#but i mean like other than the shipping i think i’ve stayed mostly true to his canon character���
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crescentpaws · 1 month ago
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my sister said she doesn’t like that i made fintan into a twink
but like buddy i didn’t Do anything. i simply took shannon messenger’s vision and projected it onto a canvas. take it up with her, not me
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seasurfacefullofclouds1 · 1 month ago
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I’m an OG fan. I ship L/H but how ships are meant to be - your fave pairing, fun, fantasy, fandom activity, not something to discuss publicly much less with the celebs - but I never interacted much in fandom bc I disliked the bizarre obsession with ships being “real”. The “truth” of their sex/love lives is none of our business & was never their value to me. (i’d be much more interested in the truth about their friendships/coworker dynamics but we’ll never get it.) I drifted from the fandom when they went solo bc I saw how Harry was “Timberlake’ing”. No one seemed to see how calculated & ruthlessly ambitious he is, vapid, & fame obsessed. how he only befriends/dates rich, well-connected people. It’s refreshing to learn that blogs like yours exist - that people see him & see what he did to the other guys. Zayn, Louis, Liam - were all at times villainized and scapegoated while he’s treated like a naive princess who can do no wrong. His interviews are so pointless bc he never answers anything honestly. he’d never admit to being a cokehead who purposely deceived & fucked over the others to make sure he could launch his solo career without competition. Zayn tried to outmaneuver him but didn’t have the powerful team behind him & has too much integrity to ever be the kind of “star” Harry is. tbh I enjoy how much it irks harry that Zayn sees through him. It’s wild how sincere the others stayed, how they matured, how they have bigger priorities than money or fame. Harry mimicked Louis’ personality when they were younger, pretending he couldn’t wait to have kids & marry - when really he just wanted to be as rich, promiscuous, and famous as humanly possible. He bootlicks anyone in showbiz, so he has a glowing reputation in the industry - it’s laughable. “TPWK” unless it’s your bandmates who you can’t deign to acknowledge unless it benefits you - hosting SNL or winning an award? ok, mention the band so you get headlines. But like one of their promo posts or even follow them back on IG? heaven forbid, bc that won’t benefit him more than them. It shows his true character that he’s SO successful but still won’t be openly supportive or even seen with them. I don’t think he’s evil but I do think he’s lost to the industry… which is sad, bc there’s once a lot of sweetness there. His eyes have lost their sparkle; he traded it for “success”.
Hi anon,
I was reading this ask and nodding my head right along each sentence. A lot to unpack here, but mostly you’ve said everything I’ve tried to say. I’m not sure if anyone is listening, to be honest! Like you wrote, blogs who don’t worship Harry never become popular. So here I am talking to the air lol. Insanity.
I don’t think Harry is evil either. I think he realizes the trade-offs now, watching his ex-bandmates’ careers slowly build with intentions very different from his, their old ties fading to nothing except when tragedy yokes them back together. He has gazillions in wealth, industry kissing his feet, a lot of women (+ a few men) fantasizing about him, but nothing inside, the lights gone from his eyes years ago. It must feel awkward to stand next to his bandmates again?
Here’s the thing. I’m sure in every circumstance, forever for the foreseeable future, Louis is always going to be the bigger man and speak well of Harry. No matter how many times Louis refutes the idea of Larry, Louis has always said he’s proud of Harry, and I am sure he means it. 100%. No matter what Harry says or does, Louis considers him part of One Direction, his band, and that concept is sacrosanct to him. “We move as one.”
What Louis has in his heart is worth a million Manchester Co-ops. It is priceless. No one can take it away— no Kardashian money, no Rolling Stone cover, no Anna Wintour, no A-list actress or acting role. Nothing. What Louis has is the feeling of loyalty and unity that is the epitome of the song he wrote, Strong. “I don’t care, I’m not scared of love.” It’s not romantic love, at least not anymore, but what Louis describes in Only The Brave— the love that comes from the deepest pain, from uncomfortable truths, alienation, grief— broken beaks and dead birds— the love that requires moral courage. “Because love is only for the brave.” Louis earned it by going through fire, the love that endures because he chose to respect it, intentionally, over all the other things.
Last, Zayn’s intentionality is also transparent for those who open their eyes and see. I’m glad to see that Zayn is touring, and choosing to play the same smaller venues as Louis when he first started his tour. I’m also glad to see Louis communicating via social media. It’s not actual friendship, but a step! It means so much.
Louis and Zayn aren’t perfect people— far from it— but they chose to stay grounded and chose to preserve some part of their humanity. I know they haven’t always been their best selves. But who they are, especially who Louis is, is so endearing, and so inspiring.
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sapphobolide · 4 months ago
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FFXIVWrite Day 1 — "Steer"
“But why do you do it?” She was six summers old, and full of questions.
There was another riot in the city. Her parents had sent her to stay with Aunt Ealhild and Uncle Gellmar—her mother’s cousin and her husband—at their farm in the Peaks. She didn’t like Ealhild and Gellmar, not as much as she liked Uncle Anselm, who wasn’t really her uncle but her father’s best friend since forever and ever. And she knew what he and her father and her mother would be doing while she was away, they would be trying to keep a bunch of very angry people safe while they shouted and raged at the Mad King, except really they’d be shouting at the palace, because the Mad King never came down to the streets of Ala Mhigo anymore. What she really wanted to know was were they safe, her mother and father and Uncle Anselm, but no one at Aunt Ealhild’s farm could answer that, so she asked other questions instead. Right now she was asking why they castrated billy goats.
“They’re not billies once you do it, they’re wethers.” Stubborn Brook finished untangling a kid that had got itself trapped in a bramblebush, and sent it on its way with a gentle toss. The young goat bleated as it hit the ground, then scrambled away in search of new trouble to get into.
“But why?”
Stubborn rolled her eyes. She was one of Aunt Ealhild’s hired hands, mostly because both her parents were mercenaries and away all the time fighting Lominsan pirates on big Ul’dahn merchant ships and needed somewhere to stay most of the time. She also knew everything, mostly because she was thirteen summers old, but also because she was a Roegadyn and so was already taller than everyone else her age. She brushed off her hands and leaned back against the fence, not even looking at the annoying little Hyur girl from the city she’d been forced to babysit. The sky was full of mountains and no clouds, and sunset turned the air crimson.
“Because they’re too much trouble otherwise,” Stubborn Brook explained. “You let a billy keep his balls, he gets mean, and bossy, and he’ll bother all the nannies. And he’ll stink, too.”
“Wethers don’t do all that?”
“Gods, no! Wethers are sweet, and strong, too. Good pack goats, good for travelling. They’ll get protective of their herd without being possessive about it. They’ll let you know when a nanny’s in heat, ‘cause they’ll still mount ‘em, but they won’t get ‘em heavy and spoil your stock. And they’re good eating, too.”
“Why do you let any of the billies keep their balls, then?”
“Ha! Mam’s asked Papa that before. Only I don’t think it was about goats.”
“Other kinds of beastkin can be wethers?”
“That’s not what—I mean, yes, but they’re not called that. Castrate a chocobo and you get a gelding. Do it to a bull, and that’s a steer.”
“And they all get nicer when you do it?”
“Pretty much. I’ve heard some shite-faces say that a bull what can’t rut is only fit for slaughter, but they must never have had the chance to plow with an ox before. One alone can do the work of six birds.”
“Truly?”
“True as Rhalgr’s aim.”
"And what about with people, what do you call it then?”
Stubborn snorted. “You mean fantasia-seekers?”
“What does that mean?”
“Uncle Anselm? Who does he know?”
“Uh—“ Stubborn looked embarrassed. “Nevermind. I don’t know anything about that.” She shot the younger girl a queer look. “…Though if any of what Ealhild says about your papa’s friend is true, he might know a few.”
“Nevermind, I said!” Stubborn Brook stood up. “I got better things to do than teach a baby city boy how to ranch. Go bother your aunt for a change. I gotta get the rest of the herd in before dark.”
She pouted. She didn’t want to talk to her aunt and uncle—all they did nowadays was try to pretend they weren’t worried about Ala Mhigo. About revolution. She couldn’t stand it. But Stubborn Brook was already walking away, leaving her alone with a score of unanswered questions about steers.
Slowly, the bloody glow in the sky began to dim.
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camels-pen · 8 months ago
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a gift (not a burden)
Ao3 Link | Chapter 1 | Chapter 3
Chapter 2: Stay with me to the end
Alabasta came and went. It felt like they’d been there months, though it was nowhere near that long. Vivi and Carue stayed behind, a predictable if saddening outcome. Robin, a scary woman that could snap Usopp’s neck in his sleep, was allowed to join with hardly a thought as was typical with this crew. 
And, worst of all, now that the danger had passed and Vivi’s country was saved, they were left with plenty of down time as they sailed to the next island. 
Plenty of time for all those pesky feelings and thoughts to rear their ugly heads from the depths that Usopp shoved them in. Plenty of time for Sanji to—
Usopp frantically shook his head.
No—No, it was fine. Great, even! He needed the rest from all these dangerous adventures; they were terrible for his heart. That’s why he finished his breakfast in a flash and took over morning watch, afterall. He needed time to himself, away from the crazy monsters on the ship. He wasn’t running from anyone in particular, no, he just needed to… regroup! Yes, that was it. Usopp just needed to regroup. Refocus his strategy. Re-establish his plan.
Usopp stared at the empty notebook in his hand. A seagull cried in the distance.
Okay, so he never did have a plan for this, but how was he supposed to know that Sanji would ever find out?! Usopp had a system! A perfect system! A (mostly) Luffy-proof system!
And it was ruined! All because Sanji had to have magical fingers that made Usopp putty in his hands.
If Usopp weren’t avoiding—er, regrouping, he would give Sanji a piece of his mind for ruining his system. Stupid, beautiful, kindhearted Sanji. Always ruining his carefully concocted plans.
He pressed a hand to his chest, drawing circles in his overalls.
Stupid Sanji.
A cleared throat made Usopp jump, nearly sending his notebook flying out of the crow’s nest.
“Cook’s being insufferable,” Zoro said, taking a seat with his arms behind his head. 
“R-Really?” Usopp laughed, the sound strained. “Well, you’re more than welcome to hide up here with me! Ah, not that I’m hiding. Why would I be hiding? I’ve got nothing to hide, Zoro, what are you talking about? Ha ha ha.”
Zoro gave a deadpan stare. “Like peas in a pod.”
“Hey—”
He settled back against the mast, closing his eyes. “You two just need to talk about your soulmarks and you’ll be fine. ‘Course he’s too busy twisting himself in knots worrying about something new every five minutes.”
Usopp had a moment to feel surprised—to feel utterly shocked at the fact that Sanji was acting like Usopp himself usually did—before shouting, “Wait, did he tell—?!”
“Anyone with common sense could figure it out. Cook just doesn’t have any.”
Usopp sat back, breathing a big sigh of relief. He would’ve rather Zoro didn’t notice—nor anyone else, for that matter—but as long as Sanji stayed ignorant…
Ah, but that ship had sailed, hadn’t it?
Usopp slumped back against the wall. “The whole reason he’s being ‘insufferable’ is because he saw my mark.” He laughed, the sound a bitter, shaky thing. “I’m pretty sure he’d kill me if I tried to talk to him about how his precious woman-loving self was stuck with a man for a life partner.” His hands grabbed a fistful of his pants. “And even if he could get over being soulmates with a man, he’d still have to accept being stuck with someone like me.”
“What’s that supposed to mean?” Usopp’s hands tightened their grip. “Usopp, you’ve got it twisted. You’re too good for him, not the other way around.”
“You’re just saying that because you don’t like him.”
“Usopp.”
“It’s true!” He dragged his bandana down over his eyes and whined. “He’s probably kicking holes in the wall just thinking about it and I’m gonna be next!” Oh, how Usopp yearned for Sanji to get knocked out so hard that he forgot everything that happened a couple weeks ago. It wasn’t likely to happen before Usopp got murdered in the near future, but a man can dream.
“Then how about this: if you talk to him and he tries to kick you,”—Zoro flicked part of his sword out of its sheath—“I’ll kill him.”
Usopp slowly put his head in his hands. “Thanks, Zoro. That is so very helpful.”
“I mean it.”
“Yes, yes, you’re always willing to try and kill Sanji.”
“No, I mean,”—Usopp looked up, catching Zoro’s steady gaze—“you need to talk to him.”
A lie sat on the tip of his tongue. Easy and automatic. It was so very tempting, to complain of never before seen illnesses and fantastical wonders. Obstacles so bizarre and impossible to overcome that Zoro would have to let Usopp run away from it all as much as he’d like.
It was right there. Waiting for him.
Zoro still stared.
Usopp sighed, hanging his head. 
He didn’t have the time to dwell on it, what with saving Vivi’s country, saying farewell, and welcoming the lovely Miss Robin on their ship. Now that they were back to sailing the Grand Line, however, it all came back full force.
It had to have been Sanji’s mark. It had to be, right? Right. It had to. It had to.
But then, why hide it? Why not tell him from the start? They could’ve talked about it. Could’ve swapped discovery stories. Sanji would’ve showed off his own mark more clearly, let Usopp touch and hold and examine it as much as he wanted.
Did Usopp not… not want him? Think him inadequate somehow? 
Was he disgusted by the fact he was paired with a man? Of course he was, who was Sanji kidding; anyone would be disgusted by that. Men weren’t supposed to be with other men, weren’t supposed to be dainty, weren’t supposed to be homosexual.
Why did the world have to work this way? Why did Sanji have to work this way? To be so tempted by women and men at every turn. To be so disgusting as to infect even his soulmate with such a disgraceful thing. 
Was it just another failure written into his DNA? Something that would follow him for the rest of his life? It was already unbearable before, unacceptable, but now it was suffocating, filling up his lungs as if—
“Sanji, the pot.”
He jumped, cursing as he quickly pulled the smoking pot off the stove, then cursing again as his wrist bumped the burning metal. The pot dropped to the counter with a CLANG as Sanji shook his hand out, quickly moving to run it under cold water.
“Sorry—sorry Robin, dear,” he mumbled, the rushing water nearly drowning him out. He grimaced at the acrid smell filling the galley as he rubbed his wrist under the spray. “Did you want a refill?”
“No thank you, Mr. Cook.” Her eyes flicked once to the countertop, then back to him. “Something on your mind?”
He followed her gaze, a little embarrassed at his rookie mistake, when he noticed a cigarette teetering on the edge of the counter. 
Did he pull one from his box? 
He tapped his breast pocket and found it empty. 
On the edge of his vision, an arm sprouted from the wall, picking up the familiar cardboard from a spot behind the burnt pot. 
Huh. So he did.
He stared at the crushed little thing. 
Unlit and unusable. 
Unwanted and unloved.
A hand found his shoulder. “Mr. Cook?”
He swallowed heavily. “Not… not using my name, like earlier?”
“You didn’t answer the first few times I spoke.”
Sanji hung his head. “Ah, I see. I didn’t mean to ignore you, my dear, I was just…”
A silence fell over them. The hand vanished with the smell of fallen petals.
“Would you like help?”
Sanji stiffened. He should accept—it wouldn’t do to refuse a lady, but—
“With the pot, I mean.”
Sanji breathed a sigh of relief. “No need to worry, I can handle that myself. I had to do it a lot when I was younger. I’m used to it.”
With that, he grabbed a sponge and set himself upon the task. Pot first, spiraling thoughts later.
Pot first. Pot first. Pot first.
“Mr. Cook.”
Just put everything else in a little box like you always do—just shove it in there, ignore it, put it away.
The pot clanged against the counter once more, wobbling back and forth as he registered a strong grip around his wrists, holding them in the air. There were arms sprouted from his elbows, holding each wrist with a tea towel. Belatedly, Sanji registered an itchy burning on his knuckles.
A new hand caught the pot handle. The sponge slipped from Sanji’s grasp with a plop.
“I believe it should cool off first, Mr. Cook,” Robin said. “We don’t want you harming your hands.”
The butter and garlic were a stark, crackling black on an otherwise pristine pot. A mar—a flaw so stark and obvious that anyone could see it despite its vain attempts to hide behind thin metal walls.
“You know, I’ve been told I’m quite good at keeping secrets.”
Patethically thin metal walls. The kind of cookware that ended up with several irreparable cracks and holes when used in a specific environment. 
One of them being polite conversation with a prying lady.
“I’m also skilled with a knife.”
The tension sapped from his body, leaving him nearly limp with relief. He made to refuse again, but paused as that same itchy heat prickled up his hand. 
Robin took up a cutting board.
“Okay, just go up and tell him. Just get it over with, get threatened, and then scream for Zoro when he tries to kill you,” Usopp whispered to himself, pacing back and forth in front of the galley door. “You stared down a guy who called himself a god; this is nothing! Just a few words, one mean look, and you’re gone! Outta there. Donezo. Nothing else required.”
He slowly turned his gaze to the door. A glimpse of blond hair had him ducking with a pounding heart.
“O-Or I could forget about all this, pretend it never happened, and hope Sanji eventually moves on from wanting to maim me.” He nodded to himself. “Yes, solid plan Captain Usopp. We’ll tell Zoro it was a valiant effort, but—”
“Tell Zoro what was a valiant effort?”
Usopp froze. Mechanically, he turned just enough to see Sanji’s face and check that the galley door was, indeed, open. “Oh. Hi, Sanji. I did not see you there. I was just doing Zoro a favour with my new dials.” He swiftly turned to leave. “I will stop bothering you now—”
A heavy hand clapped his shoulder. “Hold it.”
Usopp did his best not to squeak. The weight on his shoulder lightened with a sigh. “I’m not going to fillet you, just… come inside. We need to talk.”
Usopp laughed robotically. “Well, you see. Sanji. I really need to finish up that favour for Zoro. So. We will have to talk some other time.”
He was ready to make a break for it then, take advantage of Sanji’s loosening grip to pull out his patented Usopp Dash and cower in the boys’ dorm—hell, maybe even pay up a handful of berri to hide in the girls’ dorm—but then…
“Please?”
Even before seeing his matching mark, Usopp had never been able to turn down one of Sanji’s requests.
He followed Sanji inside, head hung and dragging his feet as if he were off to the gallows. He might as well be, with the fate that was awaiting him the moment he opened his mouth.
Sanji waited for him to close the door before whirling around and tightly gripping his shoulders. Usopp braced himself to get knee’d in the face. 
“I’m a burnt pot.”
A what? “A what?”
“A burnt pot.”
Usopp stared at Sanji. 
Sanji stared back.
“What the hell are you talking about?”
“The walls are thin, Usopp.”
“Are you worried someone’s gonna listen in on us?”
“No, I—” Sanji groaned, pulling away to drag a hand down his face. “Look, I’m like a crumpled cigarette.”
Usopp put the back of his hand to Sanji’s forehead. “It doesn’t feel like a fever.”
Sanji slapped his hand away, a scowl on his face. “Will you cut that shit out? I’m trying to be sincere here.”
“Are you?” The words slipped from his mouth without a thought, but Usopp already knew the answer. He saw it written in the deep bags under Sanji’s eyes, the empty mugs and fresh coffee stains on the tablecloth, the way his hands jittered. “Did you sleep at all—?”
“I’m sorry.”
Usopp blinked. “You’re… sorry?”
Sanji looked away. “I must’ve scared you off that time in the bath, right? I get it… and I’m sorry.”
Usopp furrowed his brow. He didn’t remember anything beside his overwhelming panic at the time. “Your face didn’t scare me off, if that’s what you mean.”
“No, it’s—” He made a noise of frustration. “I fucked you up.”
Usopp inched a foot backwards. “Did you kick me so hard I forgot about it?”
“I didn’t kicked you! God,”—Sanji ran a hand down his face—“don’t make me spell it out.”
“If you’re gonna keep talking nonsense, then yes, please spell out whatever you’re trying to say.”
Sanji whined. Honest to god whined. 
Usopp held up his hands. “If it’s that bad, you don’t have to tell me, in fact we can just pretend this never happened and—”
“I’m sorry I turned you gay.”
A slow, rolling anger started to well up inside Usopp. In a low, dangerous voice, he said, “Excuse me?”
