#if the people who love me and know how important my writing is to me can read it

[greenwitchfromthewoods]

a white stone. l Joel Miller

Summary: it was a hard time for you

Warnings: angst, lots of tears, lots of grief, tw: miscarriage, loss of a child, mourning, unwise decisions, one infected, depressing thoughts, risky behavior, Ellie is there, trying to deal with grief, and finally some hope

A/N: I'll be honest, your reaction to the previous chapter really touched me. my heart was breaking while writing this, but I wanted it to be there. I promise they'll be happy. I'm not a monster after all. but I was moved when I saw your comments and when I could interact with you, it was really nice. thank you for being here and reading.

your feedback is very important to me and I thank you for all the reblogs, comments and likes. 🖤 sorry for all the mistakes

short stories from life. [masterlist]

"Joel, I'm so sorry for your loss... You didn't deserve this." Ann's soft voice reached his ears. Her eyes were shining with tears, Joel knew that you had grown very close. "I wish I could help you, I would like to talk to her, but I don't think it would be good, considering…my condition."

His gaze followed her hand, which lightly touched her rounded belly clearly visible under her dress.

"Yeah, I guess you're right." he replied, his voice a bit hoarse, but he tried to sound nice. He flinched when Ann touched his arm.

“If you need anything, tell me. Shane and I will do whatever it takes.” She pulled a small package out of her bag and handed it to him. “I made her these cookies. She really liked them last time. Can you give them to her?”

Joel nodded and took the gift from her. Ann didn't hold him back any longer and quickly left, he knew she had shed a few tears. Maria looked similar when she came to him in the morning. She offered to help him with the laundry. Tommy must have told her about the blood stains Joel had found, she had wanted you to avoid stumbling upon them again when you got home.

He didn't have the strength to get involved in the discussion and let her take everything she thought she needed to wash.

Ellie was much quieter too. She made sure you came back from the clinic that evening and promised to tidy up the house, make you tea or something. She wanted to be useful.

It was already dark when you and Joel set off home together, in silence. Just like a few weeks earlier, when you had gone in with your heart in your sleeve to find out you were pregnant, at this point you had both returned broken, not knowing how to cope with the loss. Dr. Morris had told you to rest, so your hiding in the bedroom was understandable. But the days passed and nothing changed.

"She needs time." he explained to Ellie and wanted to add "Like all of us." but he stopped himself.

But then something strange happened. He could clearly hear the creaking of the door, quiet footsteps upstairs. It was Ellie who would sneak into your bedroom, spending hours there sometimes.

"Sometimes we talk, sometimes we're silent." she said when Joel asked her about it one evening. "You know, she blames herself for all of this... She doesn't say it." she added, seeing Joel's worried look. "But I can see it in her eyes."

Your eyes. That was the saddest thing about all of this. Joel had the impression that life had disappeared from them. You have become a body. Still warm, still with a beating heart, but empty inside. He didn't know what to do about it.

"Remember... You once told me that it's not time that heals wounds, it's people. Can't you help her with that? I mean... You love each other, right? I know you're suffering too, but somehow you're coping."

Joel was barely coping with it, really. He did what he could - worked at the stables, helped with renovations, came home to see you were still there. Tommy would sometimes try to talk to him, but he was avoiding it more and more.

"I'm sorry, Joel." Your quiet voice made him look up from the book he was reading in bed and look at you. You came out of the bathroom, your hair still wet, your shirt sticking to your damp body.

"What are you apologizing for, darling?" he asked anxiously.

You folded your arms nervously across your chest, your eyes glazed over. He wanted to get up and take you in his arms, but you looked like a scared animal and he knew he couldn't do that.

"I'm sorry I let you down." you finally choked out, a voice filled with tears "I think this is my punishment, you know. I was so afraid to accept the idea of ​​pregnancy, I was so afraid of all this... What if this child felt it? What if it was because of this?"

"Don't say that." he interrupted you, getting out of bed and taking a few steps towards you "We were both terrified. I know you're in pain, but..."

"You don't know how I feel!" you sobbed "You have no idea!"

He gulped looking at you with pain "I think I know..."

Then it hit you. Joel really knew what you felt, and he had lived with this pain for much longer. Tears flowed down your cheeks and you covered your mouth with your hand to stop the loud sob that escaped your throat.

"And I gave you this pain again..." you choked out, feeling your throat burning.

Warm hands grabbed your face, Joel directed it towards himself. The brown eyes that stared at you were so gentle, so good that you wanted to drown in their depths.

"I wish I could tell you how much you mean to me, but I don't know the words to describe it. You gave me more than I deserved, baby. And I know you're hurting now, I can't promise you it'll be easy, but you're not alone in this. You have me, Ellie, Tommy and Maria, you have Ann and Shane and..."

He didn't finish, because you pulled away and snuggled into his chest, hugging him with all your might. Tears soaked his shirt, but for a moment he hoped he saw the seed of life in your eyes.

Quick footsteps echoed through the stables and Joel glanced over his shoulder to see Shane approaching him. The man nodded in greeting.

"Look, I don't know if this is a good idea, but if she thinks she can handle it..." he began, Joel quickly interrupted.

"What are you talking about?" he asked, putting down the brush.

"You don't know anything?" Shane raised his eyebrows and shook his head. "It's a good thing I came to you first." Your name left his lips. "She came to me with the idea of ​​going back to patrolling. The doctor said there were no health issues, but..."

"You can't be serious." Joel mumbled. "Yeah, the doctor said she was fine, but... Jesus, I didn't know. Has she been to Tommy about this yet?"

Shane shrugged. "Listen, I respect you Joel. I know you're both having a hard time right now, this loss..." Joel looked down and Shane didn't pursue the matter, but he finished his thought. "I don't know if it's wise for her to go on patrol. Maybe in a few weeks. Sure, I can go with her, I'll keep an eye on her, but still..."

Joel cleared his throat, his brow furrowed. "Thank you for telling me. I'll talk to her."

Shane nodded. They were both silent for a moment, until he finally said the words that had been going through Joel's head. "She wouldn't do anything risky, would she?"

Joel wasn't sure about that. You took it one day at a time. The sun rose and set, and you both tried to find your way around your activities. He could feel you tensing under his touch, but he still hoped it was temporary, that you were still trying to cope with all of this. But going back to patrols? That was something new, and he didn't like it very much.

"I don't know what you mean." you replied when he brought it up after returning home. "I've done it before. Morris said I could go back to my duties."

"And I'm sure you told him everything, right?" Joel sneered, resting his hand on the chair. "About how little you sleep. About how little you eat. Because I know you, and I know that you try to hide what's uncomfortable for you, what hurts you and..."

"Thank you for the psychoanalysis!" you hissed. "You do the exact same thing. You're out for hours, doing God knows what."

"Because you don't want to talk to me! I'm trying to get closer to you, but you've put up barricades." he rubbed his hand over his face, trying to gather his thoughts. “Listen, I won’t stop you. But I want you to know that I don’t think it’s a good idea. I love you, I care about you. If there was some way I could…”

“I’m going on patrol with Shane tomorrow.” You interrupted. “Thank you for your concern, but this is what I want.”

He nodded. There was nothing more he could do.

Was it unwise of you? Maybe. But you wanted to believe that going outside the walls of Jackson would make you feel different. You needed it. The space, the forest, the horizon in front of you. The four walls of the house, Jackson - it was driving you crazy. 

Your thoughts kept circling in similar areas. Joel's touch, once so tender, now irritated you. His watchful gaze was glued to you, but you knew perfectly well that he was looking for an opportunity to break free, to leave the house, to be alone.

You didn't blame him. You guessed that he felt hurt too, maybe even disappointed. He had given you such support at first, but after the loss you weren't sure if he still wanted it. Yes, he had talked about it, but you had a feeling that he was forcing himself to do all this.

Shane stopped and looked around carefully. This was your another joint patrol since you came back and you found yourself in a new region. His behavior tore you away from your thoughts for a moment.

"Is something wrong?" you asked, looking where he was.

"I'm not sure." he mumbled. "Maybe it's a rabbit or some other animal." he glanced at you over his shoulder. "You good?"

"Yeah, we can move on." you replied and you slowly moved forward.

Shane didn't bring up any sensitive topics. He respected your silence, and when you asked a question, he answered, happy that he could occupy your thoughts with something else. You found a rocky ledge that seemed perfect for camping and resting.

"Ann packed something for you." Shane smiled, handing you a small bundle. "I swear, she probably wants to fatten you up."

"I don't mind. I love her baked goods." you replied, sniffing a piece of apple pie with cinnamon.

You ate in silence, listening to the sounds of the forest, inhaling the fresh and clean scent. You offered to wash the dishes in the stream below and slowly went down. The water was pleasantly cool, washing over the mossy stones and washing the remains of food from the plates and cups.

You remembered the river where you first saw Ellie. It was much bigger. But then you met Joel too, your paths connected. Now you were by the river again, and you hadn't been this far from each other for a long time.

"Hey! Hey!" Shane's call tore you from your thoughts, "Watch out, on the right!"

Something was moving quickly in the ferns, panting and hissing. You stood up abruptly and put your hand on the butt of the gun at your side. You stared in that direction. Shane was calling something, but you barely heard him. 

An infected one crawled out of the undergrowth. It looked awful, like it had been here for a long time and nature was slowly trying to take it over. It crawled toward you, sensing its prey, and you...

You couldn't move. You felt the gun under your hand, you knew what you should do, but you just stared at him as if hypnotized. Teeth that could easily bite your throat, tear you apart, kill you and free you from everything that...

A loud gunshot made you jump. Shane was next to you and fired a second shot to make sure. He looked at you with fear and anger.

"That's what I was afraid of!" he growled, "I felt you would do something like that... Jesus!"

