#this is so long i'm sorry lol

[kowaindar0u]

(diary meme ehek) 13 Yuichi (either Nagasone, Kashuu or Saseki ehek), 7 Hachisuka! (@zantedeschia-praesul)

[ DEAR  DIARY          .    .    . ]

i'm a gemini you can't just give me 3 choices and expect me to pick hehe. so have them all !!!!!!! (really i just love doing these diaries so i'm taking all them i can get rrrrrraaaaaa)

13.     entry made featuring mention of (sender’s) muse. (Yuichi -> Nagasone)

Ohhh, dearest diary. You are going to feel so special, aren't you? Because you've known for so long about Nagasone and I, longer than perhaps anyone else-- except maybe Kashuu. Don't be getting jealous, though!

But... we've finally decided to let it be known by the rest of the honmaru, and... Well I think a lot of the men already had some kind of idea. Kogitsunemaru definitely knew, though he's gracious enough to wait until we were ready before he said anything (some very kind words, naturally). I think Murakumo got the hint simply for how much time he spends in my office some days. Hachisuka probably figured it out pretty quickly, though he hasn't said anything to me, and Nagasone hasn't mentioned anything from him. Urashima I think was somehow still unaware. Perhaps he's just too pure for this world.

"I don't know why I was so nervous about it." I know I say this all the time, but it never seems to stop being relevant. I was worried others would be unhappy about it, or that they might think I play favorites-- clearly this is different, right? Right.

Worst of all, the thought crossed my mind that... perhaps after it stopped being such a secret, Nagasone might lose interest, or look at me differently, or something. I don't have this worry anymore, but I can't stop thinking ABOUT the fact that I thought that might happen. I feel awful for even barely entertaining the thought. Nagasone had never given me any reason to believe that, and on the contrary, he only ever gives me hundreds more to KNOW for certain that it wouldn't happen. It's... amazing, really, how he can do so much to make me feel so good, and happy, and just... like everything's okay... But I still find a way to think there's a chance that I don't deserve it.

Nagasone would hate to hear that from me, I know it. And he doesn't deserve that, either.

Which is why I tell you, of course. But you probably could already guess that, huh.

Well... Whether I deserve it or not... I love him. So much. I'd be a goner without him.

So, diary, I hope you're happy for us too.

13.     entry made featuring mention of (sender’s) muse. (Yuichi -> Kashuu)

Dear Diary.

This still feels like some kind of fucked-up dream. But... up until now, through all of this... recovering, monitoring, assessing, training, learning, trying to come to terms with the fact that apparently magic and sword-men and time travel is all real... It's been like I'm just walking through it in a confused, numb daze. It didn't really matter. For all I knew, I could've been dead and this was my afterlife.

But... not anymore.

I summoned my first touken danshi. Kashuu Kiyomitsu, he's called. One of two trusty swords of Shinsengumi first unit captain, famed Okita Souji.

The summoning itself was... excruciating, but amazing. I don't know how I did it. But... I haven't FELT this much emotion, felt anything in this intensity but despair and loneliness in... I don't know when, or if I have.

Maybe I was scared. This whole Government thing is intimidating. Maybe I was just afraid that if I didn't give it my all, they'd... I dunno, kick me to whatever the afterlife equivalent of a curb is. Or send me to hell.

Maybe I just wanted it to be real so badly that I managed to tap into that... pathetic, desperate wish for a connection with someone, a friend, that I could have a chance not to isolate myself or squander it, and...

And he appeared. Kashuu Kiyomitsu.

I thought perhaps the fact I was crying might freak out a new person-- a literally NEW person, right? But it seems... there really is a connection between us. They told us this would be the case with the swords we summoned, but... I guess I couldn't believe it until I felt it myself.

I hugged Kashuu Kiyomitsu and... it just made everything real. Real, and scary, and overwhelming, but... if this is my second chance at life, I'm going to take it. As long as he's there with me... I think I'll be okay.

Kashuu Kiyomitsu... Thank you.

13.     entry made featuring mention of (sender’s) muse. (Yuichi -> Saseki)

Ah, diary...

I'm sitting at my desk... I should be working, but... I just can't help but stare at the magical painting Saseki gifted me, and think about him. I appreciate Nagisa a great deal, and of course owe my life to her and her men, but I don't know that I was in such a state of mind to have formed a bond with her. Not to mention there was a lot that she couldn't tell me, since the Government had yet to make a call on what to do with me.

But Saseki... what can I say? He's become one of my best friends, almost like a brother, perhaps. He's so insistent that he be able to protect me or help me if I'd ever need it, even after he's been through so much himself... I'm so grateful to him, and this honmaru is lucky to have such an ally, of course.

But letting my thoughts drift... one question my mind asked, I can't help but think about: "Where were you before, in my old life?"

I had ... friends, before. I guess. But I had such trouble trying to interact with them for some reason and opted to just... keep to myself. I didn't feel truly comfortable with anyone.

But... I don't know. I don't want to change where I am now. I would never give this up for even a moment, not over my dead body and then some. But I can't help but wonder, what IF I had known Saseki? Sometimes I think about this with my touken danshi as well, but it feels more of a fantasy that way, about maybe taking them around a modern city and whatnot. But with Saseki... he's a human. In theory, it's not impossible for us to have crossed paths, and ... I just think... maybe if we had...

No, no. This sounds like I'm blaming Saseki. It's not that. It's just... What I mean is... I'm just so grateful to have him. And I know now the impact one person can have on the trajectory of history in a given timeline. On the off chance I would have allowed myself to befriend him like this back then, or in a different timeline... maybe things wouldn't have been quite so unbearable. Maybe there's a version of me who had someone like him like I wished I had. And that's what's really got me right now.

[there's some smudges where seemingly a couple of drops were hastily brushed off the page]

Well. It's really neither here nor there, isn't it. What matters most is that we both got to where we are and are friends today, right? Right.

07.     entry made featuring an important moment in their life. (Hachisuka)

Dear Diary.

It was... a beautiful day. Well. It was... a fine enough day. Until the rain and winds picked up, and thunder crashed, rattling the doors and windows...

And HE appeared.

Nagasone 'Kotetsu'.

It may be unbecoming of me, but I'm seething. A counterfeit, a fake, an imitation, using something as prestigious as the Kotetsu name? Here, in my citadel? In my room? My master is testing me, truly.

He seems to not even be bothered by the fact that he bears a name that doesn't suit him, that he couldn't possibly live up to... right? He's just so... amicable, and seems quite happy to be here.

I told him: I may be obligated to share my room with you--for now. But know this. You are NOT a true Kotetsu, and you are NOT my brother. Do not expect me to treat you as such.

I don't know what I expected from him.

It's ridiculous, preposterous.

I...

It seems I lost my train of thought. No matter. I'm being called out for dispatch anyway. This isn't the last you'll hear on this regard, mark my word.

[cutieodonoghue]

the first bloom tradition

summary: [mandomera week day 2: secrets]  an in-universe au based on my favorite line of Jane Austen dialogue, “If I loved you less, I might be able to talk about it more.” or:

Din is blind to the incredibly desperate singles in the small Sorgan village, and is equally as clueless where it comes to their courtship traditions - secret feelings abound!

word count: ~9600

rating: g, but there is some kissing and a scene with blood and injuries

read it on ao3 or below!

-

i.

At first, the Mandalorian’s visits were few and far between. He would come to the village for short bursts of time and be off again, as if he needed the time away from the galaxy and all of its burdens to refuel and recharge. 

Nobody in the village minded. He was a welcomed guest, honored by all of them for his help and wisdom. 

They were so grateful, in fact, that when he mentioned he might stop by more frequently, they built him his own home amongst theirs on the ponds and surprised him with it when he and his boy- Grogu, his name was- returned one bright morning just before the harvest.

For several months, their visits were almost weekly. They would rarely go more than a handful of days without seeing the pair, and when they arrived it was always cause for happy celebration.

Omera quickly grew used to visiting the boys when they came into the village as if it were just another daily occurrence, so natural that she could have lost sight of how special it truly was that the Mandalorian had decided to call their little farming village his second home.

He took part in their successes as much as he took part in their failings. He helped them during the harvest and was an asset when it came time to deliver their goods to their source of distribution. 

He was there for their holidays and celebrations. He knew to expect twilight feasts and firelight dances. His boy loved to dance with the children around the fire and ate just as much as any of the rest did, even though his dietary choices were often questionable. 

At the beginning, the Mandalorian seemed to protect himself more, as if he wasn’t sure he could trust them with the inner workings of his heart, but over time, Omera had learned so much about him. He was a friend. A good friend- maybe even a best friend. 

She’d learned the Mandalorian’s name- Din Djarin- and she also learned his laugh. It was a gift any time he granted them the sound of joy that came from deep within. She knew many of his likes and dislikes. She could read him much better, too. His body language at first had been so stiff and difficult to truly see beyond, but she’d learned its nuances well over time.

Around the village, there was often gossip that the Mandalorian had taken interest in them for some reason. They would tease that he had grown fond of Sorgan, or maybe he was interested in someone. 

Omera knew they gossiped that she was the object of his affection. She’d seen their knowing looks and teasing glances, playful smiles that teased while she interacted politely with the man. 

He liked to spend time with her, it was true, but they were nothing more than friends.

All she knew was that Din Djarin was a good man, and he’d decided that the village was a good place to call his home. She refused to get sucked into the rumors or gossip- refused to lend any fuel to the flames. 

If the Mandalorian’s true purpose behind his choice to return so often was anything but to give his boy a quiet place with familiar faces and friends, she would wait until she heard him say so.

