#feel free to add your own opinion if you think they'd fit differently

[thegnomelord]

CH 1: With a Spark It Starts Just Like It Ended

CW: NSFW Blood, gore, cannon typical violence, M reader but can be read as GN, Mage reader, Monster 141 AU, reader is described as having thick fucked up arms.

AO3 3.7k words, more of an intro to what's to come lol.

Old man Abdul had lived a good life. A harsh one. But a good one.

He was amongst the first to grab a gun and raise the fight against the Russians, risking life and limb for the freedom of Urzikstan even as members of his pack bled and died to artillery fire and noxious gas. And he alone had survived to see his country set free of tyranny and chose to stay in the military long after his hair had greyed.

And how was he rewarded for his service?

With a 'promotion' to guard the basement of a conference hall. They even called it the 'Peace House' as if that made his position grander, though in his humble opinion the only peaceful thing happening within the halls above was the lack of physical violence.

"Hey, did you fall asleep on me old man?" Taim, a bright eyed and gap-toothed human private so young he could've been one of his grandsons, asks as he throws down five playing cards on the floor between them. Royal flush, again.

Old man Abdul's eyes are soft with a glare and he throws down his own cards, already knowing he'd lost. "Go fish." He huffs, leaning back into the chair they'd been able to squirrel away.

It was embarrassing to think that boredom could torture him more than the Russians did, but they were only a few hours into their shift and he was already thinking of biting a bullet. Chances were they'd stay down here long after the diplomats up top finished bickering about who knows what...

"Hey," Taim perks up, and from the few weeks he's known him, Abdul knows the glint in his brown eyes heralds something stupid. "How about whoever loses this round takes a shot from your leg?"

He is proven correct.

"How about I throw you into a minefield so we can match?" Old man Abdul responds, his tail wagging from side to side. His tail looks more at home on a rat than any werewolf, the fur there an accidental casualty of a Russian fire mage's spell that had taken his leg off. The prosthetic leg only fitting on his human body isn't nearly as insulting as the warding totem they'd given him to protect against lethal magic after his leg had gone flying.

Taim gulps and holds his hands up. "There's no need for that sir." He quickly adds, clearing his throat and reaching to the floor to pick up their cards and shuffle them.

Taim's warding totem slips out from beneath his jacket, but it's different from old man Abdul's. Not in appearance, with the same materials every mage will make theirs differently, but in feel. It feels different...wrong.

Eyes narrowing he reaches out and holds the piece of faintly glowing rock between his claws. Heat radiates into his fingers, the magic inside pulsing in a steady even thrum like a machine instead of beating like a heartbeat; like something not quite alive.

Abdul had been in combat long enough to know how good a warding totem is with how his body reacts to it.

The shit one he'd been given barely gets the remaining fur on his tail to bristle.

Taim's makes his skin want to melt off.

"Where did you get this?" Abdul asks, tail curling up as he lets go of the totem with disgust clear on his face. "That rock could probably protect you from L3 mage without cracking, maybe even L4." Call him paranoid, but a private getting a totem to protect him from mages rarer than unicorns doesn't make any sense.

"Oh, that-" The young man clears his throat, the totem laying flat against his chest like an insult to life. "Came from up top a few days ago, guess all those terror attacks spooked command and they want to keep us normal people safe." He realizes his words and quickly adds. "-not that I'm calling you not normal or anything sir, it's just that-"

"-You're squishier than me, yes, I know." Old man Abdul rolls his eyes, leaning back into his chair with a huff.

Taim gives a nervous little giggle, scratching at his curly dark hair. "No offence sir. It's just...you know."

"We all look out for our kinfolk first." Old man Abdul sighs, going to wave him off.

His pointy ear twitches and immediately he's jumping to his feet when his sensitive hearing picks up the sound of the elevator mechanism running. No one is supposed to come down at this time, and Abdul already has his rifle raised to point at the elevator doors by the time Taim is able to get to his own feet. The old werewolf doesn't even need to say anything for the young man to stand on opposite side of him, they work together well, both guns aimed at the person revealed by the opening elevator doors.

It's just the janitor.

Taim lets out a small breath and lowers his gun, relaxing as the janitor gives them a small greeting both of them have to strain their ears to hear as a face mask muffles their words.

"That was a bit embarrassing." Taim chuckles weakly, nodding his own greeting and taking a step back so the janitor can push the heavy cart past them. Abdul notes the janitor's hands are thick and large, the veins poking out beneath latex gloves. Murky water sloshes inside the mop bucket, the trash bag filled to the brim and budging.

It's just a janitor.

But like an annoying tick on his ass, something doesn't let old man Abdul relax.

