#don’t wanna hear anything negative this post

[emeraldbabygirl]

The first time I went to get my covid shot I filled out my health paperwork that same as I always have from the way my mum filled it out which was white and Native American and the lady that took my paperwork crossed out native or something and she just wrote white on the card and to this day and every time I think about it it pisses me off and I wanna cry like I know I look just white and I know it sounds silly to get mad over but Idk it just made me mad like I clearly wrote what I was and you just picked the one I look like. If I looked like a man blowups you say I was a man?? This skin stuff used to not bother me and I used to like being myself and shit but I’be gotten so uncomfortable in my body and skin over the years. I just wish I looked the way I wanted to look then I would be happier I think

[flawseer]

In your last ask, you mentioned misgivings with Book 10's ending, and especially how it pertains to Winter. I absolutely agree, and I know why, but I wanna hear your thoughts on it, too: What's up with Book 10?

The following is a (very long) examination of my personal feelings with regards to the WoF second story arc finale. While it is based on what is in the text, this analysis will be interpretive and fill in blanks with my own thoughts. Keep that in mind.

Hahhhh... okay. Since mentioning it in my last post I’ve gotten several requests to talk about my feelings regarding the second arc finale. There’s probably no way around it then.

If you haven’t read that last post (it was admittedly very long, and so will this one be), I talked briefly about why I didn’t like that part of the story. I have to warn you now, this will likely be the most negative and dour post in the history of this blog. In a few parts it will sound like I hate Wings of Fire, and I want to say now, while I still have the chance, that I don’t. I love this series, thinking about its setting and characters brings me joy.

I also—very emphatically—want to make it clear that I have no ill will against Tui T. Sutherland. I’ve looked around other people’s stuff a bit and there are a huge number of posts wishing violence upon her or threatening her for doing things to her series that people don’t agree with. That is NOT what I am doing here, shit like that is NOT okay! While I will be critical of her choices, I still respect her effort of bringing this vibrant, wonderful world of dragons to all of us.

Also, obligatory last disclaimer: If you liked the finale, that is okay. You are valid for feeling that way. I’m here to share my point of view, not to demand people agree with everything I say. Just be warned that you most likely won’t enjoy what I have to say. If you don’t think you can handle that kind of criticism, this is your guilt-free opportunity to stop reading.

Otherwise, let's get into it.

CW: Discussion of parental abuse, depression, disease, and extreme acts of violence.

In defense of the finale

Before I start to systematically disassemble this narrative and get lost in a quagmire of negativity, let’s talk a bit about the circumstances that brought forth this part of the story. The plot of this arc was a mess from the moment animus magic was unshackled from the restrictions it had in the first arc, and from then on there was no longer any conceivable way to end this story in a clean way. Sutherland had created an invincible, unbeatable, omnipotent villain; he could read minds, see the future with perfect clarity, and anything he could imagine he could conjure into existence at any time with no cost to himself and no drawbacks. She was likely wracking her brain about how to resolve this impossible conundrum. What we got wasn’t good, but I believe nothing could have been. The foundation was rotting and by the fifth book it couldn’t bear the weight of the plot anymore.

The thing about animus magic in arc 2 is that it is so potent, so all-powerful, and so free of restraint that everyone who uses it also HAS to be a simpleton, or they would be able to break the plot immediately and become god. From the moment Darkstalker broke out of that mountain, he could have said “Any and all spells that are cast with the intention to harm me, interfere with my plans, or do something I don’t consent to will not work, from now on until forever”, and he would have instantly won. The strawberry would have fizzled out. The Darkstalker-blocking earrings would not have been created, and no one could have saved the Icewings. On the flipside, Turtle or Anemone could have said “I enchant the concept of animus magic itself to no longer obey Darkstalker”, and his threat would have been neutered. Point is, powers as potent and easy to use as this really need limitations, or they will quickly eat your plot alive.

I don’t envy the situation Sutherland was in at the time at all. If you’re an author, that kind of thing is a nightmare. It really is no wonder she decided to blow up animus magic for good in her next arc, even if I would have preferred it to get more healthy restrictions instead of killing it outright.

The Darkstalker age regression thing

Everyone has talked this part to death already, but if I am to write a thorough analysis of my feelings regarding this finale, I’m going to have to talk about it as well. I’m sorry if I end up repeating a lot of things you’ve already heard.

This final fate of Darkstalker, to have his memories wiped and be reset to an infant, is really uncomfortable. As far as I am aware, though correct me if I’m wrong, Sutherland said in an interview that she didn’t want Darkstalker to die because, in her view, he did not deserve to. We can debate here about the philosophical question of whether anyone is truly deserving of death, and the merits of “justice” and “punishment”, but in general, Wings of Fire did not seem to have any issues killing off its villains prior if they committed suitably terrible acts. That makes this moment stand out as noteworthy.

Who is Darkstalker then--and if we assume villains can be “deserving” and “not deserving” of death--what about him speaks in his favor, or against? The guy had a pretty crappy childhood, coming from a broken home (there is that inadequate parent theme again). He genuinely loved his sister and felt protective of her, and whenever he liked someone he wanted them to be happy and feel affirmed. The thing that Queen Diamond does to his mother is awful and he is justified in hating her for it. He is also portrayed as rather sympathetic in Moon Rising. When he asks Moon to find his scroll for him and not to leave him, he is not manipulating her, he is sincerely begging for her help. He is stuck somewhere underground, trapped in darkness, in a space so tiny that he can’t move. He remains that way for months, lonely and sad. If you just focus on these aspects, it’s easy to understand why he has so many fans who want him to see healthy and happy.

On the flipside, while he is dedicated to the happiness of his friends, he doesn’t always go for the most ethical way to achieve it. He tries to brainwash said friends without their consent whenever they exhibit behaviors he doesn’t like, or when he thinks he knows better and wants to “fix” them. He has very little regard for other people’s autonomy, lies to his loved ones with alarming frequency, and is unhealthily attached to the idea of power. Those things are certainly not good, but they are his character flaws. These are his demons; everyone has them and they make him a person. If this was all there was to it, he might still be a villain, but I’d argue he’d not be wholly irredeemable.

But there are things about him that take him beyond the pale. Things that go beyond the realm of just being misunderstood, or easily excusable.

He is possessive. He wants Clearsight and Fathom for himself, and for them to listen to him primarily. When Indigo makes it clear she doesn’t like him and cautions Fathom against trusting him, he deceives his friends and traps Indigo in a wood carving, just so he can isolate Fathom from his support network and manipulate him easier. He alters Clearsight’s mind to make her more agreeable and stop her from holding him accountable for his actions; while he thinks he loves her, he only loves an idealized version of her that is wholly devoted to and unquestioning of him. This is why, when he later forcibly overwrites Fierceteeth’s existence to recreate her (which is another horrific thing), he tries to excise the parts he finds undesirable to create a perfect version of his lover. But this caricature he has created in his head is not and can never be Clearsight, which frustrates his attempts.

He is vengeful. Not against people who have actually wronged him, like Queen Diamond. That would be questionable, but understandable. What makes this unacceptable is his frequent targeting of innocent people who just happen to be related to the person who wronged him in some esoteric way. He enchants a secret murder knife that kills random Icewings regardless of who they are or what they think about the Queen, just because the one who took his mother from him happened to share their tribe. He hates Turtle and wishes death upon him in Moon Rising just because he is a green Seawing, like Fathom was. And then there is the big one: He tries to kill all the Icewings who are alive in the present day, where Queen Diamond is long dead and none of them have ever even met her. Even his mother, who suffered from Diamond’s actions the most and has the most reason to hate her, is horrified and calls him out on that one.

And lastly, he is sadistic. He revels in torturing those he hates. He forces his father to disembowel himself, while the latter is fully aware and powerless to resist AND the man’s traumatized daughter is watching. Later he sends a magical plague to kill every single living Icewing sans one.

It should be noted that Darkstalker possesses virtually infinite magical power; whatever he declares, with very few exceptions, will happen. Even if he wanted them dead, he had the power to prevent unnecessary suffering. He could have said “Arctic, fall dead instantaneously”, or “Every Icewing will fall asleep and pass away peacefully,” but he didn’t. He wanted them to feel pain and pass away in the most wretched, agonizing ways he could imagine.

So what he chose to do instead is—and I want you to picture this for a moment—Darkstalker sat down, calmly, and said “Henceforth every living Icewing, excepting Prince Winter and those of hybrid blood, will fall ill with an incurable disease. This disease will cause heavy internal bleeding and make its victims cough up blood and waste away for a few days, followed by certain death.”

This spell does not discriminate with regards to who its victims are. The book glosses over the implications, but imagine the ramifications. Young children are notoriously frail, how many newborns got infected and died because of this? How many families were torn apart because they couldn’t get the magic earrings fast enough? Or accidentally got one earring less than there were family members and had to decide who has to die?

Most of the Icewings were physically cured by the earrings, but an experience like that sticks with you for the rest of your life. Somewhere surely, a dragonet watched as his mother put the earring on him and then slowly wasted away because she didn’t have one for herself.

It’s really easy to overlook how horrific this spell is because it isn’t shown or dwelt on. But the trauma, grief, and suffering it caused must have been immeasurable.

And none of those victims have ever even met the person Darkstalker wanted to get revenge on. None of those deaths meant anything to anyone.

The attempted death toll and scale of the calamity here puts even Scarlet to shame. The ones who come closest to it were Queen Battlewinner and Morrowseer with their attempted Rainwing extermination. All three of those died for what they did. Gives you some food for thought for sure.

Peacemaker’s burden

Despite just airing all of his dirty laundry and declaring him an irredeemable villain, I actually do have a lot of sympathy for Darkstalker still. His story is really sad. He was a child born with an amount of power that nobody should possess, and it corrupted him to the point where it destroyed his life before it began. His parents were always fighting and no matter how good his intentions were, he was unable to understand why he couldn’t hold on to his friends and relationship. He kept making mistakes, then made bigger mistakes to fix those, until his hands were covered in blood and he couldn’t stop anymore. My belief is that, after he wakes up in the present and realizes Clearsight is dead, he loses his reason for living and becomes completely lost in his grief.

Therefore, my opinion is that it would have been appropriate for him to die. If not to punish him, then to finally grant him reprieve from all that rage and pain, and let him rest. I think that would have been a dignified end.

But instead he got turned into a baby. ... And then they decided to magically erase his father’s blood from him? I don’t know what it is, but something about that Icewing erasure makes my skin crawl?

The thing that turns this baby twist from weird into highly unsettling is the context. Darkstalker’s mind is erased, then modified into a new person via animus magic. This is the technique a lot of this arc’s villains used to victimize Hailstorm, Queen Ruby, Peril, Kinkajou, Fierceteeth, and Winter. The same technique is now used again, by the heroes, which is a dangerous thing to have your protagonists do if you want them to remain morally upright.

It is also very reckless, because in almost all of these instances, animus mind alteration has been shown to be very unreliable. The spells seem to wear down over time and are susceptible to partial breaking upon encountering certain strong stimuli. Hailstorm—while trapped as Pyrite—seems to retain trace amounts of his former memories, which is why Pyrite is subconsciously drawn to Winter and clings to him all the time. Ruby is able to ignore half of her conditioning because her familial love for her son partially overpowers the magic. Qibli is just straight up able to reason his way out of it.

The thing to note here is that spells of this nature require a very meticulous approach; you can’t half-ass your reprogramming or the victim will just think their way past it. If you alter someone’s mind, the wording of the spell must be ironclad, lest you risk it wearing down over time and even break.

Luckily we have nothing to fear in that regard, because the spell that created Peacemaker was written by a Rainwing with a total of four days of literacy training. No one better mention the name Clearsight to the new baby Nightwing, or next month is going to be rather interesting.

But that’s just speculation on my part. Let’s assume that, somehow, this spell isn’t as unstable as all the others. Somehow Kinkajou threaded all the needles, and masterfully dodged every conceivable pitfall to pen the perfect incantation, despite having been illiterate just a few weeks prior. This one is built to last and Darkstalker is sealed away really thoroughly, for good.

That is still absolutely terrible and morally dubious, because now you have Peacemaker, who for all intents and purposes is a COMPLETELY innocent little kid, saddled with this huge burden of being the certifiable reincarnation of a genocidal ancient wizard. He’s gonna grow up thinking things like “Mommy gets real quiet whenever the topic of the Icewing tragedy is brought up,” and “Why does Auntie Moon look at me like that? One time she accidentally called me a weird name, who is Darkstalker?” “What is this ‘Clearsight’ name my mind-reading friends from the village found in Mommy’s mind?”

In a village that will be full of mind-readers soon, eventually the secret will come out, and Peacemaker is going to learn what was done to him. A huge, messy load of undeserved baggage was forced onto this completely separate, innocent entity. He will be devastated. Whether he then chooses to forgive them for this remains to be seen. To be honest, he would be well within his right not to, and turn resentful.

Poor kid.

Qibli’s callousness

I love Qibli, he is one of my favorite characters. This happens to be his book, and the fact that I fundamentally dislike half of it makes me rather sad. If anything, I hope this tells you that I’m not just hating on it for my personal amusement. I really wanted to like this. I tried to, and I couldn’t.

Qibli is really weird in this one, to be honest. He is suddenly made to be co-dependent on Moonwatcher, fawning over her every third paragraph, saying how much he loves her, how he is an incomplete and dysfunctional wreck without her, how it physically pains him to be apart from her, oh if only the stars would grant his wish and split the mountains apart so that he may fly to his princess, his muse, his goddess of ebony wit. It gets so old.

And it’s not Qibli. He never acted this clingy towards Moonwatcher. It’s more intense than even Winter gets about Moon, and Winter was actually depicted with a crush on her in book 6. Qibli was always just a supportive element, eager to befriend Moon but never desperate, like he is going to keel over if he is separated from his true love five minutes longer. These very frequent love declarations feel so forced coming out of him. It strikes me like it was just written in service of the love triangle. Maybe if we make him confess his love every four seconds readers will overlook the fact that they had no proper romantic build-up.

You might rightly accuse me of bias. I have previously admitted I am fond of Qibli/Winter as a romantic pairing, on the surface this seems like I am just not happy with my pet ship being blocked by Moonwatcher. But I assure you, I am actually pretty flexible and accommodating even towards pairings that contradict my preferences. I have no issues with Winter/Moonwatcher, for example, because the possibility was properly established and they have good romantic chemistry in Winter Turning. In theory, I would have no problem with Qibli/Moonwatcher either if it was ever set up as an interesting romantic dynamic. But to me, it seems like Qibli is written as a good, supportive friend to Moon for four books, only to pivot hard into “Moon moon moon moon moon moon swoon” at the last second, and it just reads to me as obnoxious.

I got distracted. This section is called “Qibli’s callousness”, and I haven’t even talked about the main part.

Qibli and Winter have excellent chemstry together, whether you read it as romantic or platonic—both of these interpretations have merit and are set up. They’re always the highlight of any scene they’re in. Throughout the story arc you get the impression that these two really get on each other’s nerves, but they bond and grow into really strong friends who bicker a lot but have each other’s backs when it counts.

Then there is a scene where Qibli casually tells Winter that he wouldn’t object if someone wanted to mind-control away some of Winter’s more objectionable traits.

This is genuinely a terrible thing to say to your friend. Like, it crosses a line and ceases to be harmless banter; you’re just telling them that there is something you hate about them so much that you wish they were someone else. Winter actually WAS mind-controlled earlier and felt (and proably still feels) guilty about having attacked Qibli in that state. And now Qibli says “Hey, I wouldn’t mind if someone did that to you again! Hue hue!”

It is awful, BUT I don’t necessarily object to Qibli saying this here. Qibli is in the middle of his character arc at this moment, so he is expected to be flawed. He is making a mistake by thoughtlessly telling Winter this horrid thing, and it seems like a believable continuation of his current character track. This is a reasonable development as long as the plot acknowledges that it’s a mistake.

Spoilers: The plot doesn’t acknowledge that it’s a mistake. Qibli never has a scene after where he reflects upon what he said and apologizes to Winter. When Darkstalker has Qibli trapped in his mountain jail and mind-wipes Qibli’s grandfather into a toddler (hey, wait a minute), Qibli gets visibly disturbed. Like, this is so off-putting to him that he gets queasy and Darkstalker hastily changes the spell. That could have been a great way to bring this back. Like in the epilogue, have Qibli track down Winter and tell him about disturbing baby grandpa theater and how he realized that wiping people’s minds is actually messed up and should have never said that to him.

But he doesn’t. He just lets Winter go, allowing him to believe he is broken and needs magical intervention to be tolerable. It leaves me to think that maybe he’s still okay with it, and fantasizing about rewriting his friend’s mind. Great.

Moonwatcher’s character death

You will find as this goes on that, I get the impression that the second half of this book takes all of the wonderful, endearing characters I have learned to love throughout the story and replaces them with really mean, or stupid, or otherwise inaccurate caricatures.

Moonwatcher’s relationship with Darkstalker gets plenty of setup and development in Moon Rising. You get the sense that these two could be great friends if their circumstances were a little different. It does a great job at making you think maybe Darkstalker is just misunderstood; maybe Moon should free him from his predicament.

Then at the end of Escaping Peril comes the emotional gut punch. Darkstalker actually IS a villain. He callously admits to Moonwatcher that he used his magic to make his own father gruesomely disembowel himself. Moonwatcher is horrified and disgusted that he would do that. There is no circumstance in which something like that would ever be okay. She ends the scene awash in tears because the person she thought was her friend is a murderer and a sadist. This is good, that is a natural reaction to what she was just told.

A few hours from there, in Talons of Power, Turtle finds Moon again and she is completely cool with Darkstalker walking free, despite crying her eyes out after feeling so betrayed earlier. That may seem strange, but this is still good because later, Darkstalker’s mind control plot is discovered. This scene was obviously written to set that up, Moon is mind-controlled into forgetting that Darkstalker could do something that morally reprehensible, and thus forgives him. This is also completely in line with his characterization in Legends: Darkstalker. It’s a kind of stunt he would pull to get Clearsight to shut up about him slipping into villainy.

In my earlier post I alluded to a moment where Moon is set to narrative auto-pilot and says something so rampantly off-kilter that it does irreversible, permanent damage to her character. It happens here, in the second half of book 10. Qibli gives Moon the Darkstalker protection earring, and Moon, somehow, says “I’m not being mind-controlled, Darkstalker really is my friend.”

I get what the plot tries to do here. It’s taking this concept of mind-control and adding a nuance, in an attempt to flesh out Darkstalker and give his character depth. He is ready to control everyone in the world, but for Moon, who is his best friend in this era, he wants her to remain herself. Perhaps this is his attempt at attonement for playing with Clearsight’s mind and driving her away from him. It is very touching in a way, viewed in isolation.

Unfortunately, it does not work with the full context of all the books. Because Moon is in auto-pilot mode right now, her main character trait is “Darkstalker=Friend,” so naturally she would speak in support of him. But this revelation has devastating retroactive consequences. The earlier scene that was written with Moon under mind-control is now altered into her having been in her right mind! She is completely okay with Darkstalker’s admittance to cold-blooded torture and evisceration, within hours of being so shocked by it that it made her cry and ready to denounce him. That is such a quick turnaround it’s giving me whiplash. And what’s more it turns Moon from a principled, upstanding girl into a sociopath who casually accepts gruesome torture and murder if it is committed by someone she likes.

Did Sutherland forget about the scene two books ago, where Darkstalker’s actions were so inconceivably horrid for Moon to learn of that she started crying? It baffles me that this made it into the final version. Her saying she was never mind-controlled makes Moon come off as so awful. This torture-excusing lunatic is not the same kind-hearted and insightful character I followed in all the other books.

Kinkajou’s character derailment

The world is a sad place when I have to question the way Kinjajou is written. Fortunately she is mostly fine, despite her having the biggest excuse to act out-of-character since she’s the victim of a mind-altering spell. Her only real moment of “what!?” comes at the end.

I already talked about her role in casting the spell that regresses Darkstalker into an infant. But I didn’t mention how her being the source of it is questionable in itself.

The clue is in the first paragraph of this section: She herself has experienced the effects of invasive mind-alteration. She was cursed by Anemone in the previous book to be in love with Turtle, and kind of half-struggles kind of not with it, it’s really strange. Turtle is appropriately horrified and acts like really awful things are happening, but then it’s mostly played lightly for some reason. My assumption is that Sutherland introduced this plot point, but then realized how uncomfortable this premise really is and tried to downplay it until the story got to a point where it could get done away with.

But I think the takeaway is still supposed to be that this was a horrid thing to do (which it absolutely is), and that Kinkajou will have to spend a lot of time trying to untangle her real emotions from the fake ones the spell created.

