#i just mean. as a reader. do i read their story arc and see them go from bad to good and progress in meaningful ways

[lord-squiggletits]

Something I keep seeing when I speak to others about MTMTE Megatron is basically the idea that he's going on a personal journey to become a better person, that the point isn't for him to be "redeemed" but for him to get a chance to do good and die as a person he can live with again. That MTMTE presents a unique take on this because being away from Cybertron gives Megatron a chance to be a person rather than a political figure and this is how it gives him more depth as a character. Or just generally pointing out in a narrative sense that Megatron being in MTMTE limits his story options so of course his story is going to be more focused on a personal journey than on politics of him dealing with the Decepticons/Earth/etc and that just because JRO made a choice to take that path with Megatron doesn't mean that it's inherently bad.

And I'm just, mmm like I understand all of those points and acknowledge that they all contributed to the MTMTE Megatron we got. I even think that without JRO writing Megatron we wouldn't have had his lore be as fleshed out and 3D as it ended up becoming.

(Post starts out as a sort of meta analysis or at least me giving a reasoned explanation for my interpretation of the story, ends up being petty bitching in the last 1-2 paragraphs)

I just..... I just personally don't agree with the "he's becoming a better person by getting a chance to relax and experience happiness and trust after a life of trauma" as being the best choice for his character? Because the problem is that maybe if he were a random Decepticon foot soldier that would be appropriate, but he was literally the leader of the Decepticons that made them Like That and has political/cultural/societal responsibility for why things are the way they are? To be completely frank, I don't care about him going on a personal journey for self-peace, I think that he should become a better person by helping to un-fuck all the things he actually screwed up???

Like idc about the debate of whether he can be "redeemed" or if he should've been killed/imprisoned/etc at the ending. It just comes down to the fact that for me personally, I feel that since Megatron's wrongdoings were at a social level, him "being a better person" would've been better shown by him engaging with those people who he wronged instead of just going on a frigging personal journey for his legacy and self-peace???

Especially since in other series (exRID, possibly Windblade) we literally got plots like "the neutrals hate Autobots but they hate Decepticons even more" and "the Decepticons have been taken over by Galvatron and are now invading earth 2 electric boogaloo" and "yeah the Decepticons are literally living in slums because people hate them so much and won't give them any work." It just leaves me wondering why in the hell people are like, "oh Megatron got to be happy and have a chance to be a normal person." I don't want him to be normal! I want him to repay his debts to the people he actually wronged! Like if you want to cast Megatron as a hero of the people so badly (which so many of his stans do as if he actually cared about the Cons) then how do you reconcile the fact that Megatron just fucked off and left the Decepticons to suffer on Cybertron? Including some of them attacking during his trial and getting killed and Megatron is basically like "sorry, I'm not coming with you and this isn't going to work." And then Megatron complains about "toxic Decepticon loyalty" as if he didn't literally make them that way? Like I get that MTMTE Megatron is still an asshole but if you've read something besides MTMTE and know what the Decepticons are going through, it just ends up being really grating.

I just don't see Megatron as being a particularly good hero or having a particularly fulfilling story if he's completely isolated from all the bad things he did on Cybertron/the way the Decepticons are suffering until LL#25 where it's like "ah damn I'm going to trial now, well this is what I deserve so it's fine." Why could we not have seen something like Megatron trying to deradicalize the Decepticons or change their public image so they could integrate into normal Cybertron again? They were living in SLUMS and getting gunned down by Starscream's badgeless enforcers!

The best we got was the Functionist Universe but like.... I'm sorry, but JRO inventing a whole alternate universe for Megatron to save doesn't do jack shit to save or fix the people he left behind in this one. It was especially grating to read because JRO literally wrote in someone saying "you saved billions of lives from the Functionists" as if he was trying really hard to show how good Megatron is because he saved people (and also if not for Megatron existing Cybertron would be even worse and half of your faves would be enslaved or dead, also the Functionist Council was going to genocide organics too so technically they're WORSE than Megatron since they hate organics AND want to enslave their own race).

I read Barber's, JRO's, and MScott's series concurrently using the omnibus + a release order list for phase 3, and after all that I'm kind of puzzled why the fandom seems to ardently love MTMTE Megatron and think he's so well written but then also shit on Optimus for things that he did during the same points in the story? Because, and I know this is a blazing hot take, I honestly think that Optimus makes a better hero of his story than Megatron does for his, and Optimus' personal journey combines his personal and political identities into a narrative that's a lot more gruelling and questioning of his goodness than we got for Megatron in MTMTE. Which is fucking saying something considering Megatron committed crimes against sapient species and Optimus is the guy who tried to stop him from doing that and has always been pro-equal rights for all beings. But people pretty much just cherrypick things like Optimus annexing Earth or beating up Prowl and go "he's bad" and I'm like no??? IDW OP isn't a bad person or a bad character??? It's just that unlike MTMTE Megatron he's placed in a narrative that actually suits the nature of his actions and has themes that match. To the point that IMO sometimes Barber's narrative shits on Optimus excessively or paints him mainly in the most unflattering ways.

But like. It's just funny to me because Optimus spent his entire part of the story doing things like trying to stop Earth from being invaded/colonized yet again. Grappling with his identity as Prime and dealing with the fact that people literally worship him vs. the fact that his upbringing made him see the Primacy as nothing more than a facade of authority/leadership. Having people get mad at him for prioritizing politics over friendship/relationships with other people. Even getting shit on for being a cop a decent amount so people can STFU about IDW OP being "copaganda" or "not held responsible for his actions". The problems that Optimus dealt with were personal because they had to do with his self-doubt, culpability for the war as a leader of one of the armies, distance from his soldiers, etc. But all of these are also POLITICAL struggles. Because Optimus gave up on the chance to just be a normal person having personal struggles when he chose to become a LEADER, which also means that he's held to extremely high standards that he regularly fails at in the eyes of others.

That's why, to me, MTMTE Megatron falls flat in comparison and really as a "hero" or heel-face character in general? Because he also made a decision to be a leader, and IMO once you do things like become the commander of an army and start your own galactic empire, you lose the right to prioritize your personal problems and instead are obligated by the power you've chosen to wield to focus on your POLITICAL problems. If Megatron's power, influence, and crimes are of a social-political nature, then his heel-face turn arc and ways of showing that he's a better person/helping to heal what little damage he possibly can should have been shown with actions that help on a social-political LEVEL. That's why I'm not particularly impressed with his character arc and feel as if it was overhyped by other people in this fandom: sure, the extra character depth and emotion is nice, but I'm not really going to see him as extraordinary or even particularly good when the extent of him "becoming a better person" happens entirely on a random road trip to fuck-off nowhere. Especially not when the ending of LL tried to sell me a "they lived happily ever after" ending while basically leaving the freaking MUTINY as just Rodimus going "oh it's okay you're forgiven, we're all together again" and I guess everyone was fine with Megatron and wanted to spend an eternity on a ship with him just because Getaway died.

This is why I like (the concept/themes of) exRID/OP and the way Optimus' character arc was handled a lot more. Because for Optimus, the personal and the political were as one. He was held accountable for his actions towards others and the disruptive effects they had on a social level, sometimes to a ridiculous extent (the fucking "oh Megatron is an Autobot so now that makes the Autobots colonizers" plot and that stupid colonist screaming about how Optimus is "literally fascist" my beloathed). Even his very personal issues like his relationship with Zeta were still cast in a wider lens of, yeah this is a personal struggle that Orion faced, but he was still part of a Society TM and his actions were sometimes ill-informed or harmful to others. Even if I had a lot of problems with the way Optimus' story was written by Barber (plot holes, little meaningful character interaction, forced conflicts), at least the BASELINE of it was way better than Megatron's in MTMTE. Especially since Optimus' struggle was explictly about things like struggling with responsibility and how he feels he HAS to intervene in political affairs because has to save people/make up for his past mistakes. That's something that a good leader/good person actually does, so I found Optimus to be a better hero (even if his actions weren't all "good") because he was trying to be a good person by actually getting involved with Cybertron/Earth and subjecting himself to something he hates (leadership, war) and dealing with a shitload of criticism instead of just going on a fuckin "personal journey" lksdlkfsd.

Which just makes me extra salty that people hold up MTMTE Megatron as the pinnacle of Megatrons and literally the best Transformers writing evar! while turning up their nose and ignoring or outright despising IDW Optimus. Like okay. I guess since Megatron got handled with silk gloves on while Optimus got put through the wringer of being shit on by every other person in the story, it's easier for you to pretend that Megatron is a poor uwu boy who just needs friendship and love while Optimus is literally the worst bastard to ever exist. Or maybe it's just that since Optimus' story involves him sometimes fucking up, being criticized, or making things worse, that makes him morally bad. As opposed to Megatron who disrupted a lot of other characters' stories in MTMTE, had to have an entire alternate universe invented so that he could "save lives," and got to sail off on a quantum Lost Light happily ever after, so since he's happy and the story says he saved people that means he's a good hero.

[tendorksclasspecting]

Rose and Dave both gain their godhood rejecting their roles on a suicide mission to blow up the sun and that's fabulous, I love it. But Rose gets the short end of the stick attention-wise both before on her planet and after on the meteor.

When Rose goes grimdark, I wish she did more with her planet than trash it & leave. When Dave rejects his role he gets an important broken sword and figures out stable time loops, and then they scratch their session on his planet. Rose goes Grimdark from unlocking her seer powers and immediately rejecting them, but then her planet doesn't really get addressed at all after she goes Grimdark. She could have ridden that thing like a cue ball into the green sun. She could have killed her planet and resurrected an undead army of later-relevant consorts. She could have no-clipped to Cetus, had an argument, and banished her to the Furthest Ring leaving LOLAR inky and lightless and invisible to Lord English for use fighting him later. Rose was supposed to be a beautiful tool but she wanted to be a weapon, and she never narratively gets to be without utterly destroying herself.

On the meteor, I wish we got more of her being catty as her sense of purpose falls apart post suicide mission - I wish we'd seen her struggle instead of just being told oops Rose is an alcoholic now. I wish we'd gotten more of her falling in love with Kanaya, this person who uses her needles and teeth to clothe and protect. Of them understanding themselves better because of each other. Of them transitioning (maybe through addiction) from the violent necessities of the game to plans for their future, for what the Mother Grub would need and how to combine their cultures, deciding who they want to be. But Rose kind of just gets sidelined into the background of Dave and Karkat and Terezi, and that's a fucking shame.

Rose is a character with so much depth and we got cheated out of seeing her make the final decisions of what her arc is and who she wants to be, which imo is the whole point of her character arc.

[dave rejects his assigned role] woww this says so much and is so interesting and awesome i am suddenly a master of analysis [rose rejects her assigned role] omg i cant belive hussie made this unintentional oversight thats really stupid rose is sooo boring

[ariaste]

Hello, published author here who just noticed a thing in the s3 teaser that may help us to determine the timeline:

This is not an ARC. ARCs, aka "Advance Review Copies" or "Advance Reader Copies" are sent out in advance of the publication of a book in order for magazines/newspapers/whoever (and these days, online book influencers) to review it, and for booksellers to have a chance to read it so they can order copies for their store and hand-sell it better on publication day. ARCs usually go out around 3-4 months before publication.

ARCs are also sometimes called "advance uncorrected proofs" because they usually haven't been through copyedits yet (aka typo-finding and punctuation-checking). ARCs are always clearly marked on the front cover as what they are, to make it harder for people to sell them online and so that bookstores don't accidentally put them out as merchandise.

We know that the IWTV team knows this becaaaaause, from the end of s2e8:

*THAT'S* an ARC. You can see how it says so all over, both "advance reader's copy" and "advance uncorrected proof". It's also a paperback (as ARCs usually are) rather than the hardback that Lestat is holding -- all very typical and correct.

And here is a finished copy. And we know exactly how far after publication it is, because:

Daniel also gives a shout out to a "book fair" and Atlanta, which I take to mean the Decatur Book Festival, which takes place in October. So that means the book would have been published in June -- nice timing! Get all that good Pride Month promo for this gay-ass vampire memoir. So far we are nailing the Expected Publishing Industry Timeline And Behaviors.

So the only thing I can tell you definitively about what this means is that Louis got that ARC probably in February, aka around eight fucking months ago at the end of s2, and still hasn't even skimmed it, and that is HILARIOUS of him. not a shred of guilt on him about it either. (if you get a print ARC (as opposed to an e-ARC) and you don't even read it, it is polite to be a little embarrassed about that. not my personal best friend Louis DPDL tho.)

As for whether Daniel is a vampire during the s3 trailer -- the thing we are all clamoring to know -- I have two possible ways the timeline could be working, given the publishing industry stuff:

OPTION 1: Louis leaves Dubai -> Goes to New Orleans for Depression Hovel reunion, refuses to get back together with Lestat -> Lestat "I will woo him back with a Song, just like last time. ok that didn't work I'LL GO BIGGER. that didn't work. BIGGER" Lioncourt starts his rockstar career as a Gotta Get My Man Back tantrum -> Daniel finishes the manuscript, delivers it to his publisher, and sends an ARC to Louis (February) -> Book is published, bestseller (June) -> Daniel (who was turned at some unknown point) goes on TV about it (October) -> famous currently-bestselling journalist gets in touch with up-and-coming rockstar to get his side of the story -> Lestat has a mental breakdown on camera about how Louis is not even paying attention to all the albums he is recording, hurtful, tragic, heartbreaking

or

OPTION 2: Daniel DEFINITELY got out of Dubai alive -> [all of the above up to "Daniel sends an ARC to Louis"] -> book is getting great reviews -> already-famous Pulitzer Prize-winning journalist gets in contact with up-and-coming rockstar to do the sequel even before the book is out (slightly odd publishing choice but when you have two Pulitzers, the rules are different, so it's not implausible) -> Daniel gets his finished copies of the book (which brings us to probably May at the earliest; you don't usually get your finished copies more than a month in advance) and has one on set for interviewing Lestat -> Lestat has his sexy little rockstar breakdown on camera -> Daniel is human for interviewing Lestat but gets turned by Armand somewhere in the five-month span between finished copies arriving in May and his TV interview in October.

Option 1 gives the show writers a little more timeline wiggle room, which can be useful, but Option 2 is more Dramatic and builds extra tension if Daniel is trying to do this interview while not having a good time with his Parkinson's. Either way Louis is just out here not answering anybody's phone calls or reading the lovely ARC he was so thoughtfully sent bc he's busy redecorating his house.

THAT SAID, please take all of this with a grain of salt, i have been losing my mind over the s3 trailer and i may have missed something

this has been your war correspondent a report from the publishing industry. thank you and goodnight

[bakuhatsufallinlove]

I heard that the japanese fans saying that bkdk was implied is it really true? Can you please explain?!! (I was pretty happy with the ending already, but if it's true I would be ecstatic 🧡💚💖)

I'm not really sure how to answer this. First, I'll direct you to this ask I answered previously about bkdk in the Japanese fandom.

And if you're talking about the same tweets from jpn fans I saw getting shared around, the majority of the comments clearly used emojis, euphemisms, and algorithm-disrupting nicknames for Katsuki and Izuku, which kind of immediately suggests the user is already a bkdk fan. So, I mean... do you go into shipping fan spaces, see people shipping, and decide that means everybody thinks those characters are dating? Probably not, right?

But now that we've got an ending, lemme say outright that bkdk is implied by the base structure of the story. By the characters' thematic arcs. By their words, values, goals, and actions. Regardless of what language they speak, no reader can walk away from MHA without understanding that Izuku and Katsuki are profoundly important to each other.

I've said it before and I'll say it again: Izuku loves Katsuki. And by the end of his character arc, there is no way to read Katsuki's actions towards Izuku and not see love, either. The exact nature of that love is up to individual interpretation; this is common for stories outside the romance genre that have complex character relationships, and I encourage you to feel secure in your own reading without external validation.

But if you want to talk about validity, the fact that we don't see either of them say the words "I love you" out loud does not diminish a romantic interpretation.

Just for fun, let's talk a bit about some important history of "implied" romance in shonen manga.

(Spoilers for Urusei Yatsura and Ranma 1/2.)

Takahashi Rumiko, one of the most successful and influential manga creators of all time, famously ended two of her heterosexual romantic comedy plotlines while denying readers a spoken, reciprocated "I love you."

In Urusei Yatsura, Lum spends the entire series actively pursuing Ataru and in the finale, she threatens to erase everyone's memories of her and her fellow aliens if he does not tell her he loves her. The situation makes it impossible for him to win and stop the memory erasing without saying it.

And he still refuses to say it.

He keeps trying to win and avoid losing his memory without saying it; she recognizes his devotion to her when she sees that all this time, he has been carrying something that reminds him of her.

Oh, look at that. I wonder who else spent a long time holding fast to something that represents the time they spent with their loved one?

Lum finally relents and allows Ataru to win, so everyone keeps their memories.

Each of them affirms the intention to be together forever, without using the words "I love you."

WOW I WONDER WHO ELSE WANTED TO BE LOCKED IN A COMBATIVE ENTANGLEMENT OF PURSUIT WITH THE PERSON THEY LOVE FOR THE REST OF THEIR LIVES.

In Ranma 1/2, Ranma and Akane have been engaged to be married for the whole series, and at a pivotal moment, Ranma thinks the words "I love you," though he does not say them aloud.

Afterwards, Akane finally agrees to let the wedding take place with this as her reasoning:

And Ranma completely objects to having admitted this.

Akane is fucking right, fyi--ignoring everything else that happens in the series, Ranma rescuing her and crying over her injured body while yelling her name might as well be a confession.

Due to ensemble cast chaos, the wedding is postponed again at the end of the manga.

It is worth noting that these series are both in the romantic comedy genre, so their plot devices surrounding love are much more explicit, even if the final execution toys with our expectations. It makes the characters' real feelings obvious while keeping them true to their nature, because that's the core appeal of the relationship to begin with.

As I said, in manga that are not romances, these bonds are often more subtle.

When I said 424 was as good as a confession to me, this is part of why.

Katsuki says he thought they would be together for the rest of their lives. Izuku promises what he can, which is the time he still has the embers of OFA. He may think Katsuki is simply mourning a future where Izuku has OFA, which he can't get back.

In direct response to that exchange, for our finale, we find out Katsuki spent eight years arranging for Izuku to be a pro hero without OFA.

Katsuki beckons Izuku to his side, using the name that used to be an insult, but has since become Izuku's hero name. He reaches out his hand to Izuku, which the reader knows he has wanted to do for so long.

The last image we see might as well be them skipping off into the sunset together, side by side.

Am I supposed to see that as something other than love, just because all their friends are there, too? That seems kinda silly to me.

MHA emphasizes the collective, but that doesn't diminish the individual bonds within it. It goes out of its way to tell us this moment is possible because of Katsuki, because he wants Izuku beside him. We may not get our handhold here, but it is plain to see that Izuku accepts his invitation.

I'm not saying Horikoshi was directly inspired by Takahashi, but her works are an important piece of the narrative language of love within the shonen genre.

Art always reflexively harkens back to what came before it. Whether the creator intends it or not, the audience is reminded of what they've seen before in the cultural landscape of media. Whether or not Horikoshi intended for us to see bkdk as romantic is simply irrelevant to how any given reader is going to see it.

