#Don’t Choose Extinction

[worldpostday]

Launch of a new series of stamps in support of the “Don’t Choose Extinction” campaign.

 The United Nations Postal Administration and United Nations Development Programme (UNDP) announced today the launch of a new series of stamps in support of the “Don’t Choose Extinction” campaign. The three stamp sheets feature Frankie the Dino, the campaign CGI-generated dinosaur hero, addressing world leaders about the climate emergency in the General Assembly Hall of the UN Headquarters in New York. Each stamp sheet has a QR code that, when scanned, will launch a video of Frankie’s speech to world leaders.

The stamps were designed by Rorie Katz of the UNPA, and can be purchased online at http://unstamps.org/shop/dont-choose-extinction/

[taviokapudding]

It’s been 6 years since Automata came out & Ima keep it real, I think it’s about time I start asking for it because if nobody else will start putting it into existence, it most like won’t occur. I also really think a FF7 remake style glow up is a necessity for the franchise’s lore becoming more accessible, especially post the recent anime; I know more people would agree with me that it would make hella money if marketed correctly as a prequel for those who didn’t get to play the originals OR those who did play the originals and had a fucking shit time (iykyk- the pains of Drakenguard 3). We are hitting a point where ps2 & 3 titles won’t be readily playable and tbh all 3 need a major rehaul anyways. Hear me out:

Could Yoko Taro, Platinum Games, & Square Enix PLEASE start remaking Drakenguard 1 & 3 before it becomes lost media outside of a handful of YouTube video cutscenes and Automata lore videos?

[staff]

We Asked an Expert...in Herpetology!

People on Tumblr come from all walks of life and all areas of expertise to grace our dashboards with paragraphs and photographs of the things they want to share with the world. Whether it's an artist uploading their speed art, a fanfic writer posting their WIPs, a language expert expounding on the origin of a specific word, or a historian ready to lay down the secrets of Ea-nasir, the hallways of Tumblr are filled with specialists sharing their knowledge with the world. We Asked an Expert is a deep dive into those expert brains on tumblr dot com. Today, we’re talking to Dr. Mark D. Scherz (@markscherz), an expert in Herpetology. Read on for some ribbeting frog facts, including what kind of frog the viral frog bread may be based on.

Reptiles v Amphibians. You have to choose one.

In a battle for my heart, I think amphibians beat out the reptiles. There is just something incredibly good about beholding a nice plump frog.

In a battle to the death, I have to give it to the reptiles—the number of reptiles that eat amphibians far, far outstrips the number of amphibians that eat reptiles.

In terms of ecological importance, I would give it to the amphibians again, though. Okay, reptiles may keep some insects and rodents in check, but many amphibians live a dual life, starting as herbivores and graduating to carnivory after metamorphosis, and as adults they are critical for keeping mosquitos and other pest insects in check.

What is the most recent exciting fact you discovered about herps?

This doesn’t really answer your question, but did you know that tadpole arms usually develop inside the body and later burst through the body wall fully formed? I learned about this as a Master’s student many years ago, but it still blows my mind. What’s curious is that this apparently does not happen in some of the species of frogs that don’t have tadpoles—oh yeah, like a third of all frogs or something don’t have free-living tadpoles; crazy, right? They just develop forelimbs on the outside of the body like all other four-legged beasties. But this has only really been examined in a couple species, so there is just so much we don’t know about development, especially in direct-developing frogs. Like, how the hell does it just… swap from chest-burster to ‘normal’ limb development? Is that the recovery of the ancestral programming, or is it newly generated? When in frog evolution did the chest-burster mode even evolve?

How can people contribute to conservation efforts for their local herps?

You can get involved with your local herpetological societies if they exist—and they probably do, as herpetologists are everywhere. You can upload observations of animals to iNaturalist, where you can get them identified while also contributing to datasets on species distribution and annual activity used by research scientists.

You can see if there are local conservation organizations that are doing any work locally, and if you find they are not, then you can get involved to try to get them started. For example, if you notice areas of particularly frequent roadkill, talking to your local council or national or local conservation organizations can get things like rescue programs or road protectors set up. You should also make sure you travel carefully and responsibly. Carefully wash and disinfect your hiking boots, especially between locations, as you do not want to be carrying chytrid or other nasty infectious diseases across the world, where they can cause population collapses and extinctions.

Here are some recent headlines. Quick question, what the frog is going on in the frog world? 

Click through for Mark’s response to these absolutely wild headlines, more about his day-to-day job, his opinion on frog bread, and his favorite Tumblr.

✨D I S C O V E R Y✨

There are more people on Earth than ever before, with the most incredible technology that advances daily at their disposal, and they disperse that knowledge instantly. That means more eyes and ears observing, recording, and sharing than ever before. And so we are making big new discoveries all the time, and are able to document them and reach huge audiences with them.

That being said, these headlines also showcase how bad some media reporting has gotten. The frogs that scream actually scream mostly in the audible range—they just have harmonics that stretch up into ultrasound. So, we can hear them scream, we just can’t hear all of it. Because the harmonics are just multiples of the fundamental, they would anyway only add to the overall ‘quality’ of the sound, not anything different. The mushroom was sprouting from the flank of the frog, and scientists are not really worried about it because this is not how parasitic fungi work, and this is probably a very weird fluke. And finally, the Cuban tree frogs (Osteocephalus septentrionalis) are not really cannibals per se; they are just generalist predators who will just as happily eat a frog as they will a grasshopper, but the frogs they are eating are usually other species. People seem to forget that cannibalism is, by definition, within a species. The fact that they are generalist predators makes them a much bigger problem than if they were cannibals—a cannibal would actually kind of keep itself in check, which would be useful. The press just uses this to get people’s hackles up because Westerners are often equal parts disgusted and fascinated by cannibalism. 

What does an average day look like for the curator of herpetology at the Natural History Museum of Denmark?

No two days are the same, and that is one of the joys of the job. I could spend a whole day in meetings, where we might be discussing anything from which budget is going to pay for 1000 magnets to how we could attract big research funding, to what a label is going to say in our new museum exhibits (we are in the process of building a new museum). Equally, I might spend a day accompanying or facilitating a visitor dissecting a crocodile or photographing a hundred snakes. Or it might be divided into one-hour segments that cover a full spectrum: working with one of my students on a project, training volunteers in the collection, hunting down a lizard that someone wants to borrow from the museum, working on one of a dozen research projects of my own, writing funding proposals, or teaching classes. It is a job with a great deal of freedom, which really suits my work style and brain.

Oh yeah, and then every now and then, I get to go to the field and spend anywhere from a couple of weeks to several months tracking down reptiles and amphibians, usually in the rainforest. These are also work days—with work conditions you couldn’t sell to anyone: 18-hour work days, no weekends, no real rest, uncomfortable living conditions, sometimes dangerous locations or working conditions, field kitchen with limited options, and more leeches and other biting beasties than most health and welfare officers would tolerate—but the reward is the opportunity to make new discoveries and observations, collect critical data, and the privilege of getting to be in some of the most beautiful and biodiverse places left on the planet. So, I am humbled by the fact that I have the privilege and opportunity to undertake such expeditions, and grateful for the incredible teams I collaborate with that make all of this work—from the museum to the field—possible.

The Tibetan Blackbird is also known as Turdus maximus. What’s your favorite chortle-inducing scientific name in the world of herpetology?

Among reptiles and amphibians, there aren’t actually that many to choose from, but I must give great credit to my friend Oliver Hawlitschek and his team, who named the snake Lycodryas cococola, which actually means ‘Coco dweller’ in Latin, referring to its occurrence in coconut trees. When we were naming Mini mum, Mini scule, and Mini ature, I was inspired by the incredible list that Mark Isaac has compiled of punning species names, particularly by the extinct parrot Vini vidivici, and the beetles Gelae baen, Gelae belae, Gelae donut, Gelae fish, and Gelae rol. I have known about these since high school, and it has always been my ambition to get a species on this list.

If you were a frog, what frog would you be and why?

I think I would be a Phasmahyla because they’re weird and awkward, long-limbed, and look like they’re wearing glasses. As a 186 cm (6’3) glasses-wearing human with no coordination, they quite resonate with me.

Please rate this frog bread from 1/10. Can you tell us what frog it represents?

With the arms inside the body cavity like that, it can basically only be a brevicipitid rain frog. The roundness of the body fits, too. I’d say probably Breviceps macrops (or should I say Breadviceps?) based on those big eyes. 7/10, a little on the bumpy side and missing a finger and at least one toe.

Please follow Dr. Mark Scherz at @markscherz for even more incredibly educational, entertaining, and meaningful resources in the world of reptiles and amphibians.

[helenazbmrskai]

Mating Act (m)

Title [Mating Act]

Pairing [Alien! Yoongi x Human Slave! Reader]

Genre [Alien AU, Sci-fi, Smut, Angst, Fluff]

Summary [You make two choices that change your life entirely. First, you make a choice when you decide to save a family and get kidnapped instead of them, the second you make is when you force imprinting on an alien that takes one wife in his life which you decide will be only you.]

Words [5,2k]

Warnings [General warnings: slavery, bad treatment, dystopia setting, human trafficking, Sexual content: playful neck grabbing, teasing, sexual tension, first-time sex, dirty talk, manhandling, mention of human and wife a lot, alien anatomy (black ink, coldness and a very hard, big and cold dick also magic saliva), fingering, oral (f and m), unprotected sex, belly bulge, size kink, positions (cock riding, doggy, missionary), y/n cries that is how good she feels, overstimulation, buckets of cum, creampie(s), begging, blow job, possessive alien yoongi]

Rating [+18]

A/N: I’m very excited to share this with you guys since I think this would be a great successor to my previous work that many of you liked called “Mating Season” It’s kind of the same but entirely different. This story is in the same universe but it takes place before mating season!

Masterlist //

Your scrunched eyes open slowly, first, you only see a blinding light your ears focus on the cracking sound of neon. It’s cold and you’re not wearing enough clothes for the cool temperature. It takes a few seconds for your senses to return to you and then you can fixate on your surroundings, it’s outdoors and midday as you see the sun going up high in the purplish blue sky.

It seemed that by the time you were unconscious, you arrived at the slave trading planet. The light grey iron bars are cold to the touch and it’s extremely noisy out there. Different species roam the cells it might be hundreds if not thousands of cells lined up for sale, and you’re one of them: a rare find, a human.

Your introduction is displayed for the buyers in numerous languages. There are a few that you speak so you can read it with ease: female human, breedable, young. You hate how the aliens size you up some even get threateningly close until you back up. They openly talk about you thinking that you can’t understand a single thing. Humans are stupid and weak. You’re a race that is almost at extinction. Only a few of you are left and your life expectancy is around eighty years old, it’s short compared to others but all too long for you humans. You managed to survive this long which is a miracle on its own. How pathetic of you to get caught in international body trafficking because you decided to save someone. At least you hope that the family you tried to protect is safe somewhere else you don’t have anything left to protect so you accept your faith.

Deep in your thoughts, you thought you lost all faith in survival. You don’t have anything to go back to but you’re still unable to give up.

You still don’t want to die.

Your defiant gaze meets with a young male. Shorter than his friends he has bland black hair with the same eyes that almost look human. You know that he’s not one of your own though he speaks a different language with his friends and has weird marking on his skin that looks exotic in your eyes.

“Do you like her?” A man next to him stops to read your description. They almost look sorry for you as they see you behind the cell.

“No.” Black hair says without giving it a second. His eyes bore into yours and when he decides to stop looking at you you make a second split decision. You’re going to choose him. Your hands grip the bars as you get as close to him as you can. It’s been a long time since you used that language but you have to try.

“Take me.” They can clearly understand your words, you speak their language. You point at the black-haired man.

“Oh, it seems to like you Yoongi.” A friendly voice slaps him on the shoulders. They talk animatedly among each other finding you intriguing. Books say that the human race is stupid and weak but you look none of those things. His friends encourage Yoongi to get closer to you and for once you don’t step back as he approaches after a little push in your direction. His hands grab onto the bars before he can regain his posture and you use that opportunity to put your hands on his. His hand is cold to the touch the cold blue veins on his hands are in contrast to his pale white skin.

“Yoongi.” You call out the word you heard them say that you think might be his name.

“We’re running out of time. Let’s take her and leave.” A man speaks up his eyes fixated on the holo panel that shows the time and some kind of message. He has some weird-looking glass in his eyes, you think he might be the captain of the ship. You’ve seen that type of accessory somewhere before.

“I didn’t say I will buy it.” Yoongi pulls his hand away like you dirtied him. You rack your brain on how to make him take you with him. Black hair and black eyes, cool skin and vine-like black ink make you think of a race. You loved to read books this is how you taught yourself a few of those languages and you remember reading about his species once. This decision might take you closer to your end but it will be better than rotting in this place so you grab his clothes and smash your lips on his through the tiny gap between the bars.

A race that takes one wife in his lifetime. You’re going to bet on that.

Your tongue forcefully enters his mouth using his surprise against him to successfully imprint your taste on him. After his mind catches up he pushes you away so hard that you land on your butt. His eyes almost look feral as he watches you, he’s very angry but closes his eyes to push the feeling down.

“Get up.” You haul yourself up from the floor getting close to him despite his hard gaze on you. You don’t flinch when he grabs your hair and pulls you close so that your faces are inches away from each other.

“You want to come, then come.” It’s not a calm and collected sentence that he whispers so close to you. It sounds like a threat but you smile and nod. Even if he hates you he has an obligation to you. With that kiss you sealed your fate with his, you’re his. His one and only human wife for all eternity.

Your back collides with the wall behind you as soon as you see your kidnapper his torture that you had to endure is replaying in the forefront of your mind as he fiddles with the cell keys your hostility is not lost on the young men that wait for your release. Yoongi paid for you in digital cash don’t have more time to waste.

He intends to take you with him so he asks for the ownership process to be sped up.

The kidnapper yanks you out of the cell not caring about how you almost land on your face through the force he uses. Yoongi catches you easily lifting you in his arms. You forced him into accepting you but he still does his job of protecting you. His glare is not meant for you this time as he looks displeased by your idle treatment right in front of him. His big hands are curled around you in pretence protection. You must be crazy because you actually relax in his secure hold.

“Hi.” One of his friends gets your attention as he waves. He looks at you with curious eyes he seems like he has a lot of questions for you.

“Hello.” You reply in a hoarse voice. You don’t remember the last time you ate or drank something.

“What’s your name? I’m Hoseok.” He points at you and then at himself. It’s nice of him to talk slowly so you have time to interpret his words. No one else speaks to you as you go. Probably on their way to their ship since one of them implied some important business. Yoongi doesn’t look at you but his hands are firm around you.

“Y/N.”

“Your name is weird.” Hoseok slaps his friend but you don’t take it in the wrong way. Of course, for them, a human name will sound weird.

“You’re being rude Taehyung.” Hoseok scolds the other guy before he turns back to you swaying in Yoongi’s arms. “I think your name is pretty and you speak our language pretty well. How did you learn it? On Earth?”

You shake your head. If you think about your home planet your heart starts aching. “No. I taught myself reading books.”

Now his other friend looks interested in the conversation. The one who has that weird-looking glass.

“Fascinating, to find a smart human like you. I want to run some tests.” Hearing that crazy scientist talk again brings back bad memories as your face becomes uncomfortable and your relaxed figure goes rigid inside Yoongi’s arms. He could feel you tense up in fear and he reacted by holding you more firmly to his chest.

“You’re scaring her. Stop it.” This is the first thing he says after he bought you. Namjoon looks sheepish and apologises and even Hoseok reassures you that he’s just not good with words and you won’t be a lab rat at all.

You accept their apology. You think they mean well and are quite friendly to your utter surprise. They seem like good guys. You feel like it’s a good time to reveal some of your thoughts.

“Just because you read my description doesn’t mean you know anything about me. I wouldn’t reveal anything that would put me at a disadvantage. This is how I could survive until now.” The words taste sour in your mind and you think about all the things you had to do and endure just to be here. Was it worth it? This life. You have thought about it more times than you would have liked to admit.

“It must have been hard for you.” Hoseok shows you empathy and you give him a smile back in silent thanks.

“Why did you choose Yoongi?” A younger male looks at you with curious eyes. They don’t show it but this is the question they all were curious about all along. Even Yoongi perks up when he thinks you’re not looking.

“My instinct told me to trust him.” As for why, you don’t know either. You saw countless men and women walk in front of your cage but you only wanted him to buy you. The moment his eyes unknowingly lingered on you you decided to go with him. He must have felt something too. You saw him before he saw you. He never looked at anyone else but you. If you ask him he will probably deny it but you’re sure of it.

