#I don't understand a Lot of the reasoning behind most ships in one piece but god damn do I like your art style

[artemis-in-space]

I literally don't care what you ship in One Piece as long as you get the dynamic right

[moonydustx]

Law or Zoro (maybe both separately 🙇‍♀️?) with their s/o secretly being a kunoichi 🤭

Thank u 🙏

Hi Hi! I'll start with: I'm sorry. I didn't know much about the term and I tried to research it, but to be honest, I don't think I got the best of it. I used the point of view in which the character actually became an ally. Maybe I got a little carried away with Law.

After all, how can you disappoint them? (I mean, look at these two happy just seeing Raizo)

requests | one piece masterlist

Zoro

Warnings: blood, use of swords, the two like each other but are unable to deal with it maturely.

"Leaving friendship aside" you shouted, dodging the blow. "You're too slow, Zoro."

" What did you say?" He tried to attack you again, but it only took a few steps for you to dodge his attacks. "What the hell!"

"I said: slow." You stopped the sword with your forearm, turning it and letting it rest against the swordsman's skin. "And sloppy."

"How can you do that?"

"A lady doesn't tell your secrets." You laughed, letting him go.

The sun streamed through the crow's nest windows, illuminating the entire space.

Occasionally you and the swordsman would take time out to train. Your excuse was always that you needed to improve your skills and his was that he needed a punching bag. You knew there was a lot behind it - the hours wasted together, the accidental skin-to-skin touches. Those workouts were your favorite part of your schedule.

A crash caught the two of you's attention as well as the uneven rocking and some screams coming from beneath you.

"We are being attacked." Zoro looked out the small window seeing the reason for the small chaos that had formed. "Stay here."

He disappeared from your field of vision in a few seconds. You were determined to follow his orders, not that you owed any kind of obligation, but returning to fight seemed like a distant choice.

Your eyes narrowed at the edge of the window, trying to understand the scale of what was happening. Three pirate ships surrounded the Sunny, each with a flag. Probably a group has allied together to try to overthrow you. Ignoring it no longer seemed like an option.

You practically jumped halfway down the stairs, finding the ship full of enemies. Everyone fought as best they could, but the number of people interested in taking down the Straw Hats seemed too much for you.

Using the same technique you had used in previous training, you dodged each attack, trying to take as little damage as possible. On the other side, you saw one of the men suddenly throw Nami's Clima-tact stick away. Your eyes quickly searched for the best and closest alternative within your reach.

Dodging two guys, you didn't bother asking for permission to take out the third sword that Zoro still kept in its sheath, only seeing him look at you sideways without much room to question.

Before the bullet hit Nami, you positioned the katana blade and watched the fragment turn into two. Ignoring your friend's screams, you threw blows at the first man who had attacked her. A cut in the middle of the chest was enough to knock him down and make room for other enemies to find you.

The sharp blade paraded across the deck of the Sunny, arms fell around you, enemy blood splashed on your clothes and the floor. The presence of the other companions was a memory in the fog, you just needed to help everyone get rid of the little problem. Losing your balance when you saw the ship accelerate in the opposite direction to the enemy ship, it wasn't long before you were just contemplating the blue horizon in front of you.

The absolute silence took a few seconds to bother you until you realized what it was. All your companions looked at you curiously, probably the blood that dripped from the katana and that also stained your clothes was what attracted most of their attention.

The words came to the tip of your tongue and died for a few moments, you were fully aware that you owed your friends satisfaction, it was just difficult to bring the story to light.

"Since when did you know how to do that?" Nami was the first to ask, without any type of ceremony.

"There's been a good, good time."

"But you weren't just an expert in languages, I mean, for someone who has their face buried in books translating those strange things, you know your way around a katana very well." Usopp pointed out, making clear all the curiosity - which was probably in the others' minds.

"I was trained for a long time, longer than I would have liked." you declared, walking to the edge of the ship and leaning against it.

The crew's swordsman did the same, stopping next to you and the others practically circled you. Your hand nervously squeezed the blunt end of the sword in your hand.

"I was taught to infiltrate, to go unnoticed, to kill. I never had much of a choice in the meantime."

"And how did you end up here?" Chopper asked almost adorably, his curiosity leaning more toward admiration than anything else.

"I had a mission." your eyes found Robin in the background. "I needed to infiltrate and take Robin away from here, a high price for someone with high qualifications."

"This is getting interesting." the archaeologist smiled almost understandingly. For some reason you seemed to have given up on the plan and she had already found herself in a similar position. "What made you stop?"

"You, all of you." the answer sounded obvious coming from you. "You all welcomed me so well, I felt like part of a family. So I never answered the calls again and decided to stay here, to be honest, if I had any other choice I wouldn't have done all this." you gestured towards the blood on your clothes. "I understand if you want me to leave, a secret this big..."

"No." Luffy responded immediately. "You're not going to leave."

"But..."

"The captain decided, you're still a Straw Hat." Sanji completed, leaving room for a brief drag on his cigarette. "And with all that blood you're still beautiful."

"Shut up idiot" Zoro grumbled. "But I agree with Luffy, it's decided, you stay. Now everyone, let's get these scraps out of here." the man pointed to the downed enemies.

Without much desire to continue arguing, one by one you saw your companions move away and begin to clean the deck. Zoro however remained there, standing a few meters away.

"I bet you hate me for my petty theft." You turned to him.

"Are you feeling good?" His calm voice broke your expectations. "You didn't seem comfortable telling all that."

"It's a past that I wanted to leave behind, you know? Being a linguist is much cooler than having to scrub clothes dirty with enemy remains, but now I don't have much choice."

"What do you mean by that?"

"I've already proven that I can fight, I believe that in the next battles it won't make much sense for me to try to escape." a dejected smile crossed your lips as you approached him.

"Only if you want." Zoro replied as you parked yourself in front of him, your feet aligned with his. "If you want to fight, I'll be happy to help you get a katana. If you want to continue just being you, I promise I have enough strength and swords for both of us."

The promise implicit in his voice gave you goosebumps, as well as warming your cheeks in a certain shyness.

"And leaving friendship aside?" he started and you just nodded. "You look beautiful using my katana to take out idiots."

"Leaving friendship aside..." you replied, taking the opportunity to reduce the small space between you.

Without taking your eyes off Zoro's eyes, you slid the sword back into his sheath, completing the trio that now rested after the battle.

"I'd love to be able to do both. Maybe you can help me." your faces were just a short distance away, ignoring the entire world around you.

"Meet me tonight, upstairs. I think we can take some time to train."

"You two make this mess, come help!" Nami's scream broke you both out of your little trance, but the promise still hung in the air.

♡

Law

Warnings: cute, brief hint of something hotter at the end, pre-established relationship. Law is a super nerd in this one.

Something was out of place. Something felt like it was about to go wrong, you just didn't know what. Following the corridors of the submarine, you made a point of looking room by room, corner by corner, in search of what you didn't even know what you were looking for. The Polar Tang, despite being moored on an island, was occupied by all the crew. Almost all, the captain was absent.

"Bepo?" you entered the room he was in, hitting the switch sharply.

With nightfall and no longer sailing, there weren't many tasks left to be carried out inside Polar Tang. The bear - who was apparently taking a brief nap - rubbed his eyes, trying to understand where the call was coming from.

"Sorry to wake you up. Did you have any news from the captain?"

"He just said he was going to leave for a few hours and that if possible, we would be ready to leave." If it weren't for the worry you would definitely be teasing Bepo and his habit of making mini roars instead of yawns.

"Taking a nap is being ready, mister furry?" the bear's grumbling filled the room. "I don't know Bepo, I have a bad feeling."

"About the captain?" he rose to his feet, more alert than before. "He said he had things to sort out."

"I don't know." you murmured, thinking about possibilities, perhaps the worst possible ones echoed in your mind. "From what I remember, Law was alone for a long time before he went, am I right?"

"Yes! He said he needed to focus on something."

"Okay, let's go through his desk."

Papers hung on the wall, notes spread out on the table, a large web connected the information he had gathered so far about Doflamingo. Occupying his chair, you didn't hesitate to turn over some pages, finding names and positions written down and a map of the island. An X marking a specific point next to a photo attracted your gaze, making you search your own memories to understand the familiarity with such a situation.

"Flander..." you brought the photo of the man with white hair and a black suit closer. You remembered the man but even so, your brain burned trying to remember why and it gave you a bad feeling.

"Do you know him?" "An idiot tycoon who's also a mobster. Last time I bumped into him it was to recover a stolen devil fruit. He craves power, so he uses the black market to sell them and also use... oh, shit!"

"What happened?" the bear tried to keep up with you as you ran back to your room, thankful to find it empty.

"Get everything ready for us to escape. Also prepare the defenses." you pulled out a large hidden brown box. "Law may have been ambushed."

In other situations you would even ask him to leave, but while the bear screamed and ran from side to side you didn't hesitate to throw your overalls and in seconds put on the suit. The minutes lost in getting dressed would certainly be recovered with help in camouflaging.

"Wait, what is this?"

"No questions Bepo! Go now!"

You adjusted the cloth that covered part of your face. Ignoring the curious stares, you crossed Polar Tang in seconds, finding a full moon shining all over the pier that night. That costume, that story, you had chosen to leave behind, but the thought of someone hurting your captain was too much for you to ignore.

Following through the trees it didn't take long to find Flander's compound. Trying to avoid the presence of the security guards, you followed their movement pattern, finding a small gap to climb onto the first floor of roofs. Even though the rooms that were within reach of your eyes seemed empty, you still chose to go outside. Leaning on the gutter and avoiding any noise as much as possible, you didn't have much difficulty finding the next floor.

This time, coming across some lights on in the indoor area, you could feel closer to your goal. Using the noise of voices and the distraction to your advantage, you managed to peek inside the room.

Flander was sitting in one of the chairs, three huge men accompanied him and Law was sitting on the floor. A trickle of blood ran from his eyebrow and his hands were tied together. You hated being right in your suspicions.

Using the point of illumination to your advantage, you opted for the lack of it, throwing your dagger towards the lamp. The sound of breaking glass attracted the attention of everyone there - including Law.

"Where did that come from?" one of the men bent down picking up the small gray object.

The moonlight might still be an advantage for them, but it wouldn't be a problem for you. Rolling into the window, you took advantage of having fallen in a crouch to cut the ankle of the first man within your reach and joining a trip, he soon found the ground.

The other two gathered around you and using the ratio of size to speed, you managed to dodge them, reaching Flander and putting your other dagger through his leg, leaving it stuck between his thigh and the upholstery of the expensive bench he was sitting on. One of the other men managed to hit you, making you lose your balance, but it only took a few kicks and both he and the other man were on the ground.

"Who are you?" Flanders shouted, probably not only trying to clear the doubt but also trying to get the attention of more henchmen.

Before he could continue shouting, you slammed his head against the expensive wooden table in front of the man.

"Cap... Trafalgar." you corrected yourself almost at the last second. "Do you know where your handcuff keys are?"

"In my left pocket." your eyes - which were one of the few things discovered on your face looked in pure disbelief at him. "I knew he would try to trick me, I changed all the handcuffs here to regular versions."

"I do not believe that." despite the relief in knowing that in a way, he already knew what awaited him, it didn't stop you from staying alert.

"You're Shadow Moon, right? The konoichi who helps Sora in magazine 147 of the regular story. From Yushe Island?" He stood up, approaching the table and picking up a small brown notebook, leafing through it quickly. "Am I right, Shadow Moon?"

"Law, we have time to sort this out later." you pulled the cloth away, revealing your face. "Is this the only notebook you need?"

"Are you Sora's Shadow Moon from the Yushe Islands?" for the first time you saw Law's voice rise a few decibels in pure surprise. A slightly more serious version of a child who just got the doll he always wanted. "You?"

"We really can... Shit!" you felt your arm burn as more men appeared in your field of vision. Before you could prepare to fight, the blue dome enveloped you and the bodies lying in the room were replaced by the trees of the island's small forest, the same one that had helped you camouflage your arrival.

"Well, it was a graze." you checked your own arm and it didn't take long for Law to take the job for himself.

"Yes, you almost don't need stitches. A bandage should do the trick, Shadow Moon."

"Are you really going to call me that all night?" Law decided to back off the subject when he noticed the irritation in your voice, but you knew the subject wouldn't remain quiet for long. "When we arrive at Polar Tang, I'll explain. I've already got everyone ready for us to set sail."

You were never so happy to be back in the little metal cocoon, or at least that was the affectionate way you called the yellow submarine. After reassuring everyone, you followed Law to his room, knowing that he must have doubts about everything that happened.

"How did you know I was there?" he asked as soon as you slammed the door behind you. Taking advantage of the small peace to catch your breath, you leaned against the wall.

"I had a strange feeling and when I found Flander's photo, I knew something was wrong. I already knew his history with Devil Fruit users."

"I understood." Law seemed distracted by something on his stand. "I knew he would try to catch me, I wanted to make the most of my time to extract information."

"Next time, please let your girlfriend know." you murmured, crossing your arms and watching him walk towards you. "No way."

Law placed a small doll next to you and you knew what it was without even looking.

"Shadow Moon, I knew it!"

"I'm sorry I kept this from you." You asked and saw him nod. The same hand that held the action figure pulled you closer to the bed.

"How did you end up in Sora?" he sat down, giving you space to sit next to him or in it.

"Long story short, I helped one of the comic's editors, it was his way of thanking me." Law's eyes sparkled as you adjusted yourself over his hips.

"My girlfriend is Shadow Moon. Do you have any idea how badass that is?" he again looked at the doll and placed it aside. "Although you look a lot hotter in the real version."

"Is this serious? I took down several idiots at once to save you and you're impressed by this?" You pointed to your own clothes.

"This? You mean the legendary Shadow Moon responsible for taking down enemy armies and who can disappear into the shadows?" Your loud laugh also brought a light laugh from Law. "Shadow Moon herself came to save me. Where were you hiding all this?"

"Kind of wanted to put that story behind me." you bent down and pushed him against the bed, using the gap to lay on his chest. Just a few hours apart along with the adrenaline in your body made you miss Law's contact. "It was really lucky they left my suit in Sabaody."

"If you don't want to talk about it, that's okay." Noticing the hesitation in your voice, Law tried to steer you away from that subject. But his presence was comforting, it was as if the old memories were just that: things left behind.

"After my parents died, these women took me in. They gave me a home, food, but in return they trained me. They did this with different types of girls."

"You know why?"

"A lot of us went on missions for them, but the purpose was always to teach us how to defend ourselves." You smiled when you felt his fingers caress your skin, encouraging you to keep talking.

