#he deserves companionship and love (all forms) and to be valued!!!

[rollercoasterofshitposts]

spoilers below the cut

was the ending beautiful and showed off all of Loki’s character development? yes.

do I love me some good groundhog day style time jumps? yes.

was I satisfied with the fact that every single character got what they wanted except Loki and Mobius? Absolutely not, you have the wrong person.

[rainstormcolors]

@narikox: “do you think that seto was trying to please Gozaburo because he wanted to receive love from him?”

These are just my own thoughts on this. Others may read into canon differently. I know I like looking over other fans' ideas and considering varied readings and weighing possibilities.

I feel like young Seto couldn’t fully understand what he wanted from Gozaburo --- and if I’m honest, I don’t believe Seto will ever fully understand what he wanted from Gozaburo. I think it’s something that will always be cloudy to him, even if he can come to a point of understanding his own desires for connection. I feel Seto sought Gozaburo out in aspiration of being adopted by him because Seto wanted to become strong and he felt he didn’t want a loving family --- he was a grieving child who was also abandoned by his remaining family, thus I don’t feel he was well-minded and I don’t feel he was seeking warmth and sweetness out of Kaiba Corporation’s CEO Gozaburo Kaiba. He was probably bitter and felt lost.

I think a little of the movie Ringing Bell (1978), where a young lamb’s mother is killed by a wolf and the lamb goes to the wolf, asks to be raised into a killer by the wolf so he’ll never be weak again, and then the grown ram he becomes kills the wolf. But then the ram no longer fits in with the gentle herd. He seems changed into something else.

But Seto’s heart has always been more complicated than he’d like.

I think he admired aspects of Gozaburo even as Seto felt fueled to defeat Gozaburo, even as Gozaburo hurt him and twisted him up more and more. I think there were forms of idealization going in both directions --- Gozaburo wanted to raise a prized heir to carry his company and name onwards to greater heights and Seto saw a strong pillar of a man who couldn’t be crushed by the world. It was a “shared fantasy” I suppose, which is a phenomena in some abusive relationships that builds trauma bonds. “I hate you but I want to impress you. I hate you but you have things I admire in you despite that.” And Gozaburo was the companionship Seto had, as malignant as it was. Was Seto Gozaburo’s companion too? Does Seto want to think about that at all? I think it would become easier for Seto to focus on his feelings of hatred and to come to accept his experience as having been abused only after Gozaburo’s death and only after time to reflect, when the chance of impressing him is gone forever, when the glimmers Seto admired are gone forever and only the damage Gozaburo inflicted on him is left. Hatred is something at least. Underneath that, Seto might be afraid he has nothing inside himself.

Seto did hold onto the values Gozaburo “gave” to him --- seek power, be fueled by anger, losing deserves death, all conflict is a kind of war, and then Seto explicitly labels Gozaburo as a goal to surpass during Battle City.

Did Seto want love from Gozaburo? Was the way he tried to hurt Gozaburo back and “speak his language” and tell him “look what I learned from you” a kind of attempt to show love to Gozaburo as much as it was a knife plunged into him? Gozaburo spoke in the language of hurting him, so hurt Gozaburo back to tell him how much this means? Gozaburo wanted a ruthless heir and Seto became his ruthless heir. “I’ve become what you wanted.”

The ending to the movie Whiplash (2014) also comes to mind as something Seto may have been wishing for in his heart, even as he resents it. The abuser you admire and who has kept hurting you finally impressed by you and joining you, even as pieces of yourself have broken off.

I don’t doubt Seto fiercely hated Gozaburo, that he might’ve imagined smashing Gozaburo’s face in with a baseball bat in his sleep, but it’s more layered than simple hatred. That’s the other edge in Gozaburo’s suicide. “Didn’t I want you to die? Did you plan this all along? Did we both want this?” All the things Gozaburo never told him, never will tell him. Gozaburo as a human being who could die, who wanted to die. I think Seto might’ve flung into wild emotional spirals and flatlined to numbness, back and forth, in the wake of that --- and Death-T was perhaps partially a manifestation of that: a desire for destruction, a desire to live and die maybe. A new vicious opponent. Anything but the void inside himself.

I can understand why Seto doesn’t want to consciously think about these things in canon.

[ilex-opacus]

Erwin Smith is a cat person AND HERE’S WHY!!

jk i think him being a dog OR cat person is believable but I saw someone say him being a cat person after all would be a funny twist and then I realised how much sense it made.

Most people expect Erwin to be a dog person.You know – dogs are loyal, willing, can be easily trained to do X in promise of Y. They can be trained so well, in fact, that you don’t even need to give them a reward - their faith in you is that innate and complete that they will fetch or roll over or indeed lie down even if all you offer them afterwards is a cursory “well done, good job, smart boy.” And while Erwin admits that dogs would indeed, out of the choice between them and their feline counterparts, make better soldiers, it is foolish to think that what he values in his men is what he values in his personal companionships as well. And while dogs can be used for labour, they are - like cats - primarily for companionship. Erwin has always struggled to be close to his men precisely because they are so loyal, blindly and self-flaggelisingly so. They would do anything he asked, some of them, and these men make the best soldiers and the worst friends, because they fill him with a deep sense of guilt and remorse at having to demand such loyalty from them in the first place.

Cats, he finds, are much nicer creatures when friendship is the game. 

Cats are not like dogs. They are cold, aloof, unfriendly, and smart. They never trust you, merely tolerate you, and they are impossible to trick or fool. They switch their mood as easily as the wind turns, and even if you treat them nicely they are not guaranteed to even pass gas in your undeserving direction. To put it simply, befriending a cat is a challenge, a task, a mission that requires skill, understanding, and patience. Erwin has always been told to know his enemy, and the same is true with cats.

But cats present a worthwhile reward, if you can manage to commit yourself to the time-consuming, intellectual task of taming them. Where dogs are stupid and overbearing in their affection - which, albeit admittedly nice, can feel overwhelming and ill-deserved at times - cats are conservative with such pleasantries. And so, when they finally deign to butt the side of your leg with their furry little heads or mewl endearingly as they trot up to you, it feels like a real victory, it feels like something you unequivocally deserve. And if Erwin needs anything, it is the type of love he feels as if he actually deserves. Not love that is won from simply being the bigger and smarter life form, but love that is won through being good to those below you, from understanding their wants and needs and not needing to have them sit subservient beneath you and awaiting your orders.

Cats are quieter, too. Stiller things. Dogs are loud, always barking like they’ve had to suddenly scream out a battle plan, always moving and jumping in circles like they’re nervous or preparing to flee. But cats move with a slow grace, an unbothered laxness; a cat does not know, care, or act as if they are in a war. A cat is greater than that - supersedes such petty mortal happenings. A cat can’t sniff for bombs or point to alert you to a fallen soldier’s position on the field, because cats represent something greater than conflict. Cats were only ever partially domesticated, never brought fully into the human way of life. They are transient, they are beings of luxury and calmness and independence. Maybe, Erwin thinks, if the world were comprised more of cats - solitary, intelligent, wary - and less of dogs - obedient, unthinking, impulsive - there would be no need for wars to begin with. And yet that is not how things have turned out. The world is a catastrophic mix of cats and dogs, and we get on with each other just as well. In truth, though, the world is made up entirely of humans, and we are the cause of our own pain.

But Erwin likes cats. He likes the small, happy noises they make and the deep, constant, reassuring rumble of them purring contentedly against his chest. He likes how they can be relied upon to find their own food and water, how they do not look up to him as someone who should, and unfailingly will, provide. They are more his equal than some humans are, and he tries very hard (and subsequently fails) not to feel guilty about that. In the meantime, he scratches between their ears and watches those sly, sharp eyes glinting from amidst the small mass of black fur. It reminds him of someone, and he thinks that also plays quite a large part in why he likes them best.

[the1975attheirverybest]

hes just being messy, he was with meredith in la last wednesday and then now is like very public with gab. i actually feel pretty bad for meredith, the unfollow makes me think she thought they were more serious than they were. i dont think dating casually is a crime but all parties should at least be on the same page 😕 (no need to post this just telling you)

I’m very confused by all this and I guess y’all really don’t understand boundaries, respect, or consent. But since I’ve deleted just about 40 asks about this in the past 48 hours or so, fine. I guess we are talking about this. (Not directed at you alone or anything just my general feelings on the subject and on the fandom.) you wanna talk about Matty’s love life? Let’s talk about it.

Matty is 34 years old. Which means he’s well above the legal age of consent and, yeah, god help him, as a cis straight man, he do be acting like an absolute child sometimes, BUT it’s his life. His decisions to make.

From everything that we know about him, and especially after the ENTIRE FUCKIN WORLD turned against him over the summer, he is a lot more kind, compassionate, smart, self-aware, gentle, and pure-hearted than anyone’s ever given him credit for. Even his own fans. Say what you will about Matty Healy, but if it were me, in his shoes, I’d feel more than entitled to be Turner bitter towards the public what with the way we all (yes, we, as his fans too) have been treating him. But NOPE. Matty is a way bigger person than most of us. He didn’t say a damn thing. He kept his mouth shut and his head down and he did what he needed to do, he never let any of it deter him from being vulnerable and honest with us and putting on the best fuckin show that he could possible put on every fuckin night.

If that doesn’t earn him the benefit of the doubt then I don’t know what will.

I’m not sure why or when some of us have decided that it is our place to observe what goes on in his love life, to monitor his following/followers lists, to draw conclusions based on those numbers, or to consume public glimpses of his interior life as if it’s some tv show or movie or reality tv, even when those images are taken without his consent, and decide Meredith is not “marriage material” or Gabriette has “an aesthetic that I can finally get behind” (which, by the way, is a very sexist and disgusting thing to say about them as well as Matty, but I guess this fandom is hypocritical and will turn against its own values as soon as Matty Healy’s dick is involved), but at some point apparently that happened and we started to treat him as less than human.

Fine, fine, I’ll even give you that much. Be sexist. Be judgmental and creepy and all up his ass. But to do all that and then “feel sorry for Meredith” call him a “mess”??? When you LITERALLY HAVE NO IDEA WHAT THE FUCK HAPPENED BETWEEN THEM?!!!!! How do know she thought it was more serious than it is??? Were you there??? Since we’re making judgements and assumptions based on the tiny fragments that we see, I’m gonna go ahead and make a judgment of my own and say since I didn’t see you in the middle holding one of his hands and one of hers, then you weren’t there. So why do you feel qualified to talk about what he may or may not have done??? Do you know him? Is he your bestie???? Did he confide in you??? Hmm? Fuckin tell me!!!!

To summarize: he’s a form of entertainment to you. You don’t care about his boundaries. And you have such a low opinion of him that (despite him proving in what is objectively one of the worst things to happen to a public figure, that he’s endlessly graceful and kind) you will comfortably assume the worst of him without A SHRED OF ANYTHING REMOTELY RESEMBLING EVIDENCE. So….why are you a fan? Hmm? Why do you feel comfortable supporting someone you think so little or and have no respect for as a human being?

If any of you really think “he deserve love” and “he deserves companionship.” Then you’d shut the fuck up, stop engaging with content that commodities and dehumanizes him, and mind your fuckin business for fucks sakes.

I mean, how would you like it if, based on a 7 second story on Instagram, or a tweet you made about your personal life or whatever, I (somehow who knows absolutely nothing about you) came up to you and was like “omg I noticed so and so has unfollowed you. Then two days later you posted a pic with this other person. You must have really crushed someone’s heart and led them on making them believe you were more serious than you actually were. And now you’re using this other person who appeared in a picture with you. That is concerning behavior my friend.” If you’re okay with me doing that to you then you and I must live wildly different realities.

[woulddieforloki]

Most Sylki fans I met insult Loki and call him fascist but ship them together anyway. Sylvie values freedom and she shouldn't be in relationship with someone like that.

I can't speak for all Sylki fans because I haven't spoken to every Sylki fan, but I'm very interested in which Sylki fans you're meeting, because Loki isn't a fascist. that just? doesn't really make sense? He Who Remains is a fascist. the Time Variance Authority is a fascist organization. I think that's the general consensus among a lot of Sylki fans, and maybe that's where you're getting confused, because Loki did try work with the TVA and he did try to save HWR's life, but he was against everything they stood for. Sylvie was actively fighting the fascist organization far more than Loki was, but that I don't think many people would argue that it makes Loki himself a fascist. It might mean Loki was on the wrong side of things — that depends on who you ask — but Loki was against the TVA's authoritarian regime; he just didn't want cause a multiversal war.

I think there are two main reasons you'll find Sylki fans insulting Loki. The first one is that he's a flawed person, and that's what makes him an interesting character. Some people do try to rationalize everything he's done to paint him in a good light and to act like he's the most selfless person to ever exist, but I personally think it's far more interesting to look at him as a deeply flawed individual who's made mistakes and done bad things for bad reasons, but that he's far more complicated than just "he's a perfect little angel uwu" or "he's pure evil and loves destruction and chaos and death."

