#( he was already losing his faith - i don't see how living through that nightmare would strengthen his trust in god?? )

[therosepetalrps]

Hierophant shuddered as his trembling hands cupped her face. The air between them was thick and, when she went to take a breath, she felt like a fish gasping on land. Her own hands lifted instinctively, curling around his wrists - manacles.

Her eyes were wide and soft as a child's, all artifice swept away in the tide of his haunting voice. He wasn't just resigned to his fate - he was offering himself, an animal sacrifice at the feet of an unfeeling goddess. His touch was more than gentle, it felt reverent.

"You are beautiful, my angel of death."

She felt a shiver down her spine, an awakening deep in her guts. It was the most romantic thing she had ever heard. More romantic than any sap found between the pages of her beloved Mills and Boon paperbacks. The dying light outside spilled in through the window, making both of their eyes sparkle; his with tears, hers with wonder.

"Angel of death," she repeated, almost dazed, wanting a taste of the divine words for herself.

She was smitten, plain and simple. Like flicking a switch and filling a room with light or - more accurately - plunging it into darkness.

When she was a little girl, she'd always played with the broken toys. She never wanted the doll enshrined in its plastic box, every sleek hair perfectly aligned. Any little girl could come along and pick those up, and call them her own. It was only the toys broken beyond repair that could ever be truly hers.

He looked as though he might kiss her and she hungered for it, tilting her head back and parting her lips.

"God don't want you dead, sweetheart. God loves all his creatures, even the littlest ones. Even clumsy pups like you who can't even chase their own tails." Her eyes searched his, as though relishing in the desperation found there. "And you don't wanna die neither. Not really. You've just been left at the pound too long, and you ain't got nobody ta' take care of ya."

The priest hated himself in that moment; he hated everything going through his mind. She was his salvation that had arrived in the wake of his own downfall. "You're correct; I would not fight back. I will not fight back." The bottle in his hand is set down near the woman's leg on the steps she still sits on. Both his hands reach out to the woman to lightly touch her face as she is staring up at him. They rest just under her chin as he watches her eyes closely. "They say the devil is beautiful, a fallen angel of beauty that can be like no other." He smiles weakly as his eyes glaze with tears.

"You are beautiful, my angel of death." 

Something in the man had broken; it started long before the beggar that night. Even longer than he had realized when he went for the drink. "My death would mean nothing to you, and we both know it." 

He moves forward, practically climbing over the woman, as he perches himself over her. His heart was racing in his chest out of fear more than anything. Kneeling down above her with his hands resting on her shoulders, he said. "This is a confession, my child. I will die whether you kill me now or not, and I will not go painlessly. I will go in the worst of ways without you." Father MacAvoy was hoping just being as he was would trigger the woman's fight response, but he knew if it hadn't soon enough.

His next move would be to grab her by the neck and pull her into him. Kissing the woman, whom he referred to as his own personal 'death'. 

[papayafiles]

i have a draft from ages ago that goes "god i wish i could time travel ten years into the future to see how many world championships lando norris has won" but the more i think about it, the more i think that if i did, via some crazy scifi shenanigans, end up in the future, i would do everything possible to avoid finding out the wdc results. and it's the same reason watching a replay of a race where you already know the results never hits as hard as waking up at the crack of dawn to watch it through a laggy grainy livestream, frantically livetweeting or liveblogging every lock up and overtake, heart in your mouth, the rest of the world falling away, fully locked in on 60 laps of cars just vrooming around and around in loops. because a huge part of this sport is the anticipation, the hope and the faith and the possibility. the not knowing is painful, and the thought that my driver's entire career could pass without that coveted championship—that i could follow him for years into the future, and never get to watch our wildest dreams come true—literally haunts my nightmares. and i know it's a possibility—it happened to so many promising young drivers, due to circumstance or luck or timing or talent or skill or any combination of the above (see daniel ricciardo)—and i know that becoming a world champion is such a rarity, but despite all that, at this moment in time, i'm convinced that lando is a future world champion.

and i think that kind of belief, the whole i don't know where it came from or how i ended up here but i believe it so absolutely this is borderline religious, is a part of what makes being a sports fan so much fun. it's what makes this such a special, magical, incredible experience. getting into sports is the last thing i thought i'd do; i spent my entire childhood not really getting it, because if this is just a game, then why are people losing their heads over something that's not even real? and i have a whole separate monologue about exactly why i think sports are so compelling to so many, which i won't get into in full now, but one of the best parts of it all is getting to believe in something that much. having faith, holding faith, keeping faith over time: the odds are stacked against literally every athlete, because this whole career path is so treacherous and random and slippery; so many things could go wrong so fast, half a tenth of a second and it's all over, but i'm still here, and i believe in my driver always. that's been proven through his past results, obviously, but it's also: i chose him, or he chose me, or some cosmic combination of events occurred circa austria/silverstone 2023, and now i'm in this for life.

i honestly feel so bad for people who have never experienced this kind of fan(girl) experience—and really, i see it a lot, particularly with the whole internet irony epidemic we're in, people who make fun of fans of any celebrity for being sooo parasocial and cringey, for feeling such magnitude of emotion over someone we don't even know, who has no idea we exist, etc etc etc and it's like: i really don't think that's the point? of course the version of lando who lives rent free my head is different to the real 24 year old british adult man probably fast asleep in his monegasque bed rn. when i blog about him and i call him my little guy and my future world champion and my favorite person in the world, that's a version of him who exists in the gray space between the real person, his public media personality, the fervors of my f1/lando norris obsession, everything i've read or written about him, every image or video i've seen, every night i lay awake dreaming about him, etc. and that version of him is my guy. the experiences that led me to the place and the person i am now, one inextricable from the past year-and-a-half of living breathing and loving this sport so much all my friends know i'm a die-hard fan, is special and is mine and is more important than a simple "lol she thinks she knows this millionaire." i lay no claim to the man himself, but this experience, these emotions, this faith, this community and these memories—they're all mine.

one of these days i will watch him cross the finish line in abu dhabi in first place, and i will hear his uncontrollable screams of joy over the radio, the way his voice goes up higher when he's happy and his accent comes in stronger and he suddenly sounds young again, and he'll thank the team back at the factory and he'll thank will and he'll thank his parents and his siblings and his family, and i'll be sitting over my laptop in my lando hoodie sobbing into my hands, and he'll pull into that first place spot and climb out and stand on top of the car that brought him there, and he'll put his fists up in the sky and i'll watch him, and the entire grid will come around to hug and congratulate him, max and oscar and carlos and all the rest of the drivers who love a story and love a new champion and love him, and then he'll take off his helmet and his hair will be all crazy and there will be symmetric balaclava lines on his face, his ears will be flushed red, and he'll be smiling so big and wide, all wild, infectious joy, jenson or nico or hell even david coulthard will do the post-race interviews and they'll ask him how he feels and he'll respond with something that will be plastered on my twitter timeline and then i'll watch him raise the trophy on the podium with this sense of elated disbelief in my chest, and i'll log on here and say "is this real IS THIS REAL" and "i can't believe this is REAL" and "oh my god. oh my god this is actually happening THIS IS REAL MY DRIVER IS A WORLD CHAMPION" and the national anthem will play and he'll throw his head back still grinning and still happy all golden and glowing and radiant, having won it all, and i'll cancel all my plans to cry on the internet about it. it'll be miami 2024 all over again, but magnified and elevated on every single level. and i don't even want to time travel forward and find out for sure when that moment will come, because honestly, i'd rather not rob my future self of the unbelievable feeling when it finally hits, when lando norris world champion passes from the realm of daydreams and manifestations and uncertain tremulous maybes, to certainty, reality, the undeniable truth. to: this is the timeline we're in, and god am i glad, god is it the best one. all those years of waiting and hoping and dreaming and fearing, holding this so carefully in the palms of my hands as if it's a possibility i can make true, somehow, if i just think about it hard enough, delicately enough, cheering him on with everything i have, and now. and here. the champagne pop on the podium, the alchemy playing on repeat, he's getting sprayed from every direction, that ginormous world champion trophy, the shine of his reflection in the gold, the instagram post, the message of gratitude that i'll want to get tattooed onto my eyelids, the tribute video and his name engraved in the annals of history, the entire mtc roaring his name, grandstands of flouro rising to their feet, lando norris formula 1 driver race winner world champion, my guy forever. i want it all. i can't wait i can't wait i can't wait but i will, i'll wait as long as it takes, and this is real to me, to me it's already been written, i'm just waiting for that chapter to arrive. because it will.

[thespiderpals]

somebody

Insomniac!Peter Parker x F!Reader

summary - Peter is always saving everyone else, so for once you want to be the one saving him.

warnings - angst, hurt/comfort, Peter struggles to cope with loss, Peter physically struggling after putting Doctor Octavius away

Everybody needs somebody.

Peter often came home bloodied and covered in bruises. It was never surprising to spot him trying to sneak in through a window in the hopes of not letting you see him like that, but it always hurt you. His pain always hurt you, because he acted like it was nothing for the sake of everyone else. He was too selfless, too self-sacrificing, and every time he went out to face another supervillain you always feared that he wouldn't come home. And not because of a lack of faith in him, but because you knew he would go to any lengths to keep the city safe - to keep you safe - even if it meant losing his life.

So when you see the news of The Raft failing to contain it's prisoners, your heart almost stops at the sight of a familiar red-and-blue hero swinging to the rescue. Your heart sinks to the lowest part of your stomach as you watch the chaos unfold, and witness him being overwhelmed by all the big ones he put away.

And you can't help but cry when he crawls through your window hours later, banged up but okay because Yuri had found him and taken him to the hospital. You can't help but run to him and almost crush his bones again in a hug. You can't help but wet his neck with your tears as you mumble incoherently and tell him how much he scared you - how worried you'd been that you lost him.

And he holds you like he does every time, his arms secure around your waist as he presses several loving kisses to the top of your head. He rubs your back soothingly and tells you he's okay, he's here, and he's not going anywhere. He keeps you against his chest for what feels like forever, but neither of you complain. You're both just glad to be in each other's arms.

"You're so stupid," you tell him with glassy eyes when you finally look up at his tired face.

"I am?" He chuckles, "Why's that?"

"Making me worry so much..." Your hand finds its way to his cheek, and your heart flips as he leans into your touch, contentment on his face at your small but affectionate gesture.

"I'm sorry," he whispers, and you hear the sincerity in his voice.

"I know."

You know he won't stop until he's put every convict back in The Raft. You know he won't stop until he's put an end to Doctor Octavius's plans. So you do the only thing you can, you support him however you're able to. Whatever he needs you to do, you do it. If he needs you at home for the sake of his peace of mind, that's where you go. If he needs you helping out at the F.E.A.S.T center, you're happy to see May again. And you're happy to help the new kid, Miles, adjust.

