#remembered after her death and all she did in life to preserve peace but he has no way of venting this so he just takes any and all eves he

[sundaybossanova]

Witch's Love Chapter 1

Paring: San x OC

AU: Fantasy

Word count: 4,1k

Summery:

It was a normal day for Sera, brewing potions, visiting the market and trying not to blow her cover but a sudden uninvited guest changes everything. Lying on her doorstep is a young man on the brink of death and she has no idea what she's gotten into after saving his life.

With a heavy sight Sera finally stepped back from her cauldron having finished putting the last bits of dried lavender into the now finally finished potion. With the sleeves of her ebony blouse, she carefully dabbed away the sweat drops on her forehead. It has taken her longer than expected to craft the potion seeing as she ran out of marjoram halfway through the making process. “Maybe if I had checked my stock before starting this whole thing would have been done quicker” the white-haired witch said to nobody in particular. Walking slowly to the tiny window in the house she admired the glowing moon that was shining brightly in the dark night sky. Beside the last crackles of the dying fire the house was silent with the feeling of peace hovering in the air. Two soft knocks could be heard breaking the tranquil silence and making Sera give one last glance to the moon before moving on to open the wooden door of her humble abode. “Why do you come home at this hour Bram?” the girl asked opening the door wider to let the large black dog enter her home. Without much of a response the familiar trotted to the kitchen, went past the cauldron containing the finished potion and finally settled down close to the extinguished fireplace laying down trying to preserve the last bits of warmth offered by it. “Oh come on tell me what you have been up to, I missed you while you were gone.” Pouting slightly the girl continued “Did you meet someone interesting? Or have you found new customers in the village?” Still the dog seemed not one bit interested and simply answered “It was a long day and even though I haven’t interacted with a lot of people, actually none, I am still exhausted.” He repositioned his head so he could watch the witch make her way to a cabinet taking out ingredients for their shared dinner which turned into a late-night snack. “Did you finish your potion we have to bring it to the customer tomorrow.” Bram reminded the girl still remembering times where the young witch would forget the deadlines for her potions causing a lot of her clients to become angry and dissatisfied with her work. The young witch just hummed as a form of saying yes, too concentrated on cutting the ingredients for their shared meal. “Everything is finished I just have to fill it into a flask, don`t worry so much.” And with that she continued her task with a small smile on her lips.

As the first rays of sunshine slowly appeared Sera was already finishing getting dressed in dark green woollen dress with a white ruffle-sleeved blouse underneath it. Her delicate hands grabbed onto the necklace laying on the small dressing table in front of the mirror. After looking at the three green stones embedded in the pendant, she quickly put it on and started braiding her hair. “We have to leave soon I feel like there will be a storm coming and I would rather get home with my fur still dry” came Bram’s voice from his place on her bed. His comment made her hurry up grabbing her black cloak, basket and coin pouch ready to leave if it wasn’t for her familiar calling out to her: “Haven’t you forgot something? Maybe a little thing you worked for all night long?”. With that said Sera turned around and swiftly grabbed the flask from her worktable muttering a quiet “Thank you. Now let’s go”. The black dog was following the witch through the still quiet woods where the animals and plants had yet to awake. The fog was slowly lifting as the two neared the village and could hear faint voices from the marketplace in the centre of the town. Making their way into the bustling streets the screams of many sellers became louder and they had to push themselves through the crowds of busy villagers on their way to get groceries and what not. “Remind me why I had agreed to join you today?” Bram’s voice was laced with regret not enjoying being nearly being stepped on and pushed around by people. “It was your decision don’t try to put the blame on me now.” She answered with a light chuckle finally seeing their destination coming closer. The little shack seemed to be quite old and rundown she guessed nobody has used it in some time. “Doesn’t it feel weird that the customer has requested to meet here out of all the places? This place seems abandoned and there aren’t any people around” her familiar spoke up with questions that have also been going through her mind. “Honestly I don’t know who ordered it, in the letter it only said she needed the potion as soon as possible and I feel like when somebody asks for this particular one, they are very desperate, so I wanted to help without asking any questions.” The girl finally admitted realizing her own mistake of being too naïve and taking on requests she couldn’t be sure were worth her time or would endanger her life. “I do think you know to not do such stupid things ever again, if they find out a witch has helped getting rid of a child you will be solely accused of killing an innocent child they won’t care or believe that you only acted out the mothers wishes.” Bram’s voice was stern trying to control his anger that comes from his underlying fear of the girl getting hurt by the strangers living in the village.

Before she could continue apologizing for her wrongdoings, they could hear light footsteps coming near. “Excuse me Miss but are you the- “the hooded figure was slowly coming to a halt in front of the two nervously looking around “are you the witch?” she finally finished her question after stumbling over her own words. Sera raised her head to look the person in the eyes finding a pair of storm grey eyes filled with worry. “Yes, I am the one you’ve been searching for I presume you are the one who wrote me the letter” Shily the girl nodded and tried to crack a small smile, yet the only thing visible on her face was her nerves. “Here take the potion” she pulled out the flask and handed it to the shaking woman. “To make it more enjoyable, mix it into some tea and drink it before going to sleep. This potion will cause you to miscarry, you might feel a sharp pain in your stomach and become a bit dizzy the next morning but as soon as the miscarriage has ended those symptoms will pass eventually.” Sera has spoken those words without breaking eye contact with the person in front of her. “I hope after this you will be happier and if you need anything else you know where to find me my dear.” She ended her little speech with a comforting smile patting the girl’s shoulder before making her way in the direction of the forest. Too stunned to speak the young woman nearly forgot to thank and pay the witch for her service. “Wait up! Here`s your money I am ever so grateful for your help. Honestly, I don’t know what I would do without this potion, so I want to thank you from the bottom of my heart.” With those final words the younger one put the gold coins into Sera’s hand and ran off without looking back quickly disappearing behind corners and buildings of the village. “She seems too young and innocent to get pregnant, this whole thing gives me a bad feeling.” Her familiar finally spoke up after the girl was out of sight. “Maybe it was an accident, maybe she was forced we will never know, and we especially shouldn’t intervene with the business of others. We’re doing our job by providing the people with potions and remedies for their problems, nothing more nothing less.” Continuing their way home they stopped at a few booths with Sera picking up items she ran out of and Bram staying close by her side looking out for any potential dangers. Unfortunately, it had begun pouring down some time after they entered the forest again. “I told you we should have left earlier to avoid the rain.” The witch chose to ignore the familiars’ words and just kept on following the small path home. The rain has started to sicker through her cloak and slowly she began to feel the cold creeping up on her. When the small hut came into the girl’s view, she sighed out of relief . “It wasn’t that bad, was it? If you want, I can make us some hot supe and meanwhile you dry yourself in front of the fireplace? Deal?” she suggested looking behind her to face the dog. “This actually sounds like a good plan, I am in.” the wolflike creature answered but before he could add anything Sera let out a short scream while falling on the ground. Confused and utterly shocked the girl looked down at her feet seeing something she hadn’t expected to find. “How, why…. When” She couldn’t find any words while staring at the severely wounded man lying on the ground. The guy tried to get up by pushing his right hand into the mud pulling his upper body a few centimetres off the ground, head only raised long enough for them to make eye contact before he collapsed again letting out muffled groans. Finally, the silent whimpers and expressions of pain pulled Sera out of her thoughts, and she suddenly rushed to the stranger’s side holding his bloody face in her hands. “He’s burning up, we have to get him inside as quickly as possible.” She said in a rushed voice, already preparing to carry the man’s body into her hut with the help of Bram.

Her kitchen table was turned into a makeshift hospital bed after they had laid the young lad onto it. Running around collecting the needed items Sera didn’t realise that the boy had awoken and tried to stand up. “What do you think you are doing?” said Bram in a stern voice. The witch turned on her heels and pushed the upper body of her patient back down. “Lay down, you are severely injured and you’re only making it worse.” She was quite angry, yet her touch was gentle while putting him back into place. With efficient moves she prepared all of the tools she needed and started to work on healing his wounds. The only sound coming from the man were muffled groans and yelps of pain while Sera was putting different ointments and herbs on his many wounds. “This one will hurt a lot.” She said in a quiet whisper lazed with concern as she slowly poured alcohol on the deepest wound on his chest that was oozing blood. “You’re quite lucky the arrow didn’t hit your heart”. Bram was watching everything from a distance not wanting to disturb her while she was in her trance of healing. The sweat on her forehead was glistening in the dim light of the room as she placed the final dressing over her patient’s upper body. Huffing out a sigh of relief she turned her body to the familiar, a small smile escaping her lips. “He is doing fine now; you can go to sleep. I will stay and look after him” Not fond of this idea the wolfish creature stated it would be best for her to rest and he will wake her the moment the stranger shows signs of waking up. Finally feeling the exhaustion taking over her body Sera gave in and made her way up the stairs into her bedchamber and after lying down on her comfortable little bed it didn’t take long for her to fall asleep.

“Get away from me you damn beast” was the first thing the young witch heard upon waking up the next day. Without a thought she ran down the stairs to find her dear familiar being threatened with a knife by the person who just yesterday was lying in front of her abode on the brink of death. “What do you think you are doing?” she was enraged, and the man suddenly turned upon hearing her voice. “What do you mean, I am defending myself from this creature.” After that comment Bram couldn’t take it anymore and with a venomous voice he finally spoke up “I did nothing to you! Ungrateful brat. You are the one pointing weapons and wanting to fight.” With that said Sera had enough and in one big stride went to the strangers’ side gripping onto his arm completely taking him by surprise. “I will not tolerate this kind of behaviour in my house! And you should lie back down, or your wounds will reopen, and all my work will have gone to waste.” Flabbergasted, the man let her lead him back to the kitchen table he had previously laid on and sat back down. The witch was mumbling incoherent words while scurrying around the room doing who knows what. Before he could speak up, he was interrupted by the woman. “How about we start over. After all this seems like one big misunderstanding.” Now that he has somewhat calmed down, he took in the appearance of his apparent saviour. A petite girl of similar age to him, with long white hair, fair skin and eyes a shade of green he only knows from the depths of the forest. It took him some time to speak up himself: “I agree also I am sorry for threatening your ehhh… pet wolf?” While in the end his sentence sounded more like a question Sera had to hold in her laugh. “He is not a wolf but a black shepherd and my familiar. His name is Bram.” She said, smiling faintly while putting a kettle over the little fire she had started. “Oh, how rude of me, my name is Sera.” she added, turning around to face him. “San” Was the short answer from the stranger who still looked wary of his surroundings. “It’s nice to meet you San, I am curious how you got into the state you were in yesterday”. Patience was not one of her strong suits therefore she just had to ask him. Her green eyes full of curiosity were now fixated on him waiting for an answer. “Well, you see, I have been running away from the royal guards with my brother and to distract them we split up upon arriving in the forest but they defied my expectations and kept up with my pace even getting close enough to hit me with an arrow” his hand was subconsciously hovering over the bandages around his chest. “After falling to the ground I thought it was over but because of whatever reason they ran back to the castle after hearing the sound of a horn, without that I would probably be dead by now” pausing for a moment he lifted his head locking his brown eyes with hers. “And if you wouldn’t have found me I also would be dead, so thank you again I own you my life”. The sincerity in his voice was so eminent that a smile crept itself on her face. “I would do it again in a heartbeat.” she said confidently, finally breaking their eye contact to hand him one of the mugs full of deliciously smelling tea. The following silence was not an awkward one but rather one of mutual understanding and want for some peace.

“Do you live here alone?'' It was his time to ask a question again and she nodded her head taking off the bandages carefully. “Ever since I was 16 but I have Bram, so I am never really alone” The wolfish creature's ears peaked after his name was mentioned and his curious eyes followed his master's movements meticulously. “I see, still I can’t really imagine how it must feel to live like this coming from living with seven other guys. Your situation seems like the complete opposite” he said, cracking a smile at the end a little lost in his thoughts about his brothers. Would they be searching for him, maybe they thought he was dead in the end? He just hoped they wouldn’t do anything stupid because of his absence. “My turn. Why were you running from the guards?'' The wound was now fully unwrapped, and she began applying a self-made ointment on it. “Should have known you would ask” he mumbled quietly trying to avoid her forest green eyes. “I may or may not have stolen something from the palace” Her hands stopped working, eyes looking up searching for his. “You really stole from the king?” her voice was low still in disbelief waiting for him to start laughing or telling her it was a joke. But to her further surprise he kept his sheepish posture confirming her it was the truth that he spoke. “Wow… this is unbelievable but what was so important to sacrifice your own life? There is nothing more valuable than life itself?” her answer surprised him, instead of flipping out after finding out he committed treason she was wondering about his reasoning. “We simply stole money and riches, we didn’t even take a lot to stay unnoticed but on our way out we were spotted by a guard, it rarely happens so we weren’t really ready.” “Wait so you did this more than once?'' Now the shock was evident in her eyes as she dropped the new bandages she prepared. San finally raised his head showing the serious expression that was previously hidden behind his hair. “I know this sounds horrible and I understand if you do not want me here anymore but please don’t tell anyone and let me leave. I promise to never come back” he sounded so earnest taking her hands in his pleading her to understand. It took her a moment to realise she had been staring blankly at him. He took her lack of response as a sign to leave dropping her hands and trying to get up from the kitchen table. This was finally enough to rip her from her daze. “No stay you’re still hurt” her hands were pulling him back gently while her facial expressions made him feel at ease taking away the fear and panic that began bubbling inside him. “It is true that stealing, especially from the king, is a severe crime but I’d like to believe that you have your reasons to do so. Furthermore, I cannot let you walk around the forest in this state knowing I could have helped you more.” The sincerity in her eyes took him by surprise making him smile showing off his dimples. Letting out a breathy thank you he still couldn’t believe she wasn’t about to kick him out or worse tell on him to the guards. “Are you sure you want to help a traitor of the crown?” he asked willing to give her one last chance to avoid the mess she was about to get into. “Don’t worry about me, if the king were to find me helping you would be the least of my crimes. After all being born a witch will forever be my biggest crime.” The smile on her face seemed forced her eyes not meeting his while she busied her hands to finish bandaging his chest. He was too stunned to speak her bravery admirable to him, yet he caught on to the change of mood and he couldn’t imagine how it must feel to be in constant fear of being caught. “Well in my eyes your powers seem more like a blessing then a curse it just scares the ones who are afraid of change and the possibility of losing their power.” This made her heart speed up, he wasn’t afraid of her instead he seemed rather fascinated and intrigued about her abilities. For the remaining time they stayed silent, the only noise coming from her working on changing his bandages.

