#(we all know why. he died as a kid and stopped growing afterwards. however i will never stop asking)

[cyberkn1fe]

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[like-rain-or-confetti]

Family Matters (Two-Face x Reader)

You had called Oswald to ask about your father's whereabouts. You knew he was on a bank heist but which bank, well that was a whole other difficulty and you certainly weren't going to spend the whole night making the rounds to Gotham’s banks. Oswald was surprised by your call thinking something was wrong. He was correct as he could hear you swallow back the tears. However you wouldn't tell him what was wrong. 

When you arrived it was apparent that he was already tipped off by Penguin. You moved past a few henchmen and you heard your father's voice. "(Y/N), you can't be here." Harvey said as he moved down the stairs. "What happened to mum?" You asked quickly. Your mother had died when you were a child, too young to understand death. Yet you overheard some talk and her death didn’t seem so much of an accident as it was deemed. "What?" Harvey halted. "Did you hurt her?" Tears welled up in your eyes. Your hands trembled as you worked up the courage to look your father in the eyes. "Did you kill my mum?" Your voice trembled. "I loved your mother." Harvey said firmly. "Did you kill her!?" You asked louder. 

After a moment of silence, Harvey spoke. "She was going to keep you away from me." You sucked in a breath as you felt a wave of nausea hit you. Tears brimmed your eyes as you tried to contain yourself. "I didn't mean for it to happen. I lost control. It was an accident." Harvey continued. "So you killed her and took me?" Tears slipped down your face. "I protected you! I've always protected you!" "You killed my mu-" He cut you off with a 'Shhhh'. "Being a father means everything to us. Our own was someone from hell. We couldn't bare the thought of not being your father, not being there to see you grow up and we couldn't lose you." "You weren't protecting me from anything...you did this for you." You sobbed. "That is not true!" Harvey said firmly. "One day you'll understand."  “What does that mean?” You looked at him incredulously.  “Now is not the time for this, you need to go home.” He said gruffly. “No, you need to tell me the truth.” You were adamant to get answers out of him -an explanation. Was there even such a explanation that could make any of this excusable? That could validate such an awful thing? You had heard of plenty custody battles- couples breaking up and terrified of losing their children to the other.

 Your father had done many good things and many bad things. He had hurt a lot of people, taken the lives of many. He was dangerous but until now you had always thought you were exempt- that he’d never hurt you. Did your mother think the same thing? Were you making that same mistake? The thought frightened you more by the second and that was when you looked up to see your father walking towards you.  Before he could speak, you cried out. "P-Please, don't hurt me!" You cried out. He looked at you with hurt. "I'm your damn father!" Harvey yelled. "We'd never!" Two-Face yelled not immediately afterwards.

It all happened so fast. At first you were intending to run, but Batman descended from the ceiling, hitting you hard in the face with his fist. You were knocked off of your feet landing on the hard flooring with a loud 'thud!'. You were out cold, unconscious. Silence filled the room for only a second before Two-Face roared with rage storming towards the Batman. "What the hell did you do to our kid!?" Batman looked down at you, inspecting you. Two-Face slowed to a stop whilst he dug a gun out of his pocket. His jaw clenched, fury in his eyes. "I can't let you walk away, Batman. Not after this." Harvey said icily. "Harvey, why are they here?" Batman asked. "They had nothing to do with this!" Two-Face seethed. "You'll pay!" 

Your head hurt a dull ache. At first you didn't know what had happened. Then it came back to you, redefining the whole headache completely. You bolted up. "Hey, easy. You're okay." Cash raised his hands before trying to settle you back down. "You're in the GCPD. You're safe. Lie down, we just need a doctor to check you over." 

Once the doctor was finished checking you over and had determined you were fine, Batman entered the room. "I'm sorry. I was not aware of who you are." His voice was deep and sincere. You slowly nodded. "It's fine, I...I shouldn't have been there anyway." You admitted. "That'll be dealt with later. Commissioner Gordon will assist you from here. Your father is going to Arkham." "Wait, right now? Can...can I see him?" Batman looked at you warily, saying nothing. "Please..." You pleaded softly. "He's my dad, let me say goodbye." After another moment of looking you over, Batman nodded. "I'll take you to him. I'll be taking him to Arkham with the others. He's been worried about you." You hopped off of the table and Batman led you through the GCPD. 

Cash went ahead to have him separated from the other rogues. Although he didn't seem to know why he was separated as when Batman entered, he wasted no time demanding answers. You stepped around Batman. "(Y/N) wished to see you before you go. I have apologised to them and I am sorry to you too, Harvey." Batman said smoothly. "As you should!" Two-Face ground out. There was a moment of silence. "Can we have a second?" You asked Batman almost meekly. "I can't leave you unsupervised with him." Two-Face was seething. "We're their father! You are the one who hurt them!" Suddenly there was a commotion and you vaguely heard a very familiar voice. "Unhand me you primitive morons!" The Riddler seemed to be making quite the fuss and so Batman looked at the two of you one last time before promptly leaving and closing the door- seemingly to help the officers with Nygma. 

"How are you feeling?" Harvey asked clearly concerned. You nodded. "I'm okay." You assured him. "They had a doctor check me over. He said I was fine and then Batman came in and apologised for...you know." "He signed his own death certificate!" Two-Face growled. Meanwhile you and Harvey seemed to be on another level. "If you want to tell the truth about your mother. I won't stop you. I understand." He said gently. "I regret causing you the pain you've endured all this time." You looked at him for a moment before you slowly shook your head. "I won't tell them." You said softly. "I already lost one parent, I don't want to lose another." Two-Face was silent, surprised but your decision. He was torn, the good in him wanted you to tell the truth and report him. Although it was something he couldn't do himself. If he did, he wouldn't be around and you still needed him. "Can I have a hug?" You whispered quietly. He let out a tiny quiet huff of amusement. "Of course, you can." Harvey said quietly before bringing you into his arms. "I'm sorry." He whispered. "We love you, kid."

[insomniac-dot-ink]

Is it wrong to lie to children?

A personal essay on reconciling with a shitty childhood and the question: is it wrong to lie to children?

It’s perplexing to have a shitty “unorthodox” childhood because initially I tried to throw out everything about It. Toss out the plumping and the rafters and the roofing, dispense of every single part of my upbringing I could get my hands on and not look back. Naturally, this approach didn’t work. It wasn’t even a real possibility. You’re still haunted by it, a ghost in the bones of a house, a foundation that remains long after the builders have left. That’s part of recovery too, to look at that ghost, to look at those bones, and keep saying: I see you, I see. I let you in. You sit with it and accept, accept, accept.

The really terrible part of this, the part where I don’t throw away the baby with the bathwater, is that you then have to raise the thing, deal with it. You have to do the hard work of parsing through the endless bits of self and placing them in “keep” piles and “discard” piles. I want to keep my mother’s kindness. I want to keep my father’s sense of humor. I want to discard the isolation. I want to discard the delusions.

But then there are these weird . . . “I don’t know” things. The things I am unsure if they helped me or hurt me. As I’ve gotten older I’ve gotten more and more of those “I don’t know” categories piling up. I’ve worked my way through most of the more obvious ones and now it’s all grey and mushy and as cloudy as a London winter. Recently, more than anything, I’ve been grappling with the fact my mother believed it was wrong to lie to children. She believed, in her flower-child way, that it was unethical in all forms.

I never believed in Santa Claus. I’m sorry to say I was a pretty obnoxious kid too because I would preach on the playground about how there was no Santa and there had never been any Santa. Which was a bit harsh, but in my defense I was under the impression these people were suffering from some sort of collective mass delusion. They were being lied to. And lying was wrong.

Is it wrong to lie to children?

I’ve known about sex since I was around 5 years old. I don���t remember why I asked, but it was something about where babies come from and so on. Most parents talk about a stork or love or some other abstract side-step. My mother described the anatomy to me and showed me a scientific diagram of the process. She told me that a sperm meets an egg and fertilizes it so the baby can grow. I learned most of this in scientific terms and was surprised when none of my middle school friends knew how a penis worked.

Is it wrong to lie to children?

When I was 9 or so our cat was eaten by a coyote. I asked my mom where he went and she said that he accidently got out the night before. She said they looked for him all morning, but it was too late. She didn’t use the word “gone” or “passed on” or “he’s in a better place now.”

She said he was dead. I said oh. She asked if I wanted to see him. I said yes. For the record, I am not actually sure if 9 year-olds should see corpses. That is neither here nor there. It was something that stuck with me though, the body of my cat with his tummy ripped out. I had never seen intestines before. His eyes were open.

But there was something cathartic about digging the grave. About helping pick up his little stiff body by the feet and placing him inside. There was something about piling on the red dirt as the sun set and letting the tears fall.

People on sitcoms hate talking about death. It’s understandable, it’s not funny, it makes for good dramatic irony when the kid asks “Where’s Socks?” and the parents go “Uuuuuh. He ran away.” I’ve never felt more alienated at those points. My cat died. He was eaten. I saw his body, and I buried it. Sometimes I think I wouldn’t want to be told he ran away-- that he had a choice in whether or not he left me.

Is it wrong to lie to children?

For a long time I thought the entirety of my childhood was wrong and bad, because I was miserable and broken at the end of it. I will assure you, my parents fucked up time and time again. But sometimes I have to stop and keep asking: Was this the wrong part? Was this the part where they fucked up? Was any part of this valuable? It’s a hard process to comb through an entire life and decide which bits are worth keeping, and if there are any silver linings.

So here is one: I am an honest person. I am a crooked person too, unsure of where to place my feet in social situations, picking my way through others normalcy. I do not readily share information, I am not forthcoming, and it’s a slow burn for me to open up about anything.

However, I notice time and time again that strangers will share personal things with me. I don’t mean for it to happen, but there’s just this pattern in my life. I once went on a car ride with a girl I barely know from my debate team. She described how she wanted to lose her virginity, she wanted it, but was scared God would be angry. That she’d be dirty afterwards. I told her that that was impossible, sex was just an act, it had no eyes, it had no priestly robes, or bearing on her soul. She cried. She said she hadn’t told me anyone this before.

I had a friend in high school who was struggling with an eating disorder, people had tried to get her to talk about it before, but I was the first person she admitted it to. In the hallway, sitting, just discussing nothing, and out it comes: I’m scared to eat sometimes. I was on a city bus and an old woman struck up a conversation with me. Over an hour or so, and she ended up telling me her fears for her own daughter going away to college. Her fear of growing old and passing on. Her problems with sleeping as she lay awake and dreaded it.

People have told me about their problems with substance abuse, their struggles with sexuality, and childhood trauma. People spill to me and I sit there thinking: Why? Sometimes I think it’s my gender or just how people are, but it always feels like I’m missing some part of the picture. Why do people open up to me, unprompted, all at once? Why me?

Is it wrong to lie to children?

Recently, I was reading a memoir set in 2001 where two young kids ask the narrator, their mother, about 9/11. They asked what happened to the people on television who were jumping off the building. Where did they go? The mother says this: They were caught. There are people-catchers that flew and saved them. Everyone is okay.

This story was meant to be heartfelt and lyrical, relatable. It ended like this: It is the job of mothers to offer gentle lies.

I had to stop reading because I was suddenly lost in a white-hot rage, unexpected, knee-jerk. How could she do that? I found myself frothing. They trusted her with answers and she lied. How could she? I knew it was irrational. It was silly even. This was a sweet story. It was meant to be heart-warming and framed in a way that suggested this is what all mothers do. This was what they needed to do. 

I felt my own mother, pumping through my veins, furious that these elementary school students were being betrayed. I stopped myself of course, I knew it wasn’t reasonable. I wasn’t raised “correctly.” I had no legs to stand on.

But still, is it alright to lie to children?

I am once again faced with that unending dilemma: how to throw-out those parts of myself that don’t work and keep the ones that do. It’s difficult to say, because in some ways I agree with my mom. How can I not? But death is cruel. Sex is weird. Santa Claus is a beautiful lie.

And what’s wrong with lying? I still don’t know. What’s wrong with letting them never hurt? Never knowing the pain or gross parts of the world? What’s the harm in letting them make-believe?

But sometimes I think about all those people who have cried to me. All these unprompted confessions come with an unspoken plea: I hurt. I am afraid. I am so scared. It’s all so heavy, these painful truths.

And some part of me stands there, the part my mother raised and says: there is nothing in this life that is too shameful. There is nothing in this world that is unnatural. There is nothing in this life to lie about, even to children.

Is death too painful? Is sex too gross? Would you tell an adult that a man lives in the North Pole and watches them?

I asked my mom, years later, when I was less furious and able to talk with her again without screaming, about why she believed all this. She had told me about it since I was very young, but I never asked why. She shrugged. She said: children are people, aren’t they?

I still don’t know what to do with this.

Children are people, but they are not adults. They shouldn’t be exposed to “adult” things, right? But is that line so concrete? Is the word “adult” just a mask for the greater word, the one we really mean? We all agree: honesty is good. Lying hurts. But it’s alright to lie to kids, because in many ways they aren’t people yet, they aren’t people yet, they don’t count.

I am admittedly an argumentative person. I was on the debate team, mock trial, United Nations, I studied political science in college and fought with every single one of my professors I thought was wrong. And I stood in that playground, age 6, and told every single one of my classmates Santa wasn’t real and I wouldn’t stop. The truth was important. And my mother, no matter what, thought I disserved it.

I often felt tiny and powerless as a kid. Terrified and holding myself together by shoestrings. I often felt there would be nothing better in the world than to be grown up. Not for the money or the dating or the job, I just wanted to feel like the hurricane would end. That one day I could stand on solid ground again. My friend often says: I wish I could be a kid again, ya know? No responsibilities. Just bliss. I want to be a kid again.

I can’t relate. I never have. I’ve been busy weeding through the pipes and lighting and the carpentry of my upbringing and asking myself: is any of this worth keeping? Is any part of me built correctly? There are no right answers.

But still, I am haunted. I sit and ask myself in circles: is it alright to lie to children?

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[chazukekani]

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Summary for Code:04 is here!

Please notice that this is just a summary so not every single detail is included!

Stormbringer Summary 5

Code 04: Grantors of disgrace, you need not wake me again

Recap: N and Verlaine escaped from the laboratory.

The chapter begins with an excerpt of Rimbaud's diary. He wrote that there was once an anti-government movement 'May Revolution', and the leaders were called 'The Fauns'. They created a secret weapon which was named 'No.12 of Darkness' that can control gravity freely. Once Rimbaud acquired this weapon, he was ordered to educate him and trained this weapon to become a spy, and its name was Paul Verlaine.

-  Unbelievable. The Secret of the Gentle Forest was decoded. Here it lies the most fierce beast, and Verlaine...

Rimbaud wrote in his diary.

-

Verlaine and N were at the top of a tower crane. Verlaine had N here because he wanted to know why N knew the Secret. However, N claimed that the last 6 pages of the Secret was erased by Rimbaud himself so he couldn't tell much. Verlaine couldn't believe that's actually Rimbaud who altered the information.

He was strong, Verlaine referred to Rimbaud. He is the only one who was capable of battling with Verlaine in his organisation, and they were partners. Not only this, Rimbaud also called Verlaine his friend, but Verlaine just felt like he couldn't like Rimbaud.

Verlaine left N on the tower crane alone and left.

-

It was a night with a clear sky, a train was moving on the railway and Mori was sleeping inside. At once, a human showed up on the railway, and stopped the train. The train was derailed as a result of mass shock.  Verlaine went inside the train and searched for something, and he believed no one inside the train was able to survive after the shock.

Verlaine found the body of Mori, and he approached to confirm the breath. But that wasn't Mori. It was a man who wore the outfit of his, but was not Mori himself. Turns out it was Mori's double, Hirotsu. A tiny person also appeared afterwards, and that's Dazai.

Suddenly, there was light in the dark, and that was flame. By the mountain near the railway, there were 50 and more sniper bullets aimed and shotted Verlaine, and the target was in utter pain.

'Don't think these little rocks could kill me...' Verlaine was trying to use the woods beside him to attack the snipers who were hiding in the mountain, but he stopped

'Hoho- You really look like my subordinate when I take a closer look' said an elegant lady, Kouyou. She summoned Golden Demon and launched offense towards Verlaine.

'You can't beat me alone,' Verlaine said.

'Who said I am alone?' Verlaine then felt his whole body sinking down to the ground, and turned into multiple snakes that were about to swallow him. That was the Lieutenant's ability (reference to Dead Apple manga, former Port Mafia executive), that could manipulate the state of objects.

'Ability organisations are stronger than ability users,' Dazai observed and smiled. Various ability users from the Port Mafia were launching all kinds of attacks towards him, such as the ability of slowing the time and freezing. In fact, Dazai sent 420 Mafia members which included 28 ability users to the scene to defeat Verlaine.

'I will mourn you,' Dazai said to Verlaine, and took out Rimbaud's diary from his pocket.

The next moment, a black wave inflated and spreaded to the whole field.

'-- You hatreds, your dumb torpors, your weaknessses,

And your brutalisation suffered long ago,

You give back, O Night, like an excess,

Un-malevolent, of blood, each month or so, (extract from The Sisters of Charity, by Arthur Rimbaud)' Verlaine said the spell.

The wind calmed, the buzz on the ground vanished as if escaping from something. The invisible waves were flooded in the atmosphere.

'The door was opened,' Dazai observed. A black object appeared far far away in the forest. Right after, where Verlaine were, ejected a form of dark energy. The car that was hit by this energy was completely deformed with half of it vanished and the remains were just like a wrapped paper.