“I’ve been like this for as long as I can remember,” Sanji quickly added. “Don’t know when it started, but I’d been doing pretty good ignoring it or at least making sure other people didn’t notice. Everything was going pretty great until you guys showed up at the Baratie. Then all of a sudden it got worse and—and I kept it quiet, no one noticed, but…”
Usopp didn’t want to try to parse what he was saying. He wanted to give him a piece of his mind, tear into him. He wanted to—
Sanji sniffled. He looked about ready to cry.
Usopp deflated with a sigh.
“I’ve never really cared about who I crushed on.” Usopp took a seat at the table, suddenly tired down to his bones. “Guys, girls, people who were neither. The outside never really mattered.” He put his cheek in his hand and circled the edge of an empty mug with the tip of his finger. “You didn’t ‘infect me’ or anything, I’ve been like this the whole time. Besides, weren’t you given the soulmate shtick too?”
“Shtick?”
“You know,”—Usopp waved a hand—“how they’re supposed to be really important to you or really similar or whatever. People love to say it’s all about romance, but it doesn’t have to be, if you don’t want that.”
“What if I do want it?” Sanji blurted.
“Bold words from someone who was just apologizing for ‘turning me gay’.”
“I’m serious, I…” He knelt at Usopp’s side. “Usopp, please look at me.”
He sighed, but obliged. “Don’t see how this is going… to…” Usopp trailed off, surprise filling him at the tear tracks staining Sanji’s cheeks, the hopeful look in his eye.
“When I woke up next to you in the galley the other day and saw burns matching mine—when I finally got to the top of that shitty flying ship and you were covered in new burns and that fucking ‘god’ ruined your escape, I…” He reached out a hand, pausing to leave it hovering between them. Usopp didn’t move. Sanji gently cradled his cheek.. “I was terrified. I thought I’d lose the chance to tell you before I’d figured things out.” 
His eyes pinched. “No. More than that, I was just terrified to lose you, Usopp. I’d live the rest of my life just being your friend if it meant I could still spend every day of it by your side.” He rubbed his thumb over Usopp’s cheek. Softly, tenderly. “But I want to be more than that, if you’ll let me.”
“You haven’t slept.” Usopp put his hand over Sanji’s own. “You don’t know what you’re saying.”
Sanji brought his free hand up to Usopp’s other cheek. “Usopp, I know it’ll be hard for you to trust me—hell, I wouldn’t trust me—but please, give me a chance.”
He was forcing himself. He had to be. He was so caught up with the idea of soulmates that he didn’t care who or what he was matched with. He just wanted to blindly follow whatever the universe and adults told him growing up. 
Usopp swallowed around the lump in his throat. “We have time.” Sanji’s brow furrowed and Usopp rushed to add, “Y-You don’t have to force yourself into this just because of a mark. Take your time and think it over.” 
“But… but we’re supposed to—”
There it is, Usopp thought as he plastered on a smile. “We’re already good friends, isn’t that enough?” It had to be enough. “And I’m not telling you to forget about it, just make sure that it’s what you really want.”
A pause. Not long, but long enough. “What about you?”
Usopp waved a hand, laughing like his heart wasn’t splitting in two. “I’ve never believed in all that soulmate stuff. Sure I was curious who had my mark, but that was it.” He shook his head with a sigh, forcing his voice steady. “Don’t know why everyone’s always so caught up on forcing it to be romantic.”
“I… I suppose it’s… possible to have a friend as a soulmate….”
“That settles it.” Usopp pushed himself up from the table and went for the door. “Good talk, Sanji! Let me know when you’ve got an answer.” Please please, let that be never. “I’m going to enjoy the sunshine while it’s still around. Oh, Luffy might barge in the moment I open the door though, he was complaining about being hungry earlier—”
“Wait.”
Usopp turned around, still wearing that fake ass smile. Fuck. 
He clenched his fist. “Usopp, if you—”
“Tell anyone I’ll meet the business end of your shoe? I know that much, Sanji.”
Sanji’s lips thinned. “You didn’t answer my question.”
He shrugged. Sanji saw the tremble in his shoulders. “You’ve gotta know what you want—what you really want—before asking me that, Sanji.”
What he wanted? He wanted to be with his soulmate. To—To finally find the soul he was meant to be with, the person who he could love and cherish and dote on as much as he’d like. To find his other half. 
“I know you like the idea of soulmates,” Usopp said. “I get it, I do. But do you like the idea of me?”
Sanji reared back, as if struck. “Usopp, you have my mark—”
“There, see?” His facade cracked at the edges. “You’re not in it for me. You only see your mark on my chest.”
That—no, Sanji wasn’t—he cared about Usopp. They were best friends! Crewmates! Sanji would do anything to see him safe and happy and well fed! What was wrong with exploring things further? With taking a chance at making good times even better? It had nothing to do with marks and soulmates and following a pre-determined destiny.
Sanji wanted to speak those words—or any number of others that would get Usopp to understand, to listen, to wait—but it all dried up on the tip of his tongue, insincere and insensitive.
Usopp’s shoulders sagged, his eyes falling downcast. “Just. Think about it, okay?”
Still knelt in front of the table, Sanji watched as Usopp quietly left the galley, a swell of guilt in his chest and knowing exactly where he went wrong. 
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the-obnoxious-sibling · 21 days ago
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The same anon! I don’t mean powerscalers! I hate them so much. I meant normal fans who theorise about emotions too, they’re just more… traditional? and not there for shipping. Ughhh it’s hard to give thema name, so I just decided to put “typical” and not powerscaler? You know those good Reddit posts?
“he would’ve found a way to get away from the marines without taking crocodile up on his offer” this is the part I’m not sure about because I’m worried Oda did it mostly because he wants mihawk in zoro fight so he needs to make him stick around.
And the other part I don’t read Mihawk as wanting to be just left alone, he read to me as someone who wants specific type of a person? You know. Someone who can make him have some fun? Like he is loner and I can’t imagine him in a typical crew but he does seek out a lot of people constantly? Like he’s introvert but not complete “LEAVE ME ALL ALONE”? Never got that vibe from him… he’s just bored with most people or don’t think of them as worthy
(the previous ask)
sorry for misunderstanding, anon! i don’t really go to reddit for fandom stuff, so i’m not at all familiar with that type of fan or the way they talk about mihawk.
as to your second paragraph: i’m not really interested in bringing oda’s motivations into this. one piece is a series where i don’t care about the doylist perspective very much, i want to dig into character motivations for their own sake, and not dismiss it as “well, the endgame is approaching, so mihawk has to appear on screen a few times, that way when he and zoro get their big fight it isn’t coming out of nowhere.” that may be true, but i find it takes the fun out of things to reduce side characters to props in service to the protagonists’ story.
and re: your third paragraph: yeah, IMO boredom more than dislike is the right way to think about it. he’s kind of like the great monk on the mountaintop, for years and years everyone who approached him was after the same thing (a fight to prove they’re stronger than him), who wouldn’t get bored by that eventually? especially when none of them are stronger, not even close, and none seem to have any potential to get close. (until…)
it seems to me that, if mihawk ever had close relationships before he was The Greatest Swordsman (other than rivals and witnesses to those rivalries), either those people died or their bond died. i’ve been assuming that someone close to mihawk was killed by the marines because of him, leading him to both keep his distance from ppl and acquire his marine-killer title in revenge—but i acknowledge that’s fully a headcanon. it makes sense to me, but it’s just a theory, and it’ll stay that way unless (until?) we get detailed mihawk backstory in canon.
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thirdemeritus · 2 years ago
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@vileincarnations​  asked  :   How do you describe writing / rp to others? / How do you create an OC? What are your steps for developing an OC? / Is there any fandom you regret exploring? / What are you looking for in a ship?
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1. How do you describe writing / rp to others? Well, when people ask me what my hobbies are, I usually say something like “creative writing”.  I do this mostly because you say role play and the person is like oh sex. When I describe it, I basically tell it like it is. Two people or sometimes more pick or create characters and write stories.
2. How do you create and OC and what are your steps for developing an OC? Sadly and perhaps surprisingly enough, I’ve never created an OC. The closest thing I can come to that is taking a character that has little to no information and making up a large portion of their character. My mind has just never been drawn that direction. 
3. Is there any fandom you regret exploring?  That’s a good question. I don’t think there’s a fandom that I regret being involved with. There are spaces that are certainly better than others and I lose interest in fandoms sometimes, but that’s about it. I try to stay away from Marvel to be honest with you. In general, I like obscure things so I stay away from popular trends in that way. 
4. What are you looking for in a ship? I’m going to answer this in regards to Terzo. I’m looking for a genuine connection for him. I mean, I think most of us are looking for chemistry with our characters but Terzo is a special case of picky. The third is drawn to intimacy and romance but seems to like the idea of it or the aesthetic more than actual true participation. He likes to watch others fall in love. He also searches for partners himself but prefers to keep multiple around at once. I think the only “soulmate” I’ve found for Terzo yet is my good friend’s Cirice. Terzo likes to be with odd, unconventional, and often dorky people. He likes opposites. If you’re socially awkward, Terzo is gonna make fun of you and probably also fall in love with you. 
I suppose I’m looking for a fun ship with that vibe. 
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strangeinvader9 · 2 years ago
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More Than-Wait, What? pt 2
Everything freaking hurt as consciousness came back to me. Trying to navigate a ship that was being bombarded by giant space rocks wasn't the best idea, but it was something I'd had to do. Now I was most likely covered in bruises. Although the pounding in the back of my head meant I was probably concussed. Slowly opening my eyes, I was blinded by the bright lights. I groaned. "Wyvern, turn the lights down," I requested. The lights remained bright, causing me to become slightly irritated. "Wyvern, I said dim the lights!" 
"I'm not sure who you're talking to, but I'm not this Wyvern you're trying to boss around." a voice responded, causing me to go still. That wasn't the computerized voice I'd programmed into my ship. I could think of two explinations for this: one, I was somehow found and the person was treating me and two, this was some weird hallucination. "Am I still on my ship?" I asked.
"No."
I remained silent for a moment, thinking. " I was caught in a meteor shower, in space. I was launched off Earth two weeks ago, been unconscious who knows how long, and popped out of hyperspace god knows where. Is there any chance you're human?"
"There's not and I'm not going to hurt you."
"So, what are you? Vulcan? Xenomorph? You can't be Yeerk, I can audibly hear you. Wookie? Klingon?"
"Cybertronian."
"That's new. Wait. You're not being sarcastic. You're really an alien?"
"To your species, yes. To mine, you're the alien."
I slowly blinked my eyes open and looked around. I was definately in a medical room, but everything was 5-10x bigger than it would need to be for humans. I tried to sit up but flopped back due to the sudden surge of dizziness. "Okay, Cybertronian dude-"
"Ratchet."
"The tool? I'll roll with it. Ratchet, are you the ship's medic?"
"I'm the CMO."
"Oh, good. I'm in good hands then. Anyway, what's my medical status?"
"Cuncussion, bruises and several broken bones."
"Which?"
"Talus, humerous, clavical and your sixth and seventh ribs."
"Broken broken or fractured?"
"Broken, broken."
"Yay."
"You'll be staying here until you're healed."
"Here, the medical room or here, the ship?"
"Is there a difference?"
"The medical room, I never leave this location. The ship, I'm free to meet the rest of the crew."
"The medical room for now. We'll figure out what to do with you after. And you'll likely meeting others of the crew anyway. This IS the medical room."
"True, but I could be in a remote part of the medical room so that I'm hidden from any of the other members."
"You're not."
I noded, looking around some more. Whatever a Cybertronian was, it must've been a massive being  as everything in this room was huge. I felt like I was now a doll left in a kid's room without my own things. "My supplies! Argh!" Remembering the supplies I'd packed, I had tried to get up only to have my injuries force me back down. "Ratchet, do you know if any of my equipment was damaged?"
"No."
"No you don't know or no it's not broken?"
"No I don't know and honestly I don't care. Equipment isn't my priority, you are."
I blinked at that. That was a slightly endearing statement, but by the way he said it, it was more a statement of fact than anything else. Slowly and carefully sitting up, I finally caught sight of who/what I had been talking to. Ratchet was a tall mechanical being that was mostly white with red accents on his hands, arms, shoulders, chest and head, some sort of reflective surface on his chest, a white crest on his forehead that looked like horns and bright blue eyes. I couldn’t see past his waist, but it was probably the same all the way down. It also seemed like the joints in his shoulders were tires. 
“What’s with the look?”
“What? Oh, I don’t mean to stare, but I’ve never seen anything like you.”
“I Imagine not. You’re rather primitive.”
“Well, that’s one thing the movies and tvs got right.”
“What?”
“Your superior, ‘humans are inferior, beneath us’ attitude. You know, just because you’ve invented faster than light travel, and have figured out the way to universal peace-”
Ratchet made a noise that sounded a lot like a snort. “We’re not as peaceful as you might assume.”
“Yeah right. Have you been in a war?”
“Four million years.”
"Four million years? The untold generations-”
“Not generations.”
“I’m sorry?”
“Those of us that were born before the war are five million years old or older. We didn't fight for generations, we fought for years.”
I swore I could hear my brain frying. Sci-fi had prepared me for species that had generations that  were centuries older than humanity, but not  a species itself that was several megaannums old. “I….is it possible you-you’re anywhere near eons?” I stammered.
“Eons? Our planet is older than your galaxy.”
I thought I was gonna pass out, my brain couldn’t fully process that. “I’m….gonna have an aneurism.” I grumbled. 
“You asked,” Ratchet huffed. 
“I know, but I wasn’t expecting that. I surrender, your species is the superior one.”
“Not necessarily. There are some things you can do that we can’t and vice versa.”
“Is it okay if we stop talking? I need a few…..months to process this.”
“You won’t be thinking about it in a few minutes. It’ll sneak up on you every now and again.”
“What are you, a psychologist?”
“No, that’s Rang. I’m a medic more for the body, not the mind.”
“Rang? You guys have such weird names.”
“Oh, like yours is any better? What is your name anyway?”
“Don’t get snippy, I wasn’t trying to be offensive. I’m Alexandra McIntosh, but most people call me Alex.”
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phoenixyfriend · 4 years ago
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Anakin and the Jedi Babies: Where There’s a Whill, There’s a Windu
Context: original post, chrono
(Summary of the AU: Disaster lineage got tossed back in time. Anakin stayed 21-ish, but Obi-Wan and Ahsoka got deaged, took new names for time-travel reasons (Ylliben and Sokanth, or Ben and Soka) and have been officially adopted by Anakin.)
----------------------
“You’re attached.”
“You’re just now noticing?”
Master Windu eyes him for a few long moments, and then joins him on the ground. Anakin can’t help but smirk. There’s something gratifying about having respect from the man, in this life.
“The other members of the council are concerned.”
“And you aren’t?”
“I am, but for other reasons,” Windu says.
Anakin doesn’t meet his eyes, doesn’t even respond for a long minute. He just looks out over the Room of a Thousand Fountains, spread out below them like hundreds of jungles pieced together in a jigsaw of flora. It’s been his favorite room in the Temple since he was a child, and it’s always overwhelming.
“Most of them have accepted that you adopted them because of Mandalorian customs, and that you stayed where you were due to the will of the Force,” Windu continues. “But they are… uncomfortable with how blatantly your attachments show.”
“Mandalorians are loud and refuse shame. It rubbed off.”
“You said you would kill for these children.”
“I’m their father. That’s kind of expected.”
Windu’s expression is tired. A little tired of stress, but mostly tired of Anakin’s shit. “You know what I’m trying to get at.”
“Do I?”
“Skywalker.”
“No, I’m serious. I need you to spell this out. I’ve had a million slightly-contradicting lectures on this topic, and I’ve been told pretty clearly that I misinterpreted a solid half of them. If you want a constructive conversation, you can’t be vague. I’m thirty-three years old and a father of two, Master Windu, so yes, I’m attached. What you mean by that word is going to change where this conversation goes.”
It’s gratifying to see the Master actually think it over.
“Ylliben’s tattoos have been causing the most recent stir,” Windu finally says. “They nearly all relate to family, whether new or old, and the symbolism is concerning to those who are already upset about the Mandalorian upbringing. They worry that he’ll remain too tied to people he grew up with, and unable to maintain neutrality in future diplomatic ventures, or at risk of a fall if one of the people he’s seen fit to memorialize is injured or killed. The assume a similar state of mind may be applicable to your daughter and yourself, especially given the off-color jokes about how possessive your children are about each other.”
“They’re worried about emotional immaturity,” Anakin summarizes. He offers a wan, unimpressed grin. “They do realize he’s fourteen, right? Nobody’s emotionally stable at fourteen. The hormones are out of whack.”
“I’m aware,” Windu grinds out. “And I’m aware that your histories, of war and all such things, make your ties much stronger, but you can see why the Council worries, especially those who are wary of the memories your children carry but won’t explain. I’m the only one you’ve told, Skywalker.”
“Plo and Depa know.”
“Plo and Depa aren’t on the council.”
“Yet.”
“Skywalker.”
He relents. “It’s not about Mandalore, Master Windu. It’s about Tatooine.”
Windu lets that sit for a few moments, and then sighs. “I don’t know enough about Tatooine to parse that.”
“Shmi and I are former slaves,” Anakin says, as bluntly as he can. “I was freed at nine, she at eleven, and for all that we are free, we’re not freeborn. We were born slaves, and raised slaves, and we were freed too late to forget that life. The way we think is always going to be affected by the way we grew up. That applies to all sentients, more or less, but it’s… the slave mentality is completely at odds with Jedi teachings, because Jedi teachings can only be taught in a safe environment.”
Windu nods slowly, and says, “That does make sense, but it’s… forgive me, but that’s why we don’t normally take children older than four.”
“From the perspective of teaching cultural values, that makes sense,” Anakin allows. “Teaching a Jedi child that’s cared for with communal resources that they do not need material things to be happy is fine; trying to convince a slave child of the same, someone who grew up being told they do not deserve material things, and that their owner can take anything at any time, including family? I lived that life, trying to adjust to ascetic Jedi values that coincided poorly with slave rules. I know exactly how poorly that transition can go when the person caring for the child doesn’t know how to handle the points of conflict.”
“Do you regret joining the Jedi?” Windu asks.
Anakin shakes his head. “My Jedi master, bless him, cared, and tried very hard, but he wasn’t ready to handle a kid like me and in hindsight, I know that. He needed grief counseling, and I needed therapy, and neither of us was getting it. I don’t… I don’t believe anyone in the Temple would have known how to handle a kid like me.”
“But you don’t regret it.”
“I was meant to be a Jedi,” Anakin says, as firmly as he can without getting unnecessarily bitchy about it. “My struggles with the Code aside, I was meant to be here. But the Temple doesn’t have any resources for children who come older, and I think… I think you do need that.”
“You just outlined why a child can’t follow the Code if they come from a different enough background,” Windu says.
Anakin shakes his head. “No, that’s not—I think a kid like me can learn to be a Jedi, if a little unconventional, if they’re taught correctly. The desperation to cling to anyone and anything you have can be unlearned. It takes time and effort, but it’s possible. Soka and Ben are good at balancing Tatooine care with Jedi control. If you talk to Ben, you get an entire philosophical breakdown about it, but I’m more concerned with the child psychology, because that’s what could have broken me.”
Windu frowns. “You’re building up to something.”
“I think the Jedi need programs for children found older who can’t become full Jedi,” Anakin asserts. “Even those who cannot reconcile what they absorbed growing up with the Code and Jedi tradition… they, we, need guidance. The Council tried to reject me for being too old, and now that I’m grown I understand why, but… Master Windu, what do you think would have happened to me if I hadn’t had my Master to fight for me, and had been turned away?”
“We’d have looked into placing you back with your mother and, upon finding out that she was still enslaved, secured her freedom,” Master Windu says. “Qui-Gon Jinn had taken responsibility for you, and thus you were a ward of the Temple until such a time as you were safe again. It would have been cruel to keep you from your mother if we were not to raise you a Jedi, and crueler still to allow you to return to slavery.”
“And you think I’d have been safe with her?” Anakin asks. He needs Master Windu to understand this. “You think that would have ended well?”
“You don’t?”
“Ventress,” Anakin says. “Maul. Aurra Sing, even.”
Windu considers that. He looks across the grand, green room of the garden, and finally speaks. “You think you’d have been found and corrupted by a Sith.”