“You should stay the night to rest and gain more energy to go back home” was the first thing Sera said while they were having dinner. Mid-bite San raised his head looking at her, “sounds like a plan thank you for your hospitality” the smile on his face shone so brightly making her join him. Waving one of her hands dismissively she tried to explain how she liked to help people and would do it again any day. The rest of their meal was filled with random topics, some stories of their past and a lot of laughter. He told her more about his brothers, how one of them tried to cook but instead nearly burned down their house or how the oldest reminded him of her because he was the one who would take care of their wounds. Through the evening they got a lot closer realising how similar they were yet so different at the same time. “They would love to meet you” he commented with a big grin. “I’m not so sure about that one, they don’t even know I exist, and they would probably think I am awkward.” The last part was more a whisper to herself, she knew that her social skills were lacking and just thinking about meeting all of his 7 brothers made her shrink in her seat. “What do you mean? I can already see Seonghwa thanking you for taking care of me and asking about all the salves and ointments you used.” His eyes seemed so sincere that Sera felt more at ease, yet in the back of her mind the fear of judgement was still present and would probably not leave any time soon. “You should try to get some sleep now, it’s getting late and we want your wounds to heal as quickly as possible right?” the young witch said with a small smile, starting to clean the table. “You`re right, let me help you” and after a quick argument about how he should rest and not clean dishes right now, which she lost, they finished tidying up and she showed him to her room. “You can take my bed, I'll give you some clothes for you to sleep in.” Before he could disagree with her statement the girl was already going through her drawers picking out a pair of loose fitting trousers and a linen shirt. “Take these I will be downstairs, just call me if you need anything. Sleep tight:” and with those words she quickly left to get some sleep herself after all the day had been quite long. With her leaving the room San looked at the clothes in his hand and felt a weird sense of comfort, one he had only experienced when being in the presence of his brothers.

The first rays of sunlight hit the white sheets and reached the golden skin of the person underneath it. Scrunching his nose San tried to avoid the light by covering his face with the fluffy piece of cloth yet his efforts of going back to sleep were in vain as he heard soft footsteps and a knock on the door. “Good morning, I prepared breakfast if you want some '' he heard the soft spoken words come from the other side of the door. Suddenly realising that he isn't in his own bed in the comfort of his own room, San takes a moment to grasp the whole situation. “Ah yes of course I will come down in a minute” he stumbles over his words while trying to get up as quickly as possible. A sudden pain in his abound makes him groan in pain altering the young witch outside. Without a knock she rushes into the room to assist San, chestering him for being so careless. He felt her soft hands supporting his back, subconsciously rubbing soothing circles while he waited for the pain to lessen. “You should be more careful, you were on the brink of death yesterday. You can't just get up like nothing happened or you will make it even worse.” Her hands are now all over his body checking the bandages and the wounds on his face, concern clearly evident in her actions. “I'm sorry, I acted before I could think.” his lips were formed into a small pout which she couldn't help but think of as cute and endearing. “Come on now you need to eat something and then take the medicine i prepared for you” Sera patted his shoulder one last time, giving him a reassuring smile and leaving the room. San sat on the bed for a little longer, trying to root himself and get rid of the light red tint on his ears.

This is my first fanfic ever so I am really nervous, I still hope you enjoy it!

devider by @cafekitsune

[moonlitfirefly]

Anne Brontë's novels are not as well known as those of her more famous elder sisters, but they told truths about the abject oppression of women that English society (even her own sisters) did not want to hear, much less address. Born 1820 in Haworth, Yorkshire, Anne was the youngest of the Brontë children.

"Her second novel and the most shocking of the collective Brontë novels, The Tenant of Wildfell Hall, was published under her nom-de-plume, Acton Bell, and sold out in six weeks. Anne’s depiction of alcoholism, debauchery and what May Sinclair, a member of the Woman Writers' Suffrage League, described in 1913 as “the slamming of Helen Huntingdon's bedroom door against her husband” reverberated throughout Victorian England. It is considered one of the first feminist novels.

"Anne lived for most of her life with her family apart from attending boarding school for two years when she was 16, and a six year spell as a governess in her early twenties. Her mother, Maria, had died when she was barely a year old and in Elizabeth Gaskell’s biography of Charlotte Brontë, their father remembered her as precocious. When Anne was four, he had asked her what a child most wanted. She said, “Age and experience".

"The Brontë sisters like many women writers at the time published their poems and novels under male pen names so that their work might be taken seriously in the male-dominated literary world of the 19th century: they were Currer, Ellis, and Acton Bell.

"Anne’s first novel, Agnes Grey, was published in 1847 under the pen name Acton Bell. It was based on her own experiences as a governess. Agnes Grey wants “to go out into the world; to act for myself; to exercise my unused faculties; to try my own unknown powers” but has to deal with instances of abuse of women and governesses, oppression and isolation.

"Her second novel, The Tenant of Wildfell Hall, published in 1848, went further. The book describes how the protagonist Helen Huntingdon left her husband to protect her son and support them both by painting. This flew in the face of all social conventions and English law. Until the Married Women’s Property Act of 1870, a married woman was not legally a person in her own right; she was just an extension of her husband. She could not own property, sue for divorce or have legal custody of her own children. Mr Huntingdon had the legal right to force her to return, to have her charged with kidnapping for taking her own son, and with theft for supporting herself on her own money since all of her income legally belonged to him.

“Sick of mankind and their disgusting ways," scribbled Anne Brontë in pencil at the back of her Prayer Book.

"Anne met with fierce criticism for her work despite its huge popularity. Even her sister Charlotte said the portrayal of Mr Huntingdon was overly graphic and disturbing. Anne merely remarked mildly that she "wished to tell the truth" and stuck to her guns.

"After Anne's death at the age of 29 of tuberculosis, Charlotte *prevented further publication* of The Tenant of Wildfell Hall, writing: “It hardly appears to me desirable to preserve. The choice of subject in that work is a mistake, it was too little consonant with the character, tastes and ideas of the gentle, retiring inexperienced writer.”

The last word to goes to Anne:

“When we have to do with vice and vicious characters, I maintain it is better to depict them as they really are than as they would wish to appear. To represent a bad thing in its least offensive light is doubtless the most agreeable course for a writer of fiction to pursue; but is it the most honest, or the safest? Is it better to reveal the snares and pitfalls of life to the young and thoughtless traveller, or to cover them with branches and flowers?

O Reader! if there were less of this delicate concealment of facts – this whispering 'Peace, peace', when there is no peace, there would be less of sin and misery to the young of both sexes who are left to wring their bitter knowledge from experience.”

Another ace post from the Attagirls!

https://twitter.com/TheAttagirls/status/1747521384299835472

Source: https://www.facebook.com/share/c4rFhgmfdMjxxNF2/?mibextid=WC7FNe

[reneemauricesings]

We're so close to seeing the final 10 episodes of Manifest and I am so freaking excited!

I don't know if Ben and Saanvi are endgame or if they're even gonna go there, but they're definitely going to be getting closer in these last 10 episodes and it has been clear since day one that they have for sure come into each other's lives for a reason.

But anyway, I wanted to write a scenario in which they explore their feelings for each other, whether it comes real or not. I can't WAIT to find out on June 2nd!

Peace and love,

Renee.

...

Ben and Saanvi were equally exhausted as they were wired. Running for your life at a Top Secret Government Facility will do that to a person.

Knowing they'd gotten far enough away to evade the authorities and escape immediate danger, they began to slow the pace of their walk.

They were still a few miles out from basecamp and although desperate to get back to the others to tell them what they had found, they knew they needed to rest first.

They had no shelter of course and very little to eat or drink. Their surroundings were quite barren which left them exposed to the elements.

But they had each other, and the stars were magnificent.

After picking a particular patch of dirt on which to sit, Ben curled his legs up to his chest and shivered.

"Cold?" Saanvi softly queried.

He nodded his head against his knees. "Don't know why though, it's nearly Summer and the air's pretty warm."

Wrapping her arms around herself, Saanvi gave him a sympathetic smile. "You've lost body fat. None of us have had enough to eat these past few months."

She was right. You couldn't exactly order takeout while living off the grid.

The passengers had formed a sort of commune, a self-sufficient one. They had learned to grow their own food and had really only been living off that and the few basic supplies they received from trusted outsiders on about a once-a-month basis.

Being on the run from the registry was a case of self-preservation for them all. They knew if they had any chance of surviving the death date and saving the world, it wasn't going to happen with them all locked up in prison cells.

Despite knowing they had a bigger mission to fulfill, the comforts of home were missed by everyoneBen could barely remember the days of sitting in his living room in front of the fireplace - with his family. It seemed like a whole other lifetime ago. What he wouldn't give to live in the comfort of those moments again.

Ever perceptive to him as she was, Saanvi asked shyly, "Do you wanna…warm each other up?"

He turned his head to her, snickering bashfully at what it sounded like she was suggesting…until the look in her eyes confirmed it.

Off his immediate lack of response, she shook her head, feeling embarrassed. "Forget I said anything."

But Ben didn't want to forget. He wanted to be reminded. Of what it felt like to lie in a woman's arms, to be held gently and tenderly. To be wanted, to be craved. To be loved.

Pressing his palm to her cheek, the action already a good start to warming both of them, he brought his lips to hers. Against his mouth, her breath was sultry, by both meanings of the word. They became wrapped up in each other, no longer nervous or afraid. More fearful of not having a deeper connection than of upsetting the balance of the one they already shared.

There was an undefined trust between the two of them that had been there from the day they met. With that trust at the fore, they gave themselves unreservedly to one another.

Protecting the back of her brilliant, beautiful head, he lay her down on the unforgiving ground and covered her with every bit of the love in him he still had left to give.

No two people lived more in the knowledge that nothing happened by accident, everything that occurred in the universe did so for a reason and a purpose. To not find the purpose out of the slew of tragedy that had befallen them would be a tragedy in and of itself.

And so they were both equally unabashed in honoring their mutual feelings. For Ben, being with Saanvi and for Saanvi being with Ben, sharing their time, their intellect, their passions, and now in baring their spirits completely to one another, they each felt like the freest versions of themselves.

They both wept, crying with relief to be here together now as well as for all the lost time. Then again, they knew it had been time needed to heal, to grieve, to trust again, to relearn how to give themselves, mind, body and heart, to another person.

The years they had been in one another's lives had passed so swiftly, yet it felt like they had known each other forever in their souls. The journey they had been on was perilous beyond anything anyone else on Earth could imagine. Whatever happened next, Ben and Saanvi were bound forever.

They lay together, beating heart to beating heart. Satiated, content and more than warmed.

Sensing he may have been suffocating her for holding her so tightly, Ben released his grip on her a little but Saanvi whimpered and pulled his arm back around her. "Mm-mm, don't let go."

He kissed the top of her head and softly whispered. "No. Not until the very end."

There was nothing around them for miles and nothing comforting or safe guaranteed for their future.

But they had each other, and the stars were magnificent.

[ryhmus]

NOLI MEI OBLIVISCI [Tumblr Port]

Chapter 1:

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The Truth

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CONTAINS SPOILERS! PROCEED AT YOUR OWN RISK! takes place after the good ending

Sunny stood before the door to the hospital room where everyone was waiting. He took a deep breath, remembering all he had gone through to get to this moment and pushed open the door to the room where his friends were. Kel, Aubrey, and Hero stood by Basil's bedside staring at him with bewilderment as he stepped through.

Hero was the first to speak, moving forward to place a hand on his shoulder. "Sunny? what are you doing out of bed? The Doctor said you shouldn't be up and walking so soon-"

Sunny stopped him with a raised palm and opened his mouth to speak…

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WHITE SPACE

{A second chance…}

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Welcome to WHITE SPACE you have been living here as long as you can remember…

...

—-

"I have to tell you something."

—

The moment those words were spoken, a great tremor shook throughout all of WHITE SPACE. The invisible foundations that held the imaginary world together were starting to crack and crumble as the long preserved Truth that held it together was revealed. The white featureless floor gave way to the black abyss down below, even the RED HANDS and the cat, MEWO were no longer present in this dying abandoned world. Eventually, the only intact parts of the former shelter was the door to the rest of HEADSPACE, the mat that had always lay in the center along with it's contents and a monochrome boy lying asleep in the center of it.

—

"It's about Mari, I…I'm the reason she's dead, not what you all thought years ago."

...

"Sunny...what are you talking about? Mari wasn't-"

"Shhh! don't interrupt him Kel."

...

