#once he is able to recognize and make peace with his feelings for ed it’s endgame

[fancyingfinefabrics]

speaking of kisses, i’ve been thinking about stede’s journey of falling in love with ed & how his perspective during each kiss reflects who he is at his core being:

1. the first kiss (stede the unwitting beloved)

2. the moonlit kiss (stede the earnest dreamer)

3. the wall kiss (stede the ardent lover of beauty)

4. the beach kiss (stede the ride-or-die romantic)

[rosesvioletshardy]

take my shoes - ben hardy

i honestly can’t believe we’ve been blessed with the amount of ben content we’ve gotten this past week 

anyways i got the idea of this imagine once i saw the pictures of ed sheeran and his wife again where she wears his shoes and her holds hers again so i thought i might right something like it.

warnings: a little drinking, fluff

# of words: 1,437

----

it was finally the weekend and there was nothing better than staying home with the love of your life and food. ben was home from months of filming and then from doing several promos and y/n finally felt like she can have him all to herself all over again which was one of her favorite things. ben was happy over the fact that he gets to relax at home with someone he loves more than anything in the world until he has to go back again which won’t be for a while.

when ben had walked back into the apartment after coming back from the store, she had saw that he a smile that was plastered across his face. after dropping the bags onto the countertop, he came around to her and hugged her from behind

“what’s got you in big, happy mood?” she asked him as she giggled when he pressed  his face into her neck

“i got a very interesting phone call and it seems like our favorite American is here in london.” he told her while pressing a kiss to her neck

“Joe’s here? “

“yeah, he has some filming that he’s going to be doing soon and i know we already had plans for a lazy saturday but i accidently promised him that we would hang out with him, rami, lucy, and gwilym tonight before he starts pre production.” ben said with a sorry look in his eye

“oh, well we can reschedule for tomorrow then. you can go have fun. i know you’ve missed them all.” she told him not really in the mood for wanting to go out

“i know you’re upset about this, i don’t have to go. he’s going to be here for a few months and i don’t have anything for a while. i can just tell him i won’t be coming and we can reschedule for-” ben told her with a sincere look on his face wanting to make sure she was comfortable before she interrupted 

“no, no, no. we can go out, have fun. you’ve worked so hard you at least deserve it. please i really don’t mind coming along. plus it would be really nice to see them all again.” she told him wrapping her arms around his neck

“fine, but i’m still promising you that lazy day tomorrow and i’ll make sure no one ruins a day for just me and my girl.” he grinned pulling her in closer when all she could do was laugh as he started to kiss her neck multiple times.

---

a few hours have past since y/n and ben had changed their plans to hang out with the rest of the borhap cast and now she was in their room getting ready and fixing her makeup when ben walked him to find her sitting in front of the mirror. he took a moment to look at the person he gets to call his girlfriend and someone who loves him so much and supports him with everything. y/n felt like someone was staring at her before she looked up at the mirror and saw him leaning against the wall with his arms crossed and smiling. this caused her to blush and get up to turn around to show him what she was wearing. 

“wow. you seem to amaze me every single day.”

“are you sure it isn’t too much?” 

“no, no, no it looks good. you’re dressed so beautifully for a night out. nothing too fancy but still casual and comfortable. i love you.”

“i love you too”

“c’mon let’s go. they’re probably waiting for us. after you my lady.” he said mimicking a butler

“why thank you kind sir” she answered back in the most posh voice she could do

 as they both ended up laughing when they arrived, it wasn’t as crowded but it was crowded for a Saturday night. they walked in hand in hand and looked around before Lucy spotted the both of them and called them over to a booth the rest of them had gotten. walking over, there were hugs and greetings all around before drinks were ordered and conversations' happened

“I’ve missed you all so much. i missed being here in England.” joe told them

“well we’ve missed you too. it’s good to have you back.” y/n told him, taking a sip of her drink

“it feels weird having all of us be back together, but at the same time it really feels good. how is everyone?” gwilym asked 

the next few hours consisted of everyone laughing, talking, and drinking before y/n felt a slight pain in her feet. ben noticed the sudden change in her face when he looked at her and gave her an “are you okay?” look which she simply just nodded and tried to ignore the pain so she could enjoy time with her friends. as the night went on, everyone had felt like they have had too many drinks and thought it was the best to go home at that point. they all got up and said their goodbyes before they started to walk towards where they entered from. as soon as she started to walk, the pain started again, causing ben to stop in his tracks when she let go of his hand

“babe, are you sure you’re alright? because you have this look on your face that you only have when you’re in pain, and please don’t say you’re fine you’re clearly not.” ben asked becoming more worried

"ben i promise you, i am fine. i bought these new heels and i haven't had time to break them in and i thought i could wear them tonight” she said before she started to walk until her heel broke making her almost lose her balance and fall

“you okay?”

“yeah, my heel just broke and i just bought these too. almost got used to the pain too. let’s just go home, i don’t care if people me like this.” she told him before she began to walk again until ben stopped her by not moving while holding her hand making her confused 

"ben, what are you doing? come on."

"take my shoes." he told her making her even more confused and looking around making sure no one was looking at them

"what?"

"take. my. shoes. like you wear my shoes and i'll hold yours" he told her before he let go of her hand and going to sit down at the nearest chair and started to untie his shoes

"ben what are you doing? stop it, it's completely fine."

"no, it's not. you broke your heel and i know you don’t care what others think but i still want you to be comfortable when you walk

"i'm not going to win this conversation, am i?" she asked him before sitting down

"nope. now c'mon, let's take those death traps off and get you into something more comfortable." he said as he waited for her to take her shoes off to give her

“and they say chivalry is dead. i really do love so i can’t hate you” she smiled at him taking his shoes from him and putting them on

“there happy?” she finished standing up 

“very. now, we have a bed, tv, and a dog waiting for us.” he told her leaning down to give her a kiss on the lips before grabbing her shoes

the two of them walked out as y/n had a little difficulty since his shoes were a little big on them. they saw the rest of them waiting for them confused as to what took them a while before the saw the broken heels in ben’s hand and his sock cladded feet with y/n wearing his shoes. there was a few people who they’d recognized as paparazzi and ignored them as much as they could as the cast hung out a bit more before they went back home where they could relax in peace.

when they got home, ben set her shoes by the door as they headed up to their room to see frankie laying on their bed ready for them to come in and cuddle her. after they were finished getting ready for bed, he pulled her into his chest where he gave her a kiss near her lips thinking about how he was able to get someone to love him for himself. he wasn’t really paying attention to what they were watching and all his mind was going to her and how much he loved her and would anything to make sure she was safe and comfortable.

[onechicago-upsteadrhekker]

Either 90 or 84 would be perfect for Upstead from that 100 prompts list you reblogged! (:

Hi everyone! 

Here’s another prompt! @karihighman also requested #84 and if you’d like to read it, you can click on this. And like I promised, this one is much lighter than that one. So enjoy and let me know what you think! I also got a little carried away and the beginning is kind of random so sorry about that but I hope you like it anyway! #90 is “I brought food.”

*title is taken from a Sleeping at Last song entitled ‘Life’*

my heart reconciled all the darkness and light inside my chest

When Hailey was a little girl she’d never really thought about her future.

She was never one of those girls who played dress up or played with dolls or imagined their wedding day and pretended they were playing house. Maybe that was because she had only older brothers or maybe it was because of her father’s behavior towards her mom. 

The only thing she’d known for certain was that she wasn’t going to grow up to be her mother.

She’d known that from an early age. She recognized her mom’s loyalty to her dad; that her mom would never run or go to the police. That her dad abusing her mom was not okay and her mom shouldn’t stand for it or protect him or justify his behavior.

Hailey had promised herself that she would never make the same mistake.

The only things Hailey knew for sure was that she wouldn’t be with someone like her dad, ever. No matter how hard it was. She’d promised herself that she wouldn’t trust so blindly and get sucked into a man who didn’t care about her.

She would be brave and take care of herself first and foremost.

When Hailey got older; old enough to leave the situation that was her mom and dad she knew exactly how she was going to protect herself. And it had come from one Trudy Platt who worked Robbery-Homicide when she was 12 and a gun was shoved in her face.

Watching Trudy Platt be a cop was all she needed to see to make up her mind that that was what she wanted to do as soon as she was old enough. In that one night, she’d felt more at home and at peace in a police station than she ever had before. Even with her brothers who at that point had all pretty much left home.

Hailey had always been a driven person; she’d finished high school at the age of 17, already having a few college credits under her belt. She was accepted into University of Chicago, paid in full through scholarships and a lot of hard work on her part and completed a degree in Criminal Justice all at the age of 22. And then she went straight to the Academy and was well on her way to a successful police career.

That had been her plan. Anything after that, like a personal life or friends or guys, well, that had never been in her plans and it only happened because they had been there and she supposed it was nice as long as it didn’t interfere with her success.

There had been many bumps in the road and a lot of heartbreak she hadn’t been anticipating but she knew how the world worked so really, she shouldn’t have been surprised. But she’d picked herself back up again and went on with her life, continuing to build her life into successful one. One that her parents should have been proud of if she’d told them but she had decided to keep her past life in the past and she preferred it that way.

And then she landed a spot in Intelligence and then there was Jay Halstead.

A brooding pain in her ass at first but then she’d finally started to get him to open up and she realized what a caring and compassionate person he was under his tough exterior and as fate would have it, she fell in love with him.

It hadn’t been planned, just like everything else but Jay was different. He was special and for the first time she began imagining a future. One with a house and a husband and maybe even children.

Someone that loved her and protected her and took care of her and that someone just happened to be in the form of the best partner she’d ever had, both at work and in life.

So, if someone had told Hailey all those years ago when she was a scared little girl listening to her parents scream and throw things that one day she would have an incredibly successful career which she loved and a man who loved her more than life itself, she probably would have laughed.

Her head was killing her and all she wanted was some massive pain killers and her own bed in her own home but she knew that wasn’t going to happen. At least not right at this moment and it was all thanks to her freakishly stubborn partner.

And his dumb brother.

She heard Will slip into her hospital room, his shoes squeaking on the tile floor as he made his way over to her bed. His footfalls sounded like grenades going off and the squeaking wasn’t doing anything to help her still ringing ears.

She groaned, waving the arm that wasn’t currently draped over her eyes to try and convey to Will that she needed more meds ASAP without actually having to use her brain to make words.

“Head still killing you?” 

God, why was he talking so loud? She moved her arm a tiny bit to peek up at him through bleary eyes, the dimmed lights still harsh against her weak glare.

His face appeared above her, the red-hair hard to miss even if she was squinting but then he had the audacity to smirk at her and she tried to glare harder but her head freaking hurt.

“Yep, that’s what I thought. I’ll up your dose of pain medication. It’s hospital-grade you know, you wouldn’t have been able to have it if you’d went home.”

She wanted to roll her eyes or give him the finger or something but everything hurt and it wasn’t worth giving him the satisfaction. Honestly, he was almost as bad as Jay except he found more humor out of the situation whereas Jay just worried her to death.

She was starting to gather how much stuff like this affected him. This was the first time she’d been really hurt since joining Intelligence and she knew Jay could be over-protective but he acted like she was dying. She was grateful that he was forced to go home and get himself cleaned up. Up until an hour ago, he had still reeked of smoke and ash, still wearing his dirty clothes and vest because he hadn’t left her side.

She knew that was partly due to the fact she’d been desperate to escape the hospital and hole herself away in her house but seeing as how she had a major concussion along with other scrapes and bruises, she wasn’t going anywhere for at least the night no matter how much she insisted she was fine.

“Feeling any better?” Will’s voice interrupted her thoughts and now that he’d asked, she realized the pounding in her head had been lessened and she couldn’t see the blinding light behind her eyelids anymore.

She took an experimental blink, slowly removing her hand that she’d had clasped over her eyes. The light still seemed a bit harsh but she could tolerate it without pain shooting through her head.

Hailey glanced over to Will who actually had a sympathetic look on his face instead of the smirk he’d worn a few minutes ago, “Yes. Thank you.”

He smiled, “Anytime Hailey. Just don’t go getting blown up any more because I think my brother just might have a stroke,” Will’s eyes softened, “I think you’ve grown on him.”

She smiled fondly at that, “Well, he’s grown on me too and believe you me, I do not have any intentions on getting that close to a homemade bomb again.”

Will patted her arm lightly, making a move to leave the room, “I’ll hold you to it,” He winked, flashing a grin she’d seen Jay grin on rare occasions, “But seriously, you’ve grown on all of us. I’d hate to see anything happen to you.”

Hailey smiled back at him, “Thanks Will.” 

“Well, I’ll leave you in some peace and quiet before Jay shows back up, ready to answer your every beck and call.”

She sighed, letting her head roll so she was staring straight at the ceiling before closing her eyes to savor the silence that she was actually starting to hear. She wasn’t sure if it was because she was just getting used to the ringing in her ears or if it was actually fading.

Not that she’d ever show it, but today had been a little too close for comfort. She and Jay had answered a call over the zone. Dispatch had just said there were reports of shots fired, coming from inside a house a few blocks away so they’d gone over there to check things out. They had cleared the house, not finding anyone or anything suspicious so they’d gone back outside and Jay had walked over to speak to neighbor out walking his dog. That’s when Hailey noticed the shed in the back and decided to go have a quick look when everything blew up and she was thrown backwards.

The next few minutes had been hazy. All she could recall was Jay frantically radioing for back up; calling for an ambo and asking for dispatch to roll the bomb squad. And then he was saying her name frantically, telling her to stay awake, to open her eyes but all she could focus on was the pain bombarding her head and the terrible ringing in her ears. She couldn’t even tell if she was hurt anywhere else.

Once she’d gotten situated in the ED and felt like she could talk without throwing up, she’d asked if she could go home and that had really set Jay off. To be honest she hadn’t really payed attention to what he was saying because she really hadn’t felt good but she knew it was along the lines of ‘no way’.

And she knew how lucky she was to come away with only a concussion a few minor burns so she supposed his concern was justified but still. But whatever, she felt like 100 times better since then so she guessed it was a good thing she’d been forced to stay.

There was a soft knock on the door and Jay slipped in, his face full of relief when he saw her awake and somewhat coherent. He lifted up a bag of to-go from her favorite Chinese place, “I brought food.”

She smiled at him as he walked over to sit in the chair beside her bed, “Thanks.”

He sat the bag on the nightstand, his eyes never leaving her face, “How are you feeling? Are you okay?”

Hailey resisted from rolling her eyes as she didn’t want to worsen her headache, “I’m fine, Jay. You can stop worrying. You don’t need too. You don’t even need to be here.”

His eyebrows furrowed, “Of course I need to be here. Where else would I be? You’re my partner.”

Jay rubbed his hands against his jeans, “You’ve been there for me more times than I can already count and it’s time for me to be here for you. Make sure you’re okay. That’s my job.”

Hailey regarded him for minute. She had been through enough with him to know that he was more affected from what happened today and it wasn’t just because she’d gotten hurt.

“Jay, you know this wasn’t your fault, right?” He met his eyes and she could see his hesitation before he nodded. She wasn’t totally convinced but she wasn’t going to push the issue, at least not at the moment.

She caught his eyes with her gaze and she knew there was more than he wanted to let on but Hailey had always been very perceptive, especially where Jay was involved because he was her partner too and she had a job too. 

Besides, she cared about him. They’d already been through enough to know that there was a quiet affection between them.

“This is about the actual bomb, isn’t it?” The way his eyes flicked to hers in slight surprise told her all she needed to know, “Brought back memories?”

At his sharp nod, she sighed, “You know you can talk to me about it. Anything at all. I’m here to listen.”

He gave her a feeble smile, “Thanks, I really do appreciate it Hailey, it’s just seeing you there, hurt.” He took a breath and looked away, “It just reminded me of my times overseas and I wondered if I was about loose another friend to an explosive.”

“I’m okay Jay. I promise. I’m right here,” She wasn’t sure what else to say. She couldn’t imagine what he’d seen and gone through in Afghanistan but she wanted him to know that she was there for him, no matter what.

It took him a few seconds but he nodded, “I know.”

“And you’re still going to therapy, right?” She prompted even though she knew full well he was because she was monitoring his status by periodically checking in with him. 

He smiled at her then, a little shy, “Yeah, I am.” They held each others gazes for a second before he cleared his throat, shaking his head in slight exasperation, “What am I doing? Why are we talking about me when it’s you in a hospital bed?”

She laughed lightly. Yes, her head was still pounding and her whole body hurt but she’d wanted to make sure Jay was alright. 

Her eyes were soft, “I’m just watching your back, Jay. You’re my partner and,” She gave him a small smile, “You’re my friend.”

Jay was quiet for a moment before reaching a hand out to squeeze hers, “Right back at you and now it’s time for me to take care of you.” He pulled out some Lo Mein, winking at her as he handed the container to her, “So food. Couldn’t let my best partner eat the crappy cafeteria food.”

She wasn’t sure if he’d even realized what he’d said or if he even meant to say it and she wasn’t going to bring it up but her heart swelled at hearing that he thought she was his best partner because that’s how she felt too. They were good together and they had this pull, something between them that she’d never felt before and she knew he felt it too.

He sat for a long time, well into the night, even after she’d fallen asleep. They’d kept the discussion to a minimum because of her head but she couldn’t help but quietly laugh when Jay had regaled her with some stories of Intelligence before she’d joined while they ate.

The rest of the evening was spent in a comfortable silence as she listened to Jay breathe where he sat in the chair beside her bed going over reports and it was the first time that she truly felt like she’d have Jay Halstead in her life for a long time in some capacity.

And that thought made her very content.

Hailey was extremely content. She couldn’t begin to describe how happy and fulfilled she felt and she never wanted this moment to end.

She heard the hospital door open softly and Jay appeared wearing a bears hoodie and sweatpants, a small duffel bag thrown over his shoulder.

“I brought food,” His voice was soft as he held up the bag of Chinese in his hand. Dropping the duffel, he approached the bed, pressing a kiss to Hailey’s forehead as he put the to-go bag on the nightstand.

Hailey smiled at him lazily, the warm weight on her chest calming as she took in a deep breath. She hummed quietly, “Thank you.”

She nodded to the bag of food, “You know, I was just thinking about that time I got hurt. The first time I had to stay overnight in the hospital since joining Intelligence because of that bomb,” She suppressed a smile, “You brought me Chinese then too.” 

“A lot has changed between now and then and for once we aren’t in the hospital because of an injury,” He nodded to the baby curled up on Hailey’s bare chest, her left hand patting the newborn’s back giving Jay a good look at her wedding and engagement rings.

She grinned, planting a gentle kiss to the baby’s head, reaching out for Jay’s hand. He squeezed it, settling down on the edge of her bed as they both gazed at the sleeping baby.

“She’s so beautiful,” Jay reached out to stroke her tiny back, his thumb brushing the baby’s exposed neck. He’d never felt skin so soft. He looked at Hailey, love and awe and pride shining in his eyes, “Just like her mother.”

Jay stood up, Hailey’s gaze following him. He leaned over to kiss her on the lips, deep and passionate, drawing away when they ran out of breath.

Hailey’s opened her eyes, raising her brows as her lips ticked up into a pleasantly surprised smile, “What was that for?”

Jay gave her another quick kiss, pushing her hair lovingly behind her ear. He gazed into her eyes, his own lips ticking up into a happy grin, “Just showing my appreciation to my hot, bad ass wife who just gave birth to our daughter.”

Hailey rolled her eyes, smirking as she adjusted the blanket covering her and the infant, “If you keep talking like that we might just have another one of these sooner than expected.”

Jay looked a little concerned at that, eyeing the baby carefully, “Yeah, maybe I should figure out how to take care of this one first.”

Hailey sighed in exasperation, “Jay, we talked about this. You’re gonna be a great father,” She gave him a fond look, “You already are.”

He still didn’t look to convinced and Hailey was amazed at how he could go from being so confident and flirty to being unsure about himself but they’d had conversations about this leading up to the baby’s birth so she wasn’t too surprised. She knew she would just have to convince him otherwise because she knew he was going to be a great dad. She’d seen how he acted around kids, how good he was with them when they worked with children in their jobs.

She wouldn’t have had kids with him if she wasn’t sure. Or even fell in love with him. It was his qualities, the ones she fell in love with, that would make him such a great father. 

Jay took a breath, rubbing the back of his neck before dropping his arm, “Well, I’m going to do my absolute best, I promise you that,” He got serious again, looking into her eyes, “I’m gonna do everything in my power to keep both of you safe and happy for as long as I live and I’ll always be here for you and Ellie. I love you so much.”

Hailey cupped his cheek, stroking her thumb across his cheekbone, “I know. I love you too.” She reached up to give him another quick kiss before drawing back to maneuver the baby sprawled out on her chest.

“Hey,” She glanced at Jay before turning her attention back to the baby, “Could you go get that swaddle in the bag I packed for Ellie?”

Ellie started fussing as Hailey withdrew her from the warm cocoon of her mother’s chest and soft blankets to lay her on the brown swaddle Jay was laying out on the bed in front of her.

“I know, I know, sweet girl,” Hailey soothed as she quickly wrapped the baby up, placing her on her shoulder to calm her down some, patting her back gently, “Shhh, I’ve got you. Mama’s got you.”

When the baby calmed down, she peeked a glance at Jay who looked a little terrified and she had to smother a laugh. Of course, it was a baby that would be Jay Halstead’s biggest fear. A man who was a Chicago police officer and a war vet.

Hailey gave him a look and he swallowed, starting to look more confident as the baby quieted down. He took a breath and moved closer to the bed, “I can hold her while you eat if you want.”

Hailey suppressed a grin. That a boy.

“Yeah, that would be helpful,” She lifted the baby from her shoulder, one hand supporting her neck and the other her bottom and Jay’s hands very carefully replaced hers. 

Hailey leaned back, adjusting her own clothes to cover her chest a little more while she watched Jay with loving smile, her heart bursting with love at the two of them.

He settled the baby in the crook of his arm, cradling her close to his chest and over his heart. He was murmuring something to the newborn, bouncing some as he walked slowly towards the large window, looking down to the busy Chicago streets below.

Hailey watched as Jay’s shoulders slowly relaxed and she knew he was getting lost in the wonder of their daughter’s little face just as she had, forgetting all about his fears of being a father. Tears pricked her eyes as he bent his head to brush a kiss on top of her head.

She could watch them for forever and never get tired.

So, yeah. She’d never thought about a future till she met Jay Halstead but here she was. Sitting in a hospital bed, sore and exhausted from giving birth but so filled with joy, the best future she could ever imagine--never imagined--standing right in front of her.

The End!!

It got a little long and drawn out so I apologize for that. When I started on this prompt I had this vague idea of Hailey in the hospital and Jay bringing her some food and this what it turned into, so go figure... I had like two stories going on with an epic intro that I have no idea where it came from. I hope you enjoyed it regardless and I did want to say that I do have longer stories planned about life events such as the birth of a child and such for upstead and I will be uploading them on AO3 sometime in the future whenever I get said stories written. I just have to do certain stories first because I like revealing names in a special way... I know it sounds stupid but usually when I love a ship, I make up their kids names with like serious thought and I have had upstead kid names for quite a while now. And I also like to pretend all my stories are in the same universe if you will so I like things kind of being chronological if that makes since HOWEVER, I decided that Dancing in the Minefields is kind of an AU situation because I had a plan with upstead’s first kid and the way I’m writing Dancing in the Minefields wouldn’t be the way Jay finds out about said kid. Okay, I know I’m probably making no sense and no one probably cares that much but I can assure you I will explain how each story fits into my ‘Universe’ when I publish them even though no one probably really cares except me.

Anyway, sorry for that super long author’s note and the repetitiveness of it but I am finally feeling better and in the mood to write some upstead fics and hopefully finish the one-shots I’ve been working on, finish a couple of chapters on Dancing in the Minefields so I can publish a new chapter for you guys this Wednesday as well as keep working on the prompts I have received!

Thank you so much for reading this prompt and I would love to hear what you thought about it!!

[bbq-hawks-wings]

Ok, you know what? Enough moping. The ED is out and it echoed the clear message that we’ve all been talking about for years regarding Hawks’ connection to the Todoroki’s, but the connection I have yet to see ANY really concrete talk about is the old “Top 3″ paralleled to the new “Top 3″.

I’m talking about Midoriya, Deku, and Todoroki being transformed and renewed parallels to their respective predecessors in All Might, Endeavor, and Hawks. Shouto’s parallel with Hawks is almost never talked about in this very specific context, that I’ve been able to find.

Important note: the old 3 were all FAILURES. 

All Might made peace on the surface, but never penetrated the heart  (no pun intended) of the matter when it came to realizing true peace - it was always a power struggle in the end where might makes right.

Endeavor hasn’t grasped until recently what it means to be “The #1 Hero” and that a selfish perspective is fundamentally opposed to heroism in the first place and does not account for his weaknesses - leaving him vulnerable where he falls short and hamstringing his own improvement process.

Hawks as a naturally gifted prodigy has been so obsessed with freeing himself from the control and expectations of his groomers that he never embraced his individuality and principles to come into and fully realize his natural inclination and potential to help others in the special way only he can because of his suffering and experiences.