The point is: Kinkajou knows first-hand how awful it is to do something like that to another person. Ideally she should never even conceive of the idea to cast a spell like that, but if we’re really set on this Darkstalker baby thing and it has to happen, she should at least be a bit hesitant about it. And afterwards she should struggle with the guilt of having resorted to it. Not celebrate it and be proud, like it’s funny.

The assassination of Winter’s future

Now we come to the part I’ve alluded to previously; the part where all of these threads converge to utterly destroy one character and drive him to the brink of ruin. Let’s talk about Winter.

Prince Winter is the son of Tundra and Prince Narwhal, hatching in the same clutch as his sister Icicle. He spent his formative years being unfavorably compared to said sister—who easily took to traits that Icewing royalty considers desirable—whereas Winter struggled greatly to embody those same ideals. He was just a little too kind, too merciful, too gentle. As a result he often had to endure abuse from his parents, who made him feel like he was defective.

Because he was young and didn’t have any other frame of reference, he embraced this abusive narrative and began to drive himself with a vigor unreasonable for someone of his age. He scraped and cloyed for every bit of credit he could get, obsessing over advancing up the circle rankings in an attempt to “purge” the wrongness out of himself. To make his parents as proud of him as they were of Icicle.

This never worked. He was always seen as the runt, poised to embarrass the family name. Whatever he did, no matter how hard he strived, there was always something he could have done better.

The only real source of love and affirmation in his life was his older brother, Hailstorm. Where everyone else only saw what Winter wasn’t, Hailstorm embraced his brother despite of his “failings” and was openly affectionate with him. When Winter was with him, it was okay to not think about rankings all the time, and just be himself for a bit. I assume Hailstorm fulfilled a similar role for Icicle as well, which is why both of them love him dearly, and Icicle destroys her own life to bring him back.

Winter also has a fascination with scavengers, possibly because they are small and perceived as useless, like he himself is. He likely feels a kinship with them and observes them being craftier and more adept than everyone else sees them. This is therapeutic for him, to see that a thing can have merit even if no one wants to see it.

One day, he and Hailstorm sneak into Skywing territory so Winter can catch a scavenger as a pet. This excursion turns hostile when they are discovered by a roaming Skywing troop and faced with the prospect of capture, possibly execution. In a gambit to save Winter from this fate, Hailstorm mirrors the words of his parents, calling Winter pathetic and useless, so the Skywings will not think of him as a threat and show mercy. His act succeeds in convincing the Skywings, but it also convinces Winter, who does not understand Hailstorm only said these things to save his life. He returns home—believing his brother hated him all along—to face the wrath of his furious family for losing them “the desirable son”.

For all of his life, these themes have repeated themselves and haunted him. “I was born wrong and defective,” “I am unlovable,” “No one wants me.”

A few months after the war ends, Winter is one of the five Icewings enrolled in the newly founded Jade Mountain Academy. Shortly after departing, he unexpectedly returns home, having successfully rescued his older brother and bringing him back. He is made to believe that this erases his mistakes, his mother even pays him a backhanded compliment, an uncharacteristically “nice” gesture. He is promoted to the top of the rankings, finally his parents are proud of him.

But of course it is all a trick. The “adoration” afforded to him was all a ploy. Secretly, his parents abused power and tradition to arrange for Winter’s death. They force him into a lethal trial they intentionally rigged against him, all to finally erase that stain on their family’s honor.

Winter finally realizes the true nature of his parents’ opinion of him. Even when he succeeds, and does everything right, he is still defective, unlovable, and unwanted. He will never be anything else to his family. And so he leaves his homeland, pretending he is dead, resigned to live in hiding forever.

During this time, while at the brink of despair, Winter is able to draw strength from one source: His new friends from the academy. He vocalizes that, for all the abuse he suffered at the hands of his birth family, he fervently believes that THEY would never do anything like that to him. They chose to stuck with him, even when he was awful, and told him he was not hopeless. He was not a mistake; he could be deserving of love.

So naturally, he returns to them; they accept him readily, are willing to be his new surrogate family. When he almost burns to death at a later point, they fear and weep for him. When Qibli sets out to confront his own abusive family, Winter, despite being mind-controlled into a placid potato at the time, feels concerned enough for his friend’s safety to insist to come along (returning the favor of them accompanying him in his time of need in book 7). When Darkstalker’s mind control forces Winter to attack Qibli, he is shown ashamed and guilty of it once the control wears off again.

They bicker and struggle, and make mistakes, they break up but always come back together again. Time and time again the one thing that is always reinforced: When the cards are down, Winter loves his friends, and they love him. They would never intentionally hurt each other, or give up on each other.

I want you to keep in mind how wholesome, and loving, and mutually supportive this ramshackle band of misfits has been portrayed to this point... Because we’re moving on to the arc 2 finale, and it will do everything it can to corrupt all of it and consign Winter to a life of misery.

We arrive at aforementioned scene, where Moonwatcher receives her earring. Just a little bit prior, Winter had learned that Darkstalker unleashed a magical plague onto his people in an attempt to wipe them out. Now here is Moonwatcher, revealing that she is not under any spell, and has aligned herself with this guy willingly, speaking fondly of him as if he was a dear friend who never did any wrong. Winter takes this badly and accidentally breaks a vase; the narrative lingers on this moment and really tries to sell us on how unreasonable Winter’s reaction is, how he is overreacting, but let’s examine that interpretation for a moment.

Moonwatcher doesn’t yet know about the attempted Icewing genocide, but she DOES know about Darkstalker being okay with casting spells to inflict immeasurable torture upon those he hates. WE know that she knows this, so her stance here is already suspect. Yet she goes on to praise Darkstalker and refer to him as a friend. Look at this from Winter’s perspective. This “friend” of Moonwatcher just tried to kill his entire tribe, and he actually succeeded in killing his aunt, Queen Glacier, a person Winter greatly respects. Winter is currently unable to return to his homeland for fear of being branded a traitor. Even if he could return, he knows his obstinate and spiteful family would prevent him from attending the funeral, meaning he is not even afforded the basic dignity of saying farewell to his aunt. The aunt whom Darkstalker murdered by making her vomit her own blood until she withered away in her bed. And here is Moon, absolving the person who did this to Glacier from his appalling actions, despite knowing full well what Darkstalker is capable of and choosing to look away.

I don’t know about you, but I think I can forgive the grieving, emotionally overwhelmed boy for shattering a little pottery after hearing his trusted friend—who held his hand when he was dying—say that the guy who makes people disembowel themselves and wipes out entire countries may be misunderstood and not so bad. I think I would have a similar reaction. In fact, I would never want to talk to her ever again.

There is no way I can read this scene in which Moon doesn’t come off as either an absolute lunatic, or critically stupid and callous. In fact, based on her earlier behavior I half-expect her to get over the news of the attempted Icewing massacre in a couple hours, saying “Eh, it’s kinda bad, but you just have to do these kinds of things sometimes, you know? I’m sure he had his reasons.”

Then there is the part where Qibli makes his off-color comment about how Winter’s brain could really use a good wash. I already went into how it could have worked but didn’t. But with the timing here, we’ve already had Moon spit on their friendship, so as Winter’s other closest friend, it naturally follows that Qibli also craps on his feelings.

Consider the context: Winter comes from an abusive household where his parents forcibly tried to change him away from who he was to purge the “wrongness” from him. When they betray him and he narrowly escapes their attempt on his life, he re-affirms his belief in his friends, and the knowledge that they wouldn’t treat him like that gives him the strength he needs to keep going. But now, Qibli asserts that Winter DOES need to be altered, thereby AGREEING with Winter’s abusive parents, rendering Winter’s affirmation from book 7 erroneous. Qibli WOULD treat him like that if it made Winter less “intolerable”.

Neither Moonwatcher nor Qibli ever make an attempt to repair this rift. Winter is left betrayed and alone.

Stuff happens, and the forces of the Nightwings and Icewings come to blows over Jade Mountain. With his two closest friends having written him off and his support network eroded, Winter relapses into thinking he is worthless, seeks validation in unquestioning patriotism, and realigns himself with his abusive family by throwing himself into the battle. Nobody wants him to, in fact his parents still hate him for it, but whatever. His father dies and his mother blames him for it.

Meanwhile Turtle, Anemone, and Qibli are cooking up a solution to the battle problem. They have the idea to make everyone’s minds connect in a huge empathy wave for a few moments, which I think is a pretty interesting idea for what it’s worth. But then they teleport both armies back to their homes, and the spell sweeps Winter up with them, taking him out of the rest of the finale and bringing him to the Ice Kingdom. The characters say “whoops” but aren’t further concerned with the situation. It’s all a big laugh.

Let me remind you that Winter is currently considered not welcome on Icewing territory. His family, whom he was sent back with, is extremely abusive and vindictive. His friends know this. Said parents have previously arranged for him to be killed, and are still on record as wanting him dead. His friends KNOW this. And now he is alone with them and a gaggle of other royal Icewings who all are extremely pissed off at him for ruining their sacred trial site.

It is very possible that he is being torn apart and mauled by an enraged mob right now. He could be forced into captivity and flayed. Maybe the interim regent is sentencing him to death and getting the rope ready. There is a million different horrible things that could be happening to Winter right now, while he is trapped alone with people who hate him, things his friends would be reasonably able to anticipate. And nobody is doing anything to get him out of there, to suggest bringing him back, even though it would only take a single spoken sentence to do so! They aren’t even concerned!

Then the climax happens, strawberry thing and all, and we get the coup de grâce. After all is said and done, the group decides that Winter is untrustworthy, and that they must protect the secret of Darkstalker’s fate from him, because they fear if he knew he would kill Peacemaker.

Moon, who read Winter’s mind in book 6 and reached out to him about how the “ruthless Icewing warrior” persona in his head is a facade and how she sees he has a gentle and good heart... Moon, who in book 7 finds out about Winter’s secret deal to kill Glory and STILL trusts him, who calls out his bullshit to his face because she KNOWS how kind-hearted Winter is and that he would never resort to murder... Moon who, again, held his hand while he was dying... thinks that the dragon she has reminded of his compassionate nature time and time again would kill an innocent child.

This is disgusting. Moon believing that is so far off the mark with regards to anything this group has embodied or done for any of the last 4 books, that my only conclusion can be that these are different characters. Maybe the Nightwing library collapsed on top of original Moon, and when Darkstalker magiced her back to health she came back wrong or something. I don’t know.

So after all of this, Winter is left alone. He somehow escaped from the Ice Kingdom; luckily there is a timeskip so we can just gloss over the horrible situation he was put in by his friends. He thinks about Jade Mountain. He reflects on everything that happened, how his parents never really loved him... How they hated him so much they tried to kill him... How he despaired, but found solace in his friends who loved him for who he was.... How those friends then betrayed him too and magiced him away... How they didn’t care about what happened to him... And he decides he is done. He won’t bother going back. A few people, probably Sunny, reach out to tell him he is welcome back, but he says “it wouldn’t be fair to other Icewings if an exile took up a bed”. The decision isn’t hard to make, after all there is nothing left for him there. Everyone has written him off, moved on and left him behind.

Kinkajou visits sometimes, tries to stay in touch, but that’s just how she is. Maybe the others sent her to check on whether he’s going to become troublesome. They don’t trust him. Better to keep an eye on him, he might kill the baby.

With nowhere else to go, Winter moves to Sanctuary, a place for rejects like him. I picture him standing there, at the edge of a cliff staring blankly into the distance. He is completely alone; no one wants to go near him or talk to him beyond the bare necessities. He could probably make new friends with the Talons of Peace if he tried, but there is no point. Why should someone like him have friends? It wouldn’t work. They’d just decide he is too inconvenient to be around. Sooner or later they would just tell him to leave anyway. It's better not to try, so he doesn't get hurt again.

And slowly it dawns on him. His parents had been right all along. It was never them, or the others, it was him. He is the problem. The Icewings said it, Qibli said it, Moonwatcher said it. There is just something fundamentally wrong with him.

He is defective. He is unlovable. Nobody wants him. He will never be anything, or have anyone. And so he stands at the cliff, looking over the broken vase fragments of his life... This is who he is. Prince Winter. A mistake.

And quietly, where no one knows or cares, he does the only thing he has left to do... he begins to weep.

As it is written, the tale of Winter is the story of a boy who is told he is wrong for being alive. He closes his ears and tries to keep walking forward, desperate to prove that he is not an error, that he has merit. But this book comes out and it unmistakably says that he doesn’t. He is nothing, and he deserves to have nothing.

And I just cannot accept that.

Why did this have to happen?

I think that the author was really struggling with the ending of this book. I’ve said before how much of a corner she wrote herself into with such an invincible villain. I think she came up with the strawberry idea as a solution to this problem. But as she was writing it, the characters kept fighting her. It was not a natural solution, not a decision the characters—as they were established—would ever make.

So concessions had to be made to force the issue. Established traits had to be bent slightly to make this plot work. The farther she went, the worse it got. The concessions piled up and turned into contrivances. Eventually the characters were no longer acting like themselves. Their bonds got stretched too far and some snapped. It’s a very tragic pitfall that occurs with long-running series.

I think Sutherland must have also been tired. Writing an entire book is a monumental task, and writing 6 connected ones even moreso. She also comes out with these things really quickly. Maybe she was burnt out? Maybe she wanted to be done and her attention lapsed. Maybe that’s why she forgot that Moon knew about the disemboweling. It seems reasonable to believe when you consider that the next story arc would make a relatively clean break from the problems of this arc, especially with regards to the magic system.

But I don’t know what ultimately happened, so I can only speculate. I reiterate, I bear no ill will against Sutherland for writing this. Even if I kind of hate everything about this finale, and very vocally wish it would be different, I don’t want this examination to generate (or reawaken) any hatred towards her, or to attack her personally. I understand the pain of an artist who gets trapped with something for too long and has to find the means, any means, to see it through to the end. I criticize the story, but I could never hate anyone for that.

But for me, I do not consider this half of the book as part of the story. The characters act too unnaturally for it to have happened. So to me, it didn’t. We don’t know what happened, maybe Darkstalker is still out there. Maybe they dealt with him. Maybe what actually happened is my crappy and self-indulgent rewrite of the ending which I will never show to anyone because it would be really embarrassing.

But whatever actually ended up happening, I am sure Winter never ended up at that cliff, pondering how worthless and meaningless his life was. He is currently at Jade Mountain, surrounded by friends who love him, and bickering with Qibli about the correct solution to their advanced calculus assignment that is due tomorrow.

Is there anything left to say?

Probably.

I didn’t talk about Anemone yet. You know, in the epilogue she enchants herself a bracelet that makes her “not be so mean all the time”. I find that creepy. To me it reads as Anemone voluntarily brainwashing herself with magic to erase her negative traits instead of growing past them naturally because she finds them undesirable and wants to work to change for the better. I would ordinarily assume that this is an overreaction on my part, and I’m just reading the scene wrong. But no, we just got through a part where the heroes brainwashing someone is treated as an unequivocal good and worthy of celebration, so I think my reading may actually be spot on. Why are we letting the little kid alter her own brain without supervision? Hello? Tsunami? Someone intervene maybe? This cannot be healthy.

Turtle stands out to me as the one bright spot in all of this. He (and Peril, but she’s mostly out of focus) remain as the only main characters of this arc who don’t have any mind-boggling out-of-character moments or sudden streaks of uncharacteristic callousness. I really like the part where Qibli goes to free Turtle from his captivity and plans to give him an earful about the comically unhelpful messages he’s been sending him. But when Turtle asks if what he did was helpful, Qibli sees how beaten down and exhausted Turtle is, and wordlessly drops his frustration to tell him “Yeah, they were helpful.” That is the true Qibli shining through for a moment, showing that he cares about the well-being of his friends.

Do I hate the pairing of Qibli/Moonwatcher? No. Well, I DO hate how it happened in the book, and how the story tried to assassinate Winter’s character to resolve the love triangle and make it happen. I don’t hate it on principle though. If you are a fan of Qibli/Moonwatcher and want to write fanfics about it, please do! I absolutely encourage you to do that! Maybe you can fix this mess and turn it into something that’s actually properly handled!

Mightyclaws keeps the power that Darkstalker granted him past the finale. That means all the spells that Darkstalker cast are technically still active. Does that mean the Icewings have to wear earrings for the rest of their lives? Do they get sick again if they take them off? Is Peril forever cursed to think of Darkstalker as a cool old uncle and has to somehow reconcile how everyone else thinks of him? How did the Nightwings relinquishing their powers work, do they have to wear the earrings forever too now?

And there is one more thing to mention.

My confession

You may have already intuited this, if you’ve been following the content of my blog. It is very heavily skewed towards the first and second arcs of the series. I would now like to confess something.

When I read the second half of book 10, I found it so disillusioning, Winter’s fate so upsetting... that I put down the series then and there. And I haven’t picked it back up since.

That’s right, I have not read arc 3. I don’t know if that makes me a fake fan. I know pretty much everything that happens in it, the controversial twist at the end, Pyrrhia coming back into the story later, Snowfall getting brainwashed by a piece of jewelry until she cares about a plot that had nothing to do with her or the fate of the Icewings, etc..

It’s not out of malice, or because it’s a new continent. The opposite in fact; I would have greatly prefered a clean break with a new setting—Bug-themed dragons in a slightly more contemporary, developed environment sounds fascinating and full of potential. I don’t hate Pantala or the new characters.

I just... I can’t really do this again. I can’t handle the thought of Pyrrhia coming back post-Darkstalker, with Winter showing up and talking to these guys again like nothing happened, seeming like a different person, joking around with them like his entire character wasn’t dragged through a mountain of manure to make the plot bend a certain way. I think as long as this is the ending that the story is continuing from, seeing that would just make me miserable.

