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trashlie · 1 year

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kousuke.exe not only stopped working but was unable to process the input and was glitching and malfunctioning the entire night lmaooo sigh. i want to remain hopeful that this night will spark at least some kind of change in him despite yui doing yui things… but we'll see.

speaking of yu jing, do you think rand has assured her some kind of protection from yui once the article comes out? yu jing must be aware of how risky all this is. is she prepared for when yui seeks her revenge? idk maybe i'm overthinking this because i'm from a country where journalists get killed all the time, but i still wonder what makes yu jing so brave. what is, to her, worth making an enemy of yui? is it really just righteousness? i'm lowkey really scared for her tbh but ahh i can't wait til we get to the article.

aahhh i'm glad the romance is giving you everything you want!!! it may not be my personal focus but i do enjoy the romance in ily a lot. slowly learning about all the ways shinae and nol are delicately interwoven has been a delight. it adds so much to the story and i can see their romance blooming into something very beautiful! and please, i'm looking forward to you talking about them in more detail when/if you have the time <3

…..actually, thinking about it, maybe "devotion" wasn't the word i was looking for 😅 sorry, i'm not a native speaker so i wasn't aware the religious connotations were so strong. but i really like your interpretation, and it was very kind of you to not dismiss it! i guess i was looking for something stronger and more emotional than "loyalty". because to me, shinae's actions read not only as "you were a good friend to me so i'll be a good friend to you", but also as "you mean a lot to me and i don't want to lose you". idk if there is even a word that captures this?

and not to get too analytical but i find it interesting to compare nol to minhyuk in that aspect. maybe you will disagree but imo shinae's actions aren't necessarily romantic. i believe she'd be just as affected and do the same things if it was minhyuk, who is similarly meaningful to her. except with nol, there is a different layer to it. there is the soulmateism she isn't aware of (yet), but she IS aware of her heart thumping and not being able to hold his gaze, there's also the change in his behavior, and her attraction to rand which she still has to unpack (it's not just for comedic effect it's obvious she's projecting lol) and i cannot wait for her to do the math and realize what's happening lmao it will likely take her some time but that's fine. she'll get there 👍 and yes yes yes after everything these two (and kousuke too) have been through all i want is a happy ending whatever that may look like 🥺 and therapy for all of them. maybe they can get a group discount /j

-lil anon 😼

That is a REALLY good point about Yujing. It's partly why I do believe this piece she's working on started with her friend at the root - it HAS to be worth risking her career and potentially life. Yujing surely knows the risks she's taking. I remember at the beginning of 151 she tells her friend that what she's working on might take several years, but that it's something her friend would be very interested in. If Manli is the friend Yujing has that was sa'd, then it would give her a reason to chase the story, I think. Once she finds out Nol pled guilty, though, she calls her mysterious contact and the story that once was seemed like it would take years suddenly has only the amount of time as Nol's sentencing.

Isn't that interesting? I still am not entirely sure what to make of it. Clearly everyone expected Nol to plead not guilty, for the trial proceedings to take place, for Shinae to give her testimony. Also something that stands out to me - Meg was told her testimony wasn't needed, that it wouldn't matter if she testified anyway because it'd get thrown out and before Nol could get much more out of her, Yui appeared. Not so subtle, right?

That's a small tangent lol but the point is: yes, I think that this is an important story to Yujing, not just for her journalistic integrity, but for something more personal. Vindication for a friend? For multiple friends? Because while I don't know if Yujing is aware of the full extent of how Yui has raised Kousuke, I think she knows enough to sense otherwise. She was disappointed to find that Kousuke hadn't changed, much like Nol is disappointed he hasn't changed - in a way, they've been rooting for him to come to the conclusion we have, right? They've been waiting for him to really comprehend the full scope of his life the who his mother is.

Another interesting thing is that Yui absolutely tries to play her tricks with Yujing, to put on that maternal mask, but Yujing doesn't even bother entertaining her. Also, that day that she was interviewing Nol, Yujing wrapped up with Yui's entrance. She definitely has an inkling that Yui's presence would compromise Nol's responses and make him uncomfortable, and she could probably deduce that was exactly what Yui was hoping for, to meddle more than she already had.

And that comes to another point about Yui. She notes that what she's doing with Nol is below her paygrade and she's doing it as a favor to Rand, but I have to wonder if it wasn't rather self-serving. Nol's drug-related charges link right back to Yui, and we have enough to deduce that this isn't the first time Yui has provided such drugs. If you haven't read this post yet, please do! It poses an interesting link between Kousuke's college incident and Yui providing drugs.

All this to say: I think the story must be very important to Yujing for her to tackle it, knowing who Yui Hirahara is and what she's capable of. But it also leaves us wondering what kind of protection can Rand even provide? He couldn't protect Nol. He couldn't protect Kousuke, though perhaps he was just too late. He can't even really do much to protect himself. And the way the judge managing Nol's case just so happened to retire? We know she pulled some kind of strings, intimidated someone, something. She has so much power and we don't even know the extent of it all. So. What kind of protection can Rand even afford her?

But yes, I do worry about the outcome of this story, even though I also look forward to it. It feels like it will end up being a bombshell in a lot of ways. I also wonder about how the setting of ILY plays into this. In the past, quimchee has referred to it as the United States of Korea - not quite Korea, definitely not America, but as the story has unfolded and characters have gone to and from America, England, Ireland, Japan, does that mean we definitively are set in Korea - and if yes are we following Korean laws? Libel and slander in Korea are a big deal - you could sue someone for running a story defaming you, even if they reported the truth! And again, with the contacts Yui seems to have, I have to wonder what her reach is.

I guess that's what makes Yujing seem like such a cool and formidable character. I want to know what she knows lol i want to know what her angle is. Also while I'm talking about her, here's something interesting I just noticed. Yujing spoke of Kousuke and Nol with familiarity when she interrupted their fancy meal. She said that it was a surprise to see them getting along enough to eat because the atmosphere would be hostile whenever they were in the same room together. There's also that history between her and Nol and her dog Senator. It raises some questions - when has Yujing been around them together? Especially because of the way Yui played dumb about her; it could be an act altogether, asking if they went to university together full well knowing it's so.

Also one other thing while I'm on this subject lol. The morning that Yujing saw on the news Nol pleaded guilty, she was going through a news story about an altercation between Nol and Kousuke. Without knowing the angle of her story, I wasn't sure what this had to do with what she's working on - sure the framing of Nol as a bad person plays into it, but also - during his interview with Yujing, before it got cut off, he says to her "It's not the first time the truth has been twisted in the media to fit a narrative". Is he speaking about that article, the one that frames him as the aggressor? Is that the one Kousuke has that fabricated memory of? Ahhhhhhh the more I think about what Yujing is working on the more desperate I become to read it!

and please, i'm looking forward to you talking about them in more detail when/if you have the time <3

This will definitely be coming hopefully soon! It's just something that's been on my mind as I reread lol. Like you said, it's very delicately woven! For me, there's something about watching two characters really come to matter to each other; it's not something I feel like I'm good at writing myself, but it's something that just really gets to me. I'm definitely ILY for the story and learning about their pasts, and seeing what will come of everyone, but the possibility of romance is just the icing on the cake, tbh! I really enjoy scenes where we get to see Shinae be honest, and we tend to get those when Nol is involved lol. (But also while looking at some earlier chapters I got weirdly emotional re-reading Yujing and Shinae's first meeting at the mall, when she helped pick out clothes that flatter her and Shinae asked if it was weird or wrong to favor comfort over style and Yujing reassured her it's not. idk it was a nice little moment, Shinae deserves all the reassurance!)

But I definitely get what you mean! I think devotion DOES work - frankly I'm not a particularly religious person I think of devotion as lol one of those foundations for a lasting marriage/partnership lmao. And I don't think it necessarily needs to be seen as a romantic thing, either! I just enjoy the religious imagery of it because it makes it feel somehow... idk, transcendent? Since right, it's a stronger word that loyalty is! And I do agree that her devotion, her dedication, her insistence on being there itself is not inherently romantic, which is what I love about it!

Idk how to explain this so please bare with me lol. It's like... to me romance isn't a raging forest fire, because eventually that kind of fire will just. Burn up and one day all that will be left is ash. It burns hot and strong and it's passionate, until there's nothing left. But a steady burning flame? Something that isn't so extreme, isn't so magnificent? But it's steady and constant, it's reassuring. You can trust it to continue. Sure a candle will eventually burn itself out but it's not like that wildfire that just burns and consumes until there's nothing left.

So when it comes to romance and things that seem otherwise mundane, I love it SO MUCH. Because I think it really plays into that narrative of how do you even define platonic vs romantic love? Shinae could very well have the most platonic feelings about Nol and still want to sit by his bed and keep watch over him, to make sure he's okay, to make sure he doesn't go out of her sight again. She absolutely would do the same thing for Minhyuk, someone we know is one of the most important people to her outside of her family. She did it as much as she could for her father when he was in that same position, too.

there is the soulmateism she isn't aware of (yet), but she IS aware of her heart thumping and not being able to hold his gaze, there's also the change in his behavior, and her attraction to rand which she still has to unpack (it's not just for comedic effect it's obvious she's projecting lol) and i cannot wait for her to do the math and realize what's happening lmao

THE BIG DUMB SMILE THAT GREW ON MY FACE WHILE READING IT because that's it THAT'S EXACTLY IT lol that's why it just GETS to me! Because she WOULD do this for any other person she loves, anyone else who is important to her, but this isn't any other person, it's him, and it's the way she can't hold his gaze, it's their tendency to lean towards each other (metaphorically or literally), it's the way he's let his defenses down a little more than she's used to, it's the way he's acting on something she once upon a time thought he was and told him not to but now she's not so concerned about crossing that line. In fact, that's BEEN going on! She went from telling him not to be too familiar with her lest he make his girlfriend mad at him waaaaaaay back before the formal to LMAO holding his dumb hands because it brings her comfort so she assumes it will do the same for him. It's all those little things!!!!!!!!

I, too, am waiting for her to have that realization that this version of Nol, this side of him he's shown her, that intensity, is SO much like Rand LMAO. I fully agree - that was not simply for comedic affect LMAO that was a little seed planted (although, hands down, the conversation Nol and Kousuke have following that is one of my FAVORITE scenes. There's something about the way Nol is just. Talking to Kousuke like maybe they don't hate each other and maybe they aren't at each others' throats all the time, casually noting that sure he finds Dieter's mom hot but is he going to SAY so and Kousuke just like PLEASE SHUT UP THIS IS SO UNCOMFORTABLE such a FUNNY scene lmao).

BUT ANYWAY YEAH IT'S EXACTLY THAT!!!!!!! I love love that isn't grand and overstated. Like, that's fine and I definitely can enjoy a really grand gesture, they're fun to read! But I love the kind of love that blooms from a seed that was planted long ago and maybe you didn't even realize you were nurturing it but eventually it grows and will bloom and that bud has grown and it may not have completely unfurled itself but. In time!!! Soon!!!!! It's the "calling insistently to check up on you and worrying even when i'm told you're okay because i want to hear it for myself". It's the "defending you even when you aren't around to see it because it's not an act i put on you are special and i don't like it when people mistreat you." It's the way!!! Her acts of care!!!! Linger even after she's gone!!!!! It's the way he always seems to reel from whatever mark she's left - her hands bunching up his coat, the earbud she returns to him, the stupid chicken nugget hand holding. AAAAAAAHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH all these little moments that could just as easily remain platonic, except they're stirring something up!!!!!

That they are each people who aren't good at receiving care from others but end up doing exactly that for each other! And how they receive that concern and care! Nol always seems SO affected by the times she pays attention to him, when she notices things. The medicine she bought him!!!!!!! Because he is a person who deserves to be taken care of!!!! When no one else but Nana does that. ;A; Like alfkjakfjkjaf lmao see I'm accidentally going on the tangent already but that's! Exactly what I love about them. That, as you put it, they are so delicately woven, it's been happening all along but NOW we can see that tapestry they've been weaving. We can see exactly how they've affected each other in a way that's led to these flirty little fingers dancing, to this additional layer atop something that could be otherwise so platonic. It could be Minhyuk and she'd still be asleep at the side of his bed, but it's not, it's Nol, and that makes all the difference.

;A;!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

GROUP DISCOUNT THERAPY FOR ALL!!!!!!!!! lmao I really do look forward to the end even though I HATE things ending and I tend to hold off finishing them as long as I can lmao because I get sad but ILY is special because I DO hope as many characters can get the happy endings they deserve, can find the comforting peace they need. I think everyone will always carry some kind of baggage, but bagage isn't as heavy if you can share it with someone, if someone can lighten the load. I mean that very platonically, too - I just want to see these characters find some kind of peace and have someone who understands, who gives them that space.

But I definitely want them all to get therapy LMAO PLS

#I Love Yoo #ILY Brainrot #ILY FP #ILY Spoilers #I had to think for a hot second to remember if this contains spoilers because i'm at that point i've been yelling about these eps for so #long it feels like that i forget whether they've gone free or not LMAO #lil anon #ALSO i just want to say your English is really great and i would never have guessed it's not your native language but also! don't feel bad #about the word devotion. it doesn't NEED to be religious at all that's just lmao a weird catnip thing for me #devotion is definitely considered a fundamental aspect of relationships!#'undying devotion' and such like that #i'm just also a weird sucker for vaguely sacrilegious imagery like 'praying at the alter of your lips' LMAO SO LIKE!!!!!! don't worry!#Stalkyoo #Aegi #Shinae Yoo #Nol #Nolan Oliver T. Lochlainn #Yujing #Yui Hirahara #have we ever gotten Yujing's last name? lmao #anyway as always a very good ask I did a LOT of rambling and going on tangents because idk how to curtail myself alfjkakjfjkaf #really uhh alfjakfj really got into my shippy feels too LMAOOOOOOOOO #it's okay i think that's what a lot of people are here for #sometimes you just. gotta. indulge in something that brings you great joy lmao #and sometimes that something is the tenderness of quietly blooming feelings growing between people #or w/e #hahahahahah

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depressing-debbie · 3 years

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fluffy alphabet for Bertholdt 💳💥💥💥💳💥💥💥💳 (if you want too ofc 💕💕)

Of courseee :)

I’m generally very unsure about the way I characterize Bertholdt, so if this is really crappy I apologize <3

As always, I'm using the prompt by @snk-warriors

Fluff Alphabet: Bertholdt

A ctivities - What do they like to do with their s/o? How do they spend their free time with them?

He definitely likes more private activities, like maybe a picnic, for special occasions or date nights. In general, though, he just likes spending time with his SO. On an ordinary day, he’s happy just sitting with them while they both do some work or just watch TV. He’s more enjoying being in their presence than whatever activity they’re working on.

B eauty - What do they admire about their s/o? What do they think is beautiful about them?

This poor baby thinks absolutely everything about their SO is stunning. Like every time they walk into the room, he’s taken aback by how amazing they are. But really he does admire their personality more than anything, and it’s what he fell in love with.

C omfort - How would they help their s/o when they feel down/have a panic attack etc.?

I think he’s pretty uncomfortable at first just because he hates seeing his SO unhappy, and he really doesn’t know what to do. His instinct is to just sit down with them quietly and offer a shoulder to cry on. Unless they specifically ask that he do something else when this happens, he’ll probably continue to do it.

D reams - How do they picture their future with their s/o?

He honestly doesn’t think about the future much. He absolutely has a lot of inner conflict around his identity, and his future has never really been guaranteed. As long as his SO is with him, he’d be happy.

E qual - Are they the dominant one in the relationship, or rather passive?

It’s pretty equal, but I think he leads more towards a passive role just because of his personality. He’s a bit shy by nature, and arguably more of a follower than a leader, so I think he’d like to be the one that’s being protected in the relationship. At the same time, he’d definitely want to be the one protecting his SO, so it varies.

F ight - Would they be easy to forgive their s/o? How are they fighting?

He doesn’t really instigate fights, and he’s not great with conflict. It makes him sort of retreat into himself, but because of how unhappy fighting makes him, he’s always open to talk and make up. He’s definitely rational in these situations, and he really wants to come to an agreement.

G ratitude - How grateful are they in general? Are they aware of what their s/o is doing for them?

He is BEYOND grateful. In his eyes, his SO is absolutely perfect, and he doesn’t even really feel like he’s deserving of their love and attention. He thanks them constantly, and he truly and deeply appreciates everything they do.

H onesty - Do they have secrets they hide from their s/o? Or do they share everything?

In general, he’s very open and honest with his SO, especially with things that are serious or important. But, he also cares about them and doesn’t want to see them get hurt, so if he finds something out that could make them upset, he may decide not to tell them. He doesn’t love it, but it’s his way of subtly protecting them.

I nspiration - Did their s/o change them somehow, or the other way around? Like trying out new things or helped them overcome personal problems?

His SO is probably a huge inspiration to him. Again, he thinks they are so amazing, and the idea that they would want to be with him gives him the slightest boost in confidence. I think they also help and encourage him to branch out and try new things, so they’re helping him get comfortable with lettin loose a bit.

J ealousy - Do they get jealous easily? How do they deal with it?

He honestly does get jealous sometimes. It’s not that he doesn’t trust his SO completely, because he does, it’s just that he begins to question whether they would be better off with someone else. He may start to pull away a bit when he’s jealous, which is pretty easy to spot. And he can be pretty easily reminded that he doesn’t need to be jealous, with just some hugs and positive words.

K iss - Are they a good kisser? What was the first kiss like?

Their first kiss was VERY awkward. He planned it for a while so the general pacing fit the relationship, but he probably messed up the timing in the moment, and it was really unexpected for his SO. It wasn’t bad necessarily, he just way overthought it, and he apologized about a thousand times afterwards. A bit later into the relationship, once he’s let himself relax a bit, it’s probably much easier for him, and he’s actually a pretty good kisser.

L ove Confession - How would they confess to their s/o?

He spent a lot of time planning, again, but this time, I think he chose the perfect moment. They were probably just out for a late night walk when he looked over to see how beautifully the stars were lighting up their face, and he told them he loved them. It was really sweet, and he makes an effort to say it as much as he can from then on.

M arriage - Do they want to get married? How do they propose? What would the marriage be like?

I don’t think he’s really though about marriage the same way that he hasn’t thought about his future. Legally combining another persons life with his when his own life isn’t even guaranteed is pretty frightening for him. But, if it’s something his SO wanted, he wouldn’t be opposed to it. He probably wouldn’t be the one to propose, but he’d be more than willing to help with the planning for the wedding (and he’s surprisingly good at it)

N icknames - What do they call their s/o?

Definitely something just a bit cheesy, like honey or darling. He also just loves to call you by your name, though, because he thinks it’s a beautiful name.

O n Cloud Nine - What are they like when they are in love? Is it obvious for others? How do they express their feelings?

There’s such a noticeable change when he first falls in love. He has an obvious air of confidence in his daily interactions, and he’s much less nervous in general. He also probably talks about his SO a lot more in conversation with other people, which is uncommon. He works hard to express it clearly for his SO, so he showers them with little praises and tiny acts of service.

P DA - Are they upfront about their relationship? Do they brag with their s/o in front of others? Or are they rather shy to kiss etc. when others are watching?

He’s definitely a private person, especially with his relationship. His friends and family would be generally aware of it, and his SO is welcome to tell the people in their life as well. But he’s strongly anti-PDA; at most, he might hold their hand in a public setting or let them rest his head on their shoulders. He gets uncomfortable showing off something that’s meant for just the two of them.

Q uirk - Some random ability they have that's beneficial in a relationship.

He’s incredibly empathetic to the point that he looks telepathic. He can almost always figure out what’s going through his SO’s mind at any given point and can predict how they will react to a situation. It also helps him be able to comfort them, and understand them more.

R omance - How romantic are they? What would they do to make their s/o happy? Cliché or rather creative?

Probably a nice mix of both creative and cliche. He’s never gotten that cliche romantic relationship with teddy bears and dinner dates, so I think he’d indulge in that once in a while just to make his inner lonely teenager happy. But for the most part, he’s very creative, and they definitely don’t follow the confusing societal norms for relationships. He really is very romantic, though, even if it makes him a bit embarrassed.

S upport - Are they helping their s/o achieve their goals? Do they believe in them?

He absolutely believes in and supports his SO more than anything! They are so terrific, and he knows they can do whatever they put their mind to. He’s only an optimist when it comes to them, and then he’s completely positive in the future. He admires their work ethic and strength in chasing their goals, especially when it’s something they’re passionate about.

T hrill - Do they need to try out new things to spice out your relationship? Or do they prefer a certain routine?

I don’t think he would want to spice things up very often, he really just enjoys their nice, normal routine. It’s cozy and peaceful for him, and if he had the choice, he’d stay that way forever. But he’d also be more than happy to try something new with his SO, especially if it’s something they’re really interested in. Even if he doesn’t end up enjoying it all that much, as long as they’re happy, he’s happy.

U nderstanding - How good do they know their partner? Are they empathetic?

Again, Bertholdt is ridiculously empathetic with his SO, so much so that he can practically read their mind. Even if they’re going through something he has no personal experience with, he can understand it through them. The root of this is just how well he knows them, and how much he cares about them.

V alue - How important is the relationship to them? What is it’s worth in comparison to other things in their life?

His relationship is very important to him! He loves his SO so much, and they’ve helped him in so many ways. The relationship makes him really happy, and he probably wouldn’t trade it for the world.

W ild Card - A random Fluff Headcanon.

His SO gets sucked into his pattern of ridiculous sleeping positions. Some nights, they might end up getting pushed onto the floor. Most of the time, though, they just join right in with him and mix in with his crazy position. It’s pretty hilarious, and also pretty sweet.

X OXO - Are they very affectionate? Do they love to kiss and cuddle?

He actually is really affectionate. Even though he can be pretty awkward, he’s so much happier when he can be physically close to his SO. It calms him down a lot, and it’s so much more peaceful. He probably wouldn’t initiate cuddling towards the beginning of the relationship, but once he gets more comfortable with them, he’d definitely go and just silently ask for attention by putting his arms around them and resting his head on their shoulder.

Y earning - How will they cope when they're missing their partner?

His SO is like his safety blanket, so I think he gets more anxious when they’re not there. He would never tell them that, though, because he doesn’t want them to feel bad at all. In fact, he would probably make himself more anxious trying to hide that he’s anxious, and it would just cycle like that. He probably just relies on his friends a lot while his SO is gone, and he does fine.