And the other main reason you'll see people insult Loki is to strike back at the people insulting Sylvie. The same people who try to defend Loki's every action are often the ones who point out any possible flaw they can find in Sylvie to convince themselves and other antis that he's a perfect little cinnamon roll and that she's a horrible person who deserves nothing but the worst. Sylki fans sometimes like to turn the tables on that. A lot of times, when Sylki fans are elevating Sylvie and talking about Loki's flaws, it's in direct response to that kind of hypocrisy from the antis. We're saying "no, you're wrong about Sylvie; she's better than that," and we're also saying "no, you're wrong about Loki, he's not that perfect." But I don't think there are a lot of Sylki fans out there — and, again, I could be wrong; this is just what I feel like I've seen from the Sylki fans I know, but there are a lot more out there that I've never met — who think that Sylvie is just so much better than Loki. To steal a quote from Supernatural because I'm a cringe individual, they're just two people trying to do their best in a world where it's far too easy to do their worst.

And I think you're kind of twisting Sylvie's goal there at the end of your ask. Sylvie values freedom from the TVA. She wants to be free from the fascist organization that's been tracking her down her whole life; that killed her family and destroyed her world; that's forced her to live her life in the midst of literal apocalypses. But she's also incredibly lonely. She's like a feral cat in a way. She hasn't really been socialized because just talking to people could put her on the TVA's radar. And she thinks for the longest time that she wants to be alone, because that's all she's ever known, but the truth is that she longs for comfort and for companionship. I don't think it's ever more obvious than when she's talking to Loki on the train that she likes people and that she wishes she had her own special someone in whatever form that takes: a boyfriend or girlfriend, a best friend, a mother, the postman, whatever. But she doesn't. And she can't. And it takes her time to admit to herself that she can, that Loki's in the same situation that she is and that she can have him, and that's why it's so heartbreaking to her that they don't feel the same way in the citadel. She'd thought she found someone to see this through to the end with, and someone to spend her life with after, and she didn't.

[utakoi]

!! 18+ ONLY !! MINORS DO NOT INTERACT !!

Warnings: mentions of abduction, yandere themes

Death - Would this yandere ever kill their darling? If not, would this yandere “kill” undesirable traits of their darling?

Whether it be during his pre-redemption arc or post-redemption arc, I don’t think Enji would ever purposefully kill his darling. His darling would still be an innocent civilian, so I doubt Enji’s hero instincts and morals would allow him to stoop so low.

Pre-redemption arc Enji isn’t above “killing” undesirable traits, however. I mean, we all saw how he treated his family during his pursuit of number 1; Enji will absolutely train you to be his ideal darling. I think he still has a sort of love or attraction towards you just being you, but… well… you can be better.

For example, I can imagine him training you like hell to fit his daily routine. He wants you to wake up early and make him breakfast, give him a goodbye kiss before he goes to work, clean the house while he’s gone, and so on and forth.

Now let’s say you make a mistake. Maybe the food you made was a tad bit salty or perhaps you missed a spot while cleaning the floors… No matter how miniscule the mistake is, you’ll be punished terribly. Sometimes, the sheer humiliation his punishments cause may even be less appealing than the raw pain they inflict. Your throat will be dry and scratchy from screaming or begging for him to stop by the end of it.

Oh, and don’t expect him to take mercy on you afterwards. You’ll still have to perfectly commit to the daily routine he taught you, even if you have to crawl to do your house spouse duties.

The Hierophant - Could this darling’s yandere fool them easily? Or be manipulated by them?

Nope. Though Hawks would think otherwise (lol), Enji’s pretty sharp. It would take a long time for him to actually believe your act, likely years down the line.

I think this is even more applicable to post-redemption Enji. He constantly wonders if he’s deserving of your love after the shit he’s done to both his family and you, so he’ll be all the more hesitant in trusting your affections, especially if it’s only a few weeks into your captivity. If you can manage to keep up your lovey-dovey facade for a few years, then you have a chance of fooling him; that is, if you haven’t already fallen into the clutches of stockholm syndrome.

Wheel of Fortune - Would this yandere’s behavior stay the same over time? If not, why do they remain the same?

Since he literally has an entire arc dedicated to him realizing how much shit he put his family through and trying to reconnect with them, the answer to this question has to be a hard no. Going from pre-redemption Enji to post-redemption Enji would throw you for a goddamn loop. This is more explored in a fic I mentioned working on, Little by Little, but Enji basically goes from an asshole who trains his darling until they're "perfect" to a reformed man who sincerely wants to reverse the damage he’s done. He tries to be a lot more empathetic and does his damn best to show his remorse through his actions rather than just his words.

I guess something that wouldn’t change is his refusal to let you go. It might be because he thinks you can no longer survive in society, or perhaps he's desperate for a form of companionship after he fucked up his relationship with his own family… or maybe he actually loves you. Well, the reason isn’t really important anyway; no matter what, you’ll be by his side and he'll be by yours.

The Moon - Is this yandere sensitive to what their darling says or does? If not, why don’t they care?

Pre-redemption Enji doesn’t care. He doesn't value you much, which in turn means that he doesn't really care about what you say. You can call him a bastard or whatever, but he doesn’t really take it to heart or listen. If you do say something that upsets him or what he deems as "misbehavior", he’ll just punish you until he’s sure that you’ve learned your lesson.

Post-redemption Enji is on the opposite scale of pre-redemption Enji. If anything, he’s hyper-sensitive. You’ll probably be really uncomfortable because of how focused his gaze is on you whenever you’re in the same room together. He’s really just wanting to find any signs of you being less afraid of him, but it doesn’t really help when you interpret the actions as him glaring daggers at you. Your insults also cut really deep. They’ll make him think about whether or not he’s actually changed for the better. If you seem to accept him and recognize his change, he'll be happy, but he won't bask in it for long since he'll still have the nagging voice of self-doubt in his head.

Tarot Ask Game (Sorry for replying to your ask late! @implexedactions)

[saphirered]

Lovely Caleb fic! Could I get a confession of love fix that involved Caleb kissing the hands of a bewildered reader?

Thank you for the request! I hope this is to your liking!

It’s rather late. Well, you think it is. It’s kind of difficult to tell in Rosohna’s eternal darkness. At least you were sure it’s been a long day. You find yourself wandering the halls of the Xhorhaus. The last few months have been crazy, hectic and you’d have to admit your life has been turned upside down but you wouldn’t change if for the world. You found friends, family even. Reminiscing you find your mind gravitate towards fond memories of your favourite wizard. Dragging him along on a little shopping spree for spell components, the excited rants he goes on when you ask for his advise on this new spell you found, the talks about nothing when you shared a watch, holding his hand while Yasha shaved his beard with her sword, giggling about a little prank you played on a very grumpy looking halfling shopkeeper in Zadash, drunken nights sharing a bottle after a successful job completed, him falling asleep with his head on your shoulder, caring for each other’s injuries, the rare dance in the tavern…

Not as insightful as Caduceus may be but you weren’t blind either. It’s clear Caleb seems more comfortable around you than anyone save for Nott maybe, a different kind of comfort still. You’ve been consciously picking up on a shift in his behaviour for a while now. Your favorite wizard has been getting closer and more affectionate towards you but you’ve known him for a while now and you can’t help but pick up on this. His recent shift in behavior gave you butterflies in your stomach, something more than friendship but you didn’t feel it was the right time to tell him how you feel. Besides, what his feelings don’t extend beyond care right? This is no different than his relationship with Beau or Nott. Love is a strong term and one you may not hand out so freely but you know yourself well enough these feelings you’re experiencing are love. You just don’t want to ruin your friendship because he’s not ready, not comfortable or doesn’t reciprocate your feelings in the same way after all. Caleb has come out of his shell and made so much progress, growing more comfortable and open around you and that’s extending to those around him too. You don’t want him to crawl back into that shell again. You value him more than that.

Quietly you get some dried herbs from a sleeping Caduceus’ stash and wander into the kitchen to make some tea. You’re pretty sure you’re the only one still awake as everyone was quite exhausted after your return. Trying to start a flame to boil the water proved more difficult than you had hoped. Growing frustrated with the flint and steel you slam them on the counter a little too hard. You cringe squeezing your eyes tight shut and listen. Okay… seems like no one woke up from that. You glare at the kettle half the mind to toss it out of the window. Stupid tea. Stupid fire. You take a breather leaning your head against one of the shelves above the counter.

“It looks like we had the same idea.” You almost jump out of your skin quickly covering your mouth to prevent a scream to escape from your lips. You see a bleary eyed Caleb looking about as disheveled as expected standing in the doorway of the kitchen. 

“Don’t scare me like that you idiot!” You toss a towel at him. It hits, draping over one shoulder and he just gives you a ‘really?’ expression as you feel the blood rush from the scare fade. 

“You’re having trouble, ja?” He says more than asks referring to the still cold kettle. 

“You have to make me feel worse about not being able to get a flame going to brew some tea?” You say in jest as you grab another cup for him. Caleb walks over taking your spot and with a snap of the fingers the flame is lit. 

“It is not that difficult.” He jokes back fully aware that your expertise lays not with fire magic. You have many other talents, he’s told you so himself many times praising you for them. You grab the towel draped over his shoulder, fold it neatly and put it back on the counter. 

“Your help is appreciated oh grand master magician.” You give him a side hug which he returns wrapping his arm around your shoulders as you wait for the water to boil. 

“Couldn’t sleep?” You ask watching drops of condensation build up on the outside of the kettle. 

“Ah, no. Uh, wandering thoughts.” Caleb sounds like he’s only half paying attention. Wandering thoughts indeed. 

“Wanna talk about it?” You offer as the kettle starts whistling and you remove it from the heat before it gets too loud and begin preparing the teapot. You take a step closer to the counter, Caleb’s hand falling from your shoulder to your lower back. 

“I… uh-“ He hesitates and you swear when you look over your shoulder for just a second you can see a slight blush creep up his cheeks. 

“Caleb, you know you can tell me anything, right?” He manages to get out a ‘yes’ under his breath so you grab a tray, put the teacups and saucers, the teapot and grab some biscuits from a jar hidden behind the vast array of herbs and spices to avoid a certain Tiefling from claiming them all. Balancing the tray on one hand you turn around and grab his hand, guiding him along into the living room. You put the tray on the table and make Caleb sit down on the couch as you sit down next to him. You can see him take a deep breath and he refuses to meet your eye. Though, that’s not entirely out of character for the wizard so you give him time and space as you pour the tea in each of your cups. With a wave of your hand you cool the hot water to a less scalding but still warm level. 

“I know. But in this case I don’t know if that makes this any easier.” You frown and grab his hands in yours. Almost absentmindedly he begins drawing circles on the back of your palms with this thumbs. While he won’t look at you you can see he’s trying to find the words.

“Should I be worried?” Many questions rush through your head. Was everything alright? Did something happen? 

“No. No. No need to worry.” He musters a quick half smile before it disappears. You hated seeing him like this. So much conflict and inner turmoil. You give his hands a soft squeeze. Whatever this is it must bother him a lot if he’s so affected by it!

“It’s alright. Take however long you need. I’m here for you no matter what.” He takes a deep breath as you finish your sentence. 

“I’ve had some revelations lately and I’ve tried so hard to push them away, deny them or hoping that maybe I was interpreting them wrong but I can no longer just brush them aside. I don’t think it’s fair…” Another deep breath.

“What’s not fair to who?” 

“This. All of it. What I’m doing. It’s not fair to you.” He has trouble forming a sentence. 

“Slowly. Just keep breathing.” You try to calm him down.

“It’s not fair that I freely take your comfort, affection, kindness and even companionship. I’m afraid my actions in return, they do not come from friendship but selfish motives instead. I don’t want this to end but I cannot treat my own actions as rooted from friendship when they are not.” He scrambles on stumbling every few words and you try to make sense of his words but you’ve known him longer than today so you get where he’s going. 

“Caleb…” You begin but he cuts you off.

“No, no I need you to hear this before I cower back and lose the courage to do this. You are heaven sent. You are patient and kind and every time you smile at me I feel my heart skip a beat. Every hug, touch or kiss feels like the warmth of the sun after endless winter. I thought perhaps I felt this way because this is who you are and what you do; making the lives of those you care about brighter where you can. I know you care about me as you’ve reminded me many a time, and I care about you a lot, but I do not think it ends with just care. My realisation showed me that you’ve brought about a feeling I thought myself no longer capable off; love.” He pulls your hands close to his chest. You’re bewilder, confused at this open confession but above all surprised he so openly confides in you. You think hard taking in every word.

“So I think it’s unfair to you when for me this kindness and affection from my side will always be out of love and I cannot in good conscious give you my love when you do not want it. I cannot ask you to feel the same but I also don’t think me returning your kindness and affection can ever be anything other than love. So please, I don’t want what we have, our friendship to end but I don’t want to take what you don’t have to give me…” 

“Caleb, I need you to listen to me very carefully.” You watch as his shoulders slump. So insecure when it comes to other’s feelings and opinions of him it hurts you every time he sells himself short. You look for the right words yourself. If he can muster up the courage then so can you!

“You can be so blinded by your own thoughts and insecurities you don’t even consider the fact that I feel the same.” He finally looks at you wide eyed freezing in place for a second.

“You underestimate your ability to be loved and if I can prove you different, if you will let me prove you different I will.” Caleb scans your face for any sense of insincerity, deceit or even jest but he finds none. He takes a minute but eventually pulls your hands to his lips pressing a long soft kiss to the backs. 

