#that second panel branch is so in love and i am so in love with the fact

[zivazivc]

I feel like I have some of the most random headcanons. but I am lowkey obsessed with the fact that John Dory is so much older than Branch that he potentially could have dated their friends'/peers' parents, and/or anything else funny and possibly entertaining that the large age difference entails lmaokskssbcdsbcjdh

edit: part two

[littleguyconnor]

I’ve started over on this painting like 4 times already and I want to take a a break. I am going to do a character study of Medic because he’s the one I feel people get the most wrong. (I’ll try and be as factual as possible but my own interpretation of him will be in there too, it’s inevitable, yadda yadda)

Let’s start with his hunting his old team with the classic mercs, since that’s when we’re first reunited with him.

It was not done out of betrayal.

I want to reference a piece of dialogue that I think showcases his entire mindset about it very well. When Classic Heavy asks if hunting down his old team will be a problem, Medic replies by saying “A chance to test my latest triumphs against my earliest experiments? No, that won’t be a problem at all.”

Look at the phrasing of that. There isn’t a single hint of malice or ill intent in it. His earliest experiments. His teammates that he’s spent years building up, improving, trying everything he knows and doesn’t to make them the best mercenaries he can. Against his latest triumphs. He wants to see how far he can take his practice, if all his work can hold up against something he knows is strong. It’s like how engineering students stand on their bridges to make sure it holds. Sure, it might break, but now they, Medic in this case, know what to improve on. Is it a very literal and playing-with-life kind of method? Yes. But that’s all it is. There isn’t any underlying reasoning, he thinks very literally and does things the same way. We also know this is true because he says it himself when Sniper confronts him about it, explaining that he was genuinely happy to see them and that his facial expression just came across differently to Sniper. Now, another thing I want to talk about on this topic is why he joined the Classic team in the first place. In the same panel I referred to last time there’s a very specific phrasing CHeavy uses that I want to highlight.

“I swear to god, if you put a single uterus in my men…”

Medic was never considered part of the team, and he knows this. He actually uses this to advantage. He’s an impermanent addition, and thus inconsequential. He’s using them as guinea pigs and that is what’s done out of malice. He’s being mistreated and obviously not considered anything of worth, so he’s going to retaliate in a very Medic fashion. This man is not a pushover, and of everything, I want to get that across the most.

Medic is extremely strong, both physically and mentally. He’s able to hold out for a considerable amount of time against CHeavy throwing him around. The thing that ends up killing him is a cheap shot from a gun. He’s also witty enough to outsmart Satan himself. (I don’t think there’s really anything else to say on that one.) This man is so intelligent and knows when people are using him from the second they start, and he plays along with it. He doesn’t even necessarily act dumb either. It’s just that he’s so eccentric and personable that people mistake him as someone easily to manipulate and end up getting ripped apart from the inside.

Branching off from this point: Medic is a genuinely kind person. He’s just weird. And I mean that in the most professional way possible. His intentions are good and done out of a passion for medicine, curiosity, and respect for his team. There’s a reason he spends so much time improving them. Part of it is just the morbid curiosity and the satisfaction that comes from fulfilling that, but it’s also because he wants his team to win. He wants them to be the best versions of themselves, literally. His odd and eccentric demeanor just makes his actions come out a little morbid and frightening. But he loves people. And he cares. Above all, remember, he’s a doctor. And it’s a doctor’s job to help people.

Now onto his relationship with Heavy. What I’m going to be talking about with this leans a little more on the head canon side, but I don’t think it’s too far off from what could actually be canon.

Whether they’re friends, lovers or something else isn’t relevant. Regardless of what they are, they have an incredibly strong bond built on solid foundations. Respect is the main one.

Medic’s teammates seem to have a strange disregard for him. It’s the same treatment they give Pyro, although there’s less infantilization and more flippant-ness. I don’t think it’s done out of meanness, more just so that he’s outwardly really freakish and open about experimenting on them with dubious ethics. They care about him, he’s a vital part of the team, it’s just.. less enthusiastic. But with Heavy, that dynamic changes completely. Heavy respects him so much, and likes him genuinely enough to see past the thing everyone else gets hung up on. And it’s because Medic is the only one he’s met that is capable of outsmarting bullets. Heavy respects Medics genuine intelligence and skill, and because Heavy is extremely smart too, they get along really well. And Medic cares so much for Heavy. I think that as a child, he grew up very estranged and “othered” for his interests and awkward social skills. There haven’t been many people in his life who are willing to get close to him, or really, let him get close to them. And there’s a kind of refuge he takes in Heavy for that. A mutual understanding and care for each other.

And yes, Medic is an awkward person! Just not in the sense that people typically are, and I think that is such an important part of his character. He isn’t good at expressing empathy in a socially acceptable way as I’ve discussed previously, is overly literal, blunt, and genuinely a little oblivious sometimes to the tone of the conversation or of his own words. And instead of trying to resolve that, he’s just stopped caring about it all together because he knows he can be himself. It’s why his job with the Classic Mercs failed. They wanted him to be something he’s not, and Medic wasn’t going to tolerate that kind of treatment!

[thelemonsnek]

The two legendary dragons, despite how long they've been alive and how much they've been through, have never been apart in any meaningful way. Zekrom!Ingo is not having a good time (neither is Reshiram!Emmet, but that's neither here nor there :) ) More on this under the cut!

[image id: a two page comic featuring Ingo and Melli from Pokemon Legends Arceus. The entire comic is a sketch, with guidelines still visible, and is done in black and white, aside from cyan lightning. The entire comic is set on a mountaintop cliffside, in the middle of a huge thunderstorm. Everything is very dark, and rain is visible throughout.

Ingo stands at the edge of a cliff, facing away from the viewer and looking into an intense storm. Lightning strikes off in the distance, and harsh winds are ripping at his clothes. The second panel is a closeup profile view of his face. He is leaning into the wind, eyes shut, seeming to be either looking for something within himself or trying to lose himself in the storm. The third panel is a closeup of Melli's face, shadowed.

Melli comes up behind Ingo, and asks him, "Why are you chasing storms, Ingo?" Then, gaining momentum, he seems to yell louder above the storm, "you have a life, so live it. the time before now is long gone." Ingo, still facing away from Melli and staring out at the storm, says nothing for a beat, then without turning around, asks, "Do you think that I do not know that, Warden Melli?"

The next panel looks out over the stormswept mountain. Multiple lightning strikes are visible as Ingo says, "I am well aware that my tracks are without destination. But I cannot switch over to new tracks, lest I risk derailment."

The next panel switches back to showing Ingo and Melli. Ingo has turned around now to face Melli. He has placed a hand to his chest, teeth bared as he shouts, "I know that this could be my home station, if I let it." His eyes now have lightning branching off from them, and his teeth are sharper. Black scales are visible, creeping up his hand. Melli is braced against both the storm and Ingo's sudden anger.

In the final panel, Ingo has somewhat collapsed in on himself, and half turns away. His hands are now twisted into claws, with more obvious scaling, and his teeth are sharper. "But I cannot," he says quietly, visibly defeated. Melli seems less ready for a fight now, and has drawn back, possibly out of sympathy or fear (and maybe both). End id]

Ingo and Emmet are Zekrom and Reshiram!

the gods are real and they're autistic about trains

they can "shift" in and out of their draconic forms, and have several stages in between (human, partial, mid, etc) basically it's a sliding scale of traits! Here we can see Ingo's "partial" state, where he has fangs, claws, and scales but not much else

the two of them have never really been apart. Oh sure they've been on differing sides of the continent, and sometimes one of them will work a differing shift than the other, but not in any meaningful way

not til Ingo gets eebied :)

separated for the first time with no way to reunite, they find themselves completely unable to shift fully, only barely able to get to a partial form. For Ingo this is pretty convenient! Not as much to try and hide/explain away :) for Emmet this is terrifying

there's another side effect to them being apart, and it's that their roles...don't switch, but Emmet finds himself endlessly driven by the ideal to find his brother, while Ingo is constantly seeking the truth of who he was and what he left behind. We get to see a little bit of the conflict this causes within Ingo here!

they do eventually reunite and it's cool as hell, I'd love to draw it out someday

[coochiequeens]

Deranged man in a dress disrupts a conference about human trafficking and forced prostitution demanding his right to buy sex is respected.

A conference on tackling human trafficking and migrant smuggling was interrupted when a transgender politician became enraged at a speaker suggesting that the sex trade should be abolished, calling it “hate speech.”

The second day of the 7th Congreso Latinoamericano y Caribeño sobre Trata de Personas y Tráfico de Migrantes (Latinamerican and Carribean Congress on Human Trafficking and Migrant Smuggling) was held in Mexico City on Wednesday, The annual Congress features speakers and politicians from Mexico’s Chamber of Deputies gathering to discuss ways in which to eradicate human trafficking. Wednesday’s panel featured a lecture by Spanish Sociologist Dr. Rosa María Cobo, a professor at the University of La Coruña.

Dr. Cobo gave a radical feminist perspective on human trafficking, and called for the abolition of the sex trade which she noted relied upon the exploitation of women and girls with few economic and social resources. 

“Prostitution is not right, from an ethical and political point of view,” Dr. Cobo said, “It is not acceptable for a woman to become an [object] and it is not acceptable for a man to objectify and [commit] violence against women who have very few resources and who are vulnerable.”

At the end of her talk, Dr. Cobo was presented with a gift from Cecilia Márquez Alkadef, a member of Mexcio’s Chamber of Deputies, which is one of the key organizers of the annual Congress. 

Just as Dr. Cobo was posing for photographs, a male voice could be heard furiously screaming through the auditorium. 

On the event’s official livestream, the camera panned out to show an individual getting increasingly aggressive, yelling towards the stage before standing to yell out into the audience. The event’s host attempts to calm the individual down and request they respect the perspective that was presented by Dr. Cobo, but the man only became more enraged. 

“This is hate speech! This is criminalizing my comrades! This is hate speech paid for with Government funds!” 

The man was quickly identified as Maria Clemente, a trans-identified politician who was elected last year and became the first transgender person to enter Mexico’s Chamber of Deputies. 

A member of the audience began to speak out against Clemente, yelling back in a sarcastic fashion, “Women were born to be whores?” To which Clemente responds, “Well I am a woman, and I am a whore!  It’s my job and and how my family eats! I love it!”

In another angle of the same altercation, Clemente can be heard chanting: “Sex work is work! Sex work is work!” Clemente also lashes out against one of the Congress officials attempting to calm him down when he is called ‘Sir,’ and begins to aggressively approach the podium yelling: “Maria! Maria! My name is Maria!”

Following Clemente’s outbursts, the Congress went to a recess. According to La Razon de Mexico, Clemente left and several other attendees withdrew. The Congress is holding its final meeting today.

A few clips of Clemente’s outburst taken by an audience member began circulating on social media on Thursday, with many Mexican feminists expressing outrage at his furious defense of prostitution, and derailing of a conference on human trafficking.

“I am not a psychologist but these people urgently need mental help. They’re not [okay], really. We see the same scenes. Hate, rage, violence, aggressiveness and a huge pathological ego. They kick like small children in adult bodies. It is not normal.” One commenter wrote in Spanish beneath one of the videos of the incident posted by Women’s Declaration International’s Mexico branch.

“How strange that [a trans-identified male] always has to be the center of attention in feminist spaces and even more so in a room full of female victims. And they have the nerve to say that they are disrespecting him, what was he doing in a congress on trafficking in the first place?” Another asked.

Many offered praise for Sonia Sanchez, the abolitionist who had engaged Clemente from the audience and defended women’s right to be free from sexual exploitation.

Sex-based violence against women in Mexico is considered to be among the highest in the world, with the country’s femicide rate continuing to rise even as the general homicide rate falls. 85% of human trafficking victims in the country are female, with women and girls overrepresented in every form of the crime, including organ trafficking, forced prostitution, and labor exploitation.

The lack of justice for female victims of sex-based violence have led to widespread unrest in Mexico, especially amongst the organized feminist activist community who have staged regular protests this year. In March, thousands of women marched the streets of Mexico City demanding greater protection from law enforcement and the Government.

UPDATE July 8/22: A spokeswoman associated withWDI Mexico responded to Reduxx‘s request for comment, and, in a Spanish-language statement, called Clemente’s behavior “an embarrassment.”

“Although this behavior leaves much to be desired, for [feminists] it is an opportunity to show the world the truth about transgenderism,” representative Laura Lecuona says, “These are not simply a few men on the margins of society fighting for their right to housing and work.”

Lecuona says this is not the first time Clemente has been recorded as having an explosive emotional outburst. In December of 2021, Clemente allegedly attacked Congressional cafeteria staff after they used the wrong pronouns for him. 

“[Clemente] was the reason Deputy Gabriel Quadri was reprimanded by the National Electoral Institute for alleged expressions of ‘discrimination and transphobia,'” Lecuona explained, noting that the precedent of Quadri’s penalization had feminists worried as it acted as a warning against expressing any critical sentiment.

“Not all gender identity activists make such a fuss. Others are more subtle in their ways, but most of those who are influencers and have a certain platform, whether in traditional media or on social networks, are hostile to radical feminists and to anyone who does not agree with them.”

Women’s Declaration International is a statement which affirms the rights of women and girls based on sex, and denounces the impact gender ideology has had on women’s rights. It currently has over 32,000 signatories from 159 countries.

[natehackett]

joe keery he/him/cis man “ watch out , NATHAN 'NATE' HACKETT has crash-landed into roswell !! they look thirty years old and celebrate their birthday on march fifteenth. they are from reno, nevada, reside in the GREYSTONE COMPLEX and are currently working as an attendant at the lunar laundromat. one thing you should know about them is back in reno, his parents’ garage has his collection of comics and fan memorabilia – combined, they’re worth over $500,000. ” ( guppy, mst, she/her, 21 )

PINTEREST // SPOTIFY HEY, EVERYONE ! my name is guppy (or leila, but you can call me either) and i am twenty-one. i am about to study abroad in australia, but for the current time being i am in mst (mountain standard timezone). i will be playing nate hackett, who is a lover of all things comic books and punk/grunge music. keep reading for a bit more about him and his past!

–* THE PAST / PRESENT

nate is the second youngest of five children (two older brothers – brian & james, one older sister – heather, and a younger sister – beth) and was born/raised in reno, nevada. his dad has retired but owned his own appliance repair business. nate's mother was an emergency room nurse, but she has also retired. his parents now both live in a retirement community in north carolina so they can visit the beaches in the summer season. his eldest sibling inherited the hackett home back in reno, where nate's comic and fan memorabilia collection is stored.

since there were five kids in the hackett house, it was always kind of a whirlwind. there were always birthdays happening, friends tromping through the house, holidays with extended family, and fights over room/toy/clothes sharing. the one thing that nate had to himself was his love of all things geeky.

none of his other siblings shared his interest in various comic books, card/tabletop games, and movies. he was free to explore those interests all on his own.

every week, nate would use his lunch money to buy new issues of comics being serialized. he would draw, at first, by tracing the panels in comics that he found the most intriguing. he branched off to drawing his own heroes and villains, writing storylines for them, and stapling together stacks of printer paper he had turning them into "comics."

the same store where he bought his comics in reno also held various tabletop gaming nights where nate met many friends who shared his interests.

nate got his first job as a sophomore in high school at the comic shop, it was where he spent most of his time anyways so he might as well get paid to be there.

when it came time to decide on after high school plans, nate's dad was urging him to take on the family trade of appliance repair. already, nate's two eldest siblings were working on the family business. one had gone to technical school to become an electrician and the other had done training in general appliance repair while apprenticing with nate's dad.

his third eldest sibling had disappointed nate's mom and dad by leaving nevada and going out of state to study communications. they wanted to be a journalist, not work for the family's appliance repair business.

nate was about to disappoint them just as much, he applied not only for technical schools but out-of-state colleges as well. the university of new mexico gave him a hefty scholarship, and the opportunity to study visual art, but to appease his parents he chose instead to go to central new mexico community college to study heating, ventilating, air conditioning, and refrigeration (HVACR).

he loved new mexico so much, though, that he made the decision not to return home after completing his associates. his parents were upset at his decision, but were still proud of the fact that he had chosen to pursue the family's trade with appliance repair. he made the move to roswell after living in albuquerque from the time he was 18 to the time he was 24. while in albuquerque he was working as an appliance repairman but he honestly hated having to constantly zip around from house to house everyday just to do his job. he made the decision that he wanted to work somewhere stable.

when he saw the lunar laundromat in roswell was hiring, he thought it was the perfect fit. he had the skills to fix the washers and dryers when they went down, but he was also could sit at the counter and read comic books during the downtime he had. he could also work on drawing his own comic.

currently his paycheck goes to four things: rent/bills, groceries, comics, and art supplies.

he still does some freelance repair work for extra cash on the side. but, you'll mainly find him at either the lunar landromat, forbidden planet, or at home.

personality wise: nate is real geeky, he appreciates a good pun and rarely takes anything seriously. he will gladly ramble on and on about anything and everything that is related to his favorite subjects (art, comics, magic: the gathering, pokemon cards, the star wars franchise, the warner bros monsterverse, and other weird old movies)

his favorite color is a red-orange, he frequently wears his red-orange windbreaker and a las vegas 51s baseball cap. he prefers dc to marvel, especially because his favorite series is swamp thing. he is most proud of the fact he owns swamp thing #1 with a 9.6 certified guaranty company (cgc) rating. this means it is in near mint condition and alone is worth approx. $1k. he also has a personalized autograph from len wein (the original writer of the series).

he frequently drives to comic cons in the western states (primarily CO, NM, AZ, NV, and CA). for his 18th birthday, his parents bought him VIP passes for san diego comic con which was like his dream come true.

–* POSSIBLE CONNECTIONS

since i know it can be difficult to find some connections off the bat here are some possible suggestions to get ideas flowing. i am also a fan of just starting threads and seeing where muse's chemistry goes.

D&D PARTY MEMBERS / we already know what a huge nerd nate is, but if your muse is also a nerd i am sure nate would love some party members for a d&d group in roswell. rather than an actual dining table, nate's apartment has a board game table. he just eats on his couch instead and uses the board game table for get togethers with the party. this doesn't have to be exclusive to D&D, but could extend to MTG and/or pokemon

FREQUENT FREELANCE CLIENT / is your muse prone to accidents? constantly blaming mercury in retrograde for their fridge breaking or their AC unit leaking? nate is happy to help, for a small price or a gift card to the forbidden planet so he can buy the latest issue of that one comic he's reading.

LAUNDROMAT PALS / since it takes at least forty-five minutes to get a small load of laundry washed and dried, nate is happy to entertain and talk to customers as they wait for their clothes to finish up. if you're real nice to him, he may even give you a detergent pod for free so you don't have to risk a couple of quarters at the janky dispenser.

EMERGENCY CONTACT / since nate's family is all out of state, it could be useful to have a ride-or-die who he can call at any time for anything. he definitely has broken a couple of fingers or slipped while jamming out too hard to the chats while in the shower. who you gonna call? nate's emergency contact!

[sky-squido]

LEGEND AND SKY ARE CANON BESTIES I HAVE PROOF

Widely accepted fanon holds that Legend and Hyrule are one of the closest pairs in the chain. However, upon careful analysis of the original source material, the duo seems to have no knowledge of the temporal connection that is used to justify their fanon connection. In fact, the one Legend appears to be closest to out of everyone in the chain is Sky. In this essay I will—

actually you know what? we’re doing this.

What surprised me most about the Legend-Sky connection is that it’s been present really strongly since the very beginning! Seriously how on earth did I miss this until now?? In one of the very first comic-style, more refined LU posts, scars, the pair sit side by side and have a whole panel together!

So at the very least they're cool with each other/start out on good terms! There are pairs that clearly don’t get on quite as well (Sky-Time and Wind-Wild) so we at least have confirmation that they aren’t one of them!