"I started to stand out, taking down many of the enemies until the mission where they discovered me infiltrated. I was pretending to be a doctor for one of the pirates who stole them."

"So that's why you already knew how to deal with everything here."

"Exactly, it was almost like a vocation, or destiny" a provocative smile dared to cross your lips, soon disappearing. "After finding out, they locked me up for a while. When they got tired of my presence, they sold me into slavery."

"You're lucky that a guy with a good heart was there, right?" Law's cynicism was something almost immersed in him. You quickly took the man's lips.

"They say he was very handsome." you murmured, catching his kisses.

"Babe, please." his tone was strangled when he felt your hips press against his. "But it's okay if you say no..."

"Trafalgar!" You lightly patted his shoulder when you saw him blush - like you hadn't seen in the time you were together. The way his gaze roamed your body made it clear what he wanted. "Okay, the costumes are still on my body."

"Hm.. my beautiful little konoichi." he turned you over on the bed, pinning you beneath him. "This time you won't be able to hide."

[zvtara-was-never-canon]

what is your second most favorite otp from any series?

AAAAAAHHHHH, DON'T DO THIS TO ME! There are some many pairings I love in so many books, movies, series, soap-operas, etc.

*sighs* Okay, gun to my head, there's three, in no particular order that I absolutely ADORE, have made me cry, and that I legitimately don't understand how anyone could watch these shows and not ship them (spoilers for Friends, How I Met Your Mother and The Borgias, respectively)

Monica and Chandler

Because I was just 4-years-old when Friends final season was aired, I already knew these two were going to be endgame when I watched the show - and it didn't take long for me to see the appeal, even when they were still supposed to be just friends.

They're just so affectionate with each other right from the start, cuddling on the couch, helping each other out - and Chandler just casually says stuff like "If neither of us is married when we're fourty, I'm totally willing to marry and have a kid with you just so you get the family you want" and actively tries PROVE to her he is boyfriend material and they make a game out of it??????? Genius. Perfect. Amazing.

And then it happens, they hook up and right away they're couple goals. Can't keep their hands off each other, are super clingy, all of their friends find them ridiculously adorable, Chandler matures A LOT and Monica is very patient with him because she knows he's used to hiding any emotional turmoil behind a sarcastic joke, and they can joke about and tease each other without either of them being too mean or too sensitive.

Also their conflicts never last more than one or two episodes and they never break up after first getting together, and it was a breath of fresh air coming from the same show that gave us Ross and Rachel.

Barney and Robin

They have INSANE chemistry, Robin was the only woman Barney was truly willing to change for, and Barney was the one guy Robin was with that ever truly liked her for who she was.

They. Deserved. So. Much. Better.

Seriously, I can't get over how unfair their ending was. There's a reason I tell Zutarians to give this show a watch before they complain about how their ship, that was never even canon, was "robbed of it's happy ending."

We see Barney and Robin being teased as potentially having at least a fling someday as early as season 1, they finally hook up in season 3, season 4 is all about him struggling with being in love with her, seasons 5-7 are all about them dating then breaking up while still being very much in love yet never properly reconciliating because life gets in the way, season 8 is them getting engaged and being adorably happy together, the 9th and final season is THE WEEKEND OF THEIR WEDDING and them working through every last issue they still have to make sure they will a long, happy life together as a married couple...

Then the finale goes and says "Actually, they divorced off-screen because their hotel room had no wi-fi. Sorry." WHO THE FUCK DOES THAT? It's really no wonder the network cancelled the planned spin-off right after the finale aired.

Cesare and Lucrezia

Ah yes, a Nichya list of great ships includes a pair of siblings, specifically Older Brother X Young Sister, who would have thought? This time a kind of, sort of historical one! (Seriously, The Borgias is the kind of over-dramatic, historically inaccurate period piece I love wasting my time with, and the aesthetic is incredible).

Even as someone who is very into that kind of dynamic and that knew the show was gonna go there, I was still SHOCKED at how unsubtle is right from the start - especially once I found out the writer didn't want to play up the sexual tension originally.

Somehow, the first time we see these two on screen, Lucrezia is spying on her brother as he has sex and once he notices he playfully chases her around the garden, berating her for spying on him AGAIN, and then when they're on the ground together he just casually admits to loving her more than he loves God????????????????????????????? NORMAL SIBLING BEHAVIOR, EVERYBODY! NOTHING WEIRD GOING ON HERE!

I adore how protective (and possessive) Cesare is of her, ready to commit murder at the very thought of a man mistreating her - yet he is still willing to step aside when he thinks she found a good man, because nothing matters to him more than Lucrezia's happiness, not even his own. It just so happens that he always has to step in again because nobody loves her quite to insane degree he does, and thus she only feels truly safe, happy and loved with him, hence her saying "Only a Borgia can truly love a Borgia."

And they, legitimately, are insepareble. They're always close to each other, holding hands, hugging, cuddling, KISSING - all long before they're ready to admit, even to themselves that they're in love.

They are so clueless about what level of physical affection is normal between relatives that they made out in front of her husband and were surprised he found out about their incestuous affair.

And more importantly, thanks to the show being cancelled after season 3 instead of getting the planned fourth season, they never broke up! The show literally ends with them in each other's arms, accepting their love. I couldn't have asked for literally anything else.

[lunatheseus]

harry potter (canon) couples that I could get behind + commentary

Hermione Granger x Harry Potter: Idk… I can kinda get behind this- they should relate to each other when it comes to the wizarding world. Because they were both raised by muggles, it must’ve been hard to figure out the magical world right off the bat. They also trust each other a ton. (Way more than Ron did, anyway) When Hermione brings Umbridge to the forest to trick her, Harry at first doesn’t know what she’s about to do, but he trusts her. They’re also not jealous of each other, whether it comes to romantic interest or just their capabilities in something. Hermione didn’t care that Harry was the Chosen one, and Harry didn’t care that Hermione topped him in every class.

Hermione Granger x Draco Malfoy: Popular, maybe basic opinion, but these two are the perfect balance of opposites and likes. They are both opposites when it comes to the obvious: Hogwarts houses, blood status, athletics, etc. But they both have many things in common: heavy expectations, being at the top of each class, and other more deep-rooted ideologies. This would give them both something to learn, but also something to relate to. In addition, after the war, Draco could improve his reputation by helping all of the causes and organizations that Hermione started over the years. He has a ton of money, why not donate some? I also think they could be adorable together, Draco spoiling Hermione, Hermione exposing Draco to muggle culture.

Luna Lovegood x Draco Malfoy: Besides the similar white-blonde hair and the same blood status, these two could not be more different. However, it can be a good thing. While Luna can teach Draco about leading life with love and a bit more imagination (like how she was brought up), and Draco can hold Luna to the real world and teach her about the more traditional way of life. On top of that, after the war, Luna doesn't seem like the person to care about Draco's ruined reputation. She would help him get over caring too much about what other people think and instead enjoy life more often. I feel that her forgiving nature would help Draco lead a better life. (Besides, his parents can't possibly be THAT opposed, she's a pureblood, after all)

Theodore Nott x Hermione Granger: Similar reasoning as to the Hermione x Draco ship reasoning, but also remembering that Theo and Hermione don't have as much history, which could be both bad and/or good, that's up to interpretation. I also love that Hermione used a time turner in her younger years, and Theo gets in trouble for being involved in handling illegal magical goods, ie a time turner.

Draco Malfoy x Theodore Nott: With both of their father's being servants of Voldemort, the two supposedly bonded, finding solace in each other. They both also survive the war, so helping each other through hardships would be a critical piece of the story because of how much they relate to and understand when it comes to one another. I also love how Theo was never really in Draco's "Gang" which makes me believe that he has his own independent mind, which is always important.

Luna Lovegood x Theodore Nott: Sunshine x Grumpy? Both see Thestrals? Like the Luna x Draco reasoning, they can learn lots from each other, + ignore the society's views on them because they both don't care.

Luna Lovegood x Neville Longbottom: Ok EVEN THOUGH Luna Lovegood x Rolf Scamander is the most genius idea that JK Rowling has had in her entire career, this could work. The fact that both passionate about their own respective interests makes conversation and life very unique. They're both also good listeners, which makes open communication very effective. Luna could teach Neville to ignore the haters, and Neville is a good anchor for Luna.

Pansy Parkinson x Neville Longbottom: I think that Pansy x Neville isn't such a bad idea. They're kind of opposites, but I love the idea that Neville gives so-called ice-queen-Pansy a safe space to be herself, to be a soft and warm. On the flipside, I think Pansy could teach Neville a thing or two about not being a pushover, and maybe even adding a little snark to conversations.

Pansy Parkinson x Harry Potter: I feel like this would work really well. Honestly though, Pansy would wear the pants in this relationship hands down. I feel like they would have a ton of chemistry... and they would learn a lot from each other. Pansy would humble Harry, Harry would humble Pansy. Simple.

Draco Malfoy x Ginny Weasley: Both Quidditch Fanatics? Both have passionate and fiery personalities? Both have unusually coloured hair? Enemies to Lovers? HMMMM?

Blaise Zabini x Ginny Weasley: Both fit as heck, both very sassy and witty. They'd charm the pants off of each other, both figuratively and literally... they'd have fun. I'd say this is better than Ginny x Draco

Astoria Greengrass x Theodore Nott: idk why but this just works

Theodore Nott x Harry Potter: again, idk why but this would work too

Chicken x Ron Weasley: Whoever did this is an effing genius: Chickron | Shipping Wiki | Fandom

[uchihakeimei]

Helloooo, hope it's ok if I reply here! Also I forgot to apologize in advance for my terrible English, hope it's understandable!

What a relief to find someone who actually understands Kaiser! He's one of my absolute favs together with Rin and Isagi, but I never really spoke much about him since I noticed the fandom has a bad habit of misinterpreting him. AND Kaisagi in general. No, Isagi is not his soft-uwu toyboy, he's a badass, a menace and if anything, it's him that would put Kaiser in his place. And yes, they totally hate each other. Like, super hate. And that borderlines on obsession from Kaiser's part. (Ngl, that's my favorite part in all Isagi's ships, how he's unbothered, moisturized, living his best life, and the counterpart is decaying in their obsession in beating him. God, he's such an icon.) Their mutual disdain is what makes the ship so balanced, and also the reason why I dislike Kainess, I don't really appreciate the power imbalance and how submissive Ness acts around him. He deserves better than that. Oh, how I would love to see him leave Kaiser in the dirt to fight alone: that would be such a great character development for both of them. Ofc I'm not judging anyone who ships Kainess, it's a perfectly valid ship! I just love both Kiis and Rnis cause they check all of the boxes of the chemicals in my brain. And when the Kaiser flashbacks drops? I'm gonna go absolutely crazy. I need to be the worm in his brain and understand him in a much deeper way than Kaneshiro ever could.

(Also, I love your headcanon about their alternative jobs. I tried to come up with something for Rin too, and I concluded that he definitely could only ever work in front of a computer, where he would never have to interact with people - and traumatize them with his weird bullshit, lmao). (Oh, and Kaiser would be an even worse boyfriend than Rin, let's be real. One small argument and he's dumping your ass to ""find himself"" like any mediocre fuckboy).

Yes, despite my BLLK obsession I'm keeping up with other mangas! I've been reading One Piece since I was a child, but lately I got invested in Chainsaw man, Choujin X, Kagurabachi, Bungou stray dogs and My hero academia, too. What about you??

Of course, it's totally okay!!

And hello fellow Kaiser fan, great to meetcha!!

And yes. A lot of people mischaracterise Kaiser- either as an Isagi simp (most common in fanfictions) or a complete asshole with no depth.

KaiSagi characterisation tends to be even worse (which, this is NOT me criticising authors at all, people are entitled to write what they enjoy!), but either Kaiser or Isagi gets reduced to a desperate simp trying to get into each other's pants (mostly I have seen this with Kaiser, actually) and that's not very likely.

The charm of KaiSagi is their mutual hate, and the ways they overcome that!

And yes. You hit the nail right on the head! Such unbalanced ships, like KaiNess (SasuSaku or NaruHina from Naruto) are the one kind of ships I can never get behind. Whether it's love or hate, it needs to be mutual for me to enjoy it. Power unbalance is not my thing but different strokes for different folks and all that

And yes, Kaiser currently obsessed with destroying Isagi while all Isagi wants to be is no 1 is a delicious flavour and Kaneshiro is cooking

I need an explanation. Of everything regarding Kaiser. That flashback needs to be longest flashback in the manga. I want a biography I can write a thesis on.

(True!! He definitely isn't a people person. He will most likely be doing a job that requires minimum human contact lol)

(And yeah, Kaiser is such red flag, we'd need rose colored glasses to date him 😝)

Hehe. Fellow CSM fan!! My fav is Denji, and I am eagerly awaiting Season 2!

And although I haven't seen the rest of them, I have they are very good anime as well!

My absolute favourite would be Naruto, as I have been in that fandom for years as well. Apart from that, I am currently keeping up with Solo Leveling and Windbreaker!

(Although listing all the animes I have watched will require a separate post, I watch a lot of them!)

Ps: Your English was lovely, no worries!!

[mangokabuto]

💛💚💙💜

💛: What is a popular ship you just can't get behind, and why?

Ohhh man... I'm going to be murdered if I say "all of them" but. Well. I promise I'm not "different from the other girls" or something LMFAO I just typically can't get behind monogamous ships because they do not interest or intrigue me, usually? It takes some really compelling characters to pull it off in a way that will get me invested. And honestly, I REALLY hate in shipping fanfiction/etc where the shipped-characters-in-question are portrayed as feeling "more" for their partner (singular or plural) than the rest of the crew. I feel this way for One Piece and the strawhats specifically. Like, as soon as I see the "A missed their captain and their crew, but they realized that they missed B more" or "loved B more" I've clocked out. It's just fully not believable to me. Why does romantic always have to be more, instead of just different? This is separate from my bias as a polyamorous person, btw. I'm not fond of the idea that you HAVE to love your romantic partner MOST; Like if you're closer to your best friend than your partner then you've failed somehow?? Or like you're supposed to be less close to your friends once you have a partner?? That's insane to me. And SPECIFICALLY I think it doesn't fit these characters. If there's anyone on the crew that any of them feel "more" for than the others it's Luffy, and they ALL feel that way, and it doesn't interfere with their romantic relationships because that is silly. ...I realize this probably isn't the type of answer you were looking for, haha. For a simpler one: I don't really get the romantic chemistry behind zosan as a ship, unless they're in a polycule with other people. Which is weird, because enemies-to-lovers usually gets me! Also I don't get the romantic chemistry behind lawlu either.

💚: What does everyone else get wrong about your favorite character?