“Thank you. I don’t know what I’ve done to deserve this but you truly are a light in the darkness.” He kisses the backs of your hands again. 

“You were you; all you ever need to be.” You shift leaning into his side, head against his shoulder and his arm wrapping around you. Intertwining your fingers with his at your waist you grasp his other hand and bring it to your lips. That small kiss right where his wrist meets his palm makes him melt. He leans back on the couch pulling you with in a slouched relaxed position. If only the rest of the Nein could see you now. They’d go crazy… 

[shimmershae]

So.  I have some more thoughts.  Shocking?  Yeah, I know, lol.

Let’s see if I can figure out how to purge what’s inside of my overactive brain and have it make some semblance of sense, shall we?  

Hmm.  

Where to start, where to start?  

Okay.  So I think it’s safe to say that the flashbacks pretty quickly establish that Daryl has essentially been set adrift.  He’s been cast back, in some ways by his own choosing, into a solitary searching life that speaks to his past.  He has no anchor anymore, no touching stone--whether that be Rick, who’s presumed dead, or Carol, who’s chosen by default to leave him behind and try to make a new family in Ezekiel and Henry.  

That’s important.  Because until this season?  Until he really matured and assumed, grudgingly or otherwise, the mantle of leadership of the communities?  

Daryl was a follower.  He took his cues from other stronger personalities.  Other people more quick to voice and own their opinions, right or wrong.  Like Rick.  And Merle before him.  

That’s not to say Daryl hasn’t had anything of value to say or add to the communities or to his relationships.  He has and he did.  Remember back at the Prison how Carol told him he was going to have to live with the love?  Daryl was just beginning to find his voice, so to speak.  He was emerging, even if they were only baby steps at first, from other seemingly more formidable shadows, and learning even then how to be more of a leader that people looked up to even if he was still content to be a follower.  

Being a follower was what he was comfortable with and I’m making some assumptions here, but I’d wager that in his abusive past with his old man, in that household first with Merle then on his own, being a follower and sticking to the safety of the periphery is probably what kept him alive.  Being a follower minimized conflict then, I’m sure.  Being a follower when he met up with and eventually connected with Rick and the rest of Team Family was probably the safest way for him to make emotional connections.  

I’m rambling.  I know it and I’m sorry.  It’s what I do.  Ramble, lol.  

Here.  I’m going to place the rest of this underneath a cut because I got more winding words than I have wind and most of ya’ll have patience.  

With Rick gone, with Carol off trying her damndest to live a fairy tale, Daryl floundered.  For all intents and purposes, he was left without any direction, nobody to take his cues from emotionally or otherwise.  

I mean, he literally made ever-widening circles searching for Rick, didn’t he?  Circles have no end point.  They have no real destination.  Not really.  Daryl essentially lived in a spin cycle of pain and regret and inability to really and truly connect with anybody during those years spent searching for Rick--especially since the person he arguably felt closest to and most comfortable with, Carol, basically decided those past connections Daryl was so desperate to find again were too painful for her and attempted to move on.  

He wasn’t emotionally equipped to or stable enough (perhaps still internally dealing with his anger and angst over his torture and imprisonment by Negan at that point in time) to put in the hard work to reestablish those fraying bonds on his own and the man basically lost the plot.  His world narrowed down to this latest search.  This search for a body.  For closure.  For a new purpose perhaps?  

And you know, the man had to be tired.  In some way or another?  He’s probably been searching his entire life.  It’s kind of what followers do.  They look for meaning outside themselves because they don’t feel like they’re enough.  

So then Dog, in the form of this happy, accepting, affectionate puppy appears out of nowhere.  He’s a welcome distraction and knowing Daryl’s propensity to try to reunite the lost with those they love, he started a new little search.  

That led him to Leah. 

Leah, who was alone.  Like him.  Leah, who knew how to survive.  Like him.  Leah, who was stuck in a place of grief.  Like him.  

Leah, who--and I don’t really feel like I’m going out on too far or precarious limb here considering how many parallels they literally slapped us in the face with during this episode--reminded him of someone he felt he couldn’t have, not even her friendship anymore because by her choosing to ‘be there’ for Ezekiel and Henry and the Kingdom she was always leaving Daryl behind and that’s a pattern we’ve all long suspected has really caused hurt for Daryl even if he’s long ‘accepted’ and dealt with it with stoicism.  

Boy, they really blew the lid off that issue didn’t they?  Oh, it was done rather quietly and in a surprisingly controlled manner, but the hurt it caused?  The tears and emotion it elicited was brought about with an almost surgical precision that stunned Carol, but I digress.  

My point is?  Daryl?  Innate follower that he is?  Daryl had grown accustomed to the human connection he found with Team Family.  He was never 100% comfortable with it but he missed it.  He craved it.  And Rick?  Well, deep down Daryl knew the likelihood of finding his ‘brother’ was minimal.  And with Carol pulling away and putting more and more distance between them--how deep and wide was that river, ya’ll, before the episode was done? when it started off looking like a small trickle of a stream?  how wide was that chasm these two idiots in painfully unspoken love allowed to be formed between them?--essentially the two closest people to him were lost to him, leaving him lost.  

So he stumbles upon this woman who is very reminiscent of people that he’s known.  He’s figured out, even though he keeps trying to buck the trend, that you really can’t make it alone in the world anymore.  And when she shows him some small measure of trust by letting him go?  That part of him that didn’t want to be alone kept drifting back into her sphere.  

Now I’m not going to go so far as saying Daryl fell in love with this Leah.  Because, shipping biases aside?  I really don’t feel like he did.  

Daryl found solace with Leah.  

Companionship.  

Remember another time when Daryl was lost?  When he felt he had failed another member of his family? Lost what he thought was the last of his family?  How alone he was at a crossroads when Joe’s group of Claimers came along?  

I’m not equating Leah with the Claimers in any other way except saying Daryl was in a similar headspace when he met her, okay?  Before anybody goes off on me.  I’m just saying that Leah?  She represented what Daryl felt was his one chance NOT TO BE ALONE.  

Daryl’s emotionally stunted, ya’ll. He’s made great strides, but trauma always seems to regress him.  Thankfully, it seems to regress him less and less as he really and truly matures, but it still has a habit of reverting him back to the Daryl we first met.  The Daryl we can easily see growing up in Merle’s shadow. 

When he threw that damn fish at her door, I literally laughed for ten straight minutes because that was funny as hell.  But honestly?  The more I thought about it, the more it dwelled in my mind?  The sadder it actually made me because here’s a grown man essentially trying to connect with another human being on an adolescent level.  

So much of what we were shown in this episode really just reinforced what I’d already suspected to be true--Daryl Dixon just doesn’t ‘get’ the basics of interpersonal relationships.  At least those that could be perceived as romantic.  For all that Carol mused it was like he had become a man back in Atlanta, during Consumed and their search for Beth?  That man is still very much trying to fumble his way out of the starting gate so far as pursuing a woman in any form or fashion.

This is just my opinion and we all know what they say about those, lol, but Daryl has longed for an even deeper connection with Carol since the Prison.  Maybe even before that. I think at the Farm his eyes were opened to her and he started trying to be a better person to match what he perceived as her goodness.  Before he even knew she wanted one, he was trying to be a man of honor.  Then stuff and thangs happened and shit, like Daryl once told Abe, just never settled.  Carol drifted out of Daryl’s reach because he wasn’t equipped with the emotional tools to really go after what he wanted--her in a deeper, different capacity than he’d ever wanted or asked for before--and shit, ya’ll.  If loneliness is a choice then Daryl Dixon was sick and damn tired of it.  

Do I think there’s even really a choice between Leah and Carol in Daryl’s mind though?  A true choice were he to absolutely, 100% realize and know that Carol’s heart was earmarked for him from the very beginning and that she’s suffering from the same delusions that she’s not good enough or deserving of him?  

Absolutely not.  

Leah knew that even if Daryl never divulged any specifics about Carol.  She knew the answer to her ultimatum before she even made it.  

And that ultimatum, ya’ll. 

Maybe it’s weird, but it put me in mind of when Merle pressed Daryl to make a choice between him and Team Family.  

Merle was blood family but like Carol and others said, he wasn’t good for Daryl.  

Leah might have offered Daryl some solace from his loneliness but ultimately staying isolated with her and not reconnecting with those he identifies as family is just as damaging as Daryl choosing to follow in Merle’s wake again.  Similarly to that situation, Daryl was clearly torn as soon as the words were out of her mouth.  

Between loyalty to family and unspoken love.  

In case there’s any confusion here, the unspoken love I’m talking about is his love for Carol.  He felt something for her back at that Prison.  Fight me.  He knew she’d be hurt by him going back with Merle, but obligation and family loyalty led him to make the decision all the same.�� 

Still. He knew she’d understand.  And she did, even if his choice hurt her.  

My thought is that this time?  At least initially?  Daryl didn’t completely separate his loyalty to family (searching for Rick) and his unspoken love (for Carol) when he made his decision.  They’re hopelessly entwined because Carol is a little bit of everything to Daryl--friend, family, the woman he loves and has been halfway in love with for so many years.  Initially, he chose the hope that both would come back to him if he just kept searching.  Because searching’s what he does.  From Sophia to Connie, he’s always searched in the hope of bringing the lost back to those that love them.  He’s always searched because nobody searched for him.  

Daryl is the ultimate lost boy who grew to be a man and still feels like he hasn’t been found.  

But how can he be found if the one person he wants to find him keeps running away?  

Daryl didn’t choose Leah.  

Not from his heart.  

Daryl turned back to Leah because he felt Carol slipping away to where he couldn’t follow her.  

If it can even be argued that Daryl chose Leah, it was by default.  Of course, he feels guilty.  Daryl wouldn’t be Daryl without guilt.  He wouldn’t be Carol’s man of honor.  

And he is Carol’s man.  

She may not be in the place to see it--YET--but she’s getting there.  She’s fighting hard against her natural inclination to run.  She’s trying.  She knows what she wants, even if she doesn’t believe she has the hope of getting it.  

Daryl knows what he wants, too.  He knows, once and for all, where he belongs.  He’s stopped searching.  He knows she’s right there.  There’s no more circles.  There’s just a final destination if he can convince the love of his fucking life to stop running from what they both want.  

He may have left that note for Leah, but you can’t convince this viewer that he didn’t write those words for Carol.  

And that’s all I got to say about that.  

For now anyway.  

Omigosh, lovelies.  

So sorry for the emotional word vomit but thank you so much for indulging me even if I did lose my original point somewhere up there, lol.    

[thestorytellersapprentice]

Why Do-yeok

I cannot believe I'm writing another one of this "Why" post. I thought it's a one-time thing with Love Alarm... But, here I am. Maybe because just like the previously mentioned Netflix series, Nevertheless causes huge discourse among its viewers. Team Potato and Team Butterfly. Jae-eon and Do-hyeok. Sanctuary or the gravitational pull.

And first off, an important note: my intention by writing this is not to seek any debate with anyone. Everyone is entitled to their own opinions, so here's mine. Feel free to read it or definitely not to read it if you're firmly on Jae-eon's corner and you can't imagine Na-bi with anyone else but him. I just want to sort out my thoughts simultaneously through writing this. And this is gonna be a bit long, I suppose.

So, as the title already declares, I'm Team Potato all the way. And, yep, this means I'm thoroughly on Do-hyeok's side and I want him to be happy because he deserves it. (Still need to see what's in store in the final episode, but I'm perfectly okay with an open ending: Na-bi ends up not choosing anyone but herself, as long as her friendship with Do-hyeok remains intact.)

And this comes down simply because of who Yang Do-hyeok is as a person.

If Do-hyeok is real, then you can bet that I'll date him myself too. At the very least, I'd definitely like to be friends with him.

Why?

Because....

One. His whole vibe is just so....warm and comfortable. We often see Do-hyeok's cheerful sides. He smiles a lot (and boy, Chae Jong-hyeop's smiles are just so endearing, but we're talking about the character here. Ahem.) He's attentive, thoughtful, and open. And he's not only like this with Na-bi. He, by nature, is a very friendly person, as you can see from his interaction with Do-yeon, his cousin, also with Na-bi's friends and the hyeongs in the noodle restaurant that he works at.

And I like it a lot that even just after Do-hyeok confesses to Na-bi and she turns him down, the very next day, they're able to speak with each other normally and just talk about his videos and how she'll watch them and give him feedback. That night, Na-bi also answers his call with a smile on her face. They joke around and not even stopping after Do-hyeok throws her some arguably-cringey-lines (if uttered by other guys and not handled properly). Clearly, Na-bi's very on ease and comfortable with and around him despite everything that has happened.

She even says this on her own: "And most of all, I feel comfortable when I'm with him."

Two. With Do-hyeok, the communication is sterling. Honesty and communication is also very important in a healthy relationship. Your partner isn't a mind reader, so you gotta tell her/him what you feel and think about, especially when you're having a hard time, so you both can work on it together. And our potato guy is the perfect example of openness and honesty.

Even when he's having a hard time, he doesn't lash out (unlike a certain someone), but he communicates it clearly to Na-bi: "I saw you and Park Jae-eon going into your house together. I know I said that I could wait for you as long as it takes. But I felt so jealous."

