#like just that burning sun pic I think? which you *also* reblogged
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lavenoon · 2 years ago
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🐰 (You are so sweet and friendly, but gah, the fact that you create so many wonderful things, art, fics, etc, just blows my mind and I can't believe we're moots ♥)
Naff. Naff.
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Without you I definitely wouldn't have (had, for past stuff) this much fun creating things! I'm so normal about all you come up with, and I just needed to show that because just gushing in comments wasn't enough!
Glad the intimidation doesn't go further than that though - or else I'd have to chuck some uno reverse cards at you! <3
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skitskatdacat63 · 1 year ago
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Hiii CATIE!!!!! HIII
Im pretty pretty sure people have already asked BUT HOW WAS ATTENDING THE US GP LIVE!!!! WAS???? TELL ME!! DO YOU HAVE PICS??? I know I know im late.
I ALSO HOPE YOU GOT HOME SAFE AND SOUND AND THAT YOU ARE RESTING NOW+!!!(I saw the chaos you went through im deeply sorry for you :( )
ANYWAYS HOW WAS THE RACE? HOW WAS EXPERIENCING STROLLONSO LIVE?????? AND omg did you get pics of drivers??? :00
You must must share pleaseeeeee.wax.poet
OH MY GOD ELLE SORRY THIS IS SO LATE!!! IT WAS VERY COOL!!!!! VERY SURREAL!!!!!! I've taken a week to answer this but uhhhh yes I am in fact home now 🥰 I got home at like 1 am which was cool....
First of all I have to mention this! I was fighting for my life walking thru the Austin airport(from sleep deprivation), and I had my Fernando hat on my backpack, right? Some girl comes up to me and asks if I'm going to the GP, I say yes. SHE GAVE ME A FRIENDSHIP BRACELET, I COULD'VE SOBBED 🥹 It says on it "wtf is a km", I'm still so happy
COTA was the first race I ever watched, so to be actually at that track and watch a race live there was extremely surreal! Very hot though my god 😵‍💫 I think last year it was pretty hot, right? And my brother kept sending me the temp and it was pretty okay, and then of fucking course the temp leaps up to 89-97°(31-36° Celsius btw) right in time for the gp....so that was nice(I say as I burn in the sun like a vampire. But don't worry I didn't even really tan at all 😭 I always wore a hat and a lot of sunscreen. And meanwhile my brother was literally a lobster)
(This is a long post):
So unfortunately I missed the drivers parade because my brother and I were dying on Saturday night and his friends wanted to go first thing in the morning, and we're like "we will go later actually 😊" and missed it entirely 😭😭😭 but his friends took pics of Mclaren and Aston for me!!!!! But unfortunately I havent gotten them still, so I'll have to reblog this later with those! I took a lot of pictures of the cars I took from behind the fence, which I think I've posted some of? Lmk if anyone wants those!! They're very random, I just thought it was very surreal to see the cars flying past, so I took a million.
The coolest part was definitely running on track after the race was over!!! Soooooo surreal, and so I'm only gonna post pics rn from Sunday(bcs pic limit on phone) and also I think everything else kinda pales in comparison(but of course lmk if there's anything you're interested in seeing 🤭)
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Okay and did I see any drivers...? ONLY ONE BUT AAAAHHHH I DID SEE LANDO!!! Not even one of my favs but it was soooooo surreal to see him, even from afar. As you can see above, everyone standing on the fences was blocking the view 🙄, but during the podium, I was focusing my camera btwn their legs and got literally one second of Lando 😭 I think its a pretty aesthetic clip, so I gifed it!!
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It was so funny, I went to the gp with my brother and friends, so all these older guys yeah. And I was showing this off to them on the ride home, and his one friend was praising me so much for it 😭😭 like: "oh my god!!!! You could put this in an edit !!! This is so sick!!!!"
Oh one other thing!!! I think I've mentioned it before but my god, my favorite f1 podiums are always the ones with confetti, right?? AND THERE WAS CONFETTI AT THIS RACE!!!
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LOOK AT HOW PRETTYYYYY!!!! And so anyways, I picked up so much confetti off the ground and now it lives forever in my phone case 🥰🥰🥰 I have no other room for pics on this post(for now) but oh my godddddddddd most of the confetti were just rectangles BUT THERE WAS ALSO ONES SHAPED LIKE TEXAS!!! SO COOL!!!!! And I also picked up a bunch of tire marbles off the ground!!! And a piece of plastic that probably came off some car. It was so funny when all of us were just scrounging off the ground. My bro's one friend somehow found a piece of carbon fiber, and we're all like "how can I kill him in his sleep and steal this from him..." But no the highlight actually of that process was watching my brother sprint to the podium, but stopping and grabbing a bunch of gravel first to shove in his pocket 😭😭😭
The other two days were fun as well, but also a lot of just dying in the heat and drinking a fuckton of red bull, so there's not too much specifically to say! I really liked hearing the cars. I think if you wanna know what's actually going on in a race, watching from home is better, but hearing the cars go by and seeing them is just so fucking sick. It was so funny to see grown men be like "I think I'm going to cry hearing these cars." I was really flexing on them with "uhhh yeah I've already been to a gp already 🙄🙄"
Anyways I ended the day by breaking bank by buying my dad and myself Fernando shirts because he is of course Fernando's biggest fan 🥰🥰 and I bought the most delicious overpriced lemonade, which I only drank half of bcs my brother proceeded to accidentally elbow it out of my hand....
OH WAIT ONE MORE DETAIL LOL. On Friday, my brother and his friend were waiting in line for smth and I was talking to them outside of the barrier. I look down, hmm theres a red cap abandoned on the ground, I pick it up, it is in fact a Ferrari hat. And that is how my brother acquired a $40+ dollar hat for free. Lucky bastard....I was the who found it!
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sodapops0lstice · 1 year ago
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Intro Post!
Because I've never made an actually good one...
Favs! Blinkies & Stamps! Sprite Drive!COMMS!!!! Classic Era Say hello to me!
@badlydrawndirk @badlydrawnjade @ectobio @our-fav-hs-char @alternian-life-advice @aviansaffection @arethesewordsinhomestuck @fuckyeahhomestuckladies @the-gang-makes-a-blog
⬆️I run all those ⬆️
My tags:
#soda's minifridge <- wishlist
#fizzes <- asks
#solar systems <- original posts
#neighbouring stars <- mutuals and pals
#grubpeta <- my earth c au
#cure pop <- PreCure Tag
#splatstuck <- Splatoon x Homestuck au
#jo au <- My fluff au where Joey takes care of Jade
#candy bowl for roxanne <- posts for my good chum and friend roxanne of marinealcoholic fame
#meteorites <- queued posts
#lesbian danny devito <- dog pics, block as needed
#the moon <- @dykemaxxing's very own tag for gay tomfoolery
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Basic Stuff
I'm a freak by many a name. But I go by Soda, Cece, Admin, Ary, Xefros, Sol and Rezi mostly. Seriously. Any of those will do. Hell, I'll take new names aswell. Drop them name recommendations lmao
I'm 15 aswell, in Year 11. (I chose Triple Science, French and History if you wanted to know about my GCSE choices.)
I'm a lesbian and agender, which basically is me saying my gender changes for when it's funniest.
I use ALLLL the pronouns, even xenos and neos because I am badass and awesome. Literally anything goes.
I'm Scottish and Irish. Which is kinda cool, means I burn hella easy though which sucks ass.
I'm also autistic, I like to post about that.
I also also have depression and anxiety, I don't really care though because I'm balling 24/7 B)
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Interests & Likes
Obvious is obvious but I'm a massssive Homestuck. That is primarily what I post/reblog. This includes Hiveswap/Hauntswitch
I also enjoy Pokémon. A lot. Like... 2200 hours on Ultra Sun alone enjoy.
Youkai Watch is also a big fav of mine. In fact, Youkai Watch 3 is one of my favourite games of all time!
I absolutely ADORE A Hat in Time! It is THE game for me. It means the world and everything to me.
Alongside AHIT, Undertale and Deltarune are some of my favs ever! (I don't cry everytime I replay UT what do you mean?)
In general, I'm a total loser for vidya. I can do a quick rundown of the gaems I like but probably won't be reblogging often
Crash Bandicoot
Kleptocats
Touhou
Gmod
Sonic
Papa's -rias
FNAF
Animal Crossing
Half Life
Persona 5
I don't often watch many series or movies. But there's a special place in my heart for Invader Zim, The Owl House, It's Always Sunny in Philadelphia, Eddsworld and My Little Pony. I'm also super excited for the new Scott Pilgrim show :D
It's strange to say but I have a keen interest in reality shows. This means Gogglebox, Come Dine with Me, Four in a Bed, Kitchen Nightmares (both versions) and Impractical Jokers. Only the lord knows why. I think it's the autism. It's probably the autism.
I'm a fan of Pretty Cure aswell! Those girls are so beegitful <3 in those dresses... Yes I found out about it through Glitter Force but that doesn't change anything. Another anime I also love is Pop Team Epic that show irreversibly changed my sense in humour. I've been getting into MHA and Chainsaw Man aswell.
I also adore!!! Vocaloid it literally makes up 50% of my music taste. I black out and wake up with 20 new pieces of miku merch lmao
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Music
I have a lot of different music interests! But my all time favourite band ever is Qbomb! I adoreeeee them to infinity. I literally don't know what my favourite Qbomb song is because they're all so good.
But! Qbomb doesn't have my fav song, that honour goes to Stacked Like Pancakes and their song SFDD. It's a really high energy ska song that I recommend highly. (You won't regret listening to it!)
Instead of just listing my spotify stats here, I'm gonna just get some images of those funky websites instead :)
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Obviously this isn't completely accurate since this is from my entireeee spotify history. But it's basically all there!
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littlemessyjessi · 4 years ago
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“Come Away With Me” : Regulus Black: Plus Size and Shortie : Chapter One “Prisoner”
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Reggie deserved better and by Godric he’s gonna have it. 
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You keep makin' it harder to stay But I still can't run away I gotta know, why can't you Why can't you just let me go?
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“Prisoner” - Miley Cyrus ft. Dua Lipa
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The turning point for Regulus Arcturus Black came the summer before his sixth year.
History was repeating itself.
Walburga Black stared down at her youngest son, seeing nothing more than Sirius in that moment.
She'd warned him about that girl.
Aurora Monroe, or Rory, had been Regulus' best friend since their first day.
It would seem that the Black brothers had a penchant for befriending half blood, half breed combinations.
But that wasn't why Walburga hated the girl.
She didn't even know Rory was a werewolf.
But she did know that she was a half blood and she knew that she was a Monroe.
And that was enough for her to hate her.
Two families who had been at each other's throats since what seemed like the beginning of time.
It all came down to money.
As most things did.
They were two of the wealthiest families in the wizarding communities of England.  
Thus it was a constant competition and rivalry set in a long time ago.
The Black had old money that came from a long line of aristocracy.
The Monroe's built their fortune and built it rather quickly and also managed to spite a Black ancestor in the process.
And thus began the fued.
Walburga had warned her son, over and over again about being around her but he didn't listen.
Regulus was far more mild mannered than Sirius but at his core...he was actually truly very stubborn.
And he refused to budge on that.
She'd threatened to blast him off the family tree just like she had Sirius.
A moment that was still burned into Regulus' memory.
But still he held steadfast.
But then she snapped the final chord.
Her and Orion had never joined Voldemort and his band of followers but she supported them.
And she had every intention of Regulus joining the ranks.
Even if meant she had to force him.
It wasn't even that she was willing to force him to do something.
He was used to that.
But he knew what that meant.
It meant a death sentence for Rory and Regulus would burn it all down before he let that happen.
He flew up the stairs and into his room rummaging around for the mirror he and Rory had gotten from Zonko's before the summer.
"Rory! Aurora!" he called into the mirror.
He could hear her fumbling for a second before her freckly scarred face appeared.
