#ALSO LIKE I WANT MORE OF THE PATCH TRIBE

[bxtonpxss]

sk is so funny, cause I'm on mari's wiki page and

Born as the daughter of a fortune teller, she possesses slight psychic powers, yet she lacks Hao's ability of Reishi. Using latent telekinetic powers, she can manipulate puppets and psychically see into the future to foretell the time of people's death when she was only little.

[cherrirui-official]

"You know... You didn't have to take that with you."

"But I promised him I'd take him out to see the ocean one day."

[crowcrash]

The Jade Winglet

you are welcome to use my designs as long as you credit me :)

design notes:

Moon is a dark almost greenish black color, and has a silver almost diamond shape on her nose and chest. Hatching under two full moons, she has a teardrop on the back corners of her eyes as a mark of her mind reading abilities, and a smaller front teardrop as a mark of a seer. She is remarkably large for her age, a trait she got from her father, but is still one of the smaller members of her winglet.

Not much about Winter's design. He is stocky, has clusters of darker scales on his face, a darker nose, and is remarkably shiny even by IceWing standards. He continues to wear the earring from Qibli, claiming he doesn't trust Darkstalker's magic to be entirely gone without it, when in reality he secretly likes the connection to Qibli and his winglet.

Peril is very large for a SkyWing, and is the tallest of the winglet. Shes very muscular and her scales are abnormally bright and shiny in comparison to the other tribes. She is almost iredescent in the sun and practically glows. She has VERY large, unblinking eyes that are a startling shade of blue (an eye color already uncommon in the Sky Kingdom) and is known for intensely staring people down without meaning to do so. Despite being firescales she is covered in small scars from brief nicks in battle before her opponents perished.

Turtle is very short and stocky in build, and is the shortest of the winglet as he carries himself very low to the ground. Hes very freckled and alongside the golden armband he wears gold stud earrings. His horns are twisted and almost silvery, a trait he shares with every animus dragon. He bares a striking resemblance to his ancestor Fathom, however he is shorter and stockier than he was.

Qibli is lanky and awkward in appearance, with long legs and a thin, gangly body. He is unkempt in appearence, with crooked teeth and freckles and scars covering his body from his rough up bringing in The Scorpion Den (the scar from Cobra being the two slashes on the front of his nose) and is surprisingly tall, taller even than Winter, but because of their differences in posture (Winter's being perfect to a T and making himself appear much larger than he is and Qibli's being nonexistent) he appears much smaller than he really is. Like all SandWing’s, he has a darker patch under his eyes to help with seeing in intense sunlight.

Umber looks very similar to Clay in appearance, with hazel eyes and warm scales. Unlike Clay, Umber is significantly smaller and thinner in frame and is covered in large freckles. He has a lighter patch on his chest, his ears are long and hang down, he has a long scar on his snout and neck, and his right horn has a blunted tip from the battles he fought in the war.

Like Umber Carnelian shares many scars from the battles she fought in the war, most notably being the chunk missing from her left ear and the several long slashes across her face. I like to think that had Carnelian lived longer and Umber remained in the winglet the two of them would’ve become close friends, and eventually Carnelian would’ve become protective of the other dragonets in her winglet.

I struggled getting Kinkajou’s colors right; i wanted to make her bright and include her iconic pink/yellow scales, but i wanted to make her less neon and have more believable tones down hues. I also wanted to include some orange and reds to show her more fiery side.

[lleldey]

The Deepest Marks of Essence

Description: When you found yourself circled by a tribe, you never thought it would lead you to tap into your deepest wants and desires. You are the oldest child, the example of how one should act at all costs, but if you ever manage to escape this maze and if your story ever becomes told, you’ll never be looked at the same. But it’s hard to regret it when your nights are spent with gentle caresses and starry midnight skies. You got everything you secretly longed for, but at what cost? 

Warnings: a tribe, use of weapons, yelling, mentions of wounds-blood, JK is a yandere, mentions of people dying/killing, smut, use of  psychedelics, if I missed any, please give me a shout!

Word Count: ~18.7k

One-shot..?

A/N: Ha, this is a logner one, but I hope you enjoy it, also it’s not proofread (yet) ! ; it’s centred on world-building and MC’s emotions/feelings, so, friendly suggestion, I’d say feel it through, even if it takes a bit longer, that way it will make more sense :)

!In no way of shape and form do I think this is how Jungkook acts in real life, this is pure work of fiction, so if you choose to read it, please keep that in mind! 

“Remind me, why do I ever listen to your crazy ideas?” you huff and shoot daggers to your way too happy brother. Spending vacation in midst of a jungle was never your idea, but your brother kept nagging you, and you’re sure no one would be able to refuse his big, puppy-dog, begging eyes.

“Because you love me,” he cheekily sends you a wink, “and also, this is fun!” he happily throws his hands in the air, “Listen to the nature, feel the breeze, the fresh air.” He dreamily closes his eyes, all while you’re close to throwing a rock at him.

You’re tired, the backpack keeps digging in your shoulders, there’s a small rock in your sneakers, and mosquitos keep biting your sweaty skin. You keep reminding yourself the hike will soon be over, judging by the markers on trees you’ll be happily back in the comfort of your car in an hour.

Taehyung opens one eye, and disapprovingly shakes his head, “You’re no fun,” slightly offended you shoot back, “And you need to find friends, this is the last time you’ll ever get me to do this.” High pitched buzz nears your ear, and you unhappily swat another mosquito.

“Jesus’, Bee, look how tense you are. Perhaps I need more friends, but you surely need a boyfriend,” annoyed, by both his words, and the overused childish nickname, you roll your eyes, looking at your younger brother unimpressed, “Or perhaps a one-night stand?” he presses his lips, holding in his laughter all while you slap his neck traumatized by the change in topic.

You’d like to keep your love life solely to yourself, and as far away from your brother’s praying eyes as possible. You refuse to acknowledge the hidden truth in his words, always being a bit jealous of his lifestyle; loving with no strings attached, diving into the moment, and letting one’s mind free. Something that you, the oldest child, and a woman, cannot afford to do.

But that’s your secret to keep, sure that if he ever got to know of it, he’d never let it go. Silently, you follow his lead while he giggles in front of you. “You’re missing the beauty of life, open your eyes and be free” he exaggeratedly points, and you stare at him, wondering if he managed to get stoned while you were busy fighting mosquitos.

You open your mouth ready to reply, but your words catch in your throat, as you come across a lookout, trees clearing a patch to see the beauty of the jungle; treetops swaying in the wind, mountainy greenery shining in the warmth of the sun.

Taehyung whistles besides you, both of you stunned from the beauty in front, “Take a picture of me,” he hits your arm, all while not taking his gaze from the scenery. You grab your phone while he runs closer to the edge to pose.

“I’m not sure if this is the best way to spend battery in the middle of nowhere,” you mumble and note how your phone is still out of service. When you look up, your breath shudders and you hiss, “Don’t stand so close to the cliff,” Tae only gives you a cheeky smile and poses while flexing his muscles. Apparently, you’re the only whose been taking notes of the warning signs all around.

“Aw, is my big sissy worried about me?” he coos, and you roll your eyes while clicking the photo. You go to check the gallery, but his cocky words make you look up, “See, it’s safe,” he takes a step closer to the edge, and your previously stiff shoulders go rock hard.

It’s a matter of a second, he looks over the edge of the mountain, and in a blink of an eye, he trips and the ground beneath his feet crumbles. You don’t even manage to scream, one second, he’s looking how steep the slope is, and the next he’s falling.

Your body moves on its own accord, and you lay pressed to the ground, looking over the edge trying to find him. Panic leads your body, and without a single doubt in your mind you run alongside the edge, trying to find a place to rush down the mountain.

Branches cut your skin, but you don’t stop and run down the steep hill, calling his name, hoping to god he’s all right. Your feet fail you, and your body goes tumbling down the hill, stopping only when you crash into a tree.

You groan at the impact, and press your hand against your head, curling in due to the pain. Your palm is stained with blood, and you feel dizzy when you try to get up, pressing most of your body weight against the tree.

“Tae?” panicked, your voice breaks and lips tremble. All you see is greenery all around you, hopelessness seeps under your skin, and you realize – you’re all alone, hurt, and in the middle of nowhere.

Hanging onto the last bit of sanity, you fish out your phone, and sigh in relief when it turns on, only screen suffering the impact of your fall. But your relief is short lived, there’s still no zone. You look back up the slope, the trees stretch across the horizon, and you know there’s not a chance you’re leaving your little brother behind, you have to find him.

Perhaps it’s the adrenaline, but you don’t feel pain, only discomfort as you keep wandering the jungle. “Tae, where are you?” you shout as loudly as you can, hoping against all odds he’s conscious.

There must be an angel guiding you, as you swear you hear something down the hill. Doing your best to speed up your steps, you rush towards the sound, looking all around to make sure you don’t miss him lying somewhere.

The first thing you see, is a bruised hand reaching up to grab a branch, and once you hear your name echoing with the wind, relief floods your system and you run towards him, not caring if you fall.

“Oh my god, Tae!” you fall in his embrace, ignoring how he grunts when you throw yourself in his arms. “Thank you, thank you, thank you for being alive,” you press his cheeks together and search for injuries on his body.

That seems to be an easier task than to find none – his clothes are fully teared up, skin dirtied in mud, and blood seeping from his skin, but once you detect that there’s only nonlife-threatening injuries to the eye, your relief turns to rage.

“What the hell were you thinking,” you shoot him daggers, and hit his chest, “You’re a complete idiot!” he doesn’t fight your attacks, only presses his head against the tree trunk.

“What are we supposed to do now?” His trembling voice awakens you, and you press your lips together, “Can you walk?” he winces once he puts weight on his leg, which on further inspection looks in an unnatural position. His hiss tells you as much, but you help him stand up, no other option running through your mind, you’re not about to leave him here.

You wrap your arms around his body, and help him take a step forwards, “This is pointless, you don’t even know where we’re supposed to go,” he hisses with a labored breath. You choose to ignore his statement, praying that there’s another group of idiots wandering the jungle.

Soon you’re dripping in sweat, carrying most of his body weight; ignoring your own pain turns out harder than you hoped it would be. You don’t take your eyes off of the sky, it being your only source of solace, but when it starts to turn darker and Tae keeps grunting in your ear, you finally decide to stop.

Carefully, you rest him against a tree and grab your phone hoping that the signal might appear. But when the bar is still the same, you turn to Tae asking for his phone, “Lost it, when I fell.”

You try to keep yourself together, be the responsible one to whom everyone turns for help, but truthfully, you’re close to falling apart. You’ve been stumbling in wilderness for too long, and you’re painfully aware that the time is closing in on you.

In matter of minutes, you’ll be the prey for darkness, and as beautiful as the jungle is, it’s also home for predators waiting to sink their teeth in your skin. With every scrunch of a leaf, you search for the hidden animals, praying, that this isn’t the way you go. And if it is, you swear, you’ll haunt your brother till the end of times.

You open your barely standing backpack, and throw a protein bar at him, if you know one thing, you’ll need strength to survive this night. You’ve no sense of direction, hopelessly stumbling near the hill, hoping there’s a way to go up.

Tae starts to refuse the snack you’ve thrown, but one dark glare thrown his way shuts him up; he understands this situation is his fault, and now is not the time to cross his older sister. You rest your head against the tree, and try to gather strength to carry on, but at this point, even the birds have silenced their chirps, no sense of life surrounding you.

But when all hope seemed to be extinguished, a thud, like a stone being thrown, sounded behind you, and not even a second later a swarm of birds flew over your head. Both of you freeze, and you train your ears to the direction of the sound, wondering if an animal has already noted you as their prey, or perhaps~

Dare you even wish, is that a person?

You look backwards and try to see anything from the depths of trees, and you swear you heard soft whispers. Your body surges with a newfound sense of survival, and you quickly turn to Taehyung, “I think I heard someone,” He skeptically looks over your shoulder, and you follow his gaze, trying to hear something more.

Silence welcomes you, no words heard, but still hanging onto the last bid of hope, you convince yourself that every branch break comes from someone. Quickly, you turn to him once more, and shove your backpack in his arms.

“There’s someone there, wait for me here,” but he grabs your hand and looks at you as if you’ve lost your mind, “That could be an animal, don’t.” but you shake your head, even if it is an animal, you’d rather die trying.

“But what if it’s not?” he stops and stares reluctant, “Here, take this,” you press your phone in his hands, he furiously shakes his head and desperately tries to catch your gaze, “Just in case. Wait here, I’ll come back.” You promise, but you’re not sure if that’s one, you’ll be able to hold.

You might be walking into a den of a predator, but that’s a chance you’re willing to take. Before you submit to your fate, you embrace your brother and hold him close, hoping that the angel looking after you, will not leave you this time around.

Squaring your shoulders, you turn to where the sound came from and carefully go towards it, quietly enough to hear if it comes around once more. You’re clumsy with your steps, half dragging your legs, but the further you go, the more on edge you feel, every little sound feeling like an upcoming attack.

Just when you’re about to turn around, you hear it~

Adrenaline courses through your system and you close to run towards the sound, perhaps if you were less desperate you would have waited, listened more, and checked if there’s no danger, after all, you are a woman estranged in depths of nowhere.

But once you see shadows of people, you can’t help but scream as loud as possible, only thought running through your mind – you’re saved.

The group of people stop, and alarmed turn towards you, shouting something back, but you’re too elated on seeing a live soul, that you don’t stop to overthink that’s not a language you recognize, and even less so the clothes they wear.

“Help! You have to help me!” breathless you cry out, all while stumbling closer to them, “My brother, he’s injured! We got lost, please help us,” their shouts only increase, but you run closer, deaf to their aggressive tones.

You stop only when the first spear lands near your legs.

Alarmed, you look up, and take in the situation you unknowingly put yourself into. Around fifteen men circle you, their hands threateningly hold up weapons aimed at you, faces stoic and lips shouting words you cannot comprehend.

Your knees tremble once you realize the danger, and slowly you put your hands in the air, flinching at every shout directed at you. With shaky eyes, you look over every man circling you, but the weapons facing you only make you shrink in on yourself further.

The words they shout are foreign, and one look at their clothes makes you realize just what you’ve stumbled upon. Looks like your angel has truly left you estranged, as you’ve stumbled up on the deadliest pack of predators you could’ve.

A tribe, a group of wild, uncontrolled individuals that live by their own rules and fears. A group of individuals who see you as a treat. Your knowledge of them is sparse, but one thing you do know – keep away from them at all costs, and if you ever stumble up on them – run.

But running isn’t an option now, no matter the situation you're in, you know you won't get through the night without their help. That is, if they let you take as much as a step towards them, before they pierce you with their bows and spears.

Your hands tremble in fright, and you assess the group around you; they point their weapons at you, not a single ounce of sympathy present, just blind rage and fear. Slowly they start enclosing in on you, alarmed you turn your head in all directions, till your sight lands on a man right before you, not shooting daggers at you, or even more so – not holding any weapons. Just looking at you with scrutinizing eyes.

With hands still in the air, you don’t break eye contact with the man, and quietly start all over again, “My brother is hurt. And we need help.” You keep your voice calm, even though every nerve in your body is working overtime. But your voice doesn’t calm the situation at hand, from your peripheral vision you see someone jumping closer to you, pushing their dagger dangerously close to your skin, probably trying to scare you away.  

You close your eyes, and repeat what you’ve already said, hoping that the language is easy enough for them to understand. But as much as you’d like it to be true, you doubt they understand single word coming out of your mouth, their shouts continue to increase, even after you quieten your voice.

Desperately you lock your gaze with the man in front, his eyes burn your skin, but he’s the only one who doesn’t shout or threaten you; “Please” you whisper, overwhelmed, your eyes fill with tears.

He doesn’t move, only carefully observes you; he scans your trembling body, the longer he looks, the more his eyebrows furrow, and with each passing second you feel as though your last hope is dying out. Before he manages to join the rest in their hatred towards you, you overstep every violent shout of common sense, and quickly step closer to him.

The yells all around you increase to a deafening volume, and you see how the man in front of you freezes in caution. Perhaps you should back away and leave the terrified group alone, but the fear of your brother being hurt combined with you both being tired and lost only serves to increase your growing panic, all sensibility lost – your body driven by impulse.

You don’t know what you were thinking, wouldn’t be surprised if you weren’t thinking at all, but in a matter of second, you grab his hand, and hold it tightly in your arms.

If beforehand your every movement caused a burst of shouts and energy, now it turned deathly silent. His muscles contract under your touch, but you don’t let him pull away, rather bring his hand closer, intertwined with your own, over your heart.

Your actions bring panic back to life, but before they manage to grab you, the man in front of you raises his other hand, and as if following a silent command, everyone stops their movements. He doesn’t break your eye contact, and you’re sure, if not for his authority, you would’ve been a goner.

“Hurt,” you softly whisper, but his eyes continue to search yours, so you try again, and bring your intertwined hands to your forehead, where the bleeding gush from the fall marks your skin, “Hurt.”

A flash of understanding lights his eyes; you see it in his face, he recognizes what you’re saying, and against your better judgment, hope slowly starts to return. You move to point backwards where Tae awaits you, but all it takes is for you to break eye contact, for his hold to tighten around your hand.

Alarmed you turn back, painfully aware now is not the time to scare-off the only person who seems willing to listen. “Hurt” you point backwards, his eyes follow where you’ve pointed, but he doesn’t move, his gaze simply returns to yours, as if awaiting your next movement.

“Help,” you point behind you, but he seems satisfied staying where you’re at now. His hand goes to smooth down your, surely, nest of a hair, with slight intrigue enjoying the smooth texture.

He doesn’t seem bothered by your presence, taking his time, and exploring your features; but the longer you spend under his analyzing gaze, the darker it gets, and the alarming thoughts of your brother being unarmed and under natures free will leaves you antsy.

You don’t want to come off as rude, and scare them once more, but his touch feels more and more patronizing – you, standing here, in relative safety, all while Tae’s probably going out of his mind, scared for both you, and the prawning predators waiting for their shot.

“There,” you try again, antsy of the ignorance your disheveled state brings them, “Help, there.” You point to where Tae awaits you, and try to catch the domineering mans attention, but it turns out to be a harder task than initially anticipated.

He looks utterly content, but your older sister’s gene kicks in, and you pull his hand towards you while stepping back, “Help.”, more determent you repeat. From your peripheral vision you see the man all around you anxiously move, but you don’t break your gaze from the man in front of you, having a sense that this is a test of ones will.