Z eal - Are they willing to go to great lenghts for the relationship? If so, what kind of?

He would absolutely do what it takes to keep his relationship strong. He’s a total gentleman, and he really just wants his SO to be happy, so he’d go to any lengths to make this happen.

#attack on titan #attack on titan bertholdt #attack on titan headcanons #aot headcanons #shingeki no kyojin headcanons #shingeki no kyojin #snk headcanons #snk #bertholt hoover #bertholdt hoover #i love bertholdt #bertholdt headcanons #bertholdt fluff #bertoldt hoover #bertolt hoover

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helena-thessaloniki · 3 years

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Hi Helena! Big fan of your writing here🥺♥️ Your rivamika fics are my safe space 😭 (if you have time to answer) i’d love to know when you first started shipping them, why, and what made you continue to love this ship (or anything else to do with your journey as an RM shipper)? i love your characterisation of both levi and mikasa individually, but even more so, your portrayal of their dynamic as a couple, which is why i wanted to ask so badly ☺️ x

Hey anon! Oh woah, first of all, thank you so much. Second of all, oh god, you probably shouldn't have handed me the mic. heh 😅

I’m afraid to look at the word count of this response, I’m sure it’s much more than you bargained for, but I appreciate the question and enjoyed thinking through my response (: Most importantly, I’m so glad you find my stories as a safe space. It’s really an honor. Thank you for sharing with me 🖤🖤

TL; DR As a longtime reader, writer and lover of stories and story-telling, by being someone who pays attention to how stories are crafted and deliberately developed from beginning to end, I sincerely thought Isayama was setting up rivamika as an endgame relationship. So, I read into and interpreted meaning out of ALL their interactions and became deeply invested.

I don’t necessarily ship them cause of the parallels, age gap, enemies to lover trope, height difference, or some of those common reasons and/or kinks. I’m more basic and boring than that. I love the concept of them coming together as though it’s inevitable.

They both are unbelievably strong, selfless, and have suffered so much loss— so, no one else could truly understand them as well as they can understand each other. They both probably would have always settled for a stable, simple life, and been alone and lonely even without realizing it— instead, they find each other, and realize what it means to actually no longer be alone, to do more than just survive. It’s this understated bond, as opposed to a dramatic and passionate romance, that I envision in them and that I love so much.

Then, the passion, heat, the romantic "spark"— I think that’s an added bonus, the cherry on top, the perfect final puzzle piece. They’re both so physically capable, can speak through their actions, and don’t show much need or capacity for emotional/ verbal communication, so the ability to connect with each other through physical intimacy and mind-blowing sex seems like another given.

Still, at the end of the day, for me it comes back to their ability to fully depend on each other, to the inevitability. Not like some soulmate trope where they 'have no choice' in it, but like the stars aligned to prove it's right. How each of them have only one other person on the whole planet who could see and understand them, to be on par with them, to make them realize there’s more to life than settling and surviving, and they happen to find it in each other.

You asked, I rambled 😅 Here’s a breakdown of my thought process in my rivamika journey. For those who make it to the end or want to skip to the end, I'll finish with the excerpt of the very first rivamika scene I felt compelled to to write.

I've tried before to re-watch and remember the exact scenes, exact moments, that initially captured my full attention, but I guess it was all of them, the gradual and cumulative compilation of their earliest interactions.

Mikasa always appearing cool and indifferent, and paying no attention whatsoever to others fawning over, like Jean initially falling for her, but then her strongly reacting over Levi in the courtroom showed how uniquely capable he was at getting under her skin.

Of course, the scene in the forest chasing the Female Titan was a critical one. I think of that as the first time both Levi and Mikasa were truly able to see the other's strength, mental and physical. And for them, orphans and trauma survivors who have suffered extensive loss, I think that seeing strength in another person made them feel less alone. Less alone in a deep, quiet but cataclysm, life-altering sort of way, even if not a romantic one. Like they didn't know it was something they didn't have, something they didn't expect to get from life, but then found it with each other.

(Even when we found out Levi was an Ackerman, I was disappointed if it meant they were immediate relatives, but willing to accept it wouldn't be a romantic end to loneliness, it would be a familial end to loneliness. But... the author never explored that. Not once.)

In that forest scene, manga and anime, the way that Levi pauses to really look and see Mikasa and think about who she is, what she’s gone through, and how strong and dedicated she is now— that was a defining moment. It was also a visual demonstration of Levi breaking character, from aloof and ruthless, to considering and curious. I thought Yams was showing both of them do that on purpose.

Then, Levi getting hurt because of Mikasa in that scene felt like another clue. Sure, it was while saving Eren, and sure, it could have been meant to humanize super-soldier Levi, or sure, it could have been another aspect of how Mikasa rushing into things over Eren ends up hurting other people that later changes in her character development, but it felt like a very pointed statement about Mikasa being a vulnerability for Levi. And that's swoon-worthy, right? Most of us have been exposed to and conditioned by stories about how special and romantic it is to be the one and only girl who can make an otherwise disinterested or unattainable guy actually pay attention to her, and so admittedly I fall right for it.

I’m sure I’m forgetting plenty, but the opening of season 3 felt like confirmation. When Levi figures out Kenny's behind things and entrusts Mikasa with instructions to share with the others, instructions about fighting people instead of titans that ultimately everyone else besides her struggles with, and when Mikasa lets Levi hold her back from chasing after Eren, her most important way of trusting and having faith in Levi, I honestly took that as cues from the author that rivamika was endgame. I let myself get truly invested from then on. That’s that understated bond I was referring to. To me, that unspoken but undeniable trust is the most important dynamic.

Seeing them fight together or fight similarly has always been fun and powerful and fulfilling.

I'm newer to the snk club. I was originally an anime-only fan and started watching in fall 2019, I think. I wasn't on tumblr, twitter, or anything else to see fandom discourse. So, I didn't know that the rooftop scene of Mikasa fighting Levi over the serum was such a staple for our ship until much later. I love the scene just like many do for all the reasons we do, but I don't think the actual scene was pivotal for me, so much as it's aftermath. I thought it represented two things.

One, it was an important marker in Levi's characterization. Hands-down one of the most striking scenes to me is the one where Levi is in the alley, somber and alone, listening in on Eren, Armin, and Mikasa talking together. It artfully shows his longing for hope and connection. So, when Levi chose Armin for the serum, that represented Levi choosing hope. And when Mikasa ultimately gave up fighting Levi and didn't choose Armin, which Armin finds out about later on, I see that as an important marker in Mikasa's development. It puts a wedge between her and Armin/Eren [Armin, because he knows she would have let him die, and Eren, because Armin is too special to him and he couldn't look at her the same way after realizing she would have let him die]. That distance between her and her childhood friends is one I don't think could ever be healed completely, one of those painful lessons in growing up. By doing that, it then also puts a distance in Mikasa's own childhood self to her current self. I thought that matured her and separated her out in a way that was another clue toward eventual rivamika developments.

That's a whole other conversation on Mikasa, but I’ll stay on track. Her love for Armin was absolutely authentic and fierce, but at the end of the day, at the core of her being, she chose survival over hope. Meanwhile, Levi chose hope over survival. To me, that was soft, fertile ground for the reasons why eventually, if/when Mikasa found hope and chose hope, that could directly tie together with her inevitably in coming together with Levi. Again, less butterflies and fireworks, but more natural and in a way that was just a given.

I wrote Beyond the Walls before reading the manga from the Marley Arc and on, so that's why most of that story is her journey into embracing that hope. *manga spoilers* There's a lot of meta, criticism and talk about Mikasa's silent, off-screen and subtle style of character development in the Marley Arc and afterward. I won't go down that road, I'm still processing the end of the manga to be honest, but I think it's fair to say she does eventually end up choosing hope over survival when she lets go of Eren and saves humanity instead. I love the “Stay with Me” line and think it’s perfect; a simple but profound display of trust and their deep-rooted bond in a really understated way. *end manga spoilers*

Here's something I always wanted to talk about in full but haven't. It honestly reads to me like Yams was building toward rivamika, and didn’t do anything to stop that until too late. There are tools authors can use to ensure we stop shipping a pair or start shipping a new one; love triangles are commonly used in every artistic medium and we’ve all been persuaded by these tools. But Yams didn’t use these tools to make sure readers didn’t feel convinced by rivamika. For all the reasons I listed above, more I'm forgetting, and for the following:

If he wanted us to think they were family and it would be incest, he should have added in a conversation between them realizing they were (close) family and that they weren't the only ones left in their biological family like they thought. But he didn't.

If he wanted us to think it was completely inappropriate between a child-and-adult and student-and-teacher, then he could have done something to ensure Mikasa looked childish or Levi looked older, but no. They barely look ten years apart. I do think it's unacceptable and that there's a power imbalance between a child-and-adult relationship regardless of that, and that there can't be true consent when one is a superior and another a subordinate, so I personally age-up Mikasa in my head and try to handle his position of power responsibly in my writings... but the point being, by the end of canon, there's no inappropriate or non-consensual romance between them, yet there's a lot of history and chemistry that could naturally lead to an age-appropriate and consensual relationship. If Yams didn't want us to think so, he could have made it more clear that there were reasons it wouldn't happen.

The only thing that makes sense to me is the author planned on rivamika endgame but was shamed/pressured out of it (either internally or due to others) OR that the author somehow accidentally created such vibrant chemistry and an incredible dynamic between them. Like, he didn't put enough convincing substance of eremika in, didn't make Levi look old enough, didn’t have one of them do something unforgivable in the other’s eyes, etc. Those are some of those tools he could have used. Romance was never a key component in snk. And since we now know Yams planned or needed eremika endgame for sake of plot and the conclusion of the manga, I personally think he didn't know what to do with the riveting rivamika substance and chemistry being much more convincing to readers. Once he had them so well built-up, maybe the only option he felt he had was to just stop putting the characters together. We get little-to-no rivamika interaction, platonic or practical, after season 3 all the way up until the very end. But there was so much of it beforehand ?? So, it simply doesn't make sense. I think the author just straight-up cut any and all interactions out between them because it was too convincing and moving, more convincing and substantial than eremika. But, as the end of canon shows, we needed to have some eremika buy-in. It's messy writing and unskilled in the romance department, but considering for how long and how complicated snk has been in a creative process and how lackluster the eremika romance (the main and apparently pivotal romance) is developed, I think it’s plausible to say the author effed up.

As far as writing fanfiction goes, there's just so much room to explore them. In canon, we aren't given enough insight into their individual perspectives, let alone their dynamic together, so it feels like a blank canvas to work from. I think that's part of why I love to write them, and also why I don't necessarily read much of them. When I first started shipping them while watching the anime, I read a few of the classics that were canon-verse, but I haven’t really read much since. For me, exploring and discovering them as a writer is the most fun. (It's one of the reasons Naruto and Harry Potter have such large fanfiction collections. There's so much world-building and so many characters, but there's also so much left to the imagination.)

In general, I'm drawn to strong characters, especially women, who are multidimensional enough to be real, vulnerable and soft. Mikasa is the pinnacle of that. I don’t necessarily like to write about her love or infatuation with Eren, but I do respect and admire and consider it integral to her character and her amazing capacity to love. We can have strong, kickass women who falter when it comes to love but are still considered strong for it. The two don’t have to be mutually exclusive and Mikasa is a beautiful example of that.

And Levi is strong, but real and vulnerable too; he’s honestly a fantastically developed character, from Petra explaining to Eren in the beginning how he’s not the amazing hero he’s painted to be to the public, to how Levi genuinely cares for Erwin and others and chooses hope despite all he’s suffered.

The end of the manga wrecked me a bit. Kind of like Games of Thrones. You have something that was so epic and well-done for so long, a rushed ending that isn't immediately sensical and isn't fulfilling is hard to stomach. Eventually, I'll move on from the denial of that and process what I think and feel about it. The whole reason we have fanfiction is to expand on canon, but it's made me put rivamika on the back burner until I figure it out. So I'm a little less hyper-fixated on the pairing right now even though interacting with you all and asks like this remind me what brought me here in the first place. 😊

To conclude, I’ll share that the very first rivamika content I wrote was a compilation of moments I thought could be inserted into season 3. These are still moments I plan to edit and publish one day. For anyone that actually read this far, I’ll put a rough and unedited excerpt of the first scene I ever wrote about them.

Thank you again anon 🖤😊

BEGIN EXCERPT [after the rooftop fight for the serum, immediately following the ceremony where Eren touched Historia by kissing her hand]:

Part of her was embarrassed at such a flagrant act of disobedience to a superior, especially to one who saved her and countless others' lives in the past. But mostly, she was anguished by the situation Captain Levi put her in once he revoked the serum meant to save Armin and planned to use it on Commander Erwin instead. Her current ostracization and self-loathing was not entirely her own fault. Anger she felt toward herself was just as easy to wield against him.

It must have shown in the grit of her teeth or defiant tone, because he turned to look at her, more aloof than curious.

Like a flint struck to steel, it ignited the fury she felt toward him.

“I shouldn’t have hesitated. I should have just killed you,” she answered him at last, piercing him with eyes darker than the night.

He wasn’t concerned. “You’re good, but not that good.”

Her hands fell to her side, fists clenched as she stood with a single, fluid movement. Before she could let loose a threat, he sighed.

“What’s the problem, Ackerman?” He was dismissive, his shoulders relaxed and posture loose.

The fire too furious to contain, she went sailing for him with the same speed from the battlefield. Her fingers already curled, she tightened her grasp as she swung her fist into his gods-damned apathetic face.

Levi wasn’t unprepared. He easily side-stepped her, then snatched her wrist to steal her momentum. Though he tried to toss her aside, she was no less fast; Mikasa dug her heel in and spun, her other arm shoving hard into his chest.

Too graceful to stumble, Levi used the chance to hook her second arm too. He caged both her wrists in a grip so strong, she was sure it bruised her bones. Still, he only looked at her warily, almost bored.

“Shouldn’t you be grateful? I chose Armin.” If his reminder was meant to ease her anger, it had the opposite effect.

Fury and desperation gifted her additional strength. She shoved into his chest hard. Levi shifted backward, nearly forced into loosening his grip; within that split second of an opening, Mikasa slammed her elbow into his chin, rocking his head backward.

“You did,” she seethed, but as fast as the fire inside her exploded, it was doused. Her next words came out broken and damp. “But I didn’t.”

Levi remained stern and otherwise unmoving as he attempted to flex his jaw through the spasm of pain. As the momentum of the fight died down, he loosened his hold on her wrists and evaluated her distraught frame.

Mikasa immediately released her own hands and turned away from him, eyes stinging from tears she refused to shed as she focused on the stars ahead. Admitting the harsh words aloud hurt her far more than any injury she could inflict onto him.

Not only was Armin one of the only friends she had, but he’d been a steadfast one throughout almost all she could remember of her life. After the trauma of her childhood, it was Eren and Armin who embraced her, whom she learned to love. Now, though, there was a wedge between her and Armin she was not sure could ever be removed. What was worse, as deplorable and selfish as she knew it proved her to be, was the painful wedge it now put between her and Eren too.

Once again, she found Levi standing at the peripheral of her sight, close enough to see but far enough to be a blur at the edge of her watery vision.

“You almost killed me.” Levi repeated his earlier words, but he said them with an odd bite, torn between frustration and patience. “You would have killed me to save him.”

Too late, Mikasa realized he hadn’t meant these words as an accusation, but an odd form of validation. She bit her bottom lip, teeth puncturing too hard; the tang of metal was sharp on her tongue when she swallowed blood.

“You thought about letting your closest friend die,” Levi said quietly, tiredly. “But I did let mine die. I left him for dead, when I could have saved him.”

Mikasa was startled from her selfish reverie, for the first time acknowledging the sacrifice he made on that fateful afternoon. She’d been too absorbed in her own relief, and then, her own regrets to consider what the decision had done to him.

For a brief moment, she considered turning to face him, but the stark reality of the matter made her refrain. How could she feel pity for his loss, when his loss enabled her gain? An uncomfortable knot tightened in her stomach.

“Tch,” Levi sighed. He was only one notch less taciturn, but for him, that was soft. “You’ll live with your guilt, and I’ll live with mine.”

His words granted Mikasa’s tears the permission to spill. She buried her face further into her scarf, both hands trembling at the worn threads. As quietly as he arrived onto the roof, Levi disappeared from it.

It was rare for him to indulge in alcohol or celebrations, but Erwin’s absence felt more tangible than his presence ever did. Levi distracted himself with the chaos of the few remaining Scouts that Erwin had died entrusting his legacy to, and attempted to drown the pain with whatever drink Connie Springer shoved into his hands.

He found Hanji with their ale long-forgotten about on the table as they half-stood from their seat, frantic while explaining some morbid experiment in great, vivid detail to an unsuspecting and slightly horrified MP officer.

Though Levi wordlessly took the seat beside them, Hanji paused their rant to slap him hard on the back, an enthusiastic greeting flying from their drunken lips. The MP took this chance to excuse himself, a pathetic attempt at politeness, but Hanji either didn’t care or didn’t notice.

“Ah, Levi,” they smiled at his drink, though it didn’t entirely reach their one eye. “Where you been?”

Levi didn’t answer. “You know, shitty-glasses, you’re even more unbearable about your experiments when you’re drunk.”

Hanji waved dismissively and reached for their ale. Years spent in battle and command together had gifted both of them with an eased familiarity, and sometimes, genuine friendship. In the same manner he ignored their question, Hanji ignored his lack of response and went on with their original inquiry.

“Careful, Captain,” Hanji warned lightly. “Now that there’s far fewer Scouts, you having a favorite might cause some division.”

Even though Hanji meant the words, there was a glint of mischief that twinkled in their remaining eye.

“It’s not favoritism,” Levi countered bluntly, turning his vision toward the young man on the far side of the room. “Eren is simply the best chance that we have in this war.”

Hanji laughed as if he’d made a joke and Levi looked back to stare at them, unable to be surprised at their quirks or oddities any longer, but still a touch curious about what spurned this current demonstration.

“I wasn’t talking about Eren,” Hanji said at last, a pointed nod toward his injured chin.

Levi blinked. He didn’t realize he was nursing his injury with the hand not on his drink. As though it were too hot to touch, Levi dropped his hand.

Hanji was not judgmental, nor inquisitive. In a war-torn life of losing too many cadets entrusted to him, the fact that Levi found a soldier with the strength and skill to remain safe was not only rare, but worth special attention. Still, it made him too lenient.

“Sometimes I think you’d let her get away with murder,” Hanji chided halfheartedly.

When he thought of Erwin dead in his grasp, sometimes he wasn’t sure if he already had.

#my asks #my thoughts #rivamika #rivamika fanfic #lena writes

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trifle-of-doom · 3 years

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The Hawk X Demetri Manifesto

Okay, here is the thing. Despite being well past my teens, there's a particular ship of Cobra Kai that has drawn my attention, this ship being Hawk/Eli x Demetri. When I first watched the show, I was actually more invested in the adult characters storylines than the teens. I immediately rooted for Johnny and Carmen, and I was always hoping for more interactions between them. But then I saw episode 2x05, in which the atmosphere between the Binary Brothers becomes way more dense, and that's when I started to see some potential for them. Not because I'm a deranged person who fosters abusive relationships, but because I immediately caught the hurt/comfort dynamic of the duo, which is something that works really well when it comes to fictional relationships. However, it wasn't until 3x10 that I said, "Ok, that's official, I need to see more of these two! I totally support them!" And I was quite surprised to find a fairly large amount of people who are very committed to this pairing, to the point it's caught the attention of the screenwriters/producers as well. Honestly, I don't know if the showrunners will ever have the guts to make them an official couple, and chances are their supporters will have to keep reading between the lines of their bromance, but in any case, here is my take on why Hawk/Eli x Demetri is an option worth to be considered.

#1 - The Bromance

If there's something that many years of navigating the Internet taught me, is that the main driving factor for fan-made ships is the presence of either a solid relationship based on mutual brotherly love or a bitter rivalry that may or may not flow into hate/obsession. If you consider anime fandoms, there are thousand examples that fit into either of these categories: Yugi and Jonouchi from the Yu-Gi-Oh series (yes, that's how old I am), Yugi and Kaiba from Yu-Gi-Oh, Sakuragi and Rukawa from Slam Dunk, Light and L from Death Note, etc. And our Hawk and Demetri fit into both categories. When we first see them, they are the stereotypical nerdy friends (possibly childhood friends?) sitting at the losers' table, who have no one else but each other. When Eli is at his most sensitive and fragile, you can tell he feels comfortable being with Demetri by the genuine smile he has on his face as Demetri is joking with Miguel at the canteen table. Through his sarcasm, the mouthy kid acts as a catalyst to deviate the attention from Eli, speaking for him, reprimanding Johnny when he makes fun of his lip and trying to make him feel safe. Besides, you can see a certain degree of frustration in Demetri when Kyler and his gang are harassing Eli, and he's unable to do anything to defend him. And they even have a jingle for their friendship with a robot dance, I mean, how cute is that? But of course, a solid friendship between two helpless nerdy guys is not enough to spark a ship to be rooting for. In order for the magic to happen, another key ingredient is needed, i.e. a little bit of angst. Which brings us straight to the next point.

#2 - The Angst (aka the Hurt/Comfort Dynamic)

Even though I never liked the Twilight saga or any similar urban fantasy young adult works, I can easily see where the appeal comes from; the attraction to a charming, dangerous person who could either protect you from any harm or crush you like grape. Although with different franchises, I wasn't immune to the bad boy trope either (Yes, I'm looking at you, my teenage self drooling over Grimmjow from Bleach). If we can appreciate the genuine, brotherly friendship between nerdy Eli and Demetri, the shift that Eli makes as he transitions into Hawk and becomes more aggressive and dominant gives their relationship a totally different flavor. Attrition sparks a certain tension that, in the viewer's eyes, could either flow into a brawl or into passion.

During the mall fight, Demetri comes to the realization that his former best friend is actually someone who can crush him like grape. We see Hawk intentionally harming him for the first time, and Demetri's heartbreaking expression as he drops the line: "You'd actually hurt me?" And if that line gave us a pang in our hearts when we first watched Season 2, imagine rewatching it now that we know what happens in Season 3. Demetri is chased down the mall, running for his life, and then he's locked in a grip, as his best friend menacingly advances towards him. Demetri appears as the damsel in distress, however his friend is not the one who will fight to protect him, but rather his tormentor.

