#which idk

old nichijou art from around last year

5 year old Ginny who grows up on stories of The Boy Who Lived and feels safe with the heroic character she imagines in her mind

8 year old Ginny who gets teased by her family when she blushes over The Boy Who Lived’s anticipated Hogwarts enrollment, who dreams about meeting her bedtime story protagonist

10 year old Ginny who puts a face to the legend and now thinks of Harry whenever she feels scared or unsure

11 year old Ginny whose admiration and grandeur around Harry boosts his pedestal impossibly higher when he saves her life in the chamber of secrets

12 year old Ginny who gets butterflies when she sees Harry in the halls and fantasizes about fighting alongside him, her hero is real and just as brilliant as she imagined him

13 year old Ginny who is surprised to find cracks in the polish, things that don’t make sense, who thinks Harry is unlike himself when he gets irritated and angry and acts carelessly towards his friends, even towards her

14 year old Ginny who lives the reality of fighting beside Harry and doesn’t get the same floaty feeling about it, who sees beyond the bedtime story and stares directly at the beaten down teenager in front of her who has more rage than he knows how to handle, who doesn’t make excuses when he snaps and makes wrong decisions, and who realizes Harry doesn’t shine as brightly when she looks at him

15 year old Ginny who now dreams of protecting Harry, who worries for him and what’s to come at the end of every remaining good day, who is stubborn and refuses to get behind the front line of battle, who gets annoyed with his stubbornness and meets his outbursts with a matching tone, who forgives him over and over and over because he means it when he says sorry and they all have more rage than they know how to handle

So how are they gonna do this? Well, one single perplexing shot in one of the trailers gives me the answer. It's what looks like White Widow getting attacked in a bathroom by her doppelganger.

How does that answer anything? You fool. You imbecile. Trope as old as time. Having a resurgence in popularity lately for some reason.

They're gonna do an It: Chapter II ending.

Notice how The Void in the trailer is just waving his hand and turning people into shadows on the pavement, fucking terrifying visual I assumed meant he was just flash carbonizing them like an atom bomb. Wow! That's super dark and very fitting, I thought! Glad they're going there with his powers, how the fuck will the Thunderbolts stop him???

They're not going there. That's the answer. Calling it now. He's not killing people, he's trapping them in THE DARK DIMENSION where THE VOID MUST COME FROM and they have to fight manifestations of their inner demons and trauma and the themes the movies going for of redemption for past sins will be visualized by our plucky heroes finding the strength to overcome their past selves and break free, which will somehow make Sentry break free of The Void's influence

Ensio's hand shook, the revolver still had five bullets in it. One was already burried in Valko's shoulder. One more would be enough to finish him off and one more after that to send Peregrine off with him.

Ensio's hand shook, his heart was in pieces, he'd found his missing husband in his brothers bed. The revolver still had five bullets and every one of them felt like it belonged in one of the three of them.

The love of his life was pleading to him. Begging on his knees with blood staining his clothes, that Ensio let him get help for Valko. That they talk this out. That he was so sorry.

Ensio heard every last one of Peregrine's words, but not a single one fully registered through the thrum of blood in his ears.

Ensio hated that this wasn't the first time Peregrine looked so scared of him. He hated that Valko, as badly injured as he was, was still trying to pull Peregrine behind him, to make sure his bulk would keep Peregrine safe from Ensio's wrath.

Valko would sacrifice himself for Ensio's husband. Could Ensio say the same? Stood there with a gun pointed at him and every intention to kill the man he adored?

His heart lay in pieces. His hand shook, but he did not pull the trigger.

The world felt numb. He didn't remember walking home. He didn't remember sitting down on the edge of his and Peregrine's bed, or pulling his wedding ring off setting it aside on his bedside table like he'd done every night since they had wed a full decade ago.

Ten years of marriage. Happy marriage. The sort of marriage you read about in the shmoopy romances Peregrine adored. With fresh flowers and devotion and love that warmed them through the darkest nights.

This was it, wasn't it? There was no going back. No pretending he didn't know Peregrine preferred the embrace of another, of Ensio's own twin.

He sat on the edge of that bed, staring at the floor. He might have been crying. Might have been sobbing. Everything was just numb.

He wanted Peregrine in his arms. He wanted to ring his neck. He wanted to eviscerate Valko. He wanted to hug him and feel like they were brothers again.

"Ensio?" Peregrine knocked at his own door, "Can I come in?"

Ensio just stared at it, silent and unsure if he wanted to scream for Peregrine to leave and never return or to beg that he forget Valko ever existed.

"Ensio, please," Peregrine sounded choked up, "Even if it's a no, I just want to make sure you're ok."

"Come in," Ensio hated how weak his voice felt, and how weak he felt when just seeing Peregrine in their room again after weeks away was enough to soften the edges of whatever it was writhing within him.

Peregrine came to him kneeling in front of where he sat on the bed, his soft features twisted in something like sorrow as he pulled his handkerchief from his pocket.

"My love," Peregrine reached for him, and Ensio wanted to flinch away, but the warmth of Peregrine's hand against his cheek was more than enough to break his resolve.

His eyes screwed shut, he pressed against Peregrine's palm, his own hand going to hold it there as he silently begged to be able to open his eyes and find this had all been an awful nightmare.

Peregrine whiped his tears for him, gentle and kind and like he had many times before.

"When did it all go wrong?" Ensio asks in the breath warmed space between them when he opens his eyes again to find that his nightmare continues.

Peregrine can't meet his gaze, "I don't know," he swallows hard, "Can we talk about this in the morning? It's late, and we both need rest."

"Will you be with him until then?" Ensio didn't like the bite in his words.

"No, I'll be on the guest room. He's gone home to tend his wounds alone."

Ensio sighs, and pulls away from his husband's touch, "Stay here. Please."

It had been months since they last shared a bed. Even before Peregrine left they slept apart more nights than they did together.

Ensio missed the days of not waking up alone.

"Are you sure?" Peregrine asked standing carefully from where he knelt, like he expected Ensio to snap again.