Do-hyeok also casually throwing lines like: "It's nice to hear your voice. The whole neighborhood seems empty without you." which can be really cringey, but hearing these with Chae Jong-hyeop's delivery = it's just Do-hyeok openly sharing his thoughts. And, again, he's not just like this with Na-bi. That's just the way he is. He openly states his concerns and thoughts to people close to him.

After her first disaster relationship and Jae-eon (who's a master deflector on all personal questions and is truly opaque), IMO someone like Do-hyeok is what Na-bi needs. With Do-hyeok, she never has to guess where she stands. And Na-bi responds to his openness accordingly. She shares her worries and not-so-good moments ("I was spacing out because the critique went badly. I got scolded. This semester is really the worst. I didn't get accepted to the exchange program as well.") And of course, Do-hyeok responds by reassuring and encouraging her.

Three. They begin as friends. Childhood friends, even. And while some may point out that she friend-zones him, I beg to differ. The expression on Na-bi's face when she first sees Do-yeon and hasn't recognizes her is not the expression of someone who sees her just-platonic-friend conversing with a girl. You can practically see the gears in her head turning and she suddenly looks unsure: "Who is that girl talking to Do-hyeok?"

But anyway, iIluminatedquill has written here and here what I want to say and more, so I won't add any more here, other than this: it's my own personal preference as well. I'm just more drawn to romantic relationships which also evolve from friendship. I feel that lust will only get you so far, and the companionship aspect is what makes it long-lasting. (Even in my personal life, my boyfriend is not only my boyfie, he's my friend and partner in crime also.)

Four. Do-hyeok has good and normal relationships with his family. He obviously has good relationship with his Grandpa (judging from the way he's reviving his Grandpa's noodle place until his Grandpa feels better) and is close with his cousin, Do-yeon. While this is based on what's been shown and even though we never see or hear about his parents, I think it's safe to say that Do-hyeok most probably grows up in a loving family and he carries their values with him as he approaches his relationships with people as an adult.

Again, this is mostly personal preference, but as someone who highly value family, for me this is another point for Do-hyeok. I'm not saying that someone with dysfunctional family cannot form loving relationships, but it's what one aspires for.

Do-hyeok cares for people. He takes care of them (e.g. voicing concerns over Do-yeon's plastered hand, preparing umbrella and coffee for Na-bi, etc etc). And, sadly, Jae-eon's distant family background just makes him even more detached and non-committal towards people.

As for Na-bi, she wants to learn from her mother and not following in her footsteps. "I promise myself I would never date while watching my mom." It's heavily implied (and is practically confirmed by her aunt) that her mother dates around as well, and from the one scene we're shown during her birthday weekend, she always feels like her mother neglects her and she's upset about it. So, yeah, Na-bi wants to live differently, and it's clear who's a natural at it already.

Five. I can see them growing together. Yeah, Na-bi's mostly the one who needs to sort out her life, but she also can be a good influence to Do-hyeok. She gives him feedback on his videos (as an example) and he builds upon that.

From Na-bi herself: "I don't want to ever disappoint Do-hyeok." She sees him as such a good guy and always receives things from him. I interpret her line here as her desire to improve herself, to be better. And that's how a good relationship should be, right? It brings out the best out of each other.

That's it from me for now.

I guess some of the points up there can be different priorities for different people, and that's okay. As I've said at the beginning of this post, this is all mine, so feel free to disagree.

To me, Jae-eon is like this very strong gravitational pull: he's sexy, mysterious and very alluring, yet he displays oh-so-many red flags. It's all such a rollercoaster ride with him: very fun and thrilling, yet can also cause you extreme dread.

While Do-hyeok is like a sanctuary. He represents safety, stability and ease. With him, it's like strolling on a park somewhere under the sunshine: things feel warm, pleasant, and cozy.

Na-bi probably still feels the gravitational force of Jae-eon. It's hard to shake off completely on such a short span of time, but I hope she remembers that just like her namesake, she always have her own strength to fly and defy gravity.

[gretavanfleetposts]

hi loves!!! congrats on hitting 300 followers, it’s well deserved and I’m so happy for you!!! I love ships mostly bc I’m nosey LOL so this is v exciting.

my name is Jen (here is my face for context hehe):

I’m in college studying creative writing. I want to work in publishing or become a published author myself some day. I’m a Taurus sun, pisces moon, aquarius rising (aka i have a lot of emotions and cry a lot over literally everything, good or bad).

I’m pretty outgoing, I can hold conversation really well and i make friends really easily, too, but going out isn’t something I make a point to do often. If I’m not going out I love to read, write, or binge watch shows/movies—really anything to get the creative juices flowing. My favorite move of all time is The Breakfast Club, but films like Dallas Buyers Club, The Theory of Everything, and Little Women hold very special places in my heart. My favorite books are A Little Life and Six of Crows. As you can tell, I love hurting my own feelings lol. My go to song to brighten my mood is anything by Prince, really, or Green Day. Lately, I’ve been listening to a lot of older music, and have found solace in the voices of Grover Washington and Crosby, Stills, Nash and Young.

Like I said before, I’m a writer, so I spend a lot of time in my head. I love bouncing ideas off of other people, but sometimes some people don’t get as excited as me and it hurts my feelings lol. That’s another thing about me: I’m very sensitive. I tune into everything and I’m too self aware for my own good. Reassurance is a huge need for me. I use people as my muses so I need someone comfortable with that.

My favorite item of clothing is my Taylor Swift sweater, and my favorite accessory is my paper airplane necklace. It almost acts as a good luck charm for me, as I can be superstitious at times, and I have a really huge attachment to it. Sometimes I’m convinced that if I don’t wear it my day is just gonna go to shit lol.

In terms of a partner, I’m really picky. I’ve stayed single for a long time because I enjoy my independence and I want someone who doesn’t feel threatened by that. I need someone equally as creative as me; I love sharing my ideas with the people I love and love when they share back. It’s another form of intimacy for me. I value honesty and loyalty, you know, the basics—I just want someone who is my best friend and lover wrapped into one human being. I think we all strive for that, really, but companionship comes first for me in romantic relationships rather than anything else. If i wouldnt be friends with someone outside of a relationship, why would I be with them in the first place?

My ideal date would be going to a book/record store and just bonding over what we find, then having a picnic or going to a vineyard. Anything where the connection can naturally grow is something I’d enjoy, but literature and music are so prominent in my life that I want to be able to share those interests with someone and be able to learn more through them. I just really love people and learning about what makes them who they are.

Thanks so much in advance!!! I’m so excited to see what you come up with. ❤️

Hey beautiful!

❤: Girl you are so gorgeous, oh my goodness. Also I could tell you're a writer just by reading this. I know it's just a ship request but honestly it was beautifully written. I love your creativity and that you art is inspired by the people around you. And there is absolutely nothing wrong with having a lot of emotions. Cuz girl, me too.

Ship: Josh

Because: I think Josh would love being your muse. Knowing how creative he himself is, I think it would mean the world to him thinking he was an inspiration for your creativity. Like that's probably the highest form of praise in his mind. I think he'd be a good partner and a good friend. He seems so honest and caring and I think the two of you would just click.

Scenario:

You were late for class, sure, but getting to class on time wasn't as important as finding your gold paper airplane necklace

Without it, your day was sure to go downhill

But you found it where you had taken it off the night before, strewn across your nightstand

You fumbled with the clasp, all too aware of the time which seemed to be getting away from you, and in your haste, pressed too hard for the too many-eth time

The clasp broke in your hands

You held it in your palm for a moment, tears already forming in the corners of your eyes, before placing it back down with a deep breath and resolving to go without it

It was going to be a long day

And a long day it was

Your professor had put grades in and you got a particularly bad grade on an assignment you had put a lot of time and thought into; an assignment you had loved, personally

In between classes you had grabbed a coffee, in desperate need of a recharge, which you had spilled all down the front of you before you could take more than five sips

Unfortunately you hadn't brought a change of clothes with you and you would have no time to change before your next class so you trudged on throughout your day with a wet, stained sweater

By the time you had finished with your classes for the day, you were more than ready to head back to your apartment

As soon as you walked in the door, you knew your boyfriend was there

You couldn't see him but you could smell his cologne from a mile away

You dropped your backpack off your shoulders and it fell to the floor with a hard thud

The noise must have signaled to Josh that you were home because he emerged from the living room where he had been browsing your record collection while waiting for you to get home

"Hey, mama," he said, cheery as ever. "How was your day?"

You broke down crying before ever getting a word out as he moved in to hug you

He rubbed your back as you sobbed into his chest, trying to comprehend what you were saying through sniffles muffled against his shirt

You told him about the frustrating day you had had, ending with how your day had started, your broken necklace

He pulled away from you abruptly at the mention of your necklace, much to your surprise

"Oh, about that," he began but instead of continuing, silently took your hand and led you to your bedroom

"I came over earlier because I couldn't remember what time you were done today and saw that it was broken"

He was fumbling with a small box but put his body between you and the task so you couldn't fully see his hands busy at work until he turned around

The little golden paper airplane now hung from a different chain, more delicate than the previous

It shimmered in the light as he held it out to you

"I got you a new chain for it. I didn't want you to have to go without it"

Tears welled up in your chest again, this time from appreciation rather than frustration

You turned your back to him and moved your hair so he could put it on you

His fingers brushed your neck as he clasped it and before letting his hands fall, he traced the line of the delicate gold chain across your skin, sending warmth through your entire body

You turned back to face him again and pressed a kiss to his lips as a thank you

It was a surprisingly good end to an otherwise terrible day and you had Josh to thank for that

I hope you liked it! Thank you for the request!

-⭐

Ships are currently closed

[takamakisu]

Alright, I'm going to give a very unpopular opinion cuz I've been having a lot of thoughts.

I think that Eiko (from Makoto's Confidant) is overhated, and while not the most likable of people, she is realistically written. She doesn't do well in school, she doesn't have a good home life, and she doesn't seem to have a lot of friends either (she's kind of similar to Mishima almost although from what I remember he never struggled academically). Eiko's lonely, and she doesn't feel valued as a person at her core, which is why she attaches herself to her boyfriend who's very, very bad for her: he makes her feel like somebody.

And that's why she's so defensive when Makoto tells her he's bad news and tells her that she just doesn't understand: she has low self esteem and because of that she'd rather feel like she's worth somebody to someone even if they're toxic than be alone. That's what not being whole and not loving yourself will do: you develop codependent relationships with folks who are not good for you (or even ARE good for you but you rely on their companionship waaaaay too much).

Literally almost every person that I have encountered who dislikes Eiko will say "Oh she's so stupid she should've listened to Makoto." And she should've listened to Makoto, yes, because Makoto was right about Tsukasa being a bad person. But not listening to her doesn't make her stupid. Eiko was in an emotionally manipulative relationship because somebody took advantage of her low self image and once an emotional connection was formed it wasn't easy to break it off. It's very easy to say from an outside view that it's obvious that someone should leave a toxic relationship, but it's not as easy as just up and cutting that bond off, even when you know that it's unhealthy. Eiko wanted a long lasting relationship (and iirc she actually even knows deep down that Tsukasa is bad news but she doesn't want to admit it because she's that desperate for somebody to care about her) and put herself in dangerous situations in order to get it.

The thing that bothers me the most is when people find humor in Makoto hitting her and say that she deserves it. I could understand saying "it was a last resort", but to say that violence is deserved towards someone who's being emotionally manipulated doesn't sit right with me. Makoto hit her because she was angry and frustrated and that is never okay; which is why Makoto then makes amends with her later because she admits that she often acts impulsively and out of emotion (which is immature but she is working on it) and it is a fault of hers. And it's immensely frustrating that a lot of folks think Eiko getting hurt is funny and even warranted, just because she's stupid.

I am not saying that you have to like her or that you're wrong for disliking her, or that if you dislike her it is solely because you do not understand her, so please don't misunderstand. What I am trying to say is I feel like a lot of people DO misunderstand the nuance in her character (and that's not their fault because P5's writing is not always 10/10 let's be real) and because of that they reduce her to "stupid and annoying" when it is not that simple, is all. Eiko is a young woman struggling to find her worth. She's a victim, just like a lot of the cast, and getting through to her isn't pretty or fun because the affects of emotional manipulation are not pretty. (Same with Mishima and his codependency. He's been physically abused by people in authority and verbally mistreated by his peers)

Abuse victims do not recover overnight and they will not always listen right away even when they know that their friends love them and want what is best. It takes time to unlearn codependency. It takes time to unlearn self hatred. It takes time to learn to love yourself and associate with others who genuinely love you too. It takes time to set healthy boundaries if you didn't have them set and let people mistreat you. It's a process and it can be frustrating and I think the fandom as a whole could be more gentle in regards to characters who admittedly are not as appealing character wise but are still hurting and struggling like basically everybody else in the game. That's what P5 is about: rebelling against corruption but also helping and sympathizing with the people who are victims to it.

If you read all of this, thanks for giving me your time. I appreciate it. I like Eiko and I am glad that in the end she was able to try to get back on her feet and I wanted to write about it. Sorry if this is incoherent, I just wrote as things came to me. Anyway, take care of yourselves, and have a good day.