He sees you’re not backing down, and once you take another cautious yet determined step backwards, he sighs and tilts his head as if overthinking his decision. He doesn’t seem frightened, or angry, rather annoyed.

For the first time you hear him speak, and you’d be willing to do close to anything to understand what exactly the words are falling from his lips. But judging by everyone’s lost facial expressions, it’s not something they want to hear.

You watch how one of them huffs and says something back, but the unresponsive and domineering look the man in front of you shoots him makes him lower his head and stop what he was saying awfully quick, almost as if in submission.

One thing for sure, the man whose hand you’ve grabbed holds some sort of authority; you’re quick to gather the inner pieces of the tribe’s dynamic, and thankfully you’ve managed to acquire some sort of bond with the one who holds the power. But limelight brings its own shadow, and you realize that one misstep or act of disrespect, and a ‘yes’ from the man in front, for your head to hang on their spears.

His domineering gaze doesn’t reach you, when he turns his head, relaxed he nods, and that’s enough of an approval for you to turn around and lead them back to your brother. Your mind drowns in tsunami, trees blend together, and you hope this is the right path you came from.

Your legs are wobbly, whether it’s due to exhaustion or the fall you don’t know, but you do note how quiet their footsteps are, barely even heard, whereas you’re stumbling through every branch, the mysterious man’s hands coming into clutch every now and then, when gravity seems lost on your body, and you’re about to facepalm the dirt.

The further you go, the more panicked you become, the walk didn’t seem so long when you first came, and your throat hurts in agony of you silencing your screams in search of your brother, remembering how raised voices frightened the group of dubious men.

Unknowingly, you’ve grabbed the mans hand iron tight, it being your only source of groundedness. You feel his body becoming more tense the closer to the cliff you go, they probably don’t wonder so far off, possibility of meeting other people too big of a threat.

You search for your brother through the dense woods, praying he’s somewhere around; you wouldn’t put it past yourself to be going in the wrong direction all together, greenery all around too confusing and similar for any sense of direction, your only hope being broken branches every now and then.

You stop in your footsteps once you hear a new sound in the overall quietness, something akin to a person groaning. Your heart beats violently in your chest, and everyone stops all around you, painfully alert to any possible danger.

But when you hear your name being whimpered by no one else but your brother, you don’t stop to overthink and drop the man’s hand, shouting after Tae and run forwards. Adrenaline over washes any pain – something you’ll worry about tomorrow – your shouts for your brother increase and your speed increases once you think you see his t-shirt shining in between trees.

But you don’t get any further, a strong force pushes you back into a hard chest, and you find yourself caged in the arms of the unknown male. You turn your head to him, and desperately point to where your brother’s voice is coming from and press “Help”, but all you’re met with is his heavy breathing, probably from chasing after you, and domineering gaze that requires obedience.

Tae stumbles fully into your sight, he was probably worried sick about you, and tried searching you; you see how his body freezes and he fearfully takes the sight in of men standing in ready-to-attack stances pointing their weapons at him.

Your last remnant of control breaks once Tae’s voice cracks as he close to whispers your name in fear, and no matter how strong or willed the man caging you is – he’s no match for a desperate woman.

You trash in his hold and scratch his skin, till you find one millisecond of his guard down for you to detach from his arms and run to your brother. You’ve no clue what Tae sees behind you, but he stumbles back in between all shouts and falls in dirt.

Exhausted yet relieved you drop to your knees and grab his face in your palms, “They will help you, please don’t fight it,” quickly you rumble, fearful the man will grab you away from your brother once more, “That’s a tribe” Tae looks terrified, a feeling you can much relate to, but the relief of him being alive and in your arms is too strong, and your eyes overflow with tears and you hug him close to your body, “Thank god you’re alright” you cry out in his shoulder.

To no surprise, a hand grabs the back of your jersey, and pulls you apart from Tae. Your teary gaze is met with the mans domineering one, and you practically feel fumes coming out of his ears when he firmly positions you behind his back.

He holds your waist with one arm, and in the other his spear, you can’t control your tears, probably due to the exhaustion and fear the last hours brought you. You’re pressed so close to his back you’re sure he feels your tears on his skin, and only when he says something to the men waiting for his command, do you realize how tall all of them are.

You try to look over his shoulder to see what’s happening, but you notice only small glimpses of Tae being surrounded by men and how he tries to scoot back. “Tae, don’t! They’ll help you” your voice wavers, you’re not sure of their intentions, but you have to hope that they will help. He stops struggling, and lets the men enclose him to look at his injuries.

Your head is stumped with all the emotions, and when the hand around your waste detaches to point something to the other men, you allow yourself to step back and sit against a tree trump, half-watching how their hands skim over your brothers’ legs to see whether he’s able to walk.

It’s a good minute of them looking over Tae’s injuries, you see one of them grab your backpack you threw in your brothers’ arms before searching for help, and thankfully Tae doesn’t fight them, and quickly gives whatever they ‘ask’ if you can even call it that. Fear hasn’t left his eyes, there’s still a chance they will take your stuff and leave you stranded, they didn’t seem happy of your presence - all you can do is hope.

You note how with such ease they open the backpack as if they do so regularly, perhaps they are a tribe, but dumb they are not, now looking at them you might even say they’re far more advanced than you are. Their clothes cover only their private parts, the closest thing to which you can relate it to is a leather skirt reaching up to their mid-thighs.

And yet, their bodies are resilient enough to withstand the cold and tropical weather. Wind doesn’t phase them, broad bodies standing firm and tall, whereas you’re sitting here, trembling – whether it’s from the wind or overload of emotions stays a secret.

You close your eyes in relief when you see them pick up your brother. Regardless of how hostile they were to you; they are not completely indifferent, or at least the man in control of them is. You open your eyes when you feel movement in front of you, only to be met by a hand reaching out.

When you look up, your gaze meets the man – the one to whom you’re probably indebted for the rest of your life. You take his hand in both of yours, but before he pulls you up, you say what you truly mean without breaking your gaze.

“Thank you.”

It’s a simple sentence that you’d look over regularly, but now, you put all of your soul into those two words – and you know he understands. Perhaps you don’t speak the same language, but at this exact moment you share the same truth and beat the same heart. The moment doesn’t last longer than a second, but his fingers tighten against yours and you feel the strings of an unspoken promise connecting you both.

But the moment passes as quickly as it came, you hear your brothers pained whimper and you whip your head towards the sound; you watch in slight intrigue and caution how the group of men carry him in their arms, one holding his shoulders, one his legs, and two his waist.

You don’t manage to utter a word before you’re pulled upwards, but when you balance your weight on both of your legs you hiss in pain and hold onto his arms. Now that the initial adrenaline slowly wears off, your own injuries from the fall have become visible.

The man whose name you still don’t know follows your gaze and quickly gathers the problem, you don’t have to say a single thing for him to drop his spear and bend down and inspect your foot; you see how he tries to be gentle, but on the slightest pressure on your ankle, you crumble forwards and balance on his shoulders.

“I’m so sorry” you quickly mumble in panic and straighten up, worried you’re overstepping any boundaries by touching him even if so by an accident, but he looks up and shoots you a gaze you could only describe as worried and apologetic.

There’s no time for you to react before he tuts and picks you up in his arms, the sudden movement leaving you breathless. But your alarmed facial expressions don’t phase him, and he simply starts moving forwards. You whip your head backwards to see the rest of the group following you, them carrying your brother close behind, at least some sort of reassurance filling you.

“Thank you, but you can put me down,” you turn back to the man carrying you, but you’re met with silence. “I can walk, it doesn’t hurt.” Lies, complete and utter lies. You feel your leg pulsate even without applying any pressure to it, but if you managed to walk beforehand, you should be able to do so now…right? Or is delusion truly taking over your brain?

The man holding you seems to agree, he doesn’t respond just gives you a look that screams ‘who are you trying to fool?’ that makes your shoulders drop and gaze lower in surrender. Your body is frigid, he surely feels it too, but your body is pressed so closely to his naked chest, that you swear you feel his heartbeat.

You try to keep yourself as far away as possible from his chest, but that seems to be pointless as he holds you closer when he steps over a fallen tree or ducks under a branch; you’re mortified, both from the understanding how much of a burden your presence has caused them, and also from the embarrassing intimacy the position brings you.

There is a reason why they were so scared of you, and yet they’ve overstepped it and most probably are bringing you to their shelter – their most sacred and protected space. You try to keep busy and memorize the way you’re going, after all you’ll need to follow the route tomorrow, but that seems to be harder than expected when there’s a living radiator engulfing you.

You try your best, you truly do, but your eyes betray you and your gaze falls on the arms carrying you; aside from the naked skin and natures shaped muscles you notice something else entirely. His skin is decorated in patterns, something similar to tattoos, just without ink, painting his skin in different designs. You don’t manage to explore it further, although your curiosity is spiked, as it seems he feels your wandering eyes and looks at you.

Embarrassed, you instantly avert your eyes, but you feel his gaze locking you in place. Couple of seconds pass before timidly you look up, but his gaze hasn’t moved, and your eyes meet; never before had you noticed how expressive one’s eyes are, the quiet dominance he possesses, and untold words shaping his eyes.

If you weren’t looking carefully, you would’ve missed it, but when he breaks eye contact, the corners of his lips slightly rise, almost as if he’s smug he caught you red-handed; the small detail makes you curl up even further, embarrassment too timid of a word to describe how you’re feeling.

You look up only when he starts speaking in his own tongue and slows down, and when you do, your breath is taken away. You’re not sure what you expected their shelter to look like, perhaps couple of sticks and a leaf roof; but now you’re looking at close to a small village.

Makeshift fence surrounds the self-made small houses, and from your vantage, you can’t see the end of it. People gather and cheer once they see their men returning, happy faces and children running up to greet them by the fence, but once they notice you in, as you guess, their leaders arms their cheers are overturned by worried looks and murmuring.

You watch in astonishment, not sure how the tribe has not yet been put on maps and history books, this surely is never before seen. The sparse knowledge you’ve of tribes say they consist of small numbers of people, all barely surviving the harsh ways of nature; but if you weren’t aware that you’re going into a tribe’s space, you would’ve easily mistaken it for a distant village from society.

You notice how the man carrying you moves carefully, almost as if following a pattern, avoiding certain potholes and paths. He oversteps barely visible strings, and you wonder whether that’s a trap to catch any dangerous animals threatening their home. You look over his shoulder and see the rest of the group following him in a stretched line, being just as careful as he is. It does leave you wondering, feeling as though you’re walking through a minefield.

The makeshift gate opens, and not even a full step into their territory you’ve to fight your inner need to run; everyone’s eyes are on you, a mix of fear and intrigue greeting you. You feel as though you’re a rare artifact ready to examen. More people gather, their shushed murmurs travelling with wind, and guilt bubbles in your chest knowing you’ve disturbed their reality once you notice how mothers protectively guide their children behind them.

Their gazes sweep up to the man carrying you, as if searching for some sort of consolation, and your previous hunch comes into fruition – he does hold some sort of respect within the group. Is it wrong to say you find some sort of comfort knowing the one they look up to is the one who protected you; suddenly his boundary overstepping touch doesn’t feel unwelcoming. You’ve a feeling as long as he stays on your side, you’ll be fine.

He carries you to what seems like a gathering place just before the fence, and carefully lets you down on a makeshift bench before a bonfire. You’re cautious with your movements, not wanting to scare anyone even more, but you instantly look around for your brother, slightly relaxing when he’s seated near you.

The man holds up a finger bringing your attention back to him, signaling for you to wait. Your gaze quickly goes back to your brother, who instantly meets your gaze with a concerned one, and uncomfortably you shift and point to him, “I’ll go to him if that’s alright.”

It’s pointless to expect any sort of a response from him, but he narrows his eyes and after couple of seconds of him unmoving, you testingly shift closer to Tae, all while watching his reaction. He doesn’t react, only slightly purses his lips. You feel his gaze on you, as if he’s analyzing your movements and your connection with Tae, but when you reach him, the man turns back to his people and addresses them. You take that as your que.

“I need you to stay calm, Tae-” but he doesn’t let you finish, “Stay calm?! We’re in middle of nowhere with people who might as well kill us!” you shush him and look around to check if somebody heard you; even if you don’t speak the same tongue, you know the man understood at least some words you had said.

As if it was confirmed, you notice how the man who saved you shoots you a look. “As of now, they haven’t done anything wrong,” you turn back to Tae, choosing to withhold how you were almost killed when they first saw you. “I promise, we’ll leave first thing tomorrow, but for now, do as they say and keep quiet.”

You take his hands into your own, holding onto the last bit of normalcy. He’s here, you’re both alive, you’ll be alright. “How do you feel?” after a moment you ask, his injuries don’t look too good, his skin is bruised, and if the men deemed it necessary to carry him, it can’t be good.

“Have felt better.” His dismissive tone tells you enough, and you squeeze his hand tighter, feeling extremely useless, not having a clue how you can help him. “I’m more worried about him.” Curious you look where he nods his head and see the leader stealing looks your way every now and then when his people speak.

“He’s not taking his eyes off of us.” He purses his lips in thought, “Or rather, you. I can’t forget how he looked at me in the forest, I thought he was going to kill me when you ran up to me.” You ponder over his words, you noticed how Tae fell back in fright when you approached him, but it does make sense for them to be cautious.

“Bee, I don’t think we should stay here. I don’t have a good feeling.” you try to shush him in vain, your dismissal only spurges him on, “I know this is my fault, I should’ve overthought it when I saw warnings of dangerous habitats and rumors of people going missing. But this was said to be one of the most beautiful hiking spots, so I-”

That is news to you, never before had he mentioned it to you, and you want to pry further, but one worried look thrown to the tribe and you see them already finishing their talk, people moving in different directions and the leader coming your way.

“You’ll tell me tomorrow-” but he interrupts in an exasperated manner, “We can’t stay here!” you glance at the leader and how he stops near you, far enough to not be seen if you wouldn’t be looking, but close enough to hear.

“Listen to me, we’re good.” Rushed, you grab his cheeks and strongly whisper, “We need the shelter, and they’ve been good to us. I’ll protect you.” His eyes fill with tears, and your heart squeezes seeing your brother so vulnerable, both from the injuries and fear.

You hug him and massage his back, trying to give some sort of support. You’re just as terrified as he is, but right now you have to be strong; the pressure of being the oldest child falling on your shoulders, the one responsibility you’ll never manage to evade, no matter the hardships you go through.

You notice people gathering around you, distant enough for their safety, yet close enough for you to feel enclosed. You slowly detach from Tae and get startled when you notice how the leader is standing right in front of you; it’s nerve-wracking how quiet their steps are.

A woman comes up to him, holding some sort of ceramic bowl in her hands. She’s careful holding it, and you notice she’s doing her best to not spill the liquid inside. Nerves creep back into your system when the leader grabs your hands, and helps you stand up, thus separating you from your brother.

You timidly watch how the woman hands him the bowl and he nods his head in gratitude, the exchange only further showing the respect woven within their group. He presses the bowl to your lips, and your back straightens, all caution signals awakened in your body.

The brownish-green liquid touches your lips and alarmed you back away biting back a whimper when you put your weight on your hurt leg and fearfully ask, “What is that?”. For all you know, it could be poison, Taes previous words still travel through your mind of how people have disappeared.

He doesn’t answer, just raises one eyebrow in a challenging manner. You’ve a bad suspicion you don’t have a choice in the matter, and you know for a fact disrespecting their leader would be the end of you, especially when they show such high regards to him.

And yet, you don’t know their ulterior motives. You hear Taehyungs worried voice calling you, and you know, if you refuse, you’ll put both of you in danger. “I’m fine, don’t worry.” You try your best to sound convincing, but your voice wavers, and you have to gulp down your fears and hope, hope that these people have a sense of empathy for you.

He steps forward and presses the bowl once more to your lips, and you meet his gaze with your shaky eyes and surrendered ask, “If I drink it, he won’t have to, right?”. His eyes narrow in something you can only describe as mix of annoyance and confusion; he tilts the bowl forwards and you’re met with the bitter liquid.

You try to pull away, but he tilts your head higher, and you’re forced to drink the acrid liquid, your eyes water; only when the bowl is empty, he lets you go, and you fall into uncontrollable coughs. The unpleasant taste overpowering any other sense.

Still coughing, you turn to Tae, only to see him drinking the same liquid with a disgusted expression. The taste seems worse when you don’t know what exactly it is you’re drinking. Only when Tae has finished his drink, the group of people backs up with nods of approval and seem to fall back into their daily regime.

“What was that?” he coughs when you sit beside him, but you ignore his question being lost yourself, “Do you feel any different?” you try to focus your gaze and work out what the liquid was. You’re not in any extra pain, and you’re breathing fine, you doubt it was poison.

“Not really.” He shrugs his shoulders, and you fall into silence, overthinking what just happened. Was he testing you? Is it some sort of medicine? Your mind threatened to burst from all the thoughts running through it, a migraine impending, but then, as if in a snap of a finger your mind became quiet.

A sense or serenity washes over you, where everything seems less important than it is. “Bee?” you hum back, “Those girls are reeeaally pretty.” His slurred speech makes you turn to him with a questioning gaze. He’s watching two women giggling to one another and shooting Tae inquisitive gazes.

“Are you okay?” you’re not sure how his mind can go there, when the only thing that’s on your mind is his well-being, but now even that thought seems buried somewhere far away. “Oh, I’m good.” He gives you a lopsided grin, and you let out a cackle in disbelief, you turn to the women and have to agree, they are beautiful, hair shining due to the ferocious bonfire, smiles gleaming and eyes full of mischief.

“Where are you going?” you grab his hand when he stands up, but he lightheartedly shrugs it off, “I wanna talk to them.” And just like that, he’s gone, you shout one last time whether he’s fine, after all, his skin is colored in deep purple shades, but with a slight limp he shouts not to worry.

You sit there, slightly offended of being left all alone; all you wish to do is hug your brother close and sleep off all the exhaustion, but apparently your minds work in different trajectories. Dejected you watch him going up to the two girls, his social-butterfly skills coming into play as you hear laughter coming from their way.

Your shoulders relax and you watch all around you for a place to rest your head, the wooden trunk bench hurting your back. You fixate on a tree behind you, but when you stand up, the effects of whatever you drank come full-force. Your mind can’t process the sudden movement, and you feel gravity calling your name as everything around you becomes blurry.

Stumbling, you fall against the tree and rest your head against it, head feeling dizzy; you close your eyes, focusing on breathing, but your mind is filled with pulsating waves. You don’t know how much times has passed, if you had to guess, a couple of minutes, but the presence of time is barely credible, in matter of a blink, nightfall has overtaken sky, and stars blind you.