So, if you want permission to think Katsuki and Izuku are in love, you've got mine. tumblr user bakuhatsufallinlove sanctions this epic gay love story. Plus Ultra. You're welcome. <3

[muffinlance]

Wait, what’s going on with Embers???? That fic has been on my read later list since 2021, what’s happened with it???

Brief overview, then I'm likely never touching this topic again, because this is not a Drama Blog:

Context: Embers is a super old AtLA fic that was written during the early fandom days, read widely at the time, and was the origin of the widely-used fanon name of "Wani" for Zuko's ship (kind of by default that it was one of the first popular fics to give his ship a name, I think?), even though most fic writers don't seem to realize it's from there anymore.

"What's Going On": I used to include a link in all my stories to it, because I believe in crediting other writers for borrowed elements, and I was using "Wani" in all my fics. But BOY did I not want to be sending readers that way anymore, so I've adopted a new name for Zuko's ship, and removed all Embers links.

None of the criticisms about Embers itself are new; I'm assuming they date back to when the fic was being written, because this isn't an "it aged badly" thing, this is an "actually yeah this gets worse the longer you think about it and I shouldn't have ignored my bad feelings just because some of the worldbuilding was interesting" thing.

An Incomplete List of Why I Made the Change:

I don't actually like the story that much anymore, and don't want to rec it

I tried to re-read it recently to see if some things were as bad as I remembered and it turns out they were So Much Worse Oh Yikes. More specifically, the treatment of Katara and Aang and their respective cultures has... rather a lot going on. One example: The Fire Nation and Air Nomads are both given multiple backstory elements in an attempt to make the average Fire Nation soldier's participation in the genocide/war in large part the fault of the Avatar and the Air Nomads themselves, and also fully justified from the Fire Nation perspective. And I do mean fully. One of its core tenants is "People from the Fire Nation (and only people from the Fire Nation) who don't follow orders Literally Die, therefore murdering pacifists and babies and continuing the war (and their regularly scheduled war crimes) is the only thing it is physically possible for them to do". I cannot emphasize enough how literal that is.

Also the name "Wani" means "Alligator" and is... objectively a pretty lame name for Zuko's ship? Where's the personality, where's the deeper meaning, where's the resonance with Zuko's themes? @tuktukpodfics initially thought I was calling the ship "Wanyi", and that's what I've switched to, because it is Objectively So Much Better. In their words: “Wànyī (萬一): Literally ‘one in ten thousand,’ ‘perchance.’ Used grammatically in Chinese to mean ‘what if’ or ‘just in case.’ I think a ship called ‘The Perchance’ is perfect for a boy clinging to false hope.”

TL:DR; I don't rec Embers anymore, because I don't actually like the story anymore, and there are things about it that get worse the more I think on them. I've removed links to it and renamed Zuko's ship to "Wanyi" ("The Perchance") because our boy deserves a ship name that reflects his character arc.

[prettyboykatsuki]

“How are you so quiet when you’re that big?”

“Trade secret.”

lines that kill you instantly and immediately and also swiftly and

Sleeping in the Garden: Part I

in which bakugo katsuki is your next door neighbor, and he’s just gotten custody of two girls he’s far too young and far too inexperienced to be a father for—but he’s bakugo katsuki, so he’s damn well going to do it anyway

bakugo katsuki x fem!reader

wc: 21.5k genre:pro hero au, neighbor au, single dad au, slow burn, kidfic type:longfic (6 parts) reader:fem (she/her pronouns, fem terms, neutral clothing) part warnings: children (7&16 years old), parent illness/death, discussions of toxic relationships (pre-fic), discussions of age gap (pre-fic; 20 & 34) note: this is the first part of my submission to the @mybigbangacademia big bang! this was an incredible opportunity, absolutely full to the brim with such talented writers and authors, and i for one can’t wait to check them all out! i’d also like to give a quick thanks to @phen0l​ and @sipsteainanxiety​ for their incredible beta work ♥️ this fic is a real work from the heart, something i’ve been working on for over a year now, so i hope you all enjoy!

masterlist || part ii ⟹

You sit at your kitchen counter to do your work. It’s not exactly ideal; you can’t see them, and you’re certain your back will ache in the morning as punishment for using the tall bar chair for an hour and a half, but you make it work. The minutes pass, the girls continue to work on their assignments and help each other out when needed. It isn’t until a text chime blares out that you turn around and realize how long it’s been.

Ayame is looking down at her phone, reading the text with her arms still preoccupied with academics.

“Did your father get back to you?” you ask.

“He’s not my father,” Ayame snaps immediately, head snapping over to fix you with a fierce glare. “Despite what he and everyone else thinks, he is not my dad, so don’t call him that.”

You raise your hands in surrender, palms out. “Peace. Understood. I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have assumed.”

She seems to startle at that—her glare doesn’t pause but her brow furrows further in confusion and when she speaks it’s muttered more than angry. “Yeah. You shouldn’t’ve.”

“But I need to know he knows where you are.”

“He does,” she grumbles. “He’s stuck in traffic, he’ll be here soon.”

Your next door neighbor is the number two pro hero.

It’s a nice neighborhood—admittedly most of the inhabitants are getting on in years, and at times can be unbearably wealthy, but you’re not about to complain when you inherited your half of the duplex already paid off by your grandparents. It’s an unusual western-style house, connected on one side to a reflected twin, with three floors, three bedrooms (though you’ve converted one into an office), two (and a half) baths, and a shared rooftop terrace with the remains of planter boxes and a run-down little greenhouse that your grandfather once used to grow food; a nice place, something you’d never have been able to afford if you hadn’t come into it by luck.

The leftmost wall is shared with none other than the Great Explosion Murder God Dynamight, though contrary to what the name might suggest he’s actually a pretty okay neighbor. That is to say: an almost entirely absent one.

You don’t see the man very much. Hero work, you presume, keeps him more than busy; when he’s home there’s always a shiny, clearly expensive sports car in the driveway (you have no clue what kind but it looks like something a car nut would drool over) and you definitely see it gone more than not. The older ladies like to coo at him when he shows up—sometimes with another tall, built hero in tow, often with groceries in arm. You’ve only talked to him a few times but he remembers your name, and he gives a brusque little nod of acknowledgement whenever you wave at him in greeting. He’s not exactly known in the news as the friendliest type but you’re never felt entirely unwelcome when you’ve gone over to let him know that you’ll be on vacation for a week, or that you’re expecting a handyman to stop by to fix your sink. And that’s just about all the friendliness one inherently needs from a neighbor, so you’re content with the whole relationship.

That kind of goes out the window when the girls show up, because you’re too meddling for your own good and nobody, not even (or perhaps especially) an incredibly busy top hero, is prepared to suddenly take on two children without warning.

Keep reading

[ot3]

What Is ORV?

The number one question I get asked on this blog, now answered better than ever. Today I am going to formally introduce you to Omniscient Reader's Viewpoint

To start off this recommendation: ORV might very well be my favorite thing I've read. Ever. If I could only reread one thing for the rest of my life it'd be this webnovel.

My elevator pitch is this: something with the cosmic-scale goofy video game nonsense and intricate setting comparable to Homestuck in its prime, paired with the deft emotional poignancy and emotionally-driven fights of Mob Psycho 100, topped off with the sort of compassionate and heartwrenching metanarrative of Undertale.

ORV is a love letter to it's own readers. ORV revels in the joy of losing yourself in fiction, even when it's the kind of fiction that tends to be considered lowbrow or worthless. It's something that dances the delicate line between recognizing the difficult nature of using media as escapism without condemning it. I've rarely seen anything else that accomplishes everything it sets out to do in its narrative with such remarkable precision. Frankly if you're reading a tumblr media recommendation post in 2023, I can almost guarantee ORV has the kind of meat you're looking for in a narrative, whatever that may be.

The story follow the antics of protagonist Kim Dokja, a 28 year old office worker on an expiring contract, whose only real joy in life is reading his favorite massively long and massively boring webnovel. One day, the novel’s events - worldwide deathmatches aired for the entertainment of mysterious higher beings called ‘constellations’ - begin playing out in reality in a sort of reverse-isekai. Kim Dokja, the only longterm reader of this webnovel, finds himself uniquely poised to succeed based on the advantages given to him by his knowledge of future events, but the webnovel’s actual protagonist, Yoo Jonghyuk, is a violent monster who will stop at absolutely nothing to complete his goals, no matter the cost to anyone else. Kim Dokja finds himself in a delicate dance of guiding the events of the story to play out more favorably than the version he read while trying to avoid being massacred in the fallout, all while trying to see it through to the story’s end. 

Below the cut I'll go into a more in-depth (but non-spoilery) explanation of what exactly makes ORV so unique and worthwhile, and what you're in for if you choose to read it.

Clocking in at 550 chapters, and over 1.3 million words in English, ORV may seem incredibly daunting to dip your toes into, but I assure you it's worth every moment. I would read 1.3 million more words if they had them for me. Here are some things about ORV I consider to be selling points, not necessarily in any particular order:

The tone. Its funny, for starters. It is extremely funny, which is very high up on my media priority list. In ORV, there will be incredibly grim things that make you laugh, and incredibly cringe and silly anime bullshit that will hurt you as heavily as any other media you’ve seen. I always love this kind of tonal whiplash when it's well executed, and ORV probably executes it better than anything else I've seen to date.

It’s got fun and fascinating worldbuilding mechanics. the core concept being ‘reality now operates on the rules of a shitty novel’ means that the worldbuilding doesn’t have to function logically, it functions thematically. It’s explicitly stated in ORV canon that some of the internal rules governing this new reality are objectively really stupid and illogical, but they just have to roll with it because that’s what was in the book, and i think it’s a really enjoyable way to do it. This may at first sound like a copout to excuse bad worldbuilding, but I promise it isn’t. The worldbuilding is actually incredibly deeply thought out, but it doesn’t exist for the sake of rational function, it exists for the sake of furthering orv’s thematic arcs. The rules by which this universe operate do a magnificent job of strengthening the core concepts the authors are exploring.

It plays with the trappings of isekai/litrpg in a really thoughtful way. These are genres I'm not super familiar with, so I can't comment on this point too heavily, but with my limited knowledge ORV feels a lot less of a deconstruction of it's genre and more of a celebration/interrogation of it. Despite that, it's still accessible to readers such as myself who are not super familiar with these genre conventions.

It deals with morality in a really wonderful and nuanced way. there are almost no characters in ORV’s extremely large cast who are just explicitly morally condemnable, and almost every conflict allows you to understand exactly why the antagonists believe they’re in the right by opposing the actions of our protagonists. The central conflicts are never pure right and pure wrong; they’re always about contrasting goals, conflicting worldviews, and different priorities between ends and means. this makes the conflicts all feel so much more dynamic and engaging than those where the only stakes are physical harm.

The characters interpersonal relationships are some of the most interesting I've ever seen. ORV is very slow burn and it takes a long time for a lot of these to come out of the woodwork, by design, but by god once they do they fucking hit. Similar to the plot conflicts, the interpersonal conflicts also almost never occur where there’s one side clearly in the wrong. The characters are almost all genuinely attempting to do their best by each other, and the tension comes from the ways in which human communication is fundamentally imperfect and part of our feelings and intentions get lost in translation. it’s very heartwrenching and heartwarming to see unfold, in equal measure.

Following from that, it’s a narrative that really meaningfully prioritizes non-romantic relationships over romantic ones as the central focus. Orv is about love, but not about romance. Obviously there’s shipbait and the ot3 is real and good and my friend but if you’re looking for deep complex platonic, (found or otherwise) familial, and antagonistic relationships that never get ruined with forced romantic arcs, we got em baby!

The pacing is unlike anything i’ve ever seen before. from a purely technical standpoint, it is genuinely a fascinating case study in how to execute a narrative that is almost constantly escalating without exception. there is very little downtime or breathing room in orv, which is insane for something that clocks in at over a million words, and somehow, it still works. i’ve never felt more like a frog in a pot of slowly boiling water than i did when i was reading orv and i can’t believe they pulled it off. it’s so interesting to read something like that.

It is a tragedy without resorting to cynicism and a very adult narrative that’s really steeped in childlike wonder. I’m a big fan of cartoons made for children. Cartoons made for children are some of my favorite things to watch, but of course children’s media will always be simplified and not very relatable to an adult audience. ORV is very much a serious and heavy adult narrative, and a deeply tragic one at that, but it never delves into torture porn. It’s a very compassionate piece of media overall, that holds a lot of reverence and sympathy for the ‘naive’ optimism of children that gets stripped down over time. if you, like me, feel more like a grown up child than an adult some days, I think it’ll hit for you.

It is extremely cathartic and meaningful. I am not exaggerating at all when I say that reading it gave me the closest thing I have ever felt to any sort of spiritual breakthrough. It helped unfuck my head a ton during some very grim times and i think the perspective it offers on the value of human life and our relationship to storytelling is a really really good one.

And if my word isn't enough, here's some reviews from satisfied customers. With that, I'll leave the rest to you, and hope you one day reach the end of the story.

[604to647]

Safest with You (✨Series Finale✨ Ch. 22 - The Long Road to Forgiveness)

16K / Modern AU Retired Mob Enforcer!Din Djarin x fem!reader

No Summary or Warnings to avoid spoilers! (18+ Content, MDNI please - there are no warnings that would apply that haven't been noted on a previous chapter in the series).

A/N: This is it! Our series finale!! 😭😭🥰 (And it's a monster - sorree🫠) I love these two so much and I don't think I will ever truly say goodbye to them - there is still an Epilogue coming and possible one-shots in the future, but this is the end of our main story/relationship arc for them; I hope it's enjoyable and satisfying 🥹. Thank you to everyone who has read along with the series - it was my very first foray into fanfic and I've learned (and I hope, improved!) so much as a writer over this past year - I can never thank Din, Pretty Bird and all of you enough for this experience. Merci, merci, merci et je t'aime 😘😘😘

Dividers by @saradika-graphics as always 😘 / Series Masterlist

You don’t know how long you stand there, unmoving. 

He’s here. 

You truly believed you would never see Din again, but here he is sitting before you, looking more handsome than you remember.  The strong lines of his face and soft waves of his hair are both longer than when you saw them last but he’s still the same man who exudes a gravitational pull that you can’t help but feel tug at you.  And yet, you remain rooted in place - unable to go to him, but unable to leave.

Finally, Din stands and rises to his full impressive height, looking at you pleadingly with soft, unsure eyes; he starts to slowly move closer, one gentle footstep a time - as if afraid to spook you.

You count his steps.  One… Two… Three… Twelve… Fifteen… until he stands right before you, close enough for you to reach out and touch. 

There’s an unspoken understanding between the two of you that even though Din sought you out, that you’re the one who has to speak first; your words the only ones with the power of invitation… or dismissal.

The only problem is you don’t know what you want to say.  You had already made peace with the idea that you and Din would never speak again and chosen not to lingered on what remains unsaid, never mind how you would ever go about approaching those topics.  While you frantically try to navigate the questions that suddenly flood your mind, Din gingerly holds out the peony bouquet to you in offer.

And like he had done so a million times during your relationship, Din quiets your overthinking mind with a simple, but sweet gesture so you can think clearly.

You reach out to take the flowers from him and briefly admire them – they’re beautiful.  Your favourite.

“Thank you,” you say quietly.

“You’re welcome,” Din’s voice is equally soft, cautious.

Raising your eyes from the pretty pastel blooms you find Din looking at you with such familiar tenderness that you can’t stop your heartstrings from strumming.  It was one thing to have worked through your feelings, finding a peace in being over Din while on your own; it’s another thing entirely when he’s right in front of you.

“Din, what are you doing here?”

Din’s countenance is one of resignation and apology, “I- um.. I just… I just wanted to let you know you’re safe.”

You don’t know how to respond to this declaration.  Din takes your silence as a request to further clarify, “To be clear, you were always safe… always protected.  I just mean that the threat made against you has been eliminated… no one is after you.  And no one will ever come after you.”

It’s still not much of an explanation, but you ask, “And the others, they’re safe too?”

Of course you would worry after the others, smiles Din, “Yes, everyone is safe.  You’re perfectly safe.  You’ve always been safe and you always will be.”

And while you immediately understand that Din’s intention in coming today is to reassure you, give you closure, you find his words insufficient.

Eyes piercing, but voice soft, you sigh, “I didn’t feel very safe.”

“Oh fuck, pretty bird.  Shit.  I thought you knew that even if we weren’t together, the Family would protect you.  I’m so sorry, I didn’t mean f-”

Your hand comes up slightly to interrupt, “You misunderstand, Din.  I didn’t mean I felt like I was in any danger or that I was scared.  Because I didn’t.  I meant I didn’t feel safe.  How could I?  When the person who made me feel the safest, the one who I trusted the most to care for my well being had abandoned me?” 

You inhale and exhale a deep, surrendering breath, “There’s a difference between knowing I’m safe and feeling I’m safe, Din.”  Unsure of where these words are spilling from, you couldn’t stop them even if you wanted to, “You need to know that you have more to offer someone that just protection.  To me, you were comfort, steadiness, security – my port in any storm no matter how big or small.  With that taken from me, how could I ever feel safe?”

The look of devastated comprehension on Din’s face nearly makes you regret your words.  You hadn’t meant, nor do you harbour any desire to make Din feel badly - he had come to you today with the sweetest of intentions. And so, you try to give him a kindly smile through your sad eyes, “Din, it’s okay.  Really.  I’m not telling you this because I want you to feel bad or because I need you to apologize for it.  I know you did what you thought was the best for me, what kept me the safest… but, for the sake of the next person you’re with – I hope you can consider that making someone feel safe is as much about being there for them, being reliable, as it is protecting them from danger.”

The silence that follows is heavy with regret and contemplation.  And even though it wasn’t the point of your speech, Din, for the moment can only speak to the one thing he’s sure of, “There’s never going to be anyone after you, pretty bird.”

“Din…”

“It’s the truth, but I know that that’s neither here nor there.  I didn’t come here today to try and beg you for another chance or to see if you wanted to still be with me.  I know it’s impossible - I ruined any possibility of us.  But, please know - there isn’t any universe where I get over you.  Where there’s a ‘next person’ - you were it for me.  And having heard what you said today, I now know that as much as I thought I did what was needed to keep you safe – I do have to be very sorry and apologize because it turns out that I still failed.  I’m so sorry, pretty bird.”

Din sinks to his knees and wraps his big strong arms, the very ones whose warmth and security you knew so well, around the back of your legs and presses his face into the softness of your belly.  As you card your fingers through the silky curls of Din’s hair, the familiarity of the gesture softens your heart even further.

You know Din is sorry.  You can feel his remorse and apology with every fibre of your being - and so, heart complacent in the face of Din’s complete surrender and capitulation, you forgive him. 

There’s nothing more to it.  Din’s sorry and he carries an albatross of regret for having hurt you - you have no desire to punish him more. 

It had been naïve of you to think you had nothing left to say to Din - there are words that had, unbeknownst to you, been hiding in your heart, trapped with nowhere to go for the last four months, now beating loud against their makeshift prison to be heard.  For your own hard-won peace, you can’t let Din go without having him hear them. 