I have several favorite characters honestly, and I haven't been in the fandom long enough to know the most common opinions like that outside of some large-sweeping and very common ones. (So, it's hard for me to answer this question with Franky or Bon Clay.) So, I'll pick an example that involves two of my favorite characters (Usopp and Zoro) I feel very strongly about the platonic divorce arc (Water Seven), and I think a lot of people either don't really understand what Usopp did/was thinking, or don't really understand what Zoro did/was thinking, or both. Which sucks. "Get wrong" is a loaded term, since everyone's entitled to their own opinion/interpretation, ofc, but... I stand FIRM in my belief that if Zoro had not held the line like that, Usopp would not have been able to come back to the crew, and the crew wouldn't have survived it if he came back anyway. Zoro enforced that boundary BECAUSE he loved everyone involved, not because he "hated usopp's cowardice" or whatever the fuck. Usopp decided to leave, and Zoro held him to his word, and there is a lot of respect in that. And Usopp DID fuck up! Bad! He needed to apologize, and the Usopp fans out there who think "Usopp did nothing wrong/shouldn't have needed to apologize" need to unpack why they think so. This isn't to say Zoro and the others did everything right, either. EVERYONE fucked up there, but Usopp fucked up the most! Usopp stans I know there are few of us and we're used to him getting shit on by the fandom, but we need to accept that he really was at fault. And it's good to have a character in fiction who stumbles for understandable reasons, then pushes too far, and then is able to fix what they'd done and mend their relationships. That is a beautiful and important thing to have. (If anything, I think Usopp's apology should have been a little better, but that's just me.)

💙: Which character is not as hot as everyone else seems to think?

I could be here all day. :') I know anything is possible and different strokes for different folks, but I cannot believe THAT MANY people find Sanji and Law THAT attractive. Sanji's popularity baffled me more than law, but still. I know tattoos are hot but come on. Lets be serious. It's just us here I won't be mad tell me the truth

💜: Which character is way hotter than everyone else seems to think?

FOXY. SILVER FOX FOXY. IM IN LOVE WITH HIM DO YOU PEOPLE HEAR ME. SAYING IT LOUDER FOR THE PPL IN THE BACK, HE IS THE LOVE OF MY LIFE!

For my other controversial picks I also think Franky, Jinbe, Mont Blanc, Brook, Big Mom, Blackbeard, Magelllan, World from that one movie, and Borsalino are attractive but those aren't as controversial -- I've seen a couple other people be as open about them -- but no one appreciates my husband. Cowards!!

[biggaybunny]

Modern software sucks shit because modern software development sucks shit. No one knows what they're doing and when they do they'll usually be told to do something else anyway. Non-transferrable skills are treated as transferrable; "programming" is an extremely broad field that we are still just beginning to map out. I'm not trying to oversell it here, I have no agenda, I just need to try and convey some perspective here that you can do a lot of different shit with computers, and lumping it all under "writing software" is kind of like lumping all "machines" together and expecting engineers who work with things like planes, cars, pumps, and cranes to be able to figure each other's shit out. There's some specialization happening in the field, but to be honest, most companies are pretty slow to catch on (outside of, yknow, searching resumes for whatever buzzword we're using now)

That's only the beginning of it, too. I don't know I could actually fit all the reasons software development sucks shit into one post. Basically, businesses hate the way software is made. They want software assembly lines, I've had as much said to me by a manager before. They want software products that are specced out, assembled, and shipped out. And that *really, really* doesn't work. Most of the time, when it comes to developing a software "product", they don't even know what they actually want or need. A lot of software bloat comes from early development work that had to be course corrected or repurposed; it's like being a sculptor and having someone behind you try to describe what they want sculpted, but also they're rushing you and don't understand what's even possible to do with sculpting in the first place.

The other thing companies hate about making software is that you can't throw just throw more people at the problem. It's like that math problem "If an orchestra of 50 people can play Beethoven's 5th in 40 minutes, how fast can an orchestra of 500 people play it?" That's how the people in charge want software to work, and after decades of absolute horseshit business paradigms (agile, kanban, scrum, agile-at-scale, extreme programming yes it's called that, etc) it's very clear that this will NEVER be the case, but by god that's not going to stop companies from trying. Because it's about maximizing profits, right? You couldn't possibly get better returns by like, investing in employee retention (dogshit in the business btw) or employee QoL. Just get more people fresh out of a javascript bootcamp and throw them at the issue until something works. So software development gets diced up into thousands of little pieces that can be worked on simultaneously and then glued back together, and as you'd expect end up as dysfunctional Frankenstein monsters. Plus, none of your employees are actually improving at software development because they're only allowed to see such a small piece of the puzzle.

And at the end, it just has to work. Not be good, work. Which is why companies skimp on QA all the time, and then undermine the QA they do invest in. The corner cutting is everywhere. Because it saves costs, you see. Why invest in QA? Just don't write broken code, obviously (this is not how this works). How much security do we need, really? Corner cut, corner cut, corner cut. Rush, rush, rush. Is it any wonder that the cleanest pieces of software tend to be made by small teams or even individuals, working on their own timeframe?

I could've summed up this entire post with "capitalism sucks" but I wanted to explain more. Software development isn't going to get good in a couple years. It's not going to get good in ten years. It's going to suck absolute shit for the foreseeable future. Corporate software, anyway. Maybe if open-source software got a little more love and support... well, who knows.

[wheredidmyfacego]

So I want to talk about the senate hearing today. I only just watched some highlights, but here's my thoughts anyway.

Actually, I just looked up who the people are who testified and that does temper some of my excitement. Still!

So this was an interview with some whistle blowers who supposedly have first hand knowledge of much of what's been going on in the background. Which really means, these are just some guys making claims. But apparently they're credible enough to get an 8 hour televised senate committee hearing, so I'm going to continue talking about this as though everything they said is true.

I think the most important piece of this is the timeline. Apparently government officials have had knowledge of non-human intelligence since the 30's. There has also been communication with these other lifeforms, not sure if that had a stated start date. Which follows that for at least the past almost 100 years, these lifeforms have been here but staying quiet and hidden. Most likely as some sort of agreement with the officials they've been in contact with.

One thing I thought was interesting was the reluctance to say "extra terrestrial". You could easily chock it up to a scientist not wanting to say without significant evidence, but maybe he has reason to suspect they are in fact terrestrial. With that idea, my mind goes to squids. Super intelligent deep sea squids who have been outpacing humans in technological development.

The other most likely scenario would be if they were from somewhere else in our solar system. The best candidate for that is Europa, the ice moon of Jupiter. Which, if they do have life, is most likely aquatic in nature which kind of still says squids.

The least likely scenario that still has some precedent behind it is that the beings are from Planet X. A "planet" which is as of yet unconfirmed to exist. This being true would lend a lot of credibility to the emerald tablets.

The final possibility is of course outside our solar system. That being true would completely change our understanding of the universe. It also is near impossible to say anything of merit about possible motives.

Here's what I think about those possibilities. I'm going to try to explain why they're here and hanging around as well as why they've agreed to keep quiet for so long. As far as why the human officials want to keep them hidden, the two obvious reasons are preventing public hysteria and getting special access to some limited resource. But really, humans are inherently irrational creatures and do stupid things pretty much constantly. Me included. Anyway.

First, Earth Squids. This is actually the easiest to explain. They also want to explore the universe. The crafts we are finding is them doing tests and trying to create a ship that can traverse outer space, and they're much closer than we are. They would rather not work with humans because we would slow them down and we're fighting all the time. That and our extremely different anatomies make it difficult to develop a craft we could share. That or they don't want to be nuked.

Next up I'll bring up the Anunnaki. Because, again, if that's real, then The Emerald Tablets are very likely to have a good amount of truth to them. They would probably be here with their tail between their legs a bit given the massive failures depicted. Scoping things out and trying to make things better all this time later. They wouldn't want to get too involved for fear of re-fucking things up. It would also make sense with the timeline because they apparently live 100s of Earth years.

The Europan Space Squids are probably the most difficult to theorize on. It would make sense to want to explore the only other place in the solar system with life on it. There are many little reasons to keep quiet, nothing big enough to be obvious enough to state here, at least for what I can think of. Though, if they are actually squids, that changes things significantly. They could not care about humans and being putting their efforts into connecting and possibly rescuing their brethren in the oceans. Or maybe Earth squids are actually from Europa and have been here doing research. It also brings up a less accurate version of the emerald tablets with all that entails.

Those possibilities all have some degree of not fully being extra terrestrial. If they are truly foreign to our planet, the only explanation that really fits is that they're researching. That could mean in a Star Trek scientific way of just wanting to gather knowledge. Or it could be in a opposition way to determine the most efficient method of eradication. This also applies if the Europans are not squids.

Those are my ideas based on what I heard said today. Purely conjecture from a layman. I don't even know how much I believe in any of this, but it's great fun to think about. This is still the most official thing we've seen regarding the existence of non-human intelligent life. I'd love to see it, and now I see a possibility of it in my lifetime. I won't respond quickly but please let me know what you think. Especially if you're not human.

[amazing-spiderling]

What’s some of your favorite characters to write and what’s some of your least favorite?

Friendo, please know that I have been staring at this ask in my inbox for a while and always going "HUH." because it feels like such a big question, sometimes I don't know how to answer it. skfdjs

I think, broadly, my favorite characters to write are going to be the ones who have some attribute I've managed to zero in on with some amount of personal understanding. It doesn't have to be a character I think is "just like me", (I don't know that I've felt that about many if any fictional characters) so much as one that I think I have one or two things in common with that I can focus on in a story. I guess the trick is remembering to focus on lots of aspects of their character so I don't reduce them to just that, though.

As for favorites...

From Metal Gear, I really liked writing from Otacon's POV. While he is brilliant and talented in his own right, in a lot of ways he is the best person to have an outside perspective on the crazy things that are happening in his world. Yes, he's an unparalleled engineer and hacker, but he's surrounded by genetically altered super soldiers pumped full of nanomachines, and it tends to put things in perspective. I think that's why Project Itoh chose to write the MGS4 novelization from his POV. Since I often feel like an observer around people who seem to lead more dramatic and interesting lives, I think I find it enjoyable to write stories with a "friendly outsider" perspective.

For Marvel... I think it's *easier* for me to write for Peter Parker, again, some similarities between us I feel I can tap into with ease, but I think its more *fun* to write Wade. He does get to have all the best banter, and if I want to write a joke that isn't actually that funny, well, then it's just that much more in character. I think I prefer writing Foggy to Matt, again, because of that "involved outsider" thing he has going on. He's emotionally involved in a lot of the goings on, even if he isn't in the middle of things (and then sometimes he is in the middle of things, but that's another issue). I also like writing Foggy in Earth-65 contexts because I think a lot of Murderdock comes from what he isn't saying. If we're inside his head and seeing the reasons behind his actions, some of the mystique is ruined. But if we are sitting on Foggy's shoulders, and only seeing the external (albeit, from someone who has a better understanding of Matt than most) we have to piece things together and make more inferences, and that gives me the chance to drop little breadcrumbs and easter eggs and I LIVE for that.

On the flip side, characters I've had little luck with... ugh. Hm. That's really tricky. I think I don't tend to write the characters I don't have fun with, life is too short. Sometimes it's required though, especially when I'm writing with a partner and we're splitting up the side characters, but even then... it can be fun to write characters I hate and go, UGH, THEY'RE AWFUL. (See: Huey from MGSV)

I guess the most difficult would be characters like Elektra, not because I don't like her- but because I think that we haven't got much in the way of real, solid characterization and motivation for her that doesn't revolve around Matt Murdock. (Well, not counting the Elektra movie, so maybe I should just use that as her model from now on lol.) If I'm totally honest, I feel like a lot of the meta I read about Elektra is from people who have pinged some characteristic within her (like I have for my faves) that doesn't ping for me, so I don't find it relatable or interesting to explore. But I also don't want to throw her into a fic just to make her a bad guy so my ship can kiss, you know? And it's just... bleh, it's a lot of homework, so that's probably why I've avoided it. Does that make me a bad fan? Maybe. I never claimed to be a good one.

[fmafan1111]

I've been thinking about the tattoo a lot, and Berthold's thought process behind the design.

The Sun and the twin snakes represent Roy and Riza; The Red King and the White Queen. There's an intersection of these figures on the tattoo itself, representing the 'Joining of the Red Kind and the White Queen', or the 'Chemical Marriage'.

The Chemical marriage is considered to be one of the most powerful unions in alchemy, producing what is sometimes interpreted as the Philosophers Stone. But I don't think Berthold meant that. He considers flame alchemy to be the most powerful alchemy to exist, so I think he meant it more as 'my daughter has the instructions and my student has the skill, and through their union, the most powerful alchemy will be produced'.

He was shipping his daughter and his student from *at least* just before he designed the tattoo. I believe Berthold was trying to mold Roy not only as his student, but also as a suitable partner for his daughter (total head canon). And he was banking on this so hard, he made it foundational to understanding the tattoo.

Berthold trusted Riza with this knowledge, and trusted her judgement on whether to share flame alchemy with Roy. But I believe that his intention was always to have Riza be a barrier for Roy's character. A barrier that was surpassed much easier than I think Berthold ever intended.

The Chemical Marriage of the Red King and White Queen is often depicted as a courtship, with flowers being exchanged. I believe that when Berthold tattooed Riza, the idea was that Roy would only gain access to this if Riza showed him her body in an intimate context. In Berthold's mind, Roy would have to prove himself as a good enough person for Riza to want to be his partner; She would come to know him, understand him, trust him, respect him, love him, and (assuming Berthold and Amestris culture believed in s*x only after marriage (I have no evidence for this)) marry him.

However, this isn't what happened. Berthold was the reason his own plan was flawed from the beginning. With Berthold's neglect, I don't think he instilled her with a very solid foundation for how someone treats you when they care about you, or a very good example of a good man. Not saying Roy ever treated her or neglected her like her father did, but Riza was probably more sensitive to attention and affection since she was raised with little of either.

Berthold felt so betrayed by Roy joining the military because he had already made the tattoo, he already planned for Roy to be a good enough man for his daughter, and now Roy wasn't, by his standards. But since he had already tattooed Riza, it was out of his hands. He failed at sculpting Roy as much as he failed to care for his daughter.

As far as I remember, Riza showed Roy the tattoo shortly after Berthold's death. My interpretation is that it *was* in an intimate context, but I have a hard time believing courtship was a factor. Both Roy and Riza must've been grieving following Berthold's death, with mixed and confusing emotions involved as well (Riza being neglected and Roy being rejected by Berthold). They were familiar enough with each other, they were vulnerable, and they were both dealing with mixed feelings; they hooked up.