On the mountain, there was a monster who controlled a dark sphere. When people touched the sphere, they died.

No.3 Forces, annihilated; No.5 forces, all dead, No.8 forces, no response, as reported from Dazai's walkie talkie. The mountained was eliminated, and the ground was distorted. All the mafia members were screaming and suffering.

'It's all in the plan, we will win if the next attack succeeds,' said Dazai.

-

Up in the sky of Yokohama, Chuuya and Adam were inside a helicopter and they jumped off from it due to the attack from the monster. Adam was able to fly in the sky because his body allowed him to transform himself into a flying machine.

Similar to Chuuya, Verlaine was also intolerant to poison despite having ample physical strength, so actually it was their plan to approach Verlaine closely, so that they can inject poison into Verlaine's body. It was notable that Adam mixed this poison pill.

It was very difficult to get closer to Verlaine because he had activated his corruption, which he lost his consciousness and attacked the surroundings without rationality.

Nonetheless, Chuuya did put a toxic pill into Verlaine's mouth, which he has his conscious back. Yet Verlaine splitted out the pills right after.

'You always surprise me, Chuuya,' Verlaine spoke. He told Chuuya that once he said the spell, he would have his human personality unlocked and become a mad beast that generated ability singularity. However, that is Rimbaud who thought about adding a spell on Verlaine, which enabled him to get back to a rational form after using his corruption.

'He always thinks about what he could do for me,' said Verlaine.

'But you betrayed him,' Chuuya replied

'Because I wanted to save you,' Verlaine answered.

Suddenly, a finger touched Verlaine's face.

'What an unexpected offense. I bet no one could foresee this. What a joke,' said Chuuya

Verlaine turned back, and realised that was Adam's finger.

'Do you wanna hear an android joke?' Adam's finger was installed with a tiny syringe, and this enabled poison to be injected into Verlaine's body.

'Seems like a child's trick can defeat the king of assassins. Thanks for listening to my android joke.'

-

It returns to another section of Rimbaud's diary. Rimbaud was thinking about what presents he should give to Verlaine on his birthday. He came up to a conclusion: a black hat. That was not an ordinary hat. The materials used inside the hat consists of 10% platinum, 10% titanium and the rest were made with rainbow-coloured ability metal which was installed with the ability of the Fauns inside. By wearing this hat, it enabled Verlaine to act on his own will and less interfered by external instructions and interruption. In other words, Verlaine was a step closer to a man with free will by having this hat.

Rimbaud gave the hat to Verlaine on his birthday, and he did not look surprised or happy either way.

'Just take it,' Rimbaud told Verlaine, and there was no response. They drank some wine that night and said goodnight to each other.

-

The battle was so called ended, but the field was left with gravity waves and the forest was completely destroyed. Verlained passed out, but still alive. Dazai told Adam and Chuuya that N was rescued from the tower crane, but disappeared during transportation.

-

'I can't die here...' said N. The car that he was taking bumped into a utility pole because he injected some form of medicine to the driver. He took out an old style flare gun and shooted.

'Is this some mistake made by the offense team?' Chuuya noticed the shot far away.

'Shit...' Dazai's eyes were in despair.

The shot that shooted from N's flare gun was exploded with colourful metal pieces floating in the air like snow, and even accompanied with some music. Verlaine suddenly yelled painfully. His eyes were filled with blood and the blood stream was clear on his face and grabbed his chest hardly.

'That was not the effect of my pill!' Adam shouted, 'The gravitational field was unusual here!'

The space was deformed, and Verlaine was flooded inside his own gravity wave.

'The world ends here...' Verlained whispered just like an old man who's dying 'Run, Chuuya.' Verlaine smiled sorrowfully.

The sky was divided, the thunder was coming and the atmosphere was expanding. N saw the ability form of Verlaine. It was a black beast, the opposite of god, and original demon -- Guivre the Beast. The monster annihilated all the aircrafts incoming and was about to proceed to the city center.

'See that Verlaine! That's your end!' N laughed, almost screamed. 'An unique being like you will die because of such a boring creature like me! HAHAHAHA DIE VERLAINE!'

-

Here comes a flashback during the night of Rimbaud and Verlaine's mission of stealing Arahabaki.

'Don't give this kid to the French,' Verlaine was holding the young Chuuya on his arm.

'What?' Rimbaud was confused.

'Don't hand him over to anyone, and don't let him go back to the lab. Grow this kid in a farm and just never let him know about his truth.'

'What are you talking about?' Rimbaud asked once again.

'Think about it Rimbaud,' Verlaine's voice was tense and hostile at the same time, 'If someone tells you you're not a human, how impactful it will be. You are not born with god's blessing but just a programme, how hurtful it is. You cannot see the moon and live in darkness forever without any hope, and no one will come save you. Even such a feeling of despair is designed by someone else!'

'We have this conversation countless times, Paul,' Rimbaud stepped forward, 'You are a human, everyone sees that. Instead of thinking how you were made, isn't it better to think what you should be as a being?'

'Paul...' 'Don't get close.'

'I am sorry. Anyways, should we go back and have a chat?' Rimbaud stepped forward again.

'No, it's too late.'

A huge fight between the spies broke out.

-

Adam had an idea to stop the destruction of Guivre. Almost at the end of the Great War, Britain had developed something that was currently the energy source of Adam's machines. However, the initial usage of Adam's energy source was a mass destruction weapon. Adam smiled and continued. If they used Adam's weapon inside him, they could burn and melt the Guivre.

So they put this in practise. Adam asked Chuuya to tie Adam's own arm to an electric cable. However, Adam pushed Chuuya away when he was about to trigger the weapon. He explained to Chuuya that the weapon inside him was called the Shell (55 minutes reference). It can burn down the surroundings of 22 yard radius, and the internal temperature could reach 6000 degree celsius, and that is almost the temperature of the sun surface. This was sufficient to destroy the Guivre.

'Don't do this!' Chuuya cried

'Don't you have your dream! To build an investigation organisation purely ran by machines right!'

Adam silenced for two seconds.

'My dream is to protect humans,' Adam replied, 'and my dream comes true now.'

'Wait!'

A gigantic fireball. It burned the woods, and boiled the land, and altogether evaporated. The Guivre moaned miserably and decomposed in the air. Adam sacrificed himself and the monster was destroyed.

However, the tail of the beast in front of Chuuya and Dazai was forming into something. That piece of tail suddenly grew a face out of it, something like a reptile. It then turned into a huge form of creature. Its head was pretty much the head of the former Guivre, but the number of eyes were different, and it had red eyes.

'Don't look at it, Chuuya,' Dazai warned, 'He was sensitive to emotion, so don't let him see you.'

'I know how to defeat this ability singularity,' said Chuuya, 'I recalled from my memory.'

'Let's brief me that,' Dazai smiled.

-

They figured out how to open Chuuya's door. In order to activate Chuuya's corruption, he needs to say the spell 'Grantors of disgrace, you need not wake me again'. Together with the hat gifted by Rimbaud, Chuuya could control the door with his own consciousness. However, there's a problem. Once Chuuya said the spell, the log inside his programme will altogether be erased, which means Chuuya could no longer find out whether he was human or not via the programme.

Chuuya was flying in the sky. He grabbed his hat tightly and recalled his friend's word

-- I am satisfied that I can protect you.

And he said 'Grantors of disgrace, you need not wake me again.'

The battle between the gigantic beast and a tiny Arakami (God of Arahabaki) began. Dazai was directing the forces to launch offense towards the beast. Meanwhile Chuuya's physical body could no longer tolerate the power inside his body. He was bleeding severely. Finally, Chuuya created an enormous fireball that was as if the second sun in the night. Finally, the beast disappeared and Dazai nullified corruption.

Code:04 End

[wonlouvre]

pairing: doctor!wonwoo x lawyer!female oc genre: modern royalty, arranged marriage, fluff and future angst word count: 2.8k WARNINGS: hospital, injury, child trafficking, child abuse, hostage taking, guns, police, violence

author’s note: we have reached part 4!!! i think our couple’s relationship development is quite slow. please bear with me/them, they’re getting there!!! :’((( also, i am still very much thankful and overjoyed for the kind feedback that you guys gave for the previous chapter. i hope you guys are looking forward for this one. enjoy!!! :)))

four: let’s get you home, princess | masterlist

Wonwoo is not addressed as Your Highness inside the hospital premises. It’s actually rare for him to hear Your Highness ever since the royal decrees have been relaxed. His close friends, family and even colleagues have been calling him by his name or profession for the longest time. However, the King and Queen still must be addressed with utmost respect, regardless of who the person may be to the Royal Family. 

Things just got different when he started living and working at your kingdom. He had said that it’s okay for him to be called Wonwoo most especially by senior doctors who have been practicing even before he was born. But it was still awkward so they stuck with Dr. Jeon. These days, some young residents and interns still stutter and it just makes Wonwoo laugh. 

From time to time, Wonwoo is withdrawn from the hospital because of his duties as the Prince. Duties such as to make an appearance, attend a meeting or speak at an event. Said duties usually eat up most of his days in a week. Days where he could and should have been at the hospital, doing what he pledged to do until he dies. 

Wonwoo is loyal to the crown, but he is also committed to the people he promised to serve. 

The wedding planning has started and he’s relieved that you and him both have reached an agreement to hire a full-time planner that will arrange whatever the desires of your hearts may be. He’s grateful that just like him, you are happily married to your job. It’s a lame joke, but Wonwoo can never be bothered to care. So far as the wedding planning goes, you have been looking at venues such as hotels, private gardens or beach resorts. Initially, his parents offered to hold the wedding at their kingdom but you humbly requested to have it at your homeland instead. 

It was no issue to the King and Queen, definitely understanding where you were coming from.

Wonwoo admires that side of you. You seem to always know what you want and when you do, you speak up at the right time with elegance and confidence. He believes it’s the lawyer and princess in you altogether. 

The thought of you puts a smile on his face. He hopes you wake up soon so he can see you.

“Wonwoo?” 

His thoughts popped like a bubble when his name was suddenly called. He clears his throat and faces the owner of the voice. It was Soonyoung and by the looks of his grin, Wonwoo’s sure he witnessed him daydreaming. 

Wonwoo rolls his eyes and goes back to the charts he’s been reading. “What do you want?”

“That’s not how you return the favor of your friend who brought you a fresh batch of clothing,” his friend chides, bumping his shoulder against his tall friend. “You seemed to have had a great night, our Prince.”

It’s trivial, really. But Wonwoo’s cheeks blushed at the reminder. He will never tell anyone but staying with you yesterday until the early hours of today made him feel something he doesn’t know. It’s absurd how he can’t pinpoint what that something is, but he won’t deny that there is. 

“Shut up,” he grumbles like a child, ignoring the cheeky giggle Soonyoung emits. 

Speaking of Soonyoung, he was born in your kingdom and moved to the neighboring one when he was only a baby. Both his parents are doctors also who have the heart and passion to offer their services voluntarily. They were only set for a medical mission before going back in a month, but the King and Queen (Wonwoo’s parents) recognized and applauded their kindness, offering them a place to stay and permanent positions at their Royal Hospital. 

Being of the same age, Wonwoo and Soonyoung grew up together and became best of friends. 

It’s no question that he’s attached to the Prince wherever he goes. 

“Dr. Jeon,” another voice calls for him and this time, it sounded desperate. 

Wonwoo looks up and finds a young resident, looking disheveled and stressed. “What is it?”

“I have a young boy, 10-11-years-old, crying in pain while clutching his left arm,” she explains the basics before continuing, “He was brought by someone who seemed like his brother not older than 14-years-old. They weren’t accompanied by anyone.”

“Ask for their names and address,” Soonyoung suggests while standing straight and crossing his arms. “I’m sure we can find some contact details from the statistics office.”

The young intern shakes her head. “They’re not talking. All the older boy is saying, begging rather, is for us to help them.”

“X-ray?” Wonwoo asks and pumps some sanitizer on his hands. 

“The result is on the way.”

Wonwoo nods and starts walking to where the boys are. “Let’s see what we got then.”

The emergency department is always hectic and anyone that says otherwise is unbelievable. Regardless of what the case may be, Wonwoo stands that if they are brought here, it is an emergency. Usually, they range from new parents bringing their newborn baby who can’t stop crying in the middle of the night or some bringing their seven-year-old for a cast because they fell off the bike while playing with their friends. They all seem to be treatable and can be discharged in an hour or so. But sometimes, you can never be too sure. 

Wonwoo knows because he has witnessed it already. That one baby that’s been crying was actually fighting a fever and that one kid who fell from the bike? It was having trouble with his balance and movement. 

It’s not the first time that young children came to the hospital by themselves. They’re soon followed by their parents or guardian afterwards most of the time. Wonwoo supposes the kids this time around are in shock that they can’t form any clear thoughts at the moment. 

But Wonwoo doesn’t think that’s the case at all once the curtains were pulled open. 

“Oh my,” Soonyoung blurts out, surprised. 

Wonwoo expected two boys looking dirty and blushing from playing under the sun all throughout the day. He expected them to be silently crying for their mom or dad. He expected them to be at least healthy and on their way for a speedy recovery once they got treatment. But no, Wonwoo was wrong.

The boys looked awfully hungry and dehydrated. Their clothes were smaller than what their body looks like and the older brother is missing one pair of his shoes. He noticed bruises on some parts of their body. There’s even a nasty cut on the older boy’s bottom lip. 

Something’s wrong and Wonwoo is not a fool to not notice it. 

Wonwoo releases the breath he’s been holding and smiles genuinely. “Hello, I’m Wonwoo.”

Silence. 

He looked at Soonyoung before proceeding to meet the boy’s height who’s sitting on the chair beside his brother’s bed. “I’m going to take a look at your brother now, if you don’t mind.” 

The older one finally looks at him, his eyes dead serious. “That’s what they have been saying ever since we got here. Why can’t you just treat him already?”

“Hey, it’s okay,” Wonwoo tries to calm him down, noticing his tear-stained face and shaking voice. “Your brother will probably need a cast. We’re just waiting for the x-ray results to come out to know for sure. I just need to ask some questions, alright?”

The boy’s bloodied lip trembles as he nods his head. 

“I’ll go get the result,” Soonyoung says and leaves without forgetting to close the curtains.

“What’s your name?” 

“They call me Jung,” the boy answers, weak and unsure. He then points at his sleeping brother, “He’s called Sam.”

Wonwoo’s brows furrow in both confusion and doubt. Why wouldn’t they have official names? Looking at the brothers’ state all over again, it didn’t take Wonwoo long to comprehend what’s really going on. He turns his head to the resident and locks eyes with her, who’s already grasping the situation at hand. He then gives her a nod, signalling her to immediately call children’s services.

Once she leaves, Soonyoung arrives with an envelope. 

“It’s a fracture, but won’t need surgery,” He says happily and Jung sighs in relief. 

“But, you’re staying here for a while,” Wonwoo takes hold of the envelope from his friend. “We just need to run some more tests.”

Soonyoung looks at his friend with wide eyes asking, what are you talking about? But Wonwoo ignores him and keeps his smile in the hopes that the boy doesn’t grow any more agitated.

“Your brother is okay,” he assures Jung and squeezes his shoulder. “We’ll put the cast on his arm and clean the cut on your lip shortly. Stay here, okay?”

He pushes his friend out after the boy gives them a nod. Soonyoung was still glaring at him at the nonsense he spewed out earlier. Wonwoo puts a finger on his lip, gesturing for him to not say a thing yet until they move to somewhere more quiet. 

“What is going on?” Soonyoung whispered-shouts when they reached what seemed to be the fire exit. “What tests are we still running?”

“It’s a lie,” Wonwoo answers and smooths the lines on his forehead, thinking and thinking on what he should do. “We need to keep them here. I think… they’re victims of abuse and trafficking.”

Soonyoung’s jaw drops while his legs grow weak, making him stumble. This is nothing new to them. But even so, it still makes him sick to the stomach. He just nodded as he didn’t need to say anything else.

“I already asked for children’s services and they could arrive here anytime soon,” Wonwoo continues. “They looked like they escaped. I won’t be surprised if someone suddenly barges here, claiming they’re the parent or guardian.”

“What do we do when that happens?”

“We keep them safe,” he answers firmly. “No matter what.”

Every staff at the Emergency Room was alerted about the situation of the boys. Authorities were also called and they’ll be arriving soon. Wonwoo gave strict orders to not disclose any information about them to anyone who claims they are the parent or guardian. Any affiliation they assume is not acceptable unless they can prove it. 

The boys were transferred to a ward once Sam’s treatment was done. Wonwoo brought them some food, water and spare gowns to rid them of the excuse of clothes they’ve been wearing for who knows how long. It’s unbearable to imagine what they have gone through but seeing them get comfortable is enough to bring some peace to Wonwoo’s mind. 

He requested Soonyoung to stay with them or at least check on them from time to time and make sure no one goes inside their room other than the designated staff. He just needs the representative of the children’s services to arrive and they’ll start knowing what the next steps to take from there. 

Now that’s settled, Wonwoo can now go back to his routine and job.

Or not. 

“You’re Highness.”

His security detail stands before him, complete and blocking his way to the elevator that could bring him back to the Emergency Room. Wonwoo can notice the tense and nervous expressions on their faces like children about to admit the trouble they just caused. He had requested before that they be posted on the sides to not hinder him from working. They’re only to jump into action when it’s life threatening and by the looks of it they’re here in his face just to do that but he still asks.

