#like all-in I think it might be an okay marriage by Succession standards

[waystarresourceco]

Harriet Walter on how Caroline actually feels about Peter Munion.

"She wants to get in with her kids, you know? If you only see your kids seldom, and we know that it’s more complicated than that she walked out on them, there’s a huge story behind, I think, which we haven’t really gone into but it’s hinted at in that scene, about the way she was sort of bought out in a way. And at the time probably felt that sacrificing that was worth it, she was just chocking. And so to find someone who’s just a flip-flop, who kind of – is actually quite fun and, you know, we’ll get on fine because I’ve got some dough.

But you want to sort of keep in with your kids and be somebody that they want to visit and want to see so I do sort of crack jokes with them and say ‘I know he’s awful, isn’t he ghastly’ but actually – because I’m sort of reading it though there eyes  – but I think actually she doesn’t care if he wears ghastly clothes.… He’s fun and he adores her and we can go to Italy and she makes out like she doesn’t want those things and didn’t want it but I think she probably feels very happy."

Excerpt from Excerpt from Still Watching: Succession Season 3 "Chiantishire" with Dame Harriet Walter – Dec. 5, 2021

[venturismcdonald]

Forgive me for the angst, I just watched the Succession finale and it got me thinking (as most things do) about Life With Derek and the cycles of marriage and divorce.

The cycle continues, it never really ends, does it? We can presume Nora grew up with a dad who wasn't really there for her or her sisters (I don't remember ever hearing of or seeing him but could be wrong), married and had kids with a man who neglected her and the girls and then married a man who was either over involved or not involved enough in his children's lives. Dennis is her father, but with money. George is more involved, equally to Nora, but he's still very meh. (I say this as someone who likes George, he's a deeply flawed character and that's what makes him interesting.) He's not a bad father, necessarily, but still has this form of distance with his kids that isn't the healthiest.

Nora, for her own life, becomes her mother in a way: she devotes herself so wholly to a career that sometimes, things like childcare and cleaning and emotional labor fall to the wayside. (Which also doesn't make her a bad character, it makes her an interesting one.) She has Casey and Lizzie (and the Venturi's) in their own distinct boxes and when they step out of them, she falls apart. If Casey wasn't practically running the McTuri household, it would've fallen apart. When Casey's rebelling with Truman and goes through an identity crisis (which she'd been having the entire show), Nora loses her mind a little bit because that's not supposed to happen, that's not who Casey is supposed to be.

Abby, who abandons her children to see them rarely and not really form a relationship with them once she moves out, is still a huge figure in all of their lives.

Casey is forced to pick up a lot of the slack as far as things around the house go as a child because of everything. She cleans, she organizes, she cranks everything up to 12 in the hopes it'll make Dennis love her and Nora doesn't notice. Lizzie is too young and Nora is too stressed to notice. When they move in with the Venturi's, that only changes because she slowly warms up to the idea that she doesn't need to be perfect to be loved. It's a very gradual process and one we can presume doesn't last long. By Life with Luca, she's cranked everything up even higher than it was before, made herself be held to ridiculous standards in the hopes of making things look like they're fine when they're not because Peter's gone all the time and Casey has three kids she's raising all on her own and Luca's acting out and she is drowning. If she can be perfect enough, the perfect lawyer, perfect wife, perfect mom, perfect everything, then Peter will be home more and love her. It makes sense to Casey's mind. If she's perfect, she won't have to go through a divorce and do to her kids what happened to her. If she's perfect, she won't have married her father and she won't be her mother.

Derek took on a decent amount of emotional labor as a kid; did he ever do any physical labor? Haha, no. That's what Edwin's there for. But he has a very significant role in keeping his siblings emotionally healthy and stable. Marti seeks him out, not the parents, for comfort, which is telling: she's the youngest, probably a year old when the divorce happened. George might have buried himself in work or something, but whatever it is, Derek became her safe space. And he's there for Edwin, with mediocre advice most of the time, but Derek tries. Only once he's slowly taught the lesson that it's okay to show emotions and be attached does he actually start to grow as a person. But again, in Life With Luca, we don't necessarily see that. Derek hasn't dated in around 14 years, he lives alone with a whole ocean between him and the family (presumably), his best friend is his kid and he's denying emotions like he's 17 again. Derek procreated with his mother and in his efforts to not become his father, lost a lot of what made him Derek.

The irony is that the only time the cycle seems to break is when Derek and Casey are around each other. They're allowing themselves to seek comfort, even when they "hate" each other, because they're the only ones who know what they're going through so well. Time and time again, they save each other, in more ways than one. It's the consistent presence of each other that makes them realize they can look for better than what they have.

If Life With Luca becomes a show (which I hope it does), it better explore this concept. Derek and Casey can break the cycle (getting together and being normally involved parents who love each other and constantly show the kids they do) but it'd take time.

[bbygirl-aemond]

I think I disagree with your post about Ned. The reason Cersei putting her bastards on the throne is a bigger deal is because she is not the ruling monarch, Robert is. Her children have no relation to Robert, Robert is unaware of this, and putting her children on the throne breaks the line of succession. Rhaenyra, on the other hand, is the ruling monarch. Her children are of her blood, and her husband and father-in-law are aware of the situation and are okay with it. So what would Ned even do? Because the Greens have already been spreading rumors about it and it’s obvious based on the boy’s looks, it’s pretty much an open secret across the realm. And anyone who matters already knows and doesn’t care. Vaemond is in the wrong because he is directly going against both Corlys and the King’s express wishes. Ned might have disapproved, but he would have acknowledged that Corlys and Viserys have the right to determine who inherits their thrones so long as they are aware of the truth.

(this ask is in reference to this post)

i'm still not convinced! while yes, rhaenyra's bastards still have her blood, there's wayyyy more going on here that ned would refuse to put up with than just bloodline. so let's go through it:

ned would take huge issue with rhaenyra going outside of her marriage to have children. this is a violation of what he would see as sacred vows that she made to laenor (going against the gods), and also actual westerosi laws. again, he would neither know nor care about the morality of whether laenor approved: the fact remains that rhaenyra publicly vowed and is legally required not to have children out of wedlock, and she violated that. he's super principled about these sorts of traditions.

he would also take issue with her lying to the court and the realm about it. ned hugely values honesty, so there's really no way he would ever be okay with rhaenyra lying. it doesn't matter if everyone implicitly knows; he would think it incredibly dishonorable for her to be explicitly lying regardless.

ned has demonstrated that he thinks it is even more important to hold to these principles the more power you have, and the more men you serve, because you set more of an example and are more trusted. so since rhaenyra as queen sets an example for the entire realm, he would hold her to the same high standards he holds himself to in all of these regards. and he would find her lacking.

just for the sake of your argument, let's pretend ned has abandoned his principles of honesty, legality, and religiosity in this case, and doesn't take issue with rhaenyra having bastards. in this scenario, he would STILL make a stink the MOMENT aegon the younger was born. in the presence of a trueborn son, ned would insist that the strong boys to be shifted down the line of succession. he would still uphold the westerosi laws and customs that says trueborn children have to come before bastards--think of how you can't even legally legitimize a bastard if you have another trueborn child.

that's not to say ned wouldn't support rhaenyra. of course, he would never like rhaenyra personally because of the past infidelity and dishonesty. but like cregan stark, he'd try to remain faithful to his oath to viserys, and would support her as viserys's only recognized heir. but he'd come to her privately, and make it clear that his support is conditional on the strong boys being recognized as bastards, so the truth is out and rhaenyra follows westerosi laws in determining her succession. and rhaenyra would still react poorly and harshly to that, so bye bye ned.

[tellthemeerkatsitsfine]

Every once in a while, I do Chortle headlines round-ups. But this time, it's their external headlines list that caught my eye and seemed worth posting:

Yep, that seems to me like a solid summary of comedy news from August 2023. I've been obsessively following comedy in the last month - I mean I'm always obsessively following comedy but I've been especially doing it in the last month because I wish I were in Edinburgh and I want to vicariously live through everyone who was - and this seems like pretty much the cliff notes of what you'd learn if you were following Britcom in the last month.

Eddie Izzard is happy and performing a collection of the best stuff of her long career and it's fucking great. Edinburgh Fringe Festival living is tough, it's too expensive for the comedians and for the audience, that's a big problem. The Edinburgh Fringe Festival is full of comedians telling their traumatic stories. John Robins is getting his shit together (honestly, I did read that article and it made me feel a bit guilty for how I recently said in a post that I like the angry bitter version of him so I'm a bit sorry that he's getting better - of course comedians can still be great after getting therapy, often they can be better after getting therapy, James Acaster's brilliant latest show is a great example of that, of course I'm happy about John Robins getting his life to a better place, I was being flippant about John Robins' problems in that other post, reading that article made me want to stop being flippant for a minute and say I really am glad he's taking better care of himself, and I am sure he can make greater comedy than ever in the wake of that). Stewart Lee is maybe autistic - yeah, I knew that, I heard him talk about that possible diagnosis in his show last year, I got a bit emotional hearing from this guy whose comedy has never been especially personal or emotionally vulnerable, but it has been cynical and pedantic in a way I relate to, so hearing he might have this major thing in common with me got to me on an emotional level, and God damn it, why did he have to ruin it by doing the "rich successful man leaves age-appropriate wife for woman half his age" thing that makes me no longer want to relate to him at all?

That's five of the six stories in this round-up. The sixth being - God damn it, Mark, what the fuck? And I know, I know, we're not supposed to care, we're not supposed to put strangers on a pedestal and then be upset when they fail to live up to our standards. I know, I know, but what the fuck, Mark? Hell of a thing to leave out, that is, of all that material you did for all those years about the ending of your marriage. Hell of a thing to leave out, to people who were listening to that material and thinking we knew what you were talking about. What the fuck? I mean... how did you even... three fucking years? Are you fucking kidding me? Just on a practical level, that is so long. No, no, it's fine, I wasn't tying my faith in humanity to the idea of Mark Watson being perfect or anything.

And, no, sorry obviously I was in fact tying my faith in humanity to that, but also, I don't think I am being ridiculous with my pedestal or demanding too much perfection, because surely "if you're going to cheat on your wife don't do it for three whole years, and if you are going to do that then don't spend years doing material about how hard the end of the marriage was without mentioning that little detail, not that you have to tell us every bit of your personal life if you don't want to, but don't talk about it in your comedy at all if you want to leave out the part where it was all your own fault" isn't too fucking much to ask? Fucking hell, Mark. Why? Why, Mark? Mark. Mark, what the fuck?

Anyway. I feel like that screenshot is Britcom in August 2023 in a nutshell. John Robins is okay, Stewart Lee and Mark Watson have news that will disappoint you, Edinburgh Fringe is trauma-filled and expensive. And Eddie Izzard is doing great. Good for her.

[moriartyluver]

alright now that I’ve been reassured that rambling here is okay, ur not gonna hear the end of me hehe

back to fl being the embodiment of ‘the man’, im gonna do a silly little lyric analysis.

“they’d say I played the field before I found someone to commit to” - i feel like fl would feel very trapped and stuff bc of marriage and how everyone criticised her high standards, even her parents who love her a lot. (also kinda basing some of these in the og version I found on quotev yesterday) and how she got so pissed that she burnt her parents letter about marriage.

“every conquest I had made would make me more of a boss to you”- HER WPRRY BEING THAT THE MORIARTY TEAM MUGHT NOT SEE HER AS KMPORTANT AS LIAM EVEN THO SHES JUST AS SMART IF NOT SMARTER. i can imagine moran or something not obeying a command and she just yells at him that she is his superior just as much as William is and everyone’s kinda surprised bc she lost her temper.

“When everyone believes ya What's that like? I'm so sick of running as fast as I can Wondering if I'd get there quicker If I was a man”- her whole little rivalry with William kinda being rooted in the fact that nobody views her accomplishments as big as his. in the og, she got that award or something but nobody cares as much as they did abt Liam’s award. i think she mainly hates him b cause to her, he represents how men are seen as superior in Victorian society

“They'd say I hustled Put in the work They wouldn't shake their heads and question how much of this I deserve What I was wearing If I was rude Could all be separated from my good ideas and power moves?“- again with the whole worry thing. Also the third line makes me think of the old male nobles gossiping abt fl and saying she probably only got a degree through bad stuff (I can totally see a rumour that she slept with a professor or something for good grades even tho the only Professor she’d ever sleep with would be William-) I feel like they might also make fun of her cultural clothes or slutshame her even if she were being modest bc the nobles are all jealous cows

“What's it like to brag about Raking in dollars And getting bitches and models And it's all good if you're bad And it's okay if you're mad If I was out flashing my dollars I'd be a bitch, not a baller They paint me out to be bad So it's okay that I'm mad”- she’s really rich but if she tried to flaunt but not actually flaunt her wealth. If she were a man, she’d be a successful businessman but she gets treated like a spoiled princess type instead.

honestly fl is giving me medea vibes but less cruel

-🦢

BRO I LOVE MEDEA SM. SUCH A GIRL BOSS ARGH. ALSO THIS ANALYSIS IS SO GOOD 😭 TRHNK U FOR TAKING THE TIME TO DO THIS

Her getting mad and losing her temper because of her insecurities or being disrespected is soo real. I might just steal that idea idk.

Forgot to delete the og of quotev bc I’ve not checked quotev in agessss but I might just leave it up until I can be bothered to rework it. I hated the original tho cus the pacing was all messed up and alot of the backstory that I was anger to add kept getting missed out so I’m trying to make the rework better now lol

Tbh I don’t think they’d directly make fun of her bc from what I understand is that in Victorian society, wealth still meant a lot and if fl was the daughter of a grand duke and had literal ties to the Queen, they wouldn’t dare say anything to her face and if a rumour like that got found out, they’d probably find a scapegoat to blame the rumour on (probably a fallen noble or something) I can see them being a bit xenophobic to her too because people of colour, although they were in high society, they never were as recognised and treated as well as white British nobles.

[sugar-petals]

can we have the standars of our daegu catto? pretty please -send bubble tea- |_'｡)ノ♡

➻ TAROT READING | what it takes to be with yoongi/his standards + values ♡

only reversed cards came out 😯 everything upside down, yoongi really is the #1 nonconformist in bangtan lmao! but it makes sense, he has a unique perspective on things.

☞ DISCLAIMER // there is no guarantee for accuracy. believing in the cards is a choice. all portrayals are speculative and for entertainment purposes only.

tarot m.list

the spread:

SEVEN OF PENTACLES reversed⎦➝ yoongi has no interest in treating relationships like a joint business or some sort of private company. he doesn't want to focus on saving for a supposed bright future either, and refuses to wait for a relationship to 'fully bloom'. his reasoning: if it's not harmonious from the start and he can't live in the moment with his partner, he's gonna say to himself, that's of no use for the two of us. he is impatient with chemistry, treating it as a 100% fixed given. tomorrow might never come, so he'll spend any money where it's wanted and needed. he's not stingy, he's realistic. the entire card boils down to yoongi saying no to waiting for better life quality to come, sometime, somehow. sayings like 'investing in a relationship' fly past him like a little paper plane. sitting down and twirling thumbs is not his cup of tea, i mean coffee of course. he isn't confident in himself being a good pick for someone, so he always fears it won't last. so, for a myriad of reasons, yoongi is future-thinking-phobic in relationships.