All Might has already fallen as a hero, Endeavor is close behind, and the buildup for Hawks’ fall is agonizing. None of these heroes made the cut in the end, and none of them have been or will be able to bring about a future that will render AFO’s influence impotent. It’s a battle of ideals, and the previous generation (and even the new one) hasn’t really realized that; but the new one has at least internalized it:

Midoriya is not a perfect hero by a long shot, but he’s a hero that inspires others to be their best. By knowing he isn’t anywhere near good enough to save everyone but determined to do what he can for those right in front of him, he’s a reflection of the average person’s “deku - I can’t do anything” and inspiring them to “dekiru - I can do something right here and now, however little it may be.” Every single person Midoriya has inspired experienced their inciting major character development as a result - Ochako, Bakugo, Todoroki, Aoyama, etc., and they’ve gone on to inspire others in kind. The buck doesn’t stop at Midoriya - the torch is no longer physically passing, but spiritually as well which is where it matters most.

Bakugo has recognized that being “better” does not mean being “stronger.” He no longer sees the others as competition or dead weight, but teammates. He recognizes that allowing others to make up for his weaknesses makes him stronger than he can be on his own. He pushes himself to his absolute best at every point that he can, but where he falls short, even if he complains along the way, he recognizes that even the #1 needs help once in a while and subliminally communicates that no person should be expected to stand on their own and that confidence should never be placed in one single person or group.

Todoroki has recognized that as awful as his abuse has been and that he has every right to feel hurt, betrayed, and angry at his abuser those traits do not have to define him or confine him. He has chosen to take those experiences he had no control over to pull what he can use to build himself and others up. He won’t be limited by the shortcomings of others and will be the best HE can be by continuously improving and holding steadfastly to his own principles. He recognizes the complex, morally ambiguous (or really, even just plain evil with “good results”), nature of his developmental environment, but has determined that he does not have to be in turn.

There’s a lot of “main protagonist” favoritism in the series that’s kind of just mandatory from a marketing standpoint; but the fact that it’s managed to focus on these secondary and background characters with as clear facets of this argument that “there is no perfect system to make lasting peace where everyone feels at ease - we just individually have to do what we can do when we can and pick up the pieces where we fall short” is incredible to me. We make jokes about HeroAca being “spot the main character on level 100,″ but again, that’s the point! Everyone is the main character of their own story. Nobody gets to be an NPC or crowd filler - not even “Can’t Ya See-kun.”

The moral ambiguity is there on PURPOSE. It’s not meant to be black and white, and there’s not supposed to be an easy answer for it all. Someone will always get the short end of the stick for whatever reason - from bad intentions, shirked responsibility, or even just bad luck - so it’s an individual choice what to do with the bad hand dealt out. It’s oversimplified with even an overly optimistic viewpoint, but as an adult looking around the world on fire (literally, even) that optimism is important because I can’t do the little good I can do for others’ sake if I feel like it won’t amount to anything. When I can squash down unnecessary negativity and elevate good where I can, it has a ripple effect. That’s the point. There will always be battles to be fought, but we can do more with every little bit that we can cumulatively instead of expecting and counting on some theoretical savior bigger than ourselves to do it for us, and when we can consistently count on others to do the right thing and help when we’re helpless - that does more to bring about a sense of security and unity than being disappointed in an institution and calling for its restructure when we inevitably fall through the cracks. We clearly have to build and maintain them the best we can, but just as stated before, we can’t wholly put our faith in it.

Or at least such is my interpretation.

I feel better. Ramble over.

[stellar-alley]

Everfalls

•Chapter 5•

This is based off of the artwork by oceanteeeth on Instagram! Also shout out to my Beta super.rose.cosplays!

Previous Chapter // Next Chapter

(Summary: Eddie is officially introduced to the rest of the Losers club. Richie has difficulty controlling his powers as the full moon approaches)

~

The rabbit calmed down after a little. Richie stayed the whole time, comforting him and held him until he made sure that the other was okay. Once both boys settled, the wolf noticed the time and decided it would be best if he headed home. Eddie stood in the foyer with a blanket wrapped over his shoulders, while Richie stood by the door.

"I'll see you tomorrow okay, spaghetti?" Richie leaned in and hugged Eddie again. The shorter boy enjoyed the moment while it lasted, his skin felt colder once Richie released him. He almost didn't notice the nickname that he had been called, but he ignored the urge to call him out on it. Instead, he nodded.

Richie turned the doorknob and took a step outside, he turned back to face Eddie. "Wanna come over to my place for dinner tomorrow night?" He offered, a tinge of nervousness tainted his voice but only because he'd literally just met this guy and was already inviting him to meet his parents. He knew that Maggie and Went would wanna meet Eddie, plus, it's not like he didn't want to spend more time with Eddie.

The bunny's eyes softened as his lips curled into a smile, "R-Really?"

"Yeah! You know, like a thank you for saving my ass today, plus my parents would love to meet you. They'd think you're just as cute as I do" He winked before he turned to head out. Eddie stayed at the door, he leaned against it and used it for support as his knees went weak at the way Richie called him cute. He stood there and watched the werewolf walk away, he even turned and waved at the bunny before he disappeared back into the forest. Eddie's heart swelled when he closed the door. He leaned against it and slid to the floor and thought.

I think...

for once

I'm gonna be just fine

~

Tuesday morning Eddie got to school with lots of time to spare before homeroom. He left his bag in his locker and sat outside under one of the trees on the school's front lawn. This spot also had a good view of the bleachers where he first saw Richie, when he was coughing up a lounge yesterday. The memory brought a smirk to Eddie's face as he focused on his notebook in his lap, working on some last-minute biology homework.

He'd gotten most of it done by the time his ears tingled from underneath his beanie. He glanced up and noticed a pair of converses standing in front of him. Eddie looked up, after nearly being blinded by the glaring morning sun, recognizing the person before him as none other than Richie Tozier.

"Is that my Eddie spaghetti?" Richie asks, Eddie can practically hear the smile in his voice. The sun that rose from behind Richie caused the werewolf to appear only as a silhouette. Eddie squinted his eyes, trying to adjust to the light when he noticed how the sun's light shone through Richie's curls in a manner that made him look like he had a halo, and he was an angel.

"Hell yeah it is" Eddie set his notebook down on the grass then proceeded to stand up, finally he was able to get a good look at the wolf before him.

Today Richie had on a loose Hawaiian shirt, the shirt was covered in dark blue and white flowers, underneath he wore a black shirt with the words 'ALL TIME LOW' painted on it. Of course, his white converses and his black ripped jeans. Oh, and he also wore a dark blue beanie with a little peace symbol on it.

Richie smiled down at him, watching Eddie's eyes wander around and examine him, "Cute cute cute" he smiled warmly.

Eddie's cheeks went pink, "me?" he suddenly felt self-conscious about his outfit. Which was a simple pair of dark blue jeans and a light blue polo shirt.

"Yes, of course you" Richie's voice goes soft. He noticed one of Eddie's soft curls had fallen out of place, so he took it upon himself to tuck it back into place. The action received a blush from Eddie that created butterflies inside Richie's stomach. "Come on Mr. Tomato let’s head to class." He poked fun at Eddie's blush, which only made it worse. Nonetheless, once Richie began to walk towards the school, Eddie snatched his stuff off the ground and walked with him.

The morning went fairly well, I was only late to my second-period class by 3 minutes since I got lost... But other than that it was good!

Eddie recapped his morning while he struggled to open his lock. "Need a hand?" A familiar female voice asked from beside him. He turned and smiled when he saw Alley leaning up against the locker beside his, which was hers after all.

"I... Should... Be..." The lock clicked open, "Good!" he said happily.

She let out a happy puff of air through her nose, "Nice" She went and began to open her own locker, "Oh, by the way the girls and I are gonna go get subway for lunch, wanna join?" She offers.

Eddie tried to remember what Subway is, the image of a sandwich store in town comes to his mind, "Uh- Thank you! But maybe another day, have fun though." He wished as she grabbed something out of her locker before closing it.

"Okay! No worries, you'll be okay without me right Eddie?" Alley leaned against her locker again and tilted her head.

"Oh! Yeah, I'll be fine. No need to worry." Eddie tried not to make his smile look forced, but it was kind of hard due to the fact that it was indeed forced. Not only was he worried about what would happen if he saw Richie, but he was also worried about what he'd do at lunch, since he kinda assumed he'd sit with Alley. Looks like that plan went out the window.

They said their goodbyes then Alley was on her way, which left Eddie alone in the hallway. He grabbed his lunch and closed his locker. With no clue where to go, Eddie closed his eyes and leaned his forehead against his locker.

A tap on his shoulder brought him back to reality. He turned to see who it was and was surprised when he found no one beside him.

"Hey Cutie" a sly voice called out from behind him. Eddie spun around, he smiled at the sight of Derry's Resident Werewolf who was leaning up against the lockers beside his.

"Richie! hey!" Eddie couldn't hide the excitement that filled his voice.

"Hey Ed's, how's it hanging?"

The rabbit's face went blank, "H-How's what hanging?" he asked in confusion.

The wolf's cheeks went red as he realized what he'd done, "Oh- shit sorry... It means like, what's up?" Richie rubbed the back of his neck. He thinks fast and saves himself, "So what'd you got planned for lunch?".

"I-I was gonna eat with Alley, my friend, but she went to subwhich with her friends so-"

"Wanna come eat with me?" Richie asked a little too eagerly.

Eddie took a moment to think about the decision as if he hadn't already made up his mind, "Yeah, sure!" He piped up.

Richie led Eddie through the school and into the cafeteria. He was soon waived down by his usual group of friends. The two walked up to the table, "Ladies and gentlemen, we have a very special guest with us today. May I present to you Eddie Kaspbrak" Richie's voice turned into one of a TV announcer, he also held his arms out and waved them around Eddie as if he were showing him off.

Eddie's stomach filled with butterflies as he shyly waved to the group before him which consisted of 4 guys and 1 girl. They all happily welcomed him with hellos and greetings.

"Eds is new, so make him feel at home, alright guys?" He eyed them, almost threatened.

"N-Nice to meet yo-you" The boy closest to Eddie smiled.

"That's Bill, he might have a problem with speaking but this guy can rewrite the bible in under an hour. A natural-born writer" Bill rolled his eyes. Richie points to the boy to Bill's left, who Eddie vaguely remembered from English class, "That's Stan the Man Uris, he might look like a teen but he's got an old soul. Still love him though, right Urine?” he teased.

“Yeah, fuck you Tozier. Welcome to the family Eddie” Stan smiled.

“Beside Staniel is Mike! He’s both brains and brawn, book smart but also the quarterback of the football team. Ain’t that right Mikey?” Richie smirked and got a chuckle out of Mike as he waved to Eddie, which Eddie returned.

Richie moved to the other side of the table, “Here we have Ben, Haystack, purest heart in all the lands,” Richie slipped into a southern accent.

Lastly was the girl. Richie took a step forward and placed his hands on the back of her shoulders, “and of course Ms Beverly Marsh, a queen inside and out, Derry’s resident Badass.” She smirked and struck a small pose at the compliment.

“Welcome to the Losers Club!” Richie finished with arms open wide as he gestured to the group. “Now come! We shall feast” Richie insisted as he took a seat beside Ben, he patted the chair beside him, gesturing for Eddie to claim it. The bunny happily accepted and took a seat beside Richie.

Richie was about to take a bite out of his sandwich but instead he stopped and slapped it down on the table it grabbed everyone’s attention. “I almost forgot! Staniel, congratulations on the circumcision!” Richie practically exclaimed. Stan sighed, closed his eyes and pinched the bridge of his nose, almost as if it pained him to hear. Richie burst out in laughter, everyone else giggled along with him. Even Eddie, though he didn’t know what a circumcision was, everyone else’s laughter made him laugh.

The Circumcision Joke was created the day Stan, Bill and Richie were talking about Stan’s bar mitzvah on their last day of grade 6. Richie had gotten it mixed up with a circumcision. Ever since he made it a point to constantly congratulate Stan on having been circumcised, even if he had gotten it when he was a baby. Yet Richie always found it hilarious. Everyone found it decently funny, especially when Richie just randomly brings it up. Stan does as well, but he’ll never admit it.

The lunch was spent with the group getting to know Eddie and vice versa. Everyone was warm and welcoming. From time to time he got a couple odd glances from Bill, but aside from that everything went smoothly.

The warning bell rang and students began to pack up and head for class.

“Rich, I missed you this morning for our ritual chain smoking” Beverly stood up with Richie.

“Oh yeah, sorry about that darling. Speaking of our illicit activities, wanna go chain smoke under the bleachers?” Richie asked with raised eyebrows and a devilish grin.

“You know I’m always down for a good chain smoke. Let’s go” Beverly smirked deviously at Richie.

Eddie turned to Richie with a concerned look in his eye, “What about english class?” he asked in an almost quiet tone.

“Ah don’t worry about it Eds. I’m already like a week ahead of the class anyways. Just tell Brock it’s that time of the month for me or something” Richie made a joke but Eddie wasn't sure about what. He didn’t even mean to ask about Richie, he asked for his own sake as that was the only class the two shared. Instead of complaining, Eddie stayed quiet and opted to give a simple wave as Richie and Beverly linked arms and left the cafeteria.

The Ancestor let out a tired sigh and began to pack up his things, his smile faded into more of a resting bitch face.

Stan was suddenly by Eddie’s side, “Don’t let him get to you. He doesn't mean to.” he explained in a calm manner, as if this was nothing new to him. “It’s just the way he is….” His voice drifted off, “Sometimes he says things and he doesn't realize how others are gonna interpret it”.

“What’s your point?” Eddie cocked an eyebrow.

“He cares for you. I can see it in his eyes. So don��t think he’s blowing you off to go smoke his little cancer stick with Bev, those two are like siblings, so any flirting is purely for fun. Anyways, I’ve gotta go” Stan said.

Stan had taken one step away from Eddie when he asked “wait! Stan, what’s a circumcision?” He felt weird asking, since he had a feeling it was something dirty.

Without missing a beat, Stan replied with, “Oh, it’s when they chop the tip of your dick off”, his eyes were hooded and a sly smirk was plastered on his lips. Eddie’s cheeks went red as they parted ways and he waved goodbye to Stan.

Eddie went to english and caught up with Alley, she filled him in on what had happened with her group of friends over lunch, which wasn't much. But Eddie appreciated the gesture.

The rest of the day was uneventful, Eddie spent most of the class time just listening to what his teachers had to say and adding to his ever growing list of work that needed to be done.

Once the final bell rang, Eddie was up from his chair and out to his locker. He recalled the offer Richie had made to go over to the Tozier’s for dinner, but Richie hadn’t mentioned anything about it since and he hasn't seen the fellow Ancestor since lunch. By the time Eddie finished packing his bag he had accepted the fact that Richie had probably forgotten or something and instead prepared himself for his walk home.

He was two steps away from the main doors of the school when a voice rang out through the halls “Eddie!”.

Eddie has never turned around faster in his life. Richie ran up to him, with Stan in tow. “Hey! Still game for dinner tonight?” he gave Eddie the smile that creates butterflies in his stomach.

“I-I wasn’t sure-” Eddie began to ramble but he was cut off.

“Aw, isn’t this sweet. The fairies are all together again. What? Gonna go to some big gay gang bang in the back?” A solo Henry Bowers waltzed through the hallways.

“Oh go blow your dad” Richie growls, literally. Eddie notices immediately, so does Stan. What the two didn’t see was how hard Richie was clenching his fists, how his nails, his claws, had practically begun to draw blood.

“Can we please just g-” Stan tried to end it before it began but to no avail.

“Then they wonder why this town is going to fucking hell-” Now it was Henry who as cut off. Richie charged him, literally. He rushed towards him, grabbed his shoulders and threw him against the lockers.

Just as fast as Richie was on Henry, Stan was on Richie. “We need to go now” He pulled Richie by the arm out of the hallway and into the front yard of the school. Quickly Stan found a quiet corner and shoved Richie, “What the hell was that. You need to control yourself Rich”, his voice was stern and his stare was like daggers.

Eddie had watched the whole thing and carefully followed behind them. “Get out of here Eddie. This is private” Stan commanded, it sent a shiver down the other’s spine.

“Leave him alone Stan, he knows” Richie huffed, his eyes as yellow as glow sticks. Stan took one glance at this and immediately grabbed a pair of sunglasses from his bag and shoved them on the werewolf’s face. (on top of his normal glasses)

“What would you do without me…” He mumbled to himself as he served the rest of Richie, his eyes were now covered but his claws were out. “And how does he know. You literally just met him yesterday, can you seriously not keep your mouth shut for more then-”

“I’m a hybrid too” Eddie chimed in.

“What?” Stan turned to look at Eddie.

The bunny turned to make sure there were no wandering eyes, or any eyes matter a fact. There weren’t, which was good. With that, Eddie turned his attention back to Stan. It only took him a blink of his eyes for them to revert to their naturel magical state of ice blue.

His jaw dropped, “Shit…” Stan mumbled under his breath.

Their moment was disrupted by an agonized groan. The human and the Ancestor turned towards the werewolf who was now leaned up against the school. He closed his eyes and began to slide down the wall, to the ground.

“Richie, are you okay?” Eddie snapped out of his trance and went to kneel down beside him.

“It-It hurts” the wolf whispered, clutching his abdomen. “Full moon… 16 days. F-First change” Richie rolled his neck, eyes still closed.

“R-Really? You haven’t had your first shift yet?” Eddie realized with a nod of Richie’s head. “This is only gonna get worse…” The rabbit mumbled under his breath.

“What?” Stan was now beside Eddie, he stared at him, confusion filled his voice.

“This full moon is gonna be his first full shift. These are the symptoms, and they’re only gonna get worse” Eddie explained. He reached a hand out and put it on Richie’s shoulder. The werewolf moved his hand to cover Eddie’s. In response, Eddie squeezed his hand reassuringly.

Eddie took a moment to think about how he could help. After he leaned down and wrapped his arms around Richie, hugging him. Richie sucked in a breath at the sudden motion, “You’re okay” Eddie whispered.

Stan watched as Richie’s eyes slowly opened, the pain suddenly washed out of his eyes. The human squinted as he observed.

Eddie soon let go, happy to see Richie looked a little more put together. “What did you do?” Stan’s asked, his voice was calm yet curious.

“Well… Some Ancestors have healing powers. Sometimes they come in handy” Eddie said with a wink. He was about to continue to explain his powers when he noticed Richie had begun to stand up. Eddie rushed to help him up, his knees still a little weak.

“Thanks” He breathed as he put a lot of his weight on Eddie.

A car honked, three heads turned to see their friend Bill in his red 2005 Toyota Corolla. He waved at them impatiently.

No one moved their gaze away from the car, “What’s he doing here?” Richie asked.

“How long has he been watching?” Eddie’s stomach dropped at the thought of his secret, their secret getting out.

“Sorry, ugh. I forgot Bill was gonna drive me home today. I-I’ll see you guys later” Stan seemed rushed and unsure. He didn’t know whether to stay with The Ancestors and help Richie or go to his ride and make sure Bill didn’t see anything. He chose the latter, as he knew that if he made Bill wait any longer, the suspicion would only grow.

The two friends waved at the other in the car as it drove away. Eddie took that moment to push one more burst of energy into Richie. “Better?” He asked quietly.

“Better” Richie confirmed, a smile now painted over his face. With the sudden burst of energy that now flooded the wolf’s viens, he bravely took Eddie’s hand in his and began to skip back to his car. Eddie hesitated only for a moment. He watched the way Richie smiled and skipped and twirled, as if he had no care in the world and none of that had just happened. He couldn’t hold it back, so he joined in with him.

Word Count: 3282

I cannot believe we're already on chapter 5! If you think this is good, then get ready cause it's only gonna get better from here! So take a seat, stick around for a while, and join me on this journey.

Anyways that's all for me guys, I'll see y'all next week with chapter 6!

Until then

So Long and Goodnight.

~

[Taglist]

@richietoaster @s-onora @that-weird-girl-blog @beproudtozier @ghostnebula @bellarosewrites @s-s-georgie @lermanslogan @iamcupcakefrosting @madidraw @gazebobullshit @thoughtfullyyoungduck

Let me know if you wanna be added to the tag list!

[medea10]

My Review of In/Spectre

How did I get into this anime? Let’s see what my check-list was back when I picked this up during the winter time. Does Crunchyroll have immediate rights to play it? Yes! Do I have one more slot open for weekly showings? Yes! Are you in the mood to hear Mamoru Miyano right now? Always! Let’s do it!

Kotoko Iwanaga is used to the abnormal and out of place situations. When she was 11 years old, she went missing for two weeks. During that time, demons asked her to become their “God of Wisdom”. However, Iwanaga lost her right eye and left leg as a result of this power. Fast-forward approximately 7 years later when she meets a college-aged male named Kuro Sakuragawa. She found a fascination with him, but kept her distance due to him being engaged to another woman named Saki.

But Kuro’s life changed when he and his girlfriend were on vacation and saw a kappa and the situation turned near-deadly. Due to an abnormality with Kuro, whenever it looks like he’s on the verge of death, he comes back to life. Thing is, his girlfriend Saki was absolutely set aback by this development and they wound up breaking up. With the news of Kuro and Saki splitting up, Iwanaga seizes this opportunity to spend more time with this young man as she asks for his assistance with dealing with the supernatural…

And to be her boyfriend!

BETWEEN THE SUB AND THE DUB: At the moment, Crunchyroll is the only one with authority to this anime and several weeks after the premier, they gave us an English dub. So far, so good! I’m getting a chance to hear a few of the newer voice actors and even some veterans like Cristina Vee. Now that some time has passed, all of the episodes are finally dubbed after a long hiatus due to the COVID-19 pandemic. As you already know from sentence one Kuro spoke, yes, that is Mamoru Miyano playing another main lead role. Luckily for me, he isn’t spazzy and he isn’t a holy asshole. Next to him, we have Akari Kitou who I’m hearing quite a bit of as of recent. I really enjoyed her performance as this insightful little lady. Here’s what you might recognize these folks from.

JAPANESE: *Iwanaga is played by Akari Kitou (known for Aru on Hitoribocchi, Nene on Toilet-Bound Hanako-kun, and Kaho on Blend S)

*Kuro is played by Mamoru Miyano (known for Cilan on Pokemon BW, Light on Death Note, Tamaki on Ouran HSHC, Koutaro on Zombieland Saga, Rin on Free!, Death the Kid on Soul Eater, and Tsukiyama on Tokyo Ghoul)

*Saki is played by Misato Fukuen (known for Georgia on Pokemon BW, Chibiusa on Sailor Moon: Crystal, Iggy on Jojo’s Bizarre Adventure Pt. 3, Eruka on Soul Eater, Yami on To Love Ru, and Yin on Darker Than Black)

ENGLISH CAST: *Iwanaga is played by Lizzie Freeman (known for Cardinal on SAO: Alicization and Trish on Jojo’s Bizarre Adventure: Pt. 5)

*Kuro is played by Brandon Winckler (known for Eugeo on SAO: Alicization and Dale on If It’s for My Daughter…)

*Saki is played by Lauren Landa (known for Kyouko on Madoka Magica, Michiru/Sailor Neptune on Sailor Moon [redub], Annie on Attack on Titan, Juno on Beastars, Xenovia on High School DxD, and Sakuya on SAO)

SHIPPING: Well, let’s see if I can make any sense out of this.

*Iwanaga x Kuro: I guess it was love at first sight for Iwanaga as she seemed to have developed a crush when she first met him at the hospital. And you could tell how disappointed she was when Kuro’s relationship with Saki was growing. Even when Kuro is still in the post-breakup mode, Iwanaga has the balls to ask him to enter a relationship with her in the span of a single episode. And even after the two-year time-skip…I guess they are in a relationship. At least according to Iwanaga they are! It’s just that Kuro is so damned uninterested it’s so hard to tell. I’m not sure if I’m fully on board with this ship. Mostly because of Kuro’s disinterested attitude whenever he’s around his “girlfriend”! Iwanaga is very controlling in this relationship and prone to jealousy when Saki re-enters the picture later in the Steel Lady Nanase arc.

*Kuro x Saki: Yes, Saki was Kuro’s former girlfriend. Actually, it was more than that! They were freakin’ engaged! But because Saki got freaked out by the fact that Kuro could regenerate his body if he gets severely injured, she ended the relationship. Yeah, I can totally see how that would be shocking for anyone to go through. Due to the mystery that Iwanaga and Saki were trying to solve, the romance talks kinda had to be put to the side. It seems as though near the end that Saki has put her feelings of Kuro in the past and seems to have moved on for the most part. Plus when Saki was engaged to Kuro, she felt inferior to ANOTHER past love of Kuro’s. And now we gotta talk about…

*Kuro x Rikka: They’re cousins! BLOOD COUSINS! But Kuro has a special place in his heart for his sickly cousin! I mean, his thoughts of being greeted by Rikka at home compared to his real girlfriend are freakin’ damning. Plus both of these people have the same anomolie courtesy of their fucked up family. I’m not sure after the whole Steel Lady Nanase mess if Kuro’s perception of Rikka has changed for the worse. I just know that there was definitely something between those two. Kuro brings all his girlfriends to meet Rikka only for Rikka to say something like, “she’s not your type”.