—-

Another tremor shook WHITE SPACE, stronger this time, enough to cause it's sole occupant to stir from his rest. OMORI awoke and sat up taking in the new desolate state of his former home. The light-bulb above where it should have been was missing from it's string, shattered by the Dreamer in his search for the Truth he had worked so hard to suppress. In one final attempt to protect Sunny from the Truth, OMORI had turned on his creator when it became apparent that no amount of resetting HEADSPACE would fix the problem anymore. When OMORI attempted to make Sunny submit to his guilt and trauma in a bid to take control again Sunny fought back. But even after using everything in his power to protect the Dreamer from the Truth and save him from the pain he was heading towards, OMORI failed and was forced to accept his defeat, vanishing in the process of Sunny's acceptance of the painful path he had chosen for himself now that he no longer needed HEADSPACE…or that's what should have happened...

Then why was he still here? if Sunny no longer needed him why was he still alive?

—-

"…S-she didn't hang herself…I killed her."

...

"W-what?"

"You're kidding right? but she did take her own life! I-I don't understand..."

"Sunny are you sure you don't need to go back to resting?"

...

"No...please, listen... you all deserve to know what happened that day..."

—

The remains of the floor that OMORI stood on shuddered as more and more of WHITE SPACE was consumed by the void into BLACK SPACE below, his little platform becoming smaller and smaller.

("So this is how it ends...") he solemnly thought to himself and stood up, walking towards the edge of the mat.

Despite the dire situation around him he felt no panic nor fear. This world and everything in it would soon cease to exist just as it would eventually come to and he was fine with that, if it meant that Sunny would be able to accept Mari's death and finally move on then so be it. OMORI closed his eyes with a relieved sigh and let the void consume him, content that he could finally know peace after four years of endless dreaming…

—-

"On the day of the recital I broke my violin because I was angry..."

"...that I couldn't be up to Mari's standards no matter how hard I practiced…"

"…that I couldn't be with my friends because of the recital…"

"I didn't want to practice the violin…I just wanted to be with my sister...

and after months of failure after failure, I wanted out I didn't want this anymore."

"So I threw my violin down the stairs in hopes that I would be free, I knew I shouldn't have but I wasn't thinking straight..."

"When Mari saw the what I did to my violin, she was furious that I broke the thing that you all put so much effort to get for me."

"She was yelling at me, 'Why? why did you break your violin?"

"Do you know how much it cost to get it?"

"How are we supposed to perform tonight if you can't play?"

"I just wanted to get away to my room to make the shame go away…but she wouldn't let me go…wouldn't let me leave..."

"Why couldn't she see that I was hurting?"

"That I couldn't be perfect like her?"

"It was her fault right?"

"She made me suffer...and for what? it was HER recital, I was just there to support HER... it was never about us to begin with."

"So I-I pushed her...d-down the stairs. A-and she fell on the violin pieces..."

"One moment she was staring at me with that terrified expression in her eyes..."

"The next, I was staring back at her broken body at the bottom of the staircase..."

"...The blood...the hair...the unbearable silence...those eyes..."

"...I didn't mean to kill my own sister…I didn't...it was an accident."

—-

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HEADSPACE

{Friends having a picnic}

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NEIGHBOR'S ROOM was completely devoid of life by the time the fissures from the white door seeped throughout the entirety of the room and collapsed in on itself into the darkness below, where it continued fracturing upward until the stump outside cracked in half and fell into nothingness as BLACK SPACE began to flood outward into all of HEADSPACE like a massive sinkhole.

Meanwhile in the PLAYGROUND, KEL and AUBREY were bickering over something...again.

"HERO! KEL is being mean to me again! make him to apologize!" AUBREY pouted, stomping her foot on the grass.

KEL sat on the bench behind them playing with his pet rock HECTOR, the young boy mockingly stuck his tongue out at her, AUBREY sniffled and crossed her arms in a huff.

HERO strolled over to the bench. "Oh boy, what did you do this time KEL?" HERO chided his younger brother with a friendly but stern tone and expression.

KEL snorted and looked away with puffed cheeks. "Nothing…she's just acting up over nothing again." he lied.

HERO raised a eyebrow at him and sighed. "KEL…I think you owe AUBREY an apology."

This was enough to make KEL give in. "Alright! alright! I said her bow looked stupid and that it was a gross color...but only because she said I smelled bad!"

Sitting nearby on a picnic blanket, MARI chuckled to herself as she watched HERO make his little brother apologize to AUBREY, her friends living their lives like nothing bad would ever happen to them...just another day in paradise.

—-

"I didn't know what to do afterwards…it was all a blur…like a bad dream..."

"Seeing her just lay there made me think she was asleep."

"I dragged her up the stairs to our room and placed her on the bed."

"I couldn't think straight, I was so scared."

"It was a bad dream…she'll wake up!' I told myself over and over."

"But…she never did."

...

"Oh my God, are you...are you for real right now?!"

"Aubrey...please, just wait a little longer for Sunny to finish..."

"Fine...but I want answers and I want them soon."

...

"Then Basil showed up and saw her body…he had seen the whole thing."

"He was scared too like me…but for more than just Mari..."

"He'd lose his best friend if you all found out what happened to her..."

"...What I did to her..."

"...you'd hate me for the rest of your lives."

"And I would've deserved it."

"...But he came up with a plan to protect me…"

"One that would save us from the Truth."

"But at the same time, unwittingly doom us to a great and terrible burden..."

"So we took her body to the tree in the backyard…"

—-

Suddenly, the vibrant purple constellation filled sky of HEADSPACE turned pitch black and all the other kids in the PLAYGROUND vanished. The ground began to shake and crumble as KEL and AUBREY stopped arguing when they noticed the floor giving way beneath them and rushed to the picnic blanket for safety. They glanced around with terrified expressions on their faces as the world fell to pieces around them. "M-MARI? what's going on? why is everything breaking apart?" AUBREY whimpered and hugged her tightly.

MARI hugged her back, looking just as frightened. "I don't know, just stay close to me, everything is going to be okay!"

KEL, normally the fastest one of the group ran back to help HERO make it to the picnic blanket. It didn't help that HERO was extremely slow, gasping for breath as he ran alongside his brother. "C'mon HERO! we're almost there! just a little further…" KEL shouted and tugged harder on HERO'S sleeve. Another tremor shook the world around them causing Hero to lose his balance and fall, if it weren't for KEL grabbing on to his hand just in time.

"KEL no! you're just going to fall in too!" HERO shouted and struggled to climb upward.

But KEL held on to his older brother's hand, desperately trying his hardest to pull him up to him. "No! I'm not gonna leave you! I can do this! just let me…just get…up…" he heaved with all his might and was almost there when another quake shook the ground once more and causing the younger brother to lose his grip. Time seemed to slow down for KEL as HERO suddenly slipped out of his grasp.

"HERO!" everyone screamed as they watched him plummet into the nothingness and vanish out of sight.

Before anyone could mourn him, KEL had leapt off the edge after his older brother. But not before AUBREY had rushed out of MARI'S arms and grabbed KEL by the back of his shirt before he could join his brother. "Lemme go! I have to save HERO! I have to save my brother! please!" KEL screamed, kicking and struggling all the way back to the blanket with tears in his eyes. AUBREY shook her head and held him back. "And lose you too? we have to wait for OMORI to save us, he'll know what to do! he always does!" she cried.

The last thing anyone felt was a sudden wave of tiredness that swept over the group and put them into a deep slumber…

—

"…And we hung her to make it look like she committed suicide."

"I-I'm so sorry…I lied to you all..."

"A-a murderer like me doesn't deserve to be forgiven but…"

"After all we've been through…"

—

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BLACK SPACE

{Discarded}

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BASIL awoke on a black mat in a strange dark expanse as the tremors from above grew stronger. Places of familiar landmarks from all around HEADSPACE above were falling all around him.

"W-what's going o-on? where am I?" he said quietly, taking in his surroundings with a scared face.

What WAS happening? last thing he remembered was him being held in place by strange disembodied hands and then OMORI was standing in front of him, knife in his hand while the strange RED HANDS holding him in place loosened their grip…a sharp pain, a feeling of betrayal…and then nothing but cold silence...

And that was it...now he was here and that memory had already begun to fade from his mind, was he imagining things? he could have sworn he had something important to tell everyone...SOMETHING about MARI, but he couldn't remember what it was anymore. Almost like...he didn't need to know.

BASIL sighed and placed his hands on his hips, frowning. "I was going to see my friends today! but I can't do that if I'm in some weird abyss, and why is everything falling apart?" he wondered aloud and slowly stood up from the cold floor.

...

Around the black rug, numerous STRANGERS were looking at the sky watching everything fall around them.

"The Dreamer has found the strength to confront Truth at long last." One of them said.

"The end of this world is upon us, as it should be." another whispered quietly.

"The Dreamer's Vessel has lost his control over us…over HEADSPACE..." a third spoke.

"…And soon all of this…this cycle…shall be no more." they all said in unison.

BASIL spotted familiar shapes of the colorful world above him start to fade and melt into nothing like they were made of melting ice. The shadows grow closer and closer all around until the darkness began to feel suffocating. BASIL felt an intense sense of dread washing over him and an urge to run...

[BASIL became AFRAID]

BASIL fled from the darkness as fast as his legs could carry him. But he could feel himself becoming lightheaded and drowsy the more he ran. Unable to stay awake any longer he stumbled to the ground and lost consciousness once again…falling into a endless abyss as HEADSPACE ceased to be...

—-

"Can you forgive me after all I've done?"

—

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{}Everything is going to be okay...{}

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A week later after the Truth in a Nearby city...

It was late at night when they broke into the apartment through the window of Sunny's meager room. Two masked men and a woman silently walked around Sunny's bed while he slept and surrounded it. Before Sunny could fully wake up, a bag was stuffed over his head and he was injected with some kind of tranquilizer, putting him to sleep once more. While the men hauled Sunny's unconscious body out the window as quietly as they could, the woman brought in another boy who looked exactly like Sunny and carefully placed him in the bed. The woman left with the others just as the lights in the hallway turned on and the door to Sunny's room creaked open, Sunny's mother having come to check on her son.

"Sunny? are you having a nightmare again?" Mrs. Suzuki said with a concerned tone.

Not-Sunny sat up and looked at her, nodded silently. "I am fine now mom, just a bad dream." it said in a dull almost robotic voice.

Mrs. Suzuki breathed a sigh of relief and smiled. "Oh that's good, well good night Sunny, I love you and I'll be here for you if you need me."

Sunny's mom turned out the lights and returned to her bedroom, never really noticing that the Sunny in bed had two eyes instead of one...

Tomorrow is another day

Good night

[heir-of-the-earth-official]

Heir of the Earth lore - the creation siblings

When the universe sprung to life from nothing and the stars were born there was terrible loneliness. The stars cried for eons, no one could keep them company or sort their chaos.

The stars' birth was powerful, too powerful. There was too much energy left after their creation and yet no one there to take it all away. So the stars banded together and used their excess energy to make three heavenly beings.

These beings were siblings and each had a task within the universe. The youngest was the light of the stars, he was meant to create life and preserve it. He was able to gift life and power but couldn't take it away. Taking life was his elder brother's task, he was born from the shadows of the universe. He was meant to guide the dead into the afterlife.

To prevent the brothers from fighting there was a third sibling. The eldest was tasked with keeping her younger brothers in balance. There shall never be an abundance of life or an abundance of death.

With their creation the stars stopped crying and were content. The eldest did more than keep balance between her brothers; she also kept the stars in balance. Her presence meant peace. She was capable of creation and destruction much like her brothers. With her guidance the lives her youngest brother created weren't completely destroyed when the elder brother took them.

She created a cycle of reincarnation as well as a place for the heavy souls that aren't redeemable and a place for those too pure to reincarnate.

The siblings resided between these pure souls, surrounding themselves with light to remember their task. For eons they went about life like this. An eternal cycle of peace, creation, death and reincarnation. Not once was there a disturbance to this and happiness was abundant.

The eldest sister created seven dragons to watch over the earth. She had a whole universe to oversee and the dragons would help protect people.

The dragons offered protection and guidance but could not stop the conflicts between people. So they asked their gods for help. The youngest advised to unite people in one place so that they may love each other the way they love the dragons and their gods. The elder brother advised that the dragons should put up barriers so that the people may never cross paths. The eldest disagreed with both, she saw conflict in both options.

So she told the dragons to teach the people the way of their element so that they may experience joy from it. She hoped that sharing their divinity would cease the fights and make people more inclined to seek peace.

With their god's task the dragons set back out and did as their goddess told them. Soon after people started developing elemental skills corresponding to their homeland's dragon. The goddess waited with baited breath as her brothers chastised her for not listening to them. She hoped that her plan would work and luckily it did.

The youngest saw that his sister knew better than him and dropped his anger. He wanted to learn how she had become so wise so he could be just as wise as her. His wish was to use his powers in the best way possible.

His elder brother wasn't as keen on being wrong as the youngest, frustration brewed in the god. Not only was he not heard but he ended up looking like a fool. Talking to his sister only frustrated him more, she knew better than him and he was made aware of that. By nature she was meant to keep him in line and be better than the god of destruction. Over centuries the anger and frustration grew bigger and the god grew more hostile.

His hostility interfered with his job and he took the youngest's creations in more and more painful ways. The eldest saw this senseless cruelty and sealed her brother away for thousand years. She hoped this punishment would calm her brother and make him return to his duties as a changed man. When the goddess released her younger brother he was cold to her, he did not speak a word for over 700 years. Fulfilling his duties as his sister instructed while the rage silently brewed inside.