"Hey, Regs!" she broke into a grin but it quickly faded when she could see the distress on his face. "Regulus, what's wrong? What happened?"
"I gotta get out of here." he said, struggling to breathe. "Right now."
"Ok, ok. What happened? Are you ok?" she asked, amber eyes searching him through the mirror.
"I'm fine. But I gotta go.  I'll be ok. But I needed to tell you just in case you don't hear from me for a bit." he said holding the mirror with one hand and shoving things into his trunk with the other.
A loud banging at the door caused his head to snap the side and the unlocking charm could be heard as his mother opened the door.
"Where the hell do you think you're going?" she screeched and Aurora gasped.
"Who is that?!" Walburga snapped and snatched the mirror out of Regulus' hand.
She seethed as she took in the sight of Aurora Monroe on the other side of it.
Regulus didn't even have time to prepare for impact when Walburga backhanded him and threw the mirror across the room.
Aurora's angry scream could be heard right before it shattered and Regulus looked at his mother in horror as she advanced.
"The only way you leave this house is over my dead body." she whispered and Regulus looked up at her in horror.
"That can be arranged."
The two of them turned to look at the tiny figure in the door who had clearly just apparated into mass chaos.
Amber eyes ablaze and white hair like a halo around her.
She was furious.
Aurora looked nothing short of an angel of death.
"You little bitch!" Walburga growled. "Stupid filthy mudblood! You'll be expelled for using magic outside of Hogwarts."
Aurora smirked, "I'm of age, you musky hussy."
Walburga drew her wand and Regulus panicked.
"No!" he said lunging at his mother but Aurora had already cast the spell to disarm her.
Walburga grabbed Regulus by the hair jerking his head back.
She narrowed her eyes at Aurora who absolutely refused to back down.
"You're not taking him." Walburga spat.
"You let him go or I snap this in half and turn it over to the ministry.  And I'm betting there's a fair share of unforgivable curses lingering in this wood." Rory said.
She and Walburga stared at each other for the longest time before Walburga's eye twitched.
She pulled her hand back and Regulus squeezed his eyes preparing for the blow when suddenly the pressure was released from hair and he stumbled to regain his balance.
Aurora had stunned Walburga and sent her flying back into the wall where she now lay unconscious.
She performed the body bind curse on her and turned to Regulus.
"Get what you need, Regs.  We gotta go.  Right now." she said  sternly but he was too shocked to move.
She sighed and reached out to touch his arm, "Reggie, we gotta go.  Right now.  Get the essentials."
He seemed to snap out of it and shoved a few things in his trunk before grabbing his broom out of his closet.
"Is there anyone else home, Regs?" she asked as she kept a watchful eye over Walburga's unconscious form and the door.
"No." Regulus shook his head. "Just Kreacher. Oh fuck."
It dawned him in that moment.
"Kreacher!" he called out.
A second later the house elf appeared with a pop and promptly began to freak out over Walburga.
"Mistress!" he wailed.
"Kreacher, please." Regulus said. "I know, I know.  But she was..."
"She was attacking Master Regulus again?" he asked and Regulus nodded.
"I have to go, Kreacher.  Come with us. I can give you clothes and free you.  I haven't been blasted off the tree yet." he pleaded with the elf who had become his friend over the years.
He knew better though.
"Kreacher must stay in the Noble House of Black." he said solemnly.
And suddenly Regulus understood how Sirius must have felt when he had to leave.
He didn't really have a choice but Regulus wouldn't go with him just like Kreacher wouldn't go now.
"Kreacher will keep the Mistress asleep." the elf said.
Aurora watched and Regulus knelt to hug the elf once more before grabbing his trunk and slinging his broom over his shoulder.
"Ok." he said, passing a hand over Kreacher's head once more.
Aurora stepped forward and Regulus wound his arm through hers before she turned and apparated away.
As they disappeared into thin air, Regulus' eyes watered.
Sadness, relief, fear.
It was all mixed into one but one thing was for sure.
Everything changed from that moment on.
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Chapter Two Coming Soon
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Keep Scrolling after author’s note for additional story pics!
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Hello, loves! I hope you enjoy this Regs story! It’s a tragedy what happened to Reggie and he was done really dirty both in his story and the lack of story we get for this multi dimensional selfless character! So he’s gonna have some good times in this story, dammit! 
Anyway, I love you all and I would love to hear from you!  Please feel free to share your thoughts in the comments, via reblog or just hit up the ask box! 
I love you all. 
Love, 
Kenny 
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Also, feel free to imagine Regs anyway you like but I do like him as Timothee Chalamet... like a lot of people because Timmy is precious. Also, I feel this gif perfectly encompasses his time in that hell hole.  It’s ok, Reggie bebe.  Mama’s got you.  I’ll give you cocoa and noms and blankies.  It’ll be ok now. 
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Some inspiration pics for Rory! 
These all played a part in the inspiration for Aurora’s hair.  Rory’s hair turned white with stress due to her condition much like how Remus’ hair started greying early.  
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I particularly loved the color of the first and how floofy it was.  But I love the texture and also the poof of the second.  I also absolutely adored the second lady’s freckles which I picture Rory’s being absolutely littered with. 
Aurora has golden brown eyes. Warm like the sun.  Here are a few inspiration pics. 
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I also used these and the picture from the freckled girl with the yellow top as inspiration for her skin tone as I see Aurora as very brown but dashed in freckles and heavily scarred just due to years of being afflicted with lycanthropy.   I also think it makes a striking contrast with her hair and such an juxtaposition against Regs’ fair features and dark hair.  
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This was my main inspiration for Rory’s scars.  She has them all over her but perhaps the most noticeable is the one on her face and I feel this one encompasses it perfectly.   
As far as height went I couldn’t find many pics for inspiration so I begrudgingly used my own tiny form of 4′11″ as reference lol.  She is smol bean like me.  I did find some body inspos though! Rory is very fluffy! 
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I don’t always show my inspo pics for characters but I felt like it was nice thing to start to do as it always helps me begin to form the layout of a character.  And I love you all so I figured it’d be a nice thing to share.  
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@frankie2902
@pleasantdreamqueen   @becrazy–beyou
@littledeadrottinghood @blackirisposts
@therealmrshale @woodworthti666@thegreatirene@fanfictionandjunk
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Btw, the only tags I do is for my permanent tag list but if you ever want to be added to that, all you have to do is just go to the ask box and ask to be added! I’d be happy to do so!
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Also, if you love the Marauders feel free to check out some of my recent Marauder works! 
Chasing Jess (Sirius Black and Jess Scamander) 
A Deal With Cupid (James Potter x Reader) 
All Fun and Games (Poly Marauders Fics) 
Talking to the Moon (Remus Lupin x Reader)
Torn (Remus Lupin x Rowan Black) 
And honestly so many more. 
I’m kind of a ho for Harry Potter and an outright slut for the Marauders.  Just being honest. 
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littlx-songbxrd · 3 years ago
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oof i feel the boredom thing bestie i got you anyway feel free to answer as many or as few as u want
1, 4, 14, 16, 23, 29, 32, 36, 39
+ if there’s anything u wanna come rant ab pls feel free <33
ARTIE ILY
YOU KNOW THAT RIGHT??
ILY
THANK YOU SO MUCH FOR THE HELP AHHHHH
1. Whos your celebrity crush?
Jessie Mei Li, Amita Suman and literally every woman in the shadow and bone cast
I have a finsta, and I created it only because i couldnt keep reblogging shadow and bone pics on my main. Its literally a shadow and bone stan account.
But.... CAN YOU BLAME ME????
C an y o u r a i n?
4. Do you think its ok to separate the art from the artist?
Absolutely not, under no circumstances.
Let me explain
I am of the opinion the entire "separate art from the artist" idiology actually causes more problems than the mentality intends. You can absolutely enjoy media from problematic creators, nothing in this world can be 100% pure and not without its questionable aspects. No one is without fault, you can't go into media putting its creator in a pedastal and expecting a complete ethical person because you will sooner than later be dissapionted because these people are just human.
They will make mistakes, their media will sometimes screw up, and thats ok. Its when a creator refuses to awcknoladge or take fault for their mistakes that a problem comes in.
Its wrong to expect to perfection of a creator, but giving them the benefit of the doubt does not exempt them from critisism.
Wether its a simple mistake caused by ignorance, or inner bias the creator believes to be in the right. A work of art is a living breathing manifestation of a creator, and even if we rather pretend otherwise this creator opinions will be splattered all over their work, including any of these bias.
By saying you separate art from the creator I feel people deny the very problematic aspects of media, rather focusing on the good and thinking by denying the creator the bad aspects also dissapear.
Im not saying you can't enjoy problematic media. *points to my blog* id be quite a hypocrite if i said as such
But rather than denying the author, I think its much more validating to see both the artist and the art. Awcknoladge the bad, and love it regardless. It does a world of good for the marginalized groups being wronged by these types of media because by saying "separate art from artist" it just feels like people are putting blind folds all the problems within the material.
My only exeption for this rule would be when supporting said art is putting the marginalized people in danger in current time, someones life is worth more to me than some kind of media.
14. Oh!
Okok so idk the traductions in english so umm ajjdhfjfkf
So its a cortadito (little 6oz cup of black coffee)
But most time i add a lil bit of milk and sugar.
Also you definetly didnt ask for brand but, yes me and my family are addicts and we drive like 1 hour into mountain regions just to get mountain coffee. Yes were normal
16. If you had to get a tattoo rn, what would you get and where?
I promised my friend that if i ever did get a tattoo itd be a sun tattoo (cause they want a moon one) so...
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Smth like this! And in that spot
23. If you could break one of your bad habits, which would you choose?
Oh my god so many!!
But rn? I guess I'd want to stop self sabotaging. I alwsys ruin things because of my insecurities. I wsnt to stop, I want to be avle to feel prpud of myself and stop denying myself things.
Oh and procrastinating
Pls brain let me-
Let me do things
29. What quote or inspirational setting do you think is bs?
Anything that romanticizes "hardwork" as an excuse to burn yourself out. Too many people growing up fed me all that inspuration that i need to work till i get the job done amd then ill feel better congrats now i feel useless if i cant finish things that make me miserable.
Hardwork =/ = burning out
Youre supposed to feel good about the challenge, not want to die.
32. How old do you get mistaken for?
In the words of my friend
"You know with your uniform if we werent friends id definetly mistake you for a middle schooler"
I am applying for college artie
36. What do you think youd be arrested for?
Not.if rain, when
When i get arrested for protesting against our current political status in the US......
I definetly will get arrested some day and im okay with that
My moms ready
39. Describe your aesthetic
I'm horrible at description but
Chaotic witch works i guess? Most my clothes are colorful (white/yellow/light blues) with lots of patterns and space jewerly?
My friends say my energy kinda radiates "luz from the owl house and leo valdez" do with that what you will
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booklovingturtle · 5 years ago
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A Sweet Suli Spice (Kanej GVBB)
A/N: AH I can’t believe the time has finally come for me to share this with you all! I had so much fun working on this in the midst of the worst and most stressful semester of my life!
Shout out to my gang, Spice of Life, for making this so much fun bc they are all so talented and easy to work with! The Corporalki both understood my writing which made the revising/editing process really smooth. They made sure the fic you’re about to read is actually understandable. They read this more than once and in the midst of their own crazy lives which I will never not be thankfull for. The Materialki are ridiculously talented. You HAVE to click their links to check out their work. I know they all worked really hard on them and it totally paid off.
Also big thank you to @grishaversebigbang​ for hosting this and being a terrifying yet wonderful Master of Tides.
Please feel free to comment, reblog, or message me your reactions to this! It’s the first super long pic that I’ve ever written and I’m really proud of it. Okay enough rambling…ik y’all just want the fic!
Corporalki: @ninxszenik , @ethereal-magia
Materialki: @theartistwitch  @wavesofinkdrops @xan-drei
Masterlist: Don’t have an Ao3 but I do have a master list of all my fics.