“Din, I meant what I said: you are so much more than the protection you provide.  You were the keeper of my heart.  Being with you was a dream – I had never felt more confident, content, and hopeful for the future.  Everyday, I was the most cherished, adored woman on earth, and I believed you would safeguard my heart as if it was your most precious treasure.  Every time you decided for me that my safety was compromised by being with you – every time you left – it felt like you were ripping that comfort and security away.  Please, Din - I’m not saying I don’t appreciate your concern for my physical safety, but it should never have come at the expense of the safety of my heart.”  Din rises as you punctate your point, “The hardest thing was losing the security I thought I had that our love was worth something to you too.”

You start to walk and Din follows, the emotion and sincerity in your voice holding him a willing hostage.

“And it’s not just how you approached the threat made against me, Din.  I know you always kept secrets from me about parts of your life that, I don’t know… you thought might make me see you differently?  And maybe that was partially my fault for being okay with it in the beginning out of some desire not to encroach on things that might not have been my business.  I don’t even know anymore.  But even if you didn’t know how I would react or thought I couldn’t handle the type of things you said I was too ‘good’ for, I think it hurt us in the long run that you didn’t give me the benefit of the doubt to try.  Did you genuinely think I would choose to leave?  I mean, Din - are you ashamed of who you are or any of the things you’ve done?”

In every battle Din’s ever fought with himself when it came to being with you, he’s asked himself this question, “I… I can live with myself, pretty bird.”

“Then maybe I could have, too?  For the entire time we were together, you only ever made me feel supported and uplifted, comfortable no matter the situation, Din.  I was certain there was nothing that I could tell or share with you that could ever make you love me any less.”

Against your wishes, your eyes well up as you think back to Din’s abandonment, “That’s how much I trusted you, how much my heart believed in your goodness.  I… can’t help but be hurt that you didn’t trust me the same way.”

You allow Din to walk you down to the subway platform, and when he curls himself around you to shield you from the wind tunnel the incoming train brings, you heart pulls unexpectedly with a longing that you had thought was long extinguished.  It’s this: this care, this thoughtfulness that has always been, to you, the measure of the man Din is – you leave him with this final thought before the subway car doors close behind you, “You didn’t need to protect me to make me feel safe, Din.  You were enough.”

Din goes home and thinks about what you said.

He doesn’t think anyone has ever loved him the way you did – he had never had any one say that they saw him beyond being a protector.  It touches something deep inside him to know that he gave you comfort and you had loved him for his soft and giving nature, not the hardness of his utility.  He chose to provide for you in the manner he thought he was best suited, but what you had sought was something he never considered anyone would want from him: a true, equal partnership.  That you had felt he didn’t believe in your love, in you - and that he hadn’t held both in the high esteem that he does?  Well, that was inexcusable.  Din adds it to the long list of ways he had hurt you that he could never forgive himself for.

Din doesn’t harbour any illusions that he has another chance with you, but this he can still make happen – he can show you that he does trust you. That he had held dear your belief in him and still does.  He can show you that the love you had bestowed upon him was the greatest gift he had ever received.

He can find the courage to be truthful about all the things that he had thought he had to keep a secret from you.  You were right - he hadn’t been wholly honest with you.  Saying it was for your protection, but the truth was Din had been afraid if you knew the realities of his world, the darker side of who he was, perhaps you would look at him differently.  Maybe you wouldn’t have been able to look at him at all.

But you were the most reasonable, smartest, sweetest, generous person he knew – and he hadn’t treated you as such.

You were right.  He hadn’t shown very much faith in you or your love – but he could fix that.  What did he have to lose by showing you the truth of who he was?  He had already lost you - the least he could do is try and take away some of the hurt he had caused.

To say you’re surprised to see Din again the next day is an understatement.  Having once again resigned yourself to never seeing him again after leaving him on the subway platform yesterday, you can’t deny the warmth that blooms tentatively in your chest when you find him sitting in the courtyard waiting for you after work once more

This time, it’s you who approaches him – an unspoken question on your bemused face.

Din rises to meet you and holds out another bouquet of peonies, just as beautiful as the one with which he had met you the previous day, “So, pretty bird, do you want me tell you who was behind the threat?”

Din comes every day to pick you up after work and sees you all the way home.  Some days you take the subway together and on others you walk the long walk – but Din always stays to walk Al with you once you reach your building.  He waits patiently downstairs while you go in to get Al and lovingly greets the pup who receives him as if Din hadn’t disappeared from his life for nearly a year.  It makes you smile to see that their bond remains unchanged.

You and Din talk - freely, unrestrained; no more secrets, no emotions withheld – nothing is off limits.

As promised, Din starts with the topic of what came of the threat made against you and other Fett Family loved ones.  You insist that Din not spare any of the details that he might be tempted to temper or deem too unsavoury for you; you don’t know that Din has already made the commitment to be nothing but transparent with you.

It was the Hutts.  Everything had been the Hutts all along: from the small incidents of vandalism and theft to the minor outbreaks of violence that had increased in intensity and frequency all the way up to Cass and Rikard’s wedding, even the assassination attempt at Boba’s birthday, and then the threats made against you and those nearest and dearest to the Fetts.  The Hutts had been behind it all, though they had not done it alone.

Ultimately it had been the Fett-Pyke engagement announcement (made some time when you and Din first started dating) that had set things in motion.  When Cass and Rikard announced their intention to marry, there had been a small, contingent group of Pyke Syndicate members that had not been as happy for the couple as they claimed to be.  They had tolerated the relationship even though they found it distasteful, but a marriage?  A marriage meant a formal, legal tie to the Fett Family and that they just could not allow.  It had been years since there had been any bloodshed between the two clans, but in their eyes, some things could never be bygones.

But what could they do?  They were an older, fading minority in the Syndicate.  Lom and Marg were progressive leaders who had numbers and support - if they wanted the union to happen, their followers would fall in line.

So, they reached out to someone who abhorred the idea of the Fetts and Pykes coming together even more than they did: The Hutts.  The Hutts couldn’t care less about the legacy of old grievances - what they didn’t want is for two of their rival clans to become allies, even if they were, for the moment at least, only getting along for the sake of a couple of kids.  They feared that the ties between the Fetts and Pykes would only become stronger and that eventually, familial ties and business ties would blur.  If the Fetts and the Pykes were to work together, they would indisputably become the strongest crime syndicate in the city, easily overpowering and out-muscling the Hutts and other clans if they wanted to.

The small group of Pyke conspirators worked with the Hutts to slowly, and without raising suspicion, create discourse between the Fetts and the Pykes.  They even enlisted the help of the Crymorah Syndicate to sow the seeds of mistrust.  Those months of unrest and escalating security incidents during your relationship with Din had been the work of their efforts – Din had been right, there had been a behind-the-scenes culprit orchestrating it all.  At first, they hit all the clans and their territories with impunity - not marking anyone as an obvious target in order to foster a general atmosphere of unease and instability.  Then gradually, they increased the pressure on only Fett and Pyke marks, hoping that it would cause the two clans to start pointing the finger at each other and destroy any goodwill that the engagement had garnered.

To their great frustration, aside from putting everyone on high alert and causing undue stress on security teams from both sides, it seemed that the newly forged bonds of friendship and trust between the Fetts and Pykes, while tentative, were holding strong.

The wedding had gone off as planned to the displeasure of those who had been conspiring against it.  A few of the lower-level Hutt footmen had made a last ditch attempt to make their frustrations known by crashing the end of the wedding and getting into it with the younger Pyke cousins; but even that disturbance had been easily squashed by Din and the Mandos.

The brief period of respite that had occurred after the wedding was due to the Hutts and the rogue Pykes regrouping for their contingency plan.

This time, instead of targeting both clans in order to insinuate some kind of escalating payback between the two families, they would target only the Fetts and frame the Pykes.  The plan included a two-pronged strike on the Fetts: first, on territories and businesses that bordered those of the Pykes, and second, where it would hit the clan the hardest - family.  Between the threats made and the unyielding onslaught of attacks and violence, they hoped to run down the Mandos and throw the organization in such disarray that the Fetts would foolishly follow the planted clues leading to the Pykes being responsible – thereby breaking up any potential alliance and possibly even leading to a war that would end the possibility on a permanent basis.

It was diabolical.  And it could have very well worked if not for Boba’s instincts and his belief in the inherent good of those Pykes that he now, through marriage, considered family.

Din tells you every detail of his and Paz’s investigation: every false lead they chased down, the twist and turns of every revelation, and each and every time they fell for one of the Hutt’s traps.  You hear the names of more Hutts and Pykes and Crymoreans than you can keep straight and you learn how Din got the information needed out of each one of them.  Din doesn’t mince words and he leaves nothing to innuendo: he trusts you with the whole truth, no matter how dirty, gritty, or damaging.

Your expression gives nothing away.  You ask a million questions.  Din answers every single one in full.  He talks so much that your time together eventually extends to include Al’s late-night walk so that Din can share as much as he can before needing to wait before he sees you again the next day.

You’re not sure when, but during one of these nightly dog walks, Din’s fingers tentatively lace through yours and instead of pulling away, you give his hand a gentle squeeze and leave your hand resting comfortably in his.  He holds your hand every chance he gets after that.

After he finishes his tale with an assurance that those responsible in the Pyke Syndicate have been weeded out and dealt with, along with some graphic details on how Boba exposed and put an end to the Hutts’ subterfuge, Din opens up to you about his past.

He tells you everything you’ve ever wanted to know about the type of work he’s done for the Fett Family in the past and what he still does to this day.  Every scar on Din’s body that you’ve ever traced beneath your delicate fingers has a tale of savagery and he tells you every single one.  You grimace at the graphic descriptions, but your eyes never shy away from Din, tender and worried even now for wounds long since healed over.

Your heart breaks for Din with every story he recounts where he lost a friend, was betrayed by someone he had trusted, or where he saw the duplicitous nature of the people who occupy the world he was born into.  Every loss, every breach of trust has carved a mark into this man that you thought you knew so well, molding him into the cautious warrior that he is – only now, perhaps, do you truly understand why Din is so protective over those he holds dear, why he had been so protective over you.

He’s the man you always knew he was: honourable, loyal, true of heart, wise but somehow not jaded or world weary.  Din remains unchanged in your esteem: a good man who tries his best.  You can’t help but admire him.

One night, right before you and Al head in, instead of wishing you a good night, Din looks nervously at his feet.  

“Pretty bird, can I kiss you?”

You look at Din, not without affection but still unsure of how you feel or how you want to feel now that your story seems to be continuing beyond what you had reconciled yourself to, and shake your head, no.

Din nods understandingly and tries to give you an expression that’s devoid of disappointment; while he would have loved for you to have answered affirmatively, he would never push you.

He continues coming to see you every day and the conversation resumes without reservations.

You go back in time in your relationship and ask questions you didn’t even know you had back then.  Din remains candid and open – he’s found it to be easier to be plainly honest with you now that he’s started.  For your part, you’re astonished to learn of things you probably should have suspected, like how the boxing circuit is mob dominated because of the rampant gambling, and other things you never have would guessed, like how Mayfeld owns a successful chain of barbershops.

Sometimes the conversation veers again to how you and Din separately fared over this past year.  He always apologizes profusely and refuses to shy away from any re-airing of your insecurities and confusion about this time.  For the first time, he confesses aloud the depth of his depression and the emptiness he felt without you in his life.  It brings you no joy to hear how Din struggled and how he’s punished himself while you were apart.

It’s with sincerity that Din tells you that he found a small comfort in knowing you had moved on, that if not gone, at least the hurt he had inflicted on you had lessened; you tell him about your healing turning point: when you returned his items.  He listens, full of emotion, as you recount how going through his things unearthed memories of a loving relationship and that you consider him to be a great love of your life.  When you tell him this, it’s with an unnamed swirl of feeling that thunders in your chest.

You chuckle somewhat awkwardly when Din tells you about how Peli had stormed into Mando’s after you dropped off his boxes, bellowing that even though you had made Paz promise not to tell Din he had seen you, she “didn’t effing promise.”  Though the image that Din paints of an irate Peli is amusing, you sheepishly explain the reasoning behind the promise you extracted from Paz.  Din can’t quite believe it – you had wanted to protect him?  After everything he had done?  He thanks you for having attempted to shield his feelings, though he doesn’t think he deserved it - but then again, he never thought he deserved you.

With earnestness, you assure Din that he did and even after learning everything he’s now been so transparent about, your opinion hasn’t changed - he’s a good man.

It takes several weeks of you repeating this for Din to maybe concede that he could be.

Every night before he leaves you, Din asks you the same question, “Pretty bird, can I kiss you?” 

And while your affections for Din continue to grow and your trust in what he says solidifies, still you shake your head and say no.  Your nightly refusal is received with an understanding nod – no guilt, no pressure. 

After about a month walking you home everyday, Din suggests getting dinner one night.  You could bring Al, he says, hopefully, and cites the nice weather and abundance of dog friendly patios.

You have dinner together that night.  And the next night.  And the next.

Din’s company is as comfortable and easy as you remember; his very presence can still calm you and his sweet words and longing glances set your heart a flutter the way they used to.  You find yourself sometimes wishing Al’s nighttime walks were longer just so you can stay with Din, even though you know you’ll see him again the following day.  And yet…

“Pretty bird, can I kiss you?”

Your answer remains unchanged.  When you look deep in Din’s eyes, you see a yearning that mirrors the one that’s started to grow in your heart, but even with all that’s been said between you and him over these past several weeks, you’re still terribly unsure.  Unsure if you can trust Din with your heart again. 

Tonight, instead of just nodding at your response with graceful acceptance, Din looks at you with seriousness and gingerly brings his hand up to cup your face - he wants to makes sure you see in his eyes the sincerity that comes with his next words.

“Baby, I want to be clear - I love you.  I’ve never stopped and my feelings for you are as strong as they’ve ever been.  But I have no expectations and I would never ask you for anything.  If all I can ever be to you is someone whose company you enjoy once in a while, then I’m happy.  These past few weeks is the happiest I’ve been for almost a year.  I don’t expect you to feel the same way as me and I won’t push.  If you want me to stop asking to kiss you - if it makes you uncomfortable, or you just don’t want that thought to have any place in this friendship we’re rebuilding, then I’ll stop and I promise I’ll be okay with it.”

There he is - the considerate man you had loved.  The one who took intimate care of your emotional safety and for whom disrespect and unkindness were never an option.  You don’t know if there’s a future for you and Din in the way that he’s imaging, but Din’s sweet words and the way he’s looking at you right now make you hopeful for the possibilities. 

“Don’t stop asking,” you say in a shy voice.

The smile on Din’s face couldn’t be more radiant - it lights up his whole face and he breathes, eyes soft, “Ok, pretty bird.  I won’t stop asking.”

Din’s daily presence and the time you spend together become such a comfortable part of your life that you hardly recall what it was like before; as time goes on, your conversations become less expository and return to an easy, natural rapport.  

You ask after Paz, Lisa, Poe, Cass and Boba, and even Fennec and her mods, all the Mandos, Peli and the more colourful characters from the gym – delighting in all their recent shenanigans.

Din always asks about your friends.  When he admits how much he admires them, especially Rory, you tell him he reminds you of her sometimes and that she’s surprisingly been his biggest champion.  You think he looks proud at this.  To your surprise, Din tells you that he’s read Bea’s book – he happily discusses its characters and plot points with you, and you giggle at how he tries to hide his excitement when you tell him insider info on the upcoming second book in the series.

Topics of discussion come out of nowhere but the conversation never wanes: what books you’re both reading, new and upcoming fighters at Mando’s, Greef’s short lived attempt at mandating a required book club for all the fighters (“Gentlemen, we need to also exercise the mind”), the latest season of the Korean dating show that you were both addicted to, Katie’s upcoming play, Mayfeld’s sad attempts to recreate your garlic knots.

When you offer to make a batch and bring it over to Mando’s one day, Din jokes that he won’t tell Mayfeld unless you want him to replace Din at your next after work pick up.  Inwardly, his heart is doing backflips at you making any future plans that involve him, however tangentially.

He’s in love with you and he won’t even lie to himself anymore about wanting you back.  But he meant it when he told you he’ll never push or pressure; it would pain him to make you uncomfortable in any way.  Din drinks in every happy smile you give him and floats on the waves of your musical laughter; contents himself with stealing admiring looks when you’re not looking and he holds your hand like it’s the most precious thing he’s allowed to touch - because it is.

Din endlessly compliments you and it truly takes him no effort to make you feel the way he always did: special, beautiful, smart and witty, and like everything you do and say matters.  Your kindness and sweetness to him seems to know no bounds – he should have never expected anything less; even knowing everything you do now about him, you still treated him like he’s someone worth being around.

He thanks you for this.  For being you. 

You tell him there’s nothing to thank you for as you squeeze his hand and something in your expression gives him courage; he asks you again, “Can I kiss you, pretty bird?”

Tonight, you nod.  As Din leans in, your heartbeat quickens not just from anticipation, but also fear. 

You’re frightened.  Frightened because you want Din to kiss you.  Frightened because you think you want to open up your heart to him, but you don’t have any assurance that he won’t abandon you again.  Frightened because you want to take the risk, because you think he’s worth it.

As soon as Din’s lips touch yours, the tingling spark that spreads throughout your entire body from the familiar and missed touch leaves you shivering.  Din must feel it too because he wraps his arms around you and pulls you in close, crushing his mouth to yours to deepen the kiss.  When you open up to invite him in, you unexpectedly let out a loud sob that bubbles up from your chest without permission and hot tears spring from your eyes, running down your cheeks.

“Baby,” Din gently cradles your head in his large hands and strokes your hair soothingly.

You hiccup and choke out, “Was I so easy to leave, Din?”

“Oh fuck, sweet girl – no, of course not.  Leaving was the hardest thing I ever had to do; it nearly killed me every time I walked away from you.”

“You did it so many times,” you cry, sad and exposed.  Din had left you.  Even if you understand his flawed reasoning, you still can’t quite reconcile it with the love he professes to feel for you.

“I know,” Din hangs his head in shame, he tilts your trembling face to his and tries to brush away your tears. 

“I’m so sorry, baby. I’ll probably never understand the anguish I put you through – I told myself it was better than if any physical harm were to befall you, but I hated it, hurting you.  I only ever wanted to keep you safe, care for you, and give you everything you deserve, but I had convinced myself that it was worth it if you were safe.  When I saw the way you looked at me that night with Vanessa, I could see the betrayal you felt… it gutted me and I knew right away I had made a mistake.  I felt like the biggest piece of shit on the plant.  I was the biggest piece of shit on the planet.  And it was probably nothing compared to how I made you feel.”

You want to tell Din that you don’t like it when he talks poorly about himself, but you let him continue.