Others in the village were absolutely enamored and besotted with the Mandalorian. They weren’t shy about their interest in the man, going so far as to talk about it fervently both when Din was around the village and when he was away. 

Omera wasn’t one to keep track, but she knew there were at least four eligible singles in the village who’d come to her at one point or another with wistful sighs and teeth that dug into lower lips as they gushed about something they’d seen him do or heard him say.

It was to the point of ridiculous, she thought, that so many in the village would have eyes for him while they all knew he was simply a friend- just another member of their community who happened to be the slightest bit different.

The Mandalorian had never removed his armor. None of them knew what his face looked like. His actions spoke loudly, and apparently, his broad-shouldered physique did too. 

Amidst all of the gossip, and all of the yearning, Omera knew she wasn’t one to judge any of it. 

She had a terrible secret. She was hesitant to even think about it in the privacy and safety of her own mind, but there were many nights she lay awake with a heavy heart- and she knew she, too, was in love with Din Djarin, the Mandalorian who treated their village as his second home.

It was something so difficult to balance when she knew in her mind that they were friends, that he came to Sorgan for rest and time away from the rest of the galaxy. He didn’t deserve to be treated as any sort of object, ogled from afar with desperation as if he would one day decide to make his feelings for any of them made known and end all of the uncertainty.

So, she hid her feelings as deep as they would go, an act of protection against the pain she might one day cause herself if the Mandalorian did, in fact, want to pursue anyone either in the village or in his travels abroad. It was his life, and he was free to live it as he pleased. She would be happy for him no matter what he did.

He’d returned in time for one of Omera’s favorite days: the time that immediately followed a full and hearty season of farming. There was nothing better than the feeling of knowing they had been successful at work and that they could all breathe a little easier in the days ahead.

The night air felt cool to her skin, but the fires were warm where they’d built them around the middle of the village. They liked to celebrate as a community with long nights gathered together in song and dance, with shared meals and a recital by the kids.

Naturally, she felt inclined to serve everyone, and made her way around the party with food and drink. Among the laughter and song, she exchanged happy salutations with those she loved, the members of the community she’d raised her daughter in. 

It was a beautiful night, under a clear sky, and there was nothing but joy that floated straight up into the stars. 

Omera caught the eye line of the Mandalorian where he watched the celebrations, his back pressed to the nearest building. He was on his own, just far enough from the party that he could look on and enjoy it in his own way. His posture was comfortable, one leg over the other while his arms were folded to his chest.

She smiled at him softly and wondered what he’d say if she approached him with a cup of something to drink. She was met with a nod from the man in beskar armor, an almost summoning tick of his head backward.

With a deep breath in, she excused herself from the company she’d found herself mingling with and made her way across the grassy path to where he stood on one of the porches nearby. 

At her approach, he dropped his folded arms and instead put one hand on his belt so he could gesture with the other toward the gathering.

“The harvest must have been good,” he determined. “I’m sorry I wasn’t here to help this time. I got caught up with something else.”

Omera shook her head. “That’s alright. You were helpful in other ways this season. This party is just as much for you as it is for the rest of us.”

The Mandalorian was quiet. The dark visor of his helmet remained steadfastly focused on her and his posture remained unchanged. He was at a party full of all of their friends, but he hadn’t said a word to anyone but her.

Omera’s gaze shifted, nervous, and she looked instead at where Winta had seemingly brought Grogu to play with the rest of the kids. It seemed they were having fun playing a game of tag, giggling when the young Jedi hopped long distances to catch up with them.

A smile filled her face. She loved seeing Grogu grow and change over time. It was just as fulfilling as watching her own daughter grow and change.

“How long do you think you’ll stay this time?”

“Maybe a few days.”

“Well...” Omera looked at him once more and kept a pleasant smile on her face. “I’m glad you’re here. Let me know if you need anything.”

He nodded. “I will.” His throat cleared. “I was hoping we could… go for a walk again. Tomorrow morning, maybe?”

Her heart leapt in eager surprise. They often spent time talking in the mornings while on walks, something that just happened once and became a nice habit to keep. She was always happy to talk to him, to learn more about who he was, and give him a place he could vent.

“Sure,” she agreed warmly. “That sounds great, Din.”

She slipped away, back into the gathering of happily noisy and cheerful partygoers, and found that she was instantly desperately wanted by a few of her closest friends. They waved her over frantically and she saw their playful teasing in their eyes, sparks of light in their irises that reflected the bubbling-over hushed gossip she knew was about to occur.

Wren, Phoebe, and Alyx were all woefully single, and no matter how many house calls they received from their eligible friends and neighbors, they would always- always - have something to say about Din Djarin. He’d seized their attention and affections without having made any effort to do such a thing.

“Omera,” Wren giggled. “He’s still staring at you.”

Omera shook her head, laughing under her breath. “He’s allowed to stare at whomever he pleases. It doesn’t mean anything.”

Alyx guffawed into her cup of spotchka. “You keep pretending you don’t have a thing even though we all know you do. Spare us the niceties.”

Phoebe’s arm draped around her shoulder when she opened her mouth to argue Alyx’s half-drunken loose lipped snark.

“Just because he’s here and he’s staring doesn’t mean anything, Alyx,” Phoebe sighed. “I know half of the village singles would love it if he suddenly proved me wrong, but I think he’s happy as he is. Sometimes people don’t get married and that’s-”

“Okay,” Alyx cut her off with a frown, “Phoebe, I think you’re selling it a little short. I mean, he’s here weekly and nobody really knows why. All we do know is-”

“We’re all in love with him,” Wren pouted, eyeing the Mandalorian from afar. “Which is so unfair.”

“Completely,” Alyx agreed before she downed her drink.

“Utterly,” Phoebe sighed. 

All of them laughed, coerced by the lightheartedness of the evening and the warm tickle of alcohol in their bellies. 

Omera could only shake her head. She didn’t like the gossip and her friends knew it, yet they always dragged her into it anyway.

Phoebe released Omera and said wistfully, “One of these days, he’ll whisk you and Winta away and you won’t ever come back. Which, by the way, I am all for.”

“Mm,” Alyx hummed, brow furrowed deeply. “I mean, unless someone else is able to woo him first. But I doubt it.”

“How would you even do it?” Wren wondered, nibbling on her lip. “He’s so difficult to read. When I talk to him, it’s always just one or two word replies… it feels hopeless.”

Alyx smirked as she lifted her cup to her lips. “There’s nothing wrong with a man who keeps it simple and to the point. That’s husband material if you ask me.”

“He talks to me,” Omera confessed, to no one’s surprise. “Maybe… I can pass on a good word about you to him. See if he’d be interested.”

Alyx lifted a single eyebrow skyward. “You’d do that?”

She shrugged, laughing. “I said maybe. It would have to feel right. I don’t get the feeling that he comes here because he’s looking for untoward attention.”

“Right,” Phoebe jabbed her playfully in the side with her elbow. “Just yours.”

Omera rolled her eyes. “He’s my friend. Just like he’s friends with everyone else here. He’s easy to talk to. You know that to be true. Don’t you?”

Wren shook her head and smiled knowingly at Omera. “You are the closest one to him out of all of us. The only reason we agreed to build him a house was because you were so adamant that it would be the right thing to do.”

“It was,” she argued, shaking her head. “He’s here all the time. It only makes sense. Everyone else agreed. It wasn’t me that made us build him a house.”

Alyx poured them each a fresh cup of spotchka. “How about this? A week’s supper to the first of us who can get an answer out of him whether or not he’s single- and if he is, laundry duties relieved for a month to the first of us who can get him to award you a first bloom.”

Phoebe scoffed. “He won’t give anyone a first bloom. He won’t understand it.”

“If Caben and Stoke can understand a first bloom, the Mandalorian will have no issue,” Alyx argued lightly. She eyed them each wryly. “So? Anyone game?”

Omera shook her head. “We shouldn’t. It will only end in heartbreak when his answer is just like Phoebe was saying before. Sometimes people don’t want to be married, or in a relationship, and that’s alright.”

Wren, having fallen quiet, stared beyond Omera at the Mandalorian. She took a sip of her spotchka and gave them a firm nod. 

“I’m game.”

And then, Wren was off. 

Omera watched the petite dark-haired woman, whose shoulders were tightly squared, make her way across the grassy paths toward the place where the Mandalorian waited all on his own. 

He seemed to catch onto the fact that Wren was on her way to see him. His posture changed, straightening out while he reached for something he kept at a bag by his side. He removed a trinket, something too small to see in the dark.

Wren approached him, her smile bright and sweet. The woman was about Omera’s age, but her heart was youthful. She nervously greeted him with a blush in her cheeks and Omera could practically hear her awkward ramblings from across the gathering.

“Oh, kriff,” Alyx muttered. “She’s much better suited for someone like Seamus. I don’t think she could handle-”

Alyx stopped talking when the Mandalorian extended the trinket outward to Wren, whose eyes grew wide as she graciously took it from him with thanks. She examined it in her hand before clutching her hands against her chest.

Omera turned away, not wanting to be caught staring. She nudged Phoebe and Alyx.

“Let her have a friend,” Omera reminded them kindly. “If she wants to tell us what happened, she will. Later.” She gestured one hand toward the fire, where a few of the musicians had begun to play. “Let’s dance. We’ve earned a night where we can forget our troubles, haven’t we?”

Gratefully, her friends both agreed, and they were led to the fire, where they each adorned themselves with beautiful flower crowns made by a few of the kids. They danced the evening away, laughing and teasing like they were young, and when they got tired, they sat together by the warmth of the flames, chatting about their usual day-to-day.