Or do we? In one of the next comics after this, Legend can be seen roasting Sky! Twilight steps in and tries to tell Sky to stand up for himself but Sky actually defends Legend, calling Legend’s behavior harmless and being completely undeterred by it! This is a good sign for a number of reasons: for one, Jojo makes a clear parallel between Legend and Groose. Groose is Sky’s best friend by the end of Skyward Sword, so that sets a precedent for Sky killing people with kindness and making unlikely friends.

Another important thing to note is that Legend is self-aware about his grumpy attitude, teasing Time for his pessimism and saying “you’re as bad as I am” (Deep Shadows part 2). You could headcanon any sort of characterization justification for this kind of behavior, but whatever you decide to call it, between Twilight’s reaction to him roasting Sky and Wild’s “I know you love to tease,” it’s safe to say that his reputation isn’t that of a nice guy (Mipha’s Journal). This is, expectedly, going to act as a deterrent to people wanting to get really close to him! So as the group is coming together and friendships are forming, Legend’s subtly pushing people away.

Except for Sky. Sky does not care if Legend is trying to push anyone away. He has set his friendship sights on Legend and there is no escaping now. From this interaction, he earns Legend’s trust, in some little way, because Sky’s proven that he’s willing to look past Legend’s grumpiness and see him as a person and treat him with compassion no matter how bad of a mood he’s in.

How does Sky extend this olive branch to Legend after the roasting? Y’all remember that comic from way at the beginning where he spars with Twilight? Sky can’t use the Master Sword here so who does he hand it to? LEGEND.

Unfortunately, we don’t actually see the act of him handing it over. But still, this makes Legend the first person Sky’s ever canonically handed the Master Sword to, in LU or Skyward Sword. (second being Wild when he breaks it on a rock (and would you look at that, Legend is right there when it happens, keeping an eye on the Master Sword for Sky and likewise flipping out when it breaks) and third being Hyrule in this comic).

Now, Legend and Sky are pals. They’re just pals and we love to see it. When they’re playing catch with Wild’s vai outfit, who does Legend throw it to? SKY.

From here, it seems like they’re just always standing next to each other. Sky has proven he’s committed to being Legend’s friend and that makes Legend feel safe around him. So he hovers around Sky. Sky notices this, too, and hovers back <3 (there’s more panels of the pair hanging out than this; this collage is just to showcase every separate instance in which they hang out. They hover around each other a lot, you guys)

Now we’re breaking out the big guns: Divine. Dark. Reflections.

Yes, friends, you read that right. Sky is the only one Legend feels he can trust. That’s canon. You heard it here first: LEGEND AND SKY ARE BESTIES OKAY.

Here, Legend is panicked and vulnerable and scared and awkwardly introduces himself to Sky, who just scoops him up without a moment's thought and Legend's like AAAAAAAAAAH PUT ME DOWN but Sky has never once in his life been intimidated by Legend and is just like BRO ARE YOU OKAY. He doesn’t even laugh at first despite how objectively funny it is. He just wants to make sure his bro is alright (and once he is, Sky absolutely starts teasing him again).

I feel this speaks for itself. Yes, Twilight gets more thanks because he objectively Did More Things with the express goal of helping Legend, but he’s touched and flattered and grateful to both of them. We stan.

(Also, Sky teases Legend, saying “nice hair,” a reference to a dialogue option he has with Groose in Skyward Sword, drawing more parallels between Legend and Sky’s best friend back home.)

But oh no, it’s time to face the music, and Legend’s lingering behind as they near camp so Sky shoots this worried little glance backwards, just to make sure he’s alright <3

One other thing I also picked up on during this Sky-Legend reading was that in this update, they're both being teased. Sky's being roasted for falling behind, which is no doubt prodding at a soft spot, despite the fact that legend's hair is more noticeable and he gets more flack for it. Sky does really appear to be unfazed by the teasing he gets, though, mostly having this good-natured exasperation on his face. I'm not sure if it's really because he's unbothered by it—Jojo has stated that nothing can get under Sky’s skin—or if he's just putting it off/ignoring it while he's with everyone else, but look, my point is that both of them are being teased at the same time. LET THEM BOND YOUR HONOR.

And bros are back at it again, side-by-side in the likelike update and also during—ooh we’re getting spicy now—Legend’s loredrop speech.

Yes, Sky’s entering existential crisis mode a little—i cannot wait for the Ganon curse reveal you guys okay okay i cannot wait i cannot i cannot wait—

Legend gave sky a bunch of pieces to the ganon puzzle back in memories and now he’s doing it again, here, but he seems completely oblivious to sky's very visible distress, continuing the conversation. Is this positive spin he's putting on it an attempt to cheer Sky up, or is he just having a fun time and oblivious to Sky's distress? It's too early to tell, I think.

Then they get separated in the fight in Sunset and Sky's adamant about wanting to get back to the others, which I don't really think should be read into too deeply, but it's a nice touch. And now everyone's splitting back up again. Legend's made his priority of cleaning out all the rest of these monsters very clear and Sky's right there by his side Poised to go with him and this is the last time we saw them so it looks like we're getting some Sky and Legend content soon! Is Sky going to confide in Legend about his hypothesis about the curse? Given how abruptly Jojo dropped the Colors on us last update, I'd say anything goes and this has clearly been in the works for some time.

And now we’re caught up to where LU is currently! How exciting!

Now, to synthesize the results of all this data:

Sky's made Legend feel comfortable around him. They stick together and Legend clearly thinks of Sky fondly as well. Considering the others who Sky hovers around most in canon are Hyrule and Wind, it really does seem like Legend is the one he's closest to, as well. It probably would be Twilight if he weren't too caught up in Time and Wild to hang out with everyone else much. Time and Wars are on Leadership Duty so it really seems like Sky takes it upon himself to look after the younger ones. In the post that partially inspired this entire dissertation of mine, it's stated that Legend hovers towards the back to look after everyone.

This then also goes on to give Legend and Sky a similar place in the group dynamic. Time and Warriors are Leading and Strategizing while Twilight's taking a more protector role, on the lookout to destroy any external threats he can as quickly as possible, with a focus on looking after Time and Wild. They're a bit of a self-contained system other than Wild being pals with Hyrule and everyone looking after Wind here and there. That leaves Sky and Legend—who were both originally described as those who could be leaders but choose not to be—taking up the slack of filling in whatever gaps they think need filling. When the leader-types get separated from everyone else partway through Sunset, Legend steps up, making sure Hyrule stays out of danger and yells at Wild for rushing headlong into it. Usually, though, they hang around Hyrule, Wind, and Four, making sure no part of the group falls behind.

I mean, I really don’t think I’m making a stretch here. Legend-Sky-Hyrule-Wind is like a verified squad, Four hanging out with them a lot, too. Out of this band of five, Legend and Sky are the most leader-esque, so whilst Time, Twi, Wars, and Wild are out there having family drama or leading the team, Sky and Legend look after this bunch.

Another thing to note is that everyone knows time, Twi, and Wild have something going on. They're not subtle about how much time they spend together in secret. Legend points it out in the Malon Arc and Time shamelessly herds everyone away from Twi and Wild in Memories without question. This is extrapolation on my part, but that clear, close, exclusive relationship might make the others feel like, for lack of a better term, leftovers. Sky and Legend seem to get pretty close pretty fast but they also make a point to hang out with the others consistently, too, and never really make a big deal over how close they are. With a whole bunch of new people thrown together like this, it's only natural for people to get nervous once the first cliques start to form and Sky and Legend are doing a really great job of making sure those who aren't Leader Types™ (or Wild) still feel included.

Extrapolation aside, though, my point is that Sky and Legend are already pretty compatible as friends (Sky has shown he can be great friend with someone who’s a bit rough around the edges and Legend clearly needs someone to be nice to him so badly), have earned each others’ trust, and spend SO MUCH TIME together. They also seem to serve similar roles in the group at large, giving them that much more in common. They’re besties, your honor. Please treat them as such.

Thank you for coming to my TED talk.

also if anyone’s wondering how i was able to find and link so many LU tumblr posts, this blog is a lifesaver

[ootahime]

analyzing every gojohime moment in the manga 😈

this series will probably have more than one part because tumblr only lets me upload ten images per post </3

warning: there are disgustingly long paragraphs in here and delusions

chapter 32

utahime’s first introduction!  akutami lets us know right off the bat that she thinks gojo is an idiot (so true).

chapter 32

i love the contrast between miwa and utahime’s reaction to gojo’s appearance.  

chapter 33

NAH BC TELL ME WHY HE WENT OUT OF HIS WAY TO NOT GET HER ONE LMAOOOO!!  when he traveled overseas to meet with yuta, he picked up the tribal protection charms and thought to himself, “let’s get enough for the kyoto students as a gift since i am such a great and caring teacher, after all.  mmm, i should skip utahime to make her mad~”  this guy puts way too much effort into getting on her nerves.  his mind = utahime brainrot

chapter 33

she’s laughing at him here because he’s getting disciplined for being a lil shit.  i wonder...what would he say if he saw her laughing at him like that?  

chapter 33

this interaction between them is a little strange don’t you think?   i feel like over the years he’s learned how to pick up her mood based on the way she’s acting towards him.  you’re probably thinking, “well any person can figure out how a person’s feeling based on the way they’re talking or acting.”  yes, that’s absolutely true, but it’s kind of different with this.  she’s acting normal.  utahime has a rather indifferent expression on her face and what she says is spoken in a calm tone, but gojo still asks her if she’s mad at him.  it’s likely that he knows her well enough to be able to notice these subtle things.  even if she wasn’t actually mad at him, he was being considerate for a split second, then he went and said, “of course.  i didn’t do anything wrong and all.”  what a guy LOLOL.  to me, this implies that maybe he made her genuinely angry in the past to the point where he realized that he went too far, and thus decided to be more careful of her feelings.  she has definitely gotten annoyed at him so many times after that so whenever she seems angry, he probably asks himself if he took it too far.  i’m curious to see if he can pick up if she’s upset with something that’s not involving him.  would he console her?  how does gojo satoru console someone?  

despite him always annoying her, she’s still courteous and brings him a cup of tea during their talk.  she didn’t have to go out of her way to get tea for him but she did.  that’s the kind of person utahime is.  a kind and caring woman who would never put her students in danger.  in the anime they were sitting far away and not facing each other like they’re doing in the manga.  she also has her own tea cup.  i think that little panel of her placing the cup down on the table and him picking it up to take a sip is a nice little detail.  it just proves that her hating him most of the time isn’t actually pure hatred but annoyance because of his shenanigans and teasing.

chapter 33

i touched upon this a little bit in my previous post, but i wish to go more in depth about this panel.  first of all, he ends the sentence with her name twice.  two times too many, mr. gojo.  i like how they can be serious with each other too LOL.  i wish we got to see them talk about the traitors because they did figure it out together after all.  does it always end in bickering?  can they interact with each other like adults all the way through?  somehow, i feel like that’s not possible when it comes to these two.  furthermore, notice how gojo confides in utahime about his suspicions.  from what we know, she is the first person he brought it up to.  i mean, i guess he has to start investigating the schools and would need extra assistance to save time, but he could have done it himself if he really wanted to.  by deciding to ask for her help we know that he thinks she’s trustworthy, smart, and strong enough to face whatever considerable risks this task may entail.  

i didn’t point this out in my other posts but see how he makes a hand sign in the last panel when she throws the cup at him?  gojo is manually activating his infinity.  why though?  about a year after the whole star plasma vessel incident happened, gojo develops the ability to keep his infinity up at all times by using the reversed curse technique to consistently heal himself to prevent exhaustion.  this means that it really makes no difference whether he leaves it on or off.  there are a few times where we can witness someone actually touching gojo.  for example, yuuji giving him a hug.  did he turn his infinity off, or was it able to deduce that yuuji was not a threat?  the erasers and pencils shoko and geto threw at him during his demonstration of his new ability aren’t dangerous normally, but is it the speed that makes them dangerous?  even if it did hit him, it wouldn’t hurt.  how does the infinity know when to allow an incoming object to touch gojo?  i believe it is up to gojo himself to let things touch him; his infinity restricts anything and anyone.  some people say it could just be the fact that water is not dangerous to him, so therefore, he has to manually put his infinity up.  i thought this was a reasonable explanation as to why he put up the hand sign when the tea was thrown at him, but then i realized that it couldn’t be.  remember the second opening?  it’s raining and everyone is carrying an umbrella, then it pans to gojo with a bouquet in his hand and rain drops slipping off his infinity.  if he DID manually put his infinity up to prevent getting soaked then that implies that he chose to turn his infinity off.  you can argue and say that jujutsu high is a safe place with students so there’s no need to have his infinity there, but do you remember when he stepped on the ants in front of gakuganji and yaga?  the ants were perfectly fine after which insinuates that his infinity prevented his shoes from crushing the ants.  he most likely had his infinity on during the baseball game even though he was in a safe environment.  how does this long tangent relate back to utahime?  well, it simply indicates that gojo trusts utahime so much to the point where he can be vulnerable around her.  turning off his infinity symbolizes completely letting down his guard  in a way.  

how about what happens next?  utahime throws the tea at him, he turns on his infinity to deflect it, and he responds with, “scary!  hysteric women aren’t popular, you know!”  why would he even say that LMAO??  utahime doesn’t even try to deny what he said either.  she just hits him with the good old, “i am your senpai!”  could it be that he’s trying to poke fun of her relationship status?  maybe, maybe not.  doesn’t he like people a lil crazy?  he did say that all jujutsu sorcerers have to be a little crazy because they’re willing to put themselves in danger constantly.  

chapter 0 p.1

i wonder who he’s thinking of when he said that.  could it be utahime?  it seems like he’s reminiscing or thinking about someone.  he wears an amused expression on his face as he laughs - almost like he’s seen his fair share of how scary women can get :>>

chapter 34

the pattern behind gojo and utahime is called yagasuri “fletching,” a traditional japanese design.  this design is inspired by arrow fletching.  it's a lucky charm for weddings and other celebrations since it's based on the Japanese belief that an arrow shot once never comes back.  brides were given kimonos with this pattern for good luck during the edo era (1603–1868) to ensure they would not have to return to their original family home.  this pattern can have numerous meanings such as steadfastness or determination to achieve a goal, or a wish for the happiness of the bride.  there is a belief that a bow and arrow represent the fight against evil.  honestly, this meaning fits the narrative of the story.  utahime and gojo are unearthing the traitors that are feeding intel to the curse users and cursed spirits.  they are in the middle while the kyoto students surround them, which could mean that it’s their job as adults to protect these children from the grasps of evil slowly making itself more prominent.  do you also notice that the arrows are pointed toward utahime from gojo?  from all the images i’ve seen, the arrows are usually pointed downward.  what could this mean?  is gojo trying to protect her (in the future (?)) or does he have a big fat crush smh...

i think it’s a good time to mention utahime’s clothing.  she’s wearing miko attire.  miko are shrine maidens who were once thought to be shamans (you connecting the dots?).  in their service to shrines, miko used to perform spirit possession and takusen (in which the possessed person acts as a "medium" (yorimashi) to communicate the divine will or message of that kami (god) or spirit; also included in the category of takusen is "dream revelation" (mukoku), in which a kami appears in a dream to communicate its will).  this was back in the old days, of course.  to become a miko back then (shaman), one needed to have potential.  neurosis, hallucinations, odd behavior, and hysteria (HYSTERIA HELLO???) are some of the signs that a person is being called to shamanism.  when a miko is communicating with a kami (god) or spirit by acting as a medium, she is in a trance-like state, and so she must learn techniques to control herself when this happens.  chanting and dancing were used to accomplish this, so the girl was taught melodies and intonations that were used in songs, prayers, and magical formulas.  all of this could give us insight about utahime’s technique and explains why she’s good at singing :)  maybe she can’t control herself when she uses her technique which is why she isn’t shown using it because it should be used for dire situations.  i imagine being possessed by a spirit or god must consume a lot of cursed energy.  it makes sense that utahime and gakuganji wear traditional clothing.  they’re the staff of jujutsu high’s kyoto branch.  in chapter 0, kyoto is known as the sacred land of jujutsu.  it’s more traditional compared to tokyo.  if you want to learn more about miko, you should check out the wikipedia page!  

chapter 34

i swear he tries to annoy her every chance he gets.  i bet he sets a goal for himself to see how many times utahime lectures him about respecting his seniors every time he’s within the same vicinity as her.  at least he called her utahime-sensei!!!

chapter 40

this isn’t even a gojohime moment tbh...i just wanted to share a pic of them sitting next to each other HEHE.  why are they sitting next to each other anyway?  it’s not like they have assigned seating.

----

that was so long and i apologize for the gargantuan paragraphs you guys had to read through.  i’m writing this at 4 in the morning and i’m feeling borderline delirious so i apologize if there are any errors.  i’ll edit this when i have time <3

the next part should come shortly.

[roscgcld]

RYOMEN SUKUNA || we will meet again

anime: jujutsu kaisen

characters: ryomen sukuna

pronouns: she/her

proof read: N/A

"Promise me...that one day, we will meet again."

Back in the day, when Jujutsu Sorcerers were at their prime, lived a Cursed Spirit who goes by the name Sukuna. Once a human Sorcerer himself, he had somehow managed to create himself into the Jujutsu world's most feared Cursed Spirit. He was dubbed 'the King of Curses' and rained terror over the human and jujutsu world; with super natural powers and a sadistic personality to match the title. Everyone who has crossed him shook in absolute fear.

That was, of course, before he met a particular princess.

She was a beautiful woman; the daughter of one of the then king’s favourite concubines. Born with the alluring beauty of her mother, and a heart of gold, it was hard to ignore her presence when she walked into a room. 

She was brought up in the palace, where she was given the title as princess; but she will never sit on the throne of the kingdom her father rules over. As only the King’s wife is allowed to bear the heir that will sit on the throne. She didn’t mind, she had never desired such power to begin with. Even if she was going to be married off to one of the many foreign princes asking for her hand in marriage, she didn’t care about titles. 

Since she was never destined to sit on the throne, her father had given her quite the freedom to do as she pleases. With all her free time, she tends to use it connect to the people of her kingdom; helping the needy during their time of need, always purchasing things from the local vendors and merchants that have travelled long and far. She is beloved by the people, and shines a light on the royal family that makes them more human instead of the godly image that is projected onto the royal family.

Anyone who meets her would fall in love for her - and apparently not even Cursed Spirits were the exception.

The princess have always love spending her time out in nature - horse back riding with a few of the guards in training, swimming in the river that her brothers love to hunt by, learning about the different plants and herbs from the doctors that go out foraging for medical herbs. So it came to the surprise to no one when Sukuna stumbled onto the princess by accident on the riverbed.

Sukuna had not expected to see any human about as he goes about his walk deep in the woods. It was one of those rare moments to himself where he does not necessarily have anything he needed to do on hand, and also the few rare moments where he does not have a mob of sorcerers up his ass. He was just enjoying the sounds of nature and the soft wind blowing against his kimono when he heard what sounded like a human's laughter coming from the river near by. At first he was curious, since no human usually ventures this deeply into the woods. At the same time, he had wanted to ignore it, since humans are just a pain in the ass to deal with even if they can't see you. However, there was something so alluring about that soft giggle that had him wanting to see just who this annoying brat was. So, without even him realising what was happening, his feet quietly walked towards the river and before he knew it, he had pushed the last branch aside to peek over at the river bed curiously. Sitting before him on a flat rock by the river was a woman with flowing hair, her small feet dipped into the running water below as her hands reached forward to play with a few of the fishes that swam by. The pink fabric of her furisode laid behind her like a pink halo, showcasing the intricate sakura trees and flowers that were sown into the fabric. The aura around her was relaxed and peaceful, and somehow just seeing her brings him a sense of peace. As if she could sense his stare, the woman suddenly pauses before she turns to look over her shoulder curiously; bright and seemingly glowing eyes meeting his red ones head on. Sukusa felt the world around him come to a stop as the eyes of the princess before him trapped him on the spot, causing him to loose all train of thought from before. "Oh - were you wanting to sit here too?"

"Huh?"

The casual way she just asked him that question definitely threw him off. The woman actually just lets out a soft laugh at his dry answer. "It's alright - we can share the space if you don't mind." She commented, a teasing tone taking over her voice as she patted the free spot beside her. "I promise I don't bite."