“I’d already helped Naboo win a battle. I was a powerful child with no support system in this respect, eager to please,” Anakin says. “Ventress and Maul both got twisted into Sith Apprentices. Aurra Sing was just a bounty hunter, but… even if the Jedi had never found me, and the Sith remained unaware, do you think I’d have ended up better than Sing? Or would the pressures of slavery have led to my Fall anyway, eventually slaughtering my owner, the Hutts, the entire system of Tatooine’s hells?”
Windu rubs a hand over his forehead. “I understand what you’re getting at.”
“It’s not just me,” Anakin says, as carefully as he can. “Even without the Sith, there are plenty of Force-Sensitive children in terrible situations that are liable to Fall just because of how power is wielded by those at the bottom. Refusing to take on students who are already at risk… the Jedi are meant to monitor Force users to prevent Sith and other dark-aligned people from harming the galaxy. It’s one of our primary duties. If the Jedi are allowing darksiders to rise just because of an age limit…”
“I get it,” Windu says, just a little aggressive. “I understand. Give me a minute.”
Anakin tries to wait. He’s older now, he can do that. He can be patient.
He tries to convince himself that it’s true.
“You have a point,” Master Windu finally allows. “And with the knowledge that the Sith are out there, still, it’s a more salient point than most would think. The EduCorps already has a subdivision for teaching meditative techniques to low-level force users who need to learn shielding but aren’t sensitive enough to be Jedi, or are just too old, but I see your point about encouraging a program for powerful Force-Sensitives that aren’t discovered early enough to integrate into the community in full.”
“And a more comprehensive Search pattern for the Outer Rim?” Anakin suggests. He shrugs at the look he gets. “What? You’ve seen my midicount. I was on Tatooine for almost a decade, and the only reason anyone found me was that Qui-Gon had to crash a ship in the middle of nowhere. I’m sure the Force led him to me, given all the coincidences, but that’s still a solid nine years that nobody did, despite how I apparently ‘shine like the sun’ or whatever.”
“Humble.”
“The last time I took a midichlorian test on a portable counter, it literally broke the device. That’s not arrogance, that’s just absurd.”
Windu looks exhausted by the comment. Anakin can’t bring himself to feel too bad about it.
“What about Jedha?” Anakin suggests instead. “Jedi find the kids, but if they’re too old to be Jedi, we could coordinate with one of the temples at Jedha to see about having them raised in the traditions of the Whills? They’re a little less orthodox, aren’t they?”
“In some respects,” Master Windu says. “More constrained in others, but… it’s a possibility. Most of the overlooked children, yourself included, are from parts of the Outer Rim that aren’t part of the Republic, Skywalker.”
Anakin shrugs. “And many of them would have been happy to be found and collected by a Jedi, even if they couldn’t become Jedi. Not the Dathomiri, since they’ve got their own thing going on, but… from what I know about Ventress, she actually did have a Jedi Master before the situation on Rattatak became… what’s the word… untenable? He died and she was left alone, and she’d been a slave already and it just… did not end well for her. But that was a planet overrun by pirates and warlords, and would have been approved as a planet the Jedi could help without it being a weird colonialism thing… if the Senate weren’t made up of cheapskates, at least.”
“Skywalker.”
“My name isn’t actually a reprimand, you know.”
“You’re not supposed to just say that,” Windu groans, running a hand over his face. “The Senate’s choice in funding is not optimal, but insulting them in that way, even in private—”
“They’re assholes,” Anakin says, and doesn’t let his humor show. “Except my late wife, but she’s not part of the Senate in this time, so I feel no shame in accusing the entire shitshow of being cheapskates.”
Windu looks about ready to push him off the ledge.
“You’re never allowed to go on diplomatic missions, are you?” Windu mutters.
“Unless it’s to Mandalore,” Anakin clarifies. “Also, never send me to Tatooine. Ever. Please. I kriffing hate that planet.”
“I’m going to assume you have plans to kill a Hutt if we ever send you to—”
“Yes.”
“Okay,” Windu sighs. “I’ll discuss this with the Council, see how they feel about reaching out to Jedha for your suggestion regarding the Whills.”
“And you’ll tell them not to worry about my kids?”
“Skywalker, they are never going to stop worrying about your family,” Windu tells him.
“That’s fair.”
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serpenteve · 4 years ago
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why we ship darklina
an essay literally no one asked for
Nobody needs a "reason" to ship Darklina. But considering this is a villain x hero pairing, it got me thinking about why we shipped it in the first place when the narrative and author so badly wanted us to root for the more sensible alternative pairing and why it became the most popular ship of the entire trilogy.
Personally, I find it really interesting (and low-key hilarious) that a lot of the reasons shippers gravitated towards Darklina can be directly traced back to how badly Bardugo bungled Alina's character arc, Mal's entire characterization and narrative role, Nikolai's wasted potential as an alternative love interest, and the noble intentions she gives the the Darkling.
Alina's Character Arc
Alina's character arc doesn't match who she is as a character. I've written more about that in this post, but a lot of readers were introduced to a passive and insecure protagonist who we were expecting to undergo a typical YA coming-of-age character arc where Alina acquires self-acceptance, confidence, and embraces the full breadth of her powers over the course of the trilogy. Instead, Bardugo gave Alina the kind of character arc that's usually deserved for power-hungry anti-heroines or tragic heroes with a fatal flaw to punish.
The plot offers a strange binary: either Alina suppresses and hides her powers and therefore stays away from descending into villainy OR Alina attempts to find Morozova's amplifiers in order to defeat the Darkling but then becomes corrupted by power in the process. Alina's journey to self-acceptance and exploring her own powers are unfortunately entangled with her relationship with the Darkling. The only way she is allowed to move forward through the plot is to succumb to the corrupting influence of the amplifiers.
For better or for worse, the first character to really embrace her powers instead of thinking she's a fraud or that she's weak or that she's an unholy abomination is the Darkling. He's the first person to recognize her power for what it is and accurately judge its potential and implications for the rest of the world. He advocates for her in front of the royal court, in front other Grisha who think she's weak, and even against Baghra who is initially a very ill-tempered mentor with little to no faith in Alina's abilities. He even rather ironically advocates for her even when the heroic person who's supposed to be supporting her (Mal) does not.
At the start of her journey, Alina is insecure and in constant need of assurance and validation. The Darkling's role as her mentor and guide into this unfamiliar world of Grisha makes him the perfect advocate not only for her powers but also to help Alina see her place in the world. However, once he is revealed to be the villain, Alina also fails to realize that it's time for her to advocate for herself and throws the baby out with the bathwater.
Mal's Characterization & Narrative Role
When Alina loses the Darkling as an advocate in S&B, Mal steps up to take this role. Alina is still rather passive for the majority of the first book and it's Mal who originally wants her to have Morozova's stag as an amplifier if it will mean being able to stand against the Darkling. Bardugo intended for him to be a heroic love interest as a foil to the villainous love interest and I believe she mostly succeeds for the first book.
However, because this is a story about punishing Alina's "evil ambition" (despite there being very little evidence of that) Mal is supposed to serve as a voice of reason in the narrative. Once Alina considers the necessity of acquiring more amplifiers to defeat the Darkling, it is Mal's role to warn her of the potential consequences, to remind her of her inner humanity, and to ward against the corrupting influence of Morozova's amplifiers. Mal's declarations that he wants back the old girl he knew without any power is meant to drive an ideological wedge between them, yes, but he's also meant to be Correct™ because, again, Bardugo is writing a story about a corrupted power-hungry heroine who goes too far and needs to be punished rather than the arc we were all expecting and the one that Alina's character needs: a coming-of-age story of self-acceptance and personal growth.
Some point after the backlash of Siege & Storm, Bardugo seems to have become aware of her mistake and attempts to scrub Mal's character to be more sympathetic. There is a bizarre exchange half-way through the third book when Mal finally declares:
"I wasn't afraid of you, Alina. I was afraid of losing you. The girl you were becoming didn't need me anymore, but she's who you were always meant to be."
This is an interesting line because it's a complete reversal of Mal's narrative role so far. He's supposed to be her voice of reason that opposes her at every turn but readers interpreted him as being resentful of Alina's powers and angry that she was no longer dependent on him. Bardugo is forced to retcon Mal's entire role in the narrative from being a voice of reason that opposes Alina's quest for power to a supportive friend who will fight by her side. But this was never her initial intention and I believe this change was brought on 100% by audience reaction because she failed to understand the arc her heroine needed and the kind of story her audience was anticipating for such a character.
Needless to say, having your heroine's main love interest actively resent her quest for power until half-way through the third damn book did not endear many readers to Mal. Because Bardugo failed to understand the kind of character development her heroine needed and failed to understand audience expectations, we hated Mal. He became the embodiment of every toxic chauvinist we'd ever met who can't stand the idea of his partner's success and feels entitled to be the center of her universe. He was not the voice of reason. He was an annoying gnat hellbent on dragging the heroine down and away from her destiny. We did not want to root for him. Even the villain was more sympathetic than him because he could bring her closer to achieving the self-acceptance the narrative was obsessed with denying her.
Nikolai's Wasted Potential as a Solid Love Interest
Nikolai plays several roles in Alina's journey but most importantly in our discussions for why we ended up shipping Darklina, his entire potential as a serious love interest is wasted.
When we meet Nikolai, we have hitched our wagons to the Darklina train because despite being the villain, the Darkling is the only one who will allow the heroine to accept her powers and come into her own. Her heroic love interest, Mal, is actively sabotaging her efforts and holding her back from her true potential. But then, in swoops Nikolai and we pause, wondering if there may be a better heroic alternative after all?
In a lot of ways, Nikolai and the Darkling alike: they are eager for Alina's power and see her as a solution to all their problems. They may want to use Alina to prop up their own agendas, but unlike Mal, Alina's summoning powers are a massive plus, not a burden. Nikolai is the heroic alternative to our villainous Aleksander. So we wait, wondering if Nikolai will be the one to fix this mess of a romantic subplot. His royal connections offer an easy path to upwards mobility for our heroine and we sense that an alliance between them (even if it's initially political in nature) may bring our heroine closer to obtaining more power, influence, and self-acceptance not only for herself, but also for the oppressed minority she is a part of.
But, again, Bardugo is still obsessed with that "punish the heroine for wanting power" agenda so while Nikolai exists as another mentor figure who offers Alina advice on how to rule, how to appeal to other people, how to charm, how to win people over, and Alina learns and applies much of what she learns from him, he is not treated as a real love interest.
Despite Nikolai being written as a fairy tale prince (handsome, charming, smart as a whip, brave in battle, etc) Alina never actually considers him romantically. They are friends and allies at best and the only time she considers kissing him is only when she's pissed about Mal.
Nikolai's proposal at the end of Ruin & Rising feels like one last saving grace, one last opportunity for our heroine to take control of her life and make a dramatic change to break from the past. But this too is rejected because Alina's arc will never let her access any power. She does not reject Nikolai because she wants to marry for love. She rejects him because she has been "punished" for wanting power and has internalized that she must not seek any more power for fear of angering the plot gods (and Bardugo). She must return to being nobody in order to remain a good and moral person.
(And, of course, we resent Mal even more because who in their right mind would choose him over Nikolai? Once again, he becomes a roadblock on our heroine's journey to power. We grow irritated that the heroine is failing to grasp an opportunity to elevate herself. We throw the book against the wall. Why are we even following this heroine?)
The Darkling's Motivations
Still, all of the above might still not have been enough to pull the reader to the villain's side. But the Darkling is the living embodiment of Villain Has A Point™. He is not pure unadulterated evil. He is not Lord Sauron or Voldemort or the Terminator.
He's more Magneto, Roy Batty, or Ozymandias---a man who is part of an oppressed minority who longs for justice and power but is absolutely unhinged in his methods.
Alina runs away because she does not want to be a non-consenting weapon in hands. But we always end up wondering what would have happened had Baghra not warned her. What would have happened if Alina gladly joined the Darkling's side? There's hundreds of fanfics written precisely about this situation because despite the villainy of his methods, we wonder if Ravka might not have been safer after all?
If the Darkling had used the Fold as a weapon against Fjerda and Shu Han, would any of the problems Ravka faces in the later books even exist? Would any Grisha fall victim to the khergud programs or be killed as witches? The Darkling wipes out Novokribirsk and kills hundreds of lives, but how many would he have saved with the Fold as Ravka's greatest shield and sword? 🤷🏽‍♀️
And therein lies the problem with the trilogy inconsistent moral landscape. The Darkling is an anti-villain that exists in a narrative that is very black and white, unlike the rest of the books in the Grishaverse where our protagonists are anti-heroes who kill, steal, and torture their way through the plot with nary a judgmental glance from the narrative. We long to see our heroine give in to her dark side and get her hands dirty because watching a naive, passive, scared little girl grow into a ruthless powerful Grisha would have made for a hell of a compelling story.
But that's not the story Bardugo wanted to tell.
The Greg Trilogy
Despite taking place in a fantasy Tsartist setting, the Grisha trilogy is oddly anti-Grisha. The narrative doesn't spend much time trying to examine the context or implications of an oppressed minority group fighting for power other than to say "magic powers = evil". Nikolai skates by on a throne of inherited wealth, privilege, and imperialism but it's okay because he's charming and witty and the only monstrous part of him is the Darkling's curse. Literally everything is worse for Ravka and their Grisha after the destruction of the Fold but Ravka must move forward into a new age without relying on Grisha power but putting their efforts into new muggle technologies. Alina must be stripped of her powers and returned to her "old self" in order to be purged of evil.
Basically, it's all one gigantic ✨ dumpster fire ✨ of mismatched character arcs, incompatible moral aesops, inconsistent characterizations, wasted potential, unexamined plot points but it's a a dumpster fire we lovingly and spitefully embrace in fanfic.
We don't ship Alina with the Darkling because we're stupid abuse apologists who somehow missed the giant flashing moral aesop of the books---and honestly, who could have possibly missed them when it's shoved in the reader's face every other chapter? We ship Alina with the Darkling because the entire ship is the embodiment of wasted potential (and wasted ✨aesthetics✨ tbqh 👀). We ship Alina with the Darkling because we're sick and tired of stories where female power is demonized. We ship Alina with the Darkling because the plot gave us literally no other alternative to see our heroine succeed except to give in to her alleged villainy.
But most of all, people ship Darklina because Leigh Bardugo utterly failed in writing the story she intended to write because had she succeeded, Darklina would not be the most popular ship of the trilogy.
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makeste · 3 years ago
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I saw this take on twitter about Hana & Kacchan having “reverse parallels” and since they both have apologised to Tenko/Deku (but one was more or less sincere and the other was absolutely sincere) and they said that, while Hana moved away from Tenko, Kacchan ran to catch Deku. There was also more to the thread abt Kacchan & Hana’s differences. They were sorta trying to argue that this is a clue that Hori intends for Bkdk to be sibling-like/brotherly. As a bkdk shipped, I’ve accepted that it makes sense.. cause it’s an established fact that Tenko & Deku parallel each other. Tenko having his own “Kacchan” makes sense. Tho yes I am a little sad since I’ve held a little bit of hope for romantic bkdk becoming canon. I just wanted to ask your opinion if Hana was really meant to foil Kacchan or was it just a reach?
okay so I have a couple responses to this.
1. while it's true that Horikoshi has woven a lot of deliberate parallels between Deku and Tenko's characters, that doesn't mean every single thing about their lives and every single person they interact with is a part of those parallels. which is to say that no, I don't really think Hana and Kacchan are meant to mirror each other in any kind of significant way. Hana's apology to Tenko was under completely different circumstances than Kacchan's apology to Deku; I really don't see any connection between the two situations. you might as well be trying to compare Hana to Endeavor, or Deku, or Hawks, or Aizawa, or any other character who's apologized to anyone over the course of the story.
2. please pardon the forthcoming rant, anon -- and I hope you know that none of this is aimed at you in particular -- but for me personally, this whole obsession with ships becoming canon is one of the most exasperating types of discourse there is. like, don't get me wrong, I totally understand people wanting to see their favorite ships validated by the author, and not to mention there's also the issue of having more LGBTQ+ representation. but speaking as someone whose own orientation (aromantic) has almost no representation in fiction whatsoever, it gets frustrating to see so many people dismiss non-romantic relationships as being an inferior type of ship, to the extent that calling a relationship "sibling-like" is now a commonly-used attack in ship wars. so many people view romance as this completely transformative element, to the point where two characters can literally tick every other box on the intimate personal relationship checklist, and none of it will matter to some people unless they actually confess their love and kiss.
and again, I'm not saying I don't understand it, especially since queerbating is a thing. it's one thing if a writer is genuinely just trying to portray a close friendship, especially in series where romance isn't really a focus. but it's another thing entirely if a writer is deliberately hinting at a romance in a blatant bid to attract a larger queer audience, while all the while having no intention whatsoever of having those hints lead anywhere. the issue, I guess, is that it's not always easy to tell which scenarios are the former, and which are the latter. and of course, you also have people who think that the former is a type of cop-out as well, because the thing is that romance is always viewed as the default. so for a lot of people, allosexual and alloromantic relationships are the only ones that get considered as far as representation goes.
but you know what, I'm just gonna say it; even knowing where people are coming from, it's still discouraging to know that so many people are so dismissive of aro and ace relationships that the thought of a favorite ship not becoming romantic in canon is considered a profound disappointment. and it's even more discouraging that the thought of a rival ship becoming canon is considered such an existential threat to some that they will literally use "oh, they're just like siblings" as an argument against the ship, rather than a point in favor of. because siblings are a downgrade. friendship is a downgrade. any kind of close relationship that isn't inherently romantic or sexual in nature is less important, and that's just how it is.
so yeah, that's kind of a pet peeve, ngl. especially since the truth is I actually do think Bakugou and Deku's relationship is very akin to siblings. and so I do sometimes get weary of not being able to just outright say that without having to first pepper the statement with all kinds of disclaimers so that people don't think I'm invalidating the ship. I feel like I have to walk on eggshells if I ever want to talk about their relationship in terms that I can personally relate to.
but I mean, here's how I look at it. they've known each other since they were small children. they call each other exclusively (or almost exclusively) by childhood nicknames. they have an openness and an unspoken, almost taken-for-granted trust in each other to the point where they'll share closely guarded secrets ("I got my quirk from someone else") and personal vulnerabilities ("why was I the one who ended All Might?") with barely a second's hesitation which they would never share with anyone else. they have a comfortable little bickering type of rapport ("I'm getting stronger"; "well I'll just have to get even stronger then"; "you'll never surpass me"; "we'll see about that") which they can fall into with ease and which looks weird af to outsiders, but is "normal" to them and something they're both grateful to have.
they're so intimately familiar with each other's personality and behaviors that they can predict them with perfect accuracy. they're so in tune with each other that they can whip up elaborate coordinated attacks right on the spot in perfect sync. their admiration for each other is so strong that they each think of the other as being the epitome of winning and saving, respectively. their mental images of each other are so vivid that they subconsciously mimic each other's speech patterns whenever they start falling into a particularly strong Win or Save mindset themselves. they take no small amount of pride in showing off for each other. they go apeshit any time the other is in danger or hurt. and each of them would literally die for the other if it ever came to that.
all of that is already canon. on just about every metric imaginable except for "now kiss", the two of them already have a canon intimacy that rivals just about every other great relationship out there. and so to say that none of it actually counts unless there's an actual love confession involved frankly just boggles me. again, maybe it's because I have no personal vested interest in romance myself, though. I'm literally just not wired that way, and so I'm really not the best person to vent to when it comes to these kinds of concerns.
but look, no matter what happens from here on out, these two care about each other on a very deep and personal level. they're going to continue to be a part of each other's lives no matter what. and each of them, no matter what, will continue to occupy a space in each other's lives that no other person can fill, regardless of how we or Horikoshi or anyone else choose to label and define that space. and so in my book, that's already a win.
anyways, apologies again for the impromptu rant. again, this wasn't particularly directed at you in any way; if anything it's mostly just a generic response to the constant shipping discourse in this and every other fandom, and a more detailed explanation for why I personally don't like to get involved in it. this is just one of the myriad reasons why I try my best to stay very far away from BnHA twitter lol.
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hellotherekenobi · 3 years ago
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─── tired. [pt.ii]
summary: tired from a mission, you fall asleep on obi-wan's shoulder.
index: part one.