You probably looked desperate. Now that you replay your impulsive behaviour in your mind colour blooms on your cheeks in embarrassment. You learned how to kiss from a book it didn’t occur to you before but what if you were a bad kisser? You started spiralling until your surroundings faded and you locked yourself inside your head. You didn’t register when you arrived on board or when he carried you to his room.

You shiver when he puts you down on his bed. The temperature of his room is colder than you’re used to.

You panic when he tugs your clothes without a word. You grab his cold hands and look into his eyes with widened ones. He looks back at you with predatory. You once read that humans had a ceremony to be pronounced wife and husband. You never experienced it as a human but it sounded romantic.

Thinking back on what you read.

Yoongi is an alien. His species only takes one wife and their ritual is different from yours. The road to becoming his wife is simple enough.

“Look at you being surprised. As if you didn’t know what you did when you kissed me first.” You didn’t know, you just acted impulsively without thinking. You wanted to say that to him but only a gasp left your lips as he pushed you down on his large bed. He won’t listen to any of your pathetic excuses now.

“You forced my hands. Even if you don’t want it anymore you have no other choice but to be mine.” You gulp down the saliva that accumulated in your mouth, his fierce eyes pin you to the spot lying helplessly under him. His hand is so cold as he wraps it around your neck gently he can feel your heartbeat accelerate under his palm. He studies your features taking in every inch of you from head to toe. Committing everything about you to memory. Yoongi curls a few locks of your long hair around his fingers inhaling your scent his nose rubs against your pulse point. Your hands hold onto his waist digging your fingers onto his side but he doesn’t care about it as he kisses the skin on your neck.

You’re dirty and dishevelled in appearance your captor was not kind to his prisoners and you look like a shell of yourself after everything that you’ve been through. Your average beauty doesn’t matter to Yoongi. He’s going to take you regardless of how beautiful you look in other's eyes or not. The kiss already sealed your fate as his bride. Imprinting your taste on him means that he can’t escape you. While Yoongi wants to take you right then and there he realises that you need to be in a better shape to undertake the ritual. He did get a reaction rise out of you. So amusingly innocent.

“Take a shower, you reak.” You awkwardly look to the side unable to meet with his confident smirk. He likes to watch your face turn red. He pulls away from you and you take in a long-needed breath of fresh air. The coldness seeping back into your body makes you sober up and you scurry to his joined bathroom. Yoongi laughs as he sees you hide behind the door he makes sure you can operate the shower before he goes out to get some food for you. You don’t have any clothes to wear but you’re at least clean.

You find a clean cloth to wrap around your body in makeshift clothes it’s better than nothing as you need something to shield you from the cold.

Yoongi comes back before you can organize your thoughts. You could barely calm your heart as your mind kept replaying his soft lips on your neck and his body weight on you not to talk about those alluring black eyes. You could still see your reflection in them as you lock gazes. You look away when he puts the tray down in front of you full of food that you don’t know the name of. It’s not too bad once you take a bite but it’s bland the more you consume. It meets the purpose of filling you up as you no longer feel that gnawing hunger in the pit of your stomach.

You jolt up when you feel his hand pull your wet hair to the other side making his way to your neck. He takes a long whiff of air finally smelling your natural scent that was previously masked by the dirt and sweat. He takes the opportunity to cover you in his scent rubbing his nose up and down your throat.

You can’t concentrate on eating anymore.

“Eat. You will need it.” As if he could read your mind he halts all movements simply deciding on laying his head on your shoulder. You pick up more food and try to ignore how his possessive touch engulfs your body in a backhug. You remember how angry he became once you forcibly kissed him he even pushed you hard enough to lose your footing. The way he accepted you is too sudden.

“Are you going to …” Unable to say the words you stop in the middle.

“Am I going to fuck you? Yes, I will.” You gulp.

“Don’t you hate me for kissing you?” You close your eyes when Yoongi wraps his fingers around your neck again this time with more force but gentle enough that you’re not choking on air he just pulls you against his chest holding you by the neck as his nose rubs against your left cheek.

“I am angry. You selfishly decided this on your own. I bet you don’t realise half of the mess you got yourself into. I don’t hate you though. There’s something about you that caught my eye.”

It’s only a small peck on your cheek but your hands tighten around the tray. You take in a much-needed breath when you realise he doesn’t hate you. It makes you feel better knowing that it’s not entirely your imagination. He did look at you.

“I admit I don’t know much.” You sheepishly reply confirming his words. You read some things about his species but there’s no proof that everything is accurate.

“It doesn’t matter as you will be mine anyway.” His hand pulls you close his fingers splayed over your stomach. You only have a thin cloth over your naked body while Yoongi is fully clothed.

“Put down the tray.” You follow his order bending down slightly to put the tray down onto the floor. You let out a surprised yelp when his hands find your ass under the thin material, your backside is on full display for his hungry eyes. Your fingers have a deadly grip on the edge of the bed as he kneads the soft flesh.

“Your smell comes strongly from here.” His thumb parts your folds some wetness is gathered there that sticks to his finger when he pulls back. “I read a few books about you too, enough to know that this means you like the idea of me fucking you.”

Yoongi hates how he can’t see you acting coy biting your lip so he forcibly pulls you back against his chest and pulls your face to the side. You land on his lap your legs dangling on either side of his thighs. He runs his finger up and down your wetness watching your expression turn hazy and your mouth open to let out a silent moan.

“You like this don’t you? Having your human pussy touched by me.” Yoongi finds your clit quickly finding out how your moans increase in volume when he rubs circles over it. You’re gushing over his fingers.

The black ink on his arms moves to stain your body with blackness until it circles over your thigh in two pretty hoops. Your body is getting overheated as his touches devour your body. Fingers dance around your folds, your hips. The black hoops around your ankles and thighs are a reminder of what you started. You’re going to become Yoongi’s and no one can stop that from happening.

Feeling overwhelmed you reach up to kiss him and he does with a growl. He doesn’t push you away like when you stole his first kiss. No. He pulls you closer turning you around until you’re chest to chest.

Your hand rests against his shoulders your fingernails digging into his skin as you feel one of his fingers enter you without warning. Yoongi swallows your sounds with his mouth pushing his finger in and out of your pussy until your essence is running down his wrist. He adds another one and another one stretching your walls as he devours your mouth your hips moving along without you noticing. Getting into the rhythm of riding his fingers. You need to pull back to get some air in between the kisses. His hungry expression manages to steal your last remaining string of sanity. The cloth around you barely covers you anymore and Yoongi goes to remove it and leave you entirely naked before him.

His attention goes to your perky nipples both hands grabbing a handful and pepper kisses around the mound.

So far he doesn’t look strange. Not that you have any experience of what you should see in a situation like this. You conclude that your newly formed tattoos are one of the few things that are specific to his race.

His tongue is cold it makes you shiver when he sucks on one of your nipples. He’s so cold but his coolness is welcomed by your feverish body.

“Lay down.” You do as he tells you. Eagerly and shamelessly open your legs and welcome him between them. This is really happening you realise when he takes off his clothes. His pale skin is pretty and cool against you. Even his cock lined with cold blue veins is pretty and cold when he rubs it between your folds. It’s big and hard like a rock against you. Yoongi can see how you tense up after seeing his size.

“It won’t hurt if you do as I tell you.” He caresses your cheek with his thumb kissing you surprisingly sweetly.

“O-okay.” You nod. You wanted this. You can’t back down now. This is your only chance to live a life without hardships. You’re going to take everything that he gives you.

“This will make it feel better.” Yoongi licks his finger and when it comes into contact with your clit you feel an overwhelming pleasure bloom inside you. His saliva is heightening your pleasure having some kind of chemical in it that helps you feel kind of high. It blocks the pain when his veiny head pushes through the tight rim of your muscle. You and Yoongi watch how his long cock disappears in you inch by inch. It doesn’t hurt at all as he keeps his thumb on your clit, only making you feel full.

“Too much.” You put your hand on your stomach and feel him sitting inside. He makes way no matter how much your body tries to constrict around the intrusion. He reaches your deepest part shaping you into his size.

“There. All in.” Yoongi chuckles when he sees you struggle. You want to stay still and move at the same time. It feels good and strange but too good. You want him to move but on the other hand, you need time to get accustomed to this fullness. Yoongi can see the outline of his cock bulge out of your tummy and he experimentally pushes against your skin. Your pussy pulse around him and get tighter as he massages your lower belly. “How does it feel my little human? Do you feel good?”

You nod kissing him back with passion as your tongues rub together. He continues his descent down your body kissing your neck and breasts. Filling your body with pretty black ink. You pulse and throb around him as he remains unmoving inside you. Not enough you roll your hips trying to show him you want him to move.

“Answer me. Does my cock make you feel good?” At first, he only pulls out a little before he thrusts back testing the waters before he pulls out more as he uses a steady pace to rock into you.

“Yes. Yes. So good please don’t stop. Fuck me harder.” Yoongi wonders how his wife learned how to say such dirty words in his language but he’s thankful for it as his cock appreciates the compliments. Just like you asked he fucks you harder hitting that spot inside you with more deep thrusts.

“Yoongi. Yoongi.” The way you moan his name spurs him on, grabbing your ankles he sinks the remaining inch inside you.

“Ah. Y/N.” He responds with your own name. Grabbing your hips he pumps his cock in and out of you at a fast pace until you can remember his shape. This is the first time he says your name and your walls constrict around him hearing him moaning it. He’s growing addicted to the feel of you. He can hear and smell and see you. The way your pussy swallows him in your tight and wet heat ruined every expectation he had before.

You feel way better than he imagined.

Your tits bounce with each thrust and your moans never cease to slip from your dry throat as he buries his shaft to the hilt.

“Yoongi, I feel weird.” You grab his hand need something to hold onto as you feel this weird tightness in your belly. Yoongi could sense you were almost there tripping over the edge of bliss you became tighter around him. You’re growing sensitive.

“I know. Hold onto me, my sweet wife.” You hold his hand as he twists it behind your back the position is uncomfortable but the minute his cock slips back inside your heat you forget about it as it reaches new places inside you. Your back is arched one hand is firmly holding you and the other is placed on your hips.

This position allows him to hit even deeper the tip of his cock curves around a spot that has you see stars. You’re panting with your face nearly suffocating against the bed. Unable to move or hold yourself up you’re entirely kept in place by the help of Yoongi. The tightness in your chest explodes as you cream around Yoongi’s cock. He doesn’t stop there he fucks you through overstimulation keeping up with his ruthless pace you tear through the bedsheets. His long fat cock claims your pussy as his with a heavy load of cum. The tattoos on your body all settle down as he finishes with a few sloppy thrusts into your buttered hole.

Once he pulls out you can feel his thick cum pour out and his fingers trace your tattoos painting your body with his whiteness until everything about you is covered in him. He doesn’t stop there, he pries your shaking legs open and latches onto your sensitive bud. Yoongi pushes his cum back with two of his fingers as his tongue flicks over your clit. It’s too much and you try to push his face away but he doesn’t budge. He holds both of your hands in his tight grip on your stomach as he continues to feast on your pussy.

“Yoongi. Oh, uh.” You squirm but you can’t escape his hold. “Please. Stop, i-it’s too much.” Tears start to roll down your cheeks the next orgasm you experience hurts so bad but you can’t deny how it feels incredible at the same time. More intense than the previous one you had you let go with a cry of his name and cum around his fingers.

“No. More.” Yoongi looks up after registering your hiccup and goes up to soothe you. His tongue licks your tears away showering your neck and face with kisses until your crying subsides.

Yoongi looks you over and while he finds you utterly appealing covered in his cum he has a concerned look in his eyes. “Are you alright? Did I hurt you?” He pulls you close to his chest but after your senses come back one by one you start to feel his sticky cum all over you. Some still gush out of your hole as he hugs you to his body.

“No.” You shake your head reassuring him with a kiss. You don’t want to admit you cried because he felt so good.

This is the first time you experienced something like this. You’re in no way an expert but you know that his dick is not like any human males you’ve encountered in your books. They shouldn’t be so cold and big and the small ridges that kept rubbing your insides felt weird but incredibly good at the same time.

Even when he’s not aroused he’s so big. You want to touch it. “Can I?” Asking for permission you reach for his cock that rests against your leg but you don’t touch it until you get the green light for it.

“Sure.” Yoongi chuckles at your curiosity. It hasn’t been a hot minute that his dick was inside you but you want to touch it.

“It’s cold.” You muse, it’s slick with both of your cum so you could drag it up and down easily. Yoongi’s gasp catches in his throat it’s still sensitive but he lets you pump it until it’s hard again. You grow curious about how it tastes so you lick around the head as your hand moves up and down in slow motion. It doesn’t really taste like anything to you. Easy to swallow. You take your place in between his legs to get comfortable. Yoongi shivers when he feels your hot mouth around his most sensitive cockhead. You dip your tongue into the slit earning a loud groan from Yoongi his hand rests on top of your head only moving to get the hair out of his view of you sucking his cock.

“Do you like it?” You wonder if it feels good for him. This is the first time you’re doing this.

“Y-Yes, keep going.” You take more of him into your mouth encouraged by his hooded eyes that watch you. “Your mouth is very warm. It feels incredible.” You hum around a mouthful of cock he’s too big for you to get even half of him into your mouth. You stroke the skin that you can’t lick and you focus on his head instead of trying to choke on his cock. Even though you don’t think he wouldn’t like to see you choke on his length trying to fit everything. He reassures you that he likes everything you do to him. He doesn’t try to push your head down and you appreciate his thoughtfulness with an enthusiastic bob of your head up and down his length. He fills your mouth so much that it’s hard for you to swallow around it.

He's throbbing between your lips as you kiss the tip. He shows you how much he’s enjoying it with his lewd moans and sweet touches on your face and the back of your head. Contemplating what you should do with yourself you decide to give in to the desire once more. You want to have him again that it outweighs your concern to be able to take him after such a short time but it doesn’t deter you as you climb on his lap.

“Help me?” You ask shyly rubbing on his fully hard cock.

“Of course,” Yoongi replies with a smirk he can see how needy you are and he won’t deny his pretty wife anything. He kisses your lips sucking on your tongue as he guides your hips to hover over his cockhead.

He touches and kisses every mark and tattoo that appears on your skin.

You sink slowly at your own pace feeling full but you overcome the stretch of your body remembering his shape makes it easier for you to bury it fully into you. He’s big and hard as a rock inside you.

You need him to help you move but he’s more than eager to lift you and have you bounce on his cock. He’s wound up from your previous actions he had no idea he would be this turned on by seeing your small hands and mouth wrapped around his dick. You smell delicious he can’t help but kiss every inch he can reach as he guides you through the motions. You bounce on his cock your expression entirely clouded by pleasure as he hits the best spots inside your spongy walls. Yoongi kneads your ass pulling them apart to watch his cock disappear inside your small pussy. Your body might be coated in his cum but his cock is entirely coated in your arousal and cum until he shoots a fresh load inside your spent hole.

The others don’t see you the next couple of days only catch the back of Yoongi as he carries fresh food for you.

[holylulusworld]

Sewer Rat (3)

Summary: He broke your heart. Now he must pay for it.

Pairing: Mobster!Bucky Barnes x fem!Reader, former Mobster!Tony Stark x fem!Reader

Warnings: angst, scared reader, Bucky is scary as shit, mentions of a breakup, Tony being an asshole, Rumlow is no better, hatred on men

Sewer rat (2)

Sewer rat masterlist

“Pier 3,“ you recite the information you memorized if Tony ever turned his back on you. “He likes to use the warehouse there for interrogations. He pays the guards, and the cops look the other way.”

“Good,” Steve nods while taking notes. “We will check on the warehouse and see if he’s hiding our informant there.”

“I’m not sure, okay,” you hastily add. “It’s simply an assumption. I heard him talk about the warehouse and Pier 3 more than once. Not while I was around, of course. Only in a hushed tone in private.”

“Steve, be careful. It could be a trap,” Bucky warns. “No hasty decisions. Maybe Stark tries to fuck us over by feeding his bed bunny the wrong information.”

You flinch at his crudeness. Bed bunny, that’s what women are to these men. Nothing else. A toy to use until they get bored or find a better toy.

“If the information was right too, can I go then?” You hope Bucky will keep his word and help you start a new life. A few bucks and new papers will be enough. You’re not picky like Tony’s ex.”

