#sorry apparently i wrote a novel
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Okay, sorry.
But.
Like.
This is beautiful?
It makes my soul shake.
[CW: talk of child abuse, foster care in this paragraph. Nothing graphic, but feel free to skip this paragraph] I had a Real Shitty Childhood that involved so many different kinds of abuse it's a wonder I actually survived. My family was living in campsites and shitty, roach laden motel rooms where I was raising my two younger siblings while my mother was out doing who-knows-what. We were placed into the foster system when I was 13, where I stayed until the day I turned 18. I was then kicked out onto my ass and basically told (as all foster kids who "age out" here in the U.S. are told) to "figure it out and be an adult," though they never taught us *how* or what it means to adult properly.
I had no real family to speak of. The younger siblings that I was raising were separated from me when we entered the system - they were sent all the way across the country. I hadn't seen them in 5 years (the United States are really fucking massive, as countries go), and we had naturally grown apart.
I'm now in my mid thirties.
All of the queers in my life across the years that taught me things about myself-
staring with the slightly-older-than-me-dyke (who turned out later, in adulthood, to be a transmam, bless him) in my first foster group home who taught me how to love me for me, and accept my queerness-
every one of them holds a special place in my heart. They do speak to me, hold my hands across the years, across the space.
Some of them, well, most of them, really... they, that is, I have no idea where they are, what became of them. That doesn't change the enormity of the impact they had on my life, how each one of those interactions shaped who I am as a person today.
I want to tell you a story.
After I left that group home, the foster system, after I Became An Adult, I went out and found a job. Then another. Then another.
By the time I was 20, I had my own 2 bedroom, 2 bathroom apartment/flat, and three jobs. I was never late on a single payment, all of my bills were paid, in full, every time. More money than I'd ever had, more than I knew what to do with.
The American Dream™️
My door was always open. It was the safe haven I never had. Anyone I met that needed a space to be themselves in, a space to feel their feelings, a space without judgements or scorn, was safe there. I literally did not lock the door, not once (the area that I lived in had a high crime rate, so leaving a front door unlocked was not usual). It never became an issue, somehow.
It was mostly younger queers that needed an escape, a temporary reprieve from their oppressive, conservative families, that came by.
On one occasion, one of those teens was kicked out of their house for being transgender. They stayed with me until we could figure out something long-term for them.
Sometimes, people would come by to sit on my back porch and just need to be quietly near someone while they silently processed things.
I felt like I was helping people, but I don't think I really got it at the time. The long-term (positive) consequences of what I was giving to people.
I was miserable. I was lonely, my soul was hungry.
I let everyone know that I had made a big life choice, that I would be leaving in a month. I left my jobs, gave up my place, donated most of my things and money, and just... left.
I didn't have a destination. I just... went. I traveled the country. I was filthy and homeless and full of wonder. I saw amazing things and met the most inspiring people. Every one of them was also filthy and homeless.
It was an experience! I'd been obsessed with the book Neverwhere by Neil Gaiman for several years at that point, and the parallels that I experienced during that time were really something. Most people really don't see you when you're filthy and homeless. I digress, that isn't really part of the story, just an interesting thought I had at the time
Anyway, during this time traveling, I never asked for money. I kept with me and held up for all to see a scrap of cardboard on which I wrote a single word in permanent marker.
"Smile."
As passers-by walked on (busy in their lives, always in a rush to get to work, to the shops, to anywhere), I'd ask them not for pocket change but for smiles.
I'd say things like, "Would you spare a smile," "Can I borrow a smile? I'll give it right back," "can you part with a smile," and other, similarly cheesy one-liners.
Generally, people would do one of three things: ignore me completely, hand me pocket change in a hurry, or grin from ear to ear.
One person held a hand in my face, saying something like, "No, I don't have anything."
I was in Kansas on one particularly rainy night, sitting under a shop awning on main street with a couple of other travelers that I'd met that day. It was about 11:00 (23:00) or so at night.
A car drove up and parked at the curb in front of the shop. A middle aged man stuck his head out the window and asked if I was the one asking for smiles earlier that day. I informed him that I was indeed. In lieu of a reply, he waved me over to the vehicle. I looked over and my new friends and shrugged, getting up.
I tucked my hand into my pocket, curling my fingers around the handle of my pocket knife, just in case.
I trotted out into the rain and stood nearish the driver's door. He told me that last week, he'd gotten terrible news from his doctor. Something malignant, inoperable. He'd been in a state, alternating between morose, dazed, and angry at the world.
He said that earlier today, he happened to pass my bit of sidewalk, and I asked him for a smile. He told me that my smile was so full of light and love that he couldn't help but smile back. And he meant it, that smile.
After leaving that interaction with the stranger on the street that only asked him to smile, he started to think for the first time since The News. All day, in fact.
He told me that it helped to change his perception, back to something more similar to how he saw the world before The News, but a bit brighter.
He said that he felt a little less mortal, a little less morbid, a little better, a little brighter.
He said that what I "gave" him meant the world to him. He thanked me.
That impact, the brightness, might have worn off the next day, or possibly he was just lying about all of it, or maybe it stayed just a little bit brighter for him. Who knows. I never saw him again after that night.
We have no idea how many lives we touch just by being ourselves.
By offering a genuine loving smile to a stranger.
By offering a hug to that young queer who is just now trying to figure their shit out, whose conservative family would leave them homeless if they knew.
By offering a safe space, even virtually, to people who need it.
By sharing our own story, embracing our queerness, our weirdness, our *otherness,* in public spaces (those who it is safe to do so).
I think every single person to ever exist on this planet has changed the world, even if they "only" changed the world of one person.
The smallest, most seemingly insignificant actions or words can have a massive impact on those around us.
I think this fandom really has that... that... that spark? That something.
This past year(ish) has been a nightmare for me (that story is for another time), and this fandom, specifically the GOAD community over on r/goodomensafterdark truly pulled me out of it.
I feel like ME again, after over a year of having me torn from me. I'm feeling again, I'm creating art again, I'm connecting again.
This space is so full of love and light and queers, and I see a lot of those little moments, those little things that will undoubtedly be another hand to hold across the years, across space.
Thank you to every single person who has ever been one of those hands to anyone.
We all need a hand now and then.
ik i said i was gonna sleep but then fanfic and my cat nemesis screaming. anyways thinking about how ever since i was a teen ive not wanted to have kids but wanted to foster teens cause id be too scared to fuck a kid up but my set of skills has always been on track to being that of someone good at fostering teens.
and like. idk being maggot granddyke has rlly scratched that itch? especially with the idea of maggot summer camp? i am so so so full of care. being able to teach and help and support. this is all stuff i always wanted to do. this is what i was trying to do school to. and im so grateful that i get to.
i think a lot about this elderly dyke when i worked at an old folks home who toasted me when i told her how honoured i was.
i think about the kids at my high school who tomorrow afternoon are having a st patricks day party with my mom because she is one of the adult supervision and how i started that pride club nine years ago and how having a legacy at 24 is beautiful and terrifying
i think about my roommates when i moved into my current place who were like seven and ten years older than me and declared themselves my parents, at a time when i was freshly out of inpatient and floating at best
i think about the actor at sleep no more, and me crying from the beauty of the connection of queerness
i think about a friend of mine who was a youth leader at my congregation when i was in high school who i thought was nonbinary when i first met them. they didnt realise until quite a bit later. they are one of my dearest friends now
i think about the only time i went to summer camp, a week of leadership camp. it was the first place nobody knew my birth name. where i used just they/them pronouns. it was the first place i learned of the beauty of physical platonic intimacy, where we would all cuddle, or be close while playing cards or reading my immortal
i think of all of us holding hands across the years and the time and the space. in my heart and my mind there is a hangmans tree, from peter pan. the inside is all hollow and infinitely large and there is space for all those i love.
in my soul we are at summer camp and i am yearning so deeply for that to be real in whatever way i can make it
#we all need a hand#i have no idea if the op was GO or not but mine is#sorry apparently i wrote a novel#good omens#queer#queer community#goad#good omens after dark#community#gomens#GOblins unite#idk how to tag am i doing this right#must do that's how they hear other ducks#foster system#foster kids#homeless#abuse tw#child abuse#it's not graphic just mentioned#neverwhere#nonbinary#trans
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the villainess flips the script is a really fun manhwa with gorgeous art and my wonderful son luca who is a little bitch who i love so much BUT i will say. the family tree situation as the story has gone on makes my head hurt
#luca buddy im sorry ur family tree has at least one circle in it#somehow the most. ethical? incest? his parents were unknowing um. second cousins? hold on i need to work this out#are they second cousins or are they first cousins once removed. i need to consult charts#I THINK they were second cousins. lets go with that. okay so they were second cousins who didnt know they were second cousins#accidentally having a drunken one night stand and thats how luca came to be. no personal relation and apparently risk of like#genetic issues goes down with second cousins. so i guess its like. the most um. 'ethical'? it could possible be. but still :(#but also luca love interest is his second cousin too maybe? the kid of his blond great uncle???? i dont know man#all so the main character can turn out to be secretly royalty orz TOO COMPLICATED too complicated#although i guess this is how a lot of historical royal and noble families were tho. a bit circular.#that is something i would change tho if i wrote this. first of all i would make judith his bio mom instead of pretending#because i think a fl who had a drunken one night stand the dead playboy brother of her LI is just really interesting LOL#but also i would just like. remove her relation to the royal family entirely#but thats me personally. i find the main character finding out about secret royal blood trope suuuuper boring LOL#but it is common in stories like this so i deal. but in this case i would absolute strike out that plotline. maybe give it to#luca instead like make him look oddly like his great grandma and make the former king obsess over him instead#we'd still get a lot of the same plot beats because of judiths relation to him but just without the loopy family tree JKSDJHDKs#ALSO also i would make lucas relationship with rudiger stronger. NOT SAPPIER like the original in universe novel i like the difference#but i would make them closer in like a shitty uncle who sucks that you hang out with anyway and the shitty nephew u lovingly bully#sort of way. if that makes sense. one problem i have with a lot of villianess stories that have a kid in it is when the love interest like#doesn't have much of a relationship with the kid. i think its lame. i want them to be CLOSE not just like mild coworkers#but thats just me. thats just me#despite all i just said i still really like it. rudiger is cute luca is my baby boy who i love so much and judith is so silly and i love he#great characters even if i would personally alter their relationships
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I've already analyzed "Wonderland" by Big Country and I am not going back to edit it with this new thought that just came into my head earlier when I got it stuck in my head (inspired by this version of it; for some reason, because of how Stuart Adamson introduces it), but I realized that another interesting facet of "Wonderland" is that, in the most famous/well-known reference to it per Alice in Wonderland, wonderland is a place imagined by a child, and it otherwise certainly holds childish connotations. Thinking of that made me further realize how relevant the final verse and pre-chorus is, "With innocence within ourselves/We sing the same old song/And you will take my hand/And make believe it's wonderland." But it's also interesting in that final verse because, at the beginning, it deals with literally such dark, adult realities - "You still remember other days/When every head was high/I watched that pride be torn apart/Beneath a darker sky" - and it's resolved by this mobilizing offer to return to (or more like: to bring back) childish innocence in order to break the cycle of these dark realities. Because technically, that's also what he's asking of the person he's singing to, like in the second verse: "If you could hear what I must hear/Then nothing would replace/The fifty years of sweat and tears/That never left a trace/But when I look at you/I see you feel the same way too" and who he's ultimately asking to escape to wonderland with. It's kind of funny, though, because that all reads as very naïve - like 'Yeah, hey, if we all just pretended to have the same innocence we once had as children we could get along better and make more progress creating the future/reality we want instead of refusing to learn from or acknowledge the past so that our current reality is in some cases worse than ever before' - and yet it's also rather meta because it could also, therefore, still not be taken seriously (like, how often are children taken seriously to begin with!?), and I definitely think that Stuart Adamson intentionally wrote it that way. There is another point for Stuart Adamson's genius!