EIGHT OF WANDS reversed ⎦➝ taking things agonizingly slow is the topic here. in complete contrast to the first card, being in a rush is also a deal-breaker to yoongi. talk about drive through las vegas marriage: any shotgun arrangements are actually not his style of loving. he doesn't want to be bombarded with messages and activities (same, yoongi, same) and generally has no interest in pressuring his partner to seal the deal asap to be all fancy-schmancy official. this doesn't mean yoongi hates to commit: it means he does not like being rushed. that especially applies to sex, wands cards talk about getting physical. a pushy partner will turn him off, and the same can be said about his temperament. yoongi abhors any kind of manipulation tactics. he's afraid of forcing a relationship for its own sake in general, or falling in love on a whim. he doesn't like one night stands. he doesn't like improvising, he doesn't like unannounced visits, he doesn't like coming on too strong or people who are extroverted, aggressive, and overbearing. you get the idea: among the sports cars in the race of love, yoongi prefers to be the old timer. he couldn't stage an orgy or do speed dating if he tried.

SIX OF WANDS reversed ⎦➝ he does not want to be valued and romanced for his successes and accolades. at all. yoongi's rewards, status, and money should mean nothing to his love interest. better if his partner has no clue about it or ignores it completely. he thinks they should treat him like the underground rapper suga he once was. yoongi doesn't develop some kind of praise kink with his partner, nor does he want to be put on a pedestal. fans praising him okay, colleagues praising him okay, but his partner? he really doesn't like being seen like he's on the high horse at home. he wants things to be on equal footing as much as possible, or go as far as saying he finds himself pathetic in private, or non-interesting compared to his partner. like wow. he leaves the celebrity part of him in the hybe building where he insists it belongs. he'd prefer being seen as painfully normal and even a complete loser. being allergic to worship is a big one here. this card could also mean that yoongi wants to date someone who is not famous in any capacity, it's a strong sign.

NINE OF CUPS reversed ⎦➝ as with the other cards, the topic of esteem comes up again and again. now this one goes in the following direction: being overly confident or content with yourself won't impress yoongi. he doesn't look at individual characteristics when assessing potential for a relationship, but how mutual everything is. he also values humble and ever-changing characters over arrogance and "i'll just lean back, then" attitudes. you can also interpret this card vice versa: yoongi does not enjoy bragging about his spouse, or feeling too laid-back about his relationship as it is. he always feels like he can improve some problems. he values dynamic efforts. so, long story short, this all means he's against self-importance and stagnation. if you wanted to sum up the whole spread, it would go like this: in romance, resting on one's laurels is his pet peeve par excellence. i think that’s very suga.

© 2017-2022 sugar-petals. Do not repost, modify, or translate my readings.

[thecarnivorousmuffinmeta]

I agree with your Jily thoughts but wondering if you could talk a bit more about it? Why did James bother wasting all that time chasing Lily? Was she just that pretty? Were they ever happy or truly in love? Why did she say yes? If the war didn't happen who would have Jily ended up with? I'd like to think someone like Andromeda (not her exactly, but someone from a pureblood family who held non racist values) for James and i dunno maybe a muggle for Lily? Considering muggleborns arent exactly set up for success and I cant see Lily being okay with living as a second class citizen

For reference, some heretical thoughts on James and Lily's marriage. Also some thoughts on James which include some thoughts on his relationship with Lily.

And you really want me to get flayed over the internet, don't you anon?

Well, I guess that's what I'm here for. So here we go, hopefully people very upset by this sort of thing have their anti filters up.

Why Did James Bother Wasting All that Time Chasing After Lily?

For what it's worth, especially when they're teenagers before real life sets in, I do think James likes Lily.

She's very pretty, which certainly helps, but she's also very driven, very smart, and seems to be very personable (though it does not seem as if she is close with many).

Lily has a lot of likeable qualities beyond just her face that James could be interested in.

That said, there's also her background. I think, especially for a young James in Hogwarts, Lily being muggleborn would make her very appealing.

By pursuing her, he is actively spitting in the face of the Blacks, the Malfoys, and pretty much name your smarmy pureblood family. More, Lily is... not the token muggleborn per se, but the golden standard.

She's pretty, very smart, achieves very good results, again is personable, and all around pleasant. She's the muggleborn that defies the rules and you can take to parties and say, "Wow, look how amazing muggleborns are!"

Compare her to Snape, who is a halfblood, comes from an abusive household, is impoverished, is not good looking, and is not personable.

Notice that James and friends torment the living hell out of Snape, but it's cool, they're progressive because James likes Lily.

And then there's also the challenge of it.

Lily keeps saying no.

Rather than get discouraged, this just encourages James, as it means he's not trying hard enough. James seems to be the guy who likes the chase, if he wasn't, then he would have given up years ago as you said.

Were They Ever Happy or Truly in Love?

I imagine there was a time when they were happy.

They did date shortly in Hogwarts and it must have gone well enough for the relationship to survive graduation. If it was unbearably awful they would have broken up with each other long before that point.

Now, do I think Lily knew the full extent of how much James and pals harassed Snape? No.

Do I imagine Lily had to put up with a lot of talk about how progressive James and Pals are because Sirius has an ACDC t-shirt? Yes.

Do I think Lily's life without Snape proved very bleak and she faced a bleaker future with prospects of unemployment and poverty? Yes.

Do I imagine that Lily got in the way of bro-time for James? Well, he probably made bro-time happen anyway, but she must have to some extent and I'm sure Sirius asked him, "Dude?! What happened to us?!"

But again, if they really were miserable together, they wouldn't have made it to graduation.

In love?

Well, it's hard to say, but I'm inclined to say no.

In Hogwarts they're too young, they don't know enough about each other. They might be riding high on puppy love, maybe, but that's not the same thing.

What we see outside of Hogwarts points to constant stress and hardship that would ruin even the most functional relationship. The small glimpses we do have into their marriage then (that James would run off while in hiding with the invisibility cloak, risking all of their lives, for no reason) is not good.

I imagine as the realities of being in hiding, of having a prophesied child, sunk in their relationship fell into complete disrepair.

If they were in love, I don't think love could survive that, at least, not with these two.

Why Did She Say Yes?

God, you people are going to kill me.

Well, first, Lily as a muggleborn has no prospects and after losing Snape she has no friends.

Lily's last few years of Hogwarts are desperately lonely, James seems to have toned it down and appears to be one of the few purebloods sympathetic to her, and he really seems to like her. He has never wavered in liking her once over many years.

He seems like he's changed.

Perhaps, she can give him a chance.

I imagine Lily at first tentatively agrees to go on a date, and he is charming and funny, so one date turns into two and then they're officially dating.

As for marriage.

... Yeah I just have to say it, shotgun wedding.

They get married and have a child very quickly, and granted, that seems to be the norm in the wizarding world but remember their circumstances.

Both Lily and James are active fighters in Dumbledore's illegal vigilante group, neither appears to have a career (James being old money doesn't have to but I imagine Lily tried (and failed) to find one).

Lily is muggleborn. I don't care how progressive James' parents are, as the heir of a very wealthy and established pureblood family I'm sure they looked at this red-headed muggleborn without a galleon to her name and just died of a heart attack.

True, James was their only child and the product of many difficult years conceiving, and he's from a more progressive family but...

I just see the Potters and many other of the 'lighter' pureblood families having more of the philosophy of "Muggleborns should absolutely go to Hogwarts, get an education, and have a place in society. But don't invite them over for dinner."

That James is allowed to marry Lily very quickly, with seemingly little fuss, with seemingly no obligation of turning down a previously arranged marriage (though the surviving Marauders could have left out such details when recapping things to Harry), and how quickly Harry is born in the times he's born in...

Shotgun wedding.

If the War Hadn't Happened Who Would James and Lily Ended Up With?

Well, I think the shotgun wedding would have happened regardless. But let's say that's not in the books and that there's not a war disrupting things either.

I imagine the relationship doesn't work out as they realize they have different interests and are too different of people. There's very little tying them together.

James likely marries whoever his parents arrange for him to marry. A daughter of a well-to-do established, pureblood line. Which of these women this would be is anyone's guess, but somebody. Probably not any of the Black sisters as they're already accounted for.

As for Lily, I imagine she remains single for a good while. Everyone she knows in her age range is from Hogwarts, this world is very small, and she's probably not going to end up with any of them for the issues you list.

Purebloods really don't get it. The closest are... Arthur Weasley. And when he and Sirius Black riding motorcycles are the closest your culture gets to respect, you're in for a rough dating scene.

If she does end up in a relationship it's with somebody outside of canon or non-obvious.

(And look at me not plugging my ship because I know it's ridiculous. Be proud of me readers.)

[akookminsupporter]

Adding on to what that incredible anon said about how BTS can’t explicitly say they support the LGBTQ+ community being who they are and living where they are, I think it’s important to mention that BTS aren’t just kpop idols, BTS are THE kpop superstars. They are the biggest, most successful kpop group history has seen so far which puts a huge amount of pressure on them. I mean, they’re so big they get used as soft power plays by politicians. The president has callled them the pride of Korea! Other countries’ leaders always bring them up when speaking to the president! They’re so impactful that lawmakers have made a new law regarding military exemption! BTS are setting new standards of kpop and are subsequently bringing Korea to the forefront of global entertainment. None of us, absolutely not a single one of us, not even other idols, will ever be able to relate to anything these seven men will go through. Imagine having that much pressure on you and then being expected to talk on LGBTQ+ when it’s still an issue today. Same sex marriage is still illegal in Korea, sex between men in the military is seen as sexual harassment even if all parties consented, more than 10% of respondents on a poll done in 2021 still believed it was okay for people to be fired due to their sexuality. Korea is still in the beginning stages of accepting homosexuality and many are still homophobic, imagine if they got wind that someone or multiple members of their country’s biggest global sensation support a topic that’s still on the fence for so many people. Also, we need to consider the fact that some people can be backwards. I still hadn’t come out when I told my mom I support LGBTQ+ rights and she’s been suspicious of me since then because she believes that because I support it, I must be part of the community (I am, she doesn’t know it, but it’s a very backwards view). If BTS explicitly said “We support the LGBTQ+ community,” people would be suspicious and could start up rumors that might out them. That’s an unsafe risk I never want any of them to ever fear. So yes, I do accept the rainbows and the smiles at pride flags and Joon’s entire UN speech as standing with solidarity with people like me because I understand context, I understand history, and I understand the fear of coming out or showing support when you know there will be homophobic outrage.

"I understand context, I understand history, and I understand the fear of coming out or showing support when you know there will be homophobic outrage."

Thanks for your opinion, anon.

[atinybitofau]

S A N ↱ arranged marriage au

WHEN HE’S TOO (drunk) MUCH

a/n: may contain alcoholism past/present

• you didn’t understand why San neglected you.

• you fell in love with him.

• just like any girl would.

• cause who wouldn’t?

• he was strong.

• persistent.

• ambitious.

• the epitome of perfect.

• so was it because you didn’t meet his standards for a woman?

• that he’s too much for you.

• that you’re nothing more than just a business contract.

• “You’ve been in the clouds all day, Mrs. Choi.”

• “Y/n.” you mumble, pen signing your signature in your hand. “Please.. address me as so.”

• as a descendant of a successful line of entrepreneurs.

• it’s no surprise you owned 50+ coffee shops in the country and some international.

• known to be a silent woman.

• hiding in the shadows of your predecessors.

• and notoriously known as Choi San’s wife.

• — a man of many wonders and an A class entrepreneur of his own.

• you’re a woman everyone wanted to be.

• a woman everyone wanted too.

• “Will you be joining Mr. Park to Japan this weekend? You still haven’t confirmed if you’d be joining him. On his retreat.”

• you unknowingly glance at the picture frame of you and your arranged husband.

• wanting leisure from your deprived love life so bad.

• though the idea of spending time with another man sounded sinless.

• considering the circumstances...

• “It’s your anniversary with Mr. Choi this Saturday, is it not?”

• you turn the frame face front on your table, smiling softly at your assistant. “I’m sure he wouldn’t remember anyway.”

• now you’re at home packing.

• not surprised that San hasn’t came home yet.

• in the two— no three years that you two have been married,

• it seems he sometimes forgets this was his home.

• “Yes. That sounds splendid. Of course, I will be there. Wouldn’t miss it for the world. And to you too, Mr. Kang.”

• you hear him on the phone when he comes home.

• surprised that he actually did for the first time in a week.

• you don’t say anything when he enters your shared room.

• him not minding at all that you were packing.

• “Business trip?” he asks you seeming uninterested.

• and it does hurt.

• that your own husband never seemed interested in you.

• that though you’ve fallen in love with him despite the arrangement,

• he’s never fallen in love with you.

• “Um..” you choke on your breath. “More or less.”

• he hums in response while removing his tie. “I’ll be flying to Jeju sunday morning to meet with Yeosang. So I’ll be home all of saturday. That okay?”

• you don’t see why he’s asking for confirmation.

• he’d do it anyway without one.

• “O-okay.”

• he watches you from the corner of his eyes.

• wondering why you’ve never felt detested by the relationship in spite of your shyness.

• for someone like him,

• he thinks you two are an odd couple.

• that you two would have never been one if not for the marriage contract.

• but three years has taught him better

• “And where will you be going?”

• you sniffle while zipping you’re bags, letting loose your messily tied up hair. “Japan. I’ll be meeting with a... an investor.”

• it’s not entirely a lie.

• just..

• you won’t be meeting the investor in terms of business.

• “For how long will this be for?”

• you mentally think, why was he getting curious?

• he’s never once cared.

• if it doesn’t matter to him, he shouldn’t even ask.

• “The weekend. If things go well, I should be home by Sunday.”

• he doesn’t know why.

• why it hurt him that you forgot.

• that he didn’t intend to do much this Saturday but stay home and eat dinner with you.

• maybe talk about work and relieve some stress.

• but he’d think by now you’d appreciate the anniversary.

• that he’d mean just as much as you do to him.

• “Sunday?”

• you don’t notice the hidden annoyance.

• thinking, talking to him was like talking to a wall.

• “Seonghwa doesn’t want to stay for less than a day. And well, since my schedule seems free and no appointments have been made, I made some time for him.”

• you speak to your husband like a business woman.

• how fucking senile, right?

• how honorable you two are.

• how much pride you think San has over you.

• just two people in a marriage contract.

• nothing less and nothing more.

• but San’s overwrought though.

• the hints of displeasure from you sensible in his tone.

• “Seonghwa? Park Seonghwa?”

• his mind blurs.

• crazed in a frenzy.

• at the sound of another man in place of him.

• “He’s invited me to his Japan retreat.”

• you look at San for the first time in a long time.

• and you think there was something different about him.

• his hair looked the same.

• his god like features were still in tact.

• was it his lips?

• his eyebrows?

• oh...

• OH.

• “You are aware of our own affairs this Saturday, correct?”

• you think he’s crazy.

• that he can’t pin you down.

• for not even caring for the past two— no three years.

• he had no right to ask you if you were aware.

• especially on a day he’s never celebrated with you before.

• “San, I think you’re the one unaware of our affairs this Saturday. Seeming as though you tend to forget for every year that’s passed, don’t you think you’re being too much?”

• his jaw clenches.

• eyes blinking,

• getting dizzy and filled with rage.

• — jealousy and betrayal.

• how could you think of another man?

• when he was always right in front of you!

• “I-I never forget!”

• you’re flabbergasted.

• completely disbelieved.

• “You never forget? The first, spending it with another woman. And the second with your friends in Bali? You never forget?”

• his jaw clenches and he’s in denial.

• in denial that he neglected you.

• he doesn’t feel like he did.

• “I called you. The day of and—“

• the way your lips frown makes him uneasy.

• unsettled that he’s made you so unhappy.

• he didn’t even realize...

• that he was too much.

• and not enough at the same time.

• “Then I don’t think me calling you would be much of a difference.”