“Boss did ya hear? Stark already replaced her." Rumlow snorts in your direction. He’s not the nicest guy, but you didn’t expect him to be friendly.

Bucky quirks a brow. “Oh, whom is he fucking now?”

Rumlow makes a face. “Potts, his ex.” He snorts. “If I exchange a pussy for another one, I’d choose a new one. Not an old hole I already fucked.”

That’s enough. They don’t know anything about love. You don’t need a guy like Rumlow to make fun of your predicament and broken heart.

“He can fuck any hole he wants to fuck. I don’t care. Your input is useless to me,” Bucky mutters as he watches you close the door behind you. “Next time, don’t mention it in front of our new informant. She’s a little sensitive when it comes to her ex.”

Brock rolls his eyes. “Did ya get weak for some pussy, boss? She’s only a random informant.”

“I gave you an order,” Bucky snarls at Rumlow. “I expect you to follow my orders without asking questions. If she’s crying her eyes out, she’s not useful to me.”

You angrily wipe your already swollen eyes. His ex. Out of all the women he could replace you with, it’s his ex. Pepper Potts. The shadow you were living in for the longest time. It was only a matter of time for her to reclaim her throne.

“Spilled milk,” Bucky waltzes into the guestroom. Well, you cannot expect privacy in his house. You’re nothing but an unwanted guest, an intruder even. “You shouldn’t cry over him.”

“What do you know about feelings and love?” You snap at Bucky. “Not days ago, I believed Tony would propose, and now he’s banging his ex. The red-haired devil.”

“As I said—” He stops right in front of you to grab your hand and keep you from wiping off my tears.“ If you want me to help you, these will be the last tears you waste on him. I need your sharp mind to bring Stark down. What I don’t need is a crybaby.”

“You’re such an insensitive asshole, Barnes. You all are. Men are all the same,” you snap at him and wiggle your wrist free. “Why do women still waste their time on you? You don’t deserve love and devotion. None of you. We should let you go extinct.”

Bucky snores at your outburst. “You can be funny too. No wonder Tony kept you around for longer than his usual flings.”

Getting reduced to a fling stings. You know by now that Tony never loved you; otherwise, he would’ve listened when you tried to tell him that you’d never cheat on him.

“I cannot understand how women and men can be so different,” you say, and look around the room. “We don’t belong together. You only want sex—a warm body to lean on once in a while. We look for a connection and a deeper meaning beyond psychical touch.”

Shaking your head, you look at your hands. They’re trembling. “It’s not worth the pain and disappointment. If men like us commit to a woman, it’s more than marriage or a relationship, Y/N. Till death do us part means something different in our world. You should know that. If you are mine, you’ll be in danger all the time.”

“Tony never warned me,” you murmur. “He came into my life and..." You shake your head, chuckling humorlessly. “He simply demanded that I change my life to commit to our relationship. I gave up my job, my home, and my friends. I built my fucking life around his needs, only for him to throw me out like trash.”

“I told you, no more tears.” He roughly cups your face and growls your name, “It’s not worth it. Love is an illusion. Nothing else.”

“What a sad world we’re living in,” you conclude. “In the end, you are all great pretenders, aren’t you?” Lifting your chin defiantly, you look Bucky straight in the eyes. “Tony pretended to love me. My friend pretended to be my friend. And you pretended to be on my side. All of you used me differently.”

“May I remind you that you came to me?” Bucky angrily replies. “I didn’t use you. It was a business transaction. You deliver information; I protect you.”

“Sure, you do,” you reply without missing a beat. “For as long as I’m useful. After that—” You shrug and keep the ending open. Just like Bucky does.

Jake worriedly looks your way. “Boss, I don’t think she should see this.” He says and pleadingly looks at Bucky.

“Play the footage, Jensen,” Bucky grunts. He’s not in the mood to waste more time finding the people behind your downfall. “Now. I don’t have all day.”

While you nervously wring your hands, Jake starts the video. It’s your friend and certain redhead talking. The timestamp tells you the meeting took place one week before he called you.

You can hear Pepper tell your friend to call you and pretend he wants to marry. That he must hug you and kiss your cheek. She wanted him to spend time with you and that she'd take care of the rest.

“Pepper Potts, what a devious snake you are,” Bucky muses. “Who would’ve thought she would go so far only to get that old man’s dick again?”

“Me,” you reply. “She threatened me whenever she got the chance. Pepper believed I was the reason for their breakup. In reality, I met Tony half a year after their breakup.”

“You mean he told you so, sweet cheeks,” Rumlow snickers. “I hate to break it for you, but Stark wanted to get into your pants. He’d told you about the sun and the moon to get between your legs.”

“As amusing as my heartbreaks must be to you, this won’t help me start a new life.” You shrug when the men stare at you. “She got away with it, okay. Tony is banging his ex, and all my shit belongs to her now. All I want is to get out of this town without getting shot.”

Bucky grabs you by your arm to guide you out of the room. “It took us days and lots of resources to find out the truth. You could show a little more gratitude.”

“I gave you everything to destroy Tony and take over his empire. That should be enough, don’t you think?” You try to put a brave face on and not show weakness. Bucky owes you, and he knows it. “When will you get me out of town?”

“You’re mine for as long as I tell you.” He cups your face with his gloved hand. “Don’t you dare believe for one second I’ll shelter your life if you keep on talking like that to me.”

“Breaking promises already?” You challenge. “I believe you’re known for being a man of your word.”

“I am a man of my word.” He kisses you hard, taking you by surprise. You gasp when he steps away seconds later. “When I said you’re mine, I meant it.”

Tags in reblog.

[peace-hunter]

In the haunted au when you talk about Optimus losing cybertron do you mean it’s being ruled by deceptions and isn’t safe for autobots to stay there? Or the more angsty route of cyberton being uninhabitable due to something that happened?

Cause one is very sad and the other means primus is dead and I don’t think I’ll survive those implications T-T

it's a little bit of both!

i think the war was getting so bad that if it had continued any longer it would've led to cybertron's complete and utter ruin. and while the autobots could've lasted a few more decades, perhaps even a century or two, the primes saw the writing in the wall and convinced optimus to retreat before he lost more of his people and helped condemn cybertron to its death.

better to leave their planet alive in the control of the decepticons than kill it in a war that would doom both sides to extinction. they can always return once they find a way to end the war swiftly, but they don't know if there would be a way to bring their world back from death.

neither of them counted with the fact that because the matrix is leaving with optimus, energon would once again stop flowing through cybertron, leaving the decepticons to either return to mining for it or hunting OP down through the galaxy to bring him back. guess which one they choose.

haunted au

[justalittlesolarpunk]

hi! i love your blog :D do you have any advice to implement low waste and solarpunk aspects into everyday life with a tight budget? keep doing what you do!

Hi!

Thanks for asking - I’ve had this question before and it’s definitely a real problem. Organic, plastic free food is expensive. So is handmade durable clothing, and train fares these days. It can feel like only the rich can be solarpunks, which is pretty counterintuitive given its anticapitalist ideology. But! I’m here to tell you there’s lots you can do to bring solarpunk into your life in a cost-effective way.

To start with, lots of solarpunk spaces are free or cheap. Get a library card and you can borrow as many books and DVDs and other resources as you like. Look up to see if there’s a library of things in your neighbourhood, and join a buy nothing or stuff for free group online. Download TooGoodToGo, which lets you access food from local cafes and restaurants which would otherwise go to waste. See if there’s a repair cafe that operates near you - I managed to get a pair of trousers mended at one of these for free, and I had been thinking I would need to pay a tailor (which is fine if you can afford it! Skilled labour deserves fair wages!). In some places plant-based food is cheaper, so when it is, choose it. But in others it will cost more than animal products so you have to decide on a case by case basis whether saving money or a particular diet is more important to you.

There’s lots else you can do for minimal spending or that actually saves you money. Walking to work or school avoids the expenditure in the petrol for a drive or a bus fare. If you’re within walking distance and able to do so, I’d recommend it. Joining your local chapter of Extinction Rebellion, Friends of The Earth, Greenpeace, The A22 network or any other active climate group in your area is almost always free and just involves a small weekly time commitment. This will introduce you to activists and inform you about protests and public meetings you can attend.

If you have the time in your week and the physical ability, which I acknowledge many people don’t, you can also join some sort of volunteer group looking after a nature reserve or tending a community garden (which might also give you access to free or discounted food). Learning to forage is also a good skill as that really is free food!

Depending on where you are, a green electricity tariff *can* also be less expensive. If this is the case and you have control over your provider, it’s worth switching to it. Buying books and clothes secondhand will also be better for the environment and your bank balance. Teaching yourself about the climate and the natural world with podcasts, YouTube, online free articles and other resources is also free and the knowledge will help you keep solarpunk at the front of your mind. Read good news stories online whenever you can, to remind you that good things are happening already.

If you’re employed, you can also try to influence green policy at your workplace or in your trade union. If you’re at school or university, joining (or setting up!) the environmental society and/or lobbying for change at the SU are both good ideas and shouldn’t necessarily cost you anything. If you can - and I know this is inaccessible for a big swathe of the population - put a very small amount of money aside whenever possible, because the more you save the more you can afford to buy better products, donate to causes, help out the needy in your community, travel in a greener way, and other more expensive choices. It’s all about that dual power.

Hope this helps get you started!

[azsazz]

Friend or Foe

Eris x Azriel x Reader

Summary: I mixed these two anon requests together, and hopefully it went alright :) "I was just thinking about Azriel beging a mate with a mother of dragons (like in game of thrones) ot would be so powerful... like, sm" and "Request! A Eris x Archeron!yn fic. Imagine a prythian where the high lords are not good and friendly with each other and are now planning a war over one another to take down the court next to them and rule over. Now after a LOT of convincing Autum Court and Night court are forced in a alliance between each other because of yn. Now imagine if one of them sabotages the alliance! What will happen? Who will yn choose? Will she be able to choose between her sisters and mate?"

Warnings: None.

Word Count: 2,901

Notes: The beginning is kinda shit but I wanted to share anyway.

_________________________________________

You sigh softly, admiring your mate in his sleep. His unruly amber hair splays across the fluffy pillow beneath his head, and the strong smattering of freckles dot his cheeks like embers, glowing in the morning light.

He has one arm thrown across his eyes, blocking the warm sun that’s peeking in the windows. You’d forgotten to draw the curtains last night, after Eris had growled at the handmaidens to remove themselves from his chambers as he took you to the bed and ravaged you all night, not having seen you for moons now. 

He’d been so excited to see you, though he wouldn’t let Azriel catch him in that state, no matter if they were also connected by the bond. An unfortunate thing, that the alliance between the two courts was not stronger, and it sometimes felt as if you were the only reason the deal was made in the first place. 

As if sensing your gaze on him, he blinks awake sleepily, a smile gracing his gorgeous face when he catches you looking.

“Good morning, fawn.”

“Good morning, mate.”

His smile widens at that, and he rolls over, scooping you under his body as he cages you in. You squeal, accepting the warmth of his body and the plethora of kisses he presses to your skin. You’re enjoying each other’s happiness this morning.

“I want to show you something,” he says suddenly, drawing away from you. You puff a laugh, brushing his hair back from his eyes. He’s positively giddy, an emotion you don’t usually see on your mate, but you’re thankful for his mood this morning. 

“Okay,” you grin, “Where are we going?”

He presses a kiss to your mouth and pushes himself from bed, dragging you up with him. “I can’t tell you,” he answers, but he’s beaming, moving around the room like he’s just been named High Lord. “I only ask that you wear something you can walk in.”

⋅•⋅⊰∙∘☽༓☾∘∙⊱⋅•⋅

What Eris shows you takes your breath away.

He takes you through the forest, so deep into the woods that you have to take horses, and after you tie them to a tree to wait, its still a few miles to get to where he wants. 

You enjoy it though, the serenity of the woodland around you, hand tucked in the warmth of your mates, and you don’t understand why Eris is stopping you in the middle of a clearing until he’s gesturing down to your feet.

You gasp, taking a step back at the sight of three large eggs, huddled together near the edge of the clearing.

“What is this?” You ask, in disbelief. They’re the largest eggs you’ve ever seen, and you don’t recognize the coloring one bit.

Eris leans down, his hands wrapping around your waist to pull you into his body. “Dragons.”

“Dragons?” you repeat, grasping onto his forearms. But dragons are a myth, creatures that have been extinct and unheard of for centuries, millenia even. “But how—”

“I don’t know,” your mate answers, squeezing you tight. “I found them when I missed you and was wandering deep in the forest. They can help us win the war.”

Yes, yes, they would be able to help win the war. You’re over the moon excited about your mates finding, even though the creatures might be too uncontrollable and young to be such a big part of this upcoming war.

“We have to tell Az, we have to—”

“We can’t.” 

You tear your gaze from the sight, furrowing your brows up at him.

“What do you mean we can’t tell Azriel?” you pull away. Your stomach twists into tight knots, and when Eris tries to reach out for you, you take a step back. His mouth firms and his hand drops to his side, sizzling in the quiet forest around you. “Eris, this could win the war.”

“I know,” he answers, voice harsh. He hadn’t shown you this to share it with your other mate, but to excite you instead, show you how much better off, how much safer you are in his court, with his smokehounds, with his dragons, and with him to protect you. None of those Illyrian swill, with their thin wings and long swords. They were hot headed creatures, more so than any autumn court general he’s seen, and he doesn’t think that Azriel can care for you as well as he can. He sure as hell knows that no one in the Night Court cares for you, they only pretend because you’re Azriel’s mate. 

“What are you saying then?” you ask, voice trembling. You curl your fingers into your thick skirts, suddenly hot under the Autumn sun. You don’t like the way your mate is speaking, like their alliance won’t be honored and instead, they’ll aim for their allies. “That you’ll attack the Night Court?”

Eris stays quiet and your throat aches with emotion. Tears spring to your eyes and you try to shove them away, try to keep your betrayal from leaking down the bond to either of your mates, but Azriel always keeps close tabs on you, and he feels the ache in his body as if it’s him who is feeling all of these conflicting emotions.

What’s going on? He sends to both you and Eris. He knows something is upsetting you, that you’re hurting, but he doesn’t know if Eris is the one doing it or has the situation under control, so he reaches out to the both of you for answers. Are you okay?

Eris flinches at the sound of the shadowsinger in his head. His fiery eyes are both a warning and disappointment. He had hoped to show you this to sway you on your stance in the war, to explain to you how they could never be allies with the Night Court and never would be. That you shouldn’t risk the chance of death to be by Azriel’s side in battle, but flying high in the skies with him, nearly untouchable to the soldiers below.

He shakes his head silently, pleading with you not to let the information slip. You’d be a traitor to your mate, your High Lord, to your court. 

You would be his enemy. 

Tears slip down your cheeks, hot and stinging as they roll down your red cheeks. You can’t do this, you can’t lie to your mate like this, even if he is from a rival court. But as far as the Night Court knows, they have an alliance—it’s why you’re free to spend time with both mates in their respective courts. But now…now you’re not quite sure what to think, where you stand in this war at all.

I’m alright, Az, you send back to him and Eris’ shoulders slump in relief.

You know that Azriel is only responding to you because Eris is stepping closer and reaching a hand out to comfort you, but you still can’t believe him, and you step back from his grasp, inching closer to the dragon eggs behind you. Then why are you so upset, my love?

Eris’ amber gaze flickers to the precious creatures behind you, and you’re quick to respond to your Night Court mate, I can’t talk now, Azriel, there’s something I need to do. I will reach out when I can, and I love you so much.

You realize that it sounds like a goodbye, but you shut that part of your mind away, pushing him from your thoughts to focus on your other mate, standing before you. 

“My fathers plans have not been flushed out yet, but I assume taking the territory of the Night Court is on the list of what he’s willing to accomplish by the end of this war,” Eris explains to you.

Your stomach bottoms out. You can’t believe he’s telling you this. You can’t believe he’s going along with this.

“Is it because of Azriel?” you ask, but it's no louder than a whisper as the thought takes root in your mind. Did Eris agree to infiltrate the Night Court to try and get rid of your other mate? So that he could be your only fate?

If he does accomplish something like that, you will never forgive him.

Eris’ gaze softens, as if he knows the direction of your thoughts. “No,” his voice is gentle, like that of a crisp orange leaf falling from the trees around you. The long grass rustles beneath your feet and the chill sends shivers down your spine. Eris reaches out again, trying to take your hand, to comfort his mate in need, but you’re having none of him right now, and it stings. “It’s because of my father.”