Maybe I will just stay in the parts of the story that I fell in love with. And imagine a version of reality in which Pantala is allowed to exist on its own, where Swordtail was the fourth POV character of arc 3, where Queen Wasp stayed the villain throughout, and Snowfall got her own legends book about how she reformed Icewing society and fixed all the shit that poisoned Winter’s life, so future generations don’t have to suffer through the same stuff he did.

~~~~~

If you’re still with me, thank you for reading this far. I think this is everything I ever thought about the finale of the second story arc, so now I never have to talk about it again. Writing this was difficult. I found it crushing at times. This will probably stand as the only overtly negative post I have ever made on this blog. I love Wings of Fire, and I want to celebrate it. To add to it, not tear it down.

I hope this wasn’t too boring, or painful, or frustrating, or soul-crushing to read through. I’ll see you later, hopefully with a more constructive post.

[bangtanintotheroom]

On the Nose (M)

I'ma put this pussy on your face

Open up boy, come and get a taste

🔊 just wanna - iggy azalea (spotify | soundcloud) 🔊

• Pairing: Dokyeom x (F)Reader

• Genre: Non-Idol!AU, Humor, Smut, Friends to Lovers

• Rating: 18+

• Words: 2.5k

• Summary: Seokmin thinks his nose might be too big. You’re quick to give him reasons as to why he’s wrong.

• Warnings/themes: insecurity, reassurance, OC with the compliments 🥹, Seokmin getting carried away, face-sitting, oral (f. receiving), groping, multiple orgasms, overstimulation

• Notes: Look, all I'm going to say is that my thing for noses flares up whenever I look at DK and that was the inspo for this drabble. So sit and enjoy AJ's unhinged mind 🤪✨ thanks again to @wooahaeproductions for being an awesome beta! 💖

Reminder that I have a permanent taglist if you’re interested in all future fics I post!

“Y/N?”

“Hm?”

“Is my nose too big?”

Your friend’s out of nowhere question made you pause your mobile game and look up in bewilderment. You found him standing in front of his dresser, head leaned in close to the mirror.

“What? No, it’s not.”

Seokmin hummed, the tone unconvinced.

“Are you sure? You can be honest with me, y’know.”

Frowning deeply, you set your phone down and rose from the bed to walk over and stand next to him.

“Seokmin, why would I lie? Your nose is fine. Did someone say something about it?”

“No…”

His trailing off did not deter you from digging deeper.

“Seokmin.”

Your biting tone and hard stare made him flinch, not wanting to feel your wrath.

“No one said anything, per se, but they were looking. Really hard.”

“Who?”

Seokmin’s reflection shrugged his broad shoulders.

“Multiple people. We’d be having a conversation and I’d just notice their eyes going to my nose at some point.”

His explanation gave you some clarity now, but were they really thinking negative thoughts about it? You couldn’t understand why the poor guy was so concerned about his nose all of a sudden. To you, it was one of his best features.

Yes, he had a blinding smile. Yes, you would kill to have his cheekbones. Yes, he was just a handsome guy in general.

But having a dignified and regal nose increased his looks by at least fifty percent (if you were being modest).

It just suited him so well that you couldn’t picture him with anything more basic or minuscule. Anything less pointy and upright would not fit Lee Seokmin.

“Seokmin, maybe they were looking because they like it.”

Your friend turned away from the mirror to study you with interest.

“You think so?”

You gazed up at him confidently.

“I know so.”

“But don’t people usually prefer smaller noses?”

A scoff left before you explained, “Fuck what beauty standards say, I think big noses are one of the best things anyone could have. Think about it. When people get plastic surgery, they can only go smaller, not bigger, right?”

”Right…”

“So it’s something that’s natural and only special people are blessed with! Like yourself!”

Your reassurance was paired with a tap to said special feature, pulling a bright grin from Seokmin.

“Y/N, you know just how to cheer me up, don’t you?”

“Of course, dummy. That’s what friends are for!”

The both of you giggled, the atmosphere lighter than before due to your affirmations. It felt good to ease his worries, but as you laughed, one last fact came to your brain.

It wasn’t as innocent as the previous ones, but it was a truth for you. One you had personal experience with on more than one occasion.

“Seokmin.”

“Hm?”

“You know what else big noses are really good for?”

Seokmin’s dark brown eyes watched you with curiosity and a hint of eagerness.

“What?”

You looked up at him, face blank like a sheet of paper.

“Sitting on.”

He became a cartoon character immediately, eyes bugging and mouth flying open to let out a yelp while his hands covered his ears.

“Y/N! What?!”

“Hey—” You reached up to rip his palms down so he could hear properly. “—it’s true!”

“Is it, you…you…pervert? Or are you just making things up to make me feel better?!”

A scowl came across your face as you lightly punched his arm.

“I’m serious, idiot! Have you never heard of a girl using someone’s nose to get off?”

“No! Well, I mean, maybe, but I wasn’t paying attention if anyone did say that.”

Rolling your eyes, you crossed your arms and readied yourself to continue convincing him.

“It’s true, okay?”

Seokmin blinked before squinting his eyes.

“And who’s your source?”

You met him with nothing but passiveness.

“Me, myself and I.”

All he could do was gape at you like a fish, stunned that you were revealing such an intimate secret about yourself.

Now, you were used to Seokmin’s dramatic reactions to mundane or extreme situations, but he usually did it out of fun. Yet something about the way his eyes darted all over your face told you that it was genuine astonishment he gave.

Which led to you challenging, “What, you’ve never had anyone sit on your face before?”

“No!”

Huh. Shocker.

“Really?”

His frantic nod only made your brows raise in wonder. It was a shame that this man had never been privy to the act. God strategically placed his nose at such an angle to reach crevices deep within women and it was being wasted for everything else but that.

An idea began brewing in you, wanting to convince him that he was missing out on something fun.

Licking your lips, you cocked your head to the side and let your suggestion out.

“Wanna try?”

Seokmin became too stunned to speak. All he could do was sputter at your offer.

“I— Y/N, you—!”

“Seokmin, I’m serious. It’s an experience.”

The way you grinned slyly was akin to suggesting your friend cut class with you, not let you use his face as a grinding pad.

“How am I going to convince you if you won’t let me sit on your face?”

Seokmin’s ajar mouth finally shut, jaw clenched as he looked you over from head to toe, gauging the seriousness of your offer. He saw little deceit and seemed to relax a bit.

“Y/N…would you really do that?”

You nodded.

“If it’ll make you feel better about your nose, absolutely. You’re welcome to say no if you don’t want to, though.”

The other pulled in his lower lip as he mulled over his answer. You were middle of the road right now. If he said no, you would take no offense and carry on like nothing happened. But if he said yes…

“Then…let’s try it.”

Oh. Neat!

Smiling in triumph, you held your arm out towards the bed.

“Go get comfortable.”

Seokmin’s lips quirked lightly at your instructions, walking over to lie on his back in the middle of the mattress. His head lifted to peer at you with query.

“Is this a good position?”

“Perfect. You’re a beginner, so it’s best if you stay completely flat.”

Humming at your reasoning, his eyes widened when your hands reached for your bottoms, undoing them as if you were undressing at the end of a long day. You saw him visibly swallow when your pants pooled around your ankles. But then he clutched the sheets when your fingers crept under the elastic of your panties, sliding them down your legs.

Seokmin tried his best to look less petrified as you looked up after stepping out of your clothes and walked over. Climbing onto the bed, you kneeled next to his torso, raising a brow down at him.

“Ready for me?”

An audible gulp came from your friend before he nodded quickly. With a sigh, you eased, “I’m not gonna suffocate you. Relax.”

The reminder seemed to lessen his nerves as he laid back again, giving you a jerk of his chin. The invitation prompted you to straddle his chest and keep an eye on his facial expression, only to catch him staring between your legs.

“What?”

Seokmin’s cheeks reddened before he shook his head quickly. “N-Nothing. So how does this go?”

“Literally just eat me out like you would with any other girl. But throw your nose into the mix.”

“Like, nudge you with it?”

“Mhm. Just follow your instincts, there’s not much wrong you can do with it.”

The man underneath you nodded before taking in a deep breath. As soon as he motioned you to scoot up with his eyes, you moved forward to hover over his lips. Trusting your core to keep you balanced, you let out your own held breath.

“Ready whenever you are.”

Seokmin gave a thumbs up, waiting until you lowered down so your folds were a whisper away from his mouth. He leaned up to brush his lips against them, the light touch making your spine straighten. It felt as if he was testing the waters, wanting to see just how sensitive you were. But he didn’t wait long to up the pressure, pulling the quietest of gasps out.

“Better?”

You would’ve giggled at the way his voice came out somewhat muffled if it wasn’t for the warmth starting to build in your gut.

“Yeah. Just do what you usually do, ‘Min.”

“Let me know if I have to switch it up.”

He returned to work, bringing his tongue into the mix to trace up and down. A louder noise came from your mouth at the thorough sensation, eyes fluttering. The question of whether Lee Seokmin was good at oral never crossed your mind, but now the answer was going to remain cemented in there.

Especially when the appendage sunk in between to run up and down your entrance.

“Oh shit—”

You were too distracted to see Seokmin’s eyes crinkle at your low moan, continuing the action to be rewarded with more. But after a while of this, you remembered the main reason why this was even happening in the first place. Swallowing a sound, you croaked out, “Seokmin.”

“Mm?”

“Your nose—”

The reminder had him make what you imagined was a noise of realization. And just like you wanted, the end of something soft yet sharp nudged your swollen clit.

“Ah— There you go.”

You gave encouragement, hoping it would push your friend to use his God-given gift to the fullest. It took some time, but Seokmin nuzzled the bud harder while simultaneously working his tongue below. Your warmth expanded into a tingling heat that traveled up and down your spine and into your fingers and toes, soft pants beginning to fall from your agape mouth.

You weren’t sure how long he had been at it, but you began to feel the telltale signs of a climax approaching. Not wanting to throw him off his game, you bit your tongue and allowed yourself to continue enjoying this experience of Seokmin learning the benefits of having a perfectly sculpted nose.

As the throes of ecstasy began to wash over your body, you hoped that he would carry this lesson through the rest of his life to treat any lucky girl.

Panting softly as you came down, the attention between your legs paused for a bit. But just as you were about to climb off and congratulate your friend for a job well done, the motions started up again, forcing you to gasp in sensitivity.

“’Min, what are you—”

A harsh bump to your still throbbing clit interrupted your query and a poke to your twitching cunt silenced you completely. All you could do was sit above Seokmin in utter shock as he continued to please you with his mouth.

Your complete surprise melted the further he went, brain shutting down to simply enjoy what he was giving you. At one point, you felt vibrations and started to hear something akin to mumbling from between your legs.

“Huh?”

The vibrations went on, but you still couldn’t make out what was being said.

“Seokmin, I can’t hear you, stop for a second.”

What might have been a groan sounded against your slick folds before Seokmin pulled back to husk out, “Sit on my tongue.”

Your mouth dropped, stunned at the request and the way he stuck out said muscle between his slick-coated lips.

But your hips went on autopilot and moved forward to grant him his wish. As soon as you sat down, the desire to use his tongue as a grinding pad came over. It seemed to be a wise choice as you could feel the strongest vibration so far against your pussy.

Seokmin surprised you again when one of his hands moved from the bed to rest on your waist before sliding over and up your torso. It seemed to be on autopilot as it aimed to touch your covered breast, only stopping short just as his fingertips were about to brush the bottom curve. Clicking your tongue at his unwanted hesitation, you covered his palm with your own and brought it to its intended destination.

“Don’t hold back.”

As soon as you let go, Seokmin took your command and ran to the bank with it. Long fingers groped and massaged at the mound, making your back arch in enjoyment. Enjoyment that pushed you higher and higher to another precipice, faster than before. While you trembled above your friend, you couldn’t believe that he kept this up. You figured that once would be enough to prove your point, but he just would not stop.

He continued even after you came for the second time, giving everything he had. You could feel yourself hurtling towards a third orgasm as Seokmin wouldn’t let you be. But when the tip of his nose felt too pointy and the flat of his tongue too rough for your sensitive folds, you decided to put an end to the experience.

“S-Stop—“

Pointless. He just kept going.

Stifling a whimper of discomfort, you were forced to reach down and pull at his dark brown locks.

“Christ, Seokmin, stop!”

Finally, your prayers were heard. Seokmin winced at your tug and removed his mouth from you to gape incredulously.

“Yah, why’d you stop me?”

You ignored the unusually titillating rasp of his voice to scowl down.

“I think you proved my point…too many times!”

Your emphasis was supported with a flick to his wet nose.

“You trying to kill me?!”

“No! I just got caught up in the moment! I’m sorry.”

The genuine remorse in his explanation made you relax a bit, soothing his scalp with a gentle ruffle of his hair.

“It’s alright, ‘Min. You did good…too good.”

As expected, Seokmin’s smile outshone the sun itself, thanks to your praise.

“Thank you, Y/N.”

Returning the grin, you realized that you should give your friend some breathing room and climbed off to lay next to him, a tingle still present in your toes.

“So what have we learned today?”

Seokmin puckered his lips as he looked up in thought.

“I learned that my nose is big, but there’s nothing wrong with it.”

“Uh huh.”

“Um…that I can use it when I’m eating someone out.”

Your lips tilted.

“Go on.”

A melodic hum came as he continued to rack his brain.

“Mm…oh! How could I forget the most important one?”

You watched as his head turned to fixate you with a sweet grin.

“If I’m ever feeling insecure about anything, I can come to you for help.”

His answer made you smile wide, heart warming at how at ease he seemed to be now. Granted, you never expected to sit on his face, but if it made him feel better, you’d do it a hundred times over.

“Anything for you, ‘Min.”

©bangtanintotheroom, 2024. Crossposted to AO3. Do not repost to other sites or copy without permission.

[fandomgirlz01]

You Matter Most  Pt. 1

Evan “Buck” Buckley X Reader

Imagine on my fandom Instagram?: No  

Prompt or Request or Requested Prompt?: No

Style of Writing: Small Series

Edited: Yes

Word count: 5,677 

Ko-fi

Masterlist

Warnings here

You can listen to the story be read out loud here.

Post Date & Time: August 24th 2023 at 10:41 PM

Summary: {Based off of S6 E18 Pay it Forward} When a series of freeway accidents lead to a big catastrophe, Buck must worry for his team as he rushes to help them all before it only leads to  an even bigger disaster. All while working on helping his team he worries mostly for his best friend who’s unconscious for most of it. 

Third Person Pov:

“May-day! May-day! Air ambulance two reporting a collapse at the 710 interchange. Firefighters down. Repeat, firefighters down!” A voice comes through Maddie’s coms, making her quickly answer the distress call. 

“Air ambulance two, this is dispatch. Can you reroute to assist?” Maddie asks before pausing, waiting to get an answer. 

“Negative. We have a priority spinal transfer,” the voice solemnly tells her. 

“Do you have a visual on how many firefighters are down?” Maddie asks and there’s a long pause as she waits for the information. 

“All of them— the entire 118. They were on the upper span when it collapsed. They all went down,” the voice tells her in a very worried tone and Maddie’s heart drops. 

Her mind immediately goes to thoughts of her fiancé, brother, and sister-like friend, worried for all three. Her heart beats wildly and suddenly she can hear it in her ears as she types up details on her computer. Tears cloud her eyes for a moment and she tries to will herself not to cry just yet. 

Y/n’s Pov:

I groan as my alarm goes off and roll over onto my back to look at the ceiling. It takes me a few minutes, but soon I’m reaching over to my phone and turning it off. With one last sigh, I push myself up from my bed and start to get ready for the long shift I have to work. 

Once I’m ready, I grab my backpack as well as my morning hot cocoa and keys. I quickly make my way out into the hallway of the complex and lock my door. Just as I lock the bottom lock, I hear Buck’s door open and shut. 

I turn to him and let out a giggle when I see the pure exhaustion on his face. He locks up his door before turning when I giggle and he smiles. 

“You must have had a lousy night, E. You really look exhausted,” I say, using the nickname I’ve had for him forever with humor laced in my tone. 

“Ugh, not exhaustion. More annoyance at the two idiots that won’t make up,” he replies with a roll of his eyes before we both start walking out. 

“I’m sure they’ll make up soon, bubs. Just give it a little more time,” I try to reassure him and he hums, shaking his head at me. 

“Sure. Then maybe I won’t have to deal with Kamron needing me 24/7. Or the smell of pickles. She keeps needing me to open them. Never did I think I’d hate pickles,” he rants with a roll of his eyes and I giggle again. 

“You definitely won’t and I’m sure you’ll like pickles again soon,” I joke with him as I playfully hit my arm against his. 

“Anyway, wanna carpool to work today?” he questions me, now changing the subject. 

“Sure, why not. Anything to hang out with you a little more,” I joke as I bump my arm into his again and he shakes his head, chuckling. 

“As if we don’t already hang out everyday,” he playfully scoffs and I shrug. 

“No, we definitely don’t,” I playfully deny and he chuckles, shaking his head. 

“Ok, dork. Let’s go. Bobby will kill us if we’re late. Again,” he remarks and I giggle. 

“You got that right,” I agree with him as I roll my eyes while we walk out to his car. 

“Breakfast on the way?” he asks and I smirk. 

“You buying?” I ask him with a raised eyebrow and he groans. 

“I wouldn’t have offered if I wasn’t,” he playfully growls out like he’s angry when I know he indeed isn’t. 

“Then hell yeah. I'm hungry,” I tell him and he groans. 

“Don’t be like Kameron now,” he says as he rolls his eyes and I laugh. 

“What, pregnant? E, I don’t know if you know how that works, but I kinda need to have some relations before that, and you know I’m not seeing anyone right now…” I playfully tell him and he shakes his head. 

“Of course I know how that works? You know I didn’t mean that. I mean, I was a sex addict, remember?” he asks and I giggle, letting my eyes go wide jokingly. 

“Oh I vividly remember, Mr. Do it on the rooftop of the firehouse. Dumbass,” I joke as I smack his arm and he rubs it. 

“Well, what would you have done?!” he fights back and I laugh. 

“Not on the rooftop, that’s for sure,” I joke back and he rolls his eyes. 

“Whatever. Let’s just get the food and get to work,” he tells me and I giggle. 

“Awe, E, I’m just messing with you!” I inform him and he shakes his head. 

“Yeah, yeah. Let’s go, you Gremlin,” he tells me and I giggle, smiling softly at the use of my nickname Buck had given me when we were younger before we split up to get into his Jeep.

“Okay, 118, let’s gather ‘round and settle in. We have some outstanding tasks from our last shift and I’ve got an important announcement about our upcoming weather conditions,” Bobby announces, making me and Buck, who's up on the truck, sit down with our legs hanging off the side. 

“So cute, huh? Oh, wait. I promised her I’d wear it all day. Take a picture so we can…” Chimney talks with one of the other firefighters as they walk out of the locker room. 

“Firefighter Han,” Bobby calls out, cutting Chim off and making him look up from the play ring on his finger. 

“I was gonna save this until the end, but why not make it the first order of business? Congratulations on popping the question,” Bobby announces as he uses his clipboard to point at Howard. 

“Yeah, Chim! Whoo, whoo!” I shout out as everyone else claps while I shake Buck. 

“Ok… ok… a little less shaking, there,” Buck comments as he pushes me lightly, making me giggle softly. 

“Didn’t she do the proposing?” I quietly whisper to Buck, who chortles and nods. 

“She finally made an honest man out of him!” Ravi shouts as he grabs Chimney by the shoulder and shakes him lightly. 

“All right, everybody. Let’s settle down. We still have to get to the weather update,” Bobby calls out and all the laughs die down. 

“All right, apparatus maintenance. Firefighter Diaz will be running point this morning on engine service. We’ll be doing an oil change and a brake fluid change,” Bobby explains as I yawn lightly and lay my head on Buck’s shoulder. 

“Tired?” Buck quietly questions me and I hum at him. 

“Didn’t sleep too well last night. Tossed and turned all night. Don’t know why, just had a weird feeling,” I whisper back to him and he smiles softly before wrapping his arm around my shoulder. 

“Hmm, comfy,” I mummer out as I cuddle in closer and he chuckles softly. 

“Eddie?” Bobby calls out, making us all listen in. “Yeah, cap?” Eddie asks nonchalantly as he looks at his phone. 

“Did Eddie finally find someone?” I quietly question Buck, who shrugs. 

“He didn’t say anything to me if he did,” Buck informs me and I sigh. 

“Then why’s he staring at his phone like a lovesick puppy?” I query and Buck gives a small ‘huh,’ before shrugging. 

“I guess maybe he did. He’ll tell us when he’s ready,” Buck comments to me and I cross my arms. 

“I wanna know now. We’re the three musketeers. Two musketeers can’t just be left in the dust by the other,” I whisper as I cross my arms, pouting and Buck chuckles. 

“You and that impatient ass of yours,” Buck comments and I give him a playful smirk. 

“And you like this ass of mine,” I joke with him, wiggling my eyebrows at him and he shakes his head. 

“Can’t say I don’t,” he plays right back and I giggle before we both turn back to listen in. 

“Apparatus maintenance,” Bobby pointedly comments as Eddie moves into a different sitting position while closing his phone. 

“I’m on it, Cap,” Eddie promises and Bobby nods as Buck’s phone vibrates. 

He quickly silences his phone, but it vibrates again and again. He groans quietly and presses the answer button. 

“Okay. All right, now for the weather update,” Bobby starts as Buck puts the phone up to his ear. 

“Uh, hey, listen, I-I can’t… I can’t talk right now. No, I can’t. Kameron, I don’t know why he’s calling you. Maybe if you answer the phone you’ll find…” Buck talks into the phone and I smirk as Bobby turns around. 

Booby walks over to us on the truck and looks up at us. He gives me an irritated questioning look and I just shrug, making him look at Buck, who trails off. 

“You're in trouble…” I jokingly mutter out as I try to hold in my giggles while poking his side lightly. 

“Umm, I got to go,” Buck tells her and I hold back a giggle at his ‘oops’ tone before hanging the phone up. 

“Uh- s-sor… sorry, Cap. Um…” Buck stutters out his apology, but Bobby just ignores him and turns back around. 