ENDING: For the majority of the series, Iwanaga and Kuro have found themselves in the midst of a mystery involving the death of a famous actress. Seems simple enough in an anime like this, an idol (Karin Nanase) dies suddenly by a steel beam to the face and comes back to haunt the world of the living as a ghost (later named Steel Lady Nanase). But it can’t be that simple! There’s gotta be reasons for Steel Lady Nanase’s existence and Iwanaga is gonna figure it out one way or another.

I mean, she knows the real truth. It’s just that someone is pulling the strings behind Steel Lady Nanase still causing havoc. She’s still running amok due to a fan website dedicated to the ghost. And that site has A LOT of traction with fans of all sorts. Add to this mind-fuck, Kuro’s “lovely” cousin Rikka is the administrator for the website. As I’ve mentioned before, she has that immortality power that her cousin possesses as well. And Rikka uses that power to keep things going with Steel Lady Nanase.

Iwanaga went through several scenarios to disprove Steel Lady Nanase’s existence. And all but one of those theories were poked by skeptics and even Rikka who was stalking the forums. It wasn’t until Iwanaga came up with the theory of Nanase meeting a woman who looks exactly like her and that her doppleganger was the one that died at the construction site. Somehow that was the theory millions of fans took as truth and this was how Iwanaga was able to take down Rikka and her fansite.

So everything is gonna go back to somewhat normal. Karin Nanase can rest in peace, the spirits around the area can rest easy without being tormented by a crazy bitch swinging a steel beam, Saki goes back to work as a police officer, Rikka is still lurking around, and we get a cute moment between Iwanaga and Kuro.

This anime started out strong, but once you realize that this Steel Lady Nanase arc was going to be covered in 10 episodes out of a 12 episode series, it kinda leaves this series a little underwhelming. The idea of having one character with the ability to communicate with spirits and another character with an anomolie in his body preventing him from dying seemed really interesting. Especially when you have someone like Iwanaga trying to solve mysteries and coming up with the best case scenario in every case! But that’s just it, we only got two cases in this 12 episode series. The manga still seems pretty new and so I’m hoping to see more development with Iwanaga and Kuro. It’s an okay series, it’s just that I give a hesitant recommendation with the warning that this will drag a bit when we’re stuck in Steel Lady Nanase hell for 10 episodes. In an anime season that was filled to the brim with mystery animes, I actually found myself a little more invested in Toilet-Bound Hanako-kun. But that’s just me! You guys make your own judgments on which mystery anime of 2020 wins your vote.

Final note: The OP is a banger and as for the ED, it’s always a treat whenever Mamoru Miyano is singing!

If you would like to watch In/Spectre, Crunchyroll has all 12 episodes available for streaming in both sub and dub.

[okay-sky]

merry christmas @ardentknight! i was your secret santa for @fmasecretsanta2020 and i hope this fic is as fun for you to read as it was for me to write  \(‘w’)/  you can also read this on ao3 here

 Roy was pinned down, limbs spread far apart by Pride’s shadow arms. His hands throbbed with the panicked beating of his heart, blood welling out of the vertical wounds Bradley had left on him that had barely missed any important tendons or delicate bones. His eyes darted around wildly, seeking any way he could escape from the transmutation circle inscribed into the stone floor below him.

“Hmm,” Bradley growled, wiping blood from his face. “I wonder what will be taken from you?” At his words, Pride activated the transmutation circle using the mangled body of the gold-toothed scientist, and Roy screamed in pain and terror as his body began to disappear before his very eyes. The last thing that Roy saw was the transmutation marks racing up his torso and consuming him whole.

The scene around Roy was suddenly different, as if he had merely blinked and opened his eyes at a new location. Endless white stretched in every direction, and an ominous presence behind him raised the hair on the back of his neck. Roy jerked around, staring in shock at the madly grinning white figure that stood before the enormous, ornate door. The creature didn’t speak, merely spread its arms wide as the door behind it opened, revealing an enormous purple eye, and a thousand writhing hands swarmed through the doors and towards Roy. Before he could even raise his hand to snap, or bend his legs to run, the reaching hands wrapped around him and pulled him bodily through the door and into darkness.

The hands suddenly released him, and a feeling similar to being dissolved by Pride’s activation of the transmutation circle raced over Roy’s body. He understood that he was being reconstructed somewhere, but could not see where for the darkness around him, nor did he have time to process that he was being reconstructed somewhere unknown before he smashed into the ground. He managed to save himself from a concussion only just, by rotating his shoulder beneath his head as he fell.

“Colonel?!” cried a panicked voice from nearby; it echoed wildly, giving a sense that the space Roy found himself in was an enormous underground cave or something: huge, empty, and woefully dark. Was he even further beneath Central now, in the lair of their enemy? Roy pushed himself up off the ground, cringing in pain. The fresh incisions in his hands wept blood freely as he strained to hold his weight on them, and every muscle in his body ached — from the fierce fighting, from being deconstructed and subsequently reconstructed, from falling from however high he had falling and crashing into the hard floor. 

The high, childish voice of Pride echoed from across the room then. “I’ve brought you the fifth one, Father.”

“Hmm,” remarked a voice so inhuman and swimming with pure malice Roy was overcome with nausea. Or was that from the pain? “We’ve got five ‘bodies,’ yes, but Alphonse Elric is not actually with us at the moment.”

Roy rubbed gingerly at the back of his head, groaning in pain at the motion tugged at the open wound in his hand and sent dull waves of pain radiating across his skull. 

“You okay, Colonel?!” the first voice exclaimed from directly beside Roy, and dimly he realized it was a voice he recognized, once he got past the weird echo the cavernous space was giving it.

“Fullmetal?” Roy groaned, clutching his temple. The pain in his head felt like it was clustered behind his brow now, beating in time with his frantic heart in his eye sockets. “Where are we?” he asked Edward, trying desperately to gain some sort of control over his situation.

“In their boss’s lair!” Edward said, confirming Roy’s suspicions that they were indeed deep in the underbelly of Central. That explained the cave-like qualities, then. “What happened to you?” Ed continued, turning Roy’s mind back to the horrifying trip from the chamber with Riza and Bradley to where he now kneeled. Funny, the whole journey had probably only taken a few seconds, but somehow the circle Pride had bound him to felt like it was years away.

“They took me to an empty white world with a massive gate—” Roy began.

“Gate?!” Edward interrupted. “What did it take?” Something snatched Roy’s ankle and jerked his leg out from under him, sending Roy careening over. “Are your legs still there? And your arms?!”

“What are you doing?! Are you with me, Fullmetal?!” Roy cried in protest as hands continued to push and jerk on his limbs. At his words, the wandering hands stilled. 

“... What are you talking about?” Edward asked.

“It’s pitch black, I can’t see anything,” Roy clarified, needlessly in his opinion. He turned his face towards the sound of Edward’s voice, hoping to catch a glimpse of his golden eyes or his glimmering automail or something catching the light. “Where are we? Can you see any lights?”

The silence that filled the cave was deafening. Fear swelled in Roy’s chest; why wasn’t Edward answering? Then the younger alchemist’s earlier words came back to him, and the ground seemed to tilt beneath him. What did it take...?

“I… can’t see…” Roy whispered, his world suddenly crashing down around him. No, there was no way. He would be able to tell if he was really blind, wouldn’t he? Maybe his eyes hadn’t adjusted to the dark. Maybe if he moved to a different spot, he would be able to get some light and finally be able to make out Edward’s silhouette enough to refute the suspicion that now gripped his heart like ice. He struggled to his feet, aching muscles protesting and hands shaking where they pushed against his knees — no time to worry about his hands, he had to move, he had to move — and hesitantly staggered across the floor. He only made it a few steps before the toe of his boot caught something and he tripped, barely catching himself on hands and knees to prevent his face from slamming again into the ground.

“N… No…” Ed murmured, his voice barely audible. “No, it can’t be…” Hands touched Roy and he startled away from their grasp. They latched more firmly onto his coat, and Roy’s own hands flew up to grip the wrists, prepared to throw the offender off of him. As his fingers wrapped around the trembling arms, one cold and unyielding, the other soft and muscled, Roy realized they must be Edward’s.

“Colonel, look at me,” Edward demanded, his hands tightening in Roy’s lapels. “Come on, I know you can, just look at me!”

“Ed—” a feminine voice began hesitantly from a short ways away, but was ignored as Ed’s voice began to rise hysterically.

“Your eyes are still there, I can see them,” Edward babbled to himself, one hand releasing Roy to cup his cheek and stroke his thumb across his lower lid, pulling it down slightly as if to check that Roy’s eye did in fact continue down past his waterline. “It didn’t take your eyes, they’re still here. You just need a second to adjust, maybe you hit your head, it’ll be fine—”

“Have you gone blind?” Pride’s horrid voice interjected. “Splendid! Of all the alchemists here, your abilities were the most troublesome. Now suffer anguish.”

“He’s not blind!” Edward spat, his voice directed away from Roy.

“The truth is cruel,” the poisonous voice of Father replied. “A pair of brothers who abandoned reason and tried to resurrect their departed mother, seeking her warmth once more—”

“Shut up!” Edward yelled; Father carried on, ignoring the protests of the alchemist.

“— one loses a leg to stand on and his only remaining family—”

“Stop it!”

“— the other the ability to feel the warmth he so desperately missed.”

“You don’t know a damn thing about us!”

“A woman who tried to take back her dead child—”

“Leave her out of this!”

“ — only to end up with a body that will never again nurture the seed of life.”

“Shut your goddamn mouth!”

“And… a man who had a grand vision to save his country loses his eyesight, forever unable to see what his beloved nation will become.”

“I’ll fucking kill you!” Edward snarled, his hands vanishing from where they had clenched in Roy’s coat and the echoing of his footsteps filling the air as he charged away towards Father.

There was a loud crash from the ceiling, and a good deal of shouting from several different voices, but Roy was numb to it all. He clutched at his face, desperately willing his vision to return if he could just somehow claw away the dark curtain that had fallen over the world. His mind was spinning, buzzing in a constant loop of ‘What did it take?’ and ‘loses his eyesight, forever unable to see.’ This couldn’t be happening. There was no— He hadn’t even been the one to activate the circle, and he hadn’t gained anything. Where was the equivalent exchange? This wasn’t equal. He had gained nothing and instead had lost everything. How was he supposed to fight now? His alchemy relied so heavily on his sight, as did any firearms, and he was far from a hand-to-hand expert. How was he going to protect himself, and those he cared about, in the battle that was surely about to come? Would someone sacrifice themself to protect him? Would he die here, defenseless and useless? And if he didn’t, if he survived today somehow, what then was he to do? There was no way Amestris would accept a blind Fuhrer. Would it even accept a blind colonel? What would he do now?

Roy’s panic was halted as Father’s putrid voice screeched out, “The fifth one is here!”

And now the fight would begin.

***

It wasn’t quite what one would call “peaceful” just yet. The adrenaline had left Roy’s body after the conclusion of the battle, and now he sat slumped on a crate in a makeshift tent set up for the innumerable wounded. The pain of his many injuries had finally flared up, and he felt almost overwhelmed by the cacophony of noises around him: the voices of many soldiers and volunteers calling instructions and requests across the compound, the anguished cries of the wounded as they were unearthed from the debris and carried to safety, the shifting and crashing of disturbed rubble… It was all almost too much. 

Heavy, uneven footsteps nearby caught his attention, and then the sound of someone settling down beside him.

“... Fullmetal?” Roy asked hesitantly. The sound of his visitor’s gait made him quite certain of their identity, but without being able to see his face and confirm it with his own eyes he felt uncertain.

“Hey, Colonel,” Edward greeted him softly. “You look like shit.”

“As much as I would like to say ‘likewise,’ I have no idea how you look,” Roy replied despondently. A quiet hiss sounded out as Edward seemed to cringe at his own faux pas. 

“Fuck, I’m sorry,” Edward rushed to apologize. “I didn’t mean—”

“It’s fine, Fullmetal,” Roy sighed. “The sooner we all get used to it and start cracking jokes about it, the sooner I can… get on with my life, I suppose.”

“... What do you mean?” Edward murmured. Roy inhaled slowly through his nose and then out loudly through his mouth, preparing himself to finally say out loud what had been on his mind ever since he had accepted that he was blind, down in Father’s lair.

“I’m blind,” Roy said bluntly. “My sight is gone, and quite permanently I expect. As something taken by the Gate, there will be no simple healing of it. It would require an exchange for which I have no equivalence, the way you and Alphonse did.”

“But—” Edward began, but Roy barrelled on. He needed to say this.

“I need to accept that this is likely permanent,” Roy continued. “There is no place in the military for a blind soldier; I’ll be forced to retire. At least it will be an honorable discharge, I hope, instead of the dishonorable one I could have expected had we failed today.”

Edward was silent, as if waiting for Roy to announce his “gotcha,” his plan for how he would continue to pursue the Fuhrership even despite this seemingly insurmountable hurdle. When none came, he growled out,

“I don’t accept that.”

“That’s too bad,” Roy drawled. He waited for Edward to respond again, but the younger man didn’t seem like he planned to.

“... Fullmetal?” Roy pushed. At his side, Edward drew in a shaky breath, and then knocked his right fist — in the flesh! Restored! — against Roy’s shoulder.

“How am I supposed to pay you back the money I owe you now, you bastard?” Edward muttered. A weary smile stole over Roy’s face unbidden. How indeed?

“It’s not like you can’t just pay it back to me now,” Roy teased. 

“Hell no,” Edward snapped. “I promised to pay you back when you were the Fuhrer, and you’re not seeing a cenz from me if you don’t make it.”

“I don’t know why I expected anything else from you,” Roy sighed. “How is Alphonse?” he continued, eager to change the subject now that he had confessed what he needed to say.

“He’s great!” was Edward’s immediate and over-enthusiastic response, followed by a much more timid, “Well, he’s gonna need to be hospitalized for a while. His muscles are pretty atrophied, and he can’t eat solid food yet or it’ll just come back up.”

“But he’s alive,” Roy breathed.

“But he’s alive,” Edward agreed. “And that’s what matters.”

“I’m surprised you aren’t with him right now,” Roy commented. “I had expected you to fawn over him like a mother hen.”

“He’s not some little baby who needs me to supervise him every second or anything,” Edward snarled defensively. “And, uh, they were hooking him up to some IVs and stuff. To get fluids and shit in him, y’know.”

“You’re still bad with needles, huh?” Roy chuckled, recalling years past when Edward had been hospitalized in Central, or when he first had to receive a physical after enlisting with the military. The teen’s comical fear of needles would have been fun for Roy to poke fun at, if he hadn’t made the connection that the fear likely arose from the traumatic surgery Edward had undergone to acquire his automail.

“Yeah,” Edward admitted under his breath. “So I left him to it for now and went to help out with all the other stuff going on around here.”

“Tell me what ‘other stuff’ you’ve been up to,” Roy pleaded, eager for a distraction from his own anxieties.

“Well, there’s been a lot of chaos around Central command,” Edward started. A light thump thump thump sounded as he presumably began kicking one foot against the crate they were both perched on, if the reverberations traveling through Roy’s own legs was any indication. “Half of the compound is destroyed, more or less, and there’s a lot of people trapped in the rubble. I’ve been tryin’ to help uncover them and get them to the medics, but it’s… a lot harder than I expected, without alchemy I mean.”

“Yes, I expect you aren’t used to doing things with your own two arms,” Roy joked.

“Hah, no kidding,” Edward laughed. “It’s weird as hell having two arms at all. That’s part of why I’m here instead of out there still helping, I guess. My left arm got some metal shit stuck in it during the fight, and it’s hurting pretty bad now if I’m being honest. My right arm is… I don’t wanna say it’s fucked up, not visually or anything so don’t picture it that way, okay, Mustang? But it’s pretty weak. I can’t really help carry anybody or whatever.”

“Just how weak is it?” Roy asked. “You mentioned Alphonse was rather severely atrophied, and I imagine your arm is likely in a similar state.”

“Here, feel,” Edward said, his left hand taking Roy’s own hand gently, mindful of the bandages that wrapped around and around his palm, and placing it on his right bicep. “Make a mental picture of it or something.”

If he hadn’t known it was Edward’s right arm, Roy likely would not have had much of anything to say about it. The skin was soft as his fingers slid across it, unblemished and smooth. The delicate bones of Edward’s wrist felt fragile, like the wings of a bird, tiny and elegant. His fingers were narrow and uncalloused, the fingernails long and untrimmed, antithetical to his left hand that Roy knew was broad and square and strong. Roy’s hand smoothed up Edward’s forearm, gliding towards his shoulder, noting the lack of muscle definition and fat. 

He hesitated when he reached the bony point of Edward’s shoulder, not wanting to overstep the boundaries of what was considered acceptable for their relationship — and what were they now? Likely no longer subordinate and commander, now that Edward had got what he had been seeking from the military. “Acquaintance” was too distant a word to describe a relationship that had lasted 5 years and ran as deep as theirs, but he could already imagine Edward’s objection to the word “friend;” it was likely an expletive-laden tirade filled with complaints and a liberal application of the word “bastard.” 

Edward answered that question in the way he did best, through action rather than words. His left hand again took Roy’s and gently brought it inwards towards the center of his chest. Under Roy’s fingertips he felt the dry linen of fresh bandages, the gnarled and strangely smooth expanse of the scar where automail had once bitten into flesh, and then the cold metal of a bolt fastened to Edward’s collarbone. Roy’s clever fingers toyed with the bolt for a moment, fascinated at the contrasting sensations of the warm, soft skin of Edward’s clavicle and the cold, sharp-edged bolt that was all that remained of the only right arm of Edward’s that Roy had ever seen with his own eyes.

“Sorry, Fullmetal,” Roy bit out hastily when he realized what he was doing, yanking his hand away from Edward’s collar. Edward’s dry chuckle shook the crate and Roy felt a small sense of hope for the first time in several of the longest hours of his life.

“Don’t worry about it, Colonel,” Edward replied. His foot resumed kicking the crate. “You know, you don’t have to call me Fullmetal anymore. I can’t do alchemy anymore, so it’s not like I can even be the Fullmetal Alchemist ever again.”

“In that case, you don’t need to call me Colonel any longer, either,” Roy sighed. The kicking ceased.

“Not this again,” Edward muttered before declaring at full volume, “You’re not gonna be forced to retire. We’re gonna find a way to fix this.”

“How do you suggest I do that?” Roy snapped. “You and your brother may have been lucky enough to recover what you lost to Truth, but the rest of us don’t have a backup gate they can abscond through. What’s gone is gone.” The beginnings of a sob caught in the back of his throat, and he clamped down on it tightly. In the endless darkness that had become his new reality, where he couldn’t read anyone else’s expressions, it was almost easy to forget how to wear his masks and hide his emotions. 

“You’re not listening to me,” Edward said, gripping Roy’s shoulder firmly. Grounding him. “You don’t have to do everything alone, ya stubborn bastard. I said we are gonna find a way to fix this.”

“‘We’?” Roy repeated skeptically. “Last I checked, you didn’t have alchemy to magically fix this for me either.” A sharp pain bloomed in Roy’s shin; presumably he had just been kicked for his sass.

“Quit bein’ a smartass,” Edward growled. “Someone interesting found me while I was out and followed me back here.”

“Wha—” Roy started, but Edward plowed onwards.

“Hey, Dr. Marcoh, I know you’re still out there; come in here.”

“Dr. Marcoh?!” Roy repeated, head swiveling towards the sound of approaching footsteps. 

“I overheard you talking,” the grizzled voice of the doctor said. “I have a philosopher’s stone here. Can you use this as the toll to regain your sight?”

Roy was momentarily speechless, conflicting emotions swirling in his mind. Yes, he knew the power of the stone, of course. It was incredibly likely that it possessed the power to regain his vision. But at what cost? He knew now what the sacrifice was, the toll that Truth would take in exchange. The stone Marcoh offered him contained untold number of souls. Why hadn’t Edward spoken up yet? The teen had been quite vocal about refusing to use the stone to regain he and his brother’s bodies. Why was he silent?

“Don’t hold back on my account,” Edward teased, somehow understanding Roy’s hesitation. 

“I… don’t understand,” Roy admitted. “The stone is made of human lives; you would really be okay with me using it for something as petty as my eyes?”

“Don’t undervalue yourself like that,” Edward spat. “If you use the stone, you don’t have to retire. You can stay in the military and finish your plan to fix this country from the inside. You’re a good man, Mustang, and your plan is worth it.”

“Why should I use the stone, when you and Alphonse wouldn’t?” Roy pressed. It made no sense to him that Edward was so easygoing about this whole situation.

“We made a promise to each other that we wouldn’t use a stone to restore ourselves,” Edward replied. “We would get our bodies back using our own power, and nobody would have to suffer for it. You never made a promise like that.”

“But still, the souls—”

“They’re already in the stone, aren’t they?” Edward interrupted. “Their lives were taken from them, and there’s nothing we can do to give them back. It’s the same as my old man and the souls inside of him: there’s no way to give them back what was taken from them, but at least don’t let their sacrifice be in vain. I think they would rather be used to heal than to hurt.”

Roy rubbed at the bridge of his nose with his thumb and forefinger, thinking it over. Edward certainly had a point; if the stone wasn’t used to heal his eyes, it could be used in another Ishval, if it fell into the wrong hands. Or Dr. Marcoh would use it to heal someone else, probably. 

“Why heal me?” Roy said, this time directed at the doctor.

“I will give this to you on one condition,” Marcoh declared. “We could not have won this battle without the cooperation of the Ishvalans. Colonel Mustang, I want you to revise the policies on Ishval. Lift the barricade on Ishval, and let the Ishvalans living in the slums return to their holy land. And… I want you to allow me to live there as a doctor.”

Kimblee’s words from many years ago echoed in Roy’s mind. ‘Do not look away from each new death. Look straight ahead and never forget.’ As he had ordered, Roy had never forgotten the blood on his hands, the many deaths responsible for his prestige. Atoning for what he had done, repaying them for what they had given him at their expense, seemed the least he could do. 

Roy held out his hands and felt Marcoh’s gnarled, calloused ones grip his own just as tightly. “I promise,” Roy said, feeling the press of the stone in his palm. “I will devote my full power to revising policy on Ishval.” Marcoh released him, and Roy clutched the stone tightly in his lap. I won’t let you down, he thought. He wondered if they could hear him.

“Major,” Roy called, recalling Major Armstrong bringing him to the tent; the large man’s heavy footsteps had not retreated since his arrival, so he assumed the man was still there. The rustle of fabric and the approach of those heavy footfalls proved him right. “Will you deliver a message for me? Tell all my subordinates, ‘I’m going to be busy again. Follow me.’”

“Yes, sir,” Armstrong intoned, and then the sounds of his steps faded, accompanied by the doctor’s. The quiet that followed was eventually broken by the soft thump thump thump of Edward’s boot on the crate.

“I don’t want to say I told you so,” Edward said; Roy could hear the grin in his voice.

“You just did,” Roy said. He felt Edward shrug beside him, the smooth skin of his shoulder brushing against Roy’s jacket. “You knew he was going to offer the stone to me, didn’t you.” It wasn’t a question.

“I had a feeling,” Edward admitted. “He asked me if I knew where you were, and I told him I was looking for you myself, and then he trailed after me like a lost puppy. Doesn’t take a genius to figure out he wanted to talk to you about something pretty important.”

“What will you do now?” Roy asked.

“I dunno,” Edward admitted. “I was so focused on getting to this point, that I hadn’t really thought beyond it. Al needs time to heal up and get his strength back, so that’ll take a while. After that though? Who knows. I’m just playing it by ear, I guess.”

“Had you thought at all about settling down?” Roy suggested, even as he resented the thought. As if Edward Elric could ever settle down and stop moving. “I’m sure Miss Rockbell would appreciate your company.”

“What, Winry?” Edward scoffed. “Yeah, after she beats my brains out so I can’t talk back, maybe. I don’t think we could stand each other for more than a few weeks at a time. We do need to head back to Resembool once Al is able to, though, I guess. Show her and Granny that we’re okay now.”

“Will you stay in Resembool?” Roy asked. 

“Nah, it’s too quiet there,” Edward laughed. “Every time I’ve had to stay there in the past few years while I got my automail fixed, I about died of boredom within a couple of days. I was thinking about traveling, maybe. Seeing the rest of the world. I’ve already gone all over Amestris, why not see what else is out there?”

“And after you’ve seen what else the world has to offer?”

“What is this, an interrogation?” Edward teased, elbowing Roy and then bumping their shoulders together. “I just told you, I haven’t thought that far ahead.”

“Well, if you ever find that you need something to keep your mind busy a little closer to home, there’s always a place for you on my team, still.”

“I’m not an alchemist anymore,” Edward reminded him.