Summary: Inej Ghafa hasn’t seen her family in four years. Not since she’s been taken. Now that it’s been so long since she’s seen them, Inej is scared and nervous to go back. One night, while sitting on the rooftop, Kaz asks her to teach him Suli. That inspires Inej to fight her nerves and finally find her family. She asks Kaz to go home with her and he takes this opportunity to learn more about her and her people. Once home, Inej is faced with a guilt of her past, the fear of family’s reactions, and the hope of finally being ghar (home).
The heart of Suli culture flowed with spice-flavored blood and beat to the sound of performance drums. It hummed through Inej’s body every time she whispered her native language to herself under Tante Heleen’s ring-clad fist. She stored the precious words so deep inside of her that she feared the garbled sounds of Kerch would drown out their melodious syllables.
Once she was under the employment of the Dregs, she would practice Suli as often as she could. Some nights she would stare into the mirror, barely recognizing the woman in front of her as she spoke in Suli to herself. She would even write letters to her family in the beautiful script they had taught her. Those letters were always burned before the ink could dry. The content didn’t matter to her. She didn’t write them for the sake of filling a paper with impossible hopes and dreams. She wrote them because she feared losing her mother tongue. It was an irrational fear that she had never been able to vocalize to anyone before. Well, at least before Kaz came into the picture. He had asked her one night if she could teach him Suli and noticed, as he always did, the change in her face at the mention of it.
“I understand if you don’t feel comfortable teaching me. I didn’t mean to make you uncomfortable,” Kaz reached out to place his hand on her leg.
Inej watched his pale, scarred knuckles rest on her knee. They had made their way up to the roof of the Crows Club, as they usually did when Inej was home. Whatever time wasn’t spent up there was used to carefully test the idea of being together.
“It’s not that I don’t feel comfortable. It’s that…” Inej’s words wandered away from her. She watched the way his thumb moved along the inside of her knee. It was such a small touch for someone else; for a different boy and a different girl that touch was meaningless. For them, it was everything.
“It’s okay. You don’t have to explain yourself to me.”
“No. I want to. I’ve spent so many years away from Ravka and most of my people. I only ever get to speak Suli when I’m working with the Dregs or helping people escape a sinking slave ship. For years, I was afraid that one day, I would wake up and forget the language entirely.”
“Is that possible?” His deep voice sounded raspy but soothing against the black night. “Not to lose it in one day, but for you to just forget Suli that easily?”
Inej nodded slowly. “I already have.” It broke her heart to admit it. “When I first arrived to Ketterdam, everything came to me in Suli. Dreams, thoughts, speech. I had to learn to filter my words into Kerch. Now I find that more and more of my thoughts and dreams come in Kerch than they do in Suli.”
Kaz was silent for a few heartbeats. Inej felt as if she had stripped herself bare in front of the entire Barrel. It was odd to feel that way around Kaz now. He had seen and touched parts of her that no one else was ever given permission to. Kaz knew her like no other person could, yet this was a part of her she hadn’t accepted about herself, let alone explained to him. There was an intimacy that came with talking about her culture that made her feel exposed.
“The language is not the only thing that ties you to the culture, Inej. You will always be Suli as long as you carry it in your heart.”
Tears surprised Inej by burning the back of her eyelids. “Come home with me,” she spoke through the lump in her throat.
He looked taken aback. “Home? You mean Ravka?”
She nodded. Inej had felt confident the first time she asked the question, but the way Kaz was looking at her now made her doubt her request.
“Yes. To Ravka. To my family. I-I’ve been thinking about going back for a while now. I even asked Nina for her help in tracking my family down.”
“I didn’t know that,” Kaz’s eyebrows came together in a way that meant he was already calculating things. She recognized that look: scheming face.
“You may be Dirtyhands on this island, Brekker, but that doesn’t mean you’re privy to everything east of Kerch.”
Kaz grinned wickedly. “Maybe not east, but we all know that I was able to conquer the North quite easily.” This was also a new side of Kaz that she had gotten to know over the last few months: one that was playful without an edge of cruelty attached to it. The air around them changed and Inej no longer felt the sadness that usually came with thinking about home.
“We conquered the Ice Court together. With the help of some friends, which you had to beg for help from, if I remember correctly.”
Kaz looked appalled. “I never begged.”
“So you admit that you did need our help.”
“Need is a strong word, Inej. The only things I need in this world are food, air, and you.”
It was her turn to look speechless. Kaz was rarely ever so direct with her about his feelings for her. She knew, of course, that he cared for her as she did for him. It was one thing, however, for her to know it and another for him to be so forward about it.
“And because I need you, Inej, my answer is yes. I want to go to Ravka with you. I want to go everywhere and anywhere with you. We’ll conquer the world together if that’s what you want. I want to be wherever you need me to be.”
Kaz’s words echoed in her head. She would hear them every time she thought of home. Her real home. Thanks to Nina’s help, Inej was sailing to Ravka within months with Kaz by her side.
The Wraith soared through the water and, in what felt like one night’s rest, Inej’s crew was docking The Wraith in Os Kervo’s main dock. From the stern of her ship, Inej could hear the sound of her crew talking and moving. The water lapped against the underside of her ship, gently rocking her reflection back and forth.
Inej prayed in Suli as she strapped Sankt Petyr and Sankta Alina to her forearms. She tried to quell the anxious shake of her hands while Sankta Marya and Anastasia were readjusted on her thighs. Sankt Vladimir fit snugly into her boot, making Inej wonder what her mother would say at the sight of her in Fabrikator-made boots, not Suli slippers. Sankta Lizabeta with her rose-engraved handle sat at her belt, hidden under the folds of her black Suli wrap.
When not in front of a roaring crowd, the Suli were a reserved people. Despite Tante Heleen’s disgusting portrayal of her culture, Inej still loved the vibrant colors of Suli dupattas and embroidered kurtas. When she felt the jerk of the anchor settling into place, Inej realized how long it had been since she dressed in chiffon and silk. She didn’t recognize the Suli woman staring in the mirror staring back at her. For one, the sleeves were tailored to be much longer than she would have normally needed during Ravkan summers. However, she didn’t want anyone to see the network of scars that decorated her skin from years of violence. The second thing that threw off her reflection was the way she’d styled her hair. Though she performed with her hair in a braided coil, Inej knew her mother loved it best when it was wild and loose. Finally, the last time she had seen herself like this was when she was still an innocent girl who yearned to grow into a talented acrobat.
Inej was now so fundamentally different from that child. If anything, the dupatta she was wearing felt like a costume.
Knocking forced her to turn away from her damned reflection.
“Adara aaen,” Inej called out, already knowing who it would be before he stepped into the room.
“I assume that means ‘come in,’” Kaz’s slim figure filled her doorway. He was dressed in an inmanulate suit as usual, gloved hands resting on top of his crow’s head cane and a smirk on his face.
“What?” Inej hadn’t realized the words had come out in Suli instead of Kerch. It was rare for her to mix the languages up like that. The fact that it had even happened spoke of her nerves. “I’m sorry. I’ve been trying to translate everything into Suli to get some last minute practice.”
Kaz’s arrogant look slipped and he shook his head. “No need to apologize. I love hearing you speak Suli.”
Inej forced a smile to her face. “If the Saints allow it, soon that’s all you're going to hear.” She looked out the port window, watching the lazy rays of sun dance along the sky. Somehow the Ravkan sky seemed to shine brighter than the Kerch one.
“Don’t slip away from me,” Kaz prompted her gently. She realized that she had started to float off into her own thoughts, something she’d found herself doing more and more the closer they’d gotten to shore.
“Are you ready?”
“No. But I don’t think I ever will be.”
“We don’t have to do this, not if you don’t want us to. I’ll go and ask Getz to take The Wraith right back if you’ve changed your mind, or we can take a trip to Nina’s instead. Whatever you want to do, I'll be here for you.”
Inej shook her head. “I might be terrified, but I want to do this. I just feel out of place in a Suli outfit after not having worn one in so long.” Her fingers pulled at one of the tightly knitted seams.
Kaz leaned his cane against the wall, closing the door behind him. He went up to Inej and turned her to face the mirror. “I don’t think your parents will be any less happy to see you if you wore a dupatta or a kefta or a sack. They’ll be too excited to see you.” Kaz’s arms wrapped around her waist and he pulled her body into his. Inej felt his warm, solid chest against her back. She inhaled his calming smell, grateful for his presence.
“In Suli, we have a saying for people who have betrayed their kind, who have disgraced them or turned their back on them. Kadema mehim. It’s the worst sort of punishment you could receive for your actions.” She shuddered at the thought of ever hearing those words said to her. Inej herself had only ever used them once.
“I am not the same little girl who was taken from them. They might realize that and see me as forsaken. As someone who has turned away from the Saints.”
Kaz brushed her hair off to one side to rest his head on her shoulder. Kaz’s reflection towered over Inej’s own in the mirror. His sable eyes looked stubborn and unwaveringly serious. “You are many things, Inej, but a traitor is not one of them. It’s true that you are not the same girl you were when they knew you. But they will see that you grew into a brave, strong woman who will stop at nothing to do what is right for the people she loves.
“They will see that you have fought against all the odds and have become an unstoppable force that they should feel blessed to have in their lives. They will love you, Inej. It is impossible for them to not love you.”
This time she didn’t stop the tears that slid down her cheeks. She took a shuddering breath and placed a hand against his jaw. The sharp line was lined with light stubble, but that didn’t stop her from running a finger against its curve. Her fingers traced the scar beneath the right edge of jaw, thinking about the other scars that peppered his skin. Many of those scars earned alongside her.
“They will love you, too, Kaz.” Inej knew that he was almost as nervous as she was to meet her family, though he would never voice it out loud.
“I wouldn’t be so sure about that.” He kissed her cheek and pulled away. “They might think of me as the man who corrupted their daughter.”
She shook her head. “No, they will think of you as the man who has made their daughter too happy to put into words.”
Kaz stared at his gloves, refusing to make eye contact. “Will they? Have I?”
It was her turn to reach out to him. Inej wrapped her hands around his neck. “Yes and yes. You have made their daughter happier than she ever thought possible.”
Kaz’s hands tentatively grabbed her waist. His eyes were on her lips but he didn’t move. Not until she did. Inej leaned up, catching his mouth with hers. The sounds of the crew and the ocean were replaced by the sound of her heart in her chest. Kaz was always gentle with her. His kisses were soft like the petals of spring and sweet like caramel. He held her like there was nothing that could ever separate them.
Inej sighed, melting into his every touch. It was impossible to feel anxious or scared in his arms. His fingers pressed into her silk wrap and Inej released a gasp. Kaz took that opportunity to take everything she gave him. Her skin suddenly burned. The sweetness was still there, dancing with a fiery spice that surprised her. They had rarely ever held each other this long without the waters swallowing him up.
His hands buried themselves in her long hair. Inej reached into his jacket, feeling the muscles beneath his white shirt. Kaz then broke away, breathing hard and shuddering. His face was flushed and his lips looked deliciously swollen.
Inej, realizing what they had done, began to apologize for having been too forward.
“No. It wasn’t you. Believe me, it wasn’t that.” Kaz shook his head, gloved hands holding hers against his chest.
“But if it wasn’t...why did you stop?” Inej could feel a blush spreading across her cheeks.
“I really didn’t want to,” Kaz’s gaze made goosebumps dance across her skin. “But we need to leave soon if we want to make it to Ivets before dark. And to be quite honest with you, Wraith, I’m not sure how far we would have gone this time. I really didn’t want to stop.”
Inej laughed. “Neither did I. It’s okay. We’ll have time another day. We have the rest of our lives to do that and so much more.”
“Captain,” Getz called from outside her door. “The crew’s settled and waiting for your orders.”
“Duty calls, Wraith.” Kaz’s smile was as sharp as ever. He adjusted the tie she’d crinkled.