During the party at Moon's, Demetri manages to briefly go through Hawk's mask and reach out to Eli, thanks to a casual conversation about Dr Who. But then the beer incident happens, and Demetri defends himself with the only weapon he has – his loudmouth. The situation is reversed, and for a brief moment, he gets to be the dominant one as he discloses all Eli's most intimate secrets. Demetri is now actively contributing to the Hurt/Comfort dynamic; he's no longer just a target, but he's doing his part to enlarge that gaping hole that has formed between them. And Hawk didn't take it well.

From this moment on, Demetri becomes a sort of obsession to Hawk, who hunts him down the school, teasing him and taunting him sadistically, like a serial killer from a horror movie, during the big fight. Of course, in real life, this would be completely insane, and the police/a social assistant/psychiatrist should be called, but in ShipLand, these situations are pure gold. Okay, we get it, Hawk wants to get revenge for the humiliation at the party, and he wants to crush that nerd part of himself he sees in Demetri, but he does it with such an intensity that it borders on ridiculous. It's like this is his twisted way to acknowledge Demetri's presence. Eventually, Hawk ends up smashed into the trophy case, and I confess I felt a little disappointed when Demetri broke that hug to give Hawk a roundhouse kick. I mean, it was a great comeback, but I was sincerely hoping for a "No hard feelings man, let's get outta here!" scenario.

Getting back to the sick and twisted way Hawk acknowledges Demetri's presence, he destroys his science project after he got jealous due to him being confident in his nerd self and laughing around with his ex girlfriend (whom the writers insist he still has a crush on). Speaking of Moon, I have a feeling she likes Hawk mostly based on his badass appearance. Remember when she goes "I like this (mohawk) and I love these (muscles), but I'm not dating a bully"?

Then the football match happens. Okay, let's break this down. Demetri trips Hawk and acts all sassy, and a fellow Cobra Kai is immediately ready to take him down, but Hawk stops him. "Fight smart, he says". Too bad that literally 5 seconds earlier he had shoved a kid to the ground just because his ex girlfriend (again, duuuh~) ignored him when he winked at her. And then, as he's trying to intercept the ball, BANG, Hawk hits Demetri, sending him to the ground, pretending it was an accident. So, what does this tell us? That Hawk has some serious anger management issues? Yeah sure, but also that he cares about fighting smart only as long as it serves as an excuse to leave Demetri for him, because he's his designated target. Again, this is all but romantic, and it doesn't necessarily have to be interpreted as him lusting after his friend, but it's undeniable that this dynamic offers a lot of ship fuel.

The arm breaking thing is just too painful to even analyze. We see a completely helpless Demetri begging for mercy to his ex best friend, who has made No Mercy his life motto. And that scream, oh that scream. All I wanted to see was Hawk realizing what he had done and throwing himself on his knees while begging for forgiveness. But I'm glad that at least we get to see he feels awful for what he's done, and I like to think that, as he got home, Eli cried out all the tears he had in his body thinking about poor Demetri at the hospital, with a swollen broken arm, all because of him. Of all the situations, this is undoubtedly the most deranged and extreme, and if something like this happened in real life, the wrongdoer would deserve to be punished and would definitely need to be sent to therapy. But in ShipLand, this opens the road to many, many different scenarios, in which the bully understands his mistakes and shifts back to the good side, or the two share a tender moment after they reconcile, or the traumatized character has to to learn to trust the other one again, or the bully becomes overprotective of his former victim, etc.

#3 - A Rewarding Reconciliation

Finally, we come to the reconciliation, in which Hawk makes his heel-to-face turn. While we've seen him torn with doubt for an entire season about his sensei's teachings, his actions and the people he wants to surround himself with, the key factor that drives Hawk's redemption is the sight of his best friend being held down for him to beat. And with an epic stunt and his awesome KEEEH screech, Hawk jumps to the rescue of his friend. Like many of us, Demetri thought this was still part of the "Only I Can Torment Him" dynamic I discussed earlier, as he steps backwards a little concerned, but then he understands that action was actually meant to save him, and the two begin to fight side by side, in sync, watching each other's back. You can see Demetri's eyes sparkling at the thought of having his friend back.

Also, not only Demetri stands up to alpha bitch Tory in defense of Eli, but he also speaks for his friend when he's faltering, just like he used to. So kudos for Demetri.

#4 - The Red Oni, Blue Oni Dynamic

Binary Brothers are two sides of the same coin and complete each other with opposite character traits, visually expressed by the color red and the color blue. Being the color red typically associated with violence, rage, passion and irrationality, as opposed to blue, which is associated with calmness, melancholy and rationality, red is clearly the dominant color. Again, this opens many interesting scenarios for shippers.

#5 - Body Language

Besides the situations I described above, which may or may not be read from a romantic/attraction standpoint, there are also a collection of small gestures I noticed when rewatching the series with a more attentive look on their relationship.

- Demetri's heart-broken expression when Eli shamefully covers his lip during the anti-bullying announcement.

- The smile Demetri gives when Hawk responds "Hell yeah!" after Aisha proposes to crash Yasmin's party, implying he's learning to embrace this new wild side of his best friend

- The astonished look with which Demetri watches Hawk at the tournament and the way he's pissed no one knows his real name.

- How deeply hurt Demetri is when Hawk belittles him by saying: "Five against three. More like two and a half." He even tries to reply, but he's caught so off guard that words die in his throat.

- How Demetri takes a step towards Hawk during the mall fight, before Sam makes him back off, and how sadly he looks at Hawk's nearly unconscious body after Robby defeated him.

- How Demetri smiles and nods when he briefly connects with Eli at Moon's party, despite the mall incident.

- How Hawk watches Demetri juggle with the cleaning product from behind his bike helmet (how did he stuff the mohawk in there by the way)?

- Hawk's psychotic/sadistic faces when he smells Demetri's blood, and how he likes to hunt him down like he's his prey.

- Hawk's secret impulse to comfort Demetri after the arm breaking (I hope you get nightmares of Demetri's howl of pain for the rest of your life, Hawk).

- The way Hawk twitches his upper lip when he sees his friend Demetri in danger.

- How Hawk and Demetri are so absorbed in their new-found friendship, that they're caught off guard, and Demetri swings Hawk to allow him to deliver a kick using their handshake as a lever. And how they keep fighting together, shaking each other's hands even when they're out of focus and the attention is on Miguel vs. Kyler.

- How they're standing so close at Miyagi Do, in comparison with the other Red/Blue partners.

In conclusion, this kind of relationships are engaging and entertaining to watch, and they make us wish the best for the characters. They make us hope that, in the end, as Miguel puts it, love really conquers all (and what is friendship if not a form of love?), despite all the hurt they did to each other.

So this is it. I hope you enjoyed my Ted Talk. Feel free to share it with whomever you want, especially if you need some solid reasons why this ship has got some good potential.

And remember: the ship is in the eye of the beholder.

#HawkMeat #Hawk x Demetri #Cobra Kai #Eli Moskowitz #Demetri #binary brothers

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tothemeadow · 3 years

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Commissioned by @hinokami-s

Kamado Tanjiro x OC

- When the days seem gloomy and Hayami’s obviously stuck in a rut, Tanjiro decides it’s on him to make her feel better, but with secret little notes... -

warnings: none

words: 3.5k

And when the world treats you way too fairly, well it’s a shame that I’m a dream…

It hurts. It hurts so, so much. No matter how far she tries to escape it, the visions keep coming back, haunt her during the dragging hours of the night. It shouldn’t come as a surprise when Hayami firsts starts to see the darkening bags underneath her eyes, the way her fair skin loses its gentle glow. It’s only a nightmare, she constantly tells herself. That may be so, but this certain nightmare shouldn’t be revisiting her so often, just waiting for her to drift asleep.

Even now, her memories of the dreadful dream run through her head, make her days dimmer than what they should be. How long is this going to last? Hayami desperately needs her sleep, but if this continues, well… She doesn’t know what to do.

On the other side of the door, there’s a gentle knock. “Yami-chan? Are you alright?” Nezuko’s sweet, twinkling voice sounds. “You’ve been in the bathroom for a while, now…”

Oh, yeah. Hayami supposes Nezuko is right; she has been in the bathroom for some time now, absentmindedly staring into the mirror, at her horrified eyes and dark circles. If anything, she looks more like a shell of her usual self.

“Give me a moment!” she calls back. No, she doesn’t want Nezuko to worry. Frankly, she doesn’t want anyone to worry, but the Kamado family has a certain way of creeping into people’s hearts and rooting themselves onto their souls. Quickly splashing some water in her face, Hayami releases a long, shaky breath. Pushing the loose strands of hair behind her ears, she takes one last glance at her reflection before finally turning away and opening the door.

As expected, Nezuko’s large eyes glitter with concern, her eyebrows furrowed. She looks too much like Tanjiro whenever she does it, and it never fails to pull at Hayami’s heartstrings. “Yami-chan, you know I don’t want to pressure you or anything…” she starts, voice small. Tapping her fingers together, she glances around, makes sure that the two of them are truly alone. “But what’s bothering you?”

Ah, there it is – the inevitable question. Now, Hayami’s always been one to turn away her own problems, rather choosing to focus on the other people around her, but when the tables are turned… Well, it leaves her feeling icky, to say the least.

Still, Hayami forces a smile, both for her own sake and for Nezuko’s. “What do you mean?”

Nezuko sighs, much like she was expecting this exact response. “You look… tired. Dead, even. And, well, your hair is down, so I thought…” Trailing off, Nezuko shifts her weight from foot to foot, clearly uncomfortable and unsure of how to approach the subject. Like Tanjiro, her senses are keen; she’s able to pick up on the slightest of troubles, but she usually stays to herself, not wanting to bring discomfort to others.

It’s one of the things Hayami admires about her, but at the same time, she wishes Nezuko would drop it. She has a point, though; instead of her usual ponytail, Hayami’s long hair hangs loose, brushes against the entirety of her back. At times like these – at times of unease – her hair is the closest thing she has to a shield. Granted, only few people know of this so-called “habit,” so she can’t necessarily blame Nezuko for asking the reason why.

“Don’t worry about it, Nezuko,” Hayami tells her, albeit softly. “I just haven’t been sleeping well. It’s no big deal.”

Nezuko opens her mouth, seemingly ready to complain, but then she’s abruptly cut off by excited squeals. Shigeru and Rokuta come barreling down the hallway, cowboy hats on their heads and horse figurines in their hands. A chorus of neechan! greets her; both boys hop up and down in their spots, beaming grins on their faces.

“Neechan, play outlaws with us!” Shigeru exclaims.

“Yeah! Yeah! Outlaws!” Rokuta echoes, his voice a bit more chipper than Shigeru’s.

“Now where are those sneaky no-good-doers?” a voice drawls. Tanjiro comes into the hallway, then, a cowboy hat of his own sitting on his head. His face instantly flushes upon seeing Hayami. “O-oh… Yami-chan, how are you feeling? I was afraid you fell ill or something!”

“Uh-oh, the cop’s here!” Shigeru yelps. Both he and Rokuta scramble to hide behind Hayami, giggles spilling from their lips.

Hayami can’t help but laugh, the unease settling over her heart dissipating for once. Nezuko’s expression softens at that, but the look in her eyes still yells concern. Hayami ignores it, opting to forget her woes, even if it’s just for a little bit.

“Well, what are you waiting for?” she says to the two boys behind her. “I’ll keep him distracted while you two make your getaway! Go on, hurry!”

And, just as fast as they appeared, the boys take off again, proclaiming their gratitude as they scurry down the hall. With an amused huff, Tanjiro walks over to the girls, pushing his hat further away from his face in the process.

“Thanks for that,” Tanjiro says, a smile spreading easily on his features. “I swear, it’s like everyone else in this family wants you to be the eldest sibling rather than me sometimes.” His eyes flitter over Hayami’s loose hair for a moment; the smile on his face flattens into a straight line, the happy gleam in his eyes melting away into something sadder. “Yami-chan…”

“Listen,” Hayami interrupts, putting her hand up, “is it okay if I can crash here for the night? It’s just… Things are a little trying at home right now. I could really use the company.”

Cocking his head, Tanjiro seems bewildered by the sudden request, but the surprise quickly dwindles away. Sharing a glance with Nezuko, he nods his head, that familiar, soft expression coming back to his face. “Of course you can. You know you’re welcome here anytime, right?”

At that, Hayami’s heart flutters, both from gratefulness and well, something else. “Thank you, Tanjiro.”

Now, Tanjiro may not be the brightest bulb in the box, but he does have heart. His empathetic nature is one he was born with, one that developed into something strong once his younger siblings graced his life. And, considering that he and Hayami are extremely close, it’s only natural for him to pick up on her continuous crestfallen behavior. He doesn’t want to push it, though, because he knows that she’s just like him, always willing to put others first and ignore her own problems for the sake of others.

He still wants to support her, no matter what. And so, he does the only thing he think that might actually help…

“A note?”

Both of Hayami’s friends – Shinobu and Mitsuri – say it simultaneously, although in different tones. Mitsuri’s in more whimsical, romantic; Shinobu’s is more or less skeptical. Hayami nods at them, feeling just as confused as they are. It was mysteriously left in her locker this morning, and it had no name on it whatsoever. No initial, no hint, nothing. In fact, if it didn’t have her name on it, Hayami would have thought it belonged to someone else.

Granted, finding something so… special… waiting for her sent her heart flying into the clouds. The note itself was made of pink construction paper, neatly folded and even tied with a white ribbon. The sheer amount of effort put into the outside of the note only left impatient wonders for what could possibly be written on the inside. Hayami has already reread it, like, three times, but that’s not the point.

Handing it over to her friends, she watches as Mitsuri eagerly pulls off the ribbon; she’s practically shaking with excitement at this point. Knowing Mitsuri as much as she does, Hayami is more than aware of her romantic side. She’s not surprised as Misturi releases a delighted squeal, a lovely blush blooming on her face.

“Calm down,” Shinobu tells her, but a shit-eating grin is on her own face. “Let me read it.” Taking it from Mitsuri, she holds in before her, clearing her throat before she begins.

|Hayami,

I know things haven’t been the best lately. I can tell you’re hurting, but I just want you to remember something important. You’re important to so many people (me included) and you’re truly incredible. It pains me to see you without that beautiful smile of yours, but I’m not sure how to help. You always keep your pain hidden, and I want nothing more than to take it away. I want to see you smile again.

Sunny days are coming, I promise.

<3<3<3<3 xoxoxo|

“Oh my gosh!” Misturi gushes. “Look! There’s even little doodles on the paper!”

“Is that… supposed to be a cat?” Shinobu asks, cocking her head and squinting her eyes. “I don’t wear glasses, but I might need my eyes checked out after looking at that.”

“Shinobu!” Hayami squeaks. “Don’t say that!”

“Yami-chan, you have a secret admirer!” Misturi continues. Clutching her hands to her chest, her eyes glaze over with a joyful, love-stricken glow. “Think about it! Somebody is just waiting out there, wanting to confess their love to you! This is great!”

“Okay, but don’t you remember Valentine’s Day?” Shinobu interjects, a neat eyebrow raising on her forehead. “She got – what? 23 different people confess to her?”

At that, Hayami scratches her cheek in embarrassment. While it is true that she’s had so many people confess to her throughout the years, something about this note strikes her as different. For once, it doesn’t outright say that the anonymous sender holds any romantic feelings for her, but the choice of words leaves much food for thought. At most, this person is only wanting what’s best for her – pure, unadulterated happiness. It’s sweet, nonetheless.

Mitsuri pouts. “But this is different! This is secretive! Clearly whoever sent it doesn’t want to be outed for their feelings just yet. They’re giving chase! I say we try and figure out who it is!”

“Isn’t that a bit… irrational?” Hayami says. “There’s so many people who go to this school-“

“I agree with Mitsuri,” Shinobu cuts in. Hayami does not like the mischievous expression playing on her face. “We can single out the person who wrote this. Look at the handwriting, for example. Whoever left it obviously took their time writing it – it’s neat, but their natural handwriting still shines through. It’s messy.”

Both Hayami and Mitsuri gawk at the other. “You got that just by looking at it?” Mitsuri exclaims. “That’s so cool!”

“Hang on. Aren’t you two taking this too seriously? I doubt it’ll lead to anything more…”

Shinobu rolls her eyes. “Oh, to be young and naïve. It’s only because you’re super popular and have people practically drooling at your feet to have a chance with you. If we can find out who sent it, it shouldn’t be a problem. Like you said, it probably won’t lead to anything more.”

“Except that it will!” Mitsuri says with a giggle.

Hayami doesn’t know why her friends are so adamant about something so trivial – silly, even – but she supposes they have a point. Though, in the back of her mind, she’s almost positive that it’s some random admirer, just like the others. However, there’s another part of her that’s saying the exact opposite.

Either way, her friends have set their minds to discovering the so-called “culprit” or whatever their selected codename is. If one thing’s for sure, it’s that the hunt is on.

By the end of the school week, there’s still no obvious suspect.

Shinobu and Mitsuri are still hellbent on figuring out who’s leaving the sickeningly sweet notes; they’ve been popping up every day, much to Hayami’s secret pleasure. Something about them makes her heart soar, the overwhelming sense of joy and love flooding her very being. The feeling can only be described as beautiful.

Even now, she stares down at the folded piece of pink paper, the darling white ribbon wrapped neatly into a bow. Heart beating furiously against her ribcage, she gently pulls at the end, loosening the ribbon and opening the note.

Like usual, the various doodles decorating the edges catch her attention first. Pictures of cherry blossoms, mochi, crude cats… They’re all so delightful, and Hayami cherishes each and every single one of them. Little stickers join in alongside them: fluffy little animals, Sanrio characters, cute things like that. Whoever’s been leaving these notes obviously knows what Hayami likes, that much is clear. The attention to detail makes the note so much more special; worrying her bottom lip, she flicks her gaze over the neat-yet-messy handwriting, absorbing each and every word carefully.

|Hayami,

I’ve noticed you’ve been wearing your hair up again! Things are looking up, right? You always had this habit of wearing your hair down when something’s bothering you… Not that I mind (I think your hair is really pretty!) but it’s nice to know that your old self is coming back. I’d like to think these letters are at least bringing a smile to your face 😊 You’ve always been special to me, you know that? I wouldn’t know what to do if you weren’t my friend. We should have frozen yogurt at my house sometime this weekend! I think I have some strawberry froyo in the freezer… You like strawberry, right? I can always pick up another flavor if you don’t!

<3<3<3<3 xoxoxo|

That’s just… so cute!

Holding the note close to her chest, Hayami suppresses a squeal. How could somebody be so sweet? Pulling it away, she rereads it over and over, the smile on her face growing to such a point that it hurts her cheeks.

Now that she’s really looking at it, it says that she and the anonymous writer are friends. Plus, they mentioned frozen yogurt, and not many people know that’s one of her favorite treats! Does this mean that this mysterious person is going to give themselves up? If they were going to follow through with their plans and invite her over for froyo, then they’d have to, right? It only makes sense.

As much as she doesn’t really want to admit it, her curiosity is getting the best of her. Maybe – just maybe – if she follows in Shinobu’s and Mitsuri’s footsteps and plays detective herself, she can find out who’s been leaving the notes! It shouldn’t be that hard…

Right?

And so, at the end of that very school day, Hayami sets her little “plan” into motion. Well, it’s not really a “plan,” but it’s pretty close. Instead of going on a whole shebang of deciphering handwriting and dusting her locker for fingerprints (and yes, Mitsuri did think of that idea), she’s choosing to sit and wait. Call it intuition or simply a gut feeling, but the person whoever was responsible for the notes was bound to show up again. And, if they were going to show up and invite Hayami to their house, this is the time to do so.

As the last stragglers hanging around in the hallway finally take their exit from the building, Hayami slings her backpack her shoulder. A mix of anticipation and excitement boils within her blood, makes her nerves frantic and tingly. She isn’t quite sure how she should she go about this; after a moment or so of silent thought, she decides to hide around the corner and wait for this “knight in shining armor.”

Time passes – seconds, minutes, hours, Hayami doesn’t know. All of it feels like days to her. Before long, she’s mindlessly scrolling through her phone, debating whether if she should ditch the plan or not. With a sigh, she slips her phone away, drawing herself to a stand. Her knees ache from crouching so long; taking a moment, she winces at the slight pain, but then she immediately clamps her mouth shut at the sound of footsteps drawing near.

Slapping a hand over her lips, Hayami peers around the corner, her long ponytail swinging behind her. Wait, wait – are her eyes deceiving her? Tanjiro? What’s he doing here?

And if that wasn’t enough, Tanjiro glances around, seemingly checking out for any bystanders. Hayami ducks away just in time, her breath going still in her lungs. She watches on as Tanjiro shucks his backpack off his shoulders and brings it around his front; digging around inside one of the front pockets, he pulls out a folded-up piece of pink paper, a white ribbon wrapped neatly around it. Quickly, he walks up to Hayami’s locker, pops it open, and then gently places the note inside.

It was Tanjiro the whole time…?

The revelation sends Hayami’s heart wild; forget about the clouds, the clear blue sky. Her heart is flying through outer space, becoming one with the millions of stars shining through the darkness. Her best friend, this sweet, sweet boy… Now that she knows, it doesn’t seem surprising. Actually, she should’ve figured that it was Tanjiro the entire time, considering how his personality is.

“Tanjiro,” Hayami calls out, stepping away from her hiding place.

Upon hearing his name, Tanjiro flinches. Whirling around, he drops his backpack, his jaw dropping once he sees who it is. “Y-yami-chan!” he stammers, his face immediately heating up. “What are you doing here?”

“I should be asking you the same thing,” Hayami says, a delicate smile coming to her pretty face. “Tanjiro… Have you been the ones leaving the notes behind?”

If possible, Tanjiro’s blush turns even darker. Rubbing the back of his neck with a hand, he looks away, a sheepish smile spreading across his lips. “I… I can’t lie, and there’s no point if you saw me…” Clearing his throat, he dares to look at Hayami. “…It was me. It’s just… You’ve been so bummed lately, you know? And I wanted to do something to help you out – gah!”