#crystal visions of lilies in the valley#why did the simple words 'I'll just say this: Wonderland' inspire me to write so much? 🫣#lyric analysis#I also realized a bit ago after reading someone else's analysis of ''Wonderland'' that apparently it's viewed as a love song?#and um...it could be the asexual in me who may or may not exist but that thought literally never occurred to me.#either way I certainly would not view ''Wonderland'' strictly as a love song. I think it transcends that tbh...#whether dear Stuart Adamson ever intended that or not. but that could definitely just be my bias. *shrug*#SORRY THAT I WROTE A WHOLE OTHER NOVEL ABOUT THIS SONG and I barely said anything new either. ._.#h e l p m e I love this song too much I think
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Hello! haven't sent a message in a while, but hope you have been enjoying a nice weekend \^o^/ oh and i saw u mentioned donuts a bit ago and was curious what ur fav kind is (personally i can't resist a good bavarian cream). Also unrelated but have you ever seen the show mushishi? I'd recommend it if you haven't. okay that's all have a good night! ╰( ̄ω ̄o)
omg hii!! my weekend was ok had a good saturday and a not so great but over all ok sunday 👍 cramps kicked my ass and i stayed in bed all day yesterday but thats ok. i dont feel much better now but i am going to bed early tonight just to get some rest lol
today both my professors complimented my writing tho!!! my art history professor mentioned in class that I had written a really good paper and my writing history professor said he likes how i insert myself into my writing and how i'm not afraid of being candid when writing.. he was like i love when writers are vunerable, you really feel like youre getting to know them ( this was after he had us read out the essays about a city's birth and the indigenous people who lived there before... and I wrote half about that and half about living in richmond and how I teetered on the verge of becoming an alcoholic and how I chainsmoked out my apartment window and was extremely lonely to the point of hanging out at the robert e lee memorial alone in the dew covered grass at 3 am just to see the stars and how it grounded me when I was feeling especially fragile and untethered and how I would adorn my eyelashes in glitter to create my own personal constellations when i didnt feel like walking 30ish minutes to get the the racist statue LOL)
wow i got sidetracked real bad lmao.... as for donuts, lately I've been a plain old glazed girly. theyre basic but idk whatever. I used to hate them because of sensation of extremely sticky fingers make me feel like im get electrocuted but a bunch of tiny nails just underneath my skin... but now i like ok with it bc i love them so much. at the farmers market theres these weird big and skinny ones that are so fucking good. I'm really craving one right now. ....... i love bavarian cream too but I havent had a decent one in a depressingly long time.
ive never seen mushishi but ive added it to my list! ty!!
#norm.allie#asks#anonymous#my art history professors was like ok im noting going to “out” this student#but one of yall wrote a very good and insightful essay about this#i think i over share bc how little I talk to people and how i long to be seen LOL#like i didd it again just now#looked up my writing professors birthday and hes also a pisces.... lmao#im constantly writing like *teen valley girl voice* dear diary..........#im constantly writing at least here like that one andrew garfield interview where he talks about soulmates#and doesnt take a breath at all LOL#in my school papers I use em dashes and other punctuation to help with the flow of it#god sorry for the novel i just love to talk apparently#college owns
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matters of the heart — Nanami K.
summary: finding out your ex-boyfriend wrote a novel detailing your relationship isn’t how you expected this week to go and to make matters worse everyone on the internet now thinks your “character” is a total bitch. you decide to pay your ex a visit, but can you do that without succumbing to your natural urges? well, no!
tags: 18+(MDNI/blank blogs) slight porn with plot, oral (f! receiving), brief nipple sucking, daddy kink, creampie, i guess nanami is a bit toxic in this lol, nanami might also be a bit ooc in here
to the moaners: has this been sitting in the draft for about 3-4 months? yes! but happy birthday month, kento 😚. artwork by @/_3aem (twt); @ryomens-vixen (this was the fic I mentioned a while back) word count: 5.6k (yuck), I don't really like this
I’m going to kill him, that was the only thing on your mind once you closed out of the novel. Normally, your weekends were spent relaxing with a fruity bubble-gum colored cocktail but today was different. Shoko called your phone at exactly 9:26 am claiming it was time she divulged some news to you. At exactly 9: 28am, she sent you an online copy of a book titled, “Matters of the Heart” and told you it was nothing but a two or three hour read and then to call once you finished.
The book had a slow start and it seemed pretty average, just any old love story. Lately, anything was getting published and it seemed that was the case here — wait, you paused your reading and sat up straight. No. Just no. Something just clicked for you which led you to completely start over from page one.
The moment you finished, at exactly 1:01 pm, you grabbed a salmon colored low cut shirt and light washed jeans, slipped on your white shoes and hurried to get into your car. You didn’t need to call her phone because you were going to talk to her face to face; this situation warranted a real conversation. It was nothing but a 17 minute drive to Shoko’s house, so when you arrived at exactly 1:18 pm, her door was already open. “They’re bashing me, Shoko. Fucking bashing! How could he do this to me?” Were the first words that flew out of your mouth, holding your phone close to her face so that she could see the reviews.
“Well, it’s not like anyone would know it’s you.” She yawned, handing you a cup of water – probably because of how crazy you looked – before she ushered you to a seat on the couch. A golden brown blanket was lazily thrown on the seat, which she hurried to move. You sat down and faced her with a look of what Shoko could only describe as pure sadness. She had seen you like this many times before, all because of one person.
“You did.” You sniffled with an eye roll, you couldn’t help but feel uncertain. Reading this book only brought back more uncomfortable feelings towards the breakup and him. You thought that you were over him and the memories that the book produced made you question everything. One question remained which is: Why?
She giggled drily. “Hey, I read all his works. Pseudonym or not. He can’t hide from me. Plus, I know you both and everything that went on. I was there too, remember?” She mumbled the last part. “Maybe this was his way of coping?”
“It’s been years… and I heard he’s announced a sequel. Shoko, a SEQUEL! It’ll be released later this year.” You spoke in a shaking watery voice while she rubbed your back in an attempt of comfort. Your mind could only think of what the reactions would be to your character in the sequel… insecurities that you never knew were there flooded your mind.
“There was enough material for a sequel? I thought he covered everything…” Shoko rubbed her chin and looked deep in thought. You just stared at her, she couldn’t be serious. “Sorry, ignore me.” She shook her head ignoring your stare.
“Do I even confront him over this? A-and how would that make me look, like I still check on him right? I’ll look crazy and bitter… which apparently I am. Oh and I’m bitchy and a ‘total cunt’ as they’re putting online.” He didn’t know just how much you changed, he missed your growth. Rubbing your eyes, you ask:“Why did you tell me about this? What made you take so long… I just don’t understand.”
“Well, at first… I didn’t think you’d care.” Moving a strand of her nut-brown hair out of her face, she continued. “Then about a month ago, I decided it was right to tell you, just in case someone else pieced it together.”
“Gojo read it then, huh?” You mentally cringed at the thought. It was the only person you could think of who’d be so crude about it. He knew how damaging the breakup was for you but not as bad as Shoko knows. Now, you’re just grateful that she told you before he did.
“Yep, so I figured that I had to tell you before he did.” She clicked her tongue. “But let’s just calm down before you make any rash decisions on how to handle this.”
“He wrote a fucking duality series about me, our relationship, our sex life and you want me to calm down? Are you listening to yourself? This is a serious matter. I am being called a bitch, a slut and more on Goodreads and multiple websites, reviews, etc. and he didn’t even have the audacity to give me a heads up. You had to call me.” You let out an unladylike snort.“Why couldn’t he stick to his mystery novels? Wasn’t he doing good at those?”
“Writer's block.” Shoko said in a singsong-like voice. “He hadn’t written a mystery book since you two broke up and then… he alerted his supporters he wanted to switch things up and then… that was that. Ladies loved it, a big hit. By the way, if you two were really fucking like that I need to se—”
“Shoko, now is not the time!” Your face felt hot all over, your mind racing. “I just can’t believe this.” You wrapped your arms around your body and squeezed, giving yourself one big squeeze. It was hard not to cry but you could feel it all in your throat.
“I’m sorry. If it makes you feel any better, I don’t think his intentions were to make you feel bad.” She hugged you to her chest, pressing a small kiss to the crown of your head. “I think he still loves you. I mean, isn’t this book proof? After all these years, he wrote about you.”
“I’m sure he moved on by now.” You whispered, your eyes growing tired already and the day had barely started. “I just need to lay down. I need to rest.” Your mind seemed to finally grow calm and your breathing steady, a small hiccup now in your throat but with a gulp of water, you were better.
“Just stay here. I don’t trust you to be alone right now.” Shoko’s voice drowned out as sleep overtook you, you could only feel her warmth as she held you and honestly it was all you needed at this moment, Shoko always made you feel safe and you couldn’t thank her more than enough for that right now as you slept.
You were a light sleeper, it was always something that Nanami pointed out about you. He always said how he felt like he couldn’t leave the room while you slept even if it was to use the bathroom afraid to wake you. He knew how important sleep was to you and he’d risk having a bladder infection if you got all 8 hours that you required. Nanami was sweet and caring like that.
You didn’t think you’d break up with him ever. He was the one for you and he always made that clear. He pampered you and even after the breakup – though you didn’t need it – he left you with a check for five thousand dollars, saying it was for his half of the lease for the next few months.
The breakup was brutal for you. You almost quit working entirely. Shoko was the only person you’d confined into and the only friend you left to check in on you especially when you didn’t want to leave the house. She brought you groceries and helped you shower until you finally were able to get up again.
Though it was hard to believe, it was Nanami who broke up with you. You thought it was a joke, a cliche little joke.
“Baby, I’m not joking.” His voice was quiet and husky, he spoke as if he was going to cry. “I just need some time to myself. I need to figure out if this is what I want. You don’t have to wait for me, you just keep on living your life and being happy. But… I think it’s time we let this go.”
You didn’t cry in front of him. You didn’t cry when he packed his things up. You certainly didn’t cry when he shut the door, leaving his key on the table because you knew he was joking. He had to be. But when you called him and his number was disconnected and you were blocked on any form of social media… that was when you broke down and cried.
It happened out of nowhere. You overanalyzed every aspect of your relationship for where you went wrong. You wrote down every conversation you could remember and dissected it word by word. You watched every video and picture you had of the two of you looking for a bit of regret or anything on his face. You read every text message, looking for malice. He said he needed time to figure out if he wanted this but he always made it clear that he did and even that he was looking forward to having kids together, you two had even gone ring shopping months ago.
You didn’t sleep and when you did, it was only for 4 hours and sometimes barely that. Your heart had an ache in it and the tears wouldn’t stop. You could only think why wasn’t I enough?
When you opened your eyes Shoko was still holding you and a small smile grew on your lips. “Thank you Shoko.” You knew if you could count on anyone, it was always going to be her. She was the one who pieced you back together and made sure that life didn’t destroy you and you couldn’t help but to be grateful.
“Of course. ‘M going to let you spend the night here, okay? Let’s get some takeout and watch your favorite movies, how’s that sound?” She knew the way to your aching heart like the back of her hand.
“It sounds amazing!” You stretched your arms out wide, leaning off of her and sitting up. “Should we start with Uptown Girls or Legally Blonde?”
It took two days before you confronted him. Shoko was adamant about not giving you his address and you were tempted to get it from her phone. But luckily, you wore her down, she was probably tired of you bringing him or his book in every conversation. So now you stood there, nerves washing over you in waves.
The mahogany colored door stared at you – mocked you – and you returned the glare before you knocked on it, hard. This was just a door and you were angry at the person behind said door, not the door itself.
It was almost like he was waiting on you because the door unlocked and opened. He even stepped aside to let you in, quiet. His straw-colored hair was parted differently and he even looked taller or broader – you couldn’t completely tell – but he looked different… seemed different. The atmosphere around him made your stomach clench and it made you mad; why did it feel like only you suffered from the breakup? Here he was – strong and tall – and you were nothing or rather the same.
“You wrote a romance erotica novel about our relationship?” It was what you practiced saying before you got out of your car – making sure your voice didn’t tremble – this time, it didn’t.
“Well, hello to you too. Even after three and a half years, you still like to get straight to the point.” He grinned, putting a hand on your back to guide you to a seat on his couch. “I must ask, what makes you think it’s about you?” He does a slight laugh and raises his brow.
“We have the same initials, almost the same name. Are you kidding me?” You retort, folding your arms across your chest. You tried to ignore the fuzzy feeling in your chest that occurred when you heard his voice after so long, hearing him and seeing that damned smile… your nose scrunched up.
“Sorry, I just didn’t know you kept up with me… with my books…” He muttered, glancing your way, a demure look in his amber eyes. “Should I be flattered?” Almost in an instant, he turned on a slight cockiness to himself, though his body language showed his nervousness – his thigh bouncing a bit and his fingers tapping on the couch handle. A light sense of relief filled your system knowing that you weren’t the only one being affected by this.
“I don’t.” You inhaled deeply. “Shoko told me about it and then, I checked it out.” Fiddling with your fingers and even picking at your nails, that was your tell all sign of nervousness and right now you were engaging in it more than ever before.
“I wanted to tell you or rather, to ask you. I know you got the voicemails I sent last year…and then you kept dodging my calls.” He tells you, you could feel his eyes on you – or more so your fingers… the nasty habit that he had finally got you to stop all those years ago rushing right back in an instant.
