safer waters

Warsan Shire, “Home”

no one leaves home unless
home is the mouth of a shark
you only run for the border
when you see the whole city running as well

your neighbors running faster than you
breath bloody in their throats
the boy you went to school with
who kissed you dizzy behind the old tin factory
is holding a gun bigger than his body
you only leave home
when home won’t let you stay.

no one leaves home unless home chases you
fire under feet
hot blood in your belly
it’s not something you ever thought of doing
until the blade burnt threats into
your neck
and even then you carried the anthem under
your breath
only tearing up your passport in an airport toilets
sobbing as each mouthful of paper
made it clear that you wouldn’t be going back.

you have to understand,
that no one puts their children in a boat
unless the water is safer than the land
no one burns their palms
under trains
beneath carriages
no one spends days and nights in the stomach of a truck
feeding on newspaper unless the miles travelled
means something more than journey.
no one crawls under fences
no one wants to be beaten
pitied

no one chooses refugee camps
or strip searches where your
body is left aching
or prison,
because prison is safer
than a city of fire
and one prison guard
in the night
is better than a truckload
of men who look like your father
no one could take it
no one could stomach it
no one skin would be tough enough

the
go home blacks
refugees
dirty immigrants
asylum seekers
sucking our country dry
niggers with their hands out
they smell strange
savage
messed up their country and now they want
to mess ours up
how do the words
the dirty looks
roll off your backs
maybe because the blow is softer
than a limb torn off

or the words are more tender
than fourteen men between
your legs
or the insults are easier
to swallow
than rubble
than bone
than your child body
in pieces.
i want to go home,
but home is the mouth of a shark
home is the barrel of the gun
and no one would leave home
unless home chased you to the shore
unless home told you
to quicken your legs
leave your clothes behind
crawl through the desert
wade through the oceans
drown
save
be hunger
beg
forget pride
your survival is more important

no one leaves home until home is a sweaty voice in your ear
saying-
leave,
run away from me now
i dont know what i’ve become
but i know that anywhere
is safer than here

anonymous asked:

What if a Hale-wolf lives after the fire on the street, perhaps with a human who is homeless. And because of these circumstances he looks more like a sick thin dog than a wolf.


On, anon, why would you do this to either of us? 

The wolf is too thin, his belly shrunken and concave, no fat between his thin skin and his brittle bones. He has forgotten how to hunt. He is hunted instead, by the spectre of death. He knows. He doesn’t care. Instead of sticking to the woods where instinct tells the wolf he would be safer—shelter, water, prey—the wolf winds closer and closer into the streets of the human town, and picks through dumpsters and gutters for food.

Here tires screech on asphalt. Cars backfire. The street is hard underneath the pads of the wolf’s paws. Everything is loud and harsh and too, too bright.

The wolf limps down the alleyways, death silently following.

Winter is here. The wolf knows he will not see another one.

The wolf follows his nose. He picks up heady scents above the stink of exhaust fumes and oil and rancid things. The wolf rattles around the trashcans at the back of a cheap diner, and fills his belly with the sick-slickness of greasy burgers. Warmth fills the wolf, and his old friend death steps back for just a moment.

Nose in the air, the wolf continues to explore the alleyway. His claws dig into a pile of damp cardboard as he sidesteps the icy-cold puddle of rain, oil-slicked, in the gutter.

“Hey!” someone says, and the cardboard shifts.

The wolf skitters back, and then remembers that he is a predator. He stops, and turns, and growls.

A boy’s face appears from underneath a layer of the cardboard. It is pale. His eyes are bloodshot and his lips are blue. He has a spray of moles across his face like an unfamiliar constellation. The boy freezes when he sees the wolf. “Holy shit.”

The wolf and death stare back at the boy.

The wolf has forgotten how to mark time.

He has no idea how long it is he stands there.

***

The boy’s bones are as brittle as the wolf’s, his skin as thin. When he curls his fingers through the wolf’s ruff, they are like icicles. His breath though, is hot. It tickles the wolf’s fur when he buries his face against it. His tears taste like salt.

Death circles them, in the little den the boy has made behind the cardboard in an alleyway in the cold, cold town.

The wolf tugs himself from the boy’s grip, and slinks back down the alley to the trashcans. His boy is too cold, too weak to crawl this far, so the wolf picks up a discarded burger in his jaws and carries it back to him.

The boy eats it, crying.

The wolf curls around him when they sleep.

Death steps closer, its black mouth open in hunger.

The wolf growls at it, the sound rumbling through his thin ribcage.

Not tonight.

Not tomorrow.

Maybe not this winter at all.

The wolf has a den now, and a heartbeat to share it with.

When the boy is strong again they will go into the woods and build a shelter there, and the wolf will remember his instincts, and the boy will learn his, and they will be packmates there, where the ground is soft underneath their feet and the stars are visible at night.  

Vows [Part 5] (Jaime Lannister x Stark!Reader)

a/n: aaahhh! hi! im back! im sosososo sorry that i was gone for so long oh my gosh! school hit me like a ton of bricks and i needed some time to get in the swing of things! take this and enjoy and guess what? i’ll have part 6 up tomorrow along with a filled request! enjoy, loves, and thank you for being so patient and understanding! 

PART 1 PART 2 PART 3 PART 4

TAG LIST: @queen-of-the-north-amina@avistella @chippychipmunks @buckybarnesisalittleshit @chloehamiltonn @millie67 @doctorwhoandrory

WORD COUNT: 2,093

************************************* 

“Choices, choices. Take the bridge and risk being seen by anyone or cross the water and," 

Brienne tugged on Jaime’s chain, the not-so-golden-anymore Lion stumbling. Although he had almost fallen flat on his front, Jaime’s smirk held strong.