• you blink away refraining from tears.

• starting to believe this arrangement meant more to him than you inititially thought.

• that fact actually hurting you more than when you thought he didn’t care.

• cause now that you know he did,

• why did he neglect you all these years?

• “I don’t know, Seonghwa... do you think I should go home?”

• Japan was fun.

• Seonghwa making your day nice and all.

• but you hated knowing San might be home.

• alone with his stresses.

• his questionable decisions that often made him resort to the unnecessaries.

• only knowing that as his wife.

• when as his wife, regardless of what happens,

• it’s your duty to cherish him as your husband.

• “You love him even though you think he doesn’t love you?”

• you sadly smile, lips buried in a scarf San gave you last christmas.

• “He might be a lousy husband. But he’s still mine.”

• Seonghwa found you admirable.

• never understood why San didn’t.

• “San may as well be the luckiest man on the planet. The dumbest one too.”

• you miss San.

• even though he was rarely there.

• you appreciated the things he gave you.

• like being your husband even though he sucks at it.

• “It’s still pretty early in SK. You might be able to make it before midnight if you leave for the airport now.”

• you look at Seonghwa with dreamy eyes.

• thinking if you hadn’t been so strung on San falling in love with you,

• you would’ve dared him to.

• “Go. And make sure he makes up for being the lousy husband he’s been.” Seonghwa kisses you on the forehead before taking your hand. “As successful as he is, adapting to loving you can’t be too difficult. Not something he isn’t capable of, don’t you agree?”

• you’re racing against time.

• three minutes away from your penthouse.

• ten minutes away from Sunday.

• your mind’s made up.

• guilty for being ungrateful.

• timid about being his wife.

• San insisted he stopped smoking months ago.

• but the copious amount of musk in the apartment was uncanny.

• you see empty bottles of liquor stranded on the floor.

• music at full volume.

• his figure staring out the balcony quiet and lonely.

• it’s not all his fault.

• because you sometimes forget,

• San used to come home to you.

• “Cheers to your wedding anniversary, San.” you hear him sigh. lit cigarette falling at his feet. “To the one failure you couldn’t afford.”

• you smile in small font.

• suddenly wrapping your scarf around his waist, pulling him into you.

• “Y-y/n?”

• he was drunk, you mentally note.

• whipping him around.

• still dreamy eyed regardless.

• “What are you.. I thought you’d still be in Japan?”

• “And I thought you’d be out with friends.” you mumble hoping he’d react sober. “Didn’t we agree on no smoking in the house?”

• “Stopped.” he answers breathless, weirdly looking sober while staring down at you. “I stopped, remember? Started today because.. because I didn’t have you.”

• “S-san you’re drunk. You don’t know what you’re saying.”

• you think his hands are filthy.

• from doing the things he used to do before meeting you.

• but you let him hold you.

• his trembling disappearing when he does.

• you curl against his palm and softly smile.

• “I haven’t.. I haven’t been good to you, have I?”

• you place your fingers over his and hum. “Well I can’t blame you for doing what you’re only capable of.”

• “I am capable! I am capable of loving you. I am..”

• you want to giggle.

• because you used to hate drunk San.

• when he’d come home gurgling.

• babbling like a baby.

• “You’re drunk, San.”

• “Y-you think so?”

• you wonder how drunk San really is.

• drunk words speaking sober thoughts, you know.

• but was he hammered enough to kiss you?

• “San, do you want to kiss me?”

• your husband pouts.

• eyes saying yes.

• waiting for you to do it.

• “Well?”

• “I-is it okay?”

• “San, I’m your wife. You don’t need my permission, dummy.”

• he’s not drunk.

• not drunk enough.

• wanted to kiss you sober.

• wants to kiss you now.

• “I don’t want.. don’t you to hate me, y/n. Don’t want you to think I’m too much.”

• so you lean up and press a kiss onto his potted lips.

• his eyes processing slow.

• “Do you think I’m too much?”

• you chuckle, nodding softly. “Yes San. I do think you’re too much.”

• “B-but you still love me, right? When I’m not there. And you like being my wife?”

• of course you do.

• I mean, through thick, it might have been difficult to.

• but you still do.

• “I didn’t sign the contract for just business, San. I wanted to love you, you know? Wanted you to love me.”

• he doesn’t need to think twice,

• about why people fall in love with you.

• about why he’s fallen in love with you.

• “Can we start over? As husband and wife. T-tomorrow when I’m sober. Can you come with me to Jeju?”

• you don’t need to think twice either.

• your schedule’s usually free.

• but you agree because it’s San who asks you.

• it’s San who wants you to make the time.

• “Let’s start tonight. By you taking a shower and sleeping beside me? You think you can do that for me, San?”

• his eyes say yes.

• and so does his lips.

• kissing you through his intoxication.

• knowing he’s capable of loving you.

• drunk or sober.

• “For the record, I like being your husband too.”

@atinybitofau

[fullmetalscullyy]

the way it was - chapter 42

summary: what if riza never went to war? riza hawkeye has just married the man she loves. six months into their marriage, an unexpected surprise stops her from following roy to the military. a canon divergence au that explores what might have happened had riza been unable to join the military. there will be plenty of family fluff, angst, and royai.

rated: m | warnings: graphic depictions of violence (updated)

read on ao3

1915

it doesn't really matter 'bout the rain

'cause we'll get through it anyway

we'll get up and start again

Roy’s shoulders rose and fell sharply with his deep sigh. He nodded in reply to Marcoh’s question. Riza watched as his expression turned from one of anticipation to determination. 

“I’m ready, Doctor.”

“All right.”

Marcoh entered the room and Riza silently gave Roy’s hand a squeeze before moving off the bed. Doctor Marcoh had to set himself up around Roy and she didn’t want to get in his way, however, couldn’t help but notice Roy’s hand lingered within hers for a moment longer as they parted. He didn’t want her to leave. Neither did Riza. Still, she moved back to her chair and watched Marcoh prepare for the time being - not that he had to do much. When everything was ready, she’d return to his side.

“Keep your eyes closed until I tell you to open them,” Marcoh instructed as he removed something from the depth of his jacket pocket. Riza couldn’t see what it was, as it was enclosed tightly within a fist. “I’m going to work on one at a time and I need your eyes to be as still as you can make them. I recognise and understand you may be desperate to see if the procedure worked, but if I’m working with a moving target that’s when accidents can happen.”

Riza’s stomach tightened at that last part. She wiped her sweating hands on her hospital issue trousers before clasping them together in her lap.

“Okay, I will. I’ll keep them closed.” Roy’s fingers fidgeted together before lowering to the edge of the thin hospital mattress. He couldn’t grip on tight, but she recognised his desire to do so, to hold onto something, anything, to anchor himself. Riza wanted to offer that. 

Glancing up at Marcoh she noted he was still busy with his explanation and initial examination.

“You will feel a sharp stinging sensation as the severed links are repaired. Your eyes will be sensitive upon first opening as well, but after a few minutes your vision should become clearer and better. So, try not to be too disheartened if the world is blurry when they first open.”

Roy nodded. “Riza?”

His call was a request, but his tone held absolutely authority within it. Curious, she leaned around Doctor Marcoh to get a better look at him. Marcoh had moved in front of Roy to assess his eyes, lifting his eyelids one after the other.

“Yes?”

A hand extended out towards her. An invitation to join him on his bed. Riza didn’t think Marcoh would protest against it, but now, the reason for the authority in Roy’s tone was understood.

She stood and granted his silent request. Gently, her hand slid into his and Roy latched on.

“I want you by my side,” he murmured.

“I’m right here, Roy. I wasn’t going anywhere.” Her attempts to pacify him were rewarded with a soft smile. It cracked the firm look of concentration on Roy’s face, which Riza had come to recognise as unease.

“I know you weren’t, but still, it makes me feel better.” He patted the back of her hand before returning it to the mattress of his bed.

Marcoh was silent as he continued his assessment and didn’t acknowledge her movement across. So, Riza studied Roy as they waited. Anxiety was almost oozing out of him now that the moment was here, so she held on to offer whatever comfort she could. It was a feeling Riza shared with him. This was not a typical medical procedure, and Riza hoped that whatever it entailed would be worth it, and that ultimately, it would work.

“Ready?”

“I’m ready,” Roy confirmed. He let loose a long sigh then nodded with his lips pressed into a thin line.

Marcoh placed the stone atop Roy’s left eye. After a brief moment of concentration the stone started to glow, and red sparks of alchemic energy leaped out of it. Riza resisted the urge to recoil away from the energy. She knew it wouldn’t hurt her, but her experience with it in the past had her instinctively wanting to move away.

Roy gasped then hissed in pain. He instinctively flinched but apparently Marcoh anticipated such a move. His hand followed Roy as he reared back slightly before halting in place immediately. Roy’s fingers gripped onto her hand with more pressure than he’d been able to apply before. His breathing picked up and Riza started to fear he was in a lot of pain. She grasped his hand tightly within both of hers and remained steadfast beside him.

“Are you okay?” Marcoh eyed his face critically.

“Fine,” Roy forced out, answering Marcoh. “I’m all right.”

“The left eye is healed. I’m going to move over to the right.”

“I’m right here, Roy,” Riza murmured. She stroked the skin of his wrist to try and soothe his agitation. Now he knew what to expect, Riza hoped it would abate somewhat. It wouldn’t stop any pain, but it may help him relax a little.

Again, red sparks ignited from the stone and Roy hissed. His jaw was clenched, and his body stiffened, but he never flinched away. Riza’s heart ached, wishing she could do something more.

“Not much longer,” she encouraged.

“There.” Doctor Marcoh’s announcement came after what felt like an eternity. “I’m finished, Colonel. That should be them healed. Keep them closed for another ten minutes,” he added quickly as a warning. “Let the repairs settle and your eyes adjust. Then you can open and test them.”

“I’ll watch the clock,” Riza offered as she gave Roy’s hand an encouraging squeeze.

He exhaled slowly and nodded. “Thank you, Marcoh.”

“I’ll give you both some time. I need to do a quick check up on Mr. Havoc.”

“Thank you, Doctor,” Riza replied, sincerely grateful for all of his help.

He nodded to them and left the room without a word. Now, they had to wait and see if the procedure had worked. It sounded almost too good to be true, so until Roy opened his eyes, Riza would have a hard time believing it.

“This is torture,” Roy chuckled.

“There’s not long to wait now,” Riza replied. She lifted a hand to brush his hair away from his eyes.

“This will be the longest ten minutes of my life. I’m sure of it.”

“I know,” she sympathised. “It’s long for me too. But it’s better to be safe than sorry. Giving your eyes time to heal is more important than rushing into it.”

“Always the voice of reason.” Roy tutted, but he still grinned.

He received a gentle nudge from her shoulder for his troubles. “Of course,” she replied evenly.

“I want to see you.”

“I know you do, Roy,” Riza replied softly, but she was quickly interrupted by Roy shaking his head slowly.

“That’s not what I meant. I want you to be the first thing I see after I open my eyes.”

Riza paused. Roy lifted the hand he was still holding towards his chest. He reached across for her other hand, which was offered without hesitation. Both were brought to rest above his heart, clutched within his grasp.

“Will you grant me my request?”

Riza snorted lightly at his passionate, but playful, way of asking. “I will grant you anything you wish, Roy. Of course, I can do that for you.”

“Good. Thank you… Because I don’t want the first thing I see again to be a standard hospital room. I want it to be the woman I love.” All playfulness had been dropped and his tone was sincere.

“Roy…” Her expression softened as she looked at him.

“I’ve missed you terribly and want it to be you. Plus, it seems only fitting,” he added as a smirk threatened to spread across his face, “that as my vision is returned, taking me out of this endless darkness, the first thing I see is the light of my life.”

Riza chalked the sudden surge of tears up to her worry and stress over this situation and how successful it would be. But he was incredibly sweet, and it made warmth spread across her chest and settle within her heart. Riza’s stomach flipped pleasantly as she gazed upon his soft features. His smile was radiant, filled with so much love and adoration that it almost took her breath away.

It was too much, but in the best way possible.

Riza lifted a hand to place it upon his shoulder gently. She tapped her finger against him three times and Roy inhaled in response. Riza’s lips caressed Roy’s lightly while her hand slid from his shoulder, up to his neck, then into his dark hair.

“You’re not allowed to say things like that,” she muttered as she leaned her forehead against his.

“Why not? Was it too sappy?” He sounded pleased with himself.

“It was pretty sappy,” she sniffed with a quiet laugh as she wiped away a stray tear from the corner of her eye.

He chuckled. “It’s only the truth, and I would never lie to you about something like that, you know that,” he grinned.

Riza pulled away. A wobbly smile graced her features as she ran a hand lovingly through his hair. She brushed his fringe off his face again and lifted herself up, pressing another kiss to his forehead.

“I love you,” she whispered against his skin.

“I love you too, Riza. Forever.”

Her head bowed to rest against his and in the silence, they remained there, still, basking in the presence of each other.

“Is it time?” His voice was quiet as it broke through the silence. Roy almost sounded scared. She felt the pressure against her hand tighten as he waited for an answer. It was a momentous occasion after all that had happened, and there was a part of Riza that was terrified as well.

What if it didn’t work? The thought was tiny as it floated around her mind, but it was still there. It held enough gravity to it that it made her pause.

It wouldn’t change anything between them. It would only alter their course and they’d be back to square one. Back to where they’d been on the Promised Day. They’d manage though, and would figure out Roy’s options, but Riza knew how much he had riding on this being a success. Not just professionally, but personally too. This was a chance to watch his children grow up. It was an opportunity for him to see them again. A chance to see her again.

“It’s time,” Riza whispered.

Roy took the deepest breath and let it out in a controlled movement.

“Take it slow,” she advised, suddenly worried that any quick action would be painful for him. “How do you feel right now?”

“I feel… Nothing. No pain, no discomfort… Nothing at all. Everything feels normal.”

“Okay. Whenever you’re ready.” Riza slid herself off the edge of the bed and crouched in front of him. She gripped onto Roy’s hands tightly and brought them to rest in the centre of his lap. “I’m right here,” Riza encouraged.

“Right here, waiting for me to see you again?” His quip was meant to lessen their unease, but it didn’t quite work.

“Yes,” she answered him with a soft tone. Pushing through her nerves she even managed to crack a smile. “That’s all I want for you. Now’s the moment of truth.”

There was one final deep breath then slowly, ever so slowly, Roy cracked his eyelids open.

Riza’s heart lifted into her throat and her smile dropped as she closely scrutinised his eyes. Immediately she noticed they weren’t the same muted grey as they’d been before. They were rich and dark, like they’d been previously, before the Promised Day. They were his eyes. The same ones he shared with their daughter. Riza tried not to let herself get too worked up, but tears had already started to appear as hope swelled within her chest.

Roy squinted as he moved his eyes to settle on her face. He was looking directly into hers but gave no indication he could see her.

“Roy?” She sounded so worried but couldn’t help herself. Riza wanted this to work so badly. It had to work. After all of this – all the discussions and all of their planning – it had to succeed. Roy had to be able to see his children again.

“It’s you,” he breathed. His tone was reverent, and the features of his face relaxed into an expression of awe and wonder.

Riza’s heart almost stopped.

His eyes widened, but Roy winced and squinted suddenly after the quick movement. It didn’t deter him, though. “I can see you.”

She surged up from her knees. Both of her hands came to rest upon his cheeks. She looked at him in amazement. Her gaze switched between each of his eyes and Roy followed her movements. He was slower, but he was looking at her directly.

He could see her.