Omera found herself looking beyond the fire, to where Wren had disappeared long ago, and found that she remained at the Mandalorian’s side. Both of them were engaged in hearty conversation and Wren seemed happy, her cheeks full and eyes bright. 

Maybe she was wrong about Din. Maybe he came to Sorgan for connections he lacked, but maybe it was something more than that.

Her chest ached with a soft twinge of jealousy and sorrow, but she ignored it. She’d promised herself she wouldn’t allow her secret feelings for the Mandalorian to interfere with her friendships- and she wouldn’t.

She saw Seamus approach Wren from behind with a nervous little smile on his lips as he nodded at the Mandalorian, and then at Wren. He said something, a rambling sort of greeting if the laughter that came from Wren’s lips was an indication, while the Mandalorian gestured out toward the fire.

Wren and Seamus both walked away from the Mandalorian after they awarded him a polite wave. Then, Din’s hand settled on his belt as his gaze scanned the party, a constant motion until he settled on Omera.

At the meeting of their gazes, she instantly looked away, to Phoebe at her side, and tried to shake the way her heart begged her to go back to Din and speak with him again. Maybe she could learn where he and Grogu had been, or maybe they’d talk about how he was handling the latest journey his life had directed him toward.

“Finally, she let him go,” Alyx blurted out as she stood up. “I’ll get us an answer before the end of the night.”

Omera watched her friend cautiously, then met Din’s eyes again. He hadn’t looked away from her. Even with Alyx on approach, he didn’t seem to care to budge.

Phoebe’s hand settled on Omera’s arm and drew her attention. “I know you don’t like to talk about it, but you know you can tell me if you ever have feelings for someone, right?”

Omera flushed. Had she been so obvious? 

“I know,” she managed a smile. “I don’t have any feelings for anyone, though, so-”

Her friend laughed under her breath. “I think the spotchka might be dulling the secret you’ve been hiding. You keep looking at him.”

Omera sighed. “It just isn’t going to work. Is it? For any of us.”

She thought back to that day, where he’d stood with her and asked that she take care of Grogu. His hands had been gentle but firm where he placed them on hers, and she’d felt an overwhelming sense of sorrow fill her when she realized that he didn’t want to stay.

He didn’t want to stay. He didn’t want to choose any of them. That was why he kept visiting, but never for very long.

Phoebe’s expression was soft and understanding. “Leave that to him to decide, Omera. If there’s someone here he cares for… he’ll fight just as hard as he did that night with the raiders.”

Before anything else could be said, a weary sigh accompanied Alyx’s return.

“Well… I got two words out before we were interrupted, so… no supper or laundry for me. Maybe tomorrow.”

-

In the morning, under the sunlight of a new day, Omera found the Mandalorian outside his home. He paced in a straight line, back and forth, as if he had something on his mind. His fingers flexed at his sides with his back turned to her and when he pivoted on his heel, his movement stopped at the sight of her.

She smiled softly as she drew closer. “I hope I’m not interrupting.”

“No.” He shook his head and took a generous step away from the house. “I was thinking about something. Sorry.” 

Omera hummed as she eyed him warily. Her fingers brushed against the fabric of her dress against her side and she glimpsed outward, away from the village, where they usually took their morning walks. 

She was unsure of how the morning’s talk would go, considering the way things went the night before. He’d spent much of the night with Wren and when it came time for Grogu to be put to bed, he completely disappeared. It soured the mood of her friends, who all wanted to get an answer out of him, but it was certainly for the best that they not smother him.

“Well, would you like to walk?”

The Mandalorian gave her a firm nod and took the lead away from the village, staying at her side with even strides. 

They both were quiet for longer than usual, which prompted Omera to think far too much about the sounds of the forest in the early morning as if the man she walked with weren’t there.

“What do you think of Wren?”

His question came out of nowhere and made her quickly turn her attention onto him, her heart racing just a little bit faster.

“She’s… sweet,” Omera smiled. “She’s always been kind to me and Winta. Why do you ask?”

Din was quiet again for a few seconds. “She asked me last night if I knew about the first bloom tradition.”

Omera quickly looked away from the Mandalorian, instead opting to gaze upward at the trees overhead. “Oh?”

“I told her I did, but I don’t,” he admitted. “I think she thought…” His sigh was heavy. “I don’t know what she thought.”

She smiled slightly and kept her hands against her front as she carefully pondered her response.

“There is a flower that blooms down by the river,” she told him. “It’s blue petaled, with golden leaves. When it is picked, it retains its colors forever. But, if left on its own, the flower will wither the day that it blooms and a new seed is planted in its place.” 

Her eyes fell back onto Din and she found his focus was on her, riveted to what she had to tell him.

“It’s a tradition in the village to pick just one of the flowers and give it to the one you can see a future with.” Omera paused, nodding at him carefully. “And, traditionally, it is something done to mark the beginning of a relationship.”

“She wants to give me a first bloom.”

Omera shrugged. “Or she wants you to give one to her.”

The silence that sat between them felt heavy. 

She couldn’t look at him as he contemplated the gravity of the conversation he’d shared with her. It felt wrong to assume anything of the man she’d grown close with, whether it meant he had feelings for someone or didn’t have them at all.

When it seemed he had nothing left to say, she gathered barely enough courage to ask, “Are you… interested in someone here?”

Again, she couldn’t look at him. She didn’t want him to feel suffocated, as if he had to give an answer, but she could feel his gaze on her regardless.

“I only ask because you come so often,” she quickly added, daring a glimpse in his direction to confirm her suspicion- he was looking at her. Her heart raced. “I know it’s a nice place to raise a child, but you always tell stories about places you’ve seen and fights you’ve had…” Her thought came to an end and she sighed. “Shouldn’t Grogu be raised in a place with other Mandalorians? He’s Mandalorian like you are.”

Din slowed to a stop, which drew her to the same conclusive pause in their walk. 

“I come here because it’s quiet,” he told her, which was no surprise. He’d shared as much with her many times before. “Out there it’s… loud.” He shifted his hand against the beskar on his wrist and she noticed the line of his visor shift away from her. “The kid needs time to be a kid. For a long time, I didn’t know how to give that to him. But here… he can be.”

Omera nodded. “Are there other Mandalorian children?”

His eyes met hers. “Are you trying to tell me to leave?”

“No,” she blurted out with a swift shake of her head. “I’m just trying to understand why you would choose us over a life with others of your kind. If you like it here, you’re welcome to stay as long as you want.” She exhaled softly. “We just must seem so small… our little village, with our humble means of living… in a galaxy so vast, there are so many other choices.”

Omera watched the Mandalorian carefully. He didn’t have an answer for her question- or he didn’t want to give one- and instead, he shook his head.

“There is strength and honor in community.”

They continued to walk, and as they did, she dwelled on what he’d told her. He respected them in their humble means. He saw himself as one of them, perhaps, and took offense to the idea that they might be seen as small.

Omera took a deep breath of the crisp morning air and focused her attention on the path ahead of them.

“You didn’t answer my question before,” she told him. “Are you interested in someone here?”

Din’s silence was just as heavy as before. “If I said I was, would it matter?”

Her heart jumped against her ribcage. “Well… if you were interested in someone, I could help you, if you wanted help. The first bloom isn’t the only courtship tradition we have.”

She looked at him, finally, and saw his eyes were on her.

“Are Mandalorians allowed to fall in love?” she asked, feeling more bold. 

“Yes.”

Her gaze fell to the floor of the forest and she carefully stepped over a fallen branch in the path ahead of them. 

“Have you ever been in love?”

He was quiet again. Then, a soft response came gentler than any word he’d ever said to her, “Yes.”

She wondered again if she was wrong about him- about why he came to Sorgan as much as he did. Was there a bigger reason? Was it unfair for her to assume so much about him?

Maybe he was in love with someone beyond Sorgan. Maybe it had been a long time ago. Maybe there was, in fact, someone in the village that he had a secret romance with. 

Although the uncertainty made her chest ache with grief and a desire to know more, she knew it wasn’t any of her business what Din shared with her. Until he decided it was time for her to know about the inner workings of his heart and life, she wouldn’t pry or poke. She would just be there for him, on their morning walks through the forest, or however else he needed her to be.

Both of them were quiet for the remainder of the walk, which certainly hadn’t been the intention when Din asked her to join him the night before, but it just was, and that was alright. 

Hopefully, there would be more walks and more chances to speak. Maybe he’d unburden himself with conversation when he was more comfortable.

When they arrived back in the village, they both returned to the stoop of his home, where Grogu sat waiting.

Omera smiled happily at the boy. “Hi, Grogu. Are you happy to be back?”

The child grinned at her. He wasn’t much for words, not yet at least, but she knew that they were hard at work on it. Din had confessed that Grogu tried to say Papa a few weeks ago, but he’d yet to fully commit to the word, as simple as it was.

“I hope you don’t mind me taking your papa for a walk,” she said lightly, glimpsing at the man as she sat beside the boy on the stoop. “Did you have a good night of rest?”

Grogu tilted his head at her and held out a single hand, touching it to hers when she offered it to him. The action was sweet and was accompanied by a gentle coo.

“He likes you,” Din confessed. He stood in front of them both. “When I set the nav to come here, he always tries to say your name.”

Omera’s heart squeezed tight, overcome with love for the small boy.

“Oh, Grogu.” She beamed at him. “You’re very loved by everyone here. I hope you know that.”

Grogu’s contentment came with a soft nod and his little fingers squeezed on hers. Then, he was off, hopping off of the stoop to smother his father, who chuckled under his breath in surprise when Grogu pounced into his awaiting arm.