"Silence, Kingslayer." 

His smirk fell. 

Out of habit, Y/N corrected her. Y/N corrected anyone who called Jaime by that title, no matter who they were. After Jaime had confessed to her that he hated it, she began hating it too. 

"His name is Jaime." 

Both knights looked at Y/N curiously, but she paid no mind. Jaime’s eyes lingered but Y/N was determined not to look his way. 

After discovering that she was with child, Y/N had taken to avoiding her husband. Her time in her brother’s camp, two months to be exact, was filled with sneers and taunts thrown her way each time she ventured from her tent. ‘The Lannister Bitch’ they called her. These men, pledged to her house and sworn to be loyal. Calling her child a bastard because of her marriage to the enemy. A marriage she had no say in. To a man she had grown to care about despite the devastating heartbreak he had put her through. 

Y/N felt that she deserved every taunt thrown her way. 

 Y/N felt like a coil, wound so tight that she may never straighten again. She had been forbidden to relieve her stress in the tilt-yard as she had throughout her childhood. The second that she had picked up her sword, Catelyn was there to scold her for endangering her heir. Her sword was confiscated and Y/N felt defenseless. Left to sit and watch her twin plan and do the fighting, Y/N was constantly on edge and ready to argue. Hormone imbalances due to pregnancy didn’t do her any favors, either. 

Robb had finally snapped and confined her to her tent when she questioned his betrayal of the Frey’s in front of his counsel. Her twin had accused her of siding with the Lannisters, all but calling her a common whore, before banishing her from the tent. Y/N felt like a prisoner among her own family. 

When Catelyn approached her that night, telling her that she needed to get Sansa and Arya back, Y/N had been immediately on board. Anything to feel free again, even if only for a short time. 

Catelyn knew that traveling while with child was especially treacherous, but she also knew that where Jaime went, Y/N would have to follow. She was a Lannister now, pregnant with a Lannister cub. It broke Lady Stark’s heart to send her daughter back into the lion’s den, but Y/N knew she had no choice. It was expected, and would lead to less conflict. 'From this day until my last day’ they had said. 

So, in the dead of night as Robb and the camp slept, Catelyn watched as Brienne’s horse led Jaime’s out of the camp by a chain, Y/N following on her own. In the pit of her stomach, Catelyn knew that she would never see her eldest daughter again. It was a mother’s intuition, and it was painful. Her family was being torn apart before her very eyes, and she was all but feeding Y/N to lions. 

A week into their journey, Y/N knew that Jaime was purposefully being a pain in the arse to inconvenience Brienne. This irritated Y/N to no end. 

Constantly plagued by nausea and forced to sleep on the forest floor, only three dresses in her pack and hardly any chances to bathe, Y/N absolutely loathed Jaime’s attitude. She wanted her husband’s support and maybe some gratitude for helping him escape. Instead, Y/N got snark and constant sarcasm. Putting Jaime in his place became a common pastime for Y/N. Jaime would never say it aloud, but he absolutely loved it when Y/N would bite back at him. 

Currently, Y/N stared at the rushing river in front of them with hungry eyes, feeling the weeks worth of grime on her skin all the more now that the prospect of a bath dangled in front of her. She knew there was no time, and it took physical restraint not to rush into the cool water. 

Jaime continued to talk, his usual condescending tone light on his words. The tone brought Y/N back to the situation at hand, causing her heart to ache as she thought back to the early days of their marriage, before their world went to shit.

"Cross the bridge and risk being seen by anyone passing by, but cross by water and risk being taken by the current or my escaping down stream." 

Y/N scoffed, "Good luck with that, dear husband. You’d drown and I’m not jumping in to save you. Neither is Brienne." 

Jaime shrugged, smirking. "It’s wonderful to watch you struggle with these dilemmas, darling. You’re jaw clenches and it’s really very endearing." 

Y/N didn’t acknowledge Jaime’s term of endearment. "The bridge is safer. In the water we risk being overturned with a boat of that size and three people. Again. The water is cold and the current is too strong. It’s too dangerous. We’ll cross casually and hopefully raise no suspicions." 

Jaime rose an eyebrow, still smirking. "Well, well. The new Lady Lannister, a gambler. The country will have an absolute fit." 

========================= 

Stepping onto the bridge, Brienne took the rear with Y/N at the head. 

The threesome walked briskly before Jaime decided to sit, complaining that he needed to rest. 

Y/N knew exactly what he was playing at and she hoped she could keep him moving. "Jaime, sweet, please. Now is not the time for thi-" 

"I’ve been on my feet far too long, darling. Corns. I never used to get corns. Of course, I used to ride everywhere." 

Brienne pulled on Jaime’s chain, looking around in paranoia. "Get up, now!" 

Y/N was about to speak when Jaime reached and stole Brienne’s sword from it’s sheath, cutting his weak chain and standing at the defense. 

Brienne was down a sword, but still prepared to fight. She was completely prepared to defeat the Lion of Lannister, but Y/N held a hand up, stopping her.

Brienne paused, hoping that Y/N had not hoped to side with her husband. She wouldn’t be able to hold them both off, unwilling to harm Y/N. Brienne’s  eyes widened in shock as she was proven wrong. 

"Brienne, your sword if you would?" 

Brienne hesitated, as did Jaime. But the knight conceded nervously and Jaime stood his ground. 