“Alright, folks, listen up,” Bobby again tries to get to the point. 

“Uh, Cap?” Ravi questions, holding his hand up and Bobby gives him an unamused look that tells him to go on. 

“Can I just say, if Buck needs to get the pregnant lady out of his apartment,” Ravi starts and Buck hops down off the truck before turning to me to help me down real quick. 

“I do have a two-bedroom that’s about to be on the market, so…” Ravi finishes as Buck and I walk towards him. 

“Thank you, Ravi! Maybe a discussion for another time,” Bobby humorously chides as everyone laughs a little bit. 

“118, it’s time to dial it in,” Bobby starts to try and corral us in again. 

“We have a Job to do, but in order to do that job, you have to be here. I need precision, I need focus, but most of all, I need you to be present,” Bobby pointedly announces as Hen cautiously walks in and around him to take a seat. 

“Sorry I’m late, Cap,” Hen quickly apologizes as she sighs. 

“Okay! Let’s get cracking,” Bobby finishes before starting to walk off. 

“Hey, wait. What’s the important weather update?” Chimney asks as Bobby walks past him. 

“There’s a moderate marine layer,” Bobby answers, unamused as he continues to walk away. 

“I’ll see you for lunch?” Buck questions and I nod in confirmation. 

“Yeah. That is, if we don’t get a call before then,” I promise him with a small smile. 

“Don’t jinx it,” Buck jokes, pointing at me with a chuckle. 

“Ok. I’ll see you in a-” I start, but the alarm sounds and Buck groans. 

“You jinxed it!” he shouts, throwing his hands up and I giggle. 

“My bad…” I reply with a shrug and he shakes his head. 

“Come on, dork. Let’s get into our gear,” Buck tells me with a grin. 

We both rush over to our lockers and start to put our gear on before running over to the truck. Buck hops in on the left side as I hop in on the right and we get into our seats as Bobby starts to pull out of the garage. Bobby drives throughout town before coming up to the scene on the bridge. Once the engine comes to a stop, we all quickly pile out and get to work. 

“Hen, Chem. Check the driver of this camper van,” Bobby orders as he points to the van. 

“Buck, y/n Eddie, Ravi, I want you guys to check these surrounding vehicles for injuries. Let’s go,” Bobby commands and we all give him a nod before rushing off. 

Buck, Ravi and I walk around, making sure there's no more injuries. Once we deem there are none, we walk back over to help. We stand back as Chimney and Hen communicate with the girl inside. 

“Cap, second victim in the back. She didn’t have her seatbelt on when the accident happened!” Chimney shouts as he looks around the side of the van. 

“Okay, these back doors are obliterated. I want you guys to pull that windshield,” Bobby commands, making Hen and Chimney nod.  

I quickly rush back to the engine and pull out the windshield suction cups as Ravi grabs the pry bars. Once I have them, I rush back to the van with Ravi in tow. I hand the suction cups to Hen as Ravi gives the pry bars to Buck and Eddie. Hen quickly places the suction cups on the windshield and pulls as Buck and Eddie use the pry bars. Once it comes off, Hen quickly passes the windshield to Buck, who takes it and sets it aside. 

“All right. What’s your name?” Hen asks the frightened girl softly. 

“Jo,” the girl cries out her reply. 

“Jo. Can-can you move?” Hen questions the girl and she looks down at her leg. 

“Um, I don’t know. It’s my leg. I think it’s broken. Um, please help her!” Jo cries out again as she looks up at Hen and Chimney with tears cascading down her face. 

“I'm on it, Jo, but I need to get back there, so we’re gonna pull you out. You might feel a little pain, okay?” Chimney calmly explains to her and he moves aside for Hen to get in a bit more. 

“Buck, can you carry her to the ambulance?” Chimney queries and Buck nods, moving behind Hen and getting ready to grab her. 

“Okay! Ahhh!” Jo agrees before screaming out in pain as they move her. She cries as they pull her out of the vehicle. 

Buck quickly lifts her up and carries her over to the back of the ambulance as Chimney moves into the van. Hen quickly stands up and pushes me along with Buck. 

“Go help him look her over. You have more medical training then he does. I’ll stay with Chim,” she commands me and I nod before rushing off behind Buck. 

I quickly help Buck get her down on the floor so I can look over her leg. In one fast fluid motion, I pull out a tourniquet-like brace and start putting it on her leg along with Bobby’s help as they wheel a gurney over. 

“Cap. We’re going to need an air ambulance. Patient is unresponsive, breathing is weak and she’s lost bladder control. Could be a spinal,” Chimney explains over the radio as we continue to work on Jo. 

“Copy that,” Bobby replies as we start to prepare Jo to get her on the gurney. 

“Spinal injury? Is she okay?” Jo asks me in fear and I look at her. 

“We won’t know until we get her to the hospital,” I inform her as they bring the gurney closer, now ready to get her up onto it. 

“Please, please don’t take me now because I need to see her,” she begs as she grips my hand and I pause as Hen walks up. 

“Hey, hey. You’ll be able to before they airlift her. I promise, okay?” Buck promises her before Hen or I can say anything. 

Eddie walks past us with the backboard, headed towards Chimney and we quickly move Jo onto the gurney. Jo keeps a grip on my hand and I squeeze hers before letting go. 

“Don’t worry. You know the firefighter that told you you’d see her?” I ask her and she nods in understanding. 

“That’s my best friend. I know when he promises something, he keeps it. You’ll see her just like he said,” I promise her softly and she gives me a small thankful smile as she seems only slightly less freaked out. 

“My name's y/n. I’ll stay here till your mom’s out, okay?” I tell her and she smiles a thankful smile at me again.

“She’s not my mom. She’s my mom’s best friend. My, uhh, mom passed away three years ago. Mallory was insistent we take this trip as an honor to my mother…” Jo explains to me and I smile softly at her. 

“I’m sorry to hear about your mom. You're very lucky to have Mallory. That sounds like a lovely plan. I’m sure you two can pick up when everyone is okay again,” I try to comfort her to the best of my ability and she shakes her head. 

“No. I think we’ll find a different way of traveling,” Jo informs me and I nod. 

“I would probably do that too. Nothing wrong with that,” I agree with her and she nods in agreement. 

We wait maybe a few more minutes until we see Chimney come out first. Then Eddie pushes Mallory out and together they lift her backboard onto another gurney that was taken over to them. They then start to roll her over and I move over next to Hen so they can roll her next to Jo. 

“She’s right up here,” I hear Chimney inform Mallory as they get closer. 

“Okay, she’s right up here,” he repeats himself as they get closer. 

“Mallory!” Jo shouts when they get closer before coming to a stop right next to her. 

“I’m so sorry,” Jo apologizes as they both reach out to hold hands. 

“I can’t lose you, too,” Jo continues on the verge of tears and I feel tears well up in my eyes. 

“I’m not going anywhere. We still have a lot of ground to cover, okay?” Mallory asks her as she squeezes her hand. 

“Next time, we’ll take the train,” Jo insists quickly as the others start to load her in the back of the ambulance as air support flies overhead. 

“Air support. You are clear to land,” Bobby gives the okay through his walkie and soon the helicopter is landing. 

Eddie and Chim start to walk her over to the helicopter and I let out a puff of air as my emotions take over. I take my jacket off in hopes a little air is all I need. I quickly try to sober up so I don’t start sobbing before I feel a hand on my back, making me turn to see Buck next to me. 

“Hey. You doing okay? You’re getting fidgety,” he queries with a raised eyebrow and I shake my head before nodding. 

“Yeah. No. I’m fine. Just had a flashback to my sister, that’s all,” I inform him and he nods solemnly at me. 

“I know. She’s watching over you. You know that,” he solemnly tells me, trying to comfort me as he rubs at my back and I nod, sniffling. 

“Thanks for checking on me,” I say in gratitude and I only hope Buck knows just how much I’m thankful for him. 

“Always, you know that we stick together, right?” he asks me and I smile. 

“Right. Stuck together like glue,” I reply to our life long promise we always tell each other and he smiles, nodding. 

“Okay. I’m gonna go help Chim. We’ll talk more about this later, okay?” he questions me and I nod. 

“Yeah. Go. Go. Do our job,” I agree with a soft smile and he nods before rushing off. 

“Possible spinal! She’s coming over now!” I hear him yell to the air tech that gets out of the helicopter.

“Can’t get rid of me, can you, Buckley?” I hear her voice and I immediately recognize Lucy. Red hot jealousy flares up in me, but I push it away. 

“Great to see you again, for real this time!” I hear Buck shout back as he stops to point at her and I huff, rolling my eyes. 

He turns and walks back towards me, but only frowns as I brush him off. I walk over to Bobby just as Eddie walks up. 

“Hey, Cap, think there’s a propane stove in the van. I’m gonna go check it out,” Eddie explains to him as he walks up to us. 

“Good thinking, Eddie. Y/n, go with him,” Bobby commands me and I nod. 

“Actually Bobby, can I have a quick moment with her?” Buck asks and Bobby shakes his head. 

“I guess. One minute, then back to work. Got it?” Bobby asks and Buck nods. 

“No, yeah, I promise,” Buck informs him and Bobby nods before walking off. 

“Hey, what’s up. Why are you giving the cold shoulder?” Buck asks as he looks at me. 

“It’s nothing, Buck, really. Go back to work,” I play it off and he sighs in frustration. 

“Y/n, I thought we talked about closing up? Talk to me, you know you can,” Buck begs me and I shake my head. 

“Buck. Nothing is wrong, it’s just a hard case. I told you I’d talk with you about it later,” I deflect away from what’s going on. 

“No. I know—” he starts, but gets cut off as the bridge suddenly starts to shake as it cracks down the middle, making both me and Buck fall to the ground with me on top of him. 

There’s more shaking and creaking as the bridge slowly starts to collapse. Buck looks up and suddenly he’s rushing to get up, pulling me with him. 

“Hey. Hey, hey, hey, hey! Let’s move!” Buck yells out as the ambulance comes flying back at us and Buck quickly moves both of us out of the way just in time. 

“Hey!” he continues to shout as the ambulance rushes past us, quickly crashing at an angle. 

Buck quickly maneuvers, but somehow he gets pulled down with the ambulance, making me go with him. He smashes into the ambulance’s windshield and it cracks. 

“Buck!” I yell out as I fly past him, but he doesn’t reply. 

I let out another scream as I come to a landing on a slab of concrete, hitting my head in the process. Pain surges through my side, but I don’t notice it for long as suddenly everything goes black. 

Buck’s Pov: 

I groan as I come to, still laying on the windshield that’s now cracked from me smashing into it. There's a quiet, eerie, metallic creak and it takes me a moment to realize where I am. When I do, I take a moment to push myself up on all fours. I look around in fear for y/n, but there’s no sign of her, so I look into the ambulance next. 

“Hen!” I yell out as I see my friend still strapped into the driver's seat of the ambulance, now unconscious. 

“H-hen, can you hear—” I ask her as I bang on the window. 

“118, report in. I need a headcount,” I talk into my radio, hoping to get any answers. 

“I’m grabbing the ropes,” Ravi radios back first as I look around, trying to assess where everyone could be. 

“I’m in the van. Pretty sure I broke a couple ribs, but this van is about to get pancaked,” Eddie groans out as he radios in and I keep looking around with no sight of y/n. 

“Okay. Eddie, uh. We’re coming to you,” I inform him before taking a pause. 

“Han. What is your status?” I ask into my radio before letting go to get his status. 

“Han, come in,” I practically beg over the radios when he doesn’t answer. 

“Han…” I question again and wait a moment. 

“Han here,” Chimney finally radios in and I throw my head back in relief. 

“Captain Nash, firefighter Maysen, still haven’t heard from either of you. What is your status?” I ask into the radio again, only hoping to get something but nothing comes. 

“Bobby, y/n. Come in,” I repeat through the radio again, but still silence. 

“I see firefighter Maysen! She’s on a slab near you, maybe twenty feet away, just covered by some rubble,” Ravi explains to me through the radio and I sigh in relief. 

“Is she under it?” I question and wait for a moment. 

“No. She’s just close enough to be hidden. She’s out, though, and there’s one other thing…” he voices again though the radio before trailing off. 

“What? Is she okay?” I question him and he takes another pause, making me wait with bated breath. 

“She’s been impaled by a piece of rebar, Buck… right though the side of her stomach. I- if we don’t get to her soon, she might bleed out,” he breaks it to me easily and I sigh, putting my head down for a moment. 

“I’ll get to her as soon as I get Hen and the others out,” I inform him as I make the hard decision to wait, even though I want to rush over to her first and get her out. 

“Ok… only if you're sure. You're acting captain right now,” he informs and I let out a huff before pressing the button on my radio to reply. 

“Yeah, I know. So everyone’s safety is on me right now. Luckily if I can get Hen awake, she can take over. Let’s get to work,” I command before letting the button go, letting out a sigh, and looking down at Hen again. 

“Hen. I’m- I’m coming to you. Just stay right there,” I tell my unconscious friend before I move off the windshield and down the side of the ambulance. 

Very slowly, I make my way to the window and try to shove myself though it. The ambulance starts to tremble as I do, but I keep going. 

“Hen?” I call out to her as I pause for a moment. 

“Chim. Chim! Chim, you back there?” I shout out as I finally slide though the window of the ambulance. 

“I’m alive, but not great,” Chimney calls out in a winded tone. 

“Okay,” I pant out as I move over to Hen. 

“Come on. Hey,” I voice as I try to get Hen to wake up. 

“What happened?” Hen questions as she looks around, confused. 

“Bridge collapsed,” I inform her and her head starts to fall back. 

“Hey, hey, hey. Hen, you with me?” I question her and she squints at me. 

“I’m good. Thank you,” she conveys to me as she starts to reach towards me. 

“You okay?” she asks as she wipes at the side of my forehead. 

“Yeah. Oh. Uh… I mean, physically, yeah,” I tell her, my emotions betraying me ever so slightly as I feel a lump form in my throat. 

“Where is everybody?” she asks me as she continues to clean my face. 

“R-Ravi is up top. Eddie’s in the van. Chimney’s in the back. He needs our help. I’m gonna go up top. Get the ambulance secure. Then we get you out, okay?” I explain to her before asking if she understands. She slowly nods before letting her head fall back a bit. 

“Okay. Where’s Cap? Where’s Bobby? A-and y/n…” she suddenly asks as she quickly lifts her head straight. 

“He’s MIA, and y/n…” I pause and take a deep breath. 

“She’s currently bleeding out maybe twenty feet from us,” I inform her and she just stares at me. 

“You, uhh… y-you’re sure you’re good?” I ask her one last time just to make sure. 

“Yeah. I… I’m-I’m good,” she stumbles out in her shock and pain. 

“Just get some rope so we can get out of here,” she commands me and I nod before starting to try climbing out. 

“Okay, Ravi, I need a line,” I grunt as I call out while climbing out of the window. 

I get about halfway out the window when Ravi throws the rope down to me and I slowly finish pulling myself out. I hold onto the ambulance as I grab the rope before using it to climb back to the front. Once around the front, I continue to climb up the side until I can pull myself up to the top. Ravi hands me a part of the rope and I quickly slide under the engine, tying the rope to the underside of it. I quickly rush back to the side and let out a puff of air when I see what Ravi had seen before. 

The van is under the ambulance and both are close to falling. I let out another breath and close my eyes when I see y/n. She is indeed impaled and blood pools around her as she lays unconscious. 

“Buck, we’ll get to her,” Ravi promises as he puts a hand on my shoulder. 

“Yeah. I know. I’m not letting her go out like this. Not yet. It’s too early and there’s a lot that needs to be said,” I inform as I promise myself in my head that if we make it out, I’ll tell her how I really feel. 

“And it will be said,” he agrees with a head nod before going back over to the truck. 

“Please tell me you made it, Cap,” I whisper to myself as I look out over the scene again. 

“Okay, Ravi. Let’s go!” I shout to him as I turn around, ready to scale the concrete. 

“118, LAPD on scene at the lower level and here to assist,” Athena’s voice comes over the radio just as I hop over, ready to scale down to Hen. 

“118? Captain?” she asks in a scared tone when she gets no response from her husband. 

“Hen! That’s you!” I yell out to her, leaning back a bit. 

“LAPD, this is Wilson. Captain Nash is unaccounted for, we also have one impaled and unconscious. I’m in command. Anything you can do to help survivors on the ground level would be appreciated, ” Hen replies over the radio as I start to quickly scale down with a harness bag. 

“Copy that!” Athena quickly replies again over the radio. 

Once I get down to the ambulance, I set the bag on it and I get closer to the front of it. I quickly tie the rope to the car and pull on it ever so slightly. 

“Hey, Ravi, tension!” I call out to him and I wait a moment before leaning against the ambulance. 

I bounce on it a couple times to see how stable it is and smile when it comes out very stable. I quickly climb back to the top of the ambulance and pull the harness bag in front of me. 

“Okay. Hen, you got a harness and capture strap. Take Chimney and the patient, you send them down,” I explain to her as I throw the strap and harness in the window to her. 

“I’m headed to the van. Then I’ll get y/n. I’ll see you at the bottom,” I inform her of my plan before getting off the ambulance and heading to Eddie. 

It takes me a few minutes, but soon I make it to the van. I come to a stop next to it as Ravi looks over the side. 

“Sending down the saw!” he shouts to me before dropping me the saw bag. 

“Okay, Eddie, you in there?” I ask as I pause and listen in and he gives me a small ‘Yup’ through his groans of pain. 

“Let me get these doors open. Just shield your eyes,” I inform him before I pull the saw from the bag along with the protective glasses and start to saw at the door. 

I work for a few minutes at the door before soon I can start to pull at them. I pull one open and groan as I pause, taking the glasses off to look in at Eddie, who’s trapped under the fridge looking up at me. 

“Hey,” I pant out as I hold onto the door. 

“Any sign of Cap?” he huffs out as he struggles to breathe and I shake my head. 

“How’s y/n?” he asks and I sigh. 

“Currently, she’s bleeding out. I’m getting her next,” I inform him and he nods. 

“Sorry about this,” I apologize as I move closer to him and grab his arms. 

“Yeah. It’s gonna suck,” he comments before I pull on him. 

I pull him out and he yells out in pain as I do. Soon I’m pulling him out of the van all together and he grits his teeth. 

“Okay, I got you,” I comment as I pull him out and quickly we’re climbing down so he can get medical. 

Once he’s down standing on his own feet, some other paramedics come over to us. They get Jo first and Hen groans as she leans over before puking. 

“Hen!” Eddie yells out as we watch her double over. 

“Hey,” Eddie tells me before we both rush over to Hen, who lays flat on top of the truck she’s on. 

“I’m okay. I’m okay. I’m okay,” she groans, waving us off. 

“I’m okay. I’m pretty sure I’m just concussed,” she explains as she sits up and moves her helmet. 

“We got to get Chimney and y/n! We got to get Chimney and y/n!” she suddenly yells out as she looks back up. 

“No. Hey, hey, hey. We’ll get Chimney and y/n. Let’s get you down. Come on,” we both try to stop her as she groans. 

“Come on down. I promise I’ll get him and y/n,” I inform her as we all reach out for her. 

“We got you. We got you. Come on. No rush,” I rant as she finally starts to try and crawl down. 

“Okay. Come on. Let’s go. Let’s go. Let’s go,” Eddie chants as he wraps her arm around his shoulder while she pants out of breath. 

“Eddie, you got her, yeah?” I ask and he nods, giving me a small ‘hmm’ as they continue to walk. 

“Okay. I’m going back for Chim and y/n. I’ll be back,” I promise and he nods. 

Just before I turn, there’s another loud, metallic creaking noise and we all turn around. My eyes widen as the ambulance starts to shake around and the van starts to look like it’ll fall any second. 

To Be Continued…

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[marypaol]

My Hurting Heart

Aang x Fem!Reader

Summary: Before the team faces the Fire Lord before the eclipse, Reader sees Katara and Aang kiss.

Warnings: Self doubt, negative mindset, loads of angst, crying, kissing, mention of war, mention of loosing someone, mention of death, I think that’s all :)

Note: This is new!! I normally write for Draco, but I had to write this story I came up with because I love the show.

Reader is nicknamed “Flower” so no use of Y/N

Masterlist

Request Requirements

@roseeyyyiee I saw a post of yours wanting Aang x Reader :)

Katara’s hair was in her face. Now, it wasn’t something that the girl didn’t necessarily dislike; it smelled like salt water and her father’s leather uniform from carrying him earlier, but the way it tickled her nose was something she didn’t exactly enjoy. On the contrary, she did kinda like the fact that Aang’s nose was brushing the skin of her shoulder, his breathing fanning her neck as the team embraced for what they feared would be the last time.

Doubt crowded their hearts and minds, the hands of anticipation squeezed their throats until they couldn’t breathe.

Who knows what would happen after they broke apart. Would Sokka’s invention idea suddenly go downhill? Would Katara get hurt on Appa, and would be unable to water bend? Or wound Toph get stuck in a bunch of rocks she couldn’t control? Or worse, the girl thought, would she loose Aang?

The last thought lingered as so did their touch as the group separated.

Hakoda emerged from the submarine, his hair breezing at his cheeks.

He announced everyone back in, and the group followed his orders, the girl thinking Aang and Katara followed them.

She thought she heard their soft footsteps, or rough feet of Katara running to ride Appa. Or the snap of Aang’s glider as he prepared to go the Fire Lord.

But sometimes even her mind played tricks on her, and the things she thought she heard didn’t occur.

None of them did.

“Hey, flower, go check on Katara, she needs to fly on Appa in order for us to move on.”

Sokka’s voice rang in her ears, her stomach twisting as she realized her friend wasn’t on the armed bison yet. Her feet hurt as she climbed the ladder to the hole, the sun almost blinding her as the darkness of the submarine flooded with light.

Her lips parted after her tongue escaped to lick them, vocal cords ready to call out Katara’s name.

Instead her mouth was opened more in surprise, doubt swarming her stomach, thick and hot.

She disturbed them just in time to see the back of Aang’s head close to Katara’s, a soft gasp escaping her when his lips pressed to hers.

He pulled back, hands going to his glider as it snapped open, the blue flags of fabric spreading out. The noise echoed in the girl’s ears as the boy took off, the air and him becoming one.

At that very moment, the girl couldn’t think of anything else as she watched Katara look off into the distance of the sky, most likely with flushed cheeks after the previous events.

The girl’s chest suddenly hurt with a sharp pain. No, not her chest, she thought, hand going up to squeeze the fabric of her shirt, her heart.

Her heart hurt. And she knew why.

She cleared her throat, her friend whipping around, expression flustered but cheeks back to normal color.

“Sokka told me to tell you to get going if we wanna move on.”

The girl’s voice hasn’t sounded any worse. Her throat was cloudy, imaginary hands gripping her vocal cords. What was heard was a soft hurting voice, almost inaudible.