Roy's worthiness to learn flame alchemy wasn't tested by Riza, a responsibility she never asked for. There was no courtship to gain access to the most powerful alchemy in existence, a plan she never agreed to (or fully understood, I imagine). Yet, After the destruction wrought by Roy in Ishval, she nevertheless felt guilty and ashamed for never *being* the barrier her father intended her to be.

So, if this is all true, it makes Berthold's relationship with Riza and the tattoo even more uncomfortable, and he ultimately saw her first as a piece in a plan, a tool, rather than his daughter, a person.

think Arakawa has chosen to make Riza the bearer of the flame alchemy tattoo and have her not know any alchemy (unless I'm forgetting something)? On that subject, how would you describe and judge Riza's relationship with her father? What do you make of him giving her the tattoo but not the actual knowledge? Regarding Roy's relationship with Madame Christmas and his worldviews, how and when do you think he decided to join the army? Was it his 'own' decision, perhaps influenced by someone, or *2*

Continuing from this post. I’m answering question #2 here. See my blog tomorrow for the answer to #3.

Question 1: Why did Arakawa choose to make Riza the bearer of the flame alchemy tattoo and have her not know any alchemy?

Question 2: How would you describe and judge Riza’s relationship with her father? What do you think of him giving her the tattoo but not the actual knowledge?

Question 3: Regarding Roy’s relationship with Madame Christmas and his worldviews, how and when do you think he decided to join the army? Was it his ‘own’ decision, perhaps influenced by someone, do you think Madame Christmas raised him with that in mind / influenced him heavily?

Riza’s relationship with her father, and why he gave her the tattoo but not knowledge of Flame Alchemy.

It’s a complicated relationship between Riza and Berthold, especially if we’re taking material from To the Promised Day in addition to the manga and 2009 anime. I’ve seen fans give different interpretations for the dynamics between these two, and I’ve got my own perspective… that frankly makes my skin crawl. The three characters that make my skin crawl the most in FMA are Shou Tucker, Solf J. Kimblee… and Berthold Hawkeye.

Things that have been confirmed to us about their relationship, from various canonical resources:

Riza’s father didn’t talk to her. He was so engrossed in alchemy that he didn’t take care of himself or see to his daughter’s emotional needs. Riza thought he wasn’t interested in her and she blamed herself for the wall between them.

Riza was afraid of her father in part because he was so passionate in his alchemical studies. The fiery look in his eye was disconcerting when he delved deep into his studies. At the same time, she still was influenced by his alchemy and his beliefs. Riza talks about equivalent exchange, so she obviously learned some about alchemy. She also saw what he could do and wanted to believe that alchemy could be used to improve her country. So even though she was scared of her father’s fervent alchemical pursuits, she also through her father learned to respect and believe in the power of alchemy for good, too.

The biggest ideological difference we see between Riza and Berthold is their stance on the military. Riza respects the military and thinks it can help the citizens for the good. Berthold is wary of the military. He refuses to show Mustang Flame Alchemy because Roy chose to become a soldier. You could speculate that maybe this plays into Berthold not teaching Riza to do Flame Alchemy. But I have a bigger idea, which I’ll get to after my other points.

Riza and Berthold didn’t actively hate each other. Berthold dies asking Mustang to look after his daughter, regretting he didn’t spend time to show her his love. Riza on her own part admits to Edward that she wishes her father were still alive so she could get some reconciliation and closure for her relationship with Berthold. Frankly, the Hawkeye family relationship sings VERY closely to what I’ve seen of abusive irl parental relationships. The parent can love their child and want the best for their child… and still make choices that legitimately cause their kid to suffer. Their child can suffer, and acknowledge that their parent treated them poorly… while still hold some attachment because, “Well, he’s imperfect, but he’s still my father.” It doesn’t excuse Berthold’s lack of attention to his daughter - his neglect - and his actions that made her afraid of him - but it means that there was a complicated dynamic to how they felt about each other.

Berthold trusts Riza with the tattoo. He tells Roy, as he’s dying, “All the notes from my research are held by my daughter. If you promise to use your alchemy with the right intentions, she will let you have it all.” This seems to imply that Berthold trusts Riza would properly judge the character of an alchemist like Roy. And that, through her smart judgment of character and conscience, she’d know whether or not they were “worthy” of being shown Flame Alchemy. Arakawa confirms this outright in the third guidebook.

Riza seems to make a comment, from what I can tell in To the Promised Day, that she didn’t think her father tattooing her was all bad; the tattoo was at least a reason for her and her father not to be completely estranged and closed off.

Berthold tells Mustang (when Roy’s 20 and Riza’s 16) that he completed his research years ago. This very well could mean that he tattooed Riza years ago… when she was a teenager, little more than a child.

With those observations given…

There’s no way that Berthold could have healthily tattooed his daughter.

First off, there’s too much indication of the relationship being… uncomfortable, neglectful, you could call it abusive. Riza being afraid of her father, blaming herself for their distance, being okay with something as dramatic as a tattoo just to be with him a little bit, and especially thinking he didn’t love her… all those are MAJOR red flags.

There are debates I’ve seen in fandom regarding whether or not Riza gave consent for the back tattoo. Honestly, that doesn’t matter, because any possibility is a bad one. He did something uncomfortably terrible even if Berthold didn’t pressure, manipulate, trick, or force her into it. Even if Riza gave direct consent for Berthold to tattoo her back, you’ve got to consider:

This is a lonely girl who wants time with her father. She wants her father to love her. There’s some emotionally questionable reasons for why she might agree to this tattoo. Even moreso, Riza is a child. The MAXIMUM age she could have been was sixteen when the tattoo happened. It’s likely she was younger. Berthold says, “I completed my research years ago” in the English manga and “long, long ago” in FMAB English subs… which means it probably wasn’t in the last two years he finished his alchemy work. That might mean he tattooed her years ago, too, nearer to when he first finished his research. 

Which would have made Riza what? Thirteen?? Twelve????

Regardless: too young.

Sure, maybe the girl happily said, “Sure, that’s okay! I’ll have the tattoo!” Maybe she thought it wasn’t a bad thing at all at the time. But… this is a child. A child. It’s grossly irresponsible at best and deceitful at worst to put a child in this position. By tattooing Riza, Berthold fated a child to carry around an enormous, dangerous, threatening, burdensome secret on her back for her entire life. Even if Berthold tried explaining (which he seems to have done some of, given Riza discusses his motivations at his gravestone), this teen girl wouldn’t understand the full weight she’d have to bear! You’re pulling a child into a horrible burden for the rest of her life, when she’s still too young to understand everything about it.

Yikes.

Note this is an alchemical secret that’s made Berthold - the grown adult who’s the founder of this very alchemy - uncomfortable at times. He says his alchemical technique “is the greatest and most powerful form of alchemy,” and refused to write it down on paper because “he couldn’t risk the destruction of his life’s work or have it fall into the wrong hands.” And if you look at the text of Riza’s tattoo (which can more or less be read in the manga if you squint), it appears to be “Libera Me,” and that says a LOT about what Berthold would have been thinking about his own research.

The meaning of “Libera Me” in English?

Deliver me, O Lord, from death eternal on that fearful day,When the heavens and the earth shall be moved,When thou shalt come to judge the world by fire.

I am made to tremble, and I fear, till the judgment be upon us, and the coming wrath,When the heavens and the earth shall be moved. That day, day of wrath, calamity and misery, day of great and exceeding bitterness,

When thou shalt come to judge the world by fire.Rest eternal grant unto them, O Lord: and let light perpetual shine upon them.

As uncomfortably prophetic as this is to Roy and Riza’s future with Flame Alchemy and Ishval, this is text that Berthold himself would have used and applied first. This shows Berthold is fully aware of how dangerous this alchemy can be. It also suggests he feels fear and guilt for what he’s created. It almost sounds like he’s regretful he researched this at all.

And he still went and put this on his daughter, permanently. He couldn’t just bear his own sin. He made his little girl bear his responsibility and sense of guilt forever. He did this with some sort of conscience, it seems, but… still. The only way I can see to look at this is “yikes.”

It’s a weird relationship. It’s a father estranged from his daughter under the same roof. It’s a man who feels he loves his daughter but never goes around to share that love. It’s a daughter who thinks her father doesn’t like her but wishes she could have his love. It’s a man who thinks his daughter has a good heart and can be trusted with his greatest secrets, but makes her guard his secrets in a fucked up tattoo choice. He puts her in a potentially dangerous position that will - inevitably - cause her struggles and pain. It’s a clash of comprehensible but poorly executed human intentions.

So why didn’t he just teach Riza this alchemy? If he entrusted her with the secret and tattooed it on her back for her “guarding” that’s so messed up, then why couldn’t he have just TOLD her about it?

Well, she would have been a kid, very young. Her maximum age for learning any of this, given the year of his death, was sixteen. And as much as the Elrics are advanced in alchemy before this age, I suspect that in Amestris, it was more common to start learning alchemy your teenaged years, after you’ve gotten a good science education at school and need to begin thinking about a career. Riza’s a little young yet to be learning complex alchemy. And even if Riza could have understood at that young age, she’s still not mature enough to necessarily handle all the implications of this dangerous knowledge. Showing your daughter the actual knowledge of Flame Alchemy wouldn’t have been a good idea. Not that being a paranoid bastard (UNLIKE OTHER NORMAL PARANOID ALCHEMISTS WHO WROTE CODED RESEARCH NOTES) tattooing your daughter is a GOOD idea, either.

Berthold’s caution for others learning his dangerous alchemy also could have gone into his reasoning for tattooing it, but not teaching her how to decode it. He’s got it recorded in a “safe place” (ugh) where you have to strip a teenaged woman half-naked to know the information’s been recorded at all (see why I don’t like this guy) - but he’s also got an extra safety measure: she can’t tell you how to do the alchemy. Someone can’t come up and force her into telling you how it works. It’s another layer of precaution.

I also imagine that Berthold’s antics turned Riza off from pursuing alchemy. Maybe the girl occasionally thought to become an alchemist - it’d mean more time with Dad, after all. But since Berthold and Riza were so emotionally distanced, and Riza was afraid of her father’s alchemical research fervors… she probably wouldn’t have been too keen to study alchemy. Especially not THIS deeply, to the point that she would learn all the ins-and-outs of a new form of probably-pretty-complex alchemy. So yeah, he wouldn’t have just been able to tell her the knowledge.

The one idea Berthold and I agree on is that Flame Alchemy shouldn’t have ever been spread to the military because of its dangerous destructive capabilities. Berthold decides Roy isn’t ready to learn Flame Alchemy because Roy joined the military. In fact, he says it was a waste teaching the young man the basics of alchemy at all!!! Ouch. And yet the first thing Roy and Riza do after Berthold dies? Toss the Amestrian military Flame Alchemy. And what does the Amestrian military do with this? Genocide. Berthold… had a good point here.

So in short, I would agree with Berthold about not sharing the knowledge of Flame Alchemy with Roy or his daughter Riza. But I think it was a shoddy and disturbing move for Berthold to give Riza the tattoo - however that ended up happening. Lots of Berthold’s decisions regarding his daughter are from the mind of someone who perceives his daughter well, but doesn’t do well for her. At all.

[adaginy]

[Part 1] [Part 2] [Part 3] Part 4:

"Okay, if you understand me, then say something," the tech told Kiddo.

"I did not intend to trick you thank you for not leaving me behind please don't eat me," it said in a rush.

Well, the translation dock worked. Jana was sitting on the floor in eir quarters. The tech gave their version of a thumbs-up and departed. "Hon, I promise I won't eat you. I do not feel like I was tricked, just surprised, and that isn't a bad thing. Humans would never leave a child behind, okay?" Ey held out one hand, patting eir lap with the other. "Do you want to sit here? A human child would, I don't know how you roll."

Kiddo sat awkwardly.

"I'm going to tell you some stuff about humans, alright? You can interrupt me at any time if you have questions, or want to tell me how something is different for Peprine." Ey paused. "Actually, do you want -- I'd offer a human kid ice cream but I don't know if you can have that. Is there a food you only get to eat for special occasions? A treat?"

Kiddo's ears twisted back and forth. "One time at an education event we got to try alien foods and there was a human food called, um.. hohonut? I think? Do you know what that is?" "Coconut? A big piece of white stuff?" Kiddo nodded, so Jana looked it up in the kitchen catalog. They could grow them but they came whole, hull and all. Ey ordered it and a glass and a knife, and ordered a hammer and screwdriver from the engineering catalog.

"It'll take a little time and we're going to have fun getting it open. So. Humans. Um. Okay. A human family... Well, a TAOL unit is two, sometimes three bonded adults and any non-adult offspring related to them." TAOL units, traditional and/or legal units, were the galactic council's answer to every species having its own definition of family. And knowing what it entailed made this, talking about humans in an anthropological sort of way, a little easier. "It can get more complicated, but that's a standard unit. But a human TAOL unit doesn't break up just because the children grow up. Some humans pair up for life, and usually offspring will stay in contact with their parents, and their parents' other children, unless there's a reason not to. I still call my mom -- my mother, my female parent, human gender is different from Peprine, I'll explain it later, I gotta make sure the translation dock isn't going to be weird about it -- I still call her all the time. I don't talk to my father, my male parent. And I have a brother, another of my mother's offspring, who --" There was a thump and then a clanging as pods arrived from the kitchens and from engineering. Jana patted and then gently pushed Kiddo off eir lap, and retrieved their goodies. "The good stuff is inside. Usually when humans buy these on earth, this softer outside layer is already gone, so I don't know how to get it off. It'll be an experiment." Ey sat on the floor again, holding the coconut still with eir feet, and swung the claw end of the hammer into it before levering off what it caught. "That works. Okay, questions so far?"

"How are you DOING that?" "This would be heavy for you, eh? Humans are pretty strong for our size, comparatively, I guess. But swinging it like this makes it hit a lot harder, I couldn't push it in by myself, gravity is helping a lot."

Kiddo didn't look like it believed that.