If she had known just who this man was, she might actually understand how ironic her sentence was. But Sukuna decided not to comment on it as he quietly makes his way towards her, sitting down at the spot beside the princess whose eyes had already returned to the river before her. "The water feels extra nice today. And there is more fishes then usual." She conversed with the man casually, causing Sukuna to wonder if she is pretending to be as dense as she is right now. "How are you so calm right now? I mean, do you see a 10ft tall human with four arms every day or what? Your reaction is sort of dull." 

The princess pauses in thought as she thinks, looking far too relaxed by his side. "I have always been able to see...odd things." She started off with a soft hum, glancing over at the man beside her with a soft smile. "I have asked people around me before, and after realising that I am the only one who can see them, I decided to ignore them." She admitted, running her dry hand through her hair softly. "But if I am being honest, this is the first time one has actually ever spoken to me."

"Well, I'm not the everyday curses." He said with a slightly proud tune in his voice, to which the princess beside him looks up at the taller man with interest. "Every day curses are small things, I am basically what people in my world call a Special Grade Curse." He continued, and for some reason, when he saw how her eyes were staring up at in him awe, he looked away with a light blush on his face. He doesn't even know what was about her that drags out these human-like emotions from him - he had never felt like this ever before.

"Special Grade Curse?" She echoes back with curiosity, to which the man beside her just nods softly as he leans back to rest on the free arms, the other two crossed across his chest. Suddenly she turned to face him, her eyes shining so brightly with excitement that it caused Sukuna to squint a little. "Can you explain just what you are to me a little more?"

One question was all it took to have Sukuna falling, and if he was being honest - he actually didn’t mind spending so much time on this little human. From sharing stolen nights in her bedroom in the royal palace, to sneaking out to just go to the riverbed where the met for the first time; they even spent time just wandering about his domain. It was actually during these small explorations of the world around them that created a special bond between the two.

For her, he was her escape from the restrictive and repetitive routine of royal life. For him, she was his utopia, a person he can turn to whenever he feels like just killing everyone around him. Soon though, these emotions sprouted into something deeper and more personal. It was jarring at first, falling for a human - but he knows that she was worth it all.

He remembers the way her eyes shone brightly with a constant look of innocence in them, yet she is mature and realistic enough to know that not everything is sunshine and rainbows. He remembers the way she carries herself, her warm and loving smile, how content he felt whenever she wrapped her arms around him. He loves the feeing of her soft hair that tumbles around her face in soft waves, how it feels like silk whenever he runs his fingers through them. How with just one glance, she can fill the void in his heart that he didn't know existed.

Yet they were never set to happy ending to begin with.

It was during just what started off like a normal day when the town the princess was in was suddenly invaded by a rival kingdom’s army. Their goal was to conquer and take over the kingdom with any means necessarily; meaning that the royal family had to go.

Uraume had entered his hideout, panting with wide eyes as they told Sukuna of the town now plunging into chaos. Within seconds the Cursed Spirit was up and sprinting towards the royal palace, great fear and anger gripping him from within. Entering through the destroyed doors of the grand palace, he ignored the screams of anguish of the others around him as he ran straight towards one of the buildings - the building where the royal sleeping chambers were located.

When he finally found her room, he felt like his heart was ripped out of his chest at the sight before him.

The once beautifully crafted shoji doors with panels decorated in a beautiful forest scene now laid in tatters, the furniture inside looking as if though a huge scuffle had happened. Rushing deeper into the room, he felt his heart sank to its stomach when he saw the splatters of blood leading towards the small room where the princess would sleep in.

Entering the back room, his red eyes scanned over the many splatters of blood about the room, the red handprints of the princess smeared across the ornate walls whilst the body of the princess laid on her futon; the sheets now soaked in blood. "No, no, no.." Sukuna managed out in horror as he quickly made his way to his lover's side, pulling her bloodied body into his arms immediately. "Flower, open your eyes. Please.."

Slowly her eyelids begin to move, and Sukuna felt his heart break when he saw how her now dull and tired eyes shifted to look up at him, taking a moment to truly process just who he was. "I'm so sorry..." Sukuna mumbles out through a small voice as he pulls her closer, trying his hardest to press his hands against the gashing wound on her abdomen. Since the wound was inflicted by a non-sorcerer, there was no trace of cursed magic on her; meaning that there was no way he can save her to begin with. "I-If only I had known..."

"Shh...it's okay.." The princess whispered out in a soft but pained tone, her bloody hand reaching up to cup his tattoo cheek ever so softly. The familiar touch brought another wave of emotion through Sukuna as he tries to blink back his tears, pulling her closer to his chest as he shifted his posture so she was sitting in his lap. He barely even acknowledge his own kimono that was slowly being soaked in blood. "Y-You didn't know this was going to happen...no one did...don't blame yourself..."

With watery red eyes Sukuna marvelled at how even though she was on death's doorstep, she still tried to put on a smile for his sake. "I'm so sorry..." Sukuna manages through a pained tone, tears now sliding down his face in thick streams whilst the woman just gave him a loving smile, resting her head on his shoulder. "Don't be.." She mumbles softly, forcing the man to look down at her as she gave him the same smile that had him falling for her from the beginning. "You know that...it takes more than this to get rid of me.."

The teasing words caused Sukuna to let out a soft and pained laugh, remembering the times where he would tell her how annoying she was whenever she would cling onto him and tease him relentlessly. He would trade anything to go back to those moments once more. "Brat.." He manages through his silent sobs, to which the woman just lets out a soft laugh as her fingers slowly traced along his features. For a few moments it was just silence, but the next time she spoke, Sukuna knew that the end was coming.

"Promise me...that one day, we will meet again."

"I promise, my love." Sukuna mumbles back quietly, resting his forehead against hers when he noticed how much effort it takes for her to blink. "No matter how long it takes, I will wait for you." He told her firmly as he presses a loving kiss on her forehead. "No matter how long it takes.." She echoes quietly, to which Sukuna just press a loving kiss on her head just as he felt her soft hand slowly slide down his chest, falling limply on her side.

For a moment Sukuna just held her against him, quietly crying into her hair. His entire world was in his arms, and just like that she was taken away from him. From that sadness came anger, and he soon found himself with the deep desire to crush whoever took her away from him.

Thus started the true rein of terror under the King of Curses, his anger fueling him to chase for bigger goals. Whilst he strive to rid of this world of dirty humans who took his flower away from her, he kept the vow that they promised one another - that they will wait for the other no matter how long it takes.

Because he had promised you so, and he’d do anything to keep that promise.

© roscgcld — all rights reserved to me, rose, the author and creator of these works. do not repost/translate/claim my work as yours on any platform

[apocalypticwafflekitten]

As Long as I’m With You

Din Djarin x fem!Reader 

A/N: ITS POSTED! ITS FINALLY HERE! I’m finally branching out and writing for Din! This isn’t the first piece I’ve written for him, but it’s the first that I’m publishing! I hope y’all like it and love it as much as I do! This story has kind of become my baby over the course of writing it, so I am hyped to finally share it with y’all!

Original Imagine/Summary Thingy:  This is basically a day-dream that I had to pass the time at work, and I’ve written it up, but hooooooo boy is it a lot longer than I expected.

Warnings: PINING HOLY SHIT! One character is an ass to Mando. He’s also kinda sexist in a few scenes, but he gets what’s coming to him so it’s alright. It also gets a lil’ bit spicy at the end, but no smut. (Idbewillingtodoasecondpartsthatssmuttyifyouwantthough)

Also, a big thanks to @fanficsforheartandsoul for beta reading this story! Thank you so much! 💗💗💗

Word Count:  6.3k....whoops

The sunlight shone bright through the open side of the Crest, and you sighed, revelling in the warmth on your skin, and the fresh air in your lungs. The smell of caff in your mug helped set you at ease this morning. 

You smiled when you saw Din’s silhouette coming towards you from the close horizon. He was coming back from the main part of town, and you noticed the cradle that was missing from his side. 

“I take it they’re good to watch over him?” You asked when Din got close enough to hear you.  

“Yeah. They said they’d watch over him while we worked on this bounty and we agreed that I’d cover any expenses for taking care of him.”  

“That’s good. Hopefully the little womp-rat won’t be too much trouble for them.” 

You smiled, set at ease knowing that a couple locals that Din knew were watching over Grogu while the two of you went on this hunt. There was just one last thing missing before you and Mando could head out for the village. 

“Hey, when is that other hunter supposed to be here? The one you hired to translate?”

“I thought he’d be here by the time I was back,” Din took a second to check the time on his vambrace and sighed in exasperation, “He should have been here half an hour ago. I don’t know where he is.”   

You were less than pleased, but on the bright side, this gave you a little more time to look at the wiring in a section under the control panel that had been a thorn in your side for nearly a week now.   

“Hmm. That’s concerning. Hopefully he’s alright. Let me know when he gets here, I’m going to work on the control panel. Call me if you need anything!”   

“Will do.”

You turned away from the warm sunlight and hopped up the ladder to the cockpit, missing the way Din watched you on your way up, and lingered on the hatch a little while after. 

~~~~~~~~

You groaned when you saw who Din hired to help with this bounty.

You knew him. And you wish you didn’t.

Of course Din couldn’t have known when he hired the guy. There’s no way that he would do something this awful to you on purpose, and you certainly hadn’t done anything to earn this level of spite. At least not from Mando. Plus, you didn’t talk about your past that much, and you wouldn’t have even remembered this particular character if you did. But now that he was standing in front of you with his stupid golden hair, in a suit you’d expect some fancy senator to wear, you wondered how you ever forgot about him. Perhaps instead, you repressed him, wanting to love the rest of your days in peace without the thought of his grotesque faux charisma.

You grimaced as he walked up to the edge of the Crest’s ramp, his extravagant cape flowing behind him. He looked so proud. It was a shame he had no reason to be. 

From beside you, Din noticed your....less than pleased face. 

“You okay there?” he asked from beside you, leaning close to whisper. 

“Yeah. I’ve just,” You let out an exasperated sigh, “I’ve dealt with this guy before and--”  

“He’s painful?”  

“You’ll be done with his bullshit before he starts bullshitting.” 

“Got it.”  Din nodded and stood straight again when the man approached.   

‘Hello! I’m Gregory Moffa the Third. And you’re Mando? You hired me to help with a bounty right? Said you needed someone to translate the local’s--” Gregory paused when he saw you, “Oh my gosh! Sweetheart! Is that you?”   

Din perked up when he heard the nickname from the other hunter. His head snapped to you. 

“Yep.” You respond blankly, “It’s me. In the flesh.”

“Oh how wonderful it is to see you again!” Gregory swept you up into a hug and twirled you in circles, placing a kiss on your cheek. You were stiff in his arms until he set you down, and you used Din’s shoulder to regain your balance. 

“Great to see you too.”

Din wasn’t quite sure why, but something about this ‘Gregory’ character was putting him off. Maybe it was what you said a minute ago about his bullshitting, or maybe it was the way he strutted around in that gaudy outfit like he owned the galaxy. Maybe it was both. Either way, he hated it when the hired hunter wrapped you up and spun you in his arms. He hated it when he saw how limp you were. And his blood boiled when the hunter kissed your upset face. But when you leaned on Mando to balance yourself, his head snapped to you and he forgot about Gregory, reaching his hand out to your waist to steady you. 

“Thank you.” You smiled up at him, and he was thankful for his helmet when he felt a bashful warmth brushing up his cheeks

“Of course.” He lingered on you a moment before looking up to speak to both you and Gregory, “We’d better start moving. There’s a little over a day’s walk to the village from here, and I’d like to get there as soon as possible.”  

“Sounds good to me.” You responded.

“Me too—wait,” Gregory paused, “You’re taking her with us?” 

“Yes.” Mando replied simply.  

“But she’s just a mechanic. She hasn’t—“ 

“She’s perfectly capable.” Mando interjected. He sounded nearly aggressive, “She’s been on countless hunts with me and she’s never let me down. She’s coming with us.”  

Gregory’s brow steeled for half a second, but he put on a charming smile. “Well, if you think she’s capable then I’ll just have to trust you on that.”  

It wasn’t quite the answer you were looking for, but at least it was something, and at least he was letting it go.  

“Good. Let’s get going.” Din said, strapping his rifle to his back and heading off. 

From behind you, Gregory’s smile dropped to a grimace as he watched you follow after the Mandalorian, letting out a small growl as he saw your bright smile aimed towards the beskar-clad hunter. 

~~~~~~ 

The walk was beautiful. The sand dunes over which you walked crested in golden waves. Sunshine gleaming off of them was warm in a comforting way, and the cool breeze that brushed the sands was welcome across the desert.  

A gust of wind slapped your hair into your face and you laughed playfully, turning to let the breeze blow your hair from your face. It felt so nice as you smiled up into the wind. 

You’d love to visit this place again. Maybe sometime when Din gets a little down time he could take you back here to relax for a few days. Just you, him, and the kid. You smiled at the idea. Maybe Grogu could build little sandcastles with you.

“...And you see. That’s how I single-handedly saved a tribe of Ewoks from the remnants of the Empire!” 

Your smile faltered. Gregory wasn’t speaking to anyone in particular. He was boasting to you, to Mando, to the air if it would listen, and he just would not shut up.

You tried to drown him out again, watching two creatures soaring across the sky together. They winded around each other and rode across the breeze beside one another. As you watched them you found yourself thinking of Mando in his shining suit of beskar. What would it be like to be that close to him? To wind together and hold him for however long you could as you soared through the galaxy?

You shook the idea from your thoughts and looked in front of you, noticing a short cliffside ahead. 

“Um Mando?” 

“Yeah?” 

“I’m guessing we’ll have to climb that cliff-side?”  

“I’m not seeing another way around it. It’s not too tall of a climb. I’ll—“  

“That should be any easy climb! Nothing at all really! Wouldn’t you say so Mando?” Gregory interjected, shoving between the two of you and plopping an arm around your shoulder.

Mando remained silent for a moment, and if you didn’t know any better you’d think he was offended by the interruption.  

“Yeah. Not that bad.” His voice was tense coming through the modulator.  

Gregory walked ahead of you and Mando, presumably to scope out the climb or to get a head start.

Mando turned back to you and placed a hand on your arm, “I’ll help you out if you need it.” He told you quietly.

“Noted.” You reply, trailing your eyes from Mando, up to the slightly intimidating ridge.  

~~~

It really wasn’t that bad a climb. The cliff was forty feet at a guess, so it didn’t take too long to get up it’s side, however this last bit was jagged and there was barely a good place for a grip. 

Once Din had gotten on top of the ridge, he looked over to check on you and Gregory. Gregory was already on the cliff top, having taken that head start, but you were still struggling to get up the last bit of the ridge. And Din couldn’t blame you. Even he had trouble finding his grip on this last bit.

“Here, take my hand. I’ll help you up the rest of the way.” Din offered, leaning over the ledge and extending out his arm. 

You smiled gratefully at him and took his outstretched hand. He hoisted you up the last of the cliffside, patiently lifting you as you found your footing and made it up to the top. 

“Thank you Mando. My savior!” You joked once you found your footing, giving a little laugh. And if you were right, you heard a quiet chuckle come from under the beskar helmet.  

“Hey, guys, we need to get going. The village is still a long way away, and I really don’t want to bunk down for the night this far off.” Gregory suggested, but his tone sounded anything but helpful. He sounded irritated, and you didn’t miss the glare he sent Mando’s way. 

You gave Gregory a wary look before nodding in agreement, giving Mando’s hand a squeeze before letting go to continue your walk. 

~~~~~~ 

There was something about the way your hair shined in the afternoon suns, and the way you walked through the sand as if you’d done it a million times. You were beautiful. 

Mando had fallen behind you at some point along the walk. It was a relatively safe area and the journey was mostly a straight shot through the sand dunes. Plus he knew that if you were uncertain you’d ask for help. That was something he liked about you.  

But he liked a lot about you. Everything actually. You really were amazing on hunts--never fearing to defend yourself or Mando when you needed to, but if you could talk your way through a problem, you did. And Maker, the first time he’d seen you shoot a blaster...he thinks that’s the moment he fell in love with you. You had grabbed his own blaster from the holster on his thigh and shot an ambushing hunter he hadn’t even seen, yelling for him to get down. He’d been a goner ever since. 

And gosh how you were with the kid! It always surprised him how you’d cared for the child. He’d hired you as a mechanic, not a babysitter. But the moment you met the kid, your eyes went wide and you scooped him up in your arms, holding him as if he were your own son. And later, when the kid had decided that he was tired, Din heard you singing a lullaby in your native language. It was soft, and kind--everything that a lullaby should be. And it pulled his heart to you in small, timid waves.

He saw you watching the birds earlier, those beautiful creatures with tails longer than he was tall entwining around each other. He wondered what you were thinking as you watched them. He kept thinking of you. How you would feel in his arms, and how your soft hands would feel holding his hand, or maybe his face. Just the idea made him smile.

But then it dropped, not that anyone knew, when he caught a glimpse of Gregory talking to you. His heart clenched as he wondered about this other hunter. What was the history? You didn’t seem to like him, but you’d said you’d worked with him before. Were you just a mechanic? Why weren’t you working for him now? Were you in a relationship? Did you love him? Do you love him? No. Din didn’t think you loved Gregory. At least not anymore. But what about before that. And—

“So, you’ve been traveling with the little sweetheart for a while now huh?” Gregory asked, coming uncomfortably close to Mando and ripping him from his reverie. 

He didn’t answer, he just watched the bounty hunter, and saw a gleam of something malicious in his eyes.

“You like her don’t you?” Gregory sneered, and received his answer when Mando visibly tensed beside him, “Yeah, you do.”

He smiled something awful, as if he’d just dug up the best blackmail in the Outer Rim, “I’ve seen the way you watch her. The way you help her with just the gentlest of manners.”

Gregory’s smile fell and he deadpanned, “Give it up Mando. She won’t ever return the affections. I mean come on! Look at her! She deserves a luxurious life. She wants someone to settle down with. Maybe have a couple kids. Someone who’ll always be there for her. Someone who can make her happy. You can’t give her that Mando. She needs someone like me. A stable man.”

Although he remained silent, Mando felt himself sink inwardly, wanting nothing more than to hide away in his tent, alone for the night, thinking about how warm you’d be beside him. He knew there was truth behind the words, as much as he hated to admit that Gregory was right. You deserve the best life, and he couldn’t give you that.

You heard every word. You heard every slimy word that fell from that moof-milker’s face, no matter how quiet he tried to be. You felt a burning rage begin simmering at the bottom of your gut, but you didn’t need that right now. Fighting wouldn’t do a single thing for you. You needed to finish this job and get as far away from Gregory as possible before more damage could be done. 

“Hey, Mando. Earth to Mando!” Gregory mocked, waving a hand in front of the helmet’s visor, forgetting his volume as jealousy bubbled up in his chest, “She doesn’t want you! She wants me!.”

You stop dead in your tracks and you feel fury slowly bloom in your chest, and your fists balled beside you. You didn’t need to fight. You didn’t need to fight. You didn’t need to—

“Hey there Sweetheart, why’d you stop walking? We still have a ways to go and-”  

You turn on your heel, eyes ablaze with outrage glaring straight at Gregory as you march right up to him jab a finger into his chest.

“Shut up! Shut up you asshole! You have no right to tell him what I do and don’t want! You don’t know me! I worked for you for a month! One Month! You couldn’t possibly have an idea of what kind of life I want! And bullshit on always being there for me! You left me with a broken rib and a blaster wound! In a ditch!” You stopped to breathe for a second before continuing, “For the past year I’ve been working for Din and he’s always been there when I needed him! Just fuck off! You have nothing on him!” You paused from your furious rant, taking a few breaths to hold off the tears that had welled in your eyes before narrowing them, and glaring straight at him, “And don’t ever tell Mando what to do or not do.”  

Gregory’s eyes were wide. He stuttered and tripped over his own words to find some excuse, but you didn’t care to listen. You were too focused on not crying and quelling the rage that seethed within you.