“Writing a book to trash me and our relationship… to make you look like some sort of… ugh, like you’re so amazing and I’m just shit. Yeah, that certainly got my attention.” If you were coming off bitchy or rude right there, you couldn’t care less especially when there were worse things that you could’ve said or even could’ve done at this moment. You really wanted to slap him.
“Is that all you got out of it?” He asks with his head low, almost as if he was admitting defeat or as if he couldn’t believe you came up with something so trivial.
“Was there anything else to get?” You counter, shifting your body towards him. Maybe it was best that you sat down and actually listened to the author and his interpretations of his work.
“How about that I love you regardless of any flaws… how about I find your stubbornness and attitude sexy and how I knew this breakup would be good for you. I was holding you back. I mean, I heard you got promoted 3 times since we broke up… I just felt like I was changing you, hindering your growth. I needed to reflect on myself and this book helped that.” He tapped his fingers against his thigh, yet another sign of his anxiousness. “Believe it or not, I still care about you. No matter what happened between us.”
“What happened? You mean when you decided to just leave? You could've told me everything you just told me and I would’ve understood better. We could’ve talked and came to a compromise. You don’t understand what you put me through after it.” You were close to tears but you straighten your posture and sniffled, it was best not to think about what happened before. “I just needed a bit of closure too, I guess that’s why I came. I just was caught off guard. You could’ve knocked on my door or something, forced me to answer… forced me to talk.”
He met your eye for the first time since you came over. “You wouldn’t have listened,” He huffs. “Didn’t I mention how stubborn you are? Plus, I meant what I said. I needed time to myself and I think we both did.”
“I guess…But Nanami, this book was too much. A letter would’ve been fine if you needed closure, don’t you think?” You see his lips quirk up a bit before he licks them, trying not to laugh it seems.
“My publisher got a hold of some of the documents where I was just going over things, writing here and there. She loved the idea… plus I’m in a contract for six books so I had to put something out soon, it had already been a year.” He told you, sitting his chin on top of his knuckles. “I honestly didn't mean to hurt you. I was writing for fun… reminiscing about us and then later down the line, I realized I was writing because I wanted you to read it, I just didn’t exactly know how to get you to since you were very adamant on avoiding me, which is understandable. But regardless, I didn’t think it’d get on the bestseller list or for the reviews to get so harsh.” He admits, reaching for your hand before his hand froze in midair and he stopped himself, choosing instead to put it behind his head.
“Is there anyway you can stop the sequel from being published then… since you got my attention after all this time?” You asked, putting your most dazzling smile on, hoping to sway him.
“I can talk to my publisher. Everything’s in print and materials are already done… but I’ll try to see if I can stop production.” His adam’s apple bobbles when he does a harsh swallow. “Are we… okay? Do you forgive me?”
The question made you pause. He always made it hard for you to not forgive him; it took one look or a smile and a small explanation and it made it easy to fall in love with him all over again, no matter what he did… it seems. But it made you ask yourself: Were you too easy? Did you really forgive him? It was thoughts like that swirling around the corners of your mind. You wanted to forgive him, he was just writing and telling a story… but it was your story, not just his. Using this for your attention when he could’ve written about anything else, he didn’t have to. Were you just ready to forgive him because you still loved him?
You hadn’t realized how deep in thought you were until you felt the couch dip and even then, your mind was still spirling.“You don’t have to…” His voice brings you out of your thoughts, his body so close to yours that it was getting hard to breathe. He still smelled the same; citrus and woodsy and it was easy to get yourself sucked back in.
“So you can write another book about my stubbornness?” You give a quiet giggle, scooting a bit away from him, seeing him frown from the corner of your eyes. You didn’t want to fall back but he made it all so simple. It was easy and you were already falling back on him and you didn’t need that… Did you?
“Baby…” Your body buzzed and hummed, turning to him with wide eyes. “I’ll do anything I can to make this right. Anything for you to forgive me… If they can’t stop publication, what can I do to make us right?” He was doing more than a gaze, he was full on staring and from how close he was it was hard to avoid.
“Nanami I–” You stopped yourself. You couldn’t really think of anything he could do but you could think of several unhealthy things you could do to ruin your progress on going over him. He had betrayed you and made you a laughing stock so why are you stuck thinking about forgiveness when you should be leaving.
“I never stopped loving you.” His fingers traced up and down your pants but his eyes stayed on yours. “I never thought about anyone but you… I never slept with anyone… it’s always been you. But, I understand what I put you through and I’ll apologize every second until you forgive me…” The blond man who you never saw shed a tear looked more than close to it. “But just please… forgive me.”
“I’m sorry, honest.” He tries again after being met with absolute silence. “Just… let me show you, okay?” His breath tickles your face for a second and when you look into his cocoa brown eyes, you feel everything you once felt again.
Memories of good times dulls out the odd feelings in the pit of your stomach – the confusion and pain – instead are replaced with joy. The trip to Malaysia where he rubbed sunscreen on your entire body and laid back to read a book and you watched as his eyes kept drifting to you while you played in the cerulean water; how you kept begging him to come in until he complied and how eventually in the early hours of the morning when you wanted another dip, he fucked you twice — once in the golden lush sand and another in the cool ocean water.
His face is in your thighs and you couldn’t help but feel better, feeling his breath fanning so close to your pants covered pussy, your body felt scorching hot. He’s grumbling, “Will you let me make it up to you? Will you let me show you how sorry I am?”
You must’ve nodded because he was already unbuttoning your pants and helping you lay back, pulling your shirt up just a bit to see your perky tits – he must’ve remembered how you never wore bras unless you felt it was necessary, which was mainly work or any important events.
He blew a bit on your hardening nipples before he took one into his mouth – playing biting them with a smug look on his face before he began licking around your areolas and kissing around the swells of your breast. He doesn’t say anything but he looks deep in thought as he kisses down your body, his fingers scraping down your sides as he works your pants and your panties all the way down. Bringing his head up for a minute, he looks in your face. “I love you.” He says it simply, heavy emotions swirling in his brown eyes.
Removing your pants and underwear completely from your body, he spreads your thighs and looks over your body – a trimmed low pretty bush sits between your thighs and it makes him smile, he always loved seeing the curled hair on your delicate lower lips. He spreads your pussy, watching the skin stretch with a deep smile on his face. You could feel yourself … the wetness leaking down under your body and it made you cringe, but the way he was staring at you made the insecurities vanish. “All this for me?” He takes a tentative lick before he slurps, clutching your hips. “I know you like to run… but I need you to stay put, got it?” It was hard for you to listen to him, your head already fuzzy and the thoughts swirling around were only about him, nothing more.
Then your body bucks up, “Wait–!” A broken moan escapes your mouth when he presses a soft wet kiss to your clit. Nanami had always been gentle and very careful whenever he ate you out; making sure his tongue was wet enough and that he wasn’t too rough. His tongue was wide enough to make your back arch, your body leaving the couch when it finally hit your clit and he gave you no time to recover before he peeled back the hood, sitting the tip of his tongue there and rapidly flicked at the bud.
Hearing the lewd squelching noises coming from the mixture of your cunt and his mouth made you close your eyes, squeezing them shut tightly. He spits before he licks it up and down your aching slit, nudging his tongue inside only slightly, much to your dismay. You’re gasping every second when more of his tongue slips in and out of your pussy; sliding a bit more each time and it makes your thighs shake. When he finally slips his entire tongue inside of you, curling it just enough that you can feel it everywhere, your legs attempt to close up around his head. “Please– ‘m so… soo–oh…” His fingers join in on the fun and in small sloppy circles he rubs your clit, pressing down on the pearl while his tongue continues flicking inside of you. The split second that you open your eyes, his are already on yours and it was that moment, that made your body tense up and for you to cum.
It happens fast, clear sticky wetness leaks out of you and Nanami still tries to get more of it on his tongue, catching anything that drips and sucking on your folds. “Always so fucking good…” He mutters, spreading you again and smearing more of your slick on his face by shaking his head between your thighs, so that he’s completely covered in you.
When he moves his head, embarrassment comes over you, looking at his wet face… even his forehead was wet and you couldn’t bring yourself to meet his eyes. “Nothing to be embarrassed about, baby but… I’ll be right back, stay wet for me.”
Your heart hammers against your chest, lying there on this now wet couch. You didn’t come over here for this and yet here you are… about to get fucked and really, it was no turning back now. You’d been on dates with men after Nanami but they never lasted past the second date and you certainly hadn’t had sex in a while, but he made you come apart like it was nothing.
But then again, Nanami knew your body… so of course this was a walk in the park for him. It honestly annoyed you right now, you couldn’t even make yourself cum half the time especially these last few years and now, barely an hour here and he has you right where he wanted you… bare and practically back in love with him.
Nanami came back with a fresh face and unbuttoned pants that he was currently pulling down. You clenched around nothing, your mind thinking only of the perfect dick that was going to be coming out of those pants. You licked your lips, this would be the first dick you saw in years and it was his.
His drooling cock slapped his stomach and you swallowed, your mouth felt unreasonably dry. The length of his cock always impressed you, standing tall at seven and a half inches, he shakes with laughter which snaps you out of your daze. “Now let me look at you.” His whispers and even though he already saw you, both years ago and right now, you can’t help but feel hot all over again. He’s staring – drawing his eyes down every inch of your body – focusing on your breast before getting to the stare of the show yet again. He smirks, laying you back down, pressing his body against yours to kiss you.
Your breath was caught in your throat, his tongue still tasted of you and his hands cups your jaw. He’s gentle, his tongue moving around your mouth messily before he stops, saliva breaking apart when he does so. His fingers make a ghostly featherlight touch on your clit that makes you jump, the head of his cock at your entrance. He holds out his hand, close to your mouth. “Spit.” Gathering up some, you spit in the palm of his hand and stroke it along his length, huffing at the sensation.
He pushes in, taking his time to work himself inside of you, a strained expression on his face. Hips pulled back, he focuses more on just the tip of himself fucking you, watching your pussy stretch with just the tiniest bit of resistance. Inching himself inside, you watch his torso flex and he groans, obscene noises plop and plap around the apartment, his heavy cock pushing in and out of you, your toes curling.
“Pussy still mines, right? Didn’t give it away, did you?” You’re struggling to talk - to fucking breathe - your eyes rolling back and your jaw slacked but you babble out a soft ‘no’ which makes him finally thrust in you harder, completely bottoming out. You feel him in your belly, feeling full and embarrassingly wide with him stretching you out, his balls sitting on the crest of your ass before he moves.
He moves you a bit, your bodies flush to each other and he moves his hips in harsh circles, his pelvis so close to your clit. His hands on your calves, he pushes your legs so that they rest on his shoulders, your knees touching your ears makes you tighten up and he groans above you.
“Nanami I-” You call out, eyes closed with pleasure shaking through your core, wetness slapping between the both of you.
“Nanami? No, call me what you used to call me.” His hips slowed down, a whine escaping your lips. His cock dragging inside of your walls, pulling out slowly, awaiting your response.
“Please…don’t slow down, Ken—” before the word even left your lips, his hand slapped your cunt, leaving your legs shaking a bit and your eyes snapping open. Drops of tears run down your cheeks and you sniffle, reaching for him… you couldn’t help but feel so small in his presence.
“Say it.” Then, you knew what he meant. A name that now feels foreign in your brain and even when it leaves your mouth, it comes out in a strange rattled whimper.
“Oh, oh… daddy, ‘m sorry. Please, keep fucking me. It’s so goooood!” He’s grinning before the words leave your mouth.
“Still my good girl huh? Always so fucking good for daddy.” He licks up your neck and it makes you tremble, your tongue lolling out a bit and he moves to suckle on it. “Did you skip over all those sex scenes or did you rub this pussy out to them?” He asks, his fingers digging in the back of your thighs.
You choked out, sobbing, “I did, daddy… But I-I don’t want to remember everything.”
“You don’t remember all the words I used to describe this cunt? This pretty pussy? That changed his life… my life? That made him always crawl back? That made him so fucking hard? The pretty words I used to describe you? To describe how pretty she always looked when he fucked her? How his heart felt like it was going to explode when she looked at him too long because he loved her so damn much?” He’s groaning in your ear, thrusting into you, his depth reaching your g-spot, your pussy spasming and begging for his cum at every word he uttered.
Pumping himself inside, you could see the white creaminess that was on his cock, most likely because of you, he was constantly fucking the cream inside of you, your nails digged into his arms and he moaned at the feeling. Your stomach tightens and you move to push him away, “I’m going to c–cum!” You felt him throbbing inside of you, signaling that he was close too. “Please, cum inside of me… I can’t take it.” You couldn’t stand it any longer, it’s been years and you needed him to fill you up. He stopped for a moment, changing positions so that you’ll be sitting on his lap, grabbing your hips and forcibly bouncing you on his dick, dangerously slow.