Hayami suddenly slams into him, then, her arms snaking around him as she buries her face in his shoulder. Although she’s taller than Tanjiro, their bodies fit well together, almost like two long-lost puzzle pieces. He’s warm, delightfully so, and he smells like the bread his family’s shop makes.

“Thank you, Tanjiro,” Hayami mutters. “Really. Those notes you left… I love them. They mean a lot to me.” She squeezes him harder. “Thank you so much.”

Tanjiro releases a pent-up sigh. “Of course,” he says, his arms wrapping themselves around Hayami’s form. “You know that I’ll always be there for you, right? No matter what it is, thick or thin… I’m here for you.” He pulls away, then, just far enough that the two are looking face-to-face. “It hurt to see you so sad like that.” His face crinkles with concern. “I didn’t want you to be sad anymore.”

Oh, lord, is this boy an angel or what? Saying such sweet things like that…

“Tanjiro…”

Looking at each other like that, eyes glistening, cheeks rosy, Hayami doesn’t know who moves first. Maybe it’s the both of them, drawn to each other like magnets or something easily as cliché - it doesn’t matter, though. Tanjiro’s lips are ridiculously soft as they slide against Hayami’s; it’s a dream of hers that she’s never dared to speak of, one that she thought of frequently. But to finally be able to live it, to make it a reality…

Her mind goes completely blank as her fingers slink into Tanjiro’s hair. He’s just so soft, so tender, so dreamy. Here’s literal perfection standing before her, kissing her with a gentle passion. After a moment or so, Tanjiro pulls away; eyes fluttering open, Hayami looks to him, to his pleasant smile and mirthful eyes.

“That was nice,” she hums.

Tanjiro’s earrings clank as he bobs his head. “It was perfect,” he chirps. Pressing his forehead to hers, his eyes fall shut. “You have no idea how long I’ve been wanting to do that,” he confesses, his voice just barely above a whisper.

Something irresistible and warm caresses Hayami’s chest, whisks her away to a world of fairy tales and happy endings. She’s only heard of such feelings in movies and in writing, but to experience it for herself – well, it’s a little off-putting, if she’s being honest, but it’s so wonderful.

“Same here,” she replies. “What… What do we do now?”

Leaning back once more, Tanjiro opens his eyes, a hopeful gleam to them. “I guess… If you want… We can be together? You know, be more than friends?”

At that, Hayami can’t help but release a giggle. “Is the famous Kamado Tanjiro nervous? You’re one of the most confident people I know, and this is what gets you?”

“Hey, don’t be like that! I’m not experienced with this sort of thing…”

“I know, I know. I’m just teasing you, Tanji. I’d love to be more than friends.”

“Wait – seriously? For real? I-I mean… Of course! That’d be great! Yami-chan, I’m so happy!”

Again, that cheek-hurting smile comes back to Hayami’s lips. “I’m happy too, Tanjiro. I’m happy too.”

#kny #kimetsu no yaiba #demon slayer #kny x oc #kimetsu no yaiba x oc #demon slayer x oc #tanjiro kamado x oc #kamado tanjiro x oc #tanjiro kamado #kamado tanjiro #kny tanjiro #commission #hinokami-s

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hawkinsschoolcounselor · 4 years

Note

I respect your opinion, and even if our opinions do not agree, I always read your posts with rapture. My question is: if I understood correctly(correct me if I’m wrong),you think that Jancy and Jopper don’t have a deep connection, while Byler does? How does it manifest? Jancy and Jopper have always supported each other, they have a deep connection both emotionally and mentally. While Mike in Season 3 left a friend for a girl. I have nothing against Byler, just want to read your arguments

I appreciate your kind words. I can probably safely say that you are the first person to ever claim to feel rapturous because of me. The following is, naturally, my opinion, and, while I believe it to be an educated opinion, it is as such not meant to cause offense if it clashes with your or anyone else’s opinion.

think Jancy and Jopper are relationships with a mutual attraction. The problem is they haven’t really had much opportunity to develop in a healthy fashion. I don’t think either relationship is necessarily bad, but they are both still formed on a foundation of shared traumatic experience. Yes, each couple was acquainted before the supernatural horror entered their lives, but they weren’t close. They ended up growing close as they supported each other through the various crises that have cropped up. When we see them not in the midst of trauma, they are shown not really understanding each other very well.

Mike and Will, on the other hand, have known each other, and have been best friends, since kindergarten. Mike has always been intensely protective of Will and fearful of something happening to him. The thought of losing Will has been a great fear of his since season 1. Will and Mike trust each other in a way they don’t with anyone else. They reveal secrets to each other, sharing their vulnerabilities. Will starts to regain some semblance of control over himself after Mike relates the story of their first meeting. You can literally see his eyes change from a blank stare when Mike starts speaking to teary eyes when Mike finishes.

Season 3 was there to show us that every relationship had problems, but we never really got to see any definitive resolution for any of them. Jonathan and Nancy had no understanding of each other’s unique goals, insecurities, or hurdles, and this led to their fight. Jonathan couldn’t accept that Nancy, as a woman, needed to work twice as hard to get accepted. Nancy was blind to the fact that Jonathan couldn’t afford to blow the internship since he didn’t have family resources to fall back on. We never really see them apologize and acknowledge what each other are going through, and Jonathan even tosses Nancy’s careless Oliver Twist jab back at her. Meanwhile, Hopper and Joyce are just a mess. Joyce is still mourning Bob. Hopper asks her out to dinner, but also promises it’s not a date. Nevertheless, when she skips out on it to talk to Mr. Clark, he becomes enraged with her and bounces between admiration and callousness towards her for the remainder of the season. Neither one felt comfortable just telling the other their feelings. They finally agree on a real date at the end (where they weren’t even sure they would survive), but I don’t recall either one really apologizing (correct me if I’m wrong).

Mike and Will’s problems, meanwhile, aren’t about the failure to build the relationship, but, rather, the apparent (in Will’s mind) decline of it. It starts small, with Will being annoyed at Mike spending a lot of time with El (being late to the movie and bailing on Dustin’s radio booster). Still, we see that Mike is still intensely concerned for Will at the movie, and we see how much it hurts Will when it seems like Mike doesn’t care anymore. Their problems come across as more genuine because of their already established bond. Their fight is showcased as very dramatic, and perhaps even tragic, compared to the other two. We also see how each one is uniquely upset, with Mike chasing Will to apologize (Mike never apologizes that easily) and Will tearing down Castle Byers in anguish.

Mike and Will is also a unique situation in that they’re both boys. This makes it hard for both of them to even understand their feelings, let alone accept them. Mike is off trying to force a clearly empty relationship (all kissing, no shared interests or conversation) with El. He may well know that he has “inappropriate” feelings for Will, or he may just be unconsciously displacing his feelings onto El. Either way, comparing his “break ups” with both El and Will, we can see which one hurt him more. Meanwhile, Will is stuck in the cliche position of “gay kid in love with his best friend but has to pretend he isn’t.” This is the case whether he knows it or not. The fact that they’re both hiding feelings (from either themselves or each other) is a stark contrast to the trust they normally share. Their scene when Will packs up his D&D set for donation is a bit closer towards being honest, but still guarded. They use D&D as a stand-in for their feelings, with Mike afraid that Will is moving on, but Will reassuring him that it’s “not possible.” Neither one is ready just yet, but they’re letting each other know their feelings are still there.

Time makes relationships. Neither Jopper nor Jancy have really had the opportunity needed to grow compared to Byler. Jopper never really got going, and Jancy seems to have some problems that fans either don’t notice or prefer to ignore. If I’ve said it once, I’ve said it a thousand times, shared traumatic experiences do not magically make for good relationships. It’s not impossible for them to become closer, but it would have to happen as it would with any relationship. Supporting each other is only one part of a relationship, and Jancy and Jopper have some elements of that, though Season 3 shows us that it’s still sorely lacking. Mike and Will already had all of this before the show even started.

It makes me sad and angry sometimes when fans don’t even notice how strong Mike and Will’s feelings are for each other, but instead see new, struggling (and somewhat problematic) relationships as cute and romantic. Jancy and Jopper are both somewhat promising, but flawed, relationships that just haven’t had time, or the correct environment, to grow close. Byler has problems, but those problems are rooted in the fact that they were already very close, but in a situation where their closeness is changing meaning. I suppose it’s a bit of a cheat to have Byler ahead naturally simply because they were already written as close, but it still sets them apart from other couples.

#stranger things #byler

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arecomicsevengood · 4 years

Text

“Follow Your Own Star”

Lately I’ve found it hard to shake the feeling that everything of value is being destroyed, but we are being given simulacra in exchange, while we wait, to soften the blow. The relationship between the U.S. economy and what actually has value is basically nil, obviously, and COVID has only highlighted that, but beyond that, being in isolation has brought to light how much of what I consider “real” because it exists outside the bounds of money is nonetheless vulnerable. We’ve been given podcasts to fill our working hours with parasocial relationships where once we may’ve had genuine camaraderie with our coworkers. We’re given desultory political candidates to vote for in the absence of those who would govern in accordance with our actual beliefs. It feels like an elaborate art heist is taking place, where the masterpieces are exchanged for forgeries, and the endgame of those seeking to enrich themselves is to set a bonfire of all that’s made us human, all we’ve invested our true selves into. All this can occur only because our relationships have been made increasingly transactional already. I wondered at the start of quarantine how many couples, with the ability to see one another in the flesh compromised, had switched to having “sex” over Skype, how many intimate relationships were compromised by distance into resembling cam shows. Partly this curiosity was a way of comforting myself, as I came to the understanding that I would not be entering into anything approaching a real romantic relationship for the foreseeable future.

In the context of all of this, reading a book that feels reminiscent of the work of another artist feels like a minor thing, but it slips easily enough into the larger pattern. After reading Roaming Foliage by Patrick Kyle, I thought “Huh, this is very much a CF/Brian Chippendale thing.” Then, after reading Eight-Lane Runaways by Henry McCausland, I thought, “Oh, this is even more like a CF thing.” Both are, I think, appropriate for kids, which Powr Mastrs isn’t, but I also never read Powr Mastrs and felt like the thing that made it good was its BDSM pornography elements. People have been biting CF’s style for years — enough for him to address it with a little note in the third Powr Mastrs book, instructing them to “follow your own star.” Simon Hanselmann admits the similarities between the character design for Owl and a character in CF’s story in Kramers Ergot 5, Hanselmann’s subsequent popularity seems to suggest a moment where something becomes less of a direct influence and more just something that exists generally in the world. It’s art: Inspiration, influence, and appropriation are all part of the game. Reading Hanselmann, I’ve wondered what his work would’ve been like before exposure to his most obvious influences; reading these, I wondered instead if they would still have been made had Powr Mastrs 4 ever come out, to finish out the story and close the system; it feels like, in a transactional relationship between artist and audience, the fact of a work remaining unfinished makes it more socially acceptable to steal from. For instance, think of the debt Alejandro Jodorowsky’s The Holy Mountain owes to Rene Daumal’s Mount Analogue. It feels like an attempt to create something with an ending, to satisfy a desire for the logic to reach its conclusion. The comics fulfill a certain set of expectations, I found them a pleasant enough experience, satisfying on a certain level. However, on a deeper level, I found them completely unsatisfying, because they speak so directly to a sense of unfulfilled potential. They lack the thrill that CF’s comics provide, of totally transcending any expectations placed on them.

Measuring the impact made by CF, Paper Rad, and the Fort Thunder contingent is difficult to calculate, because there were so many radical gestures inside that work, and while some have been metabolized, others have not. The “reclamation of genre material in an art-school context” is maybe the most readily understood. Johnny Ryan’s Prison Pit probably wouldn’t exist were it not for these comics, but that’s such a “who cares” for me, such a dumbed-down and simplistic understanding of what makes these comics good. The silkscreening of covers is close behind, in terms of something that people really ran with. That’s fine, no one owns silkscreening, it looks great. What hasn’t really been reckoned with are the gestures against commodity fetishism. Paper Rodeo is progenitor of the free comics newspaper format, but the work that ran there is so much wilder than what you see in what followed, and most of it was anonymous. I understand why that was a gauntlet that wasn’t picked up, but is still one of the things that made an impact on its initial readership. Similarly, I haven’t seen anyone steal the CF format of the single-sheet xerox, with comics on the front and back. I guess that’s not surprising! But honestly? Sick format.

I’ve just been talking about comics, but Lightning Bolt playing on the floor is its own radical gesture, albeit one with an obvious precedent in the form of Crash Worship. The Forcefield oeuvre is its own thing. Those videos are great! The animation made out of photographing the cutting layers of multicolored clay… I wonder how much of this stuff hasn’t been picked up on because it’s the last stand of working with real world physical materials, before the coming of digital as the default medium for art students to work in. Obviously, the silkscreening has similar roots in physical media, and playing on floors relates directly to how you communicate with people when you’re in the same physical space as them. Real world community has distinct advantages, but many that came after took the trade for the benefits working digitally provides. Anyway. I could write a 33 1/3 book proposal for Lightning Bolt’s Ride The Skies that addresses all this stuff, but I also believe I would not be the best person to write such a book; I suspect those better suited would not be interested.

There is something so exciting about artists whose work feels overflowing with ideas, not just on a level of concept or drawing but also in terms of how the work is presented. That whole Providence/Picturebox crew was so abundant with this creative ferment that when I see others picking up on individual threads it makes sense on a certain level — you want more of a certain thing — but if it’s not backed up by something distinctly unique, as a reader I’m hyper-aware of what’s absent.

These artists also made books, and records, and it was their doing so that brought their work to a larger audience, including me. Not everything has to be a gesture against making money. But at the same time, radical gestures suggest the benefits made in fostering community work out better in the long term than leveraging oneself to be consumed as a commodity does. This is not to suggest that McCausland or Kyle are doing something wrong that will sabotage some sort of grand plan for utopia: I’m really just riffing here. If I buy electronic music mp3s online, I’m not necessarily going to lament the death of live music performance the same way I do when buying the mp3s of a jazz act. Looking at a contemporary superhero comic that feels dire and ugly will make me nostalgic for the Mike Parobeck comics of my youth, but a contemporary black and white zine exists in a completely different universe and might not remind me of anything. Certain things make you miss the world that was more than others.

It’s also worth noting that by all accounts Patrick Kyle has a bunch of people online ripping off his style but I have successfully been able to avoid such people. While Roaming Foliage is consciously modeled after the sort of weird adventure comics of not just Powr Mastrs, but also Brian Chippendale’s If N Oof, What I am most often seeing and thinking “that’s a ripoff” is the presence of these geometrical patterns which are also similar to design choices made throughout his oeuvre. There’s a chaotic, obfuscatory energy approach to comics that he works with frequently, but so much of his other comics feel dark, melancholy, or paranoid whereas this feels much lighter in its tone. At the same time, compared to the claustrophobia of Don’t Come In Here, having his characters move about makes for an adventure narrative. Watching them wander, interact, and be given quests and goals belongs to this tradition that’s not unique to the Picturebox artists — but the feeling that this fantasy material was arrived at through adventure games like Zelda moreso than Tolkien makes for this sort of… generational level of familiarity, rather than seeming to occupy some sort of Campbellian myth-space, if that makes sense. The strangeness of Kyle’s art, where backgrounds overtake figures, suggests a sort of PC glitching, almost like the Cory Arcangel/Paper Rad collaboration Super Mario Movie, but achieved through photocopier technology of blowing up and distorting images. It is the sensation of a feeling being chased after that makes the book feel less exciting and more melancholy, though subsequently, that darker feeling might make the book slot into Kyle’s oeuvre so much that bigger fans of his might not even notice the resemblance I’m seeing.

McCausland has a list of acknowledgments in his book which includes CF alongside Herge and Otomo. I can sort of see them all, but Herge especially is an influence that’s been so widely absorbed by comics as a whole that I really only feel particularly aware of it in the case of Joost Swarte or something. McCausland’s resemblance to CF is reinforced by things as molecular as a resemblance in the lettering, which is really odd. The figures all have this youthful smallness to them, and I can’t tell if the characters are meant to be young specifically or if it’s just the way he’s learned to draw. I can see Otomo, but it’s definitely approached through the CF filter. Other trademarks, like the rendering of geometric shapes, the patterns of parallel lines, seems integrated, highlighted, by the “racetrack” premise that gives the book its name. However, he distinguishes himself because his work is more constantly busy, with the same general level of detail. There’s also these trees in the background, which seem like they’re rendered as these painted soft grey daubs, a type of texture you don’t see in CF’s darkened pencil work.

His storytelling is different, prone to large spreads, or showing the same character multiple times in a panel as they move across the landscape. (The dimensions of Eight-Lane Runaways are considerably larger than those of Powr Mastrs.) There are nonetheless panels that seem exactly like CF drawings, but with a less cryptic sense of humor. It feels more populist, like it’s based around what a person liked, and in the act of working it out, subtracted the mystery. What would’ve been a detailed “money shot” in a CF sequence is here the baseline level of drawing detail that never gets subtracted from. It’s really fascinating to me how this makes it less good, I think many people would prefer it.

I wrote most of this before learning that Anthology is releasing a new CF book next week. You can order it and see preview images at the Floating World site. You can draw your own conclusions. CF’s on his own path such that you might not even note a resemblance between his new images and McCausland’s. We’re all living on the same planet, orbiting the same sun in an expanding universe, subject to the will of an accelerating time.

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lisatelramor · 4 years

Text

Choking Bittersweet

A DNAngel fic from me! I’ve had a few in the works, but this is the only one that’s got anywhere lately. This fic is a bit of a mess tonally but I can't bring myself to fix it as I'm a mess right now and I know I'm probably not going to want to go back and edit it some day. So fic. Basically I was reading a couple hanahaki fic and couldn't get the image of Satoshi coughing up flower petals out of my head because of course my brain would go "oh, Satoshi's suffering! This would be even worse!!!" because brains be like that. I binge wrote the latter half of this due to 'vent emotions via writing' and it shows >_>

******

A month before his fourteenth birthday, Daisuke coughed up tiny white petals into his hands. It wasn’t a surprise really. He knew that someone who had an unrequited love could end up with hanahaki. It ran in the family too. His mother had told him stories about his father getting it over her, so sure that she wouldn’t love him in return, until he finally confessed. So it wasn’t as terrifying as it could have been. He knew that it wasn’t something that killed quickly, and it could be cured just by getting the emotions caught in his chest out in a confession to the girl he loved. He knew that just because it felt like he didn’t have a chance with Risa, it didn’t necessarily mean that she didn’t return his feelings. And if it came down to it, if she didn’t love him back, he’d have the resolution he needed to move on and let the flowers die on their own.

Daisuke didn’t panic when the flower petals grew in number or when the occasional clump of blossom heads were coughed out of his throat. He just wrote a confession letter and waited for the right moment to give it to her.

There wasn’t anything keeping him from doing otherwise.

He had more to gain than to lose. So he waited for his birthday. It seemed like the thing to do; fourteen had always been the family’s lucky number.

And when Risa turned him down? He cried and the petals withered on his tongue and he tried to move on. Because for Daisuke it had never been a thought that he’d die from something as avoidable as hanahaki.

o*O*o

The Hikari were cursed. Most would say it was a curse of hubris, to try to create life, to create beautiful things, those things took life from them. Others would call Krad the curse. Satoshi agreed with both of those things as horrible misfortunes of birth into the Hikari line, but he thought his ancestors were blind in missing the other curse that seemed to follow them like a miasma. There were no, so far as Satoshi could tell, Hikari members of the main line who had been fortunate in love.

If the Niwa had Dark as a curse of romantic love, the Hikari curse was that they would forever fall for the worst possible person.

Satoshi’s grandmother had fallen in love with a soldier gone off to war and chosen the then-risky operation to remove the roots of her love rather than suffocate a love that was impossible to confess. Satoshi’s mother had fallen for a man she met once, conceived Satoshi, and had died rather than remove the feelings shortly after Satoshi was born. The Hikari family archives were littered with stories about lovers who died tragically young, of loves never realized, and premature deaths from flower-choked lungs.

He’d made a promise to himself that he wouldn’t fall in love. If Satoshi didn’t love anyone, then Krad couldn’t gain as big a foothold in his soul. If he distanced himself from everyone, emotions couldn’t grow. Friendship would never root and there would be no chance that anything would blossom. He’d make his heart and soul a barren ground and he’d do better than his ancestors.

No giving life to art no matter how tempting. No giving into emotions. No letting Krad drain the magic and life from his veins in his pursuit of Dark.

Three rules. Three simple rules.

It should have been easy. Satoshi was no stranger to denying himself wants (or occasionally needs). He had the self-discipline to complete university at age thirteen; he had more than enough discipline to control his thoughts and feelings.

What he hadn’t accounted for was that not everyone would accept being held at a distance. That they wouldn’t give him a choice. That the very boy who was his enemy would offer a hand in friendship time and again no matter how Satoshi brushed him off.

He didn’t account for how too much denial made his mental walls brittle. Made him weak.

When Satoshi felt a tickle in his throat the day after the debacle with the lighthouse, he didn’t think much of it. He got sick easily and they had been out all night near the ocean.

But the cough didn’t go away and when he coughed up pale yellow specks and a perfectly shaped pink petal, his first thought wasn’t about confessing. His first thought was how long he had left until he died. Because there was only one person it could mean, and he could never bend to tell him how he felt.

In Satoshi’s head, Krad jeered about the frailty of human beings and the weaknesses of their emotions.

He could get a surgery tomorrow if he wanted to. Kei would sign off and it would nip the whole thing in the bud before it even had a chance to properly blossom.

But.

There was warmth in his chest wasn’t just the pain of the cough, and for the first time Satoshi understood why so many relatives had suffocated on their love. The feeling was simultaneously the best and worst thing he’d experienced. Like being split open and vulnerable but with the chance that something good might come out of all that pain.

It was a ridiculous thought. Nothing good could come from such a foolish, dangerous love. Satoshi was a Hikari and Daisuke was a Niwa. Dark’s tamer. It was an unbridgeable gap.

And he reminded himself this over and over as bits of flowers started to bloom in his chest. Bit by bit.

He should do something about it.

There was a certain sort of morbid curiosity though about what would kill him faster; Krad, his body’s frailty, or his own suffocating love. …He supposed he didn’t care much for living anyway.

o*O*o

Daisuke had flowers for Riku less than a month. Much like Risa’s they were small and white and left him coughing white petals into his hand. Much like Risa’s they went away the moment he confessed to her. Unlike Risa, she liked him back.