Mando wanted to be mad. Seeing how Gregory had upset you so much, he knew he should be. But when you stormed off with tears in your eyes, he just felt awful. All he wanted to do was run after you, sweep you into his arms, and make everything better.    

~~~ 

It wasn’t much longer until you set up camp for the night. Din found a place at the foot of a sandy hill that could cover you for now.  

The rest of the walk had been quiet and tense. Din had followed after you and Gregory took up the rear. Silence stiffened the air you breathed, making every beautiful sway of the sand dunes harsh and angry beside you.  

Maker, you wanted to cry, but the tears at the edges of your eyes were hot and unforgiving as they reminded you of what that asshole had said.  

You set up your tent in stubborn silence, lost in the furious rampage Gregory was enduring in your imagination.  

“Who does that asshole think he is?” 

“Trying to tell others what I want when he doesn’t even know.”

“Maker, I can’t wait for this job to be over.”  

“Then it can be just Din and I again.”   

The idea made you smile.

Once his tent was built, Gregory turned in for the night. He didn’t dare speak to you again, and you had a sneaking suspicion that he feared what Mando would do if he upset you again. Needless to say, you were thankful for the peace and quiet that came when he’d fallen asleep.

The campfire in front of you danced and the tips of it licked at the dry sky. It calmed you to watch the golden flames as you lost yourself in thought.  

You found yourself pondering the idea again. The same one you’d pondered all day, remembering the entwined birds from earlier. You became lost in that beautiful daydream where you got to hold your Mandalorian close to you every night, and watch the stars from the top of the Crest. The one where you kissed him just as a shooting star passed above you. He would ask what you wished for, and you would say you didn’t need to wish for anything. You had everything you could ask for. 

A shine moving in your peripherals brought you back to the campsite with the three tents and the small campfire. 

“Hey.” Din greeted cautiously. 

“Hi.” You responded quietly, looking back into the fire with far-off eyes.

Din was quiet for a moment, not really knowing what to say or ask. You seemed so upset and all he wanted to do was fix it. He just wanted to hear you laugh again or see you smile even. He wanted to make you feel better.  

“Are you—How are you doing?” Din asked. 

“I’m alright.” You sighed into the cool air.

“Starshine, I can see through that. Please don’t lie to me.”   

You huff a humorless laugh before giving in. Sometimes you swore Din could read minds. Maybe he was secretly force sensitive like the kid.

“I’m just upset that Gregory would make such a stupid fucking assumption,” To Din, the anger in your voice sounded wrong on your lips, “I mean, I knew he was a douche, but to assume he knows what I want? To assume the kind of guy and life I want? It's just...agh!” You groan, cradling your head with the heels of your hands, “And what he said about you! He had no right to say anything like that! No right to discourage you or make you feel bad about the life you live!” 

“But he’s right. I could never give you the kind of life you want.” Din was quick to add on, saying what he’d been thinking this whole time. He feels the same sinking feeling from earlier. The life of a bounty hunter isn’t what you deserve. Especially after putting up with him for so long. You deserve so much more than his tired hands could ever give you.

“He doesn’t know what kind of life I want. He barely even knows me.” You retort, pulling Din from his spiraling thoughts. 

He stayed silent for a while after, pondering a question that had suddenly taken him over.

“What kind of life do you want?”  

You thought for a second before responding to him.

“A happy one.” You answered, but there was more on your mind. That wasn’t enough and you could feel what you really wanted at the tip of your tongue. You hesitated a moment before continuing, “One with you in it.”  

Din swore his heart stopped beating. The galaxy went silent and you were the only thing he could see as the words you’d said replayed in his mind. 

“You--You.....With me?” Din sputtered out a moment later, leaning closer to you with hope blooming wild in his chest. 

You nod, looking back into the fire.

“If I’m being honest, I don’t have a lot by way of family anymore. A lot of my friends died in the rebellion, and I lost my parents a long time ago. I know I’m just your mechanic, and it’s probably not my place to say this, but you and the kid have started feeling like family to me. Over the past year, I’ve grown to love travelling with y’all. It’s amazing. I get to see the galaxy in a whole new way. We’ve gone to planets I never could have imagined, and I’ve seen sights so fantastic you couldn’t describe them with words!” You smiled to yourself for a moment, collecting your thoughts before continuing, “Maybe I’m too attached, but I don’t really care if you settle down, or if you stay travelling in that ship for the rest of your life, I know the dangers and the hardships that come with this life and I’m willing to go through it if I can be with you. I’m happy to be there if you want me.”   

Din’s heart clenched in his chest and his breath froze in his throat.

‘”You mean you want to stay on the Crest with the kid and I? You want that life? It’ll-it’ll make you happy?” He asked. Maker, if this were real, he’d be the happiest, the luckiest damn hunter in the whole galaxy. If he could have you by his side, with him for the rest of his life, he would die a happy man whether that be tomorrow or a hundred years from now.

You nod to him and smile, “As long as I’m with you, I’ll be happy.”  

You couldn’t see it, but beneath that helmet, Din was smiling bigger than he could ever remember smiling, with his cheeks pressing against the sides of his helmet. His heart was pounding and he felt like he couldn’t breathe. Maker, he just wanted to swoop you up in his arms and--wait! He can! He can now! And you’re right there! 

Before you realized what was going on, you were swept up into the air, against Din’s cool beskar cuirass. He held you tight against him and spun you in circles. You giggled and wrapped your arms around his neck, hugging him as tight as you could.

“Tell me again Starshine, so I know this is real.” He pleaded, setting you back down on the ground and pulling you close to him. 

You cuckled once more before looking up to meet his eyes through the visor that separated you, “As long as I’m with you Din Djarin, I’ll be happy.”  

 He felt like exploding. Like there were fireworks going off in his chest and can’t remember a moment he’s ever been happier. And in his moment of excitement, he let his mind bubble off the end of his tongue.

“I love you!” He blurted.

As soon as he realized what he’d said, Din stopped and his heart squeezed—stilled—in his chest.

You giggled a moment before cupping the side of his helmet with a gentle hand.

“I love you too Din.” You reached up on your toes to place a small kiss where you thought his lips were, and your smile afterward sent his heart soaring into the sky.

“Spend the night in my tent with me. Please.” He asked urgently, taking your hands in his to lead you to the middle tent. 

You nod excitedly, your eyes bright like the stars that gave you your nickname, “I’d love that.”  

Din led you to his tent and held the flap open for you. These tents weren’t exactly built for two people, but that just meant you and Din got to be a little more cozy.  

As soon as you were in the tent and DIn had fastened the flap behind him he turned to you. 

“Close your eyes.” 

You quirked a brow at the strange request, confusion clear in your expression.  

“Please.” He all but begged.  

Although you were still confused you gave in and closed your eyes. Shortly after, there was a quiet hiss followed by silence.

Seeing you without the filter of his helmet was...it was heavenly. He couldn’t keep his eyes off of you. He wanted to memorize your face this way--the ridge of your lips beneath your nose, and the curve of your face as it angels into your cheekbones. Your skin didn’t have the grey tint to it that the visor gave to everything. Instead, he swore he’d never seen anything so beautiful before. The only thing missing were your eyes, bright and sparkling and looking at him. How he wished he could see the millions of hues dancing in your eyes without the visor’s tint.  

“Mando?” You asked after a while of silence.

There was no warning, but when you felt his bare hands on either side of your face seconds later, and the urgent press of his lips against yours, you melted into him, wrapping your arms around his neck and pulling him closer to you.  

Your lips danced against one another, reeling together as if you’d done this a thousand times before. His hands snaked into your hair and you moaned when he pulled at it. He stuttered for a moment, but the moment was over as soon as it started and he was back on your lips. He kissed you over and over and over again, as if a dam had been shattered and he was letting loose for once in his lifetime. His lips felt like they were bruising yours, but it felt so good to finally feel him like this. 

Slowly, he pushed you back until you were lying beneath him, keeping his lips against yours. His tongue swiped at your lip and you opened your mouth to let him in, your tongues meeting and moving to feel one another as much as you could. His hand held the place where your jaw and neck met, and his thumb gently brushed against your cheek. 

You hear a groan from above you when suck his tongue into your mouth and give it a little bite. He freezes, whines as you keep your hold on his tongue, and when you let go he leans back and presses his forehead to yours with deep, heavy breaths.

“Maker Starshine, you’re going to be the death of me.”   

You giggled a little and nuzzled your nose against his, trying desperately to force your eyes closed no matter how bad you wanted to open them and see your Mandalorians face.  

Your Mandalorian. The realization hit you then--What your conversation from earlier meant--and a huge smile broke out onto your face. Your arms wrapped tighter around Din’s neck, and he chuckled when he felt it.

“What’s got you smiling so big, pretty girl?” Din teased and you could hear the mirroring smile in his face. 

“Oh nothing,” You quipped, “I’m just laying under my Mandalorian after confessing my love to him and kissing him senseless.”  

Din gave an amused huff above you, “Well, he must be one lucky guy if he gets to be yours.”

You smiled for a moment, letting his compliment sink into a comfortable silence. But after a moment, you broke the silence to say what was on your mind.

“You know Din,” your voice took on a more serious tone, as you blindly reached up to cup the side of his face, feeling the stubble on his cheek and the curve of his jaw. You wondered if he looked as handsome as you tried to imagine him looking, “Jokes aside, I’ve wanted this for so long. It's...it’s amazing that you finally know how I feel, and I’m so happy to be with you like this.”

“As am I Starshine. I’ve wanted to kiss you like that since I met you, and I think I fell in love with you the day you grabbed my blaster from my holster and shot that hunter. To have you in my tent, under me, kissing me, is so much more than I could ever deserve,” Din paused to take in the way you looked laying there beneath him, “But I want it so bad.”

Din finally moved to lay beside you. His armor clunked as he laid down on the sleeping mat and pulled you in close to him.

You were so warm and soft. He couldn’t feel it where the beskar covered him, but the warmth that came from your hands traveled from his cheeks to his jaw, and seeped beneath the cowl around his neck. When your legs tangled with his, he felt the warmth of them on his calves, and when the whole of your body was against his, his heart felt warmer than it had in years. He curled into you and squeezed you to his chest. He wanted to sit in your radiating heat for the rest of time. 

“I could spend forever like this.” You smiled, nuzzling your nose into his musky cowl. 

“I could too Starshine. And I’d love every moment.” 

You nuzzled further, seeking a comfortable spot to lay your head among the beskar armor. It took you a minute, but you settled into the turn of his shoulder where his pauldron could cradle your head, and you could fall into the crook of his neck.  

But there was something about laying here with him that just made you so giddy. Getting to feel the weight of his arm as it draped over your waist made a happy squeal rise in your throat, and it took you everything to push it back down. You wanted to get up and jump around in circles because you were finally, finally here in his arms. You were his and he was yours and if that wasn’t something to celebrate, you didn’t know what. It felt like a firework show was going off in your belly and you had a feeling that you weren’t going to fall asleep easily tonight.  

You felt Din shift a little, turning to lay more on his back so you could rest your head easier. You wondered what he was thinking about as he lay there beside you. Was he as excited as you were, unable to sleep because of it, or was he already passed out, dreaming about whatever a Mandalorian would dream about? Either way, there was a part of you that wanted to ask if he was still awake--to see if this giddiness was just you.

~~~

Everything about you had to be perfect didn’t it? 

Din wondered as he lay there beside you, sleep, a far off idea that was thrown to the wind. He knew it would be damn near impossible to sleep tonight with you lying beside him. His bones felt like they were shaking, and any time he tried to readjust or calm himself down, it just got worse because Holy Maker, you were right there. Right next to him with your pretty face nuzzled so close to his own, and your body pressed against him as if he was made to hold you. With his arm around you like this, touching you in such an intimate way, he felt like he was made for you, and he certainly had no problem with that.  

But just as he was about to finally give in and actually try to sleep, he felt you move, tilting your head up just a bit to talk to him.

“Hey Din?” Your voice was quiet as if you were trying not to wake him. 

“Yes Starshine?” He replied.  

“I can’t fall asleep.” 

“I don’t think I can either.” Din admitted, pulling you even closer to him, “I’m so happy to have you laying here with me. Makes it hard to sleep when I’m so excited.”

“I feel the same.” You smile, reaching out blindly to find his face in the night’s darkness. When your hand found his cheek he leaned into your touch, starved for these simple affections that you were so willing to give. He made a quick note in the back of his mind that your eyes were still closed, and he felt his heart soften even more. In all honesty, if you opened your eyes you wouldn’t be able to see much of anything now that the suns were set, but Din’s heart was warmed by your respect for his creed. 

“Do you want to go sit by the fire? It’s probably still smoldering. We could bring it back up and just..talk?” Din suggested.  

“No. I think I just want to lay here with you.” You mumbled, “You’re comfy, even with all the beskar.” 

Din only chuckled a little, and held you tighter to him. He was happy to stay laying beside you. You were pretty comfortable too. 

There were a few moments of silence before Din heard a quiet humming coming from beside him. It was soothing, soft, and distantly familiar. It took him to those quiet moments on the ship when hyperspace streaked the front shield with millions of trailing stars; when all that could be heard were the rumbling engines humming through the old ship. Those were Din’s favorite moments. When the silence of space fell comfortingly over the ship and he could rest, knowing that you and the kid were peacefully sleeping. It took him a minute, but he remembered the song when he thought of you and the child: It was the lullaby that you usually sang to Grogu, and you were humming it to him.  

Din smiled and he nested into you, pulling you against him to feel the soft vibrations of your voice against him, and before he knew it, he was asleep, with you following close behind. 

~~~~~~  

The job all in all was a success. 

The following morning you woke to find Din already awake with his helmet back on, watching over you in the sunlight that streamed through the then walls. When you left the tent to get breakfast, you saw Gregory already eating his breakfast. You watched his eyes widen when Din came from the tent right after you, silencing the snide remarks you knew he was holding back with a kiss to the cheek of Din’s helmet. 

The rest of the walk to the village was quiet. It was only a few more hours, so you walked beside Din, and Gregory reluctantly took up the rear, glaring at the shining beskar armor, and the man who lived within it.  

Surprisingly enough, Gregory could actually translate the local’s language, and he did his job, although begrudgingly, so he could get his cut and leave. 

The three of you found the bounty hiding out in a small hut just outside of the village on the edge of a nearby dune field. He put up a fight, giving Gregory one of the one of the most painful looking bruises you’d ever seen with a swift kick to the face, plus a broken wrist from a punch gone wrong.  As much as you hated watching others get hurt, you had to laugh a little at Gregory’s ‘just desserts’. 

As soon as the bounty was frozen in carbonite, Din went to pick up the kid, and Gregory went back to his ship after he’d been paid for his services.  

You sat in the cockpit, in one of the side seats, to take a minute to calm down and rest from the past couple days. You were sore from all the walking and fighting. Thankfully you didn’t have to bandage anything up, or disinfect any cuts, but your muscles were happy to let you know that you needed a rest. You closed your eyes for a moment, letting yourself rest and drift off until Din came back.  

A little while later, your eyes fluttered open and you heard footsteps behind you. You turned in your seat to see Din behind you, holding the kid in his arms. You smiled and stood, reaching out for the kid before giving Din’s helmet a small kiss.

“Did he do alright?”  

“Yeah. They said he was pretty good, but he kept trying to eat the frogs in their backyard.” Din chuckled.

“Hmm? You were snatching those froggies huh?” You asked the kiddo, booping his nose and giggling a little when he cooed at you. He reached out and tried to grab your finger, successfully clutching it in his tiny hands.

Din watched you and the kid, silently adoring you and how you were with him. Before him was the picture of everything he wanted. You, Grogu, and him in a slow, happy moment between hunts. This, right here, was paradise for him.

“I love you Starlight,” Din whispered, “I’m—you—you make me—….you’re everything.” He eventually breathed out.

“I love you too Din,” you smiled fondly up at him, at your Mandalorian, “You’re my everything too.” 

Din smiled under his helmet, and pulled you close, leaning down to press his forehead to yours. 

You smiled and nuzzled up against him, giving his helmet a kiss over his lips.

From your arms, Grogu cooed and gave a happy cry, and you laughed again, agreeing with the kid that you were happy to finally be with Din.

~~~~~~

Tags: @justalittlecloud​ @fanficsforheartandsoul​ @maxlordsgf

[choicesarehard]

I keep my streams about Wolf Bride light-hearted. It’s been a hell of a year, and I think we all need a space where we can laugh together. But part of responsibly consuming problematic media is being aware of where it fails. And that’s why I think it’s important to talk about Morgan, and Wolf Bride’s troubling depiction of blindness. 

Morgan is one of the first Love Interests in Choices to have a canon disability. She is representation many players with disabilities, like myself, are eager for. But like any form of representation, writing a blind character requires research. A quick google search will lead you to numerous visually impaired voices who outline the tropes and stereotypes that harm their community. Wolf Bride has included nearly all of them. 

signal boosts are appreciated

Not All Blind People Wear Sunglasses

Morgan is shown wearing dark sunglasses from the moment she appears on screen. And there are certainly blind people who wear sunglasses — particularly those who (unlike Morgan) can still perceive some degree of light and dark, and experience painful light sensitivity. But no context is ever giving for Morgan’s use of sunglasses. In fact, they aren’t even addressed for four chapters. 

[ID: Two screenshots from Chapter Four of Wolf Bride. The first features a text box over a forest background, and reads “You glance at Morgan, and are surprised to see the dark glasses still covering her eyes.” The second features a labeled image of her sunglasses, placed over a black background, with a selectable button that reads “What does Morgan look like without these?”] What follows is a scene Pixelberry could have used to provide insight into an assistive device the sighted community may not be entirely familiar with. They could have touched on degrees of visual impairment, or why some blind individuals need dark lenses while others don’t. They could even have explained that for some individuals with visual impairments, dark lenses make tasks like reading or navigating dimly lit spaces harder.  Instead, and far more troublingly, MC is given the option to ask Morgan not to wear them anymore. And depending on your choice, the book is coded to remove the sunglasses from her sprite in future scenes. This reduces an assistive device to a fashion choice, something our MC can wish away if they don’t find it attractive. And that isn’t okay. 

Unusual Eyes

[ID: Two side-by-side screenshots from Chapter Four of Wolf Bride. The first features a text box placed over a forest background that reads “With a start, you realize her pale eyes aren’t looking at you, aren’t seeing you, aren’t seeing anything.” The second features Morgan’s sad sprite in the same forest setting, and a text box that reads “...I’ve been blind since birth.”] Morgan has a customizable sprite. But regardless of the ethnicity you select for her, she is depicted with pale blue eyes. And that troubles me. Because the stereotype that all blind individuals have cloudy, distorted, or unusual eyes is pervasive and harmful. 

Even when it isn’t tied to another harmful trope — the blind character as mystical seer or psychic — this stereotype create an expectation that blindness is something that always manifests in a visible way. And for millions of blind individuals, that isn’t the case. 

And while cataracts, trauma to the eye, and corneal infections can all cause the clouded effect most of us recognize from media, none turn your brown eyes into blue.  Heightened Senses

Another common stereotype in media is the blind character who’s remaining senses have become heightened as a compensatory mechanism, often to a supernatural degree.

[ID: Two side-by-side screenshots from Chapter Four of Wolf Bride. The first features Morgan’s surprised sprite in a forest setting and a text box that reads “I guess I sort of...feel things. Like the place on my cheek where the branch blocked the wind.” The second features Morgan’s neutral sprite in the same forest setting, and a text box that reads “I can smell the dew on the leaves, and the moss on the bark. Can’t you?] Individuals with visual impairment may learn to rely on their other senses to navigate the world around them. But they do not suddenly gain the ability to sense the location of a branch based on wind patterns, or to accurately throw a dart at a carnival game ballon based on its smell. 

[ID: Two side-by-side screenshots from Chapter Eight of Wolf Bride. The first features a text box placed over a carnival background that reads “Pop! Pop! Pop! Three darts fly through the air, striking their targets.” The second features the white MC with straight blonde hair. Her sprite is surprised, and beneath it is a text box that reads “So you did that by smell, too?]