The youngest realized that his elder brother was just as angry as before, just in a different way. So the young god sought out his sister, he wanted to find a way to restore peace in his brother's heart. While the elder brother was sealed away, the youngest had to take on more responsibilities and grow up. He gained maturity and became wiser than before. He may have aimed to become like his sister but ended up carving his own path. Unlike the eldest, the youngest loved to walk and play amongst his creations. He not once saw himself as better than them or like a divine authority. Rather he saw himself and his creations as life born from the heavens and reunited on the grassy earth.

While speaking with the eldest he decided that it may be good for his elder brother to see the beauty of the results of their labor. Taking his brother down to earth proved fruitful. The elder brother saw how people danced and laughed. He saw how excited they became when the gods descended onto earth. They loved him. They loved him. Oh how lovely that felt. The people loved him unconditionally and never questioned him. They adored everything he did. So soon enough the god of destruction descended onto earth without his younger brother. And the people still loved him. So he knew that their love wasn't bound to his younger brother, how nice that felt.

The god started building settlements on earth where his admirers could conjure. The people loved that their god provided a place of worship for them, the youngest hadn't done that and they had never even seen the goddess.

That goddess grew displeased with her brother once more. She had him brought back to the heavens to talk sense into him. The siblings started fighting with each other, the youngest tried to settle their argument but it only escalated further. The elder brother left the heavens to be with his worshippers which caused the goddess to burst with anger. She commanded every angel, demon, dragon and person to drag her brother back into the heavens.

She was filled with so much anger and hatred that even the youngest became frightened. He sought his younger brother in his commune where the god was not only living amongst people but copulating with them for his entertainment.

The youngest was shocked, never had he thought that his divine brother would lay with a mortal. The elder one had never been too fond of the life the youngest created and now he was intimate with them instead of fulfilling his task.

The young god tried to talk sense into his older brother but was rejected. The elder brother had no desire to return unless he was undeniably needed. Frustrated the youngest returned to the heavens to speak to his sister. The goddess was equally frustrated and for the first time since their creation thousands of years ago the goddess descended from the heavens.

Her presence was felt all over the earth, all life shook with fear as they waited for what the goddess may do.

When the elder brother saw his sister again she seemed aged, he thought that her anger must've taken a toll on her. With a booming voice she commanded all people to leave the commune. The people feared the unknown goddess and what she may do, so they left their beloved god but took his teachings with them. The people hoped to spread his holiness elsewhere.

The eldest commanded her brother to return but he refused to leave. For the first time in her life the goddess used her power to hurt another being. Shocked and injured the elder brother lay on the dirt, looking into his sister's eyes he only saw hatred.

Sensing the danger that further revolt meant, the god complied and ascended back into the heavens. Back in the realm of the pure, the god of destruction felt out of place. There was nothing there for him, his lovers were in the communes on earth. He wanted to go back but his sister's wrath was not to be played with.

Tense centuries followed, the once close siblings grew apart. The youngest tried to maintain his bond with the eldest but her anger with their brother made it harder to keep up the happy facade. After around a thousand years of this mine field of emotions the goddess broke down. During her duties she collapsed and coughed up blood.

Doctors and healers tried to aid the goddess with her ailment. No ointment or spell ever worked and the all powerful goddess was now bedridden and dying. Calling for her brothers to say their goodbyes, she regretted not reconciling with the elder of the brothers and neglecting the younger.

Her last wish was for them to carry on peace and balance. Soon after the goddess died, no one ever knew what had been plaguing her. The youngest brother was heartbroken while the elder remained stoic.

Whispers say that behind closed doors something more nefarious happened to cause a god to die. Evil tongues cackle that the younger brother poisoned his sister to take her place and that he only pretended to be sad.

These evil words made their way to the elder brother; deeply displeased with this he banished his younger brother. Stripping him of his wings and taking his halo away as punishment for his crime. The younger brother was sent onto the earth like a comet crashing down. To lick his wounds clean the youngest traversed into the depths of hell where his creations were punished for their crimes. Bathing in the miasma of this underworld changed him, he took on more demonic features and banded the evil creatures under his rule. The king of hell was born, much to the dismay of the elder brother ruling the heavens.

Each brother tried to overthrow the other with their own armies. The peace their sister wished for never came, instead hundreds of years of war followed. The elder brother stopped caring for the people. He only protected those loyal to him. His younger brother however remained loving to all. This love allowed for alliances but no alliance was powerful enough to stop the fighting.

Their senseless wars only stopped when the realms were separated by a special woman. Her magic allowed her to limit the gods' reach. She payed with her life and soul. The woman was the first in eons to fully die with no way to ever live again.

The younger brother mourned her sacrifice while the other cursed her out.

For millennia after the end of the war earth was rather peaceful but people lived more separated than ever before. The dragons still watching over the earth were saddened by these developments and prayed to the stars above that a peacemaker be born to right the wrongs.

The stars never answered the prayers, they were too busy crying for their fallen child.

[imspardagus]

That sleep of death

For Esther

I remember my Mother’s dying. I could, if I tried hard enough, probably place it in time but even that would not be certain, because it was thirty years ago and it took five years. Five years of decline. Three years from when the doctors admitted that her cancer was inoperable to the morning when finally her body admitted defeat and allowed itself to shut down permanently.

I have written about this before, how, when my Mother discovered a lump in her breast she concealed it from everyone for a year. When it no longer remained possible to conceal it from my father, she swore him to secrecy, and he obeyed. Another year went by and by then it became incontrovertible that she needed medical help. That was when the doctors explained that they could defer the inevitable but they could not stop the spread of the cancer that had taken root inside her. And that is when she told the family.

My Mother’s reason for this concealment had been deeply rooted. She had a profound fear of, as she put it, “being mucked about with”. Her personal need for privacy overrode all other considerations. Who is to say she was wrong? But the irony, the cruel irony, was that her early decision to say and do nothing left her at the mercy of increasingly intrusive medical care for the remaining three years of what we must call her life.

She submitted to drug treatment and to radiation treatment and both took an enormous toll on her strength and her need to be in control. She did a great job of pretending to keep up, but the vivacity and the stamina were broken. She was only 67 when those final years began. She didn’t make 70.

By the final year, my Mother was bed-ridden, barely able to move or communicate, at the mercy of doctors and nurses (who were, I insist, wonderful in their care, but still…) for all the intimate needs that healthy folk take for granted. But she could not die. The powerful will to survive that was inside her, way out of reach, left her impotent in the most fundamental respect of being able to let go and slip away. She was a prisoner of her own failing body.

They put her on a morphine drip, to ease the inevitable pain that she was experiencing without choice. I recall at the end of one visit, the young doctor took me carefully through the mechanism of pain control. I can almost still hear his quiet and precise description of the way the drip operated and how it worked on the brain.

At the time I thought he was just being solicitous; with so little else to offer just making sure that I understood. He reached the end of his explanation and looked very directly at me as he warned me. If my Mother’s pain increased I could, by pressing this button, one or two times, increase the flow of morphine into her system which would ease her discomfort. But I must be very careful, I needed to understand, not to press the button too often because if I did she would pass beyond pain and would die.

He looked at me then very hard as if to check that his meaning had been got over. I recall feeling a little confused and uncomfortable but I was used to setting others at their ease so I just nodded. He collected his things and departed.

It was only after my Mother died, several months later, that it dawned on me that the doctor was giving me instruction not as to how to preserve her life for longer but as to how to release her from her ordeal. If I had realised that, I swear I would have delivered that release. And done so in good conscience. My Mother, who had been so alive and so strong for us, had lost everything that mattered to her and that merited respect as human life and there was no way back. She deserved peace but it was now beyond her to grasp it. It was not beyond me to bring it to her. But I, lacking the wit and imagination, did nothing.

One morning, after breakfast, I went in to sit with her. I knew that she could no longer even blink her eyes in recognition of my presence and I did not know whether she could hear me or whether anything I said meant anything to her. But it had become my habit to try, just in case.

As I approached the bed she seemed, if it were possible, more than usually still. I took her hand. It was cold and limp. I called my father and together we confirmed that at last she had gone. He went to call the doctor. I stayed with her.

My beautiful Mother, reduced to a pathetic husk by a voracious cancer, reduced to a parody of life. Now finally free.

And I wished I could have helped her make that final journey. More than anything, I wished that.

[wushigod]

The Israeli military announced Friday that it has recovered the bodies of three hostages from the Gaza Strip. The hostages were identified as Shani Louk, Amit Bouskila, and Itshak Gelernter, IDF spokesperson Rear Admiral Daniel Hagari said in a press conference in Tel Aviv. All three were taken hostage on October 7 and were killed while escaping the Nova music festival and their bodies taken into Gaza, the IDF said. “They were celebrating life in the Nova music festival and they were murdered by Hamas,” he said. The bodies were identified by authorities and the families have been informed, Hagari said, adding that the bodies had been transferred to medical professionals for forensic examination. Hagari did not disclose where the bodies were found during the press conference. He said the bodies were recovered during a joint IDF and Shin Bet operation. CNN analyst and Axios reporter Barak Ravid, citing an IDF spokesperson, reported the bodies were found in a tunnel in Gaza. Nissim Louk, father of Shani Louk whose body was one of those recovered also told Israeli media his daughter’s body was very well preserved because it had been kept in a “deep and very cold tunnel”. Israeli Prime Minister Benjamin Netanyahu expressed his grief in a post on X on Friday. “The heart breaks for the great loss. My wife Sara and I grieve with the families. All our hearts are with them in this hour of grieving,” he said. “We will return all our hostages, the dead and the alive alike. I congratulate our brave forces who, with determined action, have returned our sons and daughters home,” he added. Of the three hostages, only Louk had previously been confirmed dead by the Israeli government. The 23-year-old German-Israeli woman was declared dead by the Israeli Ministry of Foreign Affairs in late October. A source involved with her identification told CNN Louk’s death was announced after forensic examiners found a bone fragment from her skull. Her lifeless body was seen on video on the back of a Hamas truck after the music festival attack. Louk’s family said they feel some closure now that her body has been recovered. In a statement given to CNN, the family said the IDF came to their house on Friday and informed them that they were able to rescue Louk’s body from a tunnel in Gaza and bring her back to Israel. “Every news like this brings us back to the horrific moment we had to find out that our loving daughter was brutally murdered by Hamas on the 7th of October. However, it is also a relief to get the body back and we are now able to bury her close by. It gives us some kind of closure,” the family said. “We want to remember Shani as the beautiful and peace-loving person she was, who loved music, dancing and life. She brought us and many other people in the world light and the belief in good. This is how we choose to remember Shani,” the statement added. Around 240 people were taken hostage and moved to Gaza during Hamas’ October 7 attack on Israel that also killed more than 1,200 people. A little more than 100 were freed during a release deal in November, but the IDF believes there are still 132 hostages being held in Gaza, 128 of whom were taken on October 7. The IDF believed that of those 132 hostages, 40 are believed to be dead, including two who were taken in 2014. A deal to secure the release of the remaining hostages has remained elusive for months, despite rounds of talks between Israeli and Hamas negotiating teams. Last Friday, Hamas militants said Israel’s rejection of a ceasefire plan submitted by mediators at negotiations in Cairo had sent hostage release talks back to “square one.” The statement came a day after the latest round of Gaza truce and hostage deal talks ended in Cairo, without a deal. The militant group also accused Netanyahu of hindering the ceasefire talks, so as to use negotiations as a cover to attack the southern Gaza city of Rafah.

[honortodth]

❝ Careful, now. A gentle touch is best at this juncture. ❞

There's a small nod at Justinia's direction; in part due to his concentration on the body before him, another due to the now seven months that Feanor has remained silent. In truth, he did not miss talking, did not mind the absence of his own voice rattling between his ears. It seemed unnecessary, as if it were merely an obstacle in the way of his duties. Or perhaps it was simply an offering to Kelemvor in the hopes that he may see fit to bless him. Yes, take my voice, Lord of the Dead, for it is the least I can humbly offer after all that I've done.

The fragrant scent of thyme, lavender, and rosemary fills his nose as he opens the jars sat just next to him. Almost covers the smell of blood and viscera in the room if not for their lingering in his nasal cavity. He begins to fill the cavities he's made ( having removed organs and sluiced out the blood ) in the body before him with these herbs, a process meant to dry the body out and hopefully produce a more pleasant aroma than, well, death.

There's a brief moment that Feanor risks a glimpse of the deceased's face, eyes forever shut. The ashen face, devoid now of life and light, looks however to be at peace. An old man that had passed in his sleep ... a fate not granted to his parents. To Iriel. He falters, fingers coming to a stop. Blood fills his vision. Palms begin to sweat. The sickly sweet odor filling the room seems to permeate his skin. He's a boy again and there's blood covering the floor of his home. He's a boy again and they're dead.

❝ You can do this, dear. Take a moment. ❞

A fuzzy, lightheaded feeling itches at the corners of his brain and snaps him out of the memory. He's grown used to her using detect thoughts on him, welcomes the interruption in fact.

❝ Focus only on the body in front of you. ❞

I ... yes. I'm trying.

Her piercing golden eyes are gentle, understanding, but look at him as if to say ' try harder '. She was right, of course --- one wrong move and the body can't be properly preserved. Many times has he observed the process, seen how meticulously Justinia drains the bodies and how swiftly she fills and wraps them. A macabre artist at work. The embalming tools her paintbrush.

He closes his eyes, licks his lips and attempts to center himself. The horror of his mind's eye fades like the wafting away of smoke and he's able to finish. She joins him in wrapping the body in cerecloth, sealing it with beeswax. The final step in his work.

Thank you. For bringing me back.

She smiles, ❝ I know how easy it is to be lost in your memories, Feanor. Alone with death. Just see that they do not swallow you whole. ❞ A loving hand touches his shoulder, a hand as gentle as he remembers his mother's being, ❝ But if they do, know that I will be here to pull you out, dear. ❞

At the back of his mind, he wonders for how long.