There's a buzz in the back of his mind like the one he'd get when he was being watched, and when he catches sight of the janitor's eyes beneath the wide-brimmed cap that buzzing stops; Instead replaced with a flash sense of wrongness in his bones and the feeling of tar inside his heart and an indescribable scent — like stale beer and burnt grass and deep dark rot — it has his fingers moving to the trigger before the sight of magic melting through latex can make the short trip from his eyes to his brain—

Glowing lines spring into thin air to form magic circles before their eyes.

The warding totems shatter.

'Pop' goes a head.

Both bodies drop to the ground.

"Could have told me there was a dog." Your words scrape against your throat like shards of glass from the disuse, melted latex stretching into long strands as you take off the cleaner gloves and throw them away, your fingers steaming and glowing hot with mana before you hide them away in tactical gloves.

"I-" Taim tries to say but his voice fails him, eyes and mind still blinded by the harsh glare of magical fire.

"Save it." You cut him off, pulling open the lip of the trash bag to dig out your facemask helmet. It's both a full face helmet and a gasmask, scratched up from years of use but still able to protect your head while keeping you anonymous. A shame it can't filter out the stench of burnt flesh, but you've gotten used to it.

Taim's vision clears and the moment his eyes settle on the charred remains of Abdul's head— the hollowed out skull where concentrated flame had burned a hole straight through everything in it's path, the flesh and bone charred black —he's scrambling away as fast as his feet can push him, the shattered remains of your warding totem crumbling beneath his fingers. Bile rises in his throat and he coughs when he breaths in, but his stomach is thankfully empty so he ends up dry heaving.

"On your feet." Your words are hard to understand under your gasmask, but you don't need to raise your voice. The tone you use has him scrambling to his feet in seconds.

"I- I- yes sir!" Taim manages to stutter out, doesn't even have to fake his fear as he stands at attention. He watches you reach into the dirty water to pull out a Handheld Personal Computer and shake off the residual droplets to ensure it still works before putting it in your pocket.

"When is the next check in?" You ask, reaching further into the trash bag to grasp the handhold on the heavy gas canister hidden beneath office trash. You pull it out without much effort, setting it carefully on the ground so you can recheck that the release valve is intact.

"20 minutes sir." Taim responds and he doesn't need to know Arabic to know what's inside the canister when a grinning skull is printed on the metal.

You let out a low sound, and Taim tries not to peer too closely at you. Sometimes he wonders what face a person who burns people alive without a single second of hesitation could have, but then you look at him and he sees that unnatural glow of mana in your eyes behind the darkened lenses of the helmet and he's glad he's met with the emotionless visage of the mask rather than the one beneath it.

"You have 10 to get out before Hell opens up." You say, standing back up and picking up the canister without complaint. "Use the emergency tunnels, don't spook the VIPs."

Taim is human, not sensitive to magic like the monsters are, but even he can feel the latent mana in your veins that strengthens your body. Like maggots at the back of his skull. It makes a second round of bile rise to his throat. "Yes sir."

You pay close attention to him until he disappears down the corridor before going the opposite way. Alone, it is easier to calm the lingering heat in your veins until the eternal engine of mana in your chest fizzles down to embers like a sleeping beast. Can't have your mana mess with sensitive electronics, even if that does leave you exposed on the cams (as if there's anyone alive to watch them)

"Ifrit, status?" The small radio in your ear crackles.

"Moving to the target, encountered and neutralized a wolf." You answer, taking sharp turns as you follow a path you'd memorized beforehand. "No other monsters to report."

You were lucky to run into one down in the bowels of the conference hall instead of at the front gate. Otherwise your espionage mission would have turned into a frontal assault. Not that Khaled would have minded, you were getting paid to send a loud statement after all.

"Good." You don't need to see his face to know he's smirking, your employer wasn't a huge fan of subhumans. "Continue to the objective."

You respond in affirmative, coming to a heavy metal door, locked with a passcode and even a palm scanner; It's all a valiant effort to keep sensitive data safe, but it may as well be cardboard to you. You summon another circle, this time right on the door, biting your tongue. You're not good with 'subtle' but you haven't forgotten what Taurus or Sierra had taught you; first pushing a bit of loose ash magic between the large atoms making up the metal to disrupt the bonds, then a single pulse of fire ignites the volatile ash and has the entire bottom half crumbling into red hot shards.

Molten slag drips down to the floor when you duck down under the remaining half of the door to find yourself in the server room. Steam rises when the cold air meets your hot skin, but you hardly notice as you first head to the ventilation system at the back of the room. It's dark, but you don't bother turning on the lights, the subtle mana in your eyes enough to give you primitive night vision.

"Ifrit to Alpha-Actual, connecting the payload right now." You say, setting the canister down. The ventilation collects the air from the server room to push it through the entire building and then outside, so all you have to do is melt a hole through the exit pipe until it's big enough for the hose on the canister to fit snugly inside.