“So kill him,” you plead, desperately, and Eris flinches. Crows flee the clearing at your screams, and your desperation grows thickly in the sunlight space. “You can’t do this to them! To us!”

Your name is a sigh of frustration on his lips and it makes you still, heart pounding in your chest as your anger flares. Eris is distraught, you can see it in the purple rings beneath his eyes, the despair in his eyes, how he runs his fingers through his hair, pulling on it as if it holds all of the solutions to his problem. 

“Do you think I want this?” His voice is laced with smoke and the grass around his feet burst into flames. It makes you ache for him, but you don’t understand what’s going on, and Eris can’t seem to explain it to you. “The last thing I want is to take you from your other mate,” he gasps, but when you open your mouth to try and calm him down, to stop him from burning down the clearing around you, he continues. “I don’t care that he’s your mate too, I don’t care. I would never take him from you nor you from him.”

“Eris,” you try, “Then tell me what’s going on.”

He collapses to his knees as he tries to explain but the words are as tangled on his tongue as they are in his mind. He can’t get his head straight, he doesn’t know what to do, how to stop any of this. “I—”

He’s interrupted by the sound of cracking. It ricochets through the forest, through the grasses, and silences the both of you. You turn on your heel, staring down at the dragon eggs you’ve stepped so close to.

Eris whispers your name, calm and stern, “Come over here.”

But you don’t dare move, don’t dare to breathe as you watch the delicate shells of the eggs shatter, shifting with the movement of the creatures inside. 

A green head pokes its head through blinking a few times to get its bearings. The dragon is awfully cute, bits of shell and liquid covering its tiny head as it peeks around, getting its first glimpse of the world.

It caws and leans down to nudge at its siblings. One of the other eggs rustles but the other days motionless, not yet ready to wake and enter the world. 

You want to coo at the little thing, even though you know it's probably dangerous, but its bright eyes stare up at you when it realizes its siblings aren’t far from waking. It shuffles from its shell, stumbling over big paws, adorned with razor sharp claws. It squawks at you again, bounding through the tall grass towards you, and Eris whispers your name again, his hand gentle on your lower back as he tries to usher you away. 

He’s in disbelief. A part of him didn’t think that the eggs would hatch at all, that he wouldn’t have to give the creatures to his father, to use them in the war, but there are no thoughts in his head when the dragon approaches you.

Ignoring Eris’ pleas to back away, you crouch down to its level. The green creature blinks at you again, and behind it, a black tail pops out of another shell, its arrowhead shaped bottom whipping at the shell to crack it further, impatient from being stuck inside its own shell.

The green dragon makes an impatient noise, flames sparking at its mouth as your attention is occupied. “Okay, okay, little one,” you soothe, bringing your attention back to the creature intrigued by you. You reach a hand out and Eris draws in a sharp breath. He looks like he’s ready to drag you out of the clearing but he’s already hurt you enough, and he wants you to be happy. “Welcome to the world.” 

It sniffs your hand before nuzzling into you. Your face splits in a grin, and you reach out to pet along its scaly body. It’s unlike anything you’ve seen before, and you already know that when they’re fully grown, they will be the sway in any war, let alone what side you’re on. 

Its sibling saunters over, sniffing at Eris and turning its back on him with a growl. Eris deflates a little, but there’s still one more egg waiting to hatch, and maybe it will like him. 

The black dragon sniffs your hand, eyeing you curiously, cocking its head. Maybe it can smell Azriel on your skin. You were in the Night Court yesterday. The green dragon nips at the other, and you wonder what their genders are, the grass too long for you to see. 

But Eris can tell, somehow. He’s had experience, delivering his shadowhounds’ pups, and he tells you softly, “The green one is a male, and the black, a female.” 

“They’re beautiful,” you say, completely enthralled by the two dragons before you. The green one nuzzles into you again, before catching your hand in its jaws.

You gasp as its sharp yet soft teeth break your skin. Eris swears, planting his hands on your shoulders as if to rip you away from the creature, but you stop him, planting your free hand over his own. It doesn’t hurt that badly, and it's just a curious baby, you let the dragon be.

But he’s not biting you just because he doesn’t know any better. You’re the first fae he’s seen, and he likes the smell of you, the feeling of your intentions in the air. You’d been scared, and he’d felt it inside of his egg. He knew you needed help.

He’s claiming you. 

From the jaw of the dragon, green lines crawl up your arm like blood in your veins. They wrap around your forearm and you gasp at the intricacies it winds into, creating a weave of vines that stop at your elbow. It's a unique mark, you’re his as much as he is yours.

“I think he’s just imprinted on me,” you breathe as the dragon lets go and curls around your calves. The black dragon beats its tail against the ground, uninterested in what her brother is doing, and even less interested in Eris.

“What are you going to name him?” your mate asks, eyes shining pridefully at you. He’s a little hurt that the black dragon won’t give him the time of day, but there’s still hope for the last egg, which the female dragon saunters over to, nipping at the shell to rouse its last sibling.

“Zephyr,” you answer, and you don’t even have to think about it, you know that this name belongs to your dragon. He purrs in response, brushing against you.

His sibling breaks through the shell of the last dragon, waking the golden scaled creature from its slumber. It caws in annoyance, but the female is having none of it, snapping at him to get him moving from the shell. 

The beautiful gold dragon gleams in the sun, and Eris knows immediately that this dragon belongs to him.

Much like yourself, Eris steps forward, letting the last sibling sniff at him, biting him. He feels his flames reaching out the dragon, feels them intertwining with his own power and the creature looks up at him in wonder. The marking by the dragon is similar to yours, a weaving of thin lines glinting gold like its scales from his elbow to hand, looking like a metallic spiderweb. 

When the dragon releases him, he snaps his fingers and the three dragons make noises of shock as a flame appears in his fingers. They sniff and snap at it, but Eris is focused only on the dragon that’s claimed him, “You like that, don’t you, Rory?” 

The golden dragon makes a noise in response that Eris takes as a good sign.

“Eris?” you ask, patting the Zephyrs stomach. Your mate looks at you with excitement glowing in his eyes and you soften, wondering if this will turn the tides of the war, make him change his mind about attacking the Night Court.

“Yes, fawn?” he answers, but you’re looking at the last dragon. She’s settled into the grass a few feet away, watching you both with untrusting eyes, even if her brothers have claimed you both as theirs. She hides in the shadows of the trees, and her glowing blue eyes remind you so much of the mate you have in the Night Court, with a matching set of stones lining his leathers.

It would make sense. There’s three dragons and there’s three of you, you and both of your mates. You have to ask, excitement stirring in your stomach. 

“Do you think she belongs to Azriel?”

[girlwithadragonheart]

Chapter 4 - Ashes to Ashes

This story contains major spoilers for Dragon Age the Veilguard. Read at your own discretion!!

Rook x Lucanis

Summary: Kalais has to choose to save her city or Lucanis's. Things don't end well.

Word Count: 4k

Warnings: Swearing, Mental-emotional breakdown, Kalais snaps a little

A/N: I love when I develop a character that ends up not taking any shit it's so healing

Chapter 3 DATV Masterlist Chapter 5

We met with Harding’s Warden contacts in the High Anderfels. Antoine and Evka were both very sweet and seemed like they wanted to help. They said they had noticed some things about the Blight that lined up with what we were seeing, everything the First Warden didn’t believe.

They told us about another Warden in the area who was pulled into another mission. Lucanis and I made our way to his last known location. There was a tent and a fire still halfway burning.

“Well, I’d say we found the camp.” Lucanis crouched down on the opposite side of the fire from me. “So did some darkspawn, looks like.”

“They left the fire burning,” Lucanis said.

“Were they ambushed?” Lucanis and I glanced at each other.

We heard a screech, both looking toward the sound. I crossed behind him, putting a hand on his shoulder. He rose from his crouched position behind me as I tried to find the source of the sound.

The creature screeched again, this time louder, and a ball of feathers was fiving at me, about the size of a mabari. I held my hands out, trying to keep the creature from attacking me. By description, it looked like a griffon, but that couldn’t be right. Griffons were extinct.

“Assan!” A deep voice yelled close by. I looked over seeing a handsome, dark skinned elf. The griffon pounced over to him as he walked up to us, sticking close to his side. “Easy boy.” The man smoothed a hand over his feathers.

“I’ll be damned… a griffon,” I said.

“Trouble is, he’s not sure what you are. Neither am I,” the man said.

“Rook,” I said. “Evka and Antoine sent us. We’re looking for Davrin.”

“You found him. Mind telling me why you smell like darkspawn?” He asked. “Griffons hunt darkspawn.”

“We don’t smell that bad. It’s the tent,” I explained.

“Blight? Where are Lancit and Remi?”

“The camp was empty when we got here,” I told him.

We heard a raged cry from somewhere distant. “Assan! To the trees!” Davrin commanded. “Try to keep up!” He told us.

After killing lots of darkspawn, and finding all of the griffons locked up in cages sealed with blood magic, we found what Davrin called the “Gloom Howler”. Some kind of Darkspawn, undead, bitch queen.

She got away and took the griffons with her before we could stop her.

The four of us made our way back through the eluvian and the Caretaker took us between islands in the Crossroads.

Neve, Harding, and Bellara came running toward us, looking panicked. “What’s happened?” I asked with a furrowed brow.

“The Viper just sent word. Minrathous is under attack by a blighted dragon,” Neve said.

“Has to be the one we saw at D’Meta’s Crossing,” I said.

“Well, one of them has to be,” Harding replied.

“What do you mean, “one of them”?” Lucanis questioned.

“Teia also got in touch. Another dragon is attacking Treviso, too,” Harding told him.

“Mierda,” Lucanis cursed.

“You got back just in time,” Harding said to me.

I took a breath, putting my hands on my hips. “Alright. What do we know?”

“Two dragons at once? Has to be the gods behind it,” she said.

“Teviso’s a merchant city. It has no defenses. And the canals run everywhere,” Lucanis told me. “If we don’t stop that dragon, people will die. Innocent people. My people. They either die right away, from the dragon. Or slowly after, from blight in the water. We need to go to Treviso.”

“And leave Minrathous to burn?” Neve questioned. “You’re a Shadow Dragon, Rook. You know the Viper, Tarquin, every damn Shadow… We’ll fight to the end. But people will get hurt. Or worse,” she said. “And if we fail? The Venatori will take advantage. They’ll make a push for the throne. And hand the gods the entire Tevinter Empire.”

“If we decide to—”

“Damn it! There’s no time!” Neve interrupted me. “It’s my city. Our city. I need to be in Minrathous.”

“And I must go to Treviso,” Lucanis said. “Go where you feel you must, Rook. We cannot wait.” 

Without another word, Neve and Lucanis both ran off. “What’s our move, Rook?” Harding asked.

I ran over what I knew for certain in my head. Minrathous had defenses, including the Archon Palace. I was certain that me and two others would not be able to make much of a difference against a dragon. But I did know that Treviso was already under occupation and its people wouldn’t survive without some extra aid. I also knew that as much as Neve said Minrathous was my city, I was its slave long before I was its savior.

I took a breath, my chest feeling tight with the weight of this decision. “We help Lucanis in Treviso. We have to trust that the Shadow Dragons can take care of things in Minrathous. That said… two of you should join Neve there. See if you can help. And we’ll head to Treviso.”

“Understood,” Davrin said.

“Let’s all try to make it through this alive, all right?”

I brought Davrin with me, leaving the other two to go to Minrathous with Neve. I had to trust that they would be alright. I couldn’t afford to be distracted right now, lest I risk my own hide. When we got to Treviso, the city was burning.

Davrin and I made our way through the city, killing Antaam as we went. With the dragon trying to kill everyone, I suppose they saw their chance to really take over. Or, even worse, they were working for the Gods. ‘Cause that’s what we needed. More enemies.

We ran through the courtyard, seeing Lucanis and Teia up ahead. Lucanis looked so relieved to see us. “Rook! You’re just in time. Where the dragon attacks, the Antaam soon follow.”

“It is strong and fast. You must get its attention, then lure it onto the ground,” Teia said, hands on her hips.

“We’ll figure out a way,” I said, mimicking her stance.

“Draw up your courage,” she said. “We will need it.”

We took up position in the field, Davrin on my right and Lucanis on my left. Ghilan’nain, the horrible beast that she now was, all tentacles and no heart, demanded the dagger from me and said that Treviso offered nothing more than a pawn for Elgar’nan. She clearly couldn’t see the beauty it held.

She sent the dragon after us to retrieve the dagger. Most of my time was spent dodging blows as I tried to keep it off the other two, allowing them to actually hit it.

Enough of my panic built up, that I was able to aim some of it back at the dragon in the form of lightning and fire, beamed directly at its heart. Before we could bring it down, Ghilan’nain called it away, saying she had need of it elsewhere.

“You fought it off!” Teia ran over to us.

Lucanis clutched at a wound on his leg as he limped over to us. “If Ghilan’nain hadn’t called it away…”

“It’s more important that it stopped attacking the city,” I told him, casting a worried glance at the blood staining him.

“Everyone with a home that still stands will agree,” Teia said.

“That thing was tough. It’ll be hard to put down for good,” I sighed.

“What happened to Treviso would’ve been worse if you hadn’t arrived when you did. I cannot imagine how much worse,” Lucanis said looking at me gratefully.

“Still have to help with that dragon in Minrathous,” Davrin said.

“Let’s go,” I said.

—-------------------------------------

Minrathous was covered in Blight by the time we reached it. The streets were crawling with darkspawn and buildings were on fire. Even as I knew I made the right choice, it hurt to see this place like this. I had more bad memories here than good ones, but the good ones outweighed the negative. This was where I met Varric, after all.

We found Neve and Tarquin huddled around Ashur who was on a table, looking miserable and wounded.

“We’re here. What’s the situation?” I asked.

“Where were you?” Neve demanded.

“Treviso. The dragon—”

“This is your city! I thought—”

“My city?!” I almost laughed in her face. “You mean the city I was enslaved to? You mean the city that showed me and other people like me no kindness? The city that’s been corrupted since the beginning of Thedas?”

“And because we were busy fighting the bigger evil, the Venatori took large parts of the city!” She yelled. “We lost people. And Ashur…”

“I’m fine,” he grunted. “She’s right.”

“You are not fine,” Tarquin said, standing. “He took a claw to the gut. A claw from a blighted dragon. Think about that,” he said to me.

“The blight’s in his blood. But that means…” All my fire was gone, and I was just exhausted.

“A slow death,” Neve finished. 

“You’ve brought nothing but trouble since you came back,” Tarquin growled.

My brows furrowed, pained and hurt. Dorian led me to them and all I did was fuck everything up. Lucanis stepped closer, almost protectively.

“It’s not Rook’s fault,” Ashur said. “I chose to engage it.”

“Because it was going for a safe house! Because half of us were already dead!” Tarquin shouted.

“Do you honestly think one more fucking person would’ve changed the outcome?” I questioned.

Tarquin spun on me. “No, but maybe you would be dying instead of him.”

I physically recoiled from the hatred in his eyes, my gut twisting with nausea. I bumped into Lucanis, and he steadied me with a hand on my waist.

“Just go. There’s nothing you can do here,” Neve said, looking over at Ashur.

—-------------------------------

I stumbled through the eluvian in the lighthouse, clutching my chest. My stomach churned, and I thought I might throw up.

“Rook!” I heard Bellara behind me, but I didn’t stop, heading straight through the hall and up the stairs. I couldn’t do this, I couldn’t lead, I wasn’t cut out for it.

I let my feet guide me and before I knew it, I was in the infirmary. Varric looked alarmed as I collapsed to my knees beside his bed, tears rolling down my cheeks. “I fucked up,” I whimpered. “I fucked up, Varric.”

“Hey, hey, hey, kid, take a breath.” He shifted, and I felt his warm hand on my shoulder, gripping me just tight enough to bring me back to reality. “What happened?”

“Minrathous---” I started, getting cut off by a sob. “Minrathous is burning. They took it- The gods took it, and Neve…” My body shook, wracked with sobs as I tried to breathe. “She’s so mad. I don’t think she’s coming back, Varric.” I looked up at him with bleary eyes.

He moved, sliding to the edge of the bed until I was between his legs, and he pulled me into his chest. “Easy, kid.” He had one arm tight around my shoulders, his other hand smoothing my hair. “You can’t save everyone. That’s the life.”

“Neve trusted me. She trusted me and Minrathous is burning now,” I whimpered, squeezing my eyes shut and trying to suck up the warmth he was giving me. It was so hard to breathe.