Wetness gushes on him as his tip hits you from a new angle, seeing the outline of him in your tummy, he’s stretching you again with each nasty thrust. Each drag of his cock making you go crazy and the aching between your legs continue, your body shaking and both of you moaning loudly and over each other.
Finally, your orgasm rattled and shook your entire body, your pussy sucking him in, milking him for all he’s worth and it makes his body shake and he releases inside of you, trying to stay quiet as his body jerks up, unable to stop himself from fucking you through both of your orgasms.
It’s quiet for a while, just heavy breathing with you laying on his chest. “I love you too…” Your voice is scratchy and your face tear stained. He doesn’t say anything, his cock still pulsing inside of you.
“I know. I love you too, never stopped.”
“Did you at least read the acknowledgements or did you just dive right in?”
“I never read the acknowledgements for books, thought you would’ve remembered that.” You watch him get up, walking around the living room, looking for something. You were both still naked and the entire room smelled of sex.
“I did remember that and when you barged in my door, I already knew that you still hadn’t changed when it came to that. Here, read this part right here.” He brings you over a copy and you run your fingers around the softback cover with a small smile on your face; this silly thing had brought you both back together and right now you could give less than a fuck about those reviews.
Feeling the spine of the book, you open it and can practically smell the scent of an unopened new book. Turning the first few pages, you go to the one page acknowledgment and read it aloud: “She might not read this book. But if she does, by chance. I hope she knows that I still love her.” You wiped your eyes and smiled. “You’re an asshole, you know?”
He lets out a hearty laugh, “I know baby.” Kissing the top of your head, he gets up and grabs his phone from the kitchen counter and you follow him. “I think I have enough material to write a third book now.” He grabs his phone and starts typing, his eyebrows furrowed as if he was deep in thought. Attempting to grab his phone he chuckles and uses his height to his advantage by standing taller.
Standing on the tips of your toes you snort, “Don’t even joke about that!” But a smile takes over your face and he can’t help but smile too.
#jjk x reader#jjk smut#jujutsu kaisen#jujutsu kaisen x reader#jjk x you#jujutsu kaisen smut#jjk#nanami drabbles#nanami kento#jjk nanami#jujutsu nanami#nanami x reader#nanami smut#jujutsu kaisen nanami#kento#nanami kento x reader#nanami kento x y/n#nanami kento x you#nanami kento smut#kento nanami x reader#kento nanami x you#kento nanami x y/n#kento nanami#kento x reader#kento smut#kento x y/n#kento x you#Kento nanami#jjk x y/n#jjk x reader smut
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she knew she shouldn't be teasing him as much as she did, especially with the wedding coming up. it was always a HUGE DEAL when people from other vaults come over, especially this time as his own sister was getting married to one of the people from vault 32. what kind of people were in 32? 31 was always trustworthy and born leaders, and she knows how people in 33 are but the middle vault was a mystery to her. " children are children, and i was always told that when we were younger i was always rambunctious. betty once told me i acted a lot like my father, but i think she might have been trying to have us connect more. " things had been tough since her mother got sick and passed when emma was younger. she was a bit of a handful and her father would chastise her before realizing and apologizing. back then, she didn't understand how the two of them could be related due to how truly different they were. but, betty and steph both told her she was so much like him and to cut him slack. " door holding might be a sacred covenant there but what if the door was part of the plan? like... like, what if the door being opened triggered something and it pulled a string that would fling water at the door, soaking whoever went through? would they get in trouble for not opening the door or for the water trick? "
it's almost laughable how truly opposites the two of them are. norm, the calm and collected one, and emma the impulsive type that rather asks for forgiveness rather than permission. it isn't her fault, though, people always told her she was a lot as a child. when she tried being more like norm, she was looked over as if she wasn't there. she'd rather be in the eye of the overseer and apologizing instead of being invisible in a room of familiar faces. with how little people talked of her mother, she was scared that if she didn't make an impression and impact, she would be forgotten. not talked about unless to be used for a story.
" the worst influence. absolutely atrocious. the prodigal son of bad influence. " well, she wasn't wrong in her playful taunts. he was prodigal and always in the eyes of the others, being the overseers son, he would never be forgotten. he didn't need to work for it, nor does it seem that he wanted the attention. maybe that's why he was named NORM becaused he'd rather be something instead of a nor or nothing. " to insinuate that i should sabotage the wedding of your sister? i respect and fear her too much to try that. if she ever looked at me with disappointment i think i might turn to vapor in that moment. besides, she might be there if i ever get chosen to marry. if i did something for hers, what would she do for mine and yours? "
after the words left her mouth, she realized how it sounded. as if she and him would get married. sure, she would joke about it when they were children, usually because she was following him around like a shadow and egging him on to cause mischief with her. that they would be partners in crime so why not in life? it was always silly and she knew it meant nothing but... maybe it had to do with the fact they were so similar in age so they grew up around one another but emma couldn't help but daydream about a relationship with him--or with chet. he had a nice jaw. pretty to look at. but she was always told to look at lucy for how she should act if she ever hoped to be considered as a candidate. jeepers, why is she thinking about this? focus.
" how are you feeling, with your sister being almost married? what do you think her beau will be like? "
they both knew he had. many times. there's a reason he's at the bottom of the food chain despite being the son of an overseer. he's smart, sure. but not motivated unless there is something worth doing. his father didn't tend to break the rules except when punishing his own children. norm is sure he should have had way more sanctions than he has in his life. "you think thirty-one has that kind of thing? they pride themselves as better than us. smarter. probably have zero crime over there besides who didn't hold the door for each other." not that he knew. thirty-one a carefully guarded secret even by those who had lived there.
it's a silly thing to worry about. a book being stolen could only be inside the vault. the doors never opening without prior authorisation and only between the interconnected vaults. she wouldn't have been able to hide it for long if it ever was an issue. "are you implying i'm a bad influence?" norm isn't insulted by it. more surprised. no one really notices him when lucy or his dad are around. "well, i heard they're making a huge cake for the upcoming wedding. could do something with that."
#feel free to have norm not reciprocate her feelings i realize this is the second reply and i'm talking about feelings#that's kinda just how emma is especially her with people who are friendly towards her#also sorry for the length of the reply i just got back on my laptop and wrote a novel apparently#post ;; para#c: icon;;#v: vault dweller;;#pipboygenius#text ;; pipboygenius
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lotus
pairing : seungmin x gn!reader
summary : how do you save a failing relationship?
wc : 921
cw : established relationships, angst, sadness, a touch of fluff, not proof read
a/n : hehehe ok i ended up getting inspired again! let me know what you guys think!!!! also hehe lotus flowers can represent rebirth/new beginnings btw >:3
wilted petals laid across the counter, the color they once held greying out as the dried edges chipped away over time. the flowers that once blossomed beautifully in its porcelain vase had long died out, the life that once coursed through it left without a trace, leaving behind the depressing, unsightly death of a flower. the few petals that remained clung onto the stem of the flower in a desperate attempt to hold onto life, yet their grip would eventually loosen as it weathered its painstakingly slow demise, signifying the end of its life cycle. their reluctance to let go was pitiful, yet it felt like the bouquet of dying flowers now only mocked you and served as a cruel metaphor of the state of your relationship.
months had gone by, the fiery passion that once ignited the love story you and seungmin wrote had been put out, leaving behind only a trail of ash and soot that covered every inch of your hands. the pages of this novel was slowly ripping at its seams, the book thinning out as you desperately thumbed through it, praying to find a clue on how to rekindle this dying romance. except your touch would leave behind cinders on each page, the words you hopelessly searched through now becoming illegible.
you both had become complacent, completely forgoing the smallest details of maintaining a healthy relationship which ultimately whittled down the foundation of your love. the cracks had become more apparent, the soullessness behind each action was undeniable, and you were both becoming exasperated as you tried to keep up appearances to one another, not willing to admit there was a growing issue that needed to be addressed. they say ignorance is bliss, but the tension between you two hung heavily and was gradually drowning you, and it was about time for one of you break to the surface to catch your breath.
tonight, you and seungmin were sitting across each other at the dinner table, quietly eating the take out food you ordered. it was upsettingly silent, not a single exchange of words and only the sound of your utensils scrapping against your plates could be heard.
what was the point of this anymore? why had you both accepted this new norm without a fight? had you both become use to each others presence? were you both too afraid to face the possibility of loneliness? did he even still love you?
these questions had occupied your mind for months, the number of them growing as the aching feeling your heart once suffered from had slowly become numbing.
should you say something? right now? interrupt the faux peace that you two had become accustomed to?
maybe, maybe not. it was all too daunting to not know where that conversation would leave, but you also no longer wanted to live with never ending misery. something had to be done.
“do you still love me?” you whisper, your voice quivering with trepidation, bracing yourself for his response.
seungmin looks up from his meal, his piercing gaze meeting yours, uncertainty and fear in hiding behind his stoic expression. he lets out a heavy huff, nodding his head as he took in your words, “of course i do. do you still love me?”
“yes, always,” you respond, your face softening at his confirmation, “but… what happened to us?”
he didn’t need you to further explain yourself, the few words you spoke carried the weight of your sadness as he reflected on the state of your deteriorating relationship. “im not sure,” he sighs, “im sorry.”
you swallow thickly as a lump of your emotions manifests in your throat, “im sorry too,” tears begin to prick your eyes, “what do we do?”
“i don’t know.”
“i don’t know either.”
the uncomfortable, familiar silence returns in its place as you each gaze longingly at the other. what was there to do? there was no guide book on how to salvage the skeleton of a relationship, the tendrils of love thinning out as they weakly held your hearts together.
seungmin clears his throat, as if to disperse the tensity in the atmosphere, “do you want to keep trying?”
you bit the inside of your cheek anxiously, “i do, but what if it doesn’t work out?”
“then at least we can say we tried our best,” he hums, mindlessly poking his food with his fork, “i wouldn’t be able to forgive myself if i didn’t try.”
“okay,” you nod meekly, “let’s try again.”
“when was the last time i took you out on a date?” he asks, pain evident in his voice upon making this realization.
“i don’t even remember,” you tearfully answer, looking away from seungmin’s eyes as his began to glaze over with anguish.
“i see,” he whispers to himself with a sniffle, “let’s start there then.” he forces a weak smile, feebly holding onto the bit of hope he rediscovered, “let’s remember why we fell in love in the first place, okay? let’s go to the ice cream shop we went on for our first date tomorrow. how does that sound?”
you look back at him, a touched smile that sent butterflies down seungmin’s abdomen, a smile he didn’t realize how much he missed, “i’d like that very much.”
the very next day, when you woke up to get ready for your date, the withering flowers had be replaced with flourishing lotus flowers. a small note scrawled with seungmin’s handwriting laid next to it:
here’s to a new beginning. i love you.
#cinnamostar writes#seungmin x reader#kim seungmin x reader#stray kids fanfic#stray kids x reader#stray kids scenarios#stray kids imagines#stray kids seungmin#skz angst#skz fanfic#skz imagines#skz x reader#skz scenarios#skz seungmin#skz seungmin x reader#stray kids seungmin x reader
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THE PROPHECY | 2
pairing: grayson hawthorne x f!reader
summary: where grayson is an aristocrat and reader is from a working class.
warning: ANGST, mention of tobias hawthorne, mention class difference, death.
tagging: @unnoodles @nqds @alwaysthefangirl @clarissaweasley-10 @benny1989fredd @imaseabear @never-enough-novels @elysianwayy77 @whatsamongus @sheisntyou
a/n: im sorry!🫠
word count: 1.2k
part 1 , masterlist
After the embarrassing moment in front of all those people, she decided to lock herself in. Though you lived on the other side of the town, it still felt weird for you to go out. She missed taking walks in the morning under the sun. It has been a week, she has sent letters to people to hire her since she cannot let other people push her poverty further.
She was trying to sleep, trying to not recall their judging faces, how they looked down on her, how he reacted but she failed, especially trying not to think of Grayson and his reaction. He has sent her a letter through his trusted guard. Out of rage she burnt it at the very moment. She didn't want to cry again this week, she closed her eyes tightly and forced herself to sleep but was disturbed by constant and a hurried knocking on her door. She assumed it was her neighbour because who else would knock on her door at midnight?
When she opened the door she saw a very familiar blonde man whose face was turned to the side to look if anyone was out. She immediately went to slam the door against his face but he stopped the door, giving his strength he pushed the door open and let himself in.
“I didn't let you in. Didn't they teach manners in your fancy school?” She spoke with obvious anger.
“Look, I'm sorry—”
“Shut up, and get out.” She demanded, it's her house.
“Please, I'm begging, just hear me out.” He pleads.