“Okay, kid,” he murmured. “Let’s get you something to eat.” He tilted his head toward Omera. “Would you like to join us?”

She stood, her heart fully at peace once again. “I’d love that. Let’s go get Winta first.”

-

Omera had both hands buried in a barrel of krill when she heard the news. It came to her, as news often did, by flittering gasps and whispers that filled the air before someone with a clear head came to her side and broke it.

Phoebe was the one to find her, her eyes bright and wide. “Omera, the Mandalorian gave Wren a first bloom.”

In surprise, she froze. She couldn’t help the way her heart sank, or how quickly her thoughts were to dismiss the action as some sort of mistake. 

“He did?”

Phoebe laughed. “Yes. I saw. He was just coming back from the river and he ran into her.” 

Omera pulled her hands out of the barrel and yanked the long gloves off of her arms so she could go see if it was, in fact, true. 

“Did you hear anything they said?”

Phoebe shook her head. “No, I just saw him run into her, and then she took it. Obviously, she was thrilled. In only the way Wren can be.”

Omera walked alongside Phoebe toward the place where Phoebe had left Wren, at the barn where she and the Mandalorian both stood in conversation. Wren had the flower in between her thumb and forefinger, twirling it, while the Mandalorian said something to her in a quiet tone.

When she and Phoebe approached, the Mandalorian immediately became quiet and his attention lifted to them. And then, he walked away, moving fast as if he had somewhere he needed to go.

“What happened?” Phoebe asked Wren while Omera watched Din.

He found Grogu and carried him away from the kids gathered beside the barn before he suddenly took off with the jetpack on his back. It was the most dramatic scene she’d witnessed since the fight against the raiders.

As she watched him go, her heart squeezed with yearning. She hated to see him leave, especially with no preparation. 

“I’m not sure,” Wren confessed with a worried crinkle in her brow. “We accidentally bumped into each other and he had this in his hand… and then he just gave it to me before he told me he had to go.”

Omera looked at her friends once more. “Do you know where he’s going?”

Wren shrugged. “I don’t even know if this is for me, or if…”

“It’s for you,” Phoebe told Wren. “Why would he just hand it to you if he didn’t want you to have it?”

“I don’t know…” Wren hesitated. A smile found her lips. She held the flower to her nose. “I’ve always dreamed I’d get one. Maybe I’ll just… keep it until he returns.”

-

ii.

The Mandalorian hadn’t returned to the village in a long time.

People around the village gossiped that he was gone because he gave Wren a first bloom, that he realized the mistake he’d made and would never return. Others argued that it was just the way of the Mandalorian- he was there one day and gone the next on a consistent basis. They knew not to expect anything more.

But what was truly the most confusing part of his disappearance was how long it continued to go onward. Days turned into weeks, weeks into months, and soon, tidying up Din and Grogu’s home became the only true connection they had to the missing parts of their community.

Wren wandered the village every evening until dark holding her first bloom, praying to the stars above, that he’d come back. To compensate her for her sudden loss, their close circle of friends awarded her a relief of laundry duties and meals for a month, as was promised that night at the harvest celebration.

Omera felt for Wren. She had been so happy to have been given the first bloom, once the confusion was swept aside by Alyx and Phoebe’s insistence that the Mandalorian would never have given her the bloom unless he meant to. But there was doubt in Omera’s mind that it was his intention to give Wren the flower. It sounded like she’d surprised him. Maybe he’d been embarrassed, or caught off guard, and maybe Wren had been excited to see him holding it in his hand, so it was exchanged without pure reason.

Even still, she was happy for Wren, and happy for Din- even if he had fled Sorgan the moment he passed the first bloom over to his presumed beloved.

Covered in darkness that was a comfort in the equally as dark feelings that shrouded her lovesick heart, Omera sat by the river all alone with her eyes on the stars above. 

His presence came as a surprise. She hadn’t heard him approach- nobody had noticed his ship on approach, either. At least, nobody mentioned it if they did notice.

“Hi.”

She turned, eyes widening at the sound of his deep, modulated voice, and immediately scrambled so she stood by the riverside.

Din stood with Grogu in his arms, the boy holding his fingers while his little lips parted with an adorable coo.

All she could think about was how glad she was that he’d come back and that they were both alright. She’d spent so much time worried that something had happened- that she would never see them again.

She smiled, laughter spilling out of her as she approached the pair. She hadn’t realized how much she’d missed them. It almost felt like it did the first few times he came to visit again, those days spent wondering and wishing for his return met with the most joyful reunion. 

“You’re back,” she blurted out, the most obvious fact, as she slowed to a stop in front of him. “Are you okay? You were gone for so long… we’ve all been worried.”

Din held Grogu closer. The boy smiled at her and she reached out to soothe the place between his ears. 

“There was a pretty big fight. I…”

It was difficult to see in the dimness of the night, lit only by a small lantern she’d left behind where she’d once sat. With care, she surveyed his figure and saw that some of the beskar armor he usually wore had disappeared, and when he spoke she could hear a strain in his voice.

“I parked the ship just over there, in the clearing,” he told her. “I could use some help-”

“Oh, of course,” she quickly agreed. “What happened? Where are you hurt?”

He grunted as he drew his hand toward his right side. “Here. Hit my head pretty hard, too…”

Omera quickly went to grab her lantern from the ground and returned to the Mandalorian, unsure of if she should touch him or not. 

“Do you want me to hold him?”

His silent agreement came when he passed his boy to her. She heard him struggle. His breath hitched as he grunted and groaned. 

“I did what I could to patch myself up,” he shared, “but I couldn’t reach all of it. The kid… he tried to help, but he’d already done so much. I couldn’t…” His voice cracked when he struggled to take a breath. “Couldn’t ask him to do anything more.”

Omera hushed him gently as she touched a hand to his shoulder. 

“It’s okay. We’ll get a look at it when we get to your ship and I’ll do what I can. We might be better off bringing you back to the-”

“No,” he cut her off. “I can’t go back right now. Just you.”

She wasn’t sure if she should be flattered by his insistence that she be the only one to see him in this state. There was more room to operate back at the village, and Wren was there… maybe the Mandalorian just didn’t want questions right away.

It took them a little while to make it back to his ship, and when they arrived, he gestured to the cockpit, “The kit’s in there.”

Omera climbed into the cockpit of the N-1 starfighter, a ship she’d watched him slowly grow fond of, to grab the pack and left Grogu on the seat with a gentle instruction to stay put while she helped Din. 

After she hopped down, she helped the Mandalorian strip off the rest of his armor. It was discarded into a neat pile off to the side, and while she attended to the final piece, she heard him slip his flight suit down until it was halfway removed. There was a shirt beneath that he slipped off just in time for her to look and she found herself gazing at his bare skin, bruised and battered from the fight he’d seen.

She heard his grunt when he tossed the shirt to the side, like it took enormous amounts of effort to do such a thing. It was clear that whatever had happened to him during the fight had pierced his lung. There was blood on his side, but a lot of it was clotted.

Gently, she approached him, her fingers careful when she dared to touch his skin. He jumped a little, a reflex, and she felt his body begin to tremble beneath her examining fingertips.

It occurred to her as she began to walk around his body that Din probably hadn’t removed his clothing in front of someone else before. She knew he’d removed his helmet. She knew he’d taken his armor off. He’d told her about his efforts at saving Grogu from the Empire and of the hardships that followed. To be wholly exposed in this way was an intimacy she wondered if he’d ever experienced before.

There was a wound in his lower back, a deep cut, and she grimaced when she saw it, but she knew what she would need to do to make it right. 

As she worked, she explained carefully what she did so he would feel more comfortable. He only responded with trembling whispers of, “Okay,” or “Alright.”

“Everyone will be so glad you’re back,” she told him as she cleaned his tender skin. Her duty as a friend came to mind, despite the fact that she selfishly wished she could keep the Mandalorian all to herself now that he had allowed her this type of rare closeness. “Especially Wren. She’s been anxious to see you again.”

“Is she mad at me?”

“No,” she assured him as she finished cleaning his back. “She was a little confused at first, but she’s not mad.”

Omera stepped around the man and faced him. He nodded in understanding.

“I… think I need you to look at my head, too,” he confessed with the smallest hesitation. “My helmet was knocked off.”

Her heart leapt and her eyes grew wide. “Are you sure? You told me you didn’t like to-”

Before she could voice her concerns, the Mandalorian removed his helmet with just one hand.

She was completely caught off guard, standing before a half-naked man she’d never once seen this way. He was so different from what she’d imagined, but at the same time, it was him- and she knew it was.

His brown hair was damp. His cheeks were dirty. There was an abrasion on his forehead that bled. He had brown eyes and a softness in his features that felt familiar.

Her heart continued to race, each beat a reminder of the secret she kept within. She loved him before she knew what he looked like, but to see him as he truly was beneath all of his armor felt like the final push over the edge.

She was so in love with him and it was a terrible thing.

“Oh,” was all she could say, and she felt tears well up in her eyes as she took him in. 

He was shy. His brown eyes darted away from hers when she met them, and he kept his head tilted downward as if he worried he was in trouble.

She reached out with tentative fingers to touch his temple, where blood dripped, and she heard his breath catch, but he tried his best to not flinch.

“Can you sit in the grass?” she asked. “It would be easier to help you that way.”

Din did as she asked and she knelt at his side. 

Her heart raced fast, something completely unavoidable given the situation. She felt his eyes on her as she tried to decide the best way to manage the injury.

When she looked up at him, he didn’t look away. He lingered. Brown, desperate eyes stared back at her and it felt like it always did- but more. 

Gently, she touched the cloth to his forehead to wipe away the grime and blood. As she did so, he closed his eyes.