But Katara heard it well and clear, her head nodding as her mind quickly focused on something else.

“Right, don’t worry I got it.” She said, running towards Appa.

The girl wasn’t so lucky, the picture of the two repeatedly playing in her mind.

She nodded back even though Katara was long gone, head dipping into the submarine as the cap closed loudly behind her.

She saw Sokka flinch from the noise. “Flower, why’d you let it slam!?”

He might of said something else but she didn’t get to hear it, hot tears not only clouding her vision but all her senses.

She didn’t know where to go so she went to where the water benders would be steering the submarines, since there wasn’t anyone in there at the moment.

There she curled up in the tightest ball she could, feeling like a child crying after their mom yelled at them.

She did feel yelled at, like the world finally yelled the fact that Aang would never love a girl like her. She was the alive and breathing opposite of Katara.

How could he like her? When she thought about herself she couldn’t think of one thing she liked. One thing Aang would like.

Because when he looked at her he just saw the girl who couldn’t bend anything, the girl who just was good at plans but most of the time they went with Sokka’s anyway.

Why was she even trying at that point. Trying to thrive in the group was hard enough, and trying for the Avatar to like her was like trying to get a pig to fly. Impossible.

So the girl stayed there, and later found a secret cabinet in the ship that she hid in while the water benders did their thing.

The tears were still flowing endlessly, her sobs only letting out when there was a loud noise to cover it up.

She couldn’t feel anymore alone.

Katara didn’t care about her.

She cared about showing the power of women and the Avatar saving the world.

Sokka didn’t care about her.

He cared about Suki and his sister.

Toph didn’t care about her.

She had other things to worry about, like her parents and her previous royal life.

And especially Aang. He didn’t love or care about her.

He loved Katara, and cared more about the water bender more than he could ever care about the girl crying in the submarine instead of fighting the Fire Nation.

He wanted someone who was brave and tough, someone Katara was and she wasn’t.

She sniffed loudly, and thankfully the water benders didn’t hear her but a small part of her wished they did.

At least then someone would show a speck of care she thrived for.

She wanted someone to care, to love her, but Aang wasn’t that person as she hoped he would be.

“Flower I feel you under there.”

She gasped at the voice, knowing all too well that it was Toph because of her feet being her eyes.

“Go away; aren’t you supposed to be helping the earth benders?”

Worry gripped the girl for a moment, scared that Toph and the team somehow failed and she came to tell her that the Avatar is dead for good this time.

Toph chuckled, sensing the girl’s worry with just her feet.

“Yeah, but I noticed you were gone…. Well Sokka did because I can’t see you. But I wanted to look for you.”

The girl wiped her eyes, thanking God that Toph couldn’t see her tears. And praying that she couldn’t sense them.

“There’s no use getting me- I’m no help to the team anyway.”

Toph blinked, seeming to be looking off into space but the girl knew she was listening.

“Yeah you are, flower, without you Twinkle Toes would still be a nervous wreck.”

The girl thought back when she assured Aang that he was ready for the Fire Lord, despite his nightmares saying otherwise. What she told him was true, every word about him being strong and brave and all the other things she told him.

“Katara would’ve said those things too.”

Toph shook her head, hair strands moving in front of her face.

“Not as good as you did.”

The simple sentence reassured her for a moment, but that didn’t change the fact that Aang didn’t feel the same way.

“Doesn’t matter!” She suddenly exclaimed. “Aang kissed Katara before he left so that means that he loves her, not me, so if anything I am useless and stupid because if he doesn’t love me than I don’t know what I am. What am I, Toph? I’m a nobody without him. Without him, I feel empty, and stupid, and lonely, and unhelpful and unloved, and-“

She was babbling on so much she didn’t notice the tears blurring her vision once again, her cheeks soaked from the liquid of doubt.

Toph reached out for the girl, grabbing her hands and held her once she found out where she was.

Toph shushed her sobs, rubbing her back as she placed her feet on the ground, so she could sense that if anyone was coming.

“It’s okay, Flower. Twinkle Toes will realize what he lost.”

The never ending tears soaked the earth bender’s clothes, but neither of them cared.

“He’ll never even notice. I was never his.” The girl whispered.

“Not true.” Toph said instantly. “And if his stupid brain doesn’t realize it I’ll make him.”

The girl let out a very small smile into her friend’s clothes.

Thanks for reading! 📖

[slvtforfiction]

Hii<3 I just wanna start off by saying that I love your fanfics so much, I have been waiting so long for someone to start writing for Johnnie Guilbert. I was just wondering if you could write some headcanons about Johnnie having a gf who’s in a “gothic-metal” band kinda. With some songs like Romance by Varials, She Was a Witch by 1782, I Don’t Wanna Be Me by Type O Negative, Enslaved by Diva Destruction. And the gf plays guitar and sings sometimes.😻

Have a great day bae, I can’t wait to read more of your work in the future🫶

Band!Reader Headcanons

☆ Thank you lovely!!!!

☆ Ofcourse I can,lots of love x

☆ Johnnie X Band!Reader

☆ Headcanons

☆ Fluff

☆ Hey guys! Before anything else I would ask you to request anything you want because I've lost a lot of motivation and it would really help! :D (Please look at pinned post to see if requests are open.)

☆ Creds to @cafekitsune for dividers :)

Masterlist | Pinned Post

☆ Johnnie loves coming to your rehearsals and hearing new music before anyone else.

☆ Thinks you look especially pretty when you’re singing/playing.

☆ Loves to hear snippets of your new music,he feels happy you can tell him about it.

☆ Loves to hear you going on rants about your music career.

☆ Loves to teach you new things or you teaching him new things since he also plays guitar.

☆ If you learnt guitar from him he’s jokingly cocky, (eg. “Yeah but guess who she learn guitar from?” Whilst laughing to himself and looking over at you.)

☆ Your music taste is reflected in your band and Johnnie has honestly picked up his music taste from you.

☆ If you’re singing Johnnie honestly just stares down at you,he thinks you’re angelic.

☆ Lives to go to your rehearsal and get those happy little hugs when you’ve nailed something you couldn’t previously do.

☆ He’s so encouraging and proud of you it’s unreal,will constantly brag about you as well.

☆ He sees you as a prize that he doesn’t know how he’s won.

☆ Sometimes doesn’t think he’s good enough for you but loves to get the kisses and cuddles to prove that you love him better than anyone else.

☆ Will cover some of your songs on his YouTube channel to show his support.

☆ You’ve definitely been in his music videos and he’s definitely been in yours.

☆ He definitely found it so interesting that you were in a band when you were talking/just beginning to date,and definitely asked a lot about it.

☆ If it’s special to you it’s special to him and vice versa,treats your band like his own little special interest

☆ Definitely plan’s surprise party’s for you when you’ve hit a milestone.

☆ Your band becomes his favourite and will listen to it religiously even though he’s literally dating you.

☆ Massively a golden retriever boyfriend and will love everything you put into your music.

☆ Always the first person to hear/stream your music.

☆ He’s definitely been to every concert/show and tour with vip.

☆ Would go to every one of your concerts/tours and if he has to miss it for whatever reason,he’s constantly checking twitter/instagram for updates on your shows.

[raven-at-the-writing-desk]

Hey Raven! Hope you're doing well, and I hope you had a great holiday, if you celebrate, that is.

I hate to clutter your ask box with something like this, and you don’t have to answer, you can just read this with an open mind, but I feel you're the only one I could go to with this without being straight-up attacked. It's also why I'm asking anonymously.

But, what's your stance on the whole war between the JP and EN versions of the game? I'm not asking you to pick a side or anything, I just wanna know your thoughts.

Obviously, I'm an EN player, and idk if you seen, but there's some hateful things out there about us, and honestly, it's hurtful and disheartening to every time I get up here. And it's always on this we as players can't control. Mainly the dialog translations and it's changes.

I've seen people calling us dumb and weak, saying we water down everything because we can't take it, etc. I've seen people saying we don't know how to really correctly and analyze characters and that we're not even playing the same game. They say we've ruined the game, the fandom, and that they wished it was never localized. I've also seen quite horrible things, but I don’t wanna repeat the things said, but yeah.

And the kicker is, it's only the JP side I've seen post this stuff. I've seen more hate come from that side more than anything, and of course not all, like you. You're my fave btw.

So yeah, thoughts?

Hello, hello! ^^ I’m not really a super big celebration person but I’m hunkering down for a cozy hibernation this winter ❄️ I hope everyone had/will have a good 2023 holiday season~

Before I provide my response to the question posed in this ask, I want to make sure we're all on the same page for this discussion first:

Please be advised that my perspective is coming from that of someone who started off playing JP in March 2020 and then picked up EN when it came out in January 2022. I have played on both servers since their initial launches.

When I refer to TWST JP and EN fans in this post, I am only referring to the English speaking fans (as in, English speaking fans who play JP and English speaking fans who play EN).

For the sake of simplicity, I will be disregarding “hybrid” fans (English speaking fans who play both JP and EN) as a separate category and will lump them in with “JP” fans (English speaking fans who play JP). This is because I assume most mixed fans started off with JP and then adopted EN later on.

I am not talking about ALL English-speaking JP and/or EN fans here; I am only talking about the ones Anon described in their ask.

As the Anon said, I ask that you go into this post with an open mind; do not assume that I will bash JP and/or EN, take sides, defend or condone toxic attitudes, or that this post exists just to “stir the pot”. That is not the purpose of my response. The purpose is to have a meaningful and constructive discussion about TWST’s fandom culture, particularly as it pertains to English-speaking fans. I hope that in talking about this, we can better understand “the other side” (however you may personally define that) and work toward making the fandom space more welcoming for all.

Please read the entire post and think about your own choice of words before commenting and/or sending in an ask about this topic, should you choose to.

To the Anon that submitted this ask and to anyone else that plays EN and may have had similar thoughts: I’m sorry to hear about the negative experiences you’ve had in the TWST fandom. I hope that this post brings you some peace of mind, if not at least some catharsis for what you may be feeling.

Firstly, it’s important to understand the mindset of both JP and EN fans. As such, I will delve into the background and the development of each side. It is NOT meant to justify either side, but rather to inform you on how each perspective originated and grew to what it is today.

The animosity and opposition to an official English version of TWST has been present for a while. An English version of TWST has always been contentious, even long before the localization was announced. Some wanted it to happen for accessibility reasons (as some people find it tedious to hunt for translations) or were supportive of the idea because it means a larger fanbase and thus more potential to make friends or to discuss the game. Others were more apprehensive of the quality of a localization (as much tends to be cut or censored to make the content more palatable) and/or claimed that expanding the fanbase in such a way would bring in more “bad apples”.

When EN first came out, it did, in fact, expand the fanbase. However, many were quick to notice the many (and I do mean many) errors and short sightings present in it: frequent spelling and grammar mistakes in the game and on official social media posts, inconsistent phrasing, incorrect translations, game-breaking glitches, frequent censorship, half-hearted promotions, etc. EN also became infamous for its absolutely brutal pacing of content in the early days, particularly related to the limited story event schedules (including back-to-back Halloween events). This, in combination with EN’s constant pushing of paid gems (which occurs far more frequently than in the JP server) has left a bad taste in JP fans’ mouths. To them, TWST EN did not make a good first impression and continued to misstep again and again. This is especially true of the many dialogue changes to make the TWST localization more “culturally appropriate” (which is the definition of what a localization is; there is a reason why TWST is not called a translation, which would be a more accurate/“faithful” or direct translation of the dialogue).

The claim that “EN fans are weak/can’t handle the real story” likely arises from how EN has removed or altered details which may offend western audiences. This includes things like the term “master”, the mention of Azul’s weight, Kalim’s “30-40” siblings, etc. These are conscious decisions made on the part of the game localizers to make TWST more broadly appealing and appropriate for a western audience, where such topics are contentious or considered taboo. This is adapting TWST to a new culture so that it can (in a dry business sense) perform well. However, I also want to mention that some cultural changes EN made do significantly alter the story/characters (such as Jamil no longer stating his family will be on the streets if they defy the Asims; in EN he only says his parents will be mad at him), particularly if you are viewing through an EN-only lens. Unfortunately 😔 as much as I can point the nuances of localization out, there will always be fans who still oppose any sort of censorship. This is also true of the anime and manga community in general, and this post isn’t large enough in scope to tackle those issues. I only mention this here to help you, the reader, better understand the changes from Disney/Aniplex.

A lot of the original negative feelings that were there before EN was announced were then confirmed by the official release, and this strengthened the dislike of EN on the part of JP fans. These JP fans may then become hostile toward EN fans who defend the localization (whether or not they have the context of TWST JP) because, in the eyes of the JP fans, the localization is not as good as it could be. Ultimately, it seems like their intense feelings stem from passion for what they love and not wishing to see it “desecrated” rather than an actual hatred of fellow fans. JP fans are upset because they fear EN fans are not getting the full scope of the characters and a story they enjoy, and they want others to appreciate those aspects of TWST as well.

Of course 💦 the fact is that EN fans are not responsible for the localization. But EN is there and that is what is the easiest and the most time efficient for English-speaking audiences, so most people will go with that rather than alternatives (ie hunting down fan translations). The issue is that some JP fans conflate simply consuming the localization as being bad or the “wrong” thing to do, and thus, by proxy, extend this frustration to EN fans themselves (especially those those are EN only and have zero prior knowledge of JP) and not just the product. Again, this is because they tend to see JP as the “full” version, without the changes or censorship present in EN. This inevitably leads to discrepancies in understanding between JP and EN, whether due to staggered release of new content or how the characters are presented differently between the two servers. To those who say “the versions are basically the same except for minor changes”, I disagree. There are several dialogue changes that appear small in isolation, but because TWST’s narrative is told primarily via dialogue, those “small” changes are actually very large and can drastically modify how one perceives a character or situation without explicit knowledge of JP to balance it out. When Jamil is made an “employee” rather than a “servant” and worries about his parents being mad at him instead of his entire family literally being on the streets for defying the Asims, it takes away the bite from his motivations. When Cater inserts a #WOW that wasn’t there in JP while Riddle is breaking down sobbing, or makes him come off as far more insensitive than emotionally aware. These are just a few examples, but they are very prominent ones that can change how an EN only fan sees things. The idea that “we aren’t even playing the same game” can ring true to some JP players because of this.

It cannot be helped that EN fans would interpret the characters and stories differently when the localization is their only or primary source of TWST content. Not everyone has the time or the desire to look for more accurate fan translations (not all fan translations are the same quality), as some JP fans have suggested. If EN fans want to, that’s great! It’s nice to expand one’s knowledge and to be cognizant of the changes between the versions. There are many blogs out there dedicated to educating people on these matters, and many EN and JP fans alike flocking there to be informed. But that level of engagement shouldn’t be demanded of anyone. To deem those that don’t engage in “further research” as “lazy”, “dumb”, or a “fake fan” is not acceptable, not in the name of love or otherwise. The expectation to “do homework” only puts pressure on EN fans to be a certain way or else be rejected by the fandom, and that only breeds more hatred and negativity. It makes EN fans feel “not worthy” of being a fan unless they study up, when the truth of the matter is that no matter how much we like TWST, it’s… media at the end of the day. People are free to consume their choice of media however they like, and that includes casually or at their own pace. It’s not fun to be in a fandom where others are breathing down your neck and policing everything you do, especially since these spaces are meant to be a temporary escape from reality. If JP fans meant to gatekeep in an effort to make others recognize the “real” greatness of TWST, then it’s failing because this kind of attitude only serves to drive new fans away.

Among EN fans, there is this idea that “JP fans are stuck-up”. I can understand where this thinking comes from, as I have witnessed hatred for EN myself which comes unprompted and has killed many conversations. Admittedly, some points are geared toward the company themselves (and those are valid), such as rushed and/or inaccurate translations or the pushing of paid gems, but I’ve also seen my fair share of nastier, invalid comments directed at EN fans. There are JP fans who actively hope that EN will shut down or who outright dismiss EN fans because of the version they play, thinking of their thoughts and opinions as “lesser” or doubting their media literacy skills. It’s true that this behavior is out there in the fandom, and that is unfortunately a sad reality.

That being said, JP on EN hate is not the only form I see, and nor is it the majority. It goes both ways (and I would say about equally for all, although this is just based on anecdotes and not objective data). There is plenty of JP on JP hate (particularly when someone spreads mistranslations around as though it were the truth) and EN on EN hate (arguments over what is and is not appropriate to ship, differences in headcanons, harassing fans that fall outside an “acceptable” age range, etc). There is also EN on JP hate which feeds into a dangerous back-and-forth with JP on EN hate. I briefly mentioned before that EN fans tend to believe JP fans are elitist, and this leads to assumptions being made about anyone that critiques EN and sometimes lashing out about it. I myself have previously been accused of “hating” EN because I often make posts commenting on the changes made between EN and JP (which ones I think work and which I think don’t). This preemptively defensive behavior drives another wedge between JP and EN fans, making JP fans reluctant to engage with EN fans, which then fuels the belief that JP fans think they’re “better” than EN fans (when really, some JP fans may be intentionally distancing themselves for their own wellbeing). Additionally, a lot of behavior deemed more acceptable in western oriented fandom spaces (such as moral justifications, taking pictures without crediting, callouts of other fans, and incorrect use of fandom tags) are not so for JP spaces (or those familiar with JP spaces). There have also been times when EN fans harass the actual Japanese-speaking side of the fandom (be it Japanese fans or the devs themselves) and demand (not ask, but demand) content that caters to them or free translations of fan comics they make. When EN fans fail to observe such “basic fandom etiquette”, it leads to JP fans thinking them rude or entitled, which makes JP fans reluctant to interact with EN fans and, again, feeds into confirmation bias. It’s a viscous system.

What is “ruining” the fandom is not just one side. There has always been turmoil present in fandom spaces. It just appears more visible now that TWST’s popularity has grown to this scale. Right now, both sides (JP and EN) are antagonizing each other because of a loud minority that’s attacking the other side. That minority then gets extrapolated and assumed to be behavior of the entirety of the other side, and that is what keeps the hate going.

If I’m being entirely honest 😔 I don’t think these tensions will realistically ever die out; the fandom is too large to “stomp out” what has already been established in its culture. When both sides are fueled by something so strong—a passion for TWST—it’s hard to seek out and/or to consider alternative perspectives. We become fixated on their own negative experiences and fail to think about where the “others” maybe be coming from, and then close ourselves off from discussion. That promotes isolation and contempt rather than friendliness and cooperation.

If we want change, then it starts at an individual level and in smaller TWST communities. We shouldn’t assume the worst of “JP” or “EN” fans; we are all TWST fans. Let’s keep open-minded and welcome other fans and their diverse schools of thought. And if you don’t feel comfortable with that, that’s also fine! You’re allow to keep a distance and curate your online space as you like; just please don’t go out of your way to disparage others, you have your own lane and others have theirs. Don’t encroach on other lanes.

Maybe we don’t necessarily agree with each other or we think may hold different opinions—but that’s good, isn’t it? The freedom of thought and the open exchange of ideas promotes flexible thinking and can lead you to see things from a new angle, or perhaps develop a new idea of your own. If we all thought the same way, then life becomes boring or it can cultivate an “us versus them” narrative that sparks online wars.

Let me put it this way to close off the post: isn’t this the message that Twisted Wonderland itself is trying to teach us? The true value of attending Night Raven College isn’t just about receiving a good education. Countless times it has been stressed to us (and often by Lilia, the oldest and wisest of the core cast, someone who used to be resistant to opening up to outsiders) that it is vital to understand other people in spite of how different we may be. Let’s take a page out of the students’ book and try to live up to that ^^

[valentine-writes]

boys don't cry