MINI-SERIES. ⟶ 2,533 WORDS.
cw: padawan!reader, master kenobi.
a/n: big thank you to those who helped me with this idea and giving me one hell of an inspiration boost!
· · ─────── ·𖥸· ─────── · ·
It felt as if you had blinked. When your eyes opened, you expected to see the inside of the ship you and your master were on, and yet, you saw the inside of your private quarters. It didn’t seem like you had fallen asleep that long, but with how heavy your head felt and the feeling of sleep in your eye, apparently it was much longer than that. On any other day, you would have assumed that perhaps you were so tired that you forgot walking to your quarters yourself, but the sheets were far too neatly tucked to have been your doing.
Someone had carried you, and that same someone had tucked you in.
You sit up and look around, expecting to find something. You were alone in the room, that much was clear. How long it was since you were brought here, you don't know, but it’s definitely no mystery as to who that someone was. After all, who else was with you when you fell asleep? Then, speak of the devil, your comlink beeps. It’s loud enough that it startles you wide awake, as you scramble about in the sheets after patting your pockets and finding them empty. Finally, after some more digging, your fingers touch the curve of it and you quickly pick it up, but much too quick, you find, it slips right out of your hand and goes flying for your door.
Hitting the floor with a thud, your knees sink into the carpet as you start to shuffle over to your discarded, and hopefully not broken, comlink, almost burning your knees through the fabric of your robes. Imagine having to tell the Council that the red marks on your knees were due to carpet burn and not the mission. As you reach your comlink and swoop it up in your hand, you try your best to sound casual and not as if you had just woken up and bee-lined for the call.
“Hello?”
“Ah, you’re awake. How did you sleep?” it’s your master’s voice.
“Um, good, thank you.” you wait a moment. “How did I get here?”
You can hear Obi-Wan chuckle through the line. “You were completely asleep by the time the jet landed. I couldn’t find it in myself to wake you up.”
Okay. Processing... connecting the dots... registering. Obi-Wan, your master, carried you all the way from the hanger bay to your quarters?
“Yes, well, I couldn’t have woken you up even if I tried.”
Oh kriff, you had said your thoughts out loud.
“There’s much to do today. I know you would like to get some more rest in, but I hardly think I would be much of a Jedi Master if I let you take a day off.”
“Right, of course.” you say. “I’ll be ready in a moment.”
“Take your time. We don’t want you walking around with your robes on backward again, do we?”
Click. You hang up on Obi-Wan.
─────── ⋯ ───────
Obi-Wan’s lips curve into a soft smile, barely there but still noticeable. His comlink sits inside his pocket after he had put it there with a laugh, thinking of how you must have groaned at the memory he mentioned when he had called you earlier. He couldn’t help it, he loved to poke fun at you from time to time—you almost made it too easy. He also couldn’t help but think of you earlier, falling asleep on his shoulder. It was cute.
“Master Kenobi?”
His eyes lift up to the mention of his name. For a moment, he looks on in silence, wondering why he had been called (and completely forgetting his reason for being here), until he remembers.
“Yes,” he sits up in his seat, knees hitting each other. “I believe so.”
The Council members nod and for a moment it seems as if he’s getting away with the very obvious fact that he hadn’t been paying attention. Only for a moment. His arm is nudged by the Jedi next to him, one who had been on the mission too, and he quirks his brow. Obi-Wan shakes his head before crossing his arms and looking outward again, this time actually trying to listen.
He can hear the Jedi chuckle beside him, but he doesn’t mind. He’s alright being swept up in his thoughts of you, of how proud he is of you and of how young you make him feel, as the years go on and he finds himself growing further away from the young padawan he used to be. You almost help him make time stand still, like there could never be a sunset with the promise of spending the day with you. When he’s with you, he feels that same easy-going amiability he felt with his former master.
When the meeting is over and Obi-Wan leaves the room alongside the other Jedi, he finds you standing not too far from the door. The first thing he does is check your robes. On right. Good. The next thing he does is smile at you, which has you bopping a bit on the spot and smiling back at him. Sometimes he thinks one look at your smile could end the war. If only it were that simple.
“You look well-rested.” Obi-Wan says as he nears you, patting you ‘hello’ on the shoulder.
You smile, looking around you, watching the other Jedi walking past for a moment. “That was the most sound sleep I’ve had in months.”
He chuckles. “I’m glad to hear it. That must mean that you’re ready for a full day of training.”
The grumble under your breath does not go amiss to Obi-Wan.
─────── ⋯ ───────
You’re so tired again. This time it wasn’t a long mission, or an army of droids, but your very own master who had the audacity to smile at you all dazzling-like, as if he couldn’t tell how badly you wanted to hit your bed right now—or the floor, if you stay here any longer—after the training you went through today. He was seemingly upping the pressure each time you two trained and you had to wonder why he was doing so all of the sudden. Anytime you asked him, though, you were met with the same response: “It’s for your benefit.” Gee, thanks.
By the time your heels are aching, Obi-Wan finally calls a wrap on training. You could jump with glee if you had the energy, so instead you just smile at him and mutter a ‘thank you’ as you reach for your cloak on the chair beside him.
“You’re doing very well. I can see your progress each day.” he says, smiling up at you.
“All thanks to your training, master.” you reply, trying to hold back a yawn.
Obi-Wan chuckles. “You better go get some rest.”
“If you insist.” you shrug your shoulders, even though you’re internally crying with joy, then slip your cloak on.
You tell him goodbye, and goodnight, before trudging out of the training room and heading over to your private quarters. As you turn down the hallway where your door is, you’re greeted by a few other padawans who are walking in the direction you came from. They smile politely at you and you offer a wave, when suddenly one of them says: “Caraya’s soul, you look like death.” GEE, THANKS.
“I’ve been training so much these last few days,” you tell them. “I’m just really tired.”
“Where’s Master Kenobi?” one of them asks, looking behind you.
“Back in the training room. Why do you ask?”
“I figured he’d carry you to your quarters again.”
Some of them giggle when you stand there mutely. Take a deep breath, you tell yourself, then you try to laugh it off. “You saw that?”
“Who didn’t? You were out like a saber.”
“If you ask me,” another one pipes up. “it was pretty romantic. I wish he’d carry me like that.”
“You’re so lucky to have him as a master.”
You start to zone out from the embarrassment of it all, only picking up a few words and the grumble of one of them being trained by Master Windu. It’s a bit of a blur when they say goodbye, with you forming a smile in a tight line and then hurrying into your quarters just up ahead. They saw! If they saw, then who else did? You hadn’t really ever thought about it. To be honest, you were trying to forget about it. You’re so incredibly tired and this isn’t helping.
“Oh, Maker,” you groan, burying your face in your hands. “This is horrible! How can I possibly fall asleep now?”
As soon as you hit the bed, you’re out.
─────── ⋯ ───────
It’s for your benefit, that’s what Obi-Wan kept telling you. It wasn’t exactly the honest answer, but in a way it was. Truthfully, Obi-Wan does want to see you progress to becoming a Jedi Knight. He knows you have it in you. Yet also truthfully, he’s been pushing a bit more with your training because... well because he’s holding onto the ridiculous hope that you might fall asleep on his shoulder again if you’re really tired.
He thought he had done rather well at avoiding attention the day he carried you back to your quarters. No one had spoken about it and he hadn’t heard a single mention of it from the Council either. Yet all it takes is the giggling of a few padawans walking toward the training room, hushed together, and becoming silent the moment they see him standing in the doorway for him to think kriff. He steps to the side for them to walk on ahead and they all smile at him politely, before going back to their hushed talking.
Obi-Wan makes a hurried pace over to your quarters. He’s hoping they didn’t say anything to you, or that you didn’t piece it together by their giggles alone, like he just did. It’s a horrible feeling in his chest when he knocks on your door. He’s felt his heart skip a beat many times in his life, mostly when fighting, but nothing compares to the feeling now—it’s almost thunderous. The true worry starts to kick in when you don’t answer his knocking. Were you upset? Embarrassed? It’s too much for Obi-Wan to think about, so he pushes the door open with the force and steps inside, ready to apologize or at least explain himself, when a noise shuts him up.
You’re... snoring.
There you are, sprawled out on the bed, almost looking like a heap of fabric and you’re snoring. Obi-Wan isn’t sure if he should be happy or disappointed that you’re asleep, and then all together he feels apologetic. He worked you too hard. He let himself want so much that he didn’t even really think about how it was affecting you. He feels like the most oblivious Jedi Master in the galaxy.
“I’m sorry,” he whispers, though he knows you can’t hear him.
He stands there a bit awkwardly, scratching the back of his neck. He needs to tell you he’s sorry in person, not like this. Letting out a deep sigh, he turns on his heel and makes his way back over to the door, and then for the second time since he stepped inside your quarters, a noise stops him in his tracks.
“Obi-Wan,” it’s your voice, muffled and sleepy.
His heart is definitely thundering. He steps back over to you quickly, his fingers instinctually reaching out to brush gently along your cheek. “Yes?”
Your eyes flutter open and his worries dissipate when you crinkle your nose at him, smiling slightly. There it is, the smile that could end the war.
“Can you tuck me in before you go?”
He lets out a breathy chuckle, feeling all the weight in his chest drop to his feet and melt into the floor. “Of course, dear one.”
He’s as gentle as ever, pulling the sheets up and over your body, moving the pillow slightly so that you can lay more comfortably. It’s almost like the first time, expect this time your eyes are still smiling up at him. When he’s done, he leans down to press a soft kiss to your forehead and this time he can see just how far your smile grows.
“Rest well.”
He lets you sleep in the next morning, no matter what kind of Jedi Master that makes him.
─────── ⋯ ───────
The jet lands smoothly and Obi-Wan is thankful. He didn’t want a rough landing to wake you up, but then he remembers that you have to wake up—the jet is landed and it’s time to get off. But he can’t. He can’t wake you, not when you look so peaceful and he was enjoying the feeling of your head on his shoulder. He probably could have gotten some sleep in as well, if he was being honest with himself. You have a way of helping him switch off of battle mode; turning him back into a person, rather than a General.
He simply wants this moment to last a little longer, but the door hisses open and the ramp lowers before he could even think to wish the thought. He doesn’t let up, though, so he waits until you’re both the last people on the jet. Then, very gently, he moves to cradle you in his arms; scooping you up and lifting you from the seat. He carries you the way over to your private quarters, not caring about some of the eyes on him, but does take an alternate route to save yourself from any future embarrassment, should anyone mention it to you when you’re awake. You’re still a padawan but no longer a child. He can only imagine what a sight this is and how you’d hold this to him for months if word spread.
When the door opens and he walks inside, he almost stops to allow the feeling of you in his arms to linger just a little longer, yet settles you down onto your bed before he can let himself stand there. He tucks the sheets in over your body, after putting your lightsaber on the nightstand. He wouldn’t want that turning on, Maker knows he’s almost done it a few times. Your hand is curled in an open fist on the pillow, right beside your face. You look so peaceful, not at all as if you had fought off a hoard of droids just a few hours before.
He wonders if you’re dreaming and, maybe, if those dreams involve a life free from the Order, where you didn’t have to fight for peace because there was already peace in the galaxy. Obi-Wan won’t lie to himself, he’s often wondered what his life would be like if he weren’t a Jedi and if there were no war. Would he farm? Would he do something creative, like paint? Would he still have met you? No, there’s no dream that could be worth nearly enough from the reality of knowing you. He wouldn’t offer it up for anything.
The only dream Obi-Wan has is that you can fall asleep on his shoulder again.
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talkfantasytome · 4 years ago
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'Twas Never Meant to Be - An Opinion
I have a lot of thoughts about this, and really need to get them out. So, let's talk about Elain and Azriel.
First off, I want to warn you, this post is a beast. Like, over 7.5k words beast. It just kept going. I'm sorry, but I didn't know what to take out and, honestly, I didn't want to spend a lot of time heavily editing it. Tread knowingly. I will not be offended if anyone chooses not to read it, or not to read it all.
Secondly, I want to say that this post is not meant to be a pro-Gwynriel or pro-Elucian post. Regardless of my personal ships, I want to explain why I, personally, do not believe Elain and Azriel would be right for each other. And these reasonings go far beyond "because I'd prefer them with someone else". In fact, these beliefs and feelings are first and foremost in my mind when considering all three of these ships, and any feelings I may or may not have on other ships are always second to my belief that they would not be right together. I will do my best to keep Gwyn and Lucien out of the comparison, unless using them as a way to point to something that would be wrong between Elain and Azriel - versus stating any reason why the other would be right.
The first two reasons I will share are ones I have been holding on to for quite a while, and have only become stronger with more content (Silver Flames). I have, personally, not seen much around these two thoughts, but recognize that they may be out there already, as there is no new thought under the sun. So, here goes:
Step Away From the Characters
Honestly, my first reason really has nothing to do with the characters themselves at all, but it's something I can't get out of my head. It's a personal thing, I know, as everyone might see it differently, but I can't help but feel like the three brothers ending up with the three sisters would be too perfect, too convenient.
I know that it's a shit argument when talking about an SJM book, and the more I read about the series, and the more books that come out within it, the more I recognize this. It makes me sad. But personally, I can't get behind this storyline, this ending that is so perfect it makes my skin crawl. It's not how life works, and it doesn't really make sense. If it were three adoptive sisters, as the bat boys are, it would actually make more sense, because it would stand to reason that you would have a two groups that mirror each other. That one girl who mirrored Rhys, let's say, then befriended to the point of sisterhood ones that mirrored the boys that Rhys befriended to the point of brotherhood. But Nesta, Elain, and Feyre are sisters by blood, not by choice, and so it isn't an automatic that they would be that reflection to the boys. And even though the boys lived together, and weren't fully brought together by choice as much as Mrs. Rhys's mother, they still chose to stay together and be brothers.
We have never, not fully, seen the Archerons make those same choices. These boys live together (or used to), work together, truly share their lives. The Archerons don't. The girls were disconnected before becoming Fae, and they are still disconnected after it. You see it more clearly with Nesta, of course, trying to stay away from the group, stay separate. But you see it with Feyre and Elain too. You see how Elain practically gives up on Nesta, and how Feyre discredits and dismisses Elain as anything more than just a kind soul who likes to garden. You can't, for two seconds, convince me that the Archerons have as similar or as bonded relationships to each other as the bat boys, and that alone tells us that we should not expect them to mirror the boys.
I would also like to note, looking back at the characters for a second, that it has been observed by others how Feyre and Nesta do seem to have similar energies a lot. On top of that, you could argue that Nesta mirrors all three bat boys in one way or another. It's one theory as to why she and Rhys struggle so much with each other, because they're too similar. And, you can't convince me that Az and Nesta don't share a bond because of their own similarities. Nesta's fire was cold as ice. Rhys once observed Azriels rage as an 'icy rage'. I don't think I need to mention how Nesta mirrors Cassian, but it's there too. So, the fact that she would be the sister who ended up with a mate from the Night Court, one of these three brothers, just made a lot of sense. But Elain, who is so different from her sisters, she doesn't have that same energy. It's not a bad thing, but it helps make sense why she would be the one with a mate from outside this Court.
Beyond this, however, I still struggle with the three and three come together concept. And that's coming from someone who actually has, within her family, a story of two brothers marrying two sisters - my great grandparents (or great great, I can never remember). So, I know stuff like this does happen, though admittedly my only experience is with two and two, and naturally I do believe that the likelihood of the full group being with the full other group goes down with each additional number. Regardless of that, though, it is an author's job to tell a story that we can connect to, and having such convenient and perfect endings makes it difficult to do just that. Because life isn't like that.
So I struggle with the concept of this. Like I said, the more I get to know these books, this series, the more I understand that this is not a great argument for why Elain and Azriel aren't endgame considering how other things have played out, but I still think it's a good argument for why they shouldn't be. However, I would also say that the argument that they will end up together because it's three brothers and three sisters is completely off base and illogical, for reasons I've mentioned above. What is the purpose of that? How does that drive the plot and the story and world? How does it connect us to them better? It doesn't. All it does is be just a convenient little bow that has no true purpose, unless there is true purpose as to why each sister ended up with each brother. And I don't really see a purpose as to why Elain would end up with Az except that they're both the last sibling, and that they currently like each other. But that doesn't mean they're right for each other, and I don't see how them being together will spur the story and the world forward the way Feyre and Rhys did, and the way Nesta and Cassian can and/or will.
As someone who dabbles in writing, I have thought about these types of things, and I'm always adjusting plans and thoughts when I realize I've gone into that too perfect la la land, and I'd like to believe that all writers do that. SJM has had some convenient endings, but I will say I've not yet felt like any ending was just too perfect. The closest was, of course, ACOWAR. But even then, you still had threads, misunderstandings, questions, and things you weren't happy about. Yes, the ending felt a bit perfect, but we still lost the Bone Carver, Mr. Archeron, the Suriel, etc. There were still things that made it less than completely perfect. And much of what was done in the ending did move this story forward, and provide the opening for what we are now getting. And, in the same vein, I like to think that SJM would recognize how this would be too much. But, I don't hold out a lot of hope on this reasoning alone, it's really just something I had to get off my chest.
Share Life With Me
This next point is huge for me, in my mind. Again, it is based off of my own personal opinions of some characters, as well, so I do understand that some people may not agree with this argument. That's fine, but you will not sway me.
It all comes down to one thing. What does Az want?
In the Az POV chapter we are finally told, out right, that he does want Elain. But, my question - does he really?
I have been thinking about this since long before Silver Flames, since we all knew Az had a crush, but it wasn't as cemented until Silver Flames came out, and we saw how Nesta and Cassian would develop as a couple. Because, and here's the kicker, I don't believe Az actually wants Elain.
Yes, you read that right. I know he thinks he wants Elain. I know he believes she's kind and beautiful. And I recognize that there was a sexual tension there - I'm not blind. But I don't believe that Elain is the end goal Azriel is actually looking for.
I believe that she is a representation of that end goal.
This mostly comes down to his conversation with Rhys, his belief about the Cauldron:
"The Cauldron chose three sisters. Tell me how it's possible that my two brothers are with two of those sisters, yet the third was given to another." He had never before dared speak the words aloud.
Okay, first - Az, please see point above. Also, I can't help but feel like SJM put that in here almost to show that this isn't actually a valid argument.
Second, let's dissect that argument for a moment. Now, perhaps Az is just trying to find what he considers a more 'objective' reason for why Elain should be his, why they should be together. However, if that were the case, then why would he have never dared speak those words aloud? Most likely because he knows it's not a solid argument, and logical Az knows this. But this is 2 AM, you just stopped me from kissing the girl I fancy Az, and he definitely is not being his most logical self.
It's also not a logical or good argument because of one simple word. Given. "…the third was given to another." Az, you're better than this. I truly want to believe you're better than this. I understand that the mating bond is weird, and inherently at least slightly sexist, but that doesn't give any male the right to really look at it that way. Especially when you consider the explanation that the mating bond will be present between two perfect equals. This is seen in ACOMAF when Feyre can't believe Rhys would be her mate, because that's what it would mean, that she's his equal. This also paints Elain as an object, which, no matter what anyone's feelings are toward the character, is not okay. She is a person. A fictional one, but still a person, she cannot be given unless she chooses to give herself. The Cauldron simply dictated who it believes is best for her, and vice versa. I'm not saying the Cauldron was right, or that she and Lucien would be good together, but that's what the mating bond is. To argue that the Cauldron was wrong because two brothers got two of the sisters, but the third was given to another is inherently wrong, because Elain cannot be given away.
It also shows that maybe Az really isn't truly seeing Elain for who she is, if he is thinking of it this way. I do believe that Az is a feminist, or, at least, more of a feminist than most of the males in Prythian (which, sadly, doesn't seem to be saying much). So I don't believe this is a comment based on a sexism in Az we haven't seen yet, I truly don't. I believe that it is a comment made by someone whose judgement is clouded, and who is, as I stated earlier, using Elain as a representation of what he's really looking for. He seems to idolize her, put her on a pedestal, believe that she is all light, all good. (Az, please see my previous post on that little nugget.) He objectifies her not because he truly believes she is an object, but because she has become a symbol in his mind - she is not the person Elain to him. She is the one he should have, the one who will bring him what he wants. Note I didn't say the one he wants. Whenever a person puts another on a pedestal the way Az has with Elain, whenever someone idolizes them, or believes that said person will fix all of their woes, they are subconsciously objectifying them. That being is no longer seen as a true person, with all the flaws and struggles and ugly parts. They are something else. And those types of feelings about another person never end in a good relationship, because at least one side is always expecting too much from the other, and they rarely learn to cope with what they didn't expect. And, for the record, you should never really be 'coping' with your partners flaws, but that's a conversation for another day.
