#but is it so hard to write a more relatable ones

[flowersforthemachines]

Some facts about Emmrich (and also the Necropolis, Nevarra and other related things) gathered from the banters

I went through all companion banters on DanaDuchy's channel after playing the game to write down all facts about companions/the world that I haven't seen brought up anywhere in the game as a writing reference (and for funsies).

Note: This list may not be exhaustive. I might have missed some something or didn't write it down because I considered it common knowledge. If you have anything to add, please DM me or send an ask! (do specify what banter the information is coming from, though)

Note 2: Posts from this series (mostly) don't include information from banters specific to quests or between companions and faction members. I plan to do another playthrough to capture more of those and will add any relevant info to the character posts.

Other characters' posts: Bellara, Davrin, Harding, Lucanis, Neve, Taash. I'm also planning a post about just the Lighthouse some time later

About Emmrich:

Family and early life:

“Volkarin” is a commoner’s name. Emmrich’s father was a butcher, and his mother was a cook 

When Emmrich was around 5 years old, his neighbours had a pig named Lucy. He was very fond of her, and she’d always let him hug her around his neck

Emmrich grew up poor (clocked by Neve based on the way he always saves his candle stubs, shows up first for meals and never leaves food on his plate) 

Emmrich grew up hearing that all dragons were so hostile they had to be slain and is surprised that Taash has found ways to deal with them peacefully 

General:

The gold Emmrich’ wears is called “grave-dowry” (or “grave gold”). It’s a Nevarran custom to wear precious objects one would like to take to their grave

Emmrich’s bracelet (not specified which one) was gifted to him on the day he became a full Watcher. The ring with a large stone was the last gift from his father. The skull pin doesn’t have a story, he just likes it

Emmrich isn’t fond of the Nevarran nobility

Emmrich’s shaving cream smells like potash (at least to Taash)

Emmrich uses moss perfume with flowers

Decades ago, Emmrich used to see an Orlesian woman who was an art appraiser

If Emmrich wasn’t a watcher, he would like to be a botanist

Emmrich displays some interest in Ferelden, mentioning that many of its heroes greatly shaped the history. Harding says that’s the nicest thing anyone has ever said about her homeland

Emmrich doesn't like beer because it's bitter

Emmrich prefers tea (he mentions purchasing a Brynnlaw curled-leaf blend in Nevarra), but he can also drink coffee 

Emmrich doesn’t eat meat (seafood and insects included), but he indulges in cheese. It seems to be a Watcher thing - he says that each Watcher must decide what they will and won't take a life for, and meat crosses that line for him

Emmrich likes melons, mushrooms and pineapples. He also enjoyed a plate of fried leeks and potatoes at Halos’s stand in Minrathous

Emmrich always thought he’d get married one day

After a Minrathous merchant sells Emmrich fake charms, he causes him to see skeletal faces on the windows and hear spirits whispering that false goods endanger lives as punishment. Emmrich agrees to stop once Neve tells him that she can convince the merchant to get back to selling linen if the visions cease

On magic and studies:

Some deaths may leave emotional imprints so intense Emmrich may feel them decades later 

Emmrich thinks the magic of old Elven artefacts is “rigid” 

Emmrich isn’t very good at figuring out Elven artefacts (by his own admission)

Emmrich’s first published work was A Monograph on the Vagaries of Determining a Body's Time of Death

Emmrich is roughly familiar with the dragon anatomy

Emmrich knows a lot about how bodies work (muscle-wise etc.) from the time he performed autopsies 

Watchers study the death practices of other cultures. Emmrich knew about Eb-ketarra and the Rivaini traditions even before Taash performs them at the end of their questline

On life in the Necropolis: 

When Emmrich fell for another boy during his youth, he showed him a corpse he was allowed to practice dissection on. The date was ruined by a passing wisp possessing the body and causing it to sit up and ruin the mood 

Emmrich tutored Dorian during his term in the Necropolis (“Tremendous potential, but appallingly flippant towards the dead”)