Y/N tested the sword in her hands, the hilt feeling at home as it pressed into her palm. Y/N had missed swordplay. Desperately. 

"Stand down, Jaime." 

Y/N’s voice was steel, cold and hard. Jaime had never heard her speak that way. Upset? Yes. Broken? More times than he’d like to think about. But the steeled and passive way she spoke now was something Jaime had never heard. 

"Now, now, Y/N. Gambling and threatening your Lord Husband? I thought Starks were honorable?" 

Brienne went to step forward, but Y/N again stopped her. 

"Let me handle this, Brienne. You swore a vow to my mother not to harm him. I swore nothing. Keep watch." 

Y/N could see that Jaime faltered slightly, fighting to keep his cocky facade. 

"You wouldn’t kill me. Our wedding was nothing but vows. You did swear.”

Husband and wife danced circles around each other, both staying on the defense but neither quite willing to make the first lunge. 

Y/N smirked, Jaime noting just how intimidating the facial expression made her appear. 

“I swore to be yours. I don’t remember anything about me swearing to protect you. However, you swore to protect me, did you not? The only one breaking vows here is you, darling." 

Using Jaime’s slight hesitation at the mention of their vows, Y/N lunged and attempted to disarm him. Jaime blocked her quickly, eyes hard as he began lunging. 

Now on the defense, Y/N blocked three blows before yet again moving to disarm Jaime. 

Still finding ways to shock her husband, Y/N’s expression gave nothing away as they fought. Jaime was pushing his sword down hard onto Y/N’s, the steel clashing right in front of her face. 

"Jaime, enough! This is ridiculous!" 

Y/N pushed up with surprising strength and Jaime staggered back. 

Jaime stabbed at Y/N again, his wife stepping back and blocking. "You’re right, my love. It’s ridiculous that I never knew my wife could fight this well." 

As the pair fought, Brienne stood back, worried about the attention that the fight would draw to them and terrified that the pair would hurt each other. As the fight progressed, the couple grew more and more intense, swinging harder and aiming to injure. 

Stepping back to breathe, Jaime and Y/N stood poised in defence should the other one attack. 

"You’re graceful, Y/N. I’ll give you that.”

Y/N’s eyes narrowed. 

“You’ll give your life soon if you don’t stop acting like a fool, father of my child or not." 

Jaime lunged at her, angry that she would threaten him with their babe, hearing a hiss of pain before he was forced back with a kick to the stomach. 

Y/N was breathing heavily and Jaime’s heart dropped painfully when he noticed a shallow cut on her collar bone. He had hurt her. Another vow broken because of his pride. 

You’re a fool.“ 

Before Jaime could respond to his wife’s harsh whisper or even think, Y/N had stepped forward and kicked his legs out from under him, using his distraction to her advantage. 

Jaime landed on his back, the breath stolen from his lungs as he made impact with the ground. Y/N caught his sword before it fell and tossed it over the bridge, her other hand holding the tip of her blade to Jaime’s throat. Her grey eyes were ablaze and Jaime knew that he had only experienced true, unadulterated fear of this nature one other time, ten-and-seven years ago when he murdered the Mad King. 

"Do you concede?" 

Before Jaime could even attempt to force words out of his throat, slow clapping came from behind Brienne, and the two women turned quickly. Jaime’s eyes remained on his wife. Sword in hand, hair mussed, the sun casting a glow over her lithe form. Had she always looked like such a goddess? Jaime was so enthralled with Y/N that he didn’t hear the man address him. 

"Well, looks like your woman has gotten the best of ya." 

Y/N looked to the flayed man of House Bolton flying on their banners and tensed. She remained composed, years of lessons coming back to her as she held herself as a lady should. At least, as regal as one could look while holding a sword to their husband’s throat. 

"Yes, well, passion and anger make for weak swordplay.” She didn’t lower her sword and Brienne felt defenseless without her own weapon. 

The man at the head smirked, appraising Y/N, eyes raking over her body. Jaime’s jaw ticked angrily. 

“What’s your name, love?" 

Y/N, quick and calm as a Stark should always be, responded smoothly.

"Alessandra Snow. I was a handmaiden at the Stark camp." 

The man laughed heartily, his men laughing with him. "Don’t take me for a fool, Lady Y/N. I’d recognize The Flower of House Stark anywhere. Little Lyanna. Your brother’s been lookin’ for ya." 

Y/N ground her teeth at the nickname, not bothering to cover for her lie or even apologize. Her gaze remained level with his until his eyes shifted. 

Tilting his head to look at the man behind her, the man’s smirk grew. "And that makes you Jaime Lannister. Just the man we need." 

Jaime stood, stepping in front of Y/N. She didn’t continue to point her sword at him. 

"Let us be. My father will give you whatever you want." 

Y/N rolled her eyes, looking to Brienne to find a similar, painfully annoyed expression on the knight’s face. Her jaw clenched as she looked to Jaime, knowing that he was completely serious. Almost four-and-ten and still calling on his father’s money to get him out of tight situations. 

The Bolton man scoffed, "Enough for a new head? If the King in the North hears that I had the Kingslayer and his sister and then let them go, he’d cut it right off." 

Y/N’s eyes hardened and she raised her sword, but she didn’t remain on the defensive for long as they were all seized. Jaime had grabbed her wrist, stopping her from fighting, his eyes focused on her stomach. Y/N’s eyes were still ablaze with fury when she looked at her husband, on her knees in front of the Bolton bannermen. 