“You made a decision based on what limited knowledge you had,” Varric said. “No one can ask any more of you than that. Neve will come back around. Give her time.”

“We don’t have time, Varric,” I said desperately.

“So keep moving forward. That’s what you do, Rook. That’s what you’ve always done,” he said. “She’ll either come around or she won’t. But you can’t afford to spend what little time you have regretting your choices. Let me ask you something: Do you regret the choice you made? Or just Neve?”

I felt silent in contemplation. “I made the right choice,” I said carefully. “Treviso has no defenses, and it’s under occupation by the Antaam. I couldn’t have changed the outcome in Minrathous.” I had to believe that, if nothing else.

Varric squeezed my shoulder, and I pulled back, looking up at him. He smiled with that softness in his eyes that was just reserved for me. He put his thumb and forefinger under my chin so I looked at him. “Then you did the right thing,” he said simply. Carefully, he used his thumbs to wipe my face of tears. “Cheer up, kid. The night may be long, but it isn’t all dark.”

I heard what he said and what he didn’t. Minrathous was doomed to fall some day. We had been fighting a losing battle regardless, much as I hated to leave behind the people there. Half of them were under Venatori control, and the other half were too helpless to fight against it.

“Chin up, Rook. I think the others need you,” he told me.

I nodded, sniffling and wiping the remainder of my tears from my chin and jaw. “I need to talk to Solas.”

“If Chuckles pisses you off too much, hit him for me,” he said as he slid back up to the wall.

I couldn’t help but laugh a bit, shaking my head as I left.

---------------------------------------

“When last we spoke, you were hunting for followers of Elgar’nan and Ghilan’nain in hopes of finding “specifics”. Has your search been successful?” Solas asked.

“You could say that. It looks like both the Venatori and the Antaam are working for Elgar’nan and Ghilan’nain,” I told him.

“Unsurprising. The Venatori want magical secrets, and the Antaam want to destroy anyone opposing their brutal expansion. Both will readily bow to anyone who promises them power.”

“It’s more than a promise this time. The Antaam and the Venatori both have dragons doing their bidding.”

“Dragons?” He said surprised. “That is worse than I had feared.”

“Yeah. We drove off the one the Antaam brought to Treviso—barely,” I crossed my arms.

“Have you determined how the dragons are being directed? If it is blood magic, it may be possible to disrupt their control.”

“The dragons are blighted. We think that’s what let the gods control them.”

“The blight. Of course.”

“The blight seems to be the gods’ favored tool right now. We ran into Venatori who could control darkspawn,” I said.

“Elgar’nan would not bestow such power unless the darkspawn were to serve as the main force of his army. And I suspect Ghilan’nain will see the darkspawn as new subjects for her… modifications.”

“We’ve already run into a few darkspawn nobody has seen before. That’s in addition to the blighted dragons.”

“That is the fate Elgar’nan and Ghilan’nain plan for this world, then. Corruption and blighted slavery,” Solas said, hands clasped behind his back.

“Right… Everyone should be free and uncorrupted when your demons and raw magic kill them,” I narrowed my eyes at him.

“Do you truly believe my goal was to destroy this world?” He asked.

“I believe you’re ‘goal’, like you said, was to transfer the gods to a better prison—the one you’re stuck in now. And you were willing to tear down the Veil and destroy with world while you did so,” I spat.

“The Veil is a wound I cut into the Fade in a moment of desperation while aking their prison. It should not exist. I had a host of spirits ready to help when the Veil fell. They would have minimized the loss of life.”

“Do you have any idea what you sound like? You could’ve actually saved the world from the blight, but instead you chose to kill thousands of people with your vanity project!” I shouted.

“It is not vanity! I broke this world. I am the only one who can fix it!”

His shouting didn’t faze me with the huge ravine and the Fade between us. “Spoken like a god,” I said with all the contempt I felt.

“I am not a god! I am as I have always been: a man, all too aware of his failings… But equally aware that if he did not act, accepting the judgment it would bring, all would be lost. They called me the Dread Wolf. What will they call you, when this is over?” He wondered.

“I don’t care what they call me. If they’re calling me anything, it means they’re still alive. That’s all that matters.”

“Acceptance. You are willing to face the consequences your actions may one day bring, because the world needs you. I believe I can work with that.” He smiled, though it felt anything but sincere. “If the gods are using dragons, you will wish to find someone trained to fight them. Have you unlocked the lighthouse eluvian?”

“Yes. We found the Crossroads. It’s still confusing, though.”

“I cannot help you from in here. You may need to find an expert in the magic of the Fade. And if the Darkspawn are to be Elgar’nan’s army, you will need Grey Wardens to fight them.”

“I’ve got a few of them. Their leaders don’t trust me right now, though.”

“I have faith in you, Rook,” Solas said. “You seem to have a knack for gaining the cooperation of your adversaries.”

---------------------------------------

I woke up in a cold sweat---as I often did these days---to someone thumping against my door. I moved over to it quickly, brows furrowing. When I opened it, I had to catch Lucanis. He was struggling to stand, but when he spoke, it was Spite coming through his teeth.

“The idiot is still bleeding. Help him.”

“Walk with me,” I supported him with his arm over my shoulders, and I led him to my chaise lounge. When he sat, the purple glow from Lucanis’s eyes was gone, and he slumped, unconscious. “Fenedhis.”

I could see the blood seeping through the bandage on his leg, staining his loungewear dark red.

“Gods dammit, Lucanis,” I grumbled. I looked up at his unconscious form, regretting what I was about to do before I could even do it. I reached for the buttons on his pants, undoing them and pulling them down to his knees, keeping my eyes on the bandaged wound.

My fingers fumbled with the knot before finally getting it undone, unraveling it, lifting his boot onto my knee to pull the bandage from under his leg. When I got to the wound, I looked at it with furrowed brows. It looked like there was a piece of jagged rock stuck in there, which would explain why it didn’t clot properly.

I sighed, hovering my hand over the wound and pulling the piece of shrapnel with my magic. Lucanis winced. “Sorry. I’m sorry,” I whispered, putting just a bit more power until it flew up and smacked my palm. I set it with the bandages next to him. “Nasty little thing.”

Carefully, I held my hand over the wound again, pushing warmth into it and watching it seal closed beneath my magic. When it was healed, I stood, moving to my wardrobe for a fresh cloth to clean the blood up on his leg.

Before I came back around, I heard a startled grunt from Lucanis. His chest seized, staring at the wall of the aquarium across from him. I internally panicked, realizing he spent a year in the bottom of the ocean tortured.

I moved around the chaise with the cloth, putting myself into his direct line of sight. He looked up at me with wide brown eyes. “Rook?”

Slowly, he loosed a breath, looking around. “Hey, it’s alright. We’re in my room. Spite brought you here because of your wound.” I knelt down in front of him again, starting to mop up his blood.

“Of course he did,” he grumbled, looking down at his lap. He cleared his throat. “Isn’t it customary to ask before removing a man’s clothes?”

I rolled my eyes, hitting him with the cloth. “Well, I’m glad you’re feeling better. Well enough to clean yourself.” I stood, throwing the cloth at him.

He caught my wrist as I turned away. “Vuelve mi pequeña polilla, I meant nothing by it.”

My cheeks warmed as he crooned in his native language, and I was pulled back to my knees in front of him, resuming to clean his wound. “You had quite a nasty cut. This was keeping it from closing.” I picked up the piece of jagged rock. 

“Mierda,” he cursed, taking it to inspect it. “I wondered.”

“You would be lost without me,” I teased, wiping my hands on the cloth.

“You have no idea,” he muttered.

“I hope the next time we’re like this it’s not because you’re bleeding out,” I grinned, standing and collecting the dirty bandages to dispose of them. I saw Lucanis’s cheeks flush, and I smiled to myself as I left the room to avoid embarrassing him further. I was sure the last thing he wanted was for me to see him indecent and turned on.

❈❈❈

Lucanis pinched the bridge of his nose, looking up at the dancing reflections of water on the ceiling. It was bad enough that he had awoken half naked in a place of his nightmares. But then a complete one-eighty occurred, and he had the woman of his dreams kneeling in front of him with those mismatched eyes and warm smile.

Spite had brought him here, of course he had. And Kalais had just taken care of him like it didn’t take a second thought. And the things she said, mierda, he wished she would stop trailing him like a moth to a flame. It was dangerous, and it wouldn’t end well for either of them. Spite was Lucanis’s only future. To hope for anything else was futile.

Of course that didn’t stop all blood from running southward when she hinted at something more. Something unattainable, something beyond his imagination. Something impossible, and yet all too good for him anyway.

“She. Wants. You!” Spite growled in his ear. “We want. To taste her!” 

“Enough, Spite,” Lucanis said, standing and buttoning his pants. He didn’t look at the demon. He wouldn’t give him the satisfaction.

“We. Want. Rook! Why?” he questioned.

Lucanis sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose. “I don’t know why you want Rook. Possibly because she’s the only one who’s kind to you, though I can’t figure out why,” he muttered.

“No! You want her,” he said. “Her touch. Soft. Her hair silk. Her breath warm! Her lips. What do they taste like?”

“Enough!” He snapped. “She is not ours to have.”

❈❈❈

We all met around the fire in the dining hall. I filled everyone in on what Solas had said.

“So this elven god thinks we need a dragon hunter and a Fade expert?” Lucanis asked.

“He’s right about the dragon hunter, at least,” Harding said. “The Shadow Dragons did all the could. The dragon was just too much.” I frowned, staring into the fire. “The moment the dust settled? The Venatori rushed in. Guess they knew it was coming.”

My chest suddenly felt tight again.

“Neve’s staying for now. She said she’ll be back soon, but… At least you took care of yours,” Harding said to me.

“We hurt it, but didn’t kill it. The dragon flew off before we could put it down,” I said.

“Treviso could have used a dragon hunter. That much is true,” Lucanis said.

“Don’t remind me. Fewer people injured, and we wouldn’t have to worry about it coming back.” My brow furrowed, and I crossed my arms over my stomach.

“We shouldn’t forget about Minrathous, either. We need to do what we can to help. Though there’s no telling how long Neve will be helping the Shadow Dragons…” Lucanis added.

“Hey, let’s not get stuck in our regrets, all right?” Varric came hobbling over.

“Hang on a minute,” Davrin interrupted. “Not only have you retained the services of a demon assassin, you’re also taking advice from the elven god who attempted to tear down the Veil.”

“Spite is my problem,” Lucanis said defensively.

“That’s what they always say,” Davrin retorted. “Rook, Lucanis is one thing, but do you really trust this Solas?” He asked.

“Trust is such a strong word, you know?”

“So you don’t trust him.”

“Ehhh.”

“All right then.”

Harding said she would ask around about Dragon Hunters, and Bellara said she would get a message through to a Fade expert immediately.

“See, Rook? Nothing to worry about,” Varric said.

“All right. We all know what to do. Let’s get going,” I said to dismiss them.

------------------------------------------------------------------------------

A/N: I hope you enjoyed! Let me know if you want to be added to the tag list

Have a good day/night!

Tagged: @colombia-chan @bleummie

[roguegambitweek]

Legacy

A few of our prompts this year make specific reference to the comics. We know that not everyone has read the comics (there are a lot of X-Men comics out there) and we don’t want anyone to feel left out.

So, without further ado… Legacy.

First, as the prompt is written, you can create your fanworks around the concept of legacy—of what a person leaves behind, their long lasting impact on the world. This could be children, inspiration, etc. Or, it could even be a meta exploration about Rogue and Gambit’s impact on comics, the X-Men, or any other medium they’re in. Feel free to play with this concept of legacy.

Now, if you’re interested in the character of Legacy, read on.

In 2011, there was a X-Men Legacy/New Mutants crossover event called ‘Age of X.’ In this bubble, alt-universe, dystopian world, Rogue goes by Legacy.

As Legacy, she’s present whenever another Mutant dies. She absorbs them, preserving their memories and, in a way, memorializing their lives. Because she mostly appears when Mutants die (and there are quite a few deaths since they are being hunted to extinction), other Mutants begin associating her with death. They call her Reaper, a name which she despises and continually asks them to not to call her that. Due to various reasons, Legacy spends most of her time alone, or sequestered in the Fortress.

This is a lonely existence for Legacy. And here enters our hero.

Gambit does go by Gambit, although he uses a long rifle instead of cards. One of the first times Legacy and Gambit meet, he calls her Legacy (her preferred name). When she asks him why he is helping her, he proclaims, “I don’t even know, chère. I saw you fighting, is all. And I knew what side of the fight I wanted to be on.”

Anyways, they go on a quest together to discover the truth behind the contradictions of their dying world, share a few romantic moments, and are willing to lay down their lives for each other. Even though they just met, they work together like they’ve been partners their entire lives. Truly, Romy are the OTP across the Multiverse.

In the end, they save the day and everyone is returns to the regular 616 universe. Most participants in this bubble world choose to forget about it, but Rogue retains Legacy’s memories.

The entirety of Legacy’s appearances occur in the AoX arc and for once, it is relatively achievable to read the entire crossover. Below is the reading with the essential Romy moments bolded.

Reading list in Order:

Age of X Alpha

Chapter 1 - X-Men: Legacy (2011) - issue 245

Chapter 2 - New Mutant, issue 22

Chapter 3 - X-Men: Legacy issue 246

Chapter 4 - New Mutants (2011), issue 23

Age of X Universe #1

Chapter 5 - X-Men: Legacy, issue 247

Chapter 6 - New Mutants, issue 24

Age of X Universe #2

X-Men Legacy, 248, Age of X Aftermath (Just stop reading after the ‘home and harbor’ speech)

[jumpywhumpywriter]

Gruff Injured Whumpee Refusing Help

Warnings: ungrateful/harsh whumpee, blood and severe injury, reluctant caretaking

This is another small clip from my in-progress fantasy trilogy starring the gruff, independent and deadly Shadow with her white wings and snarky attitude. This particular scene takes place very early on in her rocky alliance with Thomas the human, where she doesn't trust him at all and is only in the alliance for her own gain. She's still mostly feral and unpredictable at this time, with a lot more bite than bark. But she is badly injured in an accident, and who else happens to show up but Thomas, the last person she wants to see when she's weak and vulnerable. She hates humans, given her tragic past involving them hunting her race to near-extinction, and she automatically distrusts Thomas because of her experience with humans in the past. And now here she is, unable to defend herself if Thomas chooses to attack her...

Thomas had barely rounded the corner of the street that led to Shadow's favorite hiding place in the abandoned building where he first met her, when a strange movement caught his attention.

   "What on earth--?" Horrified, he saw Shadow's winged form clawing her way up the outside of the building to the second level, leaving a fresh trail of blood behind her that was illuminated by the streetlights nearby.

   Thomas immediately rushed into the abandoned building without a second thought, his feet flying up the stairs to the second story before he even realized what he was doing.

   Please be all right... he thought in a panic. Just as he threw open the nearly-unusable broken wood door, Shadow dragged herself through the open window and flopped onto the floor.

   "Hhhhnnnn..." She groaned as she brought herself to a sitting position.

   "Shadow!" Thomas raced to her side. She was haggard and gasping, but conscious. Blood matted in the white feathers of her wings, dyeing them an eerie red. She startled as he dropped to the floor next to her, instantly snapping to alertness. She looked up at him and her face went slack with recognition and shock.

   "What on earth are you doing here, kid?"

   "Is that really the most important thing to talk about right now!?" Thomas squeaked.

   Shadow spat a mouthful of blood onto the floor and glared at him, regaining some of her usual gruff composure, initial surprise dissolving into irritation.

   "I'll be fine. Why were you lurking, urgh, around this place to begin with?"

   "I was coming to give you some new information on Jackal when I saw you climbing up the outside of the building!" Thomas sputtered hastily. He moved closer, and unexpectedly, Shadow flinched away, one enormous wing wrapping around herself protectively. Without even thinking, Thomas reached out to gingerly touch her and inspect the damage, but she batted his hand away. Then she hissed and clutched at her arm, which was bloody and mangled.

   "Don’t touch me. I don't need your help, human!" she snarled. But behind the many layers of anger in her eyes, Thomas could see panic and terror setting in. Fear that was driving her actions. And that fear, oddly, was directed towards him. The way she was watching and tracking his movements with her eyes was unmistakable…

   She’s… she’s actually afraid of me, he realized with a jolt. I’ve never seen her scared of anything before… but why me?

   He didn’t have time to entertain the thought for long.