Beyond being not a truly logical argument, and showing us how Azriel has actually objectified Elain in his mind, I also believe this statement gives us insight into what Az actually wants. He could have said a number of things to express a belief (or desire) that the Cauldron was wrong. He could have talked about his feelings for Elain. About how he thinks their personalities are too compatible for them to not be rightfully mates. Pretty much, he could have said something about Elain, and how they are right together because of who they are.
But he didn't.
Instead, Az brought up his two brothers and their mates. How they each got one, so surely the third should be his. And why did he do this? Again, maybe 2 AM Az who had lost his logic just thought this was an objective reason. But I think there's more to it than that. I think he brought up those other relationships as a way to point toward what it is he really wants. Because that's what's on his mind. It's not that Elain is perfect for him, that she is everything he could have ever hoped for in a female. It's that she is the sister of his brother's two mates, and he wants what his brothers have. So, clearly, that must mean that it's Elain who can give him that.
Again, Az, please read my first point. Because that's not a guarantee just because they're related.
Now, I imagine most people are saying, "Well, duh. We all know he wants what they have. He said so earlier on in the chapter." And he did:
Azriel couldn't stop it. The envy in his chest. Of Cassian, and Rhys.
So, it's not new. But, this argument he provided highlights that so specifically. He wants what his brothers have. Not a mate, per se. No. What they have.
But, wait, a mate is what they have. What are you saying?
Yes, a mate is what each of them have. But, as we know, not all mates are perfect for each other. Rhys and Feyre, and Cassian and Nesta are both examples of how right the mating bond can be. But, let's instead look at what they both have, in points, instead of just saying they have a mate. Here are, from my interpretation, the main common aspects of these two relationships:
Love. Sure, Nesta and Cassian hadn't said it yet. But, yes, they love each other, they're just both stubborn and scared and maybe not ready to say it.
Heavy sexual attraction and chemistry. This may not always be the most important piece of a relationship, but it's blatant in both of theirs, and it's clear that Az wants that as well. Which is fair.
Friendship. It's hard to see it at times, because these books are so much about the romance, but I do believe that both couples are truly friends who like to spend time together. Who can have fun together. We don't get to see this enough - and I do wish we saw more of it - but it is there. It's there when Cassian throws his head back laughing at something Nesta said. Or when Rhys is thrilled when sassy Feyre appears. And yes, it is in part the mating bond, making them want to be near each other, but they still enjoy that time together. Mates who aren't right for each other wouldn't.
True partners. In these two relationships, they are more than just each other's mate, lover, friend. They are and/or are becoming partners. In their relationships, Rhys and Cass have found a female who they can share their lives with. Completely and fully. In Feyre, Rhys has found a High Lady, a female who is his true equal, who can rule the Court with him. They work together, plan together. And Rhys can come home at night and tell her everything about his day. In Nesta, Cass has found someone who, I believe, will grow to command with him. Likely female units, but she is still mirroring Cass in that way. She may not become his true equal in terms of being Commander of the Night Court, but she would still be his partner. He will still be able to strategize with her, the two working together to determine where each unit will go. He will command the Illyrians, and by his side she will command the Valkyries. And he can come home, at the end of the day, and tell her everything about his day.
It's this last piece that I want to really dig into, because that is what separates Rhys and Cassian's relationships from others we have seen, in my opinion, and thus that is what Az wants. It's not just a mate, he wants what his brothers have, a true partner who he can fully share his life with. Because that is what makes their relationships so special.
And, in the end, I do not believe Elain can be that for him.
I am not trying to discredit Elain, or say that she is simple, or that she can't do anything but garden and be a housewife. No. That is not my point. I do think, however, that what it would entail to be a true partner to Az is something she does not want to do. And that is okay! It is okay for her to want to garden and bake. It's okay to not wish to be involved in all of the plotting and planning and little missions and quests that the Inner Circle does. It's okay to not want to train. To be happy as you are.
But she can't do both. She can't be a true partner to Azriel and remain as she is. Now, perhaps she does want more, and I have misread her. It's possible, I am not infallible. However, she hasn't ever truly shown us anything that tells me otherwise. And, no, I don't believe her offering to find the Dread Trove in Silver Flames counts as I don't believe she offered to do so out of the goodness of her heart or because she wanted to do it. I believe she wanted to prove Nesta wrong. (Again, you can see this in my previous post.) So, to be a true partner to Azriel, she may have to change everything that she is. And that's not fair to her.
And, even if I am way off on a lot of this. Even if she does want to do more for the Night Court. There is one thing that we have learned about Elain:
She does not wish to fight, she does not wish to train.
I'm sorry, you can't convince me otherwise. Not when she has had ample opportunity to do so in the year, year and a half since Hybern, and still hasn't. It was different with Nesta, who was dealing with a lot of other things, but Elain has been, for the most part, fairly healthy. Her not training is her choice because of who she is.
Again, this is okay! I am not insulting Elain for this, not at all. I get it. I don't particularly love working out - the main exercise I get is from rock climbing twice a week, that's it. So I get it. However, you cannot work with Azriel and not be trained, not know how to fight. Even if Elain could be silent, or infiltrate courts easily, and learn secrets, you need those skills, even if it's just a fallback to ensure you can escape should something go wrong. But it also helps to understand these types of things, to understand battle and politics and everything else. It's not about whether she can do this, it's about whether she wants to do this, and I'm not sure she does. So she would either have to change who she is, and be unhappy to become Az's partner, or she wouldn't be able to be that. And, admittedly, if she were unhappy, he still wouldn't have what his brothers have.
However, on top of that, I also don't know if Azriel would let Elain be his true partner. Think about when they're at dinner, talking about how Nesta needs to scry, and how they'll have to rely on Elain if she doesn't - what Azriel says.
“There is an innate darkness to the Dread Trove that Elain should not be exposed to.”
Sidebar - I've not seen anyone talk about how Cassian was absolutely in the right for defending Nesta. So I did. You can see my soap box here.
Now, back to the point. This is one example of how Az is constantly trying to protect Elain from, well, kinda everything. So, even if Elain did want to do all of those things, would Az even be okay with it? He obviously can't stop her from training or anything like that - and if he tries should she ever want to, he's dead to me. But, would he really share his life with her? Tell her about those 'unspeakable things that sullied his hands far beyond their scars'? I don't believe he would. I don't believe he could truly handle her working with him because, again, he has put her on this pedestal of beauty and grace and goodness (that she may not have). And the things he does are not good, at least not by his standards. He wouldn't be able to truly include her until he started to look at her as her own person again, which I also don't see happening. And, even then, he still wouldn't want to share with her all he'd done, believing her likely to judge those things, to be too pure to even hear about them. Regardless of whether that is true or not about Elain, it would hinder him from being able to have a true partner in her. When Azriel comes home at night, he would not tell her everything about his day.
Love Yourself, Az
This, I know for a fact, is not a new revelation. I have seen a lot about this, and have seen some posts that even helped me along with this as well, but I can't not address Az's shadows. I would link to the first post I saw about this but, admittedly, I can't find it. So, just know, I'm not the only one thinking this, and I recognize that some of this may come off as similar to others, but I couldn't not talk about this because it just feels so important.
Elain sucked in a soft breath that whispered over his skin. His shadows skittered back at the sound. They'd always been prone to vanish when she was around.
It wasn't until the Azriel POV chapter that I fully understood what lay behind the fact that Az's shadows would retreat around Elain, when we get a direct comparison to how they react to Gwyn's breath:
"How was the party?" Her breath curled in front of her mouth, and one of his shadows darted out to dance with it before twirling back to him. Like it heard some silent music.
Before this, I didn't realize how bad a sign it is, for his shadows to retreat. I just thought they did that when he was around someone he was attracted to, almost as a sense that the other person lightened him up. But, with this comparison, and in general what we see from Az when around Elain, I see just how wrong I was. His shadows hiding isn't a sign of him lightening up - no, it's a sign of him retreating more into himself, trying to be something that he isn't around that person, in the hopes that they'll accept him if he is.
In the end, it's toxic.
He can't be who he truly is around Elain. That's not something that will lead to a healthy, happy relationship. He may have the girl he thinks he wants, but he won't have the relationship we all know he is desperate for. Whereas, around Gwyn, we see his shadows reach out to another person, jump out, dance with her breath, sing to her. He is able to fully embrace who he is around her. He will be able to be himself with her, love himself with her. And whether or not Gwyn is the right person to him, what this tells us is that Elain can't be that person. That she, like Mor, would be toxic to Az.
On top of that, I can't not point out the word usage here.
While I did observe this on my own, I am not the first to point it out - pagesofmoonlight talks about this in detail, about the usage of the term 'skittered' in regards to how the shadows retreat from Elain. It's not just a general hiding, or even a 'lightening' of Az, as I once thought. It's a gut reaction to her, her breath. They run from her. When I read that word, I literally picture a wave of something, and the shadows seeing it and running from it in fear.
Similarly, in comparison, with Gwyn's breath, the shadows 'darted' out to it. That, also, is not just a general they reached out to it for warmth or contact. Now, they darted - that is a very quick move, often done with a need or desire to get to where you're going as quickly as possible. The shadows needed or wanted to be with that breath, so they darted to it.
Like I said, this post isn't meant to be promoting one ship over Elain and Azriel. But what Gwyn provides here is a comparison, is a sign of what could and should be, whether with her or another person. Even if she isn't endgame, she shows us this problem between Elain and Azriel.
Home is Where You Shine
This entire post, which has become MASSIVE, has been very focused on Azriel, and why Elain is not right for him. But I want to touch on a reason why Az isn't right for Elain.
Azriel is a part of the Night Court. It is his home. It is where he belongs. He fits here, it is right for him. He can and does fine here. I don't think anyone can deny this. But Elain - she does not.
First, let's look at when Nesta is in the Spring Court.
Nesta’s throat constricted, and she surveyed the swaying cherry blossoms overhead. Elain would love this place. So many flowers, all in bloom, so much green—the light, vibrant green of new grass—so many birds singing and such warm, buttery sunshine. Nesta felt like a storm cloud standing amid it all. But Elain … The Spring Court had been made for someone like her.
I'm not saying Elain will end up in the Spring Court, but I do believe it is telling that Nesta would think about another court this way. We've not, to my recollection, really ever seen another character think about how well someone would fit in a different court. Feyre did, if I remember correctly, mention enjoying other courts at times, thinking they were beautiful, but never did she think about how right someone within her court would be in a different court. Because no one else in the Inner Circle would fit so well in another court. For whatever reason it is, everyone else is perfectly suited for the Night Court, and they can handle it.
It takes a lot to be a part of the Night Court. The masks they all wear, the reputation they have, the responsibilities that fall on their shoulders. It's not an insult or an attack on any character to say that they may not fit there, that they may be more in tune with the beauty of Spring, the warmth of Summer, the light of Day. And Elain, who is gentle and kind and not one to pretend to be what she isn't - likely because she's never felt the need to - I can understand how it would be hard.
Secondly, and I know it's a point of contention, and a well-discussed piece of Silver Flames, but I do want to talk about the Solstice Ball, and Cassian's observations.
Elain in black was ridiculous. Yes, she was beautiful, but the color of her long-sleeved, modest gown leeched the brightness from her face. It wore her, rather than the other way around. And he knew the cruelty of the Hewn City troubled her. But she hadn’t hesitated to come. When Feyre had offered to let her remain home, Elain had squared her shoulders and declared that she was a part of this court—and would do whatever was needed. So Elain had let her golden-brown hair down tonight, and pinned it back with twin combs of pearl. He’d never once in the two years he’d known her found Elain to be plain, but wearing black, no matter how much she claimed to be part of this court … It sucked the life from her.
I will try not to go too far into the information about Elain in the black dress, as it's been discussed a lot from both sides, though I do think it is telling, because Cassian isn't just saying it's the one dress. It's very specific about how Elainin black was ridiculous, not that dress. It may seem shallow, but in the end, black is a crucial color in the Night Court, and that type of symbolism is often used to depict things just like this. It would not be the first time, and it certainly won't be the last that a writer uses color this way. However, I have seen a number of posts about this, on both sides, and I do understand both arguments, even if I disagree with one because I don't think it's meant to just be a skewed POV.
I would like to note, however, that the main argument I've seen is that there was once another time Elain was described in a dress that did little to complement her, but it's a very different description. That other time, it's mentioned specifically that the dress and color/shade of the dress did little to complement her 'sallow skin'. First of all, this is specifically discussing how the color didn't work with her skin, not how the color 'drained the life out of her'. Secondly, I would say it is very important to note that 'sallow' means "of a sickly, yellowish or lightish brown color". It is not discussing her skin as it typically is, but how it is when she was in the midst of her own depression after becoming High Fae. It's not that the dress didn't complement her, it's just that it didn't help make her skin look better than the sickly state it was currently in. Whereas, in this reflection, Elain is healthy, and still the black is draining her. Not the dress, not the shade - black. Point blank.
It's also important to recognize that this isn't meant to insult Elain, I believe it is a symbol of how she doesn't shine in the Night Court, how this court could potentially 'suck the life out of her'. Yes, it's just a dress. Yes, there's a chance they wanted her to look plain, but I don't believe that.
They were always going to have Nesta dance with Eris, and they all knew that, despite Elain's beauty, and no matter how lovely she looked, Eris would gravitate to Nesta. He'd already shown interest in her, he'd already become intrigued. He looked at Elain first, I believe, to get a look at his brother's mate. Because he wasn't looking at Elain with interest. No, it was an 'assessing gaze'. There was no reason to make Elain look plain. In fact, there was every reason to make sure she looked just as beautiful as Nesta. Think about what Cassian said just before this:
Both sisters wore black. Both walked behind Rhys and Feyre, a silent indicator that they were a part of the royal family. Had mighty powers of their own. They’d planned it that way, wanting Eris to see for himself how valuable Nesta was.
Why would they want her to look plain, considering this? They wanted Nesta and Elain to walk in the procession behind Feyre and Rhys, as a sign, a symbol. Yes, they wanted Eris to see and understand how valuable Nesta was, as it is said, but they didn't want Elain to look any less valuable. First, doing so would have made Nesta look less valuable by comparison. But, on top of that, I highly doubt they had any fears that Eris would prefer Elain - if they believed Eris about Lucien, then I think they'd believe that Eris wouldn't wish to take away his brother's mate. In fact, I imagine Eris would more likely help Lucien with Elain - but, that just be my Eris stan status coming out.
What is clear is that it was purposeful that they put both Nesta and Elain in black, as a symbol that they are a part of this family. My guess is that they found a dress for Elain that did her the most justice, and that she was comfortable wearing but, in the end, black just doesn't work on her. And is that fact not telling when that is the color of the family?
While this was in draft mode, I also found this post from yazthebookish, who goes deeper into this, and how it wasn't just Cassian who observed how ridiculous Nesta looked in black. So, for those who want to talk about how it is a skewed perspective, there were actually three that made this observation, and I absolutely agree that SJM wouldn't shove this in there solely to say that they purposefully tried to make sure Nesta outshone Elain. As they pointed out, Nesta is gorgeous in her own right. Cassian met her and Elain together, and he was instantly drawn to Nesta. As I mentioned earlier, Eris has been intrigued by her since long before this - see the High Lords meeting in ACOWAR. Helion would gladly get into her leathers, and while I'm aware that's not saying much, his focus on her is slightly higher than you see it on others he would also slide into bed with. She doesn't need Elain to dull herself down to shine.
I also think the one observation about how the black 'wore her' matters. It makes me wonder more about this court, both the general Night Court, and the people in the Inner Circle. Is the court wearing her? Is it sucking the life out of her? Is this why we don't see as much spine from Elain? We got some in this book, but it was all in an attempt to prove she belongs to this court. Something she feels the need to do, as we see in Cassian's reflection:
When Feyre had offered to let her remain home, Elain had squared her shoulders and declared that she was a part of this court—and would do whatever was needed.
…but wearing black, no matter how much she claimed to be part of this court … It sucked the life from her.
First of all, just quickly, I want to mention the ellipses before it says 'it sucked the life from her', and what came right before that. Is Cassian talking about the black? Or is he talking about being a part of this court? I don't have the answer, just food for thought.
I can't help but notice that Elain seems to feel the need to constantly prove, declare, and claim that she is part of this court. She has to push her way through, and while I know it's in part because so many people try to protect her, I think it's more than that. I believe Elain wants to be a part of the Night Court, but in the end it's not suited to her, and so she has to force her way in, when even Nesta, who everyone has been so displeased with, manages to fall in much easier. It's not because they don't like Elain, that's obvious. I believe it's because, in the end, they all see it.
It reminds me a lot of Tywin Lannister's quote from GoT (TV series, I won't read the books until George RR Martin finishes them):
Any man who must say, "I am the King", is no true king.
Could you not adjust this to: "Any person who must say, 'I am part of this court', is not truly part of this court."
I don't think Nesta has once said that. Feyre, maybe, but not in the same way as much as in letting certain people outside the court know. But, to have to say that within the court - it signifies that either you, yourself, don't believe yourself part of the court, or that maybe you aren't truly. Or that you are, but you recognize that maybe it's not the right fit, even if you really want it to be.
In the end, while I don't think Elain can't fit or find a nice life in the Night Court, the final point is that she doesn't shine in the Night Court. And that's not the same as saying she fully doesn't belong. But, shouldn't home be a place where you shine? Where you can be everything you are, and it is absolutely right? Isn't that what Nesta found in Silver Flames, in the House, with Cassian, and Gwyn, and Emerie,…and the House? She didn't have to be anything other than who she was, with any of them, and she still found a place that not only provided her comfort, but where she could truly shine. And she's found it in the Night Court, as well.
Elain hasn't. And maybe that's just because we haven't seen her story play out yet. I'm not so stuck up to believe there's no way I could be wrong. In fact, what bugs me the most about a lot of posts around these different beliefs is the use of 'when' instead of 'if', because no one wants to admit that, at this point in time, no matter what side you're on, it very much is an 'if'. None of us know what SJM has planned. All we can do is use the information we've been given to make as educated a guess as possible. This is mine, and SJM may prove me completely wrong, and that's okay. She may end up giving Elain a more similar arc to Nesta, and show how she develops and grows into someone who flourishes in the Night Court with Az by her side, and should she do that, I hope it's in a way I can understand and not something poorly developed and difficult to grasp.
A Mate is A Mate is A Mate
I won't talk too much about how she and Azriel aren't mates and how that automatically means they couldn't work. It could, in concept. I won't address the theories about her ending up with multiple mates. I do not agree with these theories, as they conflict with the canon we have. Until SJM puts out canon information that can explain a contradiction to what we've been given, any theory that truly contradicts the canon provided I will not consider, whether I like it or not. Multiple mates is not a thing. Being able to sever the mating bond so that someone can have a new mate is not a thing. I do recognize that females can reject the mating bond, and I am not saying whether or not I think Elain should or shouldn't do this with Lucien. Nor am I saying that having a story where someone does reject the mating bond to see how that plays out wouldn't be great.
I will point out, however, that it is often discussed as a thing females do. Females reject the mating bond. Males who have a female that rejected the mating bond grow incredibly uncomfortable, and they truly struggle.
...there will always be a ... tug. For the females, it is usually easier to ignore, but the males ... It can drive them mad.
I'm not going to include all the stuff about males thinking their mate belongs to them. Grow up, Prythian. Get with the program. But, considering this, considering the other pieces we get, I do not know if a male can be with another person, truly, in a loving relationship if he has a mate. Maybe one day, years and years and years after the rejection. Or maybe, if his mate doesn't fit his preferences - if that is a thing (and honestly, we don't yet know the status of same-sex mates, but if they are a thing - please let them be - then I have a harder time believing that those who have specific preferences would end up in a mating pair with the wrong gender).