This trope may seem harmless — after all, it gave us Daredevil, a beloved blind superhero — but it contributes to the unachievable expectations we often place on real-world individuals with visually impairments. And that isn’t fair. 

Of course, we all suspected Morgan’s abilities were due to something other than heightened senses. And that in and of itself is a problem. 

Magical / Supernatural Abilities

To the surprise of no one, Morgan exhibits these unusual abilities because she is a werewolf. But choosing to give a blind character magical abilities should only be done after asking yourself some challenging questions. As visually-impaired Tumblr user @mimzy-writing-online explains:

Your blind characters don’t need a magical ability that negates their blindness. [Ask yourself why it’s so important to you to give them one]. If it’s because they can’t do all the things you want them to do without it, then should you really have written them as blind in the first place? 

And that’s the thing. Morgan isn’t actually written as a blind character, not when it counts. Morgan shoots bullets with accuracy, runs through unfamiliar terrain, and navigates moving objects with ease. She doesn’t use common assistive devices like canes or screen readers. Her sunglasses are discarded at MC’s request. The scientific papers that fill her research facility are not digitized for accessibility or written in braille. 

Even her dreams, which should be reflections of how she perceives reality, look identical to Bastien's — which makes no sense for someone who has been canonically blind since birth. 

[ID: Two side-by-side screenshots from Chapters Five and Eight of Wolf Bride. The first features a scene from Morgan’s lucid dream. Set in a glamorous hotel, it includes visual details like twinkling lights, and patterned carpets. The color is tinted a grey-blue and the exposure on the image has been increased to an unnatural level. The second features a scene from Bastien’s lucid dream. Set in a forest, it shares the same tinted and over-exposed qualities as the first.]

Her blindness isn’t an integral part of her character. Instead, it’s a narrative device, paraded in front of the reader when it can further a central — and deeply disturbing — plot point. [content warning: discussion of discrimination and child abuse / abandonment ahead]  Morgan Was Left to Die Because She Was Blind 

And Jesus, what a plot point it is. In Chapter 11, we learn that Morgan was left to die in the woods because she was born “wrong, sickly, blind.” But the only canonical disability or illness she is ever shown to have is her blindness. 

[ID: Three side-by-side screenshots from Chapter Eleven of Wolf Bride. The first two feature the white MC with straight blonde hair’s shocked sprite in front of a forest background. The first text box reads “I don’t understand...” followed by two dialogue options “Why was Morgan abandoned?” and “Is that what you do to full moon babies? Kill them?” The second panel’s read box reads “Just because she was blind?” The third panel features  the old woman Noemi’s sad sprite, placed over a forest background. Her text box reads “If we know an infant will not survive, it is best to let it die quickly.”]

I...am frankly having a hard time thinking through the screenshot-induced fury to make a coherent argument here. To imply that blindness is an impairment so limiting that death is the only foreseeable outcome? That being born blind somehow makes a child “wrong”? The ignorance and prejudice shown in this scene is staggering. 

But equally troubling is the response of the main characters to this revelation. Yes, in fiction, bad people sometimes do bad things. But Noemi isn’t shown to be a bad person. Neither is Bastien, who knew what his pack had been guilty of in the past, and even seeks to justify it to a limited degree. 

Most shockingly, Morgan herself, who in the second screenshot below has just overheard that she was left to die as an infant because she is blind, isn’t angry or upset. She’s almost apologetic, still seeking a place within the pack. 

[ID: Two side-by-side screenshots from Chapter Eleven of Wolf Bride. The first features Hispanic Bastien’s sad sprite in front of a forest background. The text box beneath him reads “It doesn’t happen often, Clara, but...” The second features white Morgan’s sad sprite in front of the same forest background. The text box beneath her reads “I didn’t mean any harm. Especially after...what I just overheard.”]

By introducing the idea that a child born blind cannot survive, let alone thrive, without superhuman abilities, and then failing to soundly and thoroughly refute that idea through the characters we identify with, Pixelberry is unintentionally perpetuating the same false beliefs that have led to real-world instances of infanticide for centuries. And that isn’t okay. 

I don’t know where Pixelberry will go with the story from here. Perhaps in today’s chapter some of these concerns have been addressed...but I doubt it. In the meantime, I’ve also written to their support staff to express my deep concern and disappointment in the treatment of Morgan’s character. And I’d encourage you to do the same. 

Will I continue to keep streaming Wolf Bride? For now, yes. My VIP subscription is already paid for, and frankly, I want to see Morgan’s arc through. I guess the small part of me that was excited for the representation is still hopeful the narrative can be corrected. 

But I’ll be adding a content warning at the start of each stream for ablism, and that’s something I never thought I’d have to do.  Screenshots courtesy of CrimsonFeatherGames on Youtube

[pillage-and-lute]

An Ever Fixed Mark (Part 2)

Part 1, (here) Part 3, Part 4 , Part 5, Part 6, Part 7, Part 8, Part 9, Part 10,

Read it on Ao3 HERE

Just three days after the first installation and 4,000 words? That’s right baby! Because I run on validation and whew! Y’all provided.  The courting gift scene based on a recommendation from @tempered-char. Also with a hint of Geralt’s Delicate Sensibilities, as inspired by @valdomarx +Thicc Eskel as a bonus

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“Come in.”

It was soft, but not nervous, and Geralt pushed open the door.

Geralt wasn’t a romantic. He didn’t believe in love at first sight. From what he’d seen of the world he wasn’t so sure he believed in love at all. He could imagine, however, that if he were a painter or a poet he could have fallen in love right there.

The room was a tiny, dusty study, and standing in front of the window was, presumably, Julian. The light haloed him, dust mites floating down. Grey-blue doublet and slightly darker pants brought out clear, bright eyes, rimmed with thick lashes. 

He had a rounder jawline, the sort that was in style with painters at the moment. It leant a softness to his face. Maybe that was the fact that he was...nineteen? Geralt couldn’t remember.

He realized he was staring and bowed. It was awkard, still holding his gift and the gift from the countess. He looked up, Julian was smiling.

“It’s nice to meet you, Lord Julian,” Geralt said. “I am Geralt of Rivia.”

“The pleasure’s all mine, Geralt, and please, call me Jaskier,” said the young man. He stuck out his hand. Geralt quickly shifted the gifts to one hand and shook. 

The hand was soft but not uncalloused, at the fingertips and base of the thumb. Long fingers, good for playing the lute that sat, gleaming and well cared for, in the corner.

“Jaskier,” Geralt said, tasting the name. It was a good name, bright and pretty and a deadly poison if treated incorrectly. “I have a gift for you, and her ladyship gave me a gift but I haven’t opened it yet.”

Jaskier rolled his eyes and sat on a plush chair, gesturing Geralt to one opposite. “I have my own gift for you,” he said. “Father and Amaria didn’t think I could get my own courting gifts.”

Geralt decided to give up on subtlety. He wanted answers and he hoped this young man, Jaskier, was willing to give them.

“They want rid of you,” he said. It was a question but without the inflection at the end. “Enough to marry you off to a witcher.”

Jaskier sighed. “Just father, Amaria doesn’t have much to do with anything these days.”

“She seemed...” Geralt trailed off, not wanting to be disrespectful.

“It’s all about heirs,” Jaskier said, standing and beginning to pace. “Suitable heirs, which I’m not.” He sent Geralt a bitter little smile and flopped back down. “My father is not a nice man, you see. He’s never taken kindly to disagreements, and to him there’s only one ‘right’ sort of man. Men like him, manly and strong who kill first and don’t bother asking questions later. I questioned him, maybe three years ago, I didn’t think he should raise taxes again. He doesn’t forgive that sort of slight.” 

Jaskier leaned forward, elbows on knees and stared at the ground for a second.

“I think he’d decided long before that, but he wants me struck from the family tree.” Jaskier looked up at Geralt. Some of his confusion must have been showing on his face.

This world of heirs and court intrigue was far from anything Geralt knew, and seemed more complicated than necessary.

“Follow me,” Jaskier said, rising and stretching out his hand again. “You can leave the gifts, we’ll be back.” Geralt set dow the gifts and hesitantly stretched out his hand, unsure if the gesture was figurative or if he was actually supposed to take it. Jaskier took him gently by the wrist and led him from the room.

“The halls are a maze,” he said, letting go a coridor later. “Follow close behind me, you could get lost.” Geralt did so. He couldn’t imagine anything more embarassing than having a footman fetch him from one of these little stone tunnels.

They emerged in yet another dusty hall, lined with tapestries. Jaskier stopped in between two, and in front of a large, painted wooden panel. It had a tree.

A family tree. 

“My father,” Jaskier said, tracing his finger along dusty, painted branches. “Finds it very important that the next Earl be his direct blood, and also his kind of man.” He looked at Geralt significantly. “That meant ridding himself of Amaria’s sons from her first marriage, by the laws of our country, he could have been heir. That also means getting rid of me.”

This explanation did not help Geralt’s bafflement. Jaskier sighed again, although he didn’t seem to be doing so at Geralt.

“Amaria had two sons, both manly and well suited to my father, but not his direct blood. And they were older than me, set to inherit the role of Earl first. They met with horrible accidents.” A shadow passed of Jaskier’s boyish face. 

“Strange coincidence, how a large rock managed to tumble from the ramparts on to Isak not even a week after the same thing happened to Tomas. Especially since there’s not rocks up there. I checked.”

“Your father,” Geralt said, a little numbly. “Had his stepson’s murdered.” He knew nobility could be nasty but still... “And we’ve made a deal with him.”

Jaskier patted him on the shoulder. “Don’t worry too much about it, Father mostly doesn’t do too much harm these days, and Filip, that’s my half brother, seems like he’ll turn out okay. Then again, he’s only seven.”

“Is he going to have you killed?” Geralt asked, knowing as he did that the Earl was trying, by way of marrying Jaskier to him.

“Not exactly. I don’t know if it’s because I’m blood or just because another ‘accident’ would look suspicious, but there’s an easier way.” Jaskier pointed to a name circled in blue. “That’s my aunt Matylda, father’s older sister. She got married, which officially makes her part of her husband’s family tree, not ours, and she can no longer inherit,” Jaskier paused. “If she weren’t already a woman, I mean.”

“But we’re both men,” Geralt said. “I could just as easily become part of your family tree and then your father’s problem.”

“Yes,” Jaskier said, “In theory, but of course that isn’t how he played it. I’ll be an honorary witcher, and my name,” here he tapped some fine script. “Will be circled in blue and removed from the line.”

They both looked at the tree, looming darkly for a while. 

“I’m sorry,” Geralt offered, although he supposed it wasn’t worth much.

“I’m sorry too,” Jaskier said. “You shouldn’t be roped into all this.”

Geralt privately considered that, yes, while he would have preferred to avoid all this intrigue and politics, Jaskier didn’t seem too bad.

Jaskier led him back through the stone rabbit warren that made up the bowels of the castle.

“Is her ladyship...like that, because of the death of her sons?” Geralt asked when they paused at the top of a staircase. 

Jaskier cocked his head sadly, and then continued walking. Aftr a few more paced he said, “Yes, mostly. She wasn’t always...present, I suppose before but when they died so close together, and in such an awful way-- there’s nothing nice about a block of stone dropping on you from four stories up--something broke. She’s a nice lady, just happier living in her head, I think. Maybe she goes somewhere else, where her boys and her first husband are alive, I hope.”

They arrived back at the study without another word. 

They sat.

“I, um.” Geralt said. “Hmmm. I got you,” he proferred the package, not knowing what to say and begging Jaskier to save him from trying to figure it out. 

Jaskier took the package and pulled the string so that it fell open. The doublet slithered out. Vesemir had sent a letter asking for measurements as soon as Geralt had told him the idea.

“It’s basilisk leather,” Geralt said. “Witchers, um, our Path, it can be dangerous, so you should have this.”

Jaskier held up the fabric, watching the colors, deep blue and green, shift across the slick material. Privately, and for no reason Geralt could really guess at, he was very pleased, both that the doublet was in what seemed to be Jaskier’s colors, and also at the awe struck look on his face.

“It’s as light as silk,” Jaskier said, passing the fabric between his fingers. “And you said it’s leather?”

“Basilisk leather,” Geralt said. Monsters. They were talking about monsters, which he knew about. Thank the gods. “It’s like armor, and it won’t burn or get wet, water just runs off.”

“I didn’t know there was such a thing as basilisk leather,” Jaskier said, holding the doublet up. “Where did you get it? It’s incredible.”

Geralt coughed modestly, and tried not to puff his chest. “I killed the basilisk. Making the leather needs different skills than normal tanning, it’s more like potion making.” He remembered that most people knew little about witcher skills and needs. “All witchers know some alchemy, and we make potions for combat so I...I tanned it. My brother Lambert drew up the design, I don’t know much about clothes.”

The tailor had nearly cried when they’d presented him with the fabric, exclaiming about it’s luster and the ‘glorious smooth hand’, whatever that meant. 

Geralt watched Jaskier’s face anxiously. It wasn’t a courtly gift, no crown of pearls or whatever nobles expected, but it had taken him two months to turn the basilisk skin into leather. It would have taken him half the time but he’d had to do it on the road. Lambert had fussed about the design for almost a week too, and it had been Eskel’s idea to ask for the buttons to be little black pearls like that.

Vesemir had smiled at the team effort, calling it the wolves gift to their new pup.

Jaskier looked up at him, face like a sunbeam. 

“Can I try it on?”

Geralt just nodded, and looked away modestly as Jaskier divested himself of his previous doublet before buttoning the basilisk leather.

He twirled, and in the light from the window the fabric seemed to glow, shifting and turning with each movement. 

“And it really will keep me safe?” he asked, looking down at himself, beaming. 

Geralt nodded. “It would take a battle axe a dozen tries to pierce it.”

Jaskier smiled at him again, and it made Geralt’s stomach tingle, although he had eaten some suspect meat on the ride to Lettenhove. Then Jaskier threw his arms around his neck.

Geralt wasn’t old fashioned. He could move with the times, whatever Lambert said, but manners had been stiffer sixty years ago and Geralt was just thankful that Jaskier wouldn’t be able to see the tips of his ears going red.

“It’s beautiful,” Jaskier said, pulling back. “Thank you.”

Geralt shrugged uncomfortably. Jaskier smelled like soap and some sort of oil. Linseed maybe, probably for the wood of his lute.

“I have a gift for you, it’s not as lovely, but I hope you like it.”

Geralt carefully took the package. It was wrapped much prettier than his had been. “The countess already...”

“That was from her,” Jaskier said dismissively. “And maybe even from Father, although I doubt it, he wouldn’t waste money on me. But this gift is from me.” He sat forward eagerly. “Go on, open it.”

Geralt wasn’t about to refuse that eager, open expression, so he pulled at the ribbon, feeling rather like a bear trying to tie a shoelace.

The bright paper just fell away and there was a stiff paper box. He opened that too. 

Three glass bottles sat inside, nestled in paper. The paper was only there to keep them from clinking because as he pulled one out he saw the telltale dark sheen.

Brimstone glass. It was unbreakable. Sometimes witchers carried their more noxious potions in it but rarely, it was frighteningly expensive, usually only mages could afford it.

“How?” he said. How did you afford it? How did you know it existed? Did you know witchers use potions? He looked up at Jaskier, who looked nervous.

“Are they alright?” he said. “Only I won them off a sorceror in a pub. He told me they were indestructible and threw one at the ground to prove it. I thought they’d be useful...Was it a trick?” He looked so upset at the prospect.

“These, Geralt said, “Are Brimstone Glass, they are indeed indestructible and very, very useful.” Jaskier’s face split into a grin again. 

“Thank you,” Geralt said. It didn’t seem like enough, but if he hugged the lad like Jaskier had him he would kill him.

“Should I open the box from the countess?”

“Do,” Jaskier said. “I want to know what it is.”

The latch flicked easily under Geralt’s hand and the lid popped open.

Jaskier gasped.

“It’s my mother’s ring,” he said. “I don’t remember her well, but I remember her hands...”

It was a beautiful ring, opal, if Geralt was any judge, but Eskel knew stones better than him. Silver wound around the stone, with smaller gems studding the setting to either side. 

“I will use it in the ceremony,” Geralt said, offering it to Jaskier. “If it fits.”

“It won’t fit,” Jaskier said sadly. “Mother had very small hands, but it’s a nice thought.”

Geralt looked at the ring and Jaskier’s left hand. “Try it?”

Jaskier did, sliding the ring onto his finger easily. He looked at it in amazement.

“Amaria must have had it enlarged,” he said.

“A good gift,” Geralt said, although not sure who the gift was really for.

There came a polite knock at the door, interupting the moment, whatever sort of moment it was.

“My lord, it is time for supper.”

Damn. 

Jaskier slipped the ring back into the box and Geralt looked away as he changed into his regular doublet. He didn’t look away fast enough and caught a scandalous glimpse of collarbone and soft chest hair where the chemise got pulled down a little. The air felt a little stuffy suddenly.

The gifts, and Geralt was proud to see that Jaskier folded the doublet carefully back into the paper, although nothing could have harmed it, were handed to a footman to be taken back to their respective rooms.Geralt offered Jaskier his arm, like he’d seen the nobility do, and then Jaskier led him to the dining hall.

To his relief, the hall wasn’t packed. They were what Lambert would call ‘fashionably late’ (and what Vesemir would call a reason for three extra laps) and all the guests were seated. A table held Lady Amaria and a man who must be the Earl, although there was little visible resemblance to Jaskier. They were seated with perhap half a dozen other nobles, as well as a red headed boy of about seven, Filip, probably, who looked like he’d rather be anywhere else. There was another table of presumably more minor nobility, and then a small table with the wolves, two seats still empty.

All eyes turned to look at the pair. Jaskier bowed deeply, and since his arm was still linked with Geralt’s he was made to bow too, or else risk having his arm pulled from its socket. Then they made their way to the smallest table.

Geralt pulled out Jaskier’s chair for him and saw Vesemir’s approving nod, as well as Lambert’s smirk. He didn’t see the swift kick Eskel delivered below the table, but caught the way Lambert’s eyes watered suddenly, and smiled at his brother in thanks for the retribution. Then he sat.

“Julian,” Vesemir said, reaching over the table to shake hands. “I am Vesemir, Geralt’s teacher. It is a pleasure to meet you.” 

“I am happy to make your aquaintance, Master Vesemir,” Jaskier said, and Geralt was impressed that he only winced a little bit as Vesemir inadvertently crushed his knuckles in a grip that could moor a boat. He did, however, gently shake out his fingers under the table once he’d been released.

“If you please, however,” Jaskier continued as if nothing had happened. “I prefer my nickname, Jaskier.”

“Jaskier it is, then,” Vesemir said, moustache twitching up at the corners. Geralt suspected he was thinking the same as he had done. Buttercups, pretty and poisonous.

“You were educated at Oxenfurt, is that correct?” Eskel said.

“Yes, in the fine arts, although I specialized in music composition and lute performance. I didn’t catch your name...?” The most delicate question mark was added to the end of the statement. Eskel blushed, Jaskier wouldn’t know it, but Geralt could see the back of his neck reddening.

“Eskel,” he said quickly. “And the asshole who’s snickering is Lambert.”

Jaskier didn’t look even a little intimidated by either of Geralt’s brothers, which was impressive, because Lambert could scowl like it was a contest and Eskel, although only an inch taller than Geralt, was naturally hugely muscled in a way even the mutagens hadn’t managed for Geralt. His chest and arms looked like they’d withstand a siege weapon.

Jaskier turned a smile on Lambert, who was sputtering indignantly at Eskel’s entirely fair description.

“I’m told you helped with my beautiful courting gift,” he said. Then he turned the smile on all of the wolves. “A team effort I imagine.” 

This stunned all three brothers, and made Vesemir smile. Lambert shrugged uncomfortably. For all his prickliness, he couldn’t take a compliment. 

“Eskel’s idea for the buttons,” he muttered, and Geralt knew he’d been entirely won over.