“I… wasn’t trying to give the flower to Wren,” he told her, his voice so much clearer without the modulation in his helmet. ���I don’t know if she told you otherwise.”

Omera swallowed as she averted her gaze to grab the tool she would next use to mend the cut.

“She wasn’t sure, but others argued that you meant it, so I think she’s under that impression.”

He cursed under his breath as she finalized her work on his forehead. 

“I thought that might happen.”

She tucked the tool away and lifted her fingers to the place where she’d last had them. Slowly, her fingers dragged a line against his brow and lifted the damp hair that sat there upward.

“Who was the flower meant for?” she asked timidly. “If not for Wren?”

Din’s eyes met hers. Her hand fell away from his brow and she felt him move, a gentle slow thing, until the crown of his head touched hers, and it was oh, so completely overwhelming. 

Her breath trembled and her eyes closed tight. She didn’t know what this was- what it meant, exactly- but she knew it was the most powerful show of the most quiet feelings, because everything she felt for him came rising up in her chest and squeezed so tight she worried she might begin to cry.

She loved him. It was a terrible, awful secret to hold so tightly to, but it was true. She was in love with him, this private, quiet man, whose strength was bolder than the hesitancy with which he spoke.

He lingered there and she let him, because there was nothing she wanted more than this feeling of closeness, of knowing someone the way they knew one another. 

“I didn’t intend to give the flower to Wren.”

Omera pulled away and tilted her head at him. She opened her mouth to argue, to ask again who he wanted to give the first bloom to, but she realized it didn’t matter. 

His eyes were startlingly calm. He knew what he was doing. He wasn’t shy anymore.

“I come here for you,” he told her. “To see you.” He shook his head. “I wanted to give you the flower, but something happened with Wren, and then I got an emergency ping. There wasn’t time to make things right.”

She was overwhelmed by his confession, by his admissions, and it rendered her completely speechless. She felt tears burn behind her eyes and shook her head back at him.

“Me?”

Din’s hand lifted to cradle her face. At his touch, something she had never felt before, her eyes closed and she leaned into the tenderness he’d offered.

She felt him press into her again, the crowns of their heads touching, and his hand fell away.

“Yes,” he replied. “You.”

Her eyes opened and she found that he waited for her with an almost tortured stare. 

“I’m no one,” she whispered, an argument she’d had with herself plenty of times as she fought her feelings for him. “Why would you choose to come here for me?”

Din shook his head, still pressed against hers, and she felt his hand find hers in her lap. 

“Maybe… if I loved you less, I might be able to talk about it more.”

Having heard enough, she held his face tightly between her hands and kissed him, knowing he probably didn’t know exactly what to do, but he proved her wrong. His arms wrapped around her and he poured all of those quiet feelings into one succinct moment in time that would always be remembered.

He’d chosen her. That was the answer to every question she had. That was all she would ever need to know.

When they broke apart, she met his eyes and felt joy in the warmth between them, laughter on her lips as her hand held the side of his face. 

He was there for her- he wanted her. The thought felt so absurd that she couldn’t help but laugh, overwhelmed by the way it felt to be wanted by someone she wanted in the same way.

“I love you, too.”

His smile was soft, quiet, and his eyes were flooded with affection for her. It was so good, so fulfilling, to know that the secret she kept was one that was shared by him.

Neither of them said anything until they both were interrupted by the sound of Grogu at Din’s side.

“Hi, Grogu,” she greeted, her eyes still tearful and her heart so free and full. She reached out for him and he hopped into her arms happily. “Welcome back. I’m so happy you’re here.”

-

iii.

It was tradition in the village for newly married couples to be granted a few weeks for their honeymoon, a downtime that amounted to travel outside of the village to a place nearby where they could relax in quiet while the others gossiped about how long it might be until the next member of their community was inevitably born.

Omera watched Wren from across the fire. Her smile was wide and her hands were held tight to her chest as she thanked friends and family for their well-wishes. 

At Wren’s side stood Seamus, her shy beau who had finally given her a first bloom when she learned the truth about the one Din had given her. The pair were incandescently happy, cheeks flush from smiling and drinking. 

It was a sweet end to a wonderful day. Weddings were always so beautiful and fun, especially to Winta, who jumped at the opportunity to dress up and do both of their hair in a special way.

Her daughter stood with the other children, giggling while they talked about the newlyweds. Omera wore a flower crown at Winta’s insistence, so both of them matched the bride, who had asked so kindly for them to be the ones to help her get ready for the day.

An arm wrapped around her from behind and a smile filled her face when she felt a gentle kiss press to her temple. 

“Sorry we’re late,” he sighed. “You look really pretty.”

Omera laughed happily under her breath, surprised to hear his voice but so very pleased, and turned around so she could face him. Her arms wrapped around his neck and he touched a kiss to her forehead.

“Thank you,” she replied. “I’m glad you made it here in time to see them off.”

Since their confessions to one another in the clearing, he’d gone without his helmet when he was around her. He was so much gentler now that she knew what he looked like when he stood in quiet corners watching everyone else- watching her. 

His hands settled on her hips and he wore a kind little smile that spread when she spoke.

“I missed you,” she added. “I’m happy you’re here tonight.”

“Me too.” 

His arms wrapped around her, pulling her close enough to hold her in a hug, and she stepped into him willingly, her cheek against his heart and his chin on the top of her head. 

For a while, they were both quiet. It was a moment just for them, before everyone else noticed he’d arrived, and she was grateful for it.

“You think that’ll be us one day?” he asked.

Her smile tugged at her cheeks and she held him closer. “What? Wren and Seamus? Married?”

“Yeah.”

Omera hummed thoughtfully. “I don’t know… there’s a lot about us that we need to think about, isn’t there?” She took a deep breath. “It’s nice to dream.”

For a few moments, they stayed as they were, perfectly content, before she determined she needed to go to wish Wren and Seamus well. She slid her hand into Din’s after she stepped away from him.

“Come on,” she said with a tug on his hand. “We’ll send them off together.”

Wren was busy with Alyx and Phoebe when Omera approached, but her friends didn’t take issue with her interrupting the conversation. They welcomed it happily, flashing knowing grins her way when they realized Din had returned from his travels.

“I’m excited for you,” she told Wren as she gave her friend a tight hug. “You both make a wonderful pair and you’ll be a great team.”

“Thank you, Omera. Truly. You’ve done so much for us.”

“You’re welcome.” She pulled away and turned to Din, gesturing to the newlyweds. “Do you have any advice for them?”

He eyed her for a few seconds carefully before he gave them a firm nod. “Be good to each other. You don’t know your time has run out until it’s too late.”

After the newlyweds were sent away with rousing cheers and happy farewells, Omera found Winta and Grogu and brought them home for the night. Winta liked it when Grogu slept over, and with Din’s permission, they agreed that the boy could stay with them for just the night.

Once the kids were tucked into bed, Omera met Din just outside under the cool glow of night, the stars above his focus while he waited for her return. She went to his side and set her chin against his arm while her hand found his. 

His head tilted toward her and she saw his tiny smile before he spoke. “I don’t want to scare you, but I bought us a ship.”

“A ship?” she repeated, pulling back slightly. Her eyes narrowed. “Why?”

Din shook his head. “We were never all going to fit in the N-1. I thought… if I got us a ship with bunks for the kids and a space for us…” He paused, his hand tightening around hers. “I thought maybe we could be together more than just here.”

Her heart raced wildly and she quickly became overcome with every possible emotion, but especially the love she felt for him. 

“You want us to go with you? To leave Sorgan?”

He seemed nervous by her questions. His nod was quick and he released her hand. 

“I should have asked first, but I guess I thought we could just… figure it out.”

Omera had never been completely rendered speechless before, but she truly was unsure about what to say or do. She could hardly process what it would mean or what the implications were.

“Do you want to come with me?” he asked. “We can come back here as much as you want. It doesn’t have to be permanent.”

Her teeth grazed her lower lip and she folded her arms against her chest as she directed her focus up, to the stars. It was so quiet on Sorgan. Up there, as he’d once told her, it was so loud.

But maybe, she thought, if they were together, the noise would fade into the background. Maybe instead, they would have comfort in one another when it became unbearable. Maybe the reason he came to Sorgan was for the calm and quiet he sought in her- not in the place.

Did she see him the same way? Could she?

Her mind wandered to the advice he’d given the newlyweds earlier and she felt her chest get tight. They weren’t guaranteed time. She’d learned that all too well over the span she’d known Din. He came to her bruised and shot more than once. The longer they spent apart, the harder it was- especially now, with their feelings for one another known wholly.

Her gaze fell once more to the Mandalorian, who stood awaiting her response. He seemed a little nervous, like he dreaded the fact that he’d done something without talking to her first. It was an act of strength that he’d bought them a ship- one that came from a place of feeling like he knew what he wanted.

He wanted her. All the time. Every day.

“How long would you like to travel together?” she asked, finally lowering her eyes to meet his again.

Din didn’t budge. “For as long as you want to.” He tipped his head toward her. “If it means anything, I asked Winta… she said yes.”

“What did you ask?” she asked with a frown.

A coy little grin sat on his lips. “If it was okay to propose.”

Her heart skipped a wild beat and she smiled, unable to stop herself as she stepped closer to him again. Her hands settled flat against his chest. 

“Most of the time, people propose with a ring,” she teased. “Not a ship.”

His head tilted to the side. “I’m just thinking ahead.”

Omera laughed gently and nodded. “Yes.”

An eyebrow lifted on his forehead as if he hadn’t heard her right. “Yes? What-”

“Yes,” she said again, closing the space between them entirely with a happy smile.