“I don't care for what you have to say. You don't know me, remember?” She scoffed, recalling his cruel words.
“Y/n…”
“No, don't even say my name. Out.” She pointed to the open door.
“There is no excuse for my behaviour—”
“You're right. So, leave.”
“I love you.” He dropped another set of three cruel words.
She was quiet for a second. “The audacity you have.” She added. “You don't love me, if you did you would have descended on me, told them that I was with you. That we have been together for months!”
“I know. But at that moment, I was scared. Of my grandfather and everyone. You know how society works.”
“I do know. But do you? Because, people finding out that you are with a working class woman would only be a little gossip that people talk about for a month and move on. But the embarrassment that I faced led me to have no job! No one will hire me because apparently I'm a thief!” She wanted to cry, but she walked to her small closet and took out the dress he gave her. She handed it to him. “Take this and leave, Grayson.”
“No. Please, believe me. I really am in love with you. I had no choice.”
“Yes you did. You could have fought for me but you're a coward. And you'll always be.”
He went silent for a few seconds. “We have a choice now. We could go, like I mentioned.”
She frowned. “What?”
“Us, leaving the town. I wrote to you, in my letter. Did you not receive it?” He asked.
“I did.”
“You didn't read it? Are you that mad?”
“I burnt it.”
That made him hurt even more. “I understand, it's okay. I wrote that we could run away from here. We could go to another country even. I have enough and more money for both of us. We could start new and live happily, no more hiding.”
“I can't just leave.”
“Yes, you can. Are you really happy here? You live alone, you don't talk to anyone in the neighbourhood.” He pointed.
“What about you? You can't leave your brothers.” Grayson has mentioned multiple times how close he is with his brothers.
“They'll understand.”
She was hesitant to say yes.
“Please say yes.” Grayson knelt down, his hands snaking around your waist. “Please.” He begged.
“What if you leave me?”
“I won't be here and suggesting this if I'm planning on doing that.”
“What about your grandfather? He'll find us.”
“I'll take care of it.”
Silence.
He placed a kiss on her stomach, and then on her hips. “Trust me.”
“Okay.”
Grayson rested his head on your stomach, he took both her hands and kept it on his head like how she used to do before. “I promise you that I won't disappoint you.”
“You better not.”
“I love you.” He said looking up, she cupped his cheeks.
“I love you too. But it doesn't mean I'm over it.”
“I know.” He said. “I'll spend forever making up for it.” He stood up and closed the door behind, they both sat on the bed and discussed their runaway.
“We'll leave this weekend. Before sunrise, I'll meet you right here. Take whatever you want but not too much. We can get anything you want after we move.”
“Okay.”
He kissed her softly. “Nothing will separate us.”
_
Like he said, Grayson knocked on her door before sunrise. He had one suitcase with him, he took her small bag from her and led the way. They two walked on the road hoping no one would see the two, the both were walking fast as you can, once you reached the woods, they both rested for a while because after this, either they had to go across his side of the town or through the woods to go to the docks. They can't risk anyone finding the two so you had to go through the woods, Grayson already marked on trees to go to the docks so it was easy.
Everything was going well until Grayson heard a bang. “Did you hear that?” He asked her as they both stopped. Grayson turned to her as she didn't respond.
She didn't know exactly what happened but it was hurting a lot, her flesh was throbbing, she never felt such physical pain ever. Grayson caught her when her body automatically fell and her light blue started turning red.
“No, no, no.” Grayson held her in his arms.
She tried to breathe but it was hard, so hard. “I'm bleeding.”
“It's okay, it'll be okay.” He told himself that more. He ditched their bags and carried her back to the town so he could take her to the doctor. He prayed that they'll make it in time.
“Grayson.”
“Yes, sweetheart?” His voice was shaky.
“I'm going to die.”
“No, you won't.”
“I can feel it.”
“Well, you're wrong.”
“Stop. We won't make it time.”
“I'll regret it forever if I don't try.”
“Gray. Please, I don't want to die in that town.”
“You're not dying!”
“Please don't make me die there.” His legs stopped, slowly accepting that he only had a few minutes with her.
“I want you to have my ring.” She told him.
He nodded, with tears.
“And know that I love you and forgive you.”
“I don't deserve it.”
“You do.”
“This, it's my fault. It's my grandfather, I know it is him.”
“Doesn't matter, we were doomed from the beginning.” She pointed it out.
“We deserve better. You deserve better.” He sniffed. “I had it all planned, we'll move to another country, change our names and get married. I'd shower you with gifts and kisses, and open a restaurant with your name. I was supposed to treat you like a queen and give you the world.”
“Maybe in another universe.”
“Why not in this?”
She didn't reply, she couldn't. She tried but she couldn't, both felt her life leaving her. Grayson hugged her tightly and cried. He wished for a miracle to happen and bring her back. But nothing happened.
#grayson hawthorne#grayson hawthorne x you#grayson hawthorne x reader#grayson hawthorne headcanons#the inheritance games#the brothers hawthorne#jameson hawthorne#the hawthorne brothers#xander hawthorne#avery kylie grambs#avery grambs#nash hawthorne#the grandest game#glorious rivals#lyra kane
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A NOVEL I’LL NEVER PUBLISH : STARTERS
a collection of quotes, phrases, and sayings from a YA novel I wrote back in high school. change & alter as needed.
“Are you just going to keep staring at that thing all day?”
“This is a bank, right? ...So why does it look like there’s some serious horror movie shit going down here?”
“Personally, I think she was just born a bitch.”
“Get yourself something to eat.”
“We’ve got to get this place cleaned up and looking nice.”
“It only takes sixty seconds of your time, but the peace of mind it gives you will last for a lifetime.”
“And you’re not frightened of needles, right?”
“That’s got more lies printed on it than a presidential campaign poster.”
“Remember that weekend in Los Angeles? Well, this is just like that, except we’re not using dynamite, and there won’t be any human sacrifices.”
“Oh, god, it’s trying to break the door down!”
“Did you get that off a bumper sticker?”
“No one wants to deal with your shit, [name]. Why else do you think your parents ditched you?”
“I’m fine. I ate last night.”
“Yes, a fair number of global concerns could be resolved if only people would stop ‘saying things’.”
“I’m sorry that happened to you.”
“It’s been like this for as long as I can remember.”
“My parents weren’t really into all that sentimental ‘loving your child’ shit.”
“Do you think it’s after midnight yet?”
“Correct me if I’m wrong, [name], but I’m pretty sure no one in recorded history has ever had laser vision.”
“Still, it’s kind of cool, isn’t it?”
“There’s no reason to be nervous, honey. It’s just standard procedure.”
“Things will get better. They just have to.”
“We have enough to keep the lights on, or the water running, but not both.”
“Look, nobody cares about people like us, okay? They never do. They never will. We’re on our own out here.”
“Apparently, I’ve joined the ranks of the demons. That’s what the priest told me when he was trying to ‘save my immortal soul’, or whatever.”
“I’m just a fuck-up, okay?! I fuck everything up! Everything! All the time! That’s why I’m alone! That’s why no one wants anything to do with me!”
“I’m sorry it didn’t work out for us, son.”
“She’s probably just mad at us for breathing. Repeated offenses, you know.”
“I’m doing this for you! For all of you!”
“We’ll leave a light on for you.”
“You’ve always been a part of our family, [name]. You just took the long way coming home.”
#rp meme#roleplay meme#rp starters#roleplay starters#dialogue prompts#rp prompts#rp memes#roleplay memes#sentence memes#sentence prompts#sentence starters
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this popped up in my notifications. jesus f christ it’s been a year
i finished reading what’s posted of your fic to feel its warmth (so good!!!) and then went to ur tumblr to see what was up and like the 2nd most recent thing you’d posted was about how u don’t finish wips. and i thought that was super funny (and relatable).
oh noooo hahahah don’t be deceived, i WILL finish them, im just dramatic cuz it takes a while lol. as soon as i’ve finished editing and uploading my other fic (No End in Sight) i’ll be back to TFIW
it wasn’t meant to be such a long hiatus, No End in Sight was supposed to be a one shot and then i accidentally wrote a novel whoops
also thank u!! i’m glad you’re enjoying TFIW!!!💕💕💕
#i still haven’t given up hope#this has just been a dead art year apparently i’m Sorry!#6 months where i joined the atla fandom and made some of the sickest art i’ve ever done and also wrote my first completed novel length story#plus tens of thousands of words of other shit#and then i entered the dead zone#i blame capitalism
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I’ve been thinking about the AU I setup in this post about Shang Qinghua and Shen Qingqiu getting stuck back in their old bodies for a little bit and getting a chance to write some changes into being (and say goodbye to Shen Yuan’s family). The rest of the context there isn’t really important for this post, but I implied that they’d find some vague way to help Bing-ge and I wanted to give how they helped him here.
So post the extras, Bing-ge is left in his world with only the memory of a nice shizun and an understanding that he’s miserable but no idea how to change things. But then one night, a figure reaches out to him in his dreams.
And of course he’s immediately suspicious. He controls his dreams and this figure isn’t something he understands. His close are weird and he’s wearing something strange on his eyes, but when he looks into those eyes, they look just like nice shizun’s.
And the figure reached out to him and says he’s sorry that he doesn’t have a better answer. He says he and Airplane tried, but that idiot could only work so many miracles with the shitty story he wrote, so they were a little limited. He says that Bing-ge doesn’t have to take his offer, but he hopes he will.
And Bing-ge is confused and demands to know what he’s talking about. But the figure just says that if Bing-ge takes his offer, he’ll lose his powers, immortality, and even cultivation. He’ll end up weak and ordinary, but he’ll get a second chance at life.
And Bing-ge asks why he has to go away and sacrifice to get anything. He says he knows the figure is nice shizun and asks why he can’t just choose him and stay by his side, but the figure just pulls him in close and apologizes and says he’s sorry he can’t do more for him, but he says that he’ll be sending Bing-ge to a grieving family who would have just lost their son. He says to tell them Shen Yuan sent him and they’d understand.
And Bing-ge is scared and confused in a way he hasn’t been in many, many years but nice shizun keeps hugging him, so he reluctantly agrees. And suddenly a bright light flashes around him and his head begins to spin. And as the world is fading, he hears nice shizun yell to him not to flirt with his sister.
And then he wakes up and feels weak and disoriented. His core and demonic powers are both gone and he’s in a strange room with all sorts of strange, glowing objects. Then a tall, beautiful man rushes in and demands to know who he is.
And when he says he’s Lou Binghe and Shen Yuan sent him, the man collapses to the ground and hugs him and cries that his brother is really gone, but he’s glad this means he’s safe. And Lou Binghe doesn’t understand, but the man’s arms are warm, so he collapses into them.
And over the next few months, he learns more about the world. He reads the novel Proud Immortal Demon Way and finally understands just how lost he was. He reads the extras Airplane and Cucumber published while here, learning the truth about Shen Qingqiu and why he was the way he was. And Lou Binghe can’t bring himself to forgive him, but he’s glad he apparently didn’t leave the man to suffer for all eternity. And he laughs in delight when he learns about Shang Qinghua and Mobei-Jun and how apparently his stoic right hand has secretly always been a hopeless romantic.
And he reads the extra about himself and realizes that all it gave him was a single hand reaching out. And while that’s sort of scary, it also means that the kindness he’s found from Shen Yuan’s family wasn’t something forced into being, but rather a choice they make every single day.
And Lou Binghe vows to live this new life better and take advantage of the opportunity. And he also reaffirms his promise to Shen Yuan that he won’t flirt with his sister. Though fortunately, he never said anything about his eldest brother. And while this cool, elegant, beautiful man might not be Shen Qingqiu, he is certainly a Shen. And this one actually loves him in return.
#lou binghe#luo bingge#Shen yuan’s family#svsss#I just want them all to be happy#and poor Bing-ge never got the chance#so let’s give him the chance!#and let’s give him a sexy older Shen of his own!#and let’s give Shen Yuan’s family some closure as to their son’s fate#I’m sure it’s far less heartbreaking knowing he’s just in another world than actually dead#plus now they can know he got married#and finally came out#it’s what they all deserve!
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this is a shout-out post
Specifically @ those folks who--at some point in the last three months--have left thoughtful, encouraging, or completely unhinged comments on Doom Metal Love Story, only to be met with crickets from the ADHD introvert who wrote the damned thing. I do read every single comment, I just apparently need a secretary.
This also serves as an "I highly recommend these blogs/writers" post. If you're following me and not following these folks, you're doing yourself a disservice. Most of them are writing queer horror or horror-adjacent fiction that affects my brain chemistry.
I'm more sick than I was when I was answering inappropriate questions the other day, so I apologize for the... uh... shit, what's the word. This post sucks. I'm sorry. You all deserve a big hug and thousands of hits on your own fics.