"So, that's how human TAOL units work, but humans also do what we call 'found family', or what a lot of aliens call pack bonding? Have you heard of that? Sthani said you'd heard humans are friends with everyone." "Finding children is normal?" Jana laughed. "Well, not quite. It means sometimes we bond very tightly to... to friends, to people who have been good to us, to people we know need us," ey said pointedly. "But also that we get possessive of things, I guess. Like most ships with a lot of humans will find that the humans get angry if people push the cleaning robots around, things like that. Protective. It's sortof hard to explain, AS a human. To us, it's strange that other species don't do that." The outside hull was mostly off the coconut, and ey reached for the screwdriver and pounded it into one of the "eyes". "Maybe we'll ask Sthani to explain it from a Peprine standpoint." "That wasn't ALIVE was it?" Kiddo was so nauseated it looked like it would melt. "No, no no no. They just look like this. I promise you they aren't." Ey pulled the screwdriver out and pounded it into another eye. "It's a plant. Not an animal. These are just very, very big seeds, so you can see all the little details." Jana rested the punctured coconut over the cup so the water poured out of one of the holes, and stood up to find a towel. "I'm going to do a strong-human thing again. It's going to be loud but you don't need to be scared." Ey wrapped the coconut in the towel and BANG, BANG, BANG, whaled on it with the hammer. "I guess that's how it is a lot of the time. I understand why other species to be scared of us, but they don't need to be scared of us."

Ey unwrapped the coconut, now broken into pieces, and began to hand Kiddo a piece. "Oh, sorry, wait." Ey knifed out chunks, prying and cutting in a way Kiddo couldn't with only two out of eight fingers, to give to it. Ey took a swallow from the cup of coconut water, before offering that too.

"Maybe we're strong because so much earth food is like this. Or maybe it's like this because we're strong. I don't know. Sorry, Kiddo. I'm told we're loud and strong and reckless, we're very difficult to seriously injure... But... We're nice, too. ... On earth there was this old, um, like a holovid but not interactive? from before holovids were a thing. A 'movie', it tells a story about a little girl whose parents have both died, so she's being raised by her sister -- another one of her parents offspring. And the little girl accidentally befriends an alien, thinking it's an earth animal, and the alien is hiding from other aliens, a whole bunch of silly things happen. It's from before we'd met aliens at all, it's all fiction, fake. But the point is, one of the lines from this movie is 'Ohana' -- a word in the little girl's native language --."

Kiddo was staring while it chewed on the piece of coconut.

"Sorry this is getting so complicated. 'Ohana means family. Family means no-one gets left behind.' The movie had so much other stuff in it and that's what humans remember. If you tell a human 'Ohana means family,' they'll say 'Family means no-one gets left behind.' Even humans who haven't seen the movie, they'll have heard other humans say it. I think the whole line is 'no-one gets left behind or forgotten.'" Jana hurriedly tapped "Peprine ear fluid" into eir handheld. Answer: Kiddo was starting to cry. "You're okay, alright? Are you-- are you alright with all of this? If this is too much we can try to find another elder, if --" "No, no, don't leave me behind!" More ear fluid. "Okay. I won't. I won't. I don't want to. That's what I told them on that planet -- you're my kid now, we'll figure it out." Ey shook the bits of coconut shell out of the towel and offered it to Kiddo. "I have two, maybe three more things to talk about today, okay? They're things for you to think about, it's not anything that we have to deal with right now. One," ey held up a finger, "If you want, when you want, we can go talk to engineering-medical and see if they can make you some fake fingers. Humans do it all the time. One of my best friends growing up had a fake leg, it let her walk around and do almost anything someone with two real ones could do."

Kiddo hid its fingerless hand behind the fingers of its partly-fingered hand.

"Two, I think we have to register as a Peprine TAOL unit, but humans also have a method for making kids they aren't biologically related to part of their TAOL unit. So if or when you want, we can also register as a human TAOL unit, maybe after we figure out what that means." Kiddo rubbed its ears with the towel. "Third, when a human has children, then those children are also 'grandchildren' to the adult's parents. The kids call the adult's parents 'grandparents'. And some parents, like my mom, get really excited to be grandparents. So when you're ready, I can tell her she has a grandkid now, and she'll want to meet you or videocall you... and she'll probably buy you all sorts of stuff. Toys and books and treats, things like that." Kiddo's ears lifted (a smile), it understood that. "Oh, and if I accept them that makes her my grandparent?" Jana smiled at it. "Nah, she's your grandmother anyway. I guess she became your grandmother as soon as I said I was keeping you. But it's tradition for grandparents to buy that sort of stuff for the grandkids. It's about affection, not a transaction. And they love it. You're her first grandkid, she's going to go all-out. It's like... like having another Elder whose job isn't to take care of your body, but to try to make sure you're happy."

Wow. Some Elders had multiple kids, but a kid with multiple Elders was something else. "I.. I think I'll like that."

[Part 5]

[utilitycaster]

This is fully just a rant about some prevalent fandom ideas about love and relationships that I have lost patience with. I have put it under a cut, wholly untagged and unrebloggable, so if you clicked it and don't like it...you clicked it. Also this does have fairly vague and oblique spoilers, but still spoilers, for CR episode 3x34.

I will say: I find that the fanon depiction of Imogen and Laudna includes pretty much this whole list (vs other ships that have bits and pieces in the fanon but not the entirety thereof), which is why I absolutely cannot engage with it even as I enjoy many aspects of the canon. I will leave it at that.

Lifespan angst. I think it can be explored well in-game (Keyleth, notably, prior to getting together with Vax, as a woman in her early 20s with the knowledge that she is likely to live nearly two millennia) but I am just left ice-cold by out-of-story lifespan angst. People outlive their partners by decades in real life. It is a reality. It is not angst, it is simply a thing that happens to many, many couples.

And relatedly, the idea that life ends when someone you love dies: I spoke about this already re: Orym and have nothing further to add.

The whole love means never having to say you're sorry/no conflict thing; you do not want to be having screaming fights every day obviously but if you are two separate people with separate personalities there will be disagreements. In a healthy relationship, those disagreements are respectful; but they are still disagreements and there may be apologies involved. Also, sometimes people just get on each others' nerves and that does not mean they don't love each other.

The whole idea that love means understanding a person fully with no need for communication. It does not, and this is one of those things people use to claim their ship is justified because the characters Get Each Other even when the opposite is true, since it by default implies that characters who communicate more are less connected, and means that any single misunderstanding is fatal to a relationship.

The us-against-the-world mentality in which no one else understands in the same way. This one is like...I enjoy a depiction of a toxic relationship in media from time to time - usually not in actual play, but like, I have been known to watch HBO dramas, and also Gossip Girl (2007). But like, in general? This doesn't really have any staying power. It's so isolating and boring to have two characters with no connections to anyone but themselves. It's Tallahassee by The Mountain Goats. It works for a movie or a television season but it wears thin within like 3 episodes of a show like CR. There is a reason the Briarwoods are NPCs and not viewpoint characters, is all I'm saying, and also why they both die like 7 times each.

(The above is also prevalent in bad fanon of platonic relationships; people are so weird about the Mighty Nein parting ways and having their own lives and other connections, even though they are still close friends. Like, a lot of people seem to think found family means you threw the rest of your family out.)

Honestly I think I just hate the concept of there being One Single Soulmate Of All Time which is sort of the secret guiding thread behind most of these anyway. It's dumb and I hate it, which isn't really eloquent but like, what more is there to say. The idea that there is only one person in the world who can ever make you happy sounds grim and horrible to me, and yet it seems to be the driving force underlying so many ships in this fandom, and probably other fandoms, and idk I'm just too old and too pragmatic and have touched too much grass to find this anything but nauseating and stupid.

[eshithepetty]

bold of you to assume that in your own blog you cant post your brainrot about mp100! of course you can, please what are your favorite/least headcanons?

Oh, I assume this is in response to the post where i asked for mp100 discord reccs? In which case - yeah, I know ;^^ it's just more fun to share brainrot in an active discussion ig!! But either way... hm. Headcanons...

Y'know, I had to think for a while cause I've just recently gotten back into mp100, so I've yet to recover all the pieces of mp100 love that I had a few years back, and I don't think on headcanons much... but i guess some I like would be:

Mob and Tsubomi become long distance friends after the end of the manga. I really like the thought of them keeping in touch and Mob, after overcoming the idealized version of her he had in his head, coming to actually get to know her for who she really is, and learning to admire her in a different, more grounded way. I also like to imagine Tsubomi being a bit lonely behind the scenes, searching for genuine connection, and I think she would appreciate this new bond with Mob for that reason. I just love thinking of their hypothetical friendship a lot :)

Teru has npd. Obviously, this isn't some fresh hot take, and one could say this is not even a hc and just a canon fact, but yeah. It all lines up, after all, even what causes npd in a person - excessive praise bordering on idealization from your family/peers, some kind of dissonance in identity (how his powers influence his view of self), childhood trauma (claw targeting him) - I would say even negligence, since he isn't in contact with his parents anymore, and I imagine he hasn't been for a long time. I do wonder about that, too - why exactly they aren't there. They could be dead, or just away, (working abroad is the most common explanation i've heard) - and I think I agree with the second option more, because it would tie in better with his feelings of superiority - as a sort of justification. 'It's fine that my parents left me, because I don't need them anyway - I'm strong and infinitely capable on my own.' But, of course that's false, because it's very clear that he wouldn't have turned out this way if he had had better guidance, as shown through Mob. And I just really love that aspect of him - he's very interesting. And I really appreciate the way his narcissistic tendencies shine through even after Mob shatters his world view, and in how exactly he changes. But if I was to get into all that, it would need it's own post, so i'll just move on.. ;^^

Speaking of Teru's myriad of issues, ig this is where a bit of saltiness comes in? In that, I don't think Terumob would actually work out seamlessly as a relationship. Not as easily as most fics I've read tend to portray it, at least. Which is fine, fics are just there for self indulgence, carry on writing how you wanna write - but if I ever was to write a terumob fic, I guess I would focus more on their communication issues, because I think they would have some of those. Where was that post about how Teru would seek constant validation, but Mob plays his emotions so on the down low that it could get hard for Teru? That. Also, based on the ending of the manga, we know that Mob (???%) still holds some resentment for Teru - understandably, as he nearly killed him. So they would have to work through that, as well as I think that Teru's idealization of Mob could harm their bond in the long run. But overall, I think having to overcome those issues to be together could be really beneficial to them both - Mob in keeping Teru grounded, and Teru in encouraging Mob to be more open. And it's just a ship that is good for introducing that kind of conflict, which is why I like it ^^

On that topic, this is more of a fic idea than a headcanon, but imagine if like. Mob got sick or something and thus had to stay at home for a bit. And the loneliness of it remind him of Mogamiland. And that leads to him reaching out to Teru to fight off those feelings - and as he talks to Teru, Mob learns that the other has lived on his own for years, begins to feel terrible for him, and the discussion spirals from there. i think that would be cool to write out.... now if only my brain wasn't so scrambled lmao (also maybe a fic like that already exists, in which case.... 👀?)

Moving on from terumob - I will go against another popular hc and say that... maybe Reigen doesn't actually have a citrus allergy? Which, it's not a bad explanation for why he threw up that one time, that's funny too lmao, but i just think... maybe it was like. A placebo effect? That made him feel drunk? Apparently that's a thing that can happen, and the implication I think is that Reigen has had a drinking problem in the past (the bartender asking if he should be drinking, leaving the alcohol out of the drink, and such), in which case, maybe it was like that, that the drink, even if not alcoholic, brought back those drunken memories, and coupled with all the stress he was enduring, made him feel sick to his stomach. So yeah. I haven't drunk much alcohol though, so I may be entirely off base on this theory and appear like a fool rn lmao

I like the theory that, part of the reason Shigeo is so powerful, is because he reserves his energy so much in between the 100% meltdowns. Much like how Toichiro was saving energy for years to get that powerful. And it would mean that, if Mob used them more often, he would get less powerful, yes - but i don't think that's necessarily a bad trade off. I would take Mob being able to express his emotions more freely to not being able to kick ass so easily, especially since the implication is that he needs to use his physic powers to express his emotions fully (this meta explains it well) - which means he would not need to hold back so much.... I don't know if I'm making enough sense here, sorry, but yeah!!

Though, on the topic of Mob expressing himself, I don't think he would ever get completely rid of his meltdowns (or his other autistic symptoms lol. Because yeah, firm believer in autistic mob here). It's said (in the manga at least (the LOL arc specifically), unless that was a mistranslation) that he's had trouble emoting like other people since birth, after all, so it's not just a trauma thing - that's something innate to him. And that stuff is not so easily overcome. But I do believe he gets better and feels happier as time goes on, for sure ^^

Speaking of growth, I kind of like the thought of Ritsu and Mob sparring with their psychic powers (all in good fun) in the far, far future, when they've healed enough.... they get to stand on equal ground without fear, finally :> or, if not spars (because maybe that's a bit ooc: despite at points being forced to, Mob would prefer to never, ever fight), they would passively share in psychic knowledge instead, of casually use their powers in brotherly arguments or something. I like the thought of them learning to have silly sibling fights and casually use their powers without harming others or themselves as time goes on.

Also, Reigen has adhd. That's my headcanon. I mean, he flings his arms around constantly (mood), has a myriad of random interests that he's surprisingly good at (possibly past hyperfixations of his), and quit a boring, stifling office job to instead work in an environment that was highly stimulating and allowed him more flexibility and diversity in tasks. It's not the only explanation, but it fits well I think. So... Mob and Reigen 🤝 Adhd and autism solidarity.

I could talk more, but this is already long enough, so I'll leave other hcs for future posts ig ;^^ But this really made me to think more on these characters, thank you so much for this ask <3 Hope you're having a good day anon!!

[knowlesian]

ok, it doesn't look like anyone else asked, but i do want to know what your favorite jokes are (other than the genius crystal one)!!

A MILLION YEARS LATER and while i am drinking starbucks i have none to share, etc etc etc jokes.

and speaking of jokes (what a transition robert evans eat your heart out, shoutout to any other behind the bastards fans) here's another favorite on the list, since i've covered a couple since you sent this as i am wildly behind on asks, oops.

this time it's frenchie's response to stede trying to get everybody to say they'll talk it through as a crew.

(i feel like i read an interview with joel where he said that line was ad-lib, but i also might be entirely misremembering that. if i am not just making that up, as a writer sidenote i love how a lot of the improv moments seem to be done in the style of 'here's the basic thing going on, we will give you space on set to come up with the funniest version of it' nods from the writers. when you've got a cast like this let 'em rip, etc.)

frenchie has this cool thing going on where he's capable of both realistic codeswitching and what i am forced to call narrative codeswitching (mostly because i don't know what else to call it). if we attack things from the lens where ed and his crew switched metaphorical canons from gritty pirate drama to muppets, frenchie is the one who realizes that and asks ed if they're about to die instead of muppeting out about how cool it is that Thee Blackbeard is on their ship.