"And the files?" Khaled's voice sounds in your ear once you're finished.

"Going now." Standing back up you head to the central server. Taking out the HPC you hook it up to the mainframe, watching the screen until it shows 'connection secure'. "I'm connected."

"Copy that." Your eyes scan the cracked screen (which you broke less than a week after getting it), seeing the file transfer start before Khaled even finishes speaking and trying to read and memorize the names of dozens the files but they change too quickly. "File transfer ETA 5 minutes. Sit tight."

Giving confirmation you keep an eye on the doorway. Though you are positioned in such a way that you'd see the shadow of someone coming in before they see you, years of being behind enemy lines and acting as a friendly to your foes has taught you to be careful. Especially when you can't use more than a smidgeon of mana without frying the entire server system.

You are lucky that no-one comes, the remaining guards too busy guarding the diplomats above you to check what's beneath their noses. While waiting you access the public stream to watch the peace talks, setting the sound to the lowest possible setting so you can keep an eye on the diplomats in case you need a change of plan.

"Got the files, you're clear to finish." You're moving before Khaled can finish speaking, leaving the HPC to hang by the cord from the server. "Oh, and remember: Loud."

"You get what you pay for sir." Kneeling down next to the gas canister you check to ensure your gas mask is firmly on and breathing in deeply; It restricts your breathing and makes muscles work harder, but your body is so used to it that it feels like coming back home.

"Letting the gas out now." Even with the gas mask you still hold your breath when you open the valve, the gas hissing as it escapes the canister, the fan right next to you helping push it through the system. You know there's not enough gas to reach the diplomats on the top floor, it's part of the plan, so when the gas pitters out you cast another circle inside the pipe.

The servers around you flicker meekly and crackle with electricity when you use your mana fully; Something intense and suffocating burns behind your sternum for just a second before liquid mana is rushing down your veins into your hands and coming out through the magic circle as copious amounts of ash.

The rotating fan right next to you spews some of your ash right back at you, flooding the server room in magic that has long since accepted your body enough not to hurt you. But even your seasoned stomach feels tight when you breathe in the mixture of ash and toxic gas, the chemicals turning your magic a nasty shade of green, and you make a mental note to change the filter when you're done with the op otherwise the toxified sediment collecting in there will poison you for months.

You can hear the diplomats begin to cough over the livestream in the HPC, but it all feels so distant when you shift and feel cold dog tags press against your burning chest. They're light like a noose around your neck, yet the absence of weight mocks you in a way their owners no longer can.

There's a familiar sting in your bones when your mana reservoir begins dwindling, but it's easy to push through it until the engine in your chest goes into overdrive from the stress the magic puts on your body. You only stop when the burning mana in your veins starts burning small holes in the sleeves of the janitor jacket, revealing bits of your mage marked skin.

Stopping the flow of ash your hands find themselves in your pocket, taking out a lighter. It's one of those old zippo lighters, the exterior is rusted from years of action and numerous initials are scratched into the metal, but somehow it still functions; It's the strange thing about it— the more you use it, the longer it lasts. Stop, and it dies.

"It's a bit like you, firebug."

Absentmindedly you trace the scratched initials in the metal, trying to ignore the hollowness in your chest when the screams beyond the smokescreen of ash start sounding familiar.

"Going dark." You say to them, flicking it open.

One spark is all it takes.

. . .

With Makarov having gone underground like a wanker after his escape from the gulag, Price and Laswell had been stuck with their heads in mountains of paperwork searching for the bastard. Price had known he'd be in for a headache the moment he agreed to let the boys watch a live football game between England and Scotland, but he reasoned they'd all been working hard enough to earn even a small break.

At the very least it gave them all a moment of reprieve from the stress of a possible world war.

It didn't stop Soap from being a bloody muppet.

"Oh fockin' 'ell!" Soap roars and jumps to his feet, growling at the teli where a ref held a red card above her head. "That should've been a yellow! Fock, one more eye and the ref's a right cyclops." He waves obscenities at the teli as if the ref can see them, his tail hitting Gaz every time it wagged.

"Soap!" Gaz groans and stretches one black wing to smack the werewolf over the head with his long flight feathers to stop him blocking the screen.

Though Gaz's wings are hollow, the smack still hurts. "Ow, what's that for?" Soap groans, rubbing the back of his head.

"At least take your defeat with a wee bit of dignity." Gaz smirks, folding his wings.

"Bold assumption he has any." Ghost mutters next to Price, making him chuckle.