“What are you doing here?”

The head of the group bows his head. “The Emergency Room is being held hostage by armed men. We need to leave as soon as possible.”

Wonwoo’s heart almost felt like it stopped beating. “No.” 

He needs to move. He needs to go back there. He can’t just leave.

Wonwoo forces his body against the men standing firm on their positions, only to be held back. His head of security nods at his men to not let him go and carry him if they have to. 

“No, no, no!”

Wonwoo thrashes from their hold as he screamed for them to let him go. He can hear his security speaking to his mic to prepare the vehicle that would transfer him to safety but in that second all men drop to the ground and shield him when an ear-splitting clap suddenly reverberates through the walls.

A gunshot was fired.

Meanwhile, you were brought to the top floor of the hospital at one of the private rooms reserved for the members of the Royal Family when you insisted on staying. Jeongyeon and the rest of your security detail were more than distressed at your stubbornness, fearing for the earful they’re going to get once this is all over. But they would rather have that than leave you and neglect their duty.

“Your Highness, we really have to go,” Jeongyeon reiterates, still trying to convince you while shaking your shoulders. 

You shake your head and avoid her eyes. “No, we can’t just leave the people here. We can’t leave…” you pause then whisper softly, “Wonwoo.”

Jeongyeon nods. “I know, I know. But the Royal Police are on their way and the Prince’s security detail is already with him. The two of you cannot stay here any longer. It’s an order from His Majesty.”

You swallow the lump on your throat. You can’t think. You can’t process whatever the hell is ensuing downstairs. The lives of innocent people, your innocent people, are at stake. 

You just can’t leave. You have to do something. 

“We’re not leaving this hospital until those armed men are immobilized.”

Jeongyeon wishes to plead further but all you hear was ringing when the sound of what you’ve been fearing the most resonated inside the room. 

Security scrambles and moves at a speed of light to protect you with their bodies. They were screaming among themselves but you fail to register what they’re saying. You fail to hear nor see your surroundings.

Everything became a blur.

Everything became nothing as your heart beated a thousand times faster than normal and the only person running through your mind is no one else but the Prince who was beside you just last night but is now in imminent danger.

Please, Wonwoo. Please.

“Their Majesties condemns the hostage taking that occurred at the Royal Hospital,” Prime Minister Lee starts, looking straight at the camera. “Their Majesties assures and promises the public that they will be held accountable for the crime they have committed but most importantly for the distress and trauma they have caused the patients. They commend the prompt action that the Hospital’s Security and Royal Police have taken resulting in no casualties.”

“Prime Minister Lee!” A reporter raises their hand. “Can you confirm that His and Her Highness Jeon Wonwoo and Y/N were at the hospital when the hostage took place?”

“Yes,” he answers, “Her Highness, Princess Y/N, was admitted to the hospital yesterday after fainting at her office…”

You switch the TV off with the remote before throwing it on the couch. You walk to the window with crossed arms and watch the Royal Police vehicles leave one by one after clearing the Emergency Room and declaring it safe. It’s now back to its normal operations. 

Apparently, the gunshot was fired by the police, wounding one of the hostage takers. They took advantage of that distraction to finally hold them down and arrest them right away. There’s no official statement from the Royal Police yet as they are still investigating further. You make a commitment to get to the bottom of this.

They’re gone now.

But Wonwoo is still unheard of. 

He’s safe, they told you. But that didn’t stop you from biting your nails, walking back and forth and pulling your hairs from the roots. You need to see him. 

“Your Highness,” Jeongyeon calls for you and your head snaps up. She gives you a small smile before opening the door she’s holding wider.

Wonwoo enters with a tired smile and you almost burst into tears. You ran to him as fast as you could, but your legs were weakened by worry, you almost fell. It’s a good thing Wonwoo meets you halfway and catches you in his arms. 

You take every tangible thing about him. You take and you take as you hold his waist tightly and bury your face to his chest. “You can’t do that to me.”

Wonwoo sighs in content upon breathing in your scent and hearing your voice. He wraps his one arm around your waist while the other holds your head gently. He stays silent and just holds you for as long as he desires. After the horror that transpired earlier, holding you like this is what he desperately needed. 

“Let’s get you home, Princess.”

[firelxdykatara]

You’re doing a LoK rewrite, correct? Would be really interested in hearing how you plan on fixing Suyin’s character and the Lin-Suyin conflict because……. oh boy. Man there’s a lot to unpack there. This is what happens when we don’t let Toph just raise her fucking kids for the sake of pushing a stupid as hell narrative about working women and single motherhood.

I am indeed!

In... you know, the way I'm doing most of my big potential projects, in that I have a folder with some documents that have plot notes and... some day I may actually get full, finished fics out of them (h2o AU is in there, as is my voltron!atla fusion AU, and uhhhh my book 3 atla rewrite, and a few other things), so... but I will say that the docs I have for my LoK rewrite so far amount to roughly 4.2k words of just Plot and Character Notes, which may some day turn into words of Story, hopefully.

ANYWAY, POINT IS: yes, this exists, and I have Many Many Thoughts.

Including how the Gaang kids would shake out! Cause I know I'm doing Zutara, and maybe Tokka???? Although I don't wanna just leave Suki out either... maybe a throuple??? Or Sukka having an amicable breakup before Sokka and Toph get together--maybe she already has Lin by then, and Sokka helps support her through the grief of losing Kanto???? Idk honestly, I haven't actually figured any of that out definitively yet except that Aang was perfectly happy to settle down with an Air Acolyte from one of the rebuilt temples because he grew up and out of his crush on Katara pretty easily once he hit puberty and matured a bit.

UHHH none of which is actually an answer to your question, because it's a valid one! Which is why I've been sitting on this a while (10 days I'm so sorry) bc I haven't made any solid decisions but I've been letting it percolate around my head a bit. And the more I think about it, the more I really like the Sukka -> Tokka idea (and I don't want to kill off Suki since the kids all deserve their awesome Kyoshi warrior auntie in their lives, and also I want a Sukka kid to be besties with Iara [zuko and katara's youngest] so maybe she gets with someone else after she and Sokka split? I could be talked into Ty Lee/Suki actually, the more I think about it....), but obviously having a stable father figure and a Toph who is... not what LoK made her out to be will dramatically change the Beifong family dynamic.

That said, I think I actually have a solution. (I'm so sorry for what I'm about to do.) Toph has Lin with Kanto--and he passes away when Lin is two or three, which is why she has very few memories of her father. (Although none of this 'she doesn't even know his name until she's 50+ cause Toph didn't tell her daughters about their fathers' bullshit.) Sokka is there for her through it all (all of the gaang is, of course, but you know that it sometimes just hits different when it's someone you're also starting to fall in love with, especially when there are older and much more deeply buried feelings there that are now resurfacing, because at least in my version Toph was deeply in love with Sokka when they were teenagers, but he was in love with Suki and she also loved Suki so she didn't want to mess up anything about their family or the group dynamics by making her feelings anyone else's problem), they fall in love, get married and have Suyin.

(Sokka may jokingly refer to it as a shotgun wedding, but the truth is he wanted to propose well before he found out she was pregnant, his attempts just kept getting messed up in increasingly comedic fashion.)

Throughout all of this, Republic City has been established, Sokka is Chancellor, Toph is something of a defacto police chief--mostly because, at the time, no one else was willing to volunteer, and she jokingly offered to whip the law enforcement, but unfortunately everyone else at the meeting took her seriously. However, she is also the founder of the probending league, and basically her feelings about law enforcement are complicated and she actively discouraged her kids from joining the force which is part of why Lin did. How else do you have a teen rebel phase with a parent like Toph? (Which, in this instance, means tough and firm but fair, with a 'you break it, it's up to you to fix it' attitude and very little desire to actually control her daughters and their behavior.)

Ah, but here's the rub.

Suyin is ten years old when Sokka dies, and Lin is sixteen. I'm not sure how he's killed--maybe by Yakone, to tie it into my plans for Amon and book 1. (Note that I'm not sure when the Yakone bloodbending trial happened in canon, but it doesn't matter. The timeline I'm gonna build will be completely different post-comet, and I'll eventually write it all down so that I can keep things straight.) Which would incidentally provide excellent means of having Katara have a very personal stake in the Amon conflict, and perhaps color the fight between him and Iara, but I'm getting off track. And I think Sokka being killed by Yakone, and Toph being unable to protect or save him, or deliver her own brand of justice to avenge him (because Aang is there to stop her and.... shit probably got ugly, I suspect she didn't talk to Aang for at least twenty years after Sokka's death--and this isn't to say I think Toph is particularly violent or murderous, but in that moment, she absolutely wanted to kill the man with her bare hands, and however much she may have regretted it afterwards, she took a very long time to forgive Aang for stopping her in the first place), is what results in Toph stepping down as police chief.

She didn't withdraw from her daughters or fuck off into the swamp or anything (words cannot express how much I hate that part of her canon history), but she did grieve for a very long time. Lin, meanwhile, felt like it was up to her to keep her family together, while also feeling a desperate need to... prove herself, I think. And because her mother was so adamant that she not join the police force, that's exactly what she does. I think Lin completely misread Toph's intentions, too, and believed that the discouragement was because her mother didn't think she had what it takes, when in reality I think Toph was scared of Lin losing herself in the job like she herself had begun to, and eventually coming up on something she couldn't change or fix and making the same mistakes she had.

(I think Toph and Lin have communication issues largely because they are both headstrong and willful, but where Toph thought she was giving her daughters the room they would need to make their own way, what Lin desperately craved was direction and she felt like that was something her mother simply couldn't understand.)

Suyin, on the other hand, fell in with a bad crowd like in canon. I think that what she desperately needed was attention, similar to Lin craving direction, and Toph was trying so hard not to be her own parents that she went a little too far in the other direction and Suyin began to feel like it didn't matter what she did, her mom wouldn't care, or get angry, or discipline her, or anything. Lin and Suyin butted heads a lot growing up, too, especially after Sokka's death, because Lin tried to rein in her sister's behavior and this was met with resistance and derision because Suyin felt like Lin was trying to be both mom and dad and she was neither but her big sister would never admit to being just as lost as she was and it made her furious.

So when Suyin is sixteen, and Lin is twenty-two and new to the force, The Big Rift happens. Lin catches Suyin and her gang, tries to apprehend her, gets a scar on her face in the ensuing conflict. But instead of abusing her power and sending her problem child off to her mother before fucking off to the swamp to avoid the consequences of her actions, Toph tries to actually fix things. Suyin cools her heels in prison for a while, because she was paralyzed by guilt at the time when she hurt her sister (a few inches lower and she could have slit her throat), and was still there when Lin's backup arrived.

Uhhhhhhhhhhh..... I'm so sorry I rambled for so long, BUT THE UPSHOT IS: I think Suyin learned a bit about culpability and taking responsibility for her own actions, Toph realized that her daughters had different needs than she did at their age (and I think a lot of the problem was that grief clouded her own ability to connect with her daughters, and in trying to not be her own parents she lost sight of how to be the parent her own daughters needed), and Lin, I think, had to realize that she had never fully processed the loss of not one but two fathers and had turned to her job in order to avoid actually confronting the grief that had overshadowed her childhood.

However, she did not forgive Suyin, at least not right away--and she wasn't forced or expected to. Suyin understood that she crossed a serious line, she took her lumps and did her time, and no one shamed Lin for her anger. I think, as a result, she had less reason to hold onto that bitterness, and perhaps by the time the story actually begins, she and Suyin are on much better terms, though I haven't worked it out exactly yet.

UHHH yeah I went on for days lmao. All of this is subject to change, too, depending on the needs of the story whenever I get around to actually writing it all down, BUT these are my initial thoughts, at least.

[lazysublimeengineer]

i tasted life

Title: i tasted life

Summary: He could say thousands of words laced in silky threads of affection and sweet encouragement. But he wasn’t made that way. Words were not his forte.

Character/s: Ryuuguugi "Draken" Ken, Hanagaki "Takemitchy" Takemichi, Kawaragi Senju

I tasted life

- Emily Dickinson

His jet-black jacket glistened sharply under the moonlight as they traversed back to their residences after that meeting with the Brahman. Takemichi was uncharacteristically silent as he stared straight ahead on the road. The normally bubbly and boisterous blond was reticent as he walked beside Draken who had his hands in both of his pockets. Takemichi was still processing the earlier events that had happened at that meeting which frankly looked like an underground fighting ground that reminded him of that unsanctioned street fighting led by Kiyomasa during their middle school years.

After the official announcement made by Senju about him now being a member of the Brahman, that’s when it finally hit him. He really was risking everything on the line including his life again to make Mikey’s future great and peaceful along with them. Nevertheless, Takemichi didn’t feel any anxiety or doubt within himself. He felt that he was doing the right thing and everything was falling into the right pieces.

Nevertheless, he couldn’t shake off the nagging feeling that wanted to crawl outside of his being.

“Oi. Takemitchy.”

Draken’s familiar deep and baritone voice jolted him out of his thoughts and looked up at him. Those sharp yet concerned obsidian irises were trained on him as if trying to decipher his innermost feelings and thoughts with that single gaze alone.

A warm feeling started to creep inside his chest and Takemichi resisted the urge to smile like an idiot in front of him.

“Yeah Draken-kun?” Takemichi gazed back at him curiously.

“You okay there? I can almost hear your loud, running thoughts you know.” He commented noncommittally but there was a tinge of concern beneath his nonchalant tone.

It made Takemichi chuckled slightly, rubbing the back of his neck awkwardly. “Ah, sorry about that Draken-kun. I got lost in my head again. Sometimes.” He smiled sheepishly at him.

It made Draken paused and just stared at Takemichi’s figure who was now walking past him. But the blond had noticed that he stopped walking and turned back to him.

“Draken-kun?”

Draken didn’t know what kind of face he was making but Takemichi looked at him with his tender, blue eyes that were devoid of malice and were just watching in genuine predilection and goodwill.

It made something inside of him break. He could say thousands of words laced in silky threads of affection and sweet encouragement. But he wasn’t made that way. Words were not his forte.

But what he lacked in words made up for the simplicity of his actions and for him that was enough.

He walked quietly towards Takemichi and stopped right in front of him. Before the other could react, his arms enveloped him in a firm yet gentle hug.

“You’re wearing that kind of face once again Takemitchy. For once, I gotta tell you to stop looking like that cause you’re not alone in this fight. Not anymore. We’ll save and bring Mikey back together. Understood?” His whisper was a gentle caress around Takemichi’s being that promised a brighter future and a dazzling ray of hope.

However, why did it feel different for Takemichi?

Why did it feel like a veil of a passing bell under the gloomy skies hung around them?

“Yeah…” Takemichi choked out a response, trying to swallow back his tears but his eyes glistened slowly. He could only return back his hug tightly as if he was afraid to let him go.

Takemichi couldn’t afford to break down and cry now even if he was on the verge of wailing like a lost kid. He promised himself that he wouldn’t lose his resolve and would just keep on fighting to make things better for all of them. Although he felt like his entire being was drowning away in quicksand, just being in Draken’s arms and firm grip seemed like a strong foundation that he can lean on.

“Thank you Draken-kun…” He whispered back and the other could only hug him back tighter in response.

“No. Thank you Takemitchy. For saving me and everyone. I’ll make sure that this will be your last mission for us.”

Takemichi’s heart quavered loudly inside his chest at his response and he wasn’t sure if it’s a good or a bad thing.

Takemichi inserted his keys into the keyhole of the front door of his house and turned on the knob. After his brief but lingering moment of respite with Draken on the road, exhaustion finally crept inside of him. All he wanted to do was to fall back on his bed and sleep the night away since he knew that he had to be prepared for the next day to come. He went inside and turned on the lights, flooding the living room with a brilliant spark of the white light.

The silence was deafening inside his house but it was nothing new.

He got used to living alone and greeting no one since his parents were busy with their own careers and lives to pay attention to him anyway.

The numbness inside his heart was growing but he chose to ignore it and just headed straight to his room upstairs when he paused all of a sudden, blinking a few times when he heard a noise.

A shiver ran down Takemichi’s spine before he steeled himself and continued making his way upstairs cautiously.

As he got nearer, he could hear someone singing. It’s like a song being played. Was the radio on?

A long, long time ago

I can still remember how that music

Used to make me smile

And I knew if I had my chance

That I could make those people dance

And maybe they'd be happy for a while

It was a smooth voice of a male singing an English song that Takemichi knew nothing about. But the tone of the song had a funny yet melancholic vibe to him for some strange reason.

He was now standing in front of his doorstep to his room.

But February made me shiver

With every paper I'd deliver

Bad news on the doorstep

I couldn't take one more step

I can't remember if I cried

When I read about his widowed bride

Something touched me deep inside

The day the music died

Takemichi swallowed thickly. His heart was hammering wildly inside his chest as his hand reached out to turn the knob of the door to open it and what greeted his line of sight made him froze and mind blanked out for a second.

So, bye-bye, Miss American Pie

Drove my Chevy to the levee, but the levee was dry

And them good ol' boys were drinkin' whiskey and rye

Singin', "This'll be the day that I die

This'll be the day that I die"

In front of him was a phonograph, playing a vinyl.

And a blond male sitting in a chair with his wide eyes open and his mouth dripping with blood that went through his shirt and painted it a dark shade of crimson.

It was him.

He screamed and shot up from the bed all of a sudden. Takemichi looked around. He’s inside his own room and in his pajamas. There’s no phonograph that sounded like a death knell.