“I already didn’t deserve you, but the way I left you… the way I hurt you?  Well, that just confirmed it.  How could someone who could hurt an angel be deserving of that angel?  But baby, I loved you so much - you were my everything, my sun, my moon.  And I missed you so fucking much.  Every single waking moment of every day, all I could think about was you.  How you were, if you were okay, hoping I hadn’t somehow hurt you beyond repair.  Part of me wished you would have forgotten all about me so that I couldn’t hurt you anymore, and the more selfish part of me hoped you wouldn’t – that you might still remember what we had before with love.  When you told me that you had questioned everything about our relationship, I realized how stupid I had been to think I understood the damage I caused.  I was a bigger piece of shit than I already knew.  If it was possible, I was even less deserving of you than I thought.  I didn’t expect you to ever be able to forgive me.  So whenever I thought there was another choice between your safety and my happiness… I couldn’t choose my happiness.  I didn’t deserve it… and you deserved better anyways.  So, I always chose your safety and walked away.”

Din’s own tears have now begun to fall; he lets you wipe them away with your soft thumbs.

“But it was never easy, and I am so, so sorry, pretty bird.  Walking away from you is the biggest mistake I’ve ever made.  I love you more than life itself.”

He looks broken.  He’s so hard on himself, you think.  Din’s words touch you and you believe them to be genuine, but you don’t know how much stock you can put into them, “How do I know you won’t do it again, Din?  How do I know that when push comes to shove, if you think it will somehow be good for me, or if I deserve better, or if you’re saving me, or whatever, that you won’t leave again?”

“I could never leave you again, pretty bird.  I would rather die than hurt you ever.  And it would fucking kill me; it almost destroyed me to be apart from you this last year.  Absolutely nothing could ever be worth betraying your trust and heart again… even imagining it makes me sick to my stomach.  I love you and I won’t ever go away unless you wish me away.  I’m going to dedicate everything in my power to making you happy and to make things up to you, to earn your trust back – because that’s what you deserve.  You deserve complete devotion, loyalty, unquestioned love.  I was too stuck before on if I was deserving of you, but fuck – that was so fucking stupid of me – the only thing that matters is giving you what you need and deserve.  I’ll never leave again, baby – I promise.”

Din debates getting down on his knees to beg you, “If you give me the chance, I’ll spend every day proving it to you.  Every day trying to earn back your trust.  Would you be willing to give me the chance?”

The truth is you don’t really need to think about it - for these past few months, Din has already been on the long, slow road back into your heart.  It hasn’t always been easy and there had been unexpected turns, but Din has been unwavering and consistent in his pledge to be open and honest.  He’s extended himself and now you want to do the same; you look at him, soft and earnest, and nod your answer.

Before the joy that blossoms in Din’s chest can explode, you place a tender hand on his cheek and your happy expression mixes with one of concern, “Din, promise you’ll never call yourself a piece of shit again, okay?  The man I loved, the one I want to love me again is honourable, loyal, unflinchingly kind and sweet - and I need him to know he’s a man of value and true genuine worth.  You said so yourself, it was simpler for you to walk way when you thought you didn’t deserve me - when you believed you weren’t the one for me.  I need you to feel like you’re the one for me, okay?  Forgive yourself, please.  I deserve a man who is as kind to himself as he is to me.”

How are you so fucking sweet?  Din doesn’t deser- no, that exactly the type of thinking you just asked him to stop feeding into; he shakes it off and agrees to your request.

Din means it.  He could never leave you again - even if the world was burning down, he’d stay by your side.

He reminds you of his vow ever day after.  Tells you.  Shows you with his soft and hard kisses and with the way he holds you and treasures every touch you share.  He demonstrates it in his commitment to and the dependability of his love - showing up everyday and being unflinchingly open and honest about everything.  His raison d’etre is to cherish you, adore you, support you in the way you deserve.  Din’s love for you has never wavered and he can only show up day after day after day so that you hopefully never have a reason to doubt it again.

And then one day, Din’s not there.  You leave your office at six, around the usual time when you’d find Din waiting for you.  Only today he’s nowhere to be found - not in the courtyard, or alongside the building, or out towards the street.

You’re momentarily confused - he’s here every day, where is he?  When your head clears, you realize that it’s not just that you expected Din to be here, you want him here.  You look forward to seeing him every day and enjoy having him as a regular and consistent part of your life again.  Whatever is going on between the two of you, however or whatever you’re still figuring out, it makes you happy that he’s here. 

And today he’s not - your heart constricts at what this might mean.  Is Din okay?  Is he hurt?  You hurry down the steps of the courtyard straight to the street to flag down a cab so you can head directly to Mando’s.  It never even crosses your mind that Din has had a change of heart, that maybe he no longer wants to walk this slow road that the two of you have been treading - the one paved with trust and forgiveness, all leading to a destination you haven’t even defined.  Not for a second do you worry that Din may be giving up on what has essentially amounted to the hint of a promise that the two of you were working towards being to each other what you were before.

Because you already were.  Because you believe every word he’s said about never leaving you again, how he would be open with you about everything, that being apart nearly killed him, and how he would never give you reason to doubt him ever again.  You had told yourself you wanted to believe in Din and that you eventually could, but your heart already had.

So, if Din wasn’t here, it wasn’t because he didn’t want to be - there had to a reason.  You’re nervously fidgeting in the cab when you get a string of texts about halfway to the gym.

Unknown number [6:27 pm]: Hello!  This is Jimmy!  A big delivery of equipment for Mando’s came late today and we’ve been unloading it and Din left his phone up in his office and didn’t realize what time it was.  He told me to text you and tell you he’s sorry he’s not there to pick you up and he’s really sorry and he’ll call you when he can get back up to his office and he’s really sorry! 

You breathe a sigh of relief and laugh a little at yourself for how worried you had been. 

You love him. 

Your head’s been proven right with what your heart already knows: Din will always come through.  He’s your steady rock – your person to depend on, to trust.  You love him.

As soon as the cab pulls up to Mando’s, you spot Din.  His back is to you as he pulls a giant box off of a truck to load onto the pallet that Jimmy’s patiently holding the handle to.  Din’s back and arm muscles stretch and strain against his shirt as he lifts the heavy cargo in one swift motion, carrying it almost effortlessly - though you can see from the bulge of his veins and the tension in his neck that an impressive effort is being exerted.  And though he looks positively drool worthy, it’s the knowledge that that same strength devotes itself to your care and safety that has your heart racing.

The moment he’s set down the box you’re running to him, calling his name; Din turns at your voice and the surprise on his face is quickly overtaken by a grin so bright it might send you stumbling if you weren’t so determined to get to him.

Slamming into his hard chest, you bury your face into the comforting wall before you happily breathe in Din’s familiar, musky scent. 

“Hey pretty bird.  Did you get Jimmy’s text?  I’m so sorry – I really meant to pick you up as usual.  This delivery just took longer than I thought it would.  I’m sorry, baby.”

Mumbling into his chest, you nuzzle in further, “It’s okay, Din.  I know you would have been there if you could.  But…”

Pulling back so there’s no misunderstanding when you say what your heart wishes for Din to hear, you lace your fingers behind his neck, “I hated that you weren’t there and I just wanted you to know that.  I want you always, Din.  I don’t want you to… away.”

Din presses you back to his front and chuckles into your hair, “Okay baby, you already know I’m yours, always.  And after the way I fucked up this last year, I couldn’t be apart from your even if I was stupid enough to try.  It would fucking kill me - I’m never going to ‘away’, sweet girl.”

“Good,” you murmur, tipping your head back and letting Din’s lips find yours.

It feels like a first kiss.  Not a tentative or exploratory one like the first time your lips touched all those many moons ago, but like the first kiss heralding in a new era.  One full of promise, of giddy bliss and of partnership.  A future.  Every stroke of Din’s tongue against your own is brave and insistent and he fills your mouth with the emotions leaping from his chest that he can’t quite articulate because you won’t allow him the air to speak.  You nip and lick and sigh – wanting nothing more than to devour him, and you just might have if the hoots and hollers from your audience at Mando’s didn’t tear you, suddenly shy, from Din’s kiss swollen lips.

“Alright, alright, knock it off,” Din shouts over his shoulder good humouredly - he looks down at you, unable to contain his elation, “Pretty bird, should we go and get Al?”

You nod happily.

Over the next two weeks, you and Din enter a new phase of your renewed courtship.  No more hesitation or careful treading of your feelings, only open and jubilant reveling in your affections and love for one another.  Din dotes on you and spoils you as he always did, and you let him – generous in return with your praise and reassurances that he makes you undeniably happy.

He wines and dines you with enthusiasm, taking you out nearly every night even though you insist it’s not necessary.  He tells you that he has a lot of dates to make up for.  You make out like teenagers and take Al out on longer than necessary walks just so you can stay in each others’ arms.

Though your time together gets progressively more amorous, you don’t spend the night and Din hasn’t even come up to your apartment - as much as you can’t keep your hands off one another, you haven’t had sex.  You’re not exactly sure why this is, except that you know Din is respectfully letting you take the lead, so it must be you.  It’s not that you don’t want to – Din remains the most delicious man you’ve ever set eyes on and just one look from him can sometime send your heart racing and pussy clenching.  The way he’s been gripping your waist tighter, coupled with the heat that radiates from his hands when he runs them down your back and over your ass when you say goodnight indicates Din wants you just as much as you want him.

But for some reason, you just can’t cross that threshold with him yet.  You don’t have any doubts about Din’s commitment or devotion, and you want him with a near constant ache between your legs, so what is your deal?  Do you just want this flirty, almost innocent phase of your relationship to last a little bit longer?  Is it that once you fuck him again, you know you won’t be able to stop and you don’t want sex to overshadow the bond you and Din have been rebuilding?  Or is that while you believe in him, your brain can’t stop reminding you that at the end of the day, Din’s promises are just words with no tangible assurance that they’ll be kept?  Are you a crazy person?

You need someone to talk you off the ledge – you’re counting on your friends to help you figure out why you’re being so ridiculous when you go out tonight for Jen’s belated birthday celebration.

---

Unfortunately, you never get the chance to ask your friends for help in analyzing your self-imposed celibacy because the dinner goes off the rails almost immediately.

It starts when your pre-dinner cocktails come and inexplicably included is a round of beer that none of you ordered.  Your waitress gives you an apologetic look and explains that a group of guys at a nearby table sent them.

It’s an obvious ploy so they can invite themselves over since none of you ordered beers, so you send the pints back over with a polite, thanks but no thanks.

They approach anyways.  There are five of them of varying ages, but all old enough to know better – and all imbued with too much liquid courage and arrogance to care that they’re intruding and unwelcomed.

Successively, the men come over individually or in pairs, as if their smaller numbers might put you and your friends at ease.  It doesn’t.  Your polite assertions that it’s a girls’ night and that you’re looking to spend time with only each other are purposefully ignored; as your dismissals get more insistent, so do their efforts.

You and your friends get no reprieve or peace from the group’s increasingly aggressive advances and inappropriate comments.  When one of the men gets too comfortable with putting his hand on your lower back, you recoil and an unsettling chill runs up your spine.

It feels calculated and unnerving – too aggressive to be considered eager, but just this side of menacing.  You suspect that your table’s would be suitors aren’t playing dumb; the decision to ignore you and your friends’ clear wishes and boundaries feels deliberate.  It’s almost as if once their rejection was assured, they thought it would be fun to mess with you, scare you.

When Lala runs back from the bathroom to report that one of them grabbed her on her way back, that’s when your general sense of annoyance and discomfort morphs into anxiousness.

While the obvious answer might be to leave, you all realize quickly that at least in the restaurant, you’re in public – you’re more than sure that if you attempt to leave, your group will be followed out of the building… right into a dimly lit, possibly empty street.

And since your harassers haven’t done anything for which you can lodge a formal complaint (there were no witnesses to Lala’s run in), the five of you remain trapped at your table, unsure of what to do next.

“I’m going to call Din,” you finally say - whenever something feels off or potentially unsafe, your instinct is to run to Din

“What can he do?”, asks Jen.

“I don’t know, but I’m sure he’ll have some ideas,” shrugging, you dial Din's number and hope he’ll pick up.  Luckily, he does so after the first ring, “Hey, pretty bird.”

You almost sigh in relief, “Din…”

“What’s wrong, sweetheart?”

You can’t help but grin into the phone, “How do you know something’s wrong?”

“Just your voice,” Din says lightly.

Suddenly you're plagued with uncertainty.  Why did you call Din?  What could he do?  Would he be annoyed that you bothered him over something that really amounted to a 'bad feeling'?

“I don’t know if it’s anything,” chewing your bottom lip, you're hesitating when Din interrupts with the soothing tone and words that you need to hear.

“Baby, if you called, then it’s something to you.  And that means it’s something to me.  Tell me what it is.”

He’s always been so good at reassuring and grounding you - you continue with a little more certainty, “Well, you know how the girls and I were going out to dinner tonight?  Well, we’re at Toshi’s and there’s another table of just guys that have sort of been… harassing us?”

You can practically hear Din frown and you hurry to explain the series of events that led up to your call, finishing, “It’s not that they’ve threatened us or anything?  They just haven’t left us alone all night.  They know we’re not interested but keep coming by and making comments that make us feel uncomfortable like how they’ve already decided who’s going home with whom from their group?  One of them tried to grab Lala when she was going to the washroom and now none of us want to get up by ourselves and we’re starting to wonder what’s going to happen when we try to leave the restaurant.”

Din doesn’t miss a beat, “How many of them are there?”

“Five,” you grimace, “same as us - they’ve made that observation out loud already.”

“Okay, pretty bird, you did the right thing calling me.  Would you be okay putting me on speakerphone?”

As soon as you press the button and place the phone in the middle of the table, you and your friends lean in.  Din’s voice comes through calm and sure, “Hey everyone - I’m so sorry you’re going through this and that your evening has taken this turn.  I know it’s easier said then done, but don’t worry.  Everything will be okay - no one is going to bother you again and you’re all safe.  I know the owner of the building that Toshi’s in and I’m going to give him a call right after I hang up – building security will keep an eye on things until I get there.  I’ll bring a couple guys and we’ll be about ten minutes.  Is that okay?  Do you need me to bring anything?”

Everyone shakes their head and choruses a thank you to Din before he hangs up; you’re happy to see some relief settle over the faces of your friends.

It probably takes less than ten minutes, but the wait for Din feels long.  Your appetizers arrive but no one is really in the mood to eat; everyone remains kind of somber, though Bea and Katie do attempt a few light hearted jokes about how things would be so much easier if Toshi’s was a mob front.

Even before you see the look of recognition flash in Rory’s eyes at someone or something behind you, you feel him - your body untenses as if it senses that Din’s entered the room and it comes as no surprise when a few seconds later you feel the familiar curl of his strong hands around your waist.  You close your eyes and without turning around, lean back and completely relax against the warmth of Din’s hard chest.

“Hi, pretty bird,” he whispers in your ear, giving your temple a soft nuzzle with his nose.  Tilting your head back, you feel his soft lips brush over yours, “Hi, Din.”

Once he’s sure that you’re comfortable, Din gets straight down to business, “Is everyone okay?  I know which table of guys you were talking about – just the ones over my left shoulder?  None of them have bothered you since I hung up, right?”

Your friends confirm readily and Din continues, “I want you to know that you’re all safe.  You’ve been safe since the moment you called me.  But I know there’s a difference between knowing you’re safe and feeling you’re safe.”  You turn your head to plant a soft kiss to the base of Din’s neck upon hearing your own words used to comfort your friends.

“You don’t have to all look at once,” he chuckles, “but building security has had their eyes on you for the last ten minutes.  There are two guards by the bar, one at the stairs, another at the top, and a fifth by the bathrooms.  The manager of Toshi’s has also been alerted, so any move by those guys would have resulted in them being thrown out and it still will.”

You’re sure the entire restaurant hears the collective sigh of relief from your table.

“Now, the five of you – you’re in total control of what happens next, but there’s no rush or pressure to make any decisions.  If you’re done with this evening, we can leave right now and I’ll escort you upstairs where Jimmy and Woves will ensure you’re unbothered as you get in the cars.  We’ll personally drive you all home or anywhere else you might like to go.  But you’re also welcomed to stay if you feel comfortable enough to try and salvage your evening – again, you’re perfectly safe.  I’m here now and I’ll make sure of it.”

Contended, you see that all your friends are smiling, their shoulders and overall energy decidedly more relaxed; Jen even starts eating her calamari.  Din’s tone is authoritative, but accommodating – he’s here, here to take charge and take care of you and your friends, but just as importantly, letting you call the shots and doing what makes you feel comfortable instead of dictating the terms of your well being.

His next words surprise even you, “The other thing that is completely up to you as well, is what you want to do about those guys.  You can let bygones by bygones and pretend they never existed, because for all intents and purposes, they don’t exist to you anymore.  Or, if you would like them to be taught a lesson on… how to respect women?  We could do that too.  Completely up to you.”

You look up at Din in wonder.  Of course, you know what he is suggesting, but him being so forthcoming and transparent with your friends about this side of him?  It’s so… vulnerable.

“I think you all know what I would choose,” says Rory, frankly and without a hint of hesitation, “but honestly, Lala, you’re the one who got the biggest scare when that guy grabbed you.  What do you think?”

“Oh!  I mean… yeah.  That shit was inappropriate and no one should ever get away with thinking that was okay,” Lala says thoughtfully, “but I’m not the only one they got physical with.”

She looks pointedly at Din and he looks down at you, voice a little graver, “Did one of them touch you, pretty bird?”

You sigh and your face says it all, “It was just my lower back, Din.”

“Which one, baby?” 

Before you can decide if you really want to answer the question, someone else chimes in, “The one in the blue.”

“Bea!!!”  You look wide eyed at Bea and she makes a face like, What? No remorse at all.

It’s not that you care to spare any of those assholes from their deserved fate, but you don’t want Din to get more keyed up than he already is.

Trying to get things back on track, Katie waves her hand in the middle of the table and puts forth, “I think I might like to stay and eat.  I’m starving and I think I would prefer to wash away the memories of the last hour with some more pleasant ones.  And… my vote is that those dickheads get what’s coming to them.”

It seems like everyone agrees, but as the main courses start to arrive and the waiters comically try to arrange the plates on your cluttered table, Din looks down at you, “That okay with you, baby?”

Your heart melts at how he’s still deferring to you, even though you know from the way his fists clenched at Bea’s words that he likely has his own preference on how he’d like to handle things.  You appreciate the effort he’s making to let you lead - you appreciate him.

Nodding, you whisper, “Thank you for coming.”

“I’ll always come for you, pretty bird,” Din whispers back.

“Your pretty bird.”

Din is doing his best to do things differently.  He’s taken into account all the things you’ve talked about over the last two months in regards to him letting you into his world and not shielding you from things that might be less than innocent – he’s unsure if he’s doing it right but he knows you’re worth the effort, “Mine?”

You look at him with soft, but sure eyes, “Yours.”

He practically growls, “Mine,” before slotting his mouth over yours.  The kiss starts sweet and gentle, but you quickly deepen it to show Din some of the urgency that’s been building since he arrived.  He returns your affections with a similar insistence and possessively tightens his hold around you.  When you finally pull away, it’s with a gaze of devotion that you shyly drop before snuggling into his shoulder, fitting comfortably into your favourite nook beneath his jaw.  Din places an affectionate kiss to your hair and murmurs, “Eat,” - gently turning you towards your food.  Your heart fills with joy when you look at your friends - for the most part they look like they’re enjoying themselves, eating and chatting as if this were a regular evening.  Din did that, you smile to yourself.  Happily, you turn your attention to your plate, mindful of Din’s reassuring presence and the ever-present hands on your hips that steady you on your stool.