“The buttons are beautiful,” Jaskier said, smiling warmly at Eskel now, who looked like he’d rather be facing a mountain troll. 

“Was Vesemir that got your measurements,” he said, looking down at the tablecloth. Jaskier beamed at the whole table then.

“Truly a team effort, thank you all, it’s beautiful and I cannot wait to wear it.” With that the whole table was well and truly won over by Jaskier. Geralt couldn’t help but brag a little.

“Jaskier gave me Brimstone Glass bottles as a courting gift,” he said, and preened slightly under the others’ slightly jealous noises of amazement. Jaskier flushed a very pretty pink. 

“I just thought they’d be useful,” he said, although his smile was pleased.

Serving girls entered the hall with trays and the chatter in the hall expanded excitedly. A plump young woman set a tray down at their table and Eskel hummed in appreciation.

“It smells delicious,” he said. She smiled at him, looked him up and down, and then winked.

“Oh doesn’t it just, I could just eat it all up,” she said, not looking at the food even as she lifted the cloche from the appetizers. Then she winked and disappeared back into the kitchen. Another girl appeared and filled the goblets but the witchers hardly noticed for laughing at Eskel’s face.

“Seems Mabel took a liking to you,” Jaskier said, wiping tears of mirth from his eyes. Through his own laughter, Geralt watched Jaskier’s father glaring at their table. Good. The old fuck could choke on it, he didn’t look like he’d ever laughed a day in his life. 

“Careful though,” Jaskier was saying. “She looked ready to take a bite out of you.”

“But,” Eskel gestured, baffled to his face.

“Oh pish,” Jaskier said, taking a swig of wine. “Nobody cares about that sort of thing, do they? Plenty of ladies around here like a few scars, makes men look rugged and dangerous.”

“Rugged?” Eskel rubbed his hand over his face, contemplating. 

“Definitely,” said Jaskier, nodding. He took one of the appetizers. Geralt moved a few to his own plate and slowly their little table descended into a quiet contentment. The appetizers were good, hors d'oeuvres , Geralt remembered Lambert telling him once. They were little bits of paste, meat and vegetable mostly, inside pastry casings.

He smiled when he noticed that he and his brothers were all looking between Jaskier and Vesemir to make sure they hadn’t missed any manners. Eskel swiped Lambert’s elbows off the table.

Eventually the appetizers were replaced with soup. The saucy kitchen girl, Mabel, Jaskier had called her, made a positively salacious remark to Eskel. Something daring about him licking everything clean. Eskel smiled faintly and turned redder than the beet soup.

“You should flirt back,” Jaskier said, once Mabel was gone. “If you’re actually interested, I mean.”

“It’s not that I’m not. Interested I mean,” Eskel squeaked. “But I can’t offer her anything, no marriage or security.”

Jaskier looked at him. It was definitely a look, although not a nasty one. “She asked you to lick her clean and you think that was an invitation to marriage?”

“I wouldn’t want to defile...”

“Oh shut up Eskel, sex doesn’t defile anything. It’s natural and normal and if you think it some how ‘decreases the value’ of a woman than you aren’t the man I thought you to be.” Lambert cut in. “Have some fun, maybe she can remove the stick you’ve lodged up your ass.”

“You’re right, of course,” Eskel said. But now Jaskier was looking worried.

“It won’t be a problem, right?” he asked Geralt. “That I’m not, um a virgin, I mean?”

“No,” Geralt said, probably missing the mark on reassuring, but doing his best. “Unless you mind that I’m not one either. And there is no fidelity clause, and no consummation, you needn’t sleep with me, and you’re free to see other people.”

Jaskier looked at first relieved and then impish, licking the soup from his spoon in a way that made significant parts of Geralt’s brain go numb. “I dunno,” he said, leaning towards Geralt and bumping him with a shoulder. “I can’t imagine consumation with you would be such a chore.”

Melitele’s great gauzy veil, this boy would be the death of him.

There was a pause between soup and the main course, but when Mabel picked up the dishes Eskel leaned towards her and asked if he’d licked it clean enough, to the woman’s obvious approval.

They sat and chatted, Jaskier, Eskel, and Vesemir debated over some old literature that Geralt had never heard of, and then they were interuppted with a cough.

The earl stood, face like stone, beside their table. 

They rose. Vesemir bowed.

“My Lord,” he said. “It is a pleasure to make your aquaintance. I am Vesemir, of the school of the wolf.”

Lord Pankratz inclined his head. “Greetings, Master Vesemir,” he said. “I wish to discuss some of the terms of the contract with you.”

He snapped his fingers and a footman brought him a chair, without waiting for Vesemir’s response.

The wolves sat, feeling wary. Jaskier was looking down at his hands, shoulders shrunk in.

They sat in suspense as Vesemir and Lord Pankratz hashed out details of the legal protections. The main course appeared and the earl stood, and bowed.

“Why don’t we continue this after desert,” he said, smiling smoothly. And it was a very smooth smile. Like an oil slick.

Dinner after that was subdued, despite Eskel returning Mabel’s flirtations. Jaskier looked down at his plate most of the time and the witchers picked up on his unease.

“What’s wrong, Jaskier?” Geralt whispered.

“I don’t know, but he’s planning something, and I don’t like it.”

Then coffee was served after dessert, and the Earl de Lettenhove sat at their table again. 

“Now, for what I really wanted to discuss, I know political marriages can be...challenging,” the earl said in a voice like a snake. “But I wanted to make it clear, should either member express a wish to anul the marriage, the contract will become void.” Here he squeezed Jaskier’s shoulder so hard he winced. “I couldn’t bear for my dear Julian to be unhappy, you see. He’s high maintainance I know, but I wish him the best.”

The earl smiled a despicable little smile. “Now, I think you two shouldn’t really see more of each other before the wedding, yes? Bad luck and all.”

The earl then hauled Jaskier away by his collar.

“What a cunt,” Lambert said.

“I figured that was in the contract anyway,” Geralt said. “Isn’t that normally how it works?”

Vesemir nodded. “Indeed, it’s how these marriages go. But I expect the earl is betting that the two of you wont be able to stand eachother, and so he gets rid of his son and doesn’t have to help witchers all in one go.”

“Yes, Jaskier explained things.”

And then Geralt told his family what Jaskier had told him. The suspicious accidents, the laws, the family tree.

“I agree with Lambert,” Eskel said. “What a gigantic fucking cunt.”

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What’s with my thing about clothing descriptions and fancy cloth? I’m a fashion design major, that’s what. 

We’ve got answers about Amaria, and the reason for the engagement, but what’s the wedding going to be like? oooh, cliffhanger, but not too much so I hope it makes up for last time when I was so bad to you all.

Tag List!  @llamasdumpsterfire @stinastar @aziz-the-fangirl @mordoriscalling @bastardofmothman @negativenuggetz @morte-mistrata  @hayleynzlive @filledepluie @bygodstillam@sociowithatardisachevyandawand @faery-god @honeysuckletook @theflurtifly @saibowtie @werevampiwolf @frywen-babbles @the-kewlest@innocentbi-stander @1stbonesfan @aqueenrisesintheeast  @marauders-fan-account @ineffable-lasagna 

@ailorian @toothhurtyam I’m having trouble adding you, I can’t tag if this is a password protected side blog or if you have Allow Blog to Appear in Search Results off, I think. 

[soulmate-game]

“Are you paw-sitive this is alright?” Selina half-purred half-asked. The slender cat thief was dressed casually— for her, anyway— in a floor length amethyst purple gown that swept just barely above the floor, accentuating her curves and coming down in a deep V neck that was just barely within the constraints of being acceptable for public appearances. Her companion, almost half a foot shorter even in her short heels, was a stark contrast. It was as if all the two women had in common was their hair color, a rich deep black that shimmered blue in the right lighting.

Marinette, with her hair done up in two buns and wearing a sensible pink-and-white cheongsam top with apple blossom embroidery paired with an ankle-length denim skirt that had a knee-high slit in the front, nodded even as she eyed her friend’s choice of outfit with a small frown.

“Of course. Bruce is in the media’s eye all the time, and he knows I don’t have a care for the spotlight. But you do,” Marinette stopped talking for a second, snapping her fingers and reaching into her purse. She pulled out a gorgeous inch-thick collar necklace that was made entirely of thick panels of flawless silver and high-quality diamond. At the very center of the collar necklace, where it would hang right in the center of Selina’s collarbone, was a diamond-and-obsidian cat face. “I knew I was forgetting something! Bourgeois owed me a favor for doing the outfit for her last magazine cover pro bono, so I asked for this as payment. It’s exactly what your outfit is missing.”

Just because Marinette didn’t like revealing clothing didn’t mean she couldn’t appreciate someone else wearing one well, after all. And Selina wore her dress perfectly.

Selina quirked an eyebrow, eyeing the necklace with her expert gaze. Gently, she trailed her fingertips over the tops of the diamonds in the thick bands of the collar as a small smile flicked over her lips. She raised her eyes up to Marinette’s, light green eyes sparkling with mischief and knowing.

“You got this as a bribe for me, didn’t you kitten?”

Marinette smiled unashamedly. “I know you’re a proud lesbian, but would you mind playing the role of Bruce’s girlfriend, just for the media? And only while you’re single, of course. If you ever want out, you only have to say the word. Bruce already agreed, but he also doesn’t mind continuing to play the careless bachelor if you aren’t willing.”

Selina scoffed, rolling her eyes and grabbing the necklace. Effortlessly, she swung it around her neck and clasped it in place. “Please, darling. You and I both know it drives you up a wall when Brucie is hounded by gold diggers every time he steps foot out of that mansion of his. I’ll play the camera-girlfriend, but only for a maximum of a year. And you two can only call on me one a week at most, a girl’s gotta have some time to herself.”

Marinette nodded eagerly. “That’s fine! We probably won’t even call on you that much, Bruce is planning to play the ‘we want to keep our relationship pretty low-key’ card for now. Just an appearance once a month or two ought to satisfy those vampiric paparazzi.”

Selina just smiled. She had practically adopted Marinette years previous, during a trip to Paris where she had found out she apparently had a male doppelgänger. Now the two were sisters in all but official (Not-forged) legal documents. And because of that, Bruce had somehow become her brother.

Which Bruce later found out, meant that Selina would relentlessly tease him every time she needed to appear as his “girlfriend.”

Relentlessly.

But Marinette and Bruce had a Plan. She wasn’t quite ready to make a public appearance as his real girlfriend, mostly because of loose ends that still had to be tied back in France. She was making so many trips back and forth between the two countries that they couldn’t see each other in person much to begin with, so they also didn’t want their few in-person meetings tainted by greedy D-rate journalists.

But yes, they had a Plan. One year was the perfect time frame for the last stretch of said plan. Marinette would tie up the last few things she had to do in Paris, start an official branch of her fashion company in Gotham, and they would stage an entire break-up with Selina, a three-month “break” to “recover” and then a suitably dramatic, romantic “meet-cute” between the two of them to start what the media would see as a love-at-first-sight, fairytale relationship.

Nobody needed to know about Marinette and Bruce’s five-year pining session, or their one-year fumble through figuring out how to date one another before actually getting it right, or the most recent three-years of dealing with the fact that they were both highly experienced hero/vigilantes, the leaders of their own hero teams, and highly accomplished business people.

It was a hard relationship utterly riddled with drama, but they had finally reached the stable point where they were ready to commit. Sort of. They just needed Selina to fake-date Bruce in the public eye for a couple months, and then everything would be fine.

—*—*—*—*—*

One year and three months later.

Marinette shifted her purse on her shoulder. This would be her first time in over five years actually setting foot inside the Wayne Manor. She was excited to see Alfred again, and to hash out the last details for her and Bruce’s public “meet-cute.” But Alfred didn’t open the door this time, a short green-eyed boy with an all-too-familiar frown on his face did.

And once again, Marinette knew that Selina was not the mother. Her pseudo-sister was, as she had said so long ago, a very proud lesbian. But Marinette did know of a past fling of Bruce’s who did possess the proper genes to help create a child of this age.

Marinette smiled, pushing her inner rage at the thought of Talia Al Ghul out of her mind. She was still pissed beyond all rational thought when she heard about what Talia had done to Bruce. But this child was not at fault for any of it, only an innocent by-product.

“Hello. My name is Marinette Dupain-Cheng. Would you mind telling Alfred I’m here?”

“Tt. Why should I?” The apparently bratty boy asked, crossing his arms and glaring straight at her. Marinette felt her eye twitch.

“I am a close friend of Bruce— Would I be correct in assuming he’s your biological father?” Immediately upon her question, the boy’s eyes widened ever so slightly in shock before his glare intensified. Marinette chuckled. “He didn’t tell me that he adopted any new children, and he always tells me when he adopts. Which means he didn’t have to adopt you, suggesting you are related to him directly. You can’t be a cousin or nephew, he has no living blood family. And all his pseudo-siblings are alive and fine, so you weren’t left to his care in anybody’s will,” she deduced out loud for him. “Plus, the green eyes and tan skin— I know of exactly one of Bruce’s past… suitors… who happens to fit the timeframe and features necessary.”

The boy raised an eyebrow. “Most assume that I am that harlot Selina Kyle’s spawn,” he snapped, but it lacked the same heat this time around. He was now analyzing her face closely, and Marinette noticed. She was careful to keep her eagerness toned down. She really just wanted to see Bruce and be able to hug and cuddle him for the first time in almost a year, and this child was her only obstacle at the moment. A very stubborn one.

Marinette sighed. “Selina is like a sibling to me, don’t call her a harlot. If Selina was ever pregnant, I would have known. Hell, Selina would have given me her baby to raise because she doesn’t have any interest in being a mother. Now, the polite thing to do when someone introduces themselves is so introduce yourself back. Not interrogate or intimidate them.”

The boy huffed, straightening his emerald turtleneck and rolling his shoulders back. “I am Damian Wayne,” he replied imperiously. “And Father has never mentioned a friend by the name Marinette. Which leads me to believe you are yet another no good hopeful suitor, and Father is still recovering after he and Kyle finally split up for good.”

Marinette froze, and slowly her eyes narrowed. “He never mentioned my name? Ever?”

“Tt. I already said no.”

Finally, the shape of Alfred Pennyworth came into view behind Damian. He had obviously heard the last bit of the conversation, because he just sighed and shared a long suffering look with Marinette. It was that look that made Marinette’s eye twitch a second time.

“Alfred,” she said slowly. “Has he mentioned me at all to any of his kids?”

“He has not,” Alfred replied. “And furthermore, Miss Selina would not stop giving him a hard time whenever he had to call her out for an appearance. It seems all of the children mistook their relationship for actually being of a romantic nature.”

Damian spun to the butler, eyes wide and swimming with a multitude of emotions. “What do you mean, ‘actually’, Alfred?”

“He means,” Marinette began before Alfred had the chance. Her eyes were narrowed, matching storms of dark, furious blue. “That Selina was only pretending to be Bruce’s girlfriend so that the press and gold-diggers would leave him alone. And apparently I need to beat some sense into my stupid, idiotic boyfriend, who I should have known would do something like this,” she looked up at Alfred, jaw clenching. “That man would never be able to pass for a functioning human without either you or me keeping his head screwed on. Where is he?”

“Not at the manor currently, Mademoiselle Marinette.”

“Alfred.”

The butler gave Marinette a rather mischievous little grin. “Master Bruce has forbade me from telling you where he is currently, he wanted you to stay at the manor and sleep the jet lag off until he got back. But I can tell you that he is not currently on Earth or on a mission.”

“Alfred!” Damian hissed, shocked that the man would say something so revealing. Alfred was the perfect secret keeper, why would he tell someone Bruce had never mentioned something so telling?”

“Oh, calm yourself Master Damian,” Alfred soothed. “Marinette has known about Master Bruce’s nighttime activities since before you were born. If anything, I believe he rightfully deserves the wake up call he is about to receive.”

Marinette nodded, eyes still stormy and determined. “Alright, so he’s at the Watchtower. The Zeta tunes are still in the Batcave, right?” When Alfred nodded, Marinette wasted no time. She easily slid around Damian and stormed into the manor, finding her way to the Batcave on pure muscle memory and rage.

“Wait, Alfred! I demand an explanation!” Damian’s loud voice slowly grew quieter as Marinette stormed down into the cave, ignoring how Alfred began to calmly explain the situation to the boy. She just slid right in to the Zeta tube, and commanded the computer to send her to the Watchtower.

“P-001, codename LADYBUG, recognized.”

—*—*—*—*—*

Batman pinched his nose from where he stood at the head of the meeting room in the watchtower. The briefing was supposed to start over an hour ago, but Hal Jordan had been twenty minutes late. No surprise there. But still, SuperMan had insisted that they wait until everyone arrived. And really, normally Batman would too. Except that his long time girlfriend was going to be landing in Gotham any minute now, and he would rather be back at the manor to greet her.

And the asinine argument that had been going on for the past forty minutes was finally going to end, even if Bruce had to hogtie every last one of his insufferable coworkers himself and force them through the rest of the meeting strapped to their chairs.

“Okay, can we PLEASE begin the meeting now, or so help me I will break out my kryptonite restraints,” he threatened darkly. He might have only mentioned Kryptonite, but everyone knew that that threat was actually aimed at all of them. Batman knew every last one of their weaknesses and was not above being petty when they strained his last nerve.

Quickly getting the hint, the entire room rushed to fill their seats and at least fake at paying attention. But of course, nothing goes quite right in the life of Bruce Wayne. Right as he turned on the slideshow he had prepared and began the meeting, the sound of an enraged woman’s voice echoed down the hallway in a deafening roar.

“BRUCE THOMAS WAYNE, YOU ARE IN SOOOO MUCH TROUBLE!”

Batman felt as if someone had just shoved him into a cryogenic freezer, a harsh shiver of dread running down his spine. There was exactly one person who could terrify him with a single word, and it just so happened to be the woman he was hiding a wedding ring from.

For the past eight years, but that’s neither here nor there.

“Oh shit,” Bruce breathed, but found he was unable to move from his spot. Yes, he wanted to see Marinette so badly that it hurt. But he also would like to stay alive.

SuperMan leaned forward, not really concerned since Batman would have reacted much differently had the voice been coming from a real threat. Instead, the man leveled his old friend with a very teasing smirk.

“Why is your heart suddenly racing?”

Bruce could only glare daggers at Clark before the door to the meeting room swung open, a tiny French woman standing there in a long, formal white-and-pink knee-length gown with a cheongsam neckline and one of her leaf-green heels held in each hand threateningly.

“You absolute idiot! When I said I wanted to keep our relationship out of the public eye, I didn’t mean to keep me a secret from EVERYBODY!”

“But darling—“ Bruce cut himself off as he was forced to dodge one deadly-accurate piece of flying footwear. “You don’t understand. The boys cannot keep a secret to save their life.”

“They have secret identities, don’t they?” She slipped her other shoe back on. She had known that her shoe never had a chance of hitting, and with Bruce in full Batman gear, even if it had hit him the high heel would have felt like she had only thrown a pillow. Had it been otherwise, she wouldn’t have even joked about throwing her shoes at him. But as it stood, she knew none of the normal things she had on her would be able to so much as make Bruce say “ow.”

Marinette placed both of her fists on her hips, marching up to Batman and pulling him down the full foot it took for him to be able to look her in the eye. His resulting gulp was clearly audible, and visible, to everyone else in the room. “You absolute, emotionally dense moron,” her voice had dropped from a yell to a mildly fond, but still very annoyed, grumble. “Your kids are mostly adults now, you know. And you never told me about Damian either. Did you honestly think I’d be mad?” Bruce looked away from her, which was honestly all the answer she needed. Marinette sighed, letting him go and softening her voice. “You need to trust your kids more, Bruce. I never wanted you to keep me a secret from your family, or even your close friends. Just the annoying ass paparazzi. And trust me a little bit more, yeah? I know it isn’t exactly your strong suit, but I’ve known you long enough that you should know I’m not gonna run for the hills just because you have a biological kid that wasn’t with me.” Marinette risked giving him a slightly vulnerable, lopsided smile. And Bruce immediately deciphered what it meant. His shoulders slumped.