Emmrich and other watchers live in the Necropolis (Emmrich has a flat there)

On life at the Lighthouse:

It took 8 skeletons half a day to bring that slab of marble into Emmrich’s room

He didn’t bring his entire collection of books to the Lighthouse (there are more)

Emmrich talks to skulls in his room 

Lighthouse kitchen reminds Emmrich of the mortuary

Relationships with companions:

Emmrich offers to introduce Bellara to Audric, the Necropolis librarian (who appeared in Tevinter Nights’ Down Among the Dead Men)

Emmrich calls the Archive spirit a work of art  

Emmrich and Davrin disagree on parenting methods. Emmrich thinks Davrin should better discipline Assan and teach him boundaries, while Davrin suggest Emmrich should let Manfred learn more on his own (e.g. let him fall so he learns how to get up) 

Emmrich turns to Neve when he needs help acquiring some reagents he can't get his hands through normal ones, and she agrees to help him out (smuggling is involved)

Emmrich isn’t too thrilled about Neve taking over the Threads, questioning of what’s going to become with the organisation and the future and thinking it may become corrupt (sort of mirroring the way Neve is apprehensive about his lichdom) 

Taash likes Emmrich’s lich helmet. They are not usually fond of skulls, but that helmet is fine because it’s on fire

Taash thinks that gemstones like amethyst or green opal would look good with the lich helmet

Emmrich doesn’t seem to like unrealistic books as he criticised Harding’s “Gore-Knight” novels for their incorrect interpretation of magic. He is worried about people misunderstanding magic and spirits

Emmrich calls himself Harding's 'de facto physician'

On Manfred: 

(If Rook chooses to save Treviso) Manfred brings Neve tea by his own volition. Emmrich thinks it's because Manfred sensed she might need a friend

Manfred is as aware of his surroundings as most people (to a certain degree)

(If revived at the Necropolis) Manfred learns to say Emmrich’s name 

(If revived at the Necropolis) Manfred becomes much more talkative 

Manfred likes boiling tea because he is fascinated by steam

Emmrich suggests Manfred tries tending to plants in Harding's garden 

Manfred is curious about Spite and wanders into Lucanis’s room at night

Spite and Assan miss Manfred if he’s gone

On Lichdom:

Emmrich smells fine to Taash even after he becomes a lich 

Emmrich’s lich helmet burns with veilfire. He once tried using it in combat, but the flame ended up blinding him

Emmrich thinks Strife would no longer be interested in a relationship after he becomes a Lich. That doesn't prove to be true

Lich!Emmrich doesn't need to eat but still comes by the kitchen for company

The energy of Emmrich’s magic changed after he became a lich

Other liches call lich!Emmrich “Young Volkarin” 

Lich!Emmrich no longer has muscles, but when he tries out Taash’s pull-up routine, he can still feel something like “a spectral memory of flesh”, as if he had pulled a tendon

Emmrich starts seeing more books in the Lighthouse library after becoming a linch

About spirit, demons, and the Necropolis: 

There are spirits of Temperance and Diligence 

The Watchers avoid using the word “demon” because it creates bad expectations and can negatively influence spirits 

Some in the Mourn Watch suspected that elves originated from spirits, though it was just one of many theories, and not a particularly popular one

Chambers in the Necropolis can go missing (according to MW!Rook, they turn up, eventually)  

Even after the despair demon is banished from the Necropolis, the halls remain cold. However, the effects will abate with time

There are horses on display in the Necropolis

Watchers rarely get possessed thanks to the special wards of the Necropolis. Possessions also don’t happen as often because the necromancers already provide spirits with bodies, so they don't need to possess anyone by force

Bellara calls the background magic of Necropolis tidy and quiet

There something called “The Deep Necropolis” featuring sections like “The Unspoken Valley” and “The Charnel Bridge” (which has something called “nightmare fog”) that hosts all kinds of entities. Bellara is very excited to visit once the nightmare fog clears

Vorgoth ensures that the transgressions of those who use magical to cruel and abusive means will not be tolerated (whatever that means)