"I could handle it." You replied, but he shook his head. He took a few steps trying to gather his thoughts, and then looked at you.

"You and Joel are my friends, we've been through a lot together, but... I can't stand to watch what you're doing to each other," he said, his eyes genuinely concerned. "Listen, I know you're hurting. You've had a lot of bad things happen to you in your life, you didn't deserve them. I also know you're strong, tough, good. And Joel's heart is in the right place, you know. He loves you. He'd give his life for you if you asked him to. And you'd do the same..." he took a few steps towards you and noticed the tears welling up in your eyes. "I won't tell him what happened here. But you need to talk to him. You need to find a way back to each other. Don't let this fucking world take the best of you away."

You saw him on the porch with his guitar, quietly strumming the strings. The setting sun was falling on his face, making his skin seem almost golden. Damn, you had always thought he was handsome, but in that moment you realized it again. A heavy stone fell into your stomach as you thought of the hell you had created for yourselves.

He lifted his head at the sound of your quiet footsteps.

"Joel..." you began quietly.

He put the guitar down and stood up. "I want to show you something," he said. You nodded.

You let him grab your hand and lead you to the back of the house, then a little further to the trees growing on the outskirts. The trees cast long shadows and the sounds of Jackson slowly faded away. You didn't see where Joel was leading you, it was only when you stopped that you noticed.

Under the spreading oak tree you saw a white stone, it was smooth and surrounded by smaller stones like the ones you saw in the stream. Your eyes found some grooves on the surface. Letters or numbers. You let go of Joel's hand and walked closer. The numbers formed a date, and just above it you saw a small carved cross.

You understood.

“When Sarah left, it was like I died while I was alive.” Joel’s voice was quiet and calm, reaching you over the rustling of leaves and the chirping of birds. “I don’t remember much of that time. A black hole. I don’t want you to end up there too, baby, and I can see you’re headed straight for its embrace… I thought if you had a place you could come to when the days were really hard, it might help.”

You turned and looked at Joel, the man you loved, who had done more for you than anyone else. Your eyes stung from the tears that were pressing under your eyelids, you were still surprised that you were still able to cry.

"Did you do it yourself?" you asked. He nodded.

"I thought it might be easier for you... I wish I could take this pain away from you, but I know I can't. But you're not alone... We're in this together, remember?"

He didn't think your little nod would give him such relief. He felt like he could go to you, take you in his arms, hug you and try to soothe this pain. And Joel did it. You hid in his arms, in the mix of sobs he heard your pleas for forgiveness, promises that this time it would be different, that you would be together again.

"I love you so much, baby." he whispered, touching your lips with his, pressing his forehead to yours.

"I love you too."

☆☆☆☆

Thank you for your time.

taglist, i think: @picketniffler @orcasoul @bbyanarchist @o-sacra-virgo-laudes-tibi @somedayheaven @underneath-the-sky-again @callmebyyournick-name

[icearts]

Nobody is talking about how Angeal and Sephiroth are exact opposites in EC and it's making me unwell so I'm gonna dump it.

Have some pictures of their 2D renders for fun

Prepare yourself, this rant is a little long (but don't worry there's visual aids)

There's more obvious tells out there, like their body language and overall postures, Angeal is generally more open and Sephiroth is generally more guarded.

However, notably, this carries into how they hold their weapons throughout all of their appearances, even in Crisis Core

Fair warning, my source is multiple Google articles so prepare for some inaccuracy and uncertainty. Feel free to correct me.

Sephiroth carries his sword in an ox guard, which has the purpose of intimidating your opponent while also having the sword protect your vital organs.

Angeal's sword is held in a plow guard, which operates a bit like a fool's guard (I actually thought it was one at first), making yourself look more open to attacks to Provoke an enemy into coming in. Unlike the fools guard, the plow guard gives you a quicker maneuverability to strike first once the opponent comes in.

This is really important for their fighting styles, as Sephiroth is quick and deadly, meanwhile Angeal (i think the game refers to his character type as a Provoke Tank) always stands somewhat in front of Seohiroth and tries to draw in hits, acting as a shield. They have the sword and shield dynamic

BUT ITS ALSO RELEVANT TO THEIR PERSONALITIES you see Sephiroth acts cold and bitter, trying to keep people at arm's length, especially raw after EC Part 1 where he and his past friends had a Not Great Time (I won't give the recap sorry it'll take too long and I'm laser focused rn). Anyways, Sephiroth, much like his stance, tries to intimidate people into staying back. He will not let himself look vulnerable to attacks.

Meanwhile, Angeal is more open and friendly, taking Sephiroth's briskness and impoliteness in stride. He's open and welcoming even when Sephiroth's defense is his offense.

They're also both well trained with swords, so they can probably infer a lot about each other's personalities through how they hold their blade. Angeal seeing Sephiroth as someone who is guarded and closed off, avoiding getting hurt by being the first to lash out. Sephiroth views Angeal as being too open and vulnerable, and may even have a presumption that, like his fool's guard, Angeal is baiting Sephiroth into getting close enough that he can attack him the second he's open. It's good shit.

Next up: the weird purple-vignetted dreams they get in EC

So there's some spooky shenanigans going on in this story. I have my own predictions as to what's going on, but for future's sake, at the time of writing this is am only 2 chapters in. I'll try to be more direct to context and then provide my future game predictions at the end. Cool? Cool.

So we know based on canon that Sephiroth's dream isn't a memory, or an event or anything like that. So by process of elimination, Angeal's is the same way. Plus

Little confirmation here that Angeal always felt unable to care for his parents, which hurts me so bad btw. Anyways, analysis time.

Sephiroth fantasizes about being cared for and reassured. He wants to know what it's like for someone to love him unconditionally, he cannot even imagine the possibility. This dream shows him exactly that, his mother making him food and telling him she's always been there for him and they've always has this. In the dream, he believes it although is confused by conflicting memories. She's momentarily able to convince him that he is cared for and loved by her. In reality, he's never met his mother (her name isn't Jenova either, but that's a story for another day).

Angeal fantasizes about being to care for others. He wants to help his village, create a strong community, care for his parents and make it so they do not have to work so hard. He wants everyone to feel safe, secure, and rested and he is willing to carry all of the work on his shoulders to the best of his ability. His dream shows him doing exactly that, which based on the falsehood of Sephiroth's dream, means it's a false memory and he never was able to care for his parents for whatever reason. Really hopeful the game will tell us soon. Maybe he did try but it wasn't enough. Maybe he was weak because they didn't have enough food. Who knows.

Also, for context, Tetsuya Nomura (FF7 director) did confirm that Angeal's father has a chronic illness and died shortly after Angeal joined SOLDIER, after having worked himself to death. So Angeal dreaming of these memories of helping his dad to support his grateful but guilty mother is likely very much influenced by a sense of grief or guilt.

Then in the next chapter, these dreams happen again.

The Banorans obviously either did not make this promise or did not act on it, seeing the state Angeal's family is in in Crisis Core, his dad having worked himself to death when he was a young recruit and his mother being in a very grief-stricken and detached state.

So this plays into how they view the world. Sephiroth longs for someone to protect him from the world he's observed to be cruel and cold. He mentions this in dialogue talking about how they world views anything different as a monster. Even SOLDIERs to which Angeal promises himself that he'll help Sephiroth see that people are not all like that.

Sephiroth is jaded and distant to protect himself, as he thinks the world will turn on him in a moment's notice. Angeal, however, holds an optimistic worldview. He believes people want to help each other and everyone wants to help each other to the best of their ability.

So they're very much opposites, but they're also exactly what each other needs. Angeal needs to feel needed and helpful, protecting people who trust and depend on him. He is friends with every SOLDIER, able to recognize them at a first glance (ironically he does not do this for Alissa but I may wait to share my theories about her). Sephiroth is guarded but secretly longs to be cared for. See where I'm going with this?

So based on how these dreams are going, they're definitely being influenced by some kind of force or another. Personally I think it's Jenova itself, as Jenova has the power to do this and to transform things into projections of loved ones in order to garner their trust (much like Kadaj does in The Kids are Alright). My prediction for where the climax of this story is gonna go is that Angeal is going to have to protect Sephiroth from these visions, and Sephiroth learns that unconditional love can come from friendship and camaraderie, not just maternity. It's gonna be great. I have entire scenes mapped out in my head about this.

They're a sword and shield, Sephiroth being quick to strike and Angeal always being there to defend. It's one of my favorite dynamics ever. Their appearances also contrast, most notably in their hair color.

They both have a resigned acceptance about the implausibility of their fantasies. Sephiroth does not have a mother to care for him, and Angeal cannot save everyone. The foil of their dynamic is so magnetic it hurts. I will scream if I see Angeal make pumpkin soup for Sephiroth in the future.

My rants getting distracted so I'll cut it off here. Merry Crisis

[thehauntedetheral]

Yandere Cricketer

Requests are open!

Yan was famous for his cricket skills, good looks and athlete fitness. People all over the world loved him.

He has looks, fame, Name, money everything.

But this man became the happiest after meeting you.

After an year of dating yan broke heart of many people as he married the love of his life that is you.

He always wear his wedding ring in a chain as he can't wear it in fingers on field. He always make sure to have his wedding band on himself as on finger or in chain. Depending whether he is on field or off field.

After hitting six or four on field and making a century he kisses his wedding band in chain while looking at you who is sitting in stadium and cheering.

Is literal definition of "Where's the trophy? He just come running over to me" because after winning every match he just comes running towards you to give you a tight hug whispering "we won baby, thank you for always supporting me thank you I love you so so much".

When asked in interview questions like "Who is your biggest inspiration? " " Who will you like to give credit of your success ?" "Most important person in your life?"

All this consist only one answer from yan that is "My lovely wife"

He always insist that you should attend his matches because he always says " You are my lucky charm love"

If due to some reason you are not able to attend the match he always video calls you before and after the match. ( Have to see his baby's face because he can't live without you)

Blushes when your name is mentioned in any interviews.