[sadnesslaughs]

You are a lich who, in an attempt to escape the hero, managed to telekinetically throw yourself into space and landed on the moon. After countless years, you’ve managed to create a comfortable life for yourself, only for a space shuttle and some astronauts to land nearby and plant a flag.

(A writing prompt response.)

In a vain attempt at self-preservation, I doomed myself to a lonely fate, blasting myself into space, landing on the moon. At first, I seethed, cursing the hero with all my might. How I would have loved to drag the hero with me, hold their neck as they suffocated before me. Watch them flail and try to scream as the life faded from their eyes. Though, with each passing year, my hatred faded. The hero would have died long ago and my grudge died with them. It’s hard to hate a dead man.

The moon became my home, and I did my best to make it comfortable. While I missed the comforts of a good book or even the aroma of a patch of flowers, I found other beauty to admire. I spent my days voyaging around the rock, finding a pleasant spot to sit and stare at the Earth, in awe of the fantastic nature of it all.

“Marvelous. A place of life and death, that turns even when the greatest people fade. I’m starting to see why you liked the place, hero. I think I liked it too at some stage, before I lost myself.” I stared at my boney hand, feeling a hit of melancholy, grieving something I longed to remember.

Then they arrived, a strange sight that mesmerized me. People on my rock? The shuttle disturbed the ground, sending dust floating away while I stood on and watched. How long had it been since I saw a human? Instantly I had the desire to control them, wanting to flee this cursed place. My left hand gripped my right, steadying it, stopping me from doing something I would regret.

Two figures emerged, both dressed in white spacesuits. They carried with them a flag of little importance. The symbols on it foreign to me, belonging to a group or leader on Earth. The figures descent down the stairs slowed when they saw me staring at them. One could only imagine what they were thinking. The pair seeing a skeleton staring at them, my green glowing eyes locked on the group, watching them hesitate.

I motioned them off the stairs, pointing towards myself. I had no intention of hurting them, at least not until I knew why they were here. They looked at one another before proceeding down the stairs, landing across from me. If I had skin, I would have smiled. Instead, I gave them a wave, trying not to show any hostilities.

“Hello, mortals.” I greeted.

They didn’t hear me, and I couldn’t hear them. When I learned talking was pointless, I moved aside and sat on the stairs, allowing them to do whatever they came to do in peace. They were wary of me, constantly looking over their shoulders. After a few minutes, that wariness faded, the two planting the flag while I watched, surprised to see how far humanity had come. When it came time for them to leave, I left the stairs, standing in front of their vessel. One of them paused before rushing up the stairs, finding a helmet and passing it to me. They motioned me to put it on and when I did; I heard a female’s voice.

“You’re actually real, aren’t you?”

“As real as any other creature. Why are you here, mortal?”

“To place a new flag on the moon. We also had to gather some samples.” She waved a small see through bag towards me, showing me a collection of small rocks gathered inside it. “Neat, right?”

“It is. What are your names?”

“I’m Luna, he’s Eric.”

“Don’t tell him my name. He might curse me.” Eric hissed, keeping his distance from me. He had better survival instincts than Luna. If I hadn’t spent so many years alone, I may have cursed them.

“Lighten up. Curses aren’t real. You sound like my great grandpa, Fredrick.”

“Fredrick?” That name sparked my attention. Hadn’t someone referred to the hero by that same name? I stood up, trying to peer into her helmet, unable to see anything but my own decayed face. She didn’t back away when I neared, allowing me to sate my curiosity.

“Yeah, he was a big deal, apparently. Said he got rid of a great monster or something like that. He must have been an author with the stories he made up. Also kept telling people to stay away from the moon. That’s why I wanted to explore it. I wanted to see if there actually was a monster up there.” As she said that, the realization set in, causing her to back up.

“Please tell me you're joking, Luna. Why didn’t you mention that before?” Eric tried to move towards the ship, only to realize I was blocking it. If he wanted to get on the ship, he would have to pass me. Noticing his dilemma, I stepped aside.

“He was a strange man, your great grandfather. Most people would crumble when they find themselves against unbeatable odds. Frederick instead thrived, working best when his back was against the wall. He forced me to defeat myself, banishing myself to this lonely place. Heh, it’s funny that of all people, his great granddaughter would give me a chance of returning to Earth.”

“Like hell I’m going to let you return.” That fire in her words made me laugh, like a recording of Frederick himself. Eric had already fled into the confines of the ship, leaving me and Luna to have a standoff.

“How would you stop me? You have no powers.”

“I would tackle you and let Eric escape.”

I laughed again. So careless and defiant, Frederick lived on. “You can’t keep me down for long. Without powers, you’re as good as dead. Still, I’ve lost my interest in destruction and death. Theres a beauty to the Earth that I couldn’t see while I was there.”

“There is, isn’t there?” We both stopped, staring at the Earth, admiring it in silence. If it wasn’t for Eric, we would have stood there for hours. When his voice called Luna back to the ship, we both snapped out of our stupor.

“You should go.”

“Do you want to come?” Luna offered.

“No, no, no! How would we even explain that to anyone? He’s better off staying here.” Eric said, fearing me as any normal human should.

“I suspect my place isn’t on the Earth anymore. At least not at the moment. Maybe some day I’ll return. For now, I wish to stare a little longer.” Before she left, I stopped her, asking her a question. “Do you think there’s anything left of me?” I asked, gazing at Luna.

“Anything left?”

“Of what I was before this. A human.”

“In great grandpa’s journal, he mentioned you appeared troubled. You’re not as much of a monster as you like to think you are.” She smiled, offering me her hand to shake. I reached up and shook it, feeling another touch of nostalgia as I watched her leave. As the ship took off, I saw her face in the window, those bright green eyes staring at me before she went to her seat. She even had those same green eyes.

[grislyintentions]

"A warning repeated more than necessary would start to be perceived as something held as leverage over another. I wish for us to be able to communicate without the presence of threats or ultimatums present in each conversation we hold."

Overzealous with his accusations? That is a severe understatement at best with how damaging his conduct truly was to her. But acknowledging the flaws in his approach is a step in the right direction at the very least. It does make it easier to comprehend her own.

Purple eyes held an intense gaze as the archon narrows them at the deity, as if she intends to peer into the very fabric of his being to ascertain any hidden jab he may be trying to get across. When Ei could read none nor think of any reason that would make him do so, she elects to believe his congratulations was genuine.

"I can see why you would assume so. It is a drastic adjustment, likely to how you once remembered. I will endeavor to be more patient with your readjustment to me in these present times."

After all, based on what Neka has disclosed, he had only just been able to break out of the confines. To expect him to catch up with everything else, including herself, in such a short time would be impossible. With that given perspective, she can at least understand his hostility and wariness towards her decision making.

Talk? Vent? The concept of doing so with anyone is almost impossible to picture for someone like Ei. No, why would she allow anyone else the potential to weaponise her vulnerabilities? Talking about it simply only transfers her pain to others. All that she has underwent in the time of war, she went through alone. The archon saw no reason to change that.

"...I appreciate the offer. I will think on it." Even with an apology, things are still too raw on her part to fully mull it over. Nevertheless, Ei does not outright reject his offer, merely accepting the extended grace to be able to think it over at a later date.

A heavy sigh slips from her when discussing both their loss of her sister. It is abundantly clear to Ei that Makoto's death has left quite the impact on them both. At the very least, she can be glad someone else out there will remember and cement her existence, thus preventing Makoto from a fate of fading into the shadows. Ironic how in her death, their roles were effectively reversed.

"It was supposed to be me," her voice is quiet as though it were an awful truth uttered. "I was the one who should have died in her stead that day."

Given the choice, Ei would have still wished it was herself that rode onto that battlefield instead. It was her responsibility. It was her duty to do so.

"You did not fail my sister. You did what she asked for in her last moments and granted her the peace of mind she needed." The archon shook her head lightly. "You need not feel guilt over what you were unable to stop. She would have found a way to enact her plans regardless."

There was no feasible way they would have been able to get off on the 'right foot' in an earlier point in time. Not when they were both freshly healing and doing what they could to preserve life and safety. And while it has been a struggle to get to this point, Ei is at least aware that they can now understand how their perspective on one another was shaped.

"It is not the sharpness of your words that affect me; more so how you disregard boundaries and play indirect guessing games to punish me further for not understanding. I know now that a large part of it wasn't born from malice...but I would like to communicate that I am serious about ascertaining the best steps forward for Inazuma. And I could use...advice given as an equal with no pretense or roundabout implications in future."

Tension fills the air in the wake of her statement, lingering longer before Ei reaches out, brushing her fingers over his own. She seems hesitant to hold it, concerned with whether that would aggravate his condition and therefore pain. Hence, Ei decides on a compromise by curving her palm inward in a loose hold so that the other could decide if it was alright for her to hold his hand properly. "What will you ask of me to be mindful of in return?"

@nekasu

[catboirights]

Having another one of my famous svamp mental illness moments

[marshmallow-rainbow139]

My Dirty Hands (Armin Arlet x Annie Leonhart)

Summary: Armin notices something is bothering Annie

Genre: Angst, Hurt with comfort, fluff

Trigger warning: Pregnancy and mention of death

Pairing: Armin Arlert x Annie Leonhart

Word Count: 3,182

“Do you have a pad?” Pieck asked.

“No.” Annie answered.

The question triggered something in Annie’s mind.

She quickly did the math.

“You look white. Like this piece of paper.” Pieck commented holding up a piece of paper.

Annie opened her mouth to reply but she couldn’t get any words out.

“Annie.” Pieck started, calmly. “When was your last period?”

“Hum…” Annie swallowed hard. “Two months ago.” After saying that outloud, Annie put her face agaist her hands and let out a mubled, “Fuck!”

…

Armin and Annie talked about what they wanted in life the moment they started dating, now that they didn't have to worry about the curse of Ymir. Their goal in life was simple: to preserve the peace and keep the Eldians safe.

When they got to the subject of family and having children, there was some hesitation. When they inherit their Titans, they accept the fact that they will never be able to have a family or live a normal life due to their short lifespan. Now that they are curse-free, they have all the time in the world to do whatever they want, but they must contend with how unpredictable things can be and a world that still despises them.

They mutually decided against having children. Armin made his decision because he was concerned about potential danger and retribution. Annie's was due to the guilt she felt for taking so many lives. Of the blood that she still feels clinging to her hands.

Annie and Armin married one another and promised to devote their lives to one another. They are happy. They are a team. And they are content to be alone in their large apartment, drinking the finest wine they have on hand and slow dancing to the music from phonograph.

But... the human being still wants more. Still yearns for more.

Annie could tell that Armin was having doubts about his decision to not have children. She notices that when he looks at other children of various ages. When he tenderly holds Jean and Mikasa’s son. When he kneels in front of a child and patiently explains to them what this is and what that is.

When he noticed Annie looking at him when he did those things, his gentle smile would disappear. He would blush and look away, embarrassed.

Every time she saw that, she felt her heart get heavier with guilt.

Guilt because she felt like she was taking something from Armin. Stealing his youth. Stealing the years he could have had with someone who actually wanted what he wanted. Because Annie knew that to despise whatever fear and anxieties he had, he would find a way to make things better. He is the first ray of light that hits the dark day.

He’s just not saying anything because he respects her choice. He was the first man who let her make decisions for herself and her own life.

There was a moment in the middle of their love making when, right before he inserts himself on her, he stops and goes for the drawer where the condoms are. She wanted to grab his wrist and stop him. She wanted to look into his eyes and say: “Do me raw. Put a baby in me.”

But she didn’t do anything because she was a coward and she felt unworthy. She clutched the sheets in order to restrain herself and closed her eyes. And she kept her eyes closed throughout their love-making session, but she still clung to him like she always did in their intimate moments.

The nightmare she had that night reminded her of her sins.

Once again, Marco Bodt’s voice came back to remind her of her wrong doings. She'd met a lot of people in her life, but the look on his face is one she'll never forget, no matter how hard she tries. She will remember his freckled cheeks covered in tears and his pleas for help.

She woke up screaming. Armin pulled her to his chest.

“It’s okay!” He said, rocking her like she was a baby. “You’re safe. I’m here.”

She sobbed and fell asleep with tears still running down her face.

Armin didn’t try to pry any information from her. He just offered his shoulder to cry on. He too had his fair share of nightmares that he didn’t want to talk about.

…

She left the office earlier after asking Pieck to make some excuse and promising that she wouldn’t tell anyone, especially Armin, about their conversation.

Pieck just gave her a sympathising look and agreed.

If she had been thinking straight, she would have gone directly to a doctor's office to confirm her suspicion. She’s an ambassador, and she has priority and contacts. But her mind was so full of anxiety that she decided to go home.

When she got home, she sat on the couch and did nothing.

She kept thinking about how this happened. When was she so careless? When were they so careless?

That day on the beach.

Annie groaned at the memory. Of her in a new bikini. Going for a swim. And putting herself on top of Armin and making love to him under the hot sun that, along with Armin’s hot skin, warmed her wet and cold body.

20 minutes of pleasure and 2 months later, a huge headache.

…

During dinner time, she lets Armin guide the conversation for the night.

She half listened. Something about a meeting.

She’s waiting for him to make a comment about her silence or about how she left work earlier. But he doesn’t, probably to stress about work. That makes her relieved and irritated at the same time.

After dinner, she took a quick shower, and it was when the hot water rained down her body that she started to notice the differences. Her breasts look fuller and her nipples feel sensitive. With the sponge going over her body, she could feel the curve of a bump. It was small, but it felt big. She didn’t look down. She just kept staring forward, too ashamed and in denial to look down.