But when all is said and done, and his heroics give way to tragedy, you're the only one who can stop him from spiralling. When he collapses over May, sobbing uncontrollably, you stand beside him with just as much pain in your heart at the loss of the most important person in both your lives. He blames himself, you already know, and the way he almost crushes your smaller frame in his despair makes your chest ache.

It was never fair to him.

He should never have had to choose.

He's been through enough. Not just in the last eight years, but just the last few days. Losing his mentor, having to fight him, then retrieving the cure only to find out he can't save May AND the city...

Many would be surprised that he's not broken yet.

But they don't see it.

You moved him into your apartment mere hours after he'd been evicted from his. So now that you were living together, you saw everything. The nightmares, the breakdowns, the episodes...you saw all of it.

"May!"

You jerked awake to the sound of Peter's scream, turning quickly to see the man sweating, shaking and in tears. You're quick to move closer to him, wrap your arms around him, and pull him to your chest. You're quick to murmur words of comfort in his ear, into his hair, wherever you can for him to hear.

They don't see him cling to you like you're his lifeline, like you're the only thing keeping him tethered to this world. They don't see how he soaks your shirt with his tears, how his body wracks with sobs as he's bruising your skin with his tight grip. You don't ever mind or care, his strength is the last thing on his mind in those moments and you would rather suffer through the pain than admit he's hurting you. Because he needs you, he needs to hold you, and you don't want to take that away from him.

"I'm here, baby," you reassure him, "It's okay. You're okay." And as you comb your fingers through his hair that you love so much, you mumble the very words he needs to hear. "I love you."

They don't see his hands shaking every time he tries to do menial tasks around the apartment - the way your expression softens and you move over to help him.

"There you go baby," you gently ease the omelettes onto the plates, setting them down on the table for breakfast. "You okay?"

"Yeah," he says shakily, trying to smile at you but you can see the way his lips tremble. "Thanks."

They don't see the way he struggles to deal with inheriting May's house, the way his eyes gloss over as a thousand memories slam into him with the force of a tidal wave. You're sitting on his old bed with him, his hand in yours and your lips pressing reassuring kisses to his shoulder.

"I don't think I could have done this alone," he admits quietly, before looking at you. "Thanks for being here."

"Always," you smile back, squeezing his hand.

He returns the smile, but it fades as he looks around again, "I don't think I can stay here alone either." He looks at you, and runs his thumb across the back of your hand. "Move in with me."

"We were already living together silly," you laugh, resting your head on his shoulder.

"I know," he smiles, "You can bring all your stuff here. Bye bye rent."

You laugh at that and turn to him, "I'll do just that." And then you kiss him, smiling wider when he mumbles 'I love you' against your lips. "I love you too."

No one sees that you're the only reason he's not broken. The only reason he hasn't gone insane. You're always there for him, always there to catch him. He saves the city, and you save him.

Everybody needs somebody, and he's eternally grateful to have you.

He proposes with May's ring, which was willed to him. You're overwhelmed with emotion by the gesture, your heart swelling at the fact that he wanted you to have her ring. And of course you say yes, you've been ready to marry him since before any of this started.

Slowly he starts to heal, and he puts the horrors of the Devil's Breath incident behind him. He chooses to move on, knowing his future looks good with you in it.

"And what would you like for dinner, Mrs Parker?" He teases you every night since you made it official, knowing just how much it flusters you. But that's only a cover, he really likes saying it.

"Hmmm, maybe your world-famous dumplings," you tease back, laughing as you sit at the small table in the kitchen.

"As you wish, my lady."

Slowly, the old Peter Parker comes back to life. He makes more jokes, he sleeps like a log, he's generally more lively and energetic. And you love to see it.

And then Harry Osborn returns.

"You have to meet my wife."

"You're married?! Was I gone for that long?"

When Peter introduces Harry to you, you can see how happy he is and the way his eyes light up is something you haven't seen in a long time. It warms you to see that things are getting better for your hero.

Unfortunately, that peaceful happiness is short-lived.

[themculibrary]

Tony Stark Lives Masterlist

A Boy in Spandex (ao3) - pandaluna pepper/tony G, 8k

Summary: His name was, according to the records of the internship program, Peter Parker. He was eighteen and… and that was basically it. That was all the information about him that Tony could find in the database about the interns. He gaped at the screen and for a moment just listened to Morgan’s chatter in the background as she poured tea for her dolls in order to pretend to have a tea party in the lab.

It didn’t make any sense.

---

After everyone forgot Peter Parker, Tony and Morgan run into him at the tower's interns lab of all places, acting as oblivious as could be. Which naturally means Tony has to look into who this kid is and why he feels so... familiar.

a brighter future (for us) (ao3) - svgurl410 steve/tony T, 3k

Summary: A visit and an offer sets Steve and Tony on a new path.

A Need for You to Stay With Me (ao3) - TwistOfTheLine G, 2k

Summary: "I can't sleep, Mr. Stark," he muttered, now with the courage to be openly honest, and the words made their own way out his tight throat. "I can't go back. I don't want to watch you die again." He tightened his arm in time, forcefully pushing his other one underneath Mr. Stark's body to grab full hold. "I don't want to lose you. I already thought I did once, and I have to relive it every night. I don't want to."

-

Peter was gone for five years. Now, he's been back for several weeks, and he still has nightmares of seeing Tony almost die on the battlefield. Except in his dreams, Tony doesn't make it. It hadn't taken long for Tony to find out about this, and he is persistent in always being there for Peter when he wakes up panicking whenever he's staying over at the cabin

A Negotiation With Death (ao3) - MARVELously3000 pepper/tony N/R, 3k

Summary: Peter grabs onto the gauntlet just as Tony Snaps.

don't fear our futures and dreams (ao3) - ishipallthings steve/tony T, 8k

Summary: “Do you accept this chance, Steve Rogers?” There is no trace of laughter in the Keeper’s voice now, only grave formality.

“I do.” For the first time since Tony had looked at him in that long-ago-2012 and asked you trust me? and Steve had replied without hesitation, Steve feels completely sure in the choice he’s making.

During his journey to return the Infinity Stones, Steve discovers to his horror that Tony is in fact, not dead, but trapped inside the Soul Stone. The Keeper grants Steve one chance to save Tony. He takes it.

eat the world raw (ao3) - AceOnMain (Sangrylah) T, 1k

Summary: Five-years-ago-Tony wouldn’t have said anything. Five-years-ago-Tony would have let the kid keep his hero-worship, his faith, and hope to never fuck up.

Five-years-ago-Tony hadn’t felt his kid melt in his arms.

///

Post-Endgame, Tony and Peter have a Conversation.

Eavesdrop (ao3) - Shiko_Barnes G, 1k

Summary: Peter accidentally hears a conversation between Tony, Natasha and Steve when he's visiting Tony in the hospital.

I'm here for you, always (ao3) - MarleytheHobbit peter/mj, pepper/tony T, 24k

Summary: Tony Stark's heart stopped.

Peter heard it, slowing, slowing, then gone.

His third father-figure was dead, and he couldn't stop it.

A.K.A.

Tony dies on the battlefield in Endgame, then revived by the Wakandans. But Peter had passed out before witnessing that, and has no idea that Tony is alive. It doesn't help that Pepper and Rhodey forgot to tell him.

I Only Sink Deeper the Deeper I Think (ao3) - Chara426 T, 1k

Summary: It all started with a link—one measly web address from Mr. Stark.

Or: When Peter receives an article from Tony about PTSD, Peter promises himself that he'll support his mentor/father figure no matter what challenges he has to go through. But Tony isn't the only one with post-traumatic stress.

Just Need A Little Time (ao3) - Sokeyy T, 1k

Summary: After returning from the Snap, Peter doesn't quite know how he fits in to this crazy world anymore, or if he even wants to fit in. Tony tries his best to help his kid, but what can he do if Peter just isn't ready to be okay?

Written for Whumptober Day 16: Would you lie with me and just forget the world?

My Kingdom Come Undone (ao3) - losingmymindtonight peter/mj G, 4k

Summary: Peter thought he had been afraid before. He thought he knew what it smelled like, tasted like, how it settled heavy-weight in his chest. He thought that he knew fear better than almost anybody else on the planet, except maybe Tony, and he certainly thought that he had a right to think that, after everything.

But the fear that filled him as soon as The Daily Bugle flashed up that picture of him was a new fear. It was so new, so foreign, that it almost spilled into grief. -- Peter's identity is revealed. In this timeline, he has the Starks to run to.

quarantined in a bad dream (ao3) - peternumber4 pepper/tony, implied happy/may G, 4k

Summary: Red represents justice. Heroes. Captain America.

Iron Man.

To Peter, red means death. Carnage. Images that burn so deep into your eyelids that you’ll never quite be the same.

As he stares at the motionless body of his mentor, he can’t help but lose all past respect for the color red. It saturates the scene before him—the tarnished red of Tony’s suit, the blood dripping down his face, the small fires scattered throughout the remains of the compound. He’ll never be able to enjoy it in the same way again, not after it’s been tainted in such a jarring way.

Right Where I Belong (ao3) - alexcat steve/tony G, 1k

Summary: After Endgame, Steve struggles with Tony's injuries. Will he ever recover?

Take a Chance On Me (ao3) - stark-contrast (dweetwise) steve/tony T, 4k

Summary: After wielding the Infinity Stones, many things change in Tony's life.

The most annoying one being that Steve won't leave him alone.

Take Me Back (before I fall apart) (ao3) - orphan_account T, 26k

Summary: “Look, you want to run experiments, then let me be there with him. I’ll hold him down, I’ll keep him quiet, I’ll let you do what you want, just let me see him!”

“You’re not getting the picture.” It’s his voice, his face, his hands spread in perfect poise. Gesturing at his Westmancott suit, the impostor says with a soulless smile, “Tony Stark is already there.”

The Important Things (ao3) - MsWinifredQuale pepper/tony T, 5k

Summary: The Battle for Earth is over, Thanos and his armies defeated.

The to-do list for what comes next is already a mile long, but right now, Tony can only focus on the most important things- his kids. Both of them.

The Picture of Peter Parker (ao3) - Optimistique G, 6k

Summary: "He doesn’t realize he’s crying until a tear falls on the glass. He rubs it off with his sleeve. The Peter in the picture is so happy. Was so excited to be receiving the internship title, so that he could officially put on his college applications what he was already doing anyway: building things in the lab with Tony Stark. They saw each other almost weekly, by the end.