「 tws + notes: no tws, unedited, masc coded reader (kinda. no pronouns used!! but trust y'all i'll b writing masc reader stuff soon cuz I Need It), inconsistent lengths for each character i am Filled W/ Favouritism, kisses can be platonic (spider-noir part i love this man), reader is used to bottling emotions up, the spot's part is Not That Serious, characters all love u and wanna help :> 」

「 gn!reader, can be platonic or romantic <3 」

↳ ft. gwen stacy, hobie brown/spider-punk, jessica drew, lyla, margo kess/spider-byte, miles morales (1610 and 42), miguel o'hara/spider-man 2099, (spider-man) noir, pavitr prabhakar, peter b parker, and the spot/johnathan ohnn

author's note: this song slaps╰(*°▽°*)╯ also see other songs below which influenced this <3 u can slowly see me losing the slash srsness as the character progress,,, apologies. many :(( anyways!! had this marinating in my drafts so im posting. hopefully will get time to clear my inbox and fulfill reqz! tysm for ur patience lovelies !!!!（。＾▽＾）<333

“i try to laugh about it / hiding the tears in my eyes” – the cure, boys don't cry

“i didn’t want you to hear / that shake in my voice / my pain is my own” – car seat headrest, 1937 state park

“i don’t know why i am / the way i am, not strong enough to be your man” – boygenius, not strong enough

▸ GWEN, who all too familiar with what it's like to keep up a tough act for the sake of not falling apart.

she's grown accustomed to letting emotions eat away at her until they're too big to deal with. which is why she's quick to feel empathy when she sees that you do the same thing.

she won't force you to talk about anything you don't want to– but if you need an outlet, she hands you her drum sticks.

"maybe it'll help you like it helps me." gwen explains, giving you that awkward little smile of hers that makes everything weighing on you feel a little less heavy.

always trying to help you find a way to channel your emotions. even if drumming doesn't work for you. maybe it's singing. maybe it's art. or maybe you just need to cry. no matter what it is, she doesn't mind. she just wants you to let it out in a healthy way.

▸ HOBIE is instantly aware of the fact you're the type to laugh and joke around to hold back tears.

you're trying your hardest to keep smiling, but he sees it falter as you try to speak, choking out the words while holding back a sob.

"'s okay to cry, y'know? no one 'round here but us anyways." he reassures.

you take a sharp inhale, knowing it was useless to pretend. he was always emotionally intelligent, able to read you like a book. sometimes you wondered if he could read your mind. or maybe he was just attentive with you.

he puts a hand on your back, gently rubbing as you feel the tears run down your cheeks. this turns into an arm around your shoulder as you cry, until you're fully sobbing– he decides to just pull your into his arms.

he's still holding you close, even as your cries subside into sniffles. always encourages you to be real with him. there's nothing he loves more than you being unfiltered– even if it means expressing negative emotions. to hobie, vulnerability is bravery.

▸ JESSICA DREW who's quick to notice you the minute you turn away to conceal your face.

she pulls you aside discreetly, knowing you probably didn't want attention of others. tries to meet you eye-level, asks you directly about what's wrong.

after a few seconds of silence, you finally break.

"i feel so weak." you sniffle, not meeting her eyes.

"for doing a little crying?" she sighs a little, shaking her head. "not at all. you're strong– you've been strong. but even strong people gotta cry."

she'll talk you through it or just sit beside you, offering you advice or even just a space to vent. she's very busy all the time– but she'll set aside time for you. tells you that hiding from emotions only works for so long and that tells you that you aren't any less tough in her eyes for feeling them.

you're only human after all. you deserve to live out the wholeness of the human experience.

▸ LYLA isn't really all too involved with your day-to-day life shenanigans (being the best ai assistant is hard), but she always makes a point to check up on you when she gets the chance.

besides, miguel sure isn't gonna gossip with her like you do.

"you doing good?" she'll ask, grinning.

you only respond with a weak "yeah" and the fakest chuckle she's ever heard, as you clearly attempt to blink back tears.

she doesn't know what to do. tries to wipe the tears that eventually fall with a virtual hand that phases right through your face. well. at least she had good intentions.

"hey, hey–" lyla gets you to take a deep breath. "look at me."

she says your name, regrounding you. you look up at her, and for a moment, she's certain that she's felt something akin to sympathy. she's felt something real.

lyla doesn't let that distract her from her objective– right now, she's gotta comfort you.

she repeats your name, "...it's okay. you cry if you feel like it."

▸ MARGO who sits you down, letting you be the one to speak first when your smile wavers.

"i hate fuckin' crying.." you laugh weakly, trying to make the situation better. it doesn't help control the tears. "i feel so lame for it."

"you know," she whispers, taking your hands in yours, "i still think you're pretty cool."

she gives you a grin that's so earnest– so sweet– that lets you know she's being honest.

"okay, so this might be stupid,, butttt–" encourages you two to listen to some moody music so you can get whatever you've bottled up out of you systems. it's cathartic, crying your eyes out with her as whatever the two of you have queued up blasts in the background.

doesn't judge you one bit for crying.

"only way out is through." she shrugs. "gotta feel it before you can actually let it go."

▸ MILES (1610) who had just asked an innocent question about how your doing, now watching as you struggle to respond.

after a strained moment of searching for words, you shrink away and hide your face in your hands. he scoots by your side, asking before gently taking your hands away from your face.

"what's wrong?" his voice is soft. gentle as he looks at you with the sweetest concerned expression.

"i shouldn't be crying.. it's stupid... i feel so, so stupid–"

he frowns at these words. "i don't think it's stupid."

societal expectations forcing people to put on a tough act just to conceal emotions deemed as "weakness?" not a new concept to him. he's just sad that it's impacted you so deeply.

after this, will actively check up on how you're doing emotionally. will pull you aside to have a heart-to-heart if he senses the slightest thing off. terrified of being shut out by you, will always offer for the two of you to deal with whatever you're struggling with together.

▸ MILES (42) who asks more bluntly than he had intended when he senses you're not doing okay.

you take a sharp inhale, giving him an unsteady smile which only makes him sigh. no matter how much you try to make the situation lighthearted, his expression never changes.

"nah. you're not fooling me." he walks over to you, his voice softening as he looks at you. "...what's got you upset?"

a really good listener. lets you rest your head on his shoulder as you vent and let it out.

he's not the most open himself, so of course he understands– but he doesn't want you to be like him.

you thank him for putting up with your breakdown, feeling a little awkward as you pull your cheek away from his shoulder and look at him.

you watch as he falters for a moment, gently grabbing your arm and pulling you in for a warm, slightly stiff, side-hug.

"don't thank me for that– it's just what you deserve." though his quick to dismissal of what you'd said seems to be the end of his sentence– you watch as he unclenches his jaw, hesitating before he says something else.

"anytime. i mean it."

▸ MIGUEL who is jus like u for reals doesn't quite know how to cope with emotions either. that doesn't give him an excuse to not try with you.

he can't find the right words, but you see the empathy in his eyes. he offers quiet comfort– places a hand on your back, rubbing it as you lean into his side

"don't hide your face from me." he mutters to you. "it's just me."

your hands fall from your face into your lap, shoulders slumping. he feels you tremble softly, as you to reply.

"this should be for me to deal with. i should be strong enough." your words echo in his mind.

maybe because he's told himself the same thing too many times before as well. it's painful, the way that this moment with you reflects a mirror image of himself.

will crumble his own walls if it means you'll do the same. tries to be open to encourage you. you'll learn together.

▸ NOIR who is a gentleman through and through. always. tells you that he'll give you anything you need.

"i don't know what nitwit told you it wasn't okay for you to cry," his choice of words makes you crack a slight genuine smile, "but you don't have to believe them one second."

as your facade slowly crumbles, his gloved hands cup your face as you cry. he dries your cheeks, patiently nodding as he listened to you ramble on about everything you've been holding back.

when you've calmed down, he presses a kiss to your forehead.

to ache like this and still be concerned over burdening others– he's now finds little ways to remind you how precious you are to him. that he'll always care.

▸ PAVITR, who approaches you as delicately as possible. he tries not to do anything that will make you feel backed into a corner.

he knows that feeling scared can lead to lashing out. tries to be casual about it to ensure you're as comfortable as possible.

you crack an obviously forced joke and he glances at you questioningly.

"you're not telling me something, aren't you?" he asks. pavitr's secretly hoping he was good at playing this careful– but you had picked up that he wanted to talk to you about it for a while now.

you're both obvious.

your grin fades as you chuckle dryly. "i don't... i don't want to– it's embarrassing."

"what's embarrassing is that i didn't notice earlier. don't be shy. we can figure it out together, okay?"

offers all the help he can. even (secretly) messages gayatri for "advice for a friend" you!!! you are friend!!!!! he doesn't name drop tho. privacy king.

▸ PETER B(E MY WIFE) PARKER. the one who drags you outside to chat about it and cracks a stupid joke himself. it alleviates no tension at all.

"..ahh,, no, nevermind that kid. you okay?"

a shake of your head and his smile fades a bit. he grips your shoulder, shaking you gently.

"been there plenty of times. trust me– better to get it out now."

and for a while, it's just a conversation. you're both sitting outside, the night air bringing a chill to your skin. he offers his jacket– and then proceeds to pull you into it while he still wears it, your back pressed to his chest.

it goes unspoken, but he knew you had been struggling for a while now. he's relieved to finally get a moment with you.

he'll always be looking out for you. even if you don't realize.

▸ THE SPOT/JOHNATHAN OHNN panics ever so slightly. this is the first time you've ever cried in front of him. so he does what he does best– and just asks questions.

"you've been bottling it up this whole time?"

"mhm..."

"for how long?..." your response causes him to pause, blinking several times before parting his lips to speak again. "...oh. oh wow– yikes–" he means well i swear.

will scour the multiverse in search of a quiet place for you to lay this all to rest.

you admit, you're certain you don't need all this– but he seems happy to put in the effort and lead you into a portal into a nice area to relax.

"are we breaking and entering into someone's house?!"

"uh– don't worry about it for now."

[lostloveletters]

Jesus or Gasoline (John Brady x OC)

Summary: Woody isn't sure what she believes in, except for the way John Brady makes her feel.

Note: Here it is, the result of my making a ‘guy who says grace before giving head’ joke about Brady. I wanna give a million thanks to all the Woody/Brady babes out there because y'all's support and enthusiasm for them means the world to me! As usual I listened to a lot of Bruce Springsteen while writing this. Do not interact if you’re under 18, terf or radfem, or post thinspo/ED content.

Word count: 3.2k

Warnings: Inevitable historical inaccuracies. This goes into Woody’s not so great childhood/young adulthood and her generally negative internalized thoughts surrounding religion. Sexually explicit content involving oral sex (f. receiving) and coming in pants.

The field behind the hangar was a questionable date spot at best, but Woody figured it was better than nothing. Secluded enough with some lighting as to not be stumbling around in the dark, but without fear of being easily identified if they got caught before they could make a break for it if needed. 

Word of the late night rendezvous had come from Holly, barely able to contain her excitement at being the messenger. “Your beau wanted me to tell you to meet him tonight,” she whispered, giggling as she added, “said you’d know where.”

Woody had given Holly all of the details the night John Brady kissed her, her best friend in ecstatic disbelief that so much had happened while she and Bucky were listening to a baseball game across the way. Holly took girl code as a sacred oath, not mentioning Woody and Brady’s relationship to a soul in the week or so that had passed. John wasn’t exactly pleased when Woody let him know that she told Holly, but he supposed if Woody trusted Holly that much, he could, too.

“There you are, sweetheart,” John said, with a genuine fondness that she almost couldn’t believe was directed toward her. “Have you been waiting long?”

She shook her head, greeting him with a kiss. “I’ve been looking forward to seeing you all day.”

“I brought you something,” he said, pulling a Hershey bar from his pocket. 

“Don’t waste that on me, are you kidding?”

“Holly told me you give the village kids whatever candy you get, and I know ground crew doesn’t get as much in your rations as we do.” 

Good ol’ Holly. “They appreciate it more than me.”

He looked at her pointedly, though eyes glistened in amusement as he half-scolded, “Don’t reject a gift, sweetheart. It’s bad manners.”

Woody fought back a smile, felt her cheeks heating up . “Thank you, Johnny. You’re real sweet.” Gave him a kiss on the cheek and squeezed his forearm. “Can we at least split it?”

“I won’t say no to that.” 

The grass was damp from the late afternoon rain. She was glad she thought to grab an old blanket, worn out and smelled faintly of fuel, but it’d do. 

He split the bar in two, handing the bigger half to her. She took a bite, surprised to find herself feeling a wistful melancholy for the states at the taste of it. Wasn’t sure she ever felt homesick before, but there was a first time for everything. Like John laying out on the blanket, resting his head in her lap.

“Comfortable?” she asked with a laugh.

“Great view from here.”

“Glad to hear it.”

“You know, I’ve been dying to ask you this ever since I met you,” he began, giving her pause at the seemingly endless possible questions he could hit her with. “Do you really like being called ‘Woody’?”

She nodded, stroking his hair, taking in how relaxed he looked. “Yeah, I really do. It’s been nice to leave ‘Kate’ behind and start fresh.”

“So your first name is just Kate?”

“Shows you how much thought my parents put into it.”

“See, I wanna know more about you.”

“What do you mean?”

“We talk a good deal, but I don’t know much about your life before all of this.”

“I don’t have anything nostalgic or good to tell you, especially not about me. I’m ashamed of who I was before. I’m trying to be better, John. I really am. I don’t—I don’t hang around people who have nothing going for them.”

People like how she used to be. The backstreets burst at the seams with them. Children of neglect, of the Depression, of something wild otherwise running through their veins. They made their homes where they could. Guys who rode around on streaks of lightning, spewing pure gasoline from snarled lips on each of those hilly avenues until they were wrangled in the back of cherry-topped police cars. Girls who should’ve known better drank empty promises out of broken glasses, handed to them by the constantly circling shark-men. Kate learned quickly not to get attached to anyone. They looked out for each other, but they weren’t friends. There was a difference.

“I got an older brother named Tom. Last I heard he was in jail for holding up a liquor store,” she said. “I haven’t seen him since I was eleven, though. That’s when I really started looking after myself.”

“Eleven is pretty young to be on your own,” he said, taking her hand from his hair and holding it in his own, intertwining their fingers.

“What were you doing when you were eleven?”

He shrugged. “Rode bikes around with my friends. Started learning saxophone. I was an altar boy, too.”

“So your family went to mass a lot when you were growing up?”

“Every Sunday that we could. I remember my mom waking us up to go even when we had to walk through a foot of snow to get there because the roads hadn't been cleared yet,” he said, his voice growing softer as he spoke. “Doesn’t seem all that bad, now. Maybe it—it helped some.”

Woody had seen John make the sign of the cross dozens of times. Father, Son, and Holy Ghost. Remembered the first time she watched him among the other Catholic guys in the 100th, crowded around the chaplain for his makeshift blessing on the tarmac before their missions. Devotion ran exceptionally high then, men suddenly armed with a rainbow of beaded rosaries and holy cards adorned with saints whose weary eyes gazed upward, where those men were soon to be. Their heads bowed in silent contemplation as the priest concluded in Latin, John’s mouth moving along with sed libera nos a malo. But deliver us from evil.

A handsome face like his deserved half a dozen kids with names like Mary and Francis who filed neatly into a pew with their shiny patent shoes and a big family meal to look forward to after mass. Kids who gave the likes of her odd looks when she shuffled into church for whatever lunch the nuns were dishing out that afternoon. Always dressed in her Sunday worst—ill-fitting blouses and holey shoes until she ditched their charity and decided she was better off raising hell in denim jeans. God loved everyone, and his love was unconditional, but no one wanted to say he loved some people more than others, and Kate was pretty low on his list. 

After all, Kate Woodward was born without a middle name on a Wednesday morning that even god himself forgot about. Didn’t know what the weather had been like the first time she breathed in the air of her home city, but she was sure it felt like a kick in the chest. Probably why babies cried when they made their grand escape from the womb. 

Hardly raised in the first place, Kate had little faith in god or man, just in the machines she could bend to her will until they gave her freedom to go wherever she pleased. But her freedom had gnashing teeth and a forked tongue that were never satisfied, no matter how many vices she fed it, and she was nothing short of gluttonous in this endeavor. 

Tried and true, the one she had the hardest time shaking—sticky fingers. If Kate saw something she liked, she took it. From drug store shelves to purses to wallets, nothing was off limits. As time went on, her spoils only got bigger and better, linking up with people who taught her how to steal cars like riding a bike. She had yet to find a replacement for that particular thrill, but her self-control had markedly improved in a little over two years.

Then there were men with hacksaw smiles that threatened to cut her open if she got as close as they wanted her to. Thunderous voices that cracked with rage when she’d shove the smoldering cherry tip of her cigarette into a hand that got too close for comfort. None of them were any good, not like the man with his head in her lap, who brought her chocolate rations and listened intently to her, even as her voice shook with trepidation at bearing so much of her heart.

Woody hummed, her fingers trembling as she traced the features on his face—his expressive brows, the nose that gave him a profile she could hardly tear her eyes from, lips she dreamed about since the night he first kissed her and every time since. Besides the power of a well-maintained engine, she believed in the way she felt about John.

“I was lonely and angry,” she murmured after relaying her patchwork of regrets and fears to him. “I made a lot of mistakes because of that. It’s not an excuse. But I wanna be honest with you so you can still change your mind about me if you want to. I understand if you do.”

“There’s nothing to change my mind about, sweetheart. I want to be with you,” he said, conviction strong in his voice as he sat up.

“I’m not a virgin,” she stressed.

He shook his head. “Don’t take this the wrong way, but I would’ve been surprised if you were.”

“Well, I didn’t love any of them—four guys in total, mind you—and it’s not like I got anything out of it, either.” She sighed. “I don’t know if that makes it better or worse.”

Crushes were for girls who lived in nice houses and wrote hearts above their i’s. Desire ran hot, expressed in glances made with hooded lids beneath buzzing neon lights that left a thousand things unsaid. But after that handful of physically underwhelming experiences which ended up being far more trouble than they were worth, she came to the conclusion that she was better suited to get her own rocks off.

“Got what out of it?” he asked.

She chewed on her lip. The only sin out there was getting caught, and Kate Woodward never got caught. Woody chose to confess. “I had to get to the good part myself.”

“That’s unacceptable.” 

Her heart sank. “I haven’t done it in—“

“Those selfish bastards never made you come?” 

“Not one.”

“In that case, I’d be glad to be your first.”

“I want you to be,” she said, leaning back on her hands in the dewey grass, spreading her coverall-clad legs apart. “I wanna do everything with you.”

He placed his hand on her thigh, his fingers playing with the inner hem of her coveralls. “Tell me how you want it, sweetheart.”

“I want your mouth.” Truthfully, she’d never had a guy go down on her before. Heard about it from other girls, wild ones out in the desert. A few others as she got to know the first group of WAAC girls she bunked with after enlisting. Even from Holly, as apparently Stan had been generous and enthusiastic about that aspect of their sex life. Stan, Stan, what a man, the girls would tease about Holly’s fiance before he was dearly departed. 

The corners of John’s lips twitched up as he brought his fingers further along the hem, inching closer to her covered sex. “Never had a girl ask me to do that before.”

“You really don’t mind?”

“Why would I?”

She hesitated, averting her eyes from him. “A lot of guys think it’s gross.”

“I think I should decide for myself, don’t you?” He cupped her chin, caressing her jaw with his thumb. “Look at me, sweetheart. What do you want me to do?”

Upon returning her gaze to his, she found no judgment behind his eyes, but a passionate sincerity.

“I want you to go down on me,” she said.

She studied him as he watched her. His pretty lips parted slightly, drinking her in as more of her body was exposed. It wasn’t a strip tease, nothing sexy about the way she pulled her arms out from the sleeves and yanked her coveralls down to her knees, finally kicking them to her ankles and off entirely. Sat before him in her white t-shirt, plain underwear, and boots, almost boyish if not for her breasts, low on her chest, nipples poking through the fabric. 

“Are you wearing a bra?” He sounded breathless, almost as if he couldn’t believe he was even asking.

“No,” she said, her lips curving into a smile, letting him in on another secret. “I always take it off at the end of the day. Don’t tell anyone.” 

As if the other girls didn’t know, with some degree of judgment along with their understanding that the damn thing got uncomfortable, could chafe with all the work they were doing, the sweat and friction. It wasn’t like anyone could really tell beneath the other layers, anyway. But anyone meant anyone of the male persuasion, and with that, John dutifully shook his head.

His lips were on hers in an instant, a hand on her waist, the other shoved up her shirt, squeezing her breasts. She gasped at the way his rough palm felt against her nipple, and he took the opportunity to deepen the kiss, his tongue in her mouth. Her moans were lost to the world, claimed by him and him alone. He straddled her lap, keeping her in place beneath him. 