In bed, Armin tries to get intimate with her. But she quickly rejects him by saying she just took a shower. He, being the gentleman that he is, respects that and kisses her forehead.

“Night, Annie Bear.” He says that before turning off the light and pulling the covers up.

That stupid nickname, the one that made her threaten him with torture and death if he ever said that in front of their friends, made her smile for the first time today.

When she is sure he has fallen asleep, she moves the covers down to her waist and lifts her nightgown just enough to expose her belly. Gingerly, she lifts her hand and runs her fingers through her belly, as if she were a child petting a cat after being told to do it gently.

With the sponge, she couldn’t feel anything, but now with her bare hands, she can feel a hard bump. The kind of one that she would feel a week before her period starts or when she eats too much.

She doesn’t know how long she's been feeling her belly, but when she sees Armin’s arm appear on top of it, she almost lets out a yelp. She looks at him and is relieved to see him still asleep peacefully, oblivious to his wife’s anxiety and worries.

She looks down again and sees his hand is placed next to the bump. If she turned on her side, he could cup it entirely in his hand. Annie kind of wants to do it and know what it feels like.

She lets out a heavy sigh and carefully removes Armin’s arm from her. She slowly gets up from the bed and tip-toes her way to the bathroom.

She sits on the toilet in the bathroom and quietly sobs. She grabs her face in order to muffle her sobs. Her entire body trembles. Her nails dig into her face's skin. She takes deep breaths through her nose. She'd never felt so terrified in her life. She'd never felt so scared and confused in her life.

Because no matter what she thinks and what her decisions are, she wants this baby. She wants the thing she was denied by Marley. She wants a family with the man she loves.

But how can she be a mother after all the horrendous things she has done.

How could she hold her child with her blood-covered hands?

How is she going to look her child in the eyes and explain the horrible things she's done after they've discovered what a monster their mother is?

She goes back to bed after an hour. Armin is still sleeping, facing away from her. She crawls under the covers and embraces him from behind. She buries her nose in his back and inhales his scent.

"I love you." She whispers into the dark.

…

For a week, Armin started noticing that something was different with Annie.

She seemed more closed than before. She was always the quiet one in their relationship. Usually letting Armin rant non-stop and only letting out a few quips here and there, lately she doesn’t say anything. She just stays quiet and looks like she’s stuck in her own little world.

Armin tried to ask if everything was alright, but she always said she was tired or distracted, but Armin knew she was hiding something and she wasn’t ready to tell him.

One day, he tried to ask Pieck if she knew what was making Annie so distant.

The former Cart Titan user only looked at him with a sort of amused look and said to him. “It’s not up to me to say what’s happening to Annie; it’s her.” That left Armin more confused and a little frustrated, now knowing that Annie was definitely hiding something from him.

He decided to ask her one more time, in the most calm and gentle way possible.

Armin managed to leave work early, and before he got home, he passed by a florist and bought a small bouquet of baby breaths. He knew Annie would blush a little bit because of the gift.

“I’m home.” He said when he opened the door.

“Welcome back,” Annie said from the kitchen.

Armin went inside the kitchen. Annie was sitting at the kitchen table drinking tea.

“Hey, you're home early.”

“Yeah! I wanted to surprise you. Here! This is for you!” Armin said, presenting Annie with the flower bouquet, and just as he predicted, Annie looked away and blushed.

“Thank you.”

She got up from her seat and grabbed the bouquet.

She went to the kitchen counter and started preparing a glass of water so that the flowers wouldn’t die quickly.

“So… I talked to Pieck today.” Armin started.

“Oh? What were you talking about?” Annie said she was not looking at him; she was more focused on adjusting the flowers in the glass of water.

Armin approached Annie and stood behind her, but he was an arm's length away from her so that she wouldn’t feel that he was invading her private space.

“We talked about you.”

That made Annie tense up and pause her hands.

She looked over his shoulder and gave Armin a look that years ago would have made him feel intimidated and scared.

“What did she tell you?” She asked.

Armin stood tall and held his head high.

“I asked her if everything was alright with you.”

“What makes you think something is wrong about me?”

“You seemed more distant and colder.”

“I was always like this.”

“I mean more than usual.”

Annie looked away from him and went back to adjusting the flowers.

Armin let out a sigh and approached her. He circled his arms around her waist and rested his cheek against her head.

“I just want you to know that I’m here to help you with whatever is bothering you.”

“Yeah?” She asked.

“Yeah. Isn’t that what husbands and wives do?” While he said that Armin’s palm rested against Annie’s stomach, that action made something inside Annie snap.

“Don't touch me there!” She shouted and released herself from Armin’s arms and got out of the kitchen.

Armin was shocked by her reaction and immediately felt bad for crossing the line.

“Annie! I’m sorry!” Armin said, rushing out of the kitchen to go to her.

He stepped into the hallway where Annie was there as well, standing still.

“Annie? Please tell me what’s wrong.” Armin begged. “I want to help. That’s what partners do.”

Annie looked over her shoulder and the look in her eyes was different than before. There was no coldness in her eyes; there was only confusion, fear, and anxiety.

“Do you want to know what’s wrong with me?” She said, fully turning herself towards him.

Armin nodded.

“Since when are you blind, Armin?” She started. “Did you not notice that I have been nauseous? That I barely have any appetite? That I look more pale than usual? That I've been wearing clothes that are two sizes too big? That my boobs are getting bigger? Or that I stopped being intimate with you in the past week?”

Armin was confused but after he started putting the pieces together, his eyes widened.

“Are you… pregnant?” Armin asked, his voice shaking.

Annie was shaking, her lip was quivering, and she looked away from him. That was enough confirmation for him.

Carefully, like she was a frightened animal, he approached her.

“Don’t come near me.” She whispered and still refused to look at him.

He ignored her. He put his arms around her and brought her to him. She tried to fight him, but at the same time, she wanted his warmth and comfort. She gave up her pathetic fight and buried her face in his chest and started crying.

“I’m sorry.” She whipped.

Armin shook his head and rubbed her back.

“No, it’s okay. You did nothing wrong.” He assured her.

How many times did he fantasize about having children with her?

How many times did he picture every child that he encountered as their own?

How many times did he scold himself for having those thoughts and planning on telling her that they should try for one after she specifically said she didn’t want to?

He wants to be happy with this news but how can he feel any positive feeling when she’s crying in his arms?

“Annie…” He started but couldn't say anything.

“I want it.” She started. I want this baby. Because it’s yours and I want to have the family that I have always wanted. But how can I?” She gripped his shirt tighter. “How can I hold my child with these hands?”

She pulled her face away from his chest and looked at him and Armin could feel his heart break because of her expression.

“How can I hold our baby after everything I have done?” She sniffed. Tears decorated her face, and her cheeks were red. “Tell me, Armin. Tell me how I’m going to hold our baby with my dirty hands.”

Armin was speechless.

The last time he had seen her look so defeated was when Commander Hange told her that Liberio was probably destroyed because of the rumbling.

Annie, feeling frustrated with Armin’s lack of response, almost dropped to her knees. Armin quickly grabbed and carried her bridal style to their bedroom.

He laid her down but when he started pulling away she gripped his shirt and pulled him to her.

“Don’t leave me, please!” She begged.

Armin laid beside her.

“I’m not going anywhere. I’m right here.”

He let her cry until she fell asleep due to exhaustion. He carefully detached himself from her and started removing her slippers. After doing the same thing to himself, he sat on the bed. He looked at her face and gently brushed the hair that was stuck to her forehead and kissed it.

He laid beside her and watched her sleep. After a while, his eyes start drifting to her stomach. Carefully, he pulled her shirt up to reveal her stomach. He could see a slight curve. He touched it and enjoyed the warm feeling of Annie’s skin.

He let out a heavy sigh and put his face near her stomach and kissed her bump.

“I’m sorry.” He said it. To his wife and unborn child.

The world was still a dangerous place, and they were bringing another soul into this unpredictable place. He put her shirt down and laid beside her once again. He put his hand underneath her shirt and put his palm flat against her stomach.

Armin fell into a dreamless sleep. When he woke up, it was already night and he still felt tired. His hand never left Annie’s stomach. He rubbed it with his thumb slowly.

He did that for a few minutes until he felt Annie touching his hand. That startled him, and he immediately removed his hands, remembering Annie didn’t react well the last time he touched it.

“Sorry.” He said.

Annie grabbed his hand and put it back against her stomach. “It’s okay, I want you to touch it. It makes me feel… relieved.”

They laid there in silence.

“How far along are you?” He asked, daring to break it.

“Around 11 weeks I think.”

Armin tries to remember everything he learned about pregnancy. 11 weeks is the first trimester, and if he remembers correctly, the baby is probably the size of a fig.

“Do you really want to keep it?” He asked her.

“Yeah. I really want to.” She takes a deep breath. “Only if you promise to never leave me and stay with me until the very end of it.”

He pulled her closer to him.

“For better, for worse, for richer, for poorer, in sickness and in health, to love and to cherish, till death do us part.”

Annie smiled. He was reciting their wedding vows.

“I’m not going anywhere.” He swore.

She hugged and held him tightly.

“We’re having a baby.” She said.

Armin smiled and kissed her head.

“We’re having a baby.” He repeated. “It’s going to be a girl.”

That last comment made Annie pull away from him and stare with an incredulous look.

“It barely has fingers and you already think you know the gender.”

Armin blushed and rubbed the back of his head.

“I don’t know. It’s just a gut feeling. Maybe I want a daughter as beautiful as you.”

“Hopefully she has your personality.”

“She’ll know how to throw a kick and read at the age of 7.”

“I’ll make sure that Reiner is the dummy for practice.”

“We’re going to have to tell the others soon.”

“Reiner will want to be the Godfather.”

“Mikasa will be the Godmother.”

Annie put her hand against his face.

“I love you.” She whispered.

“I love you too.” He said and kissed her.

They know that their road to parenthood is going to be difficult, but they will go through it together.

[stressedoutcanary]

Do You Ever Feel Like A Misfit (Everything Inside You Is Dark & Twisted)

Dick Grayson x Reader

Word Count: 3.5K (I don't know how tf that happened)

Warnings: Explicit language, Blood and Violence, lots of angst, Hurt/Comfort ✌

A/N: Guess who's back! Just for some context the reader is a magic user and her style is similar to that of Zatanna <3

•°•°•°•°

She’d have reasoned with herself that stealing from one of the most secure and heavily guarded safe-houses of a deranged sociopath was probably not the brightest idea she’s had all day. It never even made it on her to-do-list for the weekend, but here she was, running across rooftops, holding on to the stolen totem like her life depended on it, it probably did. The three assassins sent after her were no Lady Shiva or Talia Al Ghul but they weren’t exactly amateurs either. The deep cuts and two broken ribs she got from their earlier encounter were proof of that.

She glanced back and even though there was no sign of her would-be-killers she knew better than to assume they’d just let her be. They were sticking to the shadows, exploiting her blind spots. The only thing she was sure of was that they were still hot on her trail and would happily plunge a dagger into her back given the opportunity.

She was right. As of this moment she hated being right.

She caught the glint of the two sharp objects slicing through the air, hurtling towards her at full speed. A slight shift of her upper body was all she could manage as one of the daggers got embedded right into her scapula while the other one, fortunately so, whirled past her, slightly grazing her left hip. The impact of the blade on her shoulder made her lose what little balance she had left. Despite her best efforts, when the wounded shoulder made contact with the hard concrete, a loud, ear-piercing cry ripped out from her throat before she could push it back down.

Cursing under her breath she knew, she knew all she had were those few seconds of numbness and disorientation to get a grip and figure out her exit strategy. However, all her hopes started to sink as she saw one of the assassins come closer, appearing more of a blur than a person. Then again that was probably because of the nice, little concussion she got from her fall. The assassin walked over to her, unsheathed their sword and placed it right on her neck, blocking any and every way out.

“You were warned. The Demon’s Head does not tolerate treachery. We are here under his orders to bring back the totem along with the witch’s head; your head”

If she could, she would’ve rolled her eyes at the classic villainous dialogues thrown at her.

“Witch? Who’re you calling a witch Snow White? I’m clearly a sorceress, don’t they teach you the difference between the two in assassin school or something? Hell, I’d even let you call me an enchantress, though that name’s already been taken but you get my poin-” 

The remaining words died in her throat as the sword on her neck shifted slightly. She knew she had extremely poor self preservation skills considering she’s clearly been instigating the very person sent to kill her, but even she wasn’t dumb enough to keep talking when the tiniest movement on either part could result in her having a severed jugular or carotid. 

‘This is a pretty shitty way to die’ 

She thought back to how she used the last of her mystic energy to hide the totem away before her fall and how stupid that decision really was because now she could actually feel the agonizing pain coming from her shoulder. It started to spread throughout her back like wildfire, eyelids grew heavy against her wishes. Suddenly she felt really tired and the idea to close her eyes just felt so goddamn appealing. 

‘No (Y/N) that’s the blood loss talking. Blood loss doesn’t get to make decisions’, she mentally scolded herself, still not breaking her eye contact with the person standing above her.

“Give us what you stole and we shall grant you the mercy of a quick death.”

That made her raise an eyebrow, “Ah, lemme think...the correct response here would be…”, she hummed, making a show of how hard she was thinking about the offer she was granted, “How about a fuck you? How would that do for you?”, she gave them a vicious grin, it was all teeth.  They probably weren’t impressed by her response and it showed.