“Yes, you’ve made that abundantly clear,” Roy huffed. “I don’t mean as an alchemist. We could use your help as a strategist, or with logistics, or the theoretical part of alchemy. You could design arrays, I could activate them. Whatever you felt like doing.”

“I don’t know,” Edward hedged.

“You’re like family to the team at this point,” Roy pointed out. “We wouldn’t turn you away if you wanted to rejoin us. Just an idea.”

“Hmm,” Edward replied noncommittally. The thump thump thump of his boot resumed, quieter this time, and then stopped.

“Fuck, I’m tired,” Edward swore under his breath. “Do you mind if I rest here for a bit? I’m no use to anybody out there right now.”

Roy could relate. “I don’t mind at all.”

“Thanks,” Edward sighed, and then a heavy weight plopped down on Roy’s shoulder. Roy’s face turned towards it instinctively, still unused to the concept that even if he turned to face something he wouldn’t be able to see it, and soft hair tickled his skin. Roy couldn’t help the small smile that tugged at the corners of his mouth.

“You’re welcome.”

[a-very-fond-farewell]

The forbidden crack! Untamed prompts: 16/?

FMA AU meets “The Wind Rises” AU : “I still remember every day”

[crazy idea #1: if you are familiar with FMA: Brotherhood (superior in every way) you probably are too young or too smart to remember the original 2003 FMA clusterfuck series but i’m neither young nor smart so here is my take on one of my favorite animated movies of all times “The Conqueror of Shamballa” BUT the story doesn’t start in 1923 Germany but somewhere around 1923 Japan. If you are familiar with this movie and the 2003 series you will know Ed Elric has moved from London to Munich and started living there frequently interacting with a family of rocket scientists (sounds crazy if you are only knowledgeable with FMA: B, but… trust me). So i thought, “what if our protagonist (in this case WWX) travels from China to Japan to work on some airplanes instead?”]

[crazy idea #2: “The Wind Rises” from Ghibli is set in that historical period right? so what if we make transmigrated WWX work his engineering magic on some aircrafts before any conflict can actually take place? precisely between the end of the Taisho period (1912-1926) and the beginning of the Showa period (1926-1989), when the desire for innovation and the new technological advancements could be implemented while at peace.]

[obviously, this is just a prompt, and I don’t feel particularly comfortable with creating fantasy storylines so intertwined with actual historical events, especially if these events caused the suffering of many and belong to a culture that is not mine to describe with the potential risk of offending its values and legacy. also, fandom should be fun and if you love angst maybe this is not the prompt for you. on the other hand I thought of how much i love movies like “Porco Rosso”, set somewhat really fucking close to where I live while describing a fun and lighthearted narrative even if it’s dealing with historical and political events that are still fresh and painful in our collective memory nowadays. Maybe it is possible to write something easy and fun while, at the same time, setting it in a time of great difficulties without hurting anyone. Maybe I’m not the person for that (after all, this is just a prompt), but if you want to explore a similar plot you are encouraged to tag me bc I would really like to know your take on the matter. and if I happen to offend anyone I will properly apologize and take responsibility.]

[the title is from L’Arc-en-Ciel’s song “Lost Heaven”, which still makes me cry to this day]

*

When Wei WuXian wakes up after the core transplant surgery, the first thing he realizes is that he should be awake. Wen Qing insisted on the fact that he had to keep himself awake and conscious for the entirety of the procedure, otherwise he would have suffered from extreme backlash and so would have Jiang Cheng. But here he is, waking up from slumber after who know how many days. In front of a figure in white he doesn’t recognize. Everything is blurry in his periphery, as if he’s inhabiting two bodies at the same time. His every move heavy and his speech sluggish.

The person in white turns the moment Wei WuXian realizes he’s standing in the middle of nowhere, in the space between realities.

“Where am I?”, he asks, trying to make out the features of the person in front of him, their long white hair, the silver lining of their robes.

“You’re here to pay a price.”, the other answers, their voice a mere whisper. Barely louder than the crisp little noises the pins and jewelry adorning their hair and neck are making as the person approaches him slowly.

“A price for what?”

“Before losing consciousness, you wished for your brother to be saved no matter what.”

“Is… is Jiang Cheng safe?”

“He’s dying because you fell asleep.”, the other announces, sending shivers down Wei WuXian’s spine, dread sitting in the middle of his chest, “You cannot wake up, the damage is done. But if you enter this door you will be able to save him. Your body in this world will die, the core will not share two owners at once and your brother will be the only one able to use it from now on.”

Wei WuXian doesn’t have time to feel pain, determination painting him in vibrant colors in that white realm of silence and void. He turns as the person in white gestures him to do so and he finds a door so big it could rival with one of the gates of Koi Tower. Engraved on its surface are myriads of characters reminding him of something ancient and forbidden. Something so dark and dangerous not even cultivators as knowledgeable as Lan QiRen would be able to understand, let alone encourage learning about.

“What will i find on the other side?”, he wonders, watching as the gates slowly open in front of him, a warm wind spiraling upwards and messing his hair.

A kiss from the underworld.

Is this the day I die, he doesn’t ask.

“Another world.”, the woman in white and silver answers honestly.

Wei WuXian doesn’t have time to recognize her that he is dragged inside by a thousands of spirits with eyes for mouths and teeth for hands.

*

Mere months have passed since he woke up in a body similar to his original one, but completely different from his own at the same time. He’s still seventeen, but cannot rely on cultivation anymore. The brand scar he received in the cave of the Tortoise of Slaughter is nowhere to be seen. His mother and father welcomed him back in their arms, crying over his bedridden body thanking the heavens for saving their only son from typhoid fever. He knew deep down those were not his true parents, that Cange Sanren had a different name on top of that and that their actual son’s soul was probably the sacrificial lamb paid on the altar of Wei WuXian’s greed to save his only brother. He knew this since day one, yet he was too tired to say anything at the time. He woke up in a small village in the Hubei Province under the Republic of China, established twelve years prior. A reality almost identical to his own, but stripped of any power of the cultivation world.

However, now things have changed and his parents have died a second time, the fever and starvation taking them in their sleep one at a time. But not before his mother could send a desperate letter to an old acquaintance of hers asking them to take their son “Wei Ying” out of the country and save him from harm. After accepting her proposition, the Chinese diplomat Jiang Fenmiang has invited Wei Ying to live with him and their family in Tokyo, where he’s working in order to strengthen and acquiesce the relations between the two countries after a period of tension and grievances.

As he travels on what he understands to be called a “train”, Wei WuXian takes notes over the many technological advancements this new era has brought to humanity. Such as the ferry he has taken to travel overseas and now the locomotive taking him to Tokyo. The pain of losing his parents for the second time is still fresh, as is the memory of the past few months living alone on the streets chased by rabid dogs. His body is still weak after surviving the fever and his lungs and digestive system are forever compromised, but he wants to meet Jiang Chen and YanLi a second time in this new world. Feeling guilty for leaving them in a world ruled by the Qishan Wen clan, the only thing he can do is to atone in this new life and protect them in this reality. He takes a brief moment to himself as he looks up from his notes and sees a man approaching from the first class carriage of the train.

Initially Wei WuXian doesn’t regard the stranger with anything but a polite nod, some of his notes flying away from his journal as he adjusts himself on the platform at the end of his car. He sprints up to try to catch them... before the stranger could grab them for him and give them back.

It’s then that Wei WuXian recognizes the man, an older version of Lan Zhan from the one he remembers, dressed in modern clothing and shorter hair. He’s just another double, a copy of the original he used to know. Just like his mother and father, just like the Jiang family he’s going to meet soon. No recognition comes from the other-Lan Zhan, yet Wei WuXian lets himself stare for longer than necessary as he thanks the man.

A single tear rolls down his cheek as an earthquake shakes the train and destroys everything around them in that day of September 1923.

[details down below]

1923:

(WWX is 17)

the train stops and all the passengers survive, but they are scared and don’t know how to reach Tokyo safely by foot. Some officers guide them to the nearest road and help them walk for a while before they have to leave for the capital in an attempt to contain the flames of the many fires caused by the earthquake.

Lan Zhan’s double has the same name and features, but is now twenty-five and was supposed to arrive in Tokyo to meet with his brother, Lan Huan’s double. He’s a little more cheerful than what WWX remembers and he also decides to stick with the younger man all the way to Tokyo. After glancing at WWX’s notes earlier, in fact, double!LanZhan recognizes him as someone from his same country and reasons they should feel safer traveling together for a little while more.

given that trying to explain his situation to double!LanZhan would be useless, WWX simply agrees and shoves down any temptation to tell him all about Gusu and the cave and how much he wishes he could go back to his original world. They walk all the way to Tokyo talking quietly: they are surrounded by strangers, WWX doesn’t know much Japanese to begin with and he doesn’t want to be recognized as a foreigner.

uncle Jiang, along with some clothes to travel more comfortably, has sent him enough money to travel and direction to reach his home. The only thing WWX hopes is that nobody was injured in the earthquake and that no more waves can reach them before he can join them. What an unfortunate time to arrive. Aunt Yu would probably hate him in this reality too just because of that.

but as he trails behind double!LanZhan and enters Tokyo, WWX feels as if hell has found its way into the world, flames everywhere and nowhere to go. In the midst of chaos, however, double!LanZhan tries to keep him from fainting or shaking, talking about all the things he and his brother wish to work on as architects working for the government. Yet, WWX senses how worried he is for his twin brother and pities him as he tries to calm down, marveling at how much this version of Lan Zhan can talk. They walk towards the Jiang household as double!LanZhan chats about the university he’s supposed to work for the following month, wondering if it’s still intact after the catastrophe.

they reach the elegant house without any more troubles, relief spreading through their hearts as they notice it has endured little to no damage. Uncle Jiang scurries over them and immediately recognizes WWX bc of how much he resembles his mother and the man dotes on him from then on. He thanks double!LanZhan profusely, ignoring the resentful glances coming from his wife and the curious ones from his daughter. A kid roughly the same age as WWX approaches and takes the other’s only suitcase: a scowl on his face and hurry in his steps, telling WWX to keep up because “the world is crashing down if he hadn’t noticed”.

WWX doesn’t have time to properly thank double!LanZhan that he is urged inside by his new family.

1927:

(WWX is 21)

given the connections the Jiang family has in both countries, WWX and his step siblings are able to enjoy benefits others may only dream of, but the government is wary of foreigners and they need to act as good guests. This angers and stresses Jiang Cheng, his temper even worse than what WWX remembers, and he is even more rebellious than his new stepbrother. It’s WWX who needs to tone down the other’s snark at times, reminding him they cannot do as they please and that, even if others are jealous of their grades in university and overall position, they are still living in difficult times.

WWX knows this Jiang Cheng is a double ant that everything feels like a dream and nothing matters anymore, but if he pretends hard energy maybe he can stop feeling guilty for leaving his dear ones behind. But acknowledging this Jiang Cheng as the real one feels wrong and sometimes WWX distances himself from him, keeping his secrets for himself.

however, double!JiangCheng has seen his brother scream in his dreams, even waking him up in the middle of the night just to shake him from his horrible nightmares. Sometimes Wei Ying watches him in his sleep, when he hasn’t yet realized double!JiangCheng is awake, as checks for his breath. Other times he pressed a hand to his abdomen, as if checking for scars or injuries. He doesn’t know what it means, but he is willing to wait for the other to come around and they’ll him himself.

their sister YanLi has figured a way to be useful in a country wary of foreigners by studying to become a doctor and save lives. Their father is currently struggling at work because of the increasing tensions between the two countries and their mother keeps to herself in spite of everything.

WWX’s health deteriorates after he starts working, their supervisor suggesting him and his brother to keep a low profile just not to attract any unwanted attention on their family. Their work as engineers can convince the higher-ups to keep them close in case war were to strike again. But Jiang Cheng feels bad for working for a country constantly threatening his parent’s home country over mining rights and land ownership. He may love working on new aircrafts and test his limits, but he’s against using his energy and drive for appease someone else’s greed.

WWX, for the first time in his life, feels second to his brother, admiring his ability to distinguish from right and wrong while he himself cannot even tell dreams and reality apart. With a weakened body and a mind filled with memories of a world that doesn’t even exists, WWX convinces himself he’s in hell and this life is the punishment for being too greedy himself.

1929:

(WWX is 23, double!LWJ is 30)

tension is too strong for them to live in Tokyo, with Uncle Jiang forced to work for the government and scramble for solutions in order to keep his family safe in a secluded location in the mountains, in a hotel in the middle of nowhere. There, the elites enjoys the last days of peaceful times they will not see again for years to come.

WWX feels drained, dreaming of people he will either never see again or see every single day in the faces of strangers. Jiang Cheng convinces him to talk, even if only to ease his pain, but WWX cannot bring himself to reveal the whole truth. The only thing he feels like to share is that he has visions of another world and that maybe reincarnation is not as far fetched as it seems.

Jiang Cheng doesn’t really believe him, but he supports him and together with YanLi they try to make Wei Ying relax during their vacation on the mountains.

there, out of nowhere, WWX meets double!LanZhan and his brother: they meet on top of a hill as the wind rises and some of the two brothers’ musical scores fly away. WWX and his stepbrother catch them and bring them back as YanLi approaches the two musicians.

this time, WWX notice immediately something is wrong. Double!LanZhan is far less cheerful than what he remembers from their first encounter, while his brother seems to have lost his vision, music being his only comfort. The group exchanges pleasantries with the twins on top of the hill, until rain forces them all to seek refuge under some trees. WWX watches double!LanZhan closely and realizes these years apart must have been tough on him. He asks if double!LanHuan has lost his sight after the earthquake and the only thing double!LanZhan is able to do is nod, his eyes filled with tears.

Would it be so bad to befriend this other-LanZhan? Is it right for WWX to start a new life in hell with someone so compassionate and kind? Maybe that would be okay in the end, maybe they can be good friends and survive this world that is wary of them simply because of the greed of human kind. Then why does it feel wrong to let himself be loved by these people? Why does it feel like he’s betraying the ones he has left behind?

during their vacation, the two families get closer and they enjoy each other’s company. They talk in Japanese to not be stared by the other patrons and WWX wonders what happened in his world. If the Wens have crumbled down. If their name is synonymous with hatred and greed. If this is how any refugee would feel, isolated from the rest of the country while desperately trying to hold onto any familiar face and memory at hand.

Jiang Cheng doesn’t like to talk in another language and fear others might look down on him and seldom attracts attention by causing mayhem. But YanLi and even double!LanHuan help him come down from his stubborn antics and take him to long walks to calm down. This way, WWX and double!LanZhan are frequently left alone, because Wei Ying cannot walk for too long without feeling exhausted and so the other keeps him company.

since double!LanZhan is so under the weather and quiet, WWX takes it upon himself to entertain him and he spends their days chatting about the things he misses from home, what he would like to do if he were to live somewhere else, they airplanes he would like to make. He doesn’t talk about how much me misses flying on a sword, or how the wind fills under his clothes up in the air, or how much he would have loved to hold onto Lan Zhan among the stars at night.

WWX cries in front of double!LanZhan without noticing one day, missing the days at the Cloud Recesses when they were classmates and he used to pester the other boy. And only now, only now he understands what it was, what he wanted to convey with his antics. How much he wanted the other to notice him and pay attention to him. But the one rubbing a comforting hand up and down his spine now is not his Lan Zhan. Even if he’s just as kind and compassionate, just as quiet and brilliant, just as hurt and lonely.

they share a kiss under the trees of a meadow one afternoon and WWX feels like he’s either betraying the real Lan Zhan or this gentle young man who’s never done anything bad in his entire life. And he doesn’t know why double!LanZhan is crying as well as they kiss, but he’s too afraid to ask.

the following day Uncle Jiang calls the rest of his family back home and the Jiang siblings say their goodbyes to the twins hiding alone with their uncle on the mountain. Promising to meet each other again soon, even if WWX knows that’s most likely nothing but a well intentioned lie given the hardships they’re bound to face.

1930:

Lan Zhan:

(WWX is 24, double!LWJ is 31)

after meeting with the Jiang family, the twins try to retrieve their life as usual the moment they return in Tokyo for the winter. Their uncle notices double!LanZhan’s distress over departing from the young men he had met there, but his inquiry is fruitless since his nephew refuses to speak. The old man has noticed some changes in the younger twin over the course of a couple of years or so: his frequent migraines and tiredness, his laborious efforts to speak as if feverish and confused, his nights interrupted by nightmares more often than not.

even his brother has noticed the difference despite losing his vision in the fire at the imperial university seven years prior. His cheerful spirit is gone, his steps alternate different rhythms at times, and even his accent often doesn’t sound familiar to him. In his younger brother’s words “it’s almost as if two of me are residing in a single body”. But Lan Huan doesn’t know what to make of it, wishing he could look his brother in the eyes and see the truth for himself.

double!LanZhan, on the other hand, feels split in half ever since he has kissed Wei Ying. He remembers that day because his body has moved on its own, half of his mind lost in Wei Ying’s grey eyes while the other half (his own half) was trying to understand why the sudden urge to hold the boy tighter in his arms. He felt like someone had possessed him for those brief, stolen moments in time before leaving his body altogether the second Wei Ying has run away from him in the meadow.

unable to find an answer, feverish and tired with a migraine splitting his brain in half, double!LanZhan wanders around Tokyo trying to remember where the Jiang residence was. His feet walking him towards Wei Ying and Jiang Cheng’s room in the evening one day. Wei Ying is alone, sitting down by a table covered in drawings. Mesmerized, double!LanZhan watches from the window as Wei Ying traces the lines of faces and places, over an over again, as if he doesn’t want to forget what his imagination has shown him that night.

seeing what is depicted on the table, double!LanZhan’s migraine worsens and he collapses in the back garden, snow piling up on him. Wei Ying immediately notices and brings him inside, covering him in quilts to keep him warm. But Wei Ying is the warmest of all, his embrace like a balsam over double!LanZhan’s pulsing head as the younger tries to keep him warm by rubbing his arms over and over.

suddenly his head doesn’t hurt anymore and he can finally, finally let go. Let the other half take his place for now, just for a little while, as he takes a small nap in Wei Ying’s arms.

when he wakes up, Lan Zhan cries all of his tears.

he was finally able to reach Wei Ying, his Wei Ying, who was trapped in another world. The one Lan Zhan has been looking for ever since the end of the Sunshot Campaign, ever since Jiang Cheng himself told him of his demise. The one Lan Zhan was able to reach only after sacrificing his golden core to the immortal turned goddes BaoShan Sanren in front of a gate born from the efforts of some past demonic cultivator.

for two years he had tried to make his way through the veil between realities, his consciousness exhausted as if he had been swimming for far too long. The other-him, the man who shared his name and face, hosting his soul at the expenses of his own body for over two years. All because of Lan Zhan’s grief and greed, all because a goddess had promised him he could be reunited with the love of his life. But at what cost... at what cost indeed.

since two souls cannot reside in a single body, one of them had to die in order for Lan Zhan to meet his Wei Ying again. The moment WWX sees the other cry, he immediately recognizes him and tries to console him for the loss of his “other”. But LWJ cannot seem to feel any relief as he falls asleep once more in his arms.

Jiang Cheng:

Jiang Cheng enters the room and is baffled to find one of the twins in there, but seeing his brother crying over the man he decides to help them instead of calling the servants. Things are turning ugly in town for people like them and he doesn’t trust anyone anymore since YanLi got married and started working for the hospital, leaving the brothers alone.

in tears, Wei Ying tells him everything: of his dreams of another world, of the one he was destined to meet, of Lan Zhan finally remembering who he really was. He’s still fixated on this “past life” thing, uh? Jiang Cheng doesn’t really understand, but he knows the two man has grown fond of each other the previous summer and doesn’t really envy their fate.

he watches over them as they fall asleep in each other’s arms, having promised them to keep the servants from knowing about Lan Zhan’s presence in their house. That’s when he comes up with a plan and calls Lan Huan on the phone, briefly telling him that “his brother Lan Zhan has made a choice and that he cannot stay in Tokyo anymore”.

Lan Huan asks Jiang Cheng if his brother is there, to which the other only says “yes”. Is he with Wei Ying? Yes. Are they in love? Yes. Do they need to hide? “I can manage that for them.”

They meet the following morning at dawn, outside of Lan XiChen’s house to not attract the attention of the Jiang servants. Jiang Cheng will escort the two lovebirds to a cottage somewhere in the countryside, far away from society. When Lan Huan will succeed in convincing Lan QiRen to follow him there, they will receive them and arrange something.

Jiang Cheng May not believe his brother, but he knows things are getting dangerous in the country, especially for foreigners like them. Let alone someone like Wei Ying and his lover.

Wei WuXian:

While Lan Zhan is still feverish, Jiang Cheng and WWX take the train with the older man to the countryside. WWX feels bad for leaving, but Lan Zhan needs to rest away from the modern world for a while and he himself doesn’t feel well at all. Not with his lungs giving up on him any time he has to stiffen a cough and swallow his own blood with every breath. His weakened body may have caught something in the last few months, but he will not give up on Lan Zhan now.

They reach the cottage and Jiang Cheng immediately sends a letter to his sister, apologizing for what he’s about to do. They only have to wait a week for Lan Huan and Lan QiRen to arrive, but in the meantime Lan Zhan has regained enough energy to eat and stand up on his own. WWX asks him what is going on, and LWJ tells him that he’s currently trying to hold onto this body while simultaneously ruling over his original body in Gusu. He doesn’t want to fade away, but he fears slipping out of reach and leave WWX behind a second time.

when Lan QiRen sees them, he cannot deny what is in front of him: someone who is merely pretending to be his nephew greets him with a stoic face as he announces his intention to marry a man. Despite the initial shock, when Lan Huan has asked him to take him in the middle of nowhere in the countryside in winter, Lan QiRen has accepted to indulge him knowing Lan Zhan must have had something to do with it. But this in front of him is definitely not his nephew and this realization hurts more then knowing he is in love with a man.

Lan Huan, on the other hand, knows from his voice this is not his brother but cannot explain why. He’s filled with grief at the thought and not even his uncle can comfort him, the older man himself in pain for a loss he cannot comprehend.

WWX asks them to indulge them just this time, feeling like his life is getting closer and closer to its end, not knowing what else to do. Jiang Cheng comforts the two men as he tries to explain his reasons, that nobody will let them have even an ounce of joy in the world they’re forced to live in and that, if things will end up getting worse in the end, at least they’ll have this memory to look back to. He feels like a war is approaching, and no one can know what kind of world will greet them at the end of it.

Lan Zhan:

the day of his wedding he’s very nervous, having asked their hosts to simplify the traditional ceremony given the fact that Wei Ying and he are both men and there are no actual guest attending. They bow to the heavens and the earth, to their families, and then to each other. Their clothes are far less expensive or appropriate from the nuptial red they would have worn under different circumstances, yet Lan Zhan has never felt more adorned and rich, basking in Wei Ying’s love.

they spend their first night together whispering sweet nothings in each other’s ears, tired and happy as they have never been before.

Wei WuXian:

they stay at the cottage for months, receiving news from the outside world every now and then from Jiang Cheng and Lan Huan. He suspects his brother is keeping something to himself, ignoring his questions over the political situation altogether, but he doesn’t insist.

LWJ tells him stories of the Sunshot Campaign, of how he tried to save the weak, the women, the children and the innocent of the Wen Clan against the rest of the cultivation world. Of how he found a way to summon BaoShan Sanren through some scrolls he had found in Burial Mounds, where he thought WWX’s soul might have disappeared to. Of how he hadn’t even been able to say goodbye to his brother and the people he had saved in Yiling before signing a contract with the immortal.

WWX’s lungs are giving up on him but he tries to keep LWJ from noticing. YanLi comes to meet them one day and makes sure to cry for her brother only when they are finally alone, sensing his intention to keep his husband from knowing the truth. He knows LWJ cannot possibly keep holding onto two bodies at the same time: waking up in Yiling the moment he falls asleep in the cottage; then waking up with Wei Ying every morning the moment he falls asleep in Burial Mounds where he has decided to hide. Without a golden core, for as strong as someone like LWJ can be, he would die if he keeps crossing the veil, the gate between the two worlds.

the day after YanLi has left them alone, WWX spends his last day with his husband, making sure everything is perfect. he also sends letters to his family and thanks them for loving him. he extends his best wishes to the people who worked alongside him, helping him bring to fruition his dream to fly in the sky once more... even if he has never flown in this lifetime.

he’s very happy with his husband and wants to commit every second they spend together to heart. They make love for the last time before they both fall asleep together and dream of home.

he whispers “I wish you good luck” before falling asleep.

Lan Zhan:

he wakes up the next day and Wei Ying is gone. His body cold in his arms.

mad with grief, unable to believe a life without WWX can or should exist, he cries over his husband’s body and wishes he could die.