Gives you flying kisses from field.

He is an scary and aggressive player on field while a total cutie in front of you.

Yan in cricket field : ☠️

Yan infront of you : 🥰

Players are afraid of his batting skills and come up with bowling strategies to out him. Meanwhile at home you just throw the ball at him while playing cricket in the backyard and say he is out and this poor puppy doesn't even refuse and says he is out when he knows he is not at all out.

People know him for his brilliant cricket skills, athlete fitness and numerous trophy but he is most popular for how he treat his wife as a goddess. This man will die and kill for you.

While playing he always has the mindset that "my wife is watching has to play good to impress her" even after marriage.

When taking photographs with female fans, models or actresses he always keeps his hands to himself. When in an interview asked why he does that? " Well people spread fake rumors through photos and I don't want that. If my wife reads that she will get upset and I don't want that. " This man can't bear seeing you upset and most definitely he doesn't want any stupid rumors ruining his lovely marriage.

While accepting awards he always mention in his speech how much he loves you and is thankful to you for always being there for him.

"Thank you so much to my beautiful wife without whom I wouldn't be what I am today. Thank you so much baby for everything. " This man doesn't miss a single opportunity to show you how much he loves and appreciate you.

His social media posts are full of only two things 1. Pictures of you 2. Cricket.

This man cherishes only two things in his life you and cricket. Other things doesn't matter to him.

This man feels like he has won in life as he has you and cricket in his life. He doesn't want anything more or else in life as long as he have you.

For More Yandere Reading:

[joaosnovia]

Hiii!! I've been thinking about this for a while, and I feel like you're the best person to write it. Something where the reader and Kenan are getting involved, spending time together, but no one knows. They don’t follow each other on Instagram and try not to like each other’s posts so no one gets suspicious. She told him it would be the best way to avoid gossip since she’s the daughter of a famous retired football player and wants to keep things low-key. But after a night together, Kenan tells her he's tired of hiding, that he wants her at his games, and that he doesn't care about all that. Still, she keeps avoiding it. There's an important match in two days, and he really wants her to be there. Then, out of nowhere, her dad decides to visit and takes the chance to watch the game. She texts Kenan, telling him that his wish is coming true—she’ll be there, and no one will suspect anything. The game is amazing, and she ends up appearing on the big screen next to her father. Those images start circulating on football pages because everyone is fascinated by how stunning the ex-player’s daughter is. This brings a lot of attention to her, and suddenly, some bolder footballers start following her. Kenan does not like that…

I feel like there could be more to this, but I can’t think of an ending. I know you can turn this into gold!

❦ - hidden in plain sight.

summary:: what the req says + i honestly wouldn’t be able to tell u bc i didn’t proofread this and i wrote it like last week (idek if this even follows the req but im posting this otw to school?)

warnings:: uhhh none

writers note:: RIGHT so i think im people favourite kenan writer bc the reqs just keep coming (i love you guys pls don’t ever stop my cuties!) anyways enjoy 💔.

tags:: @barcapix @n0vazsq @httpsdana @paucubarsisimp @universefcb ; lmk if you wanna be added or removed!

kenan leans against the doorframe, arms crossed over his chest, watching as you slip one of his hoodies over your bare shoulders. it’s too big, the sleeves hanging past your fingertips, but you wear it anyway. you always do. the early morning light filters through the curtains, casting a golden glow on your skin, making the moment feel softer than it really is.

you’ve spent the night together, again, but as always, you’ll be gone before the world wakes up. it’s your unspoken rule.

but something feels different this morning. there’s a weight in the air, something unspoken lingering between you. you can feel kenan’s eyes on you as you tie your hair into a loose ponytail, as you reach for your bag. normally, he lets you go without a fight. normally, he kisses you once more, watches you walk out the door, and waits for the next time.

but today, he doesn’t just let it go.

‘you really think this is still working?’ his voice is quiet, but there’s an edge to it.

you pause, fingers tightening around the strap of your bag. ‘what do you mean?’

‘this. us. hiding like this.’

you turn to look at him, his expression unreadable, but there’s something in his eyes, frustration, longing, something deeper than either of you have ever acknowledged out loud.

he steps forward, his hands slipping around your waist, pulling you closer. ‘i want you at my games. i want to see you in the stands, wearing my jersey, cheering for me. i want to go out with you without having to think twice about who’s watching.’ his fingers tighten just slightly, like he’s afraid you’ll pull away. ‘and i don't care who knows.’

your heart clenches, but you force yourself to shake your head. ‘kenan… you know why we do this. the second people find out, it won’t be about us anymore. it’ll be about my dad, about gossip, about every little thing i do. and then there’s your career-‘

‘my career?’ he scoffs, his jaw clenching. ‘you think i give a damn about what people say? i want you. that’s it.’

you look up at him, searching his face for something, understanding, patience, anything to make this easier. but all you see is frustration and something deeper, something that scares you.

‘kenan…’ your voice is soft, uncertain.

‘no. i’m tired of this, babe.’ his hands tighten on your waist like he’s afraid you’ll slip away just like every other morning. ‘i want you there. i want you to be able to post a picture of us without thinking twice. i want to hold your hand in public without looking over my shoulder.’

you want that too. god, you do. but it’s not that simple. it’s never been that simple.

‘please,’ he says, voice lower now. ‘come to my game.’

you don’t answer. you just press a kiss to his jaw and step back, reaching for your bag. ‘i’ll see you later, kenan.’

he watches as you leave, jaw tight, hands clenched into fists like he’s fighting the urge to chase after you. but he doesn’t. he never does.

two days later.

you’ve been avoiding the topic. every time your phone lights up with kenan’s name, you hesitate before answering, knowing exactly what he wants to say.

then, out of nowhere, your dad calls.

‘thought i’d come visit for a few days,’ he says casually. ‘been a while since i saw you. figured we could catch up, and… oh, i got us tickets to that big juventus match. i know you don’t care much, but come on, it’ll be fun.’

your heart stops.

kenan’s game.

the universe has a twisted sense of humor.

when you text kenan, your hands are shaking, half from nerves, half from something else.

you’re getting your wish. i’ll be at the game. no one will suspect a thing.

his reply is instant.

finally.

match day.

the stadium is packed, the energy electric. cameras flash everywhere, fans wave banners, the roar of the crowd vibrates through your chest. you sit next to your dad, pretending this is just another game, just another night. but it’s not. you know it. and kenan knows it too.

you try not to look for him, but it’s impossible. every time he gets the ball, every time he makes a play, you feel his presence like gravity pulling you in. and then, in a moment so brief you almost think you imagined it, he looks up, right at you.

you don’t breathe.

he smirks. just for a second. just for you.

then the screen shifts.

your face. your dad’s. plastered across the big screen for the entire stadium to see.

your stomach drops.

your dad laughs, nudging your arm. ‘guess they like seeing an old legend in the crowd, huh?’

you force a smile, but your pulse is racing.

the internet moves fast. by the time the game ends, pictures are everywhere, sports pages, football accounts, gossip sites. ex-player’s stunning daughter spotted at big match. the comments flood in. admiration. curiosity. and then… attention. the kind you didn’t want.

your notifications blow up. blue check accounts start following you. some of them are footballers, bold enough to slip into your dms, dropping fire emojis, compliments, invitations.

and kenan?

he’s livid.

later that night.

you’re in your apartment when he shows up, not even bothering to knock.

‘so that’s what it takes for you to show up at one of my games? your dad bringing you?’ his voice is sharp, but underneath it, there’s something else. jealousy. frustration. something that makes your chest tighten.

you cross your arms, shifting your weight. ‘kenan, don’t—’

‘don’t what? act like i didn’t see how many guys suddenly started following you? or how you ignored my texts but had time to post?’

‘oh my god, are you serious right now?’ you let out a short, humorless laugh. ‘this is exactly why i didn’t want us to go public. the second people know, it becomes a thing.’

he steps closer, his jaw clenched. ‘this isn’t about people knowing. it’s about you acting like you don’t want to be seen with me.’

that hits harder than you expect. you open your mouth, then close it, unsure what to say.

kenan shakes his head. ‘you think hiding protects us, but all it does is push me away.’

you swallow hard, because deep down, you know he’s right.

‘you’re mine,’ he says, voice lower now, rough with emotion. ‘and i want people to know that. so tell me right now. do you want this or not?’

the answer is easy. it’s always been easy.

you step closer, press your hands to his chest, feel his heartbeat pounding beneath your fingertips. ‘of course i want this, kenan.’

his lips crash into yours before you can say anything else, months of frustration, longing, and unspoken words pouring into the kiss. he backs you against the wall, hands firm on your waist, like he’s trying to make up for every second he’s had to pretend you weren’t his.

when you finally pull away, breathless, he smirks. ‘good. because next time i look up in the stands, you better be there, and not because your dad brought you.’

you roll your eyes, but you’re smiling. ‘fine. but if i show up, i’m wearing your jersey.’

kenan grins, hands still tight on your waist. ‘now that’s what i like to hear.’

[ahsoka-in-a-hood]

You say that, but there are several lines in tcw that make me think there was an existing democratic system, even if it's not straightforward. It's firmly established that Satine's mandate comes from a democratic mandate, but even deathwatch, half of whom literally believe in rulership by right of combat, don't believe they can rule mandalore without winning an election first, and even in their internal affairs Pre specifically mentions needing to put a policy decision to a vote. So I draw conclusions from these things.

But 'democratic tradition' does cover a fair range of things, and dynasties tend to crop up like mushrooms. And there is clearly a dynastic tradition in Mandalore.