The weirdest thing out of all of it was that Dark never had a flower pass his lips. His feelings for Riku and for Risa didn’t bring out hanahaki the way they did for Daisuke, and when Dark was in control, they might as well have not been sick at all.

Maybe Dark didn’t have an ability to catch it like the Niwa did. Maybe being a work of art kept him from catching frail human diseases. Maybe Dark didn’t love the same way Daisuke did at all.

Either way, the petals dried on his tongue and the love bloomed healthily, the hanahaki fading from his chest.

Yet again, Daisuke hadn’t feared at all.

o*O*o

It was amazing what people failed to notice, Satoshi thought, breathing careful and slow to avoid aggravating his lungs and throat. No one noticed Daisuke’s odd behaviors, not as himself or when Dark took his body. They just accepted it as eccentricity. They didn’t notice the pale white flower petals he coughed into a handkerchief and later threw away. They didn’t notice the flowers end. And no one noticed Satoshi carefully control his breaths and coughs to keep them from disturbing anyone. They didn’t notice the yellow specks on his handkerchief and tongue or the pink petals that cropped up.

No one noticed the first specks of blood on his handkerchief either.

Satoshi looked at it dispassionately. The flower in his lungs had thorns. He’d coughed a leaf once, and little straight thorns had lined the underside. A kind of rose, he thought, and it was probably slowly tearing into him, roots and vines and thorns as it stubbornly tried to bloom no matter how barren he tried to make his heart. He couldn’t be lucky enough to have some finicky, delicate rose that could die at the slightest mistreatment. He’d ended up with a hearty wild thing that would choke him until he gave into its ache or it killed him trying.

His throat tasted faintly of blood a lot lately. He thought that his disease might be spreading faster than he had read it would, but his ancestor’s accounts varied wildly, so there wasn’t any clear way to tell how fast was normal for a Hikari or not.

Satoshi cleared his throat softly and felt the burn in his chest urging him to cough. His breath caught and he breathed through the pain. He needed to catch Dark. There were only so many more opportunities he would have.

He cleared his throat again and Daisuke glanced his way, a small worried frown on his face. Perhaps not everyone was blind to their surroundings.

o*O*o

If asked, Satoshi would say he was managing his hanahaki well. He got through every school day, managed his job chasing Dark—although with a bit less literal chasing—and still did research in his spare moments. He rarely had major coughing attacks, and while there was blood when he did, it remained tiny flecks. He was still functional. He still had a grip on Krad. How he felt wasn’t important. It never had been. Satoshi had one purpose in life, and that was fix the mistake his family made with Dark and Krad or die trying.

No matter how much his step father liked to point out the extra goal of continuing the Hikari family line, it had never been a priority or even an objective to him.

But even Satoshi could admit that having hanahaki was impairing his ability to work toward his goal. Getting shoved into situations with Daisuke were only making his condition decline faster. (He was almost thankful that it had been Dark in Daisuke’s body for most of the Ice and Snow play rehearsals. Worse, almost grateful for Krad bursting free if only because for a moment he could breathe freely, even if the pain was no better than before.)

Things were coming to a head.

Satoshi sat on a bench. It was chilly but not too bad to sit outside. He should be watching Daisuke right now, but there were only so many hours he had patience to watch him go about his day while Satoshi’s breath burned more and more in his chest. Watching Daisuke from a distance always made the memory of Daisuke’s outstretched hand come to mind. If he took that hand, took the offer implied in that. The friendship and everything that went with it… Daisuke never once rescinded that offer.

He closed his eyes. He was so tired. Of all of it. He swallowed against the prickling feeling in his chest. In the back of his mind, Krad sneered at the feeling. He’d been pushing more the worse the feeling of the flowers got.

Satoshi pushed him back and down and breathed, breathed, breathed. His head felt wrong, like he was floating and dizzy.

He wished it was as simple as taking Daisuke’s hand. If it was, he’d take it in a heartbeat, change their fates and their enmity. He wished—his breath caught and stuck. He choked, coughed, clutching at his chest. The world spun and he crashed to the ground, struggling to breathe.

o*O*o

Satoshi woke somewhere warm and soft with voices speaking above him. ‘Ah,’ he thought, ‘hospital.’ And yet there wasn’t the sterile scent or the too cold air, no beeping of machines or IV drip hooked up to his arm. So not a hospital. He opened his eyes and almost laughed because of course. Of course it would be Daisuke who found him. Of course it would be Daisuke’s home that he woke up in with Daisuke having a furious whispered conversation with his mother a few meters away.

Satoshi blinked at them and then at the fluffy white creature he knew was Dark’s wings sitting close to his head. It stared at him through large red eyes, not showing one thing or another. He supposed he should be glad it didn’t attack him on principle. His chest and throat ached. When he tried to sit up, his breath caught and the world spun for a moment.

He must have made a sound because suddenly Daisuke was there, one hand steadying his shoulder and his face far too close, scrunched up with innocent concern.

“Satoshi,” Daisuke said. “You passed out at school and weren’t waking up. I didn’t know what to do and ended up carrying you home.”

“You should have called an ambulance,” Daisuke’s mother said, her emotions smoothed away into a dispassionate mask like she hadn’t been fiercely arguing with her son moments before.

“I panicked,” Daisuke said, sending an irritated look over his shoulder.

“I’m fine,” Satoshi said, pulling back from Daisuke’s support and touch. His chest hurt.

Daisuke turned a frown on him. “You passed out.”

“I’m aware.”

“That’s not exactly fine.”

What could he say? That this happened? That he got sick easily in the first place? He looked past Daisuke at the room instead. It had to be Niwa’s bedroom, a scattering of personal items lying around and a work desk with the day’s homework laid out untouched on it. He saw cameras hidden carefully along the walls when he looked up, probably traps built in as well. This was a Niwa household, who knew what secrets it held. He was probably the first member of his family to set foot in one of their homes in generations. Perhaps the only one ever.

“I should go home. Thank you for your concern, but I can’t stay here.”

“You can’t just leave!” Daisuke said looking panicked. He put a hand on Satoshi’s forehead and Satoshi just. Didn’t. Breathe. “You don’t seem to be feverish right now, but you’re not okay! And you live alone…”

“You did collapse,” Daisuke’s mother said slowly. Niwa Emiko. Satoshi’s notes on her were far and few in between; his mother never met her. Still, she met his eyes in challenge and said, “You might as well stay for dinner.” There was something in that stare that made him feel cold. She knew, he was sure. She knew what was wrong with him and she didn’t like what she saw. But she was also going along with Daisuke’s wishes for some reason. She’d let him in here and was letting him stay for dinner.

This had to be some sort of cruel joke from the universe. Why? Why would they even show the slightest kindness toward him considering…? His chest ached, but so did his mind, Krad rousing slightly at the surge of his emotions.

Satoshi let his breath out slowly, pushing Daisuke’s hand aside.

“Please?” Daisuke said.

And Satoshi couldn’t deny him when he looked so earnest and concerned. Daisuke truly should only be concerned for himself.

“…Just for dinner,” he relented.

Emiko pasted a smile on her face. “You can rest in Daisuke’s room while I finish up dinner. Daisuke, why don’t you lend a hand?”

“Wait, but—” Emiko threw the door open, dragging Daisuke with her and leaving a dark-haired man who looked very similar to Daisuke standing awkwardly in the hall outside, a hand raised to knock.

“Ah,” the man, who based on appearance alone had to be Daisuke’s father. “It looks like they’re going to be busy.” He scratched sheepishly at the back of his head the way Daisuke did. But unlike Daisuke, there was something sharp in the glance he threw Satoshi’s direction like he was sizing him up.

Satoshi breathed as regularly as possible even though that close encounter with Daisuke had him aching to cough.

“Actually, could I speak with you a moment?”

Niwa Kosuke had married into the Niwa family. An art history student who had gone on to specialize in the Cultural Reform after becoming entangled with the Niwas. He had a few well received articles in the community, but Satoshi knew he was most likely the one researching and choosing a good percentage of Dark’s targets. There was always someone doing that in the Niwa line, and it certainly wasn’t Daisuke. He didn’t look like much, but neither did Daisuke; that was part of what made him dangerous.

“I’m Daisuke’s father,” Kosuke said, taking Satoshi’s non-answer as permission. He walked in and sat next to the bed and Satoshi, still struggling to breathe, didn’t have much choice in whether or not they had this conversation. “I’ve been wanting to see who this Satoshi Daisuke talks about.”

Daisuke talked about him? His breath caught, wetly, and he struggled to breathe through it.

Kosuke watched him with knowing eyes. “You know, sometimes your face looks very adult. Is that your face, or someone else’s?”

Satoshi’s hands closed into fists beneath Daisuke’s blanket. There was a pause, something heavy between them before Kosuke took another breath.

“I wasn’t born into the Niwa family,” Kosuke said, “So the feud between your family and them isn’t my business. But it gives me a different perspective than everyone in the middle of it. I don’t know where the things I see will lead, but I think you and Daisuke might just be close to a solution, more than anyone else.”

Satoshi wanted to leave. Now. Didn’t want to hear some man try to lay bare things that no one spoke of. There was no reason to speak of them because they couldn’t be changed. He took a breath. “I don’t—”

“I know,” Kosuke said, “I’m just a meddling adult, but I can’t stand seeing kids like you two suffer. Daisuke is always worrying—”

“Stop,” Satoshi said, the word choked as his throat threatened to block entirely.

Kosuke stopped, looked him over again. “You don’t have to accept what hurts you,” he said. “Even if—”

“Please stop,” Satoshi said again. “I don’t…know what you’re getting at.”

Kosuke sighed softly and gave Satoshi a sheepish little smile that was all Daisuke. “I see, well, thanks for letting me ramble then. Although… you should try to make a choice soon.”

“Pardon?”

“About your illness.”

Satoshi held very still and refused to cough. Refused to breathe wrong. It hurt.

Kosuke looked up and met his eyes, smile still friendly, but sadness in his eyes. “You’re nearing late stage hanahaki, correct? If you leave it much longer, you’re going to end up in the hospital or worse.”

“I don’t know what you mean.”

There was pity there too. And kindness that stung worse than the pity. “I reached that stage myself when I was a little older than you. It feels like the end of the world, but I promise that it isn’t.”

Satoshi looked away. “Somehow I doubt it was ever that bad for you,” he said. For one, he doubted Niwa Emiko had been in a relationship at the time. And also wasn’t his enemy.

“Hmm,” Kosuke said. “Perhaps not, but everyone’s feelings are their own. Ah.” He reached into his pocket. “One more thing.” Kosuke held out two small objects, one a ring, and one a bottle. Satoshi, against his better judgment, let them be placed in his hand. “That ring has a seal on it that might help you. Dark used it once. It can suppress your…shadow. But only once.”

A ring that could hold Krad back? That was tremendously valuable. Where on earth could Kosuke have found something like that? Let alone feel comfortable giving it to him? “Where…?”

“You can find a lot of things if you poke around long enough. Including treasure,” Kosuke said with a mild-mannered smile.

“And the bottle?”

“That… It helped me once. Its contents can hold off hanahaki’s progress temporarily. It’s not a cure, and you can’t use it very long, but it helps.” He looked at the bottle with a mixture of warmth and sadness, like he was remembering something bittersweet. “I tried to put off dealing with it a lot longer than I should have.”

A bit more time… To what? Catch Dark? To feel himself slipping away even more as Krad tried to become him? Of watching Daisuke smile and offer hands of friendship Satoshi could never take? It was a gift, but it was just as much a curse.

“You know,” Kosuke said, “it wouldn’t be a bad thing to let Daisuke understand you. That sort of trust might be hard, but I truly think it’s possible that you can both shake off the chains of the past and make a brighter future.”

Did he mean Krad? A confession to Daisuke? Satoshi stared at the man and felt a pang of jealousy even as he was glad that, for Daisuke at least, this wouldn’t be a curse. He had someone on his side who would watch over him. Encourage him.

Kosuke gave a wave and stepped out. Satoshi clutched at his chest and tried not to choke. The bottle, something crystal and beautiful, surely an artwork in its own right, had liquid in it and a tiny dropper. Satoshi let a single drop fall on his tongue and it was bitter, horribly bitter, like poison. And like weed killer, he felt the flowers in his chest wither. Not gone, but weaker. Weak enough that he could take a breath. There was still blood on the back of his throat, blood on his tongue under the bitter taste. He wiped his mouth on a tissue from Daisuke’s desk and a single withered petal was crumpled in its mess.

A gift of time and agency. Daisuke was truly lucky to have a father like that.

Satoshi slipped the ring and bottle into his own pocket just before Daisuke came back into the room.

o*O*o

Emiko had never had hanahaki. She’d seen it in so many others, but she’d never had it herself. She had, before Kosuke, never been in love, and had only looked toward people who already were in love with her for potential romantic partners. She couldn’t have unrequited love in that setting. She hadn’t loved Kosuke when she first met him, and maybe it was a mercenary way of thinking, to only look for people who loved her, who could fulfill the requirement of a father for the next generation of a line of phantom thieves. But even if she hadn’t loved him at first, she’d grown to love him.

She didn’t know for sure if the Hikari boy was in love with her son, but he was in love with someone and it was killing him.

Emiko wouldn’t intervene with that. But Kosuke was kinder than her, and that was what had ultimately made her fall in love with him. He was kind and saw more than other people gave him credit for, so if he saw something in that boy, and Daisuke did as well… She wasn’t going to kick him out. She didn’t have to like it. But she’d feed him and let him spend a night under her roof. She just hoped her boys knew what they were getting into.

o*O*o

Satoshi was a fool. He should have left after dinner. Before dinner. Climbed out the window and fled. His heart was weak though, so he stayed. He ate food Niwa Emiko cooked, accepted what the rest of the family put on his plate, and let Daisuke cajole him into taking a bath and sleeping in his bed.

Not together. Thank goodness or he’d have died. Choked on flowers and died on the spot.

Satoshi had looked at Daisuke’s room with all the personal items that showed love and care and life. Looked at the painting he’d done and ached. “Daisuke, someday I’ll destroy you,” he’d said, heart feeling like it was going to burst, lungs burning, burning, and Daisuke had looked him in the eye and said back, “Not me! No matter what, we won’t be destroyed.”

Satoshi didn’t know what to do with that. With how certain Daisuke sounded or how it made Satoshi want to cry. Or maybe to reach out and bury his face in Daisuke’s hair and pretend he could believe him.

Instead he laid down in Daisuke’s bed that smelled like him and was warm and soft and waited until Daisuke was asleep to study his face. Defenseless and open. Peaceful. Things Satoshi never was nor could he ever be.

The vial Kosuke gave him held back the flowers just enough that he didn’t choke.

Krad stirred and for once he wasn’t full of anger. He was contemplative instead. Emotions were complicated things. For people like Satoshi and Daisuke, for Krad and Dark, one form’s emotions impacted the other’s. Even when those base emotions were so far apart, there was bleed over. For Satoshi, Krad’s rage. For Daisuke, Dark’s confidence. For Dark, Daisuke’s love. For Krad…

There was something simultaneously bitter and gentle as they watched Daisuke sleep. Satoshi wasn’t entirely sure where some of Krad’s feelings began and his own ended. “I never wanted to become deeply connected with you,” Krad said, voicing Satoshi’s words. “Daisuke, I always envied you.”

And yet he loved him too. Krad sighed, brushing a stray lock of hair from Daisuke’s face. “You have no idea what you do to him,” he said. “It would be kinder to kill you in your sleep.” But there was no violence in the words, no violence in his thoughts. No intent to harm there at all for once so Satoshi did nothing. Krad carefully shifted Daisuke to his bed with a tenderness that was Satoshi’s feelings, not his own.

A feather drifted free from his wings and they left it behind.

“You can’t go back now,” Krad said as they left through the bedroom window. “We can’t go on like this at all.”

Satoshi pushed that emotion down, all the emotions down, and Krad folded back away without fighting for once because Satoshi knew he was right.

There were flowers and thorns growing in his chest as he stood barefoot in his apartment bedroom, and there was no going back from this at all.

o*O*o

Dark never had hanahaki. He’d experienced it vicariously through his tamers, but roots had never grown in his lungs or flowers choked at his throat. He loved people. Loved girls his tamers loved, but it had always felt like a borrowed love. A lingering effect of the fact that they share a body. The love was there and then gone, just like Dark himself was.

It was different with Risa. Yes, Daisuke might have started loving Risa, but it hadn’t lasted, and Dark might have fallen for Riku first, but he hadn’t experienced this before, this divergent interest from his tamer.

He wasn’t sure if he liked it honestly. It felt wrong on a level he couldn’t explain, not that he ever would to Daisuke. They weren’t supposed to like different people. That wasn’t how it worked. But then Daisuke wasn’t supposed to go befriend a Hikari, and the Hikari wasn’t supposed to want to friend him back. It had to be driving Krad insane which would almost make Dark like the kid except for the whole, y’know, trying to catch/seal/kill him thing the Hikari had going on. Things were weird this time around.

Dark was pretty sure he really loved Risa, and he wondered if he could get hanahaki the way his tamers did. But even if he could, he wouldn’t get it with her. She loved him back and he’d known it from the start. It was Daisuke who had trouble. Daisuke who found himself coughing up petals and hadn’t even felt too worried beyond the ‘I’ve fallen in love with the other sister, how could I’ that Dark didn’t really blame him for being conflicted about. It was kind of an awkward situation if either of them stopped and thought about it too hard.

Thankfully Dark wasn’t usually one for introspection.

It was probably for the best that Dark would never have hanahaki. Maybe works of art couldn’t love that way in the first place.

o*O*o

Satoshi didn’t go back to school. It was a hard choice to make, but school kept pushing Daisuke closer and choking off what little time he had left Satoshi wasn’t even sure he wanted that time sometimes, but he knew that if he actually wanted to make any progress on figuring this curse out, he couldn’t keep watching Daisuke day in and day out.

He’d never realized how much he could miss someone he barely allowed himself to speak to.

Emotions were terrible cruel things. Like Pandora’s Box, once he let them out, all of them, the good and the bad, were overrunning his life. And like Pandora’s Box he hadn’t let out hope so he just felt more and more exhausted by it all.

Kei definitely knew something was up. Satoshi hid the flower petals, hid the vial Kosuke gave him, was very careful not to cough around him or use the blood-speckled handkerchiefs. It was only a matter of time though. Kei would confront him and try to get him to have the surgery. Late stage was a risky surgery. He could hear Kei’s words in his head without him needing to say them. “You have a duty, Satoshi. Don’t make the mistakes of your ancestors. Get that emotion dealt with and catch Dark.”

The truly scary thing was that Satoshi was starting to wonder if the hanahaki would keep choking him even if he did confess to Daisuke. It happened sometimes. No one was sure if it was because the person in love couldn’t accept the rejection or if they couldn’t let go of that love even after knowing it would always be hopeless.

“You’re a fool,” Krad said in his mind. “Just like so many Hikari before you.”

Satoshi blocked Krad out with volumes of family history and art records. With research for something, god anything, to remove Dark from Daisuke without killing him. He was starting to think he’d have to make it himself. Nothing good would come from trying to make something like that himself.

“Ah yes,” Krad said sarcastically. “Kill yourself trying to save your foolish love. You’re all the same in the end. You try to feel nothing at all while feeling too much.”

“Go away,” Satoshi said.

“There’s the gun if you want to die so much.”

Satoshi’s hands trembled on yellowed, crumbling pages. “No.” And that artwork was broken.

You can fix almost any Hikari art if you really want to, a voice that could have been Krad’s and could have been his own whispered. They were blurring more. Slowly becoming one person and Satoshi didn’t want that. He was terrified of becoming that. His great great grandfather had gone mad, Krad seeping into his mind until he’d almost killed his own wife as he lashed out at the world.

Dark went away for the Niwa line once romantic love was actualized. When someone chose the tamer over Dark.

It wasn’t that clear cut for the Hikari.

“You’re a disease,” Satoshi said to Krad. “I just haven’t found a way of getting rid of it yet.”

Krad simmered in the back of his mind and sent him a mental image of Daisuke, defiant and with his own blood-red wings as he defended Dark when Satoshi had sealed him in the mirror. That catalyst that started the end for real. Krad’s emotions were a mix of hatred and sick admiration. The sort of admiration that made butterfly collectors pin insects to boards. Satoshi sent back the memory later. Daisuke’s hand extended even though he was about to pass out. The compassion and kindness that act took. “Weak,” Krad said.

“Strong,” Satoshi countered in his head. Those were both moments of strength. The strength to fight back and assert his emotions, and then the strength to be vulnerable and kind even though Daisuke had just been hurt. Satoshi wasn’t that strong. He was no stranger to being hurt, but he couldn’t keep reaching out the way Daisuke did. Asserting himself didn’t do much with Krad who sometimes just felt stronger.

The roses in his chest dug in their thorns and Krad’s disgust roiled through him at Satoshi’s resulting coughing fit. A whole, five-petaled pink rose, stem and little leaflets and thorns and all ripped its way out his throat. Satoshi stared at it a long time before crushing it between the pages of the book he’d been reading.

How cruel that hanahaki killed with something beautiful.

o*O*o

Argentine happened. Risa kidnapped and another Hikari artwork gone rogue that shouldn’t have had the strength to do so. Argentine in love with Qualia and broken, unable to fully process or express what he felt. Satoshi felt pity for him. Krad felt disgust.

Satoshi extended a hand to Daisuke with roses crowding the back of his throat and felt something like acceptance when Daisuke took it.

Satoshi probably wasn’t going to live to catch Dark, but maybe… Maybe he could make the best of this anyway. Satoshi didn’t want Daisuke to love him back anyway. Nothing good ever came for Hikari lovers. If he could have someone who understood even a little…

He had to sneak another drop of Kosuke’s potion to make it through the rescue effort. The potion was slowly killing him too. The comparison to poison that first time he tasted it hadn’t been too far from the truth. There were so many things he was slowly dying from now he didn’t even bother guessing which would kill him first anymore.

They saved Risa and Daisuke thanked him and Satoshi… Was it love? Hate? Fear or longing? He didn’t know but it gripped the roots in his chest and he didn’t have a choice about whether or not he could breathe through it. The coughing fit came and Satoshi spat out blood and pink petals and yellow pollen to Daisuke’s horrified expression.