---

By dessert, things feel back to normal - just a regular fun night out with your friends.  The only reminder that anything was amiss earlier is Din standing sentry at your table.  Though his presence is perfunctory, that hasn’t stopped Din from joining in on the conversation and joking around with your friends.  You’re practically gleeful seeing them get along so well – knowing that in some ways, Din has won back the hearts of your friends the way he has yours. 

After the last plates have been cleared and the last of the drinks drank, Din wraps his arms around you and plants a loving kiss to the top of your head, “Ready to go?”

“Anyone need to use the restroom?” He winks at Lala, who punches him in the arm and laughs.  You beam, proud that your strong protector’s warm blanket of safety has enveloped your friends and put them at such ease that they can now laugh off events that were so upsetting only an hour ago.

“Yep!  Right after we settle the bill,” chirps Bea.

“Oh, uhhhh…” Din scratches the back of his neck and avoids eye contact with your friends, “I took care of that already.”

“DIN!”

You don’t even need to join in, your friends ready to reprimand your boyfriend without any assistance from you.

Din puts his hands up in surrender, “Look, I settled it over the phone on the way over!  I wasn’t sure if you guys would want to leave right away, so just in case, I paid so there wouldn’t be any unnecessary delay.  I’m… sorry?”

“Oh. That was smart,” concedes Rory.

“And incredibly thoughtful,” you add, smiling appreciatively at your considerate man.  The truth is, you’re prodigiously proud of Din’s display – he’s smart, strategic, decisive, but never arrogant; he’s good at this.

“Alright, pretty bird.  You lead the way, okay?  Jimmy and Woves will be right outside to get you.  I’ll bring up the rear.”

You nod and do as Din says without question.  As you’re climbing the stairs towards the restaurant exit, you spy from the corner of your eye that table of guys also getting up to leave and a (very small) part of you feels sorry for them. 

Upstairs, your relief and happiness at seeing Jimmy and Woves is second to only how you felt when you saw Din earlier.  They hug you cheerfully and greet your friends with protective warmth and familiarity before ushering you all into Din’s truck after your friends say they don’t mind squishing together in the back.  You notice that when Din comes up, he’s followed by who you assume are the five guys from building security that he mentioned earlier.  They line up to block off the sidewalk in what you recognize as a flanking position – they’re there to cut-off any escape routes.

Oh.

Din walks over and opens his passenger door, leaning in to give you a quick kiss; with a look you can only describe as apprehension, he whispers, “Pretty bird, you don’t have to look.”

You know what he’s saying.  This is the part of him and his life that he’s always shielded you from – a type of violence and barbarity that he deems you too ‘good’ for; he won’t hide it from you anymore, but it doesn’t mean you need to have a front row seat.

Kissing him back fiercely, you need Din to know that he has nothing to worry about - there’s nothing you can see that will change how you feel about him, who you know him to be.  You think his slightly dazed expression when he checks in to makes sure everyone in the backseat is doing okay means your message was received.

Through the still open car door, you hear a growing commotion and raised voices; via the windshield you see that the offending group of men have emerged from the restaurant and are now being roughly handled and herded by Jimmy and Woves into an alley.  Though they outnumber them, the guys from the restaurant are no match for the two Mandos’ size, strength and skill; with the additional intimidating presence of building security, they have no choice to comply – but it doesn’t look like they’re doing so without loud protest and undeserved indignation.

The last thing you hear before Din closes the passenger side door is Woves laughing, “You dumb fucks really don’t know whose girl you were messing with, do you?”

You don’t watch. 

Not because you don’t want to see Din when he’s like this or even because you’re especially squeamish, you just don’t really see any reason to.  The minimal sounds that you can hear through the door coupled with your friends’ gasps and reaction commentary tell you enough of what’s happening in the alleyway.

You know it’s over when you see Jimmy reach into the car in front of you and hand Din a towel to clean his hands right before he walks over to his own driver side door.  Quickly, you whisper to your friends, “He’s going to be anxious that we saw him like that, okay?”  It’s probably unnecessary, but you give them a look that that conveys how important it is that Din feels comfortable about having shown them this facet of his character, knowing how difficult it was for him.  You don’t care what happened or what he was doing outside of this truck only a minute ago, all you care about is that Din extended himself, opened himself and this part of his life up to you and even your friends – you want him to know he's appreciated for his efforts.

When Din gets in the truck, you can tell he’s uneasy - so without saying anything, you take his right hand and place it on your upper thigh, closing your legs and trapping his fingers between.  You then wrap yourself around his arm and look up at him with tenderness - you want him to know that you’re not afraid of these hands.  You adore these hands.

Upon understanding your feelings, Din’s entire stance relaxes with relief and gratitude; he leans in to press his lips to yours, sealing in his returned affection.  No words are exchanged, none needed.

It’s Bea’s deadpan that breaks the silence.

“So… is this what you meant when you said you could ‘take care’ of Gideon for me?  Because, I would have taken you up on it.”

The entire car fills with laughter and even Din can’t help but chuckle – you’re glad to see any remaining tension he’s held onto evaporating as he realizes that your friends are still comfortable around him.

And though he no longer worries that they may think so, Din still wishes to make sure that you and your friends don’t view him as some type of violent thug – a monster, “Just so you know, none of those guys are severely injured; no one has to go to the hospital.  They’re just… banged up a little.  Not trying to ruin anyone’s life or anything – just wanted to teach them a little lesson like you wanted.”

“What were you guys doing at the end?” Lala looks genuinely curious.

“Oh, you saw that, eh?  Yeah, we made them hand over their IDs and we took down their addresses, just to keep an eye on them for the next week or so.  Plus, maybe a Mando or two shows up unexpectedly to remind them not to forget the important lesson they learned here tonight.”

“Dannnngggg, Djarin.  You’re cold,” marvels Katie, half amused, half impressed.

“Well,” Din voices lowers, serious, “I don’t take very kindly to men who take pleasure in making women feel uncomfortable.”

Your friends nod appreciatively.  You lean over the centre console and press a soft kiss to the pulse of Din’s throat; the movement forces his hand to slide a little further up your inner thigh and you smile against his skin when you feel his Adam’s apple bob beneath your lips.

“Still had to wail on that guy in blue a little though, huh?”

Din catches Rory’s eye in the rearview mirror and sees her playful smirk, returning it with one of his own, “Well, you know.  It takes some people a little longer to understand the lesson than others.”

The car fills with a lighthearted laughter again and then that’s the end of any talk regarding what transpired tonight.  The men that harassed you and your friends earlier this evening and their comeuppance now a thing of the past – nothing good can come of thinking or talking about it anymore. 

As Din pulls the car away from the curb, you can’t help but gaze at him in admiration; there’s no need to tell him that he was impressive or that his display of restraint was commendable - you know that he didn’t do any of it for accolades.  Din did what he always does: protect and uphold his duty to make things safer for others.

Your friends chat comfortably in the back seat as Din drops them off at home, one by one.  You don’t join in the conversation – instead, you lean against Din’s arm and soak in the warmth of his hand in between your legs, focusing on the way he steers the car one-handedly.  The showcase of power that he exudes with just his left arm, open palm deftly pressing against the rotating steering wheel and the way the veins on his forearm flex when he power steers the truck through tight turns has you practically drooling.  You’re no longer able to deny the hot sticky desire that’s pooling just a few inches from where Din’s right hand currently resides.

At every stoplight, you notice how the streetlamps catch the handsome profile of the man next to you and wonder again at the goodness he exudes.  Even knowing now all that he’s done in the past and having bore witness to some of that brutality tonight, you want to tell Din that you see no viciousness in him; that it’s easy to see past his ferocity and to the good that drives him, to the decency that’s the core of who he is.  You want to tell Din that you know him - you want to show him that you know him.

The ride to your place is quiet, but comfortable – filled with light touches, soft looks and even softer kisses.  The serenity in the car is quite opposite to how you’re feeling inside - it’s nearly overwhelming now, how much you want this man.  Never having had a chance to talk it through with your friends tonight, you’re still not sure what your reticence to sleep with Din was, but whatever the reason was, it’s moot now.  Tonight, Din not only showed you the measure of the man you’ve always known him to be, but the man he’s become for you.  So many of his actions and efforts tonight, both overt and nuanced, took into consideration the feelings you had laid bare for him over the last two months.  Every doubt, insecurity, hurt that you had given voice to regarding Din’s secrets, making decisions for you, not trusting you – he had taken each to heart and you saw first hand tonight that he was never going to put you in the same position that had driven the two of you apart almost a year ago.

You don’t expect Din to be perfect, lord knows you’re not – but you can trust him to care, to look after your heart above all else.

When he turns off the engine, Din looks over at you with some returned hesitation, as if he’s still not sure how the events of the evening might have impacted you and where the two of you stand.  Bringing your hands up to scratch Din’s facial scruff the way he likes, you kiss him with surety, knowing what you want and more confident in your feelings for him than you’ve ever been, “Din, do you think Jimmy and Woves might be willing to drive your truck back to Mando’s?”

He nods, eyes still uncertain, “Sure, pretty bird.”

Your own eyes bright and sure enough for the both of you and you shyly offer, “So you can come up and spend the night?”

The smile that breaks out across Din’s face lights up all his handsome feature and takes your breath away; the thought strikes you that you want to always be the reason he smiles like this. 

Din helps you out of the car before handing his car keys over to Jimmy and you float through your goodbyes to the Mandos for the night, but remember to thank them again and again for coming the rescue of you and your friends.  Their heartfelt hugs remind you again of the joy you’ve always felt at being accepted as one of theirs and you’re so grateful to be familiar with that feeling yet again.

The kiss that begins in your elevator is all consuming and hungry, open-mouthed and full of anticipation.  Din licks into your mouth like a man starved - you match every stroke and brush of his tongue with a more ravenous one of your own.  You couldn’t keep your hands to yourself, even if you wanted to – you need to touch him, grab him, hold him, never be apart from him again.  Din’s own large hands roam your body, possessed by some primeval need to explore, mark and claim – the desperation in his touch makes staying quiet an impossible feat.  You moan and simper shamelessly, body throbbing with want.

Your joint passion carries the tangle of your bodies through your front door, into a place where the last held memory of the two of you was one of heartbreak.  You erase it with your desire for one another tonight, letting your renewed love and whispers of affirmation and devotion wipe the slate clean – you’re making new memories now.

Pulling back for what feels like your first breath of air since you walked into your building, you cup Din’s face in your hands and nearly gasp at the tenderness and love you see in his eyes.  You hope he can see the same in yours, “Din.  You let me see.  You let me see you in that alleyway tonight.”

He nods into your palms, rubbing his rough scruff against your delicate skin, “And you didn’t run away, pretty bird.”

Smile bright, you declare yourself as his, “Why would I?  Why would I run away from a man who stands up for what’s right?  Who comes to the aid of those he cares for with no hesitation?  Who care for their safety in every way that matters?  Why would I run away from a good man?”

No words.  There are no words in existence that can convey the depth of Din’s feelings for you.  He’s overwhelmed by your openness, your sweetness, and yes, your goodness.  After everything the two of you have shared over these past several months, he’s made it his priority to be forthright with you and not shield you from the truth of his world, no matter how ugly - he had faith in your love, and it was time he showed it.  But even so, there had been a part of him that worried despite your pure intentions, when actually faced with the darkness that was sometimes a very real part of his life, you might find it too much.

But tonight, as always, you proved to him that you were more than he could have ever dreamed.  Not only did you not run away from him, here you are, readily telling him that you still believe in him.  In his goodness.  Fuck, he loves you.  And though he’s promised you that he would no longer think himself undeserving of you, he still can’t quite figure out what he’s done in his life so that he does. 

He supposes he will just have to do what he can to deserve you from this point forward.

“Need you, baby,” Din groans against your neck, humming into that sweet spot just below your earlobe; adding, when he feels you shiver, “Don’t worry, pretty girl – we’ll go slow.”

As Din trails his lips down your neck, slow and sensual, you tilt your head to give him more access and sigh, “But what if I don’t want it slow, Din? What if I want it rough, daddy?”

Now it’s Din’s turn to shiver.  He growls against the hollow of your collarbone before nipping at the delicate skin there with his teeth, “Then I give my girl what she wants.”

Authoritatively guiding you backwards towards the big balcony window, Din undresses you without ceremony as you cross your darkened living room.  The trail of your discarded clothes tells a tale of impatience and desperation, and when you’re finally pressed against the cool glass, it’s with a firmness that makes you gasp as much as the sudden press of the frigid surface to your naked body.

Din’s eyes, blown wide and dark with lust, devour you.  Already hard and panting just from the exertion of stripping you of your clothes, now that he has you bare and gorgeous before him after so long, Din can’t imagine how he ever thought he’d go slow.

He descends upon you - hands groping your hips and ass harder than the softness of those curves deserve, but you whine into Din’s mouth to express your approval.  Din smiles a wolfish grin against your lips before he parts them with his tongue to consume you again and you willingly accept his frantic and punishing kisses.  The cold glass that you’re being pressed against doesn’t feel quite so cold anymore - you’re warm all over despite being naked and only getting hotter as the searing heat of Din radiates off of him in waves, fueling your own desire.  Greedy and shameless, you claw him for more, more, more even as your arousal drips and coats your inner thighs.

“Need you, daddy,” you whimper, hands reaching out to feverishly relieve Din of his clothes; he steps back to tear his shirt over his head and undoes his belt with a fluid flick of his thumb.  Pussy thumping, your mouth waters as your eyes rake over the perfect male specimen before you.  If possible, everything is bigger than you remember – Din’s shoulders span wide and impossibly broad, framing the thickness of his expansive chest; it calls to you in the dark, hard but inviting.  His arms are like tree trunks, powerful even in their current dormancy - you eye the tight muscles currently flexing as Din’s hands itch to touch you again.  As you ogle lower, the sight of Din’s softened stomach makes your entire being melt; before you is evidence of a hard man who has fought and earned his right to a gentler life.  You don’t dwell on this tender moment however, because your eyes can’t help but trail further down to the already hard, girthy cock that bobs between your bodies.  Mesmerized, an involuntary whine escapes your lips; you lick them as your body instinctively arches towards Din’s, pussy practically crying to be filled.

With the reflexes of a hungry wolf pouncing on his prey, Din’s hand flies out at your needy whimper and pins you at the base of your neck with his paw of a hand; though not squeezing, he nevertheless holds firm your body as he pushes you flush against the window.

You gasp at this display of roughness, but it’s Din’s next words, huskily growled as he towers over you, that have you buckling at the knees:

“Did that guy really think he could touch what’s mine?”

You shake your head the best you can while still in Din’s grip and bite your lower lip, looking at Din with a coquettish look, “No one can touch me but you, daddy.”

“What else, pretty bird?  What else am I the only one allowed to do?”

You pretend to think, “You’re the only one who can kiss me.”

“Here?” Din murmurs as he bends to kiss your neck tenderly – a marked contrast from the hard grasp he still has on its base; at your breathy moans, Din takes his time nipping softly from the sensitive spot under your ear, down the column of your throat and back again.

Din’s barely touching you and you’re already vibrating with need.  “Mmmhhmmm,” you answer his question with the lightest of sighs.

“Where else, sweet girl?”

“On my mouth, baby.  Only you can have my mouth, Din.”

Din groans at your words and seals his lips to yours.  You open eagerly for him and his tongue enters your mouth to claim you brusquely, kissing you harder, deeper.  His hand releases your neck, but Din keeps you pressed against the window with the heaviness of his body, slotting his knee between your legs and groaning a throaty roar when your slick wets his thigh.  “Dirty girl,” he hums as he moves his to worship your breasts, cupping them both in his meaty hands and thumbing your pert peaks. “What about these pretty tits, baby? Is anyone else allowed to touch these perfect tits?” he buzzes against your lips.

The sound you make is near pornographic as Din starts to grope your breasts - pulling, twisting and teasing so you dissolve beneath his touch, “Only you, daddy!  Only you can play with my tits… oh f-fuck.  And only you can suck on my nipples, daddy.”

Din takes your direction to heart - lowering his mouth to kiss your breasts, sucking and decorating your soft flesh with marks of his devotion.  You roll your hips at the sensation, urgent in your own search for some friction, but your body is jolted from its lustful efforts when you feel Din take one of your nipples between his teeth and tug, “Yes, yes, yes, Din. Just like that…”

“You like that, pretty girl?  Is this what has you moaning like a slut?” Din mumbles as he moves to give your other breast the same treatment.  The abandoned nipple is soon comforted by Din’s furious and equally talented fingers - rolling and tweaking, pinching and pulling on your hardened tip until you start to tear up from the overwhelming sensation.  It’s almost too much for you to handle and you let loose a string of unabashedly needy ramblings, “Oh god, yes, please, Din.  Right there, oh yes, daddy, that’s it, that’s it, that’s it, that’s it… Din, Din, Din!  Yes! That’s what your little slut needs, oh yes, yes. Please.”

Mindlessly, you start to grind down on him, so lost in the pleasure Din’s giving, you grab onto the soft curls of his hair for some semblance of stability.  Spurred on by your near incoherent babbling, Din’s hands move down to your ass and he lays down a sudden hard spank across your backside that has you gasping in surprise.  Grabbing a cheek in each hand, he stills your movements and hums, his face still buried in your chest, “Is there something you need, sweet thing?  Something only daddy can do for you?”

Whimpering from the still reverberating ring of Din’s smack on your ass, you eek out, “Only you can make me feel good, daddy!” Almost contrite, you plead, “Need you to touch my cunt, please, please.  Fill her up, please, Din.  This pussy is yours, no one else’s.  She needs you.”

Din looks up and the sight of you already wrecked above him nearly sends him to the moon.  He almost gives up on his assigned task of being rough and unforgiving with your lithe body – all he wants to do is kneel at your altar and venerate the needy mess he’s reduced you to.  How long could he conceivably petition you to let him pray, awestruck, to this goddess above him with her half-closed eyes and dirty thoughts spilling from her perfect pouty lips?  Forever, he hopes.  He could love you forever. 

Except you want him to touch you now.  With no choice but to obey, Din runs his hands from your ass down along the back of your legs and then over the top of your thighs, inching closer to your crying core.  Mouth still occupied with sucking, nipping and licking between your peaked nipples, Din’s hand knuckles over your slit before sliding the tips of his dexterous fingers through your drenched folds, “Look at you, already soaked.  Who is my good girl so wet for?”

Sighing from relief, you smile dreamily, “You, daddy.  This pussy only gets so wet for you.”

Din’s response is to sink two of his thick fingers in to the hilt with one swift motion; you cry out from the stretch of him, having nearly forgotten how he fills you so completely.  Your body hasn’t forgotten – flooding Din’s hand with a fresh wave of slick, your pussy pulses around his fingers as if to say welcome home.  He pumps into you with the gratitude of a man whose been denied the light of day, resigned to blindly feeling his way in the dark and is now being offered the salvation of the brightness and warmth of sunshine.  His sunshine.

