isn't on Yoongi's side today as another one of the baristas yells at him, running past some other tables to get to where Yoongi is standing. Yoongi groans, pressing the heel of his foot deeper into the girl's chest. "You stay there, little one, okay?" She doesn't answer, just grits her teeth to compensate for the ache in her body. The mouse hybrid freezes on the spot, staring at the scene in front of him. Then, Yoongi turns around to the new voice. "What do you want now, I'm busy and I really need to go after this, so would you let me do my job, please?" The irritation isn’t easy to miss, but Yoongi's patience has always been rather low and he prefers to get over this before the rest of Kkangpae arrives as well. "I don't belong to them anymore, fucking hell!" The girl yells once more, nails digging into Yoongi's jeans-clad calf.

“I’m the manager,” the other barista slash manager says, “You have two seconds before I call the police. Get the hell –“ Yoongi gets ready to leave yet another snarky remark as a rather lean looking guy pushes her behind his frame. 

“I’ve heard rumors about your existence, I was skeptical about it – but anything is possible from where you came from.”

Yoongi’s eyes scan the stranger, thinking about how high his chances are to win another fight when he realizes that he’s one of the rarest hybrid breeds, not a regular fox but a canadian marble fox - which are often held for their beautiful fur. He has been living with one of those in the Kkangpae mansion, the fox hybrid was more likely the opposite of Yoongi’s reason to be there: Yoongi was being held to fight, the fox was a lapdog, bought to look pretty in the leader's wife's lap.

The man in front of him has similar ears, grey with black tips and his amber eyes remind him of the old fox as well. Yoongi tilts his head in visible confusion as he locks eyes with the man.

“I’m not one of them, my name’s Y/N! I’ve heard that you killed my father, my uncle and his wife so I used the chance and ran off, I didn’t know I’d see you here as well, Yoongi! Please, just fucking listen!”, the girl, Y/N, pleads with tears brimming in her eyes. 

“Yoongi, is it? Listen. You can’t do that here, I know what you did to those who held you, but this isn’t the right place!”, the fox hybrid chimes in again. Yoongi’s head moves up and down, he doesn’t know who he should listen to, but he came for this one mission: killing Y/N.

“Shut up, all of you!” He screams out of frustration, the knife starting to melt in his hands because of the unbearable heat radiating from his body. Yoongi drops the now useless weapon to the floor, the weight of his boot no longer suffocating the girl beneath him. She coughs a few times, trying to suck in as much oxygen as possible, trying to relax her wildly beating heart, but Yoongi doesn’t care about her right now. Instead, he locks eyes with the fox hybrid. “Who are you?” His voice is low, quiet, actually, because Yoongi doesn’t trust it enough to speak up.

“I’m from the Kim lineage”, the hybrid says with raised hands, probably to prove that he’s no danger to Yoongi. “Trust me, I know a lot about our individual histories.” Yoongi breathes through his nose, another tiny cloud of smoke leaving his nostrils as he finally steps back from Y/N. “Kim, as in Kim Jiho? That can’t be it. You’re related to him?” 

He eyes the other man skeptically, not really sure whether to believe him or not. He doesn’t even look at Y/N who’s been standing but not running away yet. 

The other hybrid's answer shocks Yoongi, his eyes widening as he sees the frown on his face, combined with soft ears flopping down sadly. "That's my father."

The woman behind the Kim hybrid whispers something into his ear, causing the man to nod as he looks back at Yoongi, but aIso at Y/N. "Let's just take this outside, we can talk out there." 

Yoongi's eyes flicker between the hybrid and Y/N, then he nods slowly whilst pressing out a low "fine". Just as Y/N starts walking past him he grabs her wrist and pulls her closer, whispering into her ear. "If you try to run off, I'll be right behind you, ready to rip your guts out." As if to prove his point, Yoongi heats his skin up once again, burning Y/N's wrist before smiling sweetly at her and following the fox hybrid out of the café. 

The hybrid, who introduces himself as Kim Taehyung, offers refuge to Yoongi and Y/N at his secret bunker in the nearby mountains. He uses the space to hide during emergencies. It isn’t anything special, it is a literal fox burrow with furniture which totally confirms the impression Yoongi has on Taehyung’s style: simple, yet elegant.

Yoongi is even allowed to eat some of Taehyung’s self grown variety of exotic fruits that he is extremely proud of. He smugly offers a dragon fruit to Yoongi who only raises his brows, a challenging glint to his eyes as he grabs some of the lychees instead and pops them into his mouth. “But you’re supposed to peel them!”, Taehyung screeches, his furry ears twitching in disgust, but Yoongi only smiles and eats one more, swallowing the entire fruit just to see Taehyung’s reaction once more.

“My saliva is acidic, I don’t need to peel them. I’ve been eating worse things, trust me.”

After Taehyung shows Yoongi and Y/N around the bunker (it even included a shower and a functional bedroom), he decides to call it a night and leave the two alone (not without them promising Taehyung to not kill each other, he would “check in the next day” to make sure of it) and heads over to his own little cabin nearby. Once Taehyung leaves, Yoongi pulls Y/N onto the worn out couch to actually sit down and talk.

“Okay, so you say you’re running away from Kkangpae too, right? Why?” Yoongi raises the eyebrow that was cut through by that ugly scar. 

Y/N swallows, trying not to stare at Yoongi’s distracting eyes. “I was born into it, I didn’t choose that life, Yoongi. Just like you I was just a part of their game. I’ve seen people die since I was a kid. I’ve never been allowed to have friends or sleep somewhere else because my father was too ‘worried’ something could happen to me. That’s why one of his coaches trained me in different kinds of martial arts from the time I was able to walk.”

She looks at the hybrid again, shaking her head in disgust.

“Of course I knew what was going on with them, why they were behaving like that and I knew that my father and uncle were the leaders, so there wasn’t any chance for me to get away from it. I tried, really, but once I found out that they got killed... I didn’t know you did it, because the second I heard it, I ran. You can trust me, Yoongi, even though my last name might be occupied by all your prejudices.”

Yoongi listens the entire time, not interrupting her as he tries to understand what she was saying. “I’ve seen you when you were a teen”, he mumbles. “I age differently than humans, but I think you were just around 15 years old when you kicked that one security guy in the balls. That was kind of badass, not gonna lie,” Yoongi smirks at her, eyes glistering mischievously. Y/N rolls her eyes at that. “He liked my dress way too much. One more reason not to wear those weird things at all.” Yoongi hums. “I bet you look great in those, but I do like your leather pants too. Anyways, what leads you to the US? It’s not the most… unusual choice to run away to. Wouldn't a country like Greece or Egypt be better? They must be looking after you too. I tried hiding in volcanoes but it was too obvious.”

The girl shrugs her shoulders, shivering now that the evening starts to settle in. “I don’t know, to be honest. All those countries sound nice and fun, but I don’t speak their language. America is huge, too. I wasn’t planning on staying in this town, but now that I met you, I mean… We could run off together, maybe? I can fight and I know how to use a gun and I’ve heard of your… powers, too. You might know how they fight, but I know how they think. Us teaming up would be useful.” She shuffles around, unsure about how Yoongi would react. 

“Are you cold?” 

“What?” 

This wasn’t the reaction Y/N was waiting for. “Are you cold? You’re shivering. I’ve never used my powers in this way, but maybe I could help you,” 

Yoongi shrugs as he slowly touches her arm and attempts to heat up his own skin in a way that wouldn’t hurt the girl. Y/N flinches at first, but the temperature heating up her body is too comfortable to deny.

“Oh god, this is amazing,” she leans her head against the headrest and closes her eyes. “I haven’t been this comfortable in a while.” 

Yoongi nods, he understands that. The bunker is the first place he might be able to actually sleep. “I’ve been sleeping in volcanoes, like I said, but I haven’t really slept since I left the last one. Not that anyone could come in it and try to kill me, but after two days of sleeping and soaking in lava, it got boring.”

“I wouldn’t even mind bathing in lava as long as it’s this comfortable”, Y/N whispers as she drifts off into a deep slumber. 

Once she’s asleep, Yoongi removes his hand slowly and looks around to find a comforter to throw over her relaxed body. Then he decides that he finally deserves the luxury of a real shower, with real hot water (that he heats up even more), before snuggling into the bed and closing his eyes for at least a few hours.

The next few days went by like nothing, Yoongi and Y/N weren’t really ready to go outside and face the world, so they stay inside the bunker to plan their getaway. They go out twice, practicing their fighting skills and helping Taehyung to pick some fruits (because Yoongi felt bad, he ate the entire mango stash in one night).

This evening, Yoongi prepares some food that he finds in the cupboards, some pasta and a canned sauce that he heats up in his hands, not bothering to put it onto the stove. He’s at the point where he decides that Y/N deserves his trust, that she won’t kill him and he’s pleasantly surprised to have someone like that in his life. 

Y/N steps out of the shower, towel wrapping around her delicate body as Yoongi plates the food on the makeshift table. 

“I swear to you, my muscles are still sore from your training yesterday!” She huffs as she searches her backpack for fresh clothes. “Can I grab one of your shirts? One of us has to do laundry tomorrow, I’m going to ask Taehyung how he’s doing it when he’s out here. But for now, I need something comfortable because I can’t squeeze my tired body in leather pants and a tight tank. So, please, Yoongi?” Y/N smiles her sweetest smile, causing Yoongi to groan out, defeated.

“And what am I supposed to wear tomorrow? My old stinky one that I sweat into during training?” He raises the scarred eyebrow at her as he sits down in front of his own plate, starting to eat already. 

Y/N pouts as she grabs one of his last clean shirts and runs into the bathroom. When she comes back, she’s wearing that shirt - and only that shirt. Yoongi almost drops his fork.

It’s not like those movies where the girlfriend wears her boyfriend’s shirt and it looks cute and stops above her knee, no. Yoongi isn’t the tallest, Y/N’s actually almost the same height as him - with more curves than Yoongi's lanky body. Instead, his ‘oversized’ shirt ends just a bit below her ass. Yoongi would bet that if she bends down, her entire peach would be on full view for him.

“Aren’t you going to wear any pants?” Yoongi mutters. To be honest, he hopes she won’t opt for pants because… he’s just a man and even his dragon instincts think about sex from time to time.

“Is it bothering you?” Y/N asks as she plops down besides him, starting to eat right away as well. 

There isn’t much space between them and Yoongi can see her hardening nipples under the shirt that once belonged to him. He shrugs. “Nah, but don’t come ask me to heat you up just because you’re freezing your ass off again.” 

She quirks an eyebrow. “Would it bother you? Heating me up?” 

“Probably.”

Y/N pouts and turns away slightly after she throws a blanket over her legs, continuing to eat her pasta. “How long are we going to stay here? We planned to leave for Italy, but when? It’s getting colder each day and I don’t like that winter’s coming.”

Yoongi stands up to go and wash his plate, not sure about the answer to Y/N’s question.

“There’s nothing holding us here. We could go and leave tomorrow, but we could also stay for a few more days, try to get enough sleep and take advantage of this bunker. I mean, would we get the chance to have such a perfect hideout again? Let’s use this opportunity for as long as we can.” 

Inside, Yoongi knows that he wasn’t ready to leave just yet. He wasn’t ready to face the world, not ready to be on the run again. “How much money did you take with you? Wherever we decide to stop by next, we should think about a way to earn money.”

 “I left with my card and packed some money from the family’s safe before I realized it isn’t that smart to run away with my credit card that could be tracked. I withdrew some more money and gave the card to a homeless lady,” Y/N shrugs as she dries the plate Yoongi has washed before placing it back into the cupboard. “I think I still have around 10 grand in my backpack, I really don’t know. I didn’t need a lot of money, most of it was needed for gas and coffee.” 

“You’ve been travelling with 10 thousand in cash? That’s kinda stupid. What are going to do if someone tries to rob you? Ugh,” Yoongi can feel the smoke leaving his nostril as he paces through the room, feeling restless out of sudden. 

Y/N giggles. “Are you worried? Min Yoongi, the baddest dragon alive is worried about a girl that grew up with Kkangpae and definitely knows how to protect herself.”

Yoongi scrunches his nose, already feeling his skin heat up - but not in the magical way he’s used to. Nope. Min Yoongi is being shy. 

“You are worried! How cute! Are you sure you’re a dragon and not just a little lizard? One of those that live in the fields and kids go and pick them up to have them as a pet in some shoeboxes?” Y/N steps closer, gently bumping her hip against Yoongi’s before patting his head with a giggle. “Who knew that the bad boy that’s one of the most powerful human beings is getting soft over a girl.”

Enough’s enough. Even though Yoongi never had the chance to fall in love, to be in a relationship or build a real friendship, he has had more than enough experience in other things, having shared ruts and heats with countless other hybrids that has some sort of place in Kkangpae. He turns around, his instincts taking over him.

Puffing out his chest a bit, standing completely straight so he will hover over Y/N, Yoongi steps forward, breath fanning over her face. “Did you just call me a fucking lizard?”

His eyes are going wild right now, the purple and green swirling around even faster than the usual soft flow of colors. He growls, stretching his neck from side to side as he starts to feel his fangs growing, soon poking out of his lips. 

Y/N smirks, tilting her head to the side, looking up innocently at the fuming dragon in front of her. “Too bad you can’t change forms, huh?” She doesn’t even get to add another snarky comment to her sentence as Yoongi’s body presses her against the rough wall, his shirt sliding up her body as he cages her in.

“You’re acting like an ungrateful bitch, Y/N. Even got to wear my shirt like you’re someone that actually means something to me, yet you’re being bratty and annoying. I don’t hesitate to get rid of people that act up on me, you should know that by now.” 

His hot breath fans her face and Y/N tries her best not to squirm under his intense glare. Then, she smirks. “You wouldn’t kill me.” 

“Mhhm, you’re right, I wouldn’t. Still, you’re being bratty and I don’t appreciate such behavior.” Yoongi looks at Y/N, eyes still intimidating her. 

“What are you going to do about it? Spank me?” She laughs, knowing that situations like this only happen in those new adult novels, not during an escape.

“I should, but maybe you won’t be able to keep up with it. In the end, you’re just human whilst I’m nothing more than a cute little lizard, huh?” Yoongi looks at his hands, claws forming where his fingernails once were. “I don’t remember lizards being able to hurt you, though. Wanna try?” His smirk is dangerous, but so alluring that Y/N just nods, not knowing what the night will bring for her.

Once they move to the makeshift bedroom, Y/N’s knees start to get weak. Yoongi feels the change in her aura, smirking to himself as he stops right behind her, hot breath blowing on her neck. 

“Is there anything you don’t like, Bambi?” His fangs gently poke the juncture of her neck, not enough to actually draw blood but to make her twist under his touch.

“I don’t think so, I mean… I guess I like… Yoongi, can you stop that for a second, please?” She turns around in his grip, cheeks blushing and lips parted. Yoongi cooes.

“This turned on already? Can’t even form sentences? Alright, I’ll sit down then and you’re going to tell me what I’m allowed to do to you,” Yoongi smirks as he slumps on the mattress, manspreading to give Y/N the best view of the bulge in his pants.

Y/N rolls her eyes and sinks down between his legs, a dangerous smirk now lingering on her lips. “Maybe I’ll just show you what I like and you can take over from that? Figured you’d be one that prefers to be in control. I’ll go by the traffic light system if I’m not okay with anything - or I’ll kick you in the balls, so don’t worry.”

Yoongi doesn’t even bother to answer as Y/N presses her mouth against his clothed dick to kiss it lightly. His hips buck slightly as she wraps her lips around him and starts sucking on the side of his bulge through the fabric. She smiles as his cock grows harder under her lips, but Yoongi is quick to pull her off. “I really appreciate your effort but are you down there to drool all over my pants or are you going to suck me off? I promise you my dick is human, not one of a lizard.”

She pouts, playing with the hem of his joggers. “Where’s the fun in that? But fine,” Y/N rolls her eyes and pulls them down slowly, her nails gently scratching the skin of his stomach while doing so. As the waistband of his pants go past his cock, she is not even surprised that Yoongi isn’t wearing any boxers underneath them. 

“Predictable,” she mutters mostly to herself, but Yoongi grabs a bunch of her hair to push Y/N back on his, this time naked, length. 

It costs her a lot of self control to not retort him with a snarky remark, as she continues to remove his pants slowly. Yoongi growls, but she just smiles up at him and grabs his heavy dick to stroke it two, three times. Then, she leans down to gently lick his balls, still not using her mouth on his dick.

Yoongi twists and groans, trying his hardest not to grab her and shove his entire length down her throat until it’s sore, but this woman is testing his patience. One of his hands is still on the back of her head whilst he uses the other one to lean back a little, just to get a better view.