You have to force your eyes to stay open, and when you do and try to focus on the environment around you, confusion overtakes your body; it felt like couple of minutes, but everything has changed.

Bonfire lights up everything in the near distance, people have gathered all around it, some playing home-made instruments, that you could only guess are something alike harmonicas, flutes, and drums in midst of those you don’t recognize. Benches are filled with people humming along and chitchatting. Upon further inspection, you’re sure that’s your brother sitting on a bench, trying to sing along to the unfamiliar tune and laughing with a group of girls encircling him.

You shake your head at your brothers’ doings, always been jealous of his ways of living, the way he’s capable of making connections with people he just met and enjoying every color and shade life gifts. But you’re at peace here, sitting behind them and overlooking their happiness from afar.

You’re completely relaxed and calm when a couple of unsteady feet run past you, tripping over a rock; you automatically reach your hands out and catch the little creature of happiness. Big, blue eyes gaze up at you, and your heart tugs at their adoring smile, small teeth showing through lips, probably just breaking out from gums.

“Are you okay?” you ask the small child in an amused tone, only for them to bite their fingers and giggle all while shaking their head. You realize your emotions are heightened when you’re close to crying when the little one squeezes your cheeks and babbles something that goes over your head.

The single interaction leaving you with heart fuller of love than the whole year prior, you let the child go and watch how the small beacon of light runs to a woman standing and overlooking you both with a smile on her face.

She picks him up and kisses his face as he smiles and tries to get away. You wonder why these people are so feared, when all you see is energy filled with love and happiness. You relish the warmth, not sure whether it’s due to the fire or the love and comfort filled atmosphere. Whichever it is, you relinquish in it, and find your body and mind more relaxed than ever. The feeling so sought for after all these years.

You smile when the woman holding her child comes up to you and sits down. Usually, your mind would be filled with anxiousness of how to interact with an unknown person, but now you just smile and tell her your name, completely lost of the fact she doesn’t understand a single word.

But she doesn’t have to, she grabs your hand and squeezes it tight, whole-heartedly welcoming your presence. She shoots you a smile, and right then and there you melt at the sight, her smile so warm and motherly you want to hide in her protective arms.

Your emotions come into play once more, and you feel yourself tearing up – from what you’ve no clue, but the amount of love and peace you feel is overwhelming. “Are you alright?” She laughs at your uncontrollable emotions, “I’m alright, please don’t mind me.” You wipe your tears and try to calm down, until a realization downs your mind. She spoke English.

Quickly you turn your head to her smiling frame, overjoyed of her knowing your language, completely missing the puzzle peace of how she could know English.

“You understand me! You speak English!” your elated expression makes her laugh linger; she shakes her head with a smile and pats the child’s blonde hair who very comfortably sits in her lap, “Little, our Jungookie knows best.” She points where the group has gathered, you follow her gaze to be met with the leader, finally gathering his name. He feels your gaze and instantly looks up, but you don’t waver, enthralled by the newfound information.  

If your mind was working clear, you would’ve been terrified by the knowledge, not only because of the missing information of how they know it, but also from overthinking what exactly have you spoken that could incriminate you. But it doesn’t. And you’re happy knowing you’ve found someone whose roots are entangled with yours.

“You’re amazing.” You look back to her with a gaze one could only describe as being love filled, but you truly are amazed by all of them, how strong and kind they are despite all life throws their way. The woman tuts, smile never leaving for a minute, you’re not bothered by how she looks at you as if you’re a child confessing their love, you simply enjoy this moment.

Weight falling into your lap overtakes your attention, and you watch how the little one snuggles in both of your laps and stretches his little arms. “Aren’t you a cutie?” you ask only for him to shoot you his brightest smile. You tickle the little skin that shows through his cloth, and watch overjoyed how he giggles and tries to scoot away from the ticklish sensation. You laugh as if you’re being tickled yourself, his happiness extremely contagious.

The woman says something in her language to the child, and you watch how he quickly nods his head and climbs in her lap, but not before he throws his entire weight on you and gives you a hug. You’re a complete stranger to the group, and yet they’ve managed to make you feel more welcomed than anyone before.

You’re enthralled by their ways of living, and you watch how gently the woman interacts with, presumably, her child, although you note how different they look to one another. You attention is piqued when she moves her clothes to what you assume is breastfeed the boy, you quickly move your head to others, ready to move in front of her to shield her from any nasty comments and dirty looks, but when you do, no one cares.

Some women around the fire breastfeed their children, and you’re confused by the lack of acknowledgment and uninterest showed by others. But then again, you guess that some behaviors are thought.

She hums in wonder when she notices your on-guard reaction, but you simply shake your head, lost in wonder of their ways. You don’t stop the incredulous laugh bubbling through your chest and sit back against the tree in disbelief of how differently the world works for you.

“Do you often go outside of your home?” You break the comfortable silence, the question bugging your mind ever since you saw her peoples terrified expressions. She looks confused at your question, and you point outside to the forest, not sure if she understands what you’re saying.

Realization dawns upon her, and she quickly shakes her head seemingly bothered by the change in topic, “No, no, no,” her movements become more agitated, and the little one detaches from her breast from the sudden movement, “There – bad,” she fixes the cloth like dress and points to the forest, “Very, very bad, we stay here – safe.”

The question clearly made her uncomfortable, if the frown on her lips is anything to go by, whether it’s bad memories or what, but the way her tone gets agitated and her hand gestures more animated makes you lean in and nod your head in faux understanding, completely lost to the fact you might be the one they’re so scared of.

“Men go there, food.” she points once again to the forest, shiver travelling up her spine, “We here, safe. Here good.” The woke of emotions makes her loose track of English, she spurts out some words you don’t recognize, but the way she emphasizes ‘here good’, makes you believe her, as if you understand each and every word.

It does make you think how it would be to live here, her confident and pressing tone leaves you wondering whether she’s right. You watch how the little one stands up on his wobbly feet, denying the urge within yourself to help him, and runs to the group of people sitting by the fire.

You’re curious when he stops by another woman, and she takes him in her arms without a single thought and showers him in kisses. You watch the interaction and wonder which of the two women is his mother, but then again – it’s their world, they don’t hold such strict rules like you do.

The woman besides you doesn’t care, just smiles at the interaction, and shakes her head. When she gets up to leave, a weird sense of remorse overtakes you, you wish to hold out your hand and ask her to stay, surprisingly, her presence brings you comfort, but you don’t.

But by the look on her face, she knows how you’re feeling, and she pats your hair in a motherly way, and says, “Not worry. You’re not alone. Am not the only who speak to you.” Your brows furrow trying to distinguish her words, and you follow her gaze to the group, and see the leader, or as you gathered, Jungkook, looking at you. He doesn’t look threatening, the joyous atmosphere making him look younger, but his unmoving gaze makes you feel small, not sure how long he’s been watching you.

You look back to her when she hums, “Sweetie, he watching you all night.” You acknowledge her smile, although the meaning of her words travels right past your ears, “I see you later.” And with the last pat to your hair, she’s gone. You hope you’ll see her later, even if it’s just before you leave, and with a childish gleam you smile knowing you’ve made a friend.

It’s hard to control your mind, as if the pulsating ideas and emotions bubble form previously suppressed parts within yourself. Parts you longed for, but never was able to meet. Suddenly everything seems sweet, the cruel ways of life unknown.

You watch in delight how relaxed everyone around you is, the way their bodies sway to music, how gently some man massages woman’s shoulders, how in such delight someone combs their fingers through a woman’s hair, you laugh noticing how a man giggles when children surround him jumping up and down asking to be picked up. Wherever you look, you’re filled with peaceful happiness.

In day-to-day life, you’d be waiting for the other shoe to drop, for the sweetness to rot and ask for a price for the moment of happiness, but even if it does, you’d be willing to do it again just to experience these couple of moments of untainted happiness.

You must look pitiful, sitting all alone, your eyes watering with unshed tears once again, but you don’t have the means within you to blame yourself. You realize it’s probably the drink you had that’s making the walls of your heart crumble, you should be worrying of how to leave this place early morning, or even analyze the possible danger you’re facing, but your mind feels at ease, heart crumbling to vulnerability and honesty. If the gates were to open and they’d ask you to leave right this instance, you’re sure, you’d be begging to stay.

“Hi,” you sniffle and look up where the voice comes from. You freeze when you realize the leader is standing right in front of you; somewhere in the depts of your mind you know you’ve to be on your best behavior, but the emotions have taken you deep within and you meekly greet him before wiping your tears.

If you were under normal circumstances, you’d be embarrassed of someone seeing you cry, but even though your emotions are hitting all time high, your mind is at ease, as if nothing in this world could make you worried.

His brows furrow seeing your distraught state, “Are you alright? Does your leg hurt?” you shake your head in dismissal, but he still bends down and gently presses his fingers against your ankle. Stunned, you watch his fingers massaging your leg; not long ago, you couldn't properly stand, so why does his touch feel welcoming and not hurtful?

“No…it doesn’t...?” dazed, you search his eyes for an answer, but all he does is smile at your pouty lips and confused expression, “That’s good, isn’t it?” his smile is comforting, and you nod your head lost of words to say.

“Why are you crying then? Are you scared?” his hands continue massaging your leg, and you don’t even flinch when he rips the ends of your jeans for more access to your skin. You sigh at how warm his touch feels, even though he’s dressed in less layers, his skin is burning in comparison to yours, “No, no,” you shake your head, and he tilts his head, giving you all of his attention, “You just look so peaceful.”

Your eyes keep wandering to the joyous group in front of you, a weird sense of longing fills your body. You miss the way he carefully analyzes your expression, mind lost in wonders of emotions, too focused on his gentle touch and warm atmosphere.

“It’s the drink, isn’t it?” you look back at him when he hums questioningly, “That’s making me feel this way? This weird calmness when everything is just so pretty?” if beforehand you thought his smile was beautiful, now you’re ready to drown in his pearly whites, watching in childish delight how his smile grows. You can’t stop yourself and lightly trace the dimple on his cheek his hand falling over yours.

“Partially,” He caresses your hand, and gently separates it from his cheek, “It shows your true emotions,” you close to melt when he pecks your hand before laying it in your lap, both of your hands entangled, “all the repressed thoughts, desires.”

You squeeze his hand, trying to stay focused on what he’s saying, but your attention drives to his eyes, noticing how his own pupils seem dilated, and you wonder whether he also drank the liquid. “Everything you’ve tried to hide.” His hands move to your knees and unconsciously your muscles tighten, the warm contact unexpected, yet desired.

“Could I-” you bite your lip, not sure whether you should ask, but the words push past all your peripheries; perhaps you’re too comfortable, but the way his eyes stay in a permanent smile and his steady gaze fixates on you, as if nothing else is important makes your mind feel at such ease, the words escape you before you manage to overthink them.

“Could I have some more, please?” even if you’ll regret those words when haze clears from your mind, selfishly, you don’t want this moment to end; his touch is gentle, and he caresses a stray strand of hair from your face, you watch how he nods his head all while a smile spreads across his face - it’s not malicious or devious, it’s comforting.

His presence is comforting. As if there’s no bad in the world – as if you can do no bad. “Of course, you can.” You can’t even pretend to feel guilty when his actions are so validating. Without any excuses or ridicule, he gets up and walks towards the group, where you notice a pot by the fire. Only now you see the cup being passed around the bonfire, gleaming flames and shining stars illuminates the free spirit of those around you.

You notice another previously missed detail – even though his hair reaches just above shoulders, a single braid, longer than his hair, graces down his back. You watch in wonder another sign of his culture, quickly realizing that no other man shares the same detail. You wonder whether it signifies his position within the tribe.

Even though most of the tribe members you’ve seen are on the younger side, an older male, probably no older than 50, sits by himself away from the fire. You watch in wonder the lone individual, wondering why he’s the only one keeping away from his people. But what catches your attention is the same braid that decorates Jungkooks hair, only his being twice as long.

He doesn’t seem bothered, every now and then he looks up from sharpening his spear, but his eyes scream sorrow when he gazes at the youngsters mingling, and you wonder what’s hiding behind his pain.

His sorrowful eyes awaken a need for you to comfort him, and you’re ready to go up to him, before your attention is cascaded back to Jungkook who returns to his previous spot, down on his knees between your legs, only now he’s holding a cup in his hands.

You quickly divert your attention back to him, the lonesome man forgotten, and with newfound excitement greet him, as if you haven’t seen him in days, although it was a couple of minutes at best, “Hi!” your smile is contagious as you see his own smile growing.

“Long time no see,” his pearly whites press against his lips when you giggle; you’re sure he could say whatever, funny or not, and you’d still be a giggling mess. He presses the cup in your hands, and you grimace at the smell.

“I realized I still don’t know your name,” he mutters as you take a sip of the drink, trying to hold back a cough. Shuddering from the taste you look at him, “Everyone calls me Bee,” his confused expression urges you for an explanation.

“You know, like the little insects with wings,” you flutter your hands imitating flying, “Why?” you take another sip and nonchalantly answer, “Always hard-working.”

You look down at the dark liquid with a grimace, completely missing the way his eyebrows scrunch and the scowl on his lips, “How is that going for you?”, the drink works its magic, and you spit out the first thing that comes into your mind while snickering, “Awful, but you know, strong independent woman.” You smile and show off your muscles.  

Your words may be harsh, but your mind blurs the meaning of them, as if you’re unable to keep anything behind closed lips and sweetened truth. “Would you like some?” you press the cup against his lips, mind flying all over the place.

Ones culture is an interesting concept, the action means nothing to you, but the way his eyes quickly zero-in on your face, puppy eyes searching whether you’re joking, must hold a deeper meaning.

He takes a sip of the drink, not breaking your eye contact. His eyes are shining in delight, from what exactly you’re not sure, but you do know one thing – whatever you just done must’ve meant something to him.

You close your eyes and feel the effects drown your mind in pulsating waves, every beat of the instruments playing in the background resonates in your body, your heart beats pressing in your chest, and all the exhaustion leaving your shoulders. You feel at peace, as if a comforting blanket is thrown over your body.

But the freer your body feels, the less in control of your actions you become. It should be terrifying, how fuzzy everything is, but you let it take control.

You feel his hand caressing your hair and hum in pleasure, “Why are you not afraid?” you slightly open your eyes and note how that feels like a task in itself, “Of what?” you tilt your head and gratefully accept the liquid when he presses the cup to your lips.

“Me.” He wipes the corners of your lips, curiosity shining in his eyes, you note how he seems more in control of his actions, whereas it’s hard for you to hold onto a single thought, “You could’ve hurt me if you wanted to, but instead you’ve taken care of me more than anyone before.”

“And if I’m being honest,” you giggle to yourself, “Even if you would hurt me now, I wouldn’t care, I’ve never felt so good.” He shakes his head at your words, “I’m not going to hurt you.” His tone is serious, and you can see he means his words when he puts down the drink and cups your cheeks.

It’s hard to focus on his words, and you know he’s doing his best to hold your attention, when he turns your head to meet his gaze, “You promise?” his brow arches at your challenging eyes. You hold up your pinky finger and giggle at his lost expression.

Unsure, he puts his pinky finger next to yours, and you wrap yours around his, “I’ll hold this promise till your dying breath, if you break it, you’ll be downgraded to a typical man, and trust me-” you beckon him closer, “That’s a veery low standard.”

He shakes his head with a smile, and you rest against the tree. You take the cup in your hands and notice another detail, “That’s pretty.” You murmur looking at his hands. Now, free of all concerns how you might look and what you should and shouldn’t say you look closer at the designs across his skin.

Uncaring, you draw your fingers against his biceps, “How did you make it?” his eyes are focused on your fingers, and you smile when you feel goosebumps covering his skin, “Knife.” His voice is noticeably deeper, and you internally wince imagining knife drawn across his skin.

“It must’ve hurt…” you outline your fingers over a spiral like bump, “Worth it if you like it.” You look up and laugh at his wide grin, he takes your hand and draws your fingers over the spiral, “This one is life cycle,”

“This one,” he notes four felixes connected by a line, “Strength.” You look over the lines, half listening to his explanations, but you notice how the shapes look only half-completed over his chest, “These aren’t finished…”

“No, no. Each section represents something, this one,” he puts your hand over his chest, “Can’t finish it yet.” The tattoos look weirdly out of place, half-started lines, and shapes, missing their significance.

He gazes at his lower arm, “This is family, and this,” he moves his bicep, “Strength. Back is for pride, and chest,” he smiles when you continue exploring the lonesome bumps, “Higher self. Love.” That catches your attention, “Love is your highest self?”  

“Of course, without it you’re incomplete. One half of a whole.” You hum, not able to disagree. “Well then, I hope you’ll be able to finish it soon.” You feel his heartbeat under your palm, skin so warm, like a woolen blanket in midst of winter. “I think I will.”

His whisper goes over your head, with each passing second you feel your body slipping further into depths of your mind, and when Jungkook presses the cup final time against your lips asking you to drink up, you mindlessly follow his command.

Shivers travel down your spine, the horrid taste clings to your tongue, and you force yourself to swallow the acrid drink. “You’re fine,” he strokes your back when you cough, not sure how he’s able to drink it without any reaction.

But the feeling is worth it, almost instantly the effects pull you under, this time, twice as hard. You close your eyes and enjoy the feeling, stars dancing in your mind. Jungkooks hand detaches from your back, and subconsciously you grab it and pull him closer, a weird craving nips your body, longing for some sort of physical touch.

“Don’t do that.” You mumble with drawn eyebrows. Alarm bells ring in your mind, fear, if he pulls back the coldness will seep back in. “If I could, I’d stay here forever,” you can’t control your words, all the unconscious thoughts pouring over.

“Why can’t you?” his question leaves your brain on a pause. Truly, why can’t you? You open your eyes and see his face right in front of yours, the stars that shined in your mind shine brighter in his eyes. Now looking at him you can’t remember why you can’t stay; you can’t remember all you fight for in your day-to-day.

All of it seems pointless. Would anyone care if you wouldn’t return? Rather, would anyone notice if you wouldn’t return? The thought leaves a deep bruise over your heart, and you don’t lie when you whisper, “I don’t know.”

Be it some underlying scar, but you wish to feel something real. His body is so close to yours, yet it feels as though you’re separated by winters of seas. The small distance is freezing, and you pull his hand closer to your chest, hoping, he’d close the distance and pull you into his warmth.