 "I’d rather he takes yours.”

tl;dr: I love every ‘humans are weird’ and ‘death world earth’ post, if you could tag me I’ll love you forever

Seriously though, I fucking love all of these posts about how wild earth and humans are. We literally seek things out that can kill us and build cities there. If it gets destroyed, oh well, we’ll just rebuild it. We allowed dangerous predators to come near us just because we wanted to pet them. We domesticated animals that were predator species and made them work for us. We can survive absolutely wild temperature ranges and have figured out hacks to survive in all types of climates. We sweat profusely when exposed to high heat and/or high humidity to regulate our internal temperature, we shiver when we’re cold, we have a literal drug built into our bodies that will give us bursts of energy and strength when in danger, we can survive a lot of things that aren’t immediately fatal to us, humans developed a better liver just so we could keep imbibing alcohol (no seriously we did, the fermentation of booze killed a lot of bacteria in water & at points was safer to drink than water and for reals I want to know what idiot stuck their hand in this fermented stuff AND DRANK IT THEN WENT OH THIS IS GOOD HERE TRY THIS), just like… w h a t.

Our planet is wild too - we live next to active volcanoes for the better farmland, we figured out how to use the massive heat to produce energy, we have a lot of major cities on major fault lines - and speaking of that has anyone considered how fucking weird it is that the ground is constantly moving around the globe?!?! - we kinda shrug and board up our dwellings when a hurricane is coming, we rebuild after a tornado flattens everything and we basically just go oh well time to clean up when we crawl out from safe places, there are people who live in extreme climates and have adapted to it, we went from swinging in trees to one of the apex predators, our axis tilts and fucking WOBBLES, we’re exposed to so many different types of cosmic radiation on a daily basis, and we actually use that to see, our local star likes to throw hissy fits once in a while AND WE THINK THE MASSIVELY CHARGED SOLAR SHIT IS FUCKING PRETTY. 

Humans, man. We’re so weird. I love it.

Axolotl Care Sheet

Keeping Other Animals with Axolotls:

Just say no. Fish will bite the worm-like gills of axolotls. Even bottom feeder fish like Plecos will try to feed on the axolotls. Large snails might attach themselves to the axolotls, or might get eaten by the axolotl and impact its digestion. For the sake of your axolotl, please don’t keep anything else in the tank with it.

Keeping Axolotls Together:

Male and female axolotls will mate throughout the year, and the female can lay several hundred eggs at a time. Same-sex pairs of similar sized adult axolotls are okay to keep together as long as they each have their own places to hide by themselves. Larger axolotls may bully, or even try to eat, smaller axolotls, so only keep adults together if they are within about 1” of each other’s size.

Temperature:

The yearly average water temperature where the axolotls are native is about 70° F, and this is a fine temperature to keep axolotls at all year long. Water temperatures over 75° F are stressful for the axolotl. To aid in cooling your tank, leave the lid part-way open to allow some water to evaporate, and keep the tank out of direct sunlight.

Lighting:

Axolotls prefer low light levels, and benefit from having a steady day/night cycle. To help yourself out with this, place a timer on the light’s outlet, and set it for 12 hours light and 12 hours dark. Give the axolotl plenty of dark hiding spaces, and add plants (preferably live plants) to help diffuse the light.

Water Flow:

Axolotls prefer still or slow-moving water, so if you choose to run a filter in your tank, try to diffuse the water flow with decorations or plants. Axolotls are more active in calm water.

Water Parameters:

Axolotls benefit from water with a pH between 6.8 and 7.4, and need some mineral content in their water or else they will become anemic. To balance your water’s pH and to keep mineral content high, filter your water before adding it to your tank (this can be done with a filtered refrigerator tap or a Brita-style water filter on your sink tap), and to this water add:

2 tsp aquarium salt

2 tsp Epsom salt

1 level tsp baking soda

per 5 gallons of water.

To aid in water filtration, consider adding live plants, which absorb some of the waste produced by the axolotl.

As with any aquarium, make sure to add beneficial bacteria, which can be purchased at any fish shop, and cycle the tank BEFORE adding the axolotl. If unsure about how to cycle a tank, speak with a professional at your local fish shop.

Filtering your water before adding it to your aquarium will remove any chlorine, which can kill an axolotl. Bottles of chlorine-remover can be purchased, but these only cause chemical reactions to produce chlorinated plastics or metals, and do not actually remove the chlorine from the water. A safer way to remove chlorine is to either filter the water ahead of time, as mentioned above, or let the water sit in an open bucket for 24 hours and let the chlorine evaporate.

Substrate:

NEVER use gravel in an axolotl tank. Axolotls eat by sucking in large amounts of water, and in doing so, can accidentally ingest anything near the food. The gravel will impact the axolotl’s digestion and may even kill it. As a good rule of thumb, NEVER put anything smaller than your axolotl’s head in its tank. This includes gravel, stones, snails, decorations, and so on. Aquarium sand (not playground sand) is great for axolotls, or a bare tank bottom will suffice too. The only problem with a bare tank bottom is that the axolotls have trouble gripping it, and moving might become stressful to them.

Decorations:

Axolotls can swim pretty vigorously, and are known to thrash when they eat, so don’t put anything in their tank with sharp edges or rough surfaces. This includes the edges of PVC pipes, splintery driftwood, sharp rocks, and even some fish tank decorations. If you notice a cut on your axolotl, run your finger along everything in their tank and remove any sharp object you find. Even if it’s not sharp in your mind, it may be too sharp for the axolotl’s soft skin.