“Are you done playing now, Petal?” Yoongi’s grip on Y/N’s hair tightens, his claws digging into her head - and Y/N can’t keep in the silent mewl that leaves her lips at the burning pleasure. “Be a good girl now, will you?” His voice is almost alluring her to do as he pleases, but Y/N wouldn’t be herself if she follows his orders. 

Their eyes meet and Yoongi has to admit that she looks perfect. Even though she isn’t wearing any make up right now, hair still damp from her shower and eyes already clouded with lust, he wouldn’t want any other person to be in her position right now. 

She stares at his cock again, her own panties dampening at the thought of having it inside her. Y/N’s tongue pokes out to play with his tip, tasting him and getting a feeling for the heaviness on her tongue as Yoongi pushes her down in one swift motion. A gurgling sound escapes from Y/N’s throat, but she does her best to swallow his huge length, using her fist to stroke whatever can’t fit. 

“Oh, shit,” Yoongi groans and throws his head back while trying to keep his eyes on Y/N at the same time. Her eyes are closed, lips beautifully parted around his cock and saliva already drips down her chin, even though Yoongi hasn’t even really moved by now. “You’ll let me fuck your mouth, right, angel?” 

She nods as good as she can with a mouth full of dick, looking up at the hybrid in front of her. Yoongi hisses as he pushes his hips forward, losing himself in the feeling quickly as his thrusts get faster and sloppier. The sight of Y/N not only sucking him off but also wearing his shirt sends him close to edge quickly.

Y/N pulls off to take a deep breath and to wink at Yoongi before sinking down again. 

"God, you're so good, Petal. Wanted to fuck that bratty mouth for so long now. Imagine your father seeing you like that, he'd die from the shock, his little princess on her knees to please the housedragon." 

She moans at his words, fingers sIiding under her, Yoongi's, shirt, but the man is quick to grab both of her hands to cross them behind her head. He grabs her wrists as he plunges himself down her throat once more before he spills his hot load into her mouth with a loud growl a bit of smoke that comes out of his nostrils.

As Y/N pulls off, her eyes show the disbelief she must be feeling. "You… You taste like…" 

"Cinnamon?", Yoongi smirks, his eye color now much calmer than before now that his inner dragon is somewhat sated - for now.

“Yes, I was expecting anything, a double penis, maybe some weird forms or scales, but not cinnamon flavoured cum. Not that I mind, though. Tastes like that gum I used to have when I was still in school.”

Yoongi hums, stepping out of his pants now that they won’t be used anyways, his shirt following too.

“Now it’s your turn, petal. Let me see you,” he gestures with his fingertip, swirling in a motion for her to turn around, finally giving Yoongi the view that he had been curious about ever since Y/N came out of the bathroom with his shirt on. She isn’t wearing one of those expensive lingeries that are nothing but lace, no. Expensive, yes. A sporty looking string is disappearing between her round buttcheeks, the rather thick waistband of it covered with the Versace logo. Yoongi hums, that’s definitely what he had expected Y/N to wear, it looks comfortable but still seductive.

Y/N smirks over her shoulder, lifting the hem of her shirt teasingly but letting it fall down again to cover her butt. “Maybe you need privileges to undress me, Min. I mean, I’m somewhat of royal blood, aren’t I?” She gracefully sinks down onto his lap, arms wrapping around his neck.

A chuckle leaves Yoongi’s lips as he tilts his head. “Do you want me to call you princess now? Because I didn’t know you were into that. Does babygirl also do the thing for you? I bet your blood’s blue too, I’d love to see that.” 

Yoongi traces his finger tip over her thigh, his claw teasing the soft skin there and Y/N’s eyes follow it curiously. He presses down a bit, just enough to break the first layer of skin and draw a little bit of blood - enough to prove both of them that Y/N’s blood isn’t blue. “Oh, too bad, not a real princess,” Yoongi pouts. 

Y/n raises her eyebrow. “Did you just cut me?” 

“It’s not a cut, just a little… poke?” Yoongi wipes over the blood before bringing his finger to his lips and licking the drop off with a smirk. “Doesn’t taste royal to me, rather muddy. But maybe that’s what you get from living with Kkangpae for so long. Guess mine tastes like dirt too.” 

Y/N laughs, not even shocked about the fact that Yoongi seems to  be bothered about her blood on his tongue. The melodic sound of her laugh makes Yoongi smile too, an actual, honest smile that shows all his teeth and fangs, causing Y/N to coo. “And suddenly you don’t look scary anymore.”

Her eyes wander down his body, inspecting every inch, maybe to find something more dragon-like, maybe to just remember the skinship for much longer. “Oh,” She breathes out, “You’ve got scales.”

Yoongi looks down at his stomach where some scales are shimmering in the bedroom light. “Yes, I do have scales. I’m a dragon, remember?” 

And to Y/N, they’re beautiful. They’re not huge, not as dry or disgusting as lizards look like, no. Those scales must come from a line of beautiful dragons. They match his eyes, shimmering purple and green whenever they hit the light. But they’re not only on his stomach, they are also winding around his sides and up his back. 

Y/N’s fingers follow them as she orders Yoongi to lay down on his stomach to get a full view of them. 

The scales grow larger on his shoulder blades, probably where his dragon wings imaginely would be and Y/N can’t help but kiss the rough texture. Goosebumps erupt on Yoongi’s entire body, skinship like this was never a real thing for him. 

“Feels good,” he whispers into his arm, slightly ashamed. Y/N continues to pamper his skin in kisses and licks, biting the rougher areas here and there until Yoongi grows impatient and turns them around, growling playfully. 

“Like I said, my turn now.”

Yoongi always has a thing for taking his time to please his partner, he isn’t one for quick fucks without foreplay. So, he kneels between Y/N’s parting legs, palms caressing the smooth skin that is covered in a few fresh cuts and old scars from practicing her fighting skills, but Yoongi definitely didn’t mind them. His shirt has moved on its own, not even covering her panties anymore but ending somewhere above her belly button by now. As soon as his fingertips glide over the curve of her hips, Y/N shudders with a quiet mewl. “Yoongi.”

“Mhm, ‘m here, you look so good, Petal,” Yoongi whispers while kissing her ankles, her calves, and the sensitive area of her inner thighs. “Truly like a flower. You know that there’s a flower called Dragon’s Breath? It’s bright red and can survive in the heat like a champ, even their leaves are red. But I don’t think it’s scent comes close to yours,” he hums in front of her clothed core, tongue poking against the wet spot on the fabric. “Bet you taste even better, Petal.”

“Yoongi, please,” Y/N whines, getting rid of the shirt by herself, the heat simmering inside her body is almost overwhelming. Yoongi looks up from the space between her legs, eyeing the swell of her breasts with a growl, muttering compliments again and again. He sits up the slightest bit to gently remove her panties - claws nowhere to be seen by now, even his fangs are gone and Yoongi’s just Yoongi, even though the arousal is visible in his eyes again. 

He lies down, cock rubbing against the rough sheets causes him to hiss quietly, but his mind is somewhere else within seconds. How couldn’t he with Y/N’s soaking core in front of his face? 

She can’t see his mischievous smirk as he swiftly controls the temperature of his skin, cooling down his fingertips as he slowly and teasingly traces her folds. 

Y/N yelps. “Yoongi! Shit, what’s that?” 

Yoongi laughs, holding up his unoccupied hand to her face, showing her how cold his fingers are by holding them against her cheek whilst the other hand works magic on her clit. 

“Unbelievable. Warn me the next time,” she mutters as she sinks back into the pillows. 

Yoongi’s hot breath fans the sensitive area before he broadly licks right across the flesh, enjoying the way her body jumps out of surprise again. “Oh, oops.”

Then, he finally pushes one finger in, tongue pressing right against Y/N’s clit as he starts doing what it feels like he was born to do. Yoongi eats her out with no mercy. Ignoring her squirming body and needy whines, he only concentrates on the places that bring the loudest moans out of her, massacring those until she’s close - to stop with a smug smirk. 

Y/N could reach her high by just looking at his face, red and breathless, but also wet from her juices, lips glistering in the light. Two of his fingers are still inside her, teasing her G-spot just as his lips start sucking the life out of her clit again. 

Y/N’s hands are buried in his chaotic mess of hair, pulling on it but also pressing him further onto her core until his tongue slips inside her as well. She doesn’t warn him, too scared of missing another orgasm, but Yoongi also doesn’t look like he’s about to stop this time, eager to pleasure the woman underneath him. Y/N screams as she reaches her high, hips bucking up from the bed, Yoongi’s head going with it, just so he can make sure that every second of her orgasm will be remembered forever.

He kitten licks her folds as she calms down; stroking her thighs, kissing her stomach while whispering praises. “Fuck,” she rasps out, her stomach still heaving heavily. 

Yoongi crawls up next to her with admiration in his eyes as he leans over to kiss Y/N for the first time. She can taste herself on his tongue, but who cares? The kiss is more gentle than Y/N expects. Yoongi seems to be switching moods from hungry to loving within seconds, but that’s probably his inner dragon wanting to devour her whilst Yoongi just wants to take his time to make the night special. Y/N is the one to pull away, looking at him with dark eyes. “Get inside me, please.”

The hybrid smirks, tilting his head as he asks “How do you like it?” 

“I’ll show you,” she remarks as she pushes Yoongi to lay flat on his back. She climbs into his lap and sinks down onto his cock in one abrupt motion without even bothering to tease him. 

The pleasure is overwhelming; Yoongi stretches her so, so good and Y/N feels so, so warm and tight around Yoongi that he loses all of his control over his body. His eyes are bright purple now, pupils forming into slits that remind Y/N more of a snake than a dragon. His skin burns up, almost too much for her to bear, but the hissing noises Yoongi releases are enough to hold on through it. 

“Fuck, sorry, wait a second,” Yoongi tries to push her off so she can cool down a little bit, but Y/N just shakes her head. She shushes him with a gentle kiss, careful of the fangs that now poke out between his lips again. “Don’t hold back, it’s not hurting me. Be yourself, Yoongi. I trust you.”

Yoongi curses under his breath as he tries his best not to move, letting Y/N adjust to his size and the circumstances of his inhumane origin. He’s never fucked a human, and even though they’re not that much different from hybrids he knew that he didn’t want to hurt her. 

“It’s not only the temperature,” Yoongi groans, “I tend to bite and mark my partners. I don’t know how your body would react to it, though. I sometimes say or do things that my human side would never say.” 

Y/N smiles at him, fondness blooming in her heart as she starts swaying her hips slowly, not breaking eye contact. “Like I said, Yoongi, I trust you. I’m sure that you’re inside your inner dragon, that you won’t hurt me and even if I tell you to stop; you’d be able to. Now, c’mon, don’t tell me you’re getting all shy while your dick is inside me?” 

She tilts her head with a playful smile as her hands glide down Yoongi’s toned chest, teasing his perky nipples and playing with his beautiful scales. It was still hard to believe that the rarest, most powerful hybrid was right here with her, laying underneath her, sharing this moment with her.

“Now come on, Yoongi, wake up the dragon and give me what you’ve promised.”

Yoongi didn’t need to be told twice, hands landing a firm grip on Y/N’s hips as he plants his feet firmly on the mattress before quickly pistoning up inside her. Y/N cries in pleasure, but Yoongi almost doesn’t hear it, too lost in the feeling of her tight pussy around his cock. He’s still trying to be careful, keeping his claws under control so he won’t actually tear her apart. 

“‘m gonna make you cum so good, Petal. So, so good.”

Then, he flips them around in one swift motion, hovering over her frame as he looks down at her like only a predator could. “Mine,” he snarls as he licks into Y/N’s mouth, hips moving slowly but so powerful that her body pushes up into the pillow with each thrust. “Say it, Petal. Say you’re mine.”

Yoongi grabs her face so she can’t break eye contact - not that she would, who could look away from such eyes? They’re hypnotizing and Y/N is sure that she will do just about anything for him right now.

“I’m yours, Yoongi. It’s just you and me right now,” she breathes out as she grabs his hair, pulling his head closer so she can connect their lips once more.

Yoongi’s hips start to stutter, his orgasm approaching, but he didn’t want it to end just yet. Of course, dragon stamina is different, but where would be the fun in that? Orgasm control and denial is a thing that Yoongi enjoys here and there, teasing himself whilst masturbating, not letting him or his partners come and delaying their pleasure for as long as he possibly can. That’s why he pulls out quickly, leaving Y/N’s core clench around nothing. 

“The fuck, Yoongi?” Y/N whines and glares at the man in front of her, eyeing his sweaty body.

He laughs and presses a quick kiss to her lips before he sits back on his heels, staring at her body as well. Her chest is heaving, fine pearls of sweat dripping down the space between her breasts and her legs are slightly shaking - all of that is enough to boost Yoongi’s confidence as he quickly pushes two of his fingers inside her, pumping them at a rapid pace. His teeth - and fangs - nibble on her nipples, pulling them slightly, almost crossing the border of comfortable pain as he fingers her through her second orgasm of the night. 

“Do you want to kill me?” Y/N sighs as she catches her breath, knowing that Yoongi is not done with her for tonight. 

He laughs again, fangs shining in the light and tiny droplets of sweat fall out of his hair as he shakes his head. “I could, but where would be the fun in that? Or are you one of those girls that like the thrill of almost being killed? I could choke you if you’re into that.”

“Oh, I am into that, but not after orgasming two times and knowing that there will probably be two more coming. Is that one of your kinks? Choking?” She tilts her head in an adorable way - too adorable for the position she’s in right now. 

“Mhhm,” Yoongi hums whilst tracing the sensitive skin on her stomach. Y/N jumps slightly, shooting Yoongi a playful glare before quickly jumping onto him. She sits down on his abdomen, leans over and closes her hands around his throat. “Do you like being choked too?” 

“Can you handle me fighting back against it?” The challenge shimmers in Yoongi’s eyes, knowing that Y/N is nowhere as strong as he is, but he loves playing. He doesn’t mind if she wants to be on top, he enjoys losing control once in a while, but his dragon usually hates it, fights against it.

Y/N loosens the grip of one hand to slowly rake her fingernails down his chest, leaving visible lines. “I’ve never said no to a good fight, Yoongi.”

The hybrid growls, hands balling to fists as Y/N tightens the grip on his neck once again. 

“This is so hot, you’re so hot,” He whispers, eyes closed and lost in the feeling.  

Then, Y/N lines herself up with Yoongi again and sinks down slowly, gasping slightly because the stretch is still there, but it feels so good. “God, move, please move,” Yoongi rasps and who would Y/N be to deny him such a thing? She uses both of her hands to sturdy herself on his chest whilst quickly bouncing up and down his cock. The noises that Yoongi makes are music to her ears, he’s usually so quiet, but now he doesn’t even try to hide the pleasure he’s feeling.

He groans, grunts, hisses and even moans whilst his hips buckle up to meet her thrusts. “Fuck, I’m going to breed you so well. You’re mine, Y/N. Gonna be my mate, huh? Gonna carry my chicks, all beautiful and round.”

Y/N’s eyes widen at Yoongi’s confession, but she can’t deny the arousal that floods through her body with his words. “Yes, Yoongi. Fuck, yes, breed me.”

By now the biggest roar leaves Yoongi’s chest as he pushes Y/N off, to grab her hips and position her on all fours in front of him. A harsh slap lands on her ass as he pushes in again, pressing her face-down into the pillows. “I will, Petal. You could never want anyone else after being mine. Nobody else. Just me.” 

His hand finds its way into her hair, wrapping it around his wrist as he pulls her head back, having her at full mercy. 

They’re both a loud mess by now and Yoongi is fucking thankful for the bunker, because imagine if they’d go on like this in Taehyung’s cabin instead - the entire forest would be able to listen to them. 

It’s gross and sweaty, wild and not gentle, but both of them enjoy it way too much. 

Y/N can’t even warn Yoongi before her third orgasm washes through her body and the tight clench combined with her sinful moans sends Yoongi over the edge too - spilling his thick load into her with one last thrust. 

“Shit,” he groans as he collapses on top of her, pressing kisses all over her neck. “You were so good, Petal.” 

Y/N smiles, nuzzling back into him and closes her eyes to enjoy the comfortable post-sex silence. Yoongi hums quietly, giving the two of them time to cool down - he helps her by reducing his body temperature again -, then he pulls out. “Ew,” he mutters as his cum gushes out of her. 

“Creampies are hot whilst you’re still busy with fucking, but afterwards it’s just a gross mess. Wanna take a shower?”

Y/N’s way too lazy to shower right now, she’d die for a hot bath but the bunker didn’t give her any chance to fulfill that dream, so she just nods. “Mhm, yes, but you’ve got to carry me, you big lizard.”

Yoongi furrows his eyebrows before sighing in defeat. “Guess I’ll need to show you my dragon once again.” He lifts Y/N up easily and carries her towards the bathroom, just to have her at his mercy once more. And this time, Y/N doesn’t argue about him being a true dragon. 