The desire to feel his touch is overbearing, your eyes fill with tears of unsaid words, it’s hard to express what you’re feeling, when the emotion is so deep rooted you can’t grab onto its essence. You search his eyes, begging him to understand, but the man in front of you looks just as starved as you are, and you know, you both share the same scars.

You don’t say a word when he moves closer, you don’t need to. Same understanding fills you, and you know he feels the same. His breath fawns over your lips, defrosting years long winter, and when his lips connect with yours, all is lost, and the eternal glaciers melt with the first caress of sun.

The action seems so natural, his lips over yours at place, you don’t want him to pull back. His touch is hot against yours, his hand climbing up your thigh, and you feel as though you’re melting in his arms.

But thoughts of your brother needing you pulls you back, as comforting as his touch feels, you also know it can’t last. You detach from his lips, worry of Tae clouding your mind, but it’s hard to hold on to it, when his lips move to your neck, sinfully gliding over your skin.

“Jungkook,” your hands wove in his hair, “I can’t.” you have to forcefully mutter those words, every inch of your body screaming otherwise. But just as hard as it is for you to say it, it’s the same for him to detach from your skin.

He looks you in the eye seriously, looking for any sense of truth when he knows, that’s not how you’re feeling, “What’s holding you back?”. Your mind is in a great war with your truest self, both sides screaming one at another, and you crumble under the pressure you unknowingly cage yourself in.

“My brother. I can’t do this, he needs me.” But your words don’t ring a sense of understanding to him, he shakes his head and guides your head where your brother is sitting, “I’d say he’s doing quite well.”

His lips return to your neck, and you watch how your brother is kissing one of the women from before, completely lost in his own world, without a care of anything around him. You bite your lip when his teeth graze at a particularly sensitive spot near your jaw, it’s hard to fight against your inner turmoil when the one thing you truly long for, has fallen in your arms.

But if Tae can be free within himself, why can’t you? The high ice walls of your heart slowly crumble with each swipe of his tongue and before you know it, you cave in, and pull your legs closer against his hips.

You let him take the lead, and loose yourself in the feeling; your eyes watch how prettily stars shine on both of you, never before have you seen such pretty skies, you’re sure somewhere they’ve aligned, teaching you meaning behind unconditional love.

You don’t protest when his hands wrap around your legs and pulls you up and leads you somewhere – you don’t even care where, when his touch is the only thing, you care for. But as you’re leaving the site, your eyes connect with the lonesome man, he looks at you in curiosity, and stops sharpening his weapon, for a second you see the vulnerability in his eyes, memories travelling through the pits of his cold gaze, and you wonder, what is his story.

Darkness of night separates you from his silhouette, the further along you go, the more trust you’ve to put in the arms carrying you, you’ve lost all sense of control, but it’s hard to seek it, when it’s the first time you’ve felt no need for it.

You realize you trust him, trust him to guide you right, trust him to cherish you for this night; it’s not an easy task for someone like you, sharp walls crashing anyone who steps too close for your own safety, but you know tonight is different, when every part of you wishes to let him take control, and seep into the depths of his gentle caresses.

Time is a subordinate under his compelling will, you can’t focus on anything else but the way your hearts beat the same union; whatever he wishes and does, you’ll comply, not because of a need to be owned or told what to do, but because you know, he won’t do anything to hurt you.

He holds you tighter than the sanity of his dubious thoughts, you both know whatever this is might end up costing more than the freedom itself, but what is freedom, when the others touch brings you back to life?

Your tongues stay entangled one with another, his muscle teases you, never quite giving you what you wish him to, but never leaves you stranded. He dips his tongue over yours, but pushes it back, leaving you to seek for it more, but just when you think he’s left you wanting, his tongue entangles with your own, sharing the same passion and longing, giving you every part of his essence, the good and bad expressed with desire.

You feel your body ascending, and when you open your eyes, you see him climbing up stairs, all the houses and entangled couples looking smaller with each step, you know he’s making sure to keep you safe. His hands gripping your lower tights, pressing your body closer till your breath runs out.

Your mind solely focuses on the feeling, completely dismissing the environment around you; you feel soft furs beneath your body, only accelerating the growing warmth inside of you, never before felt combination of comfort and affection. It’s as though your minds are combined, golden strings mark your desires, growing stronger and bolder with each passing minute.

Lost in the sensation of soft touches and heartfelt kisses, you don’t notice your vulnerability beneath him; how could you notice your clothes scattered on the wooden floor, when his body heats every part within you in scorching desire, his caresses draw your mind further in the auroras of pleasure, not a single part of you left unattended and unkissed.

You arch your back, chest pressed against his, when you feel your inner emptiness filled, and your bodies finally bound; you sigh in relief, pinpointing the churning feeling finally relieved when he presses himself deeper within your walls, and wraps his hands around your body, not a single share left for the winter’s harsh winds.

His body is everywhere, inside you, around you, within you; as if every part of you is his, just as every part of him – yours. If someone told you, you’re one peace of a soul, you wouldn’t doubt it for a second; every escaped moan and curse, he catches with his lips, and every time his hips move away from yours, your hands press them back in, wrapped around his lower back, preventing the sought for feeling disappear.

But you don’t have to worry of him disappearing, for as much as your soul yearns for its mark of belonginess, his yearns tenfold. Your every touch and escaped moan awakens his untamed desire, every part of him, solely dedicated to you. He kisses your fallen tears and ruptured scars, knowing he is the one to mend them, even if it takes his own blood and tears, he’ll make sure your souls are woven together; for what he bleeds you soothe, and for what you pain, he mends.  

You’re alive within the feeling, your only focus on pleasure and essence, when you closed your eyes, the darkness of nights secrets held you safe, but when you open them, beams of light showcased life’s truth. And not a single moment between them left unpleasurable.

Jungkook lays across your chest, head pressed against your breasts softly kissing your fingers, your own hand is sprayed across his back, caressing it in gentle patterns, your legs entangled with one another. The feeling of fullness hasn’t left you, and you refuse to move, all the pieces finally connecting.

Your mind is as fuzzy as ever, enjoying the warmth that comes from two people understanding each other, laying in their soft caresses and untold love confessions. Your fingers draw over the bumps on his back, and you note the small, straight lines covering his back, taking extra care to not touch the two that are still healing.

“Why haven’t you finished your chest tattoos?” your voice is groggy, and you have to clear your voice to get an even tone. He stops his movements hearing your voice, and turns his head to face you, a small smile adorning his face, completely at peace enjoying your warmth, “I told you, didn’t I?”

Your purse your lips in thought, something you weren’t able to process the first time he told you, “Well, yes. But your family loves you, doesn’t it count?” You saw the respect they hold for him first-hand, that sort of love can’t be attained by anyone, and by the looks of it, he must know it.

“It has to be your other half.” He shakes his head and kisses your breasts. “I, provide safety and strength,” he flexes his muscles, and sneaks his hands around your waist making you giggle, your skin too responsive to his touch.

“Woman provides knowledge,” he caresses your hair, “Truth,” he whispers against your chest, “Life.” He moves to your lower belly, and gently kisses the skin, not taking his eyes off of you, “We’re incomplete without a woman.”

There’s no time to contemplate his words when he continues, “We come from a woman. We’re a part of a woman. No man can ever be without his other half.”. You caress his hair, wishing that was the case in real life, but his words seem too sweet to hold truth, even your non-reliable emotions see past it.

“Then why do you hurt women?” You don’t overthink the question, it’s something that has always been bugging your mind. Such high praise, yet so little truth. But if your words don’t ring an alarm bell for you, it does for him. He lifts his head from your stomach and shoots you an unsure gaze.

“We don’t.”

“But what if you do?” You don’t mean to challenge him; no animosity clouds your words, but you’re truly curious of the way their brains work. Seeing you not drop the subject Jungkook scoots closer to you, and you hold his cheeks and send him a smile.

You watch in curiosity when he brings his finger to his lips, and sharply bites down; you’re about to question his actions but you’re left dumbfounded when he drags his bleeding finger across your forehead.

His blood marks your skin, but his actions don’t stop; he takes your hand in his own, and softly kisses your index finger before breaking the skin with his teeth. He’s noticeably gentler than when he bit his own, but your still let out a hiss from the sharp feeling.

He traces your bleeding finger across his own forehead, now both of you marked in each other’s blood before he carefully places it in his mouth to stop further bleeding. His eyes scan your mark in satisfaction, as if just proven a point, and your fuzzy brain works overtime to understand what just happened.

“No being can live without half of their soul. If you hurt it, you go along with it. Death.” His tone is serious, and your brain scrambles to form any eligible meaning behind them, but it’s hard to focus when his lips travel to your lower belly, slow with his actions, yet ever so persistent.

He shows his beliefs through his actions, and your back arches once again when his wet muscle traces your most sensitive part in gentle, but firm patterns. Day turns into night, and time into blur when all you can hold onto is passion drowning you deeper and deeper in its reigns.

For the first time you experience the meaning of love in its truest form; no laws or calculated motives color it in tantalized obligations. Even if it’s taken from you tomorrow, you know it has engraved itself in the depths of your soul; you know you’ll spend forever trying to find someone who’ll manage to fill even half of your desires like Jungkook could. Someone who’ll manage to show you love even half as passionate and true like he has.

But for now, you’ll enjoy the fleeting moment, and dive deep into the pits that is Jungkook, letting him caress your every curve, and kiss your imperfections like the treasure gold. Because it is just that, nothing less than a treasure you spend your whole life searching for.

You’ll allow him to love you like no other, hold you close like the other part of him, because even if it’s just for today, he is that to you, he is the one who kisses your scars and melts your fears. He is the one, you’ll be longing after your whole life. But that’s okay, because his arms are the first to protect you from winters frost and throwing spears, he is the one you’ll have to leave for your long last fears.

~

Never before have you awakened so refreshed. As if every part of your body, every nerve and muscle, has had a restart. The sound of birds chirping makes you open your eyes, your still half-asleep mind trying to understand what’s happening. You stretch in the make-shift bed, covered in furs and wool, warmth surrounds your body and light floods in through the cracks in the wooden walls.

You prop yourself up on elbows, it takes you a minute to understand where you’re located, but when you do, and your mind is clear enough for some understanding to flood in, you freeze in shock. Quickly you look around, and relieved breath out realizing you’re the only one in the make-shift house.

You plop back onto the bed and drag your hands over your face; you’re not sure how to feel about everything that transpired, the thought alone of everyone seeing you and Jungkook making out horrifies you. Taehyung saw you. He will never let you live it down.

You groan in embarrassment; you’ve utterly failed in your position as oldest sister. And you know you can’t blame it all on the drink either, after all, Jungkook did say it shows one’s inner desires, not make you act like a hormonal teenager.

In the depths of your self-wallowing, you come to an even more embarrassing conclusion – you don’t regret it. It’s hard to when your mind takes you back to his gentle caresses and sweet nothings. Your cheeks heat up remembering previous nights events. If they even were previous nights events? Through your still slightly foggy mind you recall seeing light flooding in and out.

But you do know one thing, whatever it was, was a one-time thing, and you need to leave before he comes back and the embarrassment spirals. You don’t know how you can face him; you know you’ll be awkward, and after all you weren’t the only who drank the questionable liquid, he must feel just as embarrassed as you do.

In hurry, you get up, and when you stand, you notice leaves wrapped around your previously hurt foot; your heart squeezes at the thoughtful gesture, which only further shows how much you need to leave. Now.

But that turns out to be harder than hoped to be – your clothes are nowhere in sight, so you grab a cloth hanging besides the bed, and do your best to wrap it around your body. You’re not sure how they wear it day-to-day, when you feel like one wrong move will make it fall. But then again, that’s just another example of how much you don’t belong here.

You notice a bowl of food besides the bed, carefully you touch it to see it’s still warm; that’s good, he must’ve left not so long ago. It’s hard to pint-point him as someone you should avoid when all of his actions are so caring.

It’s shame that drives you to escape his space, careful, going down the stairs, as your mind works slower than it usually does. Most of all you’re shocked by your own actions, never had you thought you’d fall victim to your desires, never had you known those sorts of desires even where part of your mind. But it does leave one question lingering, how well do you even know yourself, if you, without all the societies pressures and life’s barriers, are a stranger to yourself?

You try to rid all the unnecessary thoughts, focusing on finding your brother so you could finally leave. It’s a bittersweet goodbye when the place has thought you more about love than your whole life, but you don’t recognize yourself here, and that’s a too horrid thought to live with.

You look around the habitable, you were too out of it to notice where Jungkook led you, and this place is far too big for you to manage and find one person. Makeshift houses sit one by another, people following their daily regimes. You’re wandering around, trying to find at least one person you recognize, but the angel overlooking you has chosen to arise, when you notice the sweet woman who talked to you.

“Hi!” you call out for her; she’s talking to a slightly older woman, both standing in front of what seems to be a large water storage. She looks at you and recognition flash her eyes, and you breath out what could’ve been another awkward situation.

Your rush closer to her, but the closer you come to them, their actions stop, and they focus on your appearance, or more like, your forehead. Self-conscious you drag your fingers through your hair, you’re sure you look crazy, just woken up, hair all over the place and eyes blurry from your tumbling mind.

But they don’t look disgruntled, rather shocked, which turn to utmost happiness when you stop besides them, and they take a good look at you. You’re confused when she lightly hits the others woman’s shoulders, all while not taking her gaze off you.

“Have you seen my brother? Tae?” You look at her, hoping to gain some sort of information, but her unbreaking ‘deer caught in headlights’ gaze makes you awkwardly shuffle from one foot to another.

Their gazes meet and they fall into fits of laughter, she puts her hand over her mouth concealing a disbelief laugh but the other woman isn’t bothered to conceal her happiness, she puts her hands to the sky and chants something in her tongue.

You look confused at the woman you recognized, hoping she sees your lost appearance, but she takes a step closer to you, and you do your best to not flinch away when she drags her fingers over your forehead, light enough to barely feel.

You go to touch it yourself, but the chorus of simultaneous “No’s,” makes you stop in an instant. But you know it must be something about your forehead, their gazes haven’t left it for a second. Perplexed you move closer to the water storage and look at your reflection; to your utmost dismay, you notice on what they’re so focused on.

Instantly you dip your finger in water, embarrassed they saw Jungkooks dried blood marking your forehead. The little detail completely lost in the turbulence of previous events, all feeling like a fever-dream.

Just when water touches the mark, your hands are tightly gripped away from your skin. “No! What are you doing?” her alarmed gaze make you feel as though you’ve done something wrong, what you’re not sure.

The other woman rushes to check whether the mark got washed, but by the relief on her face you gather it had not. “Go. Jungkook.” She points back to his house, urging you to go back. “I have to find my brother.” Your stubbornness leaves them uneasy, but you press on it, and turn to the woman you recognize.

“I have to find him.” You try to convince her, “Jungkook isn’t even there! And I need to check if Tae’s alright.” You try to conceal your frustration at her doubtful gaze, not sure what’s the deal with going back to Jungkook.

She presses her lips, but finally gives in, “There,” she points to left, “He by the animals.”, grateful you quickly nod head, grateful to finally escape the awkward situation, but you guess one has to pay for their actions.

“Be quick.” She presses, and unexpectedly pulls you into her arms. Her touch is very comforting, the only problem being you don’t know what’s happening. The older woman comes to pat your head, and you see the gleam of happiness color her eyes.

A bit awkward you smile, this whole situation too confusing for your hazy mind. You nod your head, and with that, take off. You know for a fact you’ll grab your brother and leave, too embarrassed to see Jungkook like they press you to. But her words turn to be harder than hoped to, when you realize just how big their space is.

You’ve been tumbling around for at least 10 minutes, and the lingering gazes from everyone around you don’t help to ease your mind. You’re wondering whether you’re going in the wrong direction all together, but sigh in relief when animal pens come into view.

You had severely underestimated size of the tribe, their camp so vast you’ve been floundering around for a while, yet you still don’t see the end of it. You’re relieved noting how less people surround the animals, at least you don’t have to fight the urge to run from their intruding stares.

Even the animal enclosures are extensive, with slight pity you note how something similar to a clothing rack faces their pens, only instead of hanged clothes there’s different textures and lengths of hair. Unbeknownst to them, they face their unavoidable future, danger hanging in front of their eyes, and yet they wholeheartedly ignore it. One tuft of hair catches your eye, blonde, long hair flutters in the wind, and you're not sure what animal it belongs to, probably a horse, whichever it is, you choose to ignore it, and try to convince yourself that’s their destined future.

You go into a clearing, another set of stools surrounding what used to be a bonfire, something akin to the one you were at previously. And sitting on one of the stools is none other than your brother, chit-chatting with the same women he did the last time you saw him.

Relief floods through your system, grateful to see him alive and well. The whole idea of you being separated in an unknown place left you uneasy, even more so considering both of your injuries. But he looks well, smiling, red flush coloring his cheeks. No sign of the previous dark bruises and pale skin.

You’re about to shout his name when a weird beeping sound comes from your left. You almost ignore it, till you remember – you’re in a tribe. And the noise is awfully familiar to a technical device.

Your turn where you guess the sound is located to see a shed; reed roof covering it’s belonging from rain. You wonder whether you should go in and check, but the persistent noise comes once more, drawing you in.

With one last glance to your brother, you move to the shed, having an inkling feeling you shouldn’t be doing this, you feel like a fraud, overstepping some unknown laws. You look around to check no ones noticed you, and sneak in.

Light barely shines through the massive roof, you’ve to get used to the dim lighting to even understand what you’re surrounded by. But when you do, you see a table right in front of you, and on it, yours and Taes phones.

You forgot that they took your belonging from you, and you take your phone in your hands, noting how it’s more damaged than you thought, screen completely broken and to your disappointment – it won’t even turn on.

You glide your fingers over the screen, small shards of glass digging into your skin. Perhaps the battery ran out, but you were sure it worked the last time you used it. The same pinging sound comes from your left, the dark environment lit up for a second.

You turn around and freeze, considering the sight in front of you before light dims out. Phones stacked in columns rest on a table, one phone in particular hangs on its last thread, notifications of almost ran out battery lighting screen.

The sight leaves your mind fumbling, are you not the first ones they saved? Or have some tourists lost their phones and they just found them? You hope it’s the second option, you can’t see how a person would leave their phone willingly.

Doubts run through your mind when the phone tings once more, and you notice a dark, dried substance covering its upper screen. You grab the phone and press on the screen, battery has almost run out, hanging onto its last 5%.

But 5% is better than nothing. You swipe the screen, thankful for the lack of password and tilt your head in wonder when it opens to camera mode. Perhaps it’s overstepping the persons privacy, but your curiosity is spiked when the small square on the left bottom corner shows recent photos, that being of deep forest green.