Feeding:

Some will say that adult axolotls only need to eat every other day or so, but it’s best to feed them smaller portions daily. To get a handle of how much your axolotl needs to eat, keep feeding it until it no longer seems interested in food. Remove any uneaten food within 30 minutes or your water will become contaminated.

A scientific study published by the Journal of Veterinary Behavior proved juvenile axolotls grow fastest on a diet of bloodworms, but this diet is best for juveniles and not so much for adults. Axolotls have little holes in their heads behind their gills to let water flow in and out when they eat, and tiny bloodworms will flow right out through these holes.

The best food for adult axolotls is earthworms. If you choose to find your own worms outside, be sure to avoid taking them from anywhere sprayed with fertilizer, pesticides, or herbicides. While you’re out looking, slugs also make a nice meal for axolotls. To clean off the food you collect, fill a small cup with your tank’s water and let the worms and slugs sit in it for a few minutes, but be sure to cover the cup! This will remove any excess dirt from the food. Store-bought worms are great too, but axolotls can be picky and might not like the kind you buy. Some don’t like Canadian Nightcrawlers, some don’t like Red Wigglers. I’ve had the best luck with “Dillies,” sold as fishing bait at most tackle shops. Some people have had luck feeding axolotls sinking trout pellets, but I have never tried this.

DO NOT feed your axolotl the following: fish, other amphibians, mealworms, snails you catch yourself, any bug with more than 6 legs, spiders, anything that may be venomous, beef heart or any mammalian protein. This list is not exhaustive. Use common sense when feeding your axolotl. Avoid purchasing live aquatic worms from pet stores, as they may be contaminated with parasites.

Further Information:

The internet is a valuable tool for researching animal care, but remember that there is a lot of misinformation out there. Axolotl.org is a great resource for specific information about axolotls. Caudata.org is a good message-board about amphibian care, but not everyone there knows what they’re talking about. The same goes for any amphibian-related groups on social media: it’s hit or miss trying to find someone with good information.

There are a few good books about axolotl care, but most are outdated. These include Developmental Biology of the Axolotl (scholarly article compilation from 1989), Axolotls: Care and Breeding in Captivity (Peter Scott 1995), and any of several books about general amphibian keeping.

no one leaves home unless
home is the mouth of a shark
you only run for the border
when you see the whole city running as well

your neighbors running faster than you
breath bloody in their throats
the boy you went to school with
who kissed you dizzy behind the old tin factory
is holding a gun bigger than his body
you only leave home
when home won’t let you stay.

no one leaves home unless home chases you
fire under feet
hot blood in your belly
it’s not something you ever thought of doing
until the blade burnt threats into
your neck
and even then you carried the anthem under
your breath
only tearing up your passport in an airport toilets
sobbing as each mouthful of paper
made it clear that you wouldn’t be going back.

you have to understand,
that no one puts their children in a boat
unless the water is safer than the land
no one burns their palms
under trains
beneath carriages
no one spends days and nights in the stomach of a truck
feeding on newspaper unless the miles travelled
means something more than journey.
no one crawls under fences
no one wants to be beaten
pitied

no one chooses refugee camps
or strip searches where your
body is left aching
or prison,
because prison is safer
than a city of fire
and one prison guard
in the night
is better than a truckload
of men who look like your father
no one could take it
no one could stomach it
no one skin would be tough enough

the
go home blacks
refugees
dirty immigrants
asylum seekers
sucking our country dry
niggers with their hands out
they smell strange
savage
messed up their country and now they want
to mess ours up
how do the words
the dirty looks
roll off your backs
maybe because the blow is softer
than a limb torn off

or the words are more tender
than fourteen men between
your legs
or the insults are easier
to swallow
than rubble
than bone
than your child body
in pieces.
i want to go home,
but home is the mouth of a shark
home is the barrel of the gun
and no one would leave home
unless home chased you to the shore
unless home told you
to quicken your legs
leave your clothes behind
crawl through the desert
wade through the oceans
drown
save
be hunger
beg
forget pride
your survival is more important

no one leaves home until home is a sweaty voice in your ear
saying-
leave,
run away from me now
i dont know what i’ve become
but i know that anywhere
is safer than here

—  “Home” by Warsan Shire

anonymous asked:

who the hell looks at hot dogs, cheapest possible offal+fat+scraps-kind of meat, and decides "ah yes, getting them wet is the problem here. Definitely. Can't let any of that disgusting water touch my Minced Leftover Organs, or they will taint it and steal all its hotdog vitamins and shit. Better use a fucking condom because lube and spermicide getting into the mix are much safer than this horrible Water."

That’s the definition of a soulmate, isn’t it? One soul, two halves, split between two separate forms. Alike in every respect.

In a world where people are born with a coloured marking somewhere on their body, your soulmate is supposed to be the one who carries the exact same mark. Kurosaki Ichigo has never put much stock in these things — and the fact that his black sun mark and Rukia’s white crescent moon is as different as night and day has nothing to do with it. Ichiruki soulmates AU- maybe. 

(Hey guys! This was my entry for IRBB! I have two chapters written - the next chapter will go up next week - and then the rest of the fic will join my roster of wip fics to be updated… when I have time…. hahahaha //cries// 

My partner @jellyribbons did the CUTEST art for my fic, which YOU CAN FIND HERE. Thank you for being such a gem, juliet, even when I didn’t give you much to work with 8ㅁ8

And now, without further ado, please enjoy my irbb fic–

Collision Course

by hashtagartistlife


 

One

Gravitational Collapse

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There’s a black mark on Ichigo’s palm.