(in a fun beat since they're the other member of the crew ed keeps around, jim also identifies the potential of non-comedy stabbing but doesn't say anything about it until later, when frenchie has gone back into muppet mode and is nailing his sleeve to the deck.)

so: in order to codeswitch, you have to know how to speak your audience's language and hear what isn't being said. codeswitching is most often talked about in terms of literal language, but it doesn't stop there. behavior and piecing together what's going on behind the scenes nobody talks about are also part of it, because if you want to fit in you have to do what's expected of you; and in order to do that consistently, you have to understand what's expected of you.

whiiiich gets me to the actual joke and why it's even funnier coming from frenchie. because stede may tell other people to talk it through as a crew, but that's never his first move. stede tends to spill his guts when he's pushed into it; sometimes because somebody else went first, sometimes because intense circumstances and/or emotions overwhelm his instinct to lock everything down and insist he's fine.

stede does not talk it through as a crew. stede does backflips more than once to avoid talking things through with a variety of people over the season. stede bottles things up.

which is exactly what frenchie suggests stede wants them to do.

i should add that joel's delivery is great because this whole cast ringers all the way down, every goddamn person, but i'm obsessed with the way that takes a fun joke into a moment of telling us a lot about who frenchie is and what he's capable of, before we know anything else about him other than 'has a lute'.

he may not remember the rhyme, but he does know how to look past what people say to what they actually mean when that becomes necessary.

there's also a fun layer there where in-world we know frenchie learned the fine art of fancy people and their massive aggression because he was around them in a service capacity, so there's an in-world logic reason he is able to real world codeswitch between the world of Real Piracy and the world of aristocracy and think on his feet that echoes the thematic stuff working with the same theme on a more galaxy brain level.

i like this show a loooooot, the end.

[jiangwanyinscatmom]

[1/?] Sorry for venting. I just saw some bad takes that gave me a lot of feelings. Personally, JC stresses me out every time he comes on screen, but I don't mind it when JC fans say fan-typical things like how they like JC because he wears purple, or is grumpy, or they think he's hot, or that they ship x*ch*ng because the cql actors have nice jawlines. They're harmless, fun takes, and while I don't agree with some of them, I see where they're coming from

Hello there anon, vent away as that is what my blog is open for as I love/hate on Jiang Cheng as he is in the plot, as well as all of my beef with what has been done to him for the EN side of the fanbase! I am more than fine listening and engaging with the unsavory "unpopular" discussions of his canon behavior and this goes for anyone of course that needs an open play area. I'll try to engage with what you have sent point by point as succinctly as I can.

[2/?] (some of these are obviously crack, and I am a fan of a few problematic faves). But then there are stans that just have to put other characters down to make JC look good. Like, I think some fans take their freedom of interpretation for granted because most of these takes aren't even labeled 'headcanon,' 'ooc,' or 'crack' anymore. Stans feel that their interpretations are valid, and while they are, valid =/= canon, and they're treating these takes as canon, which becomes popular fanon.

I enjoy Jiang Cheng for what he is, however as I had said it took me another reread to get to my stance of him being the negative mirror to Lan Wangji's positive and my comfort with that for the story once I realized what purpose he served. He is only insofar tragic in regards to his circumstances, but it does not absolve him for what he is at his core (no pun, but I can make a very nice metaphor that even with a piece of Wei Wuxian in him he is still forever unable and unwilling to stand by him equally all while stagnating where as Lan Wangji is able to flourish, grow and mature with nothing of import left from Wei Wuxian in a technical sense). As for ships, I am a little dirty Xicheng whore for fun and can say there is a sense of entertainment for me making it work with two people where one is wildly ignorant and the other wildly rabid. But that is outside of what is established as canon in the work and I always try to keep the two strictly separate due to the skew fanon perpetuates.

3/?] And now, it's not clear what part of the fanon references canon JC or the canon events of mdzs. JC is an asshole; I don't like him as a person, but I do think that he's a complex character motivated by many issues (sup, YeeZY), which makes him fascinating to explore. Unfortunately, erasing his culpability also removes his agency. JC should be allowed to be an asshole character who makes his own decisions even if they're the wrong ones. He has made his own tragedy by constantly casting Wei Wuxian as the villain of his life.

Now thanks to you I will be using YeeZY to forever and now to acknowledge Madam Yu (this is your fault for the new tag). From a standing from storytelling I agree that he is complex in the Jianghu for MDZS. Where in the usual political intrigue of Wuxia, he would be the mustache twirling villain that is outright unforgivable in narration, it is by favor of Wei Wuxian's narration that has an early steeping of empathy for him. And he is not meant to be seen as ultimately sympathetic, the work builds up his hate against Wei Wuxian who tries to rationalize it all several times until he is finally unable to. Jiang Cheng is the antithesis to Lan Wangji and the false bait to get attached to in Wei Wuxian's first life. I will make the note their meeting in Yiling is lukewarm between both as they exchange nothing really in terms of conversation and all pleasantries are left in terms of Jiang Yanli for Wei Wuxian. By this point Wei Wuxian has already switched his yearnings of platonically wanting a part of Jiang Cheng's life, to subconscious romantic inclinations about Lan Wangji and the perceived loss of being in the other's life.

The very point of Jiang Cheng as the deconstruction, is that he has no passion in life despite his apparent exploits because he put a shadow to hang over himself as an excuse to say others think he is not good enough. He has no deeper motivations than pure selfishness by the end of the work and is pure frivolity that he has built up losing the meaning of his sect as a tradition. He had his agency (more than anyone I might add in the work due to his social position) that he used to build his reputation as a passive rich sect leader that has little to do with civilian problems.

4/?] And I think a JC, somehow, that realizes that he did something wrong and is working hard to change for the better and gain self-actualization to become that UWU best jiujiu the stans want him to be, who is ready to talk (not yell at) with WWX, apologize to him, and create a better, healthier relationship with him is a much more powerful reconciliation and happy ending than 'everyone is wrong and mean and they all apologize to JC, which magically gets rid of all his issues'.

He is forced out of culpability in reconciliation because simply put, his audience do not like the reality that relationships fray and dissolve with no further resolution other than we as adults both need to move on for safety and good health. It is not acceptable in real life and fiction is allowed to place that also in it's thematic relationships. He has a small, small spark of recognition at the end of the main story, however he himself seems to choose to ignore it, as change is hard and he has never taken to that well as was foreshadowed with his dogs and the idea of sharing a space with Wei Wuxian. To write this is an awful lot of work into his psyche which is not a nice place, he is a terrible being and downplaying that to make a sugar sweet person does not work instantaneously. He is the one responsible for the entire fallout with Wei Wuxian and he hysterically realizes that even as he tries to continue to blame Wei Wuxian.

The issue that I have with his current stan culture, is that they already view him as something he is not. They play at bicycle with all of the other protagonists that have positive traits that they strip as they see fit; Good affirming loving to children adult Lan Wangji, Self-sacrificing ultimately did it all for love and care Wei Wuxian, Hard exterior but softened to who they consider an annoyance Wen Qing, Loyal as partners in their exploits on the field and always have each others back Wen Ning. They even take Jin Guangyao's persona of playing damsel and using that as a positive to soften up Jiang Cheng into something he has never been for anyone for ships.

[5/5] Also, making WWX/WN/LWJ apologize just makes them look better than JC. Like, stans supposedly love JC, so they ahouldn't be lazy and work hard to give him actual character development. Again, I'm sorry for spamming your ask. It just really baffles me about where they get these 'hot' takes (All I'm going to say is that JC was ungrateful, and WN had a reason verbally dismantle him).

They see this, but, they will spin it in any way to excuse Jiang Cheng due to the story itself showing that he was in the wrong to everyone he flung accusations at and his hate. No one but him is at fault for his spite as he had gotten his revenge on the ones that had ruined Lotus Pier and killed his parents. His own resentment pitted him against good and well meaning people that he refused to help as he mimicked his mother's words about raising their heads higher out of goodness instead of keeping low and staying self-centered. There is the underlying criticism of taking individual arrogance as self-care at the cost of others. Each point that Wen Ning makes is exactly what Jiang Cheng himself knows as he hated Wei Wuxian for being something he could not be or even wanted to be. Jiang Cheng wants kindness but does not understand that kindness to others needs to be selfless and accept the hurt that can come with that in life. He encompasses the fall from the path of buddhist lifestyle, "The Three Poisons" to Wangxian's "Without Envy" at the stories end.

[6/5] P.S. I'm not saying I want reconciliation fics, but I just feel that if stans want JC to have a happy ending, then I think that he should actively work for it. I think it would be interesting to see what force of nature would push him through a character development because throwing a therapist at him would result in a murder.

"I'm not saying I want reconciliation fics, but I just feel that if stans want JC to have a happy ending, then I think that he should actively work for it."

They do not think he has to work for it, they say his tragedy is enough, while heaping accusations against Wei Wuxian and saying his own are not enough to absolve him. Something Wei Wuxian has never denied and told all present they are allowed to forever hate him for what he had done in the past, but that they need to find a way to live in a life that is always moving on. He learned that grudges do nothing once they are absolved and it leaves you with hate with nothing else to do with it once that object is gone. In terms of reconciliation, I do not ever think that either want anything other than a distant peaceful out of each other's life set up. Jiang Cheng does not need Wei Wuxian in his life to be satisfied and never has since he used him as the handicap to hide behind to stay angry and miserable. Being without that fallback opens the world far more for him to change than him ever interacting like an old friend with Wei Wuxian ever again, if he ever had the guts to do that.

[cal-kestis]

You Come Around And The Armor Falls | Din Djarin x Fem!Reader

(Part II of The Aftermath of Losing Everything)

moodboard/sketch/gifs made by me, please don’t repost :)

Summary: You and Din continue your travels across the galaxy. A trip to Tython reveals your path and a stay in Sorgan breaks down Din's barriers. But red-stained visions will lead you both on a dangerous journey you can only hope to survive. (Set after S2) Rating: M (for reasons that will happen eventually)     Word Count: 7105 Warnings/Tags: Soft!Din, Fluff, Angst, Hurt/Comfort, Slow Burn, no use of ‘Y/N’, cuddles, Din tells you more stories about Grogu and gives you a new nickname A/N: This chapter is very soft :’) 

[PART I] // [Read on AO3] // [Series Masterlist]

v.

Tython is a mountainous terrain, a landscape of rocky slopes and bumpy hillsides. 

From the viewport of the cockpit, you see a small mountain with six protruding pillars arranged in a circle on top. That must be the place. 

The Mandalorian — Din — makes a joke about traveling the last stretch with the windows down as he circles around it, chuckling to himself at some secret memory before landing the ship far from the ancient-looking pillars. 

When you exit the ship, he turns to you with his arms outstretched. And when he tells you to grab on, you back away immediately, finally understanding his joke. 

“We can definitely walk,” you argue, shaking your head and strutting past him.

“That’ll take too long,” he sighs, gently taking hold of your wrist until you stop in your tracks. “It would be dark by the time we got there.”

“I don’t give two bantha ticks. There’s no way in Malachor that I’m letting you dangle me through the air like a kriffing womp rat.”

“You say the strangest things when you’re angry,” Din chuckles.

“Don’t you have another jetpack?” You demand, ignoring his comment.

“Even if I did, you haven’t been trained in the Rising Phoenix.”

“The what?”

“Just hold on,” he mutters and you imagine his eyes rolling, a grin on his lips. He pulls your hands toward him, wrapping them around his neck. One of his arms rests on your lower back and the other scoops you up behind your knees, cradling you against his chest. Flames burst from his jetpack, launching the pair of you off the ground ungracefully as he adjusts to carrying another person. Your grip tightens around him for dear life and he can’t fight the smile on his lips when he feels you bury your face into his neck as he flies high above the mountains toward the pillars.

“We are never doing that again,” you say once your feet finally touch the ground.

“Come on. It’s not that bad,” he says, holding your shoulders as you regain your balance. “The kid loved it.”

You scoff, taking in the scene around you. The pillars look much taller up close, towering above you from all sides and pointing to the middle of the round platform where a smooth mound lies dead center. It’s covered in dirt save for the few shrubs that managed to blossom from the dry ground.

“It’s a rock,” you say, unimpressed as you circle the half sphere.

“Seeing Stone,” he corrects.

“Fine. It’s a stone and I’m seeing it,” you say, turning your gaze on him with your hands on your hips.

It's strangely fitting to look at him and see yourself reflected in the beskar, warped and wavy from the curves of his armor. His hands fall to his hips, mirroring your posture.

“So, what happens next?”

“I don’t know… exactly,” he admits with a long sigh. “There aren’t any controls. I just sat Grogu on the stone and something… happened. Ahsoka said if he reached out through the Force, someone might hear him. So, sit and reach,” he commands, gently nudging you toward the stone.

“Nonsense Jedi bantha crap,” you grumble under your breath, ripping another short chuckle from his chest. You smile, sitting cross-legged on the stone.

“Focus,” he says, hands on either of your shoulders before he backs away, remembering how last time, the energy field had knocked him back more times than he’d care to admit.

You close your eyes, concentrating on something you don’t quite understand. Your eyes screw shut tightly, wrinkling the skin between your brows, and you frown.

“Nothing happened.”

A leather-clad thumb trails a gentle line down the furrow between your brows, smoothing the wrinkles by your eyes with a gentleness that tugs your heart so fiercely, you almost fall off the stone.

“It will,” he says softly — confidently.

You open one eye to peek at him, watching as he steps away again and nods, fingers itching to pull his hands back to your face. A blue butterfly appears in front of your nose out of nowhere, another landing on your knee. You watch as they flutter around you in silent encouragement, take a deep breath, and softly close your eyes once more. One clammy palm presses into the stone beneath and you refocus your thoughts, reaching out for one thing: Din.

Din Djarin, a kind, gracious man hidden beneath impenetrable armor. How can someone who never shows his face be the most beautiful person you’ve ever known? You’ve never seen his smile, but you hear it in the baritone of his laughter and teasing. You’ve never seen his eyes but can feel them — concerned, curious, observant, warm — underneath a tinted visor. He gives you pieces of himself in ways that can’t be seen, but in moments that spread heat to your cheeks and flutters to your belly. And he takes little pieces of your heart in exchange. After years of surviving on your own, you never imagined you could care so deeply for another person.

Suddenly, a beam of energy encircles you in blue transparent waves and Din takes a few extra steps back just in case, a triumphant smile on his face as he whispers under his breath, “Good girl.”

He paces back and forth as you sit atop the Seeing Stone for nearly an hour, your eyes gently twitching, fingers brushing together, locked in a deep trance.

“Then, Grogu may choose his path.” Ahsoka’s words echo in his memory.

He wonders what your path is, if it will continue to weave with his or if it leads you far away. He doesn’t let himself hope, doesn’t let himself imagine — knowing full well how it broke his heart the last time.