Roy’s face lit up and he grinned. Riza thought it was the most wonderful smile she’d ever seen, so full of hope and joy. His fingers lifted to loop around her wrists, and he gripped onto her. They sat there, staring at one another in both disbelief and relief.

“Is… Is it blurry? Is it clear?”

“It’s a little bit blurry in places,” Roy answered, “but Marcoh said that would happen. Most importantly, I can see.” His voice trailed off to a whisper, suddenly overcome with the revelation. His face crumpled and at the same time Riza moved forward. Their lips met as they were both overwhelmed with the news.

“You’re the most beautiful thing I’ve ever seen,” Roy murmured against her lips. He kissed her again before she had a chance to reply. “I never want to let you out of my sight again.”

Riza let out a choked laugh. She lifted a hand to cup his cheek as she pulled away. Her thumb wiped away one of his tears. “I’m so happy for you,” she whispered.

"I missed you so much, Riza."

Roy’s arms wrapped around her shoulders. Hers snaked underneath his arms and gripped onto his torso, allowing Riza to bury her face into his chest, while Roy’s head lowered to press into the crook of her neck – on her good side. They remained there, both feeling at peace, until a knock at the door disturbed them.

“Well?” Doctor Marcoh looked at them both expectantly.

“It worked, Doctor. Thank you.”

Roy stood and strode over to him with a confidence Riza had longed to see again. When he’d walked while blind, Roy had been overly cautious. The majority of the time he had an aid, but in the rare times he didn’t, his movements were careful and controlled. Now, he stood straighter and moved steadily.

“Thank you so much,” he repeated as he shook Doctor Marcoh’s hand vigorously.

Marcoh grinned. “That’s good to hear, Colonel. I’m pleased it all went well. How are your eyes? Any pain?”

Roy shook his head.

“Any discomfort at all? And how’s the vision? Still impaired or back completely?”

“There’s no discomfort and it’s still a little blurry around the edges, but I can see clearly enough straight ahead.”

“I imagine that will be disorientating at first, so make sure you remain careful as you move. There’s no telling if it will come and go, or if it will return and progress slowly. If you lose it completely then we’ll need to consider further treatment. It may take more than one for it to return permanently.”

Riza’s stomach tightened as she listened. She’d been so caught up in the excitement of it all, that option hadn’t even been considered. Further treatment wouldn’t be an issue, Riza thought, but after regaining his vision, to have it disappear again so suddenly, would take its toll on Roy, she was sure. It would take its toll on anyone.

“Of course. I’ll keep in touch.”

“Once you’re discharged, and if you’re comfortable, I have no issue with making a house call for any check-ups.”

“That…” Roy turned to look at Riza, looking for her opinion on his offer.

“I see no issue with that, of course,” she agreed. It would certainly make things easier for them.

“That would be great. Thank you, Marcoh.”

He nodded and offered him a smile. “While I’m here, would you like your hands repaired at the same time?” He motioned towards Roy’s bandages.

Riza hadn’t even thought about that.

Roy shook his head. “No. That won’t be necessary.”

“All right,” Marcoh nodded. He handed over a card with his phone number on it. “I’ll be staying at the Central Hotel should you need me for anything.”

“Thank you.” Roy shook his hand once more before the doctor left. When he turned, his expression softened. “I could look at you forever,” he announced, walking over to where Riza had perched herself on the edge of Roy’s bed. “You know that, right?”

“I do now,” she smirked.

“Don’t get me wrong,” he murmured. His head bent low, so their faces were close, but never touching. “I could already do that. But now, after so long, that’s all I want to do.”

“The country won’t run itself while you stare at me,” Riza snickered.

“No,” he sighed dramatically, “unfortunately, it won’t. I wish it would though,” he added quickly before stealing a quick kiss.

“That’s not very responsible, Colonel,” Riza replied dryly.

Instead of replying, Roy simply stared at her. It caused her expression to soften, and Riza cocked her head to the side as she regarded him.

“What?”

He didn’t reply right away though. Roy shook his head and a fond smile spread across his face. A hand lifted to cup her cheek with such care that she melted into his touch.

“It’s nothing, it’s just…” He was looking at her with such wonder.

“What, Roy?” Her query was quiet and soft.

“That’s the smile I remember,” he grinned. The pure elation was clear as day on his face.

*          *          *          *          *          *          *          *          *

In the days following Roy regaining his sight, the team visited him one by one to offer their congratulations. Breda clapped him on the back with a grin. Fuery’s face lit up when he heard the news and shook Roy’s hand enthusiastically. Falman called from Briggs, giving Roy his first opportunity to venture out of his room by himself and walk without aid. Riza was never far from his side though and kept an eye on him, but his gait was confident and purposeful as he walked towards the nurse’s station to speak to him.

Havoc ventured through as well from his own hospital room. His physical therapy was treating him well and he was building muscle again. Riza had yet to see him physically walk, due to him being kept to the confines of his room, but she was excited to witness it. She couldn’t wait.

Roy nodded to Havoc in the doorway, who grinned in response and offered a lazy salute, along with a hello.

“It’s good to see you again, Havoc,” Roy greeted with a smirk.

He was wheeled only to the threshold of the room. Shakily, Havoc pushed himself to his feet and out of the wheelchair. Gripping his walking stick, he walked forward with a proud smile that lit up his whole face. Riza’s heart soared as she watched him take steady steps forward.

“Congratulations on getting your eyesight back, Mustang.”

“Congratulations on walking again, Havoc.”

“You already said that to me,” he commented. Havoc reached forward and shook Roy’s hand.

“Yes, but now that I can see it, I can believe it.” Roy stood from his chair and offered it to Havoc, who nodded his thanks and moved towards it.

“Are you calling me a liar, Mustang?” Havoc’s eyes twinkled with mischief as he asked his teasing question, pretending to be appalled.

“Never.” Roy placed a pillow behind Havoc’s back for support and the Lieutenant sighed happily as he sat back in the chair. “But I promised myself a few months ago, when we were in here together, that I would see you walking again. And now I have,” he grinned.

“Ah, so I’m only here to feed your ego. Got it.”

Roy nudged his shoulder to tell him to knock it off and Havoc laughed in response.

“Do you want to stay for a while?”

“I’d love to…” Havoc looked over his shoulder at the nurse who’d escorted him through, seeking permission to do so.

“I’ll come back in half an hour,” she stated before closing the door behind her.

Edward and Alphonse paid them a visit as well. Roy’s face lit up completely when he saw Alphonse Elric in the flesh and Riza watched as pride surged through him. He stood from his chair and walked towards the young man to shake his hand. Riza was sure she saw a tear in his eye after finally setting eyes on him, but she couldn’t be sure. She wouldn’t blame him because she’d felt the same way when she first saw Alphonse on the Promised Day.

“It’s good to hear you’re healed, Colonel,” Alphonse grinned. He sat across from them in his wheelchair and Edward sat beside Al in a hospital chair.

“Same to you, Alphonse,” Roy grinned. “I… I honestly can’t believe it. I’m proud of you both. It’s amazing all that you’ve achieved.

“You used the stone, didn’t you?”

The mood of the room shifted after Edward asked his question. It wasn’t accusatory, however it was serious. What was supposed to have been a heart-warming reunion had suddenly taken a turn. Riza sat back and watched the exchange quietly. Edward didn’t sound impressed that Roy had done such a thing with the Philosopher’s Stone. His lips pursed and pressed into a thin line when Roy confirmed it, but he simply nodded in response.

“That’s not really our business, Ed,” Alphonse interjected, speaking in a low but warning tone.

“I know it’s not,” he replied defensively. “Make sure you do good on your promise though,” he warned Roy.

“I will, Fullmetal.” Roy’s voice was solemn as he made his promise to the former alchemist. “It will not be in vain. I can assure you.”

“Good.” There was a brief silence then his voice softened. “Good. I’ll hold you to that.” It wasn’t a threat, per se. His tone had turned friendly, but Riza knew Edward meant every word.

“I would expect nothing less from you, Fullmetal.”

“It’s not Fullmetal anymore,” Edward added. His voice was lighter and broke some of the tension in the room. “I’m leaving the military.” He sounded like he was boasting.

“Are you going home?” Roy guessed, but something told Riza he’d been thinking this would be their course of action for a while.

Edward nodded. “I have no reason to remain within it. We achieved what we sought out to do.” He glanced over to his brother and smiled. “I guess, now it’s your turn, Colonel.”

Roy nodded. “Are you sure you want to leave? I could use some trusted advisors in my journey to the top.”

“Oh no,” Edward hurriedly assured him. “I have absolutely no interest in that.”

Roy lifted his hands in surrender. “I had to try,” he smirked.

“We’re going to go home and surprise Winry and Granny,” Alphonse replied. “I can’t wait to see them again and show them what we’ve achieved.”

“Do they know you’ve got your bodies back yet?”

The two brothers shared a look after Roy asked his question.

“You haven’t told them yet, have you,” Riza accused lightly.

“We wanted it to be a surprise!” Alphonse exclaimed after a brief silence.

“Have you at least called to tell them you’re alive?”

“Yes,” Edward replied, sounding like a teenager being scolded by a parent. “What do you take us for, Colonel? Of course we did. They know we’re okay… They just don’t know the finer details yet,” he muttered.

Both Roy and Riza lifted an eyebrow at them.

“The surprise will be worth it,” Edward reassured, before sliding down sullenly in his chair.

Riza uncrossed her arms and moved them from her chest. She shook her head fondly and smiled at them both, not doubting for a second that the surprise would be a wonderful one for Winry and Mrs. Rockbell.

“Always with the dramatics,” Roy tutted, looking heavenward.

“Dramatics,” Edward echoed. “That’s rich, coming from you.”

As the two bickered back and forth Riza smiled warmly at Alphonse. “How are you feeling, Alphonse?”

“I’m okay, Mrs. Mustang,” he replied cheerily.

“Riza,” she corrected with a laugh, for what felt like the millionth time.

“Ah, yes,” he replied sheepishly. Alphonse rubbed at the back of his neck. “Sorry.”

Riza waved him off. “Don’t worry about it. I suppose I won’t ever get you to break that habit, will I?”

“Maybe in a few years,” he offered with a tentative smile.

“I’ll take that.”

The two said their goodbyes shortly afterwards. Roy sighed as he watched them leave. A look of pride settled on his face, followed by a contented smile.

“They really did it,” Riza remarked as she sat back down in the chair beside him. She’d stood to open the door for them both.

“They did.” He shook his head and scoffed in disbelief. “I can’t believe it. It’s… It’s wonderful to see.”

“How are your eyes?”

“Fine,” he replied simply. “No issues today.”

Riza felt herself relax. “I’m glad,” she smiled in relief.

“I… don’t want to jinx it, but –”

“Then don’t say it,” Riza interjected hurriedly.

Roy froze and stared at her. “Really?”

“We better not.” She dropped her gaze. “I’m not superstitious but…” Riza sighed heavily. “I don’t want to go through all of that again.”

He was silent for a moment as he regarded her.

The potential setbacks Marcoh had warned them about did come. When Roy awoke the day after the procedure his vision was almost completely impaired again. A terrified call of her name woke Riza from sleep and she was alert the moment she realised who it had come from. Roy was lying on his back, his eyes wide open and searching, but he could see nothing. The irises hadn’t changed colour like they had before, so Riza reassured him of that. It was a sign, at least. Riza didn't know what it was a sign of, but it was something to hold onto. She’d hurried out of the room to the payphone down the hall. Doctor Marcoh must have still been asleep when she called, but assured Riza he’d see them within the hour to assess Roy’s condition.

As they waited his vision did return somewhat however there were still blind spots. Riza reassured Marcoh was on his way in and would be with them soon, but she could see the toll it was taking on Roy already. His chest heaved with deep breaths and he didn’t talk much as he lay in bed. There was a crease in between his eyebrows constantly, which Riza eventually managed to smooth out with her thumb. Once the muscles of his face relaxed she didn’t stop. She continued the action until Marcoh arrived, trying to ease some of his turmoil.

He used the stone again and Roy’s vision cleared. It was clearer than it had been after the initial treatment, but there was still a deep worry within both their minds. What if this was to be his life from now on? The stone wouldn’t last that long. It wouldn’t be feasible either. And would it ease and get better over time? No one could answer their questions because no one knew. All they could do was wait it out and see what happened.

The same thing occurred the next morning, but it wasn’t as bad. On the third morning though, Roy’s vision was clear as soon as he woke and didn’t waver. Still, Doctor Marcoh came in for a check-up, and stated he’d keep coming in early each morning from now on. Roy was quiet throughout the whole day, as if waiting for his sight to disappear… but it didn’t.

It had happened with Havoc too, he revealed to them in a grim tone on that third morning. News had reached him of what Roy was going through.

It didn’t mean the procedure didn’t work, it just meant there was more work that needed to be done, Havoc explained as he tried to put their minds at rest. Feeling had returned to his legs almost immediately after his own procedure, however there had still been numb spots, he confessed. Havoc had initially never mentioned the numbness, as he thought it was simply part of the recovery process. There were times on that first day where he’d faltered completely and the feeling left his limbs. He’d panicked, but Marcoh used the stone and it returned.

However, Havoc did reason that it was because the legs were large, long limbs, and there was a lot to work with, so they needed more work to heal everything. The eye, while smaller than a leg, required more finesse and finer tuning.

From the way he spoke, Riza thought he’d clearly considered this quite a lot. She’d really appreciated his support and reassurances during that time. Roy did too. He’d been silent as Havoc discussed it with them, but still nodded and offered his thanks in a quiet voice.

Watching Roy go through that turmoil hadn’t been easy on Riza either. Her heart broke for him as she heard his quiet, broken groans when he woke up, realising the darkness he thought he’d escaped from was back, rendering him terrified. It was a lot to go through, to have it returned and then snatched away again. It dashed their hopes slightly but Riza never gave up. She dutifully rang Doctor Marcoh. She sat at Roy’s bedside and offered him comfort, letting him know he wasn’t alone in his own dark world. Someone was there on the other side, listening to him and there for support. Just like she always would be.

It was not a regular practice, so of course they had no way of knowing how Roy would fare as the weeks and months went on. Basically, all they could do was hope for the best. 

Thankfully, the issues they’d run into hadn’t lasted for too long. On the fourth morning there were no issues at all and if anything, Roy commented that his eyesight was better than it had been before the Promised Day. Marcoh said the developments were promising. He hadn’t needed to use the stone at all that day and Roy stated his vision remained bright and clear, never once wavering.

Riza took that as a good sign and held onto it tightly.

“Okay, I won’t. Sorry.”

She glanced up at her husband, returning to the present. With an outstretched hand, he gestured for her to come over to him. Riza did so and ended up being pulled into his lap. Roy bent his head and placed a light kiss against her bandaged neck before wrapping his arms around her waist.

“I don’t want to go through it again either,” he murmured against the skin of her shoulder. He’d shifted aside the neckline of her shirt and rested his mouth upon her bare skin. They were silent but every so often, randomly, he pressed a kiss there and Riza felt herself relax against him.

“It’s time to exercise your hands.”

“Five more minutes,” he mumbled against her skin.

“Roy –”

“I want to hold you for a bit. I can do it better now,” he added, giving her waist a squeeze. He was right. He was able to apply more pressure than before. “And I want to be close to you.”

Riza leaned into his hold further and rested her head against Roy’s. “All right,” she relented with a sigh. She was not annoyed with him though. Riza understood his reasons and appreciated the sentiment very much.

It had been a long time since they’d been able to sit comfortably and hold one another like this. A while since they’d been so close. A slow smile spread across Riza’s face, realising she was happy. They remained there, simply existing within each other’s space.