He’s never spent too much time contemplating it. People attribute so many things to these tiny coloured markings that appear on their skin. They say it tells you the kind of person you are, the kind of person you’re going to be. They say the person you’re destined to be with — your soulmate — has the exact same mark somewhere on their body. Because that’s what the definition of a soulmate is, isn’t it— one soul, two halves, split between two separate forms.  Alike in every respects. There are entire religions based around this concept, dating sites that cater exclusively to making sure you meet up with your other half. Psychics that claim they can read your entire future from that one mark alone.

Ichigo thinks, it’s just a goddamn birthmark.

He hates all this destiny crap surrounding these marks. When Tatsuki had asked him at the age of thirteen what his mark looked like, he’d scowled and told her to shove off. His hand had clenched, reflexive, around the shape getting ever-clearer against his tanned skin. She’d harrumphed, unperturbed, and informed him hers was the shape of a crimson eagle and that it clearly meant she was destined for greater things than him, if his mark was still the misshapen blob she remembers it being when he was nine. He’d responded that her mark looks more like a puddle of spew than the eagle she claimed it to be, and she’d thrown a well-aimed kick at his shoulder and the conversation had been dropped.

By the time he’s fifteen, the mark is well and truly etched onto his skin, no longer misshapen by any stretch of the imagination. Still, he refuses to pay too much attention to it, refuses to try to analyse the shape it’s settled into. It’s all bullshit, anyway. If he squints, he thinks you could almost mistake it for an ink-black sun — see? Bullshit. There was only one sun in his life, and she’d set six years ago and taken all the light in his family with her. His mother was the sun, the one holding them all together with her gravity; not him. And if his soulmate is anything like him, if they, too, are represented by a dark black sun mark somewhere on their body, then he wants nothing to do with them. He wants nothing to do with himself, most days.

So when Keigo asks, exuberant, innocent, what his mark is, Ichigo looks him straight in the eye and tells him he doesn’t believe in destiny.

Keep reading

SHE IS BACK!!!!!!

What an entrance. I got chills. I wonder what will happen next?!

“You…shall…see.”

2

A/N: So this is the Imagine that was requested, I liked the idea so much I decided to make it a little series. Maybe three or four parts, anyway enjoy.

You were bathing in your private pond, enjoying its cooling waters on this hot day.

Sure you could make it a bit more cloudy if you wanted, but then this bath wouldn’t feel so good.

Then you felt it.

One of those infestations rustling through your forest.

You rolled your eyes in annoyance, realizing that it was getting closer to your pond.

It had to happen sooner or later, you were honestly surprised that it had taken this long for one of them to find you.

With a sigh you ducked under the water to rinse the soaps out of your hair.

When you resurfaced there it was.

A boy.

When he heard the water move he quickly raised his wooden club.

‘No need for hostility.’ you said as you swam to the banks.

You looked at the club and smiled as is slowly began to sprout beautiful red roses.

He looked his weapon turned harmless in shock before dropping it, turning back to you in awe.

You reached the bank and emerged from the clear water, a breeze chilling your naked body.

You walked toward the boy, getting a better look at him up close.

His hair was like dirt covered gold, his frame tall and lean, eyes wild and calm like a mermaid filled sea.

For a boy he was very beautiful.

While you studied him you realized he put a lot of effort into not looking at you.

‘Is something wrong?’ you asked.

Still not looking at you the boy bit out his answer.

'You’re naked.’

'I was bathing, does my body disturb you?’

'I didn’t say that, but this conversation would go a lot smoother with clothes on.’ he said.

'If you insist.’ you said as your took hold of a long blade of grass.

You made it grow and wrap around your wrist, up your arm and around your torso. Once it reached your thighs you broke the blade.

You look back to the boy, glad to see he could look at you now.

'Who are you?’ he asked as he looked at you cautiously.

'Who are you?’ you countered.

'My name is Felix, now tell me who you are.’

'What.’

He looked at you in confusion.

'The correct question is what am I.’ you clarified.

'Fine then, what are you?’ he corrected.

'I am Neverland.’ you answered.

'What do you mean, you can’t be Neverland. Neverland is the island, the island we’re on right now.’ he explained.

'I am the island, the heart of it anyway, it does as I ask and I keep it safe.’ you said smiling as you walked over to a tree, gently placing a hand on the trunk.

‘How long have you been here?’ Felix asked.

‘I’ve been here as long as the island has been here, growing the forest from the ground up.’ you said.

‘Why haven’t I seen you before? I’ve been on this island for months and never once have I seen you.’ he asked.

‘It’s my island I know it better than anyone, I know how to keep to myself.’ you answered.

‘I thought this was Pan’s island.’

You rolled your eyes.

‘That child is lucky I told my shadow to let him stay.’ you scoffed.

‘Your shadow? The shadow that allowed Peter to stay…that’s yours?’ he asked in amazement.

‘Where did you think it came form? I don’t want to talk about me anymore, let’s talk about you Felix.’ you said. 

‘There isn’t anything about me worth knowing, you should be talking to Pan.’ Felix replied.

‘I don’t want to talk to him, he’s so arrogant, better to let him think he’s in charge. You seem friendly, and much more modest too.’ you smiled.

You sat down on a log, you pat the spot next to you.

He looked at you with uncertainty, but he sat down next to you.

‘So Felix, what brought you to my island? A lonely dream, or did Pan drag you from your home.’ you asked.

‘I guess both, I used to dream of this place when I was younger, then one night I heard Pan’s flute and he said I could stay here forever.’ Felix answered.

‘I’ll give him this much, he’s taking a lot of boys from bad places.’ you admitted.

‘Horrible places.’ Felix said to himself.