Finally, he feels the powerful energy wane, your body collapsing over the stone, and he bolts to your side.

“I’m fine,” you assure him with a hand on the side of his helmet. “Just took a lot out of me.”

He nods, keeping silent despite his eagerness to hear what you found.

“Din,” you whisper, his name sounding like the lullabies of his childhood on your smiling lips. “I heard him.”

Din imagines a hooded figure leading you by your hand, leaving him behind.

“I heard Grogu,” you clarify and Din’s helmet whips toward you so violently, the way it slices through the wind is practically audible.

“You heard… Grogu?” He stutters quietly.

“Yes!” You squeak excitedly, standing on your feet, your hands holding tight onto his arms for balance. “He had quite a lot to say,” you laugh, and Din lets out a half-sob, half-chuckle, remembering the time his boy babbled nonsense the entire way from Nevarro to Corvus.

“How is he?” Din whispers so quietly he’s not sure if he spoke at all.

“His master says he’s getting stronger each day.” You wish you could see the pride in Din’s eyes. You know it’s there. “And he misses you, a lot.”

Din holds his breath, visibly fighting back tears.

“But he said he’ll see you again soon, just like you promised.”

You leave out the answer you gave to an invitation to join his master. And you leave out Grogu’s parting request: “Please take care of my father. He shouldn’t be alone.” But you tell Din everything else.

Tears drip down his cheeks and you see the wet drops slip out of his helmet and land on his cowl.

“Did you tell him that I—”

“Yes,” you say, a hand on the side of his helmet. “I told him.”

He wraps his arms around you, pulling you tight against his rapidly beating chest — similar to the way you’d done when he'd allowed you onto his ship.

“Thank you,” he says, helmet pressing against the top of your head, his gratitude rumbling through beskar into your skin.

—

vi.

He doesn’t ask you when you plan to leave him.

You don't give any inclination that you plan to stop traveling the galaxy at his side.

So, you find yourselves together on Sorgan, deciding to lay low for a while.

Sorgan is a swampy, humble planet. Nothing like Tatooine. To you, that makes it all the more beautiful.

Din brings you to a small krill farming village, which only adds to the planet’s enchanting charm. Children run through the fields as their laughter wafts in the air, enveloping you in a soothing balm. Men and women kneel over rivers with woven baskets full of the bouncing blue krill, soft smiles etched into their faces as they work.

When the Mandalorian saunters through the village, the children come bounding up to him in hoards, eager grins and grabby fingers boxing him in until he can’t walk any further. You can’t help but laugh as he visibly sighs before kneeling to greet them, accepting a small pink flower from one of the little girls.

Before you had landed, he’d mentioned visiting this village once or twice before. But it’s clear that he hadn’t just passed through. He’d made an impression. You half expect to find a statue of him in the center of the village after seeing the way the children looked up at him with stars in their eyes.

When the children finally leave to play, you follow several steps behind Din, watching his interactions with curious eyes. A beautiful woman with long, raven hair stops him with a gentle smile, her eyes softening with vast yet familiar constellations reflecting in her irises. It seems like there’s a history between Din and the raven-haired woman — something he’d failed to mention, but you try not to dwell on the uncomfortable way the idea squeezes at your heart.

Whatever Din says to the woman is too quiet to hear from this distance, so you settle for reading his body language. Although he speaks to you far more often now, you find you can understand him even without words.

The woman tilts her chin, a soft smile unwavering on her lips until Din shakes his head, the setting sun reflecting off his helmet as it moves right and left. His shoulders slump and the woman’s smile slips off her face as she reaches a sun-kissed hand toward his elbow and squeezes gently. The woman says something, confidence in her eyes, and Din nods.

Finally, Din glances in your direction and you gravitate toward him without instruction.

“This is Omera,” Din tells you.

The woman — Omera — smiles once again. “Hello. We’re happy to have you both as our guests. I’ll prepare your lodging,” she says, turning on her heel to leave the two of you alone.

“Thank you,” Din says. 

When Omera is out of earshot, you can’t keep the tinge of jealousy out of your voice when you say, “She seems nice.”

“She and this village were very kind to us when Grogu and I came here before. We can trust her.”

You nod, more curious to know what he’d just said to the woman.

“Did you tell her about Grogu?” You ask, wondering if you made accurate observations.

He’s quiet for a moment. “Yes.”

You see his shoulders slump again. Reliving the goodbye is never easy for him.

“It’ll be dark soon,” he says, changing the subject and wordlessly handing you the pink flower one of the children had given him earlier. When you don't take it immediately, he decides to tuck it behind your ear as you do with your pencil, sending a wave of heat down your neck. (Later, when you’re alone, you press the flower between the pages of your drawing pad for safekeeping.) 

“Looks like they’re pitching a fire. Hope you like krill.”

Dinner moves at a slow, peaceful pace, accompanied by friendly voices of storytelling strangers. They regale you with the fantastical tale of the legendary Mandalorian and the fearless former Rebel shock trooper who saved them from a band of pirates and a destructive Walker that stood tall above the trees — the two heroes who not only restored harmony but showed this village how to be brave and how to fight for themselves. You feel at ease sipping on spotchka, listening to stories honoring your friends.

But as the thought passes through your mind, ‘friend’ suddenly becomes the strangest word. It fits Cara Dune, the courageous marshal who you’d met several times on Nevarro, the woman you’d shared drinks and laughs with at cantinas, the warrior you’d trust with your life and Din’s life. But Din, your ‘friend’? The word seems to fall short.

After dinner, the villagers retire to their beds one after the other — leaving you and Din at the fire.

Din looks around at all the families, watching as one father carries his son on his back and a mother cradles a swaddled infant in her arms. He sees Omera and her daughter, Winta, in the distance — their hands joined and swinging between them as the little girl skips toward their humble home.

He clenches and unclenches his fists, the leather gloves silently screeching as the material sticks and peels away from itself again and again. His brows pinch together as he stares down at empty hands — empty hands that had foolishly allowed themselves to get used to holding someone else.

An image pierces his memory: three tiny green claws wrapped around his yellow-tipped thumb.

He blinks, blurry vision refocusing on his hands. Empty. 

You watch him intently, feeling sadness roll off of him in waves, drawing you in until you’re submerged just as deep, crestfallen on his ocean floor.

When the heart breaks, no amount of bacta can heal it. You can’t cauterize the lacerations carved inside of him or stitch the pieces together. But you can let your scarred heart bleed and beat next to his, until the heavy thud, thud, thud, thud evolves into the resilient rhythm of a somber symphony only the two of you know.

He exhales. It’s a weary, crackling sound behind his helmet.

“Sometimes, I wonder if I made the right choice,” he admits quietly like he’s ashamed.

“For him? For Grogu?” You ask.

He nods, the motion almost imperceptible if not for the glint of firelight that flashes off beskar.

“I know you did. Grogu is doing well. He told me himself,” you whisper, opening his clenched fist and molding your fingers between his. “You’re a good man.”

For a moment, the moons and stars disappear at the same time, enveloping you both in inky darkness save for the angry red flames that reflect against his armor. He decides not to speak, not right away, allowing a shivering silence to shroud him as he weighs his next words. The late evening decrescendos into a soft lull of the crackling fire, wind-bristled branches, and a familiar thud, thud, thud, thud.

“Sometimes,” his modulated voice finally rumbles. The dark window of his visor anchors itself on the way your hand completely fills one of his. Then he looks away, beyond the trees, beyond you. “I wonder if that’s true.”

You try to piece the words together yourself, try to make sense of him — how he can’t see what you can see as clearly as the roaring fire.

“What do you mean?”

He sighs, his thumb stroking the back of your hand. “I was scared to take you to Tython,” he admits.

“Because of what happened with Grogu the last time? You defeated Gideon. The Dark Troopers are gone, nothing was going to happen—”

“Not because of that,” he interrupts, taking a breath. “Because I… don’t want you to leave. And I feel selfish because you should be able to go — to train.”

Your heart beats faster at his admission, your mind mulling over his words to make sure you heard them right. A shaking hand reaches for his helmet, pulling his visor to face you.

“Di— Mando,” you whisper, taking a quick glance at the empty village. “I already chose my path at the Seeing Stone. I’m not leaving,” you reveal to him for the first time. You do everything you can to make him believe your words, squeezing his hand tighter, attempting to send your feelings through your skin into him.

“It isn’t right. You should train. You’re so powerful,” he says, almost to himself.

“No, I’m staying with you. And I know it’s right,” you declare, staring into the T-shaped visor where his eyes are. “You said Grogu knew where he was meant to be when he was young. He trained even before he met you. Letting him continue was the right thing to do for him. You did the right thing,” you argue. “But I didn’t go to some fancy Jedi temple. When I was a kid, all I wanted was... to not be alone anymore. And now, I’m not. This is where I’m meant to be.”

You watch as flames dance across his helmet, his body still as he stays silent. Then, suddenly, your body feels warmer than the crackling fire, encircled in his tight embrace. You stay wrapped together like that for several minutes, limbs wound around each other like vines. You almost fall asleep on his shoulder from the peaceful sound of his breath so close to your ear.

“Come on,” he says, the crown of his helmet now resting against your forehead. He gently detaches you from his body as he stands, extending his hand for you to take once again. “It’s late. Let’s go to bed.”

With your hands joined, gently swinging between your bodies, the two of you walk side by side to your shared lodging.

The hut is small and quaint, sparse in decoration but plentiful in necessity. A bed for two sits nestled in the corner of the single room, the soft orange glow of a lamplight casting hazy, billowing shadows against the wall. Din stands on the threshold, shifting his weight between his feet as you explore the room, your fingers gliding across the soft fabric on the bed.

“All clear, Mando. The bed doesn’t bite,” you tease him, his head shaking — probably rolling his eyes — as he closes the door behind him.

“I’ll take the floor,” he says, removing his cape and laying it on the ground.

“That’s ridiculous,” you argue, rolling your eyes this time. “We came to Sorgan to relax. You can’t sleep on the floor.”

“I’ve done worse,” he shrugs. You don’t doubt it.

“I don’t care. There’s plenty of space for both of us. If you don’t sleep on the bed, neither will I,” you resolve, crossing your arms over your chest.

“Who’s being ridiculous now?” He says, a hand on his hip as he stares you down. When you don’t relent, he sighs. “Fine.”

You practically bounce with delight, removing your socks and dusting off your clothes before diving under the plush covers. A breathy moan escapes your lips as your body sinks into the mattress and it freezes him in place on the other side of the room.

“Oh, stars. This is heaven,” you hum.

Din approaches the bed like it’s a rancor crouching in wait to devour him whole. His knee hardly touches the top of the mattress before you’re sitting up with another accusatory glare.

“You’re going to sleep in your armor?” You question incredulously.

He doesn’t want to argue in circles with you again, worried the other villagers may be able to hear, so he sits on the edge of the bed and removes each plate of beskar one by one, save for his helmet. He’s left in a long-sleeved top, dark pants, and woolen socks — his hands the only skin on display after removing his gloves.

He turns on the mattress, his feet resting beside yours as he lays his helmet down on a squishy pillow, facing your curious gaze once more.

“When was the last time someone saw your face?” You whisper.

“Not long ago,” he answers truthfully. “The child.”

“And your Creed?”

“He meant more.”

You nod, understanding full well that the love for another being can easily outweigh any rule or law or virtue or doctrine or belief or obligation.

You tuck your hand beneath your pillow, squinting your eyes as if trying to see through the panes of his helmet. You wonder, not for the first time, what he looks like when he rolls his eyes or laughs or smirks. You wonder if his eyes soften when he looks at you the way you know your eyes do whenever he’s near... if a dimple appears in his cheek just for you. Your knees bend slightly, touching his legs. 

“What happens if you take off your helmet?”

He doesn’t respond right away, as if looking for the correct answer.

“I used to think I could never put it back on,” he says, pain in his voice as the word ‘traitor’ echoes in his mind. “But now, I’m not so sure.”

You hum in acknowledgment, submerging the room into a long gap of silence, your eyes flitting across his covered face, your own features reflected in the silver steel. He watches as you close your eyes and wonders for a moment if you’ve decided to finally sleep. But then, your hand reaches in the direction of the open flame across the room, and with a flick of your wrist, the lamplight extinguishes, enveloping the room in complete darkness.

“You’re good at that,” he comments, a hint of a smile in his voice.

“It comes in handy,” you say, the fabric beneath your shoulder rustling as you shrug.

The room is quiet again, the steady sound of soft breathing filling the small space between your bodies.

“Din?” You whisper.

His eyes close at the sound of his name spoken so delicately by your lips. “Hmm.”

“Do you trust me?”

“Yes,” he answers, not missing a beat.

“I won’t look, I promise. I can’t even see. I just,” you pant as if speaking alone has made you breathless. “I can’t imagine sleeping with a helmet on is all that comfortable. You can take it off. You can trust me.”

Your hand trembles as it blindly reaches for the side of his helmet but his hand immediately traps you there against the beskar. You fear you’ve taken it too far when he pushes your hand back toward your side of the bed.

But then you hear it, the sound of air releasing, a puff of unrestrained breath, metal gently hitting the floor. And then his hand is holding yours again and placing it on his cheek, touching his skin for the first time. His eyelashes flutter against the side of your fingers, closing shut as your other hand tentatively explores the rest of his face.

He’s warm. Soft and rough at the same time. His entire weight leans into your palm and you think, this must be what it feels like to hold the entire universe.

“I never thought—” he suddenly whispers, a jagged inhale, a shaky exhale, his breath touching your lips. “After I lost the kid,” he continues, his thumb caressing your hand on his cheek. “I never thought I’d feel this again.”

You wonder what he means by ‘this.’ Touch? Tenderness? Warmth? Care? Or something much, much deeper?

You desperately wish you could see how he looks in this moment, feeling another person’s skin against his own after depriving himself for so long. Your fingers run across wrinkles and scars and you wonder, not for the first time, how long he’s had to carry these marks and stories all on his own. Your thumb finds the bridge of his nose, trailing down the strong curve until below it, a dense smattering of hair scratches at your skin.

“A mustache?” You ask, amused.

You hear his smile widen when he chuckles. “My father had one.”

It makes your heart ache, remembering the story he told you about his home planet, how his parents had sacrificed their lives to keep him safe. How the siege built his distrust of droids and redirected his faith to the Mandalorians who lifted him out of devastating danger. As you trace his mustache with reverence, you wonder what parts of his mother he wears like armor.

Below that, your thumb drags along the plush outline of his lower lip, from one corner to the other. You swear they’re lifted — at least just slightly. As you move your fingers across his cheeks, you find the shallow dip of a dimple and you smile so big he must be able to see it. His jaw is sharp and prickly, freshly shaved probably the day before. 