'I can’t do this', Tony thinks, gazing at the young face. He can’t recall the good memories without immediately remembering what that face looked like as he panicked on Titan, and then the resignation that crossed his features as he died.

He has to put the picture back face down."

A look into those five years Tony spent without the boy who he had come to view as a son. Complete with an alternate ending for Avengers: Endgame.

To find a home (in you and me) (ao3) - stanielthemaniel G, 6k

Summary: Peter has no plans for Father's Day. Why would he? He doesn't have a dad to create any plans around.

Turns out all it takes to change that is one phone call from a very determined, very stubborn Morgan Stark.

Uneven Odds (ao3) - kingdomfaraway peter/mj, pepper/tony, happy/may T, 18k

Summary: As if summoned by his mentor’s worry, the Iron Spider suit came to a rolling landing, a few feet from them, and the kid popped up in his view, rushing over. “Mr. Stark!” he squeaked, stupidly letting the helmet dissolve.

“Pete!” he shouted, abandoning Rhodey to run towards his kid. Meeting him halfway and they fell into a hug that was just as painful as Rhodey’s had been but he ignored it anyway. “Kid,” he said, fighting back tears. “Are you okay?”

“Am I okay?” Peter said, pulling back. Tony got a good look at him and was taken aback at the young adult standing before him. Peter wasn’t much taller, but his hair was shorter, the baby fat on his cheeks was gone and the look in his eyes was for someone far beyond the age of 16. “I’ve missed you so much,” Peter said, the same red wateriness in his eyes he’d last seen coming back.

“Missed me? Kid it’s been 10 minutes, an hour tops. I must have passed out on the…” he trailed off when Peter frowned.

“Mr. Stark, it’s been 2 years."

Until you set your old heart free (ao3) - bluesweatshirt pepper/tony G, 12k

Summary: Five times that someone refers to Peter as part of the Stark family, and one time he does it himself.

We Can Go Home... (ao3) - ObiAni (orphan_account) T, 5k

Summary: Tony survives the snap, but he’s severely injured to say the least. As he recovers, he keeps an eye on Peter, and he does his best to help when the Elementals start to attack.

[gumigo]

~ Hihii, here comes my little heart breaker. It's all fluff in the end, so don't worry ;)

~ Sarah

____________________________________________

Tattooed Heart | word count: 2009

Satoru × Reader

• You and Satoru have been a couple for quiet some time now. You have even been dating since your days at Jujutsu Hjgh, but with your now completely different schedules you two haven't been seeing each other a lot, despite living in the same apartment.

It has been rough on you two, both of you being deprived of each other, stressed in each their own way but no one to lean on. Sadness and frustration grew with each day you twos schedule works passed each other.

It might have been the cause of slight arguments turning into bigger once in the small time frame you do see each other.

____________________________________________

It's close to 12 pm, you got stuck up with a spontaneous mission. You didn't even have time to text Satoru. Which wouldn't just go pass him.

"Y/N?"

His voice was already heated and all that was left to give him was a sigh. You had no energy to even try to fight him today.

You walk into the livingroom, with him just standing there. watching you agitated.

"Hey... I'm sorry I got hold up-"

"That's what you always say. Everytime. While I sit here waiting for you."

Another big sigh left you. God, was it infuriating.

"What do you think I'm doing when you're gone late?"

Your voice may sounded a bit more pissed than intended.

"Oh, atleast I have the courtesy to text you and don't let you worry the whole night!"

His voice got loud and the last few weeks came rushing into your head in seconds. All you did was fight if you even saw each other. Sometimes you guys didn't see each other for days straight. This was a nightmare.

You closed you eyes and ran through your hair, trying to ignore the stinging in your eyes and throat.

"... I brought food... I didn't know if you ate."

You're voice was strained and quiet. Your energy was not enough to fight him tonight. All you wanted was a hug from him. One so sincere. The one you guys used to share everyday.

Instead, you were walking into the kitchen, putting down the take out food and seeing  the mess you two left in the sink.

You laughed. Out of frustration.

"What's funny?"

He was still mad. But you were too.

"The dishes. I asked you two times to do them. Because I knew I wouldn't have time..."

You shook your head in disbelief and still laughing. This was too exhausting. But at this point, was it your lives or just the two of you?

"... I was... I was worried sick because you didn't answer... You can't just not answer for hours!"

In the way he talked, you could sense this was much more than him just being annoyed. It was frustration. Anger. Sadness, if you dare to guess.

When you looked over, it confirmed it all. His face, rather worried and soft than agitated and angry like it was before.

It was a relieve to see his face but it confused you even more about what was happening.

"Satoru, what the hell..."

You pushed yourself up against the sink, letting your head fall down, failing to suppress what you have been suppressing for weeks.

Some tears start falling down your cheeks as you tried to gather yourself.

"...Baby..."

Satorus voice sounded so soft. Softer than it has been in the last few weeks.

"What are we doing?"

Your voice broke entirely, way too worked up to try to calm yourself.

Hesitantly, Satoru came closer. Unsure how to react. Normally he would just hug you, so tight, until it felt better. Or talk to you if you needed that. But... This time around, he wasn't sure. He wasn't sure what to do. So many things happened, it felt like the two of you lost a part of each other. He hoped that wasn't true. The two of you were what he had the most faith in. He couldn't lose that. Not you.

"I... don't know..."

He whispered as a response. Tears were forming in his eyes aswell, as he watched you hurt. Hurt by everything you two have been doing. He never thought you two would be able to hurt each other like this.

"I don't... god, those dishes are disgusting."

Your distracted by the smell of the dishes which made you step away from the sink fast, still sobbing.

"I'm sorry... I should've done the dishes... but you should've-"

"It's not about the damn dishes!"

You screamed. Never did you scream at him like that. Not with so much offense. And his reaction surely told you he never suspected you to react like that.

His eyes are big and a wave of dissapointment was visibly washing over him.

"I miss you..."

Those words tremble over your lips as your sobs grew louder.

That was it. That was all to it there was. You missed him. Those dishes? Done in 30 minutes. Who cares. But you can't remember the last time you talked about anything else than what was bothering. You can't remember the last hug you two shared. It was aweful. All you wanted was him to be the boyfriend again you had a year ago. Watching random movies and not making it past the first 30 minutes without him getting a little too distracted by you. Or crashing on each other after a long day, not caring what happened as long as the other person layed beside you. It all came down to just wanting back the little goodnight and good morning kisses, even if the other person wasn't fully awake yet.

You hugged yourself as you desprately followed every little movement he made.

His eyes dropped soft, his shoulders relaxed and he was finally back to seeing you. The you he thought he lost for a moment. But he didn't. He saw you right there, sad, frustrated and desperate. Everything he was aswell. He doesn't remember the last time they ate dinner together. Nor does he remember the last time there was a smile on her face when he entered the room, which was something he missed so dearly. He missed it all. Even your annoying little karaoke sessions in the morning when he was still asleep. God, did he miss you.

"... I miss you, too."

His whisper was barely audible but enough for you to hear. He came closer once again and just wrapped his arms around you. In such a captivating way, that you thought he would never let you leave. And nothing less you gave back.

His warm embrace relaxed you so easily. You forgot how soothing his touch was. You felt his heart beat slow down and his head sinking into your neck. His breath was warm on your neck.

You leaned your whole body against his, feeling safe and sound right there.

Your arms were caressing his back slighty, which made him calm down so easy. He loved it. Qhen he felt you leaning against him, he smiled. You finally felt safe enough to do this again. He placed a gentle kiss on your neck, realizing how much he missed your soft skin, your scent and your warmth.

You shrug as his lips touch your neck and a giggle left your mouth.

"Ticklish? Hm.. that's new."

He teased as he continued to spread some kisses on your neck. He knew damn well you were sensitive right there.

"You're annoying."

You giggled as you looked up to him, forcing him away from your neck. A smug smile was planted in his lips and his eyes were loving, just how you remembered. You missed those eyes.

He saw your red eyes, flushed cheeks complimented by your adorable smile. It hurt him to see your exhausted eyes but he enjoyed the love behind them. He couldn't fathom how someone could look so adorable and loving.

"Can't we just do this instead of screaming at each other?"

He whispered against your lips softly, nodging your nose in the process.

"I'm down."

You whisper back making his eyes light up.

"I... have a better idea."

He let's go off you and walks around the kitches island. Dumbfounded, you stood there, feeling empty and cold after his warmth disappeared.

A few clicks on his phone later, the kitchen was filled with music. You recognized the song immediately, it being one of the many songs you guys put together on a playlist. Slow and beautiful, romantic, cheesy if you will. A curios smile was written on your face, meeting his favorable grin.

He stepped back to you, holding his right hand out for you to reach. A laugh left you.

"May I?"

His voice, playful and determined. Who are you to say no?

When he got your hand, he pulled you close. One of his hands landing on your waist while the hand holding the hand you gave him held it steady, caressing yours slightly. Your remaining hand laying on his  chest.

"You're cheesy."

You teased, knowing very well that you liked it. He knew that aswell.

"Remember who put the song in the playlist..."

He whispered into your ear as he slowly began moving the two of you to the music. Slow, steady and  gentle.

The movements were soft, intimate and everything you needed that night. You couldn't hold back your giggles when his eyes met yours. It felt like you were fifteen again, even if it was just for a moment.

His heart was full when he saw you blush slightly at his glance. Your laugh was the one thing he missed most. It used to lighten up the whole room but it seemed dimmed lately. But your giggles made his face light back up.

"There's my girl..."

His words made her heart ache. She knew she wasn't her usual self. Just like he wasn't his. Feeling each other like this again felt like a blessing.

"... Those dishes still have to get cleaned, though."

You teased making his eyes roll back.

In the same breath, he made you turn your back to him so he could hug you from behind and lean his head gently on your shoulder, never once leaving the movement to the music behind.

"I'll do them when we're finished here."

Softly, he left a kiss on your cheek. Like a reassurance to not worry.

"We can do them together. Less time, more fun."

He laughed slightly, hugging you tightly.

"I don't think I'll ever be entertained by washing dishes."

His voice sounded rather disgusted at the thought of washing dishes. Granted. They were disgusting.

"I'll gag the whole time. Laugh at that or something."

Playfully annoyed I answered.

"Let's gag together, then."

Both of you chuckled. His head leaned against yours. He didn't want to move on from this. At this point, the dancing conisted out of swaying left and right. But it was peaceful.

"... Can you text me next time your out late? I was really worried."

He asked hesitantly.

"I will. I'm sorry. It was very on the spot."

He sighs in relief.

"It's alright."

You smiled. That's how it should be. No unreasonable arguing. Just understanding.

You turned back around to him, staring up into his blue piercing eyes.