“Oh ho! I’ll get me dignity when the bloody ref gets off 'er knees an’ stops blowing the entire game.” Soap turns to playfully snap his teeth at Gaz. "And what's tha-"

The football match cuts out, replaced with a news segment.

"-Oh, what the fock?" Soap grows quiet when the newscaster begins speaking.

"We interrupt your regularly scheduled programming to bring you breaking news. As we speak, the conference hall in Al Mazra, where diplomats from over 40 countries had come to discuss peace and trade agreements with the newly reinstated Urzikstan government, burns in the flames of another terrorist attack."

The footage shifts to a drone filming a bird's eye view shot of violent flames spewing from every hole and window to engulf the entire three story building in consuming fire, heavy plumes of smoke rising into the sky like a maw of a hungering beast to spew a storm of ash and cinders down to the ground. The clouds of ash have a sick green undertone to them.

"Shit." Gaz sucks in a breath.

"Mokarov's done hiding." Ghost notes, leaning in to look closely at the screen with narrowed eyes.

"How the fock did we miss this?" Soap asks the question in their minds, turning to look at Price. "This popped up like bloody whack-a-mole."

At that same time Price's phone rings. The dragon quickly fishes it out of his pocket, seeing Laswell's name as the caller ID before he picks it up while the reporter drawls on.

"Price, are you-"

"Yeah, I'm watching the teli." He cuts her off, knowing what she's going to say. Distantly he can hear the same news report sounding on her end.

"Authorities warn citizens to vacate the immediate area as toxic gas has been detected in the air. Military forces are already enroute, but the prospects for the diplomats survival are nonexistent."

Price's draconic eyes focus on the screen when the footage shifts to that inside the conference hall. Two diplomats argue about something Price can't begin to try and untangle, his focus on one man near the back who begins coughing. More follow suit, and even over the screen Price can tell the signs of toxic gas inhalation by the way more diplomats begin wheezing and coughing wetly.

"This isn't the Russians." Kate says after Price has put her on speaker.

"How come? Looks like some terrorist shite Makarov would pull." Johnny says, his tail curled up and the tip wagging occasionally as he pays attention to the screen.

Seconds later plumes of blackish-green smog erupt from the vents above the diplomats, spewing out with such force it knocks the the camera and the man behind it down to the ground. Ash Magic, Price realizes when he sees smoldering cinders drift almost peacefully in the all consuming fog. Seconds later something causes a spark and the volatile ash magic explodes.

"Ash mage." Ghost grunts, "Just great."

"Makarov doesn't use mages." Price says, scratching his beard.

"No, but Al-Asad does." Kate's voice drifts through the silent room as they watch several APC's arrive on the scene, armored soldiers exiting. But without any monsters who can stomach the heat like Price and with the fog of ash so thick it could be cut with a knife, the best they can do is secure the perimeter. "The CIA intercepted his broadcast before it went public, this is just the start."

Gaz hops off the couch, crossing the small distance to tap one claw at the screen. "What is that?" He asks. Seemingly hearing him, the drone camera focuses on where the main entrance of the building had been.

A dark silhouette of a person can be seen in the flames, growing darker and more refined until finally a featureless helmet emerges from the flames, a deep glow emanating from behind the lenses. It's followed by a body, clothes burnt away in some parts but the flesh beneath unharmed. Price can tell immediately it's a mage by the state of the arms — even from far away it's easy to tell the mage marks, the skin turned rough and dark like cooled magma, veins brimming with volatile mana.

Before the soldiers can fire a single bullet you lift one hand up, the dark mage marks turning to bright like fresh lava when mana flows from your chest to your fingers. A magic circle etches itself into the ground in an instant, so large the surrounding buildings fall into it's perimeter.

And with a second motion of your hand everything erupts into an all consuming cloud of ash.

Laswell's voice rings out. "That's Khaled's new attack dog."

Price and Ghost share a look, both know what will happen long before some nervous soldier caught in the ash cloud pulls the trigger. The cloud of ash explodes the second a spark is created in a weapon's chamber, plunging everything into chaos.

Great, a new wanker to worry about.

Price sighs, brows furrowing. "That's trouble all right."

Tag list: @resident-cryptid @diejager @lovingtyrantkitten @lieutnt

Masterlist <- Chapter 1 (you are here) -> Chapter 2

You can imagine the helmet however you want, but it's in the style of the Devtac Ronin helmet.

[amplifyme]

Bonus content (had a lot of free time~)!