Jango becomes the leader of the true mandalorians (trivia note: this comic is so old they're called the mandalorians in it, and there may not have been a state of mandalore at the time it was written?? i'm confused about the irl timeline. they were later retconned as 'true' mandalorians to distinguish them from all the other mandalorians i guess) because the people in that small group chose him. This is an important distinction, given that we are talking about whether it makes sense for that to transfer to the far larger planetary system of Mandalore depicted by later writers. My problem is that I can marry the true mandalorians depicted in the comics with the larger mandalorian system depicted in the show - but only if I ignore the fanon. But i live in a society (fandom) and I'm really a little fond of fanon Jaster, so it's a bummer for me that it never makes sense. the only way it makes sense to me is that they were popular cult figures who never actually ran for election or anything like that, but they could have taken on a mythic status as guys outside the system. (i could write an entire tangent on how the show The Mandalorian fits here but i'd be here all night).

So yeah. Faction leader, who wasn't really trying to rule all of mandalore, who may or may not have been a cult figure especially after his death. This is a way I can mash together the comic and the show and the fanon - by making the fanon into in-universe fanon. It works in my head.

( I don't know what you are referring to with your fourth paragraph.)

To be clear I wasn't making a statement of what Jaster would have actually done if he had defeated Deathwatch. His character in the comics (and this entire post is about characterizing him exclusively based on the comics, so I better not break my own rule) he is kind and sentimental enough to take in an orphan who's parents just died defending him, a stranger, but is also ruthless enough to treat slaughtering "poorly armed native" insurrectionists on behalf of random horrible government number whatever as "easy credits". He also killed a fellow cop one time before going into mercenary work. So I think a few heads rolling is plausible. But I was commenting on fic I've read, really. They're usually written by his fans, and they tend to have him deal with deathwatch with some severity. Executions, dissolving clan Vizla entirely , that kind of thing. The irony just comes from these things often being written by the exact same people who call Satine a tyrant.

Your final point got me thinking... this is all academic since executing her enemies is... not in character for Satine to begin with, to the point where she straight up told the love of her life that she would not be speaking to him at all if he'd killed a guy who just tried to bomb her, but I still want to challenge the idea that she would have necessarily been able to execute deathwatch if she'd wanted to. Just because.

To be able to simply execute deathwatch leaders, she would have needed to be in a position of absolute power over them, since people tend to fight back when you try to exterminate them. Unsurprisingly. So already that assumes she has a great deal of power, and enough military force of her own to have either thoroughly defeated deathwatch or keep fighting a war against deathwatch. Satine had been protected by a jedi at her lowest, but pre-war jedi customs apply here, so "I cannot fight a war for you, I can only protect you" - Qui Gon in TPM. She had the backing of the Mandalorian protectors, which is significant, but deathwatch is also well-armed. So you have to consider the possibility that being more forceful means... more war.

Which brings me to: did she have a mandate to make more war? We don't know, but I wouldn't assume she did. Satine is not a warlord pretty much by definition, and her position is making peace not war. She got her power via public support, same as she lost it. 'make peace not war, but first a little bit more war just a little bit promise' isn't the platform she ran on. Maybe she would have had less support. Maybe the mandalorian protectors would have wondered what's different about this one, really. Maybe instead of uniting, Mandalore would have fractured again. This is pure speculation, mind, but it's just as possible as anything else. Maybe if she'd kept warring she would have just lost. To deathwatch. Possible! They had to have been on the backfoot if they agreed to terms, so I don't assume they would have won either, but you never know.

Mostly, it's just her themes. She's there to espouse the viewpoint of pursuing diplomacy over war, not the theme of clemency. (...I feel the need to add that I don't think the narrative presents her as right- or wrong, either. She's a foil to obi wan's warring and the conclusion is that they're both going to lose anyway because diplomacy vs war is not actually what the story is about) Therefore I think her position in the past being about choosing diplomacy over war is more thematically satisfying than it being a matter of choosing clemency. This is a story first and it follows story rules.

Is there anything else... yes, it's that a 15 year ceasefire is still an achievement, to me. They got to rebuild. A whole generation of Mandalorian children got to grow up without the kind of random brutality that orphaned Jango Fett. It isn't nothing. And if not for the empire, maybe it would have lasted longer than that. And it's not like killing the opposition would have necessarily led to a longer peace anyway.

I belong to a very small gang of friends who base Jaster Mereel exclusively off the open season comics. (Even though those comics kinda suck). I actually have absolutely no idea where the concept of Mand'alor Jaster comes from. Could be from a book. Could be from an ao3 fic. Who knows? Not me.

[rivereverie]

Astarion and learned cruelty (spoilers)

As always, this is all just my interpretation of the character. Feel free to disagree. 

I love the writing choice to make Astarion genuinely immoral at first. They could have easily pulled the overwrought trope of "I only pretend to be evil because I'm traumatized. I'm really just a sad little guy who wouldn’t hurt anyone". Now I do believe his behavior is a direct result of his trauma, but I'll get to that in a minute. The point is that he does genuinely relish in violence, although his actions will be swayed by whichever moral direction the player decides to go. But he does enjoy combat, spilling blood, and even some more cruel and unusual things. However, what makes this so interesting and rich is that this is a learned mindset.

I think that a lot of people don't acknowledge that going into act 1, Astarion has just come out of a situation where he was quite literally forced to participate in horrific crimes, with severe consequences if he refused. That absolutely does not excuse the fact that he's okay with if not outright enthusiastic about murder, but we do see that he was not always this way (e.g., he tried at least once to let a target go because he couldn't bring himself to take them to Cazador). I just think it's worth acknowledging that that mindset was the product of centuries of torment and active overt and covert conditioning. He became who Cazador wanted him to be; who he had to be in order to survive. Astarion and Karlach are two sides of a coin in this regard, in that they represent opposite responses to trauma and loss of autonomy. Karlach was forced into martial servitude, which in my opinion explains why she's still kind of bloodthirsty even though she's such a good and kind person bent on protecting others. She's shaped by the role she was forced into, and it's the same with Astarion. Again, not to say he isn't morally dubious, but there's a big difference between someone evil and someone who was never allowed to be "good" suddenly being thrust back into freedom and forced to figure things out.

To a degree, I do also think that his over-the-top declarations of his love for violence are another piece of his mask. Just like with his feigned hedonism and sexual forwardness, he's trying to hold power over people by controlling their perception of him (as well as his own self-perception). He's holding a big sign that says "I'm selfish and evil, and you shouldn't like me unless you are too", when really he's not anywhere near as selfish and evil as he pretends to be. He does this in part to keep people at arm's length, but also to convince himself; to craft his own reality wherein he is the person he needs to be to get through this situation. His worldview has been warped to see domination and control as synonymous with strength, and so he's being strong in the way he knows how. As the story progresses with a good player on his side, he's beginning to learn how to be something better. And that's why it takes time: because he's unlearning 200 years of conditioning and survival instincts.

It's worth talking about that it's not unheard of for abusers to force victims to participate in the abuse of others. I think that representing that experience in this game is important and valuable. We should all walk the line between holding these kinds of survivors accountable for what is appropriate, and to offer them oceans of understanding and empathy for them over what they were forced into. Even if Astarion weren't magically forced to do Cazador's bidding, I hope that we all could still understand the power that abusers hold over their victims, empathize with him, and see that those actions were an extension of Cazador, not himself.

Official D&D definitions of "evil" aside, I don't think he's ever truly evil unless he goes down the evil route with the player and/or ascends (Ascended Astarion is a whole other can of worms I’m not going to get into in this post). By the end of the spawn storyline, Astarion does have a lot more concern and care for others, and most importantly, he takes responsibility. To me, that shows profound strength and goodness. He's never a saint, but in my opinion he's never really evil, either. He's still learning how to live in a world where he doesn't need to be cruel in order to survive. 

Concerning the early access backstory about him being a "corrupt magistrate", it's up to the individual how to headcanon that information. Personally, I think he was probably a little self-interested, but not evil by any means. I think he was probably just a pretty normal person before Cazador, not predisposed to cruelty.

In summary, I think it’s important to talk about what makes people “bad”, especially in the context of the cycle of abuse and victimization. In Astarion’s case, much of his taste for cruelty came from implicit conditioning over his years of being forced to hurt others. There are a number of lines from him during the dungeon/crypt sequence where he keeps insisting, defensively and desperately, that he didn’t have a choice in bringing victims back to Cazador. That it was all on his orders and he couldn’t say no. This might come across to some as him trying to shirk blame, but the thing is… he’s right. He didn't have a choice, other than death, but I think Cazador would deny him even that. He wanted to make his spawn into obedient tools, but also to break them. To make them an extension of his own monstrous cruelty. But in the end, Astarion takes responsibility as best he can, and begins to forgive himself for being a part of Cazador’s evil. This is part of what makes the line “I am so much more than what you made me” so powerful.

[glitterandwitchcraft]

🔮 Do you want to get into dream divination? 🔮

It can be tricky especially trying to force yourself to remember your dreams and every little detail. I've been doing this for my whole life (my parents and their parents and so on view dreams as potential messages from the ancestors and/or god) so I have a few tricks to help you get started!

You don't need to force yourself to remember everything or anything at all. If there is something important, you will remember it upon waking.

At first, picking out what is just the product of electrified goo resting and messages will be really hard. Not everything in your dream has a meaning and not every dream has a message.

Once you start getting the hang of it, while you dream you will get a certain feeling when something happens and that's how you know that it's important for your waking life. For me, the feeling when faced with a symbol or message is when you recognize someone strongly but can't place them or remember anything about them.

If you tell people that you do this, they will 100% message you about all their dreams they think may hold meaning expecting you to decipher every little aspect. This is fun a lot of times but just learn boundaries and such as it can become frustrating trying to do everything in your daily life plus figure out a highly personal message for someone else.