Days and nights go by quickly whilst Yoongi and Y/N grow closer each passing minute. 

They spend their days together training, teaching each other self defense tricks and talking about which places they want to travel to next. 

They do sleep together now, not fighting over who will get the bed and who will have to stay on the couch. Some nights are a bit colder, which gives Yoongi the opportunity to hold Y/N close to his chest while slowly heating himself up to a comfortable temperature to sleep in. In general, you could say that Yoongi and Y/N act like a couple - though they don’t talk about their feelings right now.

Yoongi has never been in love and neither has Y/N, Kkangpae hasn't given them any chance to find a suitable partner to spend their lives with. So how would they know if love is what they are feeling?

What Yoongi does know is that he’d protect Y/N with his life - and vice versa.

Cuddling on the couch has become a thing for Y/N and Yoongi and he hates being unsure about the whole situation, he didn’t want to label them, but he is itching to know what’s going on between them. So one evening after dinner, he blurts out “Are we in a relationship? Like, are we a thing now?” 

Y/N jumps slightly in Yoongi’s embrace and looks up at the hybrid, unsure. “I… don’t know? I guess you could say so, we do a lot of couple things, I mean last night when you ate my..-” 

“Oh, yes, I remember. That was fun!” 

Yoongi smirks at the memory of last night’s bedtime adventures, Y/N trapped underneath him, her legs wrapping around his head as he ate her out slowly and teasingly, before he just pulls her on top of himself to sit on his face. Now he has not only her pussy in front of him, but also her ass - and what kind of man would Yoongi be to not use this opportunity?

“I mean, I would… I would like to be in a relationship with you, Yoongi. I trust you, I really like you and I feel like we’ll be spending the rest of our lives together anyway,” Y/N looks at her hands and bites her lip in anticipation, fearful about the man’s answer.

“That sounds like you’re choosing to date me just because I’m the only man around you, Petal.” 

He gently grabs her face, giving her no chance to break the eye contact. This time, the green in his eyes is more prominent than the purple - a rare sight, but Y/N is still in awe. “I want you to choose me because you actually like me, Y/N. Not just like, but maybe even love me. I know we haven’t known each other for a long time, there can’t be love between us for now, but I can say for myself that I am really close to loving you. I want to spend the rest of my life running away with you, not just because I have to.”

Y/N pouts, eyebrows furrowing as she looks at Yoongi. “I didn’t mean it like that, Yoongi. But if you’re asking this charmingly, yes, I’d like to date you too, you big baby.” Yoongi growls playfully, showing off his fangs - which he knows that they don’t scare Y/N at all, but he’s proud of them, so he shows them off here and there - and pressing a gentle kiss onto her lips. 

Feelings change kisses. Kissing somebody that you’re now dating is even better so the new couple spends minutes kissing each other carefully and lovingly. Yoongi is just about to get Y/N on his lap as the door bursts open and an out of breath looking Taehyung stands in the living room.

“Yoongi… They’re here… Rats, but they smelled weird,” the hybrid pants as he looks at Yoongi. 

The dragon just stares at Taehyung intensely, before nodding. “Thanks, man. Really. For your help, for letting us stay here, take care of yourself, okay?”

All of them know that it’s now the time for Y/N and Yoongi to leave, not coming back ever again because Kkangpae would always have their men here from now on. 

“Thank you, Tae,” Y/N bows slightly with red cheeks, still embarrassed that they got caught. 

“Good luck, guys.” Taehyung sends them a hurt smile, knowing that he and Yoongi could actually be friends if their lives were different, but now it was time to say goodbye so Taehyung turns around and leaves as quickly as he came.

Yoongi sighs as he stands up and starts gathering their things. “Time to pack. You’ll do the bedroom and I’ll collect our stuff from here, okay? I think the next stop will be South Africa, it’s a long trip but it’ll be worth it, Kkangpae would probably never search for us there.” 

And so, they do end up in Kenya almost two weeks later, the US long forgotten as their lives go on. 

The trip is actually fun, Yoongi and Y/N riding on their motorbikes - Yoongi is even allowed to ride hers for a short amount of time - taking the ferry instead of the plane and sleeping at random places in the countries they passed.

Kenya is beautiful, the temperature is perfect for Yoongi and he finally gets the glow a true dragon should have. He doesn’t look as pale anymore, random scales growing here and there on his arms and neck and Y/N has never found Yoongi to be more beautiful. He seems truly happy.

The couple even started to go out, visiting different National Parks and trying to find some volcanoes for Yoongi. Y/N knows that she could never go near an active volcano, but Yoongi swears that he needed them at least once every two months to keep his dragon alive - though Y/N thinks he wants to take a long nap in the lava again.

During their time at the Masai Mara National Reserve they met another hybrid, a rare persian cheetah by the name of Hoseok. He greets them with open arms and is friendly enough to show them around. 

Hoseok also gives them a perfect description of how Yoongi would find the only active volcano in South Africa on Marion Island. That’s where the couple is right now, Y/N swimming in the turquoise water around the island whilst Yoongi takes, to no surprise, a nap in the lava. 

They’re genuinely happy, living more relaxed and peaceful than ever before and once Yoongi wakes up from his nap and sees Y/N still swimming around, playing with little fish and looking as beautiful as ever, he just knows that he made the right decision. She’s the one he wants to spend his life with, have kids with and die with.

They have a good feeling that Kkangpae won’t find them here. This can be their home from now on. Though, they wouldn’t mind the chance to discover more of the earth, travel around and meet new people. 

But South Korea isn’t on their list, that’s for sure. 

#ksmutclub #smutcentralnet #magicshopnet #bangtanfairygarden #bangtanarmynet #suganetwork #bts #bts fanfiction #min yoongi #yoongi fanfiction #yoongi #suga #suga fanfiction #hybrid #hybrid yoongi #dragon yoongi #yoongi smut #yoongi fluff #yoongi angst #bts smut #bts fluff #bts angst #hybrid bts #hybrid collab #dragon hybrid #btscollab #bts fic #yoongi fic

[cadykeus-clay]

i would low key love to hear your tangent about the differences there are between how VM and TM9 react with the world

ah, the perfect excuse for me to put off my 30 page reading, thank you :3

(i’m also going to preface this by saying most of this is stuff i’ve picked from other people’s various metas and i absolutely do not remember who those authors might be so i apologize jsdlkfsd)

....

but uh ... basically i feel like vox machina and the nein have a completely opposite standard for how they interact with the people the consider to be their “inner circle” vs. everyone who doesn’t qualify as that. 

vm is a group of individuals who, overall, had one cruel person that slighted them but didn’t really destroy their faith in humanity. (their faith in themselves is a whole different horse. that ones .... woof. looking at you percy scanlan tary keyleth.) Percy had the briarwoods, Grog had Kevdak, the twins and tary had their father. so, the way that they interact with just random people that they meet is - with exceptions of course - amicable, or at the very least, respectably polite. 

they’re the saviours of emon, the freers of whitestone. they have festivals held in their honor. they have kid fans and random farmers knocking on their doorstep for aid because they’ve heard tales of the kindness. sure, vex can be a hassle when she’s haggling down a price, and keyleth tends to poke buttons in way that gets her arrested a fair amount of the time, but at the end of the day they’re the people’s heroes, and they’re happy to be that!

their inner circle, however, is much more closely guarded. they have a few chosen allies (gilmore, allura, kima, kash and zahra, cassandra) and that’s it. They’re hesitant with anyone else trying to creep into their personal fold. Hell, it took beating up tary and him breaking down sobbing for them to even consider liking him. they’ve been burned by raishan and clarota and hotis, by individuals they let in and who then stabbed them in the back. they’ll do almost any favor for a stranger who asks, but they’ll be damned if they trust anyone to actually join their midst. vox machina is vox machina is vox machina and that’s incredibly hard to change. 

the nein, on the other hand, are fundamentally a group of rejects. some of them have specific people they can point a finger at and say “i hate you”, but those problems stem from a greater societal rejection. beau has daddy issues, but she also felt rejected by the entire cobalt soul until dairon found her. caleb has trent’s fucked up shit, but he also has this constant pressure of having failed his entire country, not to mention the faceless hate piled up on him from living homeless for a year. jester’s whole deal is that she had to hide from LITERALLY ALL OF SOCIETY for her entire childhood because she wasn’t supposed to exist.

and so, the nein are shitheads to society right back. they’re mean to random barkeeps, they trash their inns and don’t say sorry, they mock most NPCs behind their back (or sometimes right to their face. @ marius).  Every favor asked of them comes with a ton of deliberation and arguing about whether its bait or not (ie bowlgate, the giants in the mine outside rosohna, essiks “favors”). 

but, on the flip side, they’re willing to tug just about anyone into their ranks. if society already hates them by default, what’s there to lose if they get close to someone? nothing, there’s only more love to be found! so it’s adopting random bird girls on the road, its sending cupcakes to a hag that cursed your friend, its sending messages to everyone you’ve ever met just to check in, it’s making someone sit in the hot tub with you and share trauma and then when you find out he started a war you say “we get it bro” and kiss him on the forehead. it’s “welcome to the mighty nein”. 

and it’s also very interesting, i think, to talk about the ways in which the party interacts with themselves. vox machina was a family, undoubtedly, as is the nein now. but vox machina ... had a lack of desperation to their attachment. i mean for one, they took a full year off from adventuring together and scattered cross continent. even if the nein gets down time like they did, i expect they’ll just trail each other around like lemmings. (its kind of what they’ve been doing from hiatus until now with the eiselcross arc starting). 

but vox machina just ... went. and scanlan walked away from the party and (after the heat of the moment), they agreed to just let him be. and pike would spend weeks on quests for sarenrae without much of a complaint. even at the end - and this will be a controversial take, i know - but they let vax go pretty easily. (sure, mechanically they were wiped from fighting, but besides tears the only attempt to defy trq was from percy, which even he gave up on with minimal struggle because vax said to stop it). that’s not to say they don’t miss each other when they’re gone! of course they do!!! but they trust each other to go off into the world, because the world as whole is a place they trust. 

(the one exception to this might be vex, who fought every one of these situations adamantly, but that’s a whole separate essay about her issues stemming from an innate sense of ‘failed family’ that she’s desperate to not repeat, and less about a mistrust of everyone until proven otherwise)

the nein on the other hand. hoo boy. they’ve been hot glued to each other’s hips since day one. So many quotes (many from beau, which could be worked into my previous vex essay, as they’re very much cross-campaign foils. getting sidetracked again) are about their inability to separate. “You don’t get to choose who cares about you”; “No one goes”; “If one of us is gone for more than 7 days assume we’re dead and have a funeral”; “Do we have co-dependecy issues?” Jester’s cool personal vacation to her god’s get together turned into a party with everyone because why would she go anywhere without the nein? Veth’s time with Luc and/or Yeza is constantly overrun with the rest of the nein dropping in for fun. Even small things like shopping trips are so much more “oh well if you’re going then i’ll go” snowballs than they ever were with vm. 

Also, ashley’s absences had to be much more forceful than in c1. Post episode 11, the only time yasha left the group (rather than someone else piloting her) of her own free will was when she ran in grief from molly’s grave. And yes, there’s something to be said about “oh they were on a boat for a long time she had nowhere to go” but if Matt can justify astral projection pike, i feel like he could justify ‘the stormlord teleports yasha away for a bit’ and he chose not to. 

Because!!!!!!!!! of the dynamic that the nein has!!!!!!!! Because of this idea that the world is bad and cold and full of hate and in here in our little hut (soon to be mansion??????) it’s safe and good and full of love and no one can leave because then you’d be going somewhere much more dangerous and we can’t have that, now can we? 

.....

well uh. that’s a lot of words. i hope they made some sense??? and were at all what you were expecting???? thank u for sending the ask tho this was very fun to write!!

tldr: vox machina is a group of people who were betrayed by one bad figure, so they trust the world and are wary of the individual; whereas the nein is a group of people who were failed by the world at large so they welcome the loner and fear the pack. 

#critical role #vox machina #the mighty nein #critical role meta #hey the actual essay bit turned out be 1200 words On The Nose

[so--many-fandoms]

Jaskier is technically a noble, right? So he probably had to go through all the fancy noble tutoring and such, not just for math and literacy and normal school stuff but for etiquette and politics and all the noble-specific training that anyone who might end up ruling at least some portion of land would need.

After Cintra falls, Ciri is the last remaining heir to the throne (unless you start looking into distant cousins and other branches that may or may not exist or have any claim to the throne); either way, assuming they manage to drive nilfgard out someday, she’ll be the next ruler. Do you see where I’m going with this?

At some point, probably a few months after they found eachother, Ciri is going to make some comment about how having her former life destroyed sucks but at least she’s escaped her boring old lineage tutor or something, and Geralt is going to realize that not only is he in charge of raising and protecting a tiny human child, he’s in charge of a royal tiny human child who will one day be the Queen of an entire country. Then he’s going to panic because she definitely needs to be learning things for that but they don’t teach Witchers how to be nobles, he has no idea what she needs to learn, this isn’t like sword fighting, he can’t teach her himself! And so his first thought will probably be Yennefer, because she was a court mage and he had probably already asked her to help teach Ciri magic/control. When he asks, though, she says she can’t help him because while sure, they received some court training at Aretuza, it was all manipulation and making people like you enough to avoid getting killed or fired for accidentally offending some random important noble (its a different story if you did so on purpose, of course). Anyway, she had never learned any of the things nobles had to know, and especially not the kinds of things they taught noble children. She was 0% qualified to be a royal tutor for anything beyond magic, and probably reading/languages (particularly Elder) and maybe math, because some spells definitely involve math to get the correct affect.

So Geralt is still panicking, and now he’s thinking he’s going to somehow have to find some noble that he can trust to know where Ciri is, and worse, what kind of noble would be willing to travel around the continent with a Witcher? So he is thinking that he’s probably going to have to leave Ciri with this random noble for months at a time, because she needs an education and to be prepared to rule but how the fuck is he going to find some noble who’s both willing to look after a Witcher’s kid (who might be the crown princess of a powerful kingdom but is also being hunted by a powerful invading army with a dark mage, any political advantage from fostering her would be negated by the huge target doing so would paint on your back) and trustworthy enough that Geralt could let her out of his sight with them? Now, there are two ways this could go.

1) yennefer Knows Things and decided to take pity on Geralt after he’s so clearly (well, clear to people that know him well(or can read minds)) freaking out over the issue, and casually mentions “isn’t that bard of yours a Viscount or something? Maybe he can help.” Skip Geralt’s what kind of viscount is named Jaskier?? confusion (yen: you didn’t know that’s not his real name?), he immediately goes to track Jaskier down, because even if they haven’t seen eachother since the dragon mountain, and Jaskier might never want to see him again no matter how much he apologizes, he knows Jaskier would never turn on Ciri. He finds him rather quickly because a lot of people are gossiping about the “Toss a Coin” bard who has recently debuted a fantastic new tragic love ballad (Geralt is definitely having Feelings the first time he hears it. Maybe it’s just coincidence that the story of Her Sweet Kiss sounds so familiar? It has to be, right? Right??? Because if not... well. There’s a third person in that song, and Geralt doesn’t think he could possibly have been that blind- but then again, he’d never known his friend was a noble or his name wasn’t actually Jaskier, had he?). Cue lots of reunitement feels and apologies and hugs (and Ciri shipping them from the background). Geralt is so relieved that Jaskier is safe and forgave him that he forgets why he had been looking for him so urgently until Jaskier asks something about where he was going/why he was in town or something like that. Geralt says something about how he’s currently raising a Princess, and he can teach her fighting and survival but he didn’t even know she was supposed to be studying things like a century’s worth of noble family trees and how to tell someone to fuck off with silverware until she mentioned how much more exciting monster-identification-lessons were, and apparently Jaskier is actually a noble? Named Julian??? And Jaskier, being fluent in Geralt, correctly interprets this as “what. Geralt. You want me to be Cirilla’s tutor? The future queen of Cintra? I’m not as young as I look, it’s been decades since I had to think about any of that bullshit, oh, fu-sorry, sorry, small ears, gods. I may be a professor at Oxford for a winter every now and then, but I am NOT a royal tutor! Besides the fact that royals learn things lower nobles don’t, I’m from Rhedania, not Cintra, we use an entirely different fashion language, and they have a weird thing about-” “Jaskier. Where the fuck am I going to find a trustworthy Cintran noble, let alone one qualified to teach her?” “Language! and they- oh. Good point. I suppose I know more about it than you do, at the least. Ugh. If I’m going to have to try to remember all this sh-stuff, I definitely am going to need some books. Cintra’s library would be best, country specific info and all, but there’s no way we’re going to get any of that, if it hasn’t burned already. Maybe Oxenfurt? If we-” “make a list. Yen has... resources.” “Well that’s terrifyingly ominous. And I hope you’re planning on letting me teach her music too, if we’re going to have to put up with all this stuffy etiquette!”