After ten minutes or so, Riza extracted one of Roy’s hands from around her waist. He pouted, which made her snort quietly, but she didn’t stop. The bandages were unwrapped carefully and Riza inspected the skin beneath. It looked healthy and was healing nicely. The doctors were happy with its condition and progress.

“Slowly,” Riza murmured as Roy’s fingers twitched now that his palms were free from their confines.

With an open palm facing downwards, Roy bent his wrist from side to side slowly. After that he practiced flipping his hand over a few times. There seemed to be no obvious issues. Riza scrutinised his face carefully every so often to look for pain but could discern nothing. There was nothing in his features except concentration, accompanied by a light sheen of sweat on his nose.

Still with an open palm, Roy bent his wrist up and down this time. He grunted quietly to himself and Riza looked up sharply.

“Sore?”

“A little,” he grimaced as he tried to bend it again.

She placed a hand atop his to make him stop. “Move onto the next one.”

His fingers curled inwards carefully towards his palm but couldn’t go too far into a fist. Riza nodded and noted in her mind his progress. Once he’d tried to make a fist five times she murmured for him to take a break. After a minute, he did another five repetitions. After that, they moved onto the next exercise. Roy had to try and touch each finger to his thumb. The pointer made it the furthest, but the others had a long way to go yet. However, progress was being made, and Riza was pleased with it.

Riza took his hand into hers and started to massage the palm and his wrist. Roy sighed beside her ear and Riza felt his body relax. They were quiet as she did so, then Riza turned his hand over and worked through the muscles on the back of his hand as well that surrounded the wound. It was a long slice. Too long.

The memory of Bradley’s sword piercing through it, and Riza seeing the other end of the blade poke through the other side of Roy’s palm, made her stomach tremble unpleasantly. Her lips pursed together, and her movements slowed without her noticing.

“Hey,” Roy called to her softly.

His hand escaped her grasp, but it wouldn’t have been difficult for him. She was already a million miles away, back in those tunnels, back to lying in a pool of her own blood, and seeing her husband being forced through the Gate against his will. The images flashed unbidden in her mind, making Riza flinch.

“Riza,” he encouraged as he brought his hand to her chin. He turned her head slowly, so she was looking directly at him. It took a lot of effort on his part, but Roy managed.

She glanced up to meet his gaze and in that moment Roy understood completely. It wasn’t the first time she’d massaged his hands, or the first time they’d done these exercises together, but right now… The reason for his injuries was hitting her again.

But one look at him… Roy was concerned, however sympathy and understanding were clear within his gaze as well. He’d been through the same thing she had, so understood completely.

Riza focussed on those dark eyes as they flicked between hers, waiting for a response. They were her anchor. They’d been so grey before, a far cry from the colour she’d always loved. Now, they were back.

Reminders of their progress since the Promised Day were right in front of her, so Riza took a deep breath and tried to calm herself, holding onto them tightly and refusing to let them go. They were healing. There was a long way to go yet, but there was clear progress. They were making their way through it together. 

“I love you.” Roy’s voice was low and he spoke slowly and evenly. However, his declaration was passionate and full of love. “And I’m right here.” His fingers guided hers to rest atop his heart. It beat steadily beneath her palm, a welcome reassurance that he was okay and they’d made it through. Roy’s expression softened and he gave her his winning smile. The one he reserved only for her. “I’m getting better and I’m not going anywhere. So are you.”

Riza wrapped her arms around his neck and rested her chin on his shoulder. “You came back,” she whispered as confirmation for herself. Her hand came to rest against the back of his head, her fingers becoming buried within his long, dark hair.

“I did.” She felt him nod. “You couldn’t get rid of me, even if you tried, Riza,” he snorted, “I’m here forever.”

His promise was as firm as his hold as Roy’s arms held her close. A kiss was pressed against her cheek, causing the corners of Riza’s lips to tug upwards into a small, pleased smile.

“I cannot put into words how terrified I was, being unable to see if you were all right throughout all of this and verify for myself that you’d been treated. I knew you had, but the mind can be cruel. Especially after what we experienced.”

Riza swallowed and nodded against him. She was acutely aware of the feeling he was describing.

However, when Roy next spoke, his voice was ever so soft and reassuring. “But… You came back as well.” He lifted his head to part them, but only far enough so they could see one another, causing their breaths to mingle together as they spoke. “You were right here waiting for me and were always by my side.”

“Of course,” she whispered.

“And I’m right by your side as well, for whatever you need,” he promised quietly. His eyes bored into hers, willing her to understand.

She smiled and nodded. Riza knew he would be, without hesitation.

When Roy tilted her head down so he could press a chaste kiss against her forehead, Riza’s eyelids fluttered closed, and she felt herself melt beneath his love and affection.

“We did it together,” he smirked at her. “We’re a pretty good team, if I do say so myself. That’s a sign we’re meant to be together, I think.”

“Well, I already knew that,” she mumbled. Her forehead came to rest gently against Roy’s.

“So did I.”

Riza released another sigh and willed the rest of her unease to leave her alongside her breath. Roy was right. They were both alive and not going anywhere. Soon, they’d be home. Soon, their family would be whole once more.

“We always make our way back to one another.” Roy pulled away and lifted both his hands to her forehead. He brushed her fringe aside and offered her a loving smile as his fingers trailed across her brow, to her temples, then down to her chin. His light touch made her shiver and caused gooseflesh to rise on her arms. Her scalp tingled pleasantly. “We always find each other when we need it most, don’t we?”

Riza buried her face into the crook of his neck. “We do,” she whispered against the column of his throat. There was a comfort to his words that she couldn’t describe but was grateful for.

“And we always will,” he added firmly. His arms wrapped around her waist. “After everything that’s happened, I wasn’t kidding about not letting you out of my sight again,” he chuckled. “You know I’ll do it too,” Roy teased.

She snorted lightly. “That’ll prove difficult with our work.”

“How about not straying far from your side then? Previous commitments – like work – permitting, of course.” Riza could hear the smirk in his voice.

“I like that,” she smiled against him. Riza tightened her arms around his neck, holding him closer and Roy returned the gesture. He pressed another light kiss atop the bandages on her neck, then one upon her temple. “I like that a lot,” she whispered.

Because they always would find a way back to one another. They already had, so many times before. Not much could keep her and Roy apart. That had already been proven. That’s just the way it was with them, and the way it always would be.

[normal-thoughts-official]

I see so many people saying that lydia was/is a qUeEn and a hEro for being okay when alec kissed magnus at 'their wedding' but like...She knew that alec had feeling for magnus before the wedding and still was going to go ahead and marry him which meant that alec well them both would've been unhappy🤷🏽‍♀

I just don't like lydia tbf, she kinda rubbed me the wrong way but that might be just me😕

diaiduahs ok so i debated with myself whether or not to answer this question for like 0.3 seconds before i realized that wait a minute, i have never shut the fuck up about what i think ever in my life. who am i kidding. but anyway fair warning that my opinion on lydia is pretty unpopular among "both sides" of that debate (i don't think there are ever just two sides to any issue but anyway)

also warning that i'm not dissing you or your ask in particular, just giving my opinion based on what i've seen and heard on this debate in the fandom

here's the thing. i don't think she did wrong by accepting alec's marriage proposal. i wouldn't say she did right either, in my opinion her choice was pretty morally neutral

because it would have been different if alec had no choice on the matter and she chose it knowing it would make him miserable. but that's not what happened at all

alec did have a choice. in fact, the fact that he proposed to lydia was something that made his parents (who are the main responsibles for his closeting) fucking pissed. he wasn't doing it to please them; he was doing it as part of his own plan

and again, don't get me wrong, i'm not saying that this wasn't extremely traumatic and awful to him. he wouldn't have even considered it if it weren't for the awful conditions of his closeting and abuse, and he would have been miserable for the rest of his life. but alec had agency. he wasn't helpless. he was making a decision based on the shit conditions that he was in, trying to ensure his own safety and success. the conditions were horrible, but every decision we make is based on the environment we are in. and acting as if lydia was somehow forcing him into this marriage is acting as if alec didn't have autonomy to make his own choices, which i think is pretty unfair to him

one more time! i'm not saying it isn't fucked up that he had to make that decision. i know that ppl a lot of times say "lol it was their choice" regarding ppl staying in the closet to wave off the trauma of closeting and debates about queerphobia in general. the closet wouldn't even be a choice that's presented if queerphobia didn't exist. no one's choises exist in a vacuum, we are all dealing with the material conditions of our lives, and queerphobia is a huge part of that; one that makes the best choices for us impossible. so like, no, he wasn't BY ANY MEANS 100% free to choose what he wanted. but he DID have agency in his decision to propose to her

besides, what was she supposed to say? "no ur gay lol"? it's not like outing him would have been an amazing move. and of course she could have said no and not said that it's because alec is gay and would never be happy with a woman, but honestly, what the fuck kind of right does she have to make that choice for him? she doesn't even know him. she has no right to tell him what he should do with the plate of shit that homophobia and abuse has handed to him, especially when he obviously is trying to keep his agency and have control over his situation and choosing to marry lydia was a part of that. again, maryse was pissed. when alec chose to marry lydia, he was doing it for himself

what would have happened if she had said no? he would have ended up marrying another girl. and probably one that his parents picked, not him. like, let's please give alec credit here. he chose to stay in the closet, but he was fighting being just a pawn in his parents' game from the start. and it's not like either of them had any illusions about what this marriage was; it was a business arrangement at best. alec called it a partnership. they both just wanted to use that situation to their favor. and in shadowhunter culture, that's normal (i'm not saying that's a good thing, just that it's a fact that influences her decision to say yes as well). like, do you think maryse and robert loved each other? we haven't really seen any other shadowhunter marriages so i can't say for others, but it sounds to me like marriages of convenience were pretty standard. if i were alec, id probably be relieved that she had said yes, because then they'd both be in a situation where they knew exactly what they were getting into and he didn't want to pretend

and don't get me wrong, i'm not saying she did alec a favor or some shit. i'm just saying i can't really see how she is doing him harm in that situation, and that i think this take is taking away a lot of alec's agency and if i were him i'd be pretty pissed about that lol

but tHEN we have the Lydia Stans who ALSO take his agency just as much with this absolute nonsense take that she was a "hero" because she "let" him call off the marriage. excuse me lol? he wasn't hers for her to "let" him do anything. what could she even DO to "not let" him kiss magnus? at best, she could have thrown a tantrum. which would have been pretty ugly, but like. pointless. she can't make him stay and if she had tried to this would make her a fucking asshole and a villain. but the fact that she wasn't a villain doesn't make her a hero lmao

she did the bare minimum! sure, she was gracious about it, it was nice that she said that he deserved to be happy, but still the bare minimum. it was alec's choice, not hers. she doesn't have any right to force him into this marriage, and she didn't have the means to, either, which is part of why i think her choice to accept his proposal was morally neutral

and god it's annoying as hell that ppl act as if she was doing some kind of favor by not being incredibly violent and homophobic and trying to force him into a marriage with her lol? like not being homophobic should be the least we expect. and again, alec can make his own choices. he didn't need her permission to do jack shit

so when it comes to the whole alec situation, i'm pretty neutral towards lydia. it's whatever. she was barely there for that plotline anyway. when it comes to the doyalist perspective of it all, i am pissed as hell that she seems to be so popular within the fandom as if she did something incredible or whatever, but my feelings towards her as a person/character would have been pretty neutral

but tHEN we have the fact that "both sides" of this debate openly and completely ignore all the other fucked up shit she did, like trying to arrest izzy for saving a downworlder's life (idc if she changed her mind, it was still gross) or her openly racist comments. her comment about raj should "cut back on the smartass after being manhandled by a warlock" was one of the racist comments that stuck with me the most in tHE WHOLE ENTIRE SHOW, because like. what??? warlocks are literally immortal powerful beings with access to magic shadowhunters can't DREAM of. and the "warlock" she's talking about is MAGNUS BANE, not only one of the most powerful of them, but someone that she supposedly admires??? like, my god, she was all but fangirling about him coming to the institute and then it's like. wow raj how could you lose to someone so inferior

like are you kidding me???? tell me how this comment makes ANY sense whatsoever unless you are the most shadowhunter supremacist person to have ever lived. there is no reason at all to presume that losing to a warlock is humiliating (especially considering how them powerful they are) unless you believe that shadowhunters should be inherently better than them at everything

but we never talk about that, now do we

so...... the super lydia-positive corner of the fandom annoys me to no end but overall this whole discussion just tires me from "both sides". i don't like her, and i hate that she is so loved when the shit she did is ignored and most of the stanning comes from a pretty belittling vision of alec anyway, but i also think the anti-lydia side focuses entirely on the wrong issues regarding her character

[nowoyas]

Floriography 4

First - Previous - Next (Coming soon!)

A/N: DID Y’ALL THINK THE PRO GAMER MOVE WAS A NORMAL UPDATE? PSYCHE! DOUBLE UPDATE TIME! I’ll hopefully end up with a banner for this fic I actually like soon so I can start using that instead. It’s slow going, but I’m toying with a few ideas. In the meantime, a precious fantasy Izu gif will have to do uwu The most important part is that I named both kingdoms now <3

Chapter Summary: Day one of the trip. It Begins.

Warnings: none, I don’t think!

Word count: 3600+

"That was very courageous of you," a voice greets you as you take a moment to breathe, "though I have to say that, were I anyone else, I'd be terrified for you right now."

Your eyes snap to the voice's source, not finding a servant like you'd sort of been expecting. Instead, Queen Inko herself stands before you, looking you over with concerned eyes.

"I can lead you back to where your party is preparing if you'd like, dear. You were probably planning to seek out Izuku again, but it's best that you save your energy, and I'd like to speak with you, if that's all right."

"Oh, um, yes, I'd like that. Thank you, your Majesty." You're careful to soothe yourself back into Proper Mode™ as you speak. "I... apologize that you've overheard me acting so disgraceful. To your husband, no less."

"You don't need to apologize, Princess. Not to me or to anyone, regardless of what my husband thinks. I actually wanted to apologize for his behavior. I know my husband can be a bit... demanding."

You nod. "You don't need to apologize to me, ma'am."

"Please, call me Inko. You're going to be like my daughter soon enough, there's no need to be so formal with me when we're alone."

"R-right. Of course... Inko... Y-you can call me by my name as well, not that you needed my permission."

Moons, she's such a stark contrast to her husband that you have to wonder how they ever married. This woman has the sweetest, kindest smiles and looks so much like her son that you have to relax around her.

"That's kind of you, [name]. Have you been getting on well with Izuku?"

You nod slowly. "Yes, I have. We write each other letters every day, and he's been very sweet to me. Of all the men my parents could have chosen to force me to marry, I'm glad it was him."

Inko smiles sweetly. She doesn’t seem to pay any mind to your comment about your coming marriage. "I'm glad to hear that, dear."

"Um... Inko, you're... A seer, correct?"

"That's right. You're wondering why I told my husband that you would make our son into a more... ruthless king, as it were?"

"Yes, actually. As I'm sure you must have heard me say, I want no part in changing my fiancé, especially not in a way that he begins treating others poorly or exerts excessive power. He wouldn't be Izuku anymore."

"Hisashi and I happen to have... Differing opinions on what makes someone a good king."

Your eyebrows raise in surprise. "So you didn't lie, but you also forewent the truth."

"I told him Izuku would be a wonderful king with you by his side. I did not tell him by whose standards. That's all." Inko smiles softly–every time she does, you swear you can see Izuku in her smile. "I’ve always known that no matter what, my son would go on to do wonderful things. But listen to me carry on—you and the others should be off soon. Thank you for chatting with me, dear."