Inej pulled her shoulders back, stepped through the doorway and told her crew that they could do as they pleased for a few hours. Within the next hour, she and Kaz were on their way to Ivets, the city where Nina had informed Inej her family would be performing for the next week. Every road they passed brought her closer and closer to her family. Inej could hardly contain her excitement and nervousness. While passing a crowded marketplace, Inej almost barreled into a group of children running across the street.
“Whoa, Inej,” Kaz called as he held her back from stepping into the walkway. “Careful. I know you’re excited to see your family, but even I think it’s a little much to trample a few children along the way.”
“Could you imagine that after getting back to Ketterdam, the Wraith and Dirtyhands voyaged all the way to some unknown city in Ravka just to run over a few children?” she joked, though her voice wavered enough for Kaz to notice.
“When you put it like that...” Kaz’s eyes had the same spark in them that always appeared right before a job. “While that does sound tempting, I think my bloodthirsty reputation will survive despite having let them live.”
By sunset, Inej could hear the pounding of Suli drums. They had passed through the heart of Ivets’ main city before reaching the boundary of an open field. A golden tent heavily embroidered with thick swirls rose high over the clearing. Inej’s breath caught in her throat at the familiar sound of Suli folk music floating outside of its flowing entrance. Sweet curling smoke filled the air with the smell of fried dough, glazed fruits, and…
The smell of her family gatherings to celebrate the Saints. She envisioned her mother, kind and beautiful, carrying baskets full of fresh vegetables for dinner. Her father, strong and brave, chopping potatoes alongside his wife. Her cousins fighting over plates of food. Her aunts handing out sticky sweets. Her uncles setting up place settings.
The music reminded her of the first time she stood on a tightrope. The bottomless drop that yawned beneath her and the open sky that blanketed her. How it felt to be covered in performance glitter and to curl her hair to fall around her round cheeks. She remembered scrapping her hands on trees, trying to beat her cousins to the top. How it felt to look over the Ravkan landscape and see nothing but endless opportunities.
After years of darkness, years of bloodshed, years of the staccato sounds of Kerch, Inej Ghafa was finally home.
Home...and rooted to her spot at the edge of the circus grounds. Ravkans stood in line, waiting to be let into the performance tent; the same tent that she had spent countless days in during the early years of her life. A bronze-skinned man stepped out of the tent, dressed in loose fitted black pants and a thick, colorful coat. His voice was deep and stern as he hollered the rules of the performance out into the crowd of people.
Inej stared in wonder, unsure about who the man was. Chaacha Jilé was the one who used to tame the crowds before they entered the performance area. The man at the entrance was not her uncle.
“Hanzi,” the name came to her with a jolt.
Inej was suddenly flying. Or at least that’s what it felt like as the grass was crushed beneath her racing feet. One minute, she was standing beside Kaz and the next, she was running straight to her cousin, pushing through the crowd of guests until she stood at the very front.
“Hanzi,” she said again, this time facing the man whom she now recognized.
Her cousin’s words died on his lips and he froze, arms limp at his sides as looked at her. “Inej?”
A sob escaped her. She could hear the sound of the crowd’s confusion but she didn’t care.
“Hanzi,” was all that she could say.
His face broke into a smile. A roaring shout came from him as he yelled in Suli. “Inej! Inej is here! Masi Calla! Chaacha Baraz! Inej is home!”
Tears streamed down her face at the sound of her parents’ names: Calla and Baraz. Mama and Papa. Inej waited anxiously as the longest few seconds of her life passed. She could see from the sliver opening in the flaps a flurry of motion. She caught her name be repeated and questions thrown. Hanzi shouted again, tears in his own eyes.
Inej’s whole world froze as Mama and Papa came through the entrance. They stepped out, first looking at her cousin with an agonizing look of hope and confusion on their faces.
“Mama. Papa.”
They turned towards Inej as she called out to them. Her mother’s face was more wrinkled than it had been when she’d been taken. Her hair was still long and elegantly braided to the side. Her father’s beard was mixed with grays where it was once solid black. He was clutching his wife’s shoulder, eyes landing on his daughter for the first time in four years.
“Inej.” He didn’t say her name like Hanzi had. He said it with such certainty and conviction that it made Inej’s knees give out from under her.
Before her body could fully hit the ground, her parents’ arms were around her. She buried her face in her mother’s shoulder and wrapped an arm around her father’s waist.
“Esfir,” her mother whispered in her ear. Inej couldn’t describe the relief and joy that flooded through her at the word.
Esfir was Suli for ‘little star.’ Late at night, they used to tuck her under her covers with a kiss. Her mother used to say that Inej was her little star and her father would explain that she was their guiding light.
Inej didn’t know how long they sat in the damp grass, crying and hugging and whispering to each other.
“I’m home,” she would say.
“You’re home.” One of them would repeat.
“I prayed to all of the Saints that you would find your way home to us.” Her father said.
“They called us fools. Said that we would never see you again. They told us that you were taken too far for us to ever reach you again,” her mother cried.
“Never,” Inej promised. “I will never be too far to come back home. The heart is an arrow. It demands aim to land true. My heart is here.”
After some time, Inej realized that the rest of her family had come outside of the tent. Night had fallen and the crowd was now gone. Her older cousins looked as if Sankt Juris had come down to blow his blue flames. Disbelief filled their faces. Some of her younger cousins looked just as shocked, though less afraid of her. Inej also noticed the soft coos of the newest editions to her family. One toddler who must have born within the first year she was at the Menagerie. Two more who looked as though they came along while she was in service with the Dregs.
The Dregs. Kaz.
Inej pulled away from her parents, realizing who else she had forgotten about for the second time that night.
“Mama. Papa. I didn’t come here alone,” her words scratched against her throat. She hadn’t realized the tears had dried out her voice until that moment.
Inej turned around, knowing that Kaz would have waited as long as she needed him to. He still stood towards the edge of the trees. Inej called out to him in Kerch.
Kaz came forward, trying his best not to look like Dirtyhands under the cover of night with his crow’s head cane and thick gloves. Though he no longer needed them with her, Inej knew that he wasn’t ready to hug every member of her teary-eyed family.
Kaz stood beside her. Inej took his hand in hers and squeezed tightly.
“This is Kaz.” Inej had practiced this speech so many times in her head. She had carefully racked her brain for the proper words in Suli to say what she needed to say.
“Kaz and I...we have been through too many things together to explain in one night. Most of the last four years have been cruel and lonely. Kaz has been one of the few good things to come into my life since I was fourteen,” her words choked off. “I ask that you be kind to him and embrace him as a part of my life. He has saved it in many ways over the years. In some ways, it is thanks to him that I am here.”
Her father stood from where he was still crouched in the grass. He approached Kaz, looking more serious than Inej had ever seen him look in her life. He stood a few inches shorter than Kaz, but still managed to look down at him.
“Do you speak Suli?” Baraz asked him.
“No-” Inej was cut off by Kaz.
“Not fluently, but I am learning.” Kaz shocked her by responding in fluid Suli instead of Kerch. He gave her side-eyed look, clearly enjoying the shocked look on her face.
Her father nodded. “Then I can thank you properly. For helping my daughter return to us.”
Kaz bowed his head. “Inej is the wisest, most determined person I have ever met. She would have found her way back to you with or without me.”
Baraz laughed, “Esfir is just like her mother in that way. Nothing stands in the way of her and what she wants.”
Inej smiled in relief. “That is true. And right now, what I want is some stuffed peppers and goulash made the proper Suli way.”
Her mother laughed, standing to embrace Inej once again. “You can have whatever you would like, Inej.”
“My turn!” Hanzi called out from the cluster of cousins closest to her. Inej turned to find him now barreling towards her.
Inej froze for a second, not feeling entirely comfortable with the tight embrace. She tried her best to laugh through the rush of panic. It hadn’t even occurred to her until that moment how her homecoming would be full of physical touching that she wasn’t entirely ready for.
Her arms didn’t move from her sides, but at least she didn’t pull away until he did. Hanzi didn’t seem to register her tight shoulders.
“I can’t believe you’re really back, Inej! What took you so long? Adja has been driving me crazy. She thinks that she’s in charge now because she can do a handstand on the highwire, but now that you’re back, you can prove to her that you’re in charge. I even reminded her that you used to be able to do an entire double front routine on the high wire without a net.” While her older cousin may have gotten older, he still rambled half made up tales as though he hadn’t aged a day.
“I don’t even have the energy to explain how wrong that is,” Inej shook her head at her cousin’s infectious joy. Hanzi had always been one of her favorites because, no matter what, he could always tell some ridiculous story to make her laugh.
“First of all,” a female voice interjected, “I’ve been able to do a handstand on the high wire for years. Second, all I said was that you weren’t in charge, Hanzi.” Adja said from behind him. She was only two years younger than Inej, but she had been terrified of the high wire. While Inej had danced around it barefoot, Adja refused to step onto one.
“Come on, Nej. Remind Adja who the real master is!”
“No,” Calla stood in between her daughter and her nephew. “Inej has only been with us for a few minutes and already you are trying to get her in trouble,” her mother chided Hanzi.
Kaz chuckled from behind her. It was clear from his expression that, while he wasn’t able to understand all of their conversation, the sound of an upset mother seemed to be universally understood.
“Come, Esfir. We’re going to have a proper welcome dinner,” her mother nodded towards the rest of her family. “Disah and Remen, go to the Ivetan market…”
Inej allowed her mother to assign everyone their tasks while she looked back at Kaz. He was smiling, looking proud of her, but she couldn’t tell why.
“What?” she asked him in quiet Kerch.
“You didn’t pull away when he hugged you,” he truly looked proud of her. Inej looked towards Hanzi worriedly.
“No. I didn’t exactly hug him back.” It would have been a lie to act as though she wasn’t disappointed in her reaction to Hanzi’s embrace. It was an unexpected reality of what she had endured all those years ago. “Do you think they noticed?”
“He was too excited to have you back to notice,” Kaz shook his head. “That’s not the point. The point is that you didn’t pull away. It wasn’t easy, but you did it, Inej. You’re home and your family couldn’t be more happy to see you.”
She took a deep breath. She hadn’t even realized that her nervousness had started to creep up on her after Hanzi’s hug until now. For a while there, she had forgotten about all of her anxieties. Now that her family had split itself into their roles to prepare for her homecoming diner, she had a quiet moment to be reminded of them.
That was when Kaz, ever supportive and aware of how she was feeling, stepped in to ease her nerves. “Kaz, do you think I should tell them the truth?”
“You don’t owe anyone any explanations. You tell them as much as you want to. It’s your story to tell.”
Inej had known long before that night on the rooftop that she was in love with Kaz. She had known for quite some time. As she stared into his honest eyes, surrounded by the sounds of her family, Inej was reminded of how deep her love for Kaz Brekker went.
“What did I ever do for the Saints to bless me with you,” she wondered out loud.
It was hard to tell with the pale moonlight as her only source of light, but for a moment, Inej thought that she saw Kaz’s face blush. His gaze left her and landed on the starry Ravkan sky.
“I ask myself the same question about you every day that we are together, Inej.”
“Nej!” Adja yelled from the performance tent. “Masi Calla asked me to help you and your...friend...find new clothes.”
Inej looked down at her Suli dupatta. “What’s wrong with what we have on now?”
Adja eyed the Wraith and Dirtyhands with pursed lips. “You both look as though you’re going to a funeral. Tonight is a party, Nej. You need to be dressed in party clothes. Now let's go, Masi might cut the wire during our next performance if I don’t get you both dressed in time.”
Inej remembered how her mother used to fuss over her dirty silks when she came back inside from an afternoon spent playing outside. “You’re right. Mama would absolutely do something like that.”
“Where are we going?” Kaz asked her, keeping up with her hurried steps with his usual ease.