Din’s arms were around her in an instant, pulling her clean off of the ground, and she laughed in surprise as she spun, her hands finding the back of his head in time for her feet to find their footing once more. She drew him in for a kiss that sealed their promise.

“Marry me,” he murmured, all boyish and sweet. 

She grinned because she loved the gentle look in his eyes and the strength of his arms still firm around her. She loved him. All of him.

“Yes.”

-

iv.

Wren and Phoebe both cried when Omera packed up the last of their belongings in the back of a repulsorlift sled. Alyx did not, having decided to be strong in the face of saying goodbye.

“We’ll miss you so much,” Wren cried into her neck as they hugged farewell. “Please come back from time to time.”

Omera nodded, though her chest was tight with equal measures of sadness. She would miss this place, and these people, and everything she’d learned here. It was her home for a long time, and now, she would have the chance to explore the galaxy with her family. 

When Phoebe went to her, they squeezed one another tight. “I told you he’d fight.”

Omera laughed softly. “I’m glad you were right.”

After giving each of her friends another goodbye hug, she finally looked over at her new husband, who had put his armor on that morning with a little worried crease in his brow before he asked, “You’re sure you want to go today?”

He was so good to her that it made the sorrow of the goodbye sting far less than it otherwise might have.

His encouraging smile accompanied a tilt of his head toward the sled. “We should hit the road.”

Omera hummed in agreement. She set her hands on Winta’s shoulders and kissed the top of her head. 

The girl had struggled for several days with the prospect of leaving her friends. Her nightly tears almost were enough to change Omera’s mind on the choice to leave, but after a long walk through the forest with Din one afternoon, she came back with a new perspective and agreed that it was the right thing to do.

“All right, sweetheart?”

Winta managed a smile, though her cheeks were wet, and nodded her head. 

“I’m ready.”

She hopped up onto the sled with Grogu and put her new brother into her lap, an action that was received with a happy smile from the boy. 

Omera paused when she felt a hand against her arm and turned to find Alyx in front of her. 

“I know I said it a few days ago, but…” Alyx lifted her eyebrows. “Good luck. Have fun exploring the galaxy. You don’t get to do this twice. I’m glad you decided to go.”

Omera nodded. “You were right. About all of it.” She eyed the Mandalorian at her side. “Even about the Mandalorian being husband material.”

Alyx laughed. “I told you.” She winked at Din. “Take care of our girl, Din.”

“I will.”

Din’s hand settled on her lower back and she craned her head to look at him, her heart full. 

“Okay, my love,” she said as she turned toward the sled. “I think it’s time to go.”

“For just a little while,” he promised, and it made her heart grow ever fonder of him. “We’ll be back.”

Omera smiled easily. “I know.”

[forgettable-au]

FORGETTABLE-AU (Page 48-52)

FOUND.

[BEGINNING] [PREVIOUS] [CONTINUE]

[thatnununguy]

PLEASREE PLEASE SHOW MORE EQUIGAM ART PLEASE!!!!!!

When in doubt — post yaoi art. Or however the saying goes. Perchance.

[snarkspawn]

I really enjoy playing through tnp again like hi it's been a while

[lunacias]

these are the silt verses, and I name our disciples thus

[lightnersdream]

i've been thinking about exactly why people portraying one of the other crew members successfully killing Jimmy as a "for what you did to Anya" kind of thing rubs me the wrong way a bit and it's because like..... this is just another form of taking agency away from Anya, in a way. it's kind of framing her as some meek, shivery woman-thing who's entirely at the mercy of the men around her, either to hurt her or save her.

(i understand these are mostly for wish fulfillment on the audience's behalf because everyone would like to see Jimmy pay for his crimes. whether or not this is the intention of the person writing it isn't really relevant, characterization happens with or without intent. i feel like it misses the point by portraying it as an 'ideal ending'.)

because... Anya is a capable person. she takes things into her own hands when she can. it was partially(?) her idea to get into the cargo,

(before he interrupts her.. remember when she interrupted Curly in the dead pixel segment?)

it was her idea to get the code scanner from the cockpit,

it was her idea to get the medication from behind the foam.

(the chance to do these things herself is not given to her.)

she'd been keeping Curly alive for months in a critical state somehow, her psych evaluations at the start are only so useless because Jimmy refuses to take it/her seriously and Curly is obviously biased when he puts it into his own hands. he's known him a long time, like he said. "I'll just put good for that one."

there's not a lot of material to work with because of how the game is framed, but it's there. we are working with two very biased perspectives and neither one lends Anya what she deserves

there's significant changes in how she speaks post- and pre- crash, and depending on who she happens to be talking to. i recommend re-reading her dialogue, because the difference is drastic

she acts the way she does around Jimmy because he has tangibly done horrible things to her, is actively hostile, and physically could not escape him by any means. she can't take away Curly's agency herself, in my eyes. you have to remember that Especially in the post-crash segments of the game, it's entirely from Jimmy's POV, and he obviously does not (and has never) thought very highly of her or treated her with a shred of respect

i've seen a general idea that she can't bear to hurt other people for any reason, but that doesn't really track to me. this is the real point of the post by the way

it seems based on the parts where she says she struggles to give Curly medication. "It just hurts him so much, I can't stand the noise." "It makes me nauseous."

it's not really the same thing as, say, hurting someone in self defense

this sounds like she did want the gun itself. this never felt worded like someone who would refuse to, at very least, threaten Jimmy with a gun, with violence. if she had been given the agency to make that decision on her own. she wasn't though

she still tries to reclaim some of it even as she's denied it

by the end she's still trying to keep that gun out of his hands

i think some people overly soften her, for similar reasons the game itself is trying to comment on. she's not a tender victim who couldn't cause pain to another out of the softness of her soul, she's a person who's had every last bit of agency ripped from her repeatedly until she couldn't take it anymore. that's the point. that's why framing her that way, "needing" someone to save her, is odd to me

she didn't need Curly to save her, she needed him to take responsibility

she didn't want to escalate things, but she's not an idiot. self defense was absolutely on her mind

but who knows im just saying shit *smiles serenely*

[teaboot]

if ur a murderbot nerd now do u have any fun opinions abt it yet?

Oh my goddd you have no idea

I really, really, really like Murderbot because it comes at life with this perspective we don't often see that is very real among people who have already been through traumatic experiences, who developed skills and abilities to suvive that were once useful but no longer have context- that search that traumatized people go through to recalibrate and reorient ourselves in a world where we no longer really need those things to survive.

A bit personal here, but my own issues personally involved a lot of psychological abuse that made it difficult to trust my own perceptions of reality, and as a result I found I was very easy to lie to and manipulate.

To handle this, I became obsessive over writing things down, cataloging details and making notes of things as they happened- I'd carry recording devices and make audio recordings and stay up late at night to transcribe what they'd picked up, read those over and over again to reassure myself of things I wasn't certain about.

While doing this, there were others close to me that I felt responsible for, who I had to protect from others and protect myself from at the same time. Life was about two things: Evidence, and defusing threats

Over time, I learned to trust myself as my memories matched what had been recorded where their narrative didn't, but I never really kicked the habit. Like Murderbot, I had added something to my own programming that reassured me I was safe, that I was in control of myself, that I couldn't be mistaken or crazy or broken or used.

I'm only on book two, but already I see myself in Murderbot again. No spoilers here, but when I left home- left that dangerous context- I didn't need to repeat these patterns to survive anymore, but I still did, because I didn't know anything else anymore. It felt safe, comfortable, knowing knowing that the past couldn't repeat itself, because I'd written that flaw- blind trust in myself-  out of my programming and replaced it with something else.

Still, though, I'd become something specially suited to thrive in a very specific environment. Nothing else felt right like followinghigh-risk situations, like witnessing and watching and recording and knowing I had proof of the truth where others might not.

People took notice. I wound up in security by accident, but's an environment that I thrive in due to the same patterns and behaviours I originally developed when I had no other choice. I climbed the ladder pretty quickly, once supervisors caught on that my reports were the most accurate, most objective, most factual, detail-oriented and timely. I keep others and myself safe and prioritize public safety above all else, and I perform well under pressure

Now I'm in a position where I often wonder, do I enjoy this job, or is it just what I'm good at? I have a set of skills now, but do I have the option of choosing not to use them? What would I be, if not this? Could I be anything else? Can Murderbot be anything else?

It has a set of skills that set it apart, make it different, special. It does what it knows best. But is it free? Does it want to be? What does it want? Does it have to do what it was built to do? What if it didn't?

I know what I'm good for. The idea of deliberately leaving what I'm good for for something uncertain, that I might hate, that I might be useless at- the choice to give up what was so important to me for so long and become deliberately obsolete?

Let go of my entire purpose? The only thing I know, that I fit so well into but don't actually know if I enjoy? Now that I can choose? Now that enjoyment is a luxury I can afford to consider?

Yeah, that resonates.

I like the Murderbot series so far because it feels the way I feel: Like the most significant and formative part of my story, the part where I became what I am, has already happened

And now I have to just. Keep going

Into... what?

It feels absurd. Like a microwave giving up on reheating food and deciding to start a life around abstract dance.

So, uh. Yeah. It's really very wild to see this same philosophical-ish dilemma I've been digging over in the back of my mind and in therapy for the last forever laid out so plainly in a genuinely exciting and enjoyable story like this. I feel much less alone, and I... kind of really need to see how it resolves, I think.