Lan Huan and Lan QiRen happen to visit that day and find him crestfallen and asking to be left alone to die. But they help him bury the body instead and take care of him. Lan QiRen suddenly feels terrible at the thought of leaving this boy all alone, whether he’s actually his nephew or not. Lan Huan convinces his brother to eat and rest, holding him for as long as it takes for him to calm down.

the following day, as the younger twin wakes up, he asks Lan Huan why they’re in a cottage in the countryside and what happened while he was asleep.

the actual LWJ, by falling asleep, not willing to wake up in a world where WWX doesn’t exists anymore, has allowed double!LanZhan to regain complete control over the body in the cottage. The twin wasn’t dead, just dormant, waiting for LWJ to let go of his body on his own.

waking up in the Burial Mounds, however, with no golden core and no Wei Ying is worse than anything LWJ has ever experienced. Having to survive WWX’s death not one, but two times is too much to handle... but a small kid has found his place in his arms while LWJ was sleeping. His beloved A-Yuan, one of the few Wen children he was able to save from the Lanling Jin’s clutches after the Sunshot Campaign.

as he takes in the sight of the child he considers his own, peacefully sleeping in his bed, LWJ finds the strength to say “just another day”. And then another and another and another again.

13 years later:

Mo XuanYu sacrifices his body for WWX and the first thing Wei Ying does in his new body is to ask the Lan juniors to bring him to Hanguan Jun.

but Lan Zhan is already there, following the juniors around after managing to reforming a golden core in just a little over ten years all on his own. The first thing he says to Wei Ying is “I still remember every day.”

and they begin to travel together for the rest of their life.

*

Now I need a fucking tissue.

[as you can see very little “conquering another world” type of quest because I didn’t like to think too hard. This is more like “what if before transmigrating WWX and LWJ lived somewhere else and got married?” But then I had to make it sad, uh? Fuck.]

[also, demonic-cultivator!LWJ anyone?]

[reddieorrnot]

18? — pasteleddiekaspbrak

i know this trails off a bit, but i hope it’s still good!

number 18 from this list

“I think this would look so cute on you!”

Eddie’s head snapped up from the pants he was previously looking at, and saw Beverly holding up a baby pink t-shirt, with a butterfly embroidered on the chest. 

He knew that bringing Beverly along to his shopping trip at the mall would be a good idea, she always had such a good eye for fashion. Originally, Richie was supposed to tag along. But he had an appointment to get new glasses. 

The foolish boy had broken his old ones in half while skating home from school the day before. Eddie had been with him, and watching Richie take the trip and fall made his heart ache. But the second Richie made a joke about how much Eddie cared, Eddie pretended to walk away from the scene. Richie’s begging for Eddie’s medical assistance brought him right back, though.  

“It’s really pretty, Bev,” Eddie grinned and walked over to her, touching the fabric. It was incredibly soft, and Eddie had no doubts about making this purchase. 

“Try it on!” Beverly urged him, pushing him lightly toward the fitting rooms. With a light laugh, Eddie accepted and went to try on the shirt. He made his way, and entered one of the rooms. Slipping off his shirt, Eddie stared at himself in the mirror for a second, taking in his attributes. As a younger teen, Eddie had always been so skinny, convincing himself he was weak. Out of the desire to change how he viewed his strength, Eddie had started working out more. He offered to spend some days with Mike, helping him at the farm. Mike always made sure to give Eddie the cleaner jobs but ones that still produced more muscle definition over time. And over a few months, the chores had done their job. That’s why Eddie smiled at his reflection, feeling satisfied with how he looked. He also hadn’t minded it whenever the group of friends went to the quarry, and he’d catch Richie gaping at his shirtless image. While Eddie didn’t like to think about what it meant, he sure liked thinking about Richie’s shocked expression. 

Slipping on the clothing, Eddie already knew he loved the article. It fit him incredibly well, and made him feel like he looked adorable. He ran his fingers along the butterfly a few times, then pulled back the fitting room’s curtain to show Beverly, who had been patiently waiting outside.

“Oh, Eddie!” She squealed, jumping up onto her feet from the chair she had been in. “It looks amazing! I bet Richie would agree,” She gave him a sly wink. Eddie hoped how hot his cheeks got wasn’t visible, and simply replied to Beverly with an eye roll as he pulled the curtain shut. 

After taking the t-shirt off and checking out, he and Beverly made their way to a nearby frozen yogurt stand. They planned on just grabbing cups to go and heading home. Eddie stuck with more simple flavors, such as vanilla, strawberry, and occasionally chocolate. But he knew that was bad for your skin, it all was, but especially chocolate. Beverly, on the other hand, got nearly every flavor. Eddie’s face scrunched up in disgust as he watched Beverly pull the lever on “Blueberry blast”. 

“You know that’s like, all artificial, right?” He told his friend as they walked up to the cashier. 

“Wouldn’t want it any other way,” She giggled, taking his cup, signaling she was covering for both of them. Usually, Eddie wouldn’t allow it, but he had just bought something and wasn’t feeling up to spending any more money. He gave her a kind smile, one that indicated thankfulness. 

As they walked out of the mall, frozen yogurt cups in their hands, Eddie felt his phone buzz in his back pocket. 

“Can you grab my phone?” He asked Beverly, his hands being full. She complied with a nod, then got his phone for him. She took the bag from his hand, exchanging it with his phone. It was lit up, and on the screen was a text from Richie.

“ditch bev, come hang out at my place w me :(((“ 

Without thinking, Eddie grinned at his phone. This meant that Richie was back from getting new glasses. Richie wanting to be with him made his heart flutter in ways he knew it shouldn’t. But he couldn’t help it, he couldn’t help a lot of things he did or thought about when it came to Richie.

Beverly noticed the look on Eddie’s face, recognizing it as something she’d seen many times before. 

As they got in the car, Beverly driving, Eddie texted a reply to Richie.

“No need to ditch, just finished shopping. Can I ask her to drop me off at your place?”

Quicker than expected, Eddie’s phone buzzed again. 

“yes PLEASE” 

Eddie giggled, which made Beverly speak up.

“I know you’re texting Richie,” She told him, not looking away from the road. Eddie looked at her, embarrassed. Then shook his head.

“You don’t know anything.” 

“Sure, sure I don’t,” She smirked, “So… am I dropping you off at your house?”

Her tone suggested that she knew she didn’t need to ask that, and that she knew Eddie’s reply even before he answered. Which he did so with an annoyed huff. 

“No, Richie’s,” He mumbled merely above a whisper. 

“I’m sorry, I didn’t catch that?” 

“Richie’s, you heard me now?” He groaned.

“Loud and clear, no need to be cranky!” 

Beverly’s playful tone made it hard not to be amused, but Eddie still managed. She carried the conversation on, talking about how excited she was for later plans with Ben, and how they were going out to go see a movie. It all sounded so sweet, and Eddie loved seeing the smile that appeared on her face whenever she spoke of their friend. It went like that the whole drive to Richie’s, Eddie mainly listening. It was okay, anything was better than Beverly teasing him. Once he had finished his frozen yogurt, Beverly had offered to just throw the cup away for him when she got home, he thanked her. As they pulled up to the Tozier house, she said nothing, just shooting Eddie a wink as he waved goodbye to her from outside of the car. Eddie acted like he hadn’t seen it.

Walking up to the front door, Eddie thought about how much he truly loved Richie’s family and his home. Maggie Tozier always treated him so kindly, and behaved as if he had always been apart of the family. Went was the same, always making jokes with Eddie, and picking on Richie alongside. Richie liked to comment on how he didn’t know whether Eddie was his best friend or his parents. He knew Richie was just kidding around, but the idea of him even making that joke made Eddie feel so welcomed and safe. It had always felt like some sort of sacred haven of peace when Eddie was a kid, where there was no Sonia Kaspbrak to yell at him because his shoes had gotten dirty. If his shoes had indeed ever gotten dirt on them, he always walked with Richie to his house first, where Richie’s mother would offer to clean them off. Then afterward, he would go home, looking as clean as he had before he had left the house. This convinced his mother that he wasn’t going anywhere or doing anything she wouldn’t approve of. He absolutely adored coming over.

He adored it even more when Maggie’s familiar face opened up the door greeting him enthusiastically. 

“Eddie!” She pulled him in for a hug, causing the plastic bag in his hand to make a noise. Pulling away from the hug, Maggie joked, “Bought something for me? Oh, you shouldn’t have!”

Eddie laughed, feeling the smallest amount of guilt, even if he knew she was just fooling around, “Next time, Mrs. Tozier. Just came back from the mall with Beverly.”

“I miss her so much! She doesn’t come around here enough, tell her she’s still as welcome as always!” 

Eddie beamed, and made a mental note to let Beverly know what Maggie had said. 

“Richie’s in his room, I believe. Just head on up there.”

With a nod, Eddie went up to the staircase and in the direction of Richie’s room. 

Eddie had always been so fascinated with Richie’s room. He had never seen something so alike to the inhabitant's personality. There were posters essentially all over the walls, along with photographs and magazine cut-outs. Not the types of magazines where all the woman wore bikinis, but the ones with his favorite bands or singers. While it wasn’t necessarily messy, it wasn’t organized to anyone but Richie himself. Eddie, personally, wouldn’t be able to find a thing in Richie’s room without help. But Richie? You could ask him for a pin and he’d know exactly where to look. It was impressive, Eddie had thought. 

Eddie knocked on Richie’s room door and heard the familiar voice. 

“Has my Eds arrived?”

Opening the door, Eddie replied, “No, but Eddie’s here.”

Richie was sitting on his bed, a comic book in hand. As he looked up to Eddie, everything in the world stopped. 

Richie wasn’t wearing his old glasses, the ones that had broken. But he wasn’t wearing his new glasses either, the ones he was supposed to have gotten earlier today. Yet, even at the absence of glasses, Richie wasn't helplessly squinting. And maybe that’s why Eddie had never noticed how blue his best friend's eyes were. How Eddie swore he could see the most beautiful sky in Richie's eyes, and how all he wanted was to be laying down on the grass, looking at that exact sky. But that wasn’t all, Eddie swore he saw the clearest ocean as well. One where just hearing the waves crash made all of Eddie’s problems disappear, and all that mattered was Richie. 

“You like ‘em?” Richie laughed.

“Huh?” Eddie answered, confused. He dropped his bag by the door and walked over to Richie’s bed, sitting beside him. The desire to just drown in Riche’s eyes only grew stronger as Eddie moved closer. 

“My contacts! When I went to the eye doctor, he gave me new glasses, but also these things,” Richie pointed to his contacts, “They feel a little funny at first, but I can see without annoying ass glasses in the way.” 

Eddie swallowed nervously, “Yeah.”

“So? You like ‘em?” Richie looked like a child waiting for candy, excited to hear Eddie’s reply. This was one of those moments where Eddie didn’t think through what he said. His brain just decided it was confident enough itself to let the next words he said spill out from his mouth.

“Did I ever tell you how beautiful your eyes are?”

He must’ve not been expecting something like that, because Richie’s eyes widened and his face got red. Eddie was sure he had crossed some line. Richie called Eddie cute and pretty all the time, but maybe that was a thing only he could do because he was always kidding. Maybe Eddie couldn’t say that stuff… because they both must have known he wasn’t kidding. Eddie went to back up, make some joke to cover it all up, but Richie spoke first. His tone was bashful, full of flattery.

“Gee, Eds. I don’t even know what to say, that was so sweet.” 

Thankful for nothing bad happening, Eddie didn’t risk anything further. He didn’t even say anything on the nickname. 

“Yeah, well, I’m like that sometimes,” He told Richie with a shrug. 

Richie’s flushed complexion wasn’t diminished though, as he had a dumb grin on while looking at Eddie. Desperate to get the attention off what he said, Eddie thought of the first topic change he could.

“I bought a new t-shirt today.” 

“Ooo, where is it? In that bag?” 

Eddie nodded, getting up and walking over to where he had dropped his shopping bag. He bent over to grab the t-shirt, and if he had turned around fast enough, he would have seen Richie getting red all over again at the sight of Eddie in that position. 

As he walked back to the bed, Eddie unfolded the shirt and held it out, showing it off. 

“It’s real cute, just like you.” 

“Oh, shut it, Rich,” But Eddie knew he didn’t mean it. He considered what he was going to say next, then just blurted it out. “Want me to try it on? So you can see how it looks?”

Richie only stared at him, making Eddie nervous.

“Only… Only Beverly saw me with it on, and sometimes she doesn’t… she doesn’t really tell me when something doesn’t look good. And I wanna make sure it looks good?” Eddie tried to make sense of his words, but the way he trailed off and looked anywhere but Richie betrayed him.

“Yeah, go ahead,” Richie finally said, tone hushed and breathy. 

Eddie nodded, putting the shirt down, and slowly grabbing the bottom hem of his shirt and pulling it up, over his head. He let his eyes fall on Richie, before he grabbed his new t-shirt, and Eddie would be lying to himself if he said he didn’t see how Richie was looking at him. With his eyes dark and his mouth slightly agape, staring at Eddie’s bare chest. Eddie felt his hands get sweaty, realizing the silence between them. Even if he had wanted to make a move, which a small part of him did long to do, Richie seemed too in trance to do so. The concept would have made Eddie laugh if he hadn’t been so nervous. So he finally pulled on the shirt that he had been clutching, and clutching hard, he realized. 

“How does it look?” He finally managed to say, not looking at Richie but instead the floor.

There was a beat of stillness in the air.

“It looks good. But you, you look beautiful.” 

Eddie looked back up, expecting this to be one of Richie’s countless jokes. But what he saw instead was nothing but honesty in those stunning blue eyes.

Eddie so, so, extremely fucked.

[dpillustrations]

A Discourse on Communication and Storytelling Part II: The Idealization of Nihilism

In my previous post, I outlined the flawed narrative structure of the conclusion of Game of Thrones. I focused primarily on Daenerys and how her story did not communicate effectively what Benioff and Weiss were wanting to accomplish with her, i.e. her becoming “Mad Queen” Targaryen. I then asked what it was that they did communicate through her story. Here is where I would like to begin.

As an artist and visual storyteller, I have become exceedingly grieved and disgusted with a lot of the stories in our entertainment today. Every one of my favorite shows one right after another ended in disappointment for me. I asked myself, why? Why were all these amazing shows, many of whom have exceptional talent working on them, crashing and burning, in my less than humble opinion? I believe the answer is multi-faceted, but I am going to zero in on one aspect for the sake of time and my argument. In short, cynicism and a nihilistic world view have poisoned the storytelling landscape.

I mean I get it. You only have to open your social media or major news page and you can find tons of reasons to bemoan the state of our society, our country, and the world. I understand the disappointment, the bitterness, the seething rage – I get it! I have felt it myself! I know precisely how everyone is feeling because I am feeling it too. I know that feeling of being utterly useless to help or stop any injustice or wrong from happening. The struggle is real. 

However, the struggle is not all there is, and I believe that is the crucial thing to remember because something much more sinister than our own despair is happening, which is that we are coming to love our despair. Our bitterness and anger is becoming a part of how we are defining ourselves every day. Suddenly instead of these ideas and attitudes being recognized as the poison that they are, we drink it like it is sweet nectar. And to me that is exceedingly more grieving than feeling negative emotions in of themselves. We all feel negative emotions, we all feel the pain of life to one degree or another. This is a part of life, but to actually redefine and look upon those attitudes and thoughts as beneficial, glorious, and wise? That is the truly terrible thing.

My own piece entitled: 美  which is the Chinese pictogram for “beauty”. 

Now let us dig deeper into what I mean. If you recall from Game of Thrones Season 4 where Tyrion tells Jaime the story about their cousin Orson Lannister. He describes how in his simpleness, Orson would crush beetles all the day long, and Tyrion became obsessed with divining why Orson was doing this. He felt there had to be a reason, that there had to be some meaning behind what he was doing. Obviously, this story is an analogy. What Tyrion was really expressing was the aged old question, what does it all mean. I will paste the discussion below:

Tyrion: [...] In any case, I found nothing that illuminated the nature of Orson's affliction or the reason behind his relentless beetles slaughter. So I went back to the source. I may not have been able to speak with Orson, but I could observe him, watch him, the way men watch animals to come to a deeper understanding of their behavior. And as I watched, I became more and more sure of it: there was something happening there. His face was like the page of a book written in a language I didn't understand, but he wasn't mindless, he had his reasons. And I became possessed with knowing what they were. I began spending inordinate amounts of time watching him. I would eat my lunch in the garden, chewing my mutton to the music of "kun kun kun". And when I wasn't watching him, I was thinking about him. Father droned on about the family legacy and I thought about Orson's beetles. I read the histories of Targaryen conquests. Did I hear dragon wings? No, I heard "kun kun kun". And I still couldn't figure out why he was doing it. And I had to know because it was horrible, that all these beetles would be dying for no reason.

Jaime: Every day around the world, men, women, and children are murdered by the score. Who gives a dusty f*** about a bunch of beetles?

Tyrion: I know, I know, but still it filled me with dread. Piles and piles of them, years and years of them. How many countless living, crawling things smashed, dried out, and returned to the dirt? In my dreams, I found myself standing on a beach made of beetle husks stretching as far as the eye can see. I woke up, crying, weeping for their shattered little bodies. I tried to stop Orson once.

Jaime: He was twice your size.

Tyrion: He just pushed me aside with a "kun", kept on smashing. Every day. Until that mule kicked him in the chest and killed him. So what do you think? Why did he do it? What's it all about?

Jaime: I don't know.

This here is a perfect encapsulation of what I have observed in so many of our stories of late, stories which by their very nature are asking that aged old question, what does it all mean. Benioff and Weiss have just expressed it with a heavy hand here, while other writers and artists have a more subtle approach. 

To make it clear what I am talking about, I want to draw a parallel between Tyrion’s story and what happened with Daenerys Targaryen. In this story, the audience is Tyrion – we are drawn to the story of Daenerys like Tyrion was drawn to the story of Orson. We were enraptured by her struggles as a character and divining the meaning of her story just as Tyrion sought to know the why of Orsen’s actions with the beetles. I mean isn’t that what we do as fans? We love going online and theorizing with other fans about what is going to happen, why it is going to happen, observing all the details of the plot and character arcs. We love seeking things out! 

I cannot remember where I heard it, but it was in something I watched where they pointed out that audiences love to discover things on their own. They like being able to feel like they figured out something, that they found out something the writer had hidden or perhaps may not have been aware of. There is excitement in exploring the story, just as Tyrion was enthralled with understanding the truth and meaning behind Orson’s beetle slaughter. Yet what happened after all of Tyrion’s study, observations, ruminations, and questions? What happened to us the audience when we came to the end of Daenerys’ story? What happened to all that time and effort spent in watching, theorizing, and discussing? Despite Daenerys’ struggle as the underdog in her own story suffering abuse and pain - despite the awe of witnessing dragons coming to life from dormant eggs - despite all the lessons Daenerys learned as a ruler through her mistakes - all of it came to nothing. Just as Tyrion never divined the meaning behind Orson’s senseless slaughter, so we came to the end of Game of Thrones, having gained no beneficial understanding by our journey. Mad Queen Targaryen. Jon kills her. Orson gets killed by a mule. All the world burns. Beetles die for no reason. The End. 

Tyrion: So what do you think? Why did he do it? What's it all about?

Jaime: I don't know.

Game of Thrones isn’t the only show with these problems. In the FX show Legion, David Haller, the protagonist of the story, is suddenly twisted to become the show’s villain. He’s been Daenerys Targaryen-ed. 

Trish Walker from Jessica Jones Season 3, also Daenerys Targaryen-ed.

This one is from a movie (it isn’t only in tv shows) and it is a little more subtle, but Professor X in Dark Phoenix was suddenly twisted as this arrogant douche who was controlling and manipulative - the “idol” of the X-Men school brought low. The “idealistic delusion” of Professor X as a heroic leader unveiled to show us the true frailties underneath! *GASP*

As you can see within the very fabric of Benioff and Weiss’s writing, nihilism pervades. It isn’t just in Daenerys’ story, but scattered throughout the stories of Game of Thrones - i.e. how Jaime Lannister went from redemption story to dying under a pile of rocks. Yet not only is nihilism pervading, but it is being romanticized, like there is something profound and powerful in its telling - like we are achieving some enlightened ideal in heralding its tenets. Many storytellers, not just Benioff and Weiss, have become just like that whole scene where Tyrion goes underground and discovers the dead bodies of Jaime and Cersei. Observe how the whole sequence was filmed in excruciating reverence, as we watch Tyrion walk through one ruin to the next. It is is a sobering moment, almost holy in how it is filmed - Tyrion’s silent pilgrimage as he approaches the thing he has dreaded most... 

Remember how I mentioned in my previous post that every aspect of the cinematic arts is communicating something? The dialogue, the lighting, the way something is framed, what is shown vs what is not shown, the music, the colors, etc. I would encourage you to rewatch this scene and pay attention to how Benioff and Weiss are wanting you to feel as all these elements are spun together. And when Tyrion does finally arrive, after seeing Jaime’s golden hand amongst the rubble, Tyrion expresses a kind of ritualistic act as he removes the stones one by one, uncovering the truth. Oh, the existential dread! Tyrion weeps and thrashes in the horror and pain of it all! Woe, woe, woe! How powerful, how terrible, how divine!  

Observe the way Jaime and Cersei are orchestrated here. Despite being crushed by an onslaught of incredibly heavy stones and rocks, they are pictured here in peaceful and reverent positions - something akin to a Renaissance painting. How does that make you feel when you look upon it? The gentle, diffused white light, the atmosphere of ecclesiastical reflection - it is romantic, is it not? It is showing a glorified ideal! Behold the profundity of the nothingness! 

Do you see what I mean? There is this glorification of showing the meaninglessness of life, of uncovering “the truth” that this life is full of ugliness and pain, of unmasking our delusions, of showing that there is always “someone behind the curtain”, our idols become monsters, our heroes become villains, it was all a lie, it was all a sick cosmic joke - and this is what empowers us and makes us wise. Oh, look how discerning and insightful we are as we reflect back to you the despair of a twisted humanity!

Me to Writers about how they believe their cynical worldviews are working in their stories:

Now, I am not at all saying that stories cannot speak to the ugliness of this world, because there is truth in ugliness. There is pain, suffering, dread, brokenness, disillusionment, bitterness, anger, hate, and a myriad of dark and terrible things. I am not saying we should only tell feel-good stories where everyone lives “happily ever after”. No, what I am pointing out is an attitude that many storytellers have towards that ugliness. All artists have an obligation to speak to all truth, but there is huge difference between telling a story about ugliness vs making making that ugliness seem romantic. There is a difference between showing how life feels arbitrary and meaningless vs saying life is meaningless and arbitrary. There is such a big gap there.

So, I speak to all storytellers now: you are not profound for making statements about the despair of reality. You are not wise. You are not enlightened. It is easy for anyone to despair. It is much more difficult to rejoice in the face of that despair. It is easy to grow in bitterness and disappointment, much more difficult to believe in hope in the face of that disappointment. It is easy to observe ugliness, much more difficult to discern the beauty underneath, within, and despite it. And so that is what it really comes down to – it is easy to write a story like Daenerys “Mad Queen” Targaryen. It is easy to have her twist her own ideals and dreams into the dying screams of a burning city. It is easy to tell a story where someone falls than it is to tell a convincing and realistic story of redemption. It doesn’t require any work – nihilism is the lazy man’s philosophy. If all is meaningless, if nothing truly has any value, than that means you hold no responsibility to anyone or anything. It means you do not have to change the way you are doing things, that you can coast, lay back, and just watch the world burn. You can pat yourself on the back for being “woke” and not falling for the opiates of the masses. You don’t have to do any soul searching. You do not have analyze your own world view or assumptions. You don’t have to work at trying to understand what life truly means or try to find the purpose amidst all the chaos. There is no truth except the truth of nothing, therefore you are free to do nothing without guilt or shame. Nihilism is one big fat existential cop out! 

Therefore, I say to all artists, storytellers, writers, showrunners, and creators – stop dishing out this crap for audiences to eat and get off your lazy asses and get to work!  

[bisexual-inuyasha]

Snow Drift

If snow can drift, so can leaves and dust and responsibilities. – Neil Hilborn, “Snow Theory”

A/N: BotW AU, where Ling is Prince of Xing. He’s supposed to be able to feel the Dragon Pulse, supposed to be able to stop what’s coming like his Father and his Father’s Father before him. He goes to the Spring of Power to see if he can trigger his abilities. His faithful Knight follows him.

Ling stared at the lump of rock. The scene was picture perfect: light filtered through the clouds to shine pointedly on the statue, silent princes glowed in the shadows, and his Knight stood with his back turned in an illusion of privacy. Ling had never been more miserable.

The rock remained a rock. No sweet voice called out to him. No power thrummed through the water. Nothing happened at all except that now his legs were wet. The dread gnawed its way up his spine. Fear clawed at his throat. He could feel the walls of expectation closing in on him. Suddenly the Spring was too enclosed. All the empty space above him meant nothing because he could not see the sky.

“Why can’t I hear anything? Why can’t I do this? What’s wrong with me?” His question bounced back to him, louder as it echoed off the rocks. He couldn’t even revel alone in his anguish successfully. Ed would have heard.

He took his time turning around. If he moved slowly enough, Ed would give up trying to sneak a look at him before Ling faced him. Then he could avoid his face for the rest of the day.

He dove under the water. White robes rose in a cloud above him. The water wasn’t deep enough to fully submerge into, but with his head between his knees, he couldn’t see or hear anything above the water.