[rjhpandapaws]

I Will Always Love You

Prologue: Keeper of Curiosity and Good Faith: Humanity Will Rise or Fall Under Your Hand

Translations at the end

//TW: Description of death/dead body

Curiosity had been the second of them created. Where Wisdom had the power to change the course of Humanity as he so chose, Curiosity had been given the ability to make or break it. Curiosity was the path to knowledge, what humans chose to do with it decided what gifts Wisdom gave them. Much like Balance and Loss would come to be; Curiosity and Wisdom were two sides of the same coin. The four of them had been created to guide humans and protect their humanity. The Beginning has made each of them with two purposes in mind. Curiosity was the embodiment of intrigue and kindness. He was also relatively certain he had been the reason they were given such a stern warning about getting attached.  He had been fascinated by humans and humanity before The Beginning had finished creating them. “Don’t get attached.” The Beginning had said, but Curiosity was already distracted by the many lives she held in her hands, “They live short lives, but many times. They will not soothe your loneliness.” Curiosity wasn’t lonely though, he was happy to have his brothers as company; but he was fascinated by the humans. They were so fragile, even just in comparison to the other creatures of their world, but faced it like they were invincible. They didn’t seem to fear anything yet, and Curiosity found that to be amazing, Without any guidance from their protecting deities they had carved out their own existence and had thrived.

Curiosity had been the first of them to drift closer. He took the form of a robin and lingered where they had settled. He spent a few years like this. Simply watching as his closer presence brought them to venture out and explore the world around them. He had meant to change back and leave them after he had lived out his own fascination; but he had come across a boy with deep blue eyes that looked at everything with such amazement. Curiosity lingered in the form of a cat now, his stay having passed the reasonable lifespan of a robin. This boy brought him things and tried to coax him to shelter whenever the weather took a turn for the worse. It wasn’t meant to be anything more than observation. His young friend was always taking new adventures and he would come back to tell Curiosity about them, though he had followed him every step of the way. Unseen of course. He wasn’t supposed to get attached, but by the time he realized he had gotten that far it was too late. He had gotten to watch his adventurer grow from a lanky uncoordinated teen into a tall, broad shouldered guardian. He did his best to help provide for and protect his tribe. Ever moment Curiosity spent around him was meant to be the last. If he let this feeling keep growing he would never be able to leave. And yet he stayed. He stayed because every time his companion came back he had a new story to tell,  a new thing to show, and a deeper love for everything around him. Every time he came back, Curiosity fell a little more in love.

He had long since passed the life expectancy for a small wild cat but couldn’t bring himself to change forms. He didn’t want to run the risk of not being recognized. He would miss their odd companionship too much. Though when his friend was brought back to the tribe in a near death state, Curiosity didn’t see any other option. He was human before he could give it much thought. Once he was steady on his legs he ran toward his human. Those normally bright and lively blue eyes were hazy and out of focus. There were pink stains around his mouth, it was sticky when Curiosity ran his fingers through it and had an overly sweet smell to it. He had gotten into something poisonous then. Human curiosity at its worst he supposed. The best way to fix this was to make him sick. They would need something bitter. He expressed as much and then worked on getting his companion to sit up. They had to give him bitter herbs four times before they got it all out of him. All that was left to do was let him rest and hoped he pulled through. Beg that they had gotten him back in time. Curiosity was back in his feline form and curled up beside his companion. He wanted to be there when his hunter came back to them. If he came back to them. It took three days for Hennek, as Curiosity had heard him called, to open his eyes. They were unfocused still, but from sleep this time rather than the slow crawl of death. Curiosity had bought them both more time, though it felt more like he had stolen it. Cheated in a way. He would value every moment they had.

As it turned out, the time he had managed to steal them only amounted to a few months. The poison had taken a lot of of Hennek, and he never really got back to himself. He spent most of his time beside Curiosity retelling old tales with exaggeration. Curiosity listened with rapt attention every time, even hearing old adventures of Hennek’s still made him happy. Hennek didn’t have many good days anymore, but when he did, he would try and venture out again. It was on one of his good days that he went out and never came back. Curiosity didn’t truly start to worry until nightfall. Hennek had always made a point to be back by then unless he was hunting. He didn’t do much of that anymore, it took more than he could give. Curiosity still waited until morning to search, Hennek was skilled enough that one night couldn’t hurt. For all he knew his companion had tried hunting again. Dawn found him alone still and the worry shifted to fear. He took his human form once again and took to the woods in search of Hennek. It was another three days before he found Hennek. Or more specifically, his body; crumpled, bloodied, and broken at the base of a cliff. No human could have survived that fall. If they were lucky death would be there to meet them at the bottom. From the trails of blood leading to Hennek’s crumpled form, he had not been one of the lucky ones. Pain ripped through Curiosity’s chest as he fell to his knees. He barely registered the impact. He put Hennek’s head in his lap and ran his fingers through his blood matted blonde hair. He cried for his lost love until he had nothing left to give and the sun was falling on the horizon setting the sky ablaze.

“I am sorry Hennek.” His voice was rough from both lack of use and grief. The irony was not lost on him that his first words to the man he loved were spoken after he had been lost, “That I wasn’t here when you needed me. That I never spoke to you. For only ever observing. For everything. Wherever it is that you have gone, I pray that you are resting and that you might forgive me.” It was too little too late, he knew that, but it was the best he could give. His words would not reach Hennek. While death was not final for humans, it took them somewhere even Curiosity could not follow. He knew because he had tried and tried until The Beginning threatened to make Hennek’s death a permanent one if he kept this up. So he stopped. Hennek’s last moments had been slow and painful, he had been alone, and he deserved better than that. “I told you.” The Beginning had said coldly, “That if you didn’t keep your distance you would be hurt. Look at you; broken all because of one human. How would it treat you should all of Humanity fail because of your poor judgement? All because you had to go and fall in love?” Curiosity hadn’t answered her. For once he had no desire to know. Humanity was a precious thing. It didn’t deserve to fail or be lost. His brothers had tried to comfort him, but they hadn’t known this kind of pain. As much as he had appreciated it, he couldn’t help but feel like they were only turning the knife. They hadn’t felt the haunting hollow ache that came with losing someone that you loved.

He didn’t have the courage to say it to Hennek this time. Perhaps the next time he would. There would be no life Curiosity wouldn’t love him, it was only a matter of saying it.

-

Translations and Names

Hennek = Hound/Hunter

Hank = Hennek

Curiosity = Connor

[hoodedicequeen]

Rewritten 3 - Helene x Avitas

There will be a Helvitas happy ending - it’s just a little... misleading

This fic contains an excerpt from one of my previous fics.

***

Helene Aquilla could rely on only one soul to push her through the aftermath of the war. She had no one left but two friends who valued each other far more than her, an infant who could barely walk, let alone console her, and him.

Musa of Adisa’s friendship was the only thing that held together the thin strands of willpower she had left. Not her will to serve the Empire; she had that in copious amounts, but her will to live. 

She spent much of her spare time with him, riding through the countryside, laughing in the moonlight, reminiscing over the lost. Musa never allowed her to forget those she had loved. He urged her instead to think of all that they had brought to the world, the fire that they had ignited within her that raged on still, alive and strong. His view of the world gave her hope, his friendship slowly remaking her. And yet, it never seemed to be quite enough. 

After dancing with him at the Moon Festival, she felt that it should be something more.

As the two of them strolled through the palace gardens weeks after the occasion, Helene stopped abruptly, meriting a questioning glance from the Beekeeper. 

“Do you ever regret loving her?”

Musa’s expression grew pained. “I will never regret loving her. I only regret not loving her enough.”

Helene placed a tentative hand on his shoulder, remembering their conversation from a year before; shortly after they had taken back Antium. You will regret it for all your years. She understood him now. Understood him so clearly it hurt. “I never want to make that mistake again.”

Musa turned to face her, grabbing her hand in his. His smile was more beautiful and true than any of the ones he’d offered her before. “What are you implying, Empress?” He stepped closer to her.

Their lips were suddenly just a hairsbreadth apart. She could feel his breath mingling with hers. 

“You are a bleeding idiot,” she said, closing that miniscule distance, and crossing an endless sea of emotions and doubts in the process.

***

Avitas Harper was dead. He knew it with utmost certainty and acceptance. No one could have survived such an injury as the one that had been inflicted upon him. No healer nor singer could have altered his fate. Yet he wasn’t in the Waiting Place, and he certainly wasn’t on the other side.

An odd figure lingered by his head, barely visible, as if it were a reflection of a reflection. Almost nothing at all. The figure disappeared a second later, and then reappeared, slightly more solid than before.

“I am Rehmat.”

Rehmat. The jinn queen who lived inside Laia. But what was she doing with him, in death?

“You are not dead, child. You are being given a choice.” Rehmat’s voice was as faint as her form. “In death, awaits your mother and father. Your lost comrades in arms. In life, awaits Helene Aquilla.”

Harper stared at Rehmat disbelievingly. “Why are you here? You should be with Laia. You should be aiding her in battle.”

“Most of my power lies with her. But a small fragment, activated a year ago when you defied the Nightbringer, lies within you still. I am a projection of that fragment.”

Rehmat immerses him in the memory:

“Set her down, Captain.” He enters Helene’s quarters, and the Nightbringer gestures to her bed. “And then leave.” He settles her onto the bed. He tries to do so carefully, but her grimace displays that he could not prevent an inevitable strain from falling upon her wound. The expression pains him deeply. He backs away. “I will not leave her,”  he says. He straightens and looks the Nightbringer in the face without flinching.

The moment seemed like so long ago, and yet he remembered it clearly. He could recall every detail of every moment he’d shared with Helene, good and bad. His choice between life and death, between Helene and whatever lay on the other side, had been made from the moment Rehmat proposed it.

“If what you say is true, then I can go back to her.” He felt like crying out in joy.

“Yes. But as I said, you carry only a fragment of my power. The withdrawal process from your current middle state will take time. Months. Up to a year. But if you wish to return to life, I will send you directly to Helene Aquilla.”

“Yes.” Avitas had never been so sure about anything ever before. Well, except for his love for Helene. “Please give her back to me. I wish for nothing more. I will wish for nothing more for the rest of my existence.”

“Humans have never been wantless creatures.” Rehmat chuckled darkly.

“Goodbye, Avitas Harper.”

***

Harper awoke suddenly to find himself standing in the palace gardens of Antium. 

Further down the garden path stood two figures - lovers - sharing an embrace. Musa, and a woman who bore a striking resemblance to Helene. The way her body curved, the color of her hair, the gentle clash of beauty and ferocity in her form, features he knew and loved with utmost clarity. But Helene would never fall for Musa’s shallow charms, his obviously fake smiles. 

Avitas had never thought of Musa as a bad person, but quite suddenly, the man’s very existence irritated him.

It was then that he realized that he was deluding himself. That it was, indeed, Helene who stood with Musa. 

Harper knew he should be nothing short of grateful that Helene had found love, that she was happy. But all he felt then was a heart-wrenching sorrow.

Had Helene moved on days after he had gone into the middle state, or had it been weeks? Months? He knew that she had loved him, that he loved her, but it was possible that her love had been born simply from the desperation of war, a need for companionship. He could clearly see that she was no longer burdened by that need.

If he interfered, and Helene did have lingering feelings for him, he would hurt both her and Musa. And if her love for him was naught, then he could only hurt himself. 

Harper turned away and began walking out of the garden.

Humans have never been wantless creatures.

Rehmat was right. For though he had been given another chance at life, though he had gotten to see the woman he loved, he still wanted more. 

***

Helene removed her lips from Musa’s at the sound of leaves rustling behind her. There had been no winds, not even the slightest of breezes.

She regarded Musa’s hurt expression for only a split second before turning and  bounding silently towards the intruder. He was a fool if he thought he’d be able to assassinate her that easily. 

It was only when she’d tackled him to the ground and held a knife to his throat that she realized that his back had been turned to her, that he had not seemed to have any intention to harm her at all.

It was but a moment later that she realized who he was. 

“Av- Avitas?”

“Helene.” He allowed himself a weak smile, his eyes, for once, revealing everything that he felt.

“No. Avitas Harper is dead.” She pressed her knife to his throat; he made no attempt to resist her. “What are you?”

“Emifal Firdaant, Shrike.”

No unholy fey creature could possibly know of the words they’d shared. She had whispered them to Harper and Harper alone. And he had whispered them back to her with his dying breath.

“But I saw you....” No. She didn’t care what she had seen. Avitas was here. Her Avitas. 

She kissed him. Kissed him with all of the pain she’d felt in losing him. Kissed him with the passion of all the kisses they should have shared in the past year. 

But he didn’t kiss her back. 

And when she followed his gaze to Musa, to the Beekeper’s pain at the thought of all that could have been had Harper not returned, she understood. 

“Musa...” She understood, and still, she could do nothing. 

The Beekeper walked away.

***

The next morning, a small scroll appeared in the palm of Helene’s hand. She saw but a glimmer of wings upon receiving it. 

Consider your favor to me fulfilled, as you have granted me a six month leave to Adisa to assist with rebuilding. Spend time with Avitas Harper. If I was given a second chance with Nikla, I would let nothing get in my way. I know you are a much better person than I, and would not be so eager as to do so. Therefore I am removing myself from your path. Best wishes.