Dead of Winter: Winterfest! Seeing it breathed life into Nan's work; and it made the entire episode so bittersweet knowing how the series ends and Nan continues it. Paracelsus and Narcissa (go Narcissa) and Pascal-- what a great trio dynamic. Father just wanting to chat with people or play a game-- happiest with one-on-one deep conversations with a battle of wits on the side. The children are great (every child in this series pretty much knocks it out of the park.) The magician!! I knew him immediately from Nan's work even if I don't have a firm grasp (or didn't at the time) of all the characters in the community. He's marvelous, I love him. No one dying, everyone living, Father and Paracelsus, Mary's concerns, Cathy and Vincent's storyline (and dance-- shadows on a wall. Very fitting.) Paracelsus may have killed for a face, but he could not touch the rest of the community.

As a sidenote: saw some disgruntled murmurings about the increased violence in S3-- "for the ratings/to appeal to a wider audience, aka males"-- and wondered... there's pretty much a death or a tragedy in every episode. (And yes, I'm picking up on the S2 themes you passed along to me. Love watching tv/movies or consuming media with that underlying "insider knowledge.") Was it truly so different, or was that element only elevated or highlighted more aggressively by the fans because they felt Cathy's loss?

God Bless The Child: I love, love, love Lena. It's amazing how much I connected to her instantly; and even more amazing that I'm not bothered a bit that Nan took her in the direction she did. Her all-or-nothing attitude was already there, as was her sideways way of attaching and connecting herself to people-- even if both were done with the most innocent intent. Her scene listening to Father and the children sing was beautiful. And the decisive way the episode exposed and handled how easy it is to tamper with Vincent's intentions through his emotions and rejections was stellar. Nan just building and building and building was all I could see in every scene-- the episode writers and her later work fit together seamlessly. And Lena keeping herself in this weird triangular bond of closeness with Cathy and Vincent through her daughter was so pure of intent here and so twisted in Nan's work. Would go on raving, but I have other thoughts: Cathy and Vincent and baby Catherine-- at this point, the series pretty much "dooms" them to never having a family (let alone a normal life); but I loved that it showed their legacy can live on in any child, just as all the community lives on in each other. It's a beautiful message, especially when built on top of Father and Vincent's own bond. Cathy and Vincent understanding with and still keeping friendship with Lena was good and noble (minus the final outcome from Nan and all THAT lead to); and Vincent recognizing that Lena's feelings (feeling them himself) were becoming romantic but hoping they'd sway away was a great touch. Being there for the birth of baby Cathy and wanting to name her is another touch: while Vincent is invested in the baby's wellbeing, there's still an element of equal feeling between her and the rest of the community he loves and protects whereas Lena thought that "a baby would fix things" to put it crudely. (Another thing Nan tapped into, bravo. Another thing that Nan brought out: Cathy brought Lena back; but when she died, that wall of loyalty that kept her from Vincent-- if not emotionally-- crumbled down rather quickly, like her rejection did here in the episode. Nan masterfully handles a person with a character trait that can be used primarily as a good or protective measure and then twist it into a flaw, or vice versa.)

Needless to say, these are my first draft opinions (like all the other posts); and I think?? Laura is the next episode (if my interpretation of the pic on Paramount is correct.)

Truthfully there's not a whole lot I can add to your thoughts about Dead of Winter. You covered all the highlights. And you're right about the child actors - they were always so, so good. The waltz at the end is perfection, and didn't go on nearly long enough for my sappy heart.

More below

As a sidenote: saw some disgruntled murmurings about the increased violence in S3-- "for the ratings/to appeal to a wider audience, aka males"-- and wondered… there's pretty much a death or a tragedy in every episode. (And yes, I'm picking up on the S2 themes you passed along to me. Love watching tv/movies or consuming media with that underlying "insider knowledge.") Was it truly so different, or was that element only elevated or highlighted more aggressively by the fans because they felt Cathy's loss?

You'll find as you get further into S2 that there's much less violence on Vincent's part. He very rarely has to kill for Cathy or the tunnel community this season - for quite a long time, anyway. There is an extended respite from the impulsive rages of the Other, which allows Vincent to begin to reconcile his previous killings and expand his definition of what kind of life might be possible with Cathy. So it strikes him much more deeply when shit goes sideways later on, leading to the events of the trilogy.

So, anyway, no, I don't think there was increased violence in S3, not compared to S1 anyway. But I guess if you're comparing it to most of S2, then you could see it that way. But... the complaints of the Classic fans were certainly exacerbated by their grief at the loss of Cathy in S3. And it is much darker in tone. But you have to keep in mind that most (not all) Classic fans tend to think of Vincent as just a guy who happens to look kinda like a lion. Most still refuse to consider him in any way a true "beast." While folks who were primarily drawn to Vincent (raising my hand) were captivated by and intrigued by that very aspect of the beast, and Vincent's struggles against that part of himself. I mean, the show is called Beauty and the Beast. You can't have Beauty without the Beast. And Koslow (the creator) always made it very clear that Vincent wasn't to be written as just a man, he was very definitively a beast.