As he leans heavily into your hand, you think to yourself how much you want to help carry this weight for him.

“Can you say something?” You ask quietly, your hands still touching his skin, careful not to disturb the bubble you’re in.

“What do you want me to say?” He whispers.

“Hmm,” you respond, enjoying the feeling of his voice rumbling through your hand. “Anything. I just like the way you sound.”

For a second, you think you feel his lips press against your palm.

“Cuyan,” he says, the foreign word tickling your skin.

“What language is that?”

“It’s the tongue of my people: Mando’a,” he explains, his cheek stretching upward under your hand. “It’s not spoken much anymore.”

“It sounds beautiful. What does ‘cuyan’ mean?”

His hand falls into your hair, brushing the strands with his fingers. “It means survivor.”

“Like you,” you smile.

“And you.” 

You smile wider.

“Stars, please keep talking,” you plead, despite the peaceful yawn slipping from your lips. Your hand on his face wraps around his back instead, holding him like a pillow. Nestling your head over his heart, you feel the strong thud, thud, thud, thud against your ear — your own heartbeat starting to synchronize with his. His hand continues combing through your hair, his chest rumbling with a gentle chuckle.

“Kotep means brave,” he whispers, his voice weaving through the hairs at the crown of your head. “I remember the time I introduced you to Cara Dune. We were in a rush but she was taking her time pummeling someone into the dirt. And you rolled your eyes, took the blaster from her belt, set it to stun, and shot him. Then, you smiled, shook Cara’s hand, and said ‘Nice to meet you.’”

“Kotep,” you mumble, half-awake. “Maybe more stupid than kotep.”

“Sometimes, they’re one and the same,” he chuckles, making your entangled bodies shake. “Mirdala means clever. Like when you snuck onto my ship and convinced me to let you join my crew even though I wasn't looking for one. Or when you rewired the jammers so that our ship could scramble Imperial and New Republic codes.”

“Kotyc means strong. When you saved me from that rancor, I was terrified,” he whispers. He tilts his head down, his lips pressing against your hair as he listens to your slow breathing. You’re fast asleep, arms still wound loosely around him, cheek pressed against his chest. But he keeps talking. “Not of the rancor or even of you. You’re so strong, so powerful, just like the kid. I was terrified I’d have to let you go too. Then, you said you want to stay. And I felt so guilty because I was so relieved. But I want you to stay too, truly, for as long as you want, ner kar’ta. Ner kar’ta means my heart.”

He places a gentle kiss on the top of your head.

“Before I met the kid... before I met you, ner kar’ta… I never thought I’d get to have this, whatever this is,” he whispers into your skin. “That was a past life. This is heaven.”

—

vii.

The few nights you stay in Sorgan give you ample time to study his features in the dark, etching them into your mind the way you would on paper.

Every night after the first, he whispers words like cuyan, kotep, mirdala, and kotyc as you fall asleep — some you remember and some you don’t.

When you leave Sorgan, you notice he wears his helmet less. Not outside of the safety of darkness and certainly not outside of the ship. But in quiet, shadowy moments and dim corners of your metal home — he feels comfortable enough to be without it.

He’s giving you a portion of what he knows he can’t fully give to you... not yet. But it’s like he’s inviting you, waiting for your hand to find its place on his cheek once again.

When you retire to your quarters each night, he powers off the lights and whispers, “Good night, ner kar’ta,” faint enough to make you wonder if he means for you to hear it. Ner kar’ta. It’s a beautiful phrase, one from his people’s language. He’d shared it with you that first night he let you know him, feel his skin with its scars and soft expanses. But for the life of you, you can’t remember if he taught you what ner kar’ta means. (You curse that comfortable bed and his warm arms for tempting you to sleep so easily.) The way he says ner kar’ta each time is like a sanctified prayer and you desperately want to know what Divinity has that he wants. 

Sleep had never come easy to you before. Not in your years of lonely nights surrounded by danger on Tatooine. Before you met Din, nightmares had been enemies you kept close like friends. Not by your own will, of course.

But nightmares quickly became scarce foes. Living with Din made you feel safe. He’s a protector, but more than that — he shows you the strength you have inside you like a mirror, his bravery reflected in your eyes. Kotep means brave. You remember that.

But as you feel yourself growing more connected to your powers, the Force, your dreams seem more vivid, more rooted in reality, peculiar prophecies. And nightmares feel like omens.

You have a recurring horror story that plays in your mind in fragmented flashes, pieces you’re too scared to dwell on in the clear light of day for fear they may form a mosaic of your own image, cast away in the vast expanse of space. Alone. Again. 

Tonight, the nightmare visits you and bathes your thoughts in red. You don't recognize the dreamscape from your travels with your Mandalorian, you only see the way it paints everything in a bloody tint and sets your skin on fire. Then, you see Din — hear him yell in agony under the attack of an invisible enemy. But you’re rooted to the ground, your limbs morphing into distorted vines and branches, dry screams ripping through your throat until you can’t make a sound.

“Din!” You gasp, waking up in a cold sweat in your darkened quarters, the desperate sound of your voice echoing through the ship.

“What’s wrong?” Din sprints in, panting as he skids to a stop. He turns on the lights to reveal himself in only his underclothes and helmet, head snapping back and forth as he examines the scene. When nothing seems out of place, his shoulders relax. “Are you okay?”

Your chest heaves as you attempt to steady your breath, not realizing tears are rolling down your face until he comes forward to wipe one from your cheek.

“It was just a dream,” you say, not fully believing your words. “But it felt so real.”

The edge of your thin mattress sinks at the same time you feel his bare hand brush a sweat-slicked strand of hair out of your face. His fingers comb through your hair and settle at the base of your head before he pulls your face into his soft chest. The steady beating of his heart under your cheek immediately helps yours slow down.

“I’m here. You’re safe,” he says, and all you can do is fist your hand in his shirt and hold onto him, anchor yourself in his solid body because it’s not you that you worry about. Not this time. But you don't tell him about the nightmare or the fragments that have been haunting you the past few days. You just listen to the way he breathes in through his nose and sighs through his lips.

“Scoot over,” he whispers, untangling himself from your arms. You sniffle and do as he asks, giving him room to settle under your covers and wrap his arm around your back so you can use his chest as a pillow. “Do you mind getting the lights?”

You chuckle, closing your eyes and levitating the pencil on your drawing pad until it hits the controls for the lights and blankets the room in darkness. Almost immediately, you hear the hiss of Din’s helmet and the light thud of it hitting the floor before you feel his soft hair touching the top of your head.

He holds you, his thumb stroking the skin on your arm, his breaths coming out as warm puffs against your hair. And like those nights in Sorgan, you let your fingers draw smooth shapes into his skin and rest over his heart.

“Do you want to hear about the time I took Grogu to school?” He asks quietly, indulging you with the deep rumble of his rich voice.

You tilt your face upward and try to see his smile in the pitch black, nodding your head so his shirt beneath your cheek rubs against his chest. You want to hear every story about his past as long as he says it with his voice and his hands on your skin.

“I was on Nevarro, just passing through for repairs. And of course, I ended up on a mission at an Imperial base,” he chuckles, sending vibrations through you.

“Of course,” you laugh with him.

“I couldn’t take the kid with me. Karga and Dune brought me to a school, so I left him there for a while.” Your hand raises to his cheek so you can feel that pull of his smile under your fingers. “Mid-mission, I have to bolt from the base, grab my ship, and pick up the kid on the way. I’m in a rush and the educator droid tries to keep me, saying my son stole some poor boy’s snacks. I don’t have any time for the droid to explain more and just mumble sorry and grab the kid. He’s got little blue crumbs all over his cloak and a silver packet of cookies. He ate so much he got sick on the ship when I flew back to help the others near the base.”

You feel Din shake his head, laughing at the memory.

“I had to let him wear one of my tunics while I washed up his clothes. I even tried sewing up the bottom so it would protect his feet better,” he snickers. “Not the best stitching job I’ve done.”

You don't think your heart has ever felt so full and large and ready to burst. You love listening to him talk about Grogu, the fondness in his voice tugging you impossibly closer to him until the two of you blend into one.

“He whined for hours when he finished those cookies.” He muses, lifting one of your hands and drawing lines on your palm with the tip of his finger. “Such a little womp rat.”

“Wonder where he got it from,” you tease, your voice still scratchy from tears but laughing in genuine amusement.

He scoffs, the mirth never leaving his honeyed voice. “I only ever taught him strength, honor, and loyalty.”

“Oh, I’m sure. This is the Way,” you say, attempting to imitate his deep baritone.

“You really like to give me a hard time, don’t you?” He teases.

“Ah,” you grin. “The Jawa calls the Ewok short.”

He stills before bursting into a full-bodied laugh. “I’ve never heard that one before,” he gasps between wheezes.

You laugh with him, your shaking bodies gradually calming into a slow vibration of charged energy. You can’t see it but you feel his eyes looking into yours when his breaths settle down, his thumb now tracing over the slope of your lip.

“Sleep, ner kar’ta,” he says, stroking his fingers over your hair once more. And you desperately want to ask what it means, why he calls you this beautiful phrase. But soon enough, your eyes are closed and he kisses your head before letting sleep take him as well.

When he wakes in the early hours of the morning, your quarters still mostly covered in the ship’s shadows, he gently slides himself out of your hold and tucks you deeper under the covers, before putting his helmet back on and walking to the fresher.

On his way out of your room, he notices a sliver of light peeking through the doorway and a splash of pink catches his eyes. He looks down to find your open drawing pad sitting on your dresser, the pink flower he gave you on Sorgan pressed and dried onto one page.

And on the page beside it is a rough charcoal portrait of a man that looks vaguely like him. The sketched face shares the hooked curve of his nose, a mustache below it covering his lips, and wavy locks atop his head. But the other features are empty, blanks waiting patiently to be filled in once you fully grasp the picture.

Beside the off-white space where his eyes should be, he sees a note in your scribbled handwriting that reads: 

Eye color?

He takes the pencil lying between the stitched binding of the booklet and gives you another piece of himself, writing below your question:

Brown.

— 

viii.

When you wake, you half expect to find your cheek still pressed to a warm, beating chest, strong arms wrapped around your body, perhaps even a charming snore blowing the hair at the top of your head. Instead, when you open your eyes, the space beside you is cold and empty, and you wonder if it had all been a fantasy you’d conjured to erase the nightmare that had plagued you moments before.

But when you slip out of bed and pad over to your door, you spot your drawing pad which you’d left open. And below the question you’d scrawled across the page, you find his answer and can finally put a color to his eyes — a rich, warm, melting hue that fits his gaze so perfectly you think there must be a Maker putting these pieces into motion.

You grab the pencil from the booklet, place it behind your ear, and go to find him.

Leaving your quarters, the ship feels unusually frigid and you hold your arms tightly to retain the residual warmth from the bed covers.

When you walk into the cockpit, you half expect to find Din in his plainclothes again, giving you a chance to wrap your arms around his waist and whisper “good morning” into the soft planes of his chest without his beskar blocking the way. Instead, you find him fully-armored, crouched over with his elbows on his knees, helmet hung low and held between gloved hands. In front of him, a holoprojector loops a message from a pale, uniformed woman.

“Din Djarin,” the grave voice addresses him by his full name, sending shivers down your spine. “Yes, I know exactly who you are. If you don’t want the entire galaxy to put a name to your face, you will help me devise a plan to release Moff Gideon from the New Republic detainment facility. We will send you coordinates to an Imperial base shortly.”

The blue projection vanishes briefly before starting again in a haunting cycle.

“Din,” you whisper, startling him out of his stupor, his helmet whipping around as if ready to take aim and fire. You walk toward him slowly, kneel in front of him with a gentle hand on his knee, and face the holoprojector. “Who is that? How do they know your name?”

He sighs, his helmet falling into his hands once more.

“When Gideon took the kid, I had to make a choice,” he says, voice rough and ragged despite the hours of restful sleep he got the night before. “I snuck into an Imperial rhydonium refinery on Morak to get Gideon’s coordinates from a data terminal. But the terminal required a facial scan.”

“They have your face in Imperial data archives,” you gasp, the understanding poisoning your veins and causing your heart to drop into your stomach.

“They have everything in the archives,” he corrects, his modulated voice distant and detached. “And they’re about to take it all away.”

“No,” you whisper. Standing up suddenly, anger washes over you at his quick defeat. “No! I won’t let them. There must be something we can do.”

“I won’t free Gideon,” Din says, stern and almost frightening in his resolve.

“I’m not saying we break him out,” you respond, hands up in defense. “But there’s always more than one way to skin a womp rat.”

Your heavy footsteps echo in the small space of the cockpit as you pace back and forth. Din’s helmet follows you slowly as you walk in circles and he sees the gears turning in your mind. You pull the pencil behind your ear towards your lips and gnaw at it with your teeth, an action he quickly learned meant not to talk to you lest your brewing idea slips from your skull. The holoprojector repeats its threat over and over, the voice grating against the metal walls until it begins to sound like an endless shriek. And with a roar of frustration, your clenched fist comes flying down onto the holoprojector until the image fizzles away.

“I’ve got it.”

The plan goes as follows: Send the Mandalorian to the Imperial base under the guise of full cooperation and stall the holoprojector Imp for as long as possible. This will give you enough time to sneak in through an air vent (“Or… something.” “Or something?” “Yes, Mando. Whatever’s convenient at that moment!”), find a terminal, and hack the system, wiping every Imperial archive of Din Djarin.

“That’s a horrible plan,” he says.

“It’s not ‘horrible,’” you argue.

“It’s dangerous.”

“You got something better?” You challenge.

His long sigh is enough of an answer.

“So, we’re doing it then,” you say, suddenly a million times more nervous than when you’d laid out your blueprint for him. “Punch in those coordinates. Let’s go pay a visit to some Imps.” [READ PART III]

End Notes: Please support this story with a reblog or comment in the replies! I’d love to know what you think of it so far. :) (Also, I know the Seeing Stone is more of a beacon but let's just say you can talk to other force-sensitives if you meditate deep enough.) Btw, zoom into the moodboard to see the sketch of Din. Should I upload the full size? Mando’a Glossary: Cuyan = survivor [koo-YAHN] Kotep = brave [KOH-tehp] Mirdala = clever [MEER-dah-lah] Kotyc = strong [koh-TEESH] Ner kar’ta = My heart (kar’ta = heart [kah-ROH-ta]; ner = my [nair]) Star Wars slang: The Jawa calls the Ewok short = When somebody comments on or accuses someone else of a fault which the accuser shares.