About Nevarra:

Many great Nevarran artefacts have been lost to time, including the Skull of Sabinar, the Key of Dead Dreamers, and the Crown of the Moon

There are strict rules about selling enchantments in Nevarra. You can’t sell anything without a licence and an inspection from the mage Circles

A Tevinter poem “Faustina's Song”, a romantic epic from the Steel Age, is very popular in Nevarra, and its quotes are used on ‘more than one’ epitaph in the Necropolis. Neve is surprised people even read it outside Tevinter 

Pineapples don’t grow in Nevarra

[princess-of-purple-prose]

[ID: Two MDZS comics. The first features Xue Yang and Jin Guangyao in a secret room of the Fragrant Palace. Xue Yang looks over a manuscript plastered in talismans and thinks, "Of Wei Wuxian's surviving manuscripts, this is the only one I've yet to study... But it seems to be protected by some kind of array..."

He does something that makes a large "boom!" go off, and Jin Guangyao, working across from him, doesn't blink as he says "Keep it down, Xue Yang." Xue Yang, now sooty and banged up, opens the now unsealed manuscript and shouts, "Finally!!! The seal is kifted!! Maybe this one can tell me how to revive Xiao Xing---"

We see the pages, which feature Wei Wuxian's writing in cursive talking happily about meeting Lan Wangji in Yiling. Xue Yang stares in silence, flips through the book, and stares more. He then furiously kicks the book hard enough to send it crashing into a bookshelf, and Jin Guangyao says "Xue Yang" in disappointment.

The next is titled "Choosing the New Chief Cultivator." Nie Huaisang is labeled as "not paying attention" as he happily thinks to himself, "Ah~ Now that my 10+ year long quest of revenge is complete, I can finally go into early retirement and live out the rest of my days in blissful leisure..." Meanwhile, someone is saying, "Onto the next order of business-- finding a replacement for the late Lianfang-zun..."

Nie Huaisang continues to grin to himself, "I have so many ideas for new paintings...!! The death of my nemesis has filled me with inspiration--" This is derailed by Wei Wuxian loudly exclaiming, "I think Huaisang-xiong should do it!"

Nie Huaisang stops fanning himself, going HUH? and turning black and white in shock. Someone offscreen says, "Oh? Wei Wuxian, would you care to explain why?" and Wei Wuxian happily says, "Of course!!! I know everyone thinks he's a bit spineless and pathetic, but the truth is, he's actually one of the smartest people I know! He handed Jin Guangyao's funeral and sealing spectacularly, and after everything he's gone through with Chifeng-zun's corpse, don't you all think he deserves it?"

People exclaim, "Well said!!" "I agree!!" "I must say me makes some good points..." "Nie-zongzhu, you have my full support!" Meanwhile, Nie Huaisang and Wei Wuxian communicate solely through eye contact. Nie Huaisang, chewing miserably on his fan, cries, "Wei-xiong!!! How could you?!! After I went through so much truoble to make your Hanguang-jun related dilf fantasies a reality--!!!" Wei Wuxian pulls down an eyelid and sticks out his tongue without sympathy. "This is for endangering my nephew and son. Have fun with all that paperwork."

The final panel shows "The Candidates" for Chief Cultivator, all drawn simply:

Lan Xichen crying solemnly: In mourning/seclusion

Jin Ling sweating: Literal teenager

Nie Huisang laughing nervously: Say he doesn't know but he does

Jiang Cheng glowering: Jiang Cheng. End ID]

[the-original-skipps]

|| Yandere Ghost Pirate!Aventurine x Reader || Headcanons || Honkai Star Rail ||

you guys voted so here it is! I tried to write it without the yandere but I couldn’t lol also I got another yandere pirate aven where’s he’s alive if yall wanna check that out

HUMAN VER.

CW: slight sexual content. forced relations. major yandereness. ghost possession. non-consensual touching. mentions of death & the afterlife.