Don't rely on standardized meanings for everything. Some things have different personal meanings for you. If it's your own dream, your feelings and attachments to that thing ALWAYS apply before a standardized meaning does. For example, I've always loved keys. I used to go look for random keys all the time as a kid. Traditionally a key means there's something you need to unlock or find. For me, a key would represent childlike wonder, curiosity, holding onto something, finding something, or taking something.

Get a notebook or a physical dream dictionary so you can write down the symbols and the dates they occurred. Doing this can help you figure out if there's repeating themes. Repeating themes could indicate that you are not taking proper action, you aren't seeing the message correctly, that it isn't a symbol at all and just something your brain likes to dream about, or you have a repeating stressor in your life.

Be prepared for tons of resources to use heavily gendered and mystical definitions. If a definition/meaning does not connect with you then don't use it as it does not apply to you.

There are a ton of scam websites when you first start looking. And there are a bunch that just plagiarize from other websites (literally copy and paste word for word). If you need help deciphering what something means, I recommend getting a grasp on what if means to you and what you felt in the dream when you came across it before having to go through 1,000 sources to help you further.

Most people who do dream divination are more than happy to assist you in breaking down meanings. Feel free to send me a message at any time!

Not all symbols are applicable at the time of reception. The more complicated the meaning or message, usually the longer until you need it. The universe, spirits, God, whatever you believe is giving you the message, should be giving you plenty of time to figure out what something means and being able to use it before the message is needed. Don't stress yourself out by thinking your life is going to be a chaotic disaster tomorrow because you dreamed of swimming in big waves in a storm. You have time.

As with any divination, the future is always subject to change with any action you take. And never use divination for health matters and the like.

[notsp1derman]

an hyperfixated review of the apothecary diaries season one, by natsu hyuuga

First, I just wanted to say that I NEVER expected I would be here talking about this. I started Apothecary Diaries with the same jaded tiredness of someone who doesn't consider themselves an otaku anymore, so it has to be an EVENT for an anime to be truly enjoyable. After some time I just got bored of all the isekai and harems, shallow self insert characters, braindead action and hypersexualization of women, so you can imagine how often I watch something that has come out recently.

But this thing has consumed my life and my thoughts. It has made me go through a rabbit hole of ancient chinese history and culture, and I actually can't get enough of it. Apothecary Diaries managed to do a very rare feat in the chaotic anime industry: cover all its bases brilliantly. There's the perfect amount of everything a well-thought story needs: an incredible animation, deep and believable characters, an intriguing plot without any apparent holes, solid worldbuilding and just the right touch of social issues to make you think.

In an unnamed empire totally not a copy-paste of ancient China, we follow the story of Maomao, a poor apothecary's apprentice that gets kidnapped and sold to the imperial palace to work as a servant. But soon, her abilities of reading and writing (rare for a peasant) and poisonous plants get her noticed by Jinshi, an eunuch responsible for overseeing the famous inner palace: the garden of women where the concubines of the emperor live. Maomao then starts working as a food tester for one of the four most important concubines, to ensure she isn't poisoned in the politics of the palace, but ends up getting roped into more complex challenges and mysterious events.

Despite the clever plots and solutions in each episode, the true star of the show is the character of Maomao herself. She is a brillant example of a smart female protagonist, perfectly capable of solving problems because of her love for her job but still with her flaws and peculiarities that only make her more endearing. She is calculating and detached, but still shows a great knowledge of the inner palace's hierarchy, keeping her posture but discreetly helping people how she can.

Maomao is THE perfect example of a girls girl, and every other media should learn from her character. She has a strong personality and doesn't really like appearing too feminine or demure, but it doesn't stop her from being kind to her peers, helping the concubines and servants alike and never judging them for placing so much importance on their sexuality, despite not being interested in these affairs herself.

And despite having strong morals, Maomao is also keenly aware of her place in society as a poor woman. She know how insignificant she is to those in power, but instead of making rash decisions she works around the system. And this makes her the perfect counterpart to the other great reason to watch this anime: Jinshi.

Jinshi is an eunuch that supervises the inner palace, always butting himself in every problem to make sure the concubines are taken care of. He is a man born with everything: well-spoken and smart, signs of a great education; clearly high ranked, which makes him rich and powerful; an ethereal beauty that captivates every woman in the palace and loyal servants at his beck and call.

So when Jinshi discovers Maomao's great knowledge and usefulness, he is quick to think of her as another pawn to do as he says. He couldn't be more wrong. As they solve mysteries and develop a tenuous friendship, both of them are forced to change their perspectives: Jinshi is shocked to see a woman that doesn't fall for his charms and starts to truly admire Maomao as a person, and Maomao learns to trust a bit more and not judge a person by their status.

This whole ordeal leads to some of the funniest scenes I've seen in some time, and truly one of the nicest relationships I've seen lately. It helps a lot that Jinshi respects Maomao's intelligence and trusts her judgement, but his worry about her ingesting some unknown poison is very cute too lol

The side characters are adorable too, specially Maomao's sisters and how they treat her like a baby, and everyone has their space to shine. I think my only critique would be that the concubines are still too much sexualized. I believe firmly that you can have characters that show their sexuality without having to have giant boobs barely covered, specially in a historical context. But I know how Japan's anime industry works, and if this was the least they could pander to a male audience, I'll take what I can get.

Overall, even if all of this isn't enough to catch your attention, I would recommend Apothecary Diaries just for the insane animation it has. The colors are beautiful, the movements are fluid and there are scenes I kept replaying because of how well scripted they were. This is an unexpected gem lost among the slop, and I can only hope it keeps going strong in this second season!

★★★★★ ♡

[ilidaeandquill]

All Is Fair in Death and War - Character Analysis/Notes

Narinder - Anger

For the sake of my sanity, we’re going to pretend this gif primarily focuses on Narinder.

Quick fun fact: On my Goat/Extra Hard save file, Narinder got the Jerk trait (which I refuse to correct for obvious reason). I'm going to make any and all interactions with him as a jerk canon in AIFiDaW.

So anyway here's him bullying Goatfrey for their crush on Shamura before he steals their money (I know my cult is ugly I'm redecorating it).

(Keep reading for character breakdown) First Chapter: All Is Fair in Death and War - Chapter 1 - IlidaeAndQuill - Cult of the Lamb (Video Game) [Archive of Our Own] (THANK YOU SO MUCH FOR 1,000 HITS FLMGKDSNG - If you read it, I hope you enjoy!!)

Primary Motivation: Narinder has two opposing character motivations: to reclaim a semblance of divinity without the Red Crown, and to assure the safety of his traveling disciples Baal and Aym. These two motivations directly contrast each other, and with the additional plotline created from rescuing the Bishops, he struggles to decide which one to prioritize. Lots of internal conflict with this one.

Character Traits: Prudish af. Concise with his 'work' (killing, he's literally just killing people) but sees no reason to assist others without probable payment. The sting of his betrayal, both from the Lamb and his siblings, runs too deep.

Theme Songs (Lyrical): "Death" - Matthew K Heafy, Sean Long & Mike Malyan, "you should see me in a crown" - Billie Eilish, "Gladiator" - Jann Theme Songs (Instrumental): "Sins of Hyrule" - ROZEN, "Aurora in Faerieland" - James Newton Howard Additional Narilamb song from his p.o.v. because the devs did it and I want to too: "LET THE WORLD BURN" - Chris Grey

Voice Claim: Cobra Bubbles - Lilo and Stitch Dialogue Pattern: He speaks formally when he's focused but gets sloppy with his dialogue as he loses himself to anger/irritation.

Outfit Inspiration: Regal and stealthy - a true assassin's garb. Most of his clothes are stolen, as he refuses to wear the cultist uniform given by Lambert. He does prefer heavy robes but sticks to lighter garments for crusades/daily activity.

Narinder is a strong supporting character (and if we want to get technical, he's Lambert's love interest, but I hate assigning that title to characters - I don't want a character's romantic plotline to determine their importance in a story) and the primary representation of the Anger stage of grief. This is seen through his personality traits/reactions to story events, but also through his pyromancy. His fire, representing his anger, literally burns him alive every time he uses it. He must learn/develop a way to safely use it, or risk losing himself to his rage.

Additionally: his anger is represented through the fact that he is angry at the world/fate. With my own grief, I often get angry, thinking it "wasn't fair" that my dog, of all creatures, got heart disease and died young. I portray this same anger through Narinder. His imprisonment wasn't fair. His loss of godhood wasn't fair. And, the unconscious, yet most important thing, is what happened to Baal and Aym was not fair.

"Ratau turned to watch the sparing brothers again. His fingers curled around his hands, nails digging far into his flesh. “Yes, but… This is inhumane. My lord, they know how to fight! We both see that! Be fair with them, please.”

“If the world was fair, none of us would be here.” The One Who Waits flicked his hand, and Ratau disappeared to his mortal realm." - That whole segment comes from his anger - it's not fucking fair what happened to the three of them. And oooohhhh writing that anger for him is soooooo satisfying.

Random Trivia/Facts: - Despite his regal tastes, Narinder's favorite food is plain baked salmon (with some spices ofc I'm not a monster). - Narinder was the first character I was able to give a distinct motivation. His internal conflict between reclaiming godhood and setting his disciples free was way too intriguing; I had to develop that first. - That said, the only way for him to add to the theme/move towards acceptance is if he goes against his initial desire of reclaiming divinity to help the ones he cares for. This is to say that I, the author, am trying to balance his development like a fucking tightrope walker. - KLEPTOMANIAC (If only for petty reasons). - He might be a pyromaniac too idk. - In "Yngya's Repose," Narinder fell in love with the Lamb shortly before their destined duel over the crown. In AIFiDaW, Narinder is still (somewhat) in love with the Lamb, he is just too angry to let himself feel anything other than the hurt of betrayal. - To add to that: In the scene where Narinder falls for the Lamb (Year 3: Autumn) - he specifically falls in love with Lambert because they were kind to Baal and Aym. There were a few other factors outside that, but seeing Lambert treat his disciples as their own was the final push he needed to fully fall in love. - And then he had to fight them to the death isn't that fun? :) - Narinder's parenting teaching style with Baal and Aym is largely inspired by Moro and San (Princess Mononoke) and Maleficent and Aurora (Maleficent).