And there’s no dead doppelganger in front of him.

He was awakened from his nightmare which was dressed like a daydream.

“Hanagaki!” Senju hollered at him when he successfully tackled her on the ground and shielded her away from the bullets that the masked man shot in front of them.

“Are you alright Senju?” He asked worriedly.

“Eh?” Senju could only look up at him, still taken aback by what he did.

“I can’t let you die.” Takemichi said determinedly, staring at her intently which made the other gawk at him in silence, a slight blush marring her cheeks.

“Die Hanagaki!” The masked man screamed at them and shot at them again with his gun.

Takemichi could only close his eyes tightly as he waited for the bullets to land on his body.

But it never came.

“You good Takemitchy?” Draken drawled out as he glanced at him before approaching the masked men who grew fearful of him and dropped their guns, running away.

It made Takemichi opened his eyes and stared at Draken with wide eyes.

“Thank you so much Draken-kun…” There was gratefulness behind his voice.

Draken smiled wryly before he kicked the gun away. “They got the nerve to attack with such dangerous weapons.”

After Takemichi made sure that Senju’s completely okay, he went towards Draken’s spot and quickly leaned closer to his ear to whisper something.

“Let’s keep us it between us, but… Just now, I was able to foresee the future.”

It made Draken’s eyes wide for a fraction of a second.

“In that future, I saw Senju protecting me. I’ve prevented that outcome.” Takemichi continued to whisper seriously to him.

Meanwhile, Senju was looking at both of them with a curious yet perplexed expression on her face.

“What are you guys whispering about?” She asked.

“It’s all thanks to you Draken-kun. We’ve successfully changed one future!”

“Is that so…” Draken had a wistful smile on his face afterward. “Then I’m glad.”

“Hey, I think we gotta go! We’ll be in trouble if someone gets here!” Senju cut off their whisperings towards each other with a worried reminder.

Takemichi immediately sprang into action. “Ah, you’re right!”

They’re both running now when Takemichi noticed that Draken was just standing there and not doing anything.

“Draken-kun?” He paused and called out hesitantly.

His back was still turned to him when Draken spoke his words. “Takemichi… Please tell this to Mikey…”

“Huh?”

“Don’t cause too much trouble…”

“What are you talking about?! You tell him yourse-.”

He stopped midsentence when Draken crumpled down to the ground like a ragdoll.

Takemichi felt like a cold bucket of water was spilled on him as his eyes grew wide as saucers and stood frozen for a moment.

“I’ve done all I can do.” Draken murmured with a peaceful smile on his lips as his eyes watched dazedly on the raindrops that pelted on his body.

I started singin', bye-bye, Miss American Pie

Drove my Chevy to the levee, but the levee was dry

Them good ol' boys were drinkin' whiskey and rye

Singin', "This'll be the day that I die

This'll be the day that I die"

(A/N: The day I own these characters is the day that my fanfic is the bestselling novel on the market which will never happen. Inspired by the events from chapter 221 of the manga. Senju lived. Mikey finally appeared. But at what cost? Also, I was listening to the song American Pie by Don Mclean when I was writing this fic and it fits since behind that upbeat yet lazy tone of the singer, the lyrics and the message of the song are quite tragic. Which honestly fits into the latest chapter of the manga. Lastly, where the hell is Wakasa? He only appeared for 2 chapters and I missed him already. I need to see him in the next chapter to free me from the angsty land of the latest chapter. Reviews are entertaining. So, let me hear them from you.)

[gamerwoo]

[Tales from the Pack] Hansol: Fire and Ice (Part Eight)

Characters: Hansol x female reader

Genre/warnings: werewolf au, fantasy, angst but it’s actually not too angsty, i wouldn’t really call any of this fluff necessarily but it’s definitely not super angsty, mentions of not eating bc depression, mentions of death and suicide

Word count: 2,701

Summary: You’ve always been one to let your emotions get the best of you – your power reflects that – and you’ve never been good at expressing them. That’s why you always thought you’d be awful with a mate, but you never thought things would be this awful.

a/n: things in bold are in english. also since people have been asking, at the bottom of the tftp info list, there’s a list for jiung’s pack. i didn’t think remembering their names and such were really important for the story but people wanted to know who they were and requested i add it anyway. if there’s any other info you’d like me to add, please let me know!!

Previous | Next | Fire and Ice Masterlist

As expected, you were gone when Hansol woke up on the couch. He checked his room and saw a note on the nightstand, along with Chanseong’s ring. The necklace, however, wasn’t there.

Please give this to the pack. They deserve something of theirs as much as I do.

-_____

Hansol put the ring in his pocket before grabbing a jacket and some shoes to go out for the day. He figured he could make it to their house and be back in time for lunch, so he started off as soon as he was ready to go.

As he got to the door, Soonyoung stopped him, “Suvi and I went and spoke to that doctor the other day -- the one Hanbin’s pack mentioned to us. She said she can take a look at you…if you want.”

Hansol nodded, “I’m still thinking about it.”

“When will you decide?” Soonyoung sighed. “We all know it’s hurting you.”

Hansol couldn’t deny that even having on a very thin t-shirt still irritated the silver in him, but he wasn’t going to fix it until he was sure there was a good reason to.

“I’ll decide when _____ decides,” he stated before leaving the house and going toward Hanbin’s.

-

As expected, it only took a few hours in his human form. The ring was safely in his pocket, and he checked every so often to make sure it was still there. He didn’t want to touch it too much but he wanted to make sure it wasn’t suddenly lost or something.

Besides giving the pack the ring, he wanted to get a few things for you. Maybe some of your clothes or belongings you didn’t take, probably a few more shirts of Jiung’s just so you’d have other things that smelled like him. Maybe he’d even get one of his blankets or something just so it wouldn’t lose his scent as quickly. He just wanted things that would make you feel more at home with his pack, even if you only decided to stay with them for a short amount of time.

The fact that you were pushing him away hurt, but what hurt more was that you were unhappy. Hansol didn’t blame you, not at all. He knew you were pushing people away to cope, and people coped it different ways. Like you, some people preferred being alone rather than surrounded by others. Your brother had died, then his mate confessed to only you that he was going to kill himself, you were expected to step up and be an alpha, and everyone had been yelling at you to make decisions since the moment you woke up. He didn’t blame you for acting the way you did, even if you were pushing him away, too. He wanted to give you space to heal, hoping you’d come to him when you were ready.

But even if he wasn’t really the one who killed your brother, he understood your anger and frustration. From what your old pack had told him, you were known for bottling up your emotions until they burst, and you acted without thinking of consequences. You didn’t know how to make sense of what you felt, and you needed something or someone to blame and take your anger out on. Everyone who came near seemed to be a target, but he at least understood why you felt so angry. As long as he understood you, he didn’t think anyone else needed to.

He strolled up to the deck and knocked on the door. He smiled politely down at the mate who answered. He vaguely recalled her name was Seongmi.

“Oh, you’re from that other pack,” the girl smiled politely when she recognized him. “How can we help you?”

“Actually, I have something for your pack,” he began, as Hanbin and Jaesang made their way over. “And…I was wondering if maybe there was anything I could bring back for _____?”

“_____ ran away to your pack?” Hanbin asked, a relieved smile on his face.

Despite what Hanbin probably assumed, Hansol’s expression dropped, shaking his head, “No, not directly. She… One of our mates – the banshee – found her trying to do harm to herself. We got lucky.”

“_____…” Jaesang sighed, shaking his head as he ran his hands over his face.

Hanbin waved the younger wolf inside, “Please come in, Hansol.”

So he followed the two wolves into the living room. Most of the mates didn’t seem to be home, save for Rika who was sewing up Hyojun’s shirt that was completely torn down the back. The wolf just looked up at you and grinned while Rika kept her eyes on the needle between her delicate fingers.

The rest of the pack was inside and seemed to just be resting, mostly. Baekhan was lounging on the couch with a mug in his hands, and Jinyoung was sipping from a bottle of whiskey as he spoke about something else entirely to the two wolves in the room. The only one who seemed to be missing was Rin.

“Hey, Hansol!” Jinyoung nodded as he lifted his bottle to the young wolf. “What brings you back here? Wait, _____ didn’t–”

“_____ is safe,” Hanbin stated.

Jinyoung nodded again, trying to settle his heart that had picked up as he took another sip of whiskey, “Good, good. So then why’d you decide to stop by?”

“I went back to the house the other night,” he began as he fished around in his pocket. “I was hoping to find…well, anything related to Jiung or Chanseong, and I found Jiung’s necklace and gave it to _____. But she left and note and said you guys might want this.”

He opened his palm to show the ring. Hanbin took it, a smile growing on his face as he realized what it was. Even Rika had stopped what she was doing to see what it was.

“Is that…?” her question trailed off, her voice soft.

“It’s the ring,” Hanbin chuckled, shaking his head. “I’ll be damned. We figured there wasn’t going to be anything left.”

“That’s probably not made out of any normal gold,” Hyojun nodded. “Actually...what temperature does gold melt at?”

Hanbin looked up from the ring, his golden eyes sparkling, “Thank you, seriously. Bringing this back means the world to us.”

Hansol nodded in reply.

“You wanted some of the kid’s stuff, right?” Jaesang asked as Hanbin handed the ring off to Rika for her to look at.

Rika rolled her eyes before examining the ring, “She’s still older than you, Jae.”

“And maybe some of Jiung’s, if that’s okay. I noticed she likes to wear his things, and I figured the sweater she’s been wearing is losing his scent. Maybe there’s something that’ll keep the scent for longer that’s less prone to getting dirty,” Hansol chuckled, carding a hand through his hair.

“Of course,” Hanbin nodded. “Follow me.”

The alpha led him upstairs, going to your room first. Hansol quickly went through and grabbed anything he thought you might need, stuffing it into a backpack that was hung on the back of your door. He made sure to grab the picture of you, Jiung, and what he assumed was the rest of your family, off of your nightstand as well, and one of you and a very large group of people – he assumed was the pack before so many died – before he left the room.

Down the hall, Hanbin stopped and opened a door. As soon as it was opened, Hansol knew it was Jiung’s because it still smelled strongly of the late alpha. He looked around a bit, noticing the place was less minimalistic than yours. It had a lot more pictures on desks and dressers, and even hanging on the walls. Clearly, family and pack were something Jiung treasured dearly. There were pictures of other people around Jiung’s age, as well as pictures of people who seemed to be from other countries just like the one he’d grabbed from your room. With Hanbin’s help, Hansol was able to pack pictures that seemed most important, such as ones with your family and old pack members you were close with.

The second thing he did was go through Jiung’s clothes, grabbing as many sweaters as he could since you seemed to like warm things – he assumed it was because of your firebending power – but also a few t-shirts. Hanbin also took the knitted throw blanket from Jiung’s bed and handed it over to the younger wolf.

“His mother knitted this for him and sent it with him as a birthday gift one year,” the alpha explained. “I think _____ will like this, and she’ll probably keep it someplace where it won’t lose the scent. But if she ever misses him and needs something else to feel close to him, you know where to find us.”

Hansol gave the older wolf a grateful smile, “Thank you, Hanbin.”

“You take good care of _____, okay?” Hanbin told him, clapping a hand on Hansol’s shoulder. “If you can do anything about it, don’t let her leave you. I know she’s not really mad at you, but she’s too overwhelmed to face her real emotions. Just…help her though them if you can.”

“I’ll try,” Hansol nodded with a sure look, “I promise.”

-

As he expected, Hansol made it back just in time for lunch. He went and brought everything upstairs, planning to unpack it all afterwards. You weren’t up there, so he assumed you weren’t home – at least he hoped that you weren’t home yet but you would be. So he left the backpack on the bed and went downstairs to wash up for lunch.

As he bounded down the steps, he could hear the pack talking with each other. They seemed to be adjusting nicely to the new house which made everybody happy. Suvi was so far unrecognizable – then again, word about her might not have traveled this far yet – Eunjin hadn’t been screaming as often – though she did one night but she said it was because she couldn’t “hear them” and nobody was going to ask what that meant – and even the wolves seemed to enjoy the larger space. The only person having a more difficult time was Jia just because she was still trying to memorize the layout.

“Hansol!” Yeji grinned as she walked over to him. Dirt was covering every part of her skin that was exposed, and her tail was swishing lazily behind her with some patches of fur matted down. “Do you know if _____ is coming?”

He just shrugged, trying not to let his face turn into a frown, “I’m not sure, to be honest.”

Yeji just scrunched up her nose, one of her ears twitching slightly, “Oh… Uh, well, try not to get too upset over it, y’know? She’s still…recovering.”

“Im Yeji!” Jihoon barked, frowning at the state his mate was in. “Go clean up, you’re not eating like that!”

“Relax,” she scoffed, turning to face her mate, “I’ve eaten off the forest floor before.”

“No,” he stated, grabbing her  hand and bringing her to the bathroom. “You’re not eating while you’re covered in dirt. That’s disgusting.”

Hansol just chuckled at the couple and made his way to the kitchen where most of the pack was, and where the great smell of food was coming from. He hoped that maybe someday you and him could be like Yeji and Jihoon. He thought they were cute.

The pack started taking seats as they waited for food to be done. They typically took food from the stove and then went to wherever to eat it, but they only sat at the table to wait for it to be done. And sure enough, at noon, Soomin, Jun, and Mingyu stepped away from the stove to let the mates get their food.

And only a few seconds later did Hansol’s heartbeat pick up, and then a moment after that, the front door opened. The werewolves heard it as well, but the entire pack didn’t look until the door closed.

You appeared in the doorway, seeing lots of eyes on you which made your cheeks heat up involuntarily.

“…Hi,” was all you could think to say.

“Hi, _____!” Danbi chirped, and you thanked whatever higher being that she was there to make things less weird. “Glad to have you for lunch!”

“Yeah, come sit,” Mingyu smiled, waving you in.

As you entered the kitchen, you locked eyes with Hansol for a brief moment. He was looking at you almost in awe, like God had appeared right in front of him for afternoon tea, and you felt your face heating up even more. You cast your gaze downward as you went to take the seat between Mingyu and Eunjin.

“_____, you’re welcome to get food with the girls,” Soomin told you.

You just shook your head, replying instinctively, “Mates eat first.”

That was always the rule with your previous pack: mates, then both male and female wolves. You may not have eaten as much as a male wolf could, but you definitely ate more than any human.

So after all the mates got their food, Mingyu gestured for you to help yourself. However, you didn’t want to eat. You still had that pit in your stomach that just made you want to gag at the mere idea of food. You really just wanted to go crawl back into bed and hide, but you couldn’t do that here -- you did go back to Baekhyun just to let him know you were still alive because he panicked a lot when he woke up to you missing, and you considered just staying there again. There were too many people here to hide, and you were sure to get annoyed by the noise.

“I’m not hungry,” you mumbled, waving their concerned looks away with your hand.

“_____, you should really eat something,” Soonyoung spoke up. “When was the last time you ate?”

“When I was out,” you lied. All you actually did when you were out was hide to escape the noise and people to be alone. “I’m fine, seriously.”

So the males got up to get their food, taking basically whatever was left. You listened to the pack chat with each other while you silently watched them eat. Hansol sat on the opposite side of the table between Seokmin and Joshua, and you could feel his eyes on you the entire time. However, he didn’t try making conversation with you at all.

“So, _____,” Joshua began, speaking in English as he gathered food with his utensils, “mind if I ask what you’ve been up to lately?”

You just shrugged, “It’s been a while since I’ve seen the town. I went to visit some old friends, went to see what’s changed, stuff like that.”

“And how are you…feeling today?” he asked, his tone suddenly more serious as he was referring to what happened the night before.

You just shook your head and didn’t say anything. He got the hint, though. You didn’t want to talk about it, and that was a feeling he understood. Although, you still couldn’t help but wonder how Eunjin got to you when she did. Did Jiung really manage to lead her there before anything happened? Was she sure it was him?

“Does Eunjin know who she’s speaking to?” you asked Josh, looking down at your plate. You would’ve asked her yourself, but you didn’t want to let the rest of the pack in on your conversation topic. “Like, is she aware of who they were before?”

“I think so, yeah,” Josh nodded. “Why, are you thinking about last night?”

Slowly, you nodded, looking up to meet Joshua’s curious golden eyes, “My parents believed in spirits and stuff. They also said that if you woke up from a dream with a headache, that a spirit was getting inside your head to talk to you.”

The older wolf just shrugged, “I dunno, _____. At this point, I kind of just believe any of that could be possible. I guess it’s up to you to decide if you believe, though.”

[twentiethcenturymoviesandtv]

Episode Spotlight: M*A*S*H, Season 1, Episode 17: Sometimes You Hear the Bullet

Frank Burns throws his back out and applies for a Purple Heart.  Meanwhile, Hawkeye Pierce meets, and later operates on, an old friend and struggles with the decision of whether or not to send an underaged soldier home.

More than halfway through season 1, M*A*S*H wasn’t exactly killing in the ratings.  The show wasn’t quite sure of itself yet, with tons of recurring characters that would end up dropped and other characters not yet added to the main cast.  Airing at eight o’clock on Sunday nights, M*A*S*H was, at this stage in the game, a relatively normal sitcom, albeit one with a bit sharper sense of humor.

That all changed with Sometimes You Hear the Bullet.

I’ll show you what I mean.