2) Yennefer doesn’t say anything, either because she figures Geralt must already know and have chosen not to go to Jaskier for some reason or because she never bothered to pay enough attention to Jaskier to find out herself. Geralt leaves to continue on his way to Kaer Morhen or just Away, because they’re still too close to Nilfgard’s front line for his comfort, and assumes that he’s just going to have to wait for the war to end to find a trustworthy noble who can teach her. On the way, they hear that Jaskier is just a couple of towns out of their way and decide to go find him because Geralt has been wanting to apologize for being a dick for months but he’d been too focused on Ciri’s safety to track him down (or maybe they just walk into a tavern and he’s there, preforming, and it’s awkward and angsty and leaves Ciri wishing she could lend them a brain cell or two because clearly they have none). Geralt apologizes, angst is had, feelings are aired. In the end, Jaskier decides to follow them because he’s missed Geralt and also he’s kind of famous for being the White Wolf’s Bard, and if Nilfgard is looking for Geralt a squishy (mostly?)human bard is a much easier target than a Witcher, and so he should also probably be heading away from the war and who is he to deny the extra protection of traveling together? Anyway, after they’ve been reunited for a few days or weeks, Jaskier gets fed up because he knows Geralt has been angsting over something, and at first he thought it was related to the whole reunion drama but it’s been long enough and it clearly has not gotten better. So he waits until Ciri is asleep and ambushes Geralt with concerned questions because sometimes the element of surprise was the only way to get him to spill things regarding feelings. Geralt knows he won’t give up, so he tells him about how he’s worried because he can do his best to protect Ciri physically, but he never thought himself qualified to raise a child, let alone a princess who will inherit a kingdom, and he knows there are a lot of things she should be learning to be ready for her future responsibilities but he had never had anything even resembling a noble education, and Yennefer may have been a court mage but she didn’t either, and unless Jaskier had some secret noble lover who would be willing to travel with them and live in a castle full of Witchers for however long the war lasted, he wasn’t going to be able to give her the education she needed until at least after the war, and she’d probably be expected to take the throne at that point so clearly that would be an issue, because while on the job training is great the fate of the kingdom would be in the balance, and- (okay, a lot of that was probably Jaskier reading between the lines. Geralt would never have spoken that much, but he was definitely thinking all of it, and Jaskier had gotten quite good at reading his Witcher over the years, thank you very much). “Geralt. You do know I’m technically a Viscount, right?” *confused silence* “Sure, I might not know every detail about Cintra’s trade history or some of the more royal-specific stuff, and it’s been a while since I had my own lessons, but if I had to sit through 16 years of unbearable Nobility Education, I may as well do something useful with it. I might not be at all qualified under normal circumstances, but I’m definitely better than nothing, right? And I can easily make learning it much more interesting than some stuffy old tutor or governess. Do you know how much easier it is to memorize dates and names when set to music?” “What the fuck.” “Oh, and literature! Rhetoric! Grammar! Not necessarily vital to ruling, you have scribes for a reason, but really words are one of the few things I actually am officially qualified to teach. No reason I shouldn’t go the whole way if I’m already doing this, and a good education is an important tool for anyone.”

#the witcher #im sorry this is so long #if only i had this much motivation for my essays #geraskier #jaskieralt? #ciri #cirilla fiona elen riannon #i love her #honestly i love all of them

[mareliini]

of Tangled and Corona and fictional maps

lads i just got up with pure spite bc my morning eyes fell into this post and to yet another “official” map and I want to talk about this. Listen. A couple of friends and I are going semi-feral over maps plastered in tts so it’s time to share that small collection and also yell. Presented below

1. Strategy room map

(ignore the fact the screencap is from rapunzeltopia. It doesn’t matter, only the rock placement is different and also nonexistent in the real map. I couldn’t bother my ass to go find a pic of the real map from s1 bc Fred always stands on the way and it doesn’t matter)

Immediate notes: Corona is positioned on a peninsula. There’s no way to tell the scale of the map but it appears to be rough topography map (argument point: mountains are drawn and not showed like they usually would but I’m a bitch and will ignore than in favour of ranting about that weird worm formation on north). (Seriously what’s up with that weird formation what could it be)

North of the country appears to be quite flat and near the ocean level while south of the country is higher ground (this at least pairs up with the “official” map which i will talk about later).

Wall... sure exists, but its placement in relation to sunflower spot and corona main city baffles me.

Sea monster status: hiding behind too fancy north arrow

2. Varian’s map

(screencapped and very fervently edited in ms paint by your’s truly. It’s missing some bits and pieces but also I’m not redoing it)

Immediate notes: starts the long line of “Varian appearing with some funky perspective map please learn to draw them like a sane person would” nightmare maps, yet somehow still the most accurate description of the country.

The peninsula shape is WILDY different from the strategy room map and they each have different river and lake formations. Peninsula here appears a lot smaller and shorter, and while we see some resemblance for scaling in the border, there’s no explanation for it still. Waterfall visible in some other maps is further south here and whole country seems to be more or less mountain/hill area.

Corona might have some map tradition of drawing maps only relevant for certain areas (Old Corona has given lots of detail here down to the field placements compared to other villages or to the capital which leads me to think other places might do the same). By style it tries to emulate old timey maps which is fine, bc they were all more or less mind maps.

Wall: has towers now

Sea monster status: it apparently exists but I cut it out (friend pointed out)

3. Movie map and book map

(Book map pic credit at the link at the very start of this hellshow of a post) I’m putting these two together bc from the bunch, they resemble each others the most (and are also only maps not shown in the series). Movie credit map seems to be almost identical for book map, just zoomed in.

Immediate notes: this is? drawn by Eugene? (I said and rewatched s2e3 which revealed man can’t draw shit but still) We have a scale now but un-fUCKING-FORTUNATELY it tells us shit. We can always assume that 0 ---- Kilometres means ---- is 1km, but there’s really no way telling that and thus I sadly have to ignore it. It’s also a mind map yet again, does corona...... does corona have any real geographers? no?

Capital placement differs from show maps and so does the peninsula shape, again. Unlike previous maps where landmass kept growing north, here it caps off, indicating even longer peninsula Corona is only a part of. South part of the country appears to be high cliffs while north part has fields and villages, which pairs with strategy room topography map, but could also just be weird perspective. Nothing’s so far explaining the worm formation.

Waterfall I pointed out in previous map actually factoid error, it is here in the same mountain area too. The out-of-the-country bridge is further south compared to varian’s map, but Old corona has still weirdly got lots of focus (ya telling me this bitch ass country got only two bigger towns??). Movie&book map has other, mostly movie related details not relevant and thus not visible in show maps, which saddens me a bit bc hey........ maps.... should be equal..... show us the dam in other maps too you cowards...

Wall: doesnt run from sea to sea, has towers

Sea monster status: definitely there

4. Spire map

Lord forgive me from ever trying to screencap this monster. Whoever did this should be both publicly shamed and fired from making any more maps, I have no words. Friend yelled in chat when I showed this. It’s a spawn of satan and not in a wholesome blue exorcist way.

Immediate notes: Burn it. There’s no north arrow, but based on Capital’s position north is either up or up-left corner (depending on which maps we go by). Neither of those position saves this map from the fact that thERE IS NO LANDMASS IN SOUTH OF CORONA THAT COULD FIT ALL OF THIS. IT’S A PENINSULA. THE WHOLE TIP OF PENINSULA IS CORONA. FUCK OFF-

Wall: Schrödinger's wall at this point

Sea monster status: finally defeated, like my sanity

5. Strategy map vol2

for some reason they had time to place down individual trees yet there’s no fields and also the river is all wrong when compared to reality.

Immediate notes: a clear example of really zoomed in map, the whole portion of the country between capital and old corona is skipped and that’s fine. North arrow comparable with previous show maps but not with movie&book map so it feels like they exist in entirely different universe where whole continent is slightly sifted to north-east.

I’d want to believe this maps gives more accurate reading to Old corona than Varian’s map, giving it’s nature, but it also does.... have the river all wrong and it drives me so mad.

Wall: is there

Sea monster status: left

- Bonus map for the geologists *blows kiss*

I am so sorry but they just bullshitted that particular group project there is no way, listen. I appreciate the effort clearly done here in cataloguing rock placements in what appears to be Old corona but a) they are facing south (Capital is always to the west and can be seen in the bg here) and you’re making pure assumptions based on how they are behaving on the very edges of your east border there and b) thAT PARTICULAR PIECE OF PAPER, LISTEN, that particular piece of paper is positioned smack under Old corona and it’s tunnel system yet you nuckleheads somehow think it’s comparable for the island’s tunnel system oN THE OTHER SIDE OF YOUR COUNTRY CAN YOU EVER STOP TO THINK-

--

I do have the map of s2 places but given how shitass of a map it is I chose not to include it here. It makes me so angry. Not quite as angry as the Spire map but it’s up there and I do not want to think about it. Also I don’t think it was even meant to be accurate or show any real continents so looking at it would give u nothing.

#tangled the series #tts #rta #omat paskat #I will keep you posted on new map discoveries but seeing how we're in s2 I'm not holding my breath #tangled #for friend's blocklist ur welcome also keep liveblogging it to me #i know you wont see that tag but still i enjoy it

[erin-gilberts]

Bc It’s such a good post will you answer all the cafe asks?

Yessss totally! 

Vanilla Chai Latte : Are you in love?

Yes, wholeheartedly and unapologetically, I am. 

My girlfriend and I have only been together for two months, but it’s one of those things where when you know, you know. I’ve been in relationships lasting upwards of a year where I still didn’t know at the end of them whether or not I was in love. Early on in the year, I was actually even having conversations with my mom about how I wasn’t sure I’d ever been in love; I had no concept of what that felt like. I didn’t feel like I was feeling what I was supposed to be in relationships. I wondered if I was aromantic and if I wasn’t meant to experience romantic love.

With her, I’ve realized everything love IS supposed to feel like, and I’ve realized I AM capable of feeling those feelings - I just hadn’t met the right person yet. My heart was waiting for her. 

We daydream of the life we intend to build together, and it delights me to be able to wake up every day and choose her, again and again, as we run boldly and breathlessly into the future we now share. We totally u-hauled but we’re both so committed to blooming and becoming together; it’s unlike anything I’ve ever experienced before despite having quite a bit of experience in relationships. 

Flat White : Coffee or Tea?

Coffee. It feels more substantial to me with more ways to customize it exactly how you like it. I also just have a lot of really positive memories being in coffee shops! I’m currently obsessing over Starbucks’s seasonal salted caramel mocha. 

Cappuccino : What’s your middle name?

Elizabeth! I was named after my mother and grandmother, so it’s the only part of my birth name I kept when I changed my name. 

Mocha : Dream Job?

A famous professional organizer on the same level as Marie Kondo and Dorothy Breininger! They’re my inspiration and the reason I went into this kind of work. Also, the executive director of my own LGBT-focused nonprofit (which I have been, and I intend to be again!). 

Pumpkin Spice : Dream car?

The super fancy bike I’ll use the day I ride in the AIDS LifeCycle? Haha, I don’t drive and I don’t intend to! 

Jasmine Tea : If you could go anywhere in the world, where would it be and why?

Ugh, if I could visit any place in the world right this moment, I’d choose to go back to Toronto in a heartbeat. I went there in 2015 for the Inside Out LGBT Film Festival and I LOVED that city. It was so fun and the people were so welcoming. Other than that? Moscow, because it’s where @googoogojob lives, or New York City, because I just learned Hook & Ladder 8 (the Ghostbusters firehouse) is a real place and I want to see it! 

Old English : You’re stranded on an island, who do you bring with you?

Do I have a limit?? If I have a choice, I’m definitely bringing my mom, brother, maternal grandparents, best friend, best friend’s family, cat, and girlfriend! That’s like the minimum amount of people in my life I couldn’t go without. 

Iced Chocolate : Do you have a crush on someone?

My girlfriend, who I continually redevelop a big gay crush on every day! But I feel like that’s not quite the spirit of what this question is asking, so - I also have a big gay crush on Kristen Wiig, which my girlfriend endlessly makes fun of me for! Like, to the point I named my cat Erin Gilbert. 

Caramel Frappe : Favorite video game?

It’s a tie between Minecraft and Undertale. I swing wildly between playing Minecraft daily to not playing for months, but it never gets old. The sandbox nature of the game enables infinite creativity, and the low stakes make it both accessible to me (not a gamer) and relaxing. And Undertale with its story and unique mechanics remains to this day the game to inspire the biggest emotional response in me. I’ve thought about having, “Despite everything, it’s still you” tattooed. 

Iced Lemon Tea : Favorite song/band?

My favorite songs of all time are “The Greatest” by Sia and “I Know a Place” by MUNA, both of which were written in the aftermath of the Pulse shooting and can be interpreted as the process of rediscovering queer joy at the same time your community is constantly faced with tragedy and pain. They hit hard in a beautiful way as a hate crime survivor. 

Iced Cafe Mocha : Favorite thing to do on rainy days?

I like to go out as soon as the storm passes and just walk downtown in the rain. The air always smells and feels so good; it clarifies me and I feel renewed. Walking in the light rain or before / after the storm always feels like breathing, really breathing, for the first time. It reminds me I exist and it reminds me that’s neat. 

Hot Chocolate : Are you an affectionate person?

Yessssss oh my god. I live and breathe being affectionate and not even in a strictly romantic sense. I’m naturally an exuberant person and I delight in making people happy. My girlfriend would also say I engage in “cat behavior” with my demands to be held or touching constantly. XD 

Caramel Macchiato : You’re travelling the entire world but you can only take one person with you. Who do you take?

My girlfriend @sweetmckinnon. Not only would we have the unprecedented opportunity to be gay in every country and continent, but we’re both writers, and we’d write an excellent book about these adventures! 

Green Tea : How tall are you?

5’7. 

Early Grey Tea : The inevitable Zombie Apocalypse is upon us! What’s your plan of action?

I’m rounding up everyone I care about and taking us to the nearest commune of marginalized people. We’ll be avoiding those uber-macho survivalist types like the plague, because their arrogance will 100% get everyone killed. At least marginalized communities would be more likely to understand working together and looking out for the community, not just yourself. 

Mint Tea : How do you relax?

Indoor cycling is my drug of choice. It’s HARD to be mad or stressed when you’re exerting that intensely. I might also write self-indulgent fanfics or indulge in a little controlled chaos (I’m an acrylic pour and collage artist). And talking to my girlfriend, best friend, or mom always makes me feel better, too. 

Vanilla Latte : Board games or drinking games?

I genuinely love board games and wish I had more people to play them with. 

Iced Coffee : Do you like reading? If so, what’s your favorite book?

I like reading, but having ADHD has made it extremely hard to read entire books in recent years. My favorite book is probably The Radium Girls by Kate Moore. The author takes what’s already a horrific story and a dark chapter in American history and with her devastating writing style, humanizes each woman involved to the point it makes you ache to read knowing the inevitability of their fate. Anytime anyone asks me for a book recommendation, this is the book I suggest. 

Italian Soda : Describe your dream date

My dream date would be after we’ve been together for a while - maybe on a date that’s special to us, like our anniversary, or maybe just on a random night because we feel like it, we have one of those super romantic dates like you see in the movies. We dress up super cute, go out to dinner and come home to a bedroom full of candles and rose petals on the floor, and every moment is spent just enjoying each other and what we have together in every way we can. <3 

Sparkling Water : Describe what qualities you look for in a person

Passion - I’m an activist who became the executive director of their own nonprofit at the age of 16. I’m not going to mesh with someone who’s just going through the motions of life without any aspirations. 

Flexibility - It’s a turnoff for me when someone is EXTREMELY committed to a very specific view of how their life is going to be. It tells me right away I’m going to have to continually contort myself to fit into their unbending path, because I accept I can’t predict the direction of my life with any degree of precision and I’m not rigid about it as a result. 

Creative - I’m currently dating another writer and it’s the most fun I’ve ever had in a relationship. The quickest way to get us to pop off into a spirited debate is to get us started about story structure and characterization. We. Go. OFF. And could go off for days. Our shared creative passion gives us endless ground to connect and bond on. 

Those are just a few, but definitely a few important ones for me! 

Orange Juice : Have you ever had a valentine?

My first girlfriend, who I dated from 12-17, is the only valentine I’ve ever had. The timing of my relationships as an adult has never worked out for me to be partnered on Valentine’s Day. We weren’t super out about our relationship at the time and didn’t spend Valentine’s Day together, but I still have the love letters she sent me copied into my 7th grade diary, and I still have the antique gold heart necklace with enamel roses she gave me one year, too! Lots of lovely memories from that relationship. 