So, uh. Yeah. Read Murderbot, I guess

[ask-queen-arti]

"Damage Control" [ part 1 / part 2 / part 3 / part 4 ]

(OOC: she is back! sorry for the inactivity, and thank you for being patient)

[demaparbat-hp]

Almost

[limeshade]

What’s the matter with them? Why are they acting that way? Why, don’t you know? They’re “twitterpated.” Twitterpated? Yes. Nearly everybody gets twitterpated in the springtime. For example—

BAMBI (1942) Directed by David D. Hand et al. Written by Perce Pearce, Larry Morey et al.

[empty-movement]

Bud of the White Rose: EVERYTHING

HEY. HI. VANNA HERE. Yes, I've seen the countless messages, mostly on Tumblr, begging for links to download the musical, a static accessible copy of the script, and lyrics in Japanese for the main banger, Absolute Darkness: The Rose Garden.

I've procrastinated on this for many reasons! The script was worked out live in the subtitles, making it...kinda hard to translate back into a normal format. Thanks Notepad++ as always for that one. Also, I've felt like I should make a website for this content, and I still think that, but it also has impeded my sharing the content, and that sucks. But you know what? WE HAVE A FORUM. And unlike Discord, this will be archived and permanent! (Yes, I will do the 2019 Black Rose one as well, gimmie time)

2018's Musical Utena ~ Bud of the White Rose: Script & Everything Else!

(Oh, did you want the 2019 Blooming Rose of Deepest Black? Made that post too!!)

Ok fine, I know most of you want the banger lyrics and are too lazy to click for the thread:

M6: Absolute Darkness: The Rose Garden (plays after Saionji loses the duel) (Note, the romanization is via google, though I did check that it sounded right! The Japanese is from the program book.)

WAKABA: Wrapped in a nostalgic fragrance…​ 懐かしい香りに包まれた​ Natsukashii kaori ni tsutsuma reta​ NANAMI: …sealed with the wax crest of a red rose, a formal invitation arrives.​ 赤い薔薇の刻印に 飾られた招待状​ Akai bara no kokuin ni kazara reta shoutaijou​ MIKI: A white rose is pinned to the chest, this becomes the target.​ 胸に差した白き 薔薇を目印にして​ Mune ni sashita shiroki bara wo mejirushi ni shite​ JURI: The desperate search for you, a pursuit that begins on the night of the ball.​ 君を探し求める 舞踏会の夜​ Kimi wo sagashimotomeru budoukai no yoru​ SAIONJI: A heavy gate opens… and then! The sharp point of a sword—​ 重い扉は開き 鋭き剣先は​ Omoi tobira ha hiraki surudoki kensaki ha​ TOUGA: …plucks at the strings of destiny, and the music swells…​ 運命の音楽つま弾く​ Unmei no ongaku tsumabiku​

EVERYONE: The two of you begin to dance, and before long hurt one another.​ 君と君を求む者が舞う やがて互いを傷つける​ Kimi to kimi wo motomu mono ga mau yagate tagai wo kizutsukeru​ EVERYONE: A dance turned to a duel. Just like puppets…​ 決闘と化し まるで人形のように​ Kettou to kashi marude ningyou no you ni​ EVERYONE: …at the mercy of a god’s rhythm, two shadows suspended in absolute darkness.​ 神のリズムに翻弄される 漆黒に浮かぶ 二人の影​ Kami no rizumu ni honrou sareru shikkoku ni ukabu futari no kage​ EVERYONE: The rose garden… And you — the Bride.​ 薔薇の花園 花嫁の君​ Bara no Hanazono hanayome no kimi​ ANTHY: When the rose petals are scattered…​ 輪のバラの散らされた (As in the program, but not accurate to the sung lyric, which I will use from here on.)​ 一輪の薔薇の散らされた (Accurate to the lyrics, credit to barafubuki's initial Japanese script)​ Ichirin no bara no chirasa reta ​ ANTHY: …you turn up your face to the heavens…​ 天空を見上げれば​ tenkuu wo miagereba​ UTENA: …and there you see the illusory castle that will descend, someday.​ 幻の城いつか御許に 舞い降りる​ Maboroshi no shiro itsuka mimoto ni maioriru​

EVERYONE: At the mercy of a god’s rhythm, two shadows suspended in absolute darkness.​ 神のリズムに翻弄される 漆黒に浮かぶ 二人の影​ Kami no rizumu ni honrou sareru shikkoku ni ukabu futari no kage​ EVERYONE: The rose garden… And you — the Bride.​ 薔薇の花園 花嫁の君​ Bara no Hanazono hanayome no kimi​ EVERYONE: We’ll never be separated again!​ 二度と離さない…​ Nidoto hanasanai…​

M25: Absolute Darkness: The Rose Garden ~ Reprise ​ NANAMI: Grasping for control…​ 狂わされた運命​ Kuruwasareta unmei ​ MIKI: …of a mad fate…​ 支配された​ shihai sareta​ NANAMI: …a spirit bound without hope…​ 魂縛り付けて​ Tamashii shibaritsukete ​ MIKI: …to a vast world of emptiness.​ 広がる虚無の世界​ hirogaru kyomu no sekai​ SAIONJI: There in the smoldering fire is an indelible portrait…​ 炎で燃やしつくしても 消えない肖像​ Honou de moyashi tsukushite mo kienai shouzou​ WAKABA: …rescued by a shadow from inside the frame.​ 絵の中から救ってくれる あの人の影​ E no naka kara sukutte kureru ano hito no kage ​ JURI: Countless illusions of who you are, overlapping each other…​ 無数のあなたの幻影が 重なり合ってかつての​ Musuu no anata no gen'ei ga kasanariatte katsute no​ EVERYONE: …and painting over the real you.​ 自分を塗りつぶしていく​ Jibun wo nuritsubushite iku​ ANTHY: Even in absolute darkness, I feel your warm hands pulling me forward…​ 漆黒の闇もあなたの手の温もり感じ前に進む​ Shikkoku no yami mo anata no te no nukumori kanji mae ni susumu​ ANTHY: …toward the sunlit garden that's surely ahead.​ 光の庭にたどり着く日は きっと来る​ Hikari no niwa ni tadoritsuku hi ha kittokuru​ ANTHY: Then, you'll let go of my hand, and it won’t even matter if we’re separated…​ その時にあなたが手を離して 去っていっても構わない​ Sonotoki ni anata ga te wo hanashite satte itte mo kamawanai​ ANTHY: …because your warmth will stay with me, for all eternity…​ 温もり忘れない きっと永遠（とわ）に…​ Nukumori wasurenai kitto eien (towa) ni…​ ​ (dialogue cut - note that there is also dialogue occurring over and between the lyrics from here, so I will only note large breaks)​ ​ NANAMI: Grasping for control…​ 狂わされた運命​ Kuruwasa reta unmei ​ MIKI: …of a mad fate…​ 支配された​ shihai sa reta​ NANAMI: …a spirit bound without hope…​ 魂縛り付けて​ Tamashiishibaritsukete ​ MIKI: …to a vast world of emptiness.​ 広がる虚無の世界​ hirogaru kyomu no sekai​ SAIONJI: There in the smoldering fire is an indelible portrait…​ 炎で燃やしつくしても 消えない肖像​ Honou de moyashi tsukushite mo kienai shouzou​ WAKABA: …rescued by a shadow from inside the frame.​ 絵の中から救ってくれる あの人の影​ E no naka kara sukutte kureru ano hito no kage ​ JURI: Countless illusions of who you are, overlapping each other…​ 無数のあなたの幻影が 重なり合ってかつての​ Musuu no anata no gen'ei ga kasanariatte katsute no​ EVERYONE: …and painting over the real you.​ 自分を塗りつぶしていく​ Jibun wo nuritsubushite iku​ ANTHY: Even in absolute darkness, I feel your warm hands pulling me forward…​ 漆黒の闇もあなたの手の 温もり感じ前に進む​ Shikkoku no yami mo anata no te no nukumori kanji mae ni susumu​ ANTHY: …toward the sunlit garden that's surely ahead.​ 光の庭にたどり着く日は きっと来る​ Hikari no niwa ni tadoritsuku hi ha kittokuru​ ANTHY: Then, you'll let go of my hand, and it won’t even matter if we’re separated…​ その時にあなたが手を離して 去っていっても構わない​ Sonotoki ni anata ga te wo hanashite satte itte mo kamawanai​ ANTHY: …because your warmth will stay with me, for all eternity…​ 温もり忘れない きっと永遠（とわ）に…​ Nukumori wasurenai kitto eien (towa) ni…​

(dialogue cut)​ ​ EVERYONE: When the rose petals are scattered…​ 一輪の薔薇の散らされた​ Ichirin no bara no chirasareta ​ EVERYONE: …you turn up your face to the heavens…​ 天空を見上げれば​ tenkuu wo miagereba​ EVERYONE: …and there you see the illusory castle that will descend, someday.​ 幻の城いつか御許に 舞い降りる​ Maboroshi no shiro itsuka mimoto ni maioriru​ EVERYONE: At the mercy of a god’s rhythm, two shadows are suspended in absolute darkness.​ 神のリズムに翻弄される 漆黒に浮かぶ 二人の影​ Kami no rizumu ni honrou sareru shikkoku ni ukabu futari no kage​ EVERYONE: The rose garden… And you — the Bride.​ 薔薇の花園 花嫁の君​ Bara no Hanazono hanayome no kimi​ EVERYONE: We’ll never be separated again!​ 二度と離さない…​ Nidoto hanasanai…​ ​ (credits/cast walk-on)​ ​ UTENA: When the rose petals are scattered…​ 一輪の薔薇の散らされた​ Ichirin no bara no chirasa reta ​ UTENA: …you turn up your face to the heavens…​ 天空を見上げれば​ tenku wo miagereba​ UTENA: …and there you see the illusory castle that will descend, someday.​ 幻の城いつか御許に 舞い降りる​ Maboroshi no shiro itsuka mimoto ni maioriru​ EVERYONE: At the mercy of a god’s rhythm, two shadows are suspended in absolute darkness.​ 神のリズムに翻弄される 漆黒に浮かぶ 二人の影​ Kami no rizumu ni honrou sareru shikkoku ni ukabu futari no kage​ EVERYONE: The rose garden… And you — the Bride.​ 薔薇の花園 花嫁の君​ Bara no Hanazono hanayome no kimi​ EVERYONE: We’ll never be separated again!​ 二度と離さない…​ Nidoto hanasanai…​