“Satoshi…”

He’d hoped to hide it until the end. Satoshi smiled grimly, blood on his lips. “I’m fine.”

“Please tell me you’re going to confess. Please.”

Satoshi just kept smiling. There was an echoing ache in his chest as Daisuke looked more distressed. He took a step back, then another. “I’ll see you around,” Satoshi said.

He left with a sinking feeling in him, one part having a secret shoved to light, another the thought that Daisuke might not understand after all. Not the way Satoshi did what was going on with Dark and Krad. That hurt. It hurt like walking on broken glass. And Krad was there in those hurts, pressing himself into the wounds, using that pain to gain more ground.

What happened to keeping a soul barren of emotion?

Worst of all, Satoshi still loved Daisuke as much as ever. It hurt more, but the warm feeling he’d first realized was there in the center of that pain. Like a fire.

Fires, Satoshi thought, also hurt. He was the fool that kept letting it burn him.

o*O*o

There was no warning when Kei showed up. That was what visits from him were always like, but Satoshi had grown complacent lately with work as a go-between.

“You’re sick,” Kei said when Satoshi entered his own apartment. He stood over Satoshi’s kitchen trash bin, looking down at its contents with a neutral expression that told Satoshi more than one of his pleasant-fake smiles would. In the bin was an empty bottle of cough syrup, bloody tissues, and many odds and ends of flowers.

“You’ve stooped to going through my trash,” Satoshi said in return, just as neutral.

“Were you going to mention it at all?”

Satoshi met his gaze, silent.

Kei’s lips thinned in a displeased line. “I’ve scheduled an appointment to talk to a surgeon. You are attending it.”

“I don’t want to,” Satoshi said quietly.

“This isn’t about what you want,” Kei said. “It’s about what needs done. You’re too far gone to wait longer, and you haven’t done the obvious thing and cleared the problem the normal way.”

“It’s fine the way it is.”

“It’s killing you.” Kei’s stare was biting, cutting into him like it wanted to slice him open and dissect how his mind worked. “But I suppose for you, that is the point.”

Satoshi looked away.

Kei sighed like he was an unruly toddler instead of someone who had been caring for himself perfectly fine for years without his supervision. “However poetic an end you see this, it’s a waste. If you were a bit more proactive you would have caught Dark by now, but you’ve let these emotions take root instead. You have a duty to—“

“Maybe,” Satoshi bit out, “for once in my life it don’t want to think about that duty. Maybe I want to be fifteen and feeling something that is normal. Maybe I want—”

“To die?” Kei said suddenly looming over him. Satoshi took a step back. “Oh, Satoshi, I’m not going to let you die any sooner than is natural for you.”

“Hanahaki is nat—”

“Curable. It’s curable,” Kei said over him, pushing him back a step, another until the wall was at his back. “This can be fixed and so can the problem of Dark. There just needs to be a few more sacrifices.”

Wasn’t it enough, what he’d given already? What all of them had?

“You can’t make me get the surgery,” Satoshi said.

“I can,” Kei said. “You aren’t in your right mind and I’m your guardian. I’m doing this to protect you.”

No, he was doing it because he needed Satoshi. Because Satoshi was the last of the main Hikari bloodline and the last of Krad’s tamers. Adopting Satoshi had opened doors to the Hikari archives that Kei never would have seen otherwise. He could never believe that Kei would act altruistically when Satoshi was concerned.

“You’re going,” Kei repeated. “As for hunting Dark… I’ve let you try your methods. Going forward, you’ll be using mine.”

Satoshi felt cold. Kei cared much much less about the safety of Dark’s tamer. “Don’t,” Satoshi said, regretting the moment the word slipped past his lips.

Kei patted his shoulder in a way that felt condescending. “Get the surgery,” he said, “and we’ll talk after.”

If he got the surgery, he wouldn’t care about Daisuke at all anymore. He’d feel nothing. Krad would probably override everything. But Kei probably knew that. He probably guessed who made love bloom in him in the first place. This was a warning and a punishment.

“Or get rid of it the old fashioned way,” Kei continued. “If you can. Either way you’re going to that appointment.” He moved away and Satoshi remained frozen against the wall as Kei let himself out without so much as a goodbye.

In his head, Krad laughed, a wild sort of rage simmering in him eager to have a crack at Kei’s methods. Satoshi slid to the ground and gripped his hair. He wouldn’t. He wouldn’t let either of them.

o*O*o

The hanahaki specialist’s office was strangely cheerful. It might have something to do with all the charts of flower species, which were actually rather depressing if Satoshi lingered on the thought of them, but it was much brighter than most doctor’s offices he’d been to. The doctor herself was a calm, middle aged woman who seemed perfectly content to ignore Kei’s presence in the corner and focus entirely on Satoshi himself.

“Well,” she said, looking over the symptom sheet Satoshi had filled out in the waiting room with Kei watching him like he thought he’d run, “it looks like most of your symptoms are edging toward late stage hanahaki. You’ve had symptoms for over six months?”

“Correct.”

“Hmm. May I take a look at your throat, please?”

Satoshi obediently opened his mouth and let her shine a light down his throat.

“Every case progresses at its own rate, but your throat is worse than expected even with your late stage symptoms. Your flower, did you determine its species?”

“It’s a rose,” Satoshi said, pulling out the sample he’d been told to bring. “I never bothered to look up the variety.”

“A rose?” The doctor looked up sharply.

Satoshi blinked at her sudden increase in intensity, but handed over the sample. “It didn’t look like a domesticated one.”

The crease in her eyebrows went deeper. “I see. This does look like a wilder variety.” It had five simple pink petals and a bright yellow center, a branching stem with bedraggled leaves and a myriad of small, straight thorns. His chest and throat burned at the memory of coughing it up. “Typically with roses, we hope that they’ll be domestic ones. They’re less hardy.” She looked up at him. “They also tend to be cases we hope to see here early on because plants with thorns are much more dangerous even at an early stage than soft-stemmed flowers. I’m surprised you aren’t worse.”

Satoshi knew without a doubt that he had Kosuke to thank for that.

“Roses, especially wild ones, are riskier procedures too,” the doctor continued solemnly. “Between the hardy rootstock and the thorns, there’s risk of permanent damage even in a middle stage operation let alone a late stage one. You should have been in here months ago.”

“He’s been hiding his symptoms,” Kei said from his corner, “or I’d have made him come sooner.”

The doctor didn’t even look his direction. “I’m going to have to ask that I speak to my patient alone for a moment, if you would.”

Kei lifted a brow. Satoshi could see the thought about arguing cross Kei’s face before he decided it wasn’t worth it. “I’ll wait outside then.”

The doctor waited until Kei shut the door before she spoke. “I like to hear in my patient’s own words why they chose to come or wait,” she said. “You’re not the first person to hide their symptoms from a guardian, and you won’t be the last. I want a better understanding of the situation before I advise you on anything.”

“Is it really necessary?” Satoshi asked.

The doctor smiled. “You’d think not. But hanahaki is both a physical and a mental disease. I’ve found that in curing it, you need to understand the patient’s mind as well as the symptoms of their body. For example…” She took Satoshi’s sample and pulled a book from under the preparation counter. “Hanahaki is a phenomenon that’s been studied for as long as humans have been experiencing it. And through the years there have been documented trends. Certain flowers show up in certain situations. You’d think it would be a flower that fit the person who is sick, or that best suits their love, but in practice it is a great deal more about how that person feels about their own emotions and the person they’ve fallen for than any straightforward symbolism.”

“I can’t see how it’s important why one flower was chosen over another. It’s the same end result.”

“It can determine how likely it is to kill you,” the doctor said. “For example, how long do you think someone who had belladonna growing in their lungs would live? When I wasn’t much older than you, I fell in love with my pen pal and had irises growing in me. Very pretty flower, also poisonous coincidentally. If I hadn't decided to get the surgery early on, it would have poisoned me before it suffocated me.”

“That has nothing to do with the emotions though,” Satoshi pointed out.

“No, it doesn’t,” the doctor said with a smile. She flipped through images, comparing Satoshi’s flower to them. “Yours… A Carolina rose. Native to North America.”

“And?”

“And I can tell from previous people who’ve had this flower that you view the emotion of love as dangerous, at least in this situation.” Satoshi felt deeply uncomfortable. The doctor folded her hands in her lap, looking at Satoshi attentively. “Please, help me understand the situation.”

He didn’t want to talk to this woman, didn’t even want to be here. He hated being vulnerable, but she’d already seen a large part of how he was feeling just by looking at his flower. “This is only between the two of us?” he asked finally.

“Of course. If I planned to tell your guardian I wouldn’t have kicked him out. Anything said here will remain between the two of us.”

Krad snarled about people interfering where they didn’t belong, but Satoshi ignored him. He could lay out the facts and that would be that. “I didn’t want to fall in love with anyone. Attachments have never brought anything good in my life. So naturally when I did fall in love with someone, it was the worst possible person to have feelings for.”

“In what way?”

Satoshi stared her down and she didn’t even flinch. “A person in feud with my family,” he finally relented.

“And this person dislikes you for your family?”

“No.” Satoshi could almost laugh. “No, they want to be friends.”

“So you’re worried about how your family would react?”

“I know how he would react.” It would be just as uncompromising as being forced to come here.

“And you don’t feel that sharing your feelings with this person would work out well. Is it the thought of rejection?” The doctor’s head tipped to the side, infinitely patient with how little Satoshi was expanding on anything.

“That’s not the problem. I know I would be rejected. This person is already in a relationship.” And it was stupid to feel anything about that fact. If Daisuke wasn’t in a relationship, nothing would change. He still wouldn’t feel anything for Satoshi other than friendship.

“And you’re worried that confessing would complicate things?”

“No. My feelings wouldn’t change theirs. I don’t want them to feel guilty though.”

“And do you think that there would be trouble for this person if their family learned about your feelings?”

“Why would they care? It wouldn’t make them dislike me anymore than they already do. The trouble is me.” He hadn’t meant to say that last part.

The doctor sighed. Her fingers tapped her leg, one-two-three, just once. “If you were less far along, I’d recommend a support group to work through accepting what you’re feeling, but you’re too far along for that to help. But Hiwatari-san, what you are feeling, for whoever this person is, is not wrong. Emotions are just emotions.”

Emotions weren’t just emotions though. They were fuel for Krad, and they meant he was slowly losing himself. He said nothing.

“Hiwatari-san,” the doctor said, taking a different track, “this person is your friend, correct? Or they view you as one?”

“Yes.”

“If you came in here a few months, or even a few weeks ago, I’d advise getting your surgery as soon as possible. But with your flower type and as far along as you are, this would be a very risky procedure. However,” she said sitting a bit straighter as if that would convey the severity of the situation, “the most effective method for curing still remains resolution for your emotions. Talking to your friend and accepting whatever outcome the conversation holds is the least dangerous method at this point. You’ve avoided it because of family history between you both and—excuse me if I’m reading this wrong—because you see your feelings as a failing in yourself. But it remains that if you continue to do nothing, you will die.”

“I know that.”

There wasn’t any judgment in her eyes, not like there would be from Kei, and no pity like Daisuke would have for him. There was sadness, but she was someone who dealt with hanahaki on a regular basis. There had to be plenty of people who’d consulted her and ended up dying from inaction.

“I advise you to talk to your friend. If they care about you like you seem to believe they do, they’ll accept what you tell them even if they may not reciprocate.”

Sure, tell Daisuke and potentially have Krad try to kill him in the process because Satoshi would be focusing on those emotions with their target right there. “And if I can’t find acceptance even after that?”

“Then you attempt the surgery. I would put it at a seventy-five percent success rate if we operated in the next week. Past that, the chances of properly removing it go down exponentially.”

A week. Kei would demand to know the time frame and probably schedule something as soon as they left. Satoshi took a breath, felt it burn like all breaths did lately.

“Thank you for the assessment,” Satoshi finally managed to say. How many people that came here came back? How many cured themselves naturally versus a surgery?

“I hope you take it to heart,” the doctor said.

Satoshi gave her a curt nod. She stood and moved to the door.

“I’ll let you talk to your guardian, and come back around to answer any questions you might have in a few minutes. You can schedule a follow up at the front desk.”

Satoshi gave another bland thanks and felt hollow inside. When Kei came back, he told him as little as possible, but Kei asked the doctor questions when she returned. She didn’t once give any indication about what he told her in confidence. It likely didn’t matter though. Given enough time, Kei would figure it out on his own anyway. There weren’t many people Satoshi spent time with in the first place.

They left with a follow up scheduled and resounding silence between them.

o*O*o

He hadn’t talked to Daisuke since Risa’s rescue. A dumb part of Satoshi had hoped that would help something, but considering it was two days past the doctor appointment and Krad was restless in his mind, it hadn’t mattered. Distance and time were doing very little in helping the situation, even if they weren’t making it necessarily worse.

Satoshi rolled the vial Kosuke had given him between his fingers. It didn’t get any less full with use. It was definitely magic, but he could tell he was nearing the end of time he could use it. There was something about how it tasted, something about how he felt afterward that warned him, like grains of sand falling bit by bit into an hourglass in his mind. One the one hand, he was forcibly having a surgery in less than a week that would either kill him in the process or leave him without the warm-painful sensation thinking of Daisuke brought. On the other, he ran and died from the disease in his lungs.

Or he talked to Daisuke and hoped for closure.

The tickle in his throat was impossible to resist, flaring up to fiery pain the second he let himself cough. Blood and petals. Nothing fully formed at the moment, but it left his breathing wet and raspy and Satoshi leaning against his kitchen counter feeling exhausted even though it was only morning. It was harder to sleep when laying down felt like suffocating lately.

There was a scuffling sound, something he almost missed with the heavy sound of his own breathing, but he looked up to see a familiar lizard looking at him.

“Oh,” Argentine said. “That looks bad.”

Yes, blood-flecked flower petals and a mix of blood and spittle on his face and hands was certainly not a healthy look, but it didn’t explain why Argentine was there at all.

“Where did you come from?” he rasped.

“Under your door,” Argentine said, answering the literal question instead of what he meant.

“Why?”

“Master Daisuke was worried about how you felt.” A tilted head and blank eyed stare. “Rightfully.”

Another cough rattled in his chest. Satoshi rested his head on the counter as it left black spots flashing across his vision. Damn it all, why did he have to fall for someone kind?

“Oh dear,” Argentine said emotionlessly.

Satoshi sent him a glare even as his chest kept stubbornly spasming.

“I suppose I have my answer.” The lizard crawled back toward the door.

“W-haa—it!” Satoshi wheezed. Argentine was gone. Dammit. He couldn’t do much about it through, just slide to the kitchen floor and focus on getting his breathing back to something of a normal. His mouth tasted like blood and bitter-sweet rose petals. If he ever smelled or tasted the things again if he survived this, he would probably throw up.

Well. That went wonderfully. Argentine would report back that, what? Satoshi was coughing blood and flowers? Well, Daisuke already knew he had hanahaki. Satoshi could probably expect a frantic phone call in the future.

…Or his door could suddenly slam open as a frantic Daisuke let himself in, lock pick still visible in one hand. “Satoshi!”

Satoshi stared at him dumbly. He had lost a bit of time focused on his body, but he didn’t think it was enough time for Argentine to return to Daisuke’s home and Daisuke to run here. Which meant Daisuke had been nearby waiting for a response.

Daisuke froze at the sight of blood streaking the counter, Satoshi’s hands and his face. “Oh my god.”

“It looks… worse th—ahn… it is,” Satoshi got out around a stray cough. A pink petal clung to his lip. He was too tired to wipe it off. Besides, it wasn’t like he had any dignity left at the moment.

“Satoshi, you should be in a hospital,” Daisuke said, suddenly in his face and frantic, wiping blood from his face.

Satoshi jerked back, banging into the sink cupboard. The place Daisuke touched felt like it was burning. His lungs were burning. Everything hurt and Daisuke was there and caring and he never asked for this. He wanted to freeze off feelings and get through his goal to catch Dark, and maybe didn’t care about anything that happened after that. He couldn’t handle this.

He coughed again as his lungs seemed to heave, flowers suddenly blocking his throat. Thorns dragging and scraping. He heaved, heaved again, barely conscious of Daisuke’s arms supporting him as he finally got air enough around the obstruction to cough and expel it out. Six mostly-formed roses fell in clumps of two from his lips, catching on his tongue and gums and lips. They looked more red than pink. “Why,” he said as he could finally drag air for words, “are you… here?”

“Oh my god, are you dying? Oh no, oh no, I should call an ambulance, oh gosh—” Frantic hands on his shoulder, arm, neck, face, flitting like butterflies.

“Daisuke,” Satoshi said, more of a hissing wail of a desperate man than a spoken word. “Why?”

There were tears in Daisuke’s eyes and a bit of blood smeared on Daisuke’s face, probably from Satoshi flailing as he tried to breathe. He looked scared, horrified. Satoshi had tears of his own on his face and he didn’t know when he started crying because pain hadn’t been enough to make him do that in years. Maybe it was just the way he was feeling too much of everything all at once and he just wanted it to stop.

“I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I wanted to make sure you were okay, you’re not okay, what do I need to do to make you okay?” Daisuke babbled, gripping Satoshi’s shoulders like a lifeline. Not giving him a chance to really answer, Daisuke kept talking. “You need to fix this, get the surgery or… or something. Who, who is it so you can tell them, please, I don’t want you to die!”

And Satoshi’s tears came harder along with that struggling feeling of Krad rising, in part because they werere hurt and because Satoshi’s emotions were right there and vulnerably exploitable. He clutched his chest, trying to breathe, to keep it all down, Krad, the flowers, the emotions, but there was too much. It was like trying to cup water in his hands, it just kept draining free no matter how hard he tried to stop it. “Can’t—”

“You can! You’re dying you can still fix this—!”

“You’re part of the problem!” Satoshi tried to say, but it came out sounding more like “Yera-plem.”

“I don’t know what that means!”

“Oh,” Argentine cut in, in human form behind Daisuke. “Is he actually dying?”

If this wasn’t happening to him, Satoshi would probably have found all of this at least mildly amusing. But it was happening to him so it was just distressing. He made an inarticulate sound and clamped down on Krad in his mind because forget dying, Krad escaping would be the worst scenario.

“Oh no, he’s not responding!” Daisuke shook him slightly. “Satoshi! Argentine, get the phone and call 119!”

Satoshi grit his teeth. Could they be quiet for two seconds so he could get back in control? Daisuke was a terrible emergency first-responder.

“Satoshi don’t die!”

Why did he even love him? Oh, right, because he was the only one who would care enough to check in on him and cry over finding him covered in blood. Satoshi grimaced up at Daisuke’s tear-stained face and felt something in him break. This was such a mess. “Sorry,” he choked. It would be awfully poetic if he died like this. Like one of his ancestor’s disastrous lives forever immortalized in their journals, just one more beautifully tragic moment to end a family’s legacy. It didn’t get much more poetic than dying in the arms of someone you loved.

“Don’t say that,” Daisuke protested.

Krad still struggled under his skin, but it was strangely easy to hold him back all of a sudden. Everything hurt, but Satoshi also contrarily just felt warm. Daisue was here. He wasn’t actually dying, he didn’t think, but it felt like in that moment it would actually matter in some way if he lived or died. To Daisuke, it mattered. It was like a revelation. Not Satoshi the last Hikari, not Satoshi the police officer, not Satoshi-Krad’s-tamer, but Satoshi the person he was under all those duties was someone that mattered to Daisuke. Not for what he was or what he could do. Just for being himself.

It wasn’t deserved and he certainly hadn’t asked for it any more than he’d asked to fall in love with Daisuke but it made Daisuke mean all the more to him as well. Maybe that was what gave him the courage to forget about all the reasons he shouldn’t say anything and let the confession fall shaky from his lips. “I love you.”

Satoshi was crying again, blood and tears and snot making it all the harder to breathe. “I’m sorry. I love you.”

“Wh-what?”

Inside, Krad was furious with him for saying it, but it was still strangely easy to keep him back.

Petals fell from Satoshi’s lips, a wheeze of breath as he laughed weakly. “Who else could it be, Daisuke?” Where was he getting the air for these words? “I’ve been in love with you since the Towa no Shirube.”

Daisuke stared down at him wide eyed, arms tight around Satoshi’s shoulders. He was so warm. Satoshi clutched the hem of Daisuke’s shirt, the closest thing to hold onto. “You… but…”

“I didn’t mean to. I… I shouldn’t. I’m sorry.” His throat felt like he’d swallowed glass. He couldn’t look at Daisuke’s face.

Those warm hands gripped tighter before he’s suddenly crushed to Daisuke’s chest. “Why didn’t you say something sooner?” Daisuke said, sounding like he was crying again. “All this time…”

Satoshi had half expected to be dropped or pushed away, but of course he wasn’t. This was Daisuke. This was Daisuke and he was kind.

“You could have died!”

Satoshi wanted to point out that he could still die, but it felt overwhelmingly nice to be held.

“It’s not worth dying for. Even if I can’t… There’s always someone out there. It’s not worth it.”

Satoshi laughed, once, it hurt too much to do it again. “You’re my first friend. You’re the only person who’s made me feel anything good in years. I only felt anything because you wouldn’t let me shut you out. I’m… I can’t. I can’t trust people like you do.”

Daisuke made a helpless, sad sound and held him tighter.

“I don’t want to feel anything. It’s so much easier not to.”

“Why didn’t you get the surgery?” Daisuke asked. His voice vibrated against Satoshi’s cheek.

“And be left with all the negative emotions and nothing good?” Satoshi almost laughed again, the memory of main the only thing keeping him from doing it. “I’d rather die.”

“Don’t say that!”

“I’m going to die young anyway. No one with Krad has ever lived past thirty.” Might as well die feeling something and of his own mind.

Daisuke’s hold went iron-band tight. Satoshi would probably end up with bruises from his fingers. There was a long silence that Satoshi couldn’t interpret. Or maybe it was only a silence on his end. Daisuke could ask Dark anything.

“Daisuke?”

“No.”

Satoshi blinked as Daisuke pulled him up so he could look him in the eye. His eyes were puffy and red and Satoshi had stained his shirt. Still, Daisuke had a fierce look of determination on his face.

“No,” Daisuke said again. “You’re going to live. I might not be in love with you romantically, but Satoshi, you’re an important friend to me. You’re going to live and find a way to be happy. Even if I have to help you seal Krad myself.”