"Let's do this always like this. No screaming. No harsh arguing. I don't want to spend the little time we have screaming at each other."

He smiled. Nodding.

"I don't even know how we let it get that far."

Gently he pushed back one of your hairstrains behind your ear with all the care in the world. It was clear no one wanted to hurt each other here. Just two young adults stumbling on their way into adulthood.

You shook your head, not wanting to think too much about what exactly let it get that far.

"Doesn't matter. It's done and over."

He agreed with a small nod.

"Let's eat the food I brought... Uh! And let's watch movie... we can do the dishes after... Oh, do you have to be up early?... Please say no."

You tried to move away to get the food quickly, atleast wanting to eat with him but he held you right there. Smiling down at you.

"I love you. No matter what happened or happens, I love you."

Startled you tried to look through him. All his eyes gave away were sincerity. It's been a while since those words sounded so sincere. Not muttered under his breath, no. Facing you, saying them loud and cleary.

"I love you, too. A ton, actually. Forgotten dishes are not going to be the reason I will stop loving you."

Both your laughters filled the room with light, for the first time in months.

[itsthestutterforme]

Second Chances (Jang Hanseok)

Summary: Hanseok was spiraling and was starting to get paranoid as Vincenzo's plan began to unravel. Y/N, his best friend, gets hurt because of him and he never forgives himself.

Characters: Vincenzo x nurse!reader (platonic) Hanseo x nurse!reader (platonic), Hanseok x nurse!reader (platonic)

Requested by @letsnotcrytoday

--

Sighing as you rest your head on the steering wheel, your phone chimed. You just finished your 12 hour shift in the hospital as a nurse and you felt tractor trailer ran over you. A scolding hot bath, a vibrating pad and a foot massage from Hanseok sounds like heaven right about now.

Speaking of Hanseok, he's been very distant lately. You've been best friends since junior high and you know each other like the back of your hands. But you haven't seen him so closed off before. It's almost as if he doesn't know who to trust. And it makes you wonder how he became that way.

Without pulling away from the steering wheel, you reach into your bag and take out your phone. You glance over at the phone to see a text from Hanseo saying, "He-." That's odd. Hanseo has been just as distant as Hanseok. Something doesnt feel fight. Was he trying to say "Help?"

You drive to Hanseo's office first but they said that he was out for the day. Then you drove to Hanseo's house and your heart bangs in your chest when you look through the window.

You see Hanseok walking around the house with a gun and Hanseo tied up in front of him. He looks to be bleeding from his head. There are two other people there, a woman and a man.

You don't want to see Jang Hanseok go to jail. He's not a bad man, he just made mistakes that led him down a terrible road. Your heart was shattered to pieces when you visited him in jail and saw him in those awful, beige jail clothes.

You can't see him there again. You grab your first aid kit from your glove box and shove it into your purse.

You slowly walk into the house and open the door, careful not to make any noise. You walk into the living room when you heard three gun shots. "Oh my God, Hanseok, what you-."

Another gun shot rings in your ears and a sharp pain struck your hand. You fall to the floor and cradle your hand against your chest to see a gaping hole in your palm.

Taking deep breaths, you look around the room to see the woman with a gun shot wound in her shoulder and Hanseo with multiple wounds in his chest. If you don't patch those up soon, he won't make it. You finally look up to see Hanseok looking at you with wide eyes. "Y/N, what are you doing here!"

The other man stands up and Hanseok pulls the trigger once again but the gun exerted a soft click. Hanseok looks at you with guilt and anger as the man rush toward him. Hanseok jumps off of the balcony and disappears. A soft whimper left your lips as blood spills from your hand and on to the floor.

You take some cloth from your purse and wrap your hand tightly to prevent any more blood loss. You wince as the pain intensifies and make your way to Hanseo, where the man was kneeling. "Can you help him?" He asks.

"I can try. Did you already call the ambulance?" "Yes," "Okay." You unbutton his shirt to get a better look at his wounds. He has a total of three wounds, luckily there are three people here.

You open the first aid kit and pressed gauze to his wounds, making him wince. "I'm alright," Hanseo says weakly. "No, you're not." You snap, angry at Hanseok for doing this to his brother. "I'm sorry, I j-" His hand comes up to touch your cheek. "You two were more like siblings to me than he was." He says.

"Stop talking and save your strength. Apply pressure to this one." You tell the man. "Miss, I know you're hurt but can you use the other arm to put pressure on his wounds? I'll tend to yours in a minute." You add. "Y/N, please. Let it run it's course." "No, I won't. You're going to live, you hear me?" you say, blinking away the years forming in your eyes.

"I don't want to live in fear anymore. I did good, right? Please tell me I did good." "You're going amazing, Han seo. I'm so proud of you." "P-proud?" More tears escape your eyes as you ease the pressure of his wounds and uncap 5 milligrams of morphine. You inject him with it and he sighs softly. "This should ease the pain enough for him.." you trail off.

"I'm so sorry, Han seo." You add, taking his hand into both of yours. He takes his last breath as you press a kiss to his forehead. Shaky breathes leave your lips and you wrap your arms around him. "I'm sorry for your loss, but can you please help my friend?" The man asks.

Wiping away your tears, you nod and made your way over to the woman.

**

It's 2 A.M. It's been five hours since you came home from the hospital and you didn't get a lick of sleep. What happened at Hanseo's house replays in your mind like some reoccurring nightmare. You wish it was a nightmare. One of your bestfriends was shot a killed by your other best friend.

Sniffling from crying about Hanseo's passing, you blow your nose a few times. That was when you hear a soft clank in your kitchen. Your nose flares with annoyance.

Whoever broke into your home was one unlucky son of bitch. You're feeling everyone emotion besides fear and you have a locked and loaded pistol in your drawer.

Taking the pistol into your hand, you take the safety off and slowly walk down the stairs. You lean your back against the wall next to the kitchen. "Whoever you are, you have five seconds to get the hell out or I'm putting five bullets in you." "Y/N?" You hear Hanseok say.

You step away from the wall and aim your gun at him, not caring about the searing pain of your hand wound opening up again. "Get the hell out," "Y/N, please. I.. I never meant to hurt you. I never meant for any of thi-" "That was your brother, Hanseok! Your blood! And you killed him, because of what!"

"I had no choice! Vincenzo threatened to kill you if I didn't." You were at a loss for words. "Don't. Please don't turn your back on me. The whole world can but the minute that you do, then I'm a lost cause." He says, making your heart lurch in your chest.

You weren't aware that he was stepping closer to you until his hands were taking the gun out of yours. Putting on the safety, he tosses the gun on the couch. His gaze fixes on the gauze wrapped around your right hand. You put your hand behind your back. "It doesn't hurt that bad," you lie.

Still unsure of whether to believe him, you thought that it was best to sleep on it and talk to him about it in the morning. Your brain was physical exhausted from work and recent events.

"You can see yourself out," you add before turning around to go back to your room. He grabs your uninjured hand and pulled you into his chest. "You could have died, and it would have been at my hand. I'll never forgive myself for that." You chose not to say anything and listened to his heart racing in his chest.

"I didn't know it was you. My body reacted before my mind could register... I know you're pissed at me but please don't lose faith in me." He adds. "What were you thinking!" You push him away from you and slap him across the face. It wasn't until you heard a faint rip of your stitches that you realized it was with the injured hand.

A shriek of pain leaves your lips and you fall to floor, cradling your hand. He kneels down next to you and you both watch as blood seeps through the bandage. "Where's your first aid kit?" He asks. "Bathroom." Without a second thought, he lifts your into his hands and carries you into the bathroom.

He sets you on the counter and sets the first aid kit on the toilet lid. Slowly peeling off the gauze, he winces when he sees the wound. Guilt weighs on his eyes and he cleans around the wound on both sides before putting an antifungal cream.

He puts a large piece of gauze on both sides of the hand and uses a new wrap to intricately wrap the hand between each finger and the entire wrist.

He tucks away the loose end of the wrap and we both sigh in unison. "We have to get out of the country," "What the hell did you get yourself into, Hanseok? Why didn't you tell me sooner, I could have helped you." "No, you couldn't." He walks out of the bathroom and you jump off the counter to follow him until you heard him scream.

"Hanseok!" You rush out of the bathroom but a hand clamped around your mouth and felt a sharp prick on the side of your neck. You drop to the ground as black wisps cloud your vision and the last thing you saw was Hanseok being dragged away.

**

Gasping for you breath, you find yourself laying in your bed. What the hell? Was last night a dream? You look at your hand and remember Hanseok wrapping it after pulling your stiches. It wasn't a dream. Someone took Jang Hanseok.

You stand up from the bed and reach for your phone. You thought of Hanseo saying that he our a tracker in his brother's watches. You thought he was crazy but now you couldn't help but to thank him. You look up to the ceiling and say, "I'll make sure you get the justice you deserve, Hanseo."

Following the GPS, you stop in the middle of traffic when you see the man from Hanseo's apartment leaving the warehouse that the GPS led you. "He's the one that forced Hanseok to kill his own brother." You say to yourself. Your blood runs cold in your veins when you see blood splattered on his face and clothes.

Horns honk at you and you park on the side of the road and waited for the man to leave. You rush into the gravel road to park the car. Running as fast your legs can take you, you follow Hanseok's screams to a large room of the abandoned warehouse.

He's connected to some weird torture device that looks automatic. There is a drill that looks to be a half an inch inside his chest cavity. "Oh God," you say. "Y/N," he says weakly and you had sudden flashbacks to Hanseo dying. You couldn't loose another one, you refuse to.

You pull out a knife and pop open the circuit of the device and you cut the red wire which prevents the device from functioning. You're so glad you took that programming class in college.

You stick the sharp end into the crease and pushed the drill out of the device so it would stay in his chest. If you took out the drill now, he would bleed out in seconds.

What kind of monster would do this to another human being? You pull him to his feet and walk him down the stairs to get to the car. "Stay with me okay?" You say when you notice his eyes starting to close his eyes.

He looked terrible. His eyes looked sunken, his skin looked pale and lifeless and his lips were blood stained. When you find this guy, you're going to tear him a new one.

Going 80 on the highway, you were at the hospital in a blink of an eye. "Help! Someone help me please!" You yell as you drag him into the ER.

"Y/N, what happened to him?" Your coworker asked. You wait until he is on the gurney to say, "Someone was torturing him with a drill." You say flatly.

"What kind of sicko does that?" When you don't respond, she adds, "Right, sorry. Not time for jokes. I'll keep you posted." You nod and watch as she accompanies a doctor's taking him to the surgery floor.

Please be okay. Please be okay. Please be okay.