God Bless The Child: I love, love, love Lena. It's amazing how much I connected to her instantly; and even more amazing that I'm not bothered a bit that Nan took her in the direction she did.

Right?? One can absolutely adore Lena while still believing that she could act out very selfishly.

And the decisive way the episode exposed and handled how easy it is to tamper with Vincent's intentions through his emotions and rejections was stellar.

It's that damned empathic gift of his getting in the way. You've expressed all my thoughts about God Bless the Child perfectly. However, I have to add this line of Vincent's to Father that I think I'll remember even if everything else about this ep fades in memory:

"When Lena came to me, there was a moment, a… pull beyond thought, when I felt what it might be like to be someone else’s possibility."

It's bittersweet to think of thirty-something Vincent never before realizing that someone might be attracted to him and want to be with him just the way he is, right off the bat, and not because of some empathic bond or any other reason, but just because. It reminds me of Portrait By Flashlight in AWTN 2 and Jessica saying this to him:

“My dear boy, find a mirror, a pool, anything, and really look into it. You are not what you think you are. Nor what Father sees. Perhaps it takes a stranger, and a woman, to see what you all seem altogether blind to: that you are astonishingly, strikingly attractive, Vincent. Beautiful as great art is beautiful, beautiful in motion as any dancer, or as the tiger your beloved Billy Blake envisioned burning in the forests of the night. But one is not allowed to say so. One is not bloody well allowed—”

Onward...

[sierrawr]

hey you 🤍 can you imagine the gasp i let out when i saw that u updated siren 😦😦😦 i was like WORLD PAUSE. gotta read!!!! ok i like how we're still getting to know the characters & now im sure mr yang is just sussy asf 🤨🤨🤨 anyways... with how jungwon and serena left off before he got sent away im looking forward to see how they'll reunite and hopefully reconcile with each other need me a powerful sibling duo!!! and then jayrena AGAIN JAY SIR URE NOT SLEEK 🧐🧐 "is this how it feels like if im dating you someday?" IF U DONT STOP RIGHT THERE ✋

also how long do you plan for siren to be? bc as much as i love the mystery and thriller, id love to see more of jayrena's dynamics and how they'd work out <333 DEFINITELY OFCOURSE YOU GET A FINAL SAY BC ITS UR STORY and u dont have to include what i say if thats not what u like and want !!! but i also want to say that i really look forward to ur updates and cant wait to see what you have in store for the future updates 🤍

🤍 anon xx

🦋: Hii!! Once again you made my day feels better because I was really struggling with mental breakdowns, and kind of disappointed by the lack of feedbacks since I am really insecure and overthinks a lot about my works 😭 I squealed while reading your beautiful words bcs it always reminds me that I gotta do what I do despite the trouble with motivation. I can't thank you enough 🥺

At this point, everyone seems suspicious since each of them have a secret to hide ~~ And yass, Serena and Jungwon would be a powerful siblings duo indeed, if only Serena told him the truth from the beginning 😔 Jay is also keep on levelling up his ✨rizz✨ bcs I figured that would add a little bit of spice and sugar with balance to the thriller and mysterious vibes.

I did think about how far I want to go with the length of "Siren" chapters. But so far, I'm just going with the flow, bcs I'm the type that is spontaneous with free-writing and see how it goes within the updates due to my random burst of spontaneous energy. But maybe it might be a bit long because I thought about publishing it on my wattpadd account. Despite my spontaneous idea while writing, sometimes, I also like to have the difference and planned about what I'm going to write with details. For "Siren", there were chapters that I planned with details which goes up to 6 hours and above, and chapters that I just spontaneously write in less than 3 hours. I want to talk about this actually on my feed but I barely got any interactions so I think like "ahh, maybe I don't really have to do that" because it might seemed like I'm full og myself lol.

AWWW!! Thanks a lot for loving Jay and Serena 💕💞 If you prefer to have more of Jay and Serena, I will gladly try my best to add more of their moment throughout the chapters 🥰 It is my story/work but ofc the reader also can have their own part when it comes to improvement of the story. Don't hesitate to give me any opinion or feedbacks about the fic bcs I that helps me a lot in the writing progress 😚I can always consider to include the feedbacks when I see fit 🌻Thanks again dear for looking forward to it!! You're literally my motivation and one of the reason why I keep continuing the update for "Siren" 🌹💐

P/s: Sorry for the longg essay, I have this habbit of over explaining things 😭

[reluctant-fan-girl]

My thoughts on 139 as an Ereri shipper

Buckle up for a long read and some unpopular opinions haha. Feel free to add on/ correct me but this is only how I feel so take it with a pinch of salt, I'm not asking anyone to change how they feel because we're all feeling some feels right now and your grief is valid. I just really wanna talk about the chapter before I go back to my Yaoi ship. (Forgive my grammar errors and all I wrote this at 5am and I'll probably come back and fix the spelling and stuff later today)