@aintgonnatakethis does military sci-fi with queer relationships like a g. Would highly recommend checking out his fics.
@astramachina my beloved. His FNAF fics are engrossing (I'm hooked on Driving Through Tunnels (With No Light at the End)) and I'm excited to see more analog horror from him.
What is there to say about @cowboybrunch that everyone following me doesn't already know? Thank you for your love here and your comments over on AO3. You were Hofer's first fan, and in my heart you're his #1. I know I keep saying this but if you aren't reading Dust to Dust, fix that. Judas Wept is also ace (not ace as in asexual. The throuple definitely bang. #GemmaDidNothingWrong)
Is @davycoquette still around or is she one of those cool bloggers who shows up with mind-blowing posts for six months and then disappears?
@gioiaalbanoart my love. There is no way I could respond to all of your comments. I do intend to print them out and wallpaper my office with them, which imo is better than responding. I can't wait to read TSA.
@jev-urisk your deep reads of the main characters, your fanart, and your moodboards have made me feel things I didn't think it was possible to feel. The intro post for 7 Circles slays, and I can't wait for it to be out in the world.
@noblebs gets a threat: if you don't finish EWT I'm going to beat your ass with something soft. Your comments always spark joy, and your characters are a delight.
@sableglass has given me feedback that's going to make draft 6/the IF novel better. Thank you, buddy. She's also got this laser-guided way of writing that goes straight for the gut. I'm really glad I met you, man.
@sh0ckrot your love and support of this damned novel was so uplifting. Thank you for cheering when I was first getting it off the ground. (Also, hi, this is my new blog, sorry I vanished.)
@solivagantingrebel I know I've been quiet on Bleeding Oath but it's SO GOOD. Vampire!Ghost and Werewolf!Soap have my heart, and I am rooting for them. And also looking forward to the day I have my beta read backlog cleared so I can go back through and give this one the line-highlighter treatment.
Everybody already knows @the-golden-comet but he helped me so much emotionally when I was publishing the back third of this damned thing. If you don't know how much I appreciate you, Goldie... 🧼🧼🧼
@wyked-ao3 IDK where you came from, but you are an absolute gem. Thank you for helping me learn to love my tritagonist (Royston) whom I almost killed in the fourth draft, and for sharing your Pinterest finds with me.
I can't shout out readers without highlighting @words-after-midnight who beta read the thing and is the only reason the Bad Ending chapter makes any damned sense. I'm excited for Life in Black and White to finally make it out into the world. Nico inspires me every day.
OK no more dayquilposting. Carry on.
#idk how to tag this#doom metal love story#and its enjoyers#hopefully book 2 will be ready before NYE#we all know what happens on NYE
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it's akaashi's birthday!!! you guys know what that means!!!!!!!!!! have some timeskip special headcanons about akaashi and co. let's go!!!!
i think akaashi deserves a spin-off about his misadventures in the manga department honestly
gekkan shoujo nozaki kun. sekaiichi hatsukoi. bakuman. there is a lesson to be learned here people!!!!!
tenma gifts him a planner for his birthday and the first thing he does after opening it is mark all of tenma's deadlines. which he also has recorded in his phone calendar. AND he has them memorized. AND on sticky notes scattered throughout the office
tenma: you know i got you this planner so that you wouldn't have to put sticky notes everywhere, right? akaashi, sleep-deprived and running on five cups of coffee: time waits for no one, udai-san
the office has a special "akaashi keiji emergency rest kit" for when he falls asleep at his desk
it's got a blanket if it's cold, a pillow they tuck under his head, a bottle of water and snacks they leave next to him if he gets hungry/thirsty when he wakes up, and an eye mask that they put on him after they take off his glasses
idk i think the whole office really loves akaashi
and he really loves them back!!!! they're a team!!! they work together!!!! deadlines might be hell but at least it's a hell they're united in!!!
akaashi finding love and contentment and happiness in a place he initially wasn't sure about is everything to me okay
also i think he wingmans tenma and akiteru. i think it'd be very funny.
akaashi knows it's bad when he catches tenma drafting a whole new romance plot and he's like "udai-san. please. you have something due in five days you canNOT be doing this right now"
honestly akaashi just wants them to get together so that tenma will stop being dreamy and distracted and ACTUALLY focus on getting his manuscript done on time
and then they DO get together and akaashi is subjected to even more dreamy sighs and staring off into the distance and whatnot
tenma is such a disaster you guys i love him
ALSO YOU KNOW HOW MANGAKAS HAVE A LIL MASCOT TO REPRESENT THEMSELVES IN THE AUTHOR'S NOTE. TENMA'S IS DEFINITELY SOME KIND OF CROW
someone asks tenma if he has a favorite pro vball player and tenma says "hinata shouyou" with the BIGGEST smile on his face and hinata almost cries
LMAO HOW FUNNY WOULD IT BE IF KENMA OFFERED TO BANKROLL AND DEVELOP A ZOMBIE KNIGHTS VIDEO GAME
i mean i barely even know what zkz is about but based on the title i feel like it'd make a good video game
yachi can help design . . . lev and komi can voice act . . . yes . . . it's all coming together . . .
NEVER MIND I KNOW WHAT IT IS I READ A TRANSLATION OF THE LIGHT NOVEL IN THE MIDDLE OF WRITING THIS
he wrote zkz in a restaurant are you SHITTING me udai tenma i love you
so apparently it got discontinued?? instead of allowing tenma to finish it the way he wanted?? so when tenma hears that kenma wants to make a video game out of it he ends up in tears
kenma's like "well it might have failed as a manga. but i think it'd make a pretty good video game, if you want to help out with that"
god everything about it makes me want to cry actually. tenma who is still chasing after his dreams. and akaashi right there, learning how to be better. learning how to be passionate. learning how to give tenma his all. because he's TENMA'S editor and he'll be damned if he doesn't do it well.
udai tenma in an interview about meteo attack: "yes, i am sad i didn't get a chance to end zkz in a way that would have made me happy. it was my first series, and that's always going to be precious to me. but meteo attack is one i'm looking forward to. it's a story about learning how to fly, when everybody else has long since been trampling on your wings and telling you that you can't."
sorry i did NOT mean to get this emotional over them. but now i am. and i am going to be thinking about it forever
meteo attack def gets raving reviews from players in the pro volleyball league, especially from hinata shouyou
#I TOOK A BREAK FROM MY ESSAY TO WRITE THIS OKAY BYE BYE CLOSING TUMBLR FOR A WEEK UNTIL THE SEMESTER'S OVER#akaashi keiji#udai tenma#kozume kenma#hinata shouyou#yachi hitoka#haiba lev#komi haruki#haikyuu#haikyuu!!#haikyuu hcs#sou says stuff
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Gift of a Friend
Summary: An unlikely meeting leads to something unexpected.
Pairing: Din Djarin x OFC (Talia)
Word Count: 1.6k
Warnings: none. This is just fluff (sorry not sorry). A “This is how they met” story. It’s just two people who could use a friend finding each other. Maybe it might lead to more…..
Notes: I wrote this for the @swiftiscruff friendship exchange. This is for you @sawymredfox!!! I hope you like this. Thank you for being brave and reaching out to me. Look at us, two introverts making a connection lol. You are too sweet and my world would be a little less bright without you in it. Love you. 💜💜
The title is from a Demi Levato song.
Thank you @fallingforthearch for being my beta.
graphics and support banners by the amazing @saradika-graphics
The sounds of the bazaar filled her ears: children laughing… vendors calling out sometimes in their native tongue and sometimes in basic, peddling their fruits and vegetables or homemade goods. The sun beat down on the dirt as she made her way through the bustle and cacophony, looking for a few things to make up her dinner for the evening.
Another long shift at the hospital had come and gone, mainly assisting with patching up drunken patrons from the cantina whose mouths had earned them a fist to the jaw or the nose.
Gathering the last things she needed, she headed to her small home, ready to finally relax and maybe start the new book she’d been dying to read. The sound of babbling behind her caught her attention. She looked down to see a small green creature looking up at her. His big dark eyes looked up at her curiously, almost as if he knew her. He babbled again and reached his arms out to her.
“Hey, little buddy…. Are you all alone? Where’s your mama?”
Her eyes darted, searching the crowd. He was an unusual looking creature. Not a species she had ever seen before, but so adorable. Surely, someone must be looking for him.
His ears twitched, and he made a sound that sounded almost like a whine. He instantly lifted his arms again, and she scooped him up. The little creature babbled happily in her arms. She stared at him, feeling a sense of comfort and peace with this little guy she hadn’t felt in a long time. She felt he was trying to communicate with her, even though all his sounds were only gibberish.
“Do you speak Basic?” Talia asked. “Can you tell me where your parents are?”
The little green creature babbled again, tilting his head. His little hand reached out to touch her face. She softly gasped at the unexpected contact but relaxed as she felt the warmth and comfort wash over her.
“There you are…”
Her eyes shot up to behold a broad man clad in armor and a helmet. She recognized his armor immediately; he was a Mandalorian. She blinked rapidly at him, her tongue briefly peeking out to wet her lips.
“He's yours?”
“Yes…he belongs to me.” His voice was devoid of emotion through the modulator. He stood rigid and tall, an unmoving statue. The sun created an almost halo-like ring around him, making him look like some ancient god she’d read about in a novel.
“Friendly little guy, isn’t he?”
“He doesn’t usually like a lot of people.” His response was short and to the point.
A puff of air escaped her lips as the little green creature babbled in her arms. This mysterious Mandalorian was so hard to read and apparently not one for conversation.
“Come on, Grogu. It’s time to go home.”
Her brow ticked skyward. It was an interesting name. The little guy completely ignored him, continuing to coo and play with strands of her blonde hair swirling in the gentle breeze.
He exhaled loudly, his right knee jutting out slightly as his hands went to his hips.
“Grogu…”
The tone of his voice made Grogu’s ears droop slightly and he pouted for just a moment before leaping from her arms and returning to his Mandalorian.
He scooped Grogu into his arms and turned away without another word. She huffed. Was he just going to walk away without a word? She opened her mouth to insult him, but Grogu’s high-pitched noises stopped her. The Mandalorian stopped as well, keeping his back to her but turning his head to the side.
“Thank you…for looking out for him.”
She called out to his retreating form, her arms crossed tight across her chest. “You’re welcome.”
“Mudscuffer.” she added under her breath.
Din walked away with Grogu babbling in his arms, reaching back toward Talia. Din shook his head, a strange feeling in his chest. Something about that girl intrigued him. Maybe it was how sweet she was with Grogu. Perhaps it was the way she called him a Mudscuffer when she thought he couldn’t hear. She had spunk, and he found himself wanting to see her again.
Halfway through the bazaar, she realized her mistake. The shopkeeper offered his son to carry the packages home for her, but she refused, her pride overruling common sense. She’d been saving for months to buy this easel and canvases, and she didn’t want another set of hands all over it. Besides, she’d made it this long on her own, and she could do this too.
“Dank Farrik!” she groaned, adjusting the packages in her hands, determined to make it back home without dropping them.
Din watched her from a distance as she struggled, silently chuckling to himself. She was a stubborn one, too damn prideful to ask for help. His heart stirred at the sight.
“Here, let me help you with that.”
Taking the packages into his arms with little effort, he looked down at her, his helmet hiding his smirk.
She stared at him, opening her mouth to speak then closing it again. She hadn’t expected to see him again, although he had managed to find a way into her thoughts over the last few days.
Before she could speak, Grogu took the opportunity to jump into her arms.
“Hello, little friend.” She laughed as she booped his nose.
“Which way?” he asked. The glint of his armor caught her eye as he shifted his weight.
“Oh, uh…. this way.” Her hand jutted out in the direction of her place.
An awkward silence fell over them like a heavy fog as they walked toward her house, neither one willing to break the tension. His boots softly scuffed the dirt in a steady rhythm, lulling her into a strange sense of comfortability.
“Do you have a name?” Her voice cut through the silence. “Or should I just call you Mando?”
One of his shoulders raised slightly.
“I figured you’d just call me Mudscuffer.” His chuckle was like a soft whisper through the modulator.
She swallowed hard and fixed her eyes on the road. She couldn’t believe he’d heard her say that. She thought he was out of earshot when she let that slip.
“My name is Din.”
“Talia,” she offered before he even had a chance to ask. His head turned slightly toward her, giving her an almost imperceptible nod.
He sat the package down in her living room and straightened, admiring the small space. It was sparsely decorated but cozy—like a home. A worn bookshelf stood tall in the corner, filled with books and a few small trinkets. He wondered what sort of books lined those shelves and if she imagined herself in those worlds as she read them.