***

Musa, 

I doubt I will ever be able to thank you enough for all you have done for me over the past year. Your hope, your kindness, and your irritating disposition are signs that the Skies have yet to completely condemn me. You deserve all the happiness in all the worlds, and we both know that it does not lie with me. You deserve much more than to be an unwilling Empress’s second choice. But our time together was much too short, and I desperately wish that we can remain friends. I will be damned by the ten bleeding hells if you run away forever without so much as a goodbye.

Empress Regent,

Helene Aquilla

***

Upon the completion of her letter, Helene began wandering the palace in search of Harper. 

She found him in the baths.

“Where is Musa? Why are you here?” His expression gave away nothing. But his eyes - they told a story all their own. They were laced with unending desire, and an equally deep abyss of sorrow.

Instead of giving him an explanation, she found herself pulling her hair free of its crown and stepping towards him ever so slowly. “You know why I’m here.” 

The words were an echo. The start to a conversation they’d had there before.

“But I need you to say it. Please.”  

“I’m here because it’s been a year since you’ve kissed me, since you’ve held me, since I’ve seen you at all. And when I saw the light fade from your eyes, I knew that I’d never love the same way again.”

“Helene.” He stepped closer, and whispered her name in her ear. He whispered it again and again, falling into sobs as he did, for he had thought that what they were starting would never be possible again. 

She replied with his name, a mere breath falling from her lips. Filled with sorrow and endless joy alike. 

“Avitas.” 

[arcaneraven]

A good book vs the love of a detective.

M detective x Nate Sewell

Summary: A simple cliché book date.

Word count: 1k

(Please excuse this. My romance writing is cliché, sappy and fluffy. This is 100% a self-indulgence piece for valentines.)

The welcoming aroma of old books perfumed the air. Lines of bookshelves obscured the room’s walls and even floor. It was a bookworm’s paradise. This second-hand bookshop had it all… But despite the numerous titles that called my name, my attention fell onto one I had explored hundreds of times. Nate. For once I found my hands tangled around Nate’s in a need to express my love and companionship, rather than seeking out comfort or for a distraction from the strangulating stress and anxiety the past few months brought. We could finally breathe. We could finally breathe together. We could breathe at a calm and peaceful rate without having to constantly look over our shoulders. The only catalyst for my heart pumping at an exhilarating rate was the man that stood beside me. It was a welcome change, a small moment I will never take for granted.

I must had zoned out lost in admiration for the simple time to not realise how Nate looked down at me with a quizzical look. “Everything all right Detective? I should have known it’s too old-fashioned is it not.” He sighed looking down at his feet, there he went again putting too much pressure on himself to make everything perfect. I sighed and brought my tattooed hand to his cheek, where he immediately sank into its warmth, his own warmth melting my cheeks into darker brown hues.

“It’s perfect, Vampire Shakespeare,” I hummed, my fingers now tracing his stubble line. The odd petname smoothed out his worried pinched eyebrows. His eyes closed against my touch, he lifted his own hand and placed it over my own.

“’My bounty is as boundless as the sea, my love as deep; the more I give to thee. The more I have, for both are infinite.’ Act 2, scene 2, 146.”  Nate’s voice sighed; it was huskier than normal. Whilst I would love to tease him for his cheesiness, I could not help but feel enraptured by his words. Silence had never felt so good, hand in hand, my head resting on his shoulder our heart beats did the talking as we fell victim once again to each other’s presence.

I went to open my grey eyes to continue the romantic affair, but instead of trailing to the face I knew so well, they widened as the book’s calls became unbearable. “No way.” My words fell out before I could stop them. The vampire cocked his head to the side “what is the matter love?”

“Wizard of Earthsea first edition, book one of a classic trilogy written by—“

“Ursula Le Guin, 1968!” Nate chimed in reluctantly untangling himself from my embrace. The pair of us reached out to drag the book from its paper prison surrounded by various mismatched novels; our fingers brushing as we pulled the tomb down with gentle ease. As the book slowly was pulled out the shelf, unbeknownst to ourselves it was holding the rest of the tightly packed books aline.

Nate’s eyes widened as panic overcame him, valuing the books over his supernatural secret. With inhuman reflexes he leapt forwards, gathering all the antique books in his arms before they met their planned demise of colliding with the uneven wooden floor.

By the time he had caught the precious tombs I had only just managed to slip out a pained gasp of shock, the Wizard of Earthsea book clutched safely in my arms.

“Stercore, merda, cachu!” Nate took a ragged breath, the colourful words dripped out his mouth in every language, alive and dead, as he hugged the books with as much care, as he held me moments before. Eventually his breath calmed down. Our eyes met once again, painting the same image of relief and guilt. “For a second time in my life. I am glad to be a Dens Homo Sapien.” (Scientific term for Vampire.)

“The first time being?” I arched a brow, it always seemed Nate wanted to escape his fanged reality. Nate sauntered closer to me and placed his forehead against my own. His dark brown eyes as lush as the dark browns of a mysterious forest lulling me into a trance. “It should be obvious detective.”

“I’m not sure. Increased speed, strength, senses, healing, ability to see in the dark, immortality. They all seem like equal skills to be glad of. “

“I thought you were a detective,” Nate sighed.

“Ah sorry, I missed out on having pointy fangs! I know I very much appreciate them.”

“Not nearly as much as I appreciate you.”

I was about to topple under his words. With my heart hammering at a thousand beats per second; I span around to the back of him, and gently pushed him towards the centre of the shop. Directly towards a welcoming set of beanbags.

 “Alright Vampire Shakespeare at least let me have a comfortable place to perish under your words.” I tutted, speed walking ahead and launching myself into the inviting beanbags. The seat immediately sinking around every limb of mine, the plush fabric framing my form which Nate examined with a warm intimate smile.  

“I would rather you did not joke about your early demise so carefreely detective.” His words were genuine and sincere, earning a well-deserved eyeroll.

I am not sure when it happened, but as I found myself lost within the pages, the seat of choice had been replaced by Nate’s stomach. He casually ran his fingers through my curly dark brown locks, an unusual frown had taken hold of his features gaining my attention.

“Natey?”

“You are too cruel. How can one choose between these stories or making new ones?”

My book closed, and was gently placed beside me, Nate’s book of choice soon joined mine, cover closed…

A new chapter burst to life, a new favourite of ours. The author being our lips eagerly writing new paragraphs of an old romance series I hope never ends.

(Again i’m so sorry my writing is so rough! Romance really isn’t my thing I just was in the mood hahaha.)

[legolaslovely]

Helios and Morpheus

A/N: Here is my part of our collaboration for the Durin’s Day Gift Exchange for @linane-art ! Thank you for brainstorming with me and being so supportive and patient. You made this even more exciting than I thought it would be, and let me tell YOU, I was thrilled about it all in the first place. I hope you enjoy it. I am so excited to share it! :)

This is somewhat loosely based on Greek Mythology, AKA it’s an Alternate Universe! Rated Gen. Get ready for some LONGING and some FLUFF.

LOOOOOKKKKKKKK AT @linane-art​ ‘s ARTTTT LOOOOOK AT THE PERFECT BOYSSS!!!! Thank you for giving us SUCH gorgeous works. 

The link for Fili is HERE!! And Kili is HERE!! Please go give @linane-art​ some love!!!!!!

Helios and Morpheus

Tell us of the impossible lovers, O Muse.  Those who defied Fates, Furies, and Almighty Zeus, Who found forever hidden in distance between, Paradise more perfect than Elysian serene.

Tell us of Helios, the God of Golden Sun Who rides in his chariot before night’s begun. His radiance shines as he watches and he waits For God of Dreams, Morpheus, to fly from his gates. 

Perfumed with his poppies and directives to spare, Roused only by his One with the rays in his hair, Morpheus stars in dreams prophetic and divine, Telling his love in sleep, “You are mine, you’re all mine.”

One alone rules the day as sky’s singular light. Another’s domain lies in the darkness of night. As stubborn as star-crossed, fierce as Cronus, they were, Bridging the cosmos for a love that was most sure.

Book I

To those below and above, he was known as Morpheus. To those around him, however- to his parents and his brothers, the Oneiroi- he was Kíli. To himself, he was a dreamer.

One could suppose that’s how it all began.

From very early on in his eternal life, he was known around the cosmos for his talent of deceit. But the true-hearted Kíli only deluded with his physical appearance. With a bit of concentration and a blink of time, he could shift from his godlike form into any other imaginable. Those below often said that no other was more skilled than he in representing the gait, the features and the speech of men, but little did they realize, Kíli could manifest as much more. Truthfully, he just thought the world of men had very tiny imaginations, even in their dreams. 

And so, his talents were put to use. Zeus commended him and dubbed him the leader of the dream makers, called the Oneiroi. He was to spend his nights flying through the world of men, delivering messages from the gods to their pupils through their dreams. Instead of using his skills for amusement, for playing pretend and hiding from his brothers, Kíli- Morpheus- would exhaust himself and his power by playing messenger boy for the King of the Gods.

Still, Kíli learned to have his fun. 

You see, though Kíli was explicitly told what message to send to whom, the how was entirely up to him. He could morph into a towering cyclops and poke the belly of his recipient until he listened. He could make a pit stop in the sweetest dream of the prettiest semi-divine woman and make her fall in love with him just before night’s end. He could even visit Hades to make ghost children into brave soldiers, or Hephestus to take a lesson in sword forging. As long as he delivered his messages on time, he had the power to do whatever he wanted.

But it all ended with the rosy-fingered dawn.

Every night had its end. For others, that was a hopeful thought, even a prophetic one, but for Kíli, it just meant he’s run out of time. His freedom was stripped away by the clouds painted orange. For a long while, some thousands of years, he stomped back through his gates like a tantrum struck child, furious at his forced time-out. He’d grunt at the guards and leap over the Rivers of Forgetfulness and Oblivion, and lock himself in his cave to sleep among the poppy seeds until he received the orders for his next outing.

In the recent millennia, however, he’d been risking everything to hide behind the lock of his ivory gate and watch the black night sky lift and glow indigo, then violet. He’d wait to see the golden chariot cross the cosmos, pulling aside the curtain of night to reveal the bright blue day behind it. He’d heard the stories all his life. He knew what happened in the universe that took his time away from him and turned it into day. But he only recently saw the phenomenon for himself and since then, he never wanted to miss the show.

It wasn’t the glittering coat or glistening mane of the thundering horse that he was interested in. It was the one inside the solid gold chariot that first caught his eye. It was Helios, God of Sun, he wanted to watch because, though he was almost blinded by the sunny halo every morning, Kíli was sure Helios was smiling at him.

Book II

Helios was happy. Though others often wondered how he could be.

Those above pitied him for his status. It was unjust for the God of Sun- the deity of something as important as creation, light, and life- to be considered a minor god. He would never see the world below from the peak of Mount Olympus. He couldn’t watch the measly humans through the silver, puffy clouds. Sure, he had his own clouds to peer through way up there on his own throne, but they weren’t as pretty as the ones that surrounded Mount Olympus. Not at all. Helios only had regular clouds. What a shame.

It may have been that those below pitied him even more than the Olympians. Helios was alone. Yes, he had power, eternal youth and breathtaking beauty, but he’d never share any of it with anyone. How sad! To spend the light of day watching the world below, only to be so distant from it. Poor, lonely Helios.

Solitary and depressed, but never forgotten. For who could forget the sun?

In return for his service and out of their pity, the gods above gave him the most beautiful land to shine on and watch over. Artemis kept her trees tall and her meadows vast so long as Helios kept them green. Demeter graced the farmlands, encouraging crops to grow up to the light of his rays. Even Poseidon, grateful for the glimmer of warmth Helios left on his sea, returned the favor and controlled his waves whenever the halo of sun crossed the sky at day’s end.  And sometimes, Zeus would throw some thunderbolts and give Helios a day of rest when he especially deserved it after weeks and weeks of impeccable radiation.

Helios was the only being who couldn’t understand the world’s view of him. Between those generous gifts from the higher gods and the worship and prayers from the humans below, how could Helios ever be unhappy? In his opinion, he had it made. 

Because he was a minor god, he didn’t have to deal with the problems of Olympus. He was glad the fabricated kidnappings, adulterous adventures, and cannibal snacking rituals were kept way over there on that mountain and his warm, serene hours were spent way over here on his very own throne. He shined his brightest on his own. 

Still, that didn’t mean he disliked watching the humans from afar. On the contrary, he adored them.

He smiled down on them as they wept in his name. He peeked through the dreary, grey clouds and gave them warmth as they built his temples stone by stone. Attentively, he watched as they danced and sang for him, begged him for his blessings and thanked him for his creation. In their words, he was gracious. He brought joy to mortals. Again, their words, not his.

He was given all this simply for being beautiful. He was pure light. He ruled the sky for thousands of years and was grateful, never wanting any change.

Then, as randomly as an autumn leaf falls to the ground, his lands brought him something new. Or rather, someone. As Helios crossed the sky and brought the dawn, he looked down on his endless estate and spotted this someone watching him. It was not a farmer, nor a thief or human forced to wake before the day. 