[icharchivist]

There's something really funny and impressive about the fact Belial's been upstaged in terms of being awful for the previous age rating by a human. Then again, I guess this probably had happened already with Lobelia. Personally I think Cygames should just throw caution to the wind and put Lobelia and Ferdinand into the same event just to feed on people's morbid curiosity.

DLKFJDLKFFD RIGHT. My bet is, they accidentally made Belial a little too pathetic so he enters poor little meow meow territory. For the one described as the worst, i feel like they just realized they got away with it and tried to see what they could do worse and escalate from there.

I don’t know how Belial managed to avoid the censors for so long considering EVERYONE knew of him. He’s the most popular fucker for a reason. Or perhaps they thought his crimes were at least isolated enough to not banish the whole game in -18 land? while the more they add in the fucked up gang the more we have to accept that this is our land. (and truly any events after Belial has just been testing just how far they can go in gore and horror, Belial was the floodgate to -18 and here we are now.)

Lobelia is DEFINITELY UP THERE in the fucked up gang, but i think contrary to the other two, he's more stealthy because grinding for the Evokers is a nightmare i'm sure anyone reviewing the Apple Store can decide to ignore. (the only fact the game wasn't raised to -18 when the Lobelia skin, which involves a very explicit and long recording of a woman screaming as she's eaten by a shark, which ends up something you can hear just by accidentally clicking on Lobelia if you have him set on the homescreen, caused such a scandal when it came out. Tho it does show that Lobelia's horrors were a little more gated because it's a miracle this didn't raise the ratings back then.)

Meanwhile Ferdinand was living stealthily in Tikoh's FE for a while, but i think the fact he showed off everything of his horrors AND MORE to any casual readers in Marionette Stars could easily have been the last straw.

(or perhaps it was a combinasion of Naked!Bubs and whatever the fuck lewd thing is going on with the New Narmaya's uncap because GOD. That being said if "big boba with liquid on it that is suggestive" is the reason the rating was raised and not "explicit and long reading through a cannibal act of a man forcing a girl to eat her own father in order to brainwash her into accepting HIM as her father" i am losing faith in rating forever. "Extremely explicit cannibalistic grooming is fine but lewd art is where i draw the line" feels so american it might as well be the reason.)) (tho i dont actually think it's Naru's fault bc the timing of the announcement seems that it's something that cygames must have been aware of before Naru came out. So please to our sanity, let's blame the cannibal for everything.)

Anyway as for your last line: THEY SHOULD. it would be the worst event ever as i would be crying all the way through purely out of disgust, but it has to happen please. I also want Belial there just to go:

And after all, granblue did do an art of Ferdinand and Lobelia (and Nier) together:

If that's not a sign that they're just dying to torture us with an event with those two, i don't know what that is. (or just fanservice of the fucked up gang but shhhh let me dream. Or have nightmares i guess.)

But yeah personally i blame everything on Ferdinand, i don't even care if it's not his fault actually. I think he deserves to be blamed for everything.

[disgruntledspacedad]

in defense of Din’s subdued reaction to losing the kid...

gif by @quantam-widow

I know we were all thinking it. We got a 2 second reaction shot to the destruction of the Razor Crest (may she forever rest in peace), but then, Grogu gets taken, and... nothing?

What the fuck, Din? we all protest. That’s your baby on that ship! Don’t you care? Scream, curse, kick a rock, cry, make a fist, something!!

I will acknowledge that so far, the show has been excellent with giving us emotional payoff, am I right? I mean, just today we got Din laughing, twice. Twice in a row. I honestly never thought we’d see that. There have been so many excellent, precious soft!Din moments this season, and they all feel deliciously earned.

So, from a meta POV, I guess I’m saying that I have faith in the writers to get it right, and in Pedro to deliver. Duh.

In universe, though, I think it’s fair to point out the obvious - that Din is a pretty reserved guy. He’s much more of a thinker than a feeler. He’s used to keeping things bottled up, and I would even argue that his life often depends on his ability to dissociate from his emotions. Din’s entire journey so far has been about how one little baby yodito shakes his worldview to its very foundations. He’s getting there, but it’s a slow process. 

And also, consider this - we haven’t seen Din alone yet, not since Grogu was taken. For a guy who lives a guarded life literally encased in fucking armor, any display of emotion is going to be carefully protected until he’s in private.

But anyway, Din is detached, rational, a little emotionally constipated, and definitely comfortable in a stressful situation. A true ISTP if you ask me (yeah, I know you didn’t, but whatever). Often, it seems that these cool headed, logical types who have never ruffled a feather over anything in their lives are the least adept at handling genuine fear. In other words, when panic does strike, it strikes them hard. 

And guys, Din was definitely panicking during this episode. 

He’s clearly unsettled from the jump - that outburst of “dank farrik!” in the cockpit sells it, and his distress only becomes more obvious from there. Talking out loud, trying to convince himself that the best thing for Grogu is for him to be trained as a Jedi. Reminding himself of the creed. His overt caution as they approach the seeing stone. His impatience, “Are you seeing anything??”

Then there’s the effects of long term stress. Sure, a bounty hunter in the outer rim doesn’t exactly live an easy life, but Din is definitely used to the drama being on his terms. Compare Din’s body language in the opening scene of season one to when Boba confronts him in chapter fourteen. You can just feel the anxiety, the weariness, the frustration. Din has been on the run for months now, constantly looking over his shoulder, sleeping with one eye open. Notice how he even startles at Fennec’s voice? Season one Din would never have given that much away, regardless of the situation. Long term stress has clearly taken a toll on him.

So we have unsettled, stressed out Din in an emotionally charged situation. He’s exhausted, he’s scared, he’s desperate. This scenario is a recipe for even the most level-headed of adrenaline junkies to loose their cool, and that’s exactly what happens to Din. He panics, and he makes some pretty big fuckups because of it. Leaving Grogu unprotected, twice. Trying three different times to break through that “force field,” even when he knew he couldn’t. Dropping that jetpack and then just forgetting about it (I know we were all screaming about that one, or at least, I was).

So, fear is a positive feedback loop. Those neurotransmitters that do us good in a bad situation - raising heart rate, narrowing focus, shunting blood to the muscles - can also be detrimental if we get too high of a dose - tachypnea and tachycardia, inability to think critically and see the big picture, lack of blood and oxygen to the brain. Epinephrine, in particular, even inhibits the laying down of new memory pathways. In other words, stress leads to poor performance, and poor performance leads to more stress, which leads to... you get the idea.

Then, in the middle of all this chaos, they fucking blast the Razor Crest.

More epinephrine, more cortisol, more stress. 

By the end of it all, Din is a fucking shitstorm of stress hormones and pent up emotions. Notice how he seems to be on autopilot in the immediate aftermath, robotically scanning the ashes of the Crest for anything that might be left intact. Notice how empty his voice is when he says, “the child is gone.” This is a dead man walking. Din has nothing left. His whole life has just gone up in smoke, and he can do nothing about it. 

Guys, Din is holding onto his sanity by a fucking thread in this scene. “The child is gone,” he says, like he’s reminding himself, grounding himself in his shitty reality. He’s stunned. 

And helpless. There’s literally nothing he can do for Grogu. He has no ship, no credits, no resources, nothing to bargain with, nothing to offer. Din literally cannot allow himself the luxury of feelings right now. He’s just got to focus on surviving this very shitty day.

Then, Boba Fett upholds his end of the deal, and suddenly, Din has something to hold onto. An ally, a badass friend, some hope. I don’t think Boba shows Din that chain code in order to verify his claim on the armor - he’s already wearing it, for godssake. I think Boba shows him the code in order to catch Din’s attention - hey friend, I know you’re hurting, but I’m a man of my word. When I make a vow, I keep it. Let’s regroup and go find your kid.

And Din would totally latch onto that. A fighting chance? Din fucking leaps at it. There’s a job to do. A kid to save. All of those stress hormones are going to keep on stewing, because Din has never really come down from his adrenaline high. 

It’s like this in real life, too. There isn’t time to be afraid. There isn’t time to be sad, or second-guess, or say, oh how terrible, or wonder what if it doesn’t work? There’s just you and the job, and if you are the only thing standing between life and death, you will put everything else aside and do what you have to do, for as long as you have to do it.

And that’s where Din is at this moment. He’s running on the fumes of his adrenaline, all tempered focus, all strategy and no bullshit.

Emotional shock, my therapist buddy calls it. Apparently, it’s normal. Expected, even.

But guys, the fallout of this kind of crazy ass adrenaline high is insanely intense. I’m talking collapse to the floor, legs won't hold you, trembling, crying so hard you sling snot, shuddering breaths, stare dead-eyed and spent at the ceiling because you’re just too wiped out to even sleep kind of intense. 

And then, after the breakdown comes the angst. The detailed thinking. The oh god, what if this had happened, or, should I have done that instead? It seems like every emotion that gets put on the back burner in the moment comes back to bite you with twofold intensity when all is said and done. 

In other words, Din is definitely going to feels some things .A lot of very intense things. A reckoning is coming, my dudes. Trust me. It’s just not quite here yet.

That being said, here’s what I can expect from Din going forward:

Just like he’s is slow to acknowledge his growing parental feelings for Grogu, I think Din’s going to be slow at processing his grief at Grogu’s loss. In the next episode, he’s got plenty to distract him - getting together his hit team to take back the kid and coordinating an attack on the empire. 

However, I do think we’ll get a slow moment with Din, probably sometime at the beginning of next week’s episode if the pattern holds. I doubt it’s the full-blown breakdown that we’re all needing, but I’m willing to bet money that we’ll see Din grappling with the fact that his kid is gone. I also think that badass beskar murder machine Din from chapter three will resurface. Stress and desperation make us do irrational things, and anger is one of the stages of grief that Din will inevitably have to work through (I think he’s flickering between denial and bargaining for now).

But then, after Din gets Grogu back? I think that’s we’ll have our big, dearly earned emotional payoff. 

For one thing, Din won’t be able to deny his feelings anymore. He wants to keep this kid, it’s so very obvious. Losing him just forces it all to the forefront. 

And then the relief/joy/regret/guilt that Din is going to feel once he’s got Grogu back? Not to mention the physical exhaustion? All of the fear/terror/angst/grief that he ignored in favor of just going pedal to the metal, guns blazing, get the kid or die trying? That shit’s going to crash into him with all the subtly of a fucking tsunami. I guarantee you, we’re going to get some sort of confession, or adoption vow, or face revel, or other sort of profound softness from Dad!Din in the falling action of this season (At least, I hope we get it at the end this season but I wouldn’t put it past them to kick it into the premier of season three, just for pacing reasons, but then again, I obviously have trust issues).