   "You look like you were attacked. Who did this? Where have you been?" he demanded.

   Shadow grimaced, holding her wounded arm close. Her breathing was labored, and she gritted her teeth with the effort to talk. "It was stupid, really... I was traveling through an old alley when those Jackal soldiers came out of nowhere and ambushed me..." She trailed off.

   "Should I go fetch some bandages for you? Maybe I should get Tanner to help…?" Thomas asked worriedly, considering his options.

   Shadow's eyes narrowed hatefully at him. "What you should do is leave. Go away and forget you saw any of this.”

   "And let you bleed out on the floor, all alone?" He scoffed in disbelief.

   "The bleeding will stop eventually. No need to dirty your hands with it," Shadow grunted.

   Thomas frowned, stubbornly reaching out again in another attempt to closer examine the worst of her injuries. Shadow immediately shifted out of reach and let out a low growl in warning, baring her fangs at him, muscles coiled like a snake about to strike, her wings flaring open. "What are you doing?" she snapped.

   "Trying to help. You're hurting," Thomas replied simply, hoping that being straightforward would be the answer to getting through her defenses.

   “Ugh! Take your pity and shove it right back in your mouth, human!” she spat viciously with a hiss. “I don’t need nor want it!”

   He winced at the sharpness of her words, but underneath it, he could hear the excruciating pain in her voice. “Whoa! I was just trying to be nice!” he blurted defensively, raising his hands innocently.

   “Did I ever ask you to!?” She glared at him suspiciously, her eyes full of heavily guarded distrust. "Why do you care, anyway?"

   "I..." Thomas didn't know how to answer.

   Shadow studied him for a long, silent moment, then tore her gaze away. "I can tend to my own wounds just fine. By myself. Go back to your lab and bury your head in some stupid computer or something. Just… leave me alone, human." She let out a weary sigh, her harsh tone falling off at the end, and he could sense the peak of her fury starting to level off into pure exhaustion.

   Thomas closed his eyes, weighing the options, and when he opened them again, they were filled with renewed determination and resolve, his mind made up.

   "I'm not going anywhere," he said calmly. Shadow's piercing blue eyes bore into him, fierce as ever at his defiance, but she was currently in no state to do anything about it, too badly injured to fight back. And they both knew it.

   "I won't leave you like this. Let me at least bandage that arm," he added softly, trying to make himself appear as non-threatening as he could.

   A few long, tense moments of charged silence passed between them, a dangerous staredown, until Shadow let out an explosive, frustrated sigh, quickly realizing there was no way out of the situation, and nodded sharply to an old box in the corner of the rugged room, reluctantly rolling back the sleeve of her shredded black leather jacket to expose her injured arm.

   "Ugh, you obstinate, pesky human. So bothersome. Fine. That chest over there," she snapped viciously.

   In the chest, Thomas found a pitcher of cold water and some old, clean linens and medical wrap. Frowning, he returned to Shadow. "It seems that you were prepared. Does this happen often?"

   She made no sound, just furrowed her brow as he poured the water over her wounded arm to clear away the blood. Her guard was still visibly up, but at least she was accepting the offered help now. It was a good start.

   "Often enough," Shadow finally replied grumpily. She watched, almost mildly curious, as Thomas gently cleaned the grit and embedded pebbles from her arm, taking great care not to jostle it.

   "Where did you learn to do this?" She asked absent-mindedly.

   "Some of it came from Tanner, but from my brother, mostly. Our dad was a war veteran, and had some basic on-field medical training that he showed to Lucas, who then taught me in turn. I didn't know what he was talking about half of the time, but I still picked up a few of the skills here and there..." Thomas trailed off as Shadow suddenly clenched her jaw as he removed a particularly large, sharp stone from the flesh.

   "Rrrnnghh," she growled quietly.

   "Yeah, sorry about that..." Thomas felt a twinge of sympathy for her. He was viscerally aware of Shadow's dark gaze warily following every last one of his moves as he worked, cleaning dirt and grit from the injury with the wet cloth, until it was completely free of it, before wrapping it up in some bandages. Her body sagged for a brief moment against the wall from the great relief it brought.

   "I'm sorry. At least that part's done,” Thomas said apologetically, shifting his attention elsewhere. “Now for the rest of these.”

   Shadow instantly straightened, tense once more, and fidgeted in annoyance as he moved on to examine the numerous smaller bloody gashes on her neck and upper chest, across her collarbone, which was just barely uncovered from her leather suit.

   "Can you just sit still, for like, ten seconds?" Thomas huffed hotly. She kept twitching nervously every time he came anywhere near her, like she expected a full-on attack at any moment. He had never seen her look so on-edge before. And that was saying a lot, considering Shadow was naturally the most skittish person he’s ever come across.

   He wet another clean piece of linen and gently dabbed at the blood on her shoulder. She inhaled sharply and flinched away from the contact.

   "There's no need to worry yourself over the small little things like that... you've already tended my arm. I can handle the rest," Shadow grunted irritability. “You can go away now. I’m sure you have far better things to do with your time.”

   "I'm already here. Just let me finish. And that doesn't worry me," Thomas said reassuringly. It was only then that he noticed the bloody smear on the wooden wall behind her. "But that does. Geez, you're wounded everywhere. Did you fall through a glass window or something?"

   "It's entirely possible," she admitted grimly. “I crashed pretty hard when I was shot out of the air.”

   Thomas gently eased her forward, frowning. A great wound had slashed open the flesh between her wings, larger than the rest, leaving skin and feathers sticky with warm blood.

   "Ouch. That looks deep. And I thought your arm was bad." He laughed nervously at his attempted joke, but quickly silenced himself after catching her cold glare. "I need a closer look. Can you move your, um..."

   Despite the agonizing pain she was in, Shadow rolled her eyes, but gingerly tucked one white wing out of the way so he could reach the bare skin of her back. The leather jacket had a large hole torn into it from where the injury had been made.

   "It looks like it's mostly stopped bleeding at least, but it's a pretty messy wound," Thomas admitted. He felt ever so slightly nauseated at the sight of it, and he didn't usually feel queasy about much.

   "I've survived worse," Shadow replied blandly. She blinked at him, looking stunned, like she couldn’t wrap her head around his gentle words and actions being directed at her.

   Thomas worked in silence to clean the injury, dipping his cloth into the water over and over until it had turned a murky red and the quiet had grown unbearable. Discomfort and tension radiated from Shadow palpably. 

   Thomas couldn't resist some gentle teasing, trying to put her at ease. "It's like trying to bathe a cat that hates water. I feel like I might get torn to shreds at any moment," he chuckled.

   "And yet you refuse to do the sensible thing and run," Shadow retorted sourly.

   "Well, you haven't scratched me yet, so that's a plus."

   "If there's one thing I've learned about you, Thomas, it's that you never know when to run from danger," she groaned in exasperation.

   "I hardly think you're dangerous in this state." Thomas offered her a small smile, though his internal dialogue was far less confident-sounding. He had zero doubt that she could absolutely kill or maim him at any given moment, even injured as she was. He wondered if he should be watching more carefully just in case she did decide to turn on him. After all, he’d seen firsthand that she was the kind of person with both bark and bite.

   But there was also a small part of him that oddly trusted she wouldn’t intentionally try to harm him, at least not right in this moment, even though he didn’t know why.

   "I--Hssss." Shadow sucked in a breath and shuddered as he pressed the wet cloth against the side of her neck.

   Thomas suddenly noticed some of the smaller scrapes and cuts on her neck had already begun to heal over, leaving but the tiniest of scars in their wake.

   "Whoa..." He breathed in amazement.

   "Is something wrong? What now?" Shadow asked, sensing his pause.

   "You... you heal so fast!" Thomas's voice was full of wonder.

   Shadow shrugged impassively. "Indeed, Falkry heal much quicker than you humans do. Most of my smaller injuries will be gone by morning."

   "That's incredible! I've never seen anything like it!" Thomas gawked.

   "Yeah, too bad it still hurts all the same though," Shadow groaned, lacking his enthusiasm.

   Thomas glanced over at her face for a brief second. There was such great pain in her eyes, far more than he could ease. Though she hid them well, he could see the ghosts of older wounds circling there. The kind that weren’t visible on the surface. He looked down and continued to work but after a few moments, he could feel her staring at him.

   "What is it?" He asked cautiously.

   "You don't need to concentrate so hard. The rest are only little scratches."

   "I'm focusing on trying not to hurt you," Thomas said pointedly, patience thinning.

   Shadow scoffed. "Hilarious. Look at me. You really think a washcloth and some cold water could do any worse?" She laughed bitterly, then winced at the pain it cost her. Thomas had to bite his tongue hard to avoid making a snappy remark in return, knowing it would only make things worse.

   I'd be pretty short-tempered too, if I were in her situation, he thought sadly to himself.

   "Here. Almost finished." He pressed one last bandage against her side, where a long gash had engraved itself. She gritted her teeth and shivered beneath his touch, enduring it in silence.

   "So... Do you want to tell me how Jackal managed to ambush you?" Thomas asked quietly, trying to distract from his own nervousness.

   "No. I don’t.”

   Thomas fixed her with a stern gaze.

   With an exasperated eye roll, she scoffed and relented, to his great surprise.

   "Very well. I usually like to stick close to dark alleyways for cover, but as I was traveling through my usual route to get back here to my hiding place, I came across a small squad of around ten to fifteen Jackal soldiers who appeared to be halfway through setting up a trap for me when I appeared. They were just as surprised to see me as I was them. They attacked and I obviously fought back, but unfortunately they had the advantage of both numbers and firepower. I held my own for the most part, but one of them managed to strike me down as I fled. Honestly, I didn't think I'd be able to make it all the way back here without them catching up to me and taking me back to their base for whatever messed-up experiments, but I guess they chose to stay behind and help their wounded. I did quite a number on their group. What I really want to know, though, is how they knew I would be passing through there in the first place. I don't like being predictable." Shadow shifted her weight into a more comfortable position, still propped up against the wall.

   "I'll admit, they got me pretty good... but I'll survive." She coughed weakly.

   Inexplicably, Thomas felt tears pricking at his eyes, the reality of the situation finally hitting him hard in the chest.

   Shadow glanced up in confusion, hearing the sniffle he tried to hide. "Really? You're going to get all sappy now? I don't need your pity, you know," she rasped angrily. "This is simply what war looks like, kid. That's all there is to it."

   "It's just... what they did to you... it's just so awfully... horrific. I don't know how someone can be so heartless." Thomas struggled to find the words, his eyes taking in her broken body, mangled and covered in many bloody injuries. Shadow's head tilted toward him with an unreadable expression, becoming curiously still. 

   "Interesting. You... are not like most others I've met..." When she spoke, her voice was softer, lacking its usual harshness. "I can never quite figure you out..."

   Now it was Thomas's turn to be confused. "What do you mean by that?"

   "I've only ever known humans to have a large capacity for evil and cruelty... so I always assumed that all of them were the same. But you always somehow manage to surprise me with the unexpected… I can’t seem to understand your motives…" She fixed him in a studious, calculating stare, as if trying to read something from the depths of his soul, and shifted infinitesimally closer. For a moment, her blue eyes seemed to have some life to them. Something less than the hatred they always boasted. Then she abandoned the effort and her expression flickered, and the cold mask fell back into place again. She shook her head and leaned back with a heavy sigh.

   "Nevermind. None of that matters. You can leave now. I'll meet you back at your lab later and you can tell me your new information about Jackal then. I'll just rest here for a while while I finish healing."

   "Are you sure you'll be alright on your own?" Thomas asked in concern.

   "Yes! Of course I will be--er, just... go, please. I'd rather be alone right now." Shadow visibly reigned in her temper at the last moment, with visible effort. Her eyes went out of focus for a moment, and she was obviously fighting fiercely with everything she had to stay conscious, the adrenaline now having almost completely worn off, leaving her battered body utterly exhausted. She was clearly not comfortable letting her guard down even the slightest bit while he was around.

   Thomas reluctantly retreated to the staircase, pausing only to glance back at her still form one last time before he left, before making the long trip back to his lab with a heavy heart, his mind swamped with terrible thoughts.

   By the time he reached his destination, it was a little after midnight, and his legs were so tired he almost thought he wouldn't be able to make it to his bedroom. He flopped down into his bed without even bothering to change his clothes, and sleep quickly overtook him.

   Tanner arched an eyebrow as Thomas stormed into the main room of the lab early the next day and shut a door with much more force than necessary.

   "Something wrong?"

   "I'm just... so... frustrated," Thomas growled through gritted teeth.

   "Something to do with Shadow, I presume? She has a habit of doing that to people," Tanner joked.

   "I found her last night, badly injured, and when I tried to help..."

   "Let me guess. She pushed you away?" Tanner massaged his temples with his forefingers, appearing entirely unsurprised.

   "It's not just that, though. She acted as though I was annoying her. It's like she doesn't want anyone to even sympathize with her." Thomas let his irritation bubble to the surface.

   Tanner fixed him in a soft, knowing gaze. "I've often seen Shadow limping her way home or with mysterious scratches an odd morning or two. It was good of you to try, Thomas, but Shadow is, sadly, used to tending to her own wounds."

   "I just don't understand why she has to be so closed off all the time! You said I should try to get along with her while we're working together on finding my brother and beating Jackal, but every time I think I've made some progress, she pulls away again. Everything I try only seems to push her further away," Thomas said angrily. Tanner just let out a long sigh.

   "Shadow is definitely wary of trusting others, and that trust is extremely hard-earned in the rare event that it is given... but I believe the fact that she even allowed you to see her injured is proof that you have made progress. She really doesn't like feeling weak or vulnerable, especially around humans, given her dark history with them. Unable to defend herself, in simpler words. Survival instincts and all. By letting you help, though, she was allowing you to see that weakness openly. I’d say it’s a good start."

   “Well, I didn’t really make it much of a choice for her…” Thomas muttered.

   Tanner patted him on the back reassuringly and offered an encouraging smile. "Try not to take it too personally. She's been through a lot of pain and grief in life. It'll take time for her to come around, but I have faith it will happen eventually. You just have to be patient with her, even when it's the most difficult thing in the world to do."

   Thomas let his shoulders sag. "Yeah, I suppose that makes sense... Speaking of which, have you seen her at all today?"

   Tanner's face dropped, and he shared a concerned look with him. "Actually, no, I haven't."

   Was leaving her by herself a mistake? Thomas thought quietly, feeling an uneasy nervousness creep into his mind. As if on cue, however, they both heard a loud clattering in a different room of the lab, followed by agitated cursing.

   "Stupid thing..."

   Thomas let out a relieved breath, knowing exactly who he would find. He followed the sound and his suspicions were confirmed when Shadow's unmistakable white wings came into view. 

   She was attempting to put some of her choice weapons back into her drawstring bag for storage, but was having a hard time due to her arm still being injured. The smaller cuts had largely disappeared, leaving only minor scars in their wake, but the more significant wounds still remained, albeit smaller than before.

   Thomas scooped up a fallen dagger still in its sheath from the floor, offering it to her as he approached. Shadow noticed his presence and snatched the weapon from his extended hand with a scowl.

   "Wow, this looks even worse in the light," he teased lightly. Her scowl deepened, but she didn't retort as he had expected, which he found deeply surprising. She just shoved the last of her gear into the bag and swung it over her shoulder, limping out of the room without saying a word. Tanner caught up to Thomas, gazing after her as she left.

   "Yikes. I know you said it was pretty bad, but I think that might have been a bit of an understatement, no?" He said jokingly, in an obvious effort to lighten the mood. "I'm somewhat surprised to see that she didn't use her magic to finish healing faster."

   Thomas cast him a sideways look. "What do you mean? She mentioned that Falkry heal faster than humans... is that what you are referring to?"

   Tanner shook his head. "No. It is true that a Falkry naturally heals faster than a human, but they can also choose to use some of their own magic, if they have the strength for it, to heal even faster than that."

   "Oh. I didn't know that..."

   "Although, she likely sees healing himself as a waste of magic when it will happen anyway, considering her wounds are not life-threatening at the moment. That probably answers it," Tanner continued, stroking his chin thoughtfully.

   "That's not a good reason to just sit around and suffer!" Thomas said, gaping in disbelief.

   "I know... but she's distanced herself from the world so much, that she no longer feels the way we do. So I think part of her simply wishes to hold onto any sensation she can. Even the bad ones like pain."

Wow... that sounds like a pretty miserable existence... Thomas thought sadly.