Inej glanced at him. “Oh, so you suddenly don’t speak Suli anymore?” They walked around the performance tent to the line of caravans far behind it.
Kaz smirked arrogantly. “I never said I did. Just that I was learning. You didn’t think that I was going to come and meet your entire family without at least attempting to familiarize myself with the language, did you? It’s not that difficult to memorize a few phrases here and there.”
She pushed him lightly with her shoulder. “How about on the boat? Were you faking then?”
Kaz shook his head. “Technically, I wasn’t faking. I know some words and phrases, but not everything. Not yet. Give me a few weeks with your family and I’ll be fluent.”
Inej rolled her eyes. “Not a chance, Brekker. My language is too poetic for a shevrati like you to con your way in that short amount of time. Memorizing a few parables is not the same thing as being able to use all the beautiful nuances we have.”
“It would be easier if I had some help from a beautiful and smart teacher.”
“You’re right. I think Hanzi would probably be willing to sign up.”
“It’s rude to speak in another language, you know,” Adja said from in front of them. The three of them finally stopped in front of Adja’s family caravan.
Kaz shot a glance at her cousin. Inej translated and he apologized in Suli.
“Not you,” Adja nodded towards Inej. “I meant Nej. She was always a quiet one, you know. At least you got her talking.”
Kaz nodded along pleasantly thought it was clear he didn’t understand. When Inej explained, his bitter coffee eyes looked amused.
“I wasn’t quiet, Adja. Hanzi was just usually screaming over me about nothing.”
Adja giggled and unlocked the door. “That is probably true. I was thinking, you should fit in my outfit from Sankta Day last year instead of just a normal dupatta. As for Ka-s,” she stumbled on his Kerch name, “He can borrow Papa’s performance kurta.”
Kaz looked somber, but didn’t argue. “Chaacha Micta used to make some interesting fashion choices,” Inej explained to him as her cousin went in search of the outfits.
“How so?”
Inej bit her lip, holding back laughter. “Let’s just say that he probably could take a few tips from Jesper.”
His eyes widened. “Inej-”
It was too late. Adja emerged from behind a curtain carrying multiple pieces of thick fabric. For Inej, she had a neatly folded Anarkali suit of rich burgundy. Sparkling gold embroidery lined the long, slightly flared skirt and traced the cuffs of the fitted sleeves. A light, white and gold wrap also came with the outfit. On top of it sat a pair of high heels that matched the wine-colored clothes. Inej took the clothes into her hands, feeling the soft yet firm fabrics that were saved for more festive clothing in her culture.
“It might be a little long for you,” Adja eyed Inej’s smaller frame. “But it will do.”
“Thank you, Adja.”
She shrugged off her cousin’s thanks. Her other hand still held Kaz’s outfit. He was standing dangerously still beside Inej. His face was blank of any reaction, but Inej could only imagine what was going through his head. While her outfit was designed with elegance and grace in mind, Kaz’s was made for a true showman. Or at least for a color blind one.
Chaacha Micta had a performance kurta that was radiant white with orange and green gems cascading down the sleeves. Sunset colored pants were folded to match the sparkling jewels. It was both bright and sparkly, two things Kaz hated in clothing.
“Dhanyavaad,” Kaz mimicked Inej’s Suli to thank Adja. Inej was reminded of how good of a liar he was because if she hadn’t known better, she would have thought Kaz looked almost excited to wear her uncle’s kurta.
Adja beamed, looking between the two. “I don’t think Chaacha Baraz or Masi Calla would be okay with me leaving you two in here alone to change but…” Her cousin broke off and shrugged. “If you brought, Ka-s all the way here, I have to assume that it is not the first time you’ve been left alone.”
Heat flooded Inej’s cheeks. She couldn’t meet Adja’s eyes when she nodded. “It’s okay. Mama and Papa won’t know if you don’t tell.”
Adja continued to look between them. It was the same look Nina had given them before Inej had actually opened up about her relationship with Kaz. A look that said that Adja could see something they couldn’t. She was used to getting that look from her friends or other Dregs, but it was a little unnerving to see that look in the eyes of someone she hadn’t seen in years.
“Just don’t take too long. Chaacha and Masi will seriously cut the rope if they find out about this,” she pointed between Kaz and Inej. She swiftly ran out of the caravan, giggling at Inej’s eye roll.
Once she was out the door, Inej’s focus was back on Kaz. His polite smile dropped with Adja out of sight.
Kaz spoke seriously, “Inej, you know that I care for you deeply. More than anything in this world, I care for you.”
Warmth filled her heart, but her eyebrows scrunched in confusion.
“Because I care for you, I want your family to like me.”
“I already told you-”
“Yes, I know. I’m wonderful. A trickster god amongst men. But that’s not what I’m worried about.”
“Then what is it?”
Kaz looked at her in disbelief. “Do you even have to ask me that question? This,” Kaz raised the clothes in his hands to meet her eye level. “I’ve never seen anything so…”
Laughter burst out from Inej. She quickly moved to cover her mouth with her hands, but there was no concealing the way her body shook from amusement.
“That is a traditional Suli kurta, Kaz. It’s an important part of my culture.”
He shook his head. “I have seen kurtas. This does not look like that. This looks like some nightmare Jesper and Nina would have designed.”
“Poor Dirtyhands is too insecure to wear something so dazzling,” Inej placed a hand on his cheek. She ran a finger down the sharp cut of his jawline. “I’m sure you’ll look great. Not as good as Chaacha would in it, but a close second.”
Kaz’s eyes held a playful fury. His ebony eyes only ever fixed on her that way. It was a look that promised both a punishment and sweet reward for her words.
“If the Dregs ever find out about this…”
A wicked smile broke onto her face. “I can’t imagine how they would. I keep all your secrets.”
“Don’t even think about telling them, Wraith.” One of Kaz’s arms found her waist.
“Jesper, on the other hand,” her fingers moved to run through his hair. “Jesper is a bit of a big mouth. If this somehow got to him, I don’t think there is any way of stopping him.”
“I can think of at least twelve different ways I could stop him with this kurta alone.” His face moved closer to hers.
Inej turned so his lips landed on her cheek. “No time for that, Brekker. We have to get dressed.”
He sighed and gave the bedazzled shirt a weary look. “If you ever doubt how I feel about you, Inej, just remember this moment.” Before she could respond, Kaz gestured towards the room Adja had gone into to find the clothes. “I’ll change in there.”
Time and time again, Kaz reminded her of why she fell for him in the first place. He had seen every part of her and touched almost all of her, yet Kaz never made assumptions about her limits. No matter how far they had or hadn’t gone, Kaz always asked for permission. On the nights when all she could do was hold his hand, he never pushed her to go further. Even now, after what had happened on the boat and having had met her family, Kaz gave Inej the privacy she needed without hesitation.
With Kaz gone from her sight, Inej was left to unstrap her daggers and quickly dressed into Adja’s Anarkali suit. After a few minutes, Inej stopped hearing Kaz’s quiet cursing.
“I’m almost ready.” She called to him through the curtain.
He shuffled around on his side of the caravan. “This looks even worse than I imagined.”
Inej ignored him, debating whether or not to strap on her beloved blades for the feast.
“Inej?”
“I’m almost ready, you can come out.”
Kaz had been right. The kurta had looked worse than she had imagined. The shirt hung at little too loose from his slight frame, but the pants were too short for his tall stature. They stopped just above his ankles, showing a peak of his white socks.
“Oh.” Inej cringed. “You were not joking.”
Kaz looked at her intently. “You look beautiful, Inej.”
Inej had yet to see herself in the mirror, but Kaz’s reaction was all she needed to confirm what she had already suspected. Adja was slim like Inej but stood a few inches over Inej . The rest of her outfit fit as it was tailored to. The top complimented her figure while the bottom flared out into an elegant skirt that pooled around Inej’s feet more than she would have normally allowed. It wasn’t perfect, but she loved it regardless.
“Traditionally, I would have special Sankta Day earrings that have some sort of token to represent a Saint.” Inej absentmindedly tugged at her ears. “Though, I haven’t worn any earrings since leaving the Menagerie.”
His look softened. Kaz forgot all about his unfortunate attire. “Would you like to? I’m sure Adja would let you borrow hers.”
“The holes have closed by now. It’s okay. I don’t need them. I have these.” She slid Sankt Petyr, the dagger he had given her so long ago, into place. She tried to ignore the fact that it took her far less time to strap all seven of her blades into place than it had to properly dress herself in the Sankta Day skirt.
“I’ll tell Adja we’re ready.”
“Wait,” Kaz’s fingers intertwined with hers. He reached into the pocket of his pants and pulled out a matingkia made of expensive gold and rich-colored stones. It was simple, as far as Suli headpieces went, with one clear diamond in the middle of a small ruby flower.
“Kaz,” Inej’s breath caught in her throat. “Where did you find this?” Her fingers curved delicately around the precious metal.
“A vendor in Ketterdam had a tent full of Suli jewelry. He has a Suli wife that makes all the items to sell.”
“Do you believe him?” It was more than possible that the vendor’s story was a ruse to get more money from gullible tourists visiting the island.
“I’ve met her.”
“You did?”
“Yes. When I asked her to make this one for you.”
The matingka felt heavier in her hand than it had moments ago. “You asked her to make this for me?” Inej tried to envision Dirtyhands entering a Kerch market to meet with an ederlly Suli woman. She thought of how long he must have spent picking the design, and then jewels to place in it.
“I don’t know what to say,” she whispered to him. “She’s clearly very talented.”
Kaz tried not to look too smug which was a change for him. “Only the best for my Wraith.”
“Sometimes we wear them for special holidays.” Inej debated whether or not to say the next part. She didn’t want to make him uncomfortable by making any assumptions. “These are traditionally given to Suli women by their father or husbands.”
She saw him nod nervously. “I know. The woman, Gintha, explained to me the tradition. She said fathers would give them to their daughters and pray that the Saints would give them wisdom as they grew into strong women.”
“Did she tell you why husbands give them to their brides?” She couldn’t deny the fear or eagerness that she felt waiting for his answer.
“To symbolize the love and respect he promises to show her every day after they are wed. The same love and respect that I have felt for you every day for too many years to count.”
Inej’s body was frozen with emotion. Love. Kaz loved her. He didn’t just love her. He respected her. Respected her boundaries and dreams and goals.
“Nej! Are you done yet?” Adja suddenly banged against the door of the caravan.
The reality of her situation flooded back to Inej. For a few moments, she had forgotten who she was. Where she was. Inej took the head piece, not bothering to hide her flustered look as she pushed Kaz back behind the curtain.
“Get out of those clothes. Hurry!” Kaz laughed and she realized how her words sounded. “No! That’s not what I meant. I mean change back into yours! My family will just have to deal with your Kerch suit during dinner.”
She rushed back to the door and let Adja in. “I’m almost ready.”
Adja looked her up and down. “It fits better than I thought. And Ka-s?”
“The clothes didn’t fit him so he’s changing back into his. Here,” she handed Adja the matingka. “Can you help me put this on?”
“Did he give this to you?” she pointed towards the curtain.
“Yes. Now help me put it on. I’ve never put one on myself. Papa only ever put it on me once.”
Adja waved her off. “It’s easy.” She spun Inej around and took a few hair pins from her own brown hair to fasten it into place. “There! Done! Just in time.”
Kaz walked into the room, looking much less miserable now that he was dressed in his own clothes.
“Tell her that her father’s wardrobe should be burned.”
“He says that he loved the kurta and is sorry that it didn’t fit,” Inej easily lied. “Also your tie is crooked again.”
He cursed under his breath and nervously put into place as her cousin spoke.
Adja beamed at her. “I don’t believe that’s true, but it doesn’t matter. Come on! Everyone is waiting for you.”
Inej’s stomach turned over nervously. She had been so overcome with emotions when she’d first greeted her family. Those emotions were starting to settle, but in their place grew the seeds of anxiety once again.