She knew there was no way out but she had promised herself once that if she were to die, that if she ever goes out, she’d be anything but a whimpering and sobbing mess. She was scared shitless, more so than she’d ever been while fending off the league, she won’t deny that but she would rather die than let them know that.  ‘Well at least I got that ‘rather die’ part down to a T.’ she thought, eyeing the sharpness of the blade which was now raised up in the air

She felt bad for just giving up the way she did. Her whole life she was told to fight her way through the impossible, to attain the strength rivaling that of Zatanna Zatara, John Constantine and Doctor Fate himself. To be better than them, and there she was lying on the ground limp as a sword came down on her throat; all for a silly necklace. She would’ve huffed out a laugh if only her ribs weren’t broken, if only her body wasn’t screaming in pain, if only she had a way out. She didn’t. She was too tired, too drained, too numb to do anything else. Closing her eyes she stopped fighting, she let her growing unconsciousness claim her.

‘This is what you deserve anyway’, her barely there conscience remarked.

‘Fuck you too.’ she replied.

Everything went pitch black. The darkness encompassing her was peaceful, unlike the pain she had felt before. It was nice for a change. It sounded pathetic  but she couldn’t bring herself to care.

•°•°

 When she came to, the first thing she observed was the feeling of something soft against her back, next was a dull rhythmic sound which she realized was her own heartbeat. Though opening her eyes was a tiring task. It shouldn’t have been, but it was. She used all the energy she had into it and her eyelids fluttered open. She stared at the white ceiling and stayed like that for a few seconds; a few minutes? She couldn’t tell, but the pain was back now, not too much but enough to tell her it was there, to tell she was still alive.

She saw something shift in her peripheral vision and her body instinctively went stiff. Her mind which was blank before now ran in all directions.

‘Could be Ra’s Al Ghul… Could be worse’, she tried not to think about the worst case scenario, but she knew she had pissed off a lot of beings, beings far more powerful and far crueler than Ra’s himself. An involuntary shudder passed through her at the thought. That must’ve caught her captor’s attention as she felt the person move closer to her. Begrudgingly, she tore her gaze from the spot on the ceiling which she had been staring at this whole time and tilted her head. The man in black and blue who appeared, was probably the last person she had expected to see.

“Nightwing…”

Her voice was barely above a whisper and the hoarseness with which it came out it took her by surprise, but her body visibly relaxed at the sight of the familiar figure, at the sight of someone who would never hurt her.  

She watched him pull out a chair from the desk nearby. He sat next to the bed she was lying on and gave her a soft smile, a smile that spelled one word ‘relieve’. She remembered how when she first met him two years ago, she found that particular smile extremely annoying, she had no reason to, but she did. What she couldn’t remember was when she had grown so fond of it.

“How do you feel?”

“Like shit.”

He snorted a laugh which made her pout. She was planning to point out how he was being mean; laughing at her when her response truly defined the way she was feeling, but any words she thought of were cut off by the change in his expression. His smile faltered, lips were now pressed in a thin line, face contorted in a way which showed his genuine concern.

“This is the second time, this week.”

That you almost died, he didn’t say. That I had to save you and bring you back from the clutches of death, he didn’t say.

“I know.”

“That doesn’t make it better.”

“I know.”

The silence that settled, stretched far too long for comfort, but she wasn’t going to be the one to break it. She wanted to, but there was nothing she could say, that would make it better. Nightwing ran his fingers through the locks of hair, burying his face in his hands.

For the first time since she woke up, she took in his appearance, he looked disheveled,  his suit was torn in different places along visible faint cuts, most likely he got them when he rescued her. She felt a pang of guilt rising in her chest. He risked his life for her, she knew he had done it before, she didn’t get it then and she didn’t get it now. Why would someone do that? Why would he? She was pulled back from her spiraling thoughts when he spoke again, exhaustion evident in his voice.

“Why are you so reckless?”

“Excuse me?”

She looked at him like he had grown another head. She wasn’t ready for this conversation but by the looks of it they were gonna have it anyway.

“What if I hadn’t been there today? Or any of the other days you almost died. What then?”

“My best guess? I would’ve been dead.”

“And that fact doesn’t bother you at all?!”

She flinched at little when his voice rose, but she stood her ground, at least figuratively since she was still in bed.

“I don’t know, should it?” She didn’t try and tone down the venom dripping from her words. Her words cut deeper than the wounds he got from the assassins; she saw it clear as day on his face. She let out a deep sigh but continued. She had to get it out and he had to hear it, that’s the reason she gave herself for the confession that followed.

“I don’t need your help, Dick. I don’t know what gave you the impression that I did but I’ve never needed it.” She swallowed the lump in her throat. ‘Why was it getting harder to speak?’ “I don’t need you to save me every time. I don’t need you to risk your life for me and I definitely don’t…” She moved to sit up straight, her back resting on the headboard. She shifted her gaze on her open palms resting in her lap; palms covered in blood, in her blood, not very long ago.

“I don’t need you to care...”

The last part was a whisper and Dick was silent, so silent that for a brief moment she wondered if the man she’d come to care about even heard her, admitting something that was so painful for her to say out loud.

Dick moved to sit beside her, his shoulder bumping hers. He didn’t know where all this was coming from but he knew better to leave it unattended.

“(Y/N) I help you because I care about you. I always will, you know that.”

“Why? You have nothing to gain from it”, blinking back the unshed tears in her eyes, she looked at him with a hurt expression as if she couldn’t bring herself to understand.

“Why… as in why do I care?”, Dick tilted his head to look her in the eyes, trying to understand what she meant all the while making sure not to let his own surprise at her words show. She nodded not trusting her voice to not betray her anymore than it already had.

“I don’t care about you because I feel like you need it nor because I would gain something from it”, Dick knew he shouldn’t have to explain it to her. He briefly wondered what she had gone through to make her think that she needed to be useful to be cared for or that she had to need it to be cared for. He felt something pull at his heart at the thought; It was sorrow.

“I care about you because… well I do and there’s nothing you could or couldn’t do to change that. And it is because I care about you that I ask you to be better at taking care of yourself. Now I know for a fact that whatever you stole from The League’s safehouse definitely did not belong there, but I also know that whatever it was, it wasn’t worth your life (Y/N) It never will be.”

Dick grasped one of her hands, interlacing his gloved fingers with hers; she hadn’t even realized she was shaking until he did so. Closing her eyes, she forced herself to take a deep breath despite her protesting ribs. Opening the palm of her free hand she muttered an incantation with practiced ease

“Eveirter tahw saw neddih “, her hand glowed, the golden aura taking the shape of a object. When the light subsided, Dick saw the object in her palm as she rubbed her thumb across it, quietly leaning her head on his shoulder.

“It was this totem. It belongs to Madame Xanadu. Don’t know what Ra’s wanted it for though”, she shrugged as best as she could with an injured shoulder then continued, voice firmer than it had been the whole evening,“ She asked me to retrieve it in exchange for information on a girl I was looking for. The girl was somehow sucked into some other dimension, a mystic one and her mother was so desperate when she approached me that I just couldn’t say no. So when I say the Totem was important, then I want you to know that it really is.”

Dick shook his head at that. “Still not worth your life.”

“Dick…”, she sighed. It was all she could do at the moment because she was really getting tired from all the arguing.

“Do you remember the first time we met?”

“You mean the time I met the infamous vigilante Nightwing in a dumpster of all places.”

“In my defense I was badly injured”, she hummed in agreement.

“You smelled bad”

“You try smelling like flowers after falling from a building and into an open dumpster.”

His playful grumbling pulled a short laugh out of her. She was more than a little confused at the sudden trip into the past but happily accepted it as a change of topic. She should’ve know better than to think he’d have let the matter go.

“Anyway my point is when you saw me that day, you first instinct was to help me. You pulled me out and used your magic to heal my wounds. You didn’t have to. You could’ve dropped me at a hospital. You could’ve even walked away and pretended that you never saw me, but you didn’t. Why is that?”

“Because I thought you were handsome?”, she said trying to lighten this too-heavy-for-comfort conversation he was trying to have.

“Nice try. I know you. You saved me because you cared. You helped me and the Titans save the city more than once because you cared. It is who you are. I’ve seen you care about and worry over complete strangers without conditions. So why do you think that there has to be some kind of a barter system when it comes to you? Why think that I would want to gain something if I cared about you?”

“Because everyone else did.”

The words shot out from her mouth quicker than she realized. She had voiced her greatest insecurity to the one person who never had anything to add to it and Dick’s heart clenched at the implications of her words, ‘She has never been loved unconditionally before’ his brain provided.

The tears she blinked back earlier came back with full force. She felt two strong arms that wrapped around her, all the while being mindful of her injuries. Dick pulled her into a hug and that was it. She couldn’t control the sobs that tore through her throat, the pain in her body flared due her erratic movements. She knew once the tears started flowing they wouldn’t stop at least not for a while, but now that her façade had been broken she couldn’t bring herself to give it another thought.

He waited for her to let it out, let out all the pent up emotions she had. Now that he thought about it he had never seen her cry. He never questioned it, maybe he should’ve.

“I don’t know who’s responsible for hurting you (Y/N), God, how much I wish I did”, his arms slightly tighten around her at that. “I am so sorry that you have felt like you have to have your walls up all the time, even around me and I should’ve seen that, I should’ve realized that before but I didn’t and I am so sorry for that. I can’t undo the damage you’ve endured and I will not pretend that I can. What I can do is promise you that I’d never let you down like that, never.”

The words he spoke were clear. He didn’t try to tell her to put her walls down, to trust him when she had no reason to. He also didn’t need to justify himself or make such over the top promises but it felt nice to hear it. She had already stopped crying the moment he started speaking again but she still had her forehead pressed against his chest, listening to his heartbeat, it was calming in a way she couldn’t describe. She pulled her head back to look at him, and the honesty in his voice earlier matched the one in his eyes.

“Okay”

Hearing her response, he gave her his signature grin. It sent unexpected warmth through her, he always had that effect on her. She was sure she was just blushing at this point and was suddenly thankful for the dim lighting in the room. 

She ended up composing herself rather quickly, jabbing a finger at his armored chest with her usual smirk plastered on her face.

“Now that you’ve made that promise, know this, Dick Grayson, if you let me down I will drop a mountain on you.”

“You mean that figuratively?”

“No I mean that geologically”, he waited for her to say she was kidding. She didn’t.

“Alright, alright”, He held his hands out in mock surrender. After considering the look in her eyes, Dick refrained from questioning the feasibility of that action nor did he want to question her magical abilities or intent. Last he remembered, Wally did that and that conversation ended with him being teleported to Sahara and Dick would very much like to avoid the same fate as his best friend.

Deciding that was more than enough exhaustion for one night, he got up from the bed and kissed her goodnight, informing her that he’d be sleeping on the couch so that he wouldn’t accidently hit her injuries in his sleep. She agreed and watched him slip out of the room before falling into the blissful sleep she had been putting off since forever.

•°•°

She knew Dick Grayson was full of surprises but the next morning when he put forward the offer of become a full time Titan, in front of her, she wondered if she fell from the bed in her sleep and ended up  getting another concussion because he was so not making any sense.

“So let me get this straight, you want me to come live with you and your superhero friends, in the Titans freaking Tower?!”

“I was hoping for a little less yelling after an emotional evening but yes that is exactly what I’m asking.”

“Dick that’s just ridiculous!”

“Look, you don’t have to if you don’t want to.”

He looked like a kicked puppy which made her feel kinda guilty for all the yelling.

“It’s not that…It’s just there is still a lot about me I haven’t told them. There is still a lot I haven’t told you. I don’t see a reason why you all would want to trust a possible threat, let alone live with it”, she gestured to herself.

Dick felt like there was a deeper meaning behind her words, as if she was voicing her own fear rather than theirs but he trusted her enough to tell him about it when she was ready, on her own terms. He could wait till then but for now he crossed the short distance between them, going around the breakfast table till he stood in front of her. He grasped both of her hands in his and ran his thumb soothingly across her knuckles. He bent down to place a soft kiss on her forehead, and then moved to meet her gaze.

“(Y/N), I know you and I trust you and…It sounds silly considering I was raised by the worlds greatest detective but I believe that you don’t have to know every little detail about someone as long as you already know what’s in their heart.” Bruce probably would’ve disagreed but he wasn’t Bruce.

“And you know what’s in mine?”

“And I know what’s in yours.” His statement was firm and left no room for argument, not when it came to this.

“If you’re sure about this, then I guess...”

“Is that a yes I’m hearing?”, There was that smile again, seriously what was up with him and his smile that made her giddy inside.

In between thoughts she realized he was still waiting for a response so she nodded. Any underlying doubts she had about her answer vanished when she took in how happy it made him. As cheesy as it sounded seeing him happy made her happy. A part of her said it wouldn’t last long, but seeing her boyfriend hop onto the couch full of joy as he called his friends about the latest development in their lives, she wanted to believe otherwise.    

°•°•°•°•

[historfantasy]

I think after watching this week’s episode of Wandavision for the fourth time, I finally understand all the emotions going on in scenes that happen after Wanda opens the last door.

First, she is just physically upset, she drove to SWORD after opening up the deed that her dead soulmate gave to her from beyond the grave. So she marches in. Then when she’s talking to the guy at the desk she sinks into the fact that when she woke up, she was no longer holding him. So Wanda wants his body even though I don’t think she has processed that she is going to see a body.

Because when she walks down the hallway still with the bravado she walked in with and she asks Hayward for the body and he shows Vision dismembered, she can’t process what she’s looking at. She hasn’t processed it being Vision’s body, and especially not that they are dismembering the valuable body she saw Ultron get the parts for and build.