He looked around. The Spring was peaceful. A frog pushed its way through the water with its powerful legs. The glow of a silent prince cast his voluminous robes in soft blues, completing the illusion he’d dove into a cloud. He wondered how long he could hold his breath. He started counting the stones on the bottom of the water until he could feel his lungs burning.

He’d reached sixty before a boot interrupted his counting. He didn’t have time to ready himself. A hand grabbed his robe and pulled him up to his knees. Water dripped down his forehead and nose, dribbled down to his chin. Like he’d planned, all the salty tears he’d cried had been left behind in the Spring.

“What were you trying to do, drown yourself?” Ed’s usually calm voice snapped. The Knight’s temper didn’t at up much, and almost never at Ling. Duty all but forbade it. When it did, a sticky embarrassment clung to Ling until he’d been properly restored to Ed’s good graces.

“Don’t be silly, there can’t be more than two feet of water here. I was just having a swim is all.” Ling waved Ed’s worry away and stretched his lips into a smile.

“You’re wet and we’ve got to get back to the palace. The air is freezing.” Ed squeezed one of Ling’s long sleeves. Water streamed between his fingers and splashed into the pool. “You’ll get hypothermia.”

“Not with your determination—I’m sure you’ve already got a plan to make me all better again.” The outfit was heavy and cold and cumbersome. His horse hadn’t like it anyway. He’d told his father he hadn’t liked the outfit, but the Spring of Power was sacred and so his clothes must be too. He should have brought a change.

Ed watched him for a moment, hands resting back on their sword. His metal fingers twitched every few seconds, though Ed didn’t seem to notice. Ling noted Ed’s flesh hand had no such tics. He had noticed too many things too often about Ed. His contemplative eyes at dinner when he ate with his brother and brainstormed strategies to defend the Palace. His heavy smile whenever he returned from Zora’s domain with new Winry tales. His silent anger in meetings where Revali spoke over Ling in favor of the bird champion’s own ideas. The King would not approve.

Princes did not fall in love with Knights. Certainly not a Prince whose destiny was very clear. He would defeat Ganon. There was no time for anything else.

“It is my duty to protect you. Understand?” Ed’s face burned red.

Ed took off his tunic. There were scars beneath. Old ones, like the rugged edge of his automail and the small cut under his eye. Ling saw newer ones, too. Fresher, pinker than the others. A long scar across his side—a misstep with the Master sword—was the newest. Ling thought he could still see a few marks where the stitches had only just healed.

Ling had been so concentrated on Ed’s chest and arms he hadn’t fully recognized what Ed was offering. It wasn’t until he saw the arm outstretched, tunic hanging from the ticking fingers, that Ling registered what he was meant to do

“You want me to wear that?”

“The robes are the heaviest thing you’re wearing, which means they’ll take the longest to dry. We don’t have that kind of time. With that much water freezing on you, you wouldn’t make it three steps.”

Ling frowned. “What will you wear?”

Ed gestured over his bare torso. “I’ll be fine.”

Arguing would be fruitless. Ed had done this sort of thing before. Ling suspected acts of pointed selflessness made him feel heroic. He’d had few chances to prove himself so far but the King said that would be changing soon. Ling had no doubts Ed would be more than ready. Already the Knight was proficient in sword work, had proven himself to a begrudging Revali, endeared himself to Armstrong in Goron. In a matter of time, Riza would tell Ling about some amazing feat he pulled in Gerudo.

“Why do you look like that?” Ed didn’t turn around while Ling took off his robes. But he didn’t watch him either.

“Like what?”

Ed was silent for a moment. Ling could hear the ticking. He’d hear that sound forever. He was certain of it. “Like you’re hollow,” Ed finally turned to look at him when the tunic fell over his head. “All the way through here.”

Ed poked Ling’s chest with an automail finger.

Ling’s mouth fell open. A whirlwind of emotion spun through him at once but only one thought fought its way up his throat. “How do you see?”

Ed must not have expected him to answer. He took a step back, cleared his throat, and turned towards the exit. “We should hurry, before the night gets too cold.”

The snow fell lazily outside the Spring. Small piles of new and clean white covered their dirty footprints from their long trek. They wouldn’t be getting home tonight—not if this was any indicator of how the weather would go. Ling shivered, but didn’t say anything about the cold. With Ed’s automail, they couldn’t spend long in the open.

“I think I saw a cabin a little way up the hill.” Ed waved a hand toward a hill among hills. Ling never knew where his Knight was taking him when they went off route. He’d learned Ed would take care of things, as long as one didn’t question him too much.

Ling plucked silent princes as they climbed, tucking them into the wrap around his torso. He stumbled when the ice on his legs began to numb his feet. After the third time, Ling tripped over a stone hidden beneath the snow. He landed with all his limbs splayed out, his face crunching frostbitten grass and twigs.

Ed sighed and doubled back. They had an awkward few minutes where Ed struggled to position Ling on his back but that didn’t last long. Ed put his fingers in his lips and blew out a whistle that rung in Ling’s ears.

They hadn’t gone more than a few yards before the horses showed up. Ed lay Ling across his and set to work tying them together. “I wanted to avoid using the horses. They’re big and noticeable. We don’t have a lot of cover. I just don’t think either of us will get very far like this.”

Ed talked to him steadily on the rest of the trip. Ling trembled. His hair froze to his face. His hands shook. He grew so tired, so ready to be home and warm and asleep before the next day’s worries. He stayed awake so he could hear the rest of Ed’s story.

It was a pleasant story—one Ling had heard before. Ed’s brother had been a royal guard before him. Alphonse was good enough to lead his class. They’d all expected the sword to choose him as the hero. Instead, it hadn’t reacted at all to Al’s touch. The relief was palpable as it rolled off him in waves. The relief lasted for weeks while they scrambled to test the sword with every knight. None of them worked.

Then Ed came to visit Al from his travels in Goron city. His skin was bronzed in those days. Months out of the scorching heat had made him pale again, like his brother. Ling knew then he’d be the one. A coil had begun to tighten the day Ed came into the Palace. It tightened with every step they took towards the Calamity. Ling had brought Ed to the weapon’s room. He’d disguised the sword as a plain weapon, wrapped in an unremarkable cloth.

The cloth, oiled and browned with dirt, hadn’t hidden the gleam. Ed’s fingers wrapped around the hilt and they’d hurtled toward the end.

It had taken another three weeks for Ed to realize he’d been lured into the weapon’s room by the Prince of Xing.

Al was the one who’d told him after he saw Ed and Ling drinking late into the night in Ed’s small cabin, the Master sword resting in the corner after Ling had “gifted” it to him.

Ling remembered Al walking in that night. Ling wasn’t nearly as drunk as he’d pretended to be. Al thought he was revealing an amazing secret. Ling felt as though the young knight had stolen a precious gift.

Ed’s laughter had faded that night, and had never fully returned.

He must have dosed. The next thing he knew, Ed was jostling him awake in front of a fire.

“I know you’re tired, Prince.” Ed poked some fish with a stick. He had his shirt back. Ling’s robes had been freed of their long sleeves and half their length to hang over a fire. The cabin was more shack than cabin. Ling counted only one room and no amenities.

They must be in a town lost to the Lizalfos. Ed had cursed a dozen times when they’d discovered the new breed of monsters with horns that gave off electric currents.

“You never answered my question.” Ed flipped a sizzlefin trout into the embers. The skin would taste like char and the meat would be unevenly cooked. But Ling appreciated Ed had listened the last time he’d talked about his research.

“You never answered mine.”

Ed hummed. It was a sweet sound. From what Ling gathered, it was an old lullaby his mother had used to play for him. He’d told Ling, in their fleeting time as just two people who’s met by chance, that when his mother sang to him time stood still. The severity of the memory, the suffocating sorrow in the memory, had knocked Ling breathless.  

Ed covered the fish in embers. He finished his song and set his eyes on Ling. “I watch you. You separate yourself from the other Champions. You are fiercely protective of all of Xing, and of the others, but you refuse to get close.”

Ling smiled. His thoughts were groggy and slow but he knew he didn’t want to answer that question. Not really. “I am meant to die, aren’t I? What is the point of getting too close?”

Ed nodded. “I understand. All I can think of when I hold this sword is how likely I am to lose my brother. I’ll never be able to punch my dad in the face like I want to.”

Ling snorted. “You want to punch your dad in the face?”

“Don’t you want to punch yours?”

Ling laughed. Snow flurried in through a window. The cold outside could not reach him through the fire. “My dad is the King.”

“And yet, despite his divine rule, he can’t seem to grasp the value of your research.”

Ling curled into a tight ball.

Ed had been stationed outside his door the night his father had come into his room. Ling hadn’t gone to his meetings that day. He’d spent the day studying hearty salmon instead. He’d found that combining salmon and truffles could produce a meal that significantly reduced one’s chances of becoming mortally injured in a fight. He’d had the best knights testing out his meals for weeks now. He’d had even greater luck with elixirs.

The elixirs had been the final straw for his father.

Don’t you think you risk his life enough having him accompany you to all of your trips out to the abandoned camps? He should be here, training! Not gathering up lizard tails and octorok eyeballs for your childish playing!

His father had been right. Like he would be right when he was angry with Ling for being late coming home. How could he take his destiny if he couldn’t stop playing with bugs and frogs and critters?

“My brother had one of those hasty elixirs. You know, the ones with that frog you showed me? He was able to outrun a Moblin just as it turned the corner. It saved his life.” Ed pulled the fish from the embers. “It’s about to save ours.”

Ling ate the fish greedily. The skin was unseasoned, and more than once he bit into a spot that was soft and undercooked. As he ate it, he could feel warmth return to his skin. His stomach burned like a hot coal, but his muscles and bones were pleasantly warm. Ed finished two in the time it took Ling to eat one. When they’d finished, they sat back happily.

“Well, now that we don’t have to worry about freezing to death for the next several minutes, we can relax.”

Ling laughed. The sound started as a chuckle, then spread until it boomed through his chest. He couldn’t remember a time he’d ever relaxed. The closest he’d come had been when he was lying to Ed.

“Tell me, Ling.” Ed rested his head in his hands. “Why don’t you ever speak of your mother?”

Ling’s laughter stopped. He tried to recall the woman. He sensed kindness, sorrow, worry. He remembered a tiredness he could feel deep inside her. Her face, he couldn’t remember. She just looked generic in his mind—dark hair, average weight and height. Faceless. “I don’t remember her well.”

“Oh. I’m sorry.”

“It’s ok. She didn’t die when I was young. She just. Was always busy. What I’m supposed to be able to do is usually guided by a friend or relative. Mother was supposed to be mine, but a stray bokoblin got her when she was on the way back from Gerudo. She was supposed to help me come into whatever power I have, but so far, nothing has happened. I think my father suspects they got it wrong this time. Shiekah people wrap themselves in their mysteries and never consider how rude it is to other people.” Ling shrugged. He tried to keep the motion easy and lazy, but his shoulders were too heavy. “Maybe my father is right.”

Ed frowned. “Maybe the sword is wrong, too. I’d never considered being a night before this. I was always intent to be a traveler.”

“Are you kidding me? I had my doubts when we first started—not of you, mind, but of all of this. But you’ve picked up sword fighting almost overnight. The other knights are jealous. You are excelling at your destiny.”

Ed gave a dissatisfied grunt. He pulled Ling’s dismantled robe down from the fire. “It’s warm. We should try to get some sleep. We’ve got to head out tomorrow.”

Ling nodded. He feared he’d somehow insulted his Knight, and he wasn’t sure how. He’d meant to be encouraging. Complimentary even. He decided not to risk speaking any more.

Ed lay on his back. The shack had nothing in the way of a bed or cushion. Likely, the people had taken what they could carry and the Lizalfos had destroyed the rest. Ling’s earlier nap hadn’t done much in the way of rest, but even still, he found himself unable to keep his eyes closed.

Instead his gaze drifted to Ed laying restlessly, fingers tapping out a soft rhythm on the stone floor. After a while, he looked out the window to the silvery moon. They were lucky the moon hadn’t turned red. It had taken to doing so the last few months, at random. And when it did, the monsters seemed to come out in droves.

“Tomorrow we could take the long way around, if you’d like. I know you’ve been running low on hot-footed frogs. We could catch some. Maybe some of those hearty lizards, too.” Ed’s tapping stopped.

“The King would be—”

“And I could try to practice fighting these lizard fellows. We could see about making Al some more of that potion.”

“It’s an elixir.” Ling’s lips twitched into a smile of their own accord. In the dark, the smile was for no one but himself.

“After all this is over, and Ganon is defeated…” Ed’s tapping resumed. “Do you have any plans?”

Ling remembered the fate of every Prince in his role. There would not be an after. Not for a long time. “Not really, no.”

Ed moved across the fire, until his body was inches from Ling’s. “We should go see Goron city together. They eat rocks there. Shaped like meat. I don’t know how it works exactly, but you may be able to get Daruk to show you.”

Ling closed the gap. If his Knight was offering to keep him warm and speak of future plans, he’d not turn him away. It would be nice, for once, to imagine a future where he was not smothered under the weight of Xing. Or any future at all, for that matter.

“What is Goron city like? What were you doing there?”

Ed began to tell him stories about a stone and the power to ward off attacks. Ling listened, mainly to the cadence of his voice, and watched the snow drift outside. He pretended not to notice Ed’s hand reach for his. Despite his efforts, Ling drifted off in the middle of Ed’s story.

The Knight didn’t seem to mind.

They both deserved a long rest.

 A/N: I know crossover day is a different day, but I saw royalty in the prompts for today and couldn’t help myself. SO. Here’s a BotW au. I’ll do another fanwork or crossover thing for that day. I just got to the Slumbering Power part of Captured Memories, and was so inspired!

@edling-week

[purpleswans1]

The Sports Festival

Here’s another one for my Villain!Izuku AU that won’t be tagged for Villain Month despite using the prompt “Quirk.” Unfortunately there are basically no canon villains in this one, unless you count Endeavor *glare at that flaming trashcan*

Read also on FF and AO3.

The day of the UA Sports Festival, Izuku made the executive decision to watch the event in person. He justified it to Uraraka by saying he wanted to observe contestants the cameras might not focus on, but in reality it was to avoid Tomura for a while. His brother had become insufferable since the failed attack on the USJ, especially since he blamed Izuku for the failure.

To be fair it had been Izuku’s plan, but he really didn’t need to be around a grouching Tomura when his failure against Kachan was still fresh.

Still, this was a wonderful opportunity. He’d bought tickets at the last minute so he was stuck in the nosebleeds, but that was just fine with Izuku. He had some decent goggles, and he was less likely to be recognized that way. He wasn’t wearing much of a disguise -- just a green hoodie and some sunglasses -- and was going to be relying on his inconspicuousness to keep the authorities off his back. He did have his gun and a knife hidden in his hoodie, but he’d rather not use them. He was able to get to his seat without incident, so the disguise must be doing some good.

The festival took place over the course of 3 days, one for each grade. Usually the volume of spectators gradually increased each day, with the 1st years attracting the least amount of people, but this year more people showed up on the 1st day than usual. This didn’t affect Izuku, but he did wonder whether it was because of his attack on class 1-A.

It was likely that the world was expecting more from that class now, and he wasn’t sure how he felt about that.

Anyway, the opening ceremonies were pretty much the same as every year. As soon as the announcer invited Kachan up to give the oath, Izuku knew that his former bully was going to do something ridiculous. He did feel somewhat vindicated when all the other students yelled at Kachan, so that was a plus.

The first event was an obstacle course. Izuku took note of a few quirks being used creatively -- Mineta’s strategy certainly wasn’t very sporting, but one couldn’t argue its effectiveness -- but overall was underwhelmed by the display. He already knew a lot about the capabilities of 1-A, and most of the other classes were not going out of their way to show off. Izuku wondered if this was an actual strategy or if they just didn’t have that impressive abilities.

Well, they are only 1st years. They have 3 years of schooling to get through before they’d be expected to act like pros.

The final obstacle was a minefield. All of the students either walked around them carefully or used their quirks to glide across, which was pretty standard reaction. Izuku kind of wished there were more creative students among them, since controlled explosions could be very useful, if you were daring enough. Even Kachan, who should know better than anyone else how to use explosions, didn't capitalize on the mindfield's potential. He just used his own explosions to fly over the mines, not daring to touch them.

As such, it wasn't surprising when the student with the most powerful quirk -- Todoroki -- won the race, with Kachan as a close second. Izuku was happy to see his old rival humiliated, but was still disappointed the first event ended without anything interesting.

The second event was a cavalry battle. Izuku had high hopes for this one, since he could gauge the student’s teamwork. An individual hero was only as powerful as their quirks and their training, but a team could fly high or fail spectacularly depending on the group dynamics. Izuku could get all the information he wanted on quirks and individual stats using the school’s database, but he could only judge the future heroes’ teamwork by watching events like this. The way students chose teams might also showcase their analytical skills, but he didn’t have high hopes on that front.

They were only 1st years, after all. He’d figured out a long time ago that people with strong quirks usually only focused on their own abilities and didn’t consider how they could work with other quirks. UA did a decent job of breaking them out of that habit, but it took time.

Izuku tapped his pen on the edge of his notebook. I wonder what it would be like if I could give these future heroes tips on working together.

He quickly pushed that thought out of his mind and focused on the cavalry battle. No point in dwelling on what-ifs.

Izuku was pleasantly surprised by the cavalry battle. With 1-B’s poor performance in the obstical course he’d dismissed them, but both they and a few gen-ed kids were the true stars of this event. True, both Kachan’s team and the group supporting Todoroki remained in the top two spots the entire time, but the other top spots were a fierce battle between the rest of 1-A, a few noteworthy 1-B teams, and this one group in complete synergy headed by a gen-ed student. The top four ended up being team Todoroki, team Bakugo, the team headed by Monoma from 1-B, and the group with that tired-looking gen-ed student named Shinsou.

Looks like the 1-B students deliberately hid their powers to give themselves an edge, Izuku thought. Not a bad strategy, but it can only be used once and defeats the publicity purpose of the sports festival. Then again, they’re getting 2 more chances to show off like this over the course of their high school career, and not many people usually watch the 1st years. Plus, the one-on-one battles are where individuals can shine so they could have been counting on getting to that point which wasn’t smart since only 16 students get that far…

“Uh, you okay kid?” a nearby man asked. “You’re muttering to yourself.”

Izuku jumped. “Oh, I’m so sorry! It’s an old habit! My teacher and brother keep telling me to stop it, but it always slips out when I’m concentrating or overly enthusiastic about something.”

The man laughed. “It’s fine, kid. I was just worried about you.”

I should probably get away for a while; he might try to start a conversation and ask questions. “Hey, mind letting me out? We should have some time until the next event and I want to beat the line to the bathroom.”

The man graciously let Izuku out of the stadium row. Izuku quickly gathered his stuff -- just a few spare notebooks, his laptop, and his wallet shoved in a backpack -- and headed down the stairs, looking for a secluded place he could review his notes.

I need to look back over my stats on those 1-B students. I should also check the school’s database for info on that gen-ed student… I shouldn’t have focussed only on the hero courses; there’s usually a few kids from gen-ed who get bumped up to heroics by the end of the year.

The closest bathroom was jam-packed -- apparently, everyone else was taking advantage of the break before the main event. The same was true for the bathroom on the next floor down, and the next one. Izuku kept descending, looking for somewhere he could work in peace. Even an unlocked supply closet would be fine, but he didn’t see any of those.

Eventually, Izuku reached the bottom of the stadium, where he’d entered. He still didn’t have a place to work where nobody would see what he was doing. He did see another set of stairs, going even further under the seats.

Maybe there will be less people down there, Izuku thought as he walked down the new staircase.

He was right; there were significantly less people down there. The dark hallway would have looked abandoned if it wasn't so clean. It reminded Izuku of the setting in a horror game, where the player was led into a false sense of security before the monster popped up in a jumpscare. There wasn’t enough light for him to read his notes, but his phone had a flashlight and his laptop was fully charged.

Izuku turned a corner and sat on the floor, firing up his laptop and pulling out his notes. The light from the screen gave him just enough for him to make out his handwriting, but only when he tilted the notebook a certain way. He found the notes on 1-B as quickly as he could, but gave up after a while since he could get the same information on his computer anyway. He had a trojan horse installed on the school’s database, so it didn’t take much for him to hack into it again.

He was still shuffling through the information he needed -- Mind Control certainly explains how that one team was able to be in perfect sync -- when he heard a raised voice echoing along the hallway.

“You need to stop this childish rebellion! Use the quirk I gave you already!”

A much softer voice replied, but Izuku wasn’t able to catch what was said.

“Don’t you dare talk back to me, boy!”

That’s Endeavour, Izuku realised. He put away his laptop and stood up. What’s Endeavour doing yelling at someone at UA’s sport’s festival?

Izuku knew he should have just left. He had all the information he needed. Endeavour was a pro hero, and wouldn’t hesitate to arrest someone like Izuku, especially after the role he played in the USJ attack. It would be in his best interest to just leave and blend back in with the crowd.

Without even thinking about it, Izuku’s feet moved, taking him down the hall in the direction of Endeavour's booming voice.

“You are my successor, Shoto!” Endeavour said. “You were born with both powers in order to surpass All Might!”

“I will not be what you want me to be.” The softer voice replied.

Izuku peaked around the corner. Endevor’s back took up most of his view, but he could also see a familiar boy with two-toned hair.

Why is Endeavour shouting at his son Shoto?

“I am your father, and you will do what I tell you!” Endeavour shouted.

Shoto’s face was impassive, a stark contrast to his father’s emotional outbursts. “You’ve controlled everything in my life. How long I have to spend training, who I get to spend time with, even what I eat. My school and my career path were both decided for me, as your masterpiece. You may be able to control all of those things, but you don’t get to decide how I use my power. I will become a hero without using my fire, just to prove that I can.”

Endeavour stormed off, walking through a doorway behind Shoto. “You won’t make it that far. You need my fire, it’s the only way you'll surpass All Might.”

“I don’t care about surpassing All Might. I just want to get away from you.”

Endeavour continued to stomp off, leaving Shoto in the darkened hallway.

Izuku breathed a sigh of relief.

“Who’s there?”

Izuku’s breath caught. Did he hear me?

Shoto walked forward and turned the corner, staring at Izuku. “I don’t think anybody but the contestants are supposed to be here.”

“R-Realy?” Izuku laughed, feigning innocence. “I’m sorry, I just got lost looking for a bathroom…”

“It’s fine.” Shoto’s face remained impassive, not giving Izuku any hint as to whether he was suspicious of not.

Izuku tapped his fingertips together. Common sense said that he should leave well enough alone, but… “It sounds like you two were having an argument. Do you want to talk about it?”

Shoto turned away. “It’s nothing you need to concern yourself over.”

“Oh, okay.”

The hallway was silent for a few minutes, until Shoto spoke up. “I refuse to use my fire in battle. He doesn’t like that, since I’m supposed to be his successor.”

Izuku frowned. He had noticed that Shoto hadn’t used the fire half of his quirk in either the USJ or this Sport’s festival, but he hadn’t thought about it much. He figured it was because ice could be more versatile, it could contain a villain without much injury, or just personal preference in training. He didn’t realize it was a conscious, controversial decision. “Why don’t you want to use your fire?”

“It’s his quirk.”

So, is it some family trouble? Izuku wondered.

Shoto sighed. “I hate my father. He’s obsessed with surpassing All Might, but knows that’s not possible with his own limitations. So, he decided to train me to do it for him. He’s been training me with my quirk since I was four years old.”

Izuku sucked in his breath. Wow, I thought Endeavour was terrible for how he used excessive force on low-level villains, but this…

“Mom tried to protect me, but… It was too much. She hated him, hated being in that house, and eventually reached a breaking point.” Shoto touched his face, where an ugly, red scar marred his features. “She said my left side was unightly, that it reminded her of him, so she took the tea kettle and…” Shoto didn’t finish his sentence, but he didn’t have to.

Fuck. “Do you hate your mother, for doing that to you?”

Shoto stopped, contemplating Izuku’s question. “No, no I don’t think I do.” He sounded surprised, like he’d only just figured that out. “I understand that it wasn’t really her fault, that my father drove her to that point. Plus, she was always trying to protect me. I guess it’s not fair to hate her for one act of anger, especially compared to the years of abuse we’ve both suffered under my father.”

Izuku thought about the people in his own life. Sure, Tomura and Sensei both were cruel to him at times, but compared to the years of bullying he received from Kachan… It wasn’t that bad, right?

Right?

Well, at least he still had some good times with Tomura-nii, while he couldn’t remember why he put up with Kachan for so long anyway.

Stop thinking about that. “I’m really sorry all that happened to you. I can understand why you don’t want to use your fire, but are you sure you want to keep handicapping yourself?”

Shoto frowned. “What do you mean?”

“Well, most quirks dealing with extreme temperatures have a side effect on the user’s body temperature. I know that Endeavour gets overheated if he’s pushed too far, and I’ve noticed your body was accumulating ice during the last two events. I imagine that using both powers would allow you to keep your body temperature under control.”