Instead, it was clear this Dark One enjoyed the night. He stood unshrinking from the black sky and smiled at Helios, clearing any blame for his bringing the sun. This someone, this Dark One was happy to make his sacrifice to Helios- a ritual the Sun God had never enjoyed until now. Now, it was a gift.

Never in his eternal life had Helios pulled on his steed’s reins to slow the sunrise. It wouldn’t work. His chariot would plow on with its duty with time warping speed, never paying a hair’s attention to the Dark One in the shadows. There was no time. Dawn must come.

With that, Helios crossed the sky, eventually losing sight of his someone below. When he leapt from the gold to gold, from the chariot to his throne, he searched for the Dark One, but his own light stole the shadows and his someone was nowhere to be found. His passing eras slowed to hours. During the time of his reign, he watched the humans find Aphrodite, Hestia, and Hera and when the night came, he himself found his Dark One waiting for him every morning.

Book III

Morpheus had the ability to enter the dreams of any and all. He could punish the dastardly with nightmares so garish and haunting, his victims would change their ways in the morning. Or he could gift the selfless with visions of peace and profit, the lonely with companionship, or the sick with health. Over the span of his existence, he’d delivered messages and prophecies to billions- humans and gods alike.

Tartarus, he could even sneak into Zues’ dreams and feel the power of the King’s Thunder if he felt like it. But Kíli valued his immortality too much for such a thing.

Bottom line: Kíli could visit all who dreamed. Which was everyone. Or so he thought.

It was really just his luck that the one he so wanted to meet- and even eavesdrop on if Kíli was honest- was out of his reach. Contrary to popular belief, the sun never slept and neither did the god who powered it. 

He didn’t understand why. What did Helios have to do during the night? Where did the Sun God even go when darkness came? Wasn’t there time for the Golden One to rest?

Kíli was determined to find out.

When darkness came on the Winter Solstice, the longest night, Kíli flew as fast as he could to the dreamers through the lower lands. He delivered a curse here, and a revelation there. Then, dressed in his best disguises, he climbed up to Mount Olympus to greet the two gods he was meant to visit. His foretellings were clear and concise. There was no time for any mix ups or confusions which, despite Kíli’s best intentions, were a common occurrence with drowsy recipients. 

After all his duties were finished, he tumbled down to his gate with time to spare. There, hanging onto the delicately etched ivory pillars, he waited alone. The night hours he so treasured ticked slowly past- slower than ever before. More than once he leapt from the ground, wings waving and flapping when he was sure he saw a speck of light coming from the east. But he realized his eyes were only playing tricks on him in his anticipation, and eventual boredom.

Still, he didn’t leave his post.

The sky remained dark for so long, Kíli was sure he’d gone blind trying to make the smallest stars into the golden halo he longed to see. He wondered why nothing was happening, why the blanket above wasn’t lifting to indigo, then violet in preparation for Helios. Had something happened to the Golden One? 

He panicked. 

It was unbelievable. 

For ages, Kíli wished for eternal night and cursed the morning Sun, and now all he wished for was the scalding rays to burn his skin. He’d welcome such a painful end if he could see the Sun God one last time.

Then, there was light. 

Real light, nothing Kíli’s eyes or drowsy mind could create. This was it.

His waving wings let him hover just above the ground, his bare toes dipping into the tall grass. He had to be careful, he had to time it right if he wanted a chance to speak to Helios as he crossed the sky and brought the dawn. If his actions weren’t perfect, his flesh would sizzle and leave his bones unsheltered to melt in a matter of seconds. Helios’ light was his end. So he must stay in the shadows.

After such darkness, Kíli could only see a white blur crossing the sky, but after years and years of watching the sunrise, he knew well how Helios’ shining steed cut through the night like a rapier. He raced up to meet it, his every muscle jolting in tandem to flap his wings with enough speed and precision to shoot him to a height that took his breath from his body. There, on the level, he waited.

That was his mistake.

The chariot barreled toward him with such graceful speed, its very own wind left Kíli reeling through the air.

       “What are you doing?” He heard.

He found his balance and his rhythm and darted from the heat on his back. It singed the very tip of his wing, but with the breeze of his flight, the fire and pain didn’t travel upwards. So he flew on, grabbing hold of the chariot’s edge.

       “No!”

Kíli realized, but it was too late. Of course the gold of the chariot would be as blazing as an open flame. He hissed in pain, but flew on until he matched Helios in his flight.

He called the Sun God’s name, letting it grace his lips for the first time. “Helios!”

       “Are you daft?” Helios cried, yanking on his reins with a force that turned his knuckles white, but the horse didn’t slow.

       “I’m Morpheus!”

Helios laughed. His eyes sparkled, glittering like the brightest stars in the sky, like the loudest, most dazzling thunderbolt Zues ever threw had been captured inside the golden head of this god.

Kíli knew Helios was beautiful. He knew of the creamy skin, the aureate halo, and the smile as curved and irresistible as cumulus clouds. But he didn’t know of the blue eyes. They struck him and slowed him down.

Still, before he burned, before he circled back and raced to his gates, flying through without a look back, he heard Helios yell something to him. He saw Helios smile at him, as he’d seen every morning for hundreds of years. But this time, his Sun was close enough to touch.

Book IV

Helios’ days were all the same. It was clockwork and routine- the paths he took to and from the farthest corners of Poseidon's ocean, how long the trek took, when and where he’d begin and end. He knew what he’d see along the way. There were never any surprises because nothing was ever different. 

At least that was the case until Morpheus loomed by his gate for the first time. His first appearance had been unusual and indeed gave Helios pause at first, but even that had become something expected after thousands of years of his Dark One’s presence. 

Morpheus flying to his chariot before dawn, however, that was unexpected. A surprise. Even a fright to Helios that jarred him like nothing else he’d ever experienced. It left him with so many questions. Helios wasn’t used to having any such thing. He was the Sun. He had all the answers. He was the steadiest thing in the cosmos. He was arguably the most dependable god.

But now that Morpheus had flown to him, Helios was unsure. He sat in his throne and glowed dimly over the day, diverting most of his energy to all the questions now crowding his headspace.

Why, he asked. 

He’d spent his eternity thus far watching all beings under his light. They were predictable. He was never surprised by their actions. And yet, Morpheus, God of Dreams, left him flabbergasted without a single answer as to why he’d risk his life to speak to a god in the opposite domain. What was the point? What did he want to say? Wasn’t he terrified?

But Helios’ most important question was: Had Morpheus heard him?

He hoped so. For when he wasn’t wondering and pondering, Helios was dreaming. Well, he guessed he was dreaming. He’d heard his humans talk about it in his temples, running to his altar after a night of his blessing their sleep and revealing himself to them in a vision. It was as if they’d truly seen the god, Helios, and had even spoken to him, though it was obvious such a thing was impossible. Helios never strayed from his post.

But he dreamed on with his eyes open and his rays shining. Just before his mind’s eyes were wings twice the size of Morpheus’ body and black as the fur of Cerberus. He even went inside his fantasy and touched the wings with his fingertips, leaving them with what he hoped was a pleasant warmth. As his dream Morpheus leaned into his touch, even closed his eyes to it, Helios’ halo shone ever brighter to the lands below. 

Then, as if clouds filled the sky, more questions would clog Helios’ mind and his rays would dim as he asked himself why.

So the day went on, sunlight ebbing and flowing until his steed grew agitated. Sparkling hooves stomped into the ground, the glistening tail swished and the impatient head bobbed, strong neck arching tight in anticipation. Dusk was approaching, as was Helios’ long ride. But even after his exhausting day, he leapt into his chariot, ready to work through until dawn when he’d see his Dark One again.

       “Come to me tomorrow,” he’d said. 

He hoped it with every glittering speck of himself.

The reflection of his chariot shimmered in the ocean below as he passed through the sky. His steed took him past mount Olympus and over the thatched roofs of Corinth, then Larissa. He passed wide meadows and gentle creeks, waiting patiently for the chance to fly over Morpheus’ gates. Though the Dream World spanned much of the Underworld, Helios knew exactly where the horn entrance would appear at the break of dawn. He knew where Morpheus would be. 

Morpheus.

It left the great Sun God trembling, for he was aware of the danger his Dark One faced. If all didn’t unfold perfectly, Morpheus would be no more. And it would be Helios’ fault. Even in all his uncertainty, he was sure of that.

Leaning over the side of his chariot, Helios kept his eyes glued to the ground. He stayed low, remained as dim and cool as he could without giving himself a mortal chill. He waited. All things familiar glowed underneath him until the horn gates of Morpheus’ Dream World glittered in his rays. But Morpheus wasn’t leaning on the post. Instead, he was already flying through the air to meet the chariot. Helios’ gut sunk.  His Dark One was wasting his energy. He should have waited! 

It was too late now.

As Helios’ golden horse loped on, quickly surpassing Morpheus’ own swift speed, Helios reached out with a cool hand and dragged his Dark One safely into the seat of his chariot. Then he slid to the opposite side, pulling his limbs as far from Morpheus as the chariot allowed.

The two gods stared at each other. Morpheus was squinting at him, even in Helios’ dim light.

       “You told me to come back to you,” Morpheus said. “You told me to return at dawn.”

       “Yes,” Helios said.

Morpheus scooted closer to him, moving his hand to the back ledge of the chariot to pull himself along. “Why-”

       “Don’t!” Helios cried, dragging his Dark One’s hands into his own. “Don’t touch the chariot. It will burn you.”

Morpheus latched onto him. “But you’re not burning me. How is that?”

      “It’s only dawn. My rays aren’t as powerful now.”

Morpheus was watching him through narrowed eyes, taking in his every feature as if he’d never seen another being before. Like he’d only ever dreamed them, and never actually saw or touched. It took every bit of Helios’ power not to shrink from his gaze. No one had ever looked so closely at the sun.

Morpheus reached for him and ran his icy fingers around Helios’ ear, tucking his shining hair around it. “You’re so warm.”

       “Sorry.”

       “No,” Morpheus was quick to say. “It’s pleasant. You feel wonderful.”

Just below them was the shore of the western ocean. Dawn would soon pass into full morning. They didn’t have much time.

       “Why did you come? It was dangerous for you,” Helios said. He shifted in his seat to shelter Morpheus from the light creeping up to his back. They were close now, closer than any two opposing gods had ever been.

       “I’ve spent so long in the shadows,” Morpheus said. “I wanted to feel your light.”

Helios grinned. Everyone in the cosmos wanted to feel the light of the sun. But he’d keep himself from all the world, he’d let it all freeze over if it meant he could safely shine on his Dark One for the rest of his eternity. Just for a moment, he leaned closer to imagine what it would feel like.

       “I wanted to see you, but you don’t sleep!” Morpheus said, bumping the tip of his nose to Helios’ cheek. He jerked away and hissed, rubbing his sizzling face. “You heat up quick,” he laughed.

       “You must leave,” Helios said with a wince. “I can’t slow the dawn.”

       “I know. But here, take this.” Morpheus reached to the nape of his neck and untied the sticky stem of a single poppy from his hair. He placed it in Helios’ hand and folded his fingers around it. “Tomorrow when the moon rises, I want you to smell this. It’s one of mine. Bring it up to your nose and take a deep breath. Think of me and I will come to you in your dreams.”

       “I’ve never dreamt anything before. I’ve never even slept.”

Morpheus reached for him, but stopped himself before he could touch Helios’ scalding skin. He closed his eyes to the blinding shine. “Then I’ll fly to your chariot every day at dawn.”

       “No. It’s not safe for you.” The poppy was wilting in Helios’ hand without its maker. “I’ll do as you said. As long as you will come to me.”

       “I swear it. There’s no place else I’d rather be.” One eye creaked open and Morpheus smiled before it clamped shut again. “You sure are bright.”

       “You must go.”

His black wings rose above the chariot and opened like wide wooden doors before Morpheus blindly leapt from Helios’ side and dove to his gates. There, he disappeared before Helios’ own rays could burn his flesh.

As the Sun God was delivered to his throne, he held tight to his poppy and dreamed with his eyes open about what the night would bring.

Book V

It was rumored Morpheus’ wings had the strength of a thousand soldiers. Though the feathers were lush and silky, the arching bones crowning the tops- extensions of his own spine- were not to be trifled with. How else would he fly through the cosmos from city to city and even to Mount Olympus to deliver himself to the dreams of his recipients? The wings were so robust, so legendary, and yet his flight was as silent as an owl’s, for what good were they if they woke his dreamers? 

Tonight, however, his wings were still. He had his scroll, his list of messages to deliver and beings to visit, but instead of rushing out of his gates to tend to his duties, he stood just past the lock to his Dream World. For the first time in his endless existence, he didn’t know where to go. 

His most important dreamer didn’t have a regular resting place. As far as Kíli knew, Helios traveled in his chariot all through the night, distributing his light around the universe. It would be impossible to pinpoint his exact location, never mind catch up with the soaring chariot. The only thing Kíli could do was wait to be summoned.

Still, Kíli couldn’t even be sure Helios would be able to dream, or even sleep for that matter. His poppies worked wonders on ailing humans, but he’d never offered one to a god before. It was forbidden by Zues. As was his and Helios’ affair. He knew they were treading a very dangerous path.