So she turns to ask Hayward what he is doing, how he can just pull apart something that was once someone that gave her strength and love. Then when he answers her by calling Vision, “the most sophisticated, sentcient weapon”, basically a gun with a brain that they want to pull apart for its shiny, valuable pieces, he bursts another bubble for her. She is knocked down lower than ever, “you can’t do this.” Pleading by giving Hayward a desperate reason for him to give her Vision, “I just want to bury him.” Hayward, I think can tell he is breaking her down and picks his next few phrases very specifically. He isn’t blunt and rude at first he is questioning her, riling her up to make her feel worse.

He questions a woman, who is notably distraught, about her intentions and “accidentally slips up” in such a fake way, to show Wanda that no one cares about Vision as he is just a machine, and that nobody cares about her feelings for the “three billion dollars in vibranium.” He gives her fake diplomacy but as she expresses her loss and her need to have whatever is left of him, Hayward tells her straight up, “He isn’t yours.” All of this snowballed her into breaking the glass, she wanted to be the villain for a sec she wanted to be the woman who didn’t have to lose again and so she feels vindicated coming down into the lab, to step near his body.

As she steps towards him, she sees the man who saved her in Sokovia, who watched sitcoms in comfort with her, the man who printed out the recipe, who she snuck around the world with, the man she had in her bed. She saw him just in pieces and could probably still remember the burst of energy the mindstone gave off when she destroyed it and was just he was dead. So when she puts her hand over his head says “I can’t feel you,” for the first time” all she was, was unbelievably sad and heartbroken. Another loved one, maybe the most important one yet, is lost to her.

But the second time she says it, it isn’t for dramatic effect, you can hear it in her voice and see it on her face. It’s a whisper of depression and a tiny bit of peace. He isn’t just dead. This man, not a machine, is gone. He is not suffering as they pull him apart, he doesn’t feel weighed down by the stone. He was the man she loved and had to kill and then watch be murdered a second time and he was simply gone. So that’s why she could simply walk out of SWORD. She would have just kept crying right there but no she pulled herself away because it was never the “three billion dollars vibranium” for her, it was everything else.

So she walked out and to her car. Wanda walked away from what was gone and drove to what she actually had left of him. See, Vision never gave her a ring or some little trinket, he wanted to give her his word, but they never had the chance. As she said in Infinity War, “We wanted more time.” But what that means is without him, she really has no item she can burn, keep in her pocket, or hold close to her chest.

We find out though that he gave her a plot of land, in a place that needed some TLC just like her when they met. So she goes to that. That is where she goes and she looks at the deed with his last note to her on it, “To grow old in.” He was never going to grow old, and maybe if she is like Agnes she can’t either, but I don’t think he meant old as a couple. I think he meant for her to grow old in. Either with him there to take care of her as she grows grey and frail or maybe he means for her to grow old in without him just so he knows she has a place after his sacrifice.

She walks through the entrance that she wishes he could have carried her through when they got married or the one he could come home to greet her like her parents once did. That’s where she breaks down. Wanda wanted a future with him and that future, her love for sitcoms, her desire for a picturesque life, and Vision all just come pouring out of her. Literally.

She cannot take the pain so she lets everything pour out because her love preserved even after his death but she never even got the chance to tell him those three simple words when he was alive.

[araminakilla]

Who lives, who dies. Who tells your true story?

(A TJ analysis + a little of TOH)

I read an amazing analysis regarding Eda Clawthorne and how her life was ruined by Belos and his system and I couldn't but remember @shields-and-depthgauges-oh-my Tadeo Jones x The Owl House AU in which Mummy takes Eda's place.

So in this TED Talk post I'm going to write my thoughts regarding Mummy's current situation comparing it to the TOH post made by @sepublic

Let's start:

"God I fucking hate Belos for this. Him and his coven system have taken everything from Eda; Her sister, her parents, her lover, her magic, her reputation and dignity! He and his society have defamed Eda so much, ostracized and made her existence criminal and turner society against her in their narrative."

If we reemplaze "Belos and his society" to "europeans and their society" and "Eda" to "Mummy" then we got similar results. At least we know conquistadors were responsible from the loss of his home, culture, family, friends, whatever important job he had, his humanity and probably his dignity too.

Then there's the issue regarding modern society and their view of living mummies. Creatures considered by them as monsters, beasts, zombies who will kill humans without thinking it, because they have come to believe that the mummies can't think at all, just like some inhabitants of the Boiling Isles who believe in all of Belos' propaganda have come to believe that wild witches are nothing but mischiveous, evil people who deserve petrifications and other punishments imposed by the coven system.

"Belos ostracized AND mercilessly pursued Eda like an animal, dehumanizing her like the Collector hunting the Owl Beast, as did his underlings."

And the thing is... europeans and explorers in general (aka white people) were the ones to designate the mummies as monsters of destruction once they wake up from their tombs. The monsters attack the "oh so innocent" british explorers because they just happen to retrieve things that belong to the mummies or ignore the warnings of the locals and then wonder "why is this creature trying to kill us?"

The point is, egyptian mummies existed so their soul can go to their afterlife with all of their belongings. Then we have andean mummies, whose purpose of existing is even more tragic as most of them were preserved to interact with their living family, be a source of information and pride. To both cultures, death was another aspect of life and their mummies were their connection to both worlds.

Their respective cultures got it pretty well. They understood their importance and respected it.

They had a live, a name and the right to rest in peace but the mighty explorers and thieves JUST. DON'T. GET. IT.

But they not only made the POC's ancestors monsters. They also target the living POC as well, and this is a thing that is still present.

"And disappointed her YET AGAIN as life does, because it really is so hard for Eda and it really does seem like she can’t win, no matter how kind she is to others... It’s just not fair..."

Back to Mummy, yeah. Life (and afterlife) has not been kind to him. Not only he had to be forced to flee from his true home (the Tahuantinsuyo) but he has been banished from his hometomb Paititi only because he decided not to kill Tad and the rest of humans. For displaying a hint of humanity. For not playing the killing monster card that time. At showing mercy, he seems to be forsaking his monster nature and was percieved as a danger to his society after 500 years keeping it safe at the sake of his sanity and identity.

Yeah, it is not fair.

"Eda gives so much and she’s begun to receive but it will never truly make up for what she lost."

Luckily for Mummy, he's got a found family he can come to visit, but it isn't the same as what he had before, without counting that he has to hide what he really is from the world if he doesn't want to be caught by greedy people or the USA goverment (given that Tad lives in Chicago) But he has lost so much, even more than the other incan mummies as they still have a place to call their home.

And then there's the issue that his best friend, his brother as he puts it, doesn't reciprocate the same love and dedication Mummy has for him. The guy traveled from South America to North America TWO TIMES just to be with him and Tad's reaction is "ugh, not this guy again" I get that Mummy arrives in unfortunate times but he doesn't deserve to be treated like that.

"And she’s still losing to this day, so I can understand why she’d just give up and ask what the point of if all even is, why bother trying?"

One thing many of us noticed is that Mummy has forsaken his former humanity as in a short of "Discovering with Tad" he calls the kids seeing the short "crias de humanos" (human cubs), he talks about his experiences of 500 years ago but never begins with "when I was alive" or "back when I was a human" then there's the matter with human disguises an how he can't get them right (as a woman on a plane and an asian couple in Spain seem to know something is off) and the fact that he seems to give up trying and just copies Tad's style because he thinks he will stop getting complains about his appearance.

But still... he actually brings his "human rights" when faced with a situation he clearly doesn't want to do or doesn't believe he could do in such little time, only for Tad to tell him "you're not human" And this guy is his best friend.

"Just admit and surrender defeat to Belos, who has finally won in making Eda revoke her own existence, after all of the shame and despair."

At the end of the first film, Mummy becomes a wanderer, homeless and not even sure if Peru is his home anymore as it seems that the country has room for everyone but not for him. Not anymore.

That he has to move somewhere else to feel at home, another place to belong just like Luz found a home in the Boiling Isles where she is figuring herself.

I mentioned before Mummy separating himself from his humanity and you may be wondering: But there is nothing wrong in that. Mummies are cool and WAY more powerful that regular humans which yes, it's true. But those concepts would apply with other monsters like, let's say... Dracula for example.

What makes this mummy (or mummies in general) different? Well, for starters, he's an Incan mummy, a native american whose life ended at the beggining of the conquista of the new world.

The fact that he has to migrate? being feared? taking advantage of his capabilities just so others can benefit from him without taking his feelings into account? the fear of people and their stares of disgust? the fact that he has to hide or he will be in deep trouble with higher authorities that will saw him as nothing but a plague?

Does all of this sound familiar to you?

Not only does that could apply to POC people seeking better opportunities in the USA, but it can apply to people escaping a war so they and their family can have a better future.

People seen as the other, persecuted, ostracized, all because of a system that it's against them and if they were born into the system and lived in it almost alm their lives, then this could cause many cases of self loathing and shame for the simple fact of just existing, just like Eda under Belos' system.

And Mummy would also be affected by the current system that label his current group (mummies) and his former group (native americans) as a mishap at best, as a danger at worst.

I get the feeling that Mummy's self esteem is not as okay as he make us believe. There is something that has to be bothering him and I think we could find out in the third movie coming this year. After all, the main theme is getting acknowledged and he is one of the most important characters of the movie, so he is (hopefuly) no longer JUST a comic relief.

And if Tad can get angry in this movie, he can get angry too and show his true potential.

"I really need to see Eda go ham... Go FERAL on this bastard, cathartically express rage against the man who took everything from her"

And we need the same to happen with Mummy, to see him tear apart the system that says that he's nothing but a monster whose only purpose is to make filthy rich people even more rich. That he will never belong to a place again because the world he used to live is gone.

Mummy needs to get everyone to see that he matters.

Eda needs to get everyone to see that she matters.

They are wild, rebels, escape from the current law and love their peers even if some of them betrayed them but they forgive them because the love that they have inside them is stronger than the hate the world has for them.

They matter

[farthngdr]

I’ve Seen Fire and I’ve Seen Rain

In his poem titled “Fire and Water, Part One: Absolution,” Misha begins with these powerful lines:

“Many years ago, I got a phone call/

With news that made me want to give up./

I sat and stared for an hour/”

He then recounts how he roused himself from this stasis to go for a run, as a way of dealing with the pain. 

On his run he sees smoke and fire, and instead of acting on the natural instinct for self-preservation by running away from the fire, he runs straight toward it.

Unconsciously, or perhaps even consciously, he wants to run to the fire to die. And he almost does.

The question here is, who called him, and what news did the caller give him? 

A clue rests in that key phrase: “It made me want to give up.” Meaning: To give up on life itself. A pain so great that all he can do is stare mutely. He can’t even move from his seat. He is paralyzed. 

This speaks of a grief, a loss, that is so deep, that his own life means nothing to him anymore.

The death of a close loved one could be the news. But I do not recall Misha losing a parent, sibling, wife, or child, to death. 

The call was received by him “many years ago.” Perhaps it could have been 10 years ago or more.

That kind of response--it “made me want to give up”--suggests that someone had given up on him.

Perhaps a lover. Someone he worshiped and adored. Who gave him life. Joy. Hope for the future. Gave him back to himself.

The loss of that lover would make anyone want to give up.

The Instagram poet Alma Perpetua offers a poem where she remembers lying in bed with her lover. She remembers what he said to her on that occasion. It hurts her, looking back on it, because something has happened to the relationship: Her lover has just let her go:

In “Fire and Water,” Misha runs into the blaze because he no longer has the will  to live. He has given up.

Because someone has given up on him.

After the baptism by fire comes the baptism of the water, and he survives.

POSTSCRIPT:______________________________________

Misha’s run in Griffith Park was clearly during the 2007 wildfire; the location of the fire was near his favored running route, and easily accessible from his home in the Hollywood Hills. The fact that he had a death wish and ran toward the fire, as he recounts in “Fire and Water: Part One: Absolution,” is an astonishing admission of vulnerability and a traumatic loss of hope and purpose.

In connecting some dots, I was able to find a grace note regarding the 2007 Griffith Park fire and Misha’s connection to it. It is widely known in fandom that Misha was a member of an LA art collective, whose members wanted to remain anonymous. Rather than launch into a detailed account of the various installations credited to this collective, I want to focus on one in particular: The Griffith Park teahouse, assembled by the collective without permission from the city in 2015, and Misha’s crucial role in this inspired bit of community art. Even though he wasn’t identified by name in the press, it’s clear that the vision for building the teahouse at a specific location in the Park came from him, on one of his daily runs. 

Here is a link to an article in the LA TImes about the event; clearly, Misha is the person referred to here as “the ringleader”:

https://www.latimes.com/entertainment/arts/miranda/la-et-cam-griffith-park-teahouse-20150630-column.html#page=1

The teahouse was constructed from wood that was burned in the 2007 Griffith Park fire. Considering Misha’s experience with that fire, fraught as it was with high emotion and, ultimately, absolution, the use of the burned planks to create the teahouse strikes me as an act of atonement for his act of running into the fire all those years ago. By transforming the damaged wood into a place of peace, community, grace, beauty, and spiritual renewal, Misha was in effect making peace with his relationship to the fire, transforming nihilism into an affirmation of life.

I don’t mean to assert that Misha shared this specific idea with his fellow collective. And of course, I have no proof that he consciously connected these dots himself. It’s that the confluence of events surrounding the Griffith Park fire suggests that the building of the teahouse could have served the purpose of atonement for Misha’s rash, fatalistic impulse at a time in his life when oblivion beckoned to him. The peaceful teahouse, built from the ashes of disaster, signaled his journey from that dark place to one of grace, beauty, and a renewed commitment to a life of creativity and meaning.