It’s not right, you know it’s not right, but you still press on it. Video starts playing automatically, harsh words and screaming fills the otherwise quiet space. Startled, you pause the video and check whether someone heard you, but after a moment of silence, you turn the volume down and press play.

At first, you’re not sure what you’re looking at, the persons hands are shaking so heavily, it’s hard to pinpoint the scene. But you see knife in their hand, pointing it to someone in front, screaming. A man stands close to her and aims a gun in the same direction.

Video picks up in speed when tones increase, and words become harsher. In matter of a second, the gun is fired off, and the man is tackled to the ground. Whoever is filming cries in shock, before they swipe their knife forwards.

But it doesn’t go well, as the same second someone lunges their way, and throws them on the ground. The background is unfocused, but you see the man’s head being bashed with stone. Screaming increases in volume when the phone drops and for the first time you see the person who’s filming.

A blonde woman flails her hands around, crying, trying to get away from her attacker. But her screams are silenced when the same knife she threw is dragged across her throat. Blood splutters from her lips and the attacker lets her go.

You feel her fears like your own, when her hand reaches for her phones, and she tries to crawl away with no success. Her hands give out, and she falls under her weight, the video ends of her shiny, blonde hair drowning in blood.

It takes a second for everything to sink in, and when it does, overwhelming panic drowns you. Video wasn’t long, less than 30 seconds, but you play it again, frame by frame, trying to find anything that rebuttals your suspicion.

But to your dismay, one familiar tone of voice makes you replay it over and over again, till you find one snapshot, less than a second long, of blurry figures of their attackers. You know you can’t deny it when you capture the familiar leather clothing, and even more so, when you see a braid hanging over her attacker’s chest.

You notice another detail, when the woman tries to crawl away, a clearer picture of him appears and your stomach churns when you see him spitting on her in disgust. You know her attacker. You could recognize him any day.

Only now you don’t want to, and you try to lie to yourself and say you’ve never seen those deep mahogany eyes. Which, in part is true, his gaze brings you comfort, and peace, feeling of protection and love. But the eyes you’re staring at are nothing less than feral, deep rooted superiority and untamed rage.

It’s Jungkook.

You clutch the phone tighter when you notice another thing. Something that might save you. The single fluttering service line. You don’t waste a second calling for help, begging the line to go through. You’re scared to move, knowing how a single step might cut off the service.

But it goes through. When the line is answered you know you’re fighting against all odds, “Please help. We’re stranded in jungle, in a tribe. They kill people-” you ramble on, voice shaky, and tears falling uncontrollably. You hope you named the pathway Tae chose right, you weren’t too focused on details, and now, you hope it’s not your pitfall, “We’re going to be next, please help us!”

Person on the other side tries to speak, but their voice cuts off after every word, “Can you hear me?”, you cry out, but the line goes silent, and the battery has run out. You try to be silent, but it’s hard to conceal your cries when you realize the danger you’re facing.

You look at all the stacked phones, knowing, your ones will soon follow if you don’t get out now. There are easily hundreds of them, both the newest models, but also, ones you don’t recognize. You fear to imagine how many they’ve killed.

You run out of shed, the only thing on your mind to find your brother and get out, your gaze finds the animal pens, or rather what’s in front of them. The woman’s blond hair tainted in blood flashes through your mind. Those aren’t animal hairs, are they?

“Bee!” you hear Taes voice and quickly turn around, he’s smiling and beckoning you to come towards him. You sniffle your tears back, noticing the woman besides him watching you carefully, and put on a smile, they can’t know that you know.

You rush to him, smiling as widely as possible and ignore his snickering, “Well, well, what were you up to?” his boxy grin greets you, and you try to hold in your tears of terror, “Can we talk?” you look back at the woman and shoot her your best grin, “Alone.” You quietly force the words out, hoping only he hears the urgency behind them.

“Um, sure...?” he looks back at the woman, who hasn’t taken he eyes off of you. You hope it’s the stupid mark on your forehead, and not you acting strange. You tightly grip his hand and pull him away, hoping your steps don’t look too rushed.

“Is everything alright?” his concerned voice makes your tears resurface, only when you’re sure there’s no one listening in on you conversation, you stop behind a house, and face him, “We need to leave. Now. You were right, we’re not safe here.”

“Wait, what?” your rushed words leave him lost, confused by your sudden change of heart, “I saw a video. Video of them killing people. We’re going to be next, Tae, we have to leave.” His face falls at your teary eyes, and trembling voice. “Shit.”

“I don’t have the time to explain, but we need to leave.” He nods his head in understanding, you know you don’t have a lot of time, based on everyone urging you to go back to Jungkooks house, you know he’ll be searching for you, and considering that was a while ago – you have to hurry.

“What’s that?” his gaze moves to your forehead, and you shrug your shoulders clueless, “Jungkook marked me. I don’t know what that means. Perhaps I’m the first one they’ll finish off.” You cry out, and Tae looks conflicted, “He found me before they went off hunting. Dunno what that was about but he put his hands on my shoulders and said welcome. Thought it was him apologizing for being a dick couple nights ago, but now-”

“So, they are in the forest now?” he nods his head, “Do you know from which side they went off?” your mind is spiraling, forest is their home, and if you want to have any possibility of escaping alive, you have to gain at least some sort of leverage.

“Far off end, not here. There is a clearing close enough, not many of them walk there. That might be our best bet.” You nod along, taking in everything he says. He grabs your hand and pulls you forward to what you assume, is the said clearing.

You’re careful with your steps, looking around for any unwanted followers. Every step feels like a ticking time-bomb, but Tae is right, this side is less inhabited, couple lonesome houses in midst of evergreen trees.

You stop near the edge and share a knowing look; this is your only chance. Even though the risk of being lost in jungle is great, you haven’t eaten anything in days, feet bare and clothing less than ideal, there’s no choice but to proceed.

And just like that, you run. Your heart pounds aggressively in your chest, and feet hurt with every step, but fear keeps you going. You can’t stay here, you know you’ll be the next one, why exactly they haven’t finished you off yet is a mystery in itself, but you’re not willing to wait and find out.

You smell freedom when the habitat turns greener with each of your steps, and your steps quicken, Tae close behind you. But you underestimated the tribe, if they managed to seek after you like an animal, there’s no chance they’d leave you running around, free to go whenever you wanted.

You learn your lesson when the ground beneath you crumbles. One single misstep, and you’re falling. Tae barely manages to catch you, his hands wrap around your waist when you scream, his body almost falling with you.  

You watch in horror how the masked leaves fall one after the other like dominoes, and your gaze moves with them to see a steep ditch covering the entire area of the site, circling your only means of exit. A sharp sound like a whiplash follows soon after, and you realize you’ve run straight into a trap when the unmasked ditch has triggered a sturdy net to fall from the trees.

Wherever you turn your head, the trap follows, disturbing birds that fly high over your head away from danger. Oh, how you’d love to accompany them. Breathless, you grasp Taes’ hands around your waist, your only means of safety, holding you from falling to what might as well be your death.

“Shit”, he gasps in your ear, and you know you’re truly fucked when rushed steps and shouts near you. “What do we do now?” He balances you back on the ground, evident fear coloring his voice; as much as you’d love to step into the older sisters’ shoes and ease his mind, quickly figuring out a way to salvage the problem, you’re left speechless.

Even if you somehow manage to jump over the ditch, the net is too high to climb over and the netting too tough to tear. But there’s no time to think when you feel a sharp sting over your leg. Its force makes you fall on all fours, biting back a scream of pain you see a spear impaled on the other side of the ditch.

Fearful, you turn around to see a swarm of people surrounding you and your brother, another spear is thrown, but this time toward your brother, who barely manages to duck before it hits his body. Tears fall as you notice all the weapons pointed at you, and you’re just about ready to be impaled when a woman shrieks something in her tongue, and points at you.

It must be a sign to finish you off, you’re sure of it, you curl up awaiting the attack, but it never comes, rather you see the woman hit the man’s head who threw his spear at you. Your gaze quickly roams over the group, frightened by their relentless stares, but you notice one consistency – they’re pointing to your forehead.

You quickly touch it, confused about what’s happening, but when you do, a chorus of shouts come your way telling you to stop. And you realize what’s the hold-up, it’s the mark, Jungkooks blood smeared over your skin from yesterday.

As if he’s summoned, he runs through the crowd of people with a group of men following closely behind him. His gaze instantly meets yours, and you see the shock traveling through his system as he takes in your bleeding skin and terrified expression.

Just like a switch being flipped, he steps into his domineering aura; even though you’re away from him, you feel the energy of his anger like a shock wave crashing over you, the sparkling eyes and gentle touch which you oh, so adored nowhere present.

Overwhelmed with rage Jungkook turns to his people and barks something in their tongue, the tone of his voice makes you cover and for the first time, you’re glad you don’t understand what he’s saying.

You see the man who shot you fall to his knees, head deeply bowed down and hands put into a praying position. You don’t have to understand their language to know he’s begging, but his prayers aren’t answered when he’s forced to stand up. And in a blink of an eye, his neck is snapped.

What you wouldn't be willing to do, to return to yesterday when everything was so sweet you were bracing yourself for a toothache. But just as you feared, the shoe had to drop, only you didn’t expect the price to be your life.

The feral glint in Jungkooks eyes brings you back to the video, whatever dream you were living in these past days is broken, the man who once brought you comfort now terrifies you, but worse of all – you have nowhere to go, stuck with him, waiting for your demise.

You use the chaos around you and turn to Tae, whose eyes haven’t left the unmoving man’s body, “We have to run,” you whisper in a trembling voice, you’ve no plan, the only option is to hide, but even that’s farfetched – this is their home, they know every nook of it.

“Can you?” you look at your bleeding leg, the injury hurts as it is, but you refuse to gift them your life without a fight. You turn back to Tae and slowly nod your head, unsure of the answer yourself.

Careful to not attract any attention, you shuffle to your left, but your movement is caught instantly, “Don’t.” Jungkooks baritone voice freezes your body. You know he’s speaking to you, but you’re lost how he even noted the movement; his back is turned to you, his hand raised in your direction. Their sense of movement would be remarkable if you weren’t fighting for your life.

He turns around and faces you, and slowly starts walking towards you. But the closer he is, the more danger you’re facing, so you do your best to make him stop, “We will leave now. Thank you for your help, but it’s time for us to go.”

You try to sound confident, but that turns out hard under his untamed gaze. For a second it works, he stops in his tracks and overthinks your words, but when his jaw ticks and steps fasten, you know you’ve only made it worse.

“Leave? You’re hurt.” He kneels down besides you, and you can’t stop your body from flinching when his hands inspect your wound. “I will find help, but now, we must leave.” You repeat your words, careful to keep your voice down as to not aggravate him more.

But it seems no matter what you do, it only serves to tick him, “No.” his tone leaves no room for objection, and his hold tightens around your leg. “You’re marked. You’re one of us now. Why would you even want to leave, when I can offer you what I know you long for.” He cups your cheeks and tries to smile, but the untamed flames haven’t subsided in his eyes, and his smile looks more like a grimace.

“Safety, protection, love.” He pulls you closer when he mutters the last word, trying to awaken the memories of his soft touch the night before, but all your mind manages to make up is the vast cruelty with which he drove the knife over the woman’s neck, how easy it was for him to kill the man just now. You’re repulsed by his touch.

You know you shouldn’t, but you can’t stop yourself from whispering the terrifying truth, “You kill people, Jungkook.”.

His eyebrows furrow at your words, and almost as if he’s offended, he points to the unmoving body behind, “Him? He hurt you. He hurt a woman – he hurt his leaders’ woman-” he presses, but you don’t let him finish, “He’s not the only one.”

Thick silence enfolds, one neither of you want to break. You remind yourself you’re walking on eggshells, that he’s unstable and you have to keep your mouth shut, but somehow, the recent events feel like a betrayal of you and everything you hoped for; for once, your let down your guard, and now, you’ve to pay the price and fight for your life.

After a while in silence, Jungkook shakes his head, voice becoming more desperate “I don’t kill. I protect.”. What’s all the more terrifying is the conviction in his eyes, you know he’s spiraling, lied to himself enough times he has started to believe in it himself. But you know better, when the fake illusion drops, you don’t want to be the bearer of it all.

“Listen man, we better go. It was nice mee-” Tae cites your own words, but when his skin touches yours, the unsteady walls collapse and in one swing, Tae’s on the ground. Screech of terror escapes you, and you almost fall down the trench, if it weren’t for Jungkooks fast reflexes.

He takes his opportunity and pulls you closer to him, your body trembling out of fear, not taking your eyes off of your brother, who groans on the grass. He whispers sweet nothings in your ear, but all you can focus on is his vice grip locking you besides him.

“You don’t have to be scared any more. No one will hurt you, I’m here, it’s okay.” He shushes your cries, which only makes you cry harder. “I’ll make sure you never feel lonely again, I’ll be always right by your side.”

[dragon-curse-au]

Been thinking about different cookie species within the AU and their differences/similarities a bunch lately, so I figured I'd share some cool facts!

While humanoid is the most common appearance a cookie can take, there are several subspecies across Earthbread that take on more animalistic traits, some ranging from minor details such as pointed ears and fangs to being a full-on centaur. It's how modern day dragons blend in amongst cookies in their smaller forms, given that reptilian cookies like Carameleon exist.

Coffee cookies will be the most prominent ones you'll see in this AU and they share many traits with other cookie species, such as flower cookies and moon imps. They're relatively humanoid with cat-like features, such as large pointed ears, fur patches, paws, thin tails, and slitted pupils, though not many of them remain from the original tribe in the Dark Cacao Kingdom. In fact, the only coffee cookies that remain to this day happen to be hybrids. Espresso and Affogato are siblings and are part cream wolf, though they present more coffee cookie than cream wolf - Affogato having thicker fur than Espresso an easier tell. Prune Juice is also half coffee cookie, though his other half is Parfaedian, which gives him less animal traits than others.

Coffee cookies are well known for their expertise and prowess with their own unique form of magic, but Prune Juice was born with that trait dormant, marking him as a disappointment in his family's eyes. Prune Juice often tries to hide his coffee cookie traits so that others don't view him as a freak.

Every larger region of Earthbread has their own coffee-adjacent cookies. The most well-known are flower cookies, sphinx cookies, and moon imps. Flower cookies are more elf-like in appearance, lacking the fur that coffee cookies have save for the tufts along their jawlines and their tails. Sphinx cookies are the most feline of all, though the only surviving members are Golden Cheese and her daughter, Rich Cheese. Moon imps are also unfortunately nearly completely extinct save for Shadow/Blueberry Milk and Eclipse Wizard. Moon imps used to occupy the City of Wizards and southern Beast Yeast, though evolution either snuffed them out of existence or caused them to evolve into something else.

Moon imps are relatively unique with their digitgrade hooved feet, barbed tails, and pointed ears. Most have horns as well, but there are a few who do not. Their primary flavor is blueberries, though the ones that occupy southern Beast Yeast have more milk in their dough than others.

I want to bring up Clotted Cream and Camellia since they're half flower cookie as well; Light Cream is vanillian while their father was a full-on flower cookie. Clotted Cream passes as purebred vanillian save for hair tufts on the jawline and tail, which he was raised to keep hidden under Elder Custard's orders and was told that they were mere genetic defects. No one can mistake his faint floral scent, however. Camellia is on the opposite end of the spectrum, presenting as a pure flower cookie.

Honorable creature-like cookies would be from the Licorice Tribe (aquatic traits), Spice Swarm (centaurs or almost entirely animal more than cookie), and whatever Mystic Flour is (insectoid).

If you have any questions feel free to ask! I like yapping about this stuff :]c

[picaroroboto]

I am struck by the sudden and intense urge to do a full analysis on the elements of anti-facism in FF14, but I don't really want to sit down and write a big ol' essay right now. But you do understand what I mean when I say it's not anti-facist just because the Garlean Empire, inspired by real-life facism, is a major antagonist you fight against - in fact, the story gains a lot when the Empire is not treated like an evil boogeyman. Showing depth and variety in Garlean characters, from the likes of Gaius, who wholeheartedly believes that Garlemald has to conquer the world to save it from itself, to people like Valens and arguably Zenos who use their power to satisfy their own desires, to ordinary people like Jullus who just go along with the ideas they were born into; giving them depth makes them more interesting to engage with as players and readers while also reminding us that facism isn't like, some sort of evil curse, it's a belief system (albeit a dangerous, cruel, illogical one) that is held by people - by humans who treat other humans as inhuman.

But FF14's biggest strength as an anti-facist story comes from the conflict with the Ancients - it's not a coincidence that Emet-Selch, leader of the Ascians, is also the founder of the facist Garlean Empire. This idea of returning to an idealized past (when not only is this process impossible, the past was never as good as anyone remembers it, or was only good for a minority of people) comes up a lot in facist ideology. Endwalker tears this down by not only hammering in Shadowbringers' thesis that you can never return to the past, it also shows us how the Ancient world was never really as perfect as Emet remembered it, thus strengthening our resolve to embrace the present.

Also, I'm no political scholar, but it seems to me that a lot of right-wing beliefs stem from a deep distrust of other people - for example, they might oppose police or justice reform because they genuinely think that fear of punishment is the only thing that keeps others from harming them. The importance of trusting others is a strong theme in FF14: the problems with the Beast Tribes and their Primals only begins to be solved when they turn from over-relying on their gods to trusting their fellow sentient beings instead. And, in the post-patches of every expac, the WoL helps the nations they've saved get back on their feet in a way that makes certain they'll stay stable when the WoL leaves for their next adventure - this is a system of trust too, showing that they trust the people they protect to solve their own problems from time to time.

I just think the way that FF14 doesn't just portray facists as stock enemies, but attacks the ideas that serve as the core of their beliefs, is really well done. *Note: while I discuss the resemblance between the Garlean Empire and real-life facism, I also understand that FF14 is fiction. I am not criticizing the writers for allowing Garlean characters to be sympathetic, nor am I attacking anyone for liking those characters.

[espionn]

NightWing tribe sheet!

hey guys, sorry this one took a little bit. nightwings have a lot going on. also, i talked about both the old night kingdom and the volcanic island, but i didn't really mention their new rainforest setup, bc i didn't want this to be *too* long. so sorry that there isnt anything regarding that lol

Physical Appearance + Traits

-NightWings are the only fully nocturnal tribe, going to sleep a bit after dawn and rising at sunset. Their colors are dark, not only making them invisible in the shadows but also letting them fly at night without standing out. The undersides of their wings are scattered with starlike scales and rich coloration that perfectly resembles a night sky. Their night vision is almost perfect, and their eyes flash in direct light not unlike nocturnal mammals like cats. 