Personally, I would love to see Din grappling with the long-term fallout of losing Grogu - night terrors, guilt, paranoia, etc. That’s probably the stuff of fanfiction - mandalorians don't have nightmares on screen, surely - but still, some lingering effects Grogu’s kidnapping would be realistic, and I would absolutely live for it.

[kuroheishi]

I would be very curious about your take on Yu's reaction to Guren after their fight and Mika's becoming a black demon.

I|| Inhales deeply- ARE YOU SURE YOU WANNA HEAR ME ABOUT THIS because it will probably become a long post again haha.......

First, this is totally my personal opinion of course so don't take my ideas/theories about how I think Yu feels and reacts to stuff y'know as... The right interpretation. I like going deeper into characters analysis than just staying on the surface and I know Kagami has stressed out lots of times how it is through the characters actions that he wants us to understand them so I always try my best to do so with Yu. I hope I can give you a decent explanation of my point of view?

First. Yu pretty much did not have any choice since the freaking beginning of his existence and we all know Kagami's fave man is actually Guren so he's a little bit bias (but I mean who isn't with Guren??) but that's not the point.

Guren.

Relationships are never easy, there is always so much more than just love or hate and I do also believe Yuichiro is meant to be the parallel of Guren in the post apocaliptic arc, perhaps even doing what Guren has failed to do in the past.

Yu is aware of the fact that Guren did not save him because he was being kind but only because he needed him to be alive and that is why we see that conversation between the two of them ages ago: cool you need me Guren? Then until that helps me to also get Mika back and turn him back into a human I'll do whatever you ask me.

Despite knowing this, I do believe Yu honestly and truly feels family love for Guren. He does see Guren as a father figure, the person who was there for him when he was at his lowest. And remember, the trauma with his parents scarred him already for life so imagine losing his world once again? He did lose his will to live, I would not be surprised if perhaps that kid would even refuse to eat after Guren took him back to Tokyo.

Guren was and is still that hope he can cling to, the only faith that allows him to believe that Yu himself can makes it right this time.

Guren was the person who literally kicked him through his most desperate times, he was there to pick him up when he was exhausted, he was there with his presence when he had terrible nightmares and even more, he shared his same pain with Yuichiro.

There is so much kindness and care in Guren that Yu can see behind that stern and careless facade and he does look up to Guren more than anyone else; despite going through so much pain that guy is still doing his best to keep on fighting y'know? Everyone admires Guren for it and Yu is no different. No matter of how much times he fails, Yu is pushed to do his best every single day and that was Guren who forced him to keep on fighting when all he wanted to do is just to end it all.

I have to say that I wished Kagami would have gone more deeply into the situation straight after Yu had lost Mika again but this time by the hand of someone so important to him. However at the same time I believe 100% that everything Guren has told Yu, about wanting to make it right, wanting to resurrect everyone again-

Yu trusts him with his own life.

And he loves Guren so much he desperately tries to rationalise anything that his father figure might do.

He cares for him so much that he knows Guren would never hurt him without a reason.

He cannot even imagine Guren doing anything for his selfish goals or anything that would harm those he loves. That is why we see Yu forgiving him, because if he also lost trust in one of the people he loves the most then what would be left of him? I think Yu knows that not only him and Mika were dragged into that mess and they had no choice, but he had to convince himself that what Guren is doing is for everyone's good.

Also remember that it is true that Yu's traumas has brought him to be selfless and much more greedier than anyone to be accepted and loved, in Guren he sees someone so important to him and that he is willing to do anything for him and if that is also sharing part of that pain Guren has been carrying for the past decade he is willing to do that too. I've always felt like there is just this unspeakable bond between the two of them and suffering gets them to understand each other.

I'm not saying this is a healthy relationship whatsoever but from Yu's prospective this is how it is, how I see it at least.

Anyways, I really hope we'll see more interactions between Yu and Guren because I live for them and I need more bonding scenes for my soul but I hope this was enough of an explanation on why I think Yu is super forgiving and extra caring for Guren!

[moon-u]

Jean kirstein x reader || aot

Title : wings of freedom

Pairing : jean kirstein x reader

Chapter summary : it is during a perilous mission that they realize how precious time is

Notes : I wrote this overnight and was very tired, but I absolutely wanted to finish it and post it ASAP. I was hanging out on YouTube and I came across an edit on jean, it prompted me to write this

__ ☕︎ __

We were in the field, in the middle of a perilous mission.

Soldiers were dying, and the shrill cries echoed incessantly in our ears.

It was such a horrible sight that we had before our eyes. Our comrades, who had promised to offer body and soul to embody hope within its walls, disappeared one after the other.

What was going on? Is this a nightmare?

Why doesn't it stop? Is there even an end to this massacre

My gaze was empty of emotion. I was holding myself

right there, looking at our friends, our acquaintances, the people we had known for almost 5 years, suffering, crying, screaming in agony ... begging ... so that it wasn't their last day. Their last smiles, their last breaths, their last thoughts.

He was praying, what's the point? Was there even someone to have faith in? If so, why are we sending these demons who have decimated hundreds of thousands of lives in front of other human beings while wisely biding their hours within these walls. Serve four hours for these giants devoid of feeling, all that we were. Cattle to be hunted.

My mind suddenly woke up, bringing me back to harsh reality. Even though all of this was unfolding in front of my eyes, there was still hope. We won't lose like that. I wouldn't lose like that by doing nothing

My legs finally began to move, causing me to run at full speed on the high roofs. I had to fight. I have to fight.

My three-dimensional gear carried me through the air, making me feel light, powerful. Eliminating as many titans as possible on the way, about thirty were slaughtered with my blades glistening with hot blood.

We had been ordered to withdraw to a base in order to draft a new strategic plan. Given that fighting without a specific plan brought nothing but victims by the hundreds on the counter.

Once the plan was in place and hesitantly approved by everyone, I turned to return to my strategic position. This plan was really very risky, but the best we had on hand so far. The only hope we hung up on. Most of the best soldiers were either seriously wounded or dead like heroes.

"Do you really think we have a chance of winning against them ?? I'm telling you, we would have a better chance of surviving by retreating"

I automatically stopped my steps when I heard his hopeless words. Is that how everyone saw the situation. To retreat because it was risky?

"face it ... this humanity no longer has any hopes that it clings to, you made it obvious"

The soldiers nodded at his words.

"It's a beautiful speech you have there kirstein" I said without emotion, my eyes fixed on the floor. The people around me moved away from me, creating a space, a bule around me. "I did not know that we had a good talker within our ranks"

"they all agree with my words though"

"Do you want to get killed too? Is that really what you want y / n?"

"yes" I said, looking up at him, looking him in the eye, "I don't mind getting eaten alive if that means dying for a good cause"

"How can you think of yourself as soldiers by giving up like that? By influencing a whole regiment of fighters on top of it. Shits like you ,are hoping to have a good life without lifting a finger to get it, that's all what matters ... Do you think you can hope for a future by thinking this way?

I walked slowly towards him

"You say there is no more hope and we have to make it obvious, but here within these walls, as long as we live, that hope is us. How can we hope for a future without fear if hope itself gives up the fight for unnecessary reasons?

"go ahead" I said "follow him if you really want to. Anyway a soldier who fights for no reason is already dead after the first step on the attack ground. Personally I will fight until the end. go away while i fight for your comfortable and loving life, i am not afraid to sacrifice myself for a better future.

“I looked up, looking at them all one by one.

"after my death, and only after my death. You can come to my grave and tell me that there is no more hope, that I was wrong. That I would have fought for nothing, perished for nothing" I said fixing my gaze on his chocolate eyes

“I'd rather die this way than give up without fighting to the end. I would push my limits like It was taught me so well in these five years

“Watch me die and go. Or… follow me and fight. In the name of your families, of your dead comrades, of your desire for revenge, of your ardent hatred towards these vile creatures. Fight for a reason or give up for no reason. Dying here or there, there won't be much difference anyway.

"Me y / n f / n, I would fight body and soul. As I promised during my first initiation, such as the salvation that I made that day in the name of this humanity"

I left the room without letting any glance at the person who was looking at me now, watching me go, wide-eyed and open mouth in shock at my words.

With my three-dimensional gear, I roamed the streets eliminating as many titans as possible. Blood was on my head from these vile things. There were still no soldiers. So I really used my saliva in the wind, what a waste of time. I eliminated ten of them before landing on a roof to change my blades. One of my blades was stuck in my gear and I was taking too long. Much too long. In the current situation, no soldier could afford to stay more than five minutes in a fixed place, as open as a roof. It was almost suicide.

I had almost managed to sort it out, when a gigantic hand grabbed my waist, sending me up into the air. A twenty meter titans held me in the air, erasing all gravity from my suspended body. My blade had fallen. I couldn't die now. I haven't eliminated enough.

He led me quietly to his large canines full of blood , to devour me. I took a last breath, closing my eyes, thinking the pain would be more bearable this way. I automatically reopened them when I heard a familiar sound. Three-dimensional equipment. Someone was coming towards me. He was followed by a hundred people flying in the air.

He sliced ​​off the titan's finger taking me with him in the air, pressed against his chest. He made us enter a building breaking the window. We were rolling on the ground, with some shard of glass below us. I stood up, looking at my savior. Jean kirschtein.

I looked at him in surprise. My words had finally served.

"don't look at me like that. It's just that you found the right words to talk to the herds of cowards that we were 10 minutes ago" he said ruffling his jacket, sending the few pieces of glass on the ground.

I gave him a slight smile, proud of myself.

So I had succeeded

"Hey, I saved your life, you could at least thank me, you-"

" thank you so much "

"you know I said it just like that" he said scratching his neck

"you will appreciate it later kirstein we have no time to-"

"why kirstein eh?"

"That's your damn last name"

“Well for the record my parents spawned me with a name,” he said sarcastically.

I sighed and walked over to the window, I needed to get my blade. I was ready to let go of my three-dimensional when a hand grabbing my wrist stopped me

He slammed me against the wall, smashing his lips against mine. His hand passed over my cheek, stroking. He pulled me by the waist, pressing my body against mine. He deepens the kiss. He nibbled on my lower lip, and his tongue entered my mouth, dancing a fierce struggle with mine. I was still eyes wide open, shocked, and motionless in the face of his strong grip. After a while my eyes danced firmly enjoying the possible last kiss I would receive from a man before I died in battle

He pulled back a tiny bit, grading his hand on my waist and his hand on my cheek. He was looking me in the eye, with a slightly choppy breath from the hot kiss he had started.

"Kirstein"

He pecked my lips quickly, silencing me.

"Shut up. I absolutely wanted to do it before I died. So on the one hand it's your fault I'm here" he said in a humorless tone "I was a coward earlier, but like Usually, your words opened my eyes ... you always had the right words to give hope "

He was heading for the windows smashed by our shattering entrance.