I am not saying this to say that Elain and Lucien should be together. I am saying this because, considering all these things, right now, canon information essentially tells us that, should Az find his mate, he will go to her, need to be around her. Think about Cassian when Feyre asked why he bothers with Nesta:
Because I can't stay away.
Think about how Lucien couldn't help but try to find Elain, despite direct orders of being told not to. Or about how the second Rhys heard Feyre say 'no' in her mind to Tamlin, he was there to take her away. They just can't help it. The mating bond has a stronger pull on males.
And, maybe Az would be able to deny the bond. To reject it himself, who knows. But, based on everything we've been told, that would be incredibly difficult. And, considering how much he wants what his brothers have, would he want to?
Obviously, there is reason to believe Az does have a mate, and we've met her. And I know some people disagree with this. I would be interested to hear any theories about why he and Gwyn aren't mates, so long as they don't involve Elain. It's not that I have anything against her, it's just that those arguments don't actually point to Gwyn and Az not being mates, just that the person believes Elain and Az belong together regardless, which is not an argument for why they're not mates. But if there are any reasons or signs found in the books and canon information that distinctly point against Gwyn and Az being mates, then I'm open to hearing those points. And, as I mentioned, I do not entertain any canon-conflicting theories, such as the multiple mates one.
As it stands, though, I do think we have been directed toward the idea that Gwyn and Az are mates, and can believe that the mating bond will snap into place. Once it does, I have a hard time believing Az will actually be able to stay away. And that, even if Gwyn ends up rejecting that bond, I don't know that he'll be able to be with Elain after it, knowing Elain isn't his first choice.
Final Thoughts
Like I said earlier, I'm not against Elain rejecting the mating bond, or anyone doing so. I will say this, though - how much more powerful would it be to have someone reject the mating bond not because they wish to be with someone else, but just because they do not wish to be with that person? Is it not more empowering to see a female (or male, if they can do it) choose to be single, and live their life as they are solely because they just do not wish to be with that person? Instead of it being more of an, 'well, it's just, I'd rather be with him'. Sadly, I do not think Elain is set up to be that person. Gwyn could, potentially, be, though I'll admit I don't believe it, considering the attention Gwyn pays to him. But I do think it's worth noting that, in my opinion, the mating bond can be rejected even if there is not another male in the picture.
However, despite all the questions and uncertainties, until we get answers, this is my personal view, based on what I've seen in the books, and how I've interpreted it. I personally feel that, regardless of who I hope ends up with whom, SJM has placed a number of clues and hints to show that Elain and Azriel aren't meant to be together, that they wouldn't be right together. And that, if they were to be together, the relationship would likely be unhealthy, and potentially toxic.
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This post is also not meant to insult or attack Elain in any way, nor Azriel. Nor am I trying to insult or attack those who ship them together. We are all welcome to our own opinions. I promise to respect yours, please respect mine.
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smells-like-mettaton · 3 years ago
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Tali’s Alphys-Centric Fic Rec List
I’ve been meaning to make this for a while!! All fics are oneshots unless marked as a series or with a chapter count.  Thanks to everyone who recced several of these to me on my 12am begging-for-alphys-fics post dfdksdl. These aren’t in any particular order. The “notes” section is my commentary about each fic. No fics are based on full AUs (ex. underswap, horrortale, etc). The only endgame Alphys ship included is Alphyne, though most of the fics listed are gen. Hope you can find something you enjoy here!
Extra Credit by FriedCatfish
Rating: G // Word count: 1,206 Summary: Undyne loses track of time watching anime. Set before the events of the game. Notes: Cute Alphyne oneshot! Short and sweet, very nice characterization
world comes pouring through by feralpheonix
Rating: G // Word count: 1,655 Summary: Alphys reunites with some old friends on the way home from taking care of business. Notes: 2nd person Alphys pov but it surprisingly works? A small moment with Alphys, Bratty, and Catty, which I literally NEVER see content for so it was really refreshing!! Takes place at/near the end of the pacifist route.
white lies to the dead by MiniNephthys
Rating: T // Word Count: 580 Summary: Alphys walks through Waterfall, talking to someone who's not there. Notes: Queen Alphys ending; Alphys “talks” to Undyne after she’s been killed. Hits me right in all the emotions ;;
Found Soul by LibraLibrary
Rating: T // Word Count: 1,331 Summary: Self-worth is a slippery, fleeting little devil, and the bastard flower that killed you isn't helping. Takes place during the final fight of the True Pacifist run, following Alphys from one purgatory to the next. Notes: Very angsty, definitely make sure you’re ready to handle Alphys’s suicidal thoughts, but a very good read! I love seeing the Lost Soul battle from her POV.
And I Feel Fine by Masu_Trout
Rating: T // Word Count: 1,685 Summary: The fallen human is human is fast approaching The Core, and Mettaton is ready to finally take the stage. Now, if only Alphys would stop worrying so much. Notes: Alphys & Mettaton friendship in the no mercy route, but manages to be surprisingly not depressing. Mettaton POV but definitely still deserves to be here. This fic does a great job of characterizing them both and it’s always great to see Alphys working in her element.
Experimentation by pickledragon
Rating: G // Word Count: 1,531 Summary: Alphys is, above all, a scientist. She may watch anime with religious fervor and make horrible Undernet shitposts in her free time, but she is good at her job. She knows what they say about her, behind her back. But when she stands there, time open before her, she resolves to collect data. Each experiment, intentional or not, brings new opportunities to change certain variables and observe others. Alphys is a scientist, after all. Notes: THIS FIC. it’s technically part of a series but it stands on its own (it’s the only one i’ve read by this author). EXCELLENT alphys characterization and writing style. Some Sans & Alphys friendship too which is always stellar. If you didn’t gather from the summary, it’s an alphys starts to remember resets fic.
Memory by Ash_yeet
Rating: T // Word Count: 19,962 // Chapters: 5/20 Summary: It's been two years since monsterkind have joined the humans on the surface, and Alphys is happier than she's ever been. But things can't stay great forever. She starts having nightmares, lapses in memory, flashbacks to things that have never happened. She hopes it will pass... sans is doing his best to adjust to life. When Alphys reaches out to him about her nightmares, he doesn't expect much. He quickly changes his tune. Someone is trying to come back. And they aren't what they used to be.sans and Alphys are trying to move on. But there's one thing they forgot: No matter how hard you try, you can't run from your past. Notes: I’ve only read chapter one so far, but it’s been really good! Looks like it’s going to involve Gaster in some way. Says it’s on short hiatus but was updated in April so doesn’t look abandoned.
Hot and Cold Blooded (Alphyne series) by perniciousLizard
Rating: varies by fic, usually G but a few T and one E // Word count: 36,516 // Works: 18/18 Summary: This series is a place to put all my Alphys/Undyne stories that aren't part of another series. Notes: this series has something for everyone; you can pick and choose which works to read. Most are feel-good fluff and humor, some hurt/comfort too. Some connect to the author’s Sansby series (which i also can’t recommend enough)
When Life Hands You Enantiomers by Kaesa
Rating: T // Word Count: 2,739 Summary: Alphys has a half-finished tile maze puzzle, reams of useless data, and a bunch of piranhas that can't tell the difference between lemon and orange scent. Sans has donuts. Notes: ONE OF MY VERY FAVORITES. Fun puns, science, alphys & sans friendship, piranhas, the opportunity to actually understand organic chemistry references,, it’s so good and fun
Friendshipping by AyuOhseki
Rating: G // Word Count: 4,564 Summary: Sans finds Alphys's secret Sans/Grillby RPF. This won't get weird or awkward or anything, we're sure. Notes: Hilarious Alphys narration, great characterization, it’s just so silly and warms my heart. I love terrible fanfic writer Alphys
social links by simplycarryon
Rating: G // Word Count: 2,525 Summary: Friendship's pretty neat, or so your video games and anime dictate. But you are not an anime protagonist, and you're not sure you know what friendship is any more. Notes: more solid sans & alphys friendship :D
See You Another Time by decamarks
Rating: T // Word Count: 18,500 // Chapters: 1/14 Summary: “Have you ever thought of a world where everything is exactly the same... Except you don’t exist? Everything functions perfectly without you.” Alphys spent a lot of time thinking about what it’d be like to start over. It wasn’t fair for someone like her to escape consequences. She knew that, yet the thought never left her mind—the thought that maybe, just maybe, she could get another chance; that she could abandon her life, her failures—everything—and start anew. But that would never happen. Sometimes, Alphys wondered. Would the world be better off without her? When unexplainable anomalies appear and begin to warp the world around her, Alphys discovers something she was never meant to know: the identity of the former Royal Scientist, and how he met his demise. Doctor W.D. Gaster vanished without a trace; he was erased from reality after an experiment ended in disgrace. Forgotten by the world, shattered across time and space—it’s like he never existed in the first place.And Alphys can’t imagine a better fate. Notes: This is a monster of a first chapter but definitely worth the read!! So much good stuff happening already. I’m a total wuss but I still love the cosmic/existential horror bits going on so far. Great Sans & alphys friendship and Undyne & alphys friendship so far.  All the amalgamates also feel incredibly well written. Can’t wait to see more of this one
(And here are a few of my own Alphys-centric fics as well)
Seventh Time’s the Charm by Taliax
Rating: G // Word Count: 1,519 // Chapters: 1/7 Summary: Six bad "dates" Alphys has been on, plus one that is actually pretty good. Notes: Alphys is my favorite and I love giving her a bad time. First chapter is a “date” she has with Sans. Next chapter which I have in progress is going to be Papyrus. (Alphyne is still endgame of course.) Set mostly before the events tof the game. Get ready for lots of second-hand embarrassment sdlfkjds
Support Character by Taliax
Rating: T // Word Count: 1,814 Summary: If Sans is determined to fight the human, Alphys is going to make sure he's prepared. Notes: Sans & Alphys no mercy route friendship, based on the headcanon that Alphys was the one to give Sans the powers/magic he uses to fight the human.
it's your best life (if it's the life that you're living right now) by Taliax
Rating: T // Word Count: 4,046 Summary: Through messages saved to Sans's phone, Queen Alphys gets a glimpse at lives that might have been.  With so many possibilities... how did this timeline go so wrong? Notes: Sans & Alphys friendship, Queen Alphys ending, mostly angst/hurt/comfort. I’m really proud of this one and it uses my main headcanon for how Sans knows about resets.
The Trans-Underground Alphys-Carrying, Match-Making Road Trip by Taliax
Rating: G // Word Count: 5,713 Summary: From her secret security camera, Alphys gets too invested in Sans's relationship with the voice behind the door.  This wouldn't be a problem if Mettaton didn't decide to take her ship into his own hands. Trying to catch up with a battery-powered robot is hard work, but telling the truth is even harder. Notes: This is a really silly fic with some hurt/comfort sprinkled in. Has some Soriel and Papyton in the background. Has some Alphys & Papyrus friendship as well which is always underrated in my opinion.
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love-and-monsters · 4 years ago
Text
Polyam Alien Merfolk
GN reader X M mer-alien X F mer-alien, 6,743 words
Crashed on an alien planet and taken in by a couple, this story was uh, pretty self-indulgent for me. Not sure if anyone else is going to like it but I liked writing it.
CW: mentions of being in a cult and descriptions of family death and cult behavior.
“Is it like, alive?”
The voice was soft, coming from just over your head. Something sharp prodded your side. You groaned.
A second voice came from closer to your feet. “Sounds like it’s alive.” This voice was rougher, raspier, though also higher pitched than the first voice.
“Is it hurt, then? We can’t move it if its hurt.” The sharp thing poked your side again. “What if it’s really badly injured?”
Dimly, you were aware of sunlight against your face. Most of your body was covered with your skintight flight suit, but your face was exposed, and, from the feel of it, entirely covered in sand. Actually, given the grittiness in your mouth, most of your insides were coated in sand as well. The hard rock of nausea in your gut told you that you had probably swallowed a decent amount of sand too. Your lungs felt like they’d been aggressively sandblasted. Every breath stung like needles.
“Then there’s nothing we can do and it’ll die,” the second voice said. “It doesn’t look injured. I think. I mean, I don’t know alien anatomy, but everything looks right, doesn’t it? No blood. Nothing’s sticking out weirdly.”
“Internal injuries!” the first voice insisted. “What do we do? A doctor’s not going to know what to do about this.”
The nausea that had been churning in the bottom of your stomach abruptly kicked up a notch. Apparently, your body had decided you were awake enough to retch. Automatically, you twisted onto your side, abdominal muscles heaving, and a gush of fluid poured out of your mouth.
For the next minute or so, you were thoroughly occupied by vomiting. The nasty tang of saltwater mixed with bile filled your mouth and your injured lungs screamed for air every time you heaved. Finally, you were only dry-heaving and coughing into the sand. Somewhere nearby, you could hear the soft rush of waves against shore.
Groaning, you slumped onto your back once more. Sand shifted and crunched as you moved. Your head was clear enough to start putting the pieces together, though. You remembered… a space battle. Your little fighter had been hit. It had fallen.
“Hey.” The first voice was speaking again. You turned your head toward it. “Are you feeling better now?”
The speaker was covered in mottled scales, a dark green-blue near its back and a pale whitish color on its belly. From the waist up, it was humanoid, with a fairly human-looking face, large, fan-like fins along the back of its head and trailing down its back, and finned hands. From the waist down, it had the long, slender and finned body of some kind of sea snake. All of its fins had ruffled, fancy-looking edges and they were flushed a striking shade of red. Next to him was a slightly larger creature of the same species. This one had smaller, much duller fins and a slightly chunkier, rounded frame.
You tried to respond, but all that came out of your throat was a groaning hiss. The first speaker cocked their head at you. “Can you not speak? Could you not do that before or were you hurt?”
“Maybe that’s how it speaks,” the second speaker said.
“No! I’ve seen videos of them before, they speak like we do.” The second speaker rolled their eyes. The first speaker ignored them. “Hey. Hey! You okay? Blink twice for yes!”
You stared at the first speaker. They tilted their head back at you. “No? Not okay?” How were you even supposed to answer that question? You didn’t feel particularly hurt so much as pretty uncomfortable, but you didn’t feel totally put together either. After another moment of consideration, you made eye contact with the first speaker and carefully blinked twice.
“It’s okay!” they cried in utter delight. “Look, see?”
“Then we can move it somewhere. Get the interstellars involved. Go for the head, I’ll get the legs.”
“Why do you get the legs?” the first speaker whined. The second speaker ignored them and seized you by your ankles, hefting your legs up onto their shoulder. The first speaker, grumbling quietly, heaved your top half up.
Despite looking like sea creatures, they navigated the sandy dunes with a surprising level of ease. Within a few minutes, you were being set down on the wooden floor of a tiny, one-room building. The floor was flat underneath you, but you could see a slope leading into the ocean. The home was partially open, allowing for a smooth integration between water and land.
“Can you sit up?” The first speaker carefully lay you against the wall so you were in a seated position. “Naerie, can we get some water?”
The second speaker, Naerie, appeared holding a small, wooden cup. She passed it over to the first speaker, who held it to your mouth. “Here. Drink,” they said.
You sipped slowly. It wasn’t as pure as the water you were used to on your ship- it had a strange, slightly plant-like taste to it. Still, it was water and relatively clean, and it helped focus your mind and soothe your throat.
You leaned away from the water glass and cleared your throat. It was still sore, but it was functional. “Where am I?”
“It speaks,” Naerie said. Their voice was mildly surprised.
“Yeah. It does,” you said. “I… remember crashing here.”
“We saw that,” the first speaker said. “Well, we saw you fall into the ocean and dragged you to shore. I think your suit absorbed most of the impact?”
“They’re designed for kinetic redistribution.” The first speaker nodded, though their expression was entirely devoid of understanding. “Um. That means they’re designed to spread impact shock away from my body. I’m probably bruised, but I shouldn’t have broken anything.”
“I’ve never seen a human before,” the first speaker said. They lifted one of your hands, toying with your fingers curiously. They seemed fascinated by your lack of fins. “Not in person, anyway.”
“Yes. You’re quite a… reclusive species.” Naerie’s lip curled. A sliver of ice-cold worry dropped into the pit of your stomach. “What are you doing here, anyway?”
“It-” An abrupt rush of memories cut your voice off. You remembered running, barely able to feel your limbs through the numbness of fear. You remembered navigating a tiny fighter ship with numb fingers. You remembered flying and flying, not toward anything, but just away, away, away. And then watching the slow failure of your ship’s systems, feeling the ice cold of space leech into your cabin, the thinness of the air. The certainty that you were going to die, cold and alone in space and that somehow, that was entirely better than being where you had been.
“Oh, hey. Shh, shh.” Scaled arms wrapped around you, tugging you against a warm chest. The first speaker was hugging you, nuzzling their face against your head. “It’s okay! You’re safe now.”
“I’m alone,” you said, voice choked. Tears spilled down your cheeks. “I swear. I’m alone. No one’s with me. I didn’t mean to come here. I’ll leave.”
“You don’t have to leave! It’s okay!” The first speaker tugged you into their chest and glared at the other. “Naerie! Be nice! It’s okay, shh, shh.” They rocked back and forth, pressing your head to their chest. “You’re okay. You’re safe now.”
“If you’re alone, then I suppose it’s fine,” Naerie said. They seemed unsettled by your sudden tears. “All right. Terraso, let them lie back. We should get a good look at them, make sure they’re not hurt.”
You ended up wearing only the thin undersuit of your flight suit while Naerie probed at you delicately. In the end, it was determined that you were likely badly bruised, but not seriously injured. As Naerie prodded at your body, Terraso prodded at your mind by conversing cheerily. Names and pronouns were formally exchanged, and you learned that your rescuers were a couple, and lived on their own on the outskirts of a large city.
“I don’t suppose you have anywhere to go,” Naerie said, glancing you over. “You lost everything with your ship, didn’t you?”
You nodded. Technically, the only thing you had lost was a second set of clothes, but they didn’t need to know that. “I know how to live on my own.” Not really true, but you were pretty sure you could figure something out. “I can-”
“Absolutely not!” Terraso reared up on his long, serpentine lower half. “If you don’t have anywhere to stay, you should stay with us.” He turned, looking pleadingly at Naerie. “We can’t just kick her out.”
Naerie, despite her cool nature, didn’t seem keen on kicking you out either. Her brow puckered as she looked you up and down. “No, I suppose not,” she said. “You look as though you’re one missed meal away from starvation.”
You laughed. “It’s fine. I’ve missed plenty of meals before.”
Terraso and Naerie stared at you. Apparently that statement wasn’t as reassuring as you’d expected it to be. “You’re staying,” Naerie said. “Tomorrow, we can go into the city and see if we can get you set up with a life preserver pass. It’ll at least let you stay for a couple of months.”
“Life preserver pass?” you repeated.
“It’s like an emergency citizenship card. For people who end up planetside on accident, and are having trouble getting back home. If you get a citizen to stick up for you, you can get a life preserver pass until you figure out how to go home again,” Terraso said.
“That’s the simplified version. There’s a little more to it than that. Terms and conditions and all that. But you don’t need to know that to fill out the paperwork,” Naerie said.
Terraso rolled his eyes and leaned close to speak in a stage whisper. “Don’t mind her. She works for interplanetary governmental communications. Lots of paperwork.”
You nodded. “What do you do?”
“Oh. Mind the house, mostly.” Terraso rolled onto his back, swishing his tail idly.
You stared. “Mind the house?”
“You know. Cook, clean, make sure everything’s all nice for Naerie when she comes home,” Terraso said.
You mulled that over. “You don’t have a job?”
Terraso shrugged. “I mean, I keep everything in the household running. That’s kind of a job. When we have kids someday, I’ll take care of them.” He gave Naerie an eager look. She smiled back at him. “Didn’t they have house spouses where you came from?”
“Everyone worked,” you said. “Both my parents. All my siblings. If you had time to relax, you had too much time on your hands.”
Naerie and Terraso exchanged a look. “Where did you say you were from again?” Naerie asked. Her voice was soft, like she was talking to something easily spooked. You bristled at the implication.
“I’m from the Unity Formation,” you said. Naerie looked at Tarraso. He shrugged.
“Okay. Well. You’ve been through a lot. Why don’t you let Terraso take care of you for a while? I’ll start getting things set up for going into the city and getting you a life preserver pass.” They exchanged a couple more significant looks as Naerie slipped into the water at the other side of the house. It seemed strange, but you were too exhausted to care. You slumped back against the wall.