Rose Hip Tea : Describe your first kiss

My first girlfriend and I were 12-13, cutting class in the bathroom because she was often bullied for her sexuality. She was having an especially rough day that day and I knew exactly where to find her. She kissed me out of the blue while I was comforting her and in all of my baby gay naivety, I hadn’t fully realized I was gay or that she liked me that way prior to that. Turns out I was and she did. We dated for five years. 

Herbal Tea : You’re at a candle shop, what scented candle do you buy?

Oh, I’m going right to the bakery scent section. I’m not a huge fan of chocolate-scented candles, but vanilla? Christmas cookies? Gingerbread? Sign me the FUCK up. 

Sandalwood is also one of my favorite scents, but depending on what it’s blended with, it can be hit or miss for me in candles. 

[eldritchsurveys]

873.

5k Survey I

1. Who are you? >> I’m Mordred. 2. What are the 3 most important things everyone should know about you? >> I’m sensory-defensive and post-traumatic, I'm part of a multiple system, and I’m a fictional character.    3. When you aren’t filling out 5,000 question surveys like this one what are you doing? >> Taking way shorter surveys. When I’m not taking surveys at all, I’m posting on tumblr or pillowfort, reading, playing video games, researching video game lore, watching a movie or show, or trying to manage my hellbrain (which is a whole separate task in itself). 4. List your classes in school from the ones you like the most to the ones you like the least (or if you are out of school, think of the classes you did like and didn’t like at the time). >> I do my best not to think about school, the last bit of which was 15 years ago anyway. 5. What is your biggest goal for this year? >> I don’t make goals like that.

6. Where do you want to be in 5 years? >> It’s inconceivable to me to plan ahead that far. Even to think ahead that far seems silly and pointless to my very present-focused (and past-haunted) mind.

7. What stage of life are you in right now? >> Adulthood. Just the general “adulthood” between hectic young adulthood and transitional middle age. 8. Are you more child-like or childish? >> I’m not child-like or childish. I simply understand that the division between “childhood” and “adulthood” isn’t nearly as cut-and-dried as society has organised it for the sake of legality and social interaction, and I also understand that the desire to escape childhood and “childish things” is a conceit of the young, who wish to be seen as grown and independent creatures (which is part of development! it makes perfect sense). By the time you get to your thirties, it really stops mattering. You know you’re an adult. You know that being an adult means you have the freedom to do whatever you want (as far as leisure and play and stuff like that goes, I mean), which means you can sit in your pjs watching cartoons and eating sugar cereal if you like, and no parent can chide you for it, and your peers can fuck off if they don’t like it. (The “adult” part of doing that is knowing to stop after one and a half bowls of said cereal, lmao. It’s all a balance, innit?)

9. What is the last thing you said out loud? >> I don’t remember. 10. What song comes closest to how you feel about your life right now? >> I don’t think there’s any song that can capture that. Or, maybe there is, but I don’t know about it. 11. Have you ever taken martial arts classes? >> No. I’ve been interested, but frankly, I can’t afford anything like that. 12. Does your life tend to get better or worse or does it just stay the same? >> There is no set trajectory, like that. Life has high points and low points, and the majority of it is really spent somewhere in the middle. It’s just that we focus on the high points and the low points most often (and when the low points are particularly low, they often end up defining our entire existence, even when we’re in the middle or even at high points).   13. Does time really heal all wounds? >> It’s not time that does it. Time just always happens to pass while the healing is being done, so we figure it’s the most common denominator. It takes work to heal, not just passively sitting around waiting for it to happen. 14. How do you handle a rainy day? >> I bring an umbrella, if I have to go out. Usually I don’t, so I just... do what I would do normally? 15. Which is worse…losing your luggage or having to sort out tangled holiday lights? >> Obviously losing your luggage... 16. How is your relationship with your parents? Will you miss them when they are gone? >> We have no relationship. There will be nothing to miss. 17. Do you tend to be aware of what is going on around you? >> Yeah. Especially since I’m prone to hypervigilance. 18. What is the truest thing that you know? >> The truest thing that I know is that I don’t know shit, and neither does anyone else. We’re all just elaborately guessing about shit, and interpreting reality the best way we can. Which is great, really. The fact that we keep trying to understand shit is cool. Just... “the map is not the territory” kind of applies to a lot of the stuff we think we know. ...Or not, right? After all, what do I know? :p 19. What did you want to be when you grew up? >> I just wanted to be free. 20. Have you ever been given a second chance? >> Probably. 21. Are you more of a giver or a taker? >> I’m a fair amount of both, being, you know, a person. 22. Do you make your decisions with an open heart/mind? >> I make my decisions the best way I know how. Whatever that means. 23. What is the most physically painful thing that has ever happened to you? >> Menstrual cramps. 24. What is the most emotionally painful thing that has ever happened to you? >> Yeah, right, like I’m going to be able to rank that. 25. Who have you hugged today? >> No one. 26. Who has done something today to show they care about you? >> --- 27. Do you have a lot to learn? >> Of course. I don’t necessarily have to learn all of it, but it sure is out there. 28. If you could learn how to do three things just by wishing and not by working what would they be? >> I don’t think that would be of any benefit to me. As much as I balk at taking those long uphill journeys to skillfulness, I feel like those journeys are beneficial and aid one’s growth. I’d rather not just snap my fingers and have a djinni grant me abilities like that. 29. Which do you remember the longest: what other people say, what other people do or how other people make you feel? >> How what other people do and say makes me feel. 30. What are the key ingredients to having a good relationship? >> Meh. 31. What 3 things do you want to do before you die? >> I don’t have a list like this. 32. What three things would you want to die to avoid doing? >> I think I would rather die than be incarcerated. So I’d take the death penalty if I could avoid a life imprisonment sentence... 33. Is there a cause you believe in more than any other cause? >> Not particularly. 34. What does each decade make you think of? The 1920’s: Prohibition. Wait, was that the 20s or the 30s? 30’s: World War II. 40’s: The rest of WWII. 50’s: I just think of... all the propaganda images from that era. You know, all the... domestic Whiteness... also, weird foods like meat aspic. 60’s: Hippies and Woodstock. 70’s: The Vietnam War (and the protests). 80’s: Hair metal. 90’s: Grunge and weird television/movies. 2000 : Well, I was an adult for most of this decade, and more or less aware of the world, so I don’t have a succinct “concept” of the aughts the way I have for decades that I didn’t live through, that I only have historical knowledge of. 2010’s: ^

35. Which decade do you feel the most special connection to and why? >> I feel an emotional connection to the spirit of the nineties. I don’t feel like trying to organise my words to explain why, I feel like that would take a lot of energy right now and I still have fifteen questions to go. 36. What is your favorite oldie/classic rock song? >> I don’t have one particular favourite. 37. What country do you live in and who is the leader of that country? >> United States. Donald Trump is president, weirdly enough. If you could say any sentence to the current leader of your country what would it be? >> I’d rather not, thanks. 38. What’s your favorite TV channel to watch in the middle of the night? >> I don’t watch television in the middle of the night... 39. What Disney villain are you the most like and why? >> That’s a great question, but the thing about Disney villains is that I don’t relate to them as much as I just love watching them do what they do. Like, my favourite is Judge Frollo, but I don’t think it’s because I have anything in common with him. Or, hell, maybe I would burn down an entire city because I don’t know how to handle the fact that I really want to bone this superbly hot chick. (My actual favourite villain is Catholic Guilt.) 40. Have you ever been a girl scout/boy scout? >> Briefly. 41. If you were traveling to another continent would you rather fly or take a boat? >> I would rather fly. I feel like boat travel would take a particularly long time and I’m not into that. 42. Why is the sky blue during the day and black at night? >> Oh, you know. Science. (I’m not Google.) 43. What does your name mean? >> I’m not sure anyone really knows what “Mordred” means. 44. Would you rather explore the depths of the ocean or outer space? >> Outer space. 45. What is the first word that comes to mind when you see the word: Air: Astrology. Meat: Beef. Different: Strokes. Pink: Panther. Deserve: Entitlement. White: Power, unfortunately. Been reading about too many fucking Nazis lately. Elvis: Pelvis. Magic: Mountain. Heart: Head. Clash: Punk. Pulp: Fiction.

46. If you could meet any person in the world who is dead who would you want it to be? >> I don’t care about this. 47. What if you could meet anyone who is alive? >> I still don’t care. 48. Is there a movie that you love so much you could watch it everyday? >> Of course not. I did watch Event Horizon every day for like a month, but I was in the psych ward at the time. What the fuck else would I have done anyway? 49. You are going to be stuck alone in an elevator for a week. What do you bring to do? >> What do I bring to do?! That’s definitely the least of my concerns with a hypothetical like this. I can’t fucking survive in an elevator for a week, dude. 50. Have you ever saved someone’s life or had your life saved? >> Doubtful.

#surveys #survey #5000 question survey

[withloveishi]

When You Have 64 Crayons But Only Use Goldenrod (Southeast Asian Underrepresentation in the Context of “Asian” Culture)

TO NOTE: I will be using Japanese culture and experience to synthesize some of the broader points I’m getting at, mostly to exemplify what I mean by the East Asian experience. In doing so, I surmise some similar cultural and experiential examples in other East Asian countries (i.e. Kpop, Kdramas, etc.). If you have problems, you can bring them up with my non-existent care for your opinion, at least on this point.

ANOTHER NOTE: I talk a lot about East Asian and Southeast Asian representation full knowing that there is also a deficit in South Asian representation in the states. I am unable to elaborate on the experiences of South Asian people (because I don’t have any experiences to elaborate on, nor am I South Asian) but, they also deserve the same amount of representation at Southeast and East Asian people.

ANOTHER ANOTHER NOTE, BUT IT’S AN OPEN NOTE: I am not any sort of *insert subregion of Asia* Cultural Studies Major. So deep anthropological analysis and citation of scholarly journals is not in my arsenal. All I’m doing is using some of my life experiences and observations to draw some vaguely profound, and mostly bulshit conclusion to a very large issue. If you have a problem with that, just let me know.

Being in college has challenged me to think about all parts of my identity, not just the parts that are most convenient. For as long as I can remember, I’ve always played into and written about my experiences being Japanese far more than my experiences being Filipino. And why did I do this? I’m not quite sure (After all, I am not very smart), but I do have theories about my generally fucked up view of identity. Considering the external culture and people I have always surrounded myself, East Asian culture was just more recognizable than Southeast Asian (SEA) culture. In order for me to seem more relatable or recognizable to others, I play off of my Japanese identity more. And if you don’t understand this, try this little exercise.

Which do you recognize more?

Anime or Teleseryes

Ramen or Sotanghon

Japanese or Tagalog

I’m hoping many of you are smart enough and have figured the point I’m trying to get at. But if you haven’t, then keep reading. I’m sure you’ll catch my drift the more you read more paragraphs of my point, reiterated less and less eloquently each time.

Now don’t get me wrong, I’m very pleased to see a rise in East Asian representation, both in the form of pop culture that has found its way to the states, like anime and kpop, and in the stories being told from the East Asian perspective. However, it’s kind of odd to see “Crazy Rich Asians” and “Attack on Titan” be the height of East Asian representation, and the tag on your clothes that say “Made in Cambodia” as the height of SEA representation. Even then, “Made in China” occurs more frequently than that, so really, there’s just no SEA representation in comparison.

The point I’m trying to (unsuccessfully) get across is the relationship between the amount of representation something gets and how that influences what we believe is reality: a concept simultaneously not new and entirely new. From the Vietnam War to Instagram, it is a concept that has reappeared time and time again, and but one no one seems to learn from.

When people (especially non-Southeast Asian people) are surrounded by predominantly East Asian culture and experiences, the SEA culture and experiences get lost among popularization of these things. When our surrounding floods us with the culture of East Asian countries without another frame of cultural reference, our frame of what is considered Asian is becomes predominantly, if not entirely, consumed by East Asian ideals. To some of you out there, I’m sure it feels somewhat ridiculous to excuse the existence of an entire chunk of Asia, but it happens. Now I’m not asking for the hit drama Pangako Sa ‘Yo to hit Netflix any time soon, but there needs to be a way where we shift our lens of what we call Asian from just considering East Asia to the literal whole of Asia. Or conversely, using East Asian, Southeast Asia and South Asia to describe these regions separately.

     However, the million dollar question (or however much money my opinions are worth in this world): why the fuck do I care so much? Well, I’m sort of obligated to, because it’s in my blood.

    In my own life, I’ve veered towards adopting a more Japanese externality. Why? Because people care more about you if you do that in my area. I wanted people to either relate to me or find some sense of understanding or who I was on what could be considered, “an authentic portrayal of myself”. Because after all, saying I’m Japanese is not a lie, it’s just not entirely the truth. If I say I’m Japanese, people then find some common ground with me, either on the basis of Anime or Manga, or just how much they “love Japanese people”. When I say I’m Filipino, many people react with, “Oh, isn’t that where *insert really awful political or social news headline here*?” or “Duerte?”. For me, it’s just more convenient to open with being Japanese. But why do I ignore that literal fact that I’m only half Japanese; probably for a couple main reasons:

Like I said in the beginning, I’m half Japanese and Half Filipino, I had a choice. Many of my friends who are fully SEA are confronted with their identity because both their parents are of SEA decent. There’s no work around to your identity. You deal with it because that is fully who you are. Me, on the other hand, have the foot on two different borders. Being half Japanese gave me an escape to having to confront my Filipino identity. Because being Japanese is on the “more culturally familiar ground”, I just chose to lead with that.

My mom never really elaborated on her experience as a Filipino woman. I don't think she was ashamed of it, but she never really cared to talk about her childhood, or her experiences emigrating to the states for school as a Filipino woman. Those were never topics of discussion between me an her. So, it naturally faded to the background, especially coupled with my dad’s poignant conversations about his experience and my grandma’s experience being Japanese.

Consider that last point. The non-existence of my mom’s Filipino perspective to things allowed me to adopt an almost entirely Japanese externality to myself, and feel okay with doing that for a very long time of my life. By mentioning this, I’m trying to make it a point that I understand how easy it is to dismiss the SEA viewpoint when it is not the reality we have to face head on. When we both have a path to ignorance laid out for us, plus all signs telling us to follow that path, it’s really hard to do otherwise.

Unlike many of the people at my college, I am not the most socially aware person. So I’m not always quite sure how to go about tackling these really large-scale issues. But here’s my take on forming a somewhat organized opinion on this issue.

In a world where our trajectory is heavily influenced but our unchoosable characteristics (like race, ethnicity, sexual orientation, etc.), it become increasingly more important to then at least categorize people by vaguely correct assumptions. The matter of the fact is that East Asian people and SEA people are not on same platform. When my mom had me, she refused to teach me Tagalog for a long time, because she was under the belief that Tagalog would make me dumb, or seem dumb. She was under the impression that by Tagalog being a SEA language, that it would make me seem inferior to others. Conversely, if I knew Japanese or Mandarin, I would be considered smarter and more articulate than other people. This is the world we live in. So, to use the identifier “Asian”, we are asking people to reach a certain expectation that they are simply unable to achieve.

However, assuming you don’t care about any of that, look at it from a black and white perspective. To use “Asia” or “Asian” to describe anything but the continent of Asia or someone from Asia is just the more incorrect term. If you have the option to be specific and correct, why not do that? “Southeast Asian” is just two more syllables than “Asian” and “East Asian” just one. It’s very simple.

The matter of the fact is that we cannot allow SEA stories to become lost, especially at the foot of East Asian culture. And the only way for that to happen is to give it an equal opportunity to represent itself. More Southeast Asian perspectives being represented in TV and movies, more education of Southeast Asian culture not cast in a negative light, and pushing the teaching of Southeast Asian languages. This is how we do it. And no, a new documentary on the corrupt government in the Philippines is not the representation I’m asking for. For now, documentaries on street food in Vietnam and fun little tourist advertisements for the Himalayas will have to do.

I know this was a long post, and I’m sure I missed a lot of things. This might have pissed some of you off. I didn’t intentionally try and miss anything, but if something irked you really badly, I’m happy to re edit this post. As always just let me know. It helps me gain more perspective on an issue I am still trying to understand myself.

If you read this far down, let me know! I’m always excited when more than zero people read my writing, and even more so, when they enjoy reading it. Thanks so much for your time kids, and I’ll see you whenever.

[haberdashing]

Spider-Void: Tragic Backstory

Exactly what it says on the tin. (Don’t say I didn’t warn you.)

on AO3

A Beginning / on AO3

Adaptation / on AO3

Note: This chapter includes a detailed account of a fictional mass shooting incident. If that may be a problem for you, I would recommend that you skip this chapter.

Adrian didn’t have too many options when it came to sharing information about their newfound superpowers with people.