The cost of using the Ladybug Miraculous for so long was that Marinette had to give up her fertility. She could never have children of her own, and Bruce had felt guilty that he had had a biological child, even though he hadn’t exactly consented to it, without her. But now he could see where he went wrong.

Marinette was just happy to have another piece of him to take care of. She never would have resented him for what had happened with Talia. And, seeing all of those facts written on her face now, he felt more than a little blind.

“... sorry.”

Marinette just huffed out a short, soft laugh before grabbing Bruce by the bicep. She turned to look at the other heroes still in the room, half of them uncomfortable with seeing such an emotional display while the others looked like they were incredibly invested in a good soap opera. She shot them a grin.

“I’m stealing him for the next few days, okay? Don’t worry, I’m sure you can make do with making Diana read the slideshow. I know from experience that it has everything you guys need to know and more. Don’t call us, I’ll field all your contact to Agent A!!” With that, she dragged Bruce by the arm out of the room.

To be fair, he wasn’t exactly resisting. Even if the reunion was far from ideal, just having this little bit of contact was extremely relaxing for the vigilante. When they reached the Zeta Tubes, he stopped Marinette and pulled her in for a kiss.

When they inevitably pulled away for breath, he smiled at her. “As soon as we get back, I’ll call everyone in and explain the situation,” he promised. “And then, we can spend the rest of the night doing whatever you want.”

Marinette smiled back, shoving him into the Zeta Tube. “Then get ready, because I wanna sleep off this damn jet lag and I plan on cuddling you like a koala the whole time. No escape.”

“B-001, Codename BATMAN. Recognized.”

“Can’t wait,” he replied right before he was whisked off. The sound of the love of his life laughing followed him through until he reached the other end of the teleportation.

—*—*—*—*—*

@maribat-writing-and-prompts

[daisyachain]

hi!! i've been reading through your ao no flag liveblogs lately and they're really interesting! i enjoy seeing someone so passionate about this manga and it makes me want to reread it .... i'm really interested in hearing what you have to say about masumi's ending though!! part of me thinks it makes sense but i'm mostly conflicted on it and would love to see it from your perspective ^^

haha well thank you! ah yes, the arc that created as much controversy as you can get in an active readership of like 10 people...

Blue Flag is an imperfect story, but it also gets a lot of flack for things that a) didn't...actually...happen, b) didn't happen in the way people think they did.

Part 1: Is it actually straightwashing?

The most common criticism I see of Masumi's ending is that she was written as a lesbian character and straightwashed at the end. Marrying off a female character as a way to 'fix' her issues is a common and harmful trope, and saying that lesbian women just need to get a man is a widespread homophobic trope and talking point. So, it's not a good look. To have a character angst over interest in a woman and end up happily married to a guy reads like a '50s pulp novel that just uses f/f attraction for marketing.

But, if the intention of the ending was to show that Masumi should give up on women and force herself to date men, then it doesn't. Mitsuyuki's description of her is 'look at my bisexual wife who has dated both women and men and could also have married a woman', which is an odd choice if the intention was straightwashing. It feels more like a clumsy way to make sure that, in a series full of ambiguity, there could be no argument that Masumi was queer. That isn't to say that cisstraight people don't view bisexuality as less/better than/straighter than her being lesbian and that making a previously gay character bisexual isn't still straightwashing (increasing the appearance of straightness).

Part 2: Was it actually a retcon?

So: Masumi's ending reaffirms that she's a WLW. One question is, was she always meant to be bisexual, or was she originally written as lesbian?

Blue Flag doesn't have a lot of straight (no pun intended) answers. Taichi never expresses any explicit attraction to guys, but there is enough subtext to suggest he's attracted to Touma well before the finale. Futaba believes she is attracted to Touma at first and is shown to be attracted to him using the visual shorthand of manga (blushing, etc.), but she later says that it was just misinterpreted admiration. Mami doesn't want to date Touma or any man, but she implies that she is attracted to Touma when she says around him she was 'glad to be a woman.' Within the main romance, Futaba says that it was specifically because Taichi was a friend to her that she grew to like-like him. The lines between friendship and romance are blurred in Blue Flag, and sometimes romance can only grow out of friendship.

Masumi has a tense conversation with Taichi in the first half after she breaks up with her boyfriend that most people (me included) read as her saying that she tried guys and she just isn't and can't be attracted to them. However, it's Blue Flag, so the conversation is unfocused and doesn't paint a complete picture.

"Even if I get a boyfriend, I can never make it work"/"I don't know why [I don't like him anymore]" seem to imply that Masumi realized that she was feeling compulsory heterosexuality and that she will never like men. "[I don't know] why he like someone like me"/"You can be friends with potential sexual partners? With both guys and girls?"/"I just wanted to hear how you men feel about [a girl liking other girls]" seem to imply that Masumi is bisexual and is afraid to date because someone might find out. Maybe she's written as questioning--she knows she likes Futaba, but she's feeling out other possibilities. It's Blue Flag, so it's unclear.

Part 3: How does it work with Masumi's arc?

Diving further into Masumi's story, she acts as a foil to Touma (and Futaba, see later). Touma feels free to show his affection for Taichi as a friend as well as a love interest and almost confesses to him of his own free will, well before he's forced to. Touma tells her that he intends to try and set Taichi up with Futaba (because they would be good for each other), and also that he intends to pursue Taichi in some way. He tells her he's "not like [her]."

For Masumi's part, she tells Touma that she wants to express more affection for Futaba--not necessarily in a romantic way, just to participate more fully in that relationship--but she's afraid to, she doesn't feel confident enough to try, and that she's "the worst" because of it. We see this theme repeated, that Masumi is pessimistic, is afraid to trust people and hates herself for being afraid. Her conversations with Aki and Mami explore this; Aki tells her that it's not bad to be insecure or unready and that it's fine to keep a secret/stay closeted until she's ready, Mami tells her that she does have people she can trust, who care about her and who will do their best to understand her and help out. Why am I typing all this out? Because Masumi is a bitter, insecure wlw and that is an Established Trope, but her twist on it is that her negativity or bitterness isn't over her attraction to women/to Futaba or even over the reaction she might get from others (as Touma's is), it's over her own insecurity. Like Futaba, she's hesitant to act on her feelings, and like Futaba, she gets frustrated and hates herself for her own inaction.

All that is to say--Masumi is never shown to have a problem with her attraction to women. Her angst isn't gayngst, she's not ashamed of her feelings for Futaba bur rather her inability to express them. Her problems are with social attitudes and more with her own personal feelings--she and Touma face similar problems, but Touma is simply aware of the consequences (being roughed up and ostracised by a certain group of people) while Masumi feels a more generalized and ambiguous fear.

If Masumi were shown to have mixed feelings about her queerness/were shown to be in denial/were shown to be trying to move on from Futaba, then her ending would read more as straightwashing. As it is, there's nothing in her character and arc to say that she'd ever want to erase that part of herself or get rid of it, rather, she wishes she could embrace it but she just doesn't feel confident in doing it. Her ending shows her as an openly bisexual woman who is out to her friends and husband at the very least, which is a completion of her arc in the manga (of learning to trust other people and express her feelings honestly).

Part 4: What context clues does the rest of the series give us?

This is branching off a little from the strict text of Parts 1-3. As I've said, as we know, Blue Flag is 50% subtext and interpretation. Characters speak, but they don't say what they mean, characters think, but they're not always honest with themselves or in tune with reality. Mami is an ominous and antagonistic figure in the first half, but then it just turns out that Taichi was jumping to conclusions. Taichi is the main character and narrator, but we get radio silence from him for like 7 chapters after the climax. Taichi is bisexual, but the reader has to guess that from the way the art style shifts between PoVs, the similar panelling between Futaba and Touma's confessions, the things he does and does not think about Touma and how he feels about them. It's safe to say that there is room for speculation.

First, there is no explicit evidence that Taichi could be bisexual before ch 54. It's easy to tell that he is, but again, there's nothing specific. Some people reading Blue Flag have said that him marrying Touma was out of character, unforeshadowed, bizarre, inexplicable, etc. because their experienced is coloured by their own heterosexuality. Masumi is shown to have dated a guy and in saying she didn't like him "anymore," implied that she did like him. Her conflicted feelings over her bf could well have been foreshadowing her liking men as well, and my reading that as comphet could have just been my own experience colouring the text. Who knows! Taichi's bisexuality was intentional from the start but could be read as a last-minute twist, so why not Masumi's?

Second, Mitsuyuki is Futaba 2.0. Same colouring, same personality. This could feel like a way of saying "Masumi just needs to like guys instead," but to me it reads deeper with some of the trans subtext around Futaba. One of my issues with Blue Flag is that it doesn't go further into Futaba's admiration/envy for masculinity and her uncomfortable relationship with femininity. As a cis woman who wants to be buff and mildly masculine, I can understand why she's a cis girl throughout and I don't necessarily think that she was supposed to be a trans guy. However, her relationship with masculinity draws a parallel to Mitsuyuki. Reading Mitsuyuki as a cis man, he is the combination of Futaba's personality and looks with her 'ideal form.' So, Masumi marrying Mitsuyuki can read as Masumi marring Ascended FutabaTM.

Third, Futaba having a faceless prop husband is interesting in the context of Mitsuyuki getting a name and personality. Mitsuyuki = Futaba and Mr. Kuze is a blank space, so the reader is prompted to reduce the scenario and slot Masumi into that blank space. Given Masumi and Touma's history as foils, I'm inclined to think that Mitsuyuki exists to show the road not taken. Back at the fireworks, Touma tells Masumi that he hasn't given up on Taichi, and Masumi says she doesn't intend to pursue Futaba even though the pining is making her miserable. Given that Futaba reacts a lot better to the idea of Masumi liking her than Taichi reacts to the idea of Touma liking him, given that we see Masumi has successfully wooed male!Futaba, I think that Masumi's ending shows that she could have ended up with Futaba if she chose to pursue her. She didn't and she still got a happy ending where she is confident in her sexuality and unafraid to trust, but she could have also had a happy ending where she married Futaba. Mitsuyuki is a man because desire-for-masculinity is a key aspect of Futaba's character, and Mitsuyuki is a named character with a personality because KAITO wanted the reader to know that Masumi could have ended up with Futaba (as Touma ended up with Taichi).

Fourth, KAITO's notes on volume give us a few hints. He comments that there was remarkably little interference with his story and that he was able to tell it as he wanted, and that the ending was meant to be a "question" to the reader. The way I see it, Masumi's ending wasn't meant to say "maybe you'll be fixed if you get a man" but rather was meant to complement Taichi's ending and say "things happen in ways you might not expect, but that doesn't mean they're bad."

Fifth, Touma/Taichi ending up together shows us that the series is willing and able to show queerness as a good thing and a happy ending, so it's unlikely that Masumi was meant to come off as "actually she just needed a man" and more as "life can be unpredictable but you can always find happiness"

Summary

It's unclear whether Masumi was written as a bisexual woman or a lesbian woman or a questioning wlw

I personally read her as a lesbian and I wish that part of her character had gotten more exploration

Masumi's ending wraps up her arc (struggling to trust other people with her feelings in general and her queerness in particular) in a satisfying and logical way

Masumi being bisexual does not in any way negate or lessen her identity and experienes as a wlw, bisexual people still face external and internalized homophobia and all the associated issues

Masumi's bisexuality may well have been foreshadowed, but the execution makes it easier to read her as a lesbian, which makes her ending seem like a homophobic cop-out in the style of the Hays Code

Masumi's ending doesn't straightwash her and goes to unusual lengths to affirm her attraction to women

Masumi's ending seems to be written to contrast Touma's ending, showing that getting or not getting the love interest depends entirely on whether you choose to pursue them

It's unlikely that authorial intent was to straightwash Masumi

[crispyjenkins]

dream clouds, ghost ground (real friends, dead hometown)

an accidental jangobi au 

that is now specially for @mandalorianbrainweasel | @ironhoshi | @obikakenobi | @mageofcole | @quitebizarre | @bureau-pinery | @atelier-dayz |  @legendaryjarcollection | @pretzel-log1c | @adiduck | @koyacyi-vode | @satan-incarnate-666 | @theclonewarsbrokeme | because i’ve genuinely loved and revelled in our conversations this past year, and am pretty sure(??) you all ship jangobi

( and also @batsutousai and @the-mandalorian-clone-lover but it won’t let me tag you :(

i uhhhhhh plotted this from my prompt roster without rereading the actual ask, so this is completely out of timeline for the anon’s prompt? and i didn’t realise until i was halfway through?? so here’s this??? i already have ideas for a sequel???? (and it’s 3157 words gl)

some context: there’s no age-out, but obi-wan is still sent to the agricorp and stays there. yarael poof inspects the facility 7 years later, and obi has visions of korda 6/galidraan and finagles themself onto the rescue mission of the true mandalorians. cue chaotic, still-has-the-impulsivity-that-got-them-kicked-out obi-wan. who is also nb just for funsies.

title from start//end by eden

  Obi-Wan Kenobi is not as Yarael had expected, but then, he had never met them while they lived in the Temple.

  The young Jedi breaks away from their group of friends on the other side of Bandomeer’s main greenhouse as soon as they catch sight of Yarael, the other novitiates trying and failing to hold Obi-Wan back from running through the dark green garden beds right up to him. They don’t seem to care that they’ve interrupted Master Fodvam’s tour of the facility, and ignores her to glare at Yarael with a fire in their eyes that he vaguely remembers as being the cause for their failing the initiate program. Stocky and toned with dark freckles on every bit of exposed skin from working the desert Enrichment Zones, Obi-Wan glares up at Yarael with a set to their lips so very like Master Yoda (and Qui-Gon Jinn, for that matter) that Yarael raises a placating hand to the Kubaz master at his side and smiles back down at Obi-Wan. 

  At first flush, he might have thought Obi-Wan approached him to beg to be allowed to return to the Temple and become a knight —it would not be the first time an old initiate had done so, though they usually attempted such an action much sooner after their reassignment— but instead, Obi-Wan wastes no time in demanding, “You have to go Korda 6, the lives of thousands depend on it.”

  “And why is that, young one?” Yarael returns calmly, though Obi-Wan must be pushing seventeen standard; everyone is young to him these days.

  Master Fodvam sighs, reaching out to put a hand on Obi-Wan’s arm, but they shake her off. “Obi-Wan,” she admonishes softly, for all the good that does.

  “There’s going to be a genocide,” Obi-Wan insists over the sound of their friends trying to call them back across the greenhouse, “Death Watch is going to kill the Mand’alor and slaughter the True Mandalorians, and no one here will listen to me.”

  Curious about their absolute certainty, Yarael gently pushes against their mind, but has to jerk away when the Jedi shoves him right back out, Yarael’s second brain fizzling like it had been shocked by a bad power coupling. Perhaps Master Yoda had been too hasty in handing this one over to the Council of Reassignment, when even though Yarael can sense their fear and hurt, their lingering doubt in the Jedi Order, Obi-Wan has not a single crack in their shields. Not a single doubt in themselves.

  Master Fodvam shakes her head, but it appears more out of a helplessness than disappointment. “Master Poof,” she says, “Novitiate Kenobi has spoken of this premonition for the last standard tenday, and I’m afraid none of the masters here are versed in the Unifying Force.”

  “At all,” they stress.

  Interesting indeed, that Master Yoda would nominate Obi-Wan for the Agricorp over the other branches, then, for surely they would have shown precognition as a crècheling. “Novitiate Kenobi, you clearly have complete faith in such a vision.” Yarael doesn’t try to enter their mind again, but does open his senses between them, benignly inviting Obi-Wan into his own instead. “Show me.”

  Obi-Wan is bewildered for all of a moment, eyebrows pinched, but then they blink in understanding and snap their eyes closed. A flurry of images is all but shoved into Yarael’s lower brain, a confusing mash of forests and armor and blasterfire, but, yes, there is Vizsla, and there is Mereel, and there is a Mandalorian in blue armor leaving Mereel to die on the battlefield.

  “How are you sure this is Korda 6?” Yarael asks, opening his eyes to Obi-Wan’s mentally-drained expression, tanned skin sallow under the freckles.

  “I’ve heard some of the mission report,” they say, and let Master Fodvam gently support them where they had pushed her away before; Yarael will certainly have to teach Obi-Wan to strengthen their mental stamina. “Every night for the last tenday I’ve seen this battle, I’ve seen ten different ways it could go, and all of them end with the True Mandalorians’ slaughter, unless we do something.”

  The Quermian looks Obi-Wan up and down once more, reaching as far into the Force as he can manage, and he doesn’t have a lifetime seat on the High Council for nothing.

  “Then we’ve not a moment to lose, do we?”

-

  If Obi-Wan is surprised Yarael insists on taking them to his ship to join him for his update to the Council, they don’t show it, and don’t appear nervous at all as the holocall connects. In fact, they stand off to the side with their arms behind their back and a serene expression on their face, right until Master Rancisis admits a contingent of Jedi had just left to help a planet deal with a violent insurgence of Mandalorian commandos, led by Jango Fett.

  And then Obi-Wan only blinks before turning his gaze up to Yarael. “Then we are too late for Korda 6. We must make for Galidraan.”

  The holo of Master Rancisis flickers as he winds and unwinds his appendages until he finally says, “We did not tell you the planet’s name.”

  On Rancisis’ left, Master Yoda taps his cane against the floor. “Clear it is, that truth in Novitiate Kenobi’s visions there is. To what extent, we do not know, but great pain I sense if act quickly we do not.”

  After meeting each of the other coucilmember’s eyes, Master Rancisis leans forward in his seat and points one undulating finger at Obi-Wan. ”You will go with Master Poof to Galidraan, Novitiate Kenobi; if you leave now, you may make it in time to prevent the Jedi from having a hand in this massacre.”

  Obi-Wan checks with Yarael first, their deference almost endearing as they look up at him for confirmation; Yarael cannot help a small smile, and if the Council has not guessed his intentions by now, then they are as blind as a naked womp-rat.  “Well, Novitiate Kenobi?” he prompts, “Are you prepared to see this through properly?”

  Obi-Wan drops their shoulders to raise their chin instead. “To be truthful, Master Poof, I would have been disappointed to be left behind.”

~

  Obi-Wan is already at the hatch of Master Poof’s cruiser when they finally land as close to the coordinates the Council had given them as they dare, and Obi-Wan sorely wishes they had asked Master Fodvam for a blaster before leaving Bandomeer. Nothing can be done for that now, and there is the more pressing matter that Master Poof had been unable to contact the Jedi already planetside, but perhaps they shouldn’t have expected the Force to make it easy on them.

  As soon as the cruiser is settled, Obi-Wan elbows the control panel for the landing hatch and drops right down into the snow; they’re not quite dressed for this weather, not coming straight from the desert Enrichment Zone, but they can hardly feel the cold over the cloying, suffocating fear that saturates the air until even the trees tremble with it. And they might be stronger in the Unifying Force than anyone else in the Agricorp, but Obi-Wan hasn’t been wrist-deep in soil for seven years to come out of it without feeling the Living Force just as strongly.

  Run, the trees tell them, and they do, pushing themself up onto more compact snow and taking off for the True Mandalorian camp. Master Poof calls after them, but they don’t slow until they reach the top of the nearest ridge, a sheer drop on the other side right into the camp, and Obi-Wan is forced to look out over their worst vision come to life.

    The Mandalorians stand as one facing the opening to the ravine on Obi-Wan’s right, where the Jedi spread out among the tents as Master Dooku reads them a list of false wrongs, and Obi-Wan knows the Mandalorians will not surrender. Mand’alor Mereel’s son stands before Dooku in newly-painted blue and red armor, raising his blaster as Dooku ignites his ’saber, and Master Poof halts abruptly at Obi-Wan’s side and lifts a four-fingered hand, but he won’t be able to Force-suggest anyone in beskar, and—

  And he has a lightsaber hanging from his belt.