“Still so fucking tight, baby,” Din grumbles, mouth still full of your heaving breasts.

“She missed you, Din,” you confess as your arms tighten around his neck, hands fisting his wavy hair.

Din bites down on the pillowy soft flesh that fills his mouth and growls, “Missed her more,” before increasing the intensity of his movements; the wet slapping sounds of his worship drowned out only by the wail you let loose when Din angles his hand so he can press his thumb down on your throbbing clit.

When Din’s other hand comes down, open palmed and harsh against your ass, you scream from the pleasure of the sting and it launches you towards your first orgasm.  You’re trapped between Din’s two monster hands: one that’s thrusting and curling to your deepest, most sacred parts and the other kneading and groping your cheek so hard, you welcome the hand marks you know you’ll find there tomorrow.

“Open your eyes, pretty bird,” Din commands, “Want to see you when you come.”  You open your eyes at his rough tone, but the eyes that meet yours are soft, a sea of devotion, veneration, love.  The very sight pushes you over the crest of your own pleasure and you shatter – chanting daddy, daddy, daddy, as you flutter.

He fucks you through it with words of praise that only serve to prolong your high – Such a good girl.  My pretty slut looks so perfect when she comes.  Never going to let you go again, bun.

You’re still catching your breath when you feel Din slip out of your sopping hole; you barely have time to bemoan the loss when you feel Din spin you around to face the window.  In the darkness of your apartment, illuminated by the brightness of the moon, you see the reflection of yourself and Din perfectly - the sight has a fresh wave of honey leaking down your leg.

“Look how fucking gorgeous you look, baby,” Din murmurs in your ear as you take in your fucked out expression and the dark obsidian of Din’s eyes as they travel your naked body; his hands roam every inch of you as he maneuvers your body into the position of his liking.

Spreading your legs to make room for himself, Din places your hands against the clear glass so you can brace yourself, before pushing gently on your lower back to arch your ass out to him.  Taking a moment to admire the view before him, he notches himself at your entrance and then curls over your body, hands covering yours, “Gonna fuck you now, bunny.”

You hum, low and welcoming as Din pushes in, his girth presses its attention against your warm walls and your cunt quivers as she remembers who he is.  You wiggle your ass playfully, beckoning him in further, which earns you another smack to your ass that has you clenching and gushing.

“Greedy little slut,” chuckles Din darkly, but he gives you what you want and thrusts in, bottoming out and punching all the air out of your lungs.  The two of you stay like this as you get used to him again - you feel so full, needy, loved.  When you tilt your head back, Din captures your mouth in a hungry kiss; you invite him in and moan as his insistent tongue glides over yours and leads it in a passionate dance, pausing only for air.

“Daddy, need you to move now, please,” you sigh through your oxygen deprived daze.

And move he does.  Thrust after thrust, drag after drag, Din’s cock moves inside you and lays claim to the heaven he’s been dreaming of for longer than he can remember.  He sets a steady but fervent pace, gritting out dirty words of praise in your ear that have you pushing back against him for more, even as your body screams at you to run from how good it feels:

My perfect slut, taking me so good.

Wish you could see how you’re creaming around me, pretty bird.

This needy cunt is so tight, it’s choking my cock.

You had forgotten how vocal Din can be and how much you love it, crying back your own song of filth and desperation:

Daddy, fuck, daddy – no one fucks me like you!

Love taking your fat cock so deep, baby.

Wreck this pussy, Din – it’s yours.

You move with him, meeting every drive of Din’s length with a downwards bounce of your own so that he bottoms out and taps your sweetest parts every time.  Din’s dirty words, hot breath, and nipping teeth on your shoulders push you closer and closer to the edge.  But it’s the wrap of his protective stance, the curving of his large frame over your smaller one, and the overwhelming feeling of Din taking care of your pleasure that has you closing in on your summit.  Feeling you tighten around him, Din drops one of his hands and takes yours with it, cupping your heat together.  He presses your delicate fingers to your clit, and with his larger ones on top of yours, draws perfect tandem figure eights.  You’re so close, so terribly close, and you whine your predicament back to Din.  He coos back reassuringly as he continues to fuck you hard, pushing your pulsing clit into the pads of your fingers as his larger ones hold them firm, “Let go, pretty bird.”

It’s the sight of Din’s hand that’s still pressing yours to the window that sends you toppling over the edge.  Large and meaty with bruises and scraped knuckles that burn bright in the darkness, each minor injury a reminder of the violence and damage that its capable of inflicting and that it did inflict tonight – to protect, attend, avenge.  And yet that same hand holds you steady, cradles yours with care and devotion.  Din’s yours like he’s no one else’s.  You’re safe and loved and untouchable because you’re his.  You cry out as much as you come.

Then he’s punching up into you, chasing after his own high to those same musical cries, now incoherent and babbling.  Din’s own words somehow soft and sweet, belying the punishment he’s doling out to your cunt:

Love being so deep inside you, baby.

You were made for me, pretty bird.

Don’t want to be anywhere except with you.

You’re spent and limp, just a worn-out fuck doll for Din to use, but you hold yourself up for him, wanting him to join you in your euphoria.  And when his pace gets sloppy and sweat starts to dot his brow, Din’s laboured pants punctate the softest of his pleas: Do you know how good you feel, baby?  What you do to me?  How much I love fucking you?  How much I love you??

Your melodic refrain of I do, I do, I do sings Din off the cliff, the repetition of those two little words conjuring up a bright flash of an image of you in white, walking towards him down a petal strewn aisle and he comes with an ear-splitting roar; painting your insides before collapsing on top of you, pressing you both to the now foggy window. 

You do.  You do know beyond a doubt how much Din loves you.  The two of you trade quiet vows and promises as Din regains his strength while holding you tight.  You stay knit together, melted and molded to one another as he softens inside you – bathed in the pureness of moonlight and wading in the pool of your love.

“I love you, Din.”

“I love you more, pretty bird.”

Locked in your loving embrace, having been apart for too long, neither of you is in a hurry to let the other go – even though you both know you have forever.  Din’s strong, protective arms band around your chest and waist, his calloused but gentle fingers lace through your graceful ones that hold his just as faithfully.  Your soft breath fans over his lips whenever Din lifts his head slightly to look once again at the beauty before him.

“Din?” you whisper, smile playful.

“Hmmmm?” He mumbles, spent, into your hair.

“I think I might want it slow now.”

Din looks down at the heaven he holds, knowing he’ll forever cater to you, devote himself to you, unable to ever deny you anything - even if you didn’t have the sweetest, most beguiling smirk on your face right now, “Anything my pretty bird wants.” 

You loll your head back against Din’s shoulder and watch your reflection in the glass shudder as Din detangles one of his hands from yours and slithers teasingly to your core – gushing as he begins to draw slow, lazy circles over your still swollen clit. 

---

Later, at midnight, when you and Din are out walking Al, your phone starts buzzing incessantly.  You chuckle when you look over the messages coming in over the group chat.

Rory [12:03 AM]: So, we gave you until midnight.  You and Din are done fucking right?

Bea [12:04 AM]: RORY!

Katie [12:04 AM]: Omigod, Rory!

Rory [12:05 AM]: What????

Jen [12:05 AM]: Jesus.  What Rory means is, we hope you get this message before the morning.

Lala [12:06 AM]: Because we want to invite Din to brunch!

Rory [12:07 AM]: It’s not really an invitation because he has to come.  We won’t take no for an answer.

Katie [12:07 AM]: We want to thank him for helping us out tonight!

Jen [12:07 AM]: Tell him brunch is on us too. Since he paid for our dinners.

Bea [12:08 AM]: Do you think we should ask Jimmy and Woves, too?  Technically they helped as well.

Lala [12:09 AM]: Or another time? Maybe this brunch should be all about Din.

Bea [12:09 AM]: Yeah, you’re right!  Another time then – we owe Din a bunch of brunches.

Rory [12:10 AM]: Right!  He has to come to all the brunches for the next month at least.  Unless… like, he’s too injured… you know, from all the sex.

Katie [12:11 AM]: I swear to god, Rory!!

Looking up at Din, who’s already smiling down at you, you beam, “You’ve been summoned to brunch tomorrow.”  You show him your phone and he laughs, “They don’t have to do that.”

“I know, but it’s a big deal to them, you know?  And me, too.”

“They’re not… put off by what they saw?”

Your heart melts at Din’s hesitation.  He must still not understand how clearly his virtue and honour shines through.  You’ll have to spend the remainder of your days showing him.

Looping your arms around Din’s waist, you look up at him in adoration, declaring with all your heart, “Never.  They feel perfectly safe with you.  Same for me, Din.  I’ll always feel safe with you.”

Din looks back down at you, heart full and in awe, forever grateful to whatever mystical force brought you into his life, “And you always will be, pretty bird.”

You believe him.

Thank you to every single person who has read this series - I really can't express what it's like to know you were as invested in Din and Pretty Bird as me 🥹🥹. Tagging a few people who I hope will enjoy and find this ending to be worthy of their interest in the story 😘😘🥰🥰:

@tuquoquebrute @furiousmushroom @cheekychaos28 @72scsuze @nerdieforpedro

@toobsessedsstuff @whirlwindrider29 @inept-the-magnificent @mellymbee @that1nerd-20

@hipabbster23 @bitccchmood @bigbutchenergee @rainbowcat164 @the-strawberrythief

@johnssherlock221 @misstokyo7love @vivian-pascal @florxdexcerezo @fanficlover1414

@rarachelchel @heartbrokenlilbitch-nef @jeewrites @sunnytuliptime @kulekehe

@bebsjo @yopossum @cartonkid1200 @rav3n-pascal22 @sjc7542

@xxx-silhouette-xxx @pedroswife69 @kilamonster @mandoshoney

[not-with-you-but-of-you]

when did you think rory started falling for jess?

I think it happened when Jess handed her her copy of Howl with his “notes in the margins.” She comes to the conclusion that he has read it before, clearly. Not only does he confirm it, but also lets her know that he has reread it multiple times. But, hold on, that doesn’t add up, because he had said he didn’t read much. And then comes one of his most iconic lines: “Well, what is much?”

And this is her reaction to it:

That is the face of recognition. It’s like she’s going, “No. No way… he is like me?? He’s the same brand of human person that I am???” And if he really is, what does it mean that he handpicked that book in particular to annotate for her after they had just met for the first time? What are the implications??? She probably went home and thought about that for the rest of the week.

If I had to pinpoint it, I would say that was when the seed of love was planted. It might have taken a little longer to sprout (maybe it did during the Bracebridge Dinner episode…) and fully bloom (probably when she decides to go see him in New York), but I’m of the opinion that it all started at that moment. (Excuse the corny analogy, but that’s the best way I found to explain my point of view haha.)

Not to get too sidetracked, but it really stands out to me how similar this scene is to this other one in 6x08:

Jess is always pulling Rory (or pulling her back) to him through books. And how interesting is it that, to wrap up their (on-screen) story, Rory is the one to do it?!

“What was that all about?” It’s just a thing between them.

It’s as though she’s gone through all these stages of realization: “Oh, he’s a reader, in the same way that I am?” -> “He has become a writer, and he says he couldn’t have done it without me??” -> “And now I’ll write a book too, thanks to his encouragement!”

Jess and Rory’s arc is just this beautiful journey of seeing yourself in the other, seeing that you’re not alone, and growing and improving because of it, and helping the other grow and improve in the process too — like two gears that perfectly connect and set each other in motion. And I think that’s pretty much what their love was all about.

[thesulkycroissant]

So there's this saying that the only time you see the middle of the road is when you're going from ditch to ditch, and that most of the time is how I feel about the canon v fanon debate.

Genuinely, I feel like people get so stagnanted in this idea that something isn't canon - which, what is comic canon anyway? I strain to unravel the mystery of which comics get to "count" and which do not - and focus on it so much that they miss any aspect of nuance.

Tim's parents are a great example. Tim's parents exist in the way they do for a simple out-of-universe reason: the writers wanted to avoid the mistakes they made with Jason by both differentiating him from Dick (making him not an orphan) and giving him a "buy-in" with Dick (something to connect them -> the circus). (Their logic was that Dick was the key to getting readers to like Tim, and that neglecting his buy-in was their misstep with Jason.) At the same time, Tim having parents is a problem because what parent is not going to notice their kid being gone all the time playing midnight vigilante? Solution: absentee parents. But now the shift to in-universe happens. Tim's parents are gone all the time, but it's not malicious; they're just kind of clueless. They love Tim. Tim loves them. But they are not around. And this out-of-universe choice, once you enter into the universe, logically can - maybe even should, if you're taking the characters seriously - effect how a character reads.

Tim's parents are gone all the time. There's every probability that would cause trauma. Unintentional, but fun to explore! The comics do a very little. I think fandoms can often make the mistake of believing subtle abuse (like neglect) is not sufficient, so it gets elevated to something physical. But your parents loving you and also causing you trauma is a relatable experience, I think. Even your parents doing their best and still causing you trauma is.

Jason being the angry Robin is another rough one. Because yeah, I agree, Scott Lobdell did some wacky and unkind things to Jason's backstory. But Jason, even going back to his original (not original, but his original non-just-Dick-but-blond) backstory, is a traumatized orphan willing to take the risk and steal tires from the Batmobile as a means of survival (in Gotham! In Crime Alley!). Why can't Jason be angry? In the throes of adolescence, at a time when he feels safe with Bruce, doesn't it make sense for his trauma to find its way out in anger? Can't he both believe Robin is magic and be angry? Can't he be sweet and angry both?

Dickie and anger. Yeah, anger plays a role in certain story arcs of his. In NTT, and in the first 80s Nightwing run, the stories take pains to show that the anger is triggered by something and channeled into brutal focus. And that it does not serve him. Dick's relationship with Kory in NTT nearly falls apart because of his anger. He treats her very poorly. I see a lot of people saying they want Dick to be angry, but not allowing Dick to learn how to control his anger is not giving the character his dues either.

And Damian. Shoot. Reading the One Bad Day comic for Ra's al Ghul kinda ruined me a bit because of how much Ra's obviously loves and respects animals, and how can you not see the echo of that in Damian's love of animals? Damian's League trauma is such a thing worth exploring, and I think the value of exploring it only goes up when you add in the complicated factor of the fact that Talia and Ra's do love him, and he does see them when he looks in the mirror, and every day Damian has to decide which parts of his family - his whole family - are good to keep and which are not.

Anyway. There's probably more, but this post is already pretty long lol. Nuance is cool, that's all.

[yumeka-sxf]

Japanese Linguistic Observations in Spy x Family - part 4

Part 4 - Furigana and double meanings

I discussed in Part 2 how Japanese is comprised of three different alphabets: hiragana and katakana (together referred to as "kana") which represent pronunciation, and kanji which represent meaning. With there being over 2,000 kanji in common use, as well as various ways to pronounce any one kanji character depending on the word it's in, children learn kanji gradually throughout their school years. So manga and books aimed at a younger audience will typically have kanji "translations." These are comprised of small kana called furigana which are printed to the right of the kanji to show how to pronounce it. In the below panel for example, the one word that has a kanji is the 嬉 in 嬉しい. The furigana shows that 嬉 is pronounced うれ ("ure") to make the adjective "ureshii" (happy).

Sometimes manga authors will use furigana+kanji in creative ways to convey different meanings to words that specifically suit their story/characters. This alternate way of translating kanji is called 当て字 (ateji). One way of using ateji is to help introduce fictional terminology. In SxF for example, Ostania and Westalis are made-up words, but Endo assigns them their own kanji: 東国 for Ostania and 西国 for Westalis. The second kanji for both of them is 国 which means "country," and the first kanji for Ostania is 東 which means "east" while 西 for Westalis means "west." However, to differentiate them from the actual words these kanji represent ("toukoku" and "saikoku," which mean "eastern country" and "western country" respectively), Endo writes out their pronunciations in katakana next to the kanji. You can see this in the panels below.

Even though they're not real words, by assigning them kanji that represent what they are – "east country" and "west country" – even without any context, Japanese readers get more information about these terms than English readers do thanks to the use of kanji and furigana.

Another way manga authors can use ateji to suit their needs is by telling readers to pronounce otherwise normal Japanese words in the "language" they want. For example, the word used for "codename" in SxF is 暗号名, which is a real word that is pronounced "angoumei." However, when we look at the furigana that Endo assigns to it, he specifically tells us to pronounce it like the English word "codename" (コードネーム).

Since SxF is a series that takes place in a fictional version of Europe, Endo must have found it more fitting to use English for specific keywords like this.

While the above examples are fairly common throughout all manga, especially those that have a lot of fictional terminology, Endo also gets creative with using ateji to form double meanings that lend insight into the characters' thoughts/feelings. And we get one of the best examples of this in the very first chapter:

This is the scene where Twilight's saying that he became a spy to create a world where children don't have to cry. The word for children, 子ども, should be pronounced "kodomo," however, the furigana is telling us to pronounce it as じぶん (jibun), which means "self." By creating this double meaning of Twilight saying he'll make a world where children and/or he himself doesn't have to cry, points out in a subtle yet poignant way just how much Twilight's trauma as a child shaped his determination to make sure other children don't have to suffer the same fate. It's a brilliant way of showing a deeper side of the character that he wouldn't outwardly show.

A similar example occurs in chapter 49 during the cruise arc, in the scene where Yor is guarding the room at night, thinking about how she was dragging her feet during the Barnaby fight. Her last thought during that scene is wondering what she's fighting for, however, even though the word used is いばら姫 (ibarahime), which means "Thorn Princess," the furigana tells us to pronounce it as わたし, which is the "I"/"me" pronoun that Yor uses.

The ambiguity of reading the word as "I" or as "Thorn Princess" emphasizes how she's struggling with her Thorn Princess identity at that time. It can almost have a different meaning when reading it one way or the other. For example, reading it as わたしは何のため ("For what reason am I [doing this]…) or as いばら姫は何のため ("For what reason is Thorn Princess [doing this]…) gives the impression that she's trying to distance herself from "Thorn Princess"…that she's unconsciously seeing herself and "Thorn Princess" as different people.

Another example that's not as deep but still interesting is from chapter 87, where Sylvia visits Fiona in the hospital and tells her not to push herself so hard, even for his sake, with "his" referring to Twilight. The kanji used is 黄昏 (tasogare) which means "Twilight," but the furigana translation is あいつ (aitsu) which means "that guy/that person."

This is a clever way to use kanji/furigana to indicate that Sylvia is indeed aware of Fiona's feelings for Twilight by having her not refer to him by name, but also informing the reader that she definitely knows who she's talking about.

I also find it interesting that all three of these examples are spoken from a character we're viewing from behind. I think it's just a coincidence, but still interesting 😅

I'll wrap up with one more example from chapter 58, where Loid notes that his understanding of Bond is lacking, just like Anya. Once again, the word for children, 子ども (kodomo) is used (Loid likes making double meanings with that word, doesn't he?) but the furigana translates it to アーニャ(Anya).

I interpret this as him saying he needs to understand children better, but he specifically means Anya (even though he doesn't want to admit his particular yearning to understand her).