‘Where you?’ you asked softly.

‘Orphanage, on the West side of Oz. Too many boys, not enough rooms or food to feed most of us. Always cold, damp, dirty and hungry, then I’d dream of this place. A place with plenty of water and food, where I’d be safe, sure I had to follow Pan’s rules, but I’m OK with it.’ Felix replied.

‘What if I offered you a place here?’

‘What?’

‘Stay here on this side of the island with me, its got just as much food and water. It’s safer here too, I don’t grow dreamshade here and the mermaids are never on this side.’ you offered.

‘But Pan-’

‘Let me worry about him, you just tell me. Do you want to stay here with me?

‘Home  - by Warsan Shire’

No one leaves home unless home is the mouth of a shark. You only run for the border when you see the whole city running as well your neighbours running faster than you, the boy you went to school with who kissed you dizzy behindthe old tin factory is holding a gun bigger than his body,

You only leave home when home won’t let you stay. No one would leave home unless home chased you, fire under feet, hot blood in your belly. It’s not something you ever thought about doing, and so when you did – you carried the anthem under your breath, waiting until the airport toilet to tear up the passport and swallow, each mouthful of paper making it clear that you would not be going back.

You have to understand, no one puts their children in a boat unless the water is safer than the land. Who would choose to spend days and nights in the stomach of a truck unless the miles travelled meant something more than journey.

No one would choose to crawl under fences, be beaten until your shadow leaves you, raped, then drowned, forced to the bottom of the boat because you are darker, be sold, starved, shot at the border like a sick animal, be pitied, lose your name, lose your family, make a refugee camp a home for a year or two or ten, stripped and searched, find prison everywhere and if you survive and you are greeted on the other side with go home blacks, refugees, dirty immigrants, asylum seekers sucking our country dry of milk, dark, with their hands out smell strange, savage – look what they’ve done to their own countries, what will they do to ours? the dirty looks in the street softer than a limb torn off, the indignity of everyday life more tender than fourteen men who look like your father, between your legs, insults easier to swallow than rubble, than your child’s body in pieces – for now, forget about pride your survival is more important.

 I want to go home, but home is the mouth of a shark, home is the barrel of the gun and no one would leave home unless home chased you to the shore unless home tells you to leave what you could not behind, even if it was human.

No one leaves home until home is a damp voice in your ear saying leave, run now, i don’t know what i’ve become.

Home by Warsan Shire

no one leaves home unless
home is the mouth of a shark
you only run for the border
when you see the whole city running as well

your neighbors running faster than you
breath bloody in their throats
the boy you went to school with
who kissed you dizzy behind the old tin factory
is holding a gun bigger than his body
you only leave home
when home won’t let you stay.

no one leaves home unless home chases you
fire under feet
hot blood in your belly
it’s not something you ever thought of doing
until the blade burnt threats into
your neck
and even then you carried the anthem under
your breath
only tearing up your passport in an airport toilets
sobbing as each mouthful of paper
made it clear that you wouldn’t be going back.

you have to understand,
that no one puts their children in a boat
unless the water is safer than the land
no one burns their palms
under trains
beneath carriages
no one spends days and nights in the stomach of a truck
feeding on newspaper unless the miles travelled
means something more than journey.
no one crawls under fences
no one wants to be beaten
pitied

no one chooses refugee camps
or strip searches where your
body is left aching
or prison,
because prison is safer
than a city of fire
and one prison guard
in the night
is better than a truckload
of men who look like your father
no one could take it
no one could stomach it
no one skin would be tough enough

the
go home blacks
refugees
dirty immigrants
asylum seekers
sucking our country dry
niggers with their hands out
they smell strange
savage
messed up their country and now they want
to mess ours up
how do the words
the dirty looks
roll off your backs
maybe because the blow is softer
than a limb torn off

or the words are more tender
than fourteen men between
your legs
or the insults are easier
to swallow
than rubble
than bone
than your child body
in pieces.
i want to go home,
but home is the mouth of a shark
home is the barrel of the gun
and no one would leave home
unless home chased you to the shore
unless home told you
to quicken your legs
leave your clothes behind
crawl through the desert
wade through the oceans
drown
save
be hunger
beg
forget pride
your survival is more important

no one leaves home until home is a sweaty voice in your ear
saying-
leave,
run away from me now
i dont know what i’ve become
but i know that anywhere
is safer than here

Keep reading

actualpanda  asked:

Even isolated as they were by distance, Pandaren shamans could feel the Cataclysm even in their homeland. Those along the Kun-Lai Coast and the Jade Forest spread the word to the Anglers to take their ships to safer waters. To this day, they remember the day the ocean trembled. No matter where they are, the Anglers raise a glass every anniversary of that day, in memory of those who did not make it in other lands.

Confirmed. The Alliance and Horde alike are humbled by the little gesture of remembrance, and take time themselves to reflect on all that they lost in the Cataclysm. 

hunger - chapter 1

Hunger master post here. 



The wolf is too thin, his belly shrunken and concave, no fat between his thin skin and his brittle bones. He has forgotten how to hunt. He is hunted instead, by the spectre of death. He knows. He doesn’t care. Instead of sticking to the woods where instinct tells the wolf he would be safer—shelter, water, prey—the wolf winds closer and closer into the streets of the human town, and picks through dumpsters and gutters for food.

Here tires screech on asphalt. Cars backfire. The street is hard underneath the pads of the wolf’s paws. Everything is loud and harsh and too, too bright.

The wolf limps down the alleyways, death silently following.