-NightWing colors are usually mixed with green, blue, purple, or some combination of these. Some are nearly pitch black, and others are more gray. Their beaklike snout, horns, and spines are usually the same light silver as their scales, but sometimes these can be black too.

-Healthy NightWings are often somewhat large and even bulky, with thick tails and strong legs. After their retreat to the volcano, they were thought for some time to be scrawny and have a permanent dull roughness to their scales, but after a few generations in the rainforest they began to again be sleek and strong.

-The three moons are not only extremely important to NightWing culture and imagery, but also have a physical effect on them. Named Oracle, Perception, and Imperial, each full moon can grant a different ability. A NightWing hatched under a full Oracle will have limited prophecy abilities, and Perception will grant mind reading. Imperial added to either of these will make them stronger. The only thing that is still uncertain is whether Imperial alone has any effect. Some dragons insist it grants natural leadership abilities, but the only consistent observable effect it seems to have is a deep-rooted infatuation with the moons throughout the dragon’s life.

-Perception - mind reading - will also leave a silver teardrop-shaped scale in the corner of the dragon’s eyes. It will be reinforced with a silver circle beneath it if Imperial’s strength is applied. Oracle’s mark is more subtle, but seers’ eyes themselves will often be strikingly silver, and some have noted more clear constellations present in their wings.

-The strength of the power can often depend on how directly the dragonet was exposed to the light.

-The pattern of stars in the wings of NightWings are as unique as a human’s fingerprint. Sometimes, though, they resemble real constellations, and even when they don’t, there are seers who claim to be able to read a dragon’s fortune in their wings, similar to palm readers or even Zodiac theorists. Superstitious parents may have the wings of their dragonets analyzed by these seers. It’s very rare, but on occasion a dragon may be hatched with large, bright patches of clustered star scales, and these dragons are not only considered extremely attractive and desirable, but also may be said to be blessed by the stars themselves. 

-Albino NightWings are extremely rare, but they are practically worshipped. One factor in the bad blood between NightWings and IceWings was the feeling from NightWings that IceWings’ pale coloration was a crude mimicry of the moons, and therefore impure and insulting.

Life Cycle:

-NightWing eggs are laid in small clutches, usually between two and four. They incubate on secure clifftops, carefully watched by parents, for 3-4 months, and hatch quite physically defenseless. They take longer to learn to walk and fly than any other tribe (with the exception of SeaWings, of course). NightWings believe this is a sign of superior intelligence, as their development goes to their minds first and their bodies second; it is, in fact, true that NightWings learn to speak and even read quite early compared to other tribes.

-NightWings live with their parents and siblings in family units. It isn’t uncommon for homes to be multi-generational, with grandparents or even great-grandparents to live in the same place as their descendents, as some dragons simply never choose to leave their unit. They also sometimes live with friends and other relatives. Some also choose to live alone.

-Despite how many NightWings sometimes choose to live together, they are actually not very socially dependent dragons. Some are more social than others, but much of their lives and work will be spent on their own, even though they live and sleep with other dragons. They are self-motivated and many are quiet and disinterested in conversation. They also tend to lean toward making friends outside their families rather than having the same parent and sibling bonds that some other tribes have. 

-Dragonets spend much of their time, for several years, in school. NightWing schooling is very organized and thorough, and every dragonet is expected to attend. The vast majority of their socialization while they’re young is done in school.

Society + Culture:

-Even more so than SeaWings, NightWings have thousands of years of literature that they take enormous pride in; the main reason for their education system at all is their need to teach about their history and writings. Poetry and orchestral music are inventions of the Night kingdom, and they are beloved within the tribe. Their technology is on par with SkyWings, but instead of weaponry and armor, their focuses are on instruments, glasswork and even some scientific tools. 

-Their society doesn’t rely much on rank and structure; some dragons may have higher status, usually based on wealth, but NightWings don’t have distinct ‘high-status’ and ‘low-status’ groups like other tribes might. They are valued based on ability and intelligence, and not so much by birthright. Mindreaders and seers are usually well-known and well-respected, though there is a subtle jealousy pointed toward them throughout their lives as a result. 

-There was a time when NightWings would intentionally try to lay eggs that would hatch on full moons, especially double moons, hoping to have powerful offspring. However, many myths state that these dragonets would be cursed, and their gifts would somehow backfire; in these stories they often died, young and tragically. This practice was later discouraged and even considered taboo. 

-This hasn’t stopped some morally ambiguous experiments from being carried out. Eggs about to hatch have been intentionally exposed to meteor showers, eclipses, blue moons, harvest moons, northern lights, and a number of other phenomena with the hopes of finding some new and mysterious powers. The records of the results have been lost to time.

-Architecture is another particular piece of pride for NightWings, and while the Night Kingdom still stood, it was a marvel to any dragons who visited. Their structures - schools, homes, even the kingdom - were carved directly out of the cliffs of their jagged land, and then carefully and lovingly sculpted over time; pillars and statues and high-vaulted ceilings with intricate detailing are almost reminiscent of ancient Rome. 

-Even before their retreat to the volcanic island, NightWings were not very involved in the conflicts between other tribes. They were perfectly content in their region, and tended to think other tribes didn’t have much worth seeing anyway. Because they don’t usually bother themselves with fights like this, when they aren’t hunting, they tend to spend their time on things like art, writing, astronomy, and music, as these are highly valued in their society. Those who weren’t interested in these areas could also do limited military work, construction work, or work in service of their royalty as guards, hunters or servants.

-Once they lived on the island, though, survival trumped anything else. Food was scarce to non-existent, they lost the majority of their craft and literature, and some died outright from smoke inhalation toward the beginning. They carved rough tunnels into the cliffs with their own claws. They became hardier, but much less advanced. They also lost all knowledge regarding the stars and moons, including that of their own powers.

Diet: 

Old Kingdom: Omnivorous. NightWings could make a wide variety of food and drinks, usually eating small animals, fruits and vegetables that they could grow or trade, and even some mushrooms. They had no qualms about eating them raw without preparation, if they just needed a quick meal, but they could mix and cook food to make a variety of meals.

Island: Carnivorous. They eat anything they can find, and rarely bother to do anything beyond cooking it, if even that. Very few plants grow on the volcano, and only the most desperately hungry dragons will eat it. 

[guardian-of-da-gay]

Read on Ao3

For Whumptober 2024 Prompt(s) 4: Hypnosis, Hallucinations, "You're still alive in my head"

tw for mind control, hurt no comfort

When Sonic heard that G.U.N. needed help facing a ‘necromancer’ with a ‘zombie horde’ at his beck and call, his first reaction was: ‘Are these contagious zombies?’  Upon finding out they weren’t, his second reaction was ‘That sounds awesome!’.  Like yeah, fighting zombies, like fighting robots, wasn’t what he wanted to be doing.  But as long as he had to fight some bad guys, might as well have them be guilt-free, disposable baddies so you can feel even more awesome when you kick their butts.  But also… fighting a zombie horde just sounded cool!

Or at least that’s what Sonic thought when he ditched the evacuation effort with Knuckles.  Then he actually saw them.

He’d expected the dirty fur and patches of bone shining under shriveled skin.  Wasn’t too surprised to see their eye sockets glowing a sickly green.  He wasn’t expecting their threadbare clothes to be colored leather.  Their stringy hair to be frayed dreads.  The masks carved like owl skulls that had haunted his dreams since he was a kid.

Sonic bolted.

He was miles away before he was able to process:

Those had been echidna corpses.

Knuckles wasn’t with him.

Sonic had left him behind.

Maybe if he hadn’t, things would have been different.  Maybe Knuckles wouldn’t have joined forces with the necromancer.  Sorry, maybe ‘Enerjak’ wouldn’t have joined forces with the necromancer, since that was the lame new name he was trying to make happen.

He’d thought he’d known Knuckles.  Thought the ‘sacred vow’ Knuckles made to protect their planet was something he took seriously.  Thought their new tribe meant more to him.  But maybe it was less that his new tribe didn’t mean much to Knuckles, maybe his old tribe just meant more, even if there was just one freaky psychopath left.

Sonic had never laid eyes on the necromancer himself, but he had it on good authority (G.U.N.’s) that he was an echidna.  An albino one.  Apparently he’d chosen to embrace the ‘evil albino’ stereotype and raise an army of dead echidna.  And somehow Knuckles was not only cool with this, but seemed to be having the time of his life destroying everything in his path with his little corpse soldiers in tow.

All the Wachowskis (plus Wade) seemed to have a theory for why Knuckles would reappear as the hordes’ flagship warrior.  Some were more charitable than others, varying from ‘he’s been tricked’ to mind control/hypnotism/possession to ‘he doesn’t want to be on the side of the guys blasting his people’s bodies with bazookas’ to ‘the echidnas have always done dubious things so why shouldn’t Knuckles too?’.  That last one was Tails’ theory.  Some days, after a really hard fight, Sonic found himself agreeing.

They never say it out loud, but Sonic was sure they’d all considered the fact that the necromancer controlled dead people.  Knuckles’ pupils glowed the same green as the other echidna’s empty eye sockets.  And none of them had gotten close enough to get his pulse.  But that option was unthinkable.  Plus Knuckles didn’t act the same as the zombies.

While the blank-faced corpses destroyed all in their path, Knuckles seemed to… enjoy himself.  The zombies never spoke, but Knuckles did.  He’d laugh or yell or bark orders to the horde like he was really their leader.  Sonic had never been able to get Knuckles to talk to him though… At least, not until today.

“Feels like we’re getting into a bit of a routine now, huh Knux?”  Sonic dodged a flying fist.  “You and the freak legion go after people.  I try and stop you.  G.U.N. blows up a bunch of stuff to stop you.  We all go home tired.”  He tucked and rolled around to Knuckles’ blindspot and immediately ducked the wild swing that followed.  “Maybe we could spice things up a bit?  I propose a dance battle.”

Knuckles threw another punch.

Sonic dodged, keeping light on his feet.  He zipped around the next few swings, trying to keep up a steady stream of banter.  He was the fastest thing alive, but the goal today was to go slow.  G.U.N. was evacuating another neighboring town before the legion could reach it.  He had to keep Knuckles busy so the town was empty when Knuckles finally flattened it.

Because the crappy thing about a zombie horde was that no matter what you did to destroy them, they picked themselves up again.  And Sonic had kinda, sorta, never beat Knuckles in a fight.  They were playing defense right now.

And to make things even crappier: Knuckles fought differently now.  He hit harder.  Which Sonic didn’t think was possible.  Where before Knuckles put some control and thought into how much force was behind his punches, now it was like he threw everything he had into each one.  Sonic couldn’t afford to be hit even once now, because Knuckles was hitting to break rocks and Sonic was a lot squishier than that.

Knuckles was also a lot faster.  Not faster than Sonic, of course, but faster than before.  Apparently if he kicked off the ground harder, his strength would carry him faster and further.  The downside?  He trashed the ground every time.  Sonic knew he only had a limited window before the terrain would get hard to manage for both of them.  Then Knuckles would try and push the battle further away, closer to his target.  Sonic had to avoid that.  So even though he didn’t really want to talk to Knuckles, he said anything he could think of to try and distract him.

“You know, it’s funny how it’s always you and never that other guy,” Sonic said.  “The creepy white echidna?  Whatsisname.  Where’s he at?  Why’s he always sending you out like his personal servant boy?”

“I am no servant!”

Sonic was so surprised to hear him talk, he nearly lost his footing.  Knuckles’ next swing almost connected.  The wind was strong enough to throw Sonic off balance and he had to use his speed just to keep his feet.  “Could have fooled me!”  He stalled.  “Isn’t this just what Robotnik did?  Have you fight his battles so he could sneak around being evil?”

“Finitevus is not evil!”

Sonic dodged the next swing but landed on unstable ground.  He had to put on a burst of speed to get away before it could collapse.  “I beg to differ,” he said once he had solid footing.  “Look what he’s done to your people!”

Knuckles blasted forward, throwing up a huge cloud of earth and dust behind him.  He shot ahead of Sonic, feet digging trenches into the dirt to stop himself.  “He brought my people back!”

Cue the zombie horde.  A group of them dropped from the trees, surrounding them.

Sonic’s first instinct was still to bolt when he saw those masks.  He was getting better at making it a productive flight instinct though!  Case in point: when a group of them dropped from the trees to surround him, he immediately went fast enough that time seemed to slow.  He ran over the nearest one, breaking through their line and into the surrounding forest.

Time caught up with him when he’d put enough distance between them that he didn’t feel like he was going to have a heart attack.  His earpiece crackled and he heard Tails’ voice:

“Sonic, we finished evacuating the town.  G.U.N is just clearing out now.  Can you hold him a few more minutes?”

Sonic pressed one finger to the earpiece.  “Got it,” he said.  More echidnas appeared out of the woods.  The legion was getting closer.  Soon there’d be way more than Sonic could handle.  “Tell Commander Walters to hurry up!”

“Do you need me to come back you up?”

“I’m fine–”

Knuckles tackled him to the ground.  Crap, crap, crap!  Sonic got to see that sneer he’d grown to despise up close.  “Who is a the servant here?”  He asked, raising his fist.

“We have more of a collaborative relationship.”  Sonic tried to squirm away, but Knuckles caught him by the ankle and pulled him back.  Sonic kicked him rapidfire and Knuckles was forced to back off or take it all on the face.  Sonic rolled onto his feet and put some space between them.

“G.U.N. and I just mutually agree that making the world safe is the best thing for everybody,” he tried to keep his tone nonchalant so Knuckles might not notice the slight breathlessness.

“Not everybody,” Knuckles snarled.  “Finitevus will make the world safe for us!”

Sonic snorted and looked around, trying to mask his unease as more of the undead soldiers appeared.  “Safe for who?  You’re the only one still here!”

Knuckles swung forward.  “Are you blind?  They’re right here!”

Sonic tucked into a ball and zipped away.  He unrolled in front of a walking corpse.  “Are you blind?”  The zombie swung a broken spear shaft and Sonic dodged.  “They’re dead!”

Knuckles blasted toward him, his power bursting off him in a violent, red wave.  “NO, THEY’RE NOT!”

The wave forced Sonic off his feet.  He tucked up again and unrolled several yards away.  Knuckles’ blast had even sent his army flying.

Knuckles tugged his fist free from the earth and lurched to his feet.  “Finitevus returned them to me so we could fight together!”

Sonic stared at him.  “Are… are you actually crazy?”

“I’m not crazy!”  Knuckles said, looking utterly deranged.  He ran at Sonic, but Sonic wasn’t really in a fighting headspace at the moment.

What the hell was going on?  Knuckles didn’t think these guys were dead?  “Okay then, I guess I’m just confused.”  Sonic dodged Knuckles’ first swing and darted behind a guy who was literally just a skeleton in armor.  “This guy?  Definitely dead.  There’s no coming back from ‘no skin or organs’.”

Skeleton Guy turned to attack.  Sonic knocked his head off, lip curled in disgust.  The rest of Skeleton Guy flailed, searching around for its head.

“I’ve had enough of your lies!”  Knuckles bowed over the skeleton to charge Sonic.

Sonic dodged Knuckles even as he watched the skeleton feel around for his skull.  “... Do they talk to you?”

“Talk!”  Knuckles yelled back.

Then he slowed to a stop.  The vicious expression Sonic had come to know and hate suddenly faltered.

“Talk?”  He said it like he didn’t understand the word.  He looked around at the legion, first one way, then the other.  For the first time since this all started, he seemed unsure.

The quills stood up on the back of Sonic’s neck.  What was happening?

“They can’t talk…” Knuckles breathed faster.   “They… they were hurt so badly.”  The glow in his pupils sputtered and he swayed slightly.

Sonic’s heart began to race.  Suddenly Wade’s mind control/hypnotism/possession theory didn’t feel so farfetch'd.  But if that was the case, how did he pull Knuckles out of it?  Talking about his people being dead seemed to have been some kind of trigger.  Which sucked, but Sonic was grasping at straws, so he went for it:  

“They died, Knuckles,” he said, watching Knuckles closely to gauge his reaction.  Knuckles waivered, looking around at the hoard like he was looking at them for the first time.  The glow in his eyes was sputtering like a candle in the wind.  “They can’t talk,” Sonic continued, “because they’re not really here.  He didn’t bring them back, he’s just using their bodies.”

“No!  Father–” Knuckles looked around, and there was a frantic edge to it now.  “Where…?  He’s not here–who are–I don’t–”  He took a step back.  “I don’t recognize any of you!”

Sonic stared.  This was like seeing the confused Mr. Krabs meme in real life.  It was actually horrifying!  He’d been saying Knuckles was being crazy since he came back all sadistic and psychotic but this was… this was like for real psychosis.  Knuckles was genuinely shocked to see the people with him weren’t his family.  They weren’t even alive.

“Knuckles?”  He asked, holding his hands out flat.  “Knux?”

“Father hasn’t spoken to me,” he said.  “Why wouldn’t he…?”  Knuckles scrunched his eyes closed and pressed a hand to his head.  His teeth clenched, pained.

If an undead horde could hold its breath, that’s what the echidna corpses around them were doing.  Sonic certainly was.  He dared to take a step forward, then another.  He hadn’t been within arms reach of Knuckles and felt safe for months.  He still didn’t feel safe now, but at least now he knew his brother was still in there.

“Knux…”  He reached out and oh-so-gently touched Knuckles’ shoulder. 

“No!”�� Knuckles jerked back, staggering.  “You’re lying!  You’re trying to trick me again!”  He clapped a hand to his head again.  He cringed from something Sonic could not see.  Blinking rapidly, he struggled to focus on Sonic in front of him.

Tails’ voice crackled into Sonic’s ear.  Everyone was clear, he could retreat now.  Sonic stayed put.

“I’m not trying to trick you,” he said.  “It’s that Finitevus guy who’s trying to trick you.”

“No,” Knuckles closed his eyes and jerked his head so hard his dreads swung.  The hand at his head balled into a fist.  He hit himself and Sonic had to suppress the urge to rush forward and stop him.

“I can trust Finitevus!”  Knuckles yelled.  “I can trust my people,” he said quietly.

Knuckles straightened, fists falling to his sides as he squared his stance.  He opened his eyes.  “I can trust myself…”

Sonic watched in horror as Knuckles’ pupils filled with green.