If you're wondering how the anime handles these ateji, it seems to vary. In the anime version of the chapter 1 example, Loid says the correct kanji translation "kodomo," but in the chapter 49 example, Yor says the furigana translation "watashi."

The anime seems to use the reading that would make the most sense if spoken out loud by the character.

I haven't read enough manga in Japanese to say that this use of furigana+kanji to create double meanings is a common thing, but even if it is, I'm sure Endo has his own unique style of doing it. I know there's more examples in SxF that I missed, and unfortunately I don't have the time to look through every chapter to find them. But if you happen to come across any others, feel free to let me know 😃 I may amend this post or create another one if more interesting examples pop up.

Continue to Part 5 ->

<- Return to Part 3

[atlasofthestaars]

[MX X READER] New Era - Chapter .003

first part | previous part | next part

NOTE: First off, thank you ALL so much for the support! I sincerely love every one of your comments so far, and feel grateful you all enjoy the story! The comments are lowkey pushing me to write this all, so again tysm for the support!

Hopefully this chapter showcases how I’ll try to implement extra scenes within the story! Because after this chapter we will divulge for a bit storywise to get bonding moments between the kharacters and the reader! I’m doing this due to the months time skip, and thought it’d be a good time to develop some of the relationships before the Outworld arc!

Sorry for how Lin Kuei heavy the interactions have been, but we’ll soon get the champion squad as the focus soon, so I did want to implement some of this groundwork first. That doesn’t mean the Lin Kuei are totally gone soon, especially since I also need to give Smoke his share of time together, but they will be used less often after this chapter so we can bond with the others.

ALSO, for those reading this on tumblr, please reply to the poll here whether you do want Shang Tsung as a love interest! It will affect my planning somewhat so I would like to gauge interest! AO3 fans, leave a comment on your thoughts !

ALSO ALSO! If you want a character included as a love interest that is NOT part of the initial roster mentioned in part one, please send in messages/leave comments mentioning it so I can see what you all want! It’s not a guarantee, but it is helpful to get input on those types of things.

FROM THE EYES OF ONE WHO HELPED RECRUIT NEW ALLIES

“Only you and Kuai Liang for this mission?”

You eyed the blue clad and yellow clad assassins curiously as you walked into the room where the Lin Kuei trio typically sat when they were awaiting for Liu Kang. You pursed your lips as you walked right up in front of the two brothers, your gaze switching between them before they settled on Bi-Han. You crossed your arms as you watch Bi-Han’s gaze narrow.

“That should be more than enough.” Sub Zero replied gruffly, keeping his gaze on yours. It felt like a staring contest was always happening between you two. While most times you would entertain it, you instead searched his face. It was hard to tell whether Bi-Han was irritated, or if it was his grumpy face that he always wore, but from the years you knew him, you picked up on the tells.

This time, it was simply his natural face. 

“I’m not saying it’s not enough, I’m just surprised.” You replied smoothly as you moved your gaze from Bi-Han’s face to the arm you had patched up yesterday. You sighed as you pulled out the medical kit you had tucked away on your person. “I would have thought that the Grandmaster of the Lin Kuei would know how to regularly change his bandages.” You chided as you knelt beside where he was sitting.

“I know how to change my bandages, fool.” Sub Zero scoffed, but as usual let you come close to inspect the wound you had dressed. You let the insult go, you knew at this point any insults towards you were rarely meaningful. If he really hated you, he would have not even let you dress his wounds in the first place.

It was odd, before he used to be diligent about changing his own bandages. But nowadays it felt like he expected you to change it for him. 

Maybe it was because you started to patch him up for him instead of letting the cryomancer do it himself. It had bugged you, how often he left wounds unattended. Never had they turned into infections, but it irritated you to no end. So one day, you just began to do it for him, despite his initial protests.

Now it was like a routine between you two. It didn’t happen often, since Bi-Han had become more proficient in avoiding injuries, but it happened enough that it felt like a routine.

You gently removed the bloodied bandages from around his right bicep. You hummed as you noted how it was healing. Carefully, you brushed your fingers over the wound to see it had begun to scab over. You noted the odd way he seemed to tense at this, and sent him a small glance.

“Relax, I’m not going to stab you.” You teased, a small chuckle leaving your lips as you returned your gaze back to the wound. Even though you weren’t looking at him, you felt Bi-Han’s gaze burn into you. Maybe being the pyromancer would have fit him better with how searing his gaze was like. 

“As if you would get the chance.” He grumbled as he relaxed. You rolled your eyes as you carefully reapplied the bandages over the wound. Proud of yourself, you grinned as you pat the bandages on his bicep. 

“Done.” You declared as you stood back up. You saw Bi-Han sigh as he reluctantly nodded in acknowledgement. You turned your gaze towards the younger brother, sending Kuai Liang a soft smile. 

Strange, why did Bi-Han seem a bit irritated at your smile?

“Do you need any wounds of yours patched up while I’m at it?” You inquired as you walked over to stand in front of Scorpion. Returning your soft smile with one of his own, Kuai Liang shook his head, holding up a dismissive hand. His eyes sent an almost apologetic look towards you, as if apologizing for his brother.

“While appreciative, it is not necessary. I was not cut during the examination.” Kuai Liang reassured you with a small nod. You returned the nod, glad to hear the news. Still, your eyes roamed his body to see if he had any bruises that were beginning to bloom. 

“Good, I’m glad to hear it.” Your smile grew to a grin as you recalled the events of last night. The exam still buzzed in your head, and you could easily replay it in your head over and over. “Good performance, by the way. I didn’t get to tell you that yesterday.” 

“I was simply doing the job as required.” Kuai Liang humbly said, though you could see a hint of what you interpreted as bashfulness within his expression. You laughed. The Lin Kuei trio, so different, yet all people you held close to your heart. They were the ones you considered to be your friends, and you only hoped they returned the sentiment.

“Come, Lord Liu Kang is ready for the both of you.” You beckoned them to follow, and almost in sync they stood up and followed your lead. It was quiet for a few moments as the three of you walked through the Fire Temple. You felt like a leader of a pack, with Kuai Liang on your left and Bi-Han on your right. You briefly wondered if this is how Liu Kang often felt. “Were you both informed of what our mission is, and where we are going?” 

“From what I recall, we are going to California to recruit an actor and a swordsman to see if they will join Lord Liu Kang’s cause.” Scorpion piped up, and you nodded, pleased at how accurate his memory was. 

“It is unnecessary for all three of us to have to go.” Bi-Han commented. Despite his words seeming rough, you could sense he was only speaking his mind and not trying to insult Liu Kang…even if he could definitely word it better.

“It is probably for the best for all of us to go, just in case.” The younger brother interjected, sending his older brother a glance. “Lord Liu Kang has his own reasons.”

The conversation ground to a halt, and you felt the temperature drop around you three by a few degrees. 

You ignored it as you three arrived at the door of the room where Liu Kang was waiting. Best not to linger on that. 

You all had a mission to get to, after all.

So this was California.

You marveled at how different the city around you was. The buildings were so different. Everything was different. You took in the atmosphere as you basked in the small amount of time you all had to stand around before you had to go.

Even though the area you teleported too was on the quieter side, the area around you was so much busier than it was anywhere you’ve recently been. So many lights, noises…it was so foreign. You were so in awe you even let Bi-Han scoff at your amazement without glaring at him.

“Is it possible for you to confirm the location?” Liu Kang inquired, after calling your name. You blinked as you stepped forward to look towards the fire god. You nodded, pointing to a large fancy home up ahead.

“That one, correct, Lord Liu Kang?” You asked, eying the place. You watched as the fire god nodded approvingly. Jumping and leaping into the air, your form turned smoothly into that one a crow and you flew close to the house. 

You always enjoyed being a bird, feeling the wind in your feathers and the feeling of freedom it granted. Circling the house, you spotted how a wall was completely open, and you soared down towards that area, landing just behind the wall beside the pool. You noted the large floating plastic animals in the pool.

Interesting.

“Step one is selling this place.” A woman spoke. Curious, you tilted your head to peek barely in, seeing who you presumed to be Johnny Cage and a woman. Your head pulsed with the all too familiar headache as you peered at the man who paced inside the house. 

Your mind granted you a vision of a similar looking Johnny Cage, so you knew you were in the right place.

Who was the woman though? You peered at her, vaguely listening in on the argument between the duo. You didn’t even bother to hide yourself all too well behind the wall at this rate, they were too deep in their conflict. 

When you gazed at her, no sense of headache arose in your mind. You continued to eavesdrop, learning about the unfortunate circumstances befalling Johnny Cage and who you presumed was his wife with the conversation they were having. You nodded as the words they said confirmed your suspicions.

Cris…Wasn’t his wife supposed to be Sonya Blade?

Your head seemed to pound upon remembering that, and you winced. Sonya Blade…Sonya Blade… If only you had more time to interpret and unravel these memories when convenient, and not when you were on a mission!

Taking a mental note, you told yourself to write this down in your journal within the Fire Temple as soon as you got back.

Either way, you figured out that in this life, Johnny Cage was with a different woman.

You watched with a sense of pity as Cris walked out on Johnny…or John Carlton as you just learned. Although the man seemed distraught, you were surprised to see that he didn’t chase over his wife. You observed as he continued to drink, berating himself.

You felt guilty intruding on such a private moment. 

Your guilt vanished as you watched a swordsman enter the house, dressed in a suit. Carefully, you backed up behind the wall, but you were sure he probably wouldn’t have even seen you. Even without the pulsing of your mind, you knew who this man was due to Liu Kang: Kenshi Takahashi. You watched the beginnings of their confrontation before backing up.

That’s all you needed to know. 

With a quick flap of your wings, you got back into the air and flew back to the trio who were waiting right where you had left them. Landing on the ground, you stood up as you transformed back and no trace of the crow you had been was left.

“It’s the right location.” You began as you rolled your shoulders back, trying to bend your body back into shape. “Johnny Cage is confronting Kenshi Takahashi over a sword named Sento.” You informed Liu Kang, bowing as you told the fire god of what you had seen. 

“As expected.” Liu Kang said before nodding, a smile on his face. You took that as praise as you stepped around to take your spot again at his right side. “Come, the confrontation will be over soon.” With a nod from the others, you all strode down the hill over to Johnny Cage’s house.

Without hesitation, Liu Kang rang the doorbell as the four of you arrived in front of the front door. You looked around, noting how the house looked from the front instead of the back. It was much, much different than what you had been used to in the Fire Temple. 

Instinctively, you straightened your posture as you heard the door open. You stared forward at the perplexed face of Johnny Cage, holding back the amusement you wanted to let out. You had to look professional. Both of the Lin Kuei brothers stood behind you and Liu Kang. 

“What in the actual fu-”

“Good evening, Johnny Cage.” Liu Kang cut him off, his arms uncrossing as he bowed and introduced himself. Johnny recoiled at the action, looking confused as ever. “I am Liu Kang, protector of Earthrealm.” The fire god introduced himself, wasting no time. He gestured to the inside of the house. “May we enter?”

“Uh…” Johnny leaned over, peering at all of you suspiciously. “Nothing’s being shot here tonight. You sure you’re in the right place?” Johnny inquired, looking at all of you as if you were all crazy. 

“Yes.” Liu Kang answered seriously, nodding. “We come here on a matter of grave importance. We must speak to you and your guest.” 

“What?” Johnny seemed shocked at the mention of Kenshi, before squinting at the group in suspicion once more. He leaned close, dropping his voice to be closer to a whisper. “How do you know about him?” 

“Because I am the God of Fire.” Liu Kang responded, his voice holding an authoritative tone. Despite this, Johnny seemed to brush it off. You raised your eyebrows, surprised to see how quickly the man fell into denial. 

“Cris, you vixen. Nicely done.” You bit the inside of your cheek, feeling a pang of guilt in your chest. He thought his wife set him up for an odd prank. You looked away until he spoke up again. “Sure.” Johnny said, drawing out the word in such a way to make it obvious he didn’t believe a word of what Liu Kang had said. “Come on in.” And with that, he opened the door to welcome you all in. “Glowing eyes are a nice touch.”

You all entered the house, and you noted how it looked from this angle. Your eyes fell on the swordsman who was now tied to a chair next to the pool, and you were slightly surprised to see he had lost. You followed Liu Kang swiftly as you approached the tied up man.

“Kenshi Takahashi.” Liu Kang addressed the man. He stopped in front of Kenshi and crossed his arms in a disapproving way. “A tragic figure with a noble cause. Your actions this evening do you no credit.” Liu Kang even threw in a disapproving shake of his head.

“Who are these people?” Kenshi inquired, just as perplexed. You focused your eyes on the swordsman as the tiny voice in your head questioned how the man in front of you had his eyesight. It seemed that way, at least.

Past life. Right.

“You tell me, they’re your scene partners.” Johnny Cage answered back with a shrug, looking towards Liu Kang for an explanation.

“I also know of your struggles, Johnny Cage.” Liu Kang spoke, turning his gaze to Johnny Cage. You nodded subconsciously, having witnessed the struggles Johnny had through the argument he had with Cris. “I am here to offer you both a path forward.” 

“Dun. Dun. Dunnnn.” Johnny retorted dramatically, his carefree attitude shining through. He still didn’t believe the situation, and for a brief moment you recalled how this felt all too familiar. The actor let out a laugh, looking around. “C’mon guys. Let’s call this. Cris was a doll to set this up, but…” He shrugged as he scoffed. “As pranks go this one’s…eh…a bit obvious.” 

“This is no prank.” Liu Kang warned Johnny. He looked at you and spoke your name before gesturing towards Kenshi. “If you please.” You nodded as you strode over to Kenshi’s chair and knelt behind him. You observed the rope. Normally, you would transform your hand into claws to free the man, but you did not want to risk hurting Kenshi, especially with how thick this rope was, it was better to untie it.

You set to work untying it. You struggled, noting how strong and tight the knots were. Did Johnny Cage have experience in typing people up? You grimaced as you continued to try and untie the rope. You were so concentrated on the task in front of you, Johnny’s words didn’t register in your head. 

It wasn’t until he laid a hand on you until you noticed he had been talking to you.

Eyes wide open, you paused as you looked up in shock, your mind reeling as you tried to piece together whatever Johnny had been saying. His grip was strong, but it didn’t hurt. You were just confused at what he had been saying. 

You had no time to do so as you watched Bi-Han shoulder tackle Johnny off of you before sending him flying with a heavy kick.

“Bi-Han!?” You exclaimed, surprised at the sudden action from the cryomancer. You were stunned as you watched Johnny groan as he had a glass fixture drop on him. The grandmaster did not turn around to look at you, but you watched as Kuai Liang stride up, sending you a concerned look before looking towards his brother.

You were surprised that Kuai Liang did not tell him off. For a moment, the two brothers sent each other an unreadable look as they got into a fighting stance against the now angry Johnny Cage. You paused in your actions to watch the fight happen, confused at how it escalated so much. 

It had been an honest mistake on Johnny Cage’s part. 

Somehow, the actor knocked down the brothers. 

“I hope you’re insured, because you’re paying for my Hichuli.” Johnny huffed as he stared at the Lin Kuei duo who got up from the ground. You stood up, trying to speak up, but were cut off by Bi-Han’s outrage.

“Imbecile! You have no idea with whom you are dealing!” Bi-Han pointed towards Johnny Cage, seeming ready to go again and fight. You shook your head as you strode over to make Sub Zero calm down.

“Bi-Han-”

“ENOUGH!”

You jolted as you side stepped to avoid the burst of flames that emerged from Liu Kang. Loud beeping occurred for a second, and you winced at the noise. You sighed as you continued your walk over to Bi-Han, standing right next to him.

“Uh…” Johnny said, his eyes wide in disbelief as he had shielded away from the flame. “That’s no special effect.” He continued, and the look on his face told you that he was finally piecing things together. 

“Indeed, Johnny Cage.” You could not see Liu Kang’s face right now, but the tone he held said enough about the frustrated look he was sending the actor. The god of fire inhaled and turned to you three. You held the god’s gaze as he examined you before looking towards Scorpion. “Kuai Liang?” He inquired, gesturing towards Kenshi.

You watched as the younger brother walked away to finish the job of freeing Kenshi. As Liu Kang spoke to Johnny and Kenshi, you sent a perplexed and slightly angry glare at Bi-Han. Why had he been so aggressive? 

Yet, despite your glare, you didn’t think you were actually angry. Just mostly…confused.

Bi-Han, despite his knack for wanting staring contests with you, seemed very keen on ignoring your glare this time. You sighed as you looked away and focused on the conversation with Liu Kang. 

“All will be explained, Johnny Cage.” Liu Kang told Johnny Cage as Kenshi was untied and he got to stand up. “For now, what is important is that you both have been chosen to join its champions.” He said, now referring to both Johnny and Kenshi. 

“Why him?” Johnny pointed at Kenshi in confusion. “Or me, for that matter?” He asked, turning to look at Liu Kang with a perplexed look. 

“Because I have faith that you will rise to the challenge.” Liu Kang explains to the actor. “And because your service will change the arcs of your lives.” Liu Kang looked at the three of you and dismissed you all, allowing you to wait outside while he discussed the finer details with the two. Almost immediately, Bi-Han walked off, leaving you in the dust.

“I would advise to not take offense to his attitude.” Kuai Liang said as he stepped up to stand beside you. You sighed as you crossed your arms, looking towards the entrance. You shook your head as you looked towards the younger brother. 

“I’m not offended.” You clarified as you searched Kuai Liang’s expression. “Just…confused why he would do that.” You also had confusion on why Kuai Liang would also help him take down the actor, but you would chalk that up to the brotherly bond the two had…even if it felt like it was waning nowadays.

Memories of two brothers, one corrupted and inky like a shadow, and the other an icy grandmaster flashed in your mind.

You closed your eyes as you tried to push out those memories. It’s been years since you’ve first had them about the Lin Kuei since you’ve met them so long ago, but when you worried over the two, you were always reminded,

Damn these memories.

“I see.” Scorpion said, and although his words seemed final you could sense the hesitant tone in his voice. It was strange, but you assumed it was due to Scorpion’s manners. He was never one to make unnecessary comments. You turned to look at Liu Kang, to try and focus in on the fire god’s words to get your mind off of things.

Still, you felt the gaze of Kuai Liang burn into you.

Thankfully, the protector of Earthrealm quickly wrapped things up with the new recruits. He turned around, and there was a faint look of surprise to see that both you and Scorpion remained inside the manor. Regardless, he nodded and smiled at the two of you before exiting with the both of you in tow.

Outside, Bi-Han had been waiting, arms crossed as he leaned against the wall. His eyes were focused on the ground, and a furrow in his brow. He seemed deep in thought, but his demeanor quickly shifted as he heard the three of you approach. The cyromancer straightened up and came to attention, nodding.

“Excellent work, you three…even if there were some hiccups.” Liu Kang commended as you all followed him to the hill where he had initially teleported you three from. Liu Kang did not look towards Sub Zero, but you all knew who he had been referring to.

The walk back to the hill was silent. That wasn’t unusual, but the uneasy tension between the group certainly was. You held back a sigh as you continued to walk beside Liu Kang, trying to pretend like the source of the tension wasn’t you and Bi-Han.