John moved his hand from her waist to between her legs, rubbing her already wet pussy through her underwear. Her lips were undoubtedly swollen from the ferocity with which he kissed her. A delicious shiver ran down her spine at the thought of how it’d feel against her cunt. 

He hooked his fingers in the waistband of her panties, and she lifted her hips, allowing him to pull them off of her. Bringing up her knees, she felt a burst of adrenaline rush through her at being so exposed to him.

“You need to tell me how I’m doing, alright? I wanna make sure you feel good,” he said.

“Yeah, yeah, okay,” she mumbled, almost dizzy with desire as he lowered his face between her legs.

His hot breath on her cunt, lips brushing against her folds. She strained to hear… whispering?

“Johnny?” she asked after a few moments of aching anticipation. “Baby, if you don’t wanna— Jesus Christ,” she choked out. Jesus, Mary, Joseph, and all the rest of them. 

His tongue lapped at her clit, eyes looking up at her for approval. With a shaky nod, she bid him to continue, biting her lip as to stifle the whine that threatened to escape her mouth. A noble attempt, but fruitless when he licked up her pussy with the flat of his tongue, pulling a moan from deep in her chest. Her heart was beating between her legs. 

Woody could make herself feel pretty damn good on her own. She lifted a dirty magazine from a guy in Reno once. Had pictures and everything, though she wasn’t sure how real it all was. She’d look at the pictures, tongue between her lips and hand between her thighs as she imagined herself in those women’s places, feeling the ecstasy written all over their expressive faces with their typically faceless partners. From there, she’d get creative, allowing her mind to conjure up a man who, behind her closed eyes, could bring her to orgasm. Even in her wildest fantasies, she never thought she’d find one who’d actually want to bury his face in her pussy. 

Fuck, if she couldn’t feel John’s fingers digging into her thighs, she would’ve almost thought she was dreaming. She grabbed his hair, pressing his face harder against her cunt. He was giving so much, and she’d take all of it, greedy with the pleasure he offered her.  

He slid two fingers inside her pussy, slowly enough to see how she’d take it before pumping them in and out at a quicker pace. Used his other hand to hold her down when her hips jerked up in his face, like her muscles had a mind of their own, hellbent on reaching an orgasm. Hell, so was she.

“Just like that— fuck,” she rasped, her nails scraping against his scalp.

She nearly wanted to ask if he’d been lying, if he had gone down on a girl before. He at least had enough experience to know where her fucking clit was, but his mouth. Jesus, how could he expect her to go to the officer’s club and watch him play saxophone after this? As if she wouldn’t be sitting there, skin feverish, thighs pressed together, thinking about his mouth and his fingers in that moment. The way his teeth grazed against her clit, making her pussy clench around his fingers. The way it almost felt like he was making out with her cunt. Their eyes would meet, and he’d know, maybe have a little smirk on his face up there, too. An obscene secret privately shared amidst dozens of other people who’d be none the wiser. 

“Don’t stop,” She was so close it almost hurt, wound up tight and pulsing in her gut, waiting to be released. “Please don’t stop.” Hot tears rolled freely down her cheeks. Her chest felt like it was on the verge of bursting open. Between a fistful of grass and a hand buried in his hair, she cried out his name like a vulgar prayer in the night as her orgasm rocked through her.

A universe of stars burst across her abdomen, white-hot supernova tearing through her muscles, blinding her from anything but the pleasure that pulsed from her pussy. She finally came down from it, covered in sweat, chest heaving, a wild-eyed woman as John pushed himself back up on unsteady arms.

She grabbed his shirt, pulling him closer so he was straddling her lap. Took in his mussed up hair and the way his lips glistened with the traces of her still on them. She kissed him, a muffled moan in her throat at the taste of herself on this tongue. 

She wanted him. More of him. Everything he had to give. Wasn’t sure it’d be enough to sate her need, but damn if she couldn’t try.

“Johnny, can’t we just do it?” she pleaded, her voice a girlish whine that sounded otherwise foreign coming from her as she desperately pawed at him.

“Next time,” he whispered. “Next time, sweetheart, I promise.” Grazed his teeth against her hummingbird pulse. “I didn’t bring a condom.” 

“But what about you?” she pressed, reaching for his crotch. “You must be—“

He shook his head, cheeks flushed as he licked his lips. “I got carried away, sweetheart. I, uh—I’m good.” 

She slipped her hand down his pants, feeling the sticky evidence of his orgasm for herself. Her fingertips brushed the sensitive head of his spent cock, sending a shiver down his spine. Was he good, though? He groaned. No wonder Douglass kept so many goddamn rubbers in his footlocker.

“Next time,” he repeated, voice strained and husky in a horrific display of self-control. He nearly regretted it when she pulled her hand away, feeling something sinful stir in his gut as she inspected her hand, finally bringing it to her mouth and licking the residue off her knuckles with a feline-esque curl of her tongue.

“Just say the word, Johnny. Whenever you want me to return the favor, I’ll drop everything for you.”

He swallowed roughly. She meant it.

[millersdjarin]

I Only See Daylight

Chapter Four

Pairing: Din Djarin x F!Reader

Rating: E (eventually)

Chapter warnings/tags: slow burn, dad!din, bonding, injuries (not in detail), negative self-talk, mentions of past trauma/abuse

Chapter Length: 4.2k

Previous Chapter | Series Masterlist & Info

notes: im sorry this chapter is a bit shorter than the others! if it's any consolation, a few of the chapters in this fic are 10k, so there's that. :) i've set a posting schedule of mondays and thursdays, but this week i'm posting on sunday because i'm going to be travelling on monday and i have to stay off tumblr to avoid tlou spoilers until the evening. so, surprise :)

i don't wanna look at anything else now that i saw you

“How do you feel?” Is the first thing you hear when you wake, rolling over on your makeshift bed to find Mando standing at the cave entrance again. He’s leaning against the wall with one shoulder, his hip cocked out, one leg bent casually. 

Kriffing hells, how is he so attractive when all you can see of him is his posture and his impossibly shiny armour? 

You force the thought from your mind, blaming it on your half-asleep state. 

“I don’t know yet,” you answer with a grimace. It’s been two days since your fall. The pain is better, though the rest of your body feels stiff now, muscle soreness finally catching up with you after the tumble. There hasn’t been another storm, at least, so Mando has managed to hunt for every meal so far. He goes out to get water every morning, filling canteens to the brim. He makes you drink so much that sometimes it feels like you’re swimming in it. “Hydration helps with healing,” he says every time, even though you already know; he says it just to counter your playful glaring at him every time he hands you the flask. 

“Sun rose not that long ago,” he cranes his neck to gaze up at the sky, “if you’re feeling up to it, we can probably travel today.” 

You manage to sit up, but the minute you do, pain shoots down from the wound on your calf and into your ankle. It circles there around the joint and throbs. “Have we got any more ice packs?” 

“One more,” Mando answers as he heads right over to his medpack and gets it out. 

“We should ration it,” you hold out your hand to stop him activating it. “For when we’re travelling. I’ll probably need it.” 

He looks down at the pack, hesitates. Then nods and puts it away. “Do you think you’ll be okay to travel today? If so, we should move soon, make the most of the daylight.”

Shifting a little, you try to get a gage on your body, how it feels. A grimace makes its way onto your face without your consent. Everything hurts. Literally everything. Muscles you didn’t even know you had are strained and stiff. 

But you’ve been here for two days. He’s been stranded here for four. 

“If the answer is anything but yes,” his voice cuts through your rapidly declining thoughts, “then my answer is no.” 

Relieved, you smile. But you protest, “Mando, you’ve stayed with me so long now. I can make my own way back.” 

“No,” he says definitively. “We move when you’re ready.” 

You relax, settling back against the wall. You’re too sore to argue. 

“The kid’s enjoying the vacation, anyway,” Mando says, the lilt of a smile in his voice. 

As if summoned, Grogu steps forward from his little bed at the back of the cave. He yawns, his tiny mouth opening as wide as it can go, his eyes screwing shut. 

Oh, Maker, he is adorable. 

“You take time off a lot?” You ask with a wry smile as Mando scoops the kid up into his arms. 

The huff of a laugh comes through his helmet. “Not really.” 

“Why am I not surprised?”

Mando tickles Grogu’s cheek, earning a little giggle. 

You watch them. There’s that warmth again, creeping its way between your ribs, around your heart. 

You have to look away. 

All three of you are starting to get a little stir crazy by the time the night comes around. 

You’re feeling better, though. Mando’s hydration obsession is working to help loosen out your stiff muscles. It doesn’t help, though, that you have to keep getting up every hour to pee. Especially because you have to tell Mando every time nature calls, which is, admittedly, rather humiliating—it shouldn’t be, it’s fucking natural, but he’s Mando and he’s been making you feel a certain way, and you don’t want to have to admit to this terrifying yet comforting man that you have to piss. It’s even worse that he has to help you hobble outside, then walk away while you do your business, and come back and pretend to not notice the puddle sinking into the ground. 

It’s demoralising. Your cheeks are tired from flushing red all the time. 

But he insists on you drinking enough, even when you protest. 

“I don’t mind doing this, you know,” he says as the sun sets, an arm around you as you hobble to the designated Nature Area. 

“Yes, you do,” you grumble, kind of just wanting the ground to open up and swallow you whole. 

“I don’t,” he insists. “It’s fine. Besides, it’s good to move a little.” 

“A little? Mando, it’s every hour, on the hour, at this point.” 

The unfamiliar sound of a soft laugh comes through his helmet. If you didn’t know any better, you’d say it sounded fond. But you’ve never heard a laugh like that. So. “It’s good. Just call me back when you’re ready.” 

He never comes back until you call, no matter how long it takes you.

It isn’t lost on you, either, that you never would have been able to do this on your own. You’d have had to piss where you sat. Which seems like a worse concept than just ruining your leg, and subsequent mobility, forever by forcing yourself to walk home. 

As darkness approaches, Mando takes his flashlight—yours is long dead by now—and puts it in the far end of the cave. He stays over there, rustling in his pack for something. Curious, you watch, wondering what he’s doing; he angles the light strangely, propping it up with a few stray rocks on the ground, and then fishes out a small piece of canvas, pulled from what remained of your tent. He puts it over the flashlight, folds it once. 

Then, the light is softer. Diffused around the cave. 

Grogu, who is sitting against the wall playing with a little silver ball, looks up at the newly-lit cave walls and laughs in glee. 

“You like it, kid?” Mando asks him. 

The kid claps his hands together, gazing around. Mando laughs softly and sits back down beside the kid, watching him. 

You’re watching Mando. It’s impossible not to, with the soft light reflecting from his armour in a new way, casting new highlights and shadows across every curve and edge. You wonder what places he’s been, how he’d look in all kinds of light. Harsh, bright, sunshine of a bright summer’s day, the dark ashy colour beneath rain clouds. 

“Mando?” You find yourself saying. 

He looks up at you, one hand holding the kid. 

“Tell me about somewhere else you’ve been,” you request. “Please?” 

“Where do you want to hear about?” 

“Anywhere. First place that comes to mind.” 

For a second, he’s quiet, just looking at you. Considering. When he speaks, he doesn’t say what you expected him to, and his voice is softer than it should be. “You really want to travel, don’t you?” 

And, okay. 

That hits a nerve. 

You look away, blinking. It’s clear that you’ve tensed, that something has made you uncomfortable; and you expect him to backtrack, to apologise, but he just waits. So patient, like he wouldn’t mind if you didn’t say anything, or even if you just told him to fuck right off. You wish you could see his face, decipher his expression. Match it to the soft curiosity of his lovely voice. 

“Yeah,” you manage on a shaky breath, imagining yourself up there, in the vastness of space, free to explore the Galaxy. “Yeah, I do.” 

Quiet again. He’s giving you space. 

You take it, let it sink in. 

Then, his voice is there again, “So why don’t you?”

And if that isn’t a question and a half. “It’s, uh,” you clear your throat. You’re about to say it’s complicated. But that doesn’t even cover the half of it. Instead, feeling a cold, familiar dread slowly creeping through your veins, you say, “I like it here.” 

He doesn’t say anything, but he looks at you still, some kind of unexplainable patience coming from his dark visor. 

It’s unclear if he can hear the omission of the truth.

You don’t want to lie to him. 

You’re sitting here, in a cave that he so beautifully lit as best he can, on top of a bed that he made just for you to be comfortable, after he’s helped you pee about twelve times a day for the last two days. He’s been nothing but kind. 

And it’s not that you feel like you owe him answers because of that. Nor, in fact, that you think he feels you owe him answers. His quiet, unassuming patience in the dim intimacy of this cave is proof enough of that. 

No, it’s not that. 

It’s that you’ve been alone for so long. You’ve never said this to anyone.

And after all this, once you’re back at your hut and you’ve fixed his ship together, he’s going to leave. And you’re never going to see him again, anyway. 

So. 

“Truthfully,” you say, “as much as I like it here, it’s not where I’d choose to be. If I had another choice.” 

Instead of staying still and silent, he starts to nod. His gaze is unwavering, solid and stable, weaving its way into the tension and uncertainty beneath your skin, soothing it.

Grogu gets up and waddles over to you. He climbs clumsily into your lap.

Then, with a quick look to Grogu, Mando says, “I understand.”

And that, those simple words, make something release in your chest.

The weight of your confession doesn’t feel as heavy as you’d expected. In fact, it feels like something has lifted in the air between the three of you. Like even the kid understands. 

Well.

This is new. 

-

As the third morning in the cave rolls around, you wake up feeling much better. 

Once you’ve relieved your always-full bladder, you tell Mando as much, staggering back into the cave and to your bed. “You can stop over-watering me now,” you tease as he lets you back against the wall, gentle. Your hands are on the backs of his arms, and slide all the way down them as he moves away. You wish you could linger there, and the way he moves so slowly, his visor gazing down into your sleepy eyes, makes you think that he wishes that, too. 

As your palms brush against his wrists, he seems to catch himself. He pulls away quickly and turns to distract himself with the kid.

“So, you’re ready to travel?” He asks. 

“As I’ll ever be,” you reply, staring at him from behind. He has a nice behind. (And you need to stop. Immediately.)

“You can lean on me. We’ll take it slow, I promise.” 

Kriff, say that again… “I’ll be alright. You’ve got enough to carry.” 

He looks at you again. “I’m leaving the parts here,” he says, like that should be obvious. 

“What?” You frown. “But your ship…” 

“Once we find our way back, and you’re safe, I’ll come back for them.” 

“Mando, I can manage. Seriously, we should take the parts. You’ve been here long enough.” 

The helmet tilts. “You trying to get rid of me?” It would concern you, if the teasing in his tone wasn’t arousingly obvious.

You just about manage to recover from the stirring in your belly, and you laugh, “Totally. Sick of you already.” 

The kid, standing beside him, looks at you and makes a sad noise. His ears turn down towards the ground. 

Kriff. “Hey, I’m just kidding,” you assure him with a smile. As a peace offering, you reach your hands out to him, and he relaxes in an instant, immediately plodding over to you and climbing into your lap. You hold him, give him a quick hug, then just let him sit there. “Don’t tell anyone, but I’m actually gonna miss you,” you whisper into his ear. He coos happily, tugging at a loose thread on your coat.

When you look up, Mando is, of course, staring at you. This time, you know for sure that it’s at both you and the kid.

“What?” You ask. 

“Nothing,” he answers after a moment of hesitation. “I’m going to pack up. Then we can move. You okay to sit with the kid?” 

“You know I am,” you smile, and watch as Mando nods and heads outside.

That pang in your chest is back. Well, you’re not sure when it turned from a slow warmth into a pang. 

But it’s there. Too obvious to ignore. 

For a few miles, you manage pretty well. It took some convincing, but you got Mando to agree to taking the parts along with him in the end. You do lean on him, but only when moving over particularly rough terrain, fallen logs, or exposed tree roots. 

“How we doing?” Mando asks at around noon. 

“Fine,” you say, feeling a little breathless. 

“You sure?” 

“I’m sure. We can stop soon for a break.” 

Another hour passes, your ankle is starting to throb, and you’re really fucking glad that you saved that ice pack for this exact moment. 

Mando sits you down on a fallen log, keeping his arm around you until you’re properly seated, lingering just a little too long for you to tame the way it makes your heart beat wildly. To feel the heat of him through his flight suit, your hands and arms pressed to parts of him not covered by armour, just the soft parts; it’s a lot. When you first saw him, this wall of metal, you never thought you’d see any further than that. Kriff, you never even thought he’d get closer to your hut than he was when you had your blaster pointed at him. 

Maybe that would have been best. Because if he’d just left, if there was another way for him to get the help he needed, you wouldn’t be thinking about him the way you are right now. 

The softness of the crook of his elbow, the curve of his waist and hip. The warmth of his skin that you have yet to see an inch of. All of the weapons strapped to him, so close to you, close enough that if it were anyone else, you’d be scared. 

But it’s Mando. 

This might be the least scared you’ve been in a lifetime. 

He cracks the ice pack to activate it, then kneels down in front of you. Reaching out to grab a smaller log, he places it under your ankle, elevates your leg slightly. Then his gloved fingers tug at the hem of your trousers. “Can I?” He asks. 

Kriff. You nod, unable to form words. 

The rough-yet-smoothness of the gloves is all you feel at first, brushing delicately against your skin as he lifts your trousers, then unlaces your boots, gently pulling them off, followed by your socks. Your ankle is more swollen than it had been this morning, but you’d expected that. 

And, besides, that is not what you’re thinking about right now. 

Instead your mind can only focus on the softness of his hold under your foot, the gentle way he places the ice pack on top of it. The heat of his hand starts to come through. You wish it was his bare skin. Wish you knew what his skin is like. Is it calloused, or soft from always protecting them? Does he have scars? Is the hair on his arms dark, light, a thin covering or thicker, perfect to run your fingers through—

His hands are gone before you realise it. It takes your glitching mind a second to catch up.

You chase him with your eyes, silently wishing for him to come back. 

But then. 

Then. 

As he turns away, he reaches for the flask in his satchel. You watch his hands lift to his helmet, take a gentle hold of the base of it. At first you panic, thinking he’s about to remove his helmet, no you don’t have to do that it’s okay—

But he just lifts it the tiniest bit, such a small movement that you only know it has been lifted because he puts the rim of his flask to his lips and takes a sip. 

You can’t see his skin, not a hint of it. But you can hear him drinking, hear the water against his lips, the gentle gulps as he swallows. 

And the way it entrances you, takes you away from the forest and the pain of your ankle and the fact that this is so not appropriate for you to be thinking—yeah, it’s probably for the best that he can’t ever show his face to you.

You look away before he even lowers the helmet again. 

-

Maybe the worst part about all this is that you’re starting to dread Mando and the kid leaving. 

That’s not how this was supposed to go, not how any of this was supposed to play out. You helped him because it was the right thing to do, because it’s exactly what They would tell you not to do, because your life has been the same every single fucking day since you got here. 

But that’s been fine. It’s been safe. 

“Pass me that wrench?” Mando asks, breaking you out of your thoughts. 

You pass him it, noting the tilt of his helmet in a wordless ‘thanks’ before he turns back to his job. He’s up on a ladder, leaning against the ship’s exterior wall with one of the panels fully off, fixing something to do with the foundation for the body. 

His ship is bigger than you’d expected. He tells you that it’s bigger than his old ship, the Razor Crest, but only by a little. “It’s a similar shape,” he’d said, “but it has two bunks and more space. For the kid.” He has a star fighter too, apparently, docked at some other base off-world with a friend of his. It’s funny to imagine him with friends, though you’re not sure why. Especially because, since getting to know him the last few days, you know how generous he is. How kind, helpful. Gentle, despite everything. 

Why wouldn’t he have friends?

Beneath him, you sit on a crate and lean against the ship, waiting for him to give you more instructions. The engine has been mostly fixed now, as much as it’s ever going to be out here in the middle of nowhere using scrounged-up parts. He’s just getting the last of the body work done, enough to make sure it’s aerodynamically sound. 

It’s interesting, watching him work. You ask a lot of questions, and every time you do, you expect a frustrated sigh or an exasperated response. But he answers every question thoroughly, and it doesn’t even distract him from his work. 

The sun is warm against your face. The afternoon of Mando’s fifth day on this planet is drawing to a close, fading into the evening. As the sky turns to duller shades of blue, tinted with oranges and pinks, you can’t help but admire the way he looks beneath the light. His armour is always the same, always so distinctive, yet it reflects different lights in different ways. Sometimes it makes the beskar appear darker, like a gun metal grey. Other times it’s a bright silver. Then there are times like this, when it goes with the colour of the sky, reflects the beauty of everything surrounding him. 

You think back to the light in the cave, how that looked different still. The urge to see the Galaxy comes over you again, though this time it’s not staring at his ship and dreaming about taking off in it that does it; this time, it’s wondering what he looks like in even more places, more environments. Does the metal get hot in the sunshine? Or is it always as cool as it’s been when you’ve had the chance to feel it before? 

The kid is sitting on the ground in front of you. There’s a beetle scuttling around in the mud, and Grogu is toying with it, blocking it off when it runs one way, then doing the same when it runs the other. You wonder if he’s going to eat it, or if he’s just having fun by being cruel to the little six-legged creature. 