Inej and Kaz trailed behind Adja as they made their way back from the caravan section of their carnival to the performance area. Inej looked around the cool night air, keeping track of all the things that looked familiar and different at the same time.
She pointed to a smaller performance tent made of a thick white sheet. “What’s that?” she asked Adja.
“We started to tour with a second family about two years ago. Hanzi is engaged to the daughter of their paira vaala.” A breeze opened the flap of the white tent and Inej could see the bed of coals used for the paira vaala, or fire walker.
“Hanzi’s getting married?” Inej couldn’t imagine her cousin as she had last known him having a fiancé. He was always too loud and playful when around his family, but unearthly quiet around other girls their age.
“I know! We were all just as surprised as you were. Chaacha Jilē almost fainted.”
“He didn’t tell them that he was seeing her?” Inej’s surprise only grew. While she may not have gotten her parents’ permission before choosing to be with Kaz, her situation hadn’t given the option of choosing the favored Suli traditions.
“He didn’t even tell me! And I’m his favorite bhara. At least I have been since you…” Left? Were taken? Disappeared? Inej could hear the end of Adja’s sentence even if her cousin didn’t want to fill it in.
“I remember that,” Inej awkwardly filled the silence. She pointed to a section of tents reserved for carnival games. “Kila,” one of their older cousins, “once bet me thirteen kruge that I couldn’t win every game in the tent.”
“Kroog?” It wasn’t until the word left Adja’s mouth that Inej realized that she’d forgotten the Suli word for currency or money. It was such a small thing to forget, but it made her stop in her tracks.
“I-” she started to explain. “I’m sorry. I guess I just haven’t used that word in Suli in a few years. Uhm,” Inej racked her brain, digging deep into her memories to find the right word.
“What’s wrong?” Kaz, who had been silently listening to their conversation, spoke up. He couldn’t understand them, but he could see Inej’s face change. “I think I heard you say ‘kruge.’”
She shook her head, momentarily confused as Suli and Kerch collided with each other in her head. Rupe. The word finally came to her in a blunt memory. “I forgot the Suli word for money,” she said to him in Kerch and then explained it to her cousin again.
“Oh!” Adja didn’t seem fazed by her cousin’s slip up. “Kila was such a gambler. A terrible one too. Though I guess he doesn’t need to worry about that anymore. He married a wealthy Shu family. How he wiggled his way into that, I have no idea.”
Inej nodded along as Adja rambled. She was no longer listening to her cousin’s end of the conversation. Instead, she began filing through the mental dictionary in her brain. What other words had she forgotten?
Bread? Roti. Butterfly? Titali. Bowl? Katora. Horse? Ghora. Ocean? Samudara.
Random words were tossed and turned in her head. Adja continued to talk about their uncles and aunts. She went through family gossip as quickly as Nina went through maple-drizzled waffles. Inej didn’t hear any of it. All she could hear was the sound of her Suli-Kerch dictionary flipping page after page.
Torsion wrench? What was the Suli word for the little tool she had used numerous times to pick a lock? Had she ever known the word? Had she ever needed to use that word in her native language before? Would she even need to say torsion wrench during dinner tonight?
Ketterdam isn’t all that bad. At least I learned how to pick locks using a torsion wrench.
No, there was no way she could even imagine herself saying something like that to her family. Inej realized that she had let her nerves run a little too wild. Adja hadn’t even noticed when she said “kruge” instead of “rupe”. The odds of her family being upset with her for not remembering a word here and there were small.
Kaz tugged on the fabric of her skirt, drawing her attention to him once again. His dark eyes met hers, silently asking her once again if she was okay. This time she didn’t have to force a smile on her face to reassure him.
“How did Mama put together a dinner so quickly?” Inej said the moment the smell of paprika, garlic and bell peppers hit her. They had circled back around to the performance tent. Instead of it holding a crowd of entertained Ravkans, tonight, the tent would be used to spread out a Saints-worthy feast.
Adja beamed at her. “Masi Calla asked all of our masis and chaachas that were cooking dinner for after the show to add extra coals to the fires. Some of the food had to be bought from the markets so it won’t be exactly like you’re used to, but it’s all that we could get together so quickly.”
“It’s perfect. You could have fed me rocks and I would have been just as happy to be home.”
The heavy tent flaps were pulled wide open and she could see dark-haired figures moving frantically around the tent. The round seats used for audience members were stacked on top of each other. Inej remembered how long it took to carry the iron seats from the caravans to place them in their rows. She had been too small to carry them herself, so she would hold the bottom half of a stack while Hanzi carried the brunt of the weight.
The high ropes were still strung up from their looming poles. She itched to climb up and test her technique. The chaacha who had first taught her how to balance was strict about proper posture. Though she had no real use for it when sleuthing for the Dregs, she could still hear his sharp calls to straighten her spine or keep her gaze forward.
“Make room! Inej the Great has entered the tent!” Hanzi exclaimed. His voice cut through the flurry of her family’s movement. Inej realized why her uncle had stepped down to let Hanzi handle the crowds. His deep voice was effective when it came to getting a crowd’s attention.
Toffee and hazel eyes all met hers. All of her family, almost twice as many as earlier, froze where they were to stare at her and Kaz. His gloved fingers curved in hers, but no one seemed to care at that gesture as much as they cared about the dazzling headpiece sparkling in the candlelight. Her parents had tears in their eyes as if it was the first time they were seeing her again. Inej had to hold back tears of her own. She saw the circle of food splayed out around the lush carpets dragged from Saints know where to cushion the hard ground.
Sarma, stuffed peppers, bogacha, and xaimoko were still in their metallic cooking pots, steaming as if the fire had just been dosed from under them. Pirogo and xaritsa sat in porcelain crockery that Inej suspected came from the Ivetan market her cousin had mentioned. Silver kettles of chao filled the room with a lingering sweet smell. Dark cups of kafa were already served and in the hands of some to her cousins.
The meal flooded her with too many memories to catch at once. She was swimming in a stream of random memories. Her tongue burning from spicy stuffed peppers and then from chugging a fresh cup of chao in a vain attempt to ease the sting. Mama teaching her how to prepare the sarma properly. Papa stiring a pot of goulash.
“Why are you just standing there? Come! Sit!” Papa gestured to a spot right in front of Inej’s favorite platter.
She blinked back tears. No more tears. Tonight was for celebrating all that she had come back to, not for mourning the years she had lost.
“Some of it had to be bought so it won’t taste exactly like you remember but-” Her mother rushed to her side, holding her daughter’s hand and pulling her and Kaz towards her father.
“Mama, I don’t care how the food tastes. This is already so much more than I could ask for. Just being with you and Papa and everyone else is enough for me.”
Her mother’s dark brows furrowed. She took great pride in her cooking, as a Suli should. “Yes, yes, but still...If you had sent us some sort of message so we could have been prepared, the food would have all been ready. We would have canceled the show much sooner. But no, leave it to our little Esfir to show up as if the Saints had let her fall from their very sky at random.” The novelty of Inej’s arrival was definitely wearing off if her mother was already scolding her.
She laughed despite her mother’s pointed words. Inej settled in her seat comfortably. Kaz sat beside her, looking so out of place in this bright colored tent surrounded by equally colorful kurtas. She couldn’t believe the sight in front of her. Kaz Brekker being handed a steaming cup of chao in his crisp, black suit.
Her own hands were already clutching a plate overflowing with food. Her father had served her heaping spoonfuls of every dish that sat before her. He paused, looking at Kaz curiously.
“Eh...food?” Her father surprised her with the Kerch word. She hadn’t known he spoke any Kerch.
Kaz nodded, “Krpya.”
Her father looked excited by his answer. He piled almost as much food on his plate as he had on hers. Kaz was excellent at hiding his emotions, but there was no hiding the amusement in his eyes. He took the plate with open arms. Everyone, including Inej, watched as Kaz lifted a fork to take a scoop of the rice-stuffed green pepper. He didn’t even flinch at what she could assume to be the spiciest bite of food he’d ever had. He chewed slowly, ignoring the flush that creeped up his neck. Judging from the smell, her family hadn’t held back when it came to spices that night. Finally he smiled, thanking her father for the food.
That seemed to be the cue her family had been waiting for. Everyone unfroze and went for a plate.
Kaz waited until they were no longer staring at him to reach for the tea. She had to bite back a laugh as he gulped down the entire cup.
“Spicy?” She asked, already knowing the answer.
Kaz looked at her as if she had grown an extra ear. “Spicy? Inej, I thought I was going to die.”
This time she couldn’t hold back the laugh. Everything about the night filled her with so much joy and laughter that Inej had to put down her food for a second. Her stomach burned from the giggles that shook her body. Kaz was actually blushing as her cousins closests to her looked at them.
“Kaz said the food almost killed him.” She explained to them. “The Kerch prefer their food much less seasoned. Mostly a hint of salt and pepper. It’s actually very sad.”
All of them broke out into smiles.
Her mother who was still standing behind them said, “Tell Ka-s that he’ll have to get used to real food if he’s decided to stay with you.” She placed a hand on Kaz’s shoulder affectionately.
Kaz, clearly not expecting the sudden touch, went still. His body tensed beneath the touch and his jaw tightened. Her mother noticed the change in his posture and jerked her hand back. She looked at her daughter quickly, but Inej could see the hurt and confusion in her eyes even if it was just for a second.
“It’s not you, Mama.” She rushed to explain for Kaz. His eyes had dropped to the plate resting on his lap.
“I told you that our life in Ketterdam wasn’t easy.” She tried to find a way of explaining without revealing too much of Kaz’s past. “He isn’t used to people touching him unless they’re trying to hurt him. Give him time, Mama.” That part was at least true.
Her mother nodded, looking apologetic but no less confused. This time she was looking at the visible scars along Inej’s arms. Her cousin’s outfit didn’t hide them the way her earlier outfit had.
Hanzi, who was watching the whole exchange from across the tent, spoke out. “What was it like, Nej? In Ketterdam?”
His father, Chaacha Jilé, used a serving spoon to give him a hard tap on the head. “Hanzi!”
“What? We were all thinking it!”
His father shook his head. “You know better than to ask that kind of question.”
“It’s okay.” Inej cut in before her uncle could use the spoon again. “Hanzi is right. You all want to know what happened. I don’t blame you.”
“See!” Hanzi pointed a vindicated finger towards Inej.
“Hush!” His father waved the spoon in front of his son.
She bit back a smile and continued. Inej looked at Kaz. His rigid spine loosened a bit, but he still looked a bit on edge. “I’m going to tell them.”
A small smile tugged on his mouth. “You know I support whatever decision you make.”
It was all the encouragement she needed. “Mama, Papa, you may want to sit down. It’s a long story and most of it isn’t pleasant.”
Her mother worriedly sat beside her. Her father put an arm around her shoulders, physically supporting his wife in the same way Kaz had just supported her.
“I was taken by slavers. They broke in and took me just as the sun had started to rise. They brought me to Ketterdam, where I was sold to a heartless woman who made me do unspeakable things for terrible men. Kaz worked for a group of young men trying to build a new business and went to meet with the woman at the request of his boss. I realized I could escape with his help, so I offered him my skills as an acrobat. He agreed to employ me legally and without having to do any of the things that I was doing there. He taught me how to defend myself. I worked as his spy and I was good at it.
“Ketterdam… it can be an ugly place that brings the ugliness out of even the best people. I’ve done things I pray the Saints will one day forgive me for; but I’m not the same girl I was when I was taken. If I was, I don’t think I would have made it through the first night in that city. I will never be that girl again, no matter how hard I try. And I’m sorry if that’s not what you want to hear, but it’s the truth.
“I was able to eventually afford a ship and a crew to run it. Now, I'm the captain of a crew of people dedicated to keeping other people from having to go through what I went through. I hope that the work I do at sea can help weaken any shadows I have created during my years in Ketterdam.”