The idea of Daisuke being capable of doing that was ridiculous. He didn’t even have any idea what Dark was or how he was affecting him let alone how Krad worked. But the way he said it almost made Satoshi believe it was possible. “You can’t seal Krad without sealing Dark.” Not permanently.

“We’ll find a way.” Daisuke smiled tremulously. “…Satoshi, how are you feeling?”

Satoshi blinked. He felt like a mess. He hurt all over, his throat was raw and aching, he couldn’t breathe through his nose—he could breathe better than he could this morning. Not perfectly, but so much better than he had anytime recently unless he took one of Kosuke’s potion drops. Satoshi blinked again and felt his throat.

“Your flowers, are they wilting?” Daisuke asked.

“I… I don’t know.” The love was still there, still unrequited. But. But Daisuke cared for him. Not the same way. But he cared and Satoshi had finally admitted out loud how he felt. It didn’t hurt as badly as it had all bottled up inside.

Outside there were sirens suddenly blaring and they both jumped and turned toward the door as they definitely stopped outside. Daisuke turned toward Argentine who still had a phone to his ear.

“Oh, I think they’re done crying on each other,” Argentine said in a monotone into the receiver. “He’s probably not going to die.”

“Argentine,” Daisuke said, somewhere between grateful and annoyed.

“You told me to call an ambulance,” Argentine said calmly. He looked at Satoshi. “Love isn’t supposed to hurt you like that. Are all humans this broken?”

“It’s a thing that happens sometimes,” Daisuke said. “But we’re going to be okay. Right?” he asked Satoshi, a little too anxiously.

Satoshi looked back, lost. Were they? But he wasn’t coughing up flowers right this moment and Daisuke was still holding him and warm. So they were better than they had been before. That was more than Satoshi could have hoped for. He nodded and Daisuke looked so relieved that he knew he’d given the right answer for Daisuke’s sake at least, even if it wasn’t wholly true.

The paramedics walked through the open door; Daisuke had never actually closed it behind him when he burst in. They took one look at the blood and flower petals and two red-eyed teenagers and took control of the situation. The flowers might not be choking him, but Satoshi’s throat was still bad enough that they wanted him to go to the hospital anyway. It was a pleasant surprise that Daisuke went with him, refusing to let go of his hand at all.

And Krad was still not breaking free.

For such a painful, exhausting morning, Satoshi supposed it was actually a pretty good day.

o*O*o

“Well,” his doctor said, “the good news is that your flowers are wilting. It’s too soon to say if the roots will wilt as well, but so long as you keep in the same mindset as you have been, I’m optimistic that it’ll be a complete cure.” She smiled. “I’m glad you were able to talk to your friend.”

Satoshi looked off to one side, a bit too embarrassed to be properly attentive. He hadn’t really thought he’d have another conversation with the hanahaki doctor. After all, it wasn’t like she had to talk to him to operate. But since the operation was no longer on the table…

“Your friend seems like a good kid,” she added. She’d briefly met Daisuke, who hadn’t left Satoshi’s side at the hospital until the doctors shooed him away to do a more in depth test and have his actual hanahaki doctor look him over.

Thankfully he’d left before Kei showed up. Kei had also left as soon as he was sure Satoshi wasn’t immediately dying, promising they’d have a talk later. Satoshi had to figure a way around that.

Satoshi squirmed, but there wasn’t really anywhere to go, not while he was hooked up to machines and drips. He hated hospitals. “He’s… kind,” Satoshi mumbled.

She nodded like he said a lot more than that. “As I said last time we met, hanahaki is as much a mental disease as a physical one, so try to hold on to the feelings of resolution and whatever else you’re feeling. It will help everything clear up quickly.”

“He doesn’t love me back romantically,” Satoshi found himself sharing, perhaps at the novelty that he both had emotions to work through and an adult who seemed to be trustworthy not to use them against him. “I knew he wouldn’t love me the same way I love him.”

“But?” the doctor prompted gently when he went silent.

“He cares for me platonically. Which… is more than I ever let myself hope for.” He could still feel Daisuke’s warm arms around him and see the raw emotion in his face.

“A good friend, then.”

Satoshi nodded.

“I’m glad. Now I do have to say there are some complications.” Satoshi sighed. Of course there were. He rubbed his throat absently. It still hurt like hell. “Yes, that,” the doctor said, catching the motion. “Even though the flowers are withering, they did still leave a good deal of damage to your throat and some upper parts of your lungs. I have a few medications that will prevent infections and promote those areas to heal, but you have to be aware that some parts of your lungs might never be as strong as they were before. Plants with thorns are vicious on their bearers.”

Satoshi laughed drily and winced when it felt like glass. Right, still no laughing.

“Well,” the doctor said, equally dry, “you would know that firsthand.” She set aside the chart. “I’ll have them fill your scripts. You shouldn’t have to stay overnight, but they might keep you for observation just because of the amount of damage to your throat.”

“Thank you,” Satoshi said.

“Keep working toward feeling better,” the doctor said, smiling. “I’m sure you have that full recovery in you.”

Full recovery. Satoshi wasn’t sure, but it was easy to be optimistic at the moment. Reality was sure to crash back down eventually, but until then he felt the most content he’d ever been considering he was in a hospital.

He could truly almost believe that one day they could do it. Seal away Krad and let Satoshi live life freely for the first time. There were dozens of reasons why it wouldn’t work, maybe hundreds, but without Kei or Krad right in his face at the moment with talk of duty and animosity… Daisuke’s conviction weighed more. And maybe some part of him wanted to keep living to see that future.

o*O*o

The conversation with Kei did eventually happen. But technically Kei couldn’t complain because Satoshi had ‘taken care of the problem’ like he wanted and by some miracle Kei still didn’t know that it was Niwa Daisuke that was the center of the whole thing. Who knew how long that luck would last. For a little bit longer at least, Satoshi was holding back Kei’s methods. Maybe with a bit more luck, he and Daisuke could make progress before Kei made his move.

Satoshi tended to be a pessimist at worst and a realist at best, but he was choosing to try to be cautiously optimistic this time.

o*O*o

Satoshi wasn’t sure how to feel, being in the Niwa family home again. Last time had been an incredibly stressful time and he’d been literally dying. This time was still stressful, but a different sort of stress.

“How’s your breathing?” Daisuke said at the door, one hand on Satoshi’s arm. “You’ve been taking your medicine?”

“It’s fine, and yes, I’ve taken my medicine. I’m fine.” It was a relief that Daisuke wasn’t flinching away from him or treating him strangely now that he knew. It was concern, the same concern he usually showed toward Satoshi, perhaps a bit more smothering, but he’d seen Satoshi at his worst so it was to be expected.

“Good.” Daisuke pulled him past an entryway that showed signs of traps all over, all currently not active. He’d been asleep last time and hadn’t left through the door. It looked like Daisuke had training in every moment of his home life if this hall was any indication. “Mom said we could use the study.”

“I’m surprised she’s letting me in the house let alone in the study.”

Daisuke shrugged. “Dad talked her around.”

“Ah.” The house was nice. Rich, but of course it was with the Niwa living off generations of stolen goods. They probably didn’t even have day jobs. He smiled wryly to himself. It should bother him more than it did on a moral level, but at their core, their families were equally corrupt. He was learning to make peace with it, especially since he’d seen in Towa and Argentine how Hikari artworks could thrive under Niwa care where before they had fallen to neglect. Daisuke let them into a room filled with old, carefully maintained books, and odds and ends that weren’t Hikari art, but were old and valuable artefacts.

Daisuke waved a hand at a desk with two seats. “Go sit down, I’ll go get some tea for while we work.”

Satoshi sat. There was a wave of fond exasperation in him when Daisuke waited to see that he was comfortable before leaving, but that was fine. It wasn’t the all-consuming love and pain of before. That love was still there, but it was settling into something less painful. It would probably always be there, but he felt like he might one day make peace with that instead of the emotion choking him from the inside. His doctor had been a great help with that.

A soft rap of knuckles on a door frame caught his attention and he turned to see Kosuke’s sheepish smile poking around the door. “Mind if I say hello?” he asked.

“It’s your home,” Satoshi pointed out.

Kosuke’s smile widened. “So it is.” He slid into the chair across from Satoshi. “You look better than the last time I saw you.”

“I’m no longer dying,” Satoshi said with dry humor. “Or I suppose not as quickly.” He pulled a little crystal vial from his pocket, held it out. “Thank you, by the way. I don’t think I would have made it this long without your help.”

Kosuke took the bottle, holding it so the light caught it and left glittering squares of brightness across the desk. “You might have,” he said optimistically. “Either way, you’re still here.”

“I am.” He wasn’t quite at peace with that but he was getting closer to it.

“Have you thought any more about what I said back then?” Kosuke asked.

“Would I be here if I hadn’t?” Kosuke had wanted him to work with Daisuke and put their trust in each other. He was here now, doing just that.

“Maybe.” He smiled. “I’m glad you changed your mind.”

Satoshi hummed. “I still am not convinced we can do it. But we’ll probably have a better chance by pooling resources than alone. And…”

“And?”

“None of us have thought to try before.” Understandable considering the enmity. And Krad. Krad was not happy at all, and some of that bleed over was making Satoshi feel more easily irritated by small things. But Krad was getting bleed over too and feeling far less lethal toward the Niwas because of it. “There still isn’t much time but… perhaps this will work. It’s not as if I got very far alone.” When everything was working against him it was pretty hard to achieve anything.

“I’ll lend my help however I can,” Kosuke offered.

“We’ll have to see about negotiating access to some of the Hikari documents.” He wasn’t about to let someone run around in his family’s private information unsupervised, but another set of eyes would be welcome.

“The same for us.” They shared a smile, both calculating the others’ probability of misusing information no doubt. It was a risk for both of their families as much as it was an opportunity.

There was still a chance that Satoshi wouldn’t live to see Krad or Dark sealed away, or that Krad would leech into his mind until he couldn’t recognize himself before they managed to fix anything. This could blow up in their faces and kill all of them because magic and curses were volatile things, and art with souls even more unpredictable. He would worry about that when the time came.

For now, Daisuke returned with tea and another determined expression. And Satoshi took a breath of floral steam without blood or bitterness on his tongue. For now they worked together to maybe put the feud to rest for good.

For now, Satoshi did not regret.

********

I used Victorian flower language for the flowers because why not? Flower meanings taken from here For anyone curious, Daisuke's flowers For Risa and Riku are : Alyssum for Risa (worth beyond beauty) and Angelica for Riku (inspiration) Satoshi's flower, as shown in story is a Carolina Rose, which is "love is dangerous" according to my source (Meaning both how Satoshi feels about love and indicative that Daisuke is a dangerous person for him to love) Kosuke's flower for Emiko was Motherwort which, while being ironic since Emiko's dream was to be the mother of the next phantom thief Dark, means "concealed love," as Kosuke initially hid his identity when leaving tokens of affection toward her.

I like flower language.

Played with the thought of making it requited love when planning it, but this wasn't the fic to do it and in the end I wasn't in the headspace to write actually romance, just project emotional angst. So. Hope you like it despite the sad..

#dnangel #fanfiction #onesided satoshi/daisuke #hanahaki #warning for suicidal ideation and blood #my writing

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elite-polos · 5 years

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My parents looked at me funny when I said I related to Polo

Now, to be fair, they haven’t seen Élite. All they know is that Polo is *the murderer* and that...well, that’s probably a valid reason to be concerned that their daughter sees herself so much in him. But as I thought about it, I realized that a lot of people in the fandom don’t understand how someone could ever empathize with Polo, so I figured I’d write a post about it. (Honestly, this is more for me than anyone else, but if it resonates with someone then that’s great too.)

Just to preface: Polo has done a lot of things wrong. Like, A LOT. I don’t deny that. I don’t think it’s okay that he killed Marina and I don’t necessarily think the way he’s dealt with it is the “right” way. While I empathize with several of his actions and behaviors, I don’t claim that he’s purely a victim in all this. In saying I identify with him, I am not condoning everything he’s done, nor am I saying that I would ever do the same things.

But the truth is, I see myself reflected so much in Polo’s character. I understand why some people can’t look past the bad things he’s done, and I’m not just glossing over them and pretending they don’t exist, but I see more to him than that.

From the start, I related to Polo’s exploration of his sexuality. Like Polo, my first significant relationship was a “straight” relationship that lasted several years. I knew I was bi, but I’d never had the chance to explore that other side of me. My need to experience the other side of my sexuality was one of the reasons that relationship ended, just like how Polo’s desire for those same experiences contributed to his relationship with Carla falling apart.

I relate to the way that Polo loves. He was so deeply in love with Carla that he was willing to do anything for her. He lost sight of logical reasoning when he decided to get the watch from Marina, blinded by the need to prove how far he’d go for Carla. (This also has roots in his insecurities, which I’ll get into later.) The same goes for Cayetana (whatever the feelings are that they have for each other) when he helped her set up the fake charity event. For the people Polo cares about, he will go to extreme lengths, even if it’s clearly not in his best interests. I, too, have been in a romantic relationship where I gave way too much of myself to the other person without thinking about the effect it would have on me, so when I saw that in Polo it really struck a chord with me.

I relate to Polo’s relationship with Christian, too. To feeling a certain way for someone that just doesn’t feel the same way back. To trying and trying but not being able to get through to them the way you want to. To the hurt caused by chasing after that person. The depiction of their dynamic really came at a...relevant time for me, I guess.

In season 2, when he has his one night with Ander, I realized I’d again also been in a very similar situation (although not with someone that was in a relationship). I had a group of three best friends, and two of us decided to mess around together. Later on, the friend group ended up falling apart, and whose fault was it? Yep, that’s right, mine. It was almost too natural to put myself in Polo’s shoes in the situation with his friends.

I started to identify with Polo even more deeply during season 2 when they began to explore his mental health issues in more detail. Polo, like me, discovered at a young age that there was something in his brain that made him different from everyone else. He’s been seeing a psychologist for years for his anxiety, he takes medication for it, etc., and I’ll admit that I don’t watch a whole lot of TV shows, but he’s the first character I’ve connected with that goes through those same issues as me.

I also related to the way he tries to portray it to others. He hid his struggles from Guzmán, his best friend, for four years, probably partly due to the stigma, but also because he wants to give off the appearance that he has a perfect life, that he’s normal. I know how he feels, for everyone to think that he has it all together, to be held to such high expectations. Once I became aware that people saw me that way, I felt the need to do everything so that no one would see the cracks in the façade. All the brokenness, the inadequacy, it only comes out when there’s no way to hold it in anymore.

Polo also bottles up his feelings because he’s afraid to burden other people with his problems. I struggle with feeling like a burden to other people too, all the time. Of course, you could argue that Polo burdens other people with his problems way too much, but I’d say it’s just a few select people that he trusts, people that he should be able to confide in. And then when he confides in Ander, just to have Ander get mad at him and tell him he should’ve kept it to himself? I totally understand where Ander is coming from, but man, I also understand how terrible Polo feels when he just confirms he should’ve kept his problems inside.

You know that scene when Ander finds Polo on the bathroom floor, and Polo says, “I’ve been here for over an hour, and no one noticed”? Yeah, I felt that. I’ve felt like nobody notices my presence enough to realize when I’m gone. Hearing him say that hit me hard. When it got to the point where he didn’t even think anyone would miss him if he were gone forever, I literally had to pause the show and take a moment because it was just...a lot.

Polo doesn’t think he matters to people. That’s why he feels the need to give so much in his relationships, why he panders to others in his friendships: he doesn’t think he’s worthy of being appreciated and loved simply for who he is. Honestly, Polo helped me see that in myself. Helped me realize that I need to find those people who will love me without me having to constantly prove myself.

But after all this, there’s one other thing I have in common with Polo.

I believe in second chances. Always.

I get that some people just aren’t like that. Some people think that if you do something wrong that’s big enough, that’s it, you can’t be forgiven. I respect that and I’m not trying to get anyone to change their mind. But that’s not me. I always believe that someone can be forgiven for their actions, and that they can grow and learn from them. And I want to see Polo given that opportunity, because I think that’s what anyone would want if they were in his place.

Anyway, I just wanted to write this in response to all the hate I’ve seen toward both Polo and Polo stans. No, I don’t just like him because he’s attractive. No, I don’t think he’s an innocent baby who has done nothing wrong (if I refer to him that way it’s either out of affection or joking). No, I don’t like him for the things he’s done wrong either.

I like him because he’s the character I have the most in common with. And it sucks to know someone I identify with so much is someone that so many people hate.

Just a disclaimer, I know this is just a TV show and I don’t take any of this too seriously. Like whatever characters you like, dislike the ones you dislike, it’s not that deep. I just had some thoughts and I wanted to get them out there.

If you made it to the bottom of this, thanks for reading! Feel free to respond respectfully with any thoughts :)

#elite #elite spoilers #polo #i wrote a thing

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bearingwater · 5 years

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Aquarius Sun, Taurus Moon: A Contradictory Personality

Proud and domineering, the Aquarius Sun Taurus Moon personality can be very soft on the inside and prefers to keep their life as private as possible.

People born with the Sun in Aquarius and the Moon in Taurus are a good combination of emotionality and intellectuality. They can’t function without a purpose and they are usually highly efficient at what they set their minds to.

Rational and flexible, these natives make great executives. All they need to do is to wish to be the managers. More interested in personal satisfaction rather than oriented to attract the attention of the public, they are never too domineering or the ones to try to impose their will on others. They are more the type that goes with the flow.

Aquarius Sun Taurus Moon combination in a nutshell:

Positives: Light-headed, composed, and determined.

Negatives: Stubborn, conflictual, and obsessive.

Perfect partner: Someone who can offer them the stability they need.

Advice: Be mindful of how they come across to other people.

Some people may think of them as snobs because they are so detached. But they aren’t. When they’re observing others, they don’t care about the financial aspect or the position in society. They are looking for what interests one may have and if an individual won’t make them curious, they will simply not bother to get to know him or her better.

Personality traits

Aquarius Sun Taurus Moon people want to live in peace and to have security. They will be tactful and gracious all the time, in order to avoid conflicts.

Usually quiet and private about their personal life, these natives are also determined and good enough to obtain what they want from life without struggling too much.

This determination may make them stubborn while they will be young, but it will definitely become concentration towards good purposes with age.

These Aquarians are known for their patience. They will always be aware that forcing things to happen can’t bring anything good. When it comes to their sociability, they are sympathetic and nice. But it’s essential they learn not to give up on themselves if they want to make others happy.

Their friends will always want them around for a piece of advice. Interested themselves in the arts, they will have many friends who already are artists. Or perhaps they will get together with art directors and managers of museums.

They have executive skills too, so talking about how to organize a sculpture display can be their favorite subject of conversation.

Individualistic and ambitious, Aquarius Sun Taurus Moon natives will set high goals for themselves. As natural born leaders, they will be followed by many. And they won’t mind being the ones who rule over others. As a matter of fact, it makes them feel like they are doing their part in making the world a better place.

Some of the plans these natives come up with can be either very daring or just funny as some have no chance at succeeding. Confident, they will defeat anyone in a debate because they have the intelligence and the observation skills to identify their opponent’s weaknesses.

Not to mention they would be more knowledgeable. The compassionate, revolutionary and unusual Aquarius is helped by the sensitive, stable and down-to-earth Taurus to be more practical and more of this world rather than a wanderer in the realm of abstract notions.

Many will think these Aquarians are too charming to be true. But they are only noble romantics with a more practical and composed attitude.

The Aquarius Sun Taurus Moon people like to study, and their ideas are perfectly suitable for the big picture. They know how much they’re worth and they would never compromise their principles and ideals just to seem different or smarter.

It’s true their beliefs can change from time to time, but in their own time, not because someone wants them to think differently. Less hasty than other Aquarians, these ones prefer to make plans and to think of all the pros and cons of a situation.

It’s possible they will talk to fortunetellers and psychics because they really believe in the occult. They think highly of themselves and can be so stubborn to the point of arrogance and self-obsession.

Being more easygoing and taking others’ opinions into consideration are advisable if they are to be happier. Never believing in what people are saying and doing only what they want can impede them from making their dreams come true. Not that they aren’t sociable and amiable.

On the contrary, they usually think of friends more as of family. But they simply want to do things their own way. Superstitious, they will take chances but not before they have performed a few personal rituals meant to bring them good luck.

Many will like them for being in control of their own actions all the time, not to mention how attracted others can be to their style. It wouldn’t matter the fact that they are eccentric and unusual, people will still find them reliable and worthy of all the attention.

If Aquarius Sun Taurus Moon people won’t allow themselves to think only of their negative traits, they will be able to accomplish anything they want in life. The fact that they are rigid and stubborn can influence them in a very negative way.

As young adults they will experiment with all kind of styles, political parties and philosophical theories. But they will stick to only a few as soon as they’ll decide what suits them best. And they usually don’t change their mind about something after they have made their choice.

A lover with a mind of their own

Romantic, dependable and devoted, the Aquarius Sun Taurus Moon lover will continue to be loyal even if the situation would be the best in the relationship.

They will be devoted more than they will respect the rules for they are known for not having tolerance for conventions and norms.

Their position in life is usually center-left and it wouldn’t matter what they are doing for a living, you can be sure their influence will be left in their work. They don’t necessarily want to fit in and to be a part of something, so their partner should expect them to rebel and never conform.

They need a lot of space to express their individuality and a lot of freedom to do what they want. When they’re someone’s lovers, they are playing every role: from companions to best friends and siblings.

Moon Taurus people know what they want from a relationship and that is serenity, security and longevity. They are strong people who enjoy living the simple life with the one they love the most.

These natives will never try to over-complicate a situation or to read between the lines. But they can’t be moved from their own beliefs and opinions. They are so stubborn, it’s possible they’ll become irrational supporting what they believe in.

And it won’t be refusal that makes them like this. It’s more like a survival instinct for them: to not accept what others want and suggest. For them, change is something dangerous. When advancing, these natives need to do it step by step.

The Aquarius Sun Taurus Moon man

Under the influence of both Uranus and Venus, the Aquarius Sun Taurus Moon man is calm, but his nervous system is very fragile. It’s true it can be contradictory to have sensitive nerves and calmness at the same time, but that’s how he’s built.

The unconventional and the out-of-the ordinary are his main objects of activity. But he needs as much tranquility as possible if he’s to be efficient.