Thank you for reading! Narinder is a super complex character; my only hope is that I give him the writing he deserves. He is, of course, featured in "All Is Fair in Death and War," but his primary appearance is in the short prequel to that: "Yngya's Repose." I hope to make a podfic of that story soon so people who don't have the time/ability to sit down and read it can still enjoy the story :)

Theme

The Goat/Goatfrey - Narinder - The Lamb/Lambert - The Curse

Leshy - Heket - Kallamar - Shamura

Jalala - Rinor - Fena - Aym & Baal - The Mystic Seller

[erithel]

Hi! Happy birthday! (If it still is in your timezone, and if it's not - happy belated birthday!)

Seeing your latest post, i wanted to tell you how much your fics, comics and art in general changed my life.

Reading your fics got me through the hardest times of my life. It's written to a degree so high it's astonishing. No fic i have ever read has made me feel the way yours did. Each and every one of them - even the unfinished ones - are so important. To me and so many others who have read them.

The things you write about, the angsty, sad and angry parts of life many are afraid of - they make processing the accidents that happened in your readers' lives so much better. Reading the characters letting their feelings out, reading them talk about the harsh truths, is what makes doing it in real life so much easier. It makes it less frightening.

Through your fics i learned how to communicate so many problems and difficulties in the last two years of my life, i genuinely don't think i would be alive today without them.

Your art has made a place in my heart at least 3 years ago. Your art has been a lighthouse in a dark, dark ocean. Always saving the lives of so many.

Your art-style, your comics, are some of my favorites. It's so beautiful, and it's so delicate - every detail perfected to a fault. The plot in your comics is, in my opinion, on par with the plot of your fics. Every plot twist is masterfully crafted, each word impactful. The characters never lacking in any way.

Your effort is showing in ever comic page, in every new chapter of your fics. It's been a pleasure to follow your art for so long, seeing the new things you tried. It's never invisible, never wasted. The thought you put into every single piece of any form of art is appreciated, and very viable.

Your art is never going to be replaced as long as people buy and read it, and i know it's never going to be replaced because i am one of those people. I will always be exited to see your url on my notifications, never mind the state i'm in or how uninterested i am in the fandom at that point in time.

Your art saves lives, and it's not going to stop doing that. Never.

Thank you for continuously putting out your art, even at times when you felt like giving up on it.

I hope this made you feel a little better about yourself in that regard. Your existence itself, and not just the art you put out, is important and appreciated. By many. Please never stop doing what you love as long as it's not hurting you.

I had to sit on this message for a bit just to process it.

Now, I think I want to say three things in response.

This is incredibly meaningful and the fact that you took the time to type this all out means the world to me.

I hope that you are okay. Obviously since this is posted anonymously, I cannot reach out to you directly or privately, but learning how to process emotions and communicate issues is such a tough road sometimes. It's one I'm learning to do, myself, and I am so happy to hear that you are learning what works for you. Progress might not feel like it's there at times, but it is there, I promise.

Everything that's been written here should be validating for anyone who writes or reads fan content. Personally, I have always written stories that hold personal importance to me, and I know I am not alone. A lot of people use fanfiction as not only an escape but as a means of catharsis. It feels more personal, in a way, than some traditionally publishes books or widely available shows/movies. And it makes sense because people aren't writing about things that will do well in the market at the time, they are writing about things they truly want to write about. Things that often hold deep, emotional meaning to them, and they are simply using the form of already established characters to convey those things. Creating fanfiction can often feel like something not to be taken seriously (and, to be fair, there are those who truly just do it for fun). But I know I need to remember — and others probably need to remember, too — that you never know who might find your story at the exact time they need to read it. You never know how much these things might stick with someone, or what they could mean to someone other than yourself. Thank you for reminding me that even though these fan creations aren't taken seriously by so many, the chance that they might actually have an impact on even one person is the thing that matters.

[gingermintpepper]

As usual I read your tags always and so you said Apollo did not ask for resurrection of Asclepius and Hyacinthus so i just wanted to share this. About Asclepius death I read it on theoi.com, that earlier authors don't make him resurrect as a god but that's a later development mentioned only by Roman authors like Cicero, Hyginus and Ovid. But still Apollo has a role in Ovid's version

Ovid, Fasti 6. 735 ff (trans.Boyle) (Roman poetry C1st B.C. to C1st A.D.) : Clymenus [Haides] and Clotho resent the threads of life respun and death's royal rights diminished. Jove [Zeus] feared the precedent and aimed his thunderbolt at the man who employed excessive art. Phoebus [Apollon], you whined. He is a god; smile at your father, who, for your sake, undoes his prohibitions [i.e. when he obtains immortality for Asklepios].

So here it is actually because of Apollo the decision was taken to resurrect him as god. And with Hyacinthus, I don't think I've read about Artemis playing the primary role. I know in Sparta there was a picture of Artemis, Athena and Aphrodite carrying Hyacinthus and his sister to heaven.

This is not on theoi.com but I saw on Tumblr it's from Dionysiaca by Nonnus

Second, my lord Oiagros wove a winding lay, as the father of Orpheus who has the Muse his boon companion. Only a couple of verses he sang, a ditty of Phoibos, clearspoken in few words after some Amyclaian style: Apollo brought to life again his longhaired Hyacinthos: Staphylos will be made to live for aye by Dionysos.

So since he is singing inspired by amyclean stories it probably means in that place it was believed Apollo was the one to bring back his lover to life.

Apollo as god of order was very important so i think it shows how special these people (and admetus too) were to him that he decided to go against the order for them 🥺

ANON!! Shakes you like a bottle of ramune!! BELOVED ANON!!!!! I'm littering your face with kisses, I'm anointing you with olive oil and honey - you absolutely made my night with this because, not only did I get the pure serotonin shot of having someone interact with my tags (yippee, wahoo!!) I also got to have that wonderful feeling of "oh wow, have I misunderstood something that was integral to my understanding of this myth/figure this whole time or is this a case of interpretational differences?" which is imo vital for my aims and interests as someone who enjoys mythological content and literature.

I'll preface my response with this: Hyacinthus is by far the hardest of these to get accounts for because his revival itself, as you very astutely point out, is generally accounted for in painting/ritual format which muddies the waters on who interceded for what. I wasn't actually familiar with that passage from the Argonautica - and certainly didn't remember it so thank you very much for bringing it to my attention!

That said, what I've come to understand, both about Hyacinthus and about Asclepius is that in the accounts of their deaths, Apollo's position is startlingly clear.

For Hyacinthus, it is established time and again that Apollo would have sacrificed everything for him - his status, his power, his very own immortality and divinity. Ovid writes that Apollo would have installed him as a god if only he had the time:

(Ovid. Metamorphoses. Book X. trans. Johnston)

Many other writers too speak of how Apollo abandoned his lyre and his seat at Delphi to spend his days with Hyacinthus, but they also all agree that when it came to his death - he was powerless. Ovid gives that graphic account of Apollo's desperation as he tries all his healing arts to save him to no avail:

(Ovid, Metamorphoses Book X. Apollo me boy, methinks him dead. trans Johnston)

Bion, in one of his fragments, writes that Apollo was "dumb" upon seeing Hyacinthus' agony:

(Bion, The Bucolic Poets. Fragment XI. trans Edmonds)

Even Nonnus in the Dionysiaca speaks constantly of Apollo's helplessness in the face of Hyacinthus' fate where he writes that the god still shivers if a westward wind blows upon an iris:

and when Zephyros breathed through the flowery garden, Apollo turned a quick eye upon his young darling, his yearning never satisfied; if he saw the plant beaten by the breezes, he remembered the quoit, and trembled for fear the wind, so jealous once about the boy, might hate him even in a leaf...

(Nonnus, Dionysiaca, Book 3. trans Rouse)

And the point here is just that - Apollo, at least as far as I've read, cannot avert someone's death. He simply can't. Once they're already dead - once Fate has cut their string - all Apollo's power is gone and he can do nothing no matter how much he wants to. And this is, as far as I know, supported with the accounts of Asclepius as well!

Since you specifically brought up Ovid's account, I'll also stick only to Ovid's account but in Metamorphoses when we get Ovid's version of Coronis' demise, he writes that Apollo intensely and immediately regrets slaughtering Coronis. He regrets it so intensely that he, like he does with Hyacinthus, does his best to resuscitate her:

(Ovid, Metamorphoses Book Two. Apollo's regret)

And like Hyacinthus, when it becomes clear that what has happened cannot be undone, Apollo wails:

(Ovid, Metamorphoses Book Two. Apollo wept.)

Unlike his mother, Asclepius in her womb had not yet died and so, with the last of Apollo's strength, he does manage, at least, to save him.

(Ovid, Metamorphoses Book Two. Apollo puts the 'tearing out' in Asclepius.)

But it goes further than even that because Ocyrhoe, Chiron's daughter, a prophetess who unduly gained the ability to directly proclaim the secrets of the Fates, upon seeing the baby Asclepius, immediately prophesies his glory, his inevitable death and then his fated ascension:

(Ovid. Metamorphoses, Book Two. Ocyrhoe's prophecy. trans Johnston)

Before she too succumbs to her hubris and is transformed by the Fates into a horse so she can no longer speak secrets that aren't hers to share.