"So this is your last wish?" I said watching him go

He turned around "Truly .. it's one of my last wishes" he chuckled "if I would have completed the list entirely you wouldn't be standing here fully dressed" he gave me a smirk.

He was about to jump

"Jeans"

"don't get killed"

He didn't turn around, his back facing me. He stood there for a few seconds, before jumping up and activating his gear. Flying it through the air.

More than return to combat now.

In the end, all our efforts paid off. We got rid of these monsters one after another. Once back, soldiers came to thank me for spitting in their faces all these words which had lit them in the darkness into which fear had plunged them.

I had not seen kirschtein again. I was looking for him without really doing it. Glancing around as soon as a boy looked like that horse's head.

I got up then, heading to my dorm before curfew. I was walking peacefully through the halls, when a strong grip on my wrist made me follow the person who had dragged me behind her.

Given the dim light, I couldn't clearly see who was dragging me, but I could clearly recognize who I was looking for by their scent. He ended his way in an empty room, lit by a single, insignificant little candle.

"Kirstein-"

He kissed me again, like this moment, but with a lot more passion. Pushing me against the wall. The room was silent, and only a few noises were heard, those of our lips meeting.

The kiss was coming to an end, he pressed his forehead to mine, panting. We had lasted well over three minutes.

"I didn't know horses kiss so well" I said mockingly

"tch. You just messed up everything f / n"

"I…" He reconnected our lips a second time, silencing me, then looked at me with a smile.

"Tell me" I said walking away, "do you do one last will, or ..."

"y / n f / n" he said with a sigh, "you never noticed did you?"

"You never noticed .. how I was obsessed with you" he confessed looking at the ground.

"It's creepy jean" I said smiling

"You can't help but ruin the mood, eh?" He said chuckling "in truth I myself hadn't realized all this, how much I wanted you. always believed it was pure admiration as a soldier. It's true you were always the best at anything you did. After jealousy followed, when I saw you often hanging out with jeager and his groups of clowns. Then love. earlier, for the first time. I felt a greater fear than dying eaten by these beasts. I saw how determined you were. And seeing you go"

"seeing you leave .. I thought that would be the last time I would see you. That's what made me change my mind. I didn't want to see you die without my being able to time to call you mine "

"I was so scared" I saw a tear about to fall from her beautiful eyes.

"I noticed that time was our most precious thing right now. And even though it's limited. I want to use it up with you."

"I love you" he said with a sigh "and until today this is the biggest evidence I have been confronted with" he said looking at me

I kept silent about his confession. Jean kirschtein. Stood in front of me. Redness visible on his cheeks. Admitting that he loves me.

"I-"

"If you want to reject me, do it quickly. Please. It's embarrassing enough like that and-"

This time, it was I who interrupted her, fixing her lips to mine. I ran my hands behind his neck, pulling him closer, He slid his hands against my waist, hugging me tightly.

He pulled back looking at me with the biggest smile ever

"I guess that means yes," he scolded me to himself, supporting me against his chest. Take me in deep admiration.

[alwaysnforeverfangirl]

Dance Me To The End Of Love - Prologue

A/N: Here it is the Prologue of the Fred Weasley x OC fic. It's a short introduction to the story of my OC, Veronica Reed. Although Fred doesn’t appear in here both characters will meet very soon. Hope you like it, Rach��

(To the people who had already read the other prologue, somethings are change, this is the new one.)

Summary: Veronica Reed has a nightmare before the day her life changes forever.

Warnings: torture, death, mentions of war, mentions of anxiety.

italics are flashbacks/memories/letters/notes

Tags: @hercrimsonpeaches @reeophidian @beforeoursunsets @weasleysandwheezes @cursestothemoon (let me know if you wanna be tagged in the next parts or if you want me to remove you)

Masterlist of the series

There it was again. In her chest, hiding behind her ribs. The pressure that she had grow to fear. She whipped away the sweat on her forehead while releasing a sob that she had hold. The cold air of the night painted goosebumps on her skin when she moved the covers off the bed, her feet touched the carpet that decorated the floor of the room and she started to make her way to the kitchen to drink a glass of water.

Veronica Reed knew very well her condition. That's why she was so afraid of the anxiety that always came after remembering her father's death.

----------------------------------------------------------

-Rabastan…

The voice of Alaric Lestrange was barely a whisper. In front of him a man dressed in black robes was giving him a wicked smile. Behind his long hair Alaric could recognize the features of his younger brother.

-It’s been a long time brother.- Rabastan’s voice was hoarse. He was moving around the place, searching for something while laughing at Alaric.- I didn't have the opportunity to give you my condolences on the loss of your wife.

Alaric’s body tensed up, thinking of the day Anna was brutally killed by Fenrir Greyback. She had fought in the war even though Alaric didn't want her too. They had a daughter and the thought of leaving her orphan haunted him, he had promised himself that she would have the loving family that he never had.

“She will grow healthy and free and she’ll understand what we fought for and why we couldn't hide away while the world we believe in was at risk.” With those words being said by his always courageous wife, Alaric Lestrange joined the Order of the Phoenix with Anna Reed by his side. He knew she was right. He couldn't keep on running from his family and the atrocities that people like them were doing to the Wizard Community.

-She had an amazing magic ability for a mudblood…- The younger of the Lestrange brothers started to approach Alaric in a threatening way.- The child that you two had together… Where is she?

At that moment Alaric realized why Rabastan was there. He was furious about the fall of the Dark Lord and he definitely had heard about the rumors. Not only he was there to torture him like he and their older brother had done while they were kids. He was there to capture his daughter and found out if what people said was true. But Alaric knew that if Lord Voldemort followers were to find Veronica she would become a slave, and that’s the reason why he came back to the United States when Anna died. To protect their daughter and help her understand what she was able to do before anyone could use her.

-You haven't said a word yet dear brother. Has the cat got your tongue? - Rabastan left a creepy laugh.- You know pretty well what I’d do to you if you don’t show me where your daughter is.

-You’d do it even if I do as you say.

Rabastan smiled, he took Alaric’s face with his left hand and pointed his wand to his chest. This wasn't the first time both brothers were in this position, although usually Rodolphus Lestrange was behind Rabastan, with his chest filled with pride as the younger of the family showed the middle one what they called discipline. It had always been this way, ever since the three of them were kids both Rabastan and Rodolphus would haunt Alaric. They would hex him just because he was different, just because he didn't share the same ideas as his family. It got worse when he started Hogwarts and he was sorted into Hufflepuff. “Our family has been in Slytherin since that school was founded and now a miserable Hufflepuff…” Alaric would never forget the voice of his father and the disgust in his mother’s face. Both of his brothers made his life a terrible one until he flew from England, escaping from the pain that the Lestrange name brought him.

A red light came out of Rabastan’s wand and Alaric fell to the floor in pain. He could feel the cruciatus curse invading his body and he failed to silence a scream. In a wardrobe, near the window of the room a small toddler shifted at the sight of her father’s aching. The torture continued for at least five minutes and Alaric stopped trying to keep silent, he didn't want to give his brother the satisfaction of seeing him suffering but the stinging in his bones and skin was too much.

Veronica knew that her father would be upset if she got out from the place he told her to hide when they heard someone entering their home but seeing Alaric crying of pain on the floor awoke something in her. In her chest a pressure started building and her body started to tremble.

-You’re going to die Alaric. Why not have a moment of peace before you go? Tell me where she is and I will kill you fast.

-Never…

-You and your stupid moral code. You really think that these people you defend are worth fighting for? That your filthy mudblood wife deserved a life?- The poison in the voice of Rabastan only increased when he saw how his brother was fighting the curse.- You refused to have a good life, to carry the honor of our family name, all of the glory that runs through our veins for what? A fair cause?

-I’ve never share our family beliefs…- Alaric’s voice was almost inaudible. Every inch of his body was in pain.

-Oh no, I know that very well…You and your choices throw dirt to our name ever since you decided to do the right thing.- Rabastan laughed, he kneeled in front of his brother and spoke to his face with anger.- You. Are. A. Traitor.- He spited in his face and kicked him in the stomach.

Right when Rabastan stood up the doors of the wardrobe opened up.

-Stop! Let him go!

Rabastan turned to look at the origin of the sounds and his eyes landed on a three year old. He sent the most horrifying smirk to Veronica and returned his attention to his brother.

-Found her.- He said to Alaric with a creepy smile.

Alaric looked at his daughter, she had her mother’s fire, her eyes were burning with anger and her breathing was accelerating. He knew what was gonna happen, and even though he was sure he wouldn't be able to see it, he knew for certain that his daughter was going to win that fight. While Veronica gave a regretful smile to her father for disobeying what he had told her earlier Rabastan’s wand emitted a green light and Alaric’s life left his body.

Veronica screamed and the window’s glass shattered. The light of the room became darker and everything started to shake. When Rabastan’s eyes returned to Veronica he could see clearly how the figure of a three year old transformed into something similar to a black cloud. A sudden strength pushed him to the ground and knocked the air from his lungs. Rabastan Lestrange couldn’t breath, his blood was burning and he wasn't able to do anything. He was sure that he would join his brother’s faith in any minute, but it didn’t happen.

----------------------------------------------------------

-Same nightmare again?

Veronica put the glass down and turned to look at John. He had a tiring smile on his face and his hair was a mess due to having fallen asleep on the armchair of the living room. She tried to return the smile to the man who had raised her.

-I’d love for it to be a nightmare but we both know it isn’t.- Her voice was sweet, a perfect contrast with what was going on through her mind at that very moment.- It’s been the fourth time this week and I don’t like it. I feel like I’m losing control…

-It’s normal, given the times we live in. You don't have to worry, we’re gonna see Scamander and Dumbledore tomorrow.- John caressed Veronica’s cheek and she sighed.

-I’m afraid of it. I don’t want to loose control again, not like last time.

-You won’t do it. Try to rest. - He laughed at the bags under her eyes.- We have a long day ahead and I’m pretty sure you don’t want your first impression to be a bad one, and well, with that…- He pointed at her eyes and she whipped aways his hand.

-Fuck off…

Both John and Veronica laughed at her bluntness. She did what he told her and decided to go back to bed.

The right hand of the old auror went back to the pocket of his trousers while the young witch climbed the stairs. He had been rereading the letter that Alaric Lestrange wrote down before he was killed by his brother Rabastan. The ink had decorated the parchment for eighteen years but it was still clear as it was that night.

Dear John:

I write this in what I know is gonna be my last time. The rumors of Veronica’s condition had grown this past month and I’m sure they had reach the ears of the Dark Lord. I’m well aware that you’re not as innocent as everyone seems to be these days. Voldemort has been defeated, yes, but I’m sure he’s still somewhere. And he’ll come for my child.