@scoundrelwithboba @lumpofsand @isikedmyself878 @iamheretohurt @fleur-a-whump

@ay5ksal @otterfrost @sausages-things @togzy

@whump-till-ya-jump @cravesunconditionallove @whumpwritinglover222

[thebrightestwitchofherage]

Key terms necessary for understanding the Israeli-Palestinian conflict : Part 1- Ancient Israel to the founding of modern Israel, Jewish terms

A/N: Hey! The results are in, and this is the topic my followers chose🫶 Writing this felt very much like retaking my high school history finals lol. Enjoy reading.

*These terms and definitions will be organized by topics, in chronological order. **If I have made a mistake or if you feel like I forgot something important- don’t hesitate to tell me in the comments. It is very hard to summarize thousands of years. *** Be respectful, I am human.

1. Key terms in Judaism and the connection to the land of Israel :

Israel and Judea- Were the two ancient Jewish kingdoms.

Zion ציון- Is one of the 70 biblical names for the city of Jerusalem. In fact, Jerusalem is referenced by this name in the bible over 150 times.

The word Zion is very much embedded into our culture: it is used in many prayers and Jewish texts written throughout Jewish history, songs etc.

Zion and the exile from it:

It is especially used when describing longing and the wanting of return to the land of Israel:

The most famous example that uses the word Zion is the biblical prayer from the book of Psalms, 137:

1 By the rivers of Babylon, there we sat down, yea, we wept, when we remembered Zion.

תהילים פרק קלז א עַל נַהֲרוֹת, בָּבֶל--שָׁם יָשַׁבְנוּ, גַּם-בָּכִינוּ: בְּזָכְרֵנוּ, אֶת-צִיּוֹן.

This verse is an example of the longing for Israel: as it was written after the exile to Babylon.

*Yes, the funky Boney M song is based on this Psalms verse :) Coming full circle- It is also used in the official hymn of the modern state of Israel, Ha'Tikva. התקווה, written by Naftali Herz Imber. This word might sound familiar to you, as it is also the origin of the word "Zionism".

Zionism- is the notion that the Jewish people deserve to have a state of their own.

Semite- is a term for people relating to, or constituting a subfamily of the Afro-Asiatic language family:

Semite languages- are a group of ancient languages, that originated around the same time, in Africa and the Middle East- aka the neighboring countries of Israel.

The Semitic languages are: Hebrew and its other ancient dialects , Arabic, Amharic, Aramaic and more. Unfortunately , most of these are extinct and no longer spoken.

The languages that are still spoken to this very day are : Arabic, Amharic and Hebrew.

Some Hebrew Fun facts :

-While there are only estimated 8 million Hebrew speakers nowadays( most of them Israeli), Hebrew is considered a holy language in is spoken during prayer.

-Ancient Hebrew and modern Hebrew are very similar. So much so that if I were to time travel, I could have a decent conversation with my ancestors😊 (some pronunciations, grammar and words have changed, but it’s essential the same).

-Which cannot be done with Romanic languages or Celtic languages..

Antisemitism A\N: This word is getting its whole section because it simply deserves it. Nowadays, every time a Jewish person says something is antisemitic, they will usually be bombarded with mocking comments about how Jews like to call everything antisemitic. If had a nickel for every time I got those comments or an Arab person tried to troll me in the comment section by saying "I can't be antisemitic if I'm a Semite myself"... Let's make it clear (once again).

As I have explained before, the word Semite refers to a group of ethnicities. However, the word Antisemitic refers to Jewish hatred: "Antisemitism is hostility to, prejudice towards, or discrimination against Jews.[2][3][4] This sentiment is a form of racism,[5][6] and a person who harbors it is called an antisemite. Though antisemitism is overwhelmingly perpetrated by non-Jews, it may occasionally be perpetrated by Jews in a phenomenon known as auto-antisemitism ".

TLDR: Don't be a Jerk and use antisemitic rhetoric, blood libels, and stereotypes... You don't get to choose if something is antisemitic or not, Jews do.

2. Modern Israel and its founding

The Knesset- Is the Israeli parliament consisting of 120 members, elected democratically every 4 years. Usually- there have been 5 elections in the last 5 years. It also currently has 36 ministers. Yes, that _IS_ a lot.

Kibbutz- "Kibbutz is a community where people voluntarily live and work together on a noncompetitive basis. The first kibbutzim were organized by idealistic young Zionists in the beginning of the 20th century."

As time moved on, starting in the 80s, many Kibbutzim struggled financially and closed down. Today, there are 265 Kibbutzim left, with approximately 200,000 residents. Less than 20% of them are communal.

Unfortunately today, the word Kibbutz has a different connotation:

British mandate- Yep, they colonized us too lol. After the first world war, Between 1917 and May 1948 (Israel was founded literally as soon as the mandate ended).

Fun fact- Today, there are still a few rules left from the British mandate In Israel (Most of them were updated or changed by Israeli law makers after it's founding, usually by the Knesset and the Supreme court of justice).

“Homa U’migdal” (חומה ומגדל Tower and stockade)- During the British mandate, Jewish settlements were built overnight due to a legal loophole still valid from the Ottoman rule. The loophole prevented the British from destroying the new settlement: "Homa U'Migdal is the name of an operation that the leaders of the Yishuv initiated in Palestine, during which 52 new settlements were founded. This operation was a response of the Yishuv to the 1936-1939 Arab Revolt and the restrictions the Mandatory authorities placed, both on the building of new Jewish settlements, and on the amount of Jewish immigrants allowed into Palestine. The building of each settlement began at night. First, the guard tower and the defense stockade were set up, so the operation was named “Tower and Stockade”. According to an old Ottoman law that was still valid during the Mandate period, the destroying of a building was not allowed after the roof had been erected. For this reason the British did not destroy the "Tower and Stockade" settlements which had not received building permits. "

The 2-state solution - The notion that the solution to the Israeli-Palestinian conflict should be two states for two people- one for Arabs and one for Jews.

Balfour's declaration- is the famous letter sent by then-British foreign secretary Lord Balfour to Lord Rothschild in 1917. In the letter, Lord Balfour stated that the British Empire would support the forming of a Jewish Zionist state in the land of Israel.

Peel Commission- was a community created in 1936 by the British rule during their Mandate over Israel. As the name suggests, the head of the Commity was Lord Peel. A suggestion for a Two-state solution was suggested to representatives of both Jews and Arabs. Unfortunately, the Arabs have refused it.

1947 Partition Plan- A partition plan suggested by the UN, that included another draft of the two-state solution, with different borders. The Arabs have refused it once more.

Declaration of Israel's Independence from Britain:

And so, as the British mandate ended on May 14th, 1948, the people's Council (that later served as the initial government of Israel) declared the formation of the modern state of Israel.

The day following the declaration, the Arabs in Israel revolted and with the help of 5 foreign armies that invaded Israel, tried to stop the formation of Israel: Iraq, Jordan, Egypt, Syria, and Lebanon.

They failed and Israel was formed.

You can watch David Ben Gurion, head of the council (and Israel's future first prime minister) declare its formation/independence here.

PS- this was the flag of Palestine before the current one:

Sources:

-Semite languages pic: https://www.britannica.com/topic/Semitic-languages

-Kibbutz: * https://kibbutzulpan.org/about_kibbutz/ *https://www.hamichlol.org.il/%D7%A7%D7%99%D7%91%D7%95%D7%A6%D7%99%D7%9D_%D7%91%D7%99%D7%A9%D7%A8%D7%90%D7%9C (Hebrew)

-Homa U'Migdal" : http://www.zionistarchives.org.il/en/Pages/TowerStockade.aspx

[skyartworkzzz]

Cult of the Goat rambling

Came up with some lore ideas, gonna put it here til Im able to draw it out!

Also mixing up with @lenorblr 's idea of the Old Gods still being around! (bless u again for sharing this with me <3 )

So, as Ive estabilished before, this universe is like a Fell version of COTL to me But how do we make an universe already quite spooky edgier? By alterning the GOOD things that happened in it What if those things did not happen?

Yk how Shamura was the one responsible for showing a world of wisdom to Narinder, until he carried on with it greedily and got punished for it? What if Shamura was the one on board with it but not Narinder? Given that the morals are reversed here, I think Narinder would be the kindest out of all the other Bishops, meaning that hed probably be the one to empathize and be able to recognize recklessness the best Shamura got all the Bishops on their side, but once Narinder expressed disdain for where their plans were going, they all sealed him away into his own domain

Since the Old Gods would still be around, the Bishops would be at constant war with them while trying to maintain their power over their own Lands (I like to think that since these are Gods we are talking about, itd be a bigass territorial and devotional conflict) So naturally, the world got much gloomier and dangerous than usual, the monsters became more terrifying and the biomes grew more traitorous, it is incredibly hard to survive in this world if u are not within the Bishops' domain/kingdom walls. Anyone outside of it cannot be trusted

NOW WHERE DOES THE GOAT COME IN THIS: Instead of being sacrificed in order to appease Narinder, the goats are sacrificed in order to empower the Bishops, which have been looking for ways to become stronger to face the Gods, so naturally these species quickly came to extinction until The Goat was the only one left

When they were executed, just as originally, their soul was transported to Narinders domain, and there they became his vessel

ALAS and however, instead of intending to free himself for the sake of power, Narinder wishes to be free in order to stop his siblings since he is the only one who can. So in order to do that, he makes the Goat his vessel and asks for a cult to be started in his name; the more devotion, the more powerful he grows, until inevitably the Goat has to lay down their own life

Now les say u could choose whether ud want to or not: If you lay down your life, the Goat is murdered and Narinder is fred, therefore implying he escapes his prison and went on to battle against his siblings As an extra, if this were to be game-esque, I imagine a post or pre-credits scene where the Goat can be seen walking into the afterlife with all the others of their kind welcoming them in

If you don’t lay down your life, the Goat offers themselves to become Narinder’s literal vessel. They would go back to the world of the living while possessed by Narinders aura, and thats how theyd beat the Bishops all at once

Once the battle is over, Narinder projects himself out as their shadow and expresses how reckless but brave they were, also pointing out that he is rather impressed by how resistent of a vessel they ended up being Narinder then warns about now being trapped inside of the Goats body and that they have consequently made themselves the new God of Death, given that they now possess Narinders powers. The Goat accepts such fate and is allowed to continue as a cult leader

So in the end, we have a Gods Vessel with their divine living inside their mind and body, both holding custody of the Crowns power like a single person And still having to face the Old Gods but thats for later brainstormi-

Eventually I think if there were to be a Mystic Seller, they would be responsible for freeing Narinder from the Goats body and giving him a mortal carcass. Before it was done tho, the MS wouldve likely warned both about their powers: Narinder would have to be reborn as a mortal in order to be his own person again, since the Crown cannot sit upon 2 brows, unless the Goat would be willing to sacrifice themselves which- hm. I think if this was once again in a game-style - before the options would show up to us - Narinder would interrupt to say he agrees with his condition Honestly I think he would be pretty chill with that LMAO just like “welp Ive done my part already, now its time to retire”, or be like “you wear the Crown well, u should keep it” @ the Goat, so he is revived and made into a follower with no personal problems

IK SOME OF THESE THINGS STILL DONT MATCH Ill likely play around with these ideas and doodle it out to test waters, BUT YEAH thats my interpretations thus far x’D

Hope yall like it! Thank chu for reading <3

[anonymous-dentist]

Based off of @fagdykeroier’s dragon au:

-

When Cellbit was a hatchling, he remembers telling Bad, “I’m gonna kidnap a princess when I get out of here.”

Bad had rumbled and lightly bapped him with his wing. “Don’t be ridiculous. Dragons don’t kidnap princesses. We eat them.”

He had bared his fangs, then- still dripping with the acidic blood of the loser of his most recent fight- and, well. He had a point. Dragons don’t kidnap people. They eat them. They eat them because they’re monsters, and they need to be dealt with accordingly.

It’s been a decade since then, and now Cellbit is protecting a prince from the dragon that’s been kidnapping him biweekly for the past five years of his life.

Cellbit is also kissing the prince. And he feels awful about it.

Roier is a nice guy. He’s better than nice, actually. He’s beautiful. His smile could make an angel weep, and his eyes? They’re warm enough to make Cellbit’s fireproof bones turn to jelly. He’s funny and he’s smart, and he’s the nicest person Cellbit has ever met.

He’s also a prince. And dragons don’t kidnap princes. They don’t kiss them, either.

Dragons eat people. Because they’re monsters, and they need to be dealt with accordingly.

Cellbit forces himself to push Roier away, fists loosely curling in the soft silk of Roier’s shirt.

“What?” Roier asks. He’s frowning, and he’s somehow still handsome doing it. “What’s wrong, gatinho?”

Cellbit tears his eyes away from the prince’s and chooses to instead look out over the horizon. The sun is setting, and it almost makes Roier’s honeyed brown eyes burn as red as the flames burning in Cellbit’s chest.

He drops his hands, and he takes one step back. And then another, head dropping and hands shaking.

“…Cellbit?”

“I can’t do this,” Cellbit hears himself say. (Which is a fucking lie, but what else is new? He’s been lying to Roier the entire time he’s known him.) “You…”

The world is… distant. And warm. It’s so warm. Fuck, he needs to concentrate or-

Everything bolts back into clarity as Roier takes his hands and squeezes them.

“Hey,” he softy says, “it’s fine. Okay? If you don’t want to-”

Cellbit’s head snaps up. He meets Roier’s gaze and only halfway flinches as how caring it is.

“I want to!” he interrupts. “But- but I’ve been lying to you, guapito. Roier. You deserve better.”

Roier’s eyebrows furrow, but he doesn’t look angry. For some reason. Even though he hates liars- he hates liars! Cellbit deserves to be thrown off the balcony they’re standing on…

“Okay…” Roier slowly nods. “Tell me.”

“What? I lied.”

“Yeees, so tell me what you did. Then I’ll be angry. Maybe. Who knows?”

He smiles, then, and it’s as brilliant as the sun.

Cellbit wants. He’s never been the type of dragon to hoard, he was trained out of it before it could become a problem, but he kind of wants to put Roier in a cave somewhere and curl around him and never let him go.

But.

Of course Roier is going to be angry. Dragons are monsters. They’re nearly extinct for a reason. And he’s been regularly kidnapped by one for the past however many years of his life, of course he’s going to be angry when Cellbit tells him.

But.

Cellbit swore to Roier on his first night on duty as Roier’s personal guard that he would never lie to him. It’s been almost a year since then, and not once has Cellbit broken his promise… outside of this.

So he sighs and hangs his head and squeezes Roier’s hands once before letting go and moving to lean against the balcony with his face in the sun. It’s warm, but in a good way. The incoming night breeze is chilly, but in a better way. Maybe Cellbit doesn’t deserve the warmth.

“I haven’t been totally honest about who… or, rather, what I am,” he explains, slowly as he figures out the words. “Your fathers hired me to protect you from the dragon-”

“Melissa.”

Cellbit can’t help but smile. “Right, Melissa. But they don’t know that the reason why I know so much about dragons is…”

He sucks in a breath and lets it out slowly; it comes out as smoke, tinted green by his flames.

“…because I am one.”

Silence. Expected, really.

Cellbit’s eyes slip shut, and he waits for the inevitable outburst. Maybe he’ll get lucky and Roier will end him from behind so he doesn’t have to see the hatred in his eyes.

But then Roier speaks, quietly: “How long have you been my guard?”

The answer is immediate: “Nine months and two weeks.”

“And how many days have you had off?”

For vacation? “None. I had to protect you.”

Roier sucks in a deep breath. Oh, so he is angry, after all. (Of course he is.)

“Nine months and two weeks,” he says, voice raising in volume with every word until he’s shouting: “And you’ve been human this whole time!?”

Cellbit yelps as he’s forcefully spun around, and he’s expecting a dagger to the chest, but what he gets is… a hug. He’s pulled to Roier’s chest, and Roier hides his face in the side of Cellbit’s neck, and he squeezes him so tightly that Cellbit can’t breathe.

“Why didn’t you just say so, pendejo?” Roier asks. His lips brush against Cellbit’s skin and make him go weak in the knees.

That’s a stupid question.

Cellbit can’t bear to hug him back, but he can force himself to answer: “Because dragons literally eat people?”

(It’s not the real answer, but it’s what Cellbit can give without giving himself a panic attack.)

Roier pulls his head back and gives Cellbit an unreadable look.

“You,” he declares, “are coming with me.”

And, with that, he breaks the hug and proceeds to drag Cellbit by the hand off of the balcony and through the castle towards the stables.