“... You’re not wrong. That is the reason my father deliberately married a woman with an ice quirk.”

“Exactly!” Izuku nodded. “I know you hate your father, but I'm sure there are less self-destructive ways to get back at him.”

Shoto didn’t say anything.

“I’ll tell you what,” Izuku pulled out his phone. “How about we exchange numbers? I’d like to help you get away from your father, if I can.”

Shoto pulled out his own phone, firing off a string of digits Izuku added to his contacts under the name “Shoto Todoroki.” He then sent a text to his new contact.

Me: Hi! I’m Izuku Midoriya.

Me: Go ahead and add my contact info.

Shoto’s phone vibrated and he read the text. “So… Your name is Izuku?”

“Yep! Feel free to text me at any time. I’m homeschooled, so you don’t need to worry about interrupting me during class.”

Shoto nodded. “I’ll keep that in mind.” He pocketed the phone again. “I… Well, thank you for listening. It was nice to finally get that all off my chest.”

“Well, isn’t that what friends are for?”

“Friends…” Shoto frowned. “I wouldn’t know. I never got the chance to interact with kids my own age growing up… and I think most of my classmates are scared of me.”

There was a pang in Izuku’s chest. “I kind of get where you’re coming from. Until about a year ago, I hadn’t interacted with anyone other than the people in my house very much. It’s nice to have a friend on the outside.”

An announcement rang out through the stadium. Izuku couldn’t hear the exact words due to the echo, but he was sure the next event was about to start.

“Looks like I need to get to my seat if I want to see the action, and you need to ge ready for your fight.” Izuku started walking towards the lit doorway, but thought of something else he wanted to say.

He turned around, and although Shoto’s features were obscured by shadows, Izuku noticed how his body stiffened.

“By the way, would you do me a favor and kick Katsuki Bakugo's ass?” Izuku asked. “He doesn’t deserve to be a hero.”

Shoto walked forward. When the light reached his face, Izuku noticed how determined he was. “I’ll do that, so long as you promise to do everything in your power to help me get revenge on my father.” His eyes bore into Izuku’s own. “Including whatever you used to get into the USJ.”

Izuku froze. He recognized me!

Shoto was up the stairs and on his way to his classmates before Izuku could even think of stopping him.

Izuku took a deep breath. It’s fine. If he warns the heroes, I’ll just hide until I can go home.

Still, he couldn’t stop looking over his shoulder every other minute as he walked back to his nosebleed seats.

He continued to worry about who Shoto might tell. That is, until the Final Battle of the 1st year’s tournament, when Shoto Todoroki won 1st place by using a giant fire blast against Katsuki Bakugo.

----------

The 2nd years weren’t particularly impressive. Izuku took a few notes on how those students had developed since the year before, but otherwise considered the whole day a waste. He should have stayed at home and helped Uraraka train her quirk.

The 3rd years were also more of the same, with one key exception.

Mirio Togata.

Izuku already knew to keep an eye out for the big three thanks to web gossip. Tamaki Amajiki fell out of the running early on (Izuku suspected it was stage fright) and Nejire Hado exhausted herself in the first round of the tournament, but Mirio Togata continued to distinguish himself.

Izuku knew that Mirio participated in a work study that would have improved his fighting abilities, but to go through such a dramatic growth…

No, this isn’t natural. Something else is going on.

And so, Izuku watched Mirio closely. Marked his stats, his changes, his moves. Eventually it became clear that it was mostly Mirio’s physical strength that had improved so drastically. Sure, his technique and super moves had evolved, but it was his strength that gave him the edge in all these structured events.

During the final battle, Mirio didn’t even use his permutation quirk, just his fists. It was like watching a pro boxer or even…

All Might.

Izuku was watching every detail of Mirio’s fights, so he was probably the only person who picked up on the faded, yellow energy surrounding his entire body. It shone just a little bit brighter when he was about to attack, and followed him even as he perminated through things. I crackled like lightning, and appeared to be the source of this new strength.

During the final match of the tournament, Mirio’s opponent was almost able to push him out of bounds, but the yellow energy grew brighter than ever before, focusing around his arms. Mirio released the energy in a magnificent punch strong enough to not only send the other fighter out of bounds, but produce a wind blast that affected the entire stadium.

There is no way that was the result of normal strength training.

Izuku continued to analyze Mirio as he stepped off the stage, nursing a mysteriously broken arm. He noticed a spinely, blond man approached the boy and embraced him. It could be a congratulatory hug from a proud relative, but their features were too different to be a close relation.

Izuku taped his chin. What are you hiding, Mirio Togata?

------

Izuku locked himself in his room for three days following the sports festival. Both Kurogiri and Uraraka tried to drag him out to at least eat, but had to leave plates of food outside his door when he wouldn’t budge. Even Tomura was worried, from what Izuku could make out through his door.

Still, he didn't regret it. Izuku couldn’t handle distractions right now. He had some idea where he went wrong with the USJ incident -- essentially, underestimating the students because they were only first years -- but the mystery of Mirio Togata was the issue he spent most of his time on.

First he looked through the boy’s history -- every grade, every sports festival, every status update from his time at the Nighteye agency -- but couldn’t find any clues. He went through family history and their connections -- the blond man from the sports festival wasn’t anywhere close on the family tree -- but still came up with nothing. No predisposition to mutation quirks, no connections to questionable experiments, no support personnel who may have snuck something in.

It’s like Mirio Togata spontaneously developed another quirk.

Izuku was about to contact Sensei and ask if he’d given a UA student another quirk without telling anyone when he remembered there was another person capable of passing on a quirk.

Could it be…?

His research then pivoted from finding every detail about Mirio Togata’s life to uncovering a certain Pro Hero’s secrets. He found data on the number of incidents resolved by each hero per year. Most fans on the hero forums attributed the sudden data change six years ago to lack of media coverage, but Izuku knew better. He watched hundreds of amateur videos on a particular hero to compare the forces of a punch. He catalogued everything from more than six years ago to present day and looked for trends.

What he found was so obvious he should have noticed it a long time ago. He would have, if he hadn’t been deliberately avoiding the relevant information.

All Might’s time doing hero work had been steadily decreasing over the last five years, but his overall strength had remained the same until 10 months ago. Then, both his time as a hero and his overall strength started decreasing rapidly.

Combine that with what Izuku had noticed at the sports festival, as well as their mutual connection to the Nighteye agency, and there was only one conclusion to be made.

Izuku wrote it in his notebook, clear, bold letters describing a world-shattering truth:

Mirio Togata has inherited One For All from All Might.

Izuku leaned back and took a deep breath. All Might had passed on his power, and Mirio Togata would one day fight All For One.

I should tell Sensei. He needs to know.

Izuku knew this was true. If Sensei found out that Izuku had figured this out and didn’t share the information, he’d be mad. All For One had been gravely injured in his fight against the eighth user, so he needs to start preparing now if he has any hope of surviving the ninth.

But… For some reason, Izuku didn’t want to share this. It was a piece of information he’d slaved to uncover, and he didn’t want to give it up just yet. This information gave him a miniscule amount of power over All For One, and he wanted to savor it.

Or maybe it was something else.

Whatever the reason was, Izuku closed his notebook, put it up in his desk, and left to eat dinner with Uraraka, putting the new discovery out of his mind.

[ofwizardsandmen]

I like me better when I’m with you

Characters: Tara Lee, Mark Yang, Tyler Lee (briefly).

Word count: 3,9k

Genre: angst, fluff

OST: Ed Sheeran - Hearts Don't Break Round Here

A knock on the door interrupts Tara from staring soullessly at the screen of her laptop. It’s only been a couple of hours since she left the Yang Residence and yet she has completely lost track of time. She can’t remember how long she’s been sitting on her bed, wrapped in a duvet, but the memories of her conversation with Mark are all vague and hazy, like scenes from a Frank Capra film.

Yet, it is probably the hopeful melodies or the fact Julie Andrews’ sweet innocence in The Sound of Music always manages to put her in a good mood, but Tara almost feels like she’s been transported to some benevolent alternate universe where she’s just a regular Oxford student chilling at home on a summer night and procrastinating her summer school paper for Medieval Literature.

There are no boys.

No magic.

No famous ex-boyfriend or fake fiancé.

It is just Tara and her muggle musical.

“I’m fine, Ty” Tara whines as Captain von Trapp walks into Maria’s room and finds his children singing along My Favorite Things. “Go to sleep!”  Mentally cursing at her brother for disturbing her hardly-found peace of mind, Tara pulls the fluffy duvet tighter under her chin.

Another knock

Tara lets the duvet fall to her shoulders, feeling as though she doesn’t have the strength to deal with anything right now.

“Ty, seriously…” she utters wearily. “I want to be alone-”

“I’m coming in” A voice that definitely doesn’t belong to her brother announces.

A second later, the door gapes open and Tara’s ex-boyfriend walks in, closing the door behind him.

Mark’s presence catches Tara off guard. From all the people she could’ve expected to see, her ex looking aggravatingly good was definitely not on top of her list, so she nearly chokes in her inhale.

With her heart picking up, Tara pauses the movie and then holds on to the duvet tightly. Almost as if her life depended on it.

And yes. It is a life-threatening situation if you consider that Tara can’t imagine a greater humiliation than letting Mark see the sweatshirt she’s wearing beneath. It is one of the many clothes she had raid from his closet during her last visit to Seoul, claiming that she would use them whenever she missed him.

Why did she have to be so freaking ridiculous? That is beyond Tara understanding, but now, letting him see that goddammed sweatshirt on her would be yet another moral defeat on the same day. Not to mention it would be downright mortifying.  

“Hey” Mark stands at the door, his hands shoved in the pockets of his favorite bomber jacket as Tara holds on the duvet for dear life.

“What are you doing here?” She turns her head in the other direction as if her vanity was the most interesting piece of furniture she’s ever seen.

At her sour expression, Mark’s expression falls. For a split of a second he seems to be unable to form a coherent sentence or push himself to do anything at all, but eventually, he quietly steps towards Tara and without saying a single word he sits on the edge of the bed.

But Tara avoids his eyes. She can’t bring herself to look at him because his presence is suddenly reliving the embarrassment and humiliation she felt during their conversation earlier that day.

“I saw the album,” Mark says, his breath hitching as Tara blinks twice without really understanding what he means.  “Jae said it was a present from you”.

With the trauma of facing Mark, she has almost forgotten about his birthday gift. Of course, she now regrets spending so much time putting together a photo book with pictures of the two from childhood up to the months previous to their breakup. If she had known Mark was going to behave the way he did, Tara would’ve accepted Enzo’s invitation and instead of the comfort of her bed, she would be on a luxurious yacht sailing the Greek Islands. Or she would’ve asked Tyler to lock her in her room so there were no more chances to land on the cover of scandal-hungry tabloids and gossip sites. Yes, she likes the second idea better.

But no, against her better judgment, she went to visit her ex-boyfriend so he could shatter her pride in pieces and humiliate her.

“And I’m truly sorry”  Without another word, Mark reaches to pull Tara to his chest. Initially, he meets resistance from her part. She briefly struggles to free herself, but when her name escapes from Mark’s lips in a soft whisper that makes her feel a wonderful sense of loosening inside, she gives in with a sigh. Too exhausted and emotionally drained to fight him back, she also lets go of the duvet in favor of letting Mark wrap his arms around her.

“I’m so, so sorry, T” He repeats as his hands move to stroke her hair and pat her back gently, slightly desperate to show he how apologetic he truly is. “I am sorry”

There’s a brief moment of silence before Tara speaks,  her voice breathy with a contained chuckle.

“I know”

Mark is so thankful when she wraps her arms around him and buries her face against his chest that his heart races embarrassingly and his throat moves when he swallows. Yet, Tara seems unfazed, wrapped in her own thoughts and the scent of oolang and bergamot from Mark’s signature perfume combined with the faint smell of Febreze that Taeyong uses religiously in their clothes.

Mark smells like spring and his embrace makes Tara feel like home, so she stays that way for a few minutes, eyes closed, easily sinking into his arms and basking in the familiarity of it all.  It is just a simple hug, but it conveys their feelings with much greater clarity than words could have; it is almost a reminder of easier days when everything was less tangled and a simple hug could put everything back in its right place.

Now everything seems as it could be fine.

That is, of course, until she pulls away and notices Mark’s eyes brimming with tears.

It’s probably too soon to draw conclusions, but for some reason it makes Tara’s former optimism deflate.

Not like this is the first time Tara sees Mark cry. Oh no, she has seen him cry plenty of times before, although when she tells those stories to other people, they believe she’s making them up because Mark is a strong man by any standard and he has never shown any sign of weakness in front of anyone else. Particularly not in front of his bandmates or his fans.

People regard Mark as always cool and collected, that one person who always knows what to say and what people expect from him. He didn’t cry when his group reached the Nº1 spot for the first time in the South Korean charts, nor during his first concert or that time he injured himself in a rather foolish fashion and subsequently skipped a whole round of promotions with his group. If you were to ask anyone, Mark is described as a hardworking young man with a somewhat detached and serene outlook on life.

But that is Mark, the rapper of NCT. The Mark Yang sitting next to Tara cried when she went to Hogwarts for the first time and when their first bunny died. Mark cries over a sad movie plot and whenever he misses his family. The Mark Tara knows is anything but detached. He is loving and slightly clingy, although he always justifies himself claiming that he barely spends time with his loved ones.

That’s exactly why doubt wings through Tara when her eyes fix on Mark. Granted, her concern is slightly unreasonable given the circumstances and their unspoken reconciliation, but she knows him by heart and he looks merely appalled.

“What’s wrong?” She asks, eyeing him suspiciously

“Nothing” He musters dismissively. Tara doesn’t know he’s fighting hard to keep the tears at bay, but she can guess, by the way he bits on his lower lip, that there’s something he wants to tell her. And she simply expects the worst.

“Then what’s with that expression?” she says, forcing a soft laugh. “You look as though you’ve murdered someone.”

Mark doesn’t respond. There is silence and then a simple head motion

“I don’t know how bad this actually is or if Jane will be able to fix it before it goes out, but…” A frustrated breath slips from Mark’s lips and he moves to grab Tara’s hand “Earlier today I kinda told a reporter we had broken up.”

“What?” Tara’s eyes narrow in confusion.

“Listen T, I am really sorry, I just…” Mark runs his free hand through his hair “I got this question about you and the rumors and I-“ he tightens his grip on her hand “I just lost it. I saw that article on the news and I don’t know what got into me. Please, forgive me, I didn’t mean to-“

Amusement swirling in her chest, Tara doesn’t even attempt to hold in a laugh.

“Mark, people have been speculating about our break up for weeks and if they couldn't tell yet after the pictures of you and Mindy walking by the hand late at night” She said the last bit with the tiniest bit of accusation in her voice “They probably did after the headlines of this morning, so unless you had told them I cheated on you or that you hated me, I think we’ll be ok”  

“No, I would never” Mark says softly, once again wrapping himself around Tara “I only said that we broke up and I wished not to be asked any more questions about the topic”

“An answer straight from the idol book. Well done” Tara laughs, but still, that emotion written on Mark’s face —that she recognizes as guilt— doesn’t seem to go away.  “Oh, come on, Mark, change that expression! What’s wrong now?” Tara rolls her eyes, looking at him over her shoulder.

“I…” He falters “I also made you cry”

“When did you?” Tara asks, moving away from the hug and turning so they’re finally face to face. “I haven’t cried” She frowns, although her slightly puffed eyes aren’t painting the most convincing picture.

“Tyler told me” Mark smiles with a swift rise of his cheekbones. If Tara didn’t know him better she would assume that he is amused.

“Oh, don’t flatter yourself” Tara scoffs, but Mark is still smiling at her with a sort of smug twinkle in his eyes.

“I hate I made you cry, I really do.” He says solemnly “But the fact you did…” Mark finds the auspicious moment to caress Tara’s face with his thumbs, making her huff once she notices his cheeks going all squishy and his eyes crinkling in a smile.

She would definitely be offended if she didn’t know there’s no malice to it, just Mark’s attempts to lighten up the mood.

“I swear I will never make you cry again” He says, interlacing their hands “Please, don’t ever cry again” Mark places a gentle kiss on her cheek before adding “Plebeians like me don’t deserve the tears of a princess”

Tara cringes and laughs, smacking Mark’s arm softly

“That’s so cheesy” she complains, faking a retching noise. “Please never repeat that”

“Why?”  Mark catches Tara’s fist before it lands on his chest, pulling her towards him for the umpteenth time. It almost feels like he wants to make up for the lost time and Tara is not in a position to complain or criticize him because the longing is mutual so she only throws her arms around his neck, shaking her head. “Yo, it’s true though…” Mark says, his boyish manners coming out in full force when he speaks.

“That you’re cheesy?” Tara jokes.

“That I am a plebeian and you are a real princess… my princess”

“Ugh… cheesy” Tara’s face contorts into what could be disgust, but a split so second later she bursts out laughing. Mark chuckles too, but he becomes solemn as his hands slide under Tara’s —his— sweatshirt and his fingers glide up her sides until they reach for the curve of her waist.

“No, but seriously, T… I’m sorry” he repeats as Tara plays with his hair distractedly “I was rude to you and that was just off-limits. Nothing justifies the way I behaved.”

“True” Tara concedes with a nod and a small smile spreading on her face.

“You didn’t deserve any of that and I apologize for it”

“True again. You were acting stupid” She replies simply, looking away as she removes her hands from Mark’s neck, a noticeable frown on her face “But I guess I can take that apology”

A hearty laugh fills the room when Mark realizes Tara is just faking the angered expression and seconds later she ends up throwing him a poorly executed wink.

“Thank you, T” The guy’s amusement quickly vanishes, a warm feeling of elation coming over him. It is the kind of feeling that makes you believe an enormous burden has been lifted from your shoulders and you can finally be at peace.

He beams, his smile so bright that it almost makes Tara feel blinded by it. Then, a teasing glint fills his eyes “Though now that I remember, you did call me an idiot…” he dramatically places a hand over his heart “That hurt”

“Should I even be sorry? You were acting like one”  Tara states matter-of-factly. She raises a brow, trying to ignore the way Mark’s hands have returned to hold her at the waist pulling her closer.

“What?” Mark opens his mouth in an exaggerated fashion, pretending to take the offense.

“It’s true, you were acting like a di-” Tara stops midway, giggling as Mark tickles her sides. “Oh, come on!” Laughter escapes from her lips abundantly. “Mark... please…” She twists, fighting desperately to escape from his attack, but Mark continues to dig his fingertips on her sides, chuckling and occasionally letting out a full laugh.

“Please what?” He asks, watching amused how Tara tries to push him off with her knees.

“Stop!” She giggles “Please, Mark, stop!” She smacks his hands away when they reach her ribs and then places both her hands against his chest to stop him from ambushing her again “I’m sorry. Ok?” she says, catching her breath. “I’m sorry.”

“Are you serious?” Mark’s doe eyes flutter open as though he can’t believe his ears and Tara only nods, still focused on regulating her breathing pace.  “Oh T. Don’t be.” Mark places a hand over one of hers, squeezing it and pulling it to his lips to kiss it briefly “I actually deserved it because what you said back then was true. I was just trying to get back at you.”

“I know” Tara replies, wondering if Mark is aware of who he’s talking to. Of course she knew, even if he wasn’t fully aware back then, Tara knew. She always knows. “But that’s not what I’m sorry about. I also owe you an apology for the Mindy misunderstanding and the whole Darius scandal. Although it shouldn’t be a big deal, considering we had broken up, you still deserve to know nothing ever happened between him and I”

Mark blinks not fully sure of what to say next. He remains quiet, letting go of Tara’s hand but a grin —that he had dumbly tried to suppress— slowly makes its way onto his lips. Tara laughs because Mark, as always, is transparent as glass and the happiness that her statement causes him is not even close to been hidden.

“So you’re telling me nothing happened with the perfect Darius Black?” He questions skeptically, smug grin still plastered across his face.

“First of all wipe that grin off” Tara rolls eyes, her hand smacking Mark’s shoulder playfully “Don’t be such a smug jerk”  

Mark could be offended, but he ignores that last part on behalf of attending a more urgent matter, which is finding out what Tara has been up to since their breakup. It is a question that has been torturing him for weeks, so he jumps in as soon as the opportunity presents.

Of course, Mark is not generally the jealous or possessive type, but watching the pictures of —his— Tara walking by the arm of another man —a man who had always shown more than just a casual friendly interest in her— had awoken something inside him.

“So?” Mark begins to feel the worm of jealousy squirming in his guts as he imagines Darius' hands roaming Tara’s body, his lips pressing against hers, hot and urgent, an image practically etched in his mind since the morning when he saw that goddamned picture of them looking like lovebirds on the news. “Nothing?” He has no other choice but to pretend to be ok, so he lets out a sigh, easing his chest from that emotional hell.

“Nothing” Tara says, shaking her head from side to side. “I’m offended you even ask.”

“You are a beautiful woman, Tara” Mark ignores her weak attempt to hide the smile tugging at the corners of her lips. “Men hit on you all the time and that Darius is shamelessly obvious about want-“

“I know how to say no, Mark” Tara says seriously.

“Oh, so he did try to hit on you” Mark insists predictably, causing Tara to chuckle. “I knew he did. I mean, of course he would, you got all dressed up and looked so fine. He would’ve been stupid if he didn’t”

“Mark, seriously nothing happened” Tara interrupts, her voice a mixture of amusement and weariness. “He was just trying to be helpful” She speaks as though she is trying to explain a hypersensitive 4 year-old that 1 plus 1 equals 2, but Mark does nothing but to repeat her last word with a questioning eyebrow. It makes Tara aware of all the explaining left to do, but also gives her the urge of kissing away the furrow of his brows. “Listen” Tara swifts on the bed to reposition herself “I drank too much and he was just trying to keep me safe.” Tara admits, looking everywhere but at his face.

“What?” Mark’s voice suddenly goes harsh and Tara turns to find an unexpectedly tense-looking man staring at her. “Are you sure he didn’t try anything weird-?”

“No, he didn’t.” Tara places a hand on Mark’s thigh reassuringly, but can’t deny the odious thrill his protective side makes her feel. “Trust me, Mark. Enzo or Adela would’ve already killed him if he had”

“Ok” Mark’s face relaxes and he goes back to looking at Tara with the same smug grin from before and eyes alight with mischief “So?”

“So what?” Tara rolls eyes “What now?”

“So why did you reject him? Because I’m not gonna believe he didn’t ask you out” Mark speaks naturally, as though he had just formulated a question about something like the time or the weather. “As far as I know all your friends fawn over him and Jane keeps reminding me that he is one of the most eligible bachelors of... your world” He adds that last bit hesitant.

Tara makes a mental note to scold her friend later “He’s just not my type”

Mark huffs “Tall, blonde, green eyes and handsome is not your type?” He asks incredulously.

“Why are you being so annoying, Mark?” Tara moves until she’s leaning her back against the pillows and crosses her arms over her chest. “What do you want to hear? That I got drunk because I missed you and I already made out with most of Enzo’s friends at previous parties so I knew, as a matter of fact, I wasn’t going to get over you going out with someone else and acting like some immature teenager? Is that what you want to hear?”  Tara snaps, but surprisingly, her voice is warped and tiny, twisted beyond recognition.

For a second Tara holds her breath expecting Mark to snap back at her. She watches his body stiffen, his face tense up, his eyes looking away from her. Then silence overcomes the room and she mentally smacks herself for every single decision she’s made that day.

“Hey” Mark pushes Tara out of her self-chastisement moment offering a hand a pulling her closer. “I’m sorry. I was just joking” he says, arms wrapping around her tightly “I didn’t realize what you went through.” Tara opens her mouth to say something, but Mark shakes his head and goes on. “That picture on the news… oh, God, T. It’s been driving me insane. I never knew how scared of losing you I was until this morning and I don’t want to feel like this ever again-“ Tara’s hand on his chin, silences Mark and when he looks at her, he’s surprised to find Tara smirking at him.

“Shut up. You have nothing to worry about” she pretends to pick inexistent pieces of fuzz from his jacket. “You know why?” Mark only shakes his head, making Tara scoff at him “Because you are the only person I’ve ever loved.” She says simply. “And I only have eyes for you”

"Hmm" Mark stares at her thoughtfully, almost as though he has been left at a loss for words, but between the smile on his face and the greedy way his hands clutch around her waist, Tara knows he has plenty of words to say. “You know what I really think?" He asks.

"No, but I bet you're going to tell me"

"I think maybe you’ve figured out no one can top me" It is impossible for Mark not to burst into laughter right after pronouncing such cringe-worthy words, his cheeks going a light hue of pink.

“Shut up” Although the muscles of her leg refuse to kick him to shut him up, Tara pushes him slightly.

“I’m kidding” He smooths down Tara’s hair, “But here’s a fact” He looks at her adoringly, clutching onto her with force “I love you, Tara Lee.”

“I love you too” Tara places a hand around his neck “Only you, Markie”

The two exchange a moment as they look into each other’s eyes, none of them daring to move, afraid to ruin the perfect harmony they’ve fallen into. Until Mark decides to break the silence, looking extra worried.