“You want anything to eat?” Terraso asked. There was a forced, cheery note in his voice. “You really are skinny. It’d probably be good for you to eat.”
It was clear he was trying to distract you, but you were hungry enough to allow it. “Sure.” Terraso grinned and started rummaging through cabinets, chattering cheerily all the while. His voice rose and fell like a wave. After a little bit, you didn’t even hear the individual words anymore. Just the soothing sound of his voice.
The next morning, Nearie provided you with some clothes. They were toga-like, made more for her legless species than yours, but you accepted them regardless. They covered everything important, anyway. Terraso fussed over you until you had eaten nearly two large helpings of breakfast. Feeling uncomfortably full, you left with your companions for the city.
The city was built much in the same way as their house- partially submerged, with other members of the alien species slipping in and out of water with ease. However, you noticed a few other land-walkers, like you, walking easily through the part of the city that was on land.
Naerie noticed you looking. “This city’s one of the more progressive ones. It’s the only interstellar spaceport, so we get a lot of other species here. Not many humans, though.”
You shook your head. “That’s okay.” A hulking, bladed creature strode by. You tried not to stare. There were more species here than you’d ever seen in your entire life. Gawking at them would probably not make a good first impression. Naerie saved you by slithering up to the front door of a tall, stately building and gesturing you inside.
It was several hours of bureaucratic wrangling before you could leave the building again, this time with a subdermal implant marking your status as a temporary citizen. You toyed at the small bump on your skin. It was designed for easy removal, but you couldn’t stop prodding at it, barely holding in the urge to rip it back out. The feeling of something like that under your skin again was unsettling.
The next stop was the shopping district. There were a few small, out-of-the-way shops that catered to bipeds, and you left laden with new clothes. The variety was amazing- you had never seen so many different kinds of fabric in your life, or so many rich, vibrant colors. It was almost overwhelming.
“Is this all right?” you asked as the three of you left the shop. “It must have been expensive. I can try to pay you back-”
“Don’t worry about it,” Naerie said, waving her hand in your direction. “Temporary citizens get a small stipend to fund their lives here until they can get stabilized or off planet.”
“Oh.” You looked down at the clothes. “And you’re okay with me staying with you? I don’t want to be a bother. I-”
“I think it’s exciting!” Terraso cut in. “I’ve never really interacted with a human before.”
Naerie smiled warmly at him. “Terraso’s always been fascinated with aliens. And, regardless, we’re not the sort of people who throw those in need out on the street.” She gave a disdainful sniff, displaying her opinion of those sort of people.
The city glittered with glass spires as you headed out of the shopping district and into an area that smelled mouthwatering. “Want to get some lunch?” Terraso asked. His body bumped lightly against yours as he spoke. He had a habit of doing that, freely letting a hand rest on your side to pressing his shoulder against yours. You nearly jumped every time he touched you. The casual nature of it was surprising.
“I’m not hungry,” you said. “I had a lot for breakfast.” Not to mention that lunch was more of a holiday treat than something you ate every day.
“That was quite a few hours ago,” Naerie said. “You don’t eat much, do you?”
“I’m used to having only two meals a day,” you said, an edge of defensiveness creeping into your voice. Terraso and Naerie exchanged looks again.
In the end, Terraso convinced you to try some sort of fried plant that was apparently the city’s specialty. It was far richer and oilier than anything you’d ever eaten before, and you had to nibble it slowly. Terraso chattered amiably about the city- apparently he was something of an architect nerd and could list off a few interesting facts about most buildings, even the ones that didn’t look particularly impressive.
By the time you had returned home, you were exhausted, and your stomach was in revolt over the fried food. You spent most of the night hunched over their toilet while Naerie and Terraso alternately checked on you.
“I’m really sorry! I didn’t think it would make you sick,” Terraso said, tucking a blanket over your shoulders. You retched once more, bringing up thin bile. “I’ve seen humans eat that stuff before, so I just thought…”
“Maybe I’m allergic to it,” you suggested. Terraso made a chirruping noise of surprise.
“You weren’t gene treated for allergies as a kid?” he asked.
“Was I what?”
“Gene treated? You know, they do the histamine test and then they correct mast cells and…” He stared at your confused expression. “It’s standard medical procedure. Nobody gets sick or dies from allergies anymore.”
You shook your head. “We didn’t have it, I guess. I might not be allergic, anyway. I’ve never had anything like that before. Mostly, we had nutri-slurry.”
Terraso fussed with the edges of the blanket, twisting it between his hands as he tucked it around you again. “Did you grow up on a station in deep space?”
“Er.” You paused. “I grew up on a station.”
“You’re supposed to have one year planetside for every four years on the station. And more to eat than nutri-slurries.” Terraso’s tone was less scolding and more concerned. He gave you a look with his big, soft eyes. “Are you feeling any better? Less sick?”
“I’m okay,” you said. “You don’t have to stay. I’ll be fine.”
“Mm. I don’t believe you,” Terraso said. “You seem like one of those people who won’t admit to being sick even when you’re a fin’s thickness from death.”
“Being sick isn’t an excuse for missed work,” you mumbled. The memorized phrase jumped to your lips before you had time to even think about it. Terraso’s expression flickered for a moment before smoothing back to kindness.
“You don’t have any work to do right now, so why don’t you just rest?” Terraso curled his tail beneath him and smoothed the blanket between your shoulders. “Get some sleep. I’ll stay here.”
You were too weary to protest. Instead, you snuggled further under the blanket and closed your eyes. Even the twisting of your stomach wasn’t enough to keep you from the warm embrace of sleep.
Gradually, you settled into a sort of routine with your rescuers. You woke in the morning, ate breakfast, and Naerie would go to work. Then Terraso and you would take care of any household chores that needed doing. Given that there were two of you, it took much less time than usual, and Terraso would usually spend the rest of the day teaching you about the local culture. It was overwhelming at times, the level of variety that was present. So different from your home, it made your head spin.
As you got bolder with your questions, you noticed Naerie and Terraso exchanging looks more often. You just started calling it the Look in your head- you would say something about your home and they would give each other the Look. The Look usually meant the next few minutes would be full of awkward tension, while Naerie and Terraso circumnavigated the topic.
The first few times the Look occurred, it was strange. After that it quickly made its way to annoying, then straight up frustrating.
When they exchanged the Look after you spoke about the oddness of the local week-long festival, you put your foot down.
“If you think I haven’t noticed the two of you sneaking glances at each other every time I mention something from my home, you’re wrong,” you said. Terraso froze like a kid sneaking extra slurry. Naerie, on the other hand, seemed entirely unaffected. She put her utensils down and steepled her fingers, as best she could with webbed digits.
“We weren’t intending to keep anything from you,” she said. “But… ugh, I’m not going to dance around the reef anymore. Where exactly did you come from? You crashed here looking half starved, you usually refuse to discuss your old life, except cryptic, concerning details, and everything seems to suggest you crashed here on accident while running away from something. So. What were you running from?”
“I’m not a criminal,” you said. It came out far more defensive than you intended. Terraso sucked in a breath through his teeth and tried to play intermediary.
“We don’t think you’re a criminal! We don’t! That wasn’t what we were suggesting. We’re concerned, though,” he said, his voice softening. “We want to know that you’re safe. You don’t talk about your life before you came here. We’re just worried about you.”
“I’m fine.” Your voice was sharp, automatic. Defensiveness bristled all over you, like quills. “There is no reason to be concerned. I am still able to complete my duties.” Terraso blinked and he and Naerie exchanged the Look. “And stop doing that!”
“We didn’t mean to upset you. We’re only trying to look out for you.”
“I have been doing fine,” you said. “Please. Leave it.” Your voice shivered at the end. You swallowed. A shiver of fear rippled down your spine and dug into the pit of your stomach.
Terraso lifted his hands and spread his fins. “Hey,” he said, his voice lowering. “Hey, hey. It’s okay. You’re all right.” He moved slowly toward you until he was within touching distance. Despite being close enough to hold you, he just extended his hands, like he was waiting for you to make the first move. “Breathe. Just breathe. You’re safe. I swear you’re safe here. Just wait for a moment until you come back to us. Okay?”
The soothing rise and fall of his tone relaxed something in the back of your brain. Your chest loosened and the trembling fear in your gut eased. Tentatively, you reached out and touched his hand. His fingers closed around yours, loose enough that you could pull away if you wanted to.
“You don’t have to talk about it if you don’t want to,” Naerie said. She was speaking in the same soothing register as Terraso, though she was somewhat less practiced at it. “I’m just worried. I want to know that you’re okay.”
Her voice was unbearably tender on the last word. Terraso’s thumb traced along the back of your knuckles. The combination of two, tiny, kind actions made something in you, something that had barely been holding steady all this time, crack.
Sobs shuddered through your chest. Terraso made a quiet cooing noise and you slumped blindly, fumblingly, into him. Naerie slipped around him to rest a gentle hand on your back. For several moments, they held you up as you cried.
Somehow, you weren’t entirely sure how, you ended up on the floor, cradled between Naerie and Terraso. One of Terraso’s cheeks rested on your head. Naerie was rubbing your back up and down in slow, loose circles. “Feeling better?” Terraso asked quietly.
“I think so,” you said. Despite the tension releasing in your chest, you couldn’t get your fingers to relax on Terraso’s arm. He didn’t mention it. “I- I know you’re worried.”
“You don’t have to talk about it,” Naerie said. “I shouldn’t have pushed it.”
“No. I know I should talk about it. It’s… not happy, though.” You took in a deep breath. Terraso nuzzled you comfortingly. “It’s… I spent most of my life on the Unification Centralized space station. My parents joined when I was two. It was supposed to be this… utopia, I guess. A self-sustaining space station. But it wasn’t that. Once you were on the station, you couldn’t leave, and you had to work for the greater good. They said that all the time. You needed to work for the greater good. If you weren’t working, if you got sick, it meant you weren’t strong enough, that there was something wrong with you. And that was life. You worked and you tried to keep on the good side of the leadership, and if you didn’t you were in trouble.”
Naerie was looking at you with a combination of worry and horror. You glanced toward her face, but you couldn’t maintain eye contact. “I… left. My little sister- she was born after my parents joined. She got sick. Really sick. They said that she was being… I don’t know, punished for something.” Tears stung at your eyes, but your emotions had become manageable enough to repress them. “She died. Because we weren’t allowed to get help for her. And I didn’t know where to go after that but I knew I couldn’t stay there.”
“So, you left,” Terraso said. “That must have been terrifying.”
“It wasn’t, really,” you said. “I mean, it was. But it all seemed really far away. I didn’t want to die, but I guess I figured that staying there was a death sentence anyway, so it didn’t matter. I just… I had to leave. I had to.”
There was silence for a few minutes. Terraso rested his head on your shoulder. Naerie’s arm lay across your shoulders. Their touch felt stabilizing, grounding, like it was what was pulling you to the planet, not the gravity.
“I’m sorry,” Naerie said. “I’m sorry that happened to you. And I’m sorry about your sister.”
“Thank you.” Your voice grated in your throat. You cleared it a few times.
“How did you come here?” Terraso asked. “Did you just pick a planet to go to at random?”
You snorted. “I didn’t even get that far. I just tried to go in a different direction from the space station as fast as I could. I used one of the little space hoppers, the ones that are only supposed to be used for short travels. They don’t have onboard navigation systems.”
“That was reckless,” Naerie said. “You could have died. You almost did die.”
You shrugged. “I know. Like I said, I wasn’t really all that focused on surviving. I just wanted to get away.”
Terraso hugged you. His tail swung up, loosely wrapping around your waist. Naerie petted your head absently, though her gaze was distant.
“Please focus on surviving now,” Terraso said. His voice came out soft enough that it was almost a murmur. “It’s… scary to hear you talk like that. Like you don’t care if you live or die.”
You brushed your hand along his head, prompting his fins to stand to attention. “It’s okay. I’m feeling better now. It’s easier, with you two here. Like I have something to live for.”
Naerie smiled at you. Her eyes softened, glittering with emotion in a way you’d only seen when she looked at Terraso. Something in your chest tightened and loosened in the same moment.
“I have a suggestion,” Naerie said. “You have never experienced anything like the festival before, have you?” You shook your head. Naerie smiled. “Well. Why don’t we go out? It will be a good experience for you to have fun.”
Terraso perked up, lifting his head off your shoulders. “Yes! We haven’t been to one of the festivals in so long and it’s so much better with someone who hasn’t been before! You’ll love it.” He straightened up, tail coiling and uncurling with enthusiasm. “Only if you want to go, of course,” he added, looking at you with uncertainty.
“I’ve never been to one before,” you said, “so I won’t know what it is you’re supposed to do…”
Terraso grabbed your hands, squeezing them in his. “You’re not supposed to do anything except have fun! It’ll be good, I promise! And if you’re not having a good time, we can just go home.”
“It’s true. There’s no reason we can’t come back if you aren’t enjoying yourself,” Naerie said. “I think you’d enjoy it. And I think I’d enjoy seeing you have fun.”
“Okay, okay. If you both are so excited, then we’ll go. I just need a minute to get ready-”
“Meet us outside in ten,” Naerie said. She slipped underwater with Terraso, presumably so they could both get ready themselves.
Ten minutes later, Naerie met you outside. She flicked her fins casually in the faint sunlight that filtered through the clouds. “Terraso will be along in a moment. He likes to dress up.”
“Dress up?” The concept of getting into fancy dress to go places was still a bit of a foreign concept to you. Everyone had worn the same uniform in your old home.
“He likes the festivals,” Naerie said. “You’ll see.”
Almost as soon as she’d finished speaking, Terraso emerged from the sea, squirming in excitement. His fins seemed a brighter shade of red than usual, though you weren’t sure if he was slightly flushed or if it was an effect of the bright gold piercings he’d applied. A few of them even had red, fluttering cloths attached to them, giving the impression that he had more fins than he did.
“Are we ready to go?” he asked. Naerie smiled, linking one of her arms through his. The way her eyes roved over his body almost made you blush.
“We were waiting on you.” She reached out and, to your surprise, linked her other arm through yours. You tried not to look too surprised. As strange as it was, you didn’t want to do anything that might make her let go.
The city was enveloped in brilliant lights when you arrived. Aliens and natives alike were out in the streets, laughing and talking and shouting amongst themselves. The air smelled of a hundred different things, all delicious. Stalls were set up all over the streets, most of them with various pieces of art or food or souvenirs for sale. A few of them seemed to be offering some sort of lessons in art or dance or other such things. It was almost immediately overwhelming. Not negatively overwhelming, but it took you a moment to process everything.
“You should decide what we do first,” Terraso said. He looked at you with bright, eager eyes. “See anything you like?”
“Er,” you said. There were a lot of things that looked interesting, but you couldn’t sort out what a lot of them were, much less what you would enjoy.
“Terraso,” Naerie said. “Why don’t you pick first? We’ve been here before, after all, so we should be guides.”
In the end, Terraso dragged you over to some sort of simple game that consisted of tossing small balls into several different containers. You tried a couple of times, but the game was a lot more difficult than it looked. After quite a few tries, Terraso managed to score enough points to receive a stuffed toy resembling one of the many eel-like creatures that lived in their oceans.
“Here!” He thrust it into your arms, smiling triumphantly. You blinked down at it, a little confused.
“I don’t need this?” you said. “You don’t even have stuffed animals in your house. Why were you so intent on winning it? I don’t even think it’s particularly well made.”
“That’s not the point!” Terraso said, still grinning broadly. “The point is winning! Especially winning something for someone else!”
“He loves those games,” Naerie said, leaning over to speak quietly in your ear. “He’ll spend all our money on those things if we let him.”
You looked down at the stuffed toy in your arms. It looked pretty wonky, honestly. “Why? You could probably buy one of these for pretty cheap. Why spend so much money to win it? There’s no point.”
Naerie smiled slightly, eyes glittering. “Of course there’s a point. It’s to have fun.”
Naerie ended up drawing you over to some art booths. There were some live demonstrations, even things like glass blowing. You were fascinated by the careful motions, the way the demonstrator was able to twist blazingly hot glass into delicate shapes. Apparently taking into account how fascinated you were, Naerie practically shoved you into the arena the instant the demonstrator asked for a volunteer.
The demonstrator was kind and gentle as he helped you through the moves. In the end, you had a small replica of an undersea plant. Apparently you had a knack for shaping glass and the demonstrator insisted that you have another lesson when you came to pick up the piece from him.
“Perhaps there’s an apprenticeship there for you,” Naerie said as you rejoined her and Terraso.
“An apprenticeship?” you repeated. It hadn’t been something you were considering.
“Just a suggestion,” Naerie said. “You seemed to enjoy it and he seemed like a good teacher. I was only thinking- you’ve been here for a while. Perhaps it’s time to start… setting down roots?”
Her voice was delicate, gentle, but you could feel the intensity behind both her and Terraso’s gazes. It was true- you’d been living with them for a while, but you hadn’t really made any preparations to fend for yourself. You’d just been sort of floating.
“It’s something to think about,” Naerie said, putting a soft hand on your arm. “You don’t need to think about it right now.”
Your stomach picked that moment to interrupt. Terraso burst into high-pitched giggles. You glared. “Maybe we should get something to eat,” he said. “Something that’s not too hard on your stomach.” You pulled a face. They’d never forgotten your incident after the fried food and, in all fairness, you couldn’t either. Your stomach had adjusted to some of the heavier fare, but you were still prodded to nausea by anything with too much grease.
Naerie ended up picking some kind of grilled plant matter skewered on a thin wooden stick. Terraso practically crawled over her back as she took the sticks from the vendor. “Here, here, take it,” she said, passing him the stick. He bit into it delightedly, tail wriggling. She offered you one as well and you bit into it tentatively.
The fruit was sweet and salty in equal measure, with just a bit of bitterness from the char. You practically ripped into it, eating it with a ravenous fervor. Within a minute, it was gone.
Naerie laughed. “We’ll have to get you some more of those,” she said. She held out her own stick. “Here. You can have a bit of mine, too.”
You paused. Naerie had already taken a few bites out of it, and she was holding it out to you like she was just expecting you to take a bite while she was holding it. Somehow, that idea came across as almost unbearably intimate. A flush started to creep up your face. Still, Naerie was looking at you with expectance. Maybe you were overreacting? And even if you weren’t… you wanted to. Slowly, you leaned forward and took a delicate bite of the sweet fruit.
Naerie smiled. “Good?” Her voice had taken on a melodic tone, one that made your blushing even worse. You nodded slowly.
“Good,” you said. Terraso smiled and winked at you over Naerie’s shoulder. You looked down at the ground, flustered. “Er. We should, er. Keep going, right?”
The rest of the night was spent wandering the festival, attending the booths and activities. There was more to experience than you’d ever seen before- rides and shows and games all in a riot of colors. At some point, Naerie had pressed alcohol into your hands and you’d started drinking. Terraso was in a similar drunken state, giggling and flopping around, his slithering unsteady.
When the three of you made it back home, all of you were tipsy, bordering on drunk. Naerie was the most sober, but that wasn’t necessarily saying much. She managed to get both you and Terraso in the door before she slumped against a wall, giggling faintly.
Terraso was wrapped around you like a scaly rope, tightening his grip every time you tried to wriggle free. His head was pressed into the side of your neck, fins tickling lightly against your skin.
“Tired,” he mumbled. “Go to bed.”
“You can go to bed, if you want, but you gotta let go!” you said.
“No!” Terraso nuzzled further into your neck. “I want to sleep with yooouuu.”
“I can’t sleep underwater. I’ll drown,” you reminded him.
“Then I’ll sleep up here,” he declared. He lifted his head from your neck and, with some effort, focused his attention on Naerie. “Come on! Come sleep with us!” He made grabby hands at her, then started giggling. “Ooh. Sleep together. Ha ha. We shooouuuld.”
The double entendre made your cheeks grow warm. “Oh, I don’t know about that,” you said, trying to gently pry him off of you. That only made him cling tighter.