“Don’t play with your food,” Mando says to him, answering your silent question. 

Grogu looks up at him. His ears turn downwards, sulking. Mando ignores his obvious pleas to change his mind, turning back to his work. When Grogu looks back at the beetle, he only just catches it before it runs off, and instead of toying with it anymore, he just shoves it in his mouth with a loud crunch. 

You find yourself smiling at him. He smiles back, ears lifting again. 

“Alright,” Mando starts to step down from the ladder. You reach out and hold one of the ladder’s legs, knowing he probably doesn’t need you to, but still not wanting to risk it. Ladders make you nervous. “Think that’s the best we’re going to get.” 

You look up to the ship. He’s fixed the panel back on again. Now all that remains is the burnt metal from his “interesting landing”, with some bends in it, exposing little sections of the framework beneath. It’s definitely a patchwork job. But it looks better than it did when you got here this morning. So.

“How’s your leg?” He asks as he folds up the ladder. 

“Good,” you answer. It’s stretched out in front of you, propped on another crate. “Ship looks good.” 

With a resigned sigh, he puts his hand on his hips, and tilts his helmet to look up at his handiwork. “No, she doesn’t. But she’ll do.” Then he looks back to you, “I couldn’t have fixed it without your help. Thank you.” 

You shift under his gaze, unable to help it. Every time he looks at you it feels like his eyes can see right through you, and the part that makes you uncomfortable is that it doesn’t make you uncomfortable. Self-conscious and disgustingly aware of your own inappropriate, lustful thoughts? Yes. Uncomfortable? No. You don’t think it ever could. 

“Of course,” you say eventually. “And, hey, I’ve got a scar to remember our little adventure by, huh?” 

He laughs softly. You see the shake of his chest as the chuckle comes through his modulator. “I’m not sure that’s a good thing.” 

“Hm, no. But there’s no gift shop around here. So.” 

He shakes his head, and you imagine, hope, that he’s smiling under all that beskar. He certainly looks casual, a hand on one hip, one leg relaxed while his weight rests on the other. 

“Do you always stare so much?” You find yourself asking with a teasing, daring quirk of your brow. 

“Yes.”

“At everyone, or just me?”

He pauses. Your heart rate spikes briefly as you wait for his response to your terrible excuse for flirting. “At everyone,” he answers eventually, and disappointment starts to set in before he says, “But it’s harder to look away from you.” 

Oh. 

The disappointment quickly shifts to nervousness, heart beating fast again as you clench your hands in your lap. He just stands there, staring despite the awkward and loaded silence between you, and stares. As if he’s making his point by offering an example. 

You look away. Suddenly, your cheeks are hot. “You hungry?” You find yourself asking. 

He pauses again, then nods. “Yes.” 

“I’ll make us some dinner. You just come back to the hut whenever you’re ready.” It’s only as you stand to hobble back home that you realise he might not want that. You swivel back around to face him, backtrack, “I mean, unless you want to eat out here. Your ship’s fixed now, I guess you can—you can stay in that? You don’t have to come back with me. I’ll be okay.” 

Again, getting more and more infuriating with each silence he lets stretch out, he just stares. Kriffing hells, does he ever stop!? 

“Would you let me cook for you?” He asks, finally.

You weren’t expecting that. 

Shifting weight to your good leg, you raise your eyebrows. “You want to cook me dinner?” 

He nods once. “Yes. To thank you for all your help. And as a farewell.” 

You’ve been trying your hardest not to think about that part. It sits in your stomach, cold and dreadful and confusing, too far down for you to swallow it. “Alright,” you agree with a soft smile. “I can’t promise I’ve got any decent ingredients, though. You might have to perform a miracle.” 

“I’m up to the challenge,” he says, hooking his thumb over the belt around his hips. You’re distracted by it, finding your eyes sliding down to his middle before you catch yourself and look back up. The tilt of his helmet suggests he might have seen your gaze shift. “I’ll walk back with you. Just give me a minute.” 

You can’t find a reason to refuse. 

♡ updates posted Mondays and Thursdays ♡

notes: thank you for reading! all interactions are appreciated as always, but comments and reblogs especially fuel my need for validation ❤️ as always, the title and lyrics at the start are from taylor swift's "daylight"

taglist: @toobsessedsstuff @granillx @keepingitlokiii @shoe1412 @kiruoris @quentinor @yourunstablegf @moonknight-s-cumdump @senassn @samanthacookieone @local-fanfic-addict @your-slutty-gf @brilliantopposite187 @iwantjoelmillertoultraviolenceme

if you wanna be on the taglist, let me know! (pls specify if just the taglist for this fic, or the list for all my future fics ❤️)

[fellow-anime-weeb927]

Request from: @misti-chan

This is an exchange post for the Abyss request I sent her!

-Margarette is a very interesting person, and will always pay attention to certain things or details. So when they first met you, their attention was immediately drawn to you

-due to how much they have thought about you but never got the chance to speak with you since they’re always busy, they could only create music, new melodies that remind them of you! Their only thoughts were about you. Their fingers glided across the piano, playing soothing melodies as they imagine a friendship with you

-when they finally have enough courage and time to speak with you, they quickly walked around to find you. When they did find you, you were chatting with some friends, but they noticed something was wrong deep down. As your friends left, they went up to you with a careful tone in their voice, asking if you needed anything like they assumed. You pretended everything was fine and didn’t wanna trouble them. They asked if you two can be friends, you were a bit shocked, asking them if they really wanted to be friends with you, so simply? Without a reason?? They nodded and asked again, wanting to get to know you more, you accepted. Thus the friendship began.

-as you both hung out more, they were starting to see you as an important someone, they couldn’t think of anything or anyone else because of you! One of your traits that made you stand out was how much you always try to make people feel comfortable. They honestly felt touched at the gesture and thus, falling for you more.

-they denied their feelings at first, very sure that they don’t fall in love or have a crush on you. But they can’t deny how you made their heart flutter and stomach have butterflies. They want more of the feeling, wanting to be closer to you all the time. Of course, they didn’t want to ruin the friendship either, so they kept it to themselves. To the point where they worry about being too late or early to confess so their thoughts are sometimes a mess😅

-as you two continue to be friends, they would look out for you since they noticed some people take advantage of your kindness. They would be silently eyeing at those people as a warning, if they don’t well…Margarette will have to use other methods.

-the friendship would slowly but steadily progress, you both really are caring for each other yet not willing to confess though…so the obvious hints are very noticeable to everyone around except you two. But they eventually confessed their feelings for you and you gladly accepted them! Official couple announcement!~ :D

-they would definitely be protective over you, not letting anything or anyone negative affect your feelings or your entire being! If they ever hear people (especially close ones) talking behind your back, they’ll definitely subtly hint at you or directly tell you. After that, they’ll personally confront those people to stop talking nonsense about you.

-overall, very sweet and caring to you, a bit protective but genuinely cares about you!✨❤️

A/n: I’m alive and I’m worried about school- too much difficult stuff to learn!! T-T (currently having writer’s block, not in the mood to write anythingggg) I think my whole life is a bit messy but I’ll sort things out to continue to write!

[wrongchose]

Omg omg wait wait.. was that an infection au like your doodles? Genuinely so cool omg if you wanna share more I'd love to hear it

OMGGG MY FIRST ASK I'm so happy. I'm sorry i couldn’t reply earlier but i was a little busy

Basically yess, i posted something about them, before but i wasn't sure if continuing the idea would be appropriate (so angsty) but I will give some details.

I haven't really thought about the origin but I'm sure it would be after s2 finale when the sorcerer is defeated. In this AU the pearls have effects on their sorrounding, and the prolongued interaction with it basically caused this infection.

These people were intoxicated. The stank gas mixed with some other chemicals started to create an infectious sort of stank. Once it enters in their system it will fight to take control of the persons nervious system, the infection is just the persons body reacting to these changes.

When a person enters in contact with it they don’t get instantly "monsterified", this person needs intense negative emotion to turn into monsters and even then they can return to their "normal" state but they will behave indifferent to the world around them, they can show syntoms like: tiredness, headaches, dizziness and numbness the only constant one being strong emotions can alter their perception.

Those who have a more direct exposure to the infection (or a long time with it) tend to behave aggresively and turn into power hungry monsters, these can’t be stopped because the infection is already in their system, also they can't get de-stanked because they don't hold anything dear.

One of the main problems is that; Randy was one of the first people to contract this infection, which eventually transferred to the mask and it came back to life, fortunately he can't do anything since his priority is to protect the user, with such a big threat and the state in that Randy finds himself and together with the magic the mask enters a state of "protection at any cost" which prevents him from taking it off because it is constantly healing him from wounds and the same infection.

The infection affects him the same, but it took a greater toll on him because he's the Ninja and has to keep it together to help every one and find a solution. Btw in this AU the Ninja suit resembles bandages, and the only thing visible is his left eye (funny thought he looks like a mummy now HAHA)

I did skipped some other issues like: The Nomicon and Howard actually having something in common, Theresa and Howard bonding, Debbie being a survivor and the whole "inmortal" Julian thingy but i don't think people are interested in that soo

I had a Doc somewhere explaining the things this crew had to go through but idk if i should give it all or make more doodles about it.

[asher-agere]

HAII!! I’m back again ۹(˒௰˓)۶ I was wondering if you can do some Cg Ranpo with a little that’s anxious about their regression but super duper clingy when they’re small? No rush!! I saw you posted quite a bit today so remember to take some breaks and stuff <33 -⭐️

Happy to hear from you as always ⭐️! Thank you so much! You’re so considerate (╥ ω ╥) For me though writing this stuff is like a break! It’s incredibly relaxing and soothing for me. And so much fun! So don’t you worry. I can absolutely do that! I love caregiver Ranpo hehe

Caregiver Ranpo + Anxious Clingy Little

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✦ Ranpo knows everything. His little one shouldn’t even bother trying to hide anything. He is the world’s greatest detective after all! He’ll recognize that they’re starting to slip before they even notice! He’s super good at avoiding tantrums thanks to that. Before the baby can even process they’re upset, he’s already taking care of the issue!

✦ Ranpo is also amazing with a non-verbal little! He doesn’t need to hear anything to know what they want! He can just tell. Some caregivers might struggle between differentiating different whines. Hungry or uncomfortable? But Ranpo knows! He’ll take note of tummy grumbles, shifting in clothes, drooping of eyes, everything! Plus he thinks all the little whines and babbles sound a little bit different!

✦ His little one gets so many sweets! He’ll be careful they don’t have to much of course. Tummy aches are super yucky (,,>﹏<,,) But as long as they’re not making themselves sick he’ll let them have as much as they want! Taking from his own stash of course. No one else is allowed to touch Ranpo’s stash, but for his baby? Of course! They deserve the best!

✦ Ranpo always encourages games that require thinking! For big kids that can be Rubik’s cubes or puzzles. For a little baby all he asks is that they draw not just color! Gotta keep those creative juices flowing to get super smart like he is!

✦ Anxious little one? Yeah… Not with Ranpo! He wouldn’t even give them a chance to be anxious. The second he notices anything he’s explaining to them how amazing they are! They can just have an off-handed thought bad about themselves, suddenly here comes Ranpo to the rescue! “Y’know you’re awesome right? The cutest baby in the world. Wanna come to my desk for some candy?”

✦ He’s pretty convinced that candy fixes everything, to be fair candy is awesome! Crying baby? Sounds like they need a lollipop! Fidgeting with their hands and stuff? Have a handful of candy! Candy can fix any problem that might pop up!

✦ Ranpo would love a clingy little though! I don’t think he’d be super strong, but he’s strong enough to pick up his little one! For a short period of time at least. He’ll happily run around with them, off to solve some mysteries with the Ultimate Detective and the Mini Detective! Aka the best duo ever. If anyone doubts that fact he’ll explain why they’re wrong! Accompanied by the helpful babies babbles of course

✦ Pet names with Ranpo are super sweet! (Haha sweet, get it? I’m so funny) There’s some classics “Honey” “Sugar” “Sweet Thing” Ranpo can also have some pet names that would be considered negative? But he says them with love! “My little Dummy” “Dumb dumb” “Tiny brain” The self confidence never wavers! Oh oh I also think he’d say like “You’re so cute I could gobble you right up!” Then do the thing where he pretends to eat his baby Σ(°Δ° ꪱꪱꪱ) It tickles a whole lot!

✦ If for any reason Ranpo has to set his baby down he’ll whine just as much as they do! Even if he’s just setting them down to grab a snack, all the way to the counter then all the way back they’ll be hearing “Ughhhh It’s no fairrrr. I just want to cuddle my little baby! Why are the snacks so far away! It’s very rude. Don’t you think Sugar?” He expects babbles in response! He doesn’t wanna just be talking to himself of course!

✦ He’ll always remind his baby how much he loves them! Always always always! It’s part of his strategy to stop the anxiety before it starts! He says how much he loves them all the time! While they’re playing, watching a show, sitting down to eat. No occasion is to small to remind his baby of his love for them!

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I feel so productive! I’ve posted what, 6 things today? ໒꒰ྀིᵔ ᵕ ᵔ ꒱ྀི১ I’m doing so good! I enjoy writing so much! And I’m so proud of the things I write too hehe. Have a wonderful amazing day everyone! Even though I’ve probably said it like 5 times by now- That means have 5 amazing days!

[brsb4hls]

Thank you for your reply! I’m going to try to have low expectations while also being a little optimistic. A few comments of Rolin and other writers give me some hope, but I was disappointed after the lack of fallout after s02e05. I was hoping it would result in some interesting dynamics changes and more character stuff for all invoked (outside of DM as well). The last few episodes felt a bit overstuffed and packed to me, even as it concerned Louis and Armand which was a shame. I’m happy they prioritised Claudia’s story though - even though it broke my heart!

Honestly, if there isn’t anything interesting in regard to DM, or Daniel, Louis and Armand separately I’ll probably stop watching. I’m definitely in the minority on here, which is good, but I just don’t find Lestat interesting. Not for any moralizing reason or anything, I just don’t vibe with him. Happy for his fans though who have been waiting, and who knows maybe I’ll be won over?

I’m hoping that Rolin saying years ago that DM fans shouldn’t worry means that he does understand to some extent that people want to see something personal and screwed-up between them. Cause we haven’t yet, if we are being real. I felt disheartened when they skipped the turning and Rolin describing that mere fact as DM. Cause if nothing else DM is the chemistry/dynamic/interactions between those two characters. So yeah, I’ll have low expectations but try to be carefully optimistic. And yes, I’m happy so many are creating fun fan works! Thanks for hearing me out!

Well, I know I'm more on the negative side, I can't help it, I'm a virgo ;).

But who knows, maybe I'll eat my words.

You are not alone in not being into Lestat, I've seen quite some posts already, but there is no way around him in this franchise, since he is the chronicle's main character basically.

I get not being too exited about watching, I was actually a bit bored by season 1, but I wasn't too impressed with the first book either.

Adding Armand this early and prominently was what kept me watching and the shift in tone in season 3 really works for me personally (I like the show better when it's outright clowning.)

So far the show was quite good with giving the ensemble cast decent storylines and recognition, so even if Lestat is the main focus, Daniel will still be there and Armand has yet to get into unginged gremlin mode.

I think we will get at least crumbs there.

And maybe they will revisit the turning with a surprise.

Daniel's vamp reveal was a classic horror movie shock thingy, that wouldn't have worked if we saw the turning. So that was the reason it wasn't shown.

If they revisit it will depend on the dynamic of seasn 3 tho.

I don't wanna rain on anyone's parade really, I just like to speculate and personally have a bit of love/hate relationship with the show.

I love parts and I dislike parts.

But I'm still exited about how three will turn out.

Let's hope there's something for everybody.

And if there isn't, we will at least have tons of memes.

[ransolm]

Hi all,

I haven’t been very active on Tumblr, nor have I been much of a political voice here; however, I have some insight to share…

In early 2023, I worked—albeit briefly—on Capitol Hill in the U.S. By no means was I a senior staffer, but I do have some brief, hopefully helpful, advice. (To be completely transparent, I was an important senior republican’s staffer—I am not a republican nor right-leaning and never have been. This time for me was entirely meant to gain experience on my resume and earn university credit.)

(I do not mean for this post to offend anyone, I just hope to provide some context when it comes to US congressional processes, and, hopefully, provide some advice when dealing with red representatives.)

When it comes to reaching out to your representatives: don’t stop, but know it doesn’t necessarily mean you’re making a difference (at least in red states):

When disgruntled constituents reach out (either via calls/mail/fax) it’s logged on an online database but typically discarded and shallowly acknowledged by staffers (also only constituents are acknowledged by that office—don’t call out of state representatives,, they don’t care and won’t log it ((also it’s extremely annoying and clogs the phone lines; out of state correspondence will mostly be thrown in the trash)).

When staffers say they’ll let *insert politician* know about the caller/emailer/faxer stance, it’s by that online database. They’re not lying but also not necessarily telling the truth: most politicians don’t care to look on that database, but they have access to it. Politicians are only aware of their constituents concerns when it’s aligning with their political party or REALLY concerning (and I mean if it goes against their political party’s ideology or donor funds).

If you really wanna go for the politician’s throat, go for the money. They are funded by super PACs or large state corporations. Boycott them/expose them/do whatever you have to do to interrupt or pause donations. Politicians only care about what their donors and political party care about.

If you go to their office to complain straight to a politician and cause a ruckus/protest/demonstration, staffers will likely call security/police on you (at least in DC office buildings they will). Keep in mind, politicians aren’t usually just sitting around in their office; meetings are happening between staffers, lobbyists, constituents, and/or advocates. If the politician is there, their office is WAYYY back behind the staffers and likely not even within earshot of anything. Any demonstration will be disrupted and dispersed by police (in DC it’s capitol police). Unfortunately, like I said, any disruptions/demonstrations at such offices will likely cause annoyance among staffers (from my experience), and if politicians hear about it, it’ll most likely be because meetings were disrupted. Overall, it’s a negative experience and will be brushed away.

If you do want to go the solo route and continue to contact your representatives, please stay cordial to staffers. If you become combative, rude, aggressive, or belligerent, staffers can and will put you on a do not answer and/or do not correspond list. Also, as I was a junior staffer just trying to get experience, having callers verbally abuse you on the phone is NOT it. If you call in, do not insult the staffer. It’s rude and, quite frankly, disgusting. We’re humans too, and most of us just want a pay check plus experience. Senior staffers rarely take phone calls, and swearing at the staffer will not get you a phone call with your representative period.

If you have any questions about my experience/observations/advice(?), please DM me or comment. I’m not used to posting much on Tumblr, so I apologize if this is scuffed—I just want to help provide some behind the scenes context to your representatives.

I stand with Ukraine. I stand with Palestine. I stand against genocide.

[toxiccrybabyart]

Cleo De Nile you’re so beguile, even though you act so vile~!

Cleo has always had elements that, bug me. I love her character, but, some her design choices were, um… choices.

Just like every other G1 post, this is not a dig towards or in reference to G3. I do t want to hear anything negative about G3, this is not the place. Go comment on official monster high posts and leave us artists alone.

This one was both very fun and also very stressful for me. I always get stressed designing cultural characters, I don’t wanna be that asshole who makes something stereotypical and offensive. If I’ve done anything wrong please do let me know, I am always open to nicely worded criticism! That being said, onto my usual design ramblings.

You’ll notice pretty quickly I ended up redesigning her outfit again, that was because she didn’t look rich or mummy enough in my original, in my opinion.

You’ll also probably notice that Cleo’s skintone has changed. I have never been a fan of people designing every ancient Egyptian as a light skinned, especially the girls. Egyptians lived in Africa, and if you look at their hieroglyphics, a lot of them were dark skinned. That’s not to say they were all dark skinned but it’s very annoying that almost every depiction of Egyptians, especially girls, are light skinned. Other than that, i changed her eye color to a golden brown because the blue really bugged me for like no reason. Her hair stayed roughly the same I just made it longer. I also gave her mummy wrapping around her eye, because I thought it’d be cool.

As for her outfit, I really struggled initially, but the second one turned out really cute. I changed the golden strand to golden braids, and gave her the mummy wrapping jumper back, just in shorts form this time. I added more jewelry and did my best to make it apparent that she is rich with all the gold. I tried to keep the blue minimal while still giving it a chance to shine. Over all this second design is very cute and I am very proud of myself.