The episode starts humorously enough: Major Frank Burns throws his back out during a rendezvous with Major Houlihan.  He is placed into traction, where he applies for a Purple Heart for his ‘injury’.  Meanwhile, Hawkeye is visited by an old friend and kindred irreverent spirit: Corporal Tommy Gillis, a journalist who signed up for the front lines as he writes his book: You Never Hear the Bullet, a book meant to be written from a soldier’s point of view, instead of a reporter’s.

A helicopter full of wounded arrive at the unit, and Gillis returns to his post.

Among the wounded is a young man with a burst appendix, a Private Wendell Petersen, who is very anxious to get back to the front lines.  Hawkeye tells him that he has to rest for a few days before returning to his unit.  This doesn’t stop Wendell from attempting to steal an army jeep to try to get back, afraid that he was going to be sent home.

After talking with him, Hawkeye figures out the truth: Wendell Petersen is actually Walter Peterson, and he’s not even sixteen years old.

It turns out that Walter posed as his brother, Wendell, and entered the war to impress his girlfriend back home by returning with a medal.  He begs Hawkeye to keep his secret, and, after returning him to his bed, Hawkeye agrees.

Shortly, more wounded arrive, and among them is Tommy Gillis.  Hawkeye operates on him, but even his best is not enough, and he dies on the operating table after telling Hawkeye that he did hear the bullet.  Hawkeye tries to revive him, but Colonel Henry Blake orders him to move on to save another life.

Afterwards, Hawkeye breaks down crying.

“Henry, I know why I’m crying now. Tommy was my friend, and I watched him die, and I’m crying. I’ve watched guys die almost every day. Why didn’t I ever cry for them?”

“Because you’re a doctor.”

Hawkeye asks what that means, and Henry answers with one of the greatest lines in the show’s history.

“I don’t know. If I had the answer, I’d be at the Mayo Clinic. Does this place look like the Mayo Clinic? Look, all I know is what they taught me at command school. There are certain rules about a war. And rule number one is young men die. And rule number two is, doctors can’t change rule number one.”

Right then and there, Hawkeye decides to change rule number one in some small way, and calls the MPs on Private Wendell, really Walter, outing the fact that he’s underage.  Walter, outraged, tells Hawkeye that he’ll never forgive Hawkeye for the rest of his life.

Hawkeye replies: “Let’s hope it’s a long and healthy hate.”

In one final scene (one that’s usually cut from syndication), Henry Blake begins to present Frank with his Purple Heart, only to find it replaced with a purple earring, while outside, Hawkeye pins the Purple Heart on Walter to make up for turning him in, sending him home, but home a hero.

The end.

Sometimes You Hear the Bullet is considered one of M*A*S*H’s best episodes for a reason.  This is an early episode, one that is regarded as a tone and trend setter for the rest of the series in terms of both storyline balance (one or two serious plotlines, one humorous), and content itself, one of the first episodes to sit down and truly explore the characters within this tragic situation.  At this moment, M*A*S*H ceased being a comedy show and became a dramedy, with one of the most memorable moments and exchanges in the show’s long history.

While this episode may seem like a standard half-hour of television, at the time, especially for this show, it was something different.  It was no longer a slapstick grittier Hogan’s Heroesque irreverent comedy about soldiers, it was a show about a group of people stuck in the middle of a war, with death all around them.  And no matter how good Hawkeye, or any of the doctors, are at their jobs, they’ll never be able to save everyone.

It’s sobering, but it’s a truth that the show had, for the first time, truly explored, and it’s that initial exploration, that glimmer of what this show was going to become, that puts this episode under so much recognition: Sometimes You Hear the Bullet was the warning sign, the first moment that the writers got a handle on the show that would become a classic.

Of course, it has it’s problems.  

Not tonal ones, at least, not exactly.  Throughout its entire run, M*A*S*H often had two or three plots going, one serious, one humorous.  This is a smart strategy: balance out the dark with the light, giving each episode a more even feeling instead of being too much one or the other.  Although the show would get darker and more serious as time went on, the writers never abandoned this plan, allowing M*A*S*H to remain a consistent dramedy throughout the show’s run, keeping the audience laughing and crying at the same time.

In the case of Sometimes You Hear the Bullet, the ‘funny’ subplot is obvious: Frank Burns and his Purple Heart.  The other two storylines are the serious ones: Hawkeye’s friend, as well as the underaged soldier.  However, in most cases, as in this one, these plotlines inevitably intersect, and it’s here that this particular episode might cause a few problems.

I mentioned that the final scene in the episode is typically cut from syndication: the sequence where Frank’s purple heart is stolen and given to the underaged soldier, instead.  While this scene may not, at first, seem inherently out of place within the context of the rest of the episode, swinging from comedy to drama within a minute, there are those who believe that this scene unintentionally undermines the rest of the episode, or the main thrust established a few moments earlier.

And those people aren’t exactly wrong.

I certainly agree that the episode would have been stronger had it ended with the soldier’s final interaction with Hawkeye been proclaiming his hatred, only for Hawkeye to soberly respond that he hopes it’s a long and healthy hate.  Changing that to this new ending, where Hawkeye sends him home with a medal, seems almost out of character for Hawkeye, taking away some of the sincerity and severity of the message just a moment earlier.  The idea that this soldier could bring himself to forgive Hawkeye so soon, before realizing what exactly he’d been saved from, seems a little disingenuous after the weight previously given to this subplot.

In later episodes, it’s possible, even probable that this episode wouldn’t have ended tied in such a neat bow.  But that’s one of the things that’s so interesting about this episode.

Sometimes You Hear the Bullet isn’t the first episode of ‘true’ M*A*S*H as it would be remembered in the future, but it is the first episode where M*A*S*H comes into its own themes, looking hard at war, and the toll it takes not only on the soldiers, but on the surgeons, as well.  Before this, for the most part, ‘characters’, friends of the cast, did not die on the operating table.  Not when Hawkeye could save him.

But I’m going to quote Hawkeye from another season 1 M*A*S*H episode, Yankee Doodle Doctor, as I think that it sums up this the point of this episode pretty well:

“Three hours ago, this man was in a battle. Two hours ago, we operated on him. He’s got a 50-50 chance. We win some, we lose some. That’s what it’s all about. No promises. No guaranteed survival. No saints in surgical garb. Our willingness, our experience, our technique are not enough. Guns, and bombs, and anti-personnel mines have more power to take life than we have to preserve it. Not a very happy ending for a movie. But then, no war is a movie.”

That right there is the point of Sometimes You Hear the Bullet, to the point where the doomed Tommy Gillis even references the film tropes of a young, fresh-faced kid hearing the bullet that kills him.  This is the message that Hawkeye must grapple with: he cannot save everyone.

No matter how much he knows, how good he is, he can never save everyone.  No guaranteed survival.

It’s sobering, but it’s the truth.  And it’s what makes this episode so memorable.

M*A*S*H at this point was still mostly a comedy, a series full of jokes and the occasional serious moment, and it would continue to be so for another few years.  But it was this episode, episode seventeen of the first season, that signaled to audiences that this show could be more than that.  It could make you laugh, sure, but it could make you cry, and it wasn’t that surprising: this was war.

In short: by itself, is Sometimes You Hear the Bullet one of the greatest episodes of television, or even M*A*S*H, ever written?  Maybe.  Maybe not.  But what it is, without much doubt, is the first sign of maturity in a show that had a lot of growing up to do.

Whether the shift was instantaneous or not, the fact is, Sometimes You Hear the Bullet was a game changer in the show’s history, the first break in format that truly showed audiences what they could expect in the years ahead.

On top of that?  It’s just a good episode.

The plot balance is decent, without too much mood-whiplash that could so easily occur in a war dramedy.  The characters, decently familiar to audiences by now, all work off of each other just as well as ever, funny, interesting, and heartfelt in turn.  It’s an example of early M*A*S*H at it’s best, overshadowing many first season episodes with a level of depth previously mostly unexplored, delivering on every scene and remaining mostly genuine.  It’s an engaging episode, full of memorable moments that are thoughtful and earnest, making this episode a standout, a moment in television history, and an unmissable installment for avid watchers of M*A*SH, and television fans in general.

Don’t forget that the comment box is always open for anything from suggestions and discussion ideas to questions and conversations!  Thank you guys so much for reading, and I hope to see you guys in the next article.

[hopelesshawks]

Official Accounts Part 17- The Patrol Redux

Summary: (y/n) was perfectly happy remaining anonymous, even if her best friends were all pro heroes and she worked under THE Hawks. Handling the technical aspects of hero work from the background suited her just fine, thank you very much. That goes out the window when suddenly her twitter blows up thanks Denki and the famed no. 2 hero is asking her to run his own official twitter as a result

If you don’t want to see Official Accounts content blacklist #hopelessoa

Warning: Very slight spoilers for the provisional licensing exam in the anime and spoiler for the manga

Masterlist

Hawks was well accustomed to the jovial persona he was expected to put on in front of pretty much everyone outside of the commission. After all, it was one he’d cultivated almost his whole life. Of course he had days throughout the years where it felt all too exhausting to play the joker, but hero work was exhausting. That was the nature of the business. But since he’d watch your heart shatter in real time, since he’d heard you crying on the other side of a bathroom door all while you texted him about his betrayal, the persona hadn’t just been exhausting but absolutely suffocating. Yet he couldn’t turn it off. It was almost more natural to be Hawks than it was to be Keigo now. Even when Mirko had pointed out how rough he looked, his instinct had been to sit up straighter and perk up his wings as if that would hide the bags under his eyes. Hawks never dropped the persona. But as he sat on the roof of a building by where he intended to meet Chargebolt he realized he would probably have to.

Mirko had given him a plan. A really good one at that. If it worked he’d have to thank her later. But there was no way it would if he wasn’t genuine and that meant meeting Denki Kaminari as Keigo Takami. If the conversation stayed between Chargebolt and Hawks he was screwed. Knowing it was necessary and actually doing it, however, were two different beasts entirely. He would have to ignore every instinct he had honed over the more than decade he’d been a ward of the HPSC.

It had taken all of Denki’s strength to leave the apartment. You had looked so sad bundled up in his comforter staring blankly at your laptop screen as you went back and forth between attempting to work from the safety of his home and Netflix. Eventually though he had managed to pull himself away from his heartbroken friend, no matter how much it pained him, to go join the very person who had shattered you so thoroughly. He had wanted to cancel his patrols with Hawks but after the gossip blog had tweeted out about a potential feud his agency had demanded he keep it in order to avoid a pr nightmare. Who knew being a hero came with so much politics.

He expected Hawks to swoop down from above once he arrived at their designated meeting spot. He did not expect Hawks to look as bad as he did. “You look like shit,” Denki says by way of greeting. Hawks let’s out a humorless chuckle, “you’re the second person to tell me that today. Let’s go.” Everything about the experience is odd. As the two begin to walk Denki notices the bags under his eyes, the heavy set to his shoulders. For the first time ever Hawks truly looks like a man who carries the weight of Japan on his shoulders. “I know I have no right to ask this but how is she doing?” Hawks asks. Denki wants to snap back something snarky but something tells him not to. “Not good,” he says instead, shoving his hands into the pockets of his costume. Hawks thinks for a long moment, debating whether to ask the next question that comes to mind. In the end he decides he’s got nothing left to lose. “What happened at the provisional licensing exam?” “Dude.” “Not investigating. I swear.”

It’s weird to see Hawks so serious. Even when Denki had been injured during their first patrol Hawks hadn’t stopped bantering even once. It’s what had made Denki want to continue patrolling with him in the first place. At the time he thought they were similar. Class clowns who knew how to pull it together when the going got tough. But now all traces of that joviality seemed gone, except for the few moments the two of them would pass by a civilian, then he’d watch it slide back on like a second skin. “I’ll tell you on one condition. You explain the whole funny guy act thing you’ve got going on right now. It’s creeping me out a little seeing you switch back and forth dude,” Denki says.

Hawks stops dead in his tracks. His jaw clenches because it’s fair, trading one personal fact for another, but it goes against everything the HPSC has taught him. On the other hand, if he refuses, Denki will assume he’s just investigating again and then his chances of winning you back would really be gone. Denki looks confused as Hawks agonizes. He didn’t think it was that deep a question. Expected something along the lines of why All Might used to smile as he saved people. “It was the commission’s idea. I was a quiet kid and quiet doesn’t play well for a top hero,” Hawks finally admits before resuming walking. Denki has to speed up a little to keep pace. It’s an odd answer but he recognizes it must’ve been a difficult one to give. And, well, a deal is a deal.

“Like I said, (y/n) only took the exam because I pressured her into it,” Denki starts. He expected Hawks to perk up at learning new information about you but the man only nods in acknowledgment that he’s listening. “I thought if she got her license it’d convince her to try to be a pro hero again and then she could switch over to the hero course and join my class. She absolutely crushed the first part of the exam too. Yknow we had to tag targets on each other with these balls they gave us. It felt like a game so it was fun for her because she just smoked people out of the water. You should’ve seen Bakugo’s face when he realized she passed before he did! But uh, not the point.... The, uh, the point is uhm second round didn’t go so hot. We were helping some of the fake civilians when Gang Orca broke into the arena to play a villain attacking during a rescue and it, uh, it hit a little too close to home. Reminded her too much of how her mom died. She ended up having a panic attack. That’s why she failed and that’s why she didn’t bother going to any of the supplemental classes afterwards.”

The weight on Hawks’ shoulders seems to grow. “God I really am the worst aren’t I?” he chuckles. “Yea you kinda are,” Denki agrees, “but you’re kinda making it hard for me to hate you. Looking all torn up over this like that. It’s depressing seeing the number two hero like this yknow.” “Hence the persona,” Hawks shrugs. It’s quiet today, although they both expected as much. At least it gave them the space to talk. “Why’d you do it Hawks?” Denki finally asks. “Because she was too good to be true.” “Funny. She said the same thing about you that day.” “I’m many things but I don’t know if good is one of them anymore.” “Because of what happened with (y/n)?” “No. Not just that.” “I think this is the most honest I’ve ever seen you.” “This is the most honest I’ve ever been.” “How’s it feel?” “Terrifying. Mirko says I have trust issues.” “Yea that lines up.” “I need to talk to (y/n).”

Denki is the one to stop in his tracks this time. “I swear to god Hawks if you’re just trying to jerk her around I-“ “No! No it’s not that. I-,” Hawks sighs, “I just want a chance to explain why I am the way I am. Why I was so suspicious in the first place. If she wants nothing to do with me after that then that will be the end of it. I’ll write her a glowing recommendation letter for whatever hero agency she’d rather work at instead and she’ll never hear from me again. I swear.” Denki gives Hawks a considering look. Part of him wants to deny Hawks. That’s what Bakugo would do. Tell him to fuck off and keep his stupid explanations to himself. But he thought about you, curled up in his comforter, and decided it really shouldn’t be his decision whether Hawks stayed in your life or not. And if you were going to decide, you deserved to do so knowing all the facts. “Fine. After we finish patrol you can come with me to my place and talk to her but I swear to god if you make her cry again or I detect any bullshit, I’ll fry you Hawks. Number two hero or not I’ll send a million volts straight through your face with my fist.” “Thank you.” It was sighed out like a prayer. For the first time since you’d seen his texts, Hawks felt hopeful.

