I can’t stop imagining that Machete is briefly brought up in Dog 21st Century high school history class, and one student hyperfixates on him being gay with Vasco: historians and their Sapphos.
That would be awfully cute ;_;
But I don't know how likely it would be that either of them left any significant marks on history books, and if there were mentions of them somewhere, would there be enough documentation about their personal lives for people to connect the dots between them. They were, after all, extremely careful about keeping their relationship secret.
Vasco commissioned a few posthumous portraits of Machete after his death, those might've survived to modern day. If historians were able to trace their origin all the way to back to Vasco it could potentially back up theories about there having been something going on between the two.
They maintained active correspondence for over a decade, but written records are easily forgotten, lost and destroyed. It's fun to think about the possibility of a huge stack of some 400 year old deeply personal letters sitting abandoned somewhere, waiting to be rediscovered.
But if I wanted to go for the tragic route, I could also say that when Machete was starting to come apart at the seams and he was sure his enemies had caught him and he was moments away from the end, he burned all of Vasco's love letters in a fit of paranoia and paniced dread, hoping it would save Vasco from being exposed and incriminated with him. Then it turned out to be a false alarm. I don't think he'd ever recover from destroying something so irreplaceable with his own hands, it was like he had murdered Vasco himself. But I don't know if I have the heart to do that to them, to me it's so sad it borders on off-putting. But it would be tragic.
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it was not quite like a rot.
it felt just as slow, however. you knew the early signs should have been there since some time ago, yet you missed them and ignored them. it was also similar in the way that it was similar to dying.
but, it really was different.
when you saw a rot, it felt unpleasant. it could be sadness, it might be disgust. in this tale, you didn't exactly feel like that. when you realized it, you barely felt recognition for it.
when you realized you fell out of love with him, you merely stared emptily at the photo in front of you.
it felt cruel. because somewhere inside you, you still believed that he deserved a gentle, tender moment in his life after everything. you still wish that he would know a kindness that he understood enough to soothe every bitter unhappiness that was left inside there. because he, you know more than anyone, had tried his best to be gentle, to be good for you.
you knew it in the way he etched your name on his tongue, in the way he had softened many rough parts of him just to see you smile, and yet—
as the clouds continued to move, unveiling the blue sky, you knew that your time as "his" had come to an end. that day was peaceful. the sky and the world continued to move.
the night came and you decided to put an end to a story. seven hundred and fifty two days had passed, calmly and almost coldly, you offered him a quiet smile.
"hey, can we talk for bit?"
SAE, RIN, BAROU, reo, kaiser, WANDERER, DILUC, LEONA, azul, RIDDLE, malleus, IDIA, ruggie + your faves.
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IDK if anyone has done this yet, but I got reminded of this post and had to do a quick trace.
(Basketball doesnt actually work like this)
OG under cut
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