Usually, Kíli would be terrified of Zues. He would hide in the shadows of his Dream World, only emerging from it to take orders from the King of the Gods. He’d take his notes with his head down and wings wilted, never quite looking the Maker of Thunder in the eye. Every interaction made him quiver down to his soles.

Now, however, with Helios in his sights, he wasn’t scared. It was as if he had a secret weapon that left him powerful and fearless against anyone who stood in the way of him finding his very own Sun. Nothing mattered beyond his One who glowed and lit up the sky, bringing hope to all in his domain. Kíli felt that now.

So he stood at his gates, daring Zues to threaten him or his love and hoping with every inch of himself that his poppy would work. He waited for Helios’ call.

He closed his eyes to listen.

The wind rustled in the grass and tickled his feet. A cat yowled in the dark. The warm stuffy silence of night muddled his mind. 

Then all was clear. When he opened his eyes, Helios was in his arms, asleep.

His plan had worked.

As expected, the Sun God was warm. Kíli had felt this kind of residual heat before when he entered the dreams of sleeping humans who were wrapped up in too many quilts during the night. However, this kind of warmth wasn’t so oppressive. Instead, it was a balmy comfort that washed over his lap and up his arms. Kíli, the God of Dreams who only came out at night, was feeling the Sun for the first time.

Meanwhile, Helios, who never slept and never left his post, conquered his fears and did so for Kíli. He was peaceful. The poppy had worked and it had given him rest. That knowledge only added to the rush Kíli was feeling in his chest as he pulled Helios closer, protecting him, lest he regret placing his trust in his Dark One. 

Though Helios was not shining, not even glowing, Kíli was still stunned by his beauty. It wasn’t dull or dimmed in the night, but magnified. This close and without his rays, Kíli could see his true beauty- the lines in his lips from his own heat and those around his eyes left by his gleaming grin. Even now, in sleep, Helios smiled and Kíli didn’t miss the dimples in his cheeks and how the left one was deep enough to cradle the tip of his forefinger. 

Kíli took this chance to touch the god, not to take advantage of him, but to appreciate him while there was time to be had, while he was unwatched. He ran his fingers through the silky golden hair, down the strong neck and over the proud, smooth shoulders. It electrified him like the night air never could. Then, after what felt like hours of staring and contemplation, Kíli even dared to kiss his Sun’s head. His lips lingered over the warm skin as he held Helios tight to his chest.

With that, Helios sighed. “Where am I?” he asked, working to focus his gaze on the one above him.

       “You are in the arms of Morpheus,” Kíli said, smiling down on him. “Which is to say, you are asleep.”

       “Morpheus.” Helios wriggled closer, wrapping his arms around any part of Kíli he could reach. “If this is a dream, then let it never end. There’s nowhere else I wish to be.”

Kíli hummed. “You’ve come over to the dark side then, hm?”

       “If that’s where you are, yes. I’ll follow you there.”

Like most things in the world of the gods, Kíli’s flowers affected all beings differently. He was happy enough that Helios had fallen asleep at all, so he couldn’t blame the virgin dreamer for his honeyed state. If Kíli was honest with himself, he didn’t at all mind his Sun’s sweet words, though he knew they were coaxed out by the power of his poppy.

Helios sighed again. “I’d follow you anywhere.”

       “You’re quite the romantic in your dreams,” Kíli said.

Helios grinned. It was bright enough to make Kíli’s heart soar, but not to blind him as it had when they shared the sky. 

       “Have I won you over, then?” Helios asked.

       “Do you think I’d risk my life just to speak with you if you hadn’t already?”

       “Twice!” Helios said with a wagging finger. “You did it twice.”

       “Yes, I did. And I’ll do it again every morning hence if it will allow me the privilege of holding you again.”

The Sun God let his head flop on Kíli’s arm. “Now who’s playing the romantic?”

Kíli would do anything to see those blue eyes more clearly, but as Helios talked on, his lids fluttered shut, lashes feathering against his cheeks.

       “I must have- had too much of the poppy. I did as you said, but the first… it didn’t do anything. I needed to see you, so I...” He laughed. “And now I can hardly keep my eyes open.”

Kíli caressed his cheek. “It’s all right. You can relax, I’ll be here.”

Immediately, the Sun turned to sand in Kíli’s arms, burying his forehead in his Dark One’s chest. Again, Kíli felt immeasurable pride. One of the most important beings in the cosmos allowed himself to be cradled and cared for by him. It made him return to his earlier wishes of wanting the night to last forever.

       “Morpheus-”

       “Call me Kíli.” He smoothed the line between Helios’ brows with his thumb as he explained, “It’s the name my mother gave me. Only when Zues gave me the Oneiroi, did he give me the name Morpheus as well.”

       “But that’s not who you are.”

       “No.”

Helios said his name. His real name. A lazy tongue flicked its way through the consonants and soft lips curled around the sounds with a smile. Then Helios said it again. “Kíli.” He leaned into Kíli’s night-cool touch that grazed the rounds of his golden cheeks and the cliffs of his thick brow. It rumpled as he said, “I don’t remember a time when I didn’t empower the sun. I’ve always been in the sky. Alone.”

       “Not anymore,” Kíli said.

Helios hummed and sighed and sank further into Kíli’s arms as if the disease of his loneliness- an ailment he never knew he had- was cured irrevocably. “Kíli. If you are Kíli, then I must be someone as well. Give me a name, Kíli.”

       “Your name is perfect just the way it is.”

He opened his eyes. “But it wasn’t given to me by anyone who matters.” For the first time, Helios reached up to Kíli and stroked his cheek. The touch was long overdue, but Kíli could forgive it because of the tenderness it evoked. He leaned into it, distantly listening as Helios continued. “Call me Fíli. Similar and yet opposite, just as we ourselves are. I’ll be your Fíli.”

Kíli snorted. “I should call you ‘Silly’ instead-”

He squeezed Kíli’s arm and chuckled. “Just give me this.”

Kíli wasn’t in a state to deny him anything. He’d fallen too far too quickly for such things. So he nodded.

       “Will you give me something else?”

       “Anything.”

Ever so gently, Helios- Fíli- led Kíli’s lips down to his own. Kíli gave him his kiss. In one moment everything between them changed. The cosmos parted and opened the way to a new universe of their own, one in which they could live in harmony and without fear, pain, or isolation. After millenia of giving- Fíli giving life and Kíli giving fantasy- they together stole it all for themselves. They gave each other the impossible. 

But Kíli felt himself begin to fade. 

Fíli held onto him like a stubborn serpent.

       “Don’t leave me,” Fíli said against his lips.

       “I won’t. It’s you who are leaving me.”

       “No.”

Kíli chuckled and his cool air blew over Fíli’s face, making him shiver. “It’s not your fault. You’re waking up.”

       “Stop me.”

       “I can’t. Not even you can slow the dawn. But we have forever now, Fíli.”

Fíli kissed him again. Even on the edge of his dream, the sun inside him was rising, leaving his flesh hot in Kíli’s arms. He would be untouchable in a matter of minutes.

       “Will you come to me again?”

       “Every night,” Kíli assured, risking his fingers to feel Fíli’s smoldering cheek once more. “And I will wait at my gates for you every morning.”

       “Not for too long, Kíli. I won’t have you scorching your wings again.”

       “You’re starting to sound more like yourself,” Kíli said with a scoff.

Fíli smiled. “I’m still your Fíli. And there’s still nowhere else I’d rather be than here in your arms. But you’re right, we both must go.” 

Yet Fíli’s only movement was to kiss his Dark One again. Then he watched until Kíli was a blur in the darkness.

Book VI

When Fíli opened his eyes, he was in his chariot. From the look of the waving blue mountains ahead, he could tell his nightly quest was about halfway through, meaning his trusted steed hadn’t even noticed his mind’s absence. After all, the horse knew the route as well as he did. It was an encouraging display that simultaneously left him bitter with disappointment. While it was made clear he’d be able to remain in Kíli’s Dream World for longer nights in the future, it only reminded him how short tonight’s visit had been.

He didn’t want to wait- not for the day to pass or even the night hours to fade before he could see his Dark One again from high above. But alas, even Zues himself suffered from such impatience for not even the King of the Gods could accelerate time. 

What did comfort Fíli, however, was Kíli’s love of the night. Though Fíli was bored by its boring darkness, his love- yes, his love- relished his freedom under the starry sky. It was his time to thrive. Fíli could imagine him, dream of him flying through the cosmos as he leaned back in the seat of his chariot. Maybe one night, the two would cross paths, he thought.

But when he wriggled down into his seat, something crunched. It set off a familiar smell. He reached up, startled to feel something in his own hair, and gently pulled at not one, but three poppies that were neatly tied and tangled together. Kíli must have left them in his golden waves just before he faded away from the dream. Rolling the stems in his fingers, Fíli smiled, bringing too high a dawn for the middle of the night. But he couldn’t help it. These were a promise from Kíli for more nights like this one in a universe of their own. 

They’d make a life for themselves in the short hours before dawn. Helios and Morpheus, known to only themselves as Fíli and Kíli, would love for eternity.

[magioftheseas]

There’s definitely a recurring theme of “you’re a really flawed person but you’re still deserving of love” in jshk. I mean, hell, it’s there as early as the first chapter and while it’s kinda present in Chapter 69, uh...

Yeah I don’t...believe that’s what actually comes across where Akane’s involved.

Akane’s literally shown himself to be obsessed with Aoi to a degree far more similar to Nene’s shallow crushes than anything comparable to Hanako or even Kou, who Akane compares himself to directly.

Edit: Y’know what, this is long and I’m a good person. Read more time. Also obligatory statement that if you like the Akane/Aoi ship, you are not a garbage person. I don’t know you. I don’t know your story. I have no stake in what fiction you consume/enjoy. Feel free to ignore this post but if you WANNA read it anyway for whatever reason aS LONG AS IT’S NOT A WEIRD PSEUDO FORM OF SELF-HARM, here’s a read more.

(Seriously don’t read this if you’re just looking to make yourself feel bad.)

(Just...please.)

There’s just also the way it gets conveyed when Aoi’s flaws are pointed out. Let’s compare.

Both of these are conversations that boil down to “even if you have problems, you’re still worthy of companionship” as they end with an reaffirmation of friendship in both cases.

As for Chapter 69... Notice that it has a distinct trait the others don’t have.

Aoi is told she’s flawed during an act of violence. And instead of merely being stung for a bit the way Hanako and Mitsuba both are, Aoi’s emotional response is more serious in that she starts crying. And what happens after this isn’t a reaffirmation of friendship...but a reaffirmation of attraction.

And Akane calls back to this, implying that this moment is when he fell for her.

And then he proceeds to totally ignore boundaries and Aoi telling him “no”...

And our scene of reaffirmation--

With all due respect, calling Aoi’s very human trait of “is upset when people tell her she’s hated” cute in the context of Aoi being afraid her flaws make her unlovable is a bit...strange. And suspect.

Saying “you’re flawed but still worthy of friendship” is common decency.

Saying “you’re flawed but that you’re insecure about it is sexy” is...uh? Even if it’s not exactly negging, it still feels like that ballpark. And it really says a lot that Akane’s reaffirming of their “friendship” is used to say “that’s why I understand you better than you yourself do”.

Aoi is emotionally vulnerable in this moment. Rather than reiterate her value as a person, Akane focuses exclusively on their relationship. Whereas back to Mitsuba and Kou...

Kou focuses on Mitsuba still having value in a general sense rather than a personal one. It’s not about him and his feelings towards Mitsuba but about Mitsuba himself and his well-being, emotionally speaking. And there’s no mention of “wow you’re insecure? sexy”. Admittedly this scene is platonically framed, not romantically, but as I pointed out before, it’s still a much kinder and more compassionate gesture than what we see between Akane and Aoi.

And Akane and Aoi are supposed to be childhood friends. Hell, Akane reiterates that specifically (while not letting us forget for a second that his interest in her is romantic):

Let’s also focus on “You don’t need to say anything for me to understand you” because like... Akane literally ignores what she says while making moves on her. She’s protesting and he’s just completely disregarding that because he “understands the real her”.

Yeah Mitsuba and Hanako aren’t super chatty on their ends in the earlier scenes, but I’d still consider those moments conversations.

Not this. This is just a dude forcing himself on a girl while she’s emotionally vulnerable.

Does Aoi eventually lean into it? Yeah...after much forcing. She’s also emotionally vulnerable. You could see this less as two people mutually coming together and more as one being manipulated into it by the other, physically and emotionally. That’s how this scene comes across to me.

I don’t see Aoi being reassured of her value even with her flaws in this scene. I see her being manipulated into a relationship because she’s insecure of said flaws.

Is this an uncharitable reading? Yeah. Fact of the matter is that consent being taken for granted is anything but healthy communication and Akane’s given me zero reason to give him charity, especially when the scene starts with an act of violence.

I should say this sort of display isn’t exactly uncommon in manga, especially romance. Still finding this enticing isn’t a flaw of character, I mean, this is still a fictional relationship and fiction doesn’t have to be wholesome to be enjoyable. I in fact have several ships where attempted murder happens between the ship in question. I get it.

But, when this literally happens in the chapter before this one...

“Aoi, you’re only returning Akane-kun’s feelings because you don’t want to be alone!”

Snark aside, the discrepancy more than irks me.