Author’s Note: Denki and Mirko are good friends to (y/n) and Hawks :’) In my mind there’s no way the HPSC didn’t know about Touya so I assume they helped Endeavor cover it up and would do their absolute best to make sure word didn’t get out about him being a literal child abuser

Taglist [open]: @cathy8taffy @katzurras @grumpyfroggies @captaincyberqueen @itskindofafairything @420-uwu @someweirdshitman @oliviasslut

[thegeminisage]

Here's something I'd love your take on: I read a meta recently (would link it but I can't remember where, ack) that suggested that Sam is able to forgive John in later seasons because a) he's had the whole "family making unilateral decisions for your own good" thing repeatedly shoved down his throat, and b) whatever John did under this umbrella in their childhoods, Dean has done far worse by that point, and Sam HAS to forgive him so by extension he can't really be mad at John anymore (1/2)

(2/2) As someone who has admittedly only seen bits and pieces of the later seasons, this seems to jive with Sam losing a lot of his characteristic early-seasons anger, letting Dean call the shots almost all the time even when he thinks it's the wrong move, and moments of sympathy for John (contrasted w/Dean's growing resentment, which is so interesting!). But! I got some big ol' gaps in my spn comprehension, so was curious if you had any thoughts on this dynamic

wow okay long answer warning! i got carried away and forgot how to use punctuation. nobody is obligated to read all of this lol and the biggest part of the answer is behind a cut. anyway!!

first things first: i think a big thing to remember with sam’s characterization in later seasons is that it’s like...not there, and when it is there, it’s sometimes flat and inconsistent. because dean became sole the main protagonist after the first 8 (arguably the first 5 or even first 2) seasons, sam sort of got demoted to “side character we don’t know what to do with” along with cas and crowley. they all had good arcs pop up now and then (sam had some fun stuff going on with lucifer in s11 and s13) but most of the time the writers either don’t know how to give him a meaningful characterization or don’t care (or both). so we have to do a lot of that work ourselves. 

so, for example, when we talk about sam losing his anger, i like to read it as him OVERCOMING that anger to avoid becoming his father (which may even be where some of the seemingly sympathetic comments come from, because he’s trying to be forgiving instead of angry), but really...it’s that the writers forgot he had anger issues. in-universe explanation vs irl explanation, yk? and i think pretty much all meta about sam in late seasons is written through that lens, whether the writer of that meta knows it or not. including this one! i can’t prove any of this shit, it’s my personal reading, i’m making it up. like there were just SO many different people involved in the production of supernatural that there was a lot of conflict and contradictions in things like continuity and characterization. (most of the writers room hadn’t even seen every episode!) so there’s not one definitive way to go about it. in many ways it makes the characters more nuanced and in many other ways it makes me fucking insane.

as for sam and john and whether or not sam forgives him, i’m actually glad you asked because this has been driving me nuts for a long time and it took me SO LONG to pin it down - sam’s relationship with john is very different to dean’s, and i couldn’t figure out WHY. it’s not that he was “abused less,” it’s not that he loved john less or was less hurt by his actions, so why doesn’t he seem as INVESTED in everything that happened to them as kids? like he says in season 14 he had to learn to let it go and that it was all a lifetime ago for him. meanwhile i think dean still deals with it every day. he’s still stewing in it to some degree 24/7. so like what’s the difference??

i think it comes down to two things. firstly, that while dean didn’t have anybody parenting him except john (and mary, but only for a very short time that he could actually remember), SAM’S parents were john AND DEAN. most of the time dean was the one raising sam, and in fact he arguably did way more parenting of sam than john did. so the person that made dean feel safe and like he could fight back against monsters, the person he was grateful to, was john. but the person who made SAM feel safest was dean. he doesn’t have that same gratitude towards john that dean does and he never will, because of how john made him feel alienated and excluded from their family growing up. dean’s resentment of john is so tangled up in this very deep and unconditional love and gratitude for him that sam just doesn’t have. 

secondly, i think dean has a serious case of “i can fix him” re: john that sam doesn’t have and possibly never had. john just never showed sam the same kind of inclusion and warmth and trust that he showed dean (however rarely he showed it, and however fucked up it was). i think sam figured out very very early on that their quest for yellow eyes was either a long shot or straight up impossible, and that they couldn’t waste their entire lives doing it, and that even if the demon died, john was never going to change. dean 100% drank the koolaid - he really truly believed in a world where someday they’d kill the demon and all retire from the life and be normal and be a family again, because that’s what john said and dean took his father’s word as gospel. sam knew better.

so i think what sam did was just disengage. partially because he felt he couldn’t afford to nurse that kind of anger and not become either his father or lucifer, and partially because even though sam loved john, still loves john, he never needed him the way dean did, because sam had dean. so it doesn’t hurt him as much to just “gray rock” it. i think if sam stopped and really dug into it he’d find that he’s still quite angry (probably more angry on dean’s behalf than his own, at least at first, because in his mind he was able to move past it and dean was not, dean had it worse, HIS OWN trauma isn’t real etc etc), but he doesn’t do that because he doesn’t want to be that angry, and possibly even thinks that if he brought it up dean would jump to john’s defense and it would cause a fight, which the opposite of what a gray rock does.

as for being forced to forgive john because if he didn’t he would also have to condemn dean...i don’t think i buy that at all. sam is fine making dean his exception and he allows dean to get away with a lot of deeply horrible shit he would condemn other people for. partially because he’s dean and sam loves him, but in my ~personal reading~ of sam, this is also because once sam became an adult the weight of everything dean did and had to give up to raise him really sank in, and part of him felt guilty (even though sam arguably didn’t have a childhood either). you know how kids take care of their parents in old age to repay them for raising them? that’s sort of how sam is with dean in later seasons - he implies multiple times that he would leave the hunting life forever and not look back if it weren’t for dean.

and as a side note - sorry, this is only tangentially related - dean implies several times in later seasons that the job is where he finds his sense of accomplishment and self-esteem and meaning - he believes the world is a better place because of what he and sam do, and even though he doesn’t always like DOING the job, he likes the outcome. it’s weird because this is as close as we see dean get to even HAVING self esteem. sam, emotionally intelligent, would have picked up on that - and since he and dean have both tried to leave the life multiple times and have always come to regret it, i also think part of sam believes you CAN’T escape - certainly SAM could never escape so long as dean was still in it, because whether he meant to or not dean would always pull him back in. and part of dean doesn’t really want to escape because he’s made his peace with it. so sam stays, and i think even if he can’t find the same meaning in the job that dean does, he finds a lot of meaning in being there for dean. (this, like gray rocking, is also consistent with the seasons where sam’s sole character trait is caring about dean lol. but i’m happy enough to read it in a kinder and less bitter/resentful way.)

it IS worth noting i think that the most forgiving sam ever was about john was in the adam episode, where he said he understood why he was the way he was and why he did what he did, and when dean said they were alike sam decided to take it as a compliment. sam in season 4 is arguably at one of his lowest points - struggling with addiction, consumed by anger and hatred and the need for revenge. he WAS like john in many ways, and i think he justified what john was doing because it also justified what HE was doing. but what he was doing led to breaking lucifer out of hell and the apocalypse that followed, which is why i like to think sam worked so hard to reign in his anger afterward - both to avoid his fate and avoid becoming his father.

in short: i don’t think sam has actually forgiven john so much as disengaged from him and moved past it. because if he DID engage with it, it’d bring up a whole lot of stuff he didn’t feel prepared to deal with. one of the risks of gray rocking things is doing it to the point that you lose touch with your own wants and needs and personality, so i think by late seasons sam’s repression, which is much more sneaky and quiet than dean’s, has settled in to the point where he’s like “yeah whatever” about dad out of sheer self preservation - because otherwise, he’d end up going crazy about it like dean does. i think it’d do him a hell of a lot of good to be able to get to shout at john and finally say his piece/ he’s really afraid of his own anger, but i think it’d be healthy for him to get back in touch with some of it.

[spn masterpost]

[incorrectsmashbrosquotes]

Lucas' Persona Awakening

It was supposed to be a typically normal day in the Smash Bros Mansion. Nothing too bad or anything. Just a simple picnic between Smashers and Assist Trophies to pass the time on a normal afternoon.

However, that was until…he…showed up. Porky, the cause of most, if not all of Lucas’  problems, decided to show his face once again. And this time, he didn’t come alone. He had brought the Pigmask Army and Masked Man along with him.

Mario: Everyone, be careful!

Link: Damn, there’s too many of them!

Due to the sudden attack and sheer numbers of soldiers at Porky’s disposal, the Smashers were left unprepared and were soon overtaken. They were soon all held down by the Pigmask soldiers while Porky sat confidently in his spider mech.

Porky: Heh! This is Smash Bros? They should rename it Porky Bros due to how strong I am!

Ness: Shut up, Porky! You just have an insane amount of people that snuck attack us.

Porky: Aw, Ness. It hurts when you talk to me like that. (He goes over and pats his head) Aren’t we super best friends?

Ness: No. Literally, we weren’t even slightly friends.

Porky, sighs: Well, whatever. Not like you can do anything to stop me.

Masked Man is staring at Lucas, who was being pinned down with more Pigmasks than everyone else.

Lucas: Gah!

Masked Man: …..

Porky: What is it, Right Hand Masked Man? (Looks over and sees Lucas) Oh, it’s him! He’s the one who tried to foil my plans before! Isn’t this lovely? Not that I remember this runt named Lucas, but still.

Lucas: Let my brother go, you monster!

Porky: What? Your brother? Now, there’s two things wrong with that sentence. A. He’s my secretary/lieutenant. B. If it wasn’t for me, he’d be a bloody corpse in the middle of some forest or something. Wherever my men saw his sorry sack. I made him way cooler.

Lucas: HE DIED BECAUSE OF SOMETHING YOU CREATED, YOU ASS!

Porky: Woah! Language. Didn’t your mother ever tell you-

Lucas, practically growling: Finish that line, and you’re gonna pray it was me who was killed by the Mecha Drago.

Porky: Mecha…wait…waaaaaait, you’re from Tazmily, right? Oh, I get it! Well, I know it’s a bit late, but how about I give you a little gift as consolation?

Lucas: What?

Porky snapped his fingers, and about twenty Mecha Dragos burst into the mansion. Lucas froze, a horrifying memory coming back.

Porky, smiling evily: That’s right! These things were such a huge part of your life, practically being a turning point for it. So why not have a little reunion with the ones who changed your life? Of course, I had to clone it after your hillbilly father killed the original. But why stop at one, am I right?

Ness: You jerk! Leave Lucas alone!

Ashley: You fiend…If you so much as harm a hair on his head…!

Porky, looking at Ness with a frown: ….Ness, you’ve made so many new friends. I thought I was gonna be your best friend forever. But you went and replaced me.

Ness: We were never friends.

Porky: You shut your mouth! Anyway, I decided to come to a choice. We’ll have a whole buffet of nostalgia!

Porky snaps once again. All of the Pigmasks move the Smashers up to their feet.

Porky: Lucas can get a flashback of him losing his loved ones due to the Mecha Dragos, and I’ll get a sick kick out of it!

Lucas: W-What?!

Yoshi: Don’t worry. They’re basically mechanical Yoshi’s. I can communicate with them.

Yoshi tried, but was immediately smacked by a Mecha Drago.

Yoshi: Okay…it didn’t work…

The Mecha Drago’s took a step towards everyone, who were all still restrained by the Pigmasks. Lucas’ breathing began to speed up. It was all happening again…and like before, he’d be unable to do anything about it. Was he going to lose more people?

Lucas: Porky, stop!

Porky: Heheheh, why? You can’t stop fate. I’m going to rule the world and rename Smash Bros into Porky Bros, and you…

Porky smiles and looks at Masked Man.

Porky: Hey, Secretary/Lieutenant. You wanna do the honors and kill this kid?

Masked Man simply looked at Lucas with a blank stare. There was no emotion. Just a cold, lifeless stare. But instead of an answer, he threw a capsule which summoned an Ultimate Chimera.

Porky: Ohoho! An Ultimate Chimera, I love it! A bite from them can crush metal! And considering Lucas is all flesh and bones….hopefully I’ll have enough to make something of it. So look on the bright side, Lucas! You might get to work with your dear brother after all! That, or you’ll end up like your mom. Hehehehe….Hahahahahahahahahahahahahahaha!!!

Ness: Lucas!

Ashley: Unhand me! Lucas!

Toon Link: Those things are an instadeath!

Lucas wasn’t concerned about the Ultimate Chimera slowly approaching him, even if getting bitten was certain and VERY painful death. He was more concerned about the Mecha Dragos. Once again, the people he loved, his newfound family in Smash was going to be killed by the same monster that took away and ruined his family and childhood. Was that his fate? Death all around him and losing everyone he cares about.

???: What’s wrong? Are you truly going to let history repeat itself? Are they not your dear friends?

Lucas paused. Was…was that a voice?

???: Failure to act will result in their death. Are you truly able to let people as simply as that? Are you not tired of constantly losing others? Do you not want to end this cruel cycle of death?

Lucas, under his breath: I…I am….

???: …Hm. I can understand your resolve based on your emotions. Very well.

Ba-dump.

The whole world seemed to go into slow motion as sharp pain rang throughout his whole body, more prominent in his head. No…it was if time itself stopped. A currently blue flame in the shape of a body appeared before Lucas.

???: I am thou…thou art I….Thou who art willing to do battle against the cruel fortune of death for thine happiness! Call upon my name, and bask in your rebirth, my dear friend!

???: Show no mercy to all who dare harm your loved ones, and exact vengeance on those who have taken what cannot be reclaimed!

Lucas slowly looks up at the Ultimate Chimera, who was inches away from him and was seconds away from chomping him. Time began to move back to normal.

Porky: Now, all of you die! Die for my ascension!

In an instant, the Ultimate Chimera was flung across the other side of the room, and the Pigmasks that were restraining Lucas were blown back by a mysterious force. Everyone looked back at him in surprise.

A blue glow slowly emanated from the ground, growing in color and brightness before growing into a circular flame, spinning around Lucas more and more.

Lucas: Hey, Porky….I’ll be your friend…

In his words, there was no kindness, nor rage. It was a quiet calm, but a very offsetting one at that.

Lucas: But before I do officially become your friend…I need you to do one thing for me…

Porky: W-What the…?

Lucas looked up at Porky, his eyes glowing a piercing yellow. The azure flames that had circled him had now over taken his entire body

Lucas: Please….Could you…the Mecha Dragos, and the rest of the Pigmasks… die for me?

The flames burst away, and on Lucas’ face was a mask. It appeared to be white, dragon shaped mask with some red outlines and a Dragon Needle in the middle. Lucas had a wide smile on his face, and his eyes were bloodshot.

It was safe to assume Lucas had handled the Mecha Drago and the rest of Porky’s army. Porky had to retreat, of course. Lucas fainted immediately afterwards. He couldn’t quite remember what his Persona looked like though, but it definitely wouldn’t be the last time he had an encounter with it.

….

………

I am thou, thou art I…. Thou hath acquired a new vow….

It shall become the wings of rebellion that breaketh thy chains of captivity.

With the birth of the Death Persona, I obtained the winds of blessing that  shall lead to freedom and new power….

[iliumheightnights]

We have a jedi [22] | Peter Parker x Male Reader

Fandom: Marvel, Star Wars

Pairings: Peter Parker x male reader, Tony Stark x son reader

Summary: Thanos was successful in using the infinity stones, yet here M/n is. Now it’s time to see what remains and pick up the pieces.

First Chapter | Previous Chapter | Next Chapter

…..

And I...am Ironman.

When (M/n) opened his eyes, he opened them to the stars.

For a long time, (M/n) laid on his back staring up at the endlessness of space. The stars gave him comfort as his mind was still swirling. What happened? Where was he? Then it all came rushing back to him. Mandalore, Kren, Thanos, ashes....Peter.

Sitting up he expected to see the rest of Mandalore around him, or at least A planet. But to his surprise he only saw more space. Space and the familiar white markings that he had seen before. The world between worlds.

The force is a conduit. Made up of all living things.

He could hear voices of many people surrounding him. Some he recognized, others he didn’t. Some were things he had heard, others not. He wondered if these were his memories...or things yet to be said.

“(M/n)?”

That voice wasn’t like the others. That one sounded...closer. Much closer. It was also a voice he recognized but was different. Turning his head, he saw a young Mirialan woman. While she might have grown a bit (M/N) would recognize his friend anywhere.

“Sheyo?  You look-”

“Oh don’t you give me that crap (M/n), I don’t need you calling me old now.” She laughed and helped get him off the ground. “I can’t believe you’re actually here.”

“Why? And why are you-”

“Old? Well that’s what happens when you grow up.”

“But-”

“(M/n), you’ve been gone for seven years.”

He stopped any sort of questioning. Just taking in and absorbing the knowledge of what he had just learned. “Seven years? But- how? I was just fighting on Mandalore and-” He shook his head as a voice spoke around them. It didn’t come from Sheyo.

We are all one.

The Force. Looking around (M/n) took another look at where he was. The world between worlds, that’s how he missed seven years. The world between worlds was outside of time and space, and Sheyo had just pulled him from what most certainly would have been his death.

“Come on. We should go. I have a feeling that someone or something else is trying to get here. The longer we stay the easier it is for whatever.”

The sound of thunder boomed in the distance shaking both of them. Who knew what was coming but neither wanted to stick around to find out. (M/n) followed Sheyo, for she looked like she knew where she was going.

“So seven years...what have I missed?”

Sheyo snorted. “A lot. Half the universe...just gone. The people call it the decimation, the avengers call it the snap. Afterwards people tried to pick up the pieces...the Republic and Empire, at least what remained, blamed each other of course and kicked up the war. The sith ended up fighting each other and pretty much killed each other. The jedi...the jedi are pretty much gone now.”

(M/n) could feel the sadness in her voice and in her heart. Even he couldn’t help but feel sad. He grew up amongst the jedi and now it was just gone? How did things change so much?

“What about my mom and dad? Are they okay?” He asked her. She stopped and turned to him.

“Tony’s alright. He tried to stop Thanos before but...couldn’t.” Then she averted her eyes. “Master Janai is gone. One of the jedi taken, I’m sorry (M/n).”

(M/n) felt his heart fall a bit. Sure he and his mother had a bit of a rocky patch there...but it was nothing that shook his love for her. Now she was gone. But...but his dad was still alive. He would get back to him. Then (M/n) ran his hand across his sash realizing something.

“Peter. What about Peter Parker? You remember him right Sheyo? What happened to him?” He already knew the answer, he just didn’t want to admit it. Perhaps he was wrong, perhaps Peter was alive.

But the look in Sheyo’s eyes broke that hope. “I’m sorry (M/n).

(M/N) quickly wiped his eyes of the tears. “Its...we can’t stay. Let’s keep going.” The sound of thunder could be heard again and soon lighting seemed to strike. “Now.”

Sheyo and him took off running. Both could feel they were overstaying their welcome. The thunder and lightning continued to grow rapidly.

I am eternal.

Whose voice was that? (M/n) had never heard that before. It was cold, it was dark, it was sinister.

It was hatred incarnate.

“Hurry! This one!”

Sheyo ran towards a portal that...seemed to have his dad’s arc reactor on it. She jumped through and (M/n) followed her. When he landed on his feet, he could feel that he was no longer in the world between worlds. Looking up he knew exactly where he was...the Jedi temple back on earth. The one he had found T3.

However (M/n) felt...terrible. It was like there was a large void in the force. He grabbed his stomach feeling like at any moment it would fall out. Sheyo must have taken notice for she quickly put a hand on his shoulder. “I’m sorry I should have warned you.” He waved her off. “I just...need to adjust.”

She nodded and took her hand away from him. “Yeah...yeah okay. Just remember you’ll be okay.”