“I can trust my own eyes!”

[muffinlance]

scaled salvage: there are some... innocent misunderstandings between the earth kingdom and the southern water tribes about what an "information gathering" session with the prince entails - kutsaa is left to patch up the aftermath with a disturbingly calm zuko, bc if he interacts with a single earth kingdom representative he'll cause a diplomatic incident.

zuko isn't sure why everyone is so surpised or upset.

hakoda is quietly filing away the notion that zuko thought they *knew* what the earth kingdom was going to do and didn't try to fight back or refuse, to deal with at a later date.

“But…” the prince started. Again.

Hakoda stared him down, until he shut his mouth. “Just answer their questions, the same way you answered mine. Listen to them, behave for two hours, then you can come back to our ship.”

The prince didn’t agree, per se. But he let himself be marched across the gangplank, which was agreement enough.

“He’s convinced you’re going to break his hands,” Hakoda said, to Fong’s representative. A joke that was a warning. 

“He’s your prisoner, not ours,” the man said. “We can respect that.”

Hakoda nodded, once. “Try to get something out of him that we can use as proof of life. I’m pretty sure my crew could forge a more personal letter than the ones he’s been writing.”

“Of course,” Fong’s representative said, with a smile.

* * *

The prince was returned before dinner. He walked stiffly back aboard, and took up position behind Hakoda, like he wasn’t sure he was dismissed. 

“Your proof of life,” Fong’s representative said, handing Hakoda a strip of something black. “Thank you again. That tip about his hands came in very useful.”

It took until a long moment of staring to recognize the strip for what it was: dragon hide. He’d… never touched it fresh.

* * *

The kid didn’t say anything as Hakoda led him down to Healer Kustaa’s. 

He needed leading.

“Out,” Kustaa said, and closed the door.

* * *

There was the barest hint of a burn on Prince Zuko’s hand. The flame they’d used, to make him shift. The threat behind it, if he refused.

The skin had been sliced neatly from between his shoulder blades. It was… not a disabling wound, for a human.

Kustaa rigged up a kind of wrap, to keep the prince’s wings immobilized. And mandated that he spend at least half the day as a dragon, to aid with healing across both forms.

“Will it heal?” Hakoda asked.

“The scales on his face didn’t,” Kustaa said.

The black dragon spent a lot of time stretched out, unmoving, on a yard of the mainmast. The easiest he could climb to. Hakoda did not climb after him. 

* * *

“You knew they’d do this,” Hakoda said.

“You told them to.” 

He hadn’t known what he was asking for.

“Why would you let them?” Hakoda knew it wasn’t the right thing to say, that it wasn’t the prince’s fault that he’d been skinned, but he also knew that nothing on the Earth Kingdom ship had been lit on fire in the process and he couldn’t understand how those facts fit. 

“You said I had to listen to them,” Zuko said, “before I could come back.”

The prince had wanted to come back, even thinking that Hakoda had—

Of course he had. It was better than being sold to the Earth Kingdom. This ship was… it was safe, for him. The safest option he had right now. 

Being sent off to be deliberately hurt, then coming back to where they only hurt him accidentally: that was the prince’s idea of safety. 

…Hakoda hadn’t known what he was asking for. But he had a child aboard now, and it was time he figured out what that meant.

[adventuringblind]

Oscar Piastri Ghoulverse HC's

Oscar won the poll I put out, so now I am subjecting you to all the ideas that have been rolling around my head. I'll do a whole fic, eventually, but to give you an idea, I present you with this!

Specific scenarios are always welcome, and my inbox is open to questions!! If you want to make a request, it's an option on my request form, which you can find HERE!

I'm super excited to share this, and feedback is always appreciated! What do y'all want to see more of?

GORE, VIOLENCE, AND NSFW CONTENT BELOW THE CUT!!

IMAGES NOT MINE

Appearance

A trait amongst all ghouls is dark eyes. Docile, unhungry ghouls have iris' but they are hard to make out if you aren't staring at them from at least four inches away. Oscar's are golden, and you can't change my mind.

See images for horn and tail references

His tail, although it has sharp ends, is olldly soft to the touch. It's nice to cuddle with and be wrapped in. Soft tails are prone to getting matted, but Oscar hates anything to do with combs. It's a struggle to get him to his tail groomed.

Ghoul horns can range in neutral colors and shades. Oscar's are black. Some horns are scaley, where others are more bone like. Oscar's horns are bone material and shed away the out layers ever so often. Oscar's are ridged, but the flat surfaces are smooth.

Similar to Max's due to the Ao3 fic. I just haven't been able to picture him any other way.

All ghouls get pointed ears and sharp, elongated canines. Oscar has a wickedly sharp set of teeth that he takes pride in.

Abilities

Reminder that all ghouls have really strong senses and are incredibly strong.

Oscar's abilities lie in smell. He's in the select group of ghouls that can pick out individual scents and discover emotions with his nose.

It smells different for each ghoul.

Like sexual frustration smells like a he snorted a sour patch kid and sadness smells like bleach.

That being said, he reads people like an open book.

Heaven forbid you lie to this man... he will know.

The good thing is that he knows when someone you dislike is approaching and can warn you.

Mannerisms

His tail has a mind of its own and betrays his inner emotions that he doesn't show on his face.

Oscar will say he's fine and doesn't need affection, but his tail will refuse to let his partner go.

It you watch carefully enough, it will play charades to reveal what Oscar is truly thinking about.

He's doesn't like to hunt. He'd rather find food sources through morgues or ghouls that do hunt.

However, he's also not afraid of it if it's truly necessary. Especially if it's for his partner.

The tribe the drivers have created usually switches off on who is tasked with finding food. Some get it through trainers that are trying to help them, some have deals with hospitals and morgues, and other prefer to vigilante style that shit.

Oscar does all three. It usually depends on where they are and who he can get in touch with, if anyone. If he can't, then he'll opt to hunt. But that's a worst-case scenario.

He always goes for the throat and the chest. Something about eating a heart is alluring to him, and his tail makes it easy to get to them.

As a romantic partner

POSSESIVE

He is not afraid to admit that he likes people knowing that his partner is claimed.

Furthermore, it's a protective instinct. Oscar knows the dangers that are out there regardless of what species his mate is.

He'd prefer not to have a dead lover, thank you very much!

It doesn't help that ghouls are rather territorial of what's theirs. Oscar behaves, but you can FEEL him growling at people he doesn't want to get too close or he wants to get away.

To the outside world, he's perfectly smiley, and nobody would ever know. In private, he's attached. He just needs to he near you and smell that you are okay and he'll be fine.

Prefers to stay in with the tribe to do anything fun. It's easier when he gets to look like himself.

The most patient of people.

If his partner is a ghoul but hates the eating human dilemma, then he'll try to make it as normal as he can.

If they are fine eating but not gathering, say no more because Oscar will take care of it.

Because he can smell emotions, he is very attentive. He knows you're sick before you even do. He knows every emotion you're feeling and exactly how to respond.

He's a romantic at heart and wants his lover to feel safe and valued. He's willing to do whatever it takes to make that happen.

Sex!

Yes, sex with ghouls is it's own ordeal

They've got feral animalistic instincts.... tell me they aren't good at it

Humans are also naturally drawn to ghouls

Easily seduced

Which is good considering ghouls have these lovely phases where they get riled up with pent up energy and emotions from pretending to be human all the time.

It depends on the ghoul how often this happens.

Oscar's is, at the very least, going to explode twice a year.

He saves it all up and just loses it at some point.

That being said, he's had consistent sex but typically, it's set up by one of the older tribe members until he learns to do it himself.

Also, it should be noted that these phases are all sorts of intense emotions and not just sexual.

Oscar is doubly clingy and possessive and WILL NOT let his partner leave him if he can help it.

Good luck getting away until he's calmed down.

His tail makes a very good rope to hold a partner where he wants them.

If his partner is a ghoul, then you can expect intertwined tails all the time, including any kind of making love.

Biting... this is a thing for most ghouls, but I felt I should mention it. Oscar bites a lot. Especially a human mate because the amount of trust that would take is ridiculous. He'd never break that and wants to show that through his actions.

Plus... you taste like the most delicious god damn meal ever, and all he has to do is lick you to be satisfied.

If you try to feign arousal, he'll lose his shit. Don't lie to him about it because he'll spend hours figuring you out and leaving you a mess in the process.

Oscar is experimental, and let's be real here... the quiet and most unassuming of people are often the kinkiest beings.

He is open to everything as long as he's not actually eating you, and it's SANITARY. Maybe he'll draw blood from a human partner and bite down on the mating bite he's already put there, but he's not insane... he's not going to rip you open in any kind of dangerous fashion.

Unless his partner is a ghoul because that brings in new factors. If his partner likes hunting then they'd do it together and have probably fucked high on adrenaline and covered in blood. He will also pay special attention to a ghoul partners' horns since they are so sensitive. As in... he'll lick them. Maybe he'll use them as guides.

Giving him head? Best believe he's gripping his partners horns instead of their hair.

Depending on the mood, he will either growl or purr during sex. There is no in-between. Oscar is patent and always tame, but when his emotions do breakthrough, then it's an extreme. This is no different.

We're on the dom Oscar agenda for this blog, btw... (if you haven't noticed already).

He can and will man handle you if he's in a mood and you're not cooperating.

You can't really tease him because he'll just give it back worse later on when you're alone. You can certainly try, though! All you have to do is bite him on the clavicle (mating mark spot) and it'll drive him insane.

Why? Because he's possesive and love when the feeling is reciprocated.

[zarathelonewolf]

GACHIAKUTA 117 aka Horikoshi take notes because Follo is being a better side character than most of class A combined*

*excluding Bakugo and Todoroki but that's because the former is a rival/deuteragonist and the latter is an honorary deuteragonist/deuteragonist/I am Hella confused about narrative roles don't talk to me-

Ok, so.

I know this is veeeery early. But STILL.

You cannot do this shit to me Urana! Wtf!

I had the intention of not getting attached to everyone in fear that you would kill most of them off JJK style, but now I am incredibly attached to Follo as well!

Fuck!

Anyway, here are my thoughts on the chapter 117 and the Pain™ it brought me... Because both Follo and Rudo misunderstood each other and now my heart hurts.

Needless of me to say, the biggest surprise I got in this chapter is... not that Enjin is a ladies-man. I mean, with him saying that he "likes a good woman" especially if they're sexy and smarter than him, yeah, I imagined that he would be.

It's nice seeing more of Semiu being serious about the Cleaners' job. She's a tough one, and she's right, Rudo needs to get back to work.

Before I get on my Follo angst situation, I will say that though the misunderstanding between Rudo and Follo and Follo's grief for the loss of his hammer is easily my number 1 surprise, seeing Noerde and the Sileia tribe mentioned again intrigues me as well.

Noerde seems to have been known by Mildretta, who was also a Sileia, it seems... Or at the very least, Mildretta had heard of Noerde from somewhere. Also Mildretta's another tough woman. I was wondering when we'd see more of her and today I got my answer.

Now, unto Follo!

I am tempted to just dump this stuff in your face, but NO.

No. I will not. I must resist my urge to curl into a ball.

We know that Follo has been wanting to become a Giver this whole time. We can see clearly from his memories here that his goal and dream has been cast aside at best and insulted at worst.

His hammer was his chance. He had taken good care of it... Until he offered it to Rudo to break the chest.

Follo himself had made the proposal, but in the moment his hammer broke, he realized that he hadn't really been ready for the possibility of the hammer breaking.

This has probably been eating him up from the inside. His chance of becoming a Giver broke in front of him, and he has been feeling guilty because it's happened due to his own will of helping Rudo.

He wants to take pride in being a supporter. He really does. He thinks that being a supporter is just as important as being a Cleaner, but hasn't being a supporter who supports the Cleaners no matter what deprived him of his treasured hammer?

And also... Rudo has just rejected his offer of an undamaged uniform. This just rubs further salt into the wound.

A "supporter"? Can he even support the Cleaners right? Should he? He wants to be a Giver after all, and what happened due to his diligence to the cause just deprived him of his treasured item that was the key to his aspirations...

What is his place? He is feeling like he cannot be the hero of the story no matter what he does.

Rudo, on the other hand?

Guys, we're talking about "if it's broken, I will still use it until it's truly disintegrated and until then it's not trash" Rudo.

Of course he wouldn't want a new uniform. It got damaged? Not a big deal for him, he can patch it up, he doesn't mind, it's not like it's trash after all.

Nothing is trash to him.

He can't throw it away just because it's damaged.

Of course he said no to Follo's insistence.

And yet Follo probably doesn't understand. Maybe it's also due to the way they seem to have been raised, which is also the reason why I think it has been much harder so far for Follo to awaken a Jinki.

Rudo has had an empty hole inside of him for as long as he can remember, which was filled by his gloves. Follo doesn't really have the same characteristics of Rudo: his body and soul don't crave an object or someone to rely onto as much as Rudo's do. Follo does WANT a Jinki, but not with the same exasperation that makes up Rudo's heart's NEED for a Jinki.

Alternatively, Rudo's been shown as being more versatile, so to speak, compared to Follo. Rudo's soul craves the awakening of pretty much ALL he touches, at least potentially. He can awaken every object that has emotional energy stored inside of it as a Jinki.

Follo cannot do that, it's pretty clear to see. And when he is given a Jinki? Remember what happens? Zodyl may look creepy at times and very intense, but he's spot on when he says that people who try to use a Jinki when they are not the user of the Jinki themselves, or when they are not "empty" enough, they go mad. They are meeting despair derived from the object being away from what they consider a suitable friend, and they are overwhelmed with the feelings of the object. At least from what we can deduce.

"Emptiness" and "trauma", in short, make it much, much easier for someone to bring a Jinki into life. They make it easier for the person's and the Jinki's energies to join in order to reach a balance.

And while Follo's life has been riddled with struggle, I can clearly see that, it WILL take some more time before he gest his own Jinki. It's not that he has no chance of getting one, it's just that he does not have the same constitution as, say, Rudo or Amo or Zodyl, so it will be more difficult.

But maybe this will be the episode, this one misunderstanding, that transforms Follo into someone that an object may feel tempted to, so to speak, complete?

EDIT: ALSO Givers are Givers for their objects. That is to say, one shouldn't become a Giver BECAUSE that way they will gain approval for doing something because they're finally "special" enough to do that thing. Givers simply BECOME. They just BECOME their role, not for a purpose but because of the way they feel and interact with objects in their surroundings.

Again, Follo was probably close to becoming one. So close! He treasured the hammer and took care of it with perseverance. But he did it because otherwise people would be skeptical about him being in the Cleaners. He did it to prove a point... And not necessarily because HE loved the hammer, but because SOMEONE ELSE WHOM HE LOVED had the hammer (see the boy with the lighter hair that says he will become a Giver while holding the hammer? on the fourth page?) and a similar goal.

Follo is not fully living for himself.

[gentrychild]

If the ask game is still open: When Inko saw that the thief Takami was caught by Endeavor, she immediately went to look for her friend from the orphanage, Tomie.

1 - Tomie and Inko learned to sew together. The orphanage they were at wanted the children to acquire all the practical skills they could get and while every children learn to knit, Inko loved sewing and tailoring clothes while Tomie learned to embroider for fun. This is important because when the Takami thief was arrested, there was a patch of a very beautiful and very specific embroidery on his jacket. Since Tomie absolutely sucks at choosing romantic partners, Inko immediately realized that Tomie had moved in with a hitman. And not even a good one at that.

2 - She goes to the town where the Takami thief was found and wanders a bit until she finds Tomie and a five-year-old in the streets. Tomie tells her that her honey was arrested. The child is barefoot. Inko buys him Endeavor sneakers (they are cheap and good quality and he is incredibly happy about it) then brings everyone in her tiny apartment. Baby Keigo is the perfect roommate who cleans the apartment, catches birds and tries too cook them and Inko keeps telling him that no, it's not necessary. Tomie is not and Inko, fed up, tells her to GET A HOLD OF HERSELF. When Tomie asks her if Inko is going to kick her out if she doesn't, Inko tells her that no, she is going to kick Tomie's ass. Tomie 100% believes her, leaves, and she comes back in the evening, she announces that she had found a job and that she is going to pay half of the rent and some of the grocery bills now.

3 - Inko heavily suspects that Tomie's new job is absolutely not legal but she is poor and doesn't care much about illegality. It happens that Tomie is making a lot of money and she expects her to move out in the next week but Tomie is finding out what it's like to live with someone actually nice to her, is nice to her son, and let's be honest, Inko is an excellent cook. However, about a week later, some strange woman with a bullet wound in her stomach breaks into her home and passes out in Inko's bathroom. When the HPSC comes knocking to ask them if they have seen the awful sniper hero who killed the HPSC President, Inko throws a crocheted blanket over Kaina's limp form and lies through her teeth because she doesn't trust the government.

4 - They take a bigger apartment because Kaina also doesn't leave. Inko wonders if she is turning into one of those crazy cat ladies but with people technically on the run from the law. Tomie is still working as a very efficient look-out for criminals. Kaina isn't killing anyone lately but she acts as security detail for people who also work in the underworld. Inko has finished her studies but found out that there are more money to be made making reinforced clothes for the black market than hero costumes in the hero industry. Keigo is so happy that his mom is happy and that her aunts love him. (Aunt Inko even chased a HPSC recruiter with a slipper on two city blocks!)

5 - I will pass over the fact that Inko got a fling with a guy that turned out to be the boogeyman of the underworld, that Tomie and Kaina will never live it down and that Keigo cried the first time he saw Izuku because of how tiny and squishy he was. Instead, I am just going to say that their new neighbor moved in with her children in the apartment next door but her eldest accidentally burned the wall separating their homes down. At first, they put a curtain but soon, Himura Rei and her kids joined the little tribe.