They had lost track of all their friends from high school and college, which Adrian liked to think was for a number of complicated reasons, but really, in the end, it all boiled down to them not putting in the effort to maintain those relationships, and one by one their old friends stopped reaching out to them in turn.

They had some friends on the Internet, which was great- really, it was great, they were great- but they were hesitant to talk about something so big with those friends, unsure how much their Internet friends could help from states or countries or continents away, worried that one way or another anything they said on the Internet would get shared and traced back to them.

Their extended family had basically turned their backs on them entirely the moment they came out as agender, which, honestly, fuck them. If they couldn’t accept Adrian for who they really were, then who gave a shit about them, really?

(Adrian tried not to think about how they had been so close to a number of those same relatives during their childhood and adolescence, about exactly how many budding familial relationships had been completely and utterly destroyed by one uncomfortable truth.)

Adrian was an only child, so there were no siblings for them to reach out to or lean on in this time of need.

And their mother wasn’t around anymore. She had died in a car accident when Adrian was fourteen. It wasn’t pretty. (Even after years of therapy, Adrian still had never been able to bring themself to get behind the wheel. Which, they supposed, was now suddenly a non-issue. One small upside there.)

Which left... their father.

Their father, who Adrian’s phone showed was calling them now, a little over a week after their unexpected overnight transformation.

Adrian hesitated for a moment before taking the phone call.

“Adrian?”

Adrian let out a soft laugh, and then wondered as their laughter faded if their voice had always sounded so high-pitched and childish.

“Yeah, it’s me.”

“I just thought I’d check up on you. It’s been a while, you know.” Adrian’s father didn’t say that he wished Adrian had thought to call him rather than vice versa. Adrian’s father didn’t have to say it; Adrian knew just the same.

“I know, I’m sorry, I’ve just been caught up with work.” Not a lie, exactly. They weren’t good with lies, and they certainly knew better than to try lying to their father, who might as well have been a living lie detector. But they had been caught up with work, had buried themself in projects so they had something on their mind besides the whole superpower transformation weirdness, and thus minutes had turned to days with them barely noticing.

“My dear child, always the busy little worker bee.”

Adrian couldn’t quite tell if that was sarcasm on their father’s part.

“I’ve been busy too, actually,” he continued. “I’ve been working a big case the last few weeks, but it finally wrapped up today.”

“Uh, that’s good, I guess.”

Adrian knew what their father was going to request before the words could leave his lips.

“Hey, Adrian, can we meet up after I finish work tonight?”

Knowing in advance didn’t make the blow any softer.

Because Adrian wanted to meet their father, they really did, but...

But going out like this wasn’t an option.

And meeting their father like this definitely wasn’t an option.

“Uh, I don’t know...”

“Come on, it’ll be fun! We can go to that cafe you like so much, the one with the chocolate croissants, I always forget the name-”

“Cafe Amito.” Adrian answered reflexively.

“That’s the one! I’ll swing by around six, get two croissants- one for me, one for you- and you can drop by when you finish up with your work, how about it?”

“Uh.” The silence hung in the air uncomfortably, almost tangibly. “I’m not sure if I can-”

That was a lie, of course. They were sure. Sure that they couldn’t meet up, as much as they wished they could.

“Sure you can! Aren’t you always saying how flexible your work schedule is? Can’t you make a little room in it for your dear old dad?”

Adrian’s insides tensed up. “It’s not that, it’s just, uh, well, it’s complicated- wait, aren’t you supposed to be cutting back on your sugar?”

Their father laughed a little. “You’re right, I am. I guess you’d better get there before I eat your croissant, too, then.”

“Wait, Dad, I-”

“See you there!”

Click.

Adrian let out a long sigh as they stared at their phone, the call over, hoping that their relationship with their father wasn’t over along with it.

As they sat there and stared, however, they began to form an idea.

They couldn’t actually meet their father at the cafe, but maybe, if they did everything just right, they would get the chance to see him all the same.

Adrian pulled together an outfit made entirely of black clothing, including that ski mask they’d bought on a whim months ago and never actually wore, even in the depths of winter. Their skin blended in with their clothing, making their appearance look significantly less, well, freakish. Good. Between the black clothing and the evening sky growing darker and darker, maybe nobody would give them a second look.

Next, they opened one of their windows.

And looked down.

And gulped.

Part of them suspected that this wasn’t actually that good of a plan after all; part of them was determined to follow through with it nonetheless.

And sure, their spider webbing had held out firmly enough when they were swinging from room to room earlier.

But it was one thing to jump into the air and swing from the top of a doorframe, and it was an entirely different thing to jump from their fourth-story apartment and hope that they would manage to swing to safety before hitting the ground.

They thought about what a bad idea this whole plan was.

They wondered if they could stick to the side of their apartment building like they had stuck to their ceiling before, if that might be a way to save themself if their webbing failed them.

They were pretty sure that even if that didn’t pan out, either, falling four stories wouldn’t kill them. Probably. And hey, they had super-healing, right? What doesn’t kill you makes you stronger, and all that?

They closed their eyes and let out a long breath before jumping.

They looked at the closest building that wasn’t their own and focused really, really hard on getting their spider webbing to shoot out towards it.

And so it did.

Their heart raced as they spun web after web and flew from skyscraper to skyscraper, moving fast enough that they never came too close to hitting the ground. Their arms were shaking. Their adrenaline was racing. Their legs felt a little weak and their stomach was a bit queasy and they were sweating bullets- wearing all black in the dead of summer, while necessary under the circumstances, wasn’t exactly the best choice when it came to beating the heat- but they felt strangely alive in a way they couldn’t remember feeling before.

Luckily, Cafe Amito was a straight shot from their apartment building, only a few short blocks away. (The part of Adrian that hadn’t completely freaked out by this point was quietly glad that they wouldn’t have to figure out how to navigate turns; web-slinging from building to building was hard enough as it was.) Adrian started directing their webs further and further up as they approached the cafe before climbing onto an adjacent rooftop and staring down at the cafe below.

They couldn’t really see that much from all the way up there. Adrian considered testing their theory about clinging to the sides of buildings as a way to get closer to the cafe, but even though they were pretty sure by now that they could web themself to safety if they failed, a person standing on the side of a building without falling seemed like the sort of thing that might get people’s attention, and the last thing they wanted to do right now was draw attention to their presence.

But even though they couldn’t see too many details from the top of the nearest building, they could still tell that, a few minutes before six, their father dutifully sat himself down at one of Cafe Amito’s outside tables. He was wearing that one brown striped suit that he’d owned ever since Adrian could remember, one that Adrian sometimes gently teased him about, saying how old it was or how it didn’t flatter him.

Adrian couldn’t tell from this high up if the plate their father had put on the table held croissants, let alone whether there were one or two sitting there.

For a brief moment, Adrian thought of how some scientists would say that their world was just one of a great number of universes in existence. Adrian wondered if, in one of those other universes, they were sitting down there right now, teasing their father about that old striped suit in between bites of chocolate croissant.

They stood there for a few long minutes, watching their father sit outside waiting in vain for their arrival, but soon enough, they decided to turn back and head home. Watching their father from afar wasn’t really accomplishing anything; all it did was make them miss him all the more, made them feel that much further from him, the distance between them vast and overwhelming even though he was just a building over and a few dozen stories beneath their feet.

After they got home, they took a moment to catch their breath, took off most of their too-hot clothes (that ski mask was positively filthy now, and practically dripping with sweat, sticky to the touch as they pulled it off of their face), and sat back down next to their computer and went back to work as if nothing had happened. In a way, perhaps nothing had happened, really.

But then one of their Internet friends pulled their attention away from their work.

Adrian, are you okay?

Adrian stared at the words on the screen, blinking a few times, as if that would answer the half-formed questions in their head for them.

Yeah, I’m okay.

After a moment’s consideration, Adrian sent another message.

Why? Did something happen?

Their friend responded almost immediately.

You didn’t hear?

Adrian’s hands were shaking as they typed their response, but this time, it wasn’t because of an adrenaline rush.

I guess not. Hear what?

The seconds seemed to go by so slowly, time trickling by as their friend typed up their response.

Someone shot up a cafe in New York. A couple people died, a few more are in the hospital now... I’m glad to hear that you’re safe and sound, at least.

Oh.

Oh shit.

It didn’t take them long to connect the dots, even though the logical part of them was screaming that there had to be thousands of cafes in New York, that the odds of the one in question being Cafe Amito were slim to none, that they were jumping to conclusions as recklessly as they had jumped from their apartment building not too long ago...

But it seemed that today, at least, luck wasn’t on their side.

One glance at Twitter revealed that #CafeAmito was trending. (As was #NewYorkStrong, and #ThoughtsAndPrayers, and half a dozen other hashtags related to the shooting besides.)

Adrian looked to the news articles and scanned them for references to the victims, hoping against hope that they wouldn’t see their father’s name among them, that he had left before the bloodshed started, that this tragedy would be just another senseless shooting that happened to take place in their hometown, rather than... than...

The victims included Savannah Connor, the gap-toothed blonde second-grader who loved math and unicorns and the color yellow and would never grow up to be a doctor as she had dreamed of doing. And Mr. and Mrs. Park, newlyweds on their honeymoon, exploring New York City together for the first time; Mr. Park was killed in the shooting, while Mrs. Park was still fighting for her life from a hospital bed. And Daniel “Danny” Riley, his middle school’s star quarterback, who survived the shooting, but was told by doctors that he would never walk again. And Jackson Hunt, a bright young man who survived a childhood bout with leukemia and was headed to MIT in the fall for a degree in Computer Science, who had been injured by the first bullet that hit him and killed by the second.

And Anthony “Tony” Ragno, a local attorney and widower, who had been pronounced dead on arrival at the nearest hospital, and whose adult child, not present at the shooting, could not be reached for comment.

Tony was one of the first to be shot and killed on the scene, Adrian read on as they fought off tears. The gunman had pointed his gun at Savannah Connor, and Tony Ragno had gotten up from his seat and tried to wrestle the gun away from the shooter before little Savannah could get hurt.

It had almost worked, too.

Almost.

(None of the news articles made any mention of whether Tony Ragno had been eating a chocolate croissant at the time.)

As they read article after article, they learned not only about the victims of the Cafe Amito shooting but about its instigator. Some part of Adrian knew, from the moment that they read the shooter’s name, that they would never be able to forget it for as long as they lived. They saw pictures of him smiling at his college graduation, saw a less-flattering mugshot from when he had been taken into custody a few months prior for a domestic violence charge that never got prosecuted. They learned that he had lost his job two weeks beforehand, and that he had been living with his girlfriend, who he had shot and killed in their shared apartment before heading to Cafe Amito. Nobody had a good answer for why he had chosen Cafe Amito as the site of so much violence, and it seemed likely that nobody would ever know the truth, as the gunman had shot himself in the head as the police were closing in on him, choosing death over a probable lifetime of imprisonment.

Adrian turned their phone on silent and let it ring and ring and ring, let the missed calls pile up and their voicemail inbox fill without giving it so much as a second glance. They checked their Facebook early the next morning and decided to delete their account altogether rather than dealing with the outpouring of messages directed their way.

Adrian couldn’t go to their father’s funeral, much as they wanted to be there, much as they wanted to get the kind of closure that that might bring. But their relatives (who had consistently misgendered and deadnamed them in interviews with the press, to the point where half the news outlets were referring to them by their deadname, even though they had been officially named Adrian for over four years now, thank you very much) already thought they were a freak, and they weren’t going to show up with pitch-black skin and prove them right.

They sent flowers, though.

Actually, they sent flowers to all the victims of the Cafe Amito shooting, sent a large arrangement of spider lilies to the living and the dead alike, to funeral beds and to hospital rooms. The bouquets were all sent anonymously, with a note that read simply, You deserved better.

Adrian knew, logically, that the shooting wasn’t really their fault, that this blood wasn’t on their hands. But they also knew that they had superpowers, that they had been near Cafe Amito only a few short minutes before the shooting began, and some part of them couldn’t help but wonder if maybe, if they had stuck around, if they had joined their father at the cafe after all... maybe they could have prevented it.

But they would never really know for sure, they supposed.

That wasn’t the universe they were living in. That wasn’t the way things had played out. Anything else was nothing more than baseless speculation.

That’s what they tried to tell themself, anyway.

Cafe Amito hadn’t accepted orders for delivery before the shooting, but a lot had changed since then, and when they were facing bankruptcy and received a sizable anonymous donation requesting that they do deliveries, well, the cafe’s owner wasn’t going to look a gift horse in the mouth.

The majority of orders were still placed by people wanting to eat in or around the cafe itself, but they gained a fair amount of delivery customers as well once the option was available. Most were one-off orders, but soon enough they developed a handful of regular customers who, for one reason or another, preferred to have the cafe’s food delivered to them.

One of those regulars lived in a fourth-floor apartment only a few blocks down the street from Cafe Amito, who once a month, like clockwork, would place an order for two chocolate croissants, to be delivered right to their door.

#spidersona #spider-sona #into the spider-verse #into the spiderverse #personal #my writing #child death tw

[dracosollicitus]

You mentioned something about a pie POV for At The End of All Things. Did I miss it? I’ve been looking all over your blog for it. That would be absolutely delightful!!!

Ahhh, that is so funny - two anons messaged me with the same question within five minutes of each other!!! 

Here’s the POV from the beginning of the Here at the End of All Things, where he’s waiting for Rey to come back from her supply run/he finds out what happened. 

If people want to see the POV from the countdown, well, let me know!.

Word Count: 2239

Rating: Mature (Cursing/Violence)

“Be back in two!”

Rey had waved out the window of her favorite truck approximately three hours and forty minutes ago, promising to be back in two hours.

“Be back in two!”

Bile rises in Poe’s throat as he desperately tries not to think about the time, about the hour and forty minutes that have passed since the alarm on his watch went off, alerting him to the fact that Rey would be back soon.

She should be back already.

“Get a grip, Dameron,” he mutters to himself, bouncing a tennis ball off the inside of the office on top of the guard tower. It’s not that he doesn’t trust Rey to handle herself, it’s that…it’s that…

Well, the world’s gone to shit, hasn’t it? And Rey’s the last good thing on this wasted earth, and she’s out there by herself because it was her turn to go out, and she had fought with him for an hour last night, entirely indignant at his suggestion that they go together - “someone has to stay back at the house, Dameron, and I’ll only be gone for two hours” - and it’s all his damn fault because he caught a cold, of all things, a cold in an apocalypse, and when he was lying in bed with a fever last week, Rey had taken it on herself to give him the last of the Tylenol, and -

Three hours and forty-five minutes.

Poe can’t breathe. He can’t. Where are you, Rey?

He doesn’t even know her full name.

To be fair, she doesn’t either - apparently the world had been falling apart for years before the outbreak, and he just hadn’t been paying attention, too surrounded by a father and mother (eventually just a father) who loved him, living in a nice house in a good neighborhood, near the nation’s capital. He’d had a decorated military career, and he’d met the president at one point, and all this while in other parts of the country, neighborhoods fell apart and children starved and men grew more and more depraved.

In all honesty, there’d always been that kind of evil in the world, but most people had ignored it as it grew worse and worse over the last few years -  and Rey had been left to watch the world crumble around her, never knowing any kindness or comfort, growing stronger and more gentle in defiant rejection of the cruelty offered to her -

He doesn’t know her name, but he’d given her a new one.

He remembers the first day he called her Sunshine. They’d been sitting in the little greenhouse she built - surrounded by all this life, all this green that she’d made out of nothing, that she nursed through the end of the world - and the sun had come through the window, illuminating the reds in her hair. She’d laughed at a story he’d been telling, some stupid nonsense that he and his squadron had gotten up to, two continents and a decade away, and he’d put down the crossword he was working on, and said, Thanks for laughing, Sunshine.

She’d blushed to the tips of her cute little ears and had gone back to tending to her herbs, but a minute later she’d whispered, No one’s ever given me a nickname before. A laugh, a bitter one, and then, Not a nice one, anyway.

He’d made it his mission to use her nickname as much as naturally possible. He’d also had to fight back the instinct to call her more intimate nicknames, like sweetheart or gorgeous or baby.

Poe grabs his rifle, which he’s been cleaning while he waits, something to keep his hands busy, and then slings it over his shoulder. Pacing is the next option, but he’s done that already, more than a few times, and he stares out into the forest, his eyes straining as he tries to catch a glimpse, a sign of anything. They’re acres deep back here, miles from the main road (he’s still not sure how they stumbled across this place, but he’s thankful every day they did), and the trees are honestly too thick to see much of anything.

“C'mon, Rey.” He braces his hands on the windowsill and hangs his head, feeling the tension between his shoulder blades. He breathes in through his nose and out through his mouth, desperate to calm himself, to maintain self-control, to not think about where she might be, what might have happened –

There’s a loud, distinctive slam, the sound of something hitting the steel gate that lowers for cars to enter. Poe jerks upright and runs for the door, heaving it open. He stumbles out onto the platform surrounding the guard tower and looks down. Sure enough, there she is.