Winter is here. The wolf knows he will not see another one.

The wolf follows his nose. He picks up heady scents above the stink of exhaust fumes and oil and rancid things. The wolf rattles around the trashcans at the back of a cheap diner, and fills his belly with the sick-slickness of greasy burgers. Warmth fills the wolf, and his old friend death steps back for just a moment.

Nose in the air, the wolf continues to explore the alleyway. His claws dig into a pile of damp cardboard as he sidesteps the icy-cold puddle of rain, oil-slicked, in the gutter.

“Hey!” someone says, and the cardboard shifts.

The wolf skitters back, and then remembers that he is a predator. He stops, and turns, and growls.

A boy’s face appears from underneath a layer of the cardboard. It is pale. His eyes are bloodshot and his lips are blue. He has a spray of moles across his face like an unfamiliar constellation. The boy freezes when he sees the wolf. “Holy shit.”

The wolf and death stare back at the boy.

The wolf has forgotten how to mark time.

He has no idea how long it is he stands there.

***

The boy’s bones are as brittle as the wolf’s, his skin as thin. When he curls his fingers through the wolf’s ruff, they are like icicles. His breath though, is hot. It tickles the wolf’s fur when he buries his face against it. His tears taste like salt.

Death circles them, in the little den the boy has made behind the cardboard in an alleyway in the cold, cold town.

The wolf tugs himself from the boy’s grip, and slinks back down the alley to the trashcans. His boy is too cold, too weak to crawl this far, so the wolf picks up a discarded burger in his jaws and carries it back to him.

The boy eats it, crying.

The wolf curls around him when they sleep.

Death steps closer, its black mouth open in hunger.

The wolf growls at it, the sound rumbling through his thin ribcage.

Not tonight.

Not tomorrow.

Maybe not this winter at all.

The wolf has a den now, and a heartbeat to share it with.

When the boy is strong again they will go into the woods and build a shelter there, and the wolf will remember his instincts, and the boy will learn his, and they will be packmates there, where the ground is soft underneath their feet and the stars are visible at night.

***

Keep reading

spartan1204 replied to your postk-nico-robin replied to…

Jinbei doesn’t add too much to the crew yet he’s joining, so Pudding joining isn’t too crazy of an idea

Originally posted by goccedivelenonelbicchiere

Hmmm… interesting point @spartan1204, although I disagree in this one because well Jinbe is joining anyways and in my opinion he has already proven that he is worthy enough to receive his place as a SH member with many ways. First of all without his help Luffy and Nami would be left inside the book prison.He is physically very strong and therefore only even this alone would be a reason enough for everyone wanting to hire him. Secondly, he has really good mentoring skills. Best example of this is placed to the pre time skip when Luffy was completely lost and driven in the mental breakdown after Ace’s death but Jinbe was the one to kick him up to the game again in middle of his sorrow. Latest chapters (sorry for spoilers) have also showed his ability to be the voice of reason. The others were devastated by Pedro’s sacrifice but Jinbe told them to keep up the fight because thanks to Pedro they were a bit in safer waters (until Momma strikes again).  Someone might think that voice of reasoning is “Zoro’s job” and yes he is usually the one who doesn’t let the emotions control in distress (for example in Luffy vs Usopp-chapter) but still, they are a team and they have tried to guide each other together at bad times, it’s not a job for only one member. 

As we learned in Fishman Island-saga, Jinbe has done bad things in his past and yes we can say it’s his fault that Arlong did what he did in East Blue and he admits it. However, Jinbe has showed being regretful about the events and even though his mistake caused Nami some deep wounds she was ready to forgive him, after all the years of agony.  What I try to say is that Jinbe is already completely accepted into the crew (he has no grudges with anyone and he has been a big help in general, in battlefields and outside of them) and that’s why I see Jinbe joining to the SH pirates much more logical than Pudding’s, currently.

Maybe what bothers me the most about Pudding’s possibilities to join the SH crew is that she has not shown any remorse about anything. Let’s say that I don’t hate her but like said earlier, she is too complicated for my brain at the moment. I don’t actually even know anymore what she actually thinks about Straw Hats, genuienly.  If we throw away the shippy goggles from this analyze (i.e her joining SH just because she likes Sanji-kinds of arguments) the possibilities for her to join decreases, in my opinion. Why? Because we still don’t know a thing about her real motivations. She can say this and that but since she has been a bit swingy with her thoughts lately, how we do even know whether she even wants to join the crew in first place? Yes she might want to get rid of BM but what if she wants to walk her own path after the victory? Or what if she really just despises all of them Straw Hats and what if everything else is just an act? Like said, we really don’t know much about her so it’s really hard to read her plans at the moment and that’s one reason I see her joining the SH crew a bit far fetched (this of course doesn’t mean I’m absolutely right about anything because I can’t read Oda-sensei’s mind).

Yes the aftermath about everything that has happened in WCI can be postponed to later chapters and we don’t know yet what Oda has prepared for us and them but so far it just doesn’t seem fair at all that someone who lied a lot without any regrets and caused quite a ruckus (planned or not) would be forgiven easily and let to be part of the crew. If that’d happen it would require crew chemistry and that Pudding would be genuinely sorry about everything without her having personality swings. At this moment she isn’t really popular among SH for reasons so she needs to work hard if she wants to regain any respect. As said anything can happen but I just would like to see that IF Oda decides to add her as a new SH that he would give her plausible reasons/storylines which allow her to join not just because “she is the fiancee of Sanji” and “she is now in love with him but can’t decide”-kind of reasons. 

Originally posted by zamasu