Inej had, of course, changed a few details in her story. There was no way she was going to tell her entire family that the “business” Kaz was running was actually a deadly street gang. She was also never going to explain to them exactly how good at her job she had gotten. They would never understand the things she had done. In fact, if they could see the crimson stains on her hands, they’d probably be so repulsed that they would kick her out on the spot.
Her mother was crying again. Her father looked heartbroken as if all of his worst fears had come true.
“Inej…” Adja spoke first. “I’m so sorry you had to go through that.”
Inej was surprised to realize that she wasn’t in tears as she feared she would have been. “It’s not your fault.” She looked at her parents, realizing that they must have carried some guilt with her disappearance just as she carried the shame of the things she had done.
“Nor is it yours. We couldn’t have known those slavers were going to break into our home. You two did everything you were supposed to. When things were at their worst, I could hear your voices teaching me how to pray to the Saints. I was able to survive so long because I always carried the hope you taught me to hold on to. The hope that I would one day return to you.”
Her father looked furiously stubborn as he said, “And you have. You are home, Inej. That’s all that matters. We don’t care what you had to do to get here. As long as you are here with us again.”
“The Saints don’t punish actions done to survive.” Her mother agreed. “You don’t need to ask them or us for forgiveness. Forgiveness is earned, Inej, and you have been through more than enough to deserve it. We know you. We know you have a good heart. We love who you are now because it brought you back to us.”
“You will always be our esfir.” Her father held his daughter's trembling hands.
Those words were like the first bite of bread after a year long fast. Inej hadn’t realized how much she needed to hear them, or how much it would mean to hear them from her parents. Her father’s touch didn’t wipe away any of the blood on her hands nor did it take away the dark memories she would always carry. But it did make her feel hopeful for the future. For so long she feared that she could never return home; she feared her family would reject the woman she was sharpened into. Her parents didn’t look like they were ready to throw her out. In fact, they looked like they were ready to hold her tighter than ever.
“Wait a second,” Hanzi once again drew all the attention in the room back to him. “You said you were a spy and now a ship captain?”
Inej wiped a stray tear from her cheek. “Yes.”
“And that Ka-s...runs a business?”
“Yes, Hanzi.”
He looked suspiciously between Kaz and Inej. Then at the leather gloves and silver crow’s head of his cane. His jaw dropped. “Inej, you’re not saying what I think you’re saying, are you?”
She bit her lip, unsure of how to answer.
“He knows, doesn’t he?” Kaz’s gravelly voice was full of pride at being recognized.
“Don’t look so smug. I don’t think he recognized you until I said that I was a ship captain.”
“INEJ!”
She turned back to Hanzi. He was almost buzzing with excitement to hear her answer. “Are you who I think you are? Is he who I think he is?”
Her mother narrowed her eyes at her nephew.“Inej is whoever she wants to be. As for Ka-s, he’s Inej’s...”
Inej looked to Kaz for the answer. They had never felt the need to use a word to explain their relationship. Everyone on their tiny stretch of an island knew better than to question Dirtyhands or the Wraith. Their friends didn’t need an explanation. What she shared with Kaz went deeper than anything she could describe.
“What?”
“They want to know what you are to me.”
“Then tell them.”
“What do you want me to tell them?”
“What do you want to tell them?”
“That you’re the person I love most in this world.”
His smile was blinding. “I’m more than okay with that answer.”
“Kaz is my heart.”
Adja cooed, clutching her heart. Her mother looked approvingly at Kaz. Her father looked relieved by the answer. Hanzi still looked unsatisfied by it.
“Why are you all just staring at us? Let’s eat!” She mimicked her father’s earlier remark. The silence was once again filled with her family’s celebratory cheers.
“Thank you for coming with me. I couldn’t have done this without you.”
Kaz looked smug. “I love you.”
Inej smiled, looking around the circle of happiness brought together by a bond that went deeper than blood. “I love you, too.”
A/N Pt 2: Hi hello! If you happened to have read this before January 2, 2020 then you might remember that there used to be a long paragraph at the end of this fic where I acknowledged all of the cultures that I read about as inspiration to flesh out the Suli culture in this fic. Welp, because Tumblr enjoys to make life difficult, it actually decided to erase the entirety of this fic, leaving only the title. Why? I have no idea!!!! But that means I had to do everything and luckily I had all of the fic saved except for this second A/N bc I added it in right before uploading. While I’m incredibly annoyed by Tumblr glitch and am not able to fully write the original acknowledgment, I still want to give add a smaller version of the previous one.
All of cultures I drew from for this fic can be found listed here. The Suli language was a modified mixture of Hindi and Punjabi. The foods are mostly Romani in origin. The names are a mixture of Turkish, Hindi, Romani, and Slavic names. The clothing have all been specifically named. The head piece Inej wore was directly inspired by a South Asian maang tikka however out of respect for this real cultural practice, I changed the name/origin for the fic. Any parables/customs/religious beliefs explained in the fic are completely fictional that were either pulled directly from the SOC series or made up for this fic. Any connection/similarities to real cultural practices are completely coincidental unless I specifically said so. I believe that was everything important that I had in the original acknowledgment. I’m so sorry if anything was left out. If you do feel that I forgot to mention anything in this rewritten version, please let me know and I’ll do my best to fix it immediately! 
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atc74 · 6 years ago
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Walk Me Home
Square(s) Filled: Haunted House for @spnaubingo and Free Angst for @spngenrebingo
Warnings: Straight up angst, mental illness, psychotic break, haunted house (and all the spooky stuff that comes with it), mental institution
Summary: Y/N has crushed on Dean for five years and he finally asks her out, to the last place she wants to go. She agrees, but for a first date, the night doesn’t end anything like either of them hoped it would. 
Pairing: Teen!Dean x Reader, Doctor!Dean
Word Count: 1226
Written for: @spnaubingo and @spngenrebingo
Beta’d by: @just-another-busyfangirl and @alleiradayne, thank you ladies! You make me better than I was yesterday. 
A/N: I was listening to P!nk’s new song, Walk Me Home, the other day and a terrible thought came to me. This is the result and a bit different form my usual style. Hope you like it!
Like Dean’s scent? Buy it here from @scentsfromthebunker!
When you hear psychosis, you might think of a break from reality. You’re not wrong. Clinically speaking, psychosis is disruptions to one’s thoughts and perceptions that make it challenging for them to recognize what is real and what isn’t. These disruptions can materialize as seeing, hearing, and even believing things that aren’t real. One may even have strange, persistent thoughts, behaviors, and emotions. Everyone she knew and loved said her fears were irrational, but to Y/N, they were frighteningly lucid.
“Come on, Y/N. It’ll be fun,” Dean brought it up walking her home from school that sunny autumn afternoon.
“Dean, I don’t like haunted houses. I don’t think so.” She shook her head and picked up her pace, but Dean gently pulled on her wrist.
“I won’t let anything bad happen to you. I’ll be right by your side and hold your hand the whole time,” Dean whispered in the still air between them. He took a step closer to her. “I promise.”
She looked up to see his bright green eyes staring back at her, twinkling in the afternoon sun. She couldn’t believe her ears. For five years they had been friends and for five years she wished to hear those words from his full lips. She nodded, believing his promise to keep her safe.
The haunted house was frightening from the outside. The dirty gray paint was peeling from the siding. The wooden shutters hung awry, framing the dilapidated windows like ghoulish eyes peering out into the night. Y/N wrapped her jacket and her arms tighter around her midsection, a shiver running through her. Dean glanced down and, sensing her apprehension, slipped his arm around her, holding her close to his side. She curled into his lean body, possibly for warmth, definitely for comfort. They had yet to reach the entrance.
All around her, eerie sounds floated by, flooding her ears with their amplified terror. Screams, moans, groans, and howls pumped out of the sound system, deafening her, enhancing her fears. Red eyes glared at her from the grime covered windows. The labyrinth of walkways led them through the intricate lattice work of webbing, which stuck to her hair and clothes. Through the bright flashes of the strobe above them, Dean reached out his hand to brush the tacky lengths from her cheek. Y/N looked up to meet his gaze, to thank him for the gesture, when his eyes flashed golden in the darkness.
Her hand flew to her mouth, a shriek left her lips only to be drowned out by the ghastly screams surrounding her. Y/N turned to run, but Dean reached out and hugged her close to him. “Hey, hey. Shhhh, it’s okay. I got you. It’s okay.” His warm hand held hers, tight around her waist, his other hand firmly on her back to guide her to the exit.
Y/N burst through the door, the cool air filled her lungs with deep burning breaths. Dean was right beside her, breathing along with her, grounding her to reality.
“I’m so sorry. I guess I didn’t realize when you said you didn’t like haunted houses, that it was bad. I’m sorry. Let’s get you home,” Dean whispered words of comfort.
“Walk me home?  It’s the dead of night?” she murmured, her eyes closed tight, as she kept her hold on Dean’s arm. “I can’t be alone with all that’s on my mind.”
“Yeah, of course. I wouldn’t let you walk home alone,” Dean confirmed, his hand firm on her shoulder.
Y/N had never cared for this time of year and all that came with it. The darkness, the pranks, the inherent evil that came with the night. “Say you’ll stay with me tonight, cause there is so much wrong going on outside.” The sights and sounds of the haunted house stayed with her and she was unable to shake the thoughts running through her mind.
“I promise I won’t go anywhere,” Dean’s words rang in her ear, a promise of safety and warmth as her house came into view.
Bright lights flooded the rooms as Y/N led the way, flipping each switch as they passed. At her insistence, Dean waited with bated breath as she readied for bed, afraid to close the door. With a sure and steady hand, he covered her with a blanket, a cup of tea waiting beside the overstuffed chair she settled into.
With an alert eye, Dean waited. Y/N dozed, her slumber restless as she tossed her head side to side. Her brow furrowed, beaded with sweat as she jolted awake, a scream ripping from her throat. Dean was by her side in a second, his eyes and mind weary from keeping a vigilant watch over her.
“Y/N! Wake up. It’s just a dream, it’s okay. You’re safe,” Dean spoke softly, kneeling beside her chair. “I’m here.”
“Dean? Wha-wh-where am I?” Y/N’s eyes darted around the room. Several people in hospital scrubs loitered around them, their eyes wide in shock, fear and surprise at the sudden outburst.
“You’re at Harmony Manor, your home for the last fifteen years. You remember me?” His worried eyes studied her face as recognition dawned on her.
“We were at a haunted house and I got sc-scared and y-you he-held m-me.” Y/N struggled to get the words out of her disorganized mind. “We’re friends.”
“Yes, Y/N. I’m your friend. How about we get you back to your room, okay?” Dean’s voice was soft as he helped her to her feet.
“I’m scared, Dean. How did I get here? Walk me home?” Y/N thoughts were jumbled, feelings mixed together. She remembered Dean. Her heart soared, remembering how she felt in his arms that night, but discombobulated memories flashed before her eyes.
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(pic not mine, found on google)
“Y/N, I’m Doctor Dean Winchester. You’ve been my patient for the last five years. We were on a date at that haunted house that night, you remember that?”
Recognition crossed her features and she nodded, allowing Dean to continue.
“You got scared and I took you home. You fell asleep and woke to a nightmare. By the time your parents arrived home, you were hysterical and thought there were monsters in the house. You had a psychotic break from reality. For the first ten years, your treatment stalled, but when I arrived here and took over your care, you have been improving. You’ve even been allowed out of the hospital. Do you remember?”
“My parents took me to the park,” she murmured, a small smile pulling at her lips. “It was sunny.”
Dean didn’t allow himself to think about that night often. It was the turning point in his life at the tender age of sixteen and a terrifying experience for both of them. The events of that night and in the days and weeks that followed convinced him to go into psychiatric medicine in the first place. It’s also what lead him back to her and to Harmony Manor.  
His guilt is what lead him on his path and back to her after so many years. His logical brain knows that he did not cause her psychosis, but it didn’t lessen the weight he still carries because of his insistence on going to the haunted house that night. He promised to keep her safe and he failed.