No sign of the truck, and -

“Jesus Christ.” Poe swears under his breath, violently, and Rey looks up at him, visibly shaking from fifteen feet away. “What the fuck happened?” He lowers the rope ladder to her, and watches her panicked face briefly cross with pain when she puts pressure on her left ankle - he’s already thinking about where the ice packs are - and he’s trying desperately not to think about why she’s covered in mud and grime and blood and Christ, that better not be brain -

He seizes her outstretched hand when she nears the top of the ladder, hauling her up, and then the ladder, which he wraps up quickly while Rey struggles to catch her breath. Poe gives her a second to do just that, and eventually she pushes herself upright, an arm wrapped around her middle, pain and terror and exhaustion at war in her lovely face, obscured by muck and filth. He can’t wait any longer for her to start explaining on her own, though.

“What happened?” He runs a hand along her arm and shoulders, and she doesn’t answer, staring blankly at him. His hand hovers near her face - get a grip, Dameron - and then he gently pushes her matted hair out of her wide, hazel eyes and tries to get it behind her ear, half-failing, so he can look her in the eyes. “Rey, talk to me - what happened?

“I want to shower,” Rey’s voice cracks, not rising above a whisper as she pulls the duffel bags free from her shoulder - he hadn’t even noticed she had them - and offers him one. He doesn’t want to know what it costs her to stagger upright and walk through the guard tower, down the stairs. Poe hurries (as much as he can while being thorough) to lock up behind them, securing the tower’s exist and entrance, and then he’s jogging after her across the lawn, desperate for answers.

“Rey, what happened? You’re – you’re two hours late—”

“I’m sorry.” Her voice, usually low and sweet and confident, cracks again. She must think he’s angry. He’s not angry, he’s fucking terrified. How had she gotten all the way here on foot? Where had she lost the truck?

“No, no – it’s – but Rey, where’s the car?” Her only response is to shake her head, and he softly calls her name while they stumble up the front steps.

She’s in no shape to open the door, her hands trembling terribly, so Poe enters the access codes, watching as Rey walks in and drops her bag immediately.

“Rey?”

Bee chooses this moment to appear, and thank God because she actually responds to the dog. Rey procures a crunchy dog biscuit out of nowhere and feeds it to his dog, who munches away and receives a pat on his muzzle.

“Good boy.“ Rey’s voice is still chillingly distant, and she moves away before Bee finishes his Milkbone. “Good …”

Terror has yet to let him go, and Poe follows her, his feet driven by the need to know, to know what happened to her out there. He reaches out to tug her sleeve. “I’m not mad.” She ignores him, and walks to the bathroom on the second floor. “Seriously, we have – we have like five other cars, Sunshine, you’re just…you’re freaking me out.”

“Sorry.“ He just wishes she’d speak in full sentences, tell him something, anything, he isn’t sure his blood pressure can handle any more waiting.

“What happened?” Rey seems to steel herself, sighing audibly with her hand on the bathroom door. She’s still obviously in fight or flight - and with her childhood, he really needs to make sure she understands that he’s - “I’m not mad, I swear, but Jesus Christ, I am scared. Come on, talk to me, please—”

“I ran into Teedo. And the rest of Unkar’s old gang.”

The name rings more than a bell. Unkar had been her guardian, and later, her boss of sorts. He’d forced Rey to work for him, forced her to loot and pillage, beating her and belittling her until she couldn’t take it anymore and got out of that life (and while she’d been light on the details, Poe has a feeling Unkar doesn’t inhabit space on this planet anymore, something he’s mostly relieved about, considering he’d hunt him down himself otherwise).

A horrible idea occurs to him then, and he stares at her, her disheveled appearance, clothes torn, mud and dirt in her hair. No. No, no, no - I should have gone with you, I should have gone instead of you -

Her eyes are hauntingly lost when she looks at him.

“What? Holy fuck, Rey, what—”

“No.” In the middle of her crisis, she still finds it in her to give him a small, sweet smile, and he tucks the memory away desperately. “No, not that kind of bad.”

Poe nods, gritting his teeth - he flushes when he realizes his hand had gone to his rifle, the rifle he’d taken off downstairs, as though his subconscious was already planning to hunt down the men who’d tormented her.

“They saw me. They swarmed the car and forced me to get out and give them the keys.” He hisses between his teeth when Rey lifts the front of her shirt and shows off a mottled bruise already forming on her lower stomach - what if something ruptured, Christ. “They didn’t like it when I tried to stop them.”

She ignores it when he lets out a stream of curses in Spanish, and clears her throat, eyes drifting shut as though she’s in extreme agony. And with what she’s telling him and showing him, she most likely is.

“That’s not the worst part.”

How could it be worse? He’s about to discover that it can be much, much worse.

“I just – I’m not sure what happened, but they weren’t being quiet, so…they came.” Rey’s crying, and that alone is such a rarity that his whole body goes cold, a high-pitched whining starting up like a warning in his ears. “I’m – I’m sorry, I didn’t have time to grab the keys, and they swarmed us, and they went for the men first because they were being louder and they were grouped together, so I ran as fast as I could—”

“Don’t apologize.“ Who gives a shit about the car, when she’d faced Rotters - God, she could have -“You got out. You’re way more important than a car. They didn’t get you, that’s what matters.”

“That’s the thing.” Rey sobs into her hand, shaking her hand, unable to look at him. Dread creeps along his spine, settling into every crevice of his being - “They did get me.”

No - no, that’s not - that can’t be -

“What? They – did they bite  you?”

Panic makes his voice sound cruel, and he regrets it immediately when her whole body flinches away from him.

“No.” Relief. Sweet, sweet relief. It’s only temporary, of course, because then she adds, “But I think one of them scratched me.” He’s frozen while his world falls apart around him - any transfer of genetic material from a Rotter can trigger the viral infection, and if that’s true, then that means…his Sunshine…

“I’m sorry,” she says brokenly when he can’t say anything. “I – I know you needed the supplies, so I tried to get b-back, even if you didn’t want me to, I figured … I don’t know what I was thinking, but it took me so long because I kept leaving false trails, so they couldn’t find us…and now…”

The part of him that can still think realizes that Rey’s half an inch away from a breakdown, but too much of him is caught up in the sheer, blinding terror of losing her, and Rey pushes open the bathroom door and disappears inside, the door clicking shut behind her.

The water starts to run, and he can hear her crying over it, a horrible, quiet crying that he knows comes from years of practice of hiding grief, swallowed sobs, swallowed most likely for his benefit. Poe drops his head to the door, trying to control his breathing, trying to be useful for her - she needs him. No matter what happens next, she needs him. His Rey - no, not his anything. Just Rey. Sweet, kind, ferocious Rey who’s had his back more than he can count.

His palms press to the cool wood of the door, and Poe finds himself praying for the first time in a year, begging the universe to not take her away, not her, anything and anyone but her - I should have gone with her, it should have been me -

Poe pushes away from the door and goes to get the med kit. She’ll need it when she gets out of the shower. She’ll need him.

Focus on that.

#damerey #jedipilot #fic #ao3 #ask #anon #here at the end of all things #zombie au #angst #rated m #poe dameron x rey #horror #mutual pining

[l-a-r-r-yspellslove]

The 5,000 Question Survey - Part One

1. Who are you? Hi, I’m Ronda. 2. What are the 3 most important things everyone should know about you? one - I try to be as non-judgmental as possible. two - I say fuck a lot. three - I like to make stuff and bake stuff and write stuff and draw stuff. 3. When you aren't filling out 5,000 question surveys like this one what are you doing? Reading, watching tv, writing, making stuff, working on puzzles, babysitting my niece. 4. List your classes in school from the ones you like the most to the ones you like the least (or if you are out of school, think of the classes you did like and didn't like at the time). art, french, theater, math, uhhhh history, science. From high school, like 10 years ago :/

5. What is your biggest goal for this year? uhhhh to be more financially responsible. I’ll have less money once my niece starts kindergarten in the fall and that means I need to spend less and figure out other ways to make money. 6. Where do you want to be in 5 years? Fuck, I don’t know. The future gives me anxiety. Like, major anxiety. 7. What stage of life are you in right now? The I’m completely fucked up and don’t know where this is going stage. 8. Are you more child-like or childish? Child-like. 9. What is the last thing you said out loud? “She said they were having a weiner roast.” 10. What song comes closest to how you feel about your life right now? Girl - Maren Morris or Don’t Let It Break Your Heart - Louis Tomlinson 11. Have you ever taken martial arts classes? nope. 12. Does your life tend to get better or worse or does it just stay the same? mostly the same. Pain days are worse. Energetic days are better.  13. Does time really heal all wounds? As a spoonie, I say no. 14. How do you handle a rainy day? Well, rain tends to trigger a migraine, so I spend it in bed or wishing I was in bed. 15. Which is worse...losing your luggage or having to sort out tangled holiday lights? Losing your luggage. 16. How is your relationship with your parents? I have a good relationship with my mom, I think. We get along and all. My dad, on the other hand, I don’t talk to much. I feel like as I’ve gotten older, I’ve realized more how things that happened when I was a kid affected me. And he used to yell a lot and I’d hide in my room and cry. So. Yeah. Will you miss them when they are gone? I’m sure. 17. Do you tend to be aware of what is going on around you? Sometimes 18. What is the truest thing that you know? Life isn’t fair. 19. What did you want to be when you grew up? uhhh, when I was really little I remember wanting to be a teacher. Later, I wanted to be a translator. I remember at one bible camp I thought I could learn obscure languages and translate the bible for them. When I was in college, I started to realize I wanted to be a writer I think, but I majored in Marketing because it seemed like a safer option and I was too far into a business degree before I realized I hated business. And yeah, so I minored in English Lit. And that degree hasn’t ended up doing me any good because I ended up applying for disability not too long after graduating college. 20. Have you ever been given a second chance? I can’t think of a specific instance, but I’m sure I’ve been given many. 21. Are you more of a giver or a taker? Giver. 22. Do you make your decisions with an open heart/mind? Try to. 23. What is the most physically painful thing that has ever happened to you? a Chiari headache. 24. What is the most emotionally painful thing that has ever happened to you? when my grandpa died. 25. Who have you hugged today? no one. It’s Saturday and I’ve been home alone most of the day. 26. Who has done something today to show they care about you? I can’t think of anything today. My mom did some of my laundry yesterday, so I guess I’d count that. And H is always doing sweet little stuff. 27. Do you have a lot to learn? Always 28. If you could learn how to do three things just by wishing and not by working what would they be? Coding - I mean, I know little things, but if I could be like a computer whiz, it’d be great. Mastering photoshop - Same as above, basically. and uhhhhmmmm, maybe like knowing every language or at least every major language fluently?

29. Which do you remember the longest: what other people say, what other people do or how other people make you feel? How they make me feel. 30. What are the key ingredients to having a good relationship? Communication, trust, consideration. 31. What 3 things do you want to do before you die? A - have a meaningful romantic relationship B - impact someone’s life in a significantly positive way C - travel around Europe 32. What three things would you want to die to avoid doing? A - running a marathon B - living completely alone in the world C - reading After and its series 33. Is there a cause you believe in more than any other cause? equal rights 34. What does each decade make you think of: The 19.. 20's: flapper dresses 30's: idk like the depression? 40's:the war? WWII? 50's: poodle skirts and Grease 60's: idk, ummmm, yeah, i got nothin’ 70's: totally blanking 80's: lots of colorful clothing and big hair? was that this decade? 90's: childhood, Friends, friends, elementary school 2000′s: junior high, high school, graduating high school

10′s: college, the decade that America voted orange scum into the presidency

20′s: hopefully the decade that America votes better

35. Which decade do you feel the most special connection to and why? I feel like this is such a 90s kid answer, but I guess the 90s because it was before everything started drastically changing so much. Like, technology and stuff. 36. What is your favorite oldie/classic rock song? Old Time Rock and Roll the kinda music just soothes the soul. I reminisce about the days of old. With that old time Rock and Roll. 37. What country do you live in and who is the leader of that country? USA, orange scum. If you could say any sentence to the current leader of your country what would it be? Eat dirt and die trash. 38. What's your favorite TV channel to watch in the middle of the night? TVLand it used to be before the age of netflix and streaming and such 39. What Disney villain are you the most like and why? is the Cheshire Cat a villain? Because I want to answer him, because he has no direction and is terrible at giving directions haha 40. Have you ever been a girl scout/boy scout? I was a girl scout from kindergarten through 7th grade. 41. If you were traveling to another continent would you rather fly or take a boat? Fly 42. Why is the sky blue during the day and black at night? I dunno. Something to do with the sun. 43. What does your name mean? Grand 44. Would you rather explore the deeps of the ocean or outer space? Outer space. 45. Word association What is the first word that comes to mind when you see the word: Air: water Meat: balls Different: same Pink: fluff Deserve: reward White:clouds Elvis: hair Magic: sparks Heart: filled Clash: titans Pulp: fiction 46. If you could meet any person in the world who is dead who would you want it to be? Walt Disney 47. What if you could meet anyone who is alive? Harry Styles 48. Is there a movie that you love so much you could watch it everyday? Frozen and Frozen 2 and all of the Toy Story’s 49. You are going to be stuck alone in an elevator for a week. What do you bring to do? enough food for the week I assume is included. Laptop, ipad, a few books, chargers for laptop and ipad, a sudoku book, yarn and crochet stuff 50. Have you ever saved someone's life or had your life saved? I don’t think so.

51. Make up a definition for the following silly words... Fruitgoogle: verb. To search the web without aim. Ambytime: noun. The time at which to amble around. Asscactus: noun. A prick who knows and doesn’t care that he’s a total prick. 52. What was the last thing you made with your own hands? Crochet dress for my niece. 53. What was your favorite toy as a child? I remember this big semi truck that I loved a lot. 54. How many TV’s are in your house? Four 55. What is your favorite thing to do outside? I don’t like going outside, tbh. I guess I’d say swimming, though. And I don’t really like to do that much, sooo 56. How do you feel when you see a rainbow? Happy 57. Have you ever dreamt a dream that came true? Oh yeah. 58. Have you ever been to a psychic/tarot reader? Nope. 59. What is your idea of paradise? An endless library filled with every book, tv show, movie, musical, play in existence with and super comfy chair and an endless supply of whatever food I could think of wanting. 60. Do you believe in god and if so what is he/she/it like? God is love.  61. Do you believe in Hell? Everyone carries a little piece of hell around inside of them. 62. What one thing have you done that most people haven't? uhhh crocheted an entire blanket? 63. What is the kindest thing you have ever done? I have no idea. 64. Are you a patient person? Some days. 65. What holiday should exist but doesn't? Reading day. 66. What holiday shouldn't exist but does? Columbus Day 67. What's the best joke you ever heard? fuck, i don’tknow 68. Where is the most fun place you have EVER been? Disney World, duh. 69. Is your hair natural or dyed? dyed but my roots are showing terribly because my hair grows so fucking fast. 70. Do you have any deep dark secrets or are you pretty much up front? I’m fairly upfront, but not many people know I write fanfic, especially don’t know that I write smutty fanfic haha. 71. What is under your bed right now? A lot of storage stuff and my suitcase that is also storing blankets i believe 72. If you were in the Land of Oz would you want to live there or go home? I don’t think they had WiFi, so I’m gonna say go home. 73. If you drive do you frequently speed? Just a little 74. What is the world's best song to dance to? Best Song Ever hahahahahahaha 75. What song was on the last time you danced with someone? I cannot remember the last time I danced with anyone or by myself. I don’t really dance much. Maybe high school prom lol or maybe ZTA formal 76. Do you prefer Disney or Warner Brothers? Disney 77. What is the first animal you would run to see if you went to the zoo? penguins 78. Would you consider yourself to be romantic? yes 79. If the earth stopped rotating would we all fly off? i don’t think so? 80. What is the one thing that you love to do so much that you would make sacrifices to be able to do it? write 81. If you (and everyone) had to lose one right or freedom, but you could pick which one everyone had to lose, what would you pick? the right to own/use a gun for anything other than hunting wild animals. and only the animals that you’re supposed to be allowed to hunt like deer and stuff. 82. If you had to choose would you live on the equator or at the North Pole? There isn’t even a place to live on the North Pole, is there? What kind of question is this? I will answer the South Pole because that’s where people do live (scientists but still) and there are penguins.