Thoughts on ch 139:

Well... here we are guys. The last chapter, it's been one hell of a ride and even though I have only been a part of the community for three years I'm still sad it ended. (Not to mention it finished 4 days before my birthday but that's just an extra oof) I keep seeing a lot of Mikasa hate and even though I used to despise her this chapter really got me thinking and damn, she's definitely one of the strongest characters (second to Levi at least in terms of resolve but hey I'm biased lol) she killed the person she loved, who pushed her away time and time again, and until the very end wanted to save him yet she was the one who ended it all. I doubt I could do that if my girlfriend was doing something similar... but I guess most people are like that. I admit, when I read the chapter at work I began crying in the break room, not because the ending caught me off guard, it was about what I was expecting, but I'm still sad Eren died. All this stuff was foreshadowed through especially the last few chapters and I kind of hopped into the manga around when Zeke blew Levi up, and even then... I feel like I knew this would be how it turned out some time last year? It was mostly predictable since this story, from it's inception, has done nothing but break the shonen stereotype time and time again and this was just the kind of ending that would shatter the mould and make it worthy of that moniker. Now am I happy that Eremika is canon? Not really, in fact not at all I'm mad. Although tbh it's not that I really expected a same sex, age gap relationship to be canon in mainstream manga, but this is what fan fiction is made for right? Besides as much as this manga has challenged or straight up ignored it's very obvious what the intended ship was going to be from the start. Even still the confession at the end by Eren is honestly OOC from most of everything else he's said/done and feels forced but, 🤷🏻‍♀️ like... the ending would have been better if Eren's feelings stayed vague so we could come to our own conclusion. If I had my way I'd have Eren confessing to Levi and they'd run off to live in secret but again... that isn't how it ended and I'm accepting that even if I don't like it. (Plus I can read/write a fanfic of a 'better' ending to make myself feel better) but I'm glad I stuck around for such a bitter sweet end.

Eren's character:

Now I love Eren as much as anyone else, but I see lots of people crying "character assassination" and I feel this personally isnt true at least not completely. We're all grieving right now and I know he was so cute and lovable at the start (hell in a way he still is) but this has always been his character. He is the one who most desperately yearns for freedom because feels trapped by his fate more than anyone else. The line "I felt like I had to and I let myself get caught up in the flow" is proof he *knows* he isn't free despite his father's reassurance, and his own repetition of the phrase. There's a common phenomenon with mantras or the practice of repeating something over and over in your head, the more you say it, *the less you believe it* and IMHO Eren never really felt free from the start. He knew his fate was sealed and he probably could have, no... *should* have acted differently yet he himself couldn't change what fate had in store. He just kept moving forward for no other reason than he wanted to save Mikasa, Armin, and his people. He (may have?) sacrificed Carla, not to serve as motivation, but so that he could save Armin later on by eating the Colossal titan instead of burning to death. It must have been a heart wrenching choice to make but he cares for his friends more than anyone else. He gave them a fighting chance and his death gave the alliance a good name so the world (or the 20% left of it) would see they aren't the same as him. Of course I'm thinking, "What if he had Dina free Carla or just let her eat Bert I mean Grisha probably would have passed on the Attack titan to Eren even if Carla had lived," but Armin very well could've died in another way or things could've turned out so much worse for everyone else. But even if Eren hates his choice I think something to note here is he doesn't seem to regret it, taking some of Levi's advice with him to the grave (quite literally) Plus you guys have to remember he died at 19 years old, that is *young* and I may only be a few years older but 18-21 is a huge period of change and you wont make the best choices, he's dealing with all that on top of the memories of the other titan holders, and the founding titan which I think really messed with him more than anything. He even says he only wants to live 10 more years ;-; the poor thing deserved a full life too even if his perception of time is warped and he never got a chance to become an adult.

The aftermath:

Well, everyone seems happy for the most part which is great! The one thing that I didn't expect was for the ending to be bitter sweet rather than total annihilation. Historia really does seem... fuck it I don't know and this is the part that bugs me most is she never really got the ending she deserved and felt kinda... forgotten? It's hard to tell but I think she ended up loving her child in the end... maybe... she's smiling while holding her... right? Levi is out beyond the walls and he may be wheelchair bound and half blind but he's still alive! Now this is honestly my saving grace here I mean god imagine him surviving a literal bomb only to die such a lame and pointless death in the last chapter. My boy made it through everything though and he's still got them dad vibes with Gabi and Falco which is kinds sweet... but I still hate Gabi. I still really hate Gabi, but it's nice to see that they're all somewhat okay. (Plus okay... Eren Canonically being reborn as a bird is kinda hilarious yet fitting since he got his freedom... Parasitic Jaeger haha good one Isayama.) Who knows if the war will ever end, heck Isayama himself said this is only the begining and while the fight goes on they have a chance thanks to Eren sacrificing himself the way he did. He could've made so many other choices and I don't know what could've/would've been better. Maybe Isayama knows but time travel and altering the past opens a whole ass can of worms that is just... like the killing your grandpa paradox kinda thing and if I were writing this story I wouldn't wanna try and deal with that either, especially after writing one story for eleven years.