“Did we just miss the perfect timing to kiss?” He asks, dipping his head down to murmur into Tara’s ear.

“I think so” Tara is moving to press her lips against Mark’s when the door flies open.

“Absolutely not under this roof” Tyler barks, eyes throwing daggers at her sister’s boyfriend. “What does make you think I will let you kiss my sister right after you made her cry?”

Mark pulls away from Tara’s arms with such urgency that he nearly falls off the bed. She could’ve found it funny if she wasn’t so busy glaring at her brother.

“Were you listening to our conversation?” Tara forces a laugh, free of any true amusement.  “Why are you acting like some creep?”

“Creep? I’m just protecting my little sister from-“ Tyler splutters, catching the way Tara is looking at him. “From some hormonal guy trying to take advantage of her”

“Just get out!” Tara reaches under her pillow for her wand and points it directly at her brother. There’s not even an ounce of hesitation in her eyes “I swear Tyler Lee…”

==============

“I’m sorry my brother is such a jerk” Tara says minutes later, apology evident on her face as she snuggles her head on Mark’s chest. They’re currently cuddling on his king-sized bed, surrounded by dozens of ridiculous pillows Mark has accumulated over the years. The Sound of Magic is playing on his state-of-the-art movie system; an unnecessary waste of money, as Jane had described it since he barely spent time in London, but one of the very few things Mark never hesitated to splurge on. After all, Tara liked watching movies and he enjoyed cuddling her on any normal day.

“You don’t have to apologize for that. He was actually kinda sweet earlier when he threatened to turn me into a toad if I didn’t go there and apologized to you” Tara gaps at that, looking at him with through slit eyes, so Mark is quick to add “which I was going to do anyway without angry brother involved. Well, Jae was already angry and involved, but you know what I mean...” He corrects himself, rambling about his older brother and patting Tara’s shoulder.

Both of them laugh at that, but then Mark sits up slightly and looks down at Tara.

“Speaking of what, Jason told me to look at the last picture in the album, but I forgot to. What’s so important about it?” Marks inquires, an eyebrow going up.

Tara’s eyes widen “You didn’t watch it yet?”

Mark shakes his head a “no”.

“You have to” She rolls eyes at him, moving to pause the movie just before Julie Andrews teaches the Von Trapp children how to “Do Re Mi”. “Now” She orders, pushing Mark off the bed.

Mark groans, but he ultimately gets up and crosses the room. Heis wearing plaid pajama bottoms, a white t-shirt, and rounded glasses.  He looks so soft, Tara wonders how she ever believed, even for a second, that he could do anything that hurt her.

“I can’t believe you didn’t see the picture” Tara clicks her tongue when he picks the photo album from the bookshelf. “I thought you went to see me after recalling the good old times”

Mark says nothing, he only shifts the pages as Tara comes behind him and wraps her arms around his chest, tiptoeing to rest her chin on his shoulder. When he reaches the end of the album, he finds himself laughing shakily and blinking rapidly.

“Yo, where did you find this?” He turns to see Tara smiling brightly. “I thought your mother- wow, T. I can’t believe-“ Mark rambles barely making sense. He can’t believe Tara had recovered the first-ever photo they had taken together. Particularly because they had been convinced Tara’s mother had gotten rid of it when she attempted to erase all of Tara’s childhood memories. “I-” Mark’s fingers run over the photo, memories of that day suddenly surfacing in his mind. The picture had been taken on a day trip to the local zoo when they were barely four. Tara is sitting on a bench kicking her legs in the air, dressed in a tomboyish outfit that contrasts with the girly bag hanging from her shoulder. At her left, Mark is holding her hand, standing next to a monkey cage. Under the picture, in neat capital letters in pink ink, Tara had written: “Forever yours”.

“Forever yours” Mark recalls those words. They were part of the confession he’d made on their first trip to the beach together. It was the summer before he moved to Seoul and the first time he saw Tara in 6 months. They had carved a huge heart into the sand and decorated it with shells and pebbles, embossing their initials in the center and promising to love each other for eternity.

Tara says nothing. She waits for Mark to make a move and predictably, seconds later he places his hand on each side of Tara’s arms, rubbing small circles. “I am forever yours” In normal circumstances, Tara would be ready to clown the cheesiness of his words, but she only giggles, wraps her arms around his waist and lets Mark press his lips against her own.

It’s like coming home.

***

[emaanali16-blog]

*Aristotle: Ethos and Pathos and Logos*

In this entry I will examine the critical questions: What is the main purpose of this artifacts message and how are ethos, pathos, and logos used in this rhetorical artifact to achieve this message? Is the way that these rhetorical appeals used ethical?

To investigate these questions, I examined Bill Clinton's speech “I Have Sinned” as my rhetorical artifact. Clinton’s “I Have Sinned” speech evokes feelings of forgiveness and compassion in his audience by using all three rhetorical appeals of ethos, pathos, and logos. He uses these rhetorical appeals in an unethical way since the majority of his speech focuses on religion and this can be seen as the end all be all of arguments.

On September 11, 1998, former United States President Bill Clinton spoke at the annual White House prayer breakfast to an audience of more than 100 religious leaders. The speech “I Have Sinned” is an apology to America for his affair with White House intern Monica Lewinsky. Clinton had testified in court for his actions on August 17, 1998 and gave a speech afterwards but was faced with criticism for not being contrite enough. The “I Have Sinned” speech was seen as a redemption opportunity for the former president.

James A. Herrick (2013) explains the three artistic proofs of rhetoric coined by Aristotle: ethos, pathos, and logos. Ethos refers to the credibility of the speaker and their ability to provide phronesis (intelligence), arete (virtue), and eunoia (good will) (Herric, 2013). Pathos according to Herrick, is the speaker's ability to make the audience feel an emotion in order to affect their judgement (Herrick, 2013). Lastly, logos refers to the logical reasoning found in arguments (Herrick, 2013). These three aspects are seen as the art of rhetoric and are proofs used to persuade people into believing certain ideologies which in turn should lead to a betterment of society. 

In the speech “I Have Sinned” by Bill Clinton, he uses these three artistic proofs to persuade his audience into forgiving him. He uses logos by using the logic of growing from one’s mistakes as a way to continue leading this country. Clinton remarks, “I cannot move beyond or forget this - indeed, I must always keep it as a caution light in my life - it is very important that our nation move forward” (President Bill Clinton, n.d.).  He uses the logic that even though something terrible has happened, it is important that everyone together as a nation moves forward to have a better future. Furthermore, Clinton creates a logical argument when he talks about what constitutes someone to be forgiven. He recognizes that to be forgiven, not only does it take sorrow, but it also takes genuine repentance and a “broken spirit”. He goes on to say that he will seek forgiveness by having a vigorous defense that will not hide the fact that he has done wrong, continuing to repent, and strengthening his efforts to make this country better. In saying this he creates a logical step by step process on what is needed to forgive a person and what actions he will take to get that forgiveness from the American people. The ethical issue here is that he should only be asking the audience to forgive him, not telling them to forgive him. When he tells them to move forward it seems like he is trying to brush this off as something that can be forgotten about quickly (President Bill Clinton, n.d.). 

Furthermore, Clinton uses ethos to reiterate his credibility. Even though the audience knows that this is the president giving the speech he still needs to remind the people that he is still a good leader. He chooses his words wisely, by saying “Hillary and the vice president and I” giving himself credibility by associating himself with prominent people. Also by saying, “in the hope that with a broken spirit and a still strong heart I can be used for the greater good,” Clinton shows that he will bring good to America. Lastly, throughout the speech he uses the words “we,” “us,” and “our” to show that he is included in the nation. For example, he never says, "this country" or "my country" he says, "our country." This is a great example of ethos in this speech since he is reminding the nation that he is a part of us, the American people, and that he is not going anywhere. The use of ethos in this instance is unethical because he is using his rhetoric to remind the audience that he has power, thus making it easier to forgive him (President Bill Clinton, n.d.). 

Pathos is found in multiple places in this speech. The first example we see is when he says, “I was up rather late last night thinking about and praying about what I ought to say today” (). Clinton tries to guilt his audience into feeling sorry for him since he did not get much sleep the night before.Moreover, this is his first mention of religious affairs. Throughout the speech his use of religious rhetoric enables the audience to identify with the religious beliefs he is referring to. When he later asks, “In this, I ask for your prayers and for your help in healing our nation” he is appealing to the people’s religious identity and asking them to use their emotions and belief in God to forgive him. Furthermore, not only does he appeals to the Christian audience, but also the Jewish by reciting an excerpt from Yom Kippur literature. Towards the end of his speech he remarks, “I ask once again to be able to love my neighbor - all my neighbors - as my self, to be an instrument of God's peace” (President Bill Clinton, n.d.). By focusing on religion in his speech, it is Clinton’s way of saying that since I have repented, God has forgiven me, and since almighty God has forgiven me then you can too. It doesn’t give the audience the option not to forgive him since they know God has forgiven him, and therefore the appeal is seen as unethical. 

Christopher Chapp (2012) goes into further detail on religious rhetoric and the effects on emotion, pathos. He says, “religious political rhetoric can overwhelm citizens with an array of different emotions, leading individuals to identify with a broad and varied range of groups and identities” (Chapp, 2012, p.17). He goes on to say that this type of rhetoric “is often associated by its glowing optimism about the future of America democracy… Given this, it is certainly possible that religious rhetoric is more conducive to a spirit hope than to political division” (Chapp, 2012, p. 61). We can see this in Clinton’s speech when he continuously ties in God and religion into his speech. His rhetoric is positive and hopeful that with God’s help people will forgive him and move on so that he can “lead our country and the world toward peace and freedom, prosperity and harmony…” (President Bill Clinton, n.d.). The religious rhetoric used by Clinton was manipulative because people who belong in faith groups associate God and their religion with positive and hopeful feelings thus associating their speaker in that same light. Audiences can be blindsided by religious rhetoric and must critically analyze whether or not the rhetoric being used is to persuade them into

In conclusion, Bill Clinton’s Speech “I Have Sinned” is unethical since he focuses on religion by using ethos, pathos, and logos to provoke feelings of sympathy and forgiveness towards him for having an affair. His logical arguments, use of power, and focus on religious beliefs were meant to get the public on his side, and for many people his speech did just that. However, in the end, Bill Clinton was impeached him for his actions. This goes to show that no matter how good your speech is, having an affair while being a United States President can have dire consequences.

References

Chapp, C. B. (2012). Religious Rhetoric and American Politics: The Endurance of Civil Religion In Electoral Campaigns. Ithaca: Cornell University Press.

Herrick, J. A. (2013). The History and Theory of Rhetoric: An Introduction (5th ed.). New York ; London: Routledge Taylor & Francis Group.

President Bill Clinton "I Have Sinned". (n.d.). Retrieved from http://www.historyplace.com/speeches/clinton-sin.htm

[hereliesbitches--me]

@quantahope liked for  a starter!

She checked the file again.   Once, twice. Three times to be sure.

To be certain of every detail. She wouldn’t make the same mistake again.  Mistakes cause accidents. Accidents caused lives. And she couldn’t afford to lose another.        It occurred to Rosie that she hadn’t checked twice the last time.              Perhaps if she had been more attentive, Rocky would still be alive.

She made a face at the thought. her lips pulling into a bitter frown as she stared at the compiled papers in her hands.    ‘ Ya makin’ dat face again, cat.’ Rosie didn’t have to look up to recognize the voice -- the accent -- nor did she want to; It wasn't real.                     He wasnt real.     ‘ Ya face gon’ get stuck like dat. don’ worry so much.’ His accent was a sound she took comfort in, once upon a time. It was home... blissful assurance of his presence. No more. Now it sends a cold chill down her spine, coiling dread in her gut like a heavy weight in her body. Instead, she focused her eyes on the papers in hand, narrowing upon the fine print til she drowned out all else. Anything that curved the urge to look at the murky cadaver that smiled next to her. Rosie occupied herself by tracing the printed words on the page, memorizing maps and directions until it became engraved into her brain. Her hands felt clammy, her cheeks growing hot despite the cool air that circulated about the jet cabin. It was only she and the Angels. They were real.         Her love had died months ago. And there was no changing that. Her grip tightened and crinkled the papers in her hold.   “Hey, Rosie, you okay?”     Amy brought her out of her thoughts with a gentle hand on her shoulder. By instinct, Rosie had flinched when she realized the physical sensation resting on her body, but her attention was drawn out nonetheless.  “I’m fine, just thinking.” Rosie answered curtly, with noted defense. She nudged off the hand briskly and took a short, haggard breath.   Things hadn’t been the same since their last mission. She hadn’t come back the same. Months of grieving and guilt, drowning her sorrows in a bottle had put her out of commission. Rosie hardly had enough energy to maintain herself, after everything was poured into holding herself together just enough for her kids. Her anxiety in returning to the project was no secret to her team.       But it was time to grow up,    she told herself bitterly, and willed herself back onto shaky feet.          This isn’t what he would have wanted.    “ Relax a bit. We have a few hours before we land, then you can go robotic leader overdrive. ”   The spy gave Rosie a knowing, sympathetic look, much to Rosie’s own annoyance. But Rosie knew she meant well. Amy gave a pat to her leg and smiled with a warmth in hopes of perhaps soothing their leader, “ Maybe take a nap. You look like you need the beauty sleep.”  To that, Rosie said nothing. She simply looked around the cabin at all her sleeping teammates.  The cadaver was gone. Perhaps she should get some sleep.. Even if she knew the awful things that awaited in her dreams.  She needed the energy.

     By the time they had landed, it was still early in the afternoon. Ironically, compared to the time they left, they were now an hour behind the time it would have been in New York City. Wisconsin was different from the concrete jungle they called home. It was Jacob, Amy, Fei, Lyak, Zoey, and Kasimir that Rosie had picked for this trip. Each bringing their own particular skill sets to the game which Rosie felt would best fit their investigation. Though, Rosie has a hard time imagining why they were needed when the city they were headed to seemed so small. She rather bring her heavy hitters, than be sorry for it later.       This was farming country. Small, close knit towns where everyone knew everyone. The worst things that happened here were drunks, cow tipping, and gun blazing idiots. Maybe aliens. But to need the Angels to come investigate? It was either Ed or the government that saw something to gain. Rosie minded herself to not be so careless about the situation. To underestimate could lead to dire consequences , and she was not ready to pay so heavily again.  They needed to get to their safehouse soon. To unpack and get planning. Rosie looked into her file one last time before the group gathered into the military truck, and then they were off.

   The drive was hardly maybe half an hour. The usual pairs talked, the usual few sat in silence, all while Rosie was left to her thoughts.  When they arrived, they poured out in a uniform line onto the watered green lawn they would call their own for the next few weeks until they solved the case. Rosie stood aside with her dufflebag as she watched the group take their belongings and quickly shuffle into the safe house. It was a nice, sizely two story home, surrounded by lots of crop fields.The nearest neighbors were a few miles away, which promised working in peace.  Their driver left them once all the gear was unloaded. He gave a stoic nod and a tip of his hat to Rosie, to which she nodded back, and then he drove away to leave her once again. For a few minutes she watched the dust cloud form behind the heavy vehicle, til it disappeared into a black speck over a hill. Once gone, she went back into the details of her file report expectantly, then raised her head to scan around her. In search of something that was suppose to be there, but was not. She frowned in a way that scrunched her face, then checked the digital watch on her wrist.     He’s late. Not good. 

    Punctuality was a peeve of hers.  He should have already been here. In her aggravation, Rosie looked to the paper again to see if perhaps her deprived mind had made a mistake,  despite herself. She checked the name, the meet time, and found things were as she planned. Things were not going according to plan.  Again, there came that nagging feeling that ached in her bones. Tilting her head back, she glared angrily into the sky with an angry groan. Setting her stuff down fully and pacing about the grass, she was just about to make a call when something caught her attention.  There came the crunching of gravel in the distance. 

It was an old pickup truck, whose driver she could not make out in the kicked up dust that came from the dirt road they drove on.     That must be him... The ache in her muscles quickly subsided as her body relaxed. Her face smoothed out with sweet relief.     Back on schedule.

Rosie made her way over at a leisure pace, waving her hand through the dust cloud and snorting to keep it out of her nose. She walked around the hood and made some attempt to make out the figure inside the car as she did, waving politely through the haze just as the engine cut off. The door opened, and out emerged a tall man. 

“ I was just about to complain that you were late.   You came just in the nick of time. I’m impressed. ”   Rosie opened the conversation playfully as she came around her meet him, her voice smooth and adjusted for civility and diplomacy. She made her space right up against the car door as the haze of smoke finally passed and drifted with the breeze, at last fully able to get a look at him, she offered her hand. 

   “ Are you our guide, Wendell?          My name is Rosie. ”

[win-bap]

Waft [Jongup] Part.2

Pairing: Female Reader X Jongup

Words count: 1961

Genre: Fluff

Not requested

I don’t own the gif

Part.1 / Part.3 / Part.4

Waking up before the sunrise to pack and prepare your camera set, you were in a hurry cause you wanted to film the whole sunrise at the beach.

You went out and it was still dark so you used your phone flash and started setting the tripod but you weren’t sure of the angle so you waited until the light showed on the sky then you adjusted the angle and sat down to watch the sunrise with another camera to take pictures of the beautiful sunrise in a full quietness without anybody near, you felt calm and satisfied that you decided to travel to this island alone and relaxing here.

The sun fully rose so you took a deep breath with a smile and started to pack everything again to return them to your room. You were starving so you headed to the restaurant after you returned everything, you were looking around hoping to see Jongup somewhere and you really found him on the same table you were sitting on last night, which is near to the window, you smiled brightly when you saw him gazing at the beach as if he was waiting for someone, he looked peaceful and admirable so you didn’t hesitate to take a picture of him.

“Good morning” you approached him with a smile

“Good morning“ he smiled cutely and gave you a sign “Please sit”

“Did you eat your breakfast?” you asked as you sat

“No, I was waiting for you” he rested his cheeks on his palm and looked at your eyes directly and his smile still on.

“Oh really?” you lowered your head as your cheeks getting blushed

“Yes, I was watching you taking pictures of the sunrise at the beach” his smile widened.

“You were watching me all the time?!” your eyes widened and your voice got louder.

“I just came here when you were already at the beach and I decided to wait for you so we can have breakfast together” he chuckled

“Thank you” you didn’t know what to say but you were truly touched.

“Shall we go and check the buffet?” he asked after he watched your cute reaction carefully.

“Yes let’s go”

You had a long enjoyable chat and after you finished your breakfast he asked you: “What’s your plan for today?”

“I want to go around the island and take pictures but I don’t know where to go”  you giggled

“Then you can come with me if you want, my friend suggested a place to shoot for our brand, he says it’s a really beautiful place”

“Cool! Then let’s go” you were happy to go with him and that he invited you.

Since the island was a small one you walked to your destination and you were listening to him talking about his brand and how everything started with his friends, you enjoyed every word he said and you didn’t notice that you arrived your destination.

“And here we are” he said

“Oh already?” you looked around you, you saw one of the most beautiful scenes you’ve ever seen in your life, the greens everywhere and some trees with pretty flowers and the birds singing but the most thing that impressed you, was the sky and the sea, the clouds were covering the sun every now and then and you can see the blue sky through the clouds, you couldn’t describe how much that scene was perfect so you only stood there admiring the sky.

“Never saw something more beautiful” Jongup said and that made you look at him with your sparkling eyes

“Yes it’s magnificent!” you nodded in excitement, which made him chuckle

“What do you think of shooting here, isn’t a perfect place?” he asked you as he walks around to examine the place.

“No doubt but its depend on your collection” you were already taking pictures without stopping even for a single minute.

“That’s right, I didn’t think about it. So can I show you our collection style?” the way he’s asking you were so cute so you smiled widely and said: “Of course!”

He showed you some of his new collection while you both sat on the grass deciding together about everything and how’s the concept of the shooting gonna be, he was overexcited to tell you about all his ideas and how you agreed on his ideas with new ideas that made him amazed.

You were going back to your resort and suddenly you both went silent

“Thank you, Y/N. I’m really grateful to meet you and to be supported by you” he stopped and looked at your eyes directly and held your hand.

“I’m glad that I was able to help you” you lowered your head in embarrassment.

“You’re so beautiful Y/N, when you take pictures with your camera you seem happy and your smile after you take a good shoot is the prettiest. I really wanted to tell you that you inspired me” he blushed and covered his face a little with his free hand but his eyes were still on you.

“I d-don’t know wha-t to say” you blushed until your face became red.

He chuckled and pat your head “Let’s go back”

Your was heart racing and you couldn’t look at him on the eyes plus your voice faded for a moment so you remained silent all the way back.

When you got back to the resort you both waved goodbye but before you walk away he grabbed your hand

“What’s your room number?” he smiled that cute smile which makes your heart flutter

“209″ you were blushing again and you wanted to punch yourself for blushing every second

“See you later” with that he was no longer in front of you so you headed back to your room and you placed your hand on your cheek to feel if it was warm since you were blushing and it really was.

You took a hot shower and slept deeply cause you were really tired of walking, you wanted to sleep for two hours to eat the dinner.

The sound of the telephone ringing, woke you up to answer with your sleepy voice.

"Hello?"

"Oh sorry did I woke you up?" You can definitely recognize his voice and you were sure that it was Jongup.

You sat and adjust yourself then you answered him after you cleared your throat: “No it’s ok I’m awake”

You heard him chuckle before he says: “That’s good, then can you open the door?”

“Okay” you walked toward the door and open it, you saw a serving trolley and you looked to see who brought it cause you didn’t order anything but the butler talked before you can ask “Mr. Jongup ordered me to brought it to your room. Can I come in ma'am?” you just nodded trying to understand what’s going on.

“Is he coming?” you asked but the butler was no longer there.

You ran to the telephone “Hello?” but the line was cut, you got confused so you dressed up and waited for him to call you or anything but after 5 mins you heard someone knocking the door so you opened the door immediately and there it was Jongup.

“Can I join you for the dinner, ma’am?” he smirked

“Of course Mr. Jongup” you chuckled and opened the door widely so he can get in.

“I’m sorry again for waking you up”

“I have to thank you for waking me up cause I should’ve woke up earlier” you chuckled and you both sat on the sofa.

“Are you hungry?”

“Yes I’m starving”

“Shall we eat?” he smiled cutely and you nodded with a smile.

You both start eating then he asked you if he can see the pictures you took today and you agreed.

His eyes sparkled with every picture he sees and he kept compliment you, then he saw the picture you took of him in the morning, you take a look to see what’s the picture that made him smile so beautiful and once you saw it, you blushed.

“Ever since I saw you taking pictures for the first time I thought if you can shoot for my brand? Cause I really like your pictures, they’re so beautiful!” he was excited

“Of course” You were happy that he complimented your pictures and all of that but you were disappointed because you thought he just wanted you to help him and there’re no special feelings so maybe you got it wrong when he said that you’re beautiful.

“Really?! I’m glad that we’re gonna work together” he held your hand tightly from his enjoyment, your heart skipped a beat so you looked aside to avoid his eyes.

“Sorry, did that make you uncomfortable?” he looked worried

“No, it’s ok” you faked a smile

“I will call them to take the trolley and I should go now” he said as he stands up but you grabbed his hand

“Don’t go” you looked at him in the eye and your expression was enough to let him know what you were thinking about but then you realized what you just said so you said: “Oh you must be tired so you should go an-” he cut you

“I want to stay and have a drink with you, can I?” he looked like an adorable puppy

“Why are you asking? I told you don’t go earlier” you giggled.

He called the room service to take the trolley and to bring some wine.

“So when we’re going to shoot for your brand?”

“The next week because there’s something I have to do before shooting”

“I see, so you choose the models?”

“Yes, everything is already prepared and now we have a great camera woman”

Someone knocked on the door and that means the wine is here, Jongup opened the door and the butler got in with another trolley but this time it’s full of all kind of wines.

Jongup poured two glasses of wine and sat beside you after he handed you one of the glasses.

“It’s been a while since the last time I drunk some wine” he said after he took a sip and it was obvious that he’s satisfied

“Yes and it’s so tasty” you agreed

“Should we play some music in the background?” he suggested

“It’s a great idea!”

“Let me show you my favorite list” he smiled like a little child in excitement and got closer to you so you can see his playlist and then when you saw Ed Sheeran song “Castle On The Hill” you said: “Oh I love this song”

“Yes it gives me a beautiful feeling, I don’t know how to describe it” you nodded with a smile and said “I know what you mean”

He played the song so you started singing and he joined you as you both looking at each other and smiling widely though you know your singing is not that good but you were happy and who cares.

He looked at your happy form and his heart was falling, falling for you. His hand was on yours as he gets closer to you the next song played and it was “Perfect” at the perfect moment, his other hand was placed on your cheek and his face was inches away from yours, your heart was beating fast and your face became warmer, he smiled while his eyes locked on yours, you were smiling but the next moment your eyes were closed and your lips met to kiss each other.

A/N: It may become 4 parts, I’m not sure yet

This the 100th post!! Yay!