I never wanted to get involved in any of this. I thought that coming here to America would help me put my past in a box that I would never look at again, that my family’s name wouldn’t haunt me anymore. And it worked for a while but that box had been open with the war and it contains way too much darkness. A darkness that my daughter shouldn’t be a part of. I was hoping too much because that same darkness that I try to kept away from Veronica gained power over me and soon it would imprison her.

I need you to take care of Veronica. Give her the love that both her mother and I won’t be able to give her. Teach her that magic can be used to do good. That she shouldn't be afraid of herself and her power. That the light would always be there by her side no matter what.

I really wish things weren’t like this. I wish that my family wasn’t the monstrosity that it is. That they won’t hunt my daughter down until they destroy her for their own benefit, a benefit that can only mean for the Dark Times to come again. I really wish that won’t happen, that Veronica will grown into a beautiful and strong woman, that she’ll be healthy and free as Anna said but I’m afraid I cannot dare to dream that much.

Go to Dumbledore after you read this, he’d know what happened and what to do.

I cannot thank you enough my dear friend. But I’m sure Veronica’s smile would be a good paycheck.

Your eternal grateful friend,

Alaric Lestrange - Reed

And it sure was. Not that John Fischer needed to be paid for taking care of his old friend’s daughter but it sure was worth all the struggles. And sure one of Alaric’s wishes came true. Veronica was now a beautiful and strong woman with the world at her feet. Sure her health wasn’t the same as any other witch or wizard her age but she was strong, stronger that she’ll ever believe herself to be.

The old MACUSA auror turned off the light of the first floor of the house and walked the stairs and hall until reaching his room. He was going to whisper “nox” as soon as his body touched the bed but his eyes fell on the photo he had on his nightstand. A 10 year old self of Veronica was smiling widely his way and it warmed his heart. He understood now the worry in Alaric’s words as it was the same worry he had.

No one really know how Veronica had survived this long. It could only had been due to the immense power she held, and it was as scary as it was hopeful.

[ayeshintheclouds]

4/5

The End: Jia

Once upon a time there was a very intelligent girl named Jia. She lived atop a mountain with her uncle, the most famed healer in China. 

After all, he needed someone to inherit his craft and carry on the legacy. Someone who hadn't committed the mortal sin of being born female.

Jia lived in a room at the top of the world, closest to the heavens. Sometimes she closed her eyes and imagined taking flight, floating higher and higher off the earth until she was beyond the reach of her uncle or any suiter. But in every fantasy she would sink like stone, falling and falling through the clouds and landing right back in her room. For her heart was too heavy with secrets to ever fly.

Jia had exactly three secrets that she would take to her grave.

One was that she didn't want to marry any of the men Uncle had in mind for her. She would much rather live out the rest of her life with her kitten LiNa, than a man who would only hold her captive like her uncle. Uncle could never know this. He would disown her, or find her a husband who would keep her under strict control.

One was that she didn't want to marry any of the men Uncle had in mind for her. She would much rather live out the rest of her life with her kitten LiNa, than a man who would only hold her captive like her uncle. Uncle could never know this. He would disown her, or find her a husband who would keep her under strict control.

LiNa was the prettiest cat in the world, with beautiful misty blue eyes and grey fur, and she was the only soul who knew Jia's secrets. Jia absolutely could not be handed to another captor.

That would ruin her plan- her second secret. When Uncle finally chose a husband for Jia, she was going to escape. She could not remain living under yet another male who saw her as a servant and forced her to hide her knowledge until she felt she would explode. She wasn't sure how she'd leave. All she knew was that she would take LiNa with her and go far far away, the fog covering her tracks. She couldn't go any higher, so she would go lower; she'd reach the ground and meet new people and travel to new lands and help people with her skill.

Her skill.

Her final secret, the one that tore her to pieces lest she give it more thought.

Her uncle was not a shaman. Or a spiritual healer. Or a witch doctor. He was an absolute idiot, a man who believed in the unknown so much that he largely ignored the known. His remedies of prayers and foods chanted over with sacred spells were utter garbage, to the point Jia sometimes felt sorry for the man's delusions. There used to be a time when Uncle was not as renowned as he was now, when his foolishness had fooled people into believing his remedies worked, only for them to be betrayed. But by then it was too late; they had already traveled back to their homelands to do Uncle any harm.

Jia had grown tired of seeing relief and false hope in the eyes of Uncle's victims. Her heart ached for the mother trying to cure her daughter's plague by reciting chants on her. It ached for the old woman told to sacrifice a camel to the gods to heal her blindness.

So Jia slowly began researching medical knowledge, secretly buying journals and scrolls of medical knowledge every time Uncle sent her to the marketplace. It was fascinating how many people's symptoms actually had practical, herbal remedies.

She began discreetly adding her own treatment into Uncle's, adding chamomile and sage and ginger and tea tree oil. She found unique and powerful treatments everywhere in the mountains- petals of a rare flower, honey of a certain hive. While he wrote absurd spiritual chants on scrolls for them to take home, Jia snuck in her own prescriptions. She felt like the heavens had finally bestowed a purpose onto her, that she could touch the lives of so many people in pain and heal their illnesses.

Her remedies worked. Uncle's name grew rapidly all across the lands, and for years since, people flocked to the mystical shaman on the highest mountain. No one paid much attention to her; she was little but a servant for the actual Healer. Something to be given away in exchange for a man, until her identity and capabilities evaporated into the kitchen steam where she would spend the rest of her life.

One day a young man appeared from the fog at their door, and immediately Jia knew he was the one. He was strong and handsome and Jia knew Uncle would pick him as his future apprentice and her future captor. When the young man selflessly declared that he needed a cure for his mother's illness, Jia's conviction grew. She had to leave now, before Uncle made his decision, or after this she would be watched like a hawk. She began packing her bag with all her journals and herbal cures.

The kitten startled when she lifted her up. "Shh..." she whispered to LiNa, stroking her soft fur to calm her.

Uncle had let the man stay the night so he could start his journey home at the crack of dawn. He was given a bowl of some sort of red oil with ancient incantations on a scroll. Jia wrinkled her nose. Another one of Uncle's ridiculous concoctions. The most effect it could ever have, was possibly give this man's poor old mother diarrhea.

Just as she was about to sneak out of the door, Jia knew she absolutely had to help this man, or her conscience would never forgive her. She crawled to where he was sleeping on the mat, with the bowl next to him. She quickly scribbled under the incantations how many times the mother had to take the small pills she'd created from blended ginger, then snuck the pills into his bag. Now she only had to dissolve some of the ground up roots into the strange oil.

Just as she was pouring it in, LiNa whimpered lightly, tense. The man was stirring; his breathing pattern shifted in the silent room as Jia held her breath and quickly dumped the rest of the root powder into the oil. Her heart pounding, she slowly scooted away.

It was too late. The man's hand shot out from under the covers to catch her fingers, so abruptly that she squeaked.

"Let me go!" She hissed. "Please, I must leave!"

LiNa paced uncomfortably in a circle, her blue eyes glowing in the dark room.

The man only dragged her closer by her wrist. "Trying to poison me, girl?" he asked loudly.

She shook her head urgently. "No, I swear, I was giving your mother an actual cure."

"Don't lie to me! I already got my medicine!" the man was shouting now, and Jia felt tears sting her eyes. Her brain felt foggy and hazy, as if she was watching the scene unfold from a distance. She'd had nightmares of something like this happening for so long, so she wasn't quite sure this was not all a dream. She closed her eyes, but the man's painful grip on her wrist felt anything but phantom.

And then everything came undone all at once, like someone had yanked at a thread holding it all together. Uncle had woken up.

"Your niece tried to poison me! She was sneaking something into the sacred oils you've given me from divine revelation."

Jia nearly scoffed even with tears running down her cheeks. Then her head was being yanked up, Uncle's hand holding a handful of her long hair. LiNa growled, and Jia knew if she wished it, her kitten would attack him.

"Did. You. Touch. His. Medicine." Uncle asked her through gritted teeth, his eyes wild and more unhinged than she'd ever seen them.

"Yes!" she shrieked when he yanked her hair harder until her scalp burned. "Yes, because you're a phony, Uncle! I was doing the work all along, I was the one truly healing people, researching for nights on end for real cures!"

He slapped her.

She slowly turned to meet his eyes, her cheek hot and stinging. She felt her world shattering, her dreams once again dissipating into the air like smoke.

"I shall not have a child of mine disrespect the gods!"

LiNa, ever faithful, was wrestling the bag on the floor away from the young man, who seemed to be trying to untie it. But LiNa was tiny and not stronger than the full grown man, who wrenched it from her teeth and dumped out the contents. Pages and pages and powders and liquids and pills flooded out as Jia's head spun wildly, the pain amplified by Uncle's grip in her hair. It was her life's work, all her research, everything she wanted to spread to the world to fulfill her destiny. Her fate lay on the ground of Uncle's hut, forever gone.

Uncle stared it it, his eyes sparking more dangerously than the fireplace.

"Burn it."

Jia watched as Uncle made the man toss her future into the fireplace, until it was all nothing but ashes, the strange herbal smoke permeating the air of the hut. It suffused into every corner of the room, pushing down her nose and throat and lungs until all she could breathe in were the ashes of her own failure and defeat.

"How long?" He asked her, his gaze burning into hers.

The silence in the room was deafening, until all she heard was her own pulse roaring in her throat.

"Twelve years." She whispered. His hand rose and he closed her eyes, waiting for the sting once again. And then LiNa's teeth were on Uncle's hand and Jia turned, scooped up her kitten, and ran. She heard shouting behind her, reduced to echoes in the distance as she scrambled out.

She didn't have anything to lose anyways; everything was already gone, her past and now her future. Without her research and herbs she would never survive, let alone help others survive. The village would reject her, her reputation would be shattered as soon as word reached them that she had interfered in the Healer's craft. Humanity was as reliable as the fog she trekked through, flimsy and shallow.

Jia ran out of the house, and the aromatic smoke followed her, mingling with the early morning fog while she blindly trudged down the mountainous trails. She could've fallen to her doom any second, but the only thing she could see in the mist were LiNa's gleaming eyes, promising safety, a home, if she just kept going, never turning back.

The mist overtook her, and her senses went hazy. LiNa's warmth in her arms, the only thing left of substance, soon vaporized too. Then it was just Jia, and she couldn't tell if she was even on the mountain anymore or drifting through the thick clouds like a feather, her soul finally empty of secrets like she'd always dreamed of. She felt her body leaving the material world, gradually evaporating into the foggy haze.