While Sheyo was a comfortable and familiar presence, there was something else that was familiar and brought him joy. Bwoo? T3. Looking up he saw the little droid wheel towards him. As the droid caught sight of him, it danced in its place. Bwwweeeepp! 

“T3!” With a smile, (M/n) could feel his energy pouring back into him as he ran to his old companion. “Oh buddy. Sorry I’ve been gone for so long.”

Bwoop Bweep?

“No I didn’t die. It’s...a long story.”

Bwoop.

(M/n) turned and saw Sheyo staring at the mural. The same mural he had been attached to the first time he came.

“The father, son and daughter. The ones.” He said on relex. He had learned more about them during his time in the jedi temple but not much was known about them.

Sheyo smirked. “Good you remember. This mural is one of the portals to the world between worlds.” She brought her hand up and focused, soon the mural illuminated and moved. Then the light died down and the children had become submissive to the father. “There. It’s closed now. No one will be able to come through without having to reopen it.”

Sheyo wiped her hand and gestured for him and T3 to follow her. As they were walking through the temple, (M/n) couldn’t help but think of the first time he was there with the avengers. Who was left? His father was alive, but Peter wasn’t. Who else of his family had been taken from him?

Exiting the front entrance to the temple he saw a republic shuttle. (M/n) also noticed how the world seemed...sad. The sky was grey and the temperature was cold. This was a world in mourning...in mourning for seven years. T3 beeped and rolled up the ramp of the shuttle, Sheyo stopped at the ramp and turned back to him.

“Are you ready? Ready to go home?” She said with a smile.

Home. He was going home. Or whatever was left of it anyways.

“Without a doubt.”

The shuttle ride was...quiet to say the least. When the shuttle flew over New York City, (M/n) couldn’t help but see and feel just how different life was now. Before when he was in New York, it was beautiful. It was colorful and filled with life. Now as they flew over, it was dark and grey, cold and empty

“It’s so...depressing.”

Sheyo nodded. “It’s so strange. Here the largest city looks empty, but on coruscant it’s almost like nothing happened. I guess...the galaxy moves on.”

“It shouldn’t have to.”

It took a bit longer but eventually the shuttle left New York City and entered the forests of the state. (M/N) noticed how it was a stark contrast to how it was like in the city, the forests were still living, breathing, regrowing. Eventually Sheyo sat down the shuttle.

“T3 and I will stay here. This should be your time.”

(M/n) nodded and walked down the ramp. Leaving the shuttle, he saw the forests around him but noticed how there was a house not far from him. Walking towards the house, he saw how it was by a large lake and the force seemed to be swirling around this place.

The door of the house opened and (M/n) watched as his dad walked out holding a platter of sandwiches carrying them to a table. “Lunch!” He stopped walking to take in the sight, there he was, his dad. Tony hadn’t seemed to have changed much except now his hair had a bit of grey in it and his eyes held a bit of sadness in them.

The door opened again and (M/n) almost lost his breath at the sight. There was Steve, not in his cap suit but in regular civilian clothing holding a boy in his arms. He didn’t even need to ask any questions to know what happened with them. It was obvious they finally got together...and had a kid now.

As the three of them went to have their lunch, the boy caught sight of (M/n).

“Daddy who’s that?”

Tony and Steve both followed where the boy’s finger was pointing, directly at him.

Tony’s eyes met his and in that moment, that’s what made (M/n) realize, he had been gone for seven years. Tony slowly left the porch and began walking to him before stopping as if he was seeing a ghost. In a way he was.

“H-hi dad.”

Tony’s eyes filled with tears and he quickly pulled his son in for a hug. (M/n) held onto him just as tight. It hadn’t been long for (M/n) but touching his dad and smelling his cologne was a welcome feeling to him.

“W-how?”

“It’s a long story. Hope you don’t mind me staying a bit.”

Tony chuckled and shook his head. “No. Please, I don’t want you to ever leave again.”

“I’m not going anywhere.”

...

A/N: How you guys doing? Hope y’all are loving it so far. It took me a bit to get this one out but hopefully it was worth it. We’re about to go into major AU territory now.

[needcake]

day 4: cardverse

Arthur/Teo, PG-15 (for some violence), 2k.

@engportevents

Three times the Queen of Spades almost caught the Diamond Bandit, and one time he did (sort of)

.

.

.

There had been talk – rumors – of a band of bandits roaming the borders between the four kingdoms for months. Their usual targets were trains loaded with gold and silver and the occasional rich traveler going from one kingdom to the other.

Arthur, currently, was the latter.

“Can’t you make the horses go faster?!” he shouted at the conductor who yelled back something he didn’t quite catch over the noise of the fighting in the carriages behind them where the rest of his security detail was being held back instead of doing their job of protecting him!

He shut the small partition between him and the conductor with a violent shove and noticed the inside of the cabin now smelled of lavender.

When he turned back on his seat, the Diamond Bandit was smiling at him, sitting with far too familiarity with his arms spread open over the back of the cushions and his legs crossed.

“My, so you’re the next Queen of Spades?”

Arthur breathed deeply. His powers had not fully developed yet and the masked man he had seen in the wanted posters all over the towns in the Diamonds Kingdom was very much not a rumor.

“What of it?” he asked, trying to buy himself some time while summoning enough energy in his hand to blast the damn smile off the man’s face.

The bandit shrugged, that idiot smile still plastered on his partially covered face.

“Does your future husband know?” he asked and Arthur could feel the small ball of pure energy in his hand growing even smaller and denser. It needed to be as small as the head of a pin before he could cast it and cause any real damage.

“Know what?” He needed more time, just a little more time and concentration.

The bandit leaped onto his lap and pressed a dagger to his throat. His smile turned wicked. “That you’re no longer a virgin,” he whispered in his ear and Arthur’s concentration evaporated, the energy in his hand expanding until it blew up like a firecracker and blinding white smoke filled the cabin.

The pressure of another body over his was gone. Along with his engagement ring.

When the smoke cleared, the conductor announced the bandits had retreated and they were safe now. Arthur nodded and pressed a hand to his chest. How had he known…?

-

Next he saw him was during a ball in the Clubs Kingdom to celebrate the Queen’s birthday. Clubs was a Northern kingdom with a long and proud tradition of horseback fighting and hunting, and Arthur was trying very hard not to look directly at the animals’ heads hung on the walls around the room.

The music changed and his dancing partner – an older gentleman and high-ranking noble, probably belonging to the House of 8 – was shoved out of the way to make room for a younger and more vigorous partner who strode across the ballroom with Arthur in his arms, barely giving him time to keep up.

“Watch it!” he scolded when his feet almost stepped over his.

“Are you going to throw another feeble spark at me?” the man laughed and Arthur only had time to catch a glimpse of pale green eyes and a dark mole beneath the right eye before the entire room went dark and a myriad of gasps and faint exclamations of fright and surprise replaced the music.

“It’s you!” Arthur hissed and felt strong hands hold him tighter against a firm chest.

“Does anyone in this room know, dear Queen?” the bandit asked in a whisper and Arthur felt his entire body shiver with the proximity and the smell of lavender. “Have you told anyone that you used to be just another one of the butcher’s kids until you began manifesting the powers of a Queen?”

Arthur’s anger grew white and hot and powerful, and when he shoved him away and flicked his wrists the entire room exploded in searing light.

He had to blink several times before the room had regained color again, the servants hurrying to light the candles again. Nobles and monarchs were looking at each other with surprise and astonishment. A lady clutched at her neck only to find it bare.

Her scream pierced through the night, followed by many others like hers.

-

The situation had to be dealt with. The Diamond Bandit could not just steal from under their noses and be allowed to go unpunished. After what happened in the ball, the King of Clubs raised the reward on the Bandit’s head and the Queen of Hearts volunteered to bring the man and the rest of his band to justice.

Arthur approached Kiku afterwards and asked to be a part of the task force. Kiku only looked him over once before acquiescing silently.

It took them a month to gather the information that led them to the humble stone house where the bandits were hiding deep in the Diamond countryside near the border with Spades. Kiku and his men went after the larger group while Arthur was left alone to chase their leader into the forest.

He aimed a single arrow at him when he had him in his sight and the Diamond Bandit fell to the forest ground, clutching at his shoulder and crying out in pain.

Arthur approached him slowly and balled up magical energy in his hand. He had trained for this moment. He was now so much better at it than when they first met.

The bandit smiled through the pain, writhing on the ground beneath him. His mask was slipping; the shape of his nose oddly familiar.

“Is your mother still the best seamstress in Spades?” he asked, grinding his teeth as blood flowed down between his fingers. “Does she still bake the most awful scones?”

Arthur stepped on his hand and he screamed. The ball of energy in his palm shrunk to an impossible miniature size, no bigger than an ant, more lethal than any weapon.

“How do you know that?” he hissed.

Green eyes looked up at him. “Have you forgotten about her too?”

Kiku’s horse distracted him as it rode with its master into the space they were in, and when Arthur looked back at him there was only a small pool of blood seeping into the earth in his place. Kiku dismounted and came closer, inspecting the blood.

“He has some sort of magic,” Arthur tried to explain even if he himself didn’t entirely understand. “He disappears.”

“Not disappear,” Kiku corrected him lightly. “He changes. A tanuki.”

He pointed at a small trail of blood, droplets that went further into the forest. Arthur looked at his friend. “Only Diamond high nobility can shape shift.”

Kiku nodded. “You should pay Francis a visit.”

-

It was not hard to convince his husband to send a letter to the King of Diamonds. It was hard, however, to sit at his table and pretend to enjoy the dinner when all he wanted to do was to strangle Francis’ neck between his hands.

“I see you have a new Jack,” Alfred said politely, raising his glass at the man on the other side of the long table and Basch raised his own politely in return. “What happened to the last one?” he asked Francis beside him.

“He died,” Arthur supplied in a dry tone and Alfred looked between him and Francis, noticing Arthur’s glare and Francis’ cold demeanor.

“His ship sank during the war,” Francis said and took a sip of his wine. “What kind of a Jack would he be if he hadn’t been willing to sacrifice himself for King and country?”

Arthur got up. His hands shook beside him with uncontrolled energy that seeped light between his clenched fingers. He stormed out of the dinning hall before he lost control. He left and did not come back, forgoing what he had come all this way for.

“Did you know the guy that died in the war?” Alfred asked him late that night after Arthur had forced them to pack up their things and take their carriage back to their kingdom.

“I did,” he said, staring out at the dark through the carriage window. “He was my best friend.”

-

Arthur woke up with a draft coming into his room through the open windows.

“You’re not too heavily guarded for a Queen,” the Diamond Bandit said, smiling at him under the moonlight.

He sat up on the bed and clutched the sheets to his chest. “What do you want from me?”

The man took a step forward in his direction and froze on the spot. A circle of light with intricate runes glowed beneath his feet.

“I see you’ve gotten better at magic.”

Arthur threw the sheets aside to reveal himself fully clothed and stood in front of him. He could already hear the guards coming closer, alerted by his spell. “Who are you?”

“Do you still remember when we first kissed?” he asked, still smiling despite having been caught. “Behind the house while my mother tried on dresses in your living room?”

The guards came into the room and took him away. Arthur prided himself for not collapsing to the ground until he heard their steps on the far end of the corridor. It was where Alfred found him minutes later, when he held him until he stopped crying, not understanding why since they were safe now. The bad guy had been caught.

-

The rest of the group had been hanged in the early hours in a secluded location as not to distract the people from the main event. Only the Diamond Bandit was to be given a public execution under the eyes of the four monarchs and the people gathered at the central square in the Spades capital.

Arthur had to give out a few golden coins, but he did manage to have the room alone with the Bandit before they took him to the gallows. Teo had his head down, his shirt had been removed along with his mask and his long hair hung over his shoulders, barely concealing the fresh bruises and cuts the guards had given him since he had been brought to their care.

“Did your companions know that you cheat at cards and that you once spilled black tea on your mother’s new dress and blamed your little brother?” he asked and Teo laughed, coughed, spat out blood. Arthur came closer to the bars separating them. “How did you survive?”

“The sea didn’t want me,” he said, his shoulders rising and falling as he spoke. “I floated to the surface with the debris and the enemy ship rescued me.”

“Francis would have paid the ransom.”

Teo laughed again, wet and raspy. “They tried that.” He looked up at him, green eyes almost swollen shut and Arthur felt his chin tremble at the sight of his mangled face. “He said he didn’t negotiate with barbarians.”

He curled his hands around the bars, pressed his face between them. “Then why? Why come back?”

Teo smiled. “You know why.”

-

Arthur sat beside his King and they watched as the Diamond Bandit was brought out. The crowd watched in silence. No cheering, no murmurs.

They put a sack over his head and a noose around his neck.

When the trap door opened, Arthur shut his eyes and flicked his wrist. Something small, smaller than a grain of sand, shot out from his palm.

The crowd gasped, someone screamed. When he looked again, the Bandit had disappeared.

-

Arthur came into his room followed by a chambermaid who was frantically trying to undress him while he gave her no attention and went on talking to his secretary about the seating arrangements for the banquet next week. The other kingdoms’ delegations should be arriving soon and their rooms and accommodations had to be prepared ahead of time, there was no time to waste.

He stopped when he noticed the open window over his desk.

On top of his books, there was a single stalk of lavender.

He smiled.

.

[belovasangel]

Kintsugi

Pairing: Peter Parker x Stark!GN!Reader

WC: 1641

Summary: Peter needs a push to help an old ally.

Warnings: Swearing, ANGST, hopeful ending

A/N: First off, thank you for reading this. I haven’t written in maybe a year so this might be not the best. I want to shout out Polaroid15 for inspiring me to write. Something else in this fic I should mention, Peter’s identity isn’t exposed and in the Blip he aged according to current-time (so in this he is 18-19)

“In Japanese culture, Kintsugi is the reformative art to repair broken pottery. The shattered pieces are taken and glued back together with a binding agency and gold paint. There is a metaphor between each crack and gold stroke, as the meaning is deeper than restoring a pot. It’s meant to give hope and to empower those who are deemed ‘broken.’ The point is to tell people to embrace their insecurities and you will be okay in the end.”

Peter Parker rolled his eyes and looked back at his notes. The background film of his art history course droned on, as the school stuck the Blipped students into a course to graduate faster. He began to doodle along the sides of the pages, drawing the Spider-Man suit and a few webs. He thought of Ned, sitting on his MIT campus, working on his computer engineering software, and hoped he was thinking of Peter as well. Him and Ned made a pact back in freshman year to attend MIT together and when the Blip hit, Ned kept his promise. And at this rate, Peter will be in their dorm room by March. 

He looked back up at the lecture briefly to watch the credits roll, only to notice afterwards the teacher had fallen asleep at the desk. The other students got the same idea to pack up and leave for the weekend early. Peter began stuffing his notes in his backpack and stood to walk out, only to bump into a fast body.

“Hey-” 

Peter looked up, his backpack falling to the floor in a heavy heap. He looked up angrily, fully expecting Flash to be staring back, however he saw the red-faced (Y/N) staring back with doe eyes. “Peter, I am so sorry...” 

He huffed and shoved (Y/N) back with his shoulder to grab his stuff. “You can leave, ya know? Don’t need to watch me pick up the mess you made.” He audibly heard them gulp and quicken their breathing. With a quick shuffle, they walked out of the class. Peter stood quickly and recalled the events leading to their icy encounter. He can feel sympathetic towards them, as Mr. Stark passed away tragically about a year ago. While Peter has come to terms painfully with his death, he can tell (Y/N) still is struggling. He knows they had a plan to attend Yale or Stanford after this, but those plans have derailed fully. Peter knew (Y/N) wasn’t fully ready to accept they need to grow up and move on. He wouldn’t be the one to put gasoline on an already erupting fire. Hopefully Pepper can say something

He began walking down the halls of the school, remembering the small memories along the halls. Lifting the lockers during Homecoming to get his suit, him and Ned discussing the plans to build the Death Star, and even when MJ first opened her locker next to the two (and immediately asked, “what are you two losers looking at?”). Fond, fond memories. 

Peter hopped on the subway, getting minorly excited to begin patrolling the city. May has plans tonight, he hopes it’s a date so he can spy once or twice, but overall it’s sitting on buildings and eating those amazing subs. The moment Peter stepped into the apartment, May was on him. “Hey, my beautiful boy genius, how was school?”

He laughed as she kissed and pinched his cheeks. “Hey May. It was fine, boring. How are you, need any date prep?” She turned bright red and looked back to the newspaper. “Peter, I told you it’s not a date. Happy and I are-”

“Your date is with Happy?” Peter popped his backpack to the floor with a quick thump. May gave a sheepish look, fully expecting this from him. “Peter I promise you, Happy is super kind and is going to treat me great tonight.”

He sighed, pulling at his hair minorly. “Do I need to chaperone you?” She laughed and shook her head, “we’ll be fine Pete. Anyways, to change the subject, Pepper called you earlier and asked for you to swing by the Tower when you get a chance.” Peter nodded, head still foggy with holy fuck, Happy is going to get with my Aunt.

He gave her a quick kiss on the forehead and ran to his room, changing into his suit and flopping out the window. Within the first few hours, Peter stopped three guys from breaking into cars, saved a cat from a tree and rescued an old lady from oncoming traffic. As the sun was setting, and Peter got to enjoy the sunset with his sub, he decided to call Pepper.

“Hey Pep, what’s going on?”

He could hear her sigh on the other side, and he took a bite in anticipation. “I need your help Peter. And I know you won’t like it.” With a mouthful of spinach, salami and bread, he said muffled, “you can count on me.”