She watched him standing in her living room, the sun beaming in and reflecting off his Beskar armor. She found herself wanting to know more about him…. anything about him, really.
“Thanks for your help.”
She tucked a strand of hair behind her ear and smiled. Grogu shuffled around on the floor, fascinated by the space. His coos filled the air, punctuating the uneasiness between them.
“You’re welcome.”
She opened her packages and set up her easel by the window, adjusting it a few times to find the perfect angle to catch the light. The canvases were stacked neatly into the corner under the small shelving holding a small assortment of paints and brushes.
“You paint?”
Din could almost imagine her sitting by this window; tiny speckles of paint freckled across her cheek, her brow furrowed in concentration as she worked. The sunlight streaming down, illuminating her golden locks, would have been breathtaking.
“I’m getting back into it again. I had to save for a while before I could afford a new easel and a few pieces of canvas.”
He quietly cleared his throat, shifting his weight uncomfortably. He wasn’t used to talking to people. He couldn’t remember the last time he had an actual conversation with someone. Talking to her was…nice. His cheeks flushed under his armor, and he was grateful she couldn’t see his face. He was a bounty hunter and a trained warrior, not some little boy with a crush.
“Would you and Grogu like to stay and have dinner with me? It’d be nice to have some company for a change.” Her cheeks burned with heat as she asked the question. Her heartbeat quickened with every moment he was silent.
“Thank you for the offer, but Grogu and I should be going.” He didn’t know how to explain to her that his creed forbade him from revealing his face to anyone but his riduur. That was a conversation for another time. He’d broken that vow once and endured too much to redeem himself to risk it again.
Her chin briefly tilted toward the floor before she returned her gaze to his helmet with a smile that didn’t reach her eyes.
“Sure…. maybe another time.”
His chest tightened as he collected Grogu. This feeling was strange to him—this feeling of wanting to connect with someone. He’d spent his whole life without any real attachment to anyone until Grogu. Now, he found himself wanting to be in her presence, wanting something with her that he always longed for but denied himself: a friend…and maybe something more.
Without thinking, he stopped in the doorway and turned back to her.
“Our home is just outside the city. If you’re ever interested, there’s plenty of good lighting and landscape to paint.”
The words tumbled from his mouth before he could stop them.
“I’m sure Grogu would like it if you came to visit sometime when you’re free. He seems to like you.”
Her smile could have lit up the deepest mines of Mandalore. This mysterious stranger had her completely captivated. She’d realized how much she missed having someone to just be with… someone to fill that void of loneliness she tried to ignore for so long.
“I’d like to visit Grogu sometime, too.”
#gift of a friend#ppcugiftexchange2024#ppcufriendshipexchange2024#din djarin x ofc#the mandalorian#jennaispunk#it’s fluff
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What Foxes Like
Title: What Foxes Like
Pairing: Sterek
Rating: G
Warnings: None
Summary: Stiles and Derek have been in a relationship for over a year and still none of their friends know about it. Because reasons.
Notes: Written for Poe, originally. This is actually the sequel to a fic I haven't finished yet. I fail. I tried to make sure it made sense anyway. Also, surprise Steve Rogers and Jaskier Pankratz cameos! (I just spoiled the surprise.) You can also read it HERE on AO3.
WHAT FOXES LIKE By Senashenta
“they take their shots, but we're bulletproof I know places (Hide) and you know for me, it's always you I know places (I) in the dead of night, your eyes so green I know places (Hide) and I know for you, it's always me I know places” - I Know Places by Taylor Swift
Derek had moved in with him several months ago and there were logistical problems right from day one. Not that Stiles didn’t love having him there, but the apartment was very small, probably too small to be hiding a wanted fugitive, and whenever he had people over Derek had to hide away in the bedroom for fear of being seen.
Their friends wouldn’t turn Derek in, of course, but they hadn’t been exactly… open. About their relationship, up until this point. They had been together for almost two years and still no one knew about it.
It wasn’t like Stiles to keep secrets, especially from Scott, and in general he was terrible at it anyway. But it was really hard to tell your best friend you were in a steady, loving relationship with the man of your dreams when he was still pining for the girl he had tragically lost a handful of years before.
Besides which, the fox in Stiles privately liked that he had something special to keep to himself, no matter how inconvenient it was in reality. It was the part of himself that urged him to squirrel things away for himself, to keep all the precious things in his life close and safe. He was still getting used to those instincts, even years after the Nogitsune had left him with a bit of fox behind (okay a lot of fox behind.)
But also… there was a little bit of fear there, raw and animalistic, at the thought of being discovered. Something that he couldn’t explain or really even understand, but which was there nonetheless, and it was stupid . God, even Jackson was out! But Stiles had never actually told anyone he was bisexual before (aside from Derek, obviously) and the thought just… yeah. Yikes.
On top of that, his last relationship had been with Lydia, and after that had ended (badly), he just kind of… guarded his heart. What he had with Derek was good and going public was a risk he just wasn’t sure he was ready to take.
“You’re doing that thing where you stare at the ceiling like it’s got all the answers of the universe again.”
“Huh?” Stiles blinked out of his thoughts and turned his head to look at Derek, who was seated cross-legged next to him on the bed, hunched over his laptop, illuminated by the screen, working on either his newest article or his book.
For obvious reasons Derek couldn’t hold down a regular job, so he wrote articles for publication online and was working on a novel in his spare time, all under the pseudonym “Tyler Shaw”, since he couldn’t use his real name. It didn’t bring much money in, but between that and Stiles’ job at the bakery cafe they managed to scrape by. (The FBI Academy? Well that… just hadn’t been a “good fit”, as his Dad liked to say. Apparently it was frowned upon for trainees to be as… insubordinate as he tended to be. The upshot of going , though, even if just for two semesters, was that he had met some of the most interesting people, a few of which Stiles figured he would be friends with for life.)
“Still staring, but now at me. And we both know I don’t have all the answers of the universe.”
“I– sorry.” Stiles shook his head, “just thinking.”
Derek grinned. “That’s always trouble.”
Stiles shot him a look with a frown, “not always .” (But often, definitely often.) “I was just thinking ,” he continued, ignoring the amused look in Derek’s eyes, “that I might invite Steve and Jaskier to come visit sometime soon. Just for a few days… I mean, if they can sneak away from the Academy for that long.”
“Mmhm.” Derek rumbled, and set his computer aside to ease himself up against Stiles’ side, one hand coming to rest against the younger man’s sternum, just feeling the rise and fall of his breath. “And where are we going to put them? This place is barely big enough for the two of us, never mind four .”
“They can sleep on the couch, it pulls out!” Stiles groused, “and besides, Jaskier has no concept of personal space.” Though he supposed Steve did , in all fairness. “Look,” a touch frustrated, he frowned up at Derek where he was leaning over him, “I know your werewolf possessiveness would love for me to just stay here alone with you all the time, but I…”
Trailing off, Stiles lifted his left arm and turned it over to show the pair of concentric circles that were tattooed on his inner wrist. The symbol of Scott’s pack– of his pack.
“You need more than that.” Derek finished for him, a tiny smile tugging at his lips.
Stiles looked up at him and, after a moment, let his True Eyes shine through, bright, almost glowing green. Derek responded by allowing his own eyes to shine, beautiful, luminescent blue, and then leaning down to kiss him firmly, decisively. “Invite your friends. We’ll squeeze them in somehow. But if they rat me out to the FBI, you’re the one that’s going to have to clean up the mess, deal?”
Stiles grinned and dragged him back down for another kiss. “Deal.”
~*~*~
Markets weren’t really Stiles’… thing. Farmers’ markets, crafters’ markets, seasonal markets, whatever. He found them innately boring (even if they were a good place to procure seasonal fruits and vegetables.) But Derek loved them and it was the time of year when they were popping up everywhere so Stiles relented and went to a few, just to make his boyfriend happy. And it did – make Derek happy, that is. He wandered around the markets they went to with a little, content smile on his face that could only make Stiles smile, too, and… okay. Maybe markets weren’t so bad after all.
It was funny, how things had kind of slowly progressed to Happy Derek over the course of their relationship. When they had first gotten together, he had been his usual grumpy self, and that had continued on, with a few short glints of lightheartedness here-and-there, for the months that they had been dating while Stiles had still been living in the dorms at the FBI Academy.
Then, when Stiles had eventually called it a day and moved back to Beacon Hills, Derek seemed to brighten and brighten until they were living together and he was just… happy. He smiled. He laughed. He genuinely seemed to enjoy life, and while Stiles was all for Happy Derek it was also somewhat befuddling at times. He wanted to ask, but every time he was about to he chickened out because he wasn’t entirely sure what the answer would be.
Now, though, Derek was looking through an assortment of decorative candles– some of which Stiles was pretty sure were made to look like zombie unicorns – with that little, contented smile on his face, probably browsing for Christmas presents (if Derek got him a zombie unicorn candle for Christmas Stiles thought he might scream.) and Stiles just. Watched him. Probably with the same tiny, happy smile on his own face.
Derek was humming and hawing over a particular candle– this time a cat with three eyes– and Stiles finally reached to catch his free hand, tangling their fingers together and tugging gently. “Hey.”
“Hm?” Derek blinked back to the present to look at him, and Stiles smiled, a real smile, and just leaned up to kiss him gently. Derek made a pleased little noise because Stiles was staunchly against PDA as a general rule, then tilted his head to kiss back with a hum.
Which was when Stiles felt eyes on him.
His hackles up, he pulled away quickly to look around the room–
–only to spot Scott and his mother two aisles down and one over. And Scott was staring at them hard , eyes wide while his Mom was completely oblivious to the entire exchange. Stiles’ eyes darted away, then back, then away again before he grabbed the candle Derek was holding and slammed it back on the table, and followed that up by tightening his grip on the older man’s hand and dragging him out of the vendor’s hall in all but a flat-out run.
“Wha– Stiles! ”
He didn’t even know if the startled voice calling his name came from Derek or Scott.
That was why Stiles didn’t do PDA.
~*~*~
“Did you at least apologize?” Steve seemed sympathetic, a few days later when he and Jaskier were crammed into Stiles’ and Derek’s tiny apartment, seated on the couch while Stiles lamented his story. Jaskier had no sympathy, instead grinning and giggling to himself because– well, because that was how Jaskier was, he supposed.
“He did.” Derek called from the kitchen where he had been working on dinner and incidentally eavesdropping, “apologize, that is. And we made up.”
Stiles had to grin at that. “ Vigorously .”
Jaskier snickered and Steve rolled his eyes and shoved at Stiles’ shoulder. Then he hesitated before asking, “okay, but not like, here , right, on the pull-out?”
“Who are you kidding, Stevie?” Jaskier laughed, “they’ve fucked on every surface of this apartment and you know it.”
Stiles just shrugged.
“Ew.” Steve commented, before adding, “and don’t call me that, Jask.”
“Ah, right, I almost forgot that dearest Agent Barnes is the only one permitted to call you that.” A grin, and Jaskier continued with, “how sad is it that all three of us have a passionate thing for older men?” Then, with a tiny pout; “and how tragic that you two have managed to snag yours, while I appear destined to pine away forever~?”
That got a quick look between Stiles and Steve because, to them , at least, it was incredibly obvious that Agent Rivia was interested. Jaskier just wasn’t seeing the signs, and neither of them knew how to tell him beyond literally smacking him up the back of the head. At this point it was kind of an unspoken thing between Stiles and Steve that they would keep their noses out of things and let Jaskier and Rivia work it out for themselves. (After all, everything had worked out for them , right?)
From the kitchen, Derek cleared his throat and interjected, “you could always start sending him random, weird gifts from the Internet in the mail.”
Jaskier and Steve both rolled their eyes, but Stiles grinned. “Worked for me!”
“I still have that shirt, too.”
“I know, you wore it last time I was mad at you.”
“Worked like a charm.”
Stiles found himself smiling fondly over toward the kitchen until Steve swatted his arm to catch his attention again. “Anyway,” The blond sighed, “what are you going to do about the whole…” Trailing off for a second, he gestured vaguely between Stiles and Derek before finishing, “I mean, you can’t keep it a secret forever… right?”
Stiles bristled for the briefest second. Then he sighed and looked down, picking absently at his jeans as he tried to come up with an answer that would satisfy his friends and not upset Derek at the same time.
“I’ve been thinking about that.”
Brown eyes lifted from the worn jean almost sheepishly. “Hm?”
Derek came out into the living room, wiping his hands on a towel as he did, to stand and look down at Stiles, expression worried and contemplative. “I’ve figured out by now that you’re not comfortable with other people knowing we’re together.” A pause, then; “except these assholes, for some reason?” He chuckled along when everyone else laughed. “But it’s been over a year since I moved in here with you, and we were dating– sort of– for months before that, too.”