You curtsy lightly, the movement almost uncomfortably easy in your travel clothes compared to what you’ve grown used to. "Thank you for helping me find my way back, Inko. It was a pleasure speaking with you."

She waves you off with a smile, and you scamper up to Izuku and the knights. "My apologies for the wait."

"It's not an issue, your Highness," Eijirou says, beaming. "We've just finished up the final preparations, so we're ready to go whenever!"

"Great! We should leave early, yes?"

Izuku nods as he approaches. "If you're ready, then we're all set to set off!"

You nod your affirmation, following as the group sets out. The knights are careful to center you and Izuku, and it doesn't take long for Izuku to strike up a conversation. "So, how did your talk with my father go, if you don't mind my asking?"

"Oh, I don't mind!" you chirp. "Actually, I–" You freeze, nearly stumbling as the realization of what you just did finally sinks in properly. "–oh moons, your father is going to have me killed–"

"Woah, what?" Izuku carefully steadies you before you can hit the ground. "A-are you alright? You're white as a sheet all of the sudden."

"It's a little embarrassing to admit, but..." You chew the inside of your lip. You don't want to tell Izuku what his father thinks of him—if he's anything like your own father, Izuku probably already knows, but... "I… I may have, um..." You wring your hands together as you search for the words to convey exactly just how much you’ve messed up.

"My father always did say I needed to learn my place and I think perhaps allowing myself to get properly mad and tell King Hisashi that I wouldn't ever require his approval on how I carried myself as a wife or eventually as queen might be considered strictly within the realm of 'not acting within my place'." Your lips press into a thin smile, eyes blank as you begin to truly comprehend your fate.

Eijirou, walking on the other side of you as protection, promptly bursts into laughter, clutching his sides.

"H-hey!" you squeak. "Don't laugh at me, Ei! Have you no loyalty? I just told the Demon King of Elysia that he had no authority to tell me how I would treat his son!"

"Oh, trust me, your Highness, I'm plenty loyal, but this is easily the funniest thing you've done, maybe ever." 

"I'm going to die,” you whine. “His Majesty is going to kill me, and then because I didn't come back from the trip, my father's going to have Izuku killed, and then King Hisashi will declare war against Flumeria and I'm going to go down in history as the princess who single-handedly kicked off a hundred years of war and ended two lines of royal succession, eventually resulting in the destabilization of the continent as nearby kingdoms battle to claim the land and the deaths of countless.”

"You're probably not going to be killed," Izuku reassures you gently. "At least my father has two weeks to cool down before he does anything rash?"

The fact that it’s a question, rather than a statement, doesn’t reassure you at all. "Two weeks to plot my very public assassination." You drop your head into your hands. "Two weeks to get all my affairs in order. I can’t believe I’m saying this, but perhaps my father was right."

"I don't think you'll be assassinated!" Izuku's hand rests on your shoulder in a meek attempt to comfort you. "We don't even have any royal assassins!"

"So I'm not even going to be killed by a professional? The disrespect..."

His hand smooths over your back slowly. "Seriously, you'll be fine. I'm not about to let my dad kill you before I get to see you in your wedding gown."

You freeze, face going red in record time. "O-oh, that’s comforting.”

Izuku either doesn't notice or blessedly chooses to ignore just how effective his casual comment was on you. Instead, he changes the subject. Soon, you're falling into a rhythm, walking along while talking with Izuku and the knights. It's casual, fun even. Privately, you even think that maybe you could get used to this lifestyle.

~

When you stop to rest and eat a light lunch, you're utterly exhausted. Come to think of it, you don't recall the last time you properly sweat like this. It's midsummer, and moons can you feel the heat. With a wave of your hand, you're quick to remove the layer of sweat sticking to your skin as you rest in the shade of a tree.

Eijirou approaches, holding out a flask that you gratefully accept. "Are you holding up okay, your highness?" he asks as you gulp down the proffered water.

You nod when you pause to catch your breath. "Yes, I think so. It's a little embarrassing how unused to exercise I am."

He takes a seat beside you, resting an arm on one bent knee as he grins. "Nah, it's to be expected, given you aren't exactly allowed to spend your time like this normally. You're doing great so far, just be sure to keep drinking water. His Majesty will have me hanged if I let you suffer a heat stroke out here."

Thumbing the side of the flask, you giggle at his comment. "Thank you, Ei. How do you find the other knights accompanying us?"

"Oh, they're great, your highness! Super manly, too. I'm hoping I can learn a few things from them while we're out here. King Hisashi is really strict with the knights he allows to join these trips, so I'm sure they can teach me a few new tricks!"

"Well," you start, returning the flask with a wry grin, "in the interest of 'owning my responsibility', as my dear father puts it, try not to get too carried away learning new tricks."

"Of course, your Highness! I wouldn't dream of doing something that would let you get hurt."

"Speaking of getting carried away, Princess..." The hilt of a wooden sword hovers in your field of vision. You follow it to its source to find Izuku holding it out to you, one hand behind his back as he grins. "If you're feeling refreshed, I'd be happy to assess where you are in your swordplay and begin teaching you properly."

You reach up with a grin, taking the hilt in one hand. He doesn't let go of the "blade", instead planting his feet and pulling you up to yours. "Let's start by seeing where you are. Show me your stance like you're going to fight against that tree."

You nod, placing both hands on the hilt of the sword and shifting into an approximation of a combat stance, your feet planted. Izuku nods after a minute, stepping up and gently re-adjusting you. "You need to be lighter on your feet, and loosen up your stance. In a sword fight, mobility is everything. You want to be able to turn on your feet easily so you can dodge if your opponent makes a move and counter them, but we’ll get to that later. Ideally, you’d have a shield, but for now it’s best that you just get used to the training sword.”

You hum as you let him adjust your stance. "What should I do with my other hand in the meantime?"

"Keep it tucked away whenever you don't have a shield; you don't want your opponent to go for your other arm."

The rest of your lunch break is spent under Izuku’s teaching gaze and guiding hands as he teaches you the very basics of a sword-fighting stance. Before too long, your group sets out again. There’s plenty more walking ahead of you still.

~

Travelling is hard. Izuku makes it easier, you think—when you're being asked a million questions about how you train your runic abilities and how you manage to execute an idea so effortlessly with your magic, it's hard to think about how your feet ache, how you're thirsty and tired and keep having to magic your own sweat off you so you don't feel sticky and gross. By the end of the first day of travel, you've come to love the sound of his voice as a distraction from thinking so damn much.

You almost consider sitting directly in the dirt when it's finally proposed that you all set up camp for the night to sleep. Laying in it, even. Your mother would be scandalized if she could hear how you're thinking. A wave of your hand removes another layer of sweat, and you eventually give in and sit down with a thump.

You nearly slump into the dirt as you catch your breath. Around you, the knights and Izuku are busily setting up camp. The firewood being collected is piled nearby, and you watch for a long moment before moving to heave yourself back to your feet. "I'm not sure how I can help," you admit. "This is my first time even being outside for so long."

"We need a clear area with no plants or grass to build the fire on," one of the knights says. "But I'm not sure how I feel about asking you to..."

"If it's simply a matter of me not knowing how to prepare the area correctly, I understand, but please don't try to prevent me from helping simply because of my station. I'm not here simply to make your jobs more difficult."

A knight—a woman knight, no less—crouches beside you, offering a container of water with a kind smile. You accept it gratefully. "If you'd like, your Highness, I can show you how we normally set up the fire tonight, and once you've learned how to do it, we can assign that as your job for the rest of the nights that we camp outdoors."

You nod, sighing in relief at the cold water washing down your throat. "I would appreciate that, miss knight. Do you mind if I ask several questions? I'm afraid I'm not exactly educated on matters like these."

"Not at all, your Highness. Ask as many questions as you'd like."

"Well..." You falter immediately. What if the question on your mind is actually really stupid? It wouldn't do to embarrass yourself so heavily, but... "What is the point of setting up a fire when it's already so hot out?"

She gives you a kind smile as she clears away some leaves and twigs from the dirt. "It may be summertime, but we still need to cook our meal for the night, and the smoke from the flames drives away insects that may bite or sting us while we rest. There's plenty of uses for the fire that have nothing to do with its warmth, though you may find it gets much colder once it's dark."

You nod, watching her as she flattens a palm against the dirt. "I see! It's a little embarrassing to admit, but I hadn't thought about the fact that we'd be taking care of our own meals while out here." 

"All of this must be very new to you, your Highness."

"Regrettably, yes. I'm afraid the rules I've grown up under have led me to a very sheltered worldview."

"Well, that's the point of these trips, I imagine. His Highness has been making excursions like this for a few years now, and while he does get to speak to the leaders of towns and cities under his rule, I think it's more useful that he learns about life outside the palace. You can't learn humanity if you spend every day amid stone walls." Stones begin to rise up from the ground, accompanied by the distinct scent of a library. Once she's collected a pile of them, he directs her runes to draw a large circle in the dirt.

You contemplate her words as you watch her work, taking careful mental notes on what she's doing.

"We need to create a ring of stones to make the fire in, about the size of the circle I've just drawn," she explains. "If you'd like, your Highness, you can get started on arranging the stones while I collect some of the wood for the fire."

You nod, turning your attention to the pile and grabbing the first rock to set down on the ring drawn for you. It's easy work, but you take it seriously right up until you reach for the last rock and are greeted with a blast of heat that causes you to yelp and pull your hand back.

You retrace the scent of gunpowder to its source—the knight Kacchan, who typically stays by Izuku's side. He's leaned up against a tree, glaring at you with crossed arms. "Pay more attention."

You glare, affronted. "Excuse me?"

He points at the rock you'd been about to grab, where some... creature with far too many legs now lays dead. "That thing can't cause any serious health issues, but I doubt you would have been very happy with the pain its bite puts you in. Highness."

You brush it away with your runes, not wishing to touch it bare-handed. "Well, thank you for assisting me. If I hadn't known better I'd have thought you were attacking me, though."

He clicks his tongue, turning burning red eyes away from you. Is he not going to help? It looks like he just set up a pair of tents and then decided to kick back and watch you set rings around a fire.

"Is there something you need to be doing, or...?"

"It'd be stupid of us to leave you without one person watching you at all times. You're not used to being outside as it is, and if someone tries some strange magic on you, someone has to be there to save you from getting killed. Or bit by one of the most painful centipedes in Elysia because her Highness can't pay attention."

You try not to let show just how irritating his comments are. Instead, you get back to work on arranging your rocks just in time for Momo's return. 

She continues to walk you through the process—you wave a hand to take notes as she teaches you the different types of firewood, things you shouldn't do, and so on. Before long, you have a pretty decent fire set up, with the help of some magic, and the other knights have returned from their various duties. Still only two tents are set up, and honestly, you're a little afraid to question it.

You do anyway.

"Why are there only two tents, if you don't mind my asking? Surely those two aren't large enough to house everyone for the night."

A broad-shouldered night with dark hair answers your query, waving his hands about as he speaks. "The knights will be resting outside the tents, your Highness! It's not proper for a lady to share such close sleeping quarters with a man she is not yet married to, and it would be unseemly for you to change where anyone could see you. To keep carrying burdens low, only our more royal travelers will be sleeping in tents."

You frown. "I see. Thank you for your explanation, sir..."

"Ah! My sincerest apologies, your Highness. I am Tenya of the Iida family. We have a long lineage of successfully keeping royalty, such as yourself, safe. It was dishonorable of me not to introduce myself sooner, ma'am."

"Oh, you needn't worry yourself so, Sir Tenya. I've taken no offense." Besides, it's not as if anyone could offend you next to Kacchan's attitude towards you and seemingly everything in existence. "Though, I am a little worried at the prospect of all of you sleeping outdoors with no covering. Aren't we at risk of animals or attack?"

"Only slightly more so than the protection a tent affords, your Highness. All of us will be cycling through staying awake for part of the night and staying on guard against that very threat. The weather is a greater threat than any person or animal could be to you, ma'am."

"The weather?"

"Yes. If it rains, even in the heat of summer, it could cause someone's body temperature to drop to dangerous rates if we can't find a place where we can start a fire."

You hum, making a mental note of the information. As the meal carries on and things are handled, you continue to ask questions and receive answers, and before long, you're retiring for the night, more than grateful to finally, finally lay down and get some rest.

Successfully dressed in your nightclothes, you're greeted with the scent of peaches and lemongrass for only a moment before a folded letter lands in front of you, accompanied by a single yellow lily.

You can't help but smile. He sent me a letter when I'm sleeping only a tent away?

As you lay down to sleep, you call forth just enough runes to light your tent for reading. They float overhead, casting a gentle glow as you twirl the lily between two fingers.

My Highness,

Being able to travel with you today and truly speak was a gift. The lily is a thank you for accompanying me on this trip—the long treks are much more enjoyable with you at my side. I know these are all things I could have said to you in person for once, but honestly, [name], I find it easier to sleep when I have written to you. I hope you'll forgive that I don't recount to you the day's events in tonight's letter—I spent the day thinking about the beautiful princess walking at my side, so I have forgotten most of it.

It's said that, and my experiences and reading have both confirmed, one cannot smell their own magic at work. In a literal sense, this makes me slightly sad for you—will you truly never be able to smell the scent of fresh bread and warm vanilla when you work with your runes? Your runes, your soul smells like home in a way you and I have not known, and I pity everyone who will not get to spend their lives smelling it. I imagine love smells quite like the air around you—warm, safe, and inviting.

I hope you rest well and dream of me.

Your Prince,

Izuku

The letter is safely tucked away in your bag, the lily rested on the opposite side of the tent so you don't accidentally crush it. With a few waves of your hand, you acquire the paper necessary to pen the morning's response and rest it next to the lily, to be dealt with in the morning.

For now, you dismiss your light and fall into sleep. Tomorrow is another exhausting day.

Tags: @tooloudarts​ @sapid-rose​ @xxangelpridexx​ @birds-have-teeth​ @icythotsenpai​ @warmchoccymilk​ @wesparklebitch​ @izoodles​ @fujimoribaby​ @my-bnha-things​ @denise-the-death-goddess​ @themerpenguin​  @dragonempress123​ @imabootywarrior​ @the-secret-thief​ @venusianpink​ @chickynn​ @lianatriestosurvive​ @frog-face-wolfhard​ @akariblue​

[jeannereames]

Was likely that Alexander and Hephaistion's relationship was a Kathryn Howard/Henry VIII situation, with Hephaistion coerced by his family to become Alexander's confidant/best friend/lover. If he was forced into the relationship, do you think he eventually fell in love with Alexander, or stayed with him for power or because he was too scared to say no? The letter referenced by Aelian implies Hephaistion's considerable sexual influence; although Aelian isn't very reliable, do you think it likely?

Let me explain a little about the Macedonian court to explain why the above is unlikely.

Most folks are familiar with the institution of the Royal Pages, or “King’s Boys” (Basiliskoi Paides). Following NGL Hammond, these boys were c. 14-18. (Although if they had a strict age threshold, it’s hard to say; I suspect Hammond may have been unduly influenced by the Athenian institution of the ephebic military service, which was set at 18 to enter.)

Anyway, in addition to the Royal Pages, we also have a unit called the “Hunters” (Kynegoi), associated with Herakles. What they did is unclear, but seems to have been for boys about 18+, again, upper-class (Hetairoi). Various suppositions have been supplied, but I like Hatzopoulos’s (if I remember right) that they may have functioned rather like a “police force” outside Pella in the countryside of the lowlands, as officer-training. It makes a certain amount of sense, as it would be good experience for young men to learn to think on their own in dangerous situations. It seems like a logical extension of the Royal Pages. Alternatively (or perhaps in addition, as the Kynegoi were not—it seems—a military unit) boys exiting the Pages entered the Pezhetairoi (under Philip) or the Hypaspists (under Alexander): a specialist unit with picked men, especially those “bigger” than average (taller, more bulky). Hephaistion appears to have gone into that unit at some point.