83. Would you rather give up listening to music or watching television? oh god. Don’t make me choose. 84. What do you think makes someone a hero? I think hero is more of a verb than a noun. And putting others’ needs ahead of your own. 85. What cartoon would you like to be a character in? Frozen. 86. Name one thing that turns your stomach: like, seed pods or whatever they’re called that have all the uneven little holes and stuff? I don’t even know what they’re called exactly but the give me the fucking heebiejeebies 87. What was the last thing you paid for? Yarn 88. Are you a coupon clipper? Sometimes 89. Get anything good in the mail recently? I finally got Louis’s CD that was included in my concert ticket purchase today. 90. Which would you rather take as a gym class...dancing, sailing, karate, or bowling? bowling 91. In Star Trek people 'beam' back and forth between different places. What this means is they stand in a little tube and their molecules are deconstructed and sent to another tube somewhere else where they are reassembled. Only problem is when the molecules are deconstructed the person is dead. When they are put back together it is only a clone that has all the dead person's memories. So... Is the person who gets beamed the same person on both ends? Technically, it’s a clone, but clone’s are the same person basically? So no? But soft of? 92. What insects are you afraid of? Bees, wasps, anything that has a stinger. 93. If you could print any phrase on a T-shirt, what would it say? Dude, this is 2020, you can totally print any phrase you want on a t-shirt. I’m currently contemplating a Golden Girls shirt, though. Either ‘Picture It Sicily 1922′ or ‘Eat dirt and die trash’ 94. What's the most eccentric thing you have ever worn? I wore a rainbow tutu to pride? Does that count? And my hair is currently blue, so I feel like probably that. 95. If you could pick one food that you could eat all you wanted but it would have no effect on how much you weigh, what food would it be? OREOS 96. What are your parents interested in? uhh, my dad watches a lot of tv and my mom likes to craft and hoard crafting supplies basically. 97. Have you ever caught an insect and kept it as a pet? I had a caterpillar that I kept and was disappointed when it turned into a moth. Have you ever caught and tamed a wild animal? No. 98. What is more helpful to you, wishes or plans? Wishes 99. When do you feel your life energy the strongest? when i’m writing 100. You are spending the night alone in the woods and may bring only 3 items with you. What do you bring?

phone (with flashlight and a full battery), sleeping bag, and water

#the 5000 question survey #personal #me #whatever i was bored and i've had this thing bookmakred to do forever

[simmysimmymone-blog]

The Flower Girl (Part I)

By the time Cor had reached the middle of the sky, the dark blue shadows barely curving around the entrance gate to the Timaeus Railing as it threatened to sweep Turlock off the archway. The monorail station was nearly empty, save for someone who appeared to be a young woman peering over the edge of the walkway, bouquet of flowers in hand. He knew that if he leaned over the railings by the tracks, he could see past the hills and witness all of the city as well, with its splendid glass structures and spiraling towers, just like in the books Desagondensta would bring home.

But he could not bring himself to look over the Atlantean capital. Just the thought of Desagondensta caused his chest to ache with grief. To think, five years working towards recruitment, three years in the military, eight years in total away from his friends and family- all for Turlock to arrive at Atlantis alone without his father.

“Will you at least tell me?”

“Tell you what?”

“About her. Anything.”

“Turlock, I...there is nothing more I can say about her.”

“Then there is nothing more that I can say to you.”

Another strong gust of wind swept around him, presenting a dull roar in his ears. Turlock squeezed his eyes shut as if trying to block out the memory, yet it still proceeded to permeate and glue itself to the back of his eyelids. It had seemed so satisfying, watching his slanted eyes- a mirror of his own-open wide and the lines in his face deepen from the shock and pain of his words, as if it could cease his own turmoil. But now it became a churning pot without a lid, spitting out his own vileness at him.

His fingers curled around the railing and tightened, gripping so hard that his knuckles turned white. His last face-to face conversation with his father. It did not matter that Desagondensta forgave him for it, that he had already apologized, that his last letter was wrapped around one of the pressed fire lilies that he was so fond of sending as a memo from home in his pack, expressing so much excitement to see him come home with stories of his own about the great city and promising reconciliation.

‘When I see you again, then I will tell you about Sooleawa.’  Even seeing her name, written proof that finally acknowledged her existence, did not matter anymore. His father was gone and Turlock was too preoccupied chasing a ghost to recognize the man who had raised him, trained him, cultivated every skill and every piece of wisdom he now owned, was now gone. If he just had the chance to tell him thank you, that he would miss him, that he loved him...

“When I see you again,” Turlock whispered, opening his eyes.

“SHIT.”

Turlock whipped his head to the side to see the young woman previously looking over the rail now sprinting towards him, a polychromatic cloud of flowers billowing between them. Before he could react, the gust of wind that had swept them out of her hands had already carried them above his head and towards the city.

She skidded to a stop in front of him, watching the flowers drift aimlessly away. “Fuck!” she exclaimed, clasping both sides of her face.

Turlock stepped away from the railing, watching her curiously as she groaned and shook her head. “Who was that for?”

“For a friend,” she said miserably.

“You seem a little bit more upset than one is over a gift for a friend,” Turlock remarked.

She rolled her eyes and dropped her hands. “It was for a friend from a friend. I was the middleman, and I was supposed to bring them to her so that they could make up or whatever because I guess she cheated on him even though she told me they were in an open relationship but honestly I don’t really care about any of it because they’re not really my friends, I just met them a couple days ago but since I’m new I just wanted to make a good impression, but then I wanted to look at the lights and wasn’t paying attention and then the wind just-!” She gestured  towards the valley.

Turlock barely caught each word. She spoke at an incredible speed, her wide lips not quite matching the speed at which the words left her mouth nor the dramatic rises and drops of her pitch. It was so unlike the custom slow, contemplative-appearing speech of the Atlanteans or traditionally short, quippy dialogue of the Annunaki that he had grown accustomed to over the past few years.  

In fact, the longer he observed her the more he realized that she didn’t seem be either. Besides missing the obvious wings of the Annunaki, she was tall, the level of his gaze reaching just above her eyebrows at her rather large forehead. But instead of having a slender, almost willowy body type like the Atlanteans, she was broad and stocky. Her arms and legs were visible and well-defined through capris and her button-up plaid shirt, her hair just barely hiding a thick and muscular neck. Her hair was another thing; it was somewhat reminiscent of General Jekesai and Aamori’s hair, frizzy curls that stuck out in every direction. But instead of keeping it cropped close to her head, her afro burst out of her scalp like a dogwood tree, and a thick braid wrapped across her crown as a headband to keep it out of her face. Little z’s and s’s curled every which way, and his fingers twitched in a sudden desire to run his fingers through it.

He impulsively folded his hands behind his back. “Where are you from?”

“Hmm?” Her eyes were still focused on the last few flowers darting between the hills.

“Where are you from?” he repeated.

She turned to face him with her scattered eyebrows raised, giving her the look of a scattered owl. “And what makes you think I’m not from around here?”

“Are you?”

The young woman chuckled, the corners of her eyes crinkling. “I don’t know, dude. I mean, since you’re an expert on a continent with a population of three billion people with nearly a hundred different ethnic groups, and you say that I’m not from around here, then who am I to say any different?”

The corner of Turlock’s mouth quirked. “No, sadly I am not an expert on this continent that has a population of three billion people nor its hundred ethnic groups. However, you do have an accent.”  

Her smile dropped. “I do?”

He nodded.

“Shit,” she muttered, hastily rubbing the side of her neck. She suddenly looked much younger now in her sheepishness, but there was something endearing about it as well.

“I do not know your accent, if that helps?” he offered.

She paused, then glanced back him. “You really don’t?”

“Untraceable,” he assured her.

“Oh.” Her eyes darted downwards, her hand slowly rubbing the back of her neck again. Then another smile slowly crept on to her face, this time her cheeks rounding out similar as a chipmunk and just as sweetly. “Well, I’m from SF. Just- just in case you wanted to know.”

“SF?”

“San Francisco. You know, California?”

California. Turlock recalled the word almost as if was from a dream, very faint and too slippery to definitively grasp, but still present somewhere in the back of his mind. A back room in one of the lodges, a pile of books that ranged from well-used to practically new...

“California, it is in...the United States, yes?” he said slowly.

“Yeah! Yeah, I’m from the US. You know, you’re the first one who didn’t immediately peg me as a West Coast girl. Apparently I say dude all the time and talk really fast? I don’t know, I just everybody kind of talked slowly, although that is a really self-centered way to think about things. But yeah, San Francisco, California, United States, born and raised- I think? I don’t know, I never don’t live with my parents. Not that that matters.”

Looking at her now, Turlock knew that she could not be much older than him. There was something youthful in her rounded cheeks and bright eyes black as coal.

She chuckled nervously, now rubbing her arm. “Where are you from?”

What a strange person. He hesitated- his home always seemed to evoke odd responses from people, ranging from sympathy to disdain, sneering “leech”. But she could not have lived here too long to understand what it meant to be from one of the ECC reservations. And where would be the harm in telling a random stranger? 

He decided to take a chance. “Roanoke.”

“Roanoke? I’m sorry, I really haven’t been here long, they only recruited me a week ago. Where is, uh, Roanoke?” she tried.

“Have you heard of the ECC?”

“Yeah, it’s in one of the more eastern countries, right?”

“It is the entire eastern seaboard,” he corrected.

“The Endangered Civilization Colonies,” she said slowly to herself. “So you’re from one of the reservations?” There was no judgement in her voice, only a need for clarification. He nodded.

“Wow, that’s...I really don’t know what to say, dude. Like I said, I’m not really well affiliated with anything around here yet.”

“Do not concern yourself so much about it.” He looked towards the hills. The Cor had turned the green grass soft shades of turquoise and cobalt, nearly as monochrome as the metallic blue of the rails that dipped in between them. By now the last of the flowers had disappeared.

Except for one. A single orange bloom caught in the blue hue of the grassy sea. The stem split in two at the root and curled onto the long grass, anchoring the flower against the sweeping winds.

He stands people on their feet.

Turlock turned back to the young woman, now squinting at the sundial. “Well, it was nice talking to you, dude, but I gotta figure out what I gotta do,” she sighed, stepping back as she jammed her fists into her back pockets. “I don’t know, maybe I can run back and get another bunch before heading into the city. Or maybe they’ll have florists in the city? I don’t know, what do you think?”

“I think that you should not spend credits on another bouquet.”

“Well, neither do I, but I lost it so it’s my job to fix it and find another.”

“That is not what I meant. May I see your hand?”

“Uhhhh, okay?” She held out her right hand, and he took it gingerly between both of his own. There were green and white smears on her palm from the flower stems. It would be slightly inconvenient without seeds, but he could make do with the wick. He ran two fingers from beneath her pinkie to the meat of her thumb, then handed her back her hand. As he rubbed his fingers, he asked, “What type of flowers were they?”

“Um, mostly orchids, white and blue. A couple rhododendrons, also white and blue, but there were a few orange ones.” Turlock could see it; the orchids long and willowy as they reached towards the sky, the rhododendron petals pointing up and out as they basked in the Cor’s light.

“Hey, look man, you don’t have to buy anything for me,” she said in alarm. “I was the one being a klutz and it’s my responsibility to get a new one and I am completely capable of doing so, so you don’t have to do anything for me.”

Turlock only shook his head, and extended an open palm between them. She raised her eyebrows at him, but he simply put a finger to his lips and then pointed at his hand. She huffed, but focused her eyes on his palm. But Turlock watched her face, gauging her reaction. For a few seconds, her expression didn’t change. But then her eyes widened, and her hand flew up to clasp over her mouth.

A tiny green bud appeared between them, hovering just over the heavy creases in his palm. Then another, and then two more, then four, and then there were at least ten little buds in his hand. Already each one started to sprout at their own speeds, the green skin expanding and pushing to make way for the hints of blue and white and orange. “Whoa…” Her eyes were the size of walnuts and her jaw hung agape that would almost be parodical if not for upwards curl of the corners of lips as she watched, transfixed by the sight of each flower growing into their own with a dozen more sprouting by the roots. The ache in his chest softened for the first time since he had left the general’s office at the sight of her smile.

“That’s just- amazing,” she finally said once Turlock had a full bouquet in his hands. “And they’re just so- they’re so beautiful!”

“I am glad you think so,” he said, firmly grasping the stems before extending them to her. “They are meant to replace the ones the wind took.”

“Whoa…” She took them with the same wide eyes as before, gingerly fingering the stems as if she couldn’t believe they were real. “My baby bro- he’s trying the same thing, but he can’t do anything like this,” she told him as they straightened up.

“He will learn. A green thumb is rare, but it is not difficult.” He shrugged nonchalantly, even though he could already feel his temples beginning to throb.

“Man, I really...I don’t know what to say. Just- thank you,” she said earnestly.

“Do not thank me when I have not given you your flower yet.”

“Wha- my flower?”

“Which one is your favorite?”

“Uh- well, I’m more of a fire-lily type of girl, but the orange rhododendrons are very nice too, so that’s absolutely-”

“Forgive me,” he interrupted, “but did you say a fire-lily?”

“Yeah, but like I said it’s really no problem man, you’ve already done enough.”

Turlock’s fingers were already at the straps of his satchel. Desagondensta had sent him a fire lily in his last letter; it was pressed but there should still be something left for him to draw on. He tugged out the small glass box and with quick fingers popped the lid open. A single fire lily laid on top of a velvet blanket, the shriveled leaves curling inward as brown and wrinkly as a newborn babe. Just when he was about to press his fingers to it, he caught sight of the worn papyrus just underneath the blanket. For a split second, Turlock’s fingers hovered over it, hesitating slightly.

Desagondensta’s last flower...

“Like I said man, you don’t have to.” Turlock glanced at her face, and saw a pair of kind eyes gazing back. She looked down at the glass box, then back to him as an understanding half-smile curled into the side of her cheek. “I think that, whoever gave you this, even they would say that you’ve done enough.”

No. 

Turlock felt the corners of his lips turn upwards and he shook his head. “He would tell me that I need to do more in return for what you’ve given me.” He tore off a leaf, the crackling sound permeating the silent tension in the air, and held it up.

“And what’s that?” she asked as it began to turn green and uncurl outwards.

Rich bursts of orange and red shot along the sides of the stem until it produced a soft lavender bulb where the petals were already beginning to open and reach out for the sun. Turlock waited until the petals were as long as his index finger before tucking the flower behind her ear.

“A smile from you for a smile from me,” he said softly.

Her cheeks went as brilliant as the flower, and she rubbed her neck sheepishly. “I-”

“WAM WAM WAM! WAM WAM WAM!”

Both looked up to see the monorail zipping through the valley towards them, the horn’s stacattoed screech echoing across hills. He glanced at the young woman to see her gnawing her lip. “May I finish what you were going to say?” he offered.

“Since you already seem to know me so well,” she said jokingly as she turned back to him.

“How about, ‘I can’t thank you enough, this is incredibly sweet’ and ‘That’s my train’?”

“Shit, you’re good.”

“I do try.”

She laughed heartily, the sound rich in its throatiness and lack of constraint. “Now look at you, all confidence and edginess,” she teased as the monorail slowed to a stop next to them. With a hiss, the doors slowly parted to reveal a spiral staircase unraveling itself from the monorail before connecting to the loading dock.    

“Perhaps I will see you around?” he suggested as she boarded the train.

“I don’t know, maybe I will,” she replied over her shoulder. “If you already know me better than I know myself, then we should run into each other one of these days!” She paused at the top of the stairs as the staircase coiled itself back up, then turned around and poked her head out of an open window. “Hey dude! I never caught your name!”

“I am saving it for when we run into each other once again!” he called over the sound of the monorail whirling back to life.

“Then I'll see you in the city?”

“I hope so!”

“Well, until then-” She fumbled with something before shoving it out the window. Turlock lurched forward and something soft and jelly-like landed in his hands. He lifted it to his eye level and stared at a fist-sized water sculpture of a plesiosaur all curled up in his palms, the currents rippling over its body as a soft yellow light pulsed at its center. To his amazement, he could see its body rise and fall with every breath, a burst of air hitting his palm as it snored. He prodded it gently with one finger. Instead of permeating the silvery water sheen, it repelled him as if it were skin. The plesiosaur stopped snoring and lifted its head, opening its eyes to reveal a pair of bright yellow orbs as eyes, the same color as its core. They fixed him with a clear gaze of surprise and annoyance.

Despite everything, he couldn’t help but chuckle. “I am beyond grateful, but I cannot accept th-” Turlock looked up to see the monorail already starting to chug away from him.

“I can make dozens more, don’t worry about it! Just keep him as a reminder of me!”

“But-”

“Until next time!” she called, waving as she faded into the distance.

Turlock stood there at the boarding dock with the strange little creature in hand, the wind sweeping around the station that was just as empty and lonely as before, save for the smile widening across his face and the swelling of his chest.

“Until next time.”  

#original characters #childhood inspired #the paperman inspired #atlantis the lost empire inspired #my ocs #the chronicles of atlantis #one-shots