These things ultimately are important because it establishes two very important things: 1) Apollo can't do anything in the face of the ultimate Fate of mortals, which is, of course, death and 2) even when Apollo is Actively Devastated, regretful, yearning, mournful, guilty or some unholy combination of all of the above, when someone is dead, he accepts that they are gone. Even if he is devastated by it, even if he'll cry all the rest of his days about it - if they're dead? Apollo lets them go. In Fasti, when Zeus brings Asclepius back, he does not say Apollo asked him to - Zeus, or well, in this case Jove, brings Asclepius back because he wants Apollo to stop being mad at him.

(Ovid, Fasti VI. Apollo please come home your father misses you. trans. A.S Kline)

Even Boyle's translation which you used above in your findings hints that Zeus made Asclepius a god because he wanted Apollo to stop grieving. (i.e 'smile at your father', 'for your sake [he] undoes his prohibitions')

And like, Apollo was deeply upset by Asclepius' death - apart from killing the Cyclops in anger, in book 4 of the Argonautica, Apollonius writes that the Celts believe the stream of Eridanus to be the tears Apollo shed over the death of Asclepius when he left for Hyperborea after being chastised by Zeus for killing his Cyclops:

But the Celts have attached this story to them, that these are the tears of Leto's son, Apollo, that are borne along by the eddies, the countless tears that he shed aforetime when he came to the sacred race of the Hyperboreans and left shining heaven at the chiding of his father, being in wrath concerning his son whom divine Coronis bare in bright Lacereia at the mouth of Amyrus.

It all paints a very clear picture to me. Apollo did not ask for either of them to be brought back. Though bringing them back certainly pleased and delighted him, they are actions of other gods who are moved by Apollo's grief and mourning and seek to mollify him. Him not asking doesn't mean he didn't want them back which I think is a very important distinction by the by, but it simply means that Apollo knows the natural order of things and, even if it hurts, he isn't going to press his luck about it.

Which, of course, brings us to Admetus. And I'm really not going to overcomplicate this, Admetus is different because, very vitally, Admetus is not dead. Apollo can't do a thing once Fate has been carried out and Death has claimed a mortal but you know what he absolutely can do? Bargain like hell with the Fates before that point of inevitability. And that's what he does, ultimately for Admetus and Alcestis. He sought to prolong Admetus' life, not revive him from death or absolve him from death altogether and even after getting the Fates drunk, he's still only able to organise a sacrifice - a life for a life - something completely contingent on whether some other mortal would be willing to die in Admetus' place and not at all controllable by Apollo's own power.

All of these things, I think come back to that point you made - that Apollo's place as a god of order is very important and therefore these people are very special to him if it means he's willing to go against that order but, I also wish to challenge that opinion if you'd let me. Apollo's place as a god of order is very important and therefore, I would argue, that it is even more important that it is shown that he does not break the divine order, especially for the people that mean the most to him. The original context of my comments which started this conversation were on this lovely, lovely post by @hyacinthusmemorial which contemplated upon Asclepius from the perspective of an Emergency Medical personnel and included, in their tags, the very poignant lines "there's something about Apollo letting go when Asclepius couldn't that eats my heart away" and "you do what you can, you do your best, but you don't ever reach too far" and I think that's perfectly embodied with the Apollo-Asclepius dichotomy. Apollo grieves. He wails, he cries, he does his best each and every time to save that which is precious to him but he does not curse their nature, he does not resent that they are human and ultimately, he accepts that that which is mortal must inevitably die. There is nothing that so saliently proves that those who uphold rules are also their most staunch followers - if Apollo wants to delight in his place as Fate's mouthpiece, he cannot undo Fate. And, if even the god of healing and order himself cannot undo death, what right does Asclepius, mortal as he is, talented as he is, have to disrespect it?

The beauty of these stories isn't that Apollo loved them enough to bring them back. The beauty is that Apollo loved them enough to let them go.

[feroluce]

For reasons to be expanded upon at a later date (because I love the little bits about Boothill and possible paranoia/betrayal canon gives us so very dearly HNGH) I think Boothill like... He won't let himself fall into disrepair or anything of course, but he reeeeeeeeeeally does not like letting other people poke around at his body. It's a necessary evil to him. He does whatever maintenance and repairs he can himself. He started out with a massive knowledge deficit, simply because he didn't really have any exposure to that kind of technology until he left Aeragan-Epharshal, but he's taught himself a lot since then, he worked really hard at it!

Anyway, the point being, Boothill generally isn't super trusting of people.

But I think he would come to make an exception for Himeko, since he trusts Dan Heng a lot, and Himeko is one of Dan Heng's once-in-a-lifetime dearly beloved companions.

Himeko is so unflappable, I don't think she would even bat an eye about anything he throws at her, either. Like she enters the Parlor Car one morning (she's always the first one up) and Boothill is already there, waiting for her.

"Mornin', Madam Navigator."

"Good morning, Mr. Boothill."

And despite the fact that he blatantly broke into the Express (Pom-Pom is NOT happy about this JDKSAJDSKL), Boothill tips his hat, greets her politely, and is nothing but respectful when he says he has a favor to ask of her. Except it won't stay a favor long, of course- he has every intention of paying it back.

Himeko never agrees to things blindly, but she does bring up that all the knowledge Boothill contributed during the Charmony Festival was essential to preventing the universe from being pulled into Ena's Dream. And they were able to hold onto the Jade Abacus because Boothill used Tiernan's burial relic to summon the Galaxy Rangers instead. The Astral Express owes him a debt of gratitude, and besides, he's a friend of Dan Heng's. Of course she'll try to help him.

Boothill fidgets a bit, quickly brushes off the thanks, and tells Himeko he's having a problem with error codes. He keeps getting the same one, seemingly at random times, but the darn thing has no obvious cause. Dan Heng mentioned Himeko had been the one to rebuild the Astral Express. He knows it ain't the same, but it's not like he's askin' for any major repairs or nothin'. He was wonderin' if she could just take a look, maybe offer him some insight, since she seems to be somethin' of a mechanical wonder.

So Himeko walks him back to a another car, where she goes to tinker with machines without them crowding her bedroom. It's all neatly laid out and organized, and it only takes a second for Himeko to locate some specific device with a long cord. Instead of plugging it in herself, she holds the end of it out to him, like an offer rather than a demand, and Boothill visibly relaxes a bit. He still eyes it just a little warily for a second, but he accepts and plugs it into the port on his side.

Himeko pulls up the list of all recent errors, and they really are all the same. Boothill has had multiple temperature alarms over the past couple of weeks since the Charmony Festival, and they know it's not the environment, because Penacony is mostly dreamscape and kept mild year-round. The long-forgotten natural deserts are too far away.

Boothill is staring from the corner of his one good eye, so Himeko turns the hologram to let him see what she's doing easier. They don't appear to be false alarms. His internal temperature spikes and then slowly lowers again, high enough that if it lasted it would eventually cause damage.

One option is for her to start rooting through personal data, figuring out what he was doing at the time of each code, and tracing cause and correlation.

Instead, Himeko reads out the timestamps, and asks Boothill if he minds sharing what was happening around him when it occured.

Two weeks ago: He and Dan Heng went to explore Dreamflux Reef and found a bar- nice place, good atmosphere. Woman runnin’ it was a doll. Boothill left fer not even two minutes to get them drinks (Dan Heng knows like nothin’ about liquor, Madam Navigator, can you believe this guy) and when he came back, someone had already stolen his seat and was hittin’ on Dan Heng! Dan Heng didn't even care, just shooed ‘em off. Boothill laughed and said not to let him get in his way if he wanted to meet someone. Dan Heng looked at him like he'd grown a second head. Why would he want to leave with someone else, when he came here to be with Boothill?

Twelve days ago: While laying low- er, just rustlin’ up some grub- in the Moment of Blue, Boothill passed Dan Heng with March and Caelus playin’ on the beach, buildin’ sandcastles and the like. When he passed by again almost two hours later, they were still out there, with Dan Heng pullin’ March through the water on her inner tube and Caelus hangin’ off the back of it. He swam so fast! You'd think he was part water snake or somethin’. He looked happier ‘n a cat in a sunbeam… He has a nice smile, doesn't he?

Eleven days ago: Boothill was killin’ time in Dreamflux Reef when he turned the corner down a shady alley and saw Dan Heng, surrounded by three men demandin’ “protection money.” None of ‘em stood a chance, they were all on the ground before Boothill even blinked! So cool! Boothill wants to see that spear of his closeup- Anyway, Dan Heng stepped on one of ‘em on his way out, hahaha! Boothill stepped on the same guy a second time as he hurried to catch up.

Eight days ago: Here on the Express, actually. Boothill had mentioned bein’ curious about the archives, and Dan Heng personally invited him.

(“I remember that day, I saw you in the hall.” “Was there any problem with the heating that day?” “No, none. I don't think the temperature has anything to do with these error codes. I have a different theory, keep going.” “If ya say so.”)

Boothill was fascinated by an entry on aeons, and from a single question he asked about Lan, the two of ‘em ended up talkin’ fer hours. About aeons and Paths and Emanators, Acheron and Self-Annihilators, the Sea of Nihility, Tiernan, the Nameless and the Galaxy Rangers, their burial relics and their customs. Dan Heng finally just started writin’ and editin’ the entries in real time, with Boothill pointin’ things out and tellin’ him what to add in. They were at it so late that Boothill ended up sleepin' on a couch in one of the cars.

He'd figured there had to be something to make Dan Heng chatty- he'd caught just a glimpse of it that first night they met, sittin’ at the bar in the Reverie together. He'll have to ask about the archives more often, if it gets him all revved up like that.

One week ago: After that night of energetic discussion, Dan Heng was apparently hyped up, because after he'd downed some of Himeko's coffee (“You had some too, right? What did you think of it?” “It was great, even better'n chewin’ bullets!” "Thank you! That was my newest brew, I can't wait for everyone else to try it.") he actually asked Boothill to go hunting with him. Boothill asked who their target was, and was surprised when Dan Heng pulled out photos that looked like they were from March's camera, of all things, instead of a bounty or wanted poster.