  Obi-Wan had not failed their Jedi training, they were bright and talented and wanted absolutely nothing more than to become a Jedi Knight, but their temper had seen Bruck to the Halls of Healing, and their impulsivity had seen them to the Agricorp despite the potential they had shown in their seven years in the crèche.

  Their temper, they have control over that now, Obi-Wan is rarely even angry these days, but their impulsivity has been the, ah... cause for many of the Bandomeer masters’ grey hairs, so to speak.

  So Obi-Wan does not think before grabbing Master Poof’s ’saber, barely able to even lift the hilt almost as long as their arm, and leaps from the crumbling snowbank with as much Force behind their feet as they can muster. Sound snaps to silence in their ears, vision narrowing on the scant yard between Jango Fett and his death, as Obi-Wan yanks the Living Force around themself and hauls it up right from the ground, grabs it by the roots of the nearest tree until it sings.

  By a miracle of the Force, Obi-Wan lands perfectly between the new Mand’alor and the Jedi, igniting Master Poof’s unusually-yellow lightsaber just in time to deflect Jango’s first blaster bolt right into the ground — the ground that shakes and splits, exploding snow into the air to make way for the evergreen roots that surge through the cracks and grab Dooku’s entire arm, sending his ’saber flying. 

  Obi-Wan inhales once, twice, before allowing their other senses to flood back to them, and the Force sees fit to immediately make them aware of Master Poof stumbling down the bank after them with his upper hands raised in surrender. 

  “Peace, Jedi!” he shouts, successfully pulling the gaze of everyone in the ravine away from Dooku’s limb held aloft by mud-slick roots and to himself instead. “We have been misled,” he presses on, almost seeming to glide over the packed snow to stand at Obi-Wan’s back and place a palm between their shoulders, “These Mandalorians know nothing of what you speak, Master Dooku, we are both being played by the Governor of Galidraan.”

  Jango Fett growls over his external comms, close enough to make Obi-Wan shiver. “What the kriffing fuck is going on?” he snaps, not bothering to drop his blaster as Obi-Wan glances at him and can just see the shadow of his eyes behind his visor.

  “Death Watch had the governor call the Jedi here under false pretences, your grace,” Obi-Wan says, and doesn’t know what to make of the way the Mand’alor twitches at their voice. They can feel their shoulder weakening from hefting such a massive hilt, unwieldy even gripped at the balance point, but Obi-Wan refuses to let their arm shake, not with both sides holding them under such scrutiny; Maker, maybe they should have changed into Jedi robes instead of their dark tunics and kama? It gives them a silhouette neither wholly Mandalorian nor wholly Jedi, and certainly only adds to the confusion.

  Nothing to be done about it now.

  “The governor lied to the Mandalorians about their targets, to perfectly set them up for a Jedi arbitration,” Master Poof explains. “And of course knew that the Mandalorians would never surrender to the Jedi.” He looks slowly around at both parties, letting his words sink in until the Jedi are shutting their lightsabers off in disgust.

  The Mandalorians don’t put away their blasters, obviously, but they do lower them enough to be an act of good faith; only when Jango lowers his own does Obi-Wan power down Master Poof’s ’saber, and is all too happy to hand the weighty thing back to him with a shallow bow.

  Master Poof smiles in amusement, clipping the hilt back in its rightful place on his belt, before calmly nodding to Dooku. “Novitiate, you may release Master Dooku now.”

  Startled, Obi-Wan immediately calls on the Living Force to pull the roots away from the man and coax them back into the ground, hoping they hadn’t damaged anything enough for the evergreen just up the ridge to suffer. 

  Dooku massages his red wrist and eyes Obi-Wan carefully, the clouds of breath before his lips casting strange shadows over his face in the dying sunlight. “I was not aware the Agricorp was still teaching Consitor Sato to its novitiates. Nor so... successfully.”

  “... Master Fodvam would appreciate it if you didn’t mention that to the High Council.”

  “I am on the Council, Novitiate Kenobi,” Master Poof chortles, but turns back to the Mandalorians still effusing bewilderment before the new Mand’alor can decide they really are all better off dead. “Mand’alor Fett, I presume?”

  Jango shifts subtly, still close enough for Obi-Wan to watch his eyes dart to the Quermian. “For all of a week, jetii; how you are aware of this already does nothing to convince me to trust you. Any of you.”

  Master Poof just smiles serenely. “There is little one cannot gather from the Force upon first meeting, your grace. However, you are correct, and I would not be aware of Jaster Mereel's death if my companion had not told me of it.”

  Jango doesn't get the chance to ask him to clarify just what that means, the girl padawan at Dooku's side cutting in rudely, 

  “And Master Poof, just who is your companion?” as if she can’t tell from Obi-Wan’s attire that they were a Jedi Knight washout. 

  So maybe Obi-Wan doesn’t have complete mastery of their temper just yet, but they don’t get to snarl back before Master Poof answers cheerfully, "They are my new apprentice!"

  Oh. 

  “Master Poof...?”

  “I cannot very well leave a novitiate so strong in the Unifying Force untrained, can I?” Master Poof shakes his head. "As the matter stands, our duty to Galidraan is not yet complete: the governor has pulled both the Jedi and the Senate into his personal affairs, and has allied with a known terrorist group. Master Dooku, might I suggest we make to arrest the actual perpetrator of these crimes?”

  “Vizsla will be there,” Jango interrupts. “And he must know his plan has failed by now, you'll be walking right into a trap.”

  Obi-Wan raises a brow. “A trap meant for you, your grace. When we engage Governor Martinet, it would be unwise for the True Mandalorians to still be on planet.”

  “Why do you keep calling us that?" he snaps, the blue-armoured Mandalorian at his side grabbing his shoulder to hold him back from... striking Obi-Wan? From removing his helmet? Obi-Wan isn't sure. 

  They are sure that, if the Jedi succeed in apprehending Vizsla, the New Mandalorians will make themselves known much earlier. “One day, soon, you will need to make the distinction between yourselves, and those that will use ‘Mandalorian’ as a ploy for cultural reform, as claim to an identity that is not theirs,” Obi-Wan says, finding Jango’s eyes behind his visor once more. “The Children of the Watch will choose ‘True’ as that distinction of your people in retrospect, some fifty years from now.”

  The Mandalorian holding Jango’s shoulder tenses. “Are you some sort of prophet, kih’jetii?”

  “Hardly,” they smile, because the Force promises to back off a little after this mess is all said and done, whenever that may be. “But the Force decided I was the most likely candidate to make it here in time to stop a genocide, though I’m not sure if it knew how much information I actually needed. Irregardless, everything from today is now changed from any visions I had seen of it, I’m no more a prophet than you are.”

  Jango twitches again strangely, and his companion tightens their grip on their blaster. 

  “Novitiate Kenobi is right,” Poof interjects gently. “You should take your people to regroup and recover, your grace, you will be of no use to the galaxy dead.”

  “Wait,” Jango grits through clenched teeth. “It would... be unfair for us not to aid you in this, not when this was our disaster, too.”

  “There is no need for that,” Dooku says regally, Force-calling his ’saber back to his hand. “This has become a Senate matter, and to involve yourselves further would be an unnecessary risk.”

  “So you... want us to just leave?”

  Dooku raises a single eyebrow, expression blank otherwise, but Obi-Wan still shudders at the dark anger in the man, the rage that had hit its boiling point upon first meeting Jango and believing he had slaughtered almost two hundred innocent activists. The Force warns Obi-Wan about that darkness, the way Dooku has not yet released it; it also gives them hope, though, that the master can be pulled back into the light, with a little persuasion and lots of tea. 

  The conversation has moved on without them when Obi-Wan tries to focus back on the crisis at hand, Jango’s commandos already starting to pack up the camp while Dooku and Master Poof quietly discuss the Jedi’s next moves. Neither seem to have realised Obi-Wan hadn’t been paying attention, which is just fine by them: Master Fodvam is already at wit’s end trying to keep them focused on anything but plants, somedays. 

  A heavy gaze pulls their own to look up, across the camp to where Jango oversees his people’s retreat, but Obi-Wan knows the Mand’alor’s attention is on them alone. Obi-Wan gazes right back, refusing to the first to look away, and is somehow thrilled rather than disappointed when Jango does just that. 

  He does not say goodbye, but that’s alright, Obi-Wan knows they’ll be meeting again soon. 

~

  Following a stomping Jango up into Jaster’s old ship, Myles won’t stop laughing at him.

  “‘The one who will speak of the truth,’” he quotes gleefully, just as jovial in his punching of Jango’s sides as he attempts to unbuckle his helmet, and he doesn’t back down even when his Mand’alor growls at him. “Kriff, who knew that witch would end up being so literal?”

  “I told you I don’t believe in that osik,” Jango snaps, trying to shove his best friend off of him. “I don't believe in that old hag's ‘prophecy’ any more than I believe in Jedi competence.”

  “Ah ah, Jang’alor, you shouldn’t speak of your ba’buir like that, what would Jaster say?”

  Jango finally gets his helmet off and yanks his hood down so he can get right in Myles’ face to snarl, “That adiik is not the future of Mandalore, kriff whatever the fuck Jaster’s buir says! One dream and one crazy old enby witch spouting oracle nonsense does not make Obi-Wan Kenobi my destiny.”

  Jango doesn’t need to see Myles’ face to know it lights up in victory. “Nobody said their full name, Jang’alor.”

  “Finish that thought and I’ll throw you out the airlock.”

-

Mando’a:

Mand’alor — “Sole ruler”, contended ruler of Mandalore.

jetii — “Jedi” sing, pl. jetiise

kih'jetii — “Little Jedi”, highly offensive

osik — impolite form of “dung”, shit

ba'buir/e —  “grandparent/s”, gender neutral

adiik — a child aged from 3 to 13, used here as an insult

Cansitor Sato — Traditional High Galactic for “Plant Surge”, a Living Force-related technique of controlling plants (usually vines) to ensnare or slow an enemy; in legends, this was taught to Agricorp members as well, headcanoned here to be usually only taught to master/older members. 

Novitiate — personal headcanon for the form of address for non-master members of the Jedi Corps.

[agentjx7]

SO I wrote this massive post in the BCB discord explaining why I still like Paulo/Lucy, and at some urging I’ve edited it for tumblr!

Now, I could start off with a lot of talking about Paulo and Lucy’s personalities and why I think they’d mesh well together, but you’ve probably read the comic. You know the characters. I don’t think the argument “they don’t have chemistry” is even on the table. Instead, I feel like most people’s arguments about the ship are either “there are healthier/better ships for both of them” or “the Ferris Wheel scene and chapter 100 sink it.” So let’s talk about these arguments.

I am not going to be able to convince anyone who thinks that their ship is “better” than paulucy to switch sides, so let’s talk about healthier for a second. Paulo’s relationship with Daisy as it stands at the moment would doubtless get mired down by Daisy’s jealousy of Lucy. I’m not saying it couldn’t be good in the future, and both of them are developing in the directions that would make that easier, but at the moment I don’t think it’d be good. And as for Lucy? The number of healthy ships for Lucy is vanishingly small. I think it’s possible that her relationship with Paulo, if it started in the next chapter, would be healthy, but I also think they both need a little more work— and I think that they’re more likely to develop in positive ways together than apart!

Now, as for their recent arguments. I do not think Lucy is telling the truth during After You on the Ferris Wheel— at least, not the whole truth. She doesn’t feel like she can do a relationship at the moment, and she’s tired of watching Paulo (who she cares about deeply) hurt himself by waiting for her. This is compounded by the things she’s internalized from December and after: she feels like all she CAN do is hurt Paulo more, and that even if she starts dating him he’s only going to be doing it because he likes her appearance. Paulo might have proved MULTIPLE times that this isn’t the case, but she’s dealing with quite a bit right now and it’s very hard for her to see the positives in any of her relationships— Augustus excluded.

During the Ferris wheel ride she never actually can bring herself to tell Paulo outright that she doesn’t love him and that she’s incapable of loving him in the future. She does say that she’s sorry they couldn’t have been more in the past, but that’s because of her crush on Mike, a crush she’s slowly getting over. When he flat out asks her if there’s no way for her to love him she gives a non-answer and then changes the subject to the time they slept together, which she argues she only did because she thought she’d never see him again. I think this is true (and it was kind of a shitty thing to do), but Lucy isn’t giving herself enough credit OR Paulo enough agency here. Her goal during this whole conversation is to convince Paulo to move on from her, so she says a LOT of stuff that’s fairly hurtful. From her own admission, though, the reason she’s saying it all is because she thinks Paulo should move on, and that she’s not worth waiting for. That’s not her call to make. Unfortunately, as we see from their next conversation, all she really accomplished was ruining Paulo’s evening.

So now the big one, High Expectations. Paulo absolutely BLOWS UP at Lucy here, and a lot of people signaled it as the death knell for the ship. It definitely wasn’t our finest hour, but I maintain that there’s a couple little things in the scene that show that it’s still got stuff going for it. FIRST of all, Paulo flat-out says he loves Lucy. This one should’ve put the nail in the coffin of “ah Paulo doesn’t care about her because of the fair” argument, but on the NEXT page we get to the big one. Lucy says she didn’t come back for any of them, and Paulo asks the armor-piercing question: “Then why the fuck did you come back?”

This scene, this panel, is the FIRST time since Love Again that we see Lucy taken off guard by one of the members of the gang. It’s the only time her “I’m a cold hearted bitch now and I hate all of you” act really drops before she has her conversation with Sue a couple chapters later (It’s All in the Mind).

Paulo is the first person to REALLY get under her skin after she returns, and it’s pretty clear the things he says in this chapter stick with her. I could talk more about that, but for now let’s talk about Paulo and why he doesn’t mean the shit he says right here about how he’s Done With Lucy for real this time™️. First of all, Paulo is right up there with Mike and Lucy in terms of emotional outbursts— the main difference is that when he attacks people he just straight-up physically attacks them instead of tearing them down emotionally, and that it’s a coin flip whether he’s going to get angry with someone else or burst into emotional tears and start hating himself (because he’s one of the most empathetic emotional characters in the comic but I digress). He’s just seen Lucy, who’s keeping up the “I actually hate ALL of you now” act, with AUGUSTUS, who to his knowledge is the guy who tried to molest Daisy and nothing else. Robbed of the context of the situation, he feels like Lucy really hates them all so much that she’d rather hang out with the creep than them— than HIM— and that shit hurts. Why? Because he absolutely still loves her.

Paulo has also had an EXTREMELY rough day. One of his best friends just slammed his face into a lunch table. He’s still on rough terms with Abbey, even if Daisy’s party has assuaged some of these fears. He’s ALREADY ready to fall apart, and then THIS hits him like a train. It HURTS, so he lashes out and storms off.

Lucy realizes that she’s hurt him, bad, and that hurts her— but we don’t get to see that because Paulo and Mike are the focus of the chapter so we’re MOVING ON now, I’ll explain in a minute.

SO! During All in the Mind Lucy has another confrontation with her friends, leading to her blow-up with Daisy. BUT CRUCIALLY she’s on good terms with Sue again, and she starts to realize that she can’t keep hurting her old friends like this. This leads directly into her behavior in Witch Hunt, which is the next time we see the two of them interact. All she does is apologize to Paulo for potentially hurting him again with the dress— but this is a bigger moment than it might seem. In the earlier chapters after her return, Lucy would’ve pretended not to care that her actions could have hurt Paulo, but this time things are different! This is her reaching the olive branch out to him, as well as her genuine fear that she’s just hurt him again. Paulo assures her it’s no big deal, and then resumes casually flirting with her (in a friendly way!), something that she laughs with and clearly enjoys. When Daisy interrupts them they BOTH start blushing.

SINCE THAT POINT, the only chapter to feature the two of them significantly interacting is Unwanted Gift. Paulo happily takes part in the celebrations of Lucy’s birthday, which he DEFINITELY would not have done if he was still in the same mindset from High Expectations. Now, I can’t claim to know what’s going to happen after the most recent emotional missile salvo of a chapter, but I truly do believe the two of them are in a much better place than when Lucy first returned.

NOW, what evidence do I have that they really do still love each other? Admittedly, some of it is just my own gut feeling about the characters. Lucy leaving for the better part of a year didn’t put a damper on Paulo’s feelings. Being told “stop caring about me before you get hurt,” ESPECIALLY since Lucy can’t (or won’t) say “I don’t love you,” is not going to stop him.

As for Lucy? Well, there’s the inherent fact that Lucy didn’t just come out and say she didn’t like him and he had no chance. Lucy is often brutally honest, and she still chose to dodge the question when he asked. But Lucy still can’t bring herself to say she does love him, so if she’s so brutally honest, she must not, right? Well, no! One of Lucy’s major character flaws is that she can’t be fully honest with people, even when it would benefit them both. Admitting her true feelings is a specific area where that’s a problem— Lucy confessed she loves someone once before, and look how THAT went. Also on the BCB ship chart she’s still listed as having a crush on him and the chart came out in *checks notes* after Lucy came back so I’m hanging onto that for dear life

So, there you have it! My overdrawn explanation of why paulucy good, actually. Thank you so much for reading if you got this far! God I really love this comic waaay too much.

[angstlizard]

https://open.spotify.com/playlist/3cZjA1689SIC8dcHUAkOYc?si=ccad14c29e784301

Very happy to be able to post the work I’ve done for the @bnha-big-bang this year! I was put on the amazing @i-am-snowils-admiral‘s team with her fic, Legacy!

Legacy is a one-shot fic centered around the idea of the One for All quirk not only passing down the quirk itself, but also the will of the First. The main focus is dadzawa & dadmight trying to help Izuku, so if you’re into that, this fic is an absolute must read!

The image descriptions were done by @ive-been-losing-sleep! I am extremely thankful for her work, especially considering how much there was to do!

[ID: a vertical, three panel collage of images from the manga. The left panel is an image of All Might in his weakened state, sitting with one arm on his knee. The only color is the yellow of his hair and his pants.  The center panel is an upside-down image of Midoriya Izuku in his hero costume. His hand is over his chin, like he’s thinking, and he’s shaded green. The rightmost image is of Eraserhead, shaded in red. He has one hand clutched in his capture weapon around his neck. The letters “L E” are typed above the left panel, the letters “G A” below the center panel, and “C Y” above the final panel, spelling “LEGACY”]

[ID: a nine panel collage arranged 3x3. The first panel, in the top left, is a photo of the surface of rippling water. The image beside it is a photo of a stoplight in fog. Its red, yellow, and green lights project as beams through the mist. The top right panel depicts a broken screen, shattered so lines of color disrupt the black screen. The leftmost panel of the second row is an image of the First User from the manga, standing with one arm outstretched. The center panel is a photo of a tree in a flat field, barren of leaves so every thin branch is visible. Its branches are tipped with bright spheres of light. The third panel of the second row is an image of Midoriya Izuku from the manga. His back is angled toward the camera, so his face is obscured, as he stares at a massive wall in front of him. The first panel of the third row depicts the words “I’M LOSING MYSELF” typed in white, type-writer font over a black background. The panel beside it is a black-and-white image of curling smoke. The final panel, in the bottom right of the image, is of the words “isn’t it lovely, all alone. heart made of glass, my mind of stone.” The words are white over a black background and slightly blurred.]

[ID: an eight panel collage, arranged with three panels in the top row, two in the second row, and three in the bottom row. The first image, in the top right, appears to be a page of a book with only the word “Help” written on it. The second panel is overlayed in yellow and depicts the meeting hands of Adam and God, from the Sistine Chapel, with a circular loading symbol situated between them. The final image of the top row is a black-and-white photo of folded cloth with fringed ends. The first panel of the second row is a dark photo of an outstretched hands covered in lines of neon blue light. Beside it is a photo of an empty hospital bed with light streaming in from a window out of view. The first image of the bottom row is a photo of an empty road. In the sky above the road are the words “For a minute there, I lost myself” written in type-writer font. The panel beside it depicts an image of Midoriya Izuku in his hero costume from the manga. He has one hand over his chin as he looks down, like he’s thinking. The last panel, in the bottom right, are the words “I WON’T GIVE UP” typed over a pastel green background.]