Aquarius doesn’t mind chaos that much, but Taurus simply can’t stand it when someone or something messes with their routine. Water Bearers are born revolutionaries, Bulls need a quiet home and to set up roots somewhere.

For these opposing qualities, the man with this Sun Moon combination will be considered hasty and chaotic. However, the more successful and older he gets, the more he manages to sync his contradictory personality.

He doesn’t want fame, but he may obtain it. Not that he’ll be very enthusiastic about it. He will use it, just like he is using his money: for different humanitarian causes.

His dreams are going to space and teaching people how to make money or have more confidence in themselves. He is interested in both business and the human psychology.

His Moon won’t allow him to give up the famous stubbornness of the Bull. Women will like him because he’s romantic and seems mature and reliable. But he will want all the advantages of a relationship without committing.

This guy doesn’t mind curvy girls who are flighty and have grace, like Marylin Monroe. He will do the chase because he likes it and has doubtful morals.

It’s good he’s not a liar no matter how much he wants to get a girl into his bed. Anyway, women will fall for him easily.

The Aquarius Sun Taurus Moon woman

Sweet and always good to people, this lady doesn’t have strong opinions. But she’s stubborn over who knows what. She doesn’t mind when people are doing things their way because she’s looking to please and to be liked.

But she can change this about her in a moment. If you see her crossing her arms and being furious, you should know you’ve done things the way she didn’t want you to.

As one of the most sensual Moons in the zodiac, she’s also a romantic. Even as a senior, she will still turn heads. When it comes to her partner, he needs to be playful and at the same time hard working because she’s the perfect wife.

As a mother, she will provide and be sympathetic with her children. Some specific characteristics of her personality make her very lovable. For example, she doesn’t try to change anyone. People are who they are, and she loves them.

This is one important rule in her life and it says a lot about how wise and soulful she can be. This lady will dress up to show her eccentric side. And she’ll surprise with strange hats or a colorful tie.

When it comes to love, she prefers the unusual and for her relationship to develop at her pace. She may get a husband younger than her or live with a boyfriend without ever getting married.

The Aquarius Sun Taurus Moon woman lives by her own rules. There’s no one and no institution to change that about her. It’s possible her childhood hasn’t been that happy and her life a complete mess until her 30’s.

After this age, she will bring some security in her life, managing to have a home and to pay her bills on time. Because she loves good food and high-quality things, she will probably have some good furniture and some expensive wine or French cheese in the fridge.

She’s aware life’s more than possessions, but she still wants them badly. She usually believes we get rewarded after we die, so she’ll give her best to keep her integrity and be honest in this life.

#aquarius #taurus #taurus moon #astrology #zodiac #sunmoon

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all-of-the-imagines-for-eve · 5 years

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Lonely ~ E.C. (Part 3)

A/n: A REALLY great song for this is "Too Good at Goodbyes" by Sam Smith. This is definitely based off of that song so listen to that if you want the full experience!

Word Count: 5100

My wide eyes rested on my hands, the gears in my mind turning slowly as they were clogged with too much information. I tried to think but it was all empty and numb and nothing was working. I felt a hand on my back and looked over to see a concerned Embry. I groaned, placing my forehead on the cool table and lacing my fingers into the roots of my hair.

There was a chuckle. "Well, we finally got a proper reaction. Not Bella 'Nothing Phases Me' Swan." A few people laughed along and I found my shoulders moving, my chest loosening at the action.

Taking a deep breath, I sat up and exhaled sharply. "Okay. Werewolves. Awesome." I looked around, meeting eyes to make sure that I was getting this right. "You can change whenever and you can read each others' minds when you phase. You're incredibly hot-" I cut off, snorting, and a few of the guys chuckled along. "Natural opposite of vampires. It's always in your blood, but isn’t activated until you need to fight against vampires who are threats. So as many werewolves as you need will be given to you. Once it's been activated, you can't undo it. You can age if you stop shifting but as long as you shift, you're immortal. You heal fast, run fast, are super strong... And you do all of this without telling your friends or family."

"Some of us," Quil agreed.

Another sharp exhale. "So I get that Bella stumbled upon all of this, okay. Sure. She gets to know. But why does Emily get to know? Like did she stumble upon it too? Why didn't you just break up with her like everyone shut everyone else out? And why am I suddenly allowed to know about all of this? Something about Embry doing something? I... don't..."

Looks were exchanged by everyone except Embry, who avoided eyes and blushed profusely. Most of the guys were chuckling, but Sam held a reprimanding expression. "There's this thing called imprinting. It's not... love at first sight per say. You just feel a pull, like the person you imprint on becomes the sun in your universe. It doesn't necessarily have to be romantic but it usually goes there. Because I imprinted on Emily, she's allowed to know. That's the one exception to the rule. It hurts us to be away from our imprints and we'd rather get bitten by a blood sucker than let our imprints get hurt."

"Intense," I whispered.

Bella nodded. "They basically become really protective and caring and devoted. All the good stuff. It's kind of cute."

"But annoying," Jacob intervened. "If they reject you, which is unlikely but can happen, it's like... it starts to get so bad. You feel empty and it eats away at you and you can't even try to be with anyone else because only this person matters. Being rejected makes you want to die." My eyes widened.

Embry pipes up, "But you rarely get rejected." He seemed pale compared to a few moments ago, his pretty, dark skin becoming a little sickly. I frowned, concerned. "The way wolves become when they imprint... its hard not to want it and give into it. Anyone can, of course,” he rushed to add in a voice that was almost rounding on him attempting to reassure me. Though, why he would I didn’t know. “But why would you want to? It's like the universe telling you who you'd be happiest with."

My lips pursed. "What if you never imprint?"

Sam answered that one. "Then you take the risk and meet someone and have a life, knowing that there may be someone out there you might imprint on some day."

My heart felt heavy. "What's it like, to imprint?"

Sam's eyes moved to Embry, whose color came back to normal and then grew more red as he blushed worse. At Sam's silent encouragement, Embry began speaking, not meeting my eyes but smiling at his hands as they moved, drawing and coloring a scene for me to see. "Well, it's just... you see her, and that's it. Everything else becomes like background noise and you feel kinda weak and wobbly and you feel this need to be as close as possible. It seems like every little thing that could even sort of pose as a danger makes you jump because you never want to be apart from her and she's your everything and what if you leave her and she gets hurt while you're gone? What if you never see her again after that one time? It's like you've lived your whole life underground and then you move to, like, Florida or something. The sun is so bright and warm and the moon you once thought was so amazing can't hardly compare. Except everyone else is the moon and your imprint is the sun. Like Sam said earlier, actually.” He seemed to be struggling. The poor boy didn’t seem like one to be poetic, but he was trying. It was adorable.

Shyly smiling, I looked at Embry. Under my gaze he shifted. "You've imprinted?" He nodded. "That's sweet. She sounds wonderful."

His blushed worsened. "I think so. I don't know her well yet though."

Eyebrows knit together, I asked, "Why not?"

He shrugged. "I barely met her? So I still have to get to know her."

My smile brightened. "So it's a new imprint then!" He nodded again, looking to the others as if he was drowning and they were standing by and watching. I looked over and saw all of their eyes wide with disbelief. Bella snorted, immediately covering her face. "Wh..." My eyebrows knitted in defense and I turned to Embry again. I was confused, but not enough to press for any more information. I’d had enough tonight. "Well, good luck with it. I hope you win her over. You seem like a good kid, it would be sad if you didn't get to be happy too." Embry covered his face and I looked around again. "What?!"

"He imprinted on you," Paul blurted.

"Dude!" Embry hissed. Paul shrugged.

My mind was suddenly racing as all of the pieces finally fell together and I was able to see the whole puzzle.

What if you never get to see her again after this one time?

Except everyone else is the moon and your imprint is the sun.

Bella sighed. "And you freaked her out."

My eyes snapped to Embry, full of guilt and panic. "Um, can we talk?"

Embry groaned. "Can you just reject me now so we can move on?"

Pursuing my lips, I took tte hand of his closest to me between both of mine. "Embry, can we please talk? In private?"

His face suddenly grew serious. "Of course." I dropped his hand, my heart racing and my throat twisting with my stomach, but in different directions. I stood and he followed after me as I moved out the door to the outside. Not too long ago I’d been here with Bella in a completely different mind set. Why did I keep getting myself into situations that had me shifting so drastically just from minute to minute? It was too much.

Embry closed the door behind him and then we began walking, both of us aware that the others inside could still hear us. The further away I got from the house the clearer my mind became. We walked a while into the woods without talking until I stopped abruptly. He cut short and I turned to him, my face split with guilt. I didn't want to hurt him. But... but... oh couldn't He have imprinted on anyone else? "Y/n? Are you okay?"

I swallowed. "Embry, hear me out okay?" He nodded. "I... I like you. I do. Even in the short time- I mean you're physically pleasing." I flinched at my wording. "You have this really bright smile and these warm, gorgeous eyes and this really nice voice that kinda flows through me and it's really easy to talk you one on one, which is weird for me. I could see us being friends..." my voice wandered off. "Just, seeming how funny and sweet and dorky you are, I know we wouldn't... be good together. You deserve better, and you'll realize that- I promise."

Embry chuckled. "I don't think you understand. I'll respect if you just want to be friends, of course, but you're the only girl I want or ever will want. I won't be able to see anyone else like that. Sun and moon, remember?"

"When exposed to too much sun, everyone missed the nighttime." I said it without thinking, too fast to stop myself. The words were short. After Bella... how could I let someone close again?

After a second, he sighed and stepped closer, his palms pressing against the sides of my shoulders. "Y/n, I'm willing to wait for you. Or to just be friends, if that's what you need. I'm willing for whatever, I just want to be in your life. No expectations, I promise. But if you do like me and you're just holding back because you think I'm... out of your league, or whatever, I have plenty of time to prove you wrong. Don't sell yourself so short."

I snorted. "Fine, Embry Call. Here's the wager: you win when you convince me that you'll be able to find me as interesting as you do now, long term." Embry rolled his eyes. "And I win when you realize that you got screwed on this whole imprinting thing."

Raising an eyebrow, he crossed his arm over his chest. "And what will I get when I win?"

My gaze narrowed and I mocked his body language. "If you can convince me that you won't loose interest and jump boat, I'll be your girlfriend. I don't have anyone else like that in my life and if I found someone, I would definitely make them mine." I held up a finger as he moved closer. "We're only friends until then, though. Friends. Only."

He leaned closed, grinning mischievously. "Challenge accepted." I nodded and he planted a kiss on my cheek that caught me off guard before turning and running back to the house. "FIRST ONE BACK TO EMILY'S IS DOG CHOW!"

My face burning, I called curses after him. "You cheater you got a head start! And you're a friggin werewolf!" But I chased after him anyway. I saw him pull back at the last second and let me win. "Pussy," I accused. He gawked at me dramatically. "Letting a girl win just because you have a crush on her."

Embry laughed, opening the door for me. "Come on I don't want to miss dinner." I grinned as we went inside, the tone drastically different between the two of us from when we left. Picking up on our brilliant mood, everyone else got lively too. As we approached, Embry put his arm around my shoulder. Bella looked surprised but I rationalized it in my mind: friends do that all the time. Plus this was a temporary thing. A fling that'd last a day and then this whole escapade would blow over. It couldn't be as tense as all these Drama Queens were making it out to be. It sounded like a falling in love thing. Not necessarily romantic love, but still. That connection and care that was instant and deep? So soon? Nothing that spontaneous and sudden and strong could last long enough to matter.

In a few weeks, Embry would be completely over whatever little thing he'd found in me that dazzled him and I would be alone again. He couldn't possibly cross the chasm, or break the glass. There was no way he could get to me when anyone who ever tried just ended up hurting me. I wouldn't let him. Because as much as I wanted to, I knew where this was going.

So, sure. Have your fun now. It would be nothing but a sunny dream in far too short a while.

It had been three days since I met Embry and after a magical day full of people teasing us and asking if we were dating yet, it all came to a predictably silent ending. He hadn't talked to me since that day. Bella hadn't said anything about him or us, so I assumed that he simply never talked about me and she'd forgotten all about it. It was a day I could look back on as a sweet fantasy my mind had created, when the nights were especially cold and my mom was especially painful and I was especially done with life.

On the fourth day, today, I was in class on a regularly cloudy Forks Thursday afternoon. I was ahead on homework, the math class I was in being ridiculously easy because I'd taken online school over the summer to prepare me for this year as well as get me ahead so I wouldn't stress over it. It left me a lot of time to draw and very little free time to do nothing, which I appreciated. While the class had a work day, cramming out homework and asking for help and all the such, I sat in a window chair and let my mind wander as I looked outside, my pencil tapping against the empty page of my drawing notepad.

Suddenly a scene unfolded as I was sucked into more of a memory than a daydream.

The sun was starting to set but Bella was hesitant to leave, never having seen me so happy and connected and involved. All day Embry had hovered around me, cracking jokes and pulling me into conversations. Other people had never felt so close and I'd never felt so cared about. The others seemed as keen on getting to know me as Embry did.

As of now, Emily had played some music when someone declared they were bored. In honor of the new addition - since she was talking about me, I mentally added 'and temporary' behind 'new' - she had turned on some dance tunes and everyone took a break from vampires and werewolves and stress and regular life to just dance and be stupid and have fun. At one point, Embry had pulled me onto the dance floor and I'd stood, awkward and completely unsure what to do.

Just as Embry was about to give me step by step dance lessons on the dorkiest moves ever, Sam pulled a move and switched out the record to play a slow song. He pulled Emily close and everyone groaned, those with no one to dance with sitting down to tease the pairs swaying or calling it a night and going home. Jake jokingly pulled Bella in for a dance. As I went to sit to wait for her, Embry caught my elbow. "Dance with me?" He asked, grinning.

My heart began to race and by the grin on his fave widening, I knew he heard it. "Em, I can't dance." I felt my heart skip a beat as I processed the nickname and realized how attached I'd so quickly become to him.

His grin turned to an encouraging, soft smile as he tugged on my arm. "I'll lead. There's no time like the present to learn. It's an essential thing to know, really. Very important."

I sighed, giving in and letting him pull me further out. Someone whistled and I buried my face in Embry's chest, feeling as well as hearing him chuckle. His arms fell loosely, naturally around my waist in the same fashion my hands rested on the back of his neck. We talked in low voices as the song went on, me noticing Sam and Emily's lovey dovey expression exchange and Bella and Jacob's quiet giggles as they shared jokes. I could see how crazy about Bella Jacob was and I hurt for the boy immediately, knowing exactly how he felt. I was only her friend but I'd been second to Edward since the beginning and I could imagine exactly how it would feel to be in love with a girl who belonged whole heartedly to someone else. I briefly wondered their history before Embry pulled my attention back again. "What's on your mind?"

My eyes found his again as I recollected my thoughts. "Uh, Bella and I should probably be getting back."

His smile faded just a bit. "What if I took you home? You haven't experienced life until you've run with werewolves."

A chuckle slipped out of me. "You can't run with werewolves." I paused. "Cause, they're fast."

Embry leaned close, his lips ghosting the shell of my ear. "You can sit on my back while I run though." He leaned back again and though his words weren't suggestive or romantic and actually excited me more than anything, his proximity made me shiver. I found myself nodding, agreeing to the idea, and he pulled me closer to him. "Stay with me for the rest of the dance then." Sighing softly, I rested my head on his bare chest, my cheek pressed over his heart so the rhythm echoed where I could hear it. His heart beat picked up and I blushed.

"Yeah, okay."

When the song ended, everyone was gone but the three pairs. Bella and Jake were heading out when Embry told Bella he'd get me home safely. Once I confirmed I was fine with it, they conceded and Sam called a quick reminder to Jacob that he had patrol with Quil the next morning before everyone went their separate ways. Jake walked into the woods to strip and phase without destroying his clothes as Bella slipped into her car, Emily and Sam closing the door to their home after seeing us off. Embry turned to me, grinning. "Get back a bit." I jogged a foot or two backwards and he shifted away from me, only stepping out of his shoes as he didn't want me to see him completely exposed. Understandably. I felt bad for the loss of his shorts though. He nudged his shoes towards me and I grinned before picking them up and pausing. He nodded to me and I climbed on his back, my heartbeat beginning to race in excitement.

My first drawing in that class was Embry and me dancing. My eyes were closed and my cheek rested on his chest, his chin on the top of my head and a soft smile on both of our faces. It was new but natural to have a face to this secret love interest I'd never admit to yearning for. Even more so that the face was Embry's.

I didn't draw the background, instead focusing on the details of his hair and hands. The way he touched me, remembering how warm he felt. I felt my longing rise as I yearned for him, sighing at the thought of never seeing him again. Never being with him again like we were that night.

Next I began to draw us curled up together at the foot of my house. Once he'd brought me home he hadn't phased back, not having an immediate change of clothes with him to hide himself from me. He lay on the ground and I lay my head on his back, our bodies making a T shape as I rambled about everything my mind came across until he was breathing deeply and evenly and I realized he'd fallen asleep.

"Embry?" I shook him gently until his large brown eyes opened again. He was tired and I ran my hand down his face. "Go home. It's late and you're tired. We can talk again another time."

He nodded and rose, helping me up before he lumbered away towards the woods. Towards his own house. I thought of the wind rushing through my hair and stinging his face compared to the calm, enveloping warmth that I'd enjoyed while cuddling with him before he'd left. He paused, looking back at me, and I swore he smiled. Then he was gone and I was alone, the cold night air nipping at any exposed flesh. I sighed as I realized I'd forgotten my bike at Emily's.

The pencil in my hand found the curve of his body and the shape of mine laying on his before the bell rang and my limited time ran out. I smiled at my well done, detailed first drawing and my begun second before I closed my notebook and rose, sticking the pencil behind my ear as I made my way out of this class and to the next. The notebook I carried now was new, the one I'd used for doodles and faceless loves buried in the mess of my room somewhere. When my fantasies and daydreams had started to take definite shape I'd started a new notebook, wanting my personal drawings that I would want to hide to be separate from the mostly dorky superheroes or animals or sceneries I liked to show off when people asked about hobbies or I wanted to show off something I really loved.

To my surprise, my notebook was already almost full. Every page revealed another doodle of me and Embry, as a wolf or human. Mostly just daydreams and fantasies, but with details and features that couldn't be mistaken. It was official: I had a crush on Embry Call.

After school, I sighed as I began walking, my arms crossed over my notebook to keep my secret as hidden and close as possible. With my bike at Emily's and my car nonexistent, I'd taken to bundling up and preparing myself for a half an hour walk in the cold of fall.

I was stopped as I exited the building to see none other than the victim of my drawings standing at the bottom of my steps. My heart stopped and his head whipped around so his eyes could land on mine, a smile breaking out on his face. I moved to him with a grin on my own and a wide-eyed question on my face. "What are you doing here?"

He quirked an eyebrow. "Emily said you forgot your bike at her house." He motioned to the contraption propped against the steps, previously out of my sight. "So I brought it back."

A blush threatened to explode on my face and I was thankful for the cold to give reason to the redness. "You could have just dropped it off." I smirked.

Embry chuckled. "I thought, as long as I'm here and ditching my last class, I might as well walk you home too. We haven't talked in a few days...."

You haven’t forgotten me?

Feeling eyes on me, I looked out. My gaze locked with Edward Cullen's his face contorted with worry and an almost-anger, probably at my own deprecating thought as well as the thoughts Embry and I were having about each other.

Directly to him, I seethed, I once saw you as my older brother. Then, you had the right to be protective and keep me away from the wolves. But now? Now I'm staying away from you. His anger melted for sorrow and guilt and I looked away from him.

Directly to Embry, who looked concerned. I realized that my grin and light mood had melted away for a much darker, heavier air. "You okay?" He asked, tilting his head.

Nodding, I told him, "Let's go." Embry went stiff and he turned around to face Edward. I looked up to see Edward's lips moving and saw Embry's fists clench. I had no idea what the Cullen boy said, but I placed a hand on Embry's shoulder. The brunette looked at me again. "Let's go. Okay?" He pursed his lips, nodding as he offered a weak smile. I went to grab my bike but he moved faster than me, grabbing the handlebars and nodding me after him. I laughed. "Sit on the bike. I can stand on the back pedals and hold onto you." His face instantly brightened and he did as he was told. I did as I said I would, standing on the back foot notches.

He began biking and I threw my arms around his neck, my chest pressing to his back and my face burying in his neck as I muffled my surprised squeak. He chuckled and then slowed. "Hold on." I nodded, tightening my hold and ignoring the looks people were certainly giving the school's loner and the boy no one recognized as we took off toward my house. We stayed mostly quiet other than a few stray laughs when he would swerve the bike or go a little faster or we would hit an unexpected bump until he pulled to a stop at the front of my house. I hopped down, my hair wind blown and my face most likely reddened from the wind. He stood from the bike, looking at me. The look on his face was so fiercely adoring that my stomach twisted and my heart stopped beating altogether.

Even though I knew he could hear my sputtering heartbeat, I was surprised to see him simply smile to himself and offer me back my bike. "Keep this safe. That's a good one." I nodded, taking it from him and pulling it up next to my house, leaning it against the side before turning back to him.

"Embry?" He had turned to leave but now he turned back, more than ready to have me stall his going. It warmed my insides. "Thank you."

A huge grin light up his face and I felt my gaze soften. He was so good looking. "I know one really great way you could thank me." He smirked, tapping his cheek with his pointer.

Definitely not something friends did.

Raising an eyebrow, I clucked my tongue disapprovingly. "Friends, Call." He put on a puppy dog face, his lip hurting out his eyes going wide. The thing that had never worked on me before now had me stepping forward, stepping on my toes and he stopped down a bit so that I could press my lips briefly to his cheek. "Thank you, Embry."

He leaned back, his smile soft and his eyes finding mine instantly. I was lost in his heat and proximity and I didn't want to ever leave it again. I didn't want to have to deal with the cold. I wasn't sure how I dealt with it before I had him to fend it off before this moment and I didn't know how I'd beat it after. "You're welcome." Panic flared through me as the small urge to kiss him rose in the bottom of my stomach and he leaned back, as if sensing it. "I'll talk to you later." I silently nodded, watching as he waved before disappearing into the woods and out of sight.

FTL: @alexa-playafricabytoto @chipster-21 @bitchyseawitch

#embry call #kiowa gordon #wolf pack #twilight #new moon #imagine #imagines #x reader

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