“I need you to help (Y/N).” Peter promptly spit his sub out of his mouth with a sharp cough and inhale. “What? What’s wrong?” Pepper sighed again. “(Y/N) isn’t okay. They’re only leaving their room for school and that’s it. I deliver them breakfast and dinner, we barely talk between the doors. Plus they come home late every night and I need to know what’s going on.”

Peter bit his inner cheek. Of course (Y/N) is being selfish towards Pepper, seems about right. Peter felt like this was a sign, to finally see what’s going on and help Pepper reconnect with her kid. Yet, Peter didn’t want to give (Y/N) any slack. They’re being rude and not grateful for what they have. “Of course, Pepper. I’ll keep you posted. Does K.A.R.E.N. have her location?”

“No, she turned off her location a while ago. Thank you Peter.” He nodded, knowing she couldn’t see. With a quick end, he threw the mask on and dove off the crane. He searched every alley in all of Queens, ever corner store, checked every rooftop and park and bridge and under every car. He found a huge ass tree and even climbed it. Peter didn’t want to let Pepper down, even if he felt more and more annoyed with (Y/N). He knew they wouldn’t leave the city, but this was getting ridiculous. Eventually, around 11:30 P.M., he found them sitting in front of a large mural of Tony. There were flowers along the painting, along with lit candles and teddy bears. Peter felt his blood boiling, knowing they could have had their location on this whole time. 

“What the fuck are you doing (Y/N)? Pepper is besides herself worried. You’re being so fucking selfish, leaving her alone every damn night. She is suffering, wondering why her own child won’t talk to her while you’re out here hiding! What are you scared of? Why can’t you grow up? He died! Get over it!”

Peter creeped up closer and closer to them, not listening to the sniffling and heaving breaths of (Y/N). As he reached them, he saw they were hunched over and panting. “What’s wrong? Get up,” Peter sneered as he pulled their shoulder back. He let out a gasp and let go, in complete shock of what he saw. Their face was littered with bruises and cuts. Their right eye was completely swollen and the under eye bags were as dark as the sky. “Are you okay?”

They scoffed and pushed away Peter’s hand, and struggled to get off the ground. Many groans and gasps were shed as they stood slouched. Peter quickly noticed the large gash on their side, and he could tell they were severely injured. “We need to get you to the tower right now, c’mon.” 

As he got closer, (Y/N) stumbled back to avoid his touch. Peter scoffed and tried to reach again, but with the same result. “Stop being stupid and let me help you.” They stopped and let out a large laugh. “Now you fucking care about me, when it will make you look good. I can just imagine Pepper telling me how great and caring you are, and how brave you were to go searching for their lost child. Fuck off with this savior complex, Peter, you can’t save everyone! Some people were meant to suffer and burn and fucking die in the end.”

Peter had never felt so confused in his life. He tried reaching out for the third time and was shut down. They began to walk towards him, fire and tears in their eyes. “Do you have any idea how much fucking pain I feel every day? When my father died, Pepper and I were so shattered, but instead of staying with family she decided to work with you, the great and friendly Spider-Man! Why help your own kin when the prodigy is doing just as bad? I am so sick of living in your shadow Peter! It’s like the universe is telling me I was a mistake! You ruined my life. You are the reason my father is dead. You are the reason I wish it was me instead!”

They fell to their knees in agony, letting out screaming sobs and pained sounds. He quickly recovered, wiping his own tears to comfort them. “I am so sorry (Y/N), I am so so sorry.” Peter put his hands under their arms and lifted them into his arms, as fast as he could go to avoid another lash out. He began to swing them back, and in a quiet voice, (Y/N) whispered into his neck. “Why wasn’t it me, Peter?”

And in that moment, Peter realized that some people need help being put back together. Maybe Kintsugi isn’t so dumb after all.

[erekiosuncreativeideas]

Being Human - Chapter 01

Summary : "It was too much for Snatcher. He had no idea what was happening, what was going on around him. He felt something pounding inside him, fast, with a panicked rhythm. His horror came back at full force when he understood what it was.

This was his heart, beating inside his chest, defying every possible logical explanation. The ghost had come back to life."

Snatcher breaks a Time Piece and has to face the consequences.

Also available on AO3 : https://archiveofourown.org/works/24826561/chapters/60051049

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New fanfiction ! I wanted to try something completely new and... Here it is ! I hope you'll like it ! Don't hesitate to tell me if you liked this first chapter ! I have two more finished, but I want to try to keep a few in advance !

The "Oh The Humanity" AU belongs to @doodledrawsthings​ ! (AMAZING AU !!!)

Happy reading !

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Chapter 01 - “What did you do to me?” 

Becoming a human again was certainly something Snatcher would have never expected. If he had to be completely honest, if someone had told him it would happen to him, he would have probably laughed in their face… And would have eaten their soul afterwards. However, his afterlife had been nothing but a mess since the moment those brats had come into his life. Fallen from the sky, just like their magical hourglasses, those kids had made his life pure hell. Just like his usual victims, the spirit had forced them to sign his contracts, giving up their souls to him. At first, everything was going well, except for most of their pestering… But then, when the time had come to kill them, the ghost had made a huge mistake.

He had forgotten how truly magical those Time Pieces were. When the kids had defeated him, crushing his pride as he was forced to hand over his last time artefact… The shade had thrown it to them mindlessly, just thinking about how he wanted them to leave him alone. However, what he didn’t expect was to hear the sound of breaking glass as the item hit the ground. The kids’ face crumpled as the noise echoed all around them and, soon, a white flash blinded the trio. An overwhelming sound resonated in Snatcher’s mind, like a ringing noise becoming louder and louder. His ghostly form was suddenly submerged by a lot of unknown sensations as it started to distort itself. It was weird, it was unpleasant and it was painful. A scream left his mouth as he felt his spectral body changing on its own, making him suffer greatly. It felt so much different than the pain he had experienced while fighting the two children… And yet, somehow, it all felt terribly familiar.

The shade’s body hit the ground, falling after he had stopped floating in the air for some reason. His mind was full of static noise and he barely registered the pain because of it. He couldn’t help but curl up and tremble while he was drowning under so many new sensations. He was probably pathetic, yet the spirit didn’t care. This was absolute torture, it was too much, too much!

His hands grabbed his head, trying to cover his ears as a desperate attempt at blocking the ringing noise. But then, the ghost froze completely. His… Ears? The thought made his entire body grow cold, but it was nothing compared to the realization that his fingers didn’t meet his spectral form.

Instead, they met soft and curly hair.

The shock was enough to bring Snatcher back to reality. He opened his eyes despite the pain attacking his brain and nothing, absolutely nothing could have prepared him for what he had to see. He was lying on the ground, shaking like a leaf. He brought back his hands to examine them and oh- those weren’t his hands. An expression of complete horror appeared on his face as he observed the meaty hands in front of him. When he bent each one of the fingers, his terror intensified: he was controlling them. They were connected to arms, meaty arms, which were both connected to him as well. His entire body had nothing to do with his ghostly form anymore. His tail had disappeared, replaced by two legs he couldn’t control very well.

Oh God, no, no, no, this couldn’t be happening. A cry left his mouth and, soon, a burning sensation erupted inside of his chest. Panic settled over him as he grasped at his sides, not knowing what could possibly hurt him so much. He felt like he was dying, again, it hurt, it hurt so much, oh God…!

He suddenly felt two small hands grab his shoulders -ah, what a funny thing to have in the afterlife!-, shaking him back and forth, as a voice forced him to focus on the present. He barely heard his name and other words he had trouble to understand.

-“Breathe!” the voice said, but Snatcher didn’t hear it right the first time. All he knew was that it hurt, it burnt, it was compressing his chest so, so much. The shaking became stronger, faster, and soon, the ghost’s attention turned to the person who was ordering him to breathe. His eyes widened when he saw the hatted brat, crying as she was holding him. Behind her, the shade could see her best friend, looking panicked. When the spirit’s eyes met hers, she quickly joined her hatted friend and, soon, the ghost felt her hands taking his.

The contact was so strange, so soft, so warm…!

-“Snatcher!” screamed the other little girl as she shook him even more: “Open your pecking mouth and breathe!”

The pain was unbearable but, somehow, he finally managed to understand what she was trying to tell him and, not thinking anymore, he just opened his mouth. Survival instincts he thought he didn’t have anymore took over, pushing his rational mind on the side as air filled his lungs. It was weird, it felt strange, it felt so unnatural, and yet… It eased the pain in his chest. The ghost’s stare was lost into space as he felt his body acting on its own, trying to survive.

It was too much for Snatcher. He had no idea what was happening, what was going on around him. He felt something pounding inside him, fast, with a panicked rhythm. His horror came back at full force when he understood what it was.

This was his heart, beating inside his chest, defying every possible logical explanation.

The ghost had come back to life.

Snatcher’s panic was at its highest when the realization hit him hard, like a violent wave knocking him down: he was alive. The thought seemed so absurd, so stupid! How could he be alive when he knew very well he had died hundreds of years ago? He was there, he could testify! And yet, here he was, rocking back and forth as he kept breathing, with a chaotic rhythm.

Everything was just so unbearable. The contact of the clothes against his skin, the feeling of the air caressing his face, the touch of the kids on his body, the feeling of the air passing inside his throat as he filled his lungs, the smells of the forest… He could feel his heart pounding in his chest repeatedly, loud and hard, the pulsations spreading everywhere in his body, but mostly his temples. It hurt so much. The ghost felt like someone was hitting the sides of his brain with a bat, again and again and again… Each sound he was hearing intensified his suffering and, soon, he had to close his eyes, unable to bear any more sensations. The gesture was so foreign to him and was mostly done on instinct. Knowing he had eyelids again… This seemed like a detail and yet it was not. As a ghost, when he closed his eyes, it was just black, pure darkness. Now… He could see the light passing through the thin skin of his eyelids.

He was still seeing something. It just never stopped.

Saliva was piling up in his mouth and he had no idea what to do about it. The idea of having a whole mouth again, a tongue, teeth, a palate, a throat…! It was absolutely surreal. Well, the whole situation was, in fact.

The thought made him freeze suddenly: why did it happen in the first place? His eyes glanced everywhere, trying to find an explanation. As for his mind, it was trying its best to ignore all the new feelings he was experiencing, including the sensation of his eyes moving around. It felt so foreign, so… Disgusting.

His eyes fell on the broken Time Piece on the ground and, all of a sudden, everything just made sense. How did he not understand right away? He wondered, fear and confusion quickly replaced by rage and anger. He lifted his head, staring at the little girls comforting him, clenching his teeth as a single thought echoed in his mind.

Of course, it had to be their fault.

-“What-” the ghost coughed, the saliva in his mouth entering his throat in the wrong way. He had to spit what was left in his mouth to the ground, having no idea how to swallow yet. The kids were watching him carefully, a look of worry and fear on their face as he started to speak again, his voice very low: “What did you do to me?”

His throat vibrated as he said those words, almost making him cough again. It was just so weird.

In front of him, the kids looked at each other with confusion, as if they didn’t understand what he had meant. Snatcher’s rage grew at the observation: oh, so they didn’t get what he was asking? Then he would make them, he thought, threateningly.

-“I swear…” he started once more, a growl in his voice, glaring at the children with fury: “If you don’t tell me what happened or even try to reverse this whole thing… I will kill you both.”

A look of realization crossed the kids’ features at his words. The bow-wearing kid frowned, ready to talk back, but the hatted brat cut her short, even more outraged than her best friend:

-“I’m sorry? You broke the Time Piece!” she retorted, letting go of him and placing both of her hands to her hips: “We didn’t do anything!”

-“You know,” added the other child, in a calmer yet judgemental tone: “you could have given it to us directly instead of throwing it over like that…”

The ghost clenched his jaw harder. Oh, so this was his fault? He let out a dark and raspy laugh at the idea. How hilarious. He opened his mouth again to talk, but another fit of coughing forced him to clench his sides. It hurt. Everything was so intense, so overwhelming, so loud, so painful. He didn’t feel any of that when he was dead! And now it was just so deafening, so crushing!

-“Change… Change it back!” he ordered, having to spit more saliva to the ground not to choke himself with it again. His voice sounded so different to his usual one. First of all, it didn’t have any echo, and second… It sounded much too familiar to him.

It sounded just like when he was alive. Which… Was now the case, again. The thought made him sick. He pleaded any God listening to make this moment as short as possible. He just wanted to be back in his old spectral form, the one he was used to, the one who he felt safe with.

In front of him, the kids frowned, as a look of awkwardness appeared on their face. This made the ghost terribly uncomfortable because it just gave him a very bad feeling about his current situation. They both turned to the Time Piece behind them, which wasn’t broken anymore. When the brats glanced back at him, somehow, the spirit had already guessed what they were about to say.

And he really, really didn’t want to hear it.

-“We…” stuttered the older child, the hatted one, as she was looking for her words. She didn’t seem to find them and her best friend took over, trying to find the best way to announce the bad news to him:

-“We can’t... I’m sorry,” she said, softly, putting her hand on his shoulder, rubbing it gently. It felt awful, the contact was too strong for Snatcher, It was too sensitive, he could even hear the rustling sound of the fabric against her skin! It was loud, too loud.

The words hit Snatcher like a wave, like a violent wave crushing all his hopes down to nothing. They couldn’t. That’s what they had replied to his wish to go back to normal.

They couldn’t.

A nervous laugh left his lips as his brain slowly registered what it all entailed. His laugh quickly died as his mind conjured Moonjumper’s face. Oh, God, how was he going to explain this to him… They didn’t have the best of the relationships and, well, the shade was mostly at fault for that. He had always disliked the other, not knowing exactly why. Perhaps it was because Moonjumper had stolen his body, perhaps it was because the latter had his memories yet wasn’t him. Or, perhaps…

He just hated to look at another version of himself, one that reminded him of his awful and terrifying past. How ironic! Now that he was back in his old body, fully alive, the situation had changed completely!

The spirit didn’t really want the other to see him like this now. He was already dealing with too many things at the moment…

Another thought hit him: what about his minions? How would he even explain that to them? How would they react? They were all a bunch of dead kids, who knew how they would react! There were so many of them and he had no idea how much they would freak out over this whole situation. As for him, he was freaking out a lot. However, another face came to his mind and his became deadly pale.

Vanessa. If he was alive again, he wouldn’t have any powers to fight back against her and the spread of the ice to the forest… This was an absolute nightmare, this couldn’t be happening, this just couldn’t be happening!

His breath rhythm quickened as he started to hyperventilate. His heartbeat followed his panic and he couldn’t help but bring a hand to his chest, grabbing at the fabric of his shirt. A feeling of utter distress engulfed him as he felt an immense fear settling over him. Oh God, what was going to happen now that Subcon was defenceless against the one who had murdered everyone? How would he be able to protect Subcon Forest in this useless and meaty body? He didn’t have his powers anymore, he could feel they were gone! All the souls he had consumed had vanished, as if he had never eaten any! He just felt his heart pounding in his chest, heard the same and awful ringing sound in his mind as it was blinded by so many sensations again. His muscles were growing cold from the shock and he started to tremble again.

This just couldn’t be.

He felt his body being shaken back and forth again, forcing him to pull himself together. In front of him, the older hatted brat was staring at him, worried, just like her younger friend, who started to rub his shoulder again.

-“Snatcher! Snap out of it!” said the hatted kid, very much afraid for him.

-“No…” he murmured, anger slowly replaced by despair: “No, no, no!” he screamed, hating how much his voice sounded so unnatural and human contrary to his usual one: “I can’t be alive again! I can’t be like this!” He yelled, gesturing at himself with a mix of horror and disgust. Snatcher needed to be dead in order to protect Subcon. If he was a human again… How would he be able to fight against Vanessa? Against her magic? Even the littlest problem would become a dangerous threat for the entire forest if he wasn’t there to protect it!

This was the worst possible scenario.

-“I’m sorry…” sympathized the bow-wearing child, still rubbing his shoulder as a way to comfort him. The hatted one was just staring at him, visibly upset, feeling hopeless.

Snatcher shut his eyes hard and clenched his fists, before stopping quickly: the sensation of his nails penetrating his skin was just awful and painful. Everything just hurt too much. Slowly, he felt something leaking from his eyes and he brought his hands to his face, not knowing what it was at first. When his fingers touched his wet cheeks, the realization hit him: he was crying. He, the powerful soul-stealing ghost, who had killed hundreds of people in centuries, was crying! This was just hilarious. How ironic!

… How pitiful.

He let out an insincere and dark laugh at the thought, but it soon transformed into disgusting sobs. He could feel his nose getting stuffed up from the crying and there was a lump in his throat. He tried to stop himself from sobbing even more, because it was just ridiculous and it would absolutely not help him the sightless… Yet, he couldn’t help but let other tears roll onto his cheeks. They were so cold on his skin, even more as the wind caressed his face again.

Why? Why was this happening? Why did it have to happen to him?

More sobs left his mouth as he curled up again, his forehead hitting the ground as he let himself fall forward. He couldn’t hold back the crying, no matter how much he wanted it, how much he found himself utterly pathetic for having such a meltdown, how much he was so weak when he needed to be strong…

The tears just wouldn’t stop.

He soon felt two sets of arms trying to hug him despite his uncomfortable position. But the comfort only made it worse. Snatcher didn’t want to be touched right now. All he wanted was to be dead again!

But apparently life had other plans for him.

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=> Chapter 2