“But Naerie said she wouldn’t miiind,” Terraso said. He tilted his head, hanging off of you so he was looking at Naerie upside down. “Right? You said you wouldn’t miiiiiiind, Naerie.” He looped his arms tighter around your neck. “You’re so nice and pretty.” He hiccupped. “And- and- I love yooouuu.” His face was almost completely buried in your neck, muffling his voice. “I love you and Naerie and I wanna be with both of you! Naerie agrees!”
You looked up at Naerie. She was staring at you with wide eyes. It was hard to tell with her species, but you were pretty sure she was blushing. “He’s very drunk,” she said apologetically. “He tends to be, er. Very open when he has too much.” She held her hands out. “Here, I can take him and make sure he gets to bed okay.”
“Noooo!” Terraso wailed. He wrapped around you as tightly as he could. “Not goin’ anywhere!”
Perhaps you also had gotten a little tipsy, because you were feeling unusually bold. “I don’t mind,” you said. “If he wants to stay with me, that’s fine. He can sleep in my bed tonight.”
“Yay!” Terraso mumbled from his position against your shoulder. Naerie seemed conflicted, but she helped you and Terraso into bed. Despite how awkward it made things, Terraso was very insistent on not letting go of you at all.
“What he was talking about before,” you said as Naerie helped you into bed. “That stuff he said, about…”
“About the sleeping with you?” Naerie asked. She sounded unusually unsteady. “Yes. It was. I’m sure he wouldn’t have said anything if the drink hadn’t rendered him completely senseless.” Despite her words, her tone was affectionate. “We didn’t want to make you uncomfortable.”
“It doesn’t,” you said hurriedly. Terraso moaned and somehow managed to snuggle closer to you. “I like you. Both of you. You’re the first people who’ve ever been really nice to me. And you’re both so sweet and Terraso’s funny and you’re so caring- I don’t think I could ever find anyone better.”
“I was hesitant to approach you about it,” Naerie said in a slow, uncertain voice. “I didn’t want to make you feel pressured to be in a relationship with us because we’re the ones helping you. But we… have discussed it. Polyamorous relationships are fairly common among our species. We’ve been interested.”
“I’ve never had any kind of relationship before,” you said. “Not a romantic one, anyway. So I’ll be a little new to this. If you’re still okay with going through with this?”
Naerie smiled and leaned closer to you. One of her hands lingers on your face. “I think I would be interested in teaching you. And I’m certain you couldn’t drag Terraso away with wild therians.”
“It’s true,” Terraso mumbled into your shoulder.
Something in your stomach fluttered. “If- if you’re sure, then.”
Naerie smiled. “I could not be more sure,” she said. She leaned in, then paused, your faces less than an inch apart. You realized she was waiting for you to make the next move. It took you a moment to steel your confidence, then you leaned in and pressed your lips to hers.
The kiss was clumsy and uncertain, but it managed to be good nonetheless. When you broke apart again, you were giggling giddily.
“Perhaps you need practice,” Naerie said, a faint smile playing with her mouth.
“I’ll help,” Terraso declared. He pressed a sloppy kiss to the corner of your mouth. Naerie laughed, easing him off of you and into bed. His tail wrapped around your leg insistently, though, and there was no way you would be able to pry it off.
“I suppose we’re staying up here tonight,” Naerie said. Terraso nuzzled into your side with a happy sigh. Naerie smiled. “He’s happy, at least.”
“I’m happy too,” you said. Naerie looked up at you, eyes soft with affection.
“Yes. I am too.”
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daetaechanster · 4 years ago
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Deku, Bakugo and Kirishima
Okay I wanna preface this post by saying first, this isn’t a post about Bakudeku (you’re itching to call me out, I feel it, but don’t do it) and while I will be mentioning the Kiribaku ship, it will be me mostly mentioning the FANS of this ship and the ideals around that ship. If this doesn’t apply to you, please gloss over it. This post was caused by once again, seeing SOME Kiribaku’s speak absolute garbage all over Tiktok. Wrong garbage mind you. Now let me start..
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When was it, that fans suddenly decided that for Kiribaku to be a ship, that suddenly people had to downplay Deku’s importance in Bakugo’s life. Yes, Bakugo use to bully Deku and he was wrong for it, he was a little fucking shithead for it. But that was in chapter one of the manga and season 1 episode 1 of the show. Where are we now? About to hit chapter 305 (leaks today whoo) and we’re about hit season 5. Things of changed, Bakugo has changed, and if you can pick up what Horikoshi is putting down, then you KNOW things have changed in their relationship.
Now what these Tiktoker Kiribaku’s like to claim is that Bakugo doesn’t care about Deku, doesn’t even LIKE Deku. That the only person Bakugo cares about is Kirishima... you can headcanon all you like that Kirishima is Bakugo’s most important person. You can 100% believe that and use it for your fanon content. But that is all it is, headcanon and fanon, because it isn’t true. And BECAUSE it isn’t true and is fanon, Do not come at people who believe CANON FACT and tell them they’re wrong and your headcanon is right.
Why does Bakugo’s relationship with Deku have to be diminished for Kiribaku’s ship to flourish? Why? When did that become a thing? because a LOT of people spread around this garbage like it’s fact.
Now i’m going to get into the major point these Tiktoker Kiribaku’s made, and what I think is the worst take i’ve ever heard. Ahem.
‘Kirishima cared about Bakugo the most which is why he went to Kamino to save him, and Bakugo cared about Kirishima the most which is why he took his hand’
I’m going to get into how WRONG this statement is. 
The person who found out that Bakugo was going to be kidnapped was Deku. Deku found out during his fight with Muscular and after the fight was over, his first thought was to get Kota to safety so he could save Kacchan. He told the pussycat lady to alert everyone to Kacchan’s possible kidnapping, which is where Kirishima heard about it.
As you’d expect, Kirishima got upset and instantly wanted to go out and help protect Bakugo. Why? because he is his FRIEND. Canonly they’re not together so we are going forward with their platonic relationship, which is canon. He wanted to save his friends, as did others in the group, but he wanted to save him most. But he couldn’t. (Something we later learned was a trigger for Kirishima in season 4)
Because Deku was out on the field, he was able to go and try to save Bakugo. That boy ran around, in absolute pain to the point that some of the class commented on the fact he should be unconcious right now. But that didn’t matter because he wanted to save Bakugo. And he tried his hardest, despite being in pain and his arms not working, Bakugo gets taken, telling Deku ‘Not to come’. I like to believe he said that because Deku was injured and WOULD be killed following him, because Bakugo knows Deku would follow him into fire. Like Deku knows Bakugo best, Bakugo also knows Deku best (minus the whole looking down on him stuff, wtf Bakugo.) But because that was never established, we’ll leave that up to interpretation.
Something these Tiktokers used in their arguement was that Kirishima was the one who decided to save Bakugo, nobody else. Which.. just isn’t true at all. Another thing they said was DEKU DIDN’T PLAN TO SAVE HIM. Again, not true.
Lets go back to before Deku was in hospital and Bakugo was kidnapped. When Bakugo was gone, Deku SCREAMED in absolute DISPAIR (these tiktokers also commented that Deku hates Bakugo and all I can do is LOL, won’t even entertain that.) Deku was in such ABSOLUTE DISPAIR that he instantly went into shock. Shock, that he said, lasted for the 2 whole days in hospital, he couldn’t remember a thing. The only moment he remembers WHY he was in shock, was when the whole class were there and Todoroki told him about it.
Also at this point, while Deku is in shock, Kirishima and Todoroki had 2 whole days with a clear head to decide they were going to save Bakugo, consequences be damned.
What happened after remembering Kacchan was taken? Deku came out of his shock and burst into tears. He failed to save Kacchan and it HURT him. And then Kirishima mentions the rescue.. the rescue that he AND TODOROKI PLANNED. Do people not remember that while Kirishima had decided he was going to save Bakugo, that Todoroki ALSO had the same plan?? That if Kirishima hadn’t intended to save him, Todoroki would have mentioned the plan to Deku himself???
I 100% believe, as should ANYONE who knows Deku as a character and as someone who’s always cared about Bakugo despite him being an asshat, would have also come up with a plan to save Bakugo if he hadn’t been in hospital with damaged arms and in complete shock and disassociation.
I now want to point out a panel that people seem to forget:
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For people to believe Deku doesn’t care as much as Kirishima does about Bakugo, how is it your boy is saying the complete OPPOSITE statement???
Now skip forward to finding Bakugo and AFO. While Kirishima (and Todoroki) had decided they were going to rescue Bakugo, it was Deku who came up with the plan to get Bakugo out of there. Deku planned the best possible way to get Bakugo out of there and not damage his pride in the meantime. Deku could have been selfish and have reached out for Bakugo, because we all know Deku wanted to have been the one to reach out his hand. But he didn’t because Deku knows Bakugo best and didn’t want to possibly upset him.
Bakugo, who feels incredibly insecure when it comes to Deku, how do you think he’d have reacted if Deku saved him A SECOND TIME? First the sludge villian and now Kamino? I’d wager that Deku would expect any chance of reconsilliation between himself and Bakugo to have died that moment if he’d reached out to save him.
Lets be honest, Bakugo would have taken ANYONES hand to get out of there and i’ll explain why that is true in a moment.
Another thing people seem to forget is that Bakugo didn’t tell Kirishima he was the one who should hold his hand out. Bakugo didn’t tell Kirishima that he would only take his hand. No, DEKU said this. Deku who knows Bakugo better than ANYONE. He knew, because currently his and Bakugo’s relationship was rocky, that he couldn’t risk Bakugo’s pride getting in the way of the rescue. So DEKU chose Kirishima to reach out his hand, because Kirishima isn’t someone Bakugo feels threatened by. Deku is Bakugo’s biggest insecurity, him reaching out was a risk Deku wasn’t going to place over saving Bakugo. 
Again, Bakugo didn’t mention ANY of this, he didn’t even know. So how anyone came to the conclusion that canonly, this meant that Bakugo believed Kirishima to be more important than anyone else I will never know.
And when they did save him, Horikoshi put in a VERY BIG CLUE that a lot of people gloss over.
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That teeth grit there was put INTENTIONALLY to show that even with Kirishima’s hand out.. he still didn’t want to take it, he didn’t want to have been saved. This is why I believe that he would have taken ANYONE’S hand. For anime fans, this teeth grit was cut out to instead focus on how close Shigaraki got to grabbing Bakugo. 
Bakugo isn’t stupid, he knew he couldn’t stay. For one, he already mentioned that he was in All Mights way by being there. So he HAD NO CHOICE but to take Kirishima’s hand. And when he was saved, he addressed EVERYONE for saving him, not just Kirishima.
Now, for non manga readers, you will have to wait until season 5 to see Bakugo and Deku’s relationship flourish and I don’t want to spoil you. I’m so excited for people to see what their relationship is going to turn into and why it’s one of the most popular canon relationships in the show (and how it’s grown to be one of the biggest ships)
I will give you this though, to indicate just how much Deku means to Bakugo now without spoiling it for anyone. Anyone whos read the manga should know how Bakugo feels about Deku.
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For anyone who feels that Bakugo taking Kirishima’s hand indicated how important they were to each other, i’d like to hope you have the same energy for that cover for Vol.29 of the manga drawn by Horikoshi himself. If Bakugo went back, he would have taken Deku’s hand all along. At the river, in Kamino, during the fight. Bakugo wants to hold Deku’s hand now, he wants Deku’s friendship, he wants Deku, and that is platonically canon.
The last thing I want to say is that Kiribaku as a ship can still exist without ignoring how much Bakugo and Deku mean to each other. Kirishima and Bakugo are friends, maybe even best friends canonly (though honestly i’d argue that Kaminari is closer to Bakugo but that’s my personal opinion.)
Deku’s best friends are Iida and Uraraka, but Bakugo is still the person he loves and cares about the most.
Bakugo’s best friends are Kirishima and Kaminari, but Deku is still the person he loves and cares about the most.
Do you see people push Bakugo down to make IzuOcha work? no.
Wanna headcanon that Kirishima is Bakugo’s most important person? Go right ahead. But don’t push it on others as fact when it’s not.
If you have to come to other peoples spaces and force your headcanon on them and disminish the utterly beautiful relationship thats blossoming between Bakugo and Deku, then maybe you shouldn’t be in the fandom. Horikoshi wants you to know how important these boys are to each other and if you can’t see that, don’t comment publically because you sound dumb.
Ship Kiribaku, but do not attack others for things that you have WRONG.
Tldr; Stop erasing Bakugo and Deku’s canon relationship to big up your Kiribaku ship and don’t force that on other people.
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Note
I'm not sure Gojo has ever even shown an interest to any girls.
He calls Utahime weak and teases her by making fun of her, essentially- which she hates. Mei Mei is incredibly strong and beautiful, and Gojo acknowledges her skill but that's it. I also noticed that in the anime (the manga doesn't have honorifics, so please correct me if I'm wrong) but he calls her Mei-san rather than Mei Mei. Therefore, I don't think he ever tried to get much closer to her than the interactions we've seen. When she asks him if he'd comfort her if she cried, he tells her that's she strong- she wouldn't cry. I thought it was interesting that while Mei Mei's question was slightly flirty, Gojo answered so simply, without any teasing.
He calls Shoko by her first name, which is understandable since they spend more time together being in the same grade. He realizes that her ability is rare and useful, but like with Utahime and Mei Mei he doesn't go any further than that. He mostly speaks to her about work related things and doesn't flirt or tease much at all.
Honestly, I think Gojo actually respects his female colleagues and mostly pokes fun at Utahime because she's so uptight and strict. Shoko and Mei Mei are more relaxed and self-assured, and Gojo recognizes their skills and compliments them for it rather than teasing them. I doubt Gojo really thinks Utahime is truly weak more than he just loves riling her up. Other than that, Gojo's pretty respectful.
Also, in the Hidden Inventory arc, Gojo was bombarded with screaming from all the girls excited to see him. Other than pulling his shades down so they could see his face- after they asked him to, btw- he didn't really do much else. He didn't even react much to the teacher giving him her phone number. His only comment was "what a fun school," and it's interesting to see that while lots of girls do appreciate his looks, he acts only mildly amused.
Other than that one model as his wallpaper, we don't really see Gojo flirt or show interest with anyone. He only really teases Utahime to piss her off- I suspect he hates how much she follows the rules like Nanami does, who he teases often as well. He likely just enjoys annoying people so stern because rules just don't sit well with him (especially because of what those "rules" had done to Geto).
It's just a possibility, but he could be one of those guys who's more interested in work than pleasure- I know, he's handsome, but not all handsome people are players and cheaters. I think that's a horrible stigma and a lot of attractive people irl are judged and criticized solely for their looks. People make too many assumptions on someone just based on their genes, and I think it's pretty shallow to think Gojo's a womanizer just because he's attractive. And he knows he's attractive- but when did being confident in yourself make you a philanderer? Gojo has never used his looks manipulatively at all.
It's definitely a possibility that he would be a womanizer, but I'd say it's unlikely based in what we've seen. To sum it all up, Gojo doesn't show interest in anyone. He teases Utahime often, likely for the same reason be teases Nanami- they're too uptight. Shoko and Mei Mei are both incredibly skilled and beautiful sorcerers, and he does acknowledge and compliment them for it, but he doesn't tease or flirt with them. He's respectful, and he works with them as his colleagues. He didn't get distracted by the teen girls fawning over him either, or suddenly get overtly cocky or show off, only sliding his glasses down so they could see his face, and even then he acted only mildly amused. Also, when Miwa asked him for a picture, he didn't even stay and chat with her or anything (I know she's a minor, but if he truly was a womanizer, he would have at least stayed to hear her compliment him or anything to feed his ego) Maybe ask her "Oh, you want a picture with me? The strongest? How cute~" A flirty comment, a joke, something to fuel his own ego, but he doesn't do that. He doesn't act in a way that conveys he openly pursues attention from women. He just takes the picture with her and walks off casually.
Therefore, other than the fact that he's handsome- and I know many people who would assume things about someone based on their attractiveness, which is a terrible stereotype- Gojo doesn't show much interest in flirting at all. He could be the type of guy who works more than plays- and there's plenty of guys who are handsome but aren't super interested in playing around. Being handsome doesn't automatically mean he's the type to sneak around and have affairs here and there. It's completely realistic for a handsome man to be uninterested in any kind of relationships- not all men are sex crazed, and being a tease to his friends doesn't make Gojo a flirt either. Teasing your friends is perfectly normal.
Therefore, Gojo being a 28 year old virgin is totally possible- not everyone's a sex crazed teen who only thinks about what's between their legs, and basing it on what normal Japanese teens do is unfair. Neither Gojo or his lifestyle is exactly normal, and there's definitely barriers when it comes to experiencing normal youth activities for Gojo's generation- especially Gojo's generation. Yuji's generation definitely has more freedom to do fun things because of what Gojo has done to give the youth more freedom- things he hasn't been able to experience himself in his youth, like playing baseball during the exchange event. That was the first time they ever did something different to tradition, and that was only because of Gojo's consideration.
Gojo's youth was filled with blood, exorcising, and choosing between life and death. The deaths Yuji and co. witnessed were what Gojo experienced as well, if not worse. Gojo's task in his youth was to protect the weak, and he found that burdensome. At least, until Geto betrayed them, and Gojo realized the new burden he had to bear in changing the Jujutsu world because of what it had done to his only best friend.
There are definitely more important things in Gojo's mind than just losing his virginity, like saving people and choosing who to save, whether he should kill or not kill.
Gojo is the strongest, but he also bears the biggest burden- and that burden is something he chose to bear, and being the strongest is something he chose to be. Because before Geto left, it was "We are the Strongest." Now, Gojo worked tirelessly so that he could say "I am the Strongest."
And that's not something you can do while sleeping around. I think a lot of people fail to recognize just how hard Gojo works for himself and others. They just think, oh he's the strongest, so it should be easy for him. But it's really, really not that simple, is it? Especially when you have to do it on your own, and even then Gojo realizes that his strength alone isn't enough to save people. He can't save everyone by himself- It's not enough for just him to be the Strongest, so he works diligently to build and inspire his students to stand with him.
He's actually a very deep and emotional man who cares about his students and especially, even now, his best friend. Everything he does is for their sake- he sacrifices the normal life he could have lived, like Nanami had done, for their sake. And he fights with the higher ups, takes the brunt of their ire, and laughs it off, acting as if he fine, like a dad pretending he's superman for his kid's sake. But Gojo is burdened, and he's tired, and he hardly sleeps, and he has the most missions- he's the Strongest, which means everyone needs him, and he bears it.
Sorry for ranting again tho. I think I went into two different topics lol oops- 🤔
OUR SAVIOR 🤔 EDUCATING PEOPLE pay attention ya'll another thing I've noticed in the latest episode is that in his phone contacts he actually writes Utahime's name properly like formally no emojis or teasing shit he actually sees them as his colleagues people he can rely on his field of work and yes about the whole thing when he bursted into riko's class man was absolutely clueless just silent as a teacher tries to give him his number. I'm pretty sure as a child Gojo wasn't allowed to attend public schools due him being in danger or putting others in danger so he doesn't know much about public schools or normal people in general since he spends all his time with people from the jujutsu society.
That is definitely true just because someone is good looking that doesnt mean he's some cheap womanizer. I see a lot of people shipping him and Utahime together which is understandable ship who you like but I don't think Gojo as any ulterior motives like wooing Utahime by teasing her he just is plainly teasing ya know like friends do but in this case Utahime hates his guts and he doesnt know. I mean it takes some amount of hate to try to throw hot tea at someone 😂
While certainly I agree Gojo's teen like wasn't the best it was like he literally had a full time job at that age but who's to stay he didn't go messing around one time? I'm sure during his teen days he wanted to experience things he didnt get to to but now could because he lives on his own now. But maybe he didnt at all who knows? Which also raises another question, I wonder if he has any romantic experiences? And this was all before what happened in the hidden inventory arc after that I can see him more becoming invested in his duty and with what happened with geto as well would of definitely had a huge impact on him to try harder even though hes the strongest so that the next generation wouldn't have to experience the things he went through.
It's really sad if you really think about it what hes been through and what he has to shoulder all while keeping the facade that he's okay, I bet there were times he cursed his powers and his life....but he bears with it anyways because everyone is counting on him....
And don't be sorry at all! I am actually really learning alot about Gojo from you. Please continue to tell us your thoughts and feelings. I don't mind at all ❤ and thank you for taking the time to write 💕
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