You disliked this.

“You are all dismissed, thank you for your services.” Liu Kang thanked the three of you as you arrived back in the Fire Temple. Teleporting was always quick, and you were thankful for it. You nodded as you began to walk off. You needed to walk to clear your head. 

It wasn’t long after you set off that you heard your name be called. Surprised, you turned around and stood still. You blinked as you watched Kuai Liang jog over to you, nodding as he came to a stop in front of you.

“Would you mind if I accompanied you?” The pyromancer inquired, and you furrowed your eyebrows in confusion. While it was not uncommon that you had been on walks with the assassins before, it was odd to have it occur after a mission.

“Are you not going with Bi-Han back to the clan?” You inquired, crossing your arms as you shifted your weight to one leg. You scanned Kuai Liang’s face, searching for any sort of answer. He shook his head, and you were genuinely surprised.

“I asked brother if I were allowed to stay for a bit. He was fine with it.” Scorpion answered, and you hummed. Odd, but Kuai Liang was anything but a liar. You nodded, shrugging.

“Alright, I don’t see why not.” You said, curious why he had wanted to stay. Was it just to talk to you? That felt a little ridiculous, but you didn’t know what else it could be. A slight expression of relief settled on the assassin’s face as he moved to your side. 

“Thank you.” He said, and you waved off the words. You didn’t see why he’d be thanking you for something so simple.

“Don’t mention it.” You said, and then the two of you walked off. You tried to not think about the odd scenario, but it ended up haunting you as you walked. You lasted about five minutes before you let out a sigh and turned to face Kuai Liang, arms crossing. “Okay, I’ll say it. Why are you here exactly? I’m not ungrateful for your presence, it’s just that I can tell that you came here for a reason.”

“You are perceptive as usual.” Scorpion praised, and you both accepted the compliment, but also wanted him to get to the point already. “I just wanted to see if you were feeling alright. I could sense you were upset with brother and…”

“While appreciated, you do not need to make up for your brother’s actions.” You said quickly, wanting to stop Kuai Liang from going on. You sighed, sending him a weary, but grateful smile. “Look, I know you are close with Bi-Han, but I don’t want our conversations to revolve around him. We’ve known each other for years, I consider you a friend, and I want to be able to talk to you, Kuai Liang, not Bi-Han’s brother.”

For the first time in perhaps forever, you saw a look of surprise on Kuai Liang’s face. With a moment of hesitation, he nodded. He put on a small smile, seeming genuinely grateful for your words.

“Alright, then let me, Kuai Liang, accompany you on this walk.” 

“Good, I’m glad.” You grinned at him as you both set off on your walk. You walked on, feeling more relaxed and relieved now. Words were exchanged here and there, but with Kuai Liang, you didn’t really need words. The two of you could bask in a comforting silence together.

 Still, the memories from earlier still flew around in your mind like an annoying fly. Sensing this, you noticed Kuai Liang’s concerned look.

“I’m fine.” You lied, a worried feeling filling your mind as you looked at the man who often haunted your memories. Your heart squeezed as you looked back ahead. As much as you wanted to confide in anyone, someone about your memories, you couldn’t. Or rather, you didn’t. 

No one needs the burden of the memories that plague you. Of the knowledge of other “lives” they had lived, especially since you did not even know whether these visions were even memories themselves. You just assumed it, seeing as they all seemed to follow a life you once lived. 

Even though you spent time pondering these visions with Liu Kang, you only did so in the most desperate times now. The fire god had no idea just how many more memories you had unlocked that he was unaware of. That whole dilemma leaves a guilty imprint on your soul. 

Still, the honest and welcoming dark eyes of Kuai Liang was tempting. For a moment, you opened your mouth, wanting to confess how worried you were over the trio of brothers. How you knew of a world where they all were torn apart by death and corruption.

Of how he was the only one alive of the three of them by what you could remember.

You couldn’t though. That knowledge wasn’t fair. Plus, there was no way to explain anything well. You’d just seem like a hallucinating amnesiac, and you didn’t need one of your friends thinking of you that way.

“I’m just thinking about how Johnny and Kenshi will fare during training.” You continued to lie. Despite the momentary guilt, your mind did turn to the new topic with open arms. Ah, right, you were going to be in charge of their training. Or at least, somewhat. You still haven’t discussed that whole ordeal with Liu Kang yet.

You really had to get on that.

“I have a feeling the swordsman will be competent.” Kuai Liang mused, his head tilting to the side as he spoke aloud. “The actor, I fear, will be a challenge.” The yellow clad assassin confided in you, and you let out a small chuckle. “I have faith in you that you will be able to instruct them, regardless of the difficulty.”

“How is it that even when you’re insulting someone, you make it sound somewhat eloquent?” You inquired, grinning at the man. Though he did not have a grin that stretched from ear to ear, you could see the subtle smile on his lips. He seemed pleased with himself, and it was a sight you were blessed to see. “Thanks, still, I’m honored to have you think so highly of me.”

“There is no reason to think so, the high regard I have within you is rightfully earned.” Scorpion replied. You looked away, letting out another laugh, though this one was more bashful. Did this man know how he sounded? You couldn’t tell.

“Okay, okay, stop flattering me before I suspect that you want something from me.” You said, managing to find the words to respond to him after the high compliment he gave you, deciding to play off the warm feeling you got from all this as lighthearted. You felt outdone, not knowing how to make him feel the same way he made you feel after his praise. 

“I hope you know I am serious about the praise I give you, but I shall relent.” Scorpion said, the serious tone he seemed to always have was prominent in his tone. You swallowed as you nodded. You knew. Kuai Liang was never one to play around, especially with the feelings of those close to him.

You wished he did though, just for this one moment, so you could pretend that the words he told you didn’t affect you as much as they did.

“You are too kind, Kuai Liang.” You murmur as you find yourself back at the Fire Temple. The walk had gone faster than expected. You supposed that’s what good company does. You watched as the Lin Kuei assassin stopped at the entrance, and for a moment you found yourself slightly saddened at this.

“I am only saying the truth.” He replied. For a moment, you saw him tense, as if considering something. Instead, he nodded as he stared at you with an expression you couldn’t quite understand. You opened your mouth, considering asking him what he was thinking, but thought better of it.

You weren’t certain if you could handle the answer.

“Goodnight, Kuai Liang.”

“Goodnight.” You smiled at the quaint way he spoke your name, and waved him off. You watched him walk off before turning around and walking to the area where you would usually watch the sunrise.

The moon hung high in the sky now, basking you in the moonlight. Your eyes closed as you took in everything that happened recently. Your fingers tapped along the wooden railing, tracing along the grain. The cool breeze passed you by. You had a lot to think about.

part four

[demigods-posts]

Hi 👋👋

I dont typically send asks, and especially not without being anon. I am a mostly silent participant on tumblr and I have been for years. But I have to say something

It is so refreshing seeing big pro pjo posters able to criticize Riordan. I am not sure if this is just in my little corner of tumblr and maybe other people can tell me if it is the same for them but as far as I can see, you and lilislegacy are the big pjo posters on here. Is that just my dash? But I feel like mostly everyone in the tumblr fandom knows you guys, though I have known about you for longer. And when the book came out and I saw all the issues I fully expected everyone, especially you guys, throwing your full support behind the book and Riordan. So I cant tell you how happy I am that you are calling him out. The post you made today about not understanding why he is making Percy dumb again is so true! It’s not ok because self deprecation shouldnt be glorified. When he wrote Percy has a powerful hero, nobody was upset about it. Adult readers loved how much he had grown and kid readers looked up to him and found it exciting. In the last PJO book and in all Heroes of Olympus Riordan made Percy strong and heroic in addition to kind and funny, which made people happy. It made kids want to be like that. But now these kids are reading about him being so mean to himself. This is not okay! This should not be the example! Kids should not be reading that it’s ok for your friends and loved ones to treat you like an idiot. Riordan should be continuing to write about Percy growing up and maturing and becoming a good man who is content with who he is, not becoming more immature and more self deprecating and treated worse by his friends.

Sorry, I didnt mean to go off. But I just think its refreshing and brave how you are calling him out, no matter how much you have praised him and his books in the past. This fandom is dangerously loyal to him, and it quickly can become toxic and problematic when no one can criticize the author himself. So thank you for what you are doing. I admire it a lot and I hope you keep it up to some extent because we need it so bad

@lilislegacy if you want to add to this, feel free <3

Thank you so much for reaching out, and for being so kind! I hold the series in such high regard, so critiquing it makes me so nervous, especially since my blog is fairly well-known throughout the fandom. I really do love the series and I stand by the fact that there is so much good to come from the recent books, but with that comes some not-so-good. The consistent mockery of Percy's intelligence, the satirical characterization of Percy and Annabeth, and the seeming erasure of certain character and story arcs in the recent books are disappointing, and I enjoy having the space to express my opinion. While I have such love the series, I am open to having respectful discourse about Rick's recent writing choices, and I will engage in more in due time. Thank you again for your kind words and support!

[phantomarine]

Hey what were you trying to say in your “it gets good at page 1001” post

Was it more of a comment directed at yourself ( self degradation), is it satire about perfectionism,

Is it supposed to be inspirational for Beginners webcomic creators, or we’re you just in a bad mood?

More of a warning against self-sabotage, because I see it so much. Sometimes it's tied to perfectionism, sometimes it's the opposite - people surrendering to imperfection when they don't really have to.

Creator chat incoming. I'll put it under the deelybob for anyone who wants to read it 👇

I've been in the webcomic sphere for several years now and I've seen so many people introduce their comic with 'I know it's very long and not easy to read, and I won't be going back and changing anything about what I've already made - but please critique it so I can make the rest of the pages better and attract a bigger audience from now on.'

And that's a hard thing to respond to. If a reader can't get through all those existing pages without being confused or bored, then how can they get to the good stuff that lies past them?

So much of gaining an audience is about actively making it easy to 'fall into' a work. Without that easy entry point, it's always going to be an uphill battle to build an audience, no matter how good the later chapters get. There are outliers, but most webcomics won't be those outliers, especially with thousands of them available nowadays. Some people love the grind, but most people will jump to a new tab and try to find something less frustrating.

And webcomic creation is particularly cursed by its very nature. Creators are hesitant to go back and edit pages, even once they've figured out more details about their craft or story structure. It's mostly because of the seeming permanence of it all - the art takes ages and the words feel unchangeable if even one other person has read them. To go back and edit is to publicly admit your failings, right? That's how it feels. What do you MEAN you didn't get it right the first time? You were supposed to do it live, and do it PERFECTLY!

But ideally it shouldn't be any different than prose writing, which is ALL ABOUT finding the story in those edits. And because your story is digital, you can go back and change things whenever you feel like it. A webcomic is fluid.

And if you're thinking 'I should just redraw my whole first chapter' - NO! Hell no, old art can be a part of the appeal! It's far more about finding little tricks to convey your story/characters more clearly. I have read some first chapters with janky art that made me fall completely in love with the story and cast. It's not about the art - as with all things comic-related, it's about conveyance.

Examples I've seen and some I've used myself: A single extra page with a meaningful interaction can solidify the theme of a character's arc. One additional 5-to-10-page scene can help add visual context for an offscreen event where there was none before. Adding a map can tell people where the characters currently are. Changing a character design can help if they get often confused with another character. Redoing your lettering to make it more legible is a huge one too.

In the end, I just don't want people to be afraid of small edits. When I got feedback about the bad clarity of my own work, I knew it would take some time to fix those problems. It wasn't fun to think about or to do, but I'm glad I did it in the end - because it would have limited my audience tremendously. With just a bit of extra effort, I opened a door that wasn't there before, and it now leads more people even more easily to 'the good stuff.'

tl;dr You started your webcomic for a reason, and you're learning more things about its characters, story, and craft every day. Don't be afraid to go back to old pages and inject some of that wisdom through editing. Even a little can go a long way.

***Caveat: If your goal is to just create chaotically, with no goal of gaining an audience, you are a wild and free little thing, and I am in awe of you. This whole rant doesn't apply to you, and you are stronger than me.

[darlingofdots]

What is a romance novel, really?

So far, the response to this post has mostly shown me that a lot of people don't actually know what a romance novel is, and that's okay! I don't expect everyone to know! However, for my own peace of mind, I am going to do my best to explain what we mean when we talk about romance novels, where the genre comes from, and why you should not dismiss the pastel cartoon covers that are taking over the display tables at your nearest chain bookshop. Two disclaimers up front: I've been reading romance novels since I was a teenager, and have dedicated the majority of my academic career to them. I'm currently working on my PhD and have presented/published several papers about the genre; I know what I'm talking about! Secondly, all genres are fake. They're made up. But we use these terms and definitions in order to describe what we see and that's a very important part of science, including literary studies!

The most widely used definition of "romance novel" to this day is from Pamela Regis' 2003 A Natural History of the Romance Novel, in which she states that "A romance novel is a work of prose fiction that tells the story of the courtship and betrothal of one or more [protagonists]."* People also refer to the Romance Writers of America's "a central love story and an emotionally satisfying and optimistic ending" and another term you will see a lot is "Happily Ever After/Happy For Now," which posits that the protagonists must be in a committed and happy relationship at the end of the novel in order to count as a romance novel. That's it. That's what a romance novel is.

Of course it's a bit more complex than that; Regis also posited the Eight Essential Elements which describe the progression of the love plot over the course of the book, and there's a similar breakdown from Gwen Hayes in Romancing the Beat that is intended more as writing advice, but both of these are really useful for breaking down how this narrative structure works. My personal favourite part of the Eight Elements is that the romance opens with a definition of the society in which the protagonists exist, which is flawed in a way that oppresses them, and then the protagonists either overcome or fix it in a way that enables them to achieve their HEA. A lot of social commentary can happen this way!

It can also be a bit difficult to pin down what exactly counts as a "central love story" because who decides? A lot of stories have romance arcs in them, including dudebro action movies and noir mystery novels, but you would never argue that the romance is the central plot. A lot of romance novels have external plots like solving a mystery or saving the bakery. A useful question to ask in this case is whether the external plot exists for its own sake or to facilitate the romance: when Lydia runs off with Wickham in Pride & Prejudice, it's so that Lizzie can find out how much Darcy contributed to saving her family from scandal and realise her own feelings for him. The alien abduction in Ice Planet Barbarians happens specifically so the abducted human women can meet and fall in love with the hunky aliens. There are definitely grey areas here! Romance scholars argue about this all the time!

I have a suspicion that a lot of people who responded to the post I linked above are not actually romance readers, which is fine, but it really shows the lack of understanding of what a romance novel is. I have a secondary suspicion that the way we have been talking about books has contributed to this miscategorisation in a lot of people's minds, because especially with queer books we will often specifically point out that this fantasy book is f/f! This dystopian novel has a gay love story! This puts an emphasis on the romance elements that are present in a book when a lot of the time, the romance arc is just flavouring for the adventure/uprising/heist and we are pointing it out only because its queerness makes it stand out against other non-queer titles. It makes sense why we do this, but there is SUCH a difference between "a sci-fi book with an f/f romance arc" and "an f/f sci-fi romance." I could talk for hours about how the romance genre has evolved alongside and often in the same way as fanfiction and how there are codes and tropes that come up again and again that are immediately recognisable to romance readers, even down to phrases and cover design, and how romance is an incredibly versatile and diverse genre that functions in a very specific way because of that evolutionary process. The same way that dedicated fantasy readers can trace the genealogy of a given text's influences ("this writer definitely plays a lot of DnD which has its roots in the popularity of Tolkien, but they're deliberately subverting these tropes to critique the gender essentialism"), romance readers are often very aware of the building blocks and components of their books. These building blocks (that's what tropes are, lego pieces you put together to create a story!) often show up in other genres as well, especially as part of romantic arcs, but that doesn't make every book that features Only One Bed a romance novel, you know?

Romance is an incredibly versatile and diverse genre and I really highly recommend exploring it for yourself if you haven't. I personally read mostly Regency/Victorian historicals and I've been branching out into specifically f/f contemporaries, and there are so many authors who are using the romance framework to tell beautiful, hard-hitting stories about love and family while grappling with issues of discrimination, disability, mental health, capitalism, you name it. The genre has a very specific image in a lot of people's minds which makes them resistant to it and it's not entirely unjustified, but there is so much more to it than Bridgerton and repackaged Star Wars fanfiction!**

*the original text said "heroines" but Regis later revised this. There is a very good reason for the focus on the heroine in the first couple waves of romance scholarship, but that's a different post!

**neither of these are a bad thing and part of that genealogy that I mentioned earlier.

[acourtofthought]

@2ndsofseven is extremely clever.

This has nothing to do whether whether Lucien and Elain are mates:

We already knew they're mates, it's confirmed time and again. By Elain, by Mor, by Feyre when she slips into his mind.

Lucien already proved he knew what was wrong with Elain when he demanded they get her outside after officially meeting her the first time ever and she herself later said she needed sunshine. He proved he already knew how to help when she began drinking, sleeping, and eating after he did so.

Her powers were never something wrong with her or something amiss, nothing for him to find in her soul, they're simply her powers. A part of her that's now supposed to be there. Every single character knew Elain was talking in riddles, all Az did was name them and then Mor confirmed it. Only Lucien knew she needed to get outside to help pull her from her catatonic state. His not naming her power doesn't disprove their bond, mates don't suddenly have all the knowledge of the world simply because they're mated.

Sarah often writes lines that seem to be a discussion between two characters but are referencing other.

Take the Suriel. Feyre thought they were discussing Tamlin but their answer was later revealed to be referring to Rhys.

Or Ruhns prophecy. He thought it meant he'd die but it meant he'd destroy the royal line by killing the Autumn King.

Az's story of Nephellle was being discussed with Feyre but it ended up being meaningful for Elain's arc.

Just like Feysand discussing poorly matched bonds while talking of Elain and Lucien's bond is most likely not SJM telling us Elucien's bond will be poorly matched but someone else.

The above scene with the healer was providing us information about bonds unknown at that point. We know that Elain and Lucien are mates, there's no debating it. It's confirmed, it's scented, Mor used her truth on Lucien. In ACOWAR, however, Nessian's bond was not confirmed. Therefore when you get to this scene:

You realize Majda's words were foreshadowing for the Nessian bond.

When Sarah talks about how she likes careful, clever readers, it's her being excited when others pick up on clues (not something directly written in the text). Feyre saying "do you think Elain and Lucien match well" only for some to say "see?! It's proof Elucien aren't matched because Feyre specifically mentioned it" is not careful, clever reading. Az and Elain almost kissing and using it as proof of an e/riel endgame is not careful, clever reading. Those are examples of referencing the text directly as it applies to the exact scene in question. I think what Sarah means when she talks of careful, clever reading is picking up on things like the stars painted on Feyre's dresser and theorizing early on that she'd end up with Rhys. It's applying information learned at one point and connecting it to something elsewhere.

@2ndsofseven pulled off the sort of careful, clever reading when they realized that Majda's words were not there to make you question Elucien's bond (which has already been confirmed as being a legitimate bond) but to help you realize before SF that Nesta and Cassian were going to be mates.

Not everything in these books is about Elain and Az, information learned is meant to also be applied to the other characters in the series.