[yuri-cocaine]

7.1 msq thoughts under the cut

before, when a dead person comes back to life we immediately think "ascians" but ascians are old news so im going to assume preservation is behind sphene being back

i also speculate that preservation's end goal has always been to convert everyone in alexandria into endless. they had two ways to do this.

plan A was to transfer the memories of the dead and re-create them in living memory. this did not work because we shut down living memory

so plan B is what the revived (?) sphene suggested at the end of 7.1: straight up kill everyone now and turn them into endless, forget waiting for them to die naturally. they only have enough aether to sustain 5000 ppl but im guessing in the coming patches this new nefarious sphene will gladly invade tulliyolal for more aether again

the evil imposter sphene is most likely an android recreation, and the memories of the true sphene is what's stumbling around living memory. the true sphene might have been turned into one of the new endless already, separated from the imposter so she can't interfere

preservation as a villain in the shadows is interesting because we've only seen two ppl from this organization, which were krile's parents. it's also worth noting that preservation wanted to experiment on krile because krile has the echo, and we know that the echo can allow someone to transcend death and continue to exist either as aetherial beings, like ardbert and co when they came to the source in 3.x patches, or just body snatch like zenos with his artificial echo.

i really hope we get to see who is still active in preservation and directly confront them, because if this is all a failsafe plan kicking into action after the shutdown of living memory i'll be pretty sad for sphene. she's once again helplessly running on the rails of malicious programming and being desecrated by mad scientists within her subjects

speaking of mad scientists, the new dungeon is so creepy jesus christ. opening the last door to see the giant glowing storm was breathtaking tho.

zoraal ja's research into transplating human memories and souls into tural vidraal is interesting and also supremely disturbing. in 7.2 we might actually fight a fucked up creature that has human sentience.

everything about alexandria is creepy and disturbing. this kingdom is a freak show dressed in garish ugly cyberpunk clothes.

i don't really have much to say about the rroneek side plot. it's nice that they live in a fantasy america where ppl in power actually gave a fuck about indigenous tribes' concerns about ecological impacts of building stuff on their land.

i don't have much to say about gulool ja's mom either other than it's kinda disappointing his mom was a healer lady who thoroughly ruined her own life because she was desperately thirsting for zoraal ja. i thought gulool ja was a clone of zoraal ja. dead moms are already a tired trope in ffxiv and i wish they would stop.

EDIT: i thought about teeshal ja some more. the way she says what she desires is "so very, very close" makes me think that she's as insane as village chief. she was willing to do all those horrible experiments inside the field station out of her desire for zoraal ja. im glad she loves gulool ja but everything about her love for zoraal ja is fucked up.

[artbyfinnbrown]

I Read the Re: Zero IFs

I’ve got thoughts on each of them. Some of these thoughts are more in-depth than others.

Wrath IF: What is this guys deal even? 

The two other “Evil” Subarus (Pride and Gluttony,) while certainly unhinged, had very clear goals (getting Emilia on the Throne, and patching together [Natsuki Subaru], respectively).  But I can’t even tell what this Subaru wants. And to be honest, I don’t even know if Subaru knows want Subaru wants. 

Also, how exactly Subaru became a crime lord? I don’t doubt that Subaru COULD become a crime lord, but I’m curious as to the step-by step process that got him to this point.

Sloth IF: Rem should have been allowed to girlboss more.

Overall though, a very fun story about Subaru, Rem, and their 2 roommates, the wolf ninja who can clone himself, and half of a great spirit. Compared to all the other IFs, this one feels so disconnected from the main story. I don’t think anyone mentions what’s been happening in Lugunica once during this IF.

This also means that the characters form this IF are still around right?  I know Halibel shows up at some point in the main route. But is main route Zarestia still around? Does she still want to kill people? Or is she stuck separated for her light orb? Also, there’s technically another surviving member of the Oni tribe who may be alive? She was alive at some point, maybe not anymore. 

Pride IF: What a drama nerd. This guy can’t do anything with a given situation except escalate it. Ranting at a man about how much you want to be him, and then wishing him a happy birthday, as the city burns around you, was pretty funny. From a certain perspective.

(I make these jokes because what he’s doing is really sad. I’m pretty sure that Greed Subaru is the only one who has Pride Subaru beat for having died the most. He really threw everything away - including his life - for the sake of one girl who was nice to him)

Lust IF: I’m disappointed in myself for reading this, but not as disappointed as I am that this IF exists in the first place.

 

Greed IF: The Tragedy if the AU is greatly increased by the events of canon. Technically this is applicable to all of the IFs, but a few small changes to canon could have easily made this if one of the “Good” ones.

There is a world where Canon went a little differently, and Main Route Subaru was able to save almost everyone, but not everyone at the end of the Arc 4. And he would have accept that no matter how many times he tries, he can’t save everyone. If that had happened, Greed IF could have been hopeful, in a rather depressing way.  “Oh, Subaru may have destroyed himself mentally, but he got to save everyone!” But that’s not how canon went. Main Route Subaru did save everyone, which in turn invalidates everything Greed IF Subaru believes.

Subaru didn’t need to abuse return by death. He didn’t need to stretch his relationships to the limit to keep people safe. He didn’t need to make a deal with a witch. Subaru didn’t have to do any of this. But he has to tell himself that that he did, otherwise the small amount of mental stability he has left will shatter.

Gluttony IF: I expected Subaru to be much more unhinged.

Obviously his actions are incredibly messed up. Everyone around him knows this, and even Subaru knows this, but believes his actions are an entirely necessary evil. But he never acts “crazy”. In all the interactions through the IF, he acts “normal”. If anything, seems less eccentric than Main Route Subaru. In all of the conversations he as, even if the other people act increasing confused or angry, he alway acts calm and rational, even when he’s talking about things like flooding an entire city.

And that honestly makes him even more unsettling.

[songoftrillium]

Hello @songoftrillium.

First thing like to say is that I'm a fan of what you're doing with the WtE project and I would like to wish you the best for the future of said project.

Also if have any trouble with Hauglosk then I would recommend you to check out a newly released WTA VN called Purgatory which give a solid origin (or at least a intended origin) for the condition.

Also it has much more interesting take on the Cult of Fenris than base W5. Where they are portrayed more as an actual cult that accepts all garous from different tribes that buys into they prophesy rather than just a fallen tribe (which as far as I know isn't haven't completely fallen in this version of WtA. They just split off from the cult).

Of course if you don't want to brother with playing the VN then I found a good summary/Review on the onyx parth forums (Look under the heading: "Aleksander’s route" for the relevant parts)

Hello!

I appreciate it. I wish under other circumstances that I didn't have to be making this project, but all the same, it's a great passion of mine, and I'm privileged to be working on this.

I appreciate your mention of Hauglosk. From speaking with writers, the original concept was to be something called Ghreena (which comes from the same language root as Harano), reflecting a type of fanaticism that could be uniquely reflected in each tribe. I wish we could have seen that iteration, though; unfortunately, I don't think that's in the cards.

I've played Purgatory; one of my partners gave it to me as a gift, and I've played it through a few times now. As a story, I enjoy it! I don't think it hits the same way Heart of the Forest did (I was straight up moved to tears in parts,) but for what it was, I enjoyed it; I played both the Pat and the Alex missions. I am looking forward to future patching of the software however, I ran into several major bugs (including one that corrupts the game menu) I'm hoping they handle soon. I think once they take care of it, I'll play it a few more times, I'm sure! Of all the Werewolf videogames out there, this game company definitely knows how to tell a story.

In Werewolf: the Essentials, we are employing a Rage mechanic from Mind's Eye Theater Werewolf we in the team have grown fond of called Seethe. Seethe represents that smoldering anger deep within every Garou, waiting to burst out, chase, and kill things. The mechanic is straightforward:

If something happens to upset, aggravate, annoy, or otherwise perturb your Garou, they gain a point of Seethe, represented as a temporary point of Rage that can go past your permanent Rage score if you let it.

If your character does not become further aggravated, the Seethe point goes away on its own; you can lose one Seethe per hour in this way. The Garou may spend that Seethe as ordinary Rage to burn it off, as well.

If your Seethe exceeds your permanent Rage score by 3 dots, you instantly frenzy.

To be certain, Rage functions a bit more like Legacy in that frenzying isn't an ideal outcome, but your Rage doesn't constantly increase. You also won't need to kill something every turn to stay in Crinos. Rituals, moots, training, etc., can happen in the Crinos form without having to go on a rampage, in short. I think, ultimately, this will benefit everyone, regardless of the edition.

As for the Get of Fenris (Cult of Fenris as you know them), the tribe has been completely rewritten from the ground up to have a lot more grounding to their culture of origin (and no more bloody fascists in my game lol)

I appreciate your reaching out!

If enough people show interest, I'll publish information on the new Get of Fenris.

[auroraburst-1721]

gonna post and share the info of the tribes i just posted >:]c

edit: added the other three :]

🔥Skywing🔥

Characteristics & Traits

Largest wing-to-body ratio in Pyrrhia

Feathered wings

Have most characteristics/traits of birds of prey (i.e, beaks, scaled talons, etc.)

Very thick hide underneath feathers/downy coat

Whip-thin tails

Thin, muscular build

Large barrel chests to hold their lungs, which are bigger than most due to the high altitude where they most commonly live

Short/medium length, curled horns (can be curved in any direction)

Come in a variety of warm colors

Eyes are mostly yellow, gold, orange or red

Markings come in a variety of shapes and sizes, though most resemble common ones found on a multitude of bird species (blue jay, peregrine falcon, etc.)

Eggs look ordinary, looking like exceptionally large robin eggs, light blue with darker blue speckled along the shell

Gender Dimorphism

Males are decidedly more colorful in the markings department, like in some species of bird, the males are more brightly colored to attract a mate

The ends of their feathers are able to be a multitude of different colors, mostly ones that compliment their warmer hues and make them stand out more

Female also are able to have bright colors, but they aren't as vibrant as males

When a dragon decides they want to be a different gender or no specific one at all, their body changes along with their mindset (ex, male > female; colors get more diluted and shrink in size slightly. female > male; grows in size and colored ends get more vibrant. their voices also change pitch. non-binary are mostly between female and male traits, they have their own characteristics that are their own category) 

Mutations

If the egg with two chicks survives, it's almost always gonna have one fire-scale chick and one flameless chick (rare occurrence of having normal chicks)

Rare possibility of an egg having two chicks inside (if more than two, the egg dulls and hardens. same thing happens if any eggs are duds)

Fire-scales are always gonna be brighter hues of the Skywing colors

Flameless, on the other hand, will be duller and more pale

Both will have a chance of having cooler colored eyes or even feathers

The two chicks, if being raised together, will have a stronger bond than others, being twins

Some dragons have been known to be born having some patches of scales or little differences, though they’ll be ridiculed and/or bullied for it anyways

Fire-scales can't control their temperature, resulting in burn wounds

Thankfully, an Unknown Animus dragon had gifted an enchanted chest that provides a selection of specialized, enchanted jewelry to be given to the fire-scale in order for their fire to not hurt others. it cannot be touched by ones that have malicious intentions. if that happens, the dragon that tries will be permanently burned around their necks, forming runes stating their attempted thievery, shaming them for life

Wings vary in size and design (ex. owl, ravel, falcon, robin, pelican, etc.) 

Royal Lineage

Royal Skywings are commonly seen to have gold markings, reflecting like actual gold

Markings are mainly seen on their wings & tail feathers

Their beaks are much more curved, unlike other Skywings, which have smaller ones

Bigger in size and height compared to others

Traditions

They've soon gotten rid of the Fighting Stadium, repurposing it to a fledgling area, volunteers helping young dragons to use their wings for the first time

They have a flying tournament every year and just have a lot of different games and events for the whole tribe (helps w/ moral & bonding family/friends closer together) 

Temperament

Commonly short-tempered

Have a 'higher than thou' complex

Very prideful and vain (mostly)

Most of them take offense very easily

Very competitive towards each other and others

Courting

Hunts down valuables/gifts for potential mate (shiny pebbles/rocks, animal pelts/scales, rare gemstones etc)

If gift is accepted, both will fly to a private spot to sing to eachother, melodious croons and chirps

Shows off crest and tail feathers to display colorful ends/markings in hopes of further impressing potential mate with soft bugles

After acceptance, they will proceed to do a mating flight/dance, risky moves, fire and interlocked talons. Trust fall similar to birds of prey

Both venture to find a place to call home, one gathering materials for a nest while the other scouts the area, making sure it is high enough and safe for raising young

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🐝Hivewing🐝

Characteristics & Traits

Hard exo-skeleton over their bodies, smooth and shiny

Very sharp spines, scales and other extremities

Stingers on the end of their tails, sometimes on the inside of their wrists and fangs (paralysis)

Dark markings akin to bees/wasps

Always a hue of yellow, orange and red paired with dark brown/black markings

Insect wings (comes in a variety of shapes)

Sharp, curved horns with thorn-like protrusions littering it (always a dark color)

Eggs are laid in combs, like bees/wasps, covered in a sticky amber-like saliva that hardens over a few minutes

Gender Dimorphism

Males are slightly broader

Females have longer, skinnier tail

Females have a larger tail (not unlike queen bees and other insects)

Mutations

Hivewing chicks are hatched with almost no dark markings, they develop when they hit a certain age

Chicks’ wings are delicate and fragile, needing gentle, tender care 24/7 until they’re strong enough to be left alone

Sometimes Hivewings can hatch as Albino and/or Melanistic

Melanistics are generally a bit more common than albinos

Albinos don’t ever have dark markings

Some Melanistic chicks are able to have lighter colored markings, basically switching where the colors are normally

Chicks develop their stingers when their markings start to darken and/or their wings are strong enough to hold them up in the air

Royal Lineage

Royals have a bigger tail and stinger than normal female Hivewings

Fangs stick out from their upper jaw, making them look a lot fiercer

Wings are larger and have a specific ‘royal’ pattern

Queens are able to produce honey that is specially made to give to any Hivewing chick, either to turn them into a Royal or give them strength if weak and/or a runt

Traditions

Have a room where eggs were to be held and looked after by the Queen (guards were always guarding them to make sure the Queen didn’t mess with her future tribemates)

Specific Hivewings are able to produce honey, allowing them to make sweets and certain products to feed newly hatched chicks

Temperament

Short-tempered

Used to be fierce and aggressive (wasps)

Now they’re more docile unless provoked (bees)

Scholarly like the Nightwings, though not as well known

Courting

Has an instinctive dance every Hivewing knows to test if they're a match, wiggles their tails and shakes their wings to make a buzzing/clicking noise

If they accept each other, they give a sting to their shoulders, making sure that others know they are mates

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🌿Leafwing🌿

Characteristics & Traits

Wings look like leaves

Fins going down their spine to the base of their tail. has small bulbs to help with sensing changes in the air

Comes in shades of green, yellow/gold and brown (sometimes hues of red and orange)

Has frills like the Rainwings

Since they are somewhat descended from Rainwings, they have fangs that has a weaker poison in them

Unlike other tribes, Leafwings have the ability to absorb the sun’s energy, allowing them to eat infrequently

Eggs look like seeds, 'blooming' at the top when they get close to their hatching date

Gender Dimorphism

Male fins are slightly larger by about 2-3 inches

Male fins and frills are more sharp, while females have curved fins and frills

Females have slightly rounder and smaller horns

Females have longer tails, able to help them anchor to branches and trees easier

Mutations

Rare few chicks are born with the ability of ‘Leafspeak’, giving them control over plant-life

Varies on strength, some are only able to speak/feel plant-life or make them grow faster while others are able to control a large amount around them, rarely ever full trees though

Rare chance of chicks to be born with a completely unusual color (ex, blue, purple, gray, white, black etc.)

Melanistic and Albino is a rare possibility

Royal Lineage

Royals have gold underlying their eyes, looking like eyeliner

They possess two extra pairs of sensors on their heads, giving the impression of a “crown” of sorts

Traditions

They have a similar sun-bathing habit not unlike Rainwings

To protect their young, the dragons that have stronger Leafspeak make plants form a protective and hidden shelter for them to hide and stay safe

When fledglings come of age, they’re tested by an Elder to find out if they have ‘Leafspeak’, being asked to reach out to young saplings or seeds and encourage them to grow/sprout sooner, sense their feelings or ask them to move to a different spot

Temperament

Decidedly more hostile towards other tribes due to the war between Hivewings and Leafwings

Much nicer once others are proven to be trusted in the tribe

Courting

 Makes horn adornments for potential partner/mate

If gift is accepted, they flap and move their frills in sync

After they both accept the other, they go for a flight in the jungle/forest, dodging plants in their way

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🦋Silkwing🦋

Characteristics & Traits

Butterfly shaped wings with a multitude of patterns and colors (no shades, ex: black, gray, white)

Short nub horns (colored to match talons/claws)

They have scales, though they don’t make up most of their body

Silkwings aren’t born with fully developed wings, they have to molt/cocoon at a certain age like caterpillars turning into butterflies and moths

Very soft fur and antenna, freshly hatched have soft downy covering them completely until they come of age to get their wings and scales

Very vibrantly colored, commonly having more than one or two colors and having a variety of patterns and markings covering their form (mostly genetic)

Eggs are small and white, sticking to each other

Gender Dimorphism

Females are slightly bigger and have softer, silkier fur

Males have more colors on their wings to get more attention from potential partners

Females are fluffier and have a bit more muscle

Mutations

Fire-silk: genetic passed down from the sire, making their silk glands hotter and able to burn like fire

Fire-silks are sought after due to the Hivewings using them to fuel their lights and special silk fabrics

Very rare to have an Albino or Melanistic chick hatch

Fire-silks have a distinct pattern hidden in their wings once they develop them, always in the shape of flames or sparks

Albinos are sensitive to light, have worse eyesight, causing them to wear goggles to protect their eyes from further damage

Melanistic Silkwings don’t have vibrant colors, coming in much darker hues

Albino Silkwing silk-glands produce a much finer, delicate silk, making it very hard to harvest without damaging it

Melanistic Silkwing silk-glands produce a stronger, thicker silk, very useful for weaving armor pieces together (almost as strong as steel)

Royal Lineage

Royal descendants of the past Queens have been killed to stop any future rebellion towards the Hivewings… though some lucky few have slipped behind the scenes…

Royals’ wings are more reflective, having a distinct pattern of a darker color spotting along the edges of their wings like monarch butterflies

They have a small stinger in their tails hidden underneath the soft fur

Fur has shiny, reflective strands, able to be seen when light hits them at an angle

Horns are etched with faint streaks of silver/gold

Traditions

Silkwings cocoon their eggs in a special, sticky and strong silk, hanging them on the walls of their homes to protect them (if dragons try to break the cocoon, they’re greeted with a sticky mess of seemingly melted silk covering their talons. Very difficult to get off without the help of a Silkwing)

They’ve forgotten their more important traditions due to their tribe forcefully being merged with the Hivewings...  

Temperament

Docile

Friendly

Very skittish

Non-confrontational (other than a select few)

Courting

 Weaves accessories from own silk, uses dyes to make them more eye-catching, adding personal traits relating to potential partner

when/if gift is accepted, they rub their wings together to make a soft humming noise, nudging the other’s snout with a soft chirp

Finishes off with pressing their silk glands together, allowing silk to intertwine