Now, as you can imagine, the competition and back-biting would have been ENORMOUS in either group, to get the attention of the king. But throw the prince into the mix, and it was more so.

In addition to the King’s Boys, royal princes appear to have had a group of young men semi-assigned to them by the king: the syntrophoi. These are picked contemporaries, almost certainly most from the Hetairois class, who were “raised” and educated with him. Meant to be his playmates…and eventually his high-ranking officers. It’s what Curtius refers to when he says Hephaistion was “raised and educated” together with Alexander. He was one of the syntrophoi. Each prince had his own set. We don’t know how many they numbered (probably varied), but IF the gymnasion recently discovered near/at Mieza is any indicator, a prince (especially the one designated as heir) might have as many syntrophoi as the king had Hetairoi: a hundred or so.

(In Dancing with the Lion, I didn’t want to juggle that many boys, but also, I wrote the book before that ginormous gymnasion was found. So while I did have a gymnasion there, it wasn’t anywhere near so large. I’d have reduced the number of boys anyway. There are enough unfamiliar names floating around as it is!)

So I wanted to explain how the court worked, in order to understand how Hephaistion would have entered into Alexander’s personal circle. What his roles might have been.

As a syntrophos of Alexander, Hephaistion’s parents may well have encouraged him to seek royal attention and approval, as that would reflect well on their family. But he wasn’t “chosen” to be Alexander’s best friend. He would have had to fight and elbow his way into that position. Competition was standard for Greek (and Macedonian) culture. Something about Hephaistion attracted Alexander. I doubt it was anything purely sexual. Hephaistion’s isolation at the court, if he was, indeed, of Attic or Ionian extraction, may have made him valuable because he didn’t have lots of family to divide his loyalties (from Alexander). But I’m sure it was more than that.

It’s okay if they just, you know, liked each other. 😊 Not everything is transactional.

We know that Alexander considered him very dear, and seems to have for a while. Sabine Muller and I disagree over when Hephaistion joined Alexander’s court, but even if we follow Sabine’s timeline,* which makes him an adult, not a boy or teen, he appears to have become important to Alexander fairly early.

We don’t know how Hephaistion felt, except by extrapolation. I tend to believe the affection was mutual, not one-sided or opportunistic from Hephaistion. Here’s why:

1) Alexander was a smart guy, and a prince from day one. He would’ve learned to smell sycophancy in childhood. It’s a survival tactic. No matter how good of an actor Hephaistion may have been, long-term, an act would have worn thin. In fact, I think Hephaistion’s importance to Alexander was precisely because it was genuine. Alexander got lucky and found a true best friend—a rare thing for kings.

2) As for why they got along… IME, smart people in positions of authority (who are not narcissistic**) may put up with and find use for yes-men/women for a while, especially in “underling” positions. But they grow tired of them long-term. Hephaistion and Alexander were close for years. And, if I’m right and they’d met by Mieza (if not before), they were friends, even best friends,*** for 19 years. That’s longer than most modern marriages.

Therefore, I’ve always seen Hephaistion as someone uniquely able to keep up with Alexander, and who was honest with him (something Curtius asserts). In short, Alexander not only found that rare thing—a true best friend—he found one smart enough to match him, but who didn’t elicit a response from his over-developed “competition” gene.

As I’ve said before, all of that is why I find their story so compelling. In a competitive, calculating world, it seems refreshingly real.

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

*“Hephaistion,” Lexicon of Argead Macedonia, Heckel, Heinrichs, Muller, Pownall, Frank and Timme, 2020.

**Alexander was not a narcissist. I’ve seen him accused of it, especially lately with Trump as a model, but narcissists are rarely so successful (their own delusions prevent it), and he just doesn’t tick enough DSM diagnostic boxes, for me.

***Remember that, for the Greeks, philos was a higher position than erastes or eromenos.

[pinkhairedlily]

In Retrospect

Chapter 6 of The Spring He Came Back | 6 of 12

Hitsugaya had a plan – become the youngest tenured faculty in the academy and have countless watermelon contests with Baba and Momo. Graduation and tenure meant freedom to come home, to live out the rest of his days with the only family he knew. What he did not take into consideration was the prospect of marriage.

“That’s your plan?” Rangiku asked incredulously. Hidden between those words, he knew, was mockery. “You really are going through puberty.”

“Shut up, Rangiku. What do you know?”

“As a lady soon to reach the prime age of 18, I know a lot more than you. Raging hormones, pulls of attraction, intense infatuation-“

Hitsugaya had to cut her off before she ventured into more delicate matters, Rangiku-style. “Yeah, I get it. I don’t intend to marry.”

“Unless you see yourself marrying Hinamori, then you’re set for life. Otherwise, it’s an overly simplistic plan dead set on failing.”

“I don’t think of her like that. She’s just…my friend or like a sister.”

Rangiku didn’t say anything back then, but she brought it up again during their trip to Karakura. “Hey Hitsugaya. If you see Momo as your sister, why do you go through the extra mile for her? Sneaking out to meet her? Studying how to preserve daffodils? Renting out the custodian room? With family, you assume they’ll always be there, but you act as if you always need to do something for her to stay.”

He pretended to doze off right at that moment to avoid answering her question, simply because he was also confused. Momo is home, that he knew for sure. When the academy opened its gates for general admission, he half-expected Momo to apply. She was curious of the world and has a way with nature and plants. She would be interested in a formal education, at the very least. When she got accepted, he was beyond happy despite the black and white rules of classism and made-up hierarchy. When she told him she would like to be considered as a Soul core member, he wondered if that was her personal dream. Regardless, he rooted for her success. He always believed in her capabilities, and he never saw her lagging behind. She has her own pace and her own road to pave while he has his. In his mind, they were two separate journeys hoping to merge at the end of their respective successful conclusions.

So when did the realization set in that their paths have indefinite forks, forever parallel in their progress? Was it when he heard the uncertainty in her voice when their friends told her about the repercussions of her eventual Soul membership? Was it the twinkle in her eyes when she first told him she volunteered to assist Aizen in his studies? Was it the delivery of the news from Unohana that Aizen did not advocate for her membership to Soul, stating that Momo herself denied the offer? Or was it the tacit recklessness of her fieldwork which left Baba alone in the process?

“Where the fuck did you go, Momo?”

Tired eyes stared back at him and she mustered an apologetic smile. “I was in a fieldwork, Shirou. I’ll make it up to Baba, I promise.” Before she could take any step further, she suddenly collapsed on the ground. He ran towards her in a flurry, his heartbeat pounding wildly on his chest. He brought her inside, his feet knowing where her room was, and his mouth calling for Baba. Momo was running a high fever, possibly from fatigue and extended exposure to foreign elements.

“Do I need to call a doctor?” Baba was breathless as she entered the room. She placed her palm on her grandchild’s forehead and released a breath in relief. “We don’t have to. I’ll brew a medicinal tea. Help me gather the herbs Hitsugaya.”

The sun was setting when he got back, but Momo was still unconscious. He sat next to her futon and replaced the towel on her forehead. Somehow the temperature lowered down. It was so unlike Momo to leave Baba alone for two weeks, and especially during her birthday. He couldn’t help but feel angry towards Aizen. It was clear he was overworking her with no regards to her physical health. He didn’t even bother to check if his assistant was in good condition when they wrapped up the on the field. Then again, Momo was not the type to complain and openly state her well-being.

Books, notes, and papers were strewn around her once immaculate room. Too busy and overworked to clean, he thought. A folder with the label ‘References’ caught his attention. Curious if it contained the literature she was studying, he opened it. Contrary to his expectation, it was full of Aizen’s university records – from his student days to his faculty experience. The professor should have been tenured by now, considering his qualifications, publications, and pedigree, but he kept bouncing from one university to another. Maybe he just doesn’t want to settle down?

It dawned on him that Momo’s admiration for Aizen ran deep. She deferred the membership because that would take her away from the professor’s side. She didn’t need the academy or the prestige of being identified as a Soul. She only needed Aizen’s referral to apply in the same universities he studied in. Unfamiliar emotions rose to the surface. She chose a dream away from his side but closer to the professor’s. The fork in their roads was a deliberate, conscious decision, and he felt slighted at the implication.

Beside the folder was a photocopy of a list of equations and diagrams. Scrawled at the bottom were notes in a handwriting very familiar to him. Why was the work of his internship mentor, Urahara Kisuke, in Aizen’s studies?

Hitsugaya was broken out of his reverie when Momo stirred from her sleep. He hovered above her, checking again her temperature and called for Baba. She stared at him through her hooded eyes. “You stayed, Shirou?”

“Of course, silly. No one can drag your heavy body from the ground but me.”

“Did you win?”

“It was a draw. Ishida was too good for us and could have won with a landslide, but thank God Ichigo messed up his presentation.” He assisted Baba in helping Momo drink the herbal medicine. The old woman was near tears when Momo apologized for missing out on her birthday.

“My dear, just rest and recuperate. We’ll never leave your side. Let’s celebrate on another day, okay?” Baba placed a soft kiss on her forehead. Momo nodded weakly.

Baba shuffled out the room, a weight lifted off from her shoulders. “I’ll be preparing dinner, Hitsugaya. Are you going to stay the night?”

Momo was out of the woods, and Baba has all the ingredients for medicine. He was worried, but ultimately, he knew he wasn’t needed here. “I should go.”

A hand reached out under the blanket and wrapped itself loosely around his wrist, the fingers cold and clammy. “Shirou.” She didn’t need to say anything more. It was the silent plea in her voice and his uncontrollable urge to care for her. He swayed to her words as if he was programmed to do so the day he set foot in this world,

“On second thought, I might sleep here, Baba.” The old woman smiled at her two charges, happy to see them reunited despite the circumstances. She hummed a tune on her way back to the kitchen.

Hitsugaya also smiled, wanting time to revert to days of tranquility and blissful ignorance. He plied her fingers off his wrist, wanting to place it back under the comfort of her blanket, but he found himself wounding his own fingers through hers. He glanced at her face at any sign of objection and discomfort. “Is this okay?”

“Hmm.” She tightened her clasp on his hand and fell back to her deep slumber a moment after. He wished to have this privilege repeated when she regains her clarity, but he knew they’d be a fumbling mess of embarrassed individuals. It’s okay to stay like this.

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

They were granted two weeks of vacation after the Karakura event, the remaining of which Hitsugaya spent with Momo and Baba. With two people keeping her in close observation throughout her full recovery, Momo had to temporarily stop writing research drafts. She was on bed rest in the next two days with Hitsugaya beside her. The following day, she was granted permission by Baba to walk around the compound, and on the next day, Hitsugaya and her slipped out to the meadow, still brimming with daffodils but some parts have wilted to signal the start of winter.

“We should buy a cake for Baba. Do you think there’s a watermelon-flavored one?” Momo busied her fingers, making crown out of the flowers. They never got around to talk about her denied confirmation to Soul yet.

“Your saturation point must be too high. We have been devouring that fruit since your bed rest.” But he didn’t want to be the person to bring it up first. “Let’s stick with vanilla and caramel. I’ll find one in the town central tomorrow. Can’t believe it’s gonna be another the start of another semester again.”

“Shirou?”

“Hmm?”

Her fingers stopped working on the flower crown, but she did not raise her eyes to him. “I won’t apologize for the Soul offer. I don’t want it at the moment.”

That hurt him in more ways than one. “Okay.”

“What?” She whipped her head back at him, wondering why he wasn’t angry.

Well, he didn’t have any right to be angry, after all. It wasn’t her plan. He wasn’t on her plan, and no matter how much he wanted her to accept the membership and stay closer to him, it still stood that he won’t be part of her plan. He has no right to take that choice away from her because….he was just a friend. “Just promise me you won’t overwork yourself.”

He was thankful that she smiled, having been relieved of the burden to articulate the why’s behind her decision. Frankly, he also didn’t want to hear them directly from her mouth.

“I’m not sure about that, but I’ll try!”

“For all that it’s worth, I hope he compensates you enough. Or put your name as his co-author.”

“Huh?”

Questioning eyes prodded more explanation from him. “Compensation. You know, salary that professors give to their RAs? Funding usually covers those fees. It’s also standard academe ethic to acknowledge them in their papers or have them as their co-authors.”

Momo’s face was a blank slate.

That can’t be right. Aizen did those, didn’t he? Hitsugaya opened his mouth again to pry the specifics of their contract, but Momo put on her jovial self, her defense mechanism. He decided not to push her, given that she just recovered.

“This would look good on you.” She nimbly placed the flower crown on his head, her smile breaking into laughter at the shock and embarrassment on his face.

“Get this off Momo before someone sees us!”

“Oh come on, just five minutes please.”

He relented, only to prolong her laughter in his presence. “I can’t say no to you.”

She scooted closer to him and arranged the flowers on his head, touching the tendrils of his silver hair. In a non-Momo fashion, she scooped up his cheeks in her hands. “You look like a cute dumpling!”

Warmth flooded his cheeks. “You’re too close Momo,” he tried to say through his scrunched mouth. He took hold of her wrists, trying to pry her hands away from his face, and it was a situation stupidly similar to that night they held hands. “I like you.”

He just blurted it out like that, her wrists in his hands, her daffodil flower crown on his head, and her smile still on her face. It wasn’t a declaration based on impulse, it was a domino effect of all the little things, all the little feelings, and all the little encounters. One by one, they have filled up his entirety like how a small daffodil can fill up a meadow. At that very moment, he understood what Rangiku meant.

“I like you too, Shirou.” It was an empty echo borne out of a friendship reflex. She knew that he knew they didn’t hold the same weight as his, but it was enough for now.

He pulled her in for a hug in the middle of that yellow meadow, a witness to their growth and the last happy memory they would have together.

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

He wouldn’t say Momo avoided him for that semester, but her appearance suddenly became scarce. Up until the middle of the semester, she still went to their secret room and profusely apologized to the three Rs for denying the membership offer. She made it up to them, bringing bento boxes, buying new sets of tea and coffee. Hitsugaya noticed she didn’t mention their conversation and hug again, and he considered they were already past it. Then, she just stopped coming.

Irked and superbly irritated, he tried going to their side of the building. Almost conveniently, Aizen ran into him and asked what he wanted from his classes. Not wanting to stir up the pot, Hitsugaya made an excuse about getting lost and returned to the core building side. Something is fishy. If I cannot see her in the academy, there’s one place to go to.

He sneaked out one weekend to the compound to know how she was. To his surprise, the area was largely unkempt and most windows were closed. It was highly unusual because Baba will never slack out on her chores. He heard chronic coughing behind the door, a loud boom, and a string of things crashing one after another.

“Baba!” He found her lying on the floor, blood dripping from her mouth, her hands scratched with broken shards of glass.

Adrenaline coursed through his veins as his small figure tried to lift her up on his back. It was a miracle that he was able to reach the hospital just in time before she crashed. He wasn’t family, but the doctors needed consent for an immediate surgery. He gave the go-signal. He couldn’t wait for Momo.

She appeared at midnight, well past the time Baba had her surgery. Pale-faced and shivering from fear, she turned to Hitsugaya, willing him to tell her what happened, but he wasn’t looking at her.

A doctor appeared at his side, saving him from a lengthy conversation he didn’t have the energy to make.