Stiles wasn’t a hundred percent sure he liked where this was going, but he just nodded along anyway.
A sigh and Derek gave Steve and Jaskier an apologetic smile. “Could you guys give us some privacy for a couple minutes?”
Steve and Jaskier exchanged a glance– and then Jaskier popped to his feet and hauled Steve up with him. “No problem, we can go for a walk!” Dragging Steve over to the door, he added over his shoulder, “but we’ll be like, fifteen minutes, max, so we’d better not walk back in on anything gross!”
Steve squawked and barely managed to call out “We’ll knock!” before the door shut behind them.
And without them there, Stiles felt trapped. They were about to have a conversation that he had been avoiding for the better part of two years and he wasn’t sure he was particularly prepared for it now.
Luckily, Derek made it short and painful. He sat down next to Stiles and leaned to kiss by the younger man’s jaw gently. “The werewolf in me might want to keep you in my own pack,” he informed, and damn him for using Stiles’ own words against him; “but I also want to be able to show you off. You’re my mate, for all intents and purposes, and I want people to know that. I’m proud of it.”
Stiles stared at him, flabbergasted. When he finally found his words it was to blurt out “but I’m a fox !”
Derek snorted. “I’d noticed. But I knew that before we ever got together and it didn’t stop me. Also I scent mark you constantly ,” to make his point he leaned in to rub his jaw along Stiles’ with a rumble, “did you never wonder why I did that?”
“‘Cause you’re a weirdo.” Stiles grumbled petulantly. And then; “I didn’t say stop.”
Another little snort. Derek nibbled along his jaw and then buried his face in the crook of Stiles’ neck. “I’m possessive and I want people to know you’re mine. And Scott and the others, they won’t mind , you know that…”
“Do I know that? I’ve always been so into girls, like intensely into girls , at least as far as everyone else is concerned.” Stiles brought one hand up to card his fingers through Derek’s hair and the wolf practically purred at his touch, “not even Scott knows I’m bi.” Then, after a beat, “until a few days ago. I guess.”
Not that he thought Scott would run around telling everyone what he saw but it still made nerves squirm in his stomach at the thought.
“I think we should stop hiding.” Derek’s voice was muffled against Stiles’ shirt, “you know Lydia’s Christmas Party that we’re all invited to? I think we should go together, as a couple.”
Stiles stomach straight-up flipped upside down, but… Derek had a point. It would be nice to be out of hiding. And telling all of their friends at the same time would be convenient, at least. The party was a good idea.
“I guess… okay.” Stiles allowed after a moment’s thought, still playing with Derek’s hair, “but if it goes bad, it’s on you.”
He could feel Derek smile against the crook of his neck. “If it goes bad I’ll wear that shirt for you again.”
Stiles laughed . “Okay, deal.”
~*~*~
“Faith and Renfri are pissed they didn’t get to come.” Jaskier laughed without looking up from his phone as he texted back and forth between the two women in question. He was standing by the front door with his backpack slung over one arm, waiting for Steve to finish throwing his stuff in his own back so they could catch the next bus to Quantico.
“They can come next time.” Stiles bargained, “we can have a girls’ weekend.”
Jaskier feigned offense, “without me? ”
“Without~ you~!” Stiles singsonged, even as he was giving Steve one last hug goodbye and ushering them both out the door.
“Good luck!” Steve called over his shoulder.
Stiles smiled and waved. Yeah he was going to need it.
~*~*~
The night of the party Stiles honestly thought he was going to hyperventilate until he passed out and Derek had to calm him down on two separate occasions, once wrapping him up in a tight hug and the other staring into his eyes until the blue soaked right through him and eased him back to normal.
Eventually he did manage to get dressed and out the door, though the walk to Lydia’s place just amped his nerves up again until, by the time they arrived, he was nervous and twitchy– so basically his normal self. Derek took his hand, threaded their fingers together tightly, and tugged him along inside.
When Lydia answered the door her eyes darted between the two of them, then down to their clasped hands– and then she just smiled widely and ushered them inside where–
–oh shit that was literally everyone, wasn’t it.
The party kind of ground to a halt for a second as everyone turned to look at them and Stiles began to panic, until Derek released his hand and slid an arm around him instead, his hand coming to rest on Stiles’ hip as they stood in the doorway and Stiles tried not to make eye contact with anyone. He resisted the urge to huddle into Derek’s side and looked around until he found– there. Scott. Scott smiling . Oh thank God. Okay.
And then from somewhere in the back of the room, Jackson’s voice called out “I FUCKIN’ CALLED IT! ”
“JACKSON!” Lydia protested loudly, “YOU DON’T GET TO TALK!”
And just like that, the tension melted away from Stiles and he did lean into Derek, just a little, before looking up at him with a smile. “Let’s go in.”
Derek leaned down to kiss him. “Yeah,” he agreed, “let’s go in.”
#teen wolf#teen wolf fanfiction#sterek#sterek fanfiction#shut up sena#sena writes#what foxes like by senashenta
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About the Ending of Darkness of Dragons
Everyone has a take about this, right? Well, here's mine. I'm kind of late to the party since I was forcibly inducted into the Wings of Fire fandom just last Thursday, but that's fine. This will probably be kind of long and rambling and maybe not even that interesting to anyone but me. Sorry about that, but I'm really writing it more to work through my thoughts than anything else.
I find Darkstalker to be a very compelling character. I'm not going to bother trying to explain why I find him interesting, because it's irrelevant and would also be longer than this entire post. I feel like I have to clarify, though, that it's not because I think he's a good guy. He's obviously a pretty awful guy. I mean, I thought it was obvious, but I guess there's actually a significant contingent of people who say Darkstalker did nothing wrong. Apparently many people see him as some kind of misunderstood heroic figure, or at least a morally gray one. I find that to be a fully silly and indefensible position. You can talk all day about how abusive Arctic was, but you can't pile a tower of mitigating circumstances high enough to explain away genocide.
Anyway, he's my favorite character in Wings of Fire. He's one of my favorite characters period. And I really would have liked it if my favorite character had had a satisfying narrative arc, with a climax that appropriately, uh... that is to say, a climax that was appropriate in any way. For example, it would have been pretty good if Kinkajou had killed him.
But in fact she did not kill him; she forcibly polymorphed him into a baby. As noted by everyone who has ever read the books, this is a stunningly odd thing to have your hero do at the end of a quintet of novels whose most consistent theme is that it's wrong to force someone to be something they aren't. I'm sure this is well-trodden ground at this point, but I just-- I can't figure it out. The narrative is very clear up until this point that this is a very bad thing to do. In fact, I think mind controlling someone is all-but-explicitly presented by the books as a worse thing to do than killing them. That's probably a questionable position in and of itself, but I swear it is the position taken by the text.
In Moon Rising, Moonwatcher finds out that Darkstalker killed Arctic, and she's still willing to hear him out about how that might have been justified and maybe it would be fine to let him out of the ground. But in Escaping Peril she finds out he also mind controlled Arctic, and her reaction is much more severe. She's in tears, she declares it "the cruelest thing I’ve ever read", and she decides she can never let him out. Nothing else has changed about Moon's knowledge of Darkstalker and Arctic's relationship; the only new information she has is that Darkstalker used mind control. The narrative never seems to treat this like a contradiction or a weird quirk of Moon's personality, so I think it's a belief the author also holds coming through in her writing. Mind control is worse than killing. And then suddenly it isn't, and erasing Darkstalker's mind and turning him into an entirely different dragon is presented as a happy ending for everyone, including Darkstalker.
The only explanation I can come up with for this is that she wrote herself into a corner by making her villain omnipotent and invincible, and therefore impossible to stop without comprehensively incapacitating him. I surmise that the only way she could come up with to do that was to turn him into someone else, and so that's what she had to have happen, even though it clashed violently with the theme. But I have a better idea: just kill him. He's terrible! He deserves it!! It would have been satisfying to see him die after everything he did, and it wouldn't have dropped this bizarre dissonant note at the end of five books of consistent messaging.
It turns out the difficult part there is actually the "he deserves it" bit. Because, astonishingly, it seems the author of Wings of Fire is also in the category of people who think Darkstalker wasn't so bad after all. Apparently, Tui T Sutherland said at a release event for The Lost Continent, "I didn’t want to kill Darkstalker, because he didn’t deserve it [...]". This is a very interesting way to put it. She didn't say that nobody deserves to be killed. Apparently there's some bar he could have cleared to deserve death, and he didn't. But what can one actually do to merit death if genocide isn't enough? Well... I just don't know. I wasn't hatched in the light of a full moon, so I can't read her mind and tell you the answer. I'm just going to have to move on. Here's the full quote I excerpted above, along with the question that prompted it:
There is a theme across Arc 2 of Wings of Fire that seems to suggest forcing dragons to become something else via magic is wrong (Peril, Hailstorm/Pyrite, Anemone forcing Kinkajou to love Turtle, etc). However, the second arc ended with Kinkajou forcing Darkstalker to become Peacemaker against his will. How did you feel about writing that, since it seems to clash with your theme? I didn’t want to kill Darkstalker, because he didn’t deserve it and that felt like a cop out (plus, it was supposed to be impossible). I wanted a surprising and authentic end for these characters. One of the main themes I wanted to emphasize was that most dragons, like Peril, deserve a second chance at becoming a better dragon. Darkstalker needed to have everything erased in order to get that second chance. I did think a lot about how the theme was subverted by this ending though, and it’s very valid to be concerned about that. But, there was no other way to ‘save’ him.
(source)
There's something else that's weird to me about this quote, which is... do we really think that what happened to Darkstalker was not death? His mind was completely and permanently wiped by magic. He had "everything erased", word of god. Peacemaker apparently doesn't share any of Darkstalker's memories, personality, feelings or opinions. In what sense is Darkstalker not dead, then? Is it his soul? Whenever the word soul comes up in Wings of Fire it seems to be metaphorical. It's not clear that Darkstalker had a soul in a literal sense, let alone that Kinkajou didn't erase that too. Animus magic is apparently of infinite power, there's no reason to think it can't rewrite someone's soul. I guess his body still exists, sort of, but if that's enough to say that Darkstalker is still around, I think you could make a pretty strong argument that anyone who has ever eaten a steak is in fact a cow.
I think this gets at the heart of what bothers me so much about the ending. Darkstalker... actually did die, just like I wanted him to. Which is fine, actually. Contrary to what the author thinks, he completely deserved it. But what makes it ridiculous and unsatisfying is that it happens via this weird magical get out of jail free card where they kill him without "killing" him. Aren't there moral complexities to killing someone, no matter how much they deserve it or how much better it makes everything? Shouldn't we... talk about that? Well, apparently we don't need to talk about it, or think about it. We can just use magic to change the name of what we're doing away from "killing", without substantially changing its nature.
And it drives me even crazier that the more I think about it, even this nonsensical juke of an ending feels so ripe with interesting questions of its own, which are just glossed over. Isn't it interesting that Moon killed her first friend, that Hope killed her own son, and that neither of them ever have to face the fact that that's what they did? Do they even know? Do they suspect it? Isn't it interesting that Peacemaker came into the world as some kind of magical quasi-dragon whose only reason to exist is to make sure someone else can't? Did anyone stop to think what it would be like for him to grow up like that? How will he deal with the fact that he's surrounded by dragons who half think that one day he might pull off his face and let Darkstalker out again? Does Darkstalker still have loyalists who want that to happen? Wouldn't it be interesting to hear Hailstorm's thoughts on this? What about Ruby's? Fierceteeth's? Isn't it interesting that Darkstalker sat under the mountain trying to convince Qibli that it was better to use magic to change a dragon against their will than to kill them, and Qibli said "no, no, no" and then turned around and did just that? How would Winter feel about the fact that after he bared his heart to Qibli and Moon about how awful it was to ever do something like that, they did it without a second thought? How can they call themselves Winter's friends while they're keeping something like that from him??
Maybe I'm the only one who thinks those are interesting questions. Tui T Sutherland certainly doesn't seem to. It would seem that she wants us to believe that Darkstalker is now going to have a wonderful life in the rainforest as Peacemaker, magically shorn of everything that makes him himself. And that's good, because Darkstalker can be forgiven for committing genocide, and so he didn't actually deserve to die. He just deserved to have his entire self obliterated by infinite magic, which is different from dying. Different in a way that was all-but-explicitly stated to be worse, until it was better. And this will never cause any problems for anyone.
I don't know what else to say. It almost makes me dizzy to think about it. I wish I knew how to write this story.
#this one isn't really a headcanon#not sure what else to tag it though#wings of fire#wof#wof darkstalker#darkstalker#wof peacemaker#peacemaker
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