(credits/cast walk-on)​

UTENA: When the rose petals are scattered...​ 輪の薔薇の散らされた​ Ichirin no bara no chirasa reta ​ UTENA: ...you turn up your face to the heavens...​ 天空を見上げれば​ tenkū o miagereba​ UTENA: ...and there you see the illusory castle that will descend, someday.​ 幻の城いつか御許に 舞い降りる​ Maboroshino-jō itsuka omoto ni maioriru​

EVERYONE: At the mercy of a god’s rhythm, two shadows are suspended in absolute darkness.​ 神のリズムに翻弄される 漆黒に浮かぶ 二人の影​ Kami no rizumu ni honrō sareru shikkoku ni ukabu futari no kage​ EVERYONE: The rose garden... And you — the Bride.​ 薔薇の花園 花嫁の君​ Bara no Hanazono hanayome no kimi​ EVERYONE: We’ll never be separated again!​ 二度と離さない…​ Nidoto hanasanai…

[ship-it-sideways]

Hi hi I love your art and everything aaaaa Grumbo is so cute!! I'm mainly a scarian shipper but gosh I saw your Grumbo and it's just *chef's kiss* please draw more!!!! (mayhaps you can draw some scarian in the future 👉👈 /nf)

Thank you so much !!!!!! <3 I loveeee drawing desert duo generally but I wanted to draw something shippy-er so I spent a while doing this >:3c

[graveyardgremlins]

WIP:

“You have a bat themed computer?! This is somehow worse than my dad naming everything after our family.” “Wait, does he actually do that?” “Yeah, dude. We have the Fenton Bazooka, the Fenton Boo-merang, the Fenton Family Ghost Assault Vehicle, the Fenton Phones, Fenton Rocket, Fenton Skateboard…” “Wait, wait. You own an assault vehicle? A rocket?” “What? You're saying it as if you don't.” “Yeah, but my… He is Batman. Not exactly the poster boy for sanity, you know?” “Well, look at the bright side! You don't have to feel awkward about it anymore. If anyone gets it, it's me.” Jason smiled, a bit dizzy, and guided him. Jason had never brought anyone to the cave before. It felt oddly heavy in his chest. He had to resist the urge to keep turning around to check on Danny. He felt a bit like Orpheus in a way.

[dailyloopdeloop]

DAY 101 (103): do it for Them

[aihaloos]

Tempted to write a replaced au twst fic where Yuu (or alternatively, I'll use my Yuu, Riyuu, who is basically who I'm writing this for) used to be the cutest girl around, the cheery one who's always around everyone, the one you can't seem to dislike even if your crush falls for her because she earnestly says sorry (even though it's not her fault) and will always help you out if you need her back in her old school. But one day, a new girl comes around and her whole reputation got destroyed. She helps the new girl adjust, tells her all the rumours and introduces her to all the popular kids. But the girl ends up backstabbing her, telling the popular girls rumours about how she intentionally plays up the act to steal their crushes to her, and lies to the boys, telling them she's just playing with their hearts and that she's a horrible person.

Yuu ends up alone and excluded, being seen as "annoying" and only having a few close friends who doesn't really interact with her in public in fear of their reputation being ruined. She ends up miserable at school, and wishes to not go anymore. But one day comes a saving grace, she gets whisked by a mysterious black carriage into Twisted Wonderland, or more specifically, Night Raven College. She doesn't mind working if it meant she doesn't have to deal with her old school, there was still 1 and a half years left of school and she doesn't want to deal with all ghe group projects to be assigned that will inevitably end with everyone not wanting to team up with her. Plus, as annoying Grim is, he's like the animal friend all of the anime and storybook protagonists she knows has, and she doesn't mind him too much.

Some things did change after she and Grim got officially enrolled, but she had no problem adapting to the social expectations of the world, part time jobs with Sam -- and occasionally the canteen -- paid enough to get her tools for cooking basic but delicious food, and new friends without the weight of her past helped her get settled comfortably.

The existence of Overblots stunned her for a bit, but a peek into Riddle and Leona's memories helped her understand the concept, even if just a little. However, things began to change eerily simlarly to her old school when a new girl comes, also in a similar position to her, getting transported to a new, unfamilliar world, and seemingly hailing from a similar world to the Earth she knows. She warmly welcomes her, eager to finally befriend another girl, but it seems that the girl does not share the same enthusiasm.

The girl only barely responds to Yuu's attempts at forming a friendship, and always seems to talk her in a condescending way, and often dismisses her, and especially so whenever there are any boys around.

Yuu will not deny any statements claiming she's an attention seeker or that she plays up her sweet innocent girl act, but she knows to never, ever sacrifice a bystander for it. But if someone insists on war with her... well that's another, different story. She's learnt her lesson of being overly optimistic, and she will not make the same mistake twice. She will not let her make her life a living hell more than it already is with Crowley's irresponsibleness.

Aaand thus begins the story. Or well, however you wanna continue it. I'm honestly in favour of most Housewardens (Kalim, Vil, and Idia in particular. I'll put my reasoning in a few paragraphs down) Adeuce, Tweels, and Ortho for team Yuu. Why?

Well, first of all, Adeuce. This is mostly because the duo is like. with Yuu since Day 1, as much of a bitch as Ace is, I think those two are the most likely to trust and know Yuu well enough to not believe the lies R (< Replacer) tells. Especially Deuce, he doesn't want to betray a friend he knew for quite a while, that would not be very honor student-like of him!! And she helped him out in a lot of situations too! He doesn't want to hurt you after all the trouble you go through to help him, and also knowing how horrible your living conditions are. Ace would most likely give in to peer pressure if the student body is overwhelmingly in favour of R, but as of now, he maybe enjoys your company just a bit more than R. Just a bit, promise.

Tweels I feel like is self-explanatory. Those two are perceptive as fuck istg it scares me. Jade especially. I feel like the two would just toy with R for a bit despite her facade and lies before dropping her after she bothers them for attention and favours one too many times.

(Ortho ties in with Idia so I'll explain him in Idia's paragraph)

Kalim is actually very emotionally intelligent. He can come off annoying and stupid, but from all the scenes I see of him, he's actually really good at dealing with people. Have you seen how he deals with the Scarabia residents after Jamil's OB??? The way he phrases his sentences?? He didn't force or even plead with them to forgive Jamil, he simply asks them to wait before making permanent judgements, and I think he's gonna be uncomfy with how condescendingly R talks to Yuu, and even if he's used to people going after him for money, I feel like R mostly eyeing him for money and how she "secretly" sighs in annoyance everytime she goes out of the party for a "bathroom break" will only solidify his dislike/discomfort, even if he doesn't show it.

Vil is also kind of self-explanatory if you read into his character and not just the shell the official English localization makes for him. (I could rant for hours about how the official tl portrays his character istg. He's hardworking and he actually didn't attempt to poison Neige out of pure jealousy, he did it because he felt like all his efforts to be beautiful will never be able to surpass Neige, who, in his eyes, always seemed to be innocent and naturally beautiful. He feels like the villain in Neige's story. He feels like he is reduced to what he often plays as, a snobbish, overconfident villain obsessed with overthrowing the hero. And because of it, it became a twisted self-fulfilling prophecy, pushing him to, in a fit of despair, be that same villain everyone sees him as.) I really don't think he will take well to R's condescension to Yuu, who genuinely wants to befriend R. (I actually have a whole thing in my head where Yuu and Vil occasionally have sleepovers where they do skincare together after the whole VDC thing happened. I feel like this is also a "vent sesh" of sorts for the both of them, just to air out their grievances without much seriousness, and I think Yuu would admit to wanting a fellow girl in the school that she could befriend, since no matter what, being the only girl can be exhausting.) Ik Vil's not a girl but he is such a girls' girl istg.

Idia... this mostly ties into Ortho and The STYX Incident, but like,, I think we can all agree on this one,, Idia is smart and capital V Very pessimistic. Would you rather trust the girl you've known for a while, who saw your memories, who helped you in awkward social situations when she can and is besties with your brother or some random new girl who trash talks said girl behind her back? The former, right? Plus, even if Yuu did only hang out with him and his brother because she likes to secretly laugh at him behind his back, there's mo guarantee R wouldn't do the same, given his experience. And he would rather have someone who actively helps him and his brother out than someone who wouldn't.

I didn't put Malleus in because of how canon him actually treats Yuu. I feel like the fandom kind of put on rose-tinted glasses on with his character, and kind of ignored some things like, idk... him just leaving them to fend for themselves homeless during Octavinelle... maybe he thought Crowley would offer them a place to stay but like... I'm still bothered by how didn't atleast offer a spare room in Diasomnia. He's a housewarden goddamnit. He's not as distant or scary as the rumours say but like. still rubbed me the wrong way.

Anyways I don't think my attention span will let me write it to completion so if anyone likes this and wants to write it feel free. Pls tag me if you do tho. I would love to read it :3