“Your grandmother had chronic coughing in the past few weeks, it seemed, and she developed pneumonia. The infection scarred her lungs and caved them in, and that made her cough up blood. We had to take some portion of it out in surgery. She’s in the ICU and recovering, but you need to wait for a while because she is still susceptible to infections.”

Momo mouthed her thank you before dropping against the wall beside Hitsugaya.

“Where were you, Momo?”

“I was working with Dr. Aizen in some of his experiments. The workload was too much I had to sleep in school. I didn’t come home for two weeks. Only two weeks.”

“In those two weeks you left her alone, sick, and bedridden with no one to care for her.” Hitsugaya can’t stop the spite in his voice. “If I didn’t come to your house, you would not have found her alive.”

“I needed this. Baba understood me when I told her I’d be gone.”

“Baba always understands because she wants the best for you! She’ll never deny you that. Why are you so enamored with that professor that you can’t see through everyone else?”

“You’re overstepping a line here.”

“Why are you trying so hard to please him to the point that you’d risk Baba’s life for his work?”

“His work is my work too.”

“Exactly, Momo. You’re just a piece of his work. You’re a pawn that he liked to play around. He never compensated you nor credited you. I’ve read all of his articles and not one mentioned your name so don’t tell me that you’re busy working for your dreams when you’re wasting your time with him and killing off people you love.”

A resounding slap echoed in the hospital hallway. Tears were flowing from Momo’s eyes, and it pained him that he was the cause.

“Dr. Aizen is a respectable man, and I will not allow you to slander him further. You are just a peasant, an orphan we took from the street out of pity, and now you want to act like you have our best interests at heart when you entered the academy but in actuality, it was for your own selfish desire. You want to lecture me about hard work? I may always be his assistant, but you, with all your Soul perks and hierarchy, will never be on the same level as him. You’ll come far and achieve much more, but at the end of the day, you’ll always be a peasant. So get out of my sight and never come back until you become like him.”

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

The next day, the supervisors and senior faculty represented by Byakuya and Unohana entered Aizen’s class. Trailing behind them in close distance was Urahara Kisuke, a renowned ecologist in Karakura who went on a sabbatical leave ten years ago.

“What an A-team. What do you need, madame and sirs?” Aizen cheerfully asked.

“Aizen Sousuke and Hinamori Momo, please follow us to the academy tribunal. You are wanted for plagiarism, fraud, and embezzlement.”

NEXT CHAPTER | 7 OF 12 | JUDGMENT NEEDED, NOT JUDGMENT DESERVED

[renaerys]

What are your thoughts on the blues? The reds are my otp and I like the greens but I have to confess the blues don't do anything for me. My frustration with this ship stems from people making them "perfect ". They're always the first to get together, stop hating each other early, rarely have turmoil and if they do they get over it quickly. They're written as too cutesy imo. I feel like people think just because bubbles is the sweet one and boomer being her counterpart that means they would get together quickly. It's annoying because the blues can be complex if people bothered to attempt to flesh them out. Bubbles is still a ppg and boomer is still a rrb. Contrary to popular belief and writing they would have difficulties moving forward from enemies to friends then lovers. I really feel the reason they're the least popular of the 3 ships is because they're rarely fleshed out in fics and given obstacles to overcome. Even singular fics focusing on them leave much to be desired. I feel for blues fans because I know they're frustrated with the content for their ship and how it's written. I'm not into the ship and I'm frustrated along with them because Bubbles/Boomer have the potential to be a great ship if people took the time to actually flesh them out. It's not right that the reds get to be complex and so do the greens but the blues...just get to be cute and one dimensional. You and maybe 2 other authors are probably the only ones who actually give them a personality and character. Definitely not trying to bash authors but I do feel as though this a discussion that needs to be had. The blues deserve better and this is coming from a reds fan.

Thanks for this thoughtful ask! I’ve heard this concern before from others, and I also have issues with it generally. I can’t speak to other authors’ intentions and don’t pretend to know their preferences or interpretations, so please keep that in mind for what I am about to say here. I am speaking only for myself. 

Based on what I have seen in this fandom and conversations I’ve had with fellow fans, I think there are a few different explanations for the issue you raised, none of which is dispositive. 

1) Certain creators may not like Blues as much as other ships, but because Color Code is pretty much expected in most PPG/RRB fics and art, they throw the Blues in there anyway and end up de-prioritizing them. That’s not unexpected, but probably explains the lower effort put into them compared to other ships. It’s side-ship syndrome and you see it across fandoms. Unfortunate, but pretty ubiquitous. 

2) There are fandom headcanons regarding ship dynamics and character personalities that appear to be widely accepted, and among those is the lovey/saccharine Blues dynamic. That’s neither good nor bad, but it is pervasive. In concert with 1) above, you have a recipe for a low-effort side-ship that the author/creator isn’t super excited about, and it shows through the recycled tropes that barely reach beyond a skin-deep level of nuance. I suspect that the popularity of high school fics exacerbates this issue at least in part. High schoolers probably are not dealing with experiences such as getting older, questions of marriage/family, careers, debt/finances, and other hazards of adulting that are ripe for interesting dramatic tension and added layers of complexity in a relationship. Again, this is neither good nor bad, just an observation. 

3) Separate from 1) and 2), I get the impression that a not insignificant portion of the fandom actively updating fanfic these days is on the young side (teenagers/early 20s) and/or does not have a lot of personal experience with romantic relationships. None of that is bad! Please don’t mistake me, it’s awesome that there are young people creating and contributing, learning and having fun. I encourage and support them; I used to be one myself (and I still have so much to learn and improve on, as we all do). No one can improve without a safe space to practice and learn, and I feel very strongly about contributing to making that space safe and welcoming to creators of all skill levels. The downside of a younger or inexperienced pool of active writers is that it is probably more difficult for those writers to write nuanced, “realistic” relationship dynamics--if they have not lived those experiences themselves (or at least been around long enough to watch them happen to their peers), then how can they possibly be expected to write about them in a story in a believable and honest way? It’s a tall order, and an unfair standard to hold them to. I’m sure some can do it, and my hat’s off to them; they are certainly better writers than I am. But I suspect most cannot. I say that from a place of experience having been there myself. I look back at my fics from like 10 years ago and cringe fondly (what could I have possibly known about adult relationships without ever having been in one myself?). 

And that’s not to say teenagers can’t experience meaningful romantic relationships. They absolutely can and do! But when you’re living it in the moment, it becomes hard to take a step back and objectively analyze it as an experience. That really only comes with age and lived experience, which allow you to look back on those times without being emotionally compromised by your personal feelings. You can see the “good” and the “bad” much better in hindsight. And importantly, you have the emotional intelligence and maturity to write about it honestly. What might have seemed romantic at 16 might feel very different at 26 when you factor in experience, worldliness, and cultural/life education that really can only come with age. At least, that has been my experience. (I reiterate that I am only speaking for myself and my journey, not for any other authors.)

All this for my point 3) is to say that the frustrations you have expressed with Blues in some stories coming off as “too cutesy” or being “perfect” or “rarely hav[ing] turmoil” in their relationship are likely due to the fact that at least some of the writers of those stories probably don’t have the life experiences that would adequately prepare them to write a nuanced, complex, romantic relationship. Real life relationships that are “successful” are hard. They are work. Happiness takes so much work when happiness requires another person’s engagement and fulfillment as an equal member of your team. The honeymoon phase is real, but it doesn’t last, and I think that is where some stories miss the mark. I’m all for Blues (or any other ship) to be genuinely happy in love. Who doesn’t like a happy ending? But romantic success isn’t a destination, it’s a never-ending journey with ups and downs. Personally, I’m interested in reading about the ways a ship navigates those ups and downs, and how the characters decide that despite hardships, it’s worth weathering the struggle together because they are happier together than they would be apart. 

But that’s so hard to execute! Professional writers, filmmakers, and screenwriters think it’s hard to execute! I have tried to do it myself, and I look back on my recent fics and I’m like okay cool, but we can and should do better next time. It is not easy, and I don’t want to give you the impression that I think I’m amazing at it or that it’s not hard to pull off. That could not be further from the truth, and anyone who tries to tell you otherwise is lying to you. It’s definitely a discussion that should be had in any fandom no matter the shipping preferences. All I can say is that I encourage my fellow writers and creators to keep practicing. We can all do better.

[biussworld]

Slow Dancing in the Dark

Hello, sunbeam is back! Here’s that Tokoyami thing I was talking about some days ago.

I also would like to point out that I referred to Dark Shadow as “it” because I really can’t find anything that justified its gender, but if there is one please tell me in the replies! I also was debating whether to use “they” or “it” and “it” just seemed like the more appropriate one to use. I hope I don’t offend anyone ;;;;

This also might be a two-part fic, but I can’t promise it ;;;;

Edit: OMG okay I totally made a mistake. I forgot that this was supposed to be a Fem reader one shot :((( I try to be inclusive in all my posts but this one, for the sake of continuity and, well, realism it has to be a Fem reader ;((( I will explain more when I post the second part to this. I hope that I don't offend anyone. :(( This part, however, is actually gender-neutral and I've succeeded in making it stay that way.

Relationships: Tokoyami Fumikage x Fem!Reader

Genre: Angst

Warnings: Hints of emotional abuse from parents, forced marriage? Is that a warning?

Word Count: 1.5k

The soft glow of the moon shone upon your bodies as you stood on your balcony; his hands are on your waist, your arms crossed over the back of his neck, your foreheads are pressed together while he gently sways you to a tune he's humming. It feels like you're living in a blissful dream, and you honestly don't want to wake up from it.

You smile and close your eyes, sinking deeper into his arms while you rest your hand on his chest and your head on his shoulder. His arms tighten around your form, his beak rests on your shoulder. "Fumi?" your soft voice breaks you two's silence and he stops swaying and humming altogether, his head tilting sideways to look at you. You look up at him and pull away, then you whisper, "run away with me."

If he could be any stiller than he was, he is now. His eyes widen slightly, arms loosen their hold around you, and his mouth opens for him to speak but he cannot find the appropriate words for your command. He looks deep into your eyes and he sees you in your eyes that held all your wonders and your fears, that sparkled under the lights when you were happy, that are glossed over when you feel pain and suffer from it. He holds his gaze, and he finds that all he can ask you was,

"Why?"

His eyes never left yours and the moment he asked, he regretted looking as saw how your eyes shifted from hopeful to weary. He felt your hand weakly clutch at the front of his shirt.

"Because I need you."

Your words echoed in his mind as he let himself get lost in your eyes. The memories of you and him ran through his head like a scene from a movie and he normally would smile at them, if not for the current situation.

You two were standing on the very same balcony at the age of 18, just after graduating UA. Your parents, being rich and known Pro Heroes in Japan, decided to throw a house party for the entire graduated hero course of UA. Apparently, they forgot that you weren't a party person, seeing as they only take an interest in you and your achievements. They never got to know you on a personal level.

     "I brought some apple juice from your kitchen. And don't worry, Shoji's in there trying to push everyone away from your parents' glassware collection." Tokoyami says as he emerges from behind, a red cup half-full of apple juice in his hand. You take it, thanking him afterward. "So, what are your plans after this?" He asks, nudging you in the elbow.

You scoff at him and nudge him back, speaking, "Become a hero, of course." You take a swig of your apple juice before continuing, "My parents want me to sign with their agency and I'm honestly sick and tired of them. But I realized I can work with them for a while and show them I can take care of myself anyway, that they'll let me have my own."

You see him nod beside you, taking a sip of his own apple juice. There was silence for a minute, until he said, "Ever thought about... I don't know, getting married?" Tokoyami swore he felt Dark Shadow almost come out and punch him square in the jaw, but he held the other one in and made a mental note about talking to him later.

"Why would you ask me that?" You place your cup on the railing and turn to face him. "Also, please let it out. I want to talk to it, too." As soon as your words left your mouth, Dark Shadow peeked from behind him and swooped you in its arms. You let out a giggle and held onto its body.

Tokoyami could only let out a chuckle at the scene in front of him, and you took it as a sign that he's soft and enjoying the moment you three are sharing right now. Again, there was silence.

"I just haven't thought of getting married. I wanted to know if I was the only one." You and Dark Shadow stilled, you lowered your hands and timidly placed them on your stomach as you thought about his question.

Your body sank deeper into Dark Shadows arms. "I don't think I will." Curling up to Dark Shadow, he fondly looked at your face as you continued speaking, "all my life I've been told what to do or what not to do. I don't want to be restricted anymore."

He looks at you, and you look back at him. "I want to be free, Tokoyami."

     Tokoyami knew that you found peace in him, as you have told him that only once in your relationship. You told him that, and thanked him for he never asked you to be another person with him, and that he only ever wanted you to be who you are around him. He kept these in his mind and took pride in being the only person you could confide in. He loved you, and you felt the same for him, too.

But this time...

"I can't."

Those words shattered your silence and your heart. Your expression wavers as you look at him confused, hands desperately holding onto him. You so badly wanted to ask him why and like how he was earlier, your mind scrambled to find the right words to ask. As always, he read right through you and said, "You know why I can't..."

You remained silent, and he took it as a sign to continue pouring out the thoughts that had been lingering in his mind ever since he found out.

"You're getting married, and I wouldn't want to get in the way. Your parents... are very powerful, and they can and will do so much to hurt the both of us if we were so reckless..."

At this point, you were already silently crying, hot tears flowing down your cheeks and staining his shirt as you sobbed into it. His hand rests on the back of your head as he lets you cry it out. "I don't care, Fumi... I don't care about what they think."

"All my life they've done nothing but to sculpt me into a persona that they want the world to see me as... it's not me that they care about but my reputation. I shouldn't care about what they feel!" You say through gritted teeth as you look up at him with your tear-stained face. "I'm done conforming to their bullshit standards, Fumi! And I thought you would understand that, I thought out of all people in this world you would understand me but I..."

Your breath hitches and you hiccup, bursting into sobs onto his chest as you let him hold you. "I just... I want you..."

And he wants you, too but he can't tell you. The entirety of your relationship has been kept secret from everyone except for a few of your friends. The simple reason for keeping it on the low is the possible wreckage of everything you two had if you even had anything, to begin with.

Your parents have laid out everything for you, the groundwork for the rest of your life and your career. All you have to do is follow the path created for you. He's seen what happens if you even dare stray one step away from the path. You dare raise your voice at your parents and they'll have you locked up in your room until you "recollect yourself and apologize." Defying this big plan of them will put you and his love in tatters, even more so than him leaving you like this.

He knew you were destined to marry the Winged Hero, Hawks, as dictated by your parents. His quirk and yours will be the ultimate key to your family's success, as they put it. You had told him everything as soon as you found out, and he listened to you like he always does. You think back to that day and felt regret because you noticed the change with the way he talks and looks at you. He made you feel like an entirely different person, but you understood. He was your lover, and if you were in his position you would’ve had the same reaction, too. But you’re hurting, all over, and it’s all your fault anyway. Now all you can do is cry like a damn child.

So you do until your eyelids feel heavy. And soon enough you feel yourself grow weaker in his hold until you finally succumb to a shallow slumber.

"Dark Shadow." He calls, and it responds. Dark Shadow only looks at him and at you, then he understands. It then takes you in his arms, moving to your bed to gently place you under your covers. Its hand runs through your hair a few times, before nuzzling the top of your head with its beak.

At some point in the morning, you wake up, feeling a dull ache in your chest as you stare out longingly at the balcony. It hurts, you think, the day's new like the night before never happened. Like you two never happened.

These thoughts of him, the warmth of his presence will remain only in your memory.