(LEVI LIVED MY BEST BOI LIVED WHOOOO YESS 😭😭😭 ALL I COULD ASK FOR AHHH) *cough* sorry I had some crying fan girl in me that demanded to be seen too

Anyways this was just my thoughts for now, I may eventually write more and hell I'll probably go back to sweet sweet denial myself, posting contradictions because dammit I love my ereri too much and some people have good points or some posts are just funny in general. Have a good day, stay safe, and we are all in this together <3 Thanks for reading all the way if you did! (And here's a good meme to lighten the mood too)

[sunshinetoshi]

@anastasijaiwaizumi asked me a super interesting question!! wanted to answer it separately bc of the trigger warnings so everything will be below the cut just in case

tw: mentions of potential abuse (physical, verbal, emotional), mention of breakups/heartache

pls make sure you read through the trigger warnings above and always feel free to exit out of this post if you feel uncomfortable <33

here's the original ask if you wanted to read through it:

okay onto my long ramble of an answer HAHA

so this really caught my eye bc i remember seeing a pinterest post about 'the 3 loves' back when i was in hs and it's wild to me how my perspective on the manner has changed quite a bit. ofc everything here is my personal opinion so pls keep that in mind

i think first it's important to add a disclaimer about the concept itself. back when i first encountered this years ago it made so much sense to me but it also put some insecurity that i would some day or eventually have a relationship that ends in heartache. there are people i know now where this actually applies with the relationships they're in or have had but as a person who hasn't been in a relationship yet (we can roast me about this another day AJHDHD LMAO) i think it's important to know we aren't bound to this concept of 3 loves because everyone's experiences are different.

the question itself is soo good imo and in case you missed it the question asked which characters i think would fit each type of love.

i think this was asking for my own personal answer and tbh mine sounds like a cop out answer ajdhhd i feel bad but also it's just true. basically i picture all my haikyuu faves as the third love. B O R I N G /j HAHAHA i know i know but when i think of their love and my self ships with them it really is the third love. okay but just so i have an answer ushijima and kuroo are my tippy top boys so they'd definitely be the third kind of love (i love them equally so i have both as my answer ajdjdj - not even in a poly way i am just too soft to actually pick just one lol)

i think the concepts of the first and second loves are SUPER interesting to me personally when i think about writing and creating fics that can delve into what those two types of love are. like the second one is what i aim for when i write angst but that doesnt mean i truly think the character would be like that you know?? like i said a cop out answer ahh but even w the amount of angst i've written i really dont think i could personally put a name down lol i really said 'no heartbreak for meee 🤪🤪' HAHA i cant w myself

OKAY i will say that in regards to timeskip jobs i can have somewhat of an answer to who would be my first type of love (also pls ignore how out of order i spoke about each). but my friends and i talked about deal breakers and what we would be okay with in a relationship and i was just REALLY curious (and really in a brainrot) so i asked about if your partner worked in a funeral home. YEAH I WAS THINKING ABOUT MATSUKAWA. they all said hard no bc of a multitude of reasons. now before mattsun entered my life i also said a hard no for my own reasons bUT NOW I HAVE READ TOO MANY FICS AND ANALYSIS OF MATTSUN AND I JUST LOVE HIM SO MUCH THAT IDK. so in terms of THAT i might put him in the first love category if i had to. dont get me wrong i'd still marry him and want to support his career and all that he's literally in my top 4 self ships BUT YOU HAVE TO ADMIT HIS JOB MAKES YOU HAVE THINKY THOUGHTS LMAO. ALSO HAHA funny story when i asked my friends there was girl who's into hq too so i was like "but matsukawa 🥺🥺" and she was like "babe i'm sorry but that's a 2d man" BAHAH CALLED ME OUT FR FR

so yeah those are my thoughts and kind-of-answers lol i think this is super interesting and it felt like i was just talking to yall like we were at a sleepover so i had fun HAHA. thank you for asking this lovely!! i hope your day/night is going well too and that you're taking care of yourself 💓💓 love youuuu tooooooo

(OH also here's the article link in case you wanted it but i think it was summarized well in the ask!!)