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nochu-libre · 5 years ago
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please don’t reblog
ok like I really didn’t want to write this essay but I’m just itching to say this and have been holding it in for a very long time haha. BIG DISCLAIMER is that im not defending them but i want people to understand why exactly they watch their idols commit these acts time and time again. please understand i am not defending but merely helping you guys see it from a different point of view. again not excusing their behaviour. understand??? ok.
okay so people from the west are always like but you should know by now!!! doing a is racist or doing b is racist. it’s 2019!!!
but the question is why? if I am a person from Korea, a monoethnic, racially homogeneous country (less than 5% are non-korean and top two nationalities are chinese and vietnamese which are u kno same skin colour basically), why would I personally take the time to know that or more importantly, how? I do not see people who are different from me (skin colour wise and also general culture) on a daily basis, I do not see their struggles on the news. I do not know these struggles exist at all. woke tweets/twitter threads/discourse on Twitter don’t reach me because 1 I most probably do not know English remotely well enough to understand it and 2 who is gonna retweet English stuff on my tl anyway. moreover, their news source is like naver articles and im v sure naver aren’t talking about this stuff. also big news outlets like vox or vice that typically talk about things like this certainly don’t have their articles translated in korean so I ask again, how?
now I won’t speak for people who have been called out on doing blackface and then apologizing and saying they understand only for them to turn around and do something racist again but for the general population I can promise you that they watched the news of trudeau getting called out for his blackface pics a while back and a lot of people in Asia went … that’s racist? yeah, most people didn’t know it was. and here’s where I want to say that it comes down to ignorance.
I’ll be very honest and say that I didn’t know blackface was a problem until I came to America to study. I didn’t know that the n word was derogatory until I was maybe 16. my country didn’t even censor the word when it was on radio until around 2013. Africans are few and far between in east Asian countries therefore there aren’t any people in our local population to tell us like hey that’s wrong. we learn what we learn about these things through tv & movies (which tbh doesn’t do a great job anyway and i’m sure you’d agree) and honestly you will be shocked to know how many people living in Asia still do not know that the n word is a derogatory term. I promise you that if you ask them they’ll tell you they think the word means bro/dude/homie and nothing else. i learned what i learned about the n word through movies and i know y’all are gonna laugh but i learned from things like django unchained, the help and etc. maybe learnt it from when a celebrity who got called out for using it. so i think you’ll understand now. if anything i blame their PR person for not educating them because surely they see the comments whenever they get into one of these situations.
but regarding the general population, they say we should know about slavery and thus how the n word came about because white Americans used it as a slur in that time and it still continues to this day. but to them I want to say how many of you listen to kpop and know even a sliver of korean history? how about the big one, the history between Korea and Japan? yeah I don’t think many do know or even if you do it’s barely surface level. (i’m talking in general, i know one or two of you are probs v smart and know all of this) maybe they’ll argue we should know about america and their struggles because they’re a powerful country, an economic powerhouse and to that I say what about China which is obviously an economic powerhouse of their own. do you know anything about China;s history or the country in general other than a lot of things are made there??? ye I’m pretty sure the answer is going to be no. sometimes i understand people going like wait how can you not know but then again if you put things into perspective, you’ll then understand why they don’t know. when you’re from your country, your news is the biggest news. likewise, in my country my country’s news is the biggest news too. we have our own problems and issues too that seem like the biggest things to us. that’s not to say american racial issues are not important but it’s just in the scale of things, maybe not as important as the immediate issues someone is facing. it’s like if i were asking an american to care about the korea vs japan thing. you wont because you’re not there, you know? or palestine vs israel, the racial or rather religion issue, war, killing, land issue (im oversimplifying the issue but i’m sure you get my point). again, NOT DEFENDING but put yourself in our shoes and you’ll see why some people don’t know it’s an issue even if it’s 2019.
so then comes the issue of cultural appropriation. i would like to say that it is a western concept or rather moral belief and teaching. I don’t think it exists in the east asian part of the world because they are again largely monoethnic/racially homogenous countries. see when you go to Korea and Japan they don’t mind if you wear the hanbok or kimono. in fact they encourage it lol like in korea you get free entrance to gyeongbukgong palace if you’re in traditional wear. thus it’s always odd to them when Asian Americans get upset over things like a white person wearing their traditional wear. (again not dismissing or dictating how Asian Americans should feel but merely trying to explain the difference in mindset.) take the white girl who wore a cheong sam/qi pao aka Chinese traditional wear to prom in America… Asian Americans got really upset meanwhile people in China were like yeah that’s cool that she chose to wear it!!! and that’s because we didn’t grow up in America and we didn’t get made fun of when we wore our traditional costume or when we brought our food to school. Thus, the concept of cultural appropriation is hard to grasp in that part of the world. So when we see other people wearing our stuff we’re like huh that’s nice/cute.
Even multicultural and multiracial countries like Malaysia and Singapore, we often wear each other’s traditional costume for celebrations and weddings and sometimes just for no reason. It’s normal to us so to this day cultural appropriation remains a very foreign concept. Mostly because we don’t know what it’s like to be made fun of for simply being us. So for us it’s like we see something we like, we wear it. it’s never been a problem so we never think to ask the question: should I not be wearing this? they say we should know that cornrows, gel twists and etc. belong to the black community and they are discriminated against when they have it but when white people have it, it’s okay but again… i’m not in your country, i don’t see your struggles, so therefore, i don’t know. i think the problem is people say like hey it’s racist, it’s cultural appropriation and that’s usually the final message that reaches them and never really the explanation. so they’re like hmm they say it’s racist but i don’t really understand why so i don’t see why it’s wrong and i’m going to keep doing it. AGAIN, not defending, just explaining. (also, for some reason cornrows are a thing to get on beaches in thailand. don’t know why… it’s just a thing and that’s honestly where i’ve always seen cornrows so for a very long time i didn’t know it was wrong to do it? still struggle with it too because my experience with cornrows has nothing to do with african americans, you know?) and this could be the same for many people. again, just explaining, not trying to say it isn’t wrong.
lastly, conservatism. yes namjoon speaks of things like gender identities and feminism and yoongi wanted the bt21 characters to be gender neutral and he hinted at how he doesn’t care about gender. ok but that’s two out of 7 of them. and then take the whole population. is lgbt frequently represented in their media? no. is marriage between lgbt partners legally recognized? no. does the average korean know what pansexual, asexual, gender fluid and so on means? probably not. they’re also still fighting feminism in Korea. ask an average guy what they think about feminism and you’ll get disgruntled moans. they don’t even see why there should be a female only carriage on their subway system. they think it’s a waste. even after the whole stabbing case in gangnam. and the prevalent problem korea has with hidden cameras and girls getting recorded unknowingly when they’re having sex. e.g: the burning sun scandal which of course had to do with WAY MORE than just that. then again korea has some sort of law where they can put a man in jail if they look at them in a way (probably like sexually e.g: ogling) or so my friends tell me. my korean guy friends were complaining about it, and i think it’s in a larger context of workplace harassment but yes that’s what they took away from it, which is telling of what they think about the feminism issue. also just ask the females in korean society how sometimes their brother is preferred over them. East asian cultures typically prefer males over females because the son will pass on the family name. the son will be the breadwinner etc etc etc. korea struggles with workplace equality too.
hierarchy is a big thing in Korea. age matters. just one year older and you have to use honorifics. don’t use them and they might actually physically fight you. if the older person serves you a drink, you must turn to your side before you drink from the glass. especially in workplaces if the older person says you’re wrong, then you’re wrong. arguing is discouraged. and it’s a very famous case but Korea airlines used to be one of the worst performing airlines (meaning there were a lot of crashes) and it was for this very reason. because of the cockpit gradient, meaning co-pilots felt they couldn’t tell their pilots something was wrong because the pilots are more senior thus they couldn’t argue. Google it.
in Korea filial piety is very strong. what your parents say is very important. disobeying them is almost like asking to be disowned. education is big. getting into SKY is the dream. largely unattainable if you are not the cream of the crop but there’s a loophole. if your kid studies overseas for 12 years, when they come back, it’s easier to get into SKY or uni in general. so for 12 years usually the mother and the children go to countries like Malaysia and send their kids to school there just so they can get into a university more easily. imagine that. parents willing to spend 12 years of their lives outside of their home country just so their kid can get into a good uni. and they want to go to SKY to end up in big firms like Samsung and the like. it’s why people do literally anything to get into SKY. and yes that includes going for extra classes until like 12 am. doesn’t matter if you don’t wanna study. you just gotta do it. a lot of pressure in korean society.
Koreans as a society are very herd-like. they all mostly think and dress and wear makeup the same. I know it sounds like I’m generalizing but if you were in Korea 2 winters ago literally almost everyone was wearing a long black puffer winter jacket. the kind that went to your ankles. and when I say almost everyone, I really mean it. there are pictures of it and even videos. and with a lot of trends it’s the same. the straight eyebrow trend. the pink eyeshadow trend. the permed hair trend for guys. Asian societies are taught to blend in rather than stand out. Americans for example reward individualism. that’s not really the case in Asia. in school a good student is a quiet student. not the outspoken student. again herd mentality isn’t exactly exclusive to korea and i dont know how to explain it but it’s quite next level in korea haha. if you’ve lived there or you know korean people, you know what i’m talking about.
then there’s the sogaeting trend… aka the blind date thing… anyway you gotta be a part of it when you’re in college. when in college it’s expected of you to find someone to date. everyone wants to be cc aka campus couple which is actual korean slang. feelsbad if you’re single. on the topic of dating, a lot of people especially older gen don’t like it when you date someone who isn’t korean. even those in our gen also. i’ve also heard it’s hard to make true friends in korea like they’ll always be surface friends but nothing more. i’ve heard this from friends who are fluent in korean too so it’s not really the language barrier. maybe cultural? sometimes they’re ignorant towards other cultures like if you’re from SEA and they haven’t been there before they’ll ask if they live on trees in the country you're from. this is a true story, happened many times.
also most college dorms have curfews and men and women live in separate buildings. and have you ever watched korean dramas and stopped to wonder why hugging is always such an omg moment? can you ever imagine a western rom com series and the cliffhanger of the episode is that they hugged? y'all would laugh. but that’s just what it’s like in Korea. girls and guys dont typically hug unless they’re dating. will never forget my korean friend bringing her other korean friends to their first ‘American’ party (meaning all the past parties they were at, there were only koreans in attendance) and they saw us hugging our guy friends and they’re like wait you guys aren’t dating and y'all hug??? and then they said 와 외국인 스타일… aka wow foreigner style. yes this isn’t everyone but it’s mostly everyone. that’s why celebs don’t hug each other because it’s not normal for them and ya their fan base would literally have an aneurysm. but u kno guys and guys are ok and girls and girls are ok. typically very touchy towards same gender. not sure why lol. also one night stands are also 외국인 스타일. and tattoos are sort of illegal. don’t get me started on drugs. you saw what happened with TOP. to them WEED = BAD. they’re like not weed NOOOO. it took them so long to allow it for medical use. yeah and abortion is a no. lots of christians in korea. also tons of very cult-like christian type of things. you’ve probably seen them shouting at myeong-dong if you’ve been.
that’s not to say korea is superbly conservative overall. i’m just saying it’s not a liberal happyland either. there are lgbt people, there are people who go for one night stands (apparently that’s what clubs are for lol they go there to pick the prey of the night) etc. etc. etc. i know this comes off kind of harsh but i like korea and a lot of my friends are korean and there are many wonderful things about the place and the people. but this is just the topic of discussion for the day thus it came out that way. disclaimer again that my intention is not to excuse their behaviour. just giving a different viewpoint. you may understand and still not agree. that’s cool. i’m always down to learn so if you intend to educate i’m always down to listen. no name-calling and stuff pls. doesn’t get anyone anywhere.
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