And as he sat there, studying these pictures, Dan Heng explained that he wanted to hunt down these specific memory zone memes to record them into the archives. Planets with so much memoria are a rarity, especially with the Stellaron's activity thrown into the mix, which has surely affected the local “wildlife.” He might not get another opportunity like this for a long time. And Boothill had talked last night about his extensive expertise in tracking and hunting, so he should have plenty to offer here, Dan Heng would like to learn from his experience and see how he does things!

And oh, Madam Navigator, by the time Dan Heng was done speakin', his eyes were practically sparklin'! Just lit up like the sun! Boothill could scarcely believe it! The two of them couldn't even wait another day, they set out that very morning. It had been a long, long while since Boothill had tracked someone- er, somethin’- without the intent to capture or kill. It was…actually really nice. Nostalgic, but in a good way. It might even have been his favorite day on Penacony…so…far…

Boothill trails off as a couple of realizations crash into him. All the temperature alarms he's spoken about thus far- they've all happened in the company of Dan Heng. And now that he's thinking about it, he's pretty sure even the ones he hasn't yet talked about were with him, too. Dan Heng has been responsible for all of his error codes, every. single. one.

The screen in front of Himeko suddenly refreshes to the top of the list, displaying a new notification for the current time. Alert! Core temperature above normal range.

Himeko's knowing smile is sly as a snake.

Wwwwwelp, would ya look at the time, Boothill has some errands to meet, people to run, y’know how it is, he should really get goin'-

“Oh, Mr. Boothill? About that favor.” And Boothill jolts to a stop in the doorway because fudge, he can't just leave without hearing her out. He'd given his word. He has no problem running out on someone he thinks deserves it, but Himeko really had been kind to him to try and help him out. Her voice is just as knowing as her smile, Boothill can't turn around to look at her, or else he knows he won't be able to disguise the sound of his cooling fans kicking on.

“Don't make Dan Heng wait too long, ok~?”

“Y-Yes, ma'am.”

[loveshard]

stephen's heart stuttered, flipped, and twisted in ways he hadn’t quite expected at skylar's voice, filled with trust and wanting. wasn’t he supposed to be the confident one? the flirt, the rogue, the man who had spent his life charming people effortlessly? but this, the reality of her, bare before him, giving him this trust was leagues away from the stolen kisses and fleeting romances he’d known before. he had never been so utterly, completely captivated. exhaling shakily, his hands smoothed over her thighs, warm palms pressing against the softness of her skin. she had bared herself to him, willingly, unashamedly, and he would not, could not, treat this moment with anything less than devotion. "then we’ll take inspiration," he agreed, nodding, pressing a kiss to the inside of her knee this time, "and make something better." if she thought her books were sinful, he was determined to show her just how much better reality could be.

"a story only you and i will know," he promised, his gaze remaining upward, adoration and reverence swimming in his brown eyes, drinking in the way she trembled under his touch. it was a far cry from the uncertain beginning they had started with, the careful distance, the weight of expectation. "one that will make even the most daring novels blush." her hand curled into his hair, the other cradling his face, and a foolish, love-struck, entirely consumed stephen leaned into it, nuzzling against her. tempted to float away, this was the only thing keeping him tethered to the earth. how had he gone his whole life without this? he marveled. how had he not realized he could crave this? her fingers threaded through his hair, tugging lightly, sending sparks across his body, and he chased after the feeling. the scent of her arousal spurred only curiosity and the overwhelming desire to pleasure her, drawing him closer. he let his lips trail higher, up the curve of her thigh, inching closer and closer to her center. each kiss was more daring than the last, but he stopped, pausing to watch her. because this was new for both of them. he was used to moving without thinking, to acting on impulse, but this wasn’t a chase. this was something to be built carefully, beautifully, moment by moment. so he waited, letting her guide him.

"is this... am i doing it right?" stephen whispered, his lips hovering just above where she needed him most, eyes eager and hopeful as he tilted his head back to meet her gaze, "i want to make you feel good, my love. i want to be everything you've ever desired." he could write this story himself. could take control, could have her shuddering beneath him in minutes, but he wanted to hear it from her. wanted her to tell him exactly what she wanted because he would give it to her, whatever it was. this was the opportunity, if not the most important opportunity, to impress. if she had read about passion and imagined something deeper, something electric, then by god, he wanted her to look at him the way heroines in books looked at their great loves. not just as her husband, not just as a duty-bound partner, but as someone she desired in the same breathless, all-consuming way he already found himself craving her. "you must tell me," stephen coaxed playfully, pressing another kiss higher. "if i am to be an attentive husband, i must know what pleases my dear wife."

there was no mistaking the moistness between her thighs anymore. especially now, with stephen looking at her so unashamedly, eyes roving over her nakedness in a way she could only describe as holy. she tightened her legs together to find some relief, but it only made her feel messier, thighs sliding against each other in her weak efforts. she couldn't even focus on the tight heat in her groin because stephen was calling her beautiful and it made her breath stop for a long moment. knocked her off her proverbial feet in the massive emotion that overcame her. because for once, she believed it. what he said wasn't some simple platitude to please her, stephen was telling her what truly moved his heart and at that moment, it was her naked body.

"stephen–" his name was all she could muster between trying to pull herself back into coherency, trying return to some kind of place that allowed her to speak again. he was a wordsmith in his own right, talking of worshiping her, learning together. all she could do was nod clearly for him, at the very least to let him know she was right here with him, that she shared all those feelings he was expressing.

she was also glad her husband was assisting her in undoing the buttons of his shirt, even if the touch of their fingers together seared. because skylar was finding difficulty in something even as simple as that, her hands trembling from the overwhelming emotions she felt for him. somewhere between affection, lust, and an intimacy she couldn't name. once his shirt was fully undone, sky pushed the shirt off by his shoulders. let her eyes eagerly wander once the expanse of his smooth skin was made available to her. she couldn't help but let her fingers brush over the spilling of hair on his chest, enjoying the softness of it just before he guided her to sit down on the edge of the bed.

which was good, because the sight of stephen on his knees before her probably had the power to literally knock her off her feet. she could never have imagined a man kneeling so willingly, much less stephen, who had been haunting her dreams for the past few weeks. she was so pliable like this too, legs easily opening for him, feeling chills wrack her body. with the kiss, she opened her legs more, letting his touch guide her to lean into the wanton feeling. to let herself feel a little lewd in a way that felt beautiful. "i– i believe we're writing a new one now," she whispered with a shuddering breath, barely registering her slippers being removed. only that he was kneeling in front of her like she was something to be cared for and pleasured and skylar swore she was seeing stars. "i think–" she took the leap, following the dull thudding in her groin, letting her legs open just enough that she was baring herself completely for him. "i think i prefer it." she could feel her pulse in her ears and her cunt, undoubtedly slick in a way that should be shameful. but somehow, the shame felt good here.

skylar's hand reached out, one hand cupping his face, the other running into his dark hair. oh, how she'd been yearning to touch him like this. "maybe. maybe, everything i've read can just be . . . inspiration."

[meownotgood]

I'm going back to bed the moment I post this but I've been having a super rough and stressful night... so for whatever reason I went back to read some of the kind asks I've received since I saved a lot... some since the first time I started writing... and I got so emotional and just began sobbing haha.... I can't believe how lucky I am...... I love writing so much.........

[marimbles]

i miss carpisuns sometimes </3

[doctorwhoisadhd]

hmm thinking about the idea of love songs. i think the idea of what a love song is that we have in our culture is inherently a little bit flawed because we have the idea that any song written about romantic feelings is a love song and im thinking thats not exactly true because there is a difference between "romance" and "love". what i'm saying is not that love is a broader category and applies to things that are not romantic in nature. this is in fact true, but it's not what makes the important distinction here. the true distinction between "romance" and "love" is that romance is a societally defined type of interest in another person, whereas love is, essentially, a promise that you make when you build a relationship.

as such, what i call "love" here might be better defined as "care", as that implies more time and effort, but that's a different suitcase to unpack and largely unimportant to my point here, which is more about the societal conventions of what we call love songs. the point is, relationships can be built with other people, yes, but also animals, places, organizations, ideas, so on and so on, whereas romance requires another person, hence the difference between the ideas of "romance" and "love".

with that in mind, there are two types of songs we in western, english speaking, society call "love songs":

1) songs that are about a person's romantic interest in someone that is either definitively known to be unrequited (existing monogamous relationship, sexuality that doesn't align, etc) or simply not requited (aka romantic interest being unknown); and

2) songs about an existing relationship (keeping in mind my points about relationships not just being with people, but also places, things, etcetera) as is.

(some examples of the latter category: mountaintop by relient k, which defines the relationship in question as non-romantic; or i miss my mum by cavetown, which is - as the title implies - a song about the singer missing their mother.)

now, the thing that makes distinguishing these two difficult is the fact that songs about an existing relationship CAN be about wanting certain aspects of that relationship to change. in these cases, determining that a song is one or the other will hinge either on a) authorial intent or b) whether the song is more about what the singer wants (thereby implying #1) or the lack thereof in that relationship (which would imply #2).

to get back to the subject at hand: the term "love song", as we think of it, is an umbrella term that include both of these two categories, and i think that perhaps it is reductive to do so. with that in mind, i think perhaps it would be more appropriate for "love song" to mean only the latter, whereas the former is a category of its own. WHICH is not to say that the two can't overlap — just that if a song is about a person with whom the singer has no relationship, it cannot be considered a love song due to the fact that it is a song about infatuation, not love.

(another interesting wrinkle this provides is the fact that a song might start out in the first category and, as the writer develops a relationship with a person, might move into the second category as they write more.)