So he’s going to kill Cellbit elsewhere. So be it. He deserves nothing less.

First kiss ruined…

-

The secondary location, for whatever reason, is the cave Cellbit first met Roier at on that first rescue mission. He’s only been back since a handful of times to rescue Roier from the dragon, Melissa, but it’s familiar enough to make him pause in the cave’s mouth.

“It’ll be easier to clean the blood up outside,” he helpfully says.

Roier groans, “How many times do I need to tell you I’m not going to kill you? Come on.”

Grumbling, he pulls Cellbit deeper inside the cave, still holding his hand as tight as he was holding it back at the castle. They even shared a horse to get to the cave so they could keep holding hands in some way; the horse is tied up outside by a fence post Cellbit had installed after his second rescue mission for convenience.

Cellbit never got a proper cave growing up. Admittedly, he doesn’t remember most of his hatchling years, but the years he does remember were all spent in a too-small cage miles underground surrounded by the rotting corpses of the dragons he’d killed.

He used to dream of having a cave. He wanted enough room to spread his wings for once, just like how Bad said he would spread his wings back when he was free.

Now, he knows better. What’s the point of the entire world being open to him if spreading his wings would get him thrown back into the ring?

Roier leads Cellbit past his usual “kidnapping bedroom” and through a large-ish crack in the cave wall. On the other side is an enormous cavern with fire-scorched walls and mounds of gold and silver and silks and satins piled into the center of the room like a nest.

Cellbit’s hand falls from Roier’s grip. He stares at the gold hungrily.

And then he screeches and covers his eyes and turns away as Roier pulls his shirt over his head and starts stripping.

“Roier!” Cellbit protests. “I’m- I’m really not into this kind of stuff, if that’s what you’re getting at!”

“Qué?” Roier laughs. “Relax, Cellbit, it’s fine!”

Oh, gods, maybe Roier didn’t drag Cellbit all the way into the mountains to kill him. Maybe he’s one of those weird humans into dragons. And Cellbit can’t judge exactly because he is a dragon and so he gets the appeal, but-

His ears prick up at the sound of crackling fire and the sudden rush of wind from the center of the cavern, a familiar magical sensation gently pushing against him as his own magic tries to push back in a similar way. He grits his teeth and forces his claws back to blunt human nails. Not now.

Hesitantly, he lowers his hands from his eyes, and he looks up at the dragon standing where the prince just was. Melissa.

Or, well.

Cellbit’s arms fall to his sides and he, frankly, stares.

The dragon has eyes the same red as the color Roier’s turn in the sun. Black and red scales meshed together like the end of a sunset.

“Guapito…” Cellbit whispers. He tries to go louder, but he can’t, so he says no more.

He stumbles forward, one hand instinctively outstretched.

Roier smiles and flops onto the ground, shaking it. He bows his head, purring as Cellbit places his hand on his snout and lightly strokes it.

Of course, Cellbit thinks. His first theory from all the way when he first rescued Roier is true. He’s a dragon, and he’s been kidnapping himself, the absolute freak.

Roier huffs out a puff of smoke right into Cellbit’s face as if saying, “What were you thinking about all dragons being irredeemable monsters, hmm?”

(Cellbit doesn’t need to be able to hear him speak to know what he’s saying, of course he doesn’t.)

Cellbit breathes the smoke in like it’s clean air; weirdly enough, it tastes a little like Cellbit’s own.

Cellbit’s forehead presses against his prince’s snout, and he sadly smiles. He’s going to need to protect Roier from much worse than a dragon, now.

“You’re very handsome,” he says.

Roier nudges him annoyedly. “Of course I am.”

“If you want to…” Cellbit lets out a breath and stands up, adjusts his cloak and the sword hanging from his belt. “If you would like to rest, I can go stand guard.”

Roier’s eyes narrow. “Excuse me?”

Cellbit takes one step back.

“It takes a lot of energy to change forms,” he says. Another step. “You need the rest.”

A third step, and then he’s turning on his heel and running for the exit because he knows what Roier wants him to do, and-

Roier roars and snaps at him, grabbing Cellbit by the back of his hood with his teeth and dragging him back into the center of the room.

Cellbit thrashes briefly, but he gives up as he’s dropped back at Roier’s feet.

“I’m not shifting,” he firmly tells him. “Someone needs to keep you safe.”

Roier rolls his eyes. “Shut up. You need to, and I can protect you, too, pendejo.”

He nudges Cellbit with his nose to the side towards the center of the nest. Cellbit protests, skittering and slipping on the gold coins and the soft fabrics. But Roier catches him with his teeth and sets him back upright.

A warm breath tickles Cellbit’s back, and it takes all of Cellbit’s strength to keep him from shifting right then and there.

He’s so tired.

But he tries one last time: “But I-”

But he’s interrupted by a gentle rumble and a flick of a cold forked tongue against the back of his head. “Rest. You can protect me tomorrow.”

But Cellbit won’t wake up tomorrow. He’ll be out for a week straight at least. He has duties to complete. He’s supposed to go grocery shopping this week, it’s his turn.

He sighs, anyway and shuffles out of the nest to deposit his clothes somewhere where they won’t get too charred by all the flames about to appear.

“Close your eyes,” he says over his shoulder. He’s blushing as he unties his cloak and casts it to the floor, and then he’s blushing harder as he pulls his outer shirt off and dumps it on top of the cloak. “We didn’t even finish our first kiss. Save the peeking until after we’re married.”

Roier’s eyes light up at the mention of a marriage, but he still turns his head away and makes a show of covering his eyes with his front feet. Cute.

Cellbit sucks in a deep breath and looks down at the floor. Okay. It’s just. The first time in eight years. Just that. First time willingly doing it in front of someone. Just that.

He lets the breath out, and green flames come out with it.

Undressed, Cellbit steps away from his clothes and closes his eyes, and he lets his own fire eat him up as he transforms. And it hurts, okay? It burns, and not in the good way. But-

A concerned noise from the nest as Cellbit lets out a pained grunt of a growl.

-but Roier is waiting, and Cellbit just wants to sleep.

Fully shifted for the first time in almost a decade, Cellbit doesn’t realize how scrawny he really is until he’s sleepily staggered up to Roier’s side and collapsed into the nest with an exhausted whine. He fits perfectly under Roier’s wing. He needs to eat more, Forever’s been saying as much for years. Now, Cellbit gets why.

A nose brushes the space between Cellbit’s horns like a kiss. “Sleep well, gatinho.”

Cellbit’s eyes slip shut, and, pressed against the man he thinks he could spend the rest of his life with, he finally, finally falls asleep.

[ghcstao3]

hi again, hope school isn't being too hard on you :( I figured I'd send a few ideas in & you can answer whenever!

IT'S COLD! so how about the 141 during the summer, doing some of your favorite activities! Or maybe a teeny ramble about what each likes doing the most...?

if it's not triggering...SoapGhost in uni. The class they share is for 1 of their majors & the other's minor (or maybe just for extra credits). The extra credit assignment involves taking a day trip somewhere & they're the only 2 who go.

Soap's 2nd job happens to be helping out his local unicorn community, who have all but gone extinct. He comes across the fabled Simon Riley, the Ghost of Soap's hometown, as the poor guy wanders around after being held captive by fey for decades.

school’s just been busy more than anything thankfully!! it’s a lot of work but certainly not too difficult:)

and ahh it was hard to choose from one of these i might have to return to the others. but honestly writing about them in uni is like therapy

-

Simon and John meet in an upper level English literature course.

Well—Simon never really had much say in the matter, not when John had plopped himself down in the seat beside him on the first day even in spite of all the other empty desks in the small classroom. Apparently it’s what John’s heart had desired, and never having been one for unnecessary confrontation, Simon never says anything of it.

He could never really pinpoint when their friendship began, maybe forged through general interest in the topic and whispered comments and jokes about some of the contents during lectures, or maybe through necessity when they’re not familiar with many others in the class, but either way—John ends up becoming one of the better friends Simon’s made in all his years of university.

The thing is, though, with majors that don’t overlap in the slightest—be it Simon’s English major and John’s own in chemistry—they don’t really see much of each other outside of class, unless it means working on a group project. Simon thinks—believes—they’d both like to be friends outside of the course, but… for whatever reason, they each have difficulty initiating anything.

Simon, personally, would like something more. But he doesn’t need it. Just wants John’s company regardless.

But they have their difficulties throughout the semester, that is, until their professor—a sweet old woman, who endures far too much from the few immature students in her class—announces that she had received funding from the department to take interested students to a professional production of Macbeth in a town an hour over. It’s without hesitation that Simon and John both agree to go.

But since it’s so close to finals season, they end up being the only two to go through with attending.

Not that Simon’s complaining—it just means more time spent with John alone. Sort of.

And not to mention he gets to see how nicely John cleans up for the event.

“I’m so glad you boys still came,” their professor says in greeting. “I was afraid no one wanted to go anymore.”

John smiles that stupidly charming smile at her, and Simon’s really beginning to feel the extent of his growing crush on his friend.

“We wouldn’t miss it,” he says.

“Oh, thank you, John.” She glances between them both, some knowing expression appearing briefly on her face before she ushers them inside the theatre. She hands them their tickets, tells them to go ahead, she has some friends from the local university she wants to meet with before the performance starts.

As they settle into their seats, John leans into Simon’s space—closer than he could ever manage at a desk. Simon hopes the theatre’s dark enough that John can’t see the way his ears burn red.

“Warning you now,” John whispers. “I know fuck all about Shakespeare language, so you’re gonna have a lot of explainin’ to do.”

Simon huffs, trying to dispel some of the heat of his blush. “Maybe you should’ve paid more attention in class, then, Johnny.”

John laughs, knocking his shoulder against Simon’s. “Maybe you shouldn’t have been telling me so many jokes during lectures, Mr. English major.”

Simon rolls his eyes but doesn’t bother retaliating. Instead they fall into meaningless conversation until the play begins, quieting only slightly when their professor arrives and sits on the other side of Simon.

The lights dim in the audience, and the performance starts. Simon watches with rapt attention, but true to his word, John asks him far too many questions.

He doesn’t particularly mind, though, when he can feel John’s knee press against his all the while.

John rambles when it’s over, and despite the interrogation, he seemed to understand and enjoy it as much as Simon and their professor had. Simon’s more than content to listen as their professor bids them goodnight, and they both head to the train station while she heads to her car.

Simon isn’t sure what it is that causes it—but the entire ride back, John seems to encroach in his space more than usual, stuck to Simon like glue. Simon does notice his eyes drooping and his head nodding off every once in a while, so he has the excuse of writing it off as exhaustion.

Particularly when John is resting his head on Simon’s shoulder.

“Don’t wanna walk back to my flat,” John laments once they’re climbing off at their stop. “Too far.”

It’s a fit of impulse that has Simon offering, “You could stay at mine? It’s only five minutes.”

And there’s no hesitation when John accepts with a weary grin.

“You’re a lifesaver, Si,” John sighs. “Could kiss you right now.”

Simon freezes. John doesn’t notice as he ambles further away from the train platform.

“What’d you say?”

John pauses, and his brow furrows. He looks to Simon, simultaneously confused and entirely too casual. “Said I could kiss you,” he repeats. “Why? S’that a problem?”

Simon’s gaze falls to the ground as he quickly shakes his head. “No, no, it’s not—that’s not—“

“Would you like me to kiss you?” John pushes, peeking up at Simon through thick lashes. Simon knows he’d give in immediately, if he were looking into those sapphire-blue eyes.

“I mean—“ Simon shrugs a shoulder. His blush has returned in full force, from the nape of his neck, to his cheeks, to the tips of his ears. “—I wouldn’t say no.”

“Okay,” John hums, like it’s nothing, before grabbing Simon’s face and doing exactly as promised.

It isn’t anything life changing, but it’s still—it’s still everything Simon could hope for, even here as a chill runs through him from the night’s cool temperature, even if their only sources of light are the moon and a flickering streetlamp.

John eventually pulls away first, delivering a hearty pat to Simon’s chest. “Now get me back to your flat and we can do that again, aye? It’s fuckin’ freezing out here.”

Simon can’t help the smile that appears on his face. His face tingles a little less now, though he’s sure it’s still stained a deep pink. “Sure, Johnny.”

And if they hold hands the entire way back—Simon will just claim it was for warmth.

[undeath1245]

The drone societies of Copper 9 [unfinished headcanon]

This post has been sitting in my drafts for about two years. And as of now, I’m not planning on finishing this up, so here it is.

So far, the only drone society we know of is the Worker Drone colony hiding underneath the bunkers, led by the Worker Defense Force. But, I have this strange feeling that they aren’t the only Worker Drone colony here on the post-apocalyptic Copper 9, but I can’t be so sure until season one drops. So for now, I’m going to post some headcanon about other Worker Drone colonies here on Copper 9.

The JC Jenson Era

From what we know, worker drones are autonomous robots built to perform heavy-duty work, particularly in mines and factories. This fleet of Worker Drones were sent to the faraway terrestrial exoplanet Copper 9 to mine for resources for JC Jenson’s outer space division (brand name being JC Jenson, in SPAAAAACEE!!!!). I’m going to make a headcanon that they arrived in Copper 9 about 35 years ago. We currently don’t know what other resources they were mining for apart from copper, from where the planet probably got its name from. It could be other similar materials usually found and mined on Earth, like iron, nickel, aluminum, carbon, silicon, or sulfur, but that’s my educated guess.

I have a headcanon that JC Jenson was using some of their planetary colonies as a front to store away their dangerous experiments or failed experiments, like experimental drones or other scientific nonsense, like that blurred out flesh thing we saw in the teaser for season one. I already came up with an OC that was supposed to be a planetary guardian of sorts before he went incredibly haywire, but I’ll get to him later.

As we already know, the human workers were inadvertently the cause of the... Great Yeeting; Goddamn Liam and his meme addiction. It's fairly obvious that this was probably caused by a freak combination of ignorance and apathy, with the workers doing some weird shit with the planet’s core and all. Maybe they were trying to alter it so that the planet’s atmosphere would stop producing these perpetual blizzards, unless these blizzards were caused by the Great Yeeting itself. If so, then what was Copper 9 really like before JC Jenson’s space division settled here? Was it a planet with a bright, stable atmosphere and lush environments? Were there extraterrestrial life striving here? Was there even an alien society?

The Posthuman Era

My headcanon is that there are about five worker drone colonies situated on Copper 9, each with their own cultures and how each of them deal with the disassembly drone epidemic: the Central Colony (Uzi’s colony), Northern Colony, Northeastern Colony, Western Colony, and Southern Colony. The Worker Defense Force was founded about 30 years ago by Khan Doorman to ensure the safety of the worker drone society in case humans ever arrive back to Copper 9 to either regain control of them, or worse: destroy them. Largely, they focused on building durable, reinforced doors, while also learning various forms of self-defense such as martial arts and melee combat; this was before they resorted to a pacifistic approach.

The Murder Drone Era

Most of the worker drone colonies hid underground through a large bunker system, while some of them continue to reside outside the bunkers while hiding from or fending off disassembly drones. These drones are regularly called Outside Workers or outsiders, and are often looked down upon by other colonies due to their “foolishness” for not choosing to hide in the bunkers. But then again, would you rather spend your entire life hiding underneath the bunkers like a coward and let these killer robots wreak havoc onto your world? The world you worked hard to build after the extinction of your human oppressors?

I think that some of the disassembly drone squads don’t exactly follow orders to wipe out the worker drones of each sector, rather than enslave them instead. Now, I think that some of the squads already figured out that they couldn’t live without drinking warm, sweet oil, yet they’re programmed to destroy every worker drone they see, but they couldn’t disobey protocol. So to remedy this without disobeying the company, they decide to spare the entire populace of a sector, and in return, they sacrifice 10 to 20 worker drones every month or so, almost as if they’re farming worker drones now.

Now, there are a couple of worker drones that actually fought back against disassembly drones, according to J. Perhaps these drones had defied their programming and actually learned how to fight and defend themselves, and are probably equipped with state-of-the-art weaponry like rifles and cannons. I mean, surely the humans might have brought weapons here to Copper 9 in case they run into any extraterrestrial wildlife, creatures that they haven’t encountered before. But then again, was Copper 9 already devoid of life before? I mean, there seemed to be perpetual, worldwide blizzards before while the humans were there, or it could be the result of the planet’s core exploding. But, all that matters that these worker drones are probably armed and incredibly combative, so it’s plausible that they’ve fought disassembly drones before. But, had they ever killed one before?