Yandere Ghost Pirate!Aventurine who feels himself standing by death's door but doesn’t want to actually die. He thought he’d be able to accept it or welcome it even - it’s what he’s always wanted; to be free from this cursed life but images of you flash through his mind as he takes his last breaths.

Yandere Ghost Pirate!Aventurine who before he completely loses himself to the beckoning darkness, silently pleads for death not to take him. There’s so many things he wants to see, to accomplish, that lost treasure he’s yet to find - but most of all he wants to remain beside you longer.

Yandere Ghost Pirate!Aventurine who realizes his luck somewhat saved him again as he’s now a ghost. He’s disappointed that he no longer has a mortal form, completely phasing through any physical object. He also no longer feels urges like hunger or sleep but one urge still remains within him. The urge to see you again.

Yandere Ghost Pirate!Aventurine who leaves the cold waters of the ocean to roam the mortal realm to try to find you again. He’s not sure how long it’s been since he died, he’s not sure if you’re even alive but he needs some closure. Maybe if you’ve died, he hopes that by gaining that knowledge there will be no more lingering regrets tying him to this world. He’d pass on, hopefully to see you in the afterlife. Though he doubts that sinners like him wouldn’t end up in the same place as you.

Yandere Ghost Pirate!Aventurine who has supposedly died but is somehow here in your very living room. After an excruciating long time, he manages to find you alive and well. He looks the same as the last time you’ve seen him except now his fingers have turned blue. Ghostly blue orbs floating around him as he smiles at you gleefully.

Yandere Ghost Pirate!Aventurine who decides to bind himself to you. It’s the whole reason he’s still alive right? The gods he never believed in - they’ve heard his pitiful last wish to remain by your side. They’ve granted it to him! He’ll remain by your side until death comes knocking at your door too. Then you’d be together forever right?

Yandere Ghost Pirate!Aventurine who’s just as mischievous and teasing as when he was still alive but only this time you can’t do anything against him. He’d play countless pranks to scare you - delighting in your frightened expressions. He’ll randomly appear behind you, make objects float around you and purposely make sounds late into the night to frighten you into not sleeping. Don’t sleep, he’s awfully lonely when you do that.

Yandere Ghost Pirate!Aventurine who spends every single second attached to your side. Even if you’re at home or outside in town - he’s there floating around you. Not only is he always there, he also never stops talking. He can’t help it, he’s got no one else to talk to and you’re the only one who can see him.

Yandere Ghost Pirate!Aventurine who likes to whisper distracting and sometimes dirty things in your ear when you talk to other people. Making it hard to concentrate and for the other person to look at you weirdly. Because why are you glancing at something behind them? There’s nothing there right? Right?

Yandere Ghost Pirate!Aventurine who asks - borderline pleading for you to let him possess you. It’s been awfully long since he’s done anything besides being glued to you. You don’t always respond to him either, choosing to ignore him, he needs something else to do. So he constantly asks you to the point of annoyance to give up your body for him. Which one day succeeds because you’re tired of listening to him - even when you’re trying to sleep he doesn’t leave you alone. A decision you’d come to regret.

Yandere Ghost Pirate!Aventurine who immediately breaks the rules you’ve set for him once he’s possessed your body. He can’t help it, there are just so many things he’s always wanted to see you do but you keep refusing to. So he uses this opportunity to make you pull different faces and say things you’d normally not say for his amusement. Is it weird to feel his heart fluttering when he makes you say things like you love him, that you only need him - even though he’s the one who’s controlling your body to do these things?

Yandere Ghost Pirate!Aventurine after being deprived of you for so long, wants to play with your body. He’s missed you deeply, the sight of your bare skin reflected in the mirror inducing excitement within him - your body. It’s a strange feeling he must admit as he runs your hands through your body, wanting to know what makes you tick. He can’t help it, he wants to know everything about you, especially what makes you feel good. As your hand inches closer to your most sensitive parts, Aventurine thinks to himself. You wouldn’t mind if he played a little right? Your body would definitely enjoy it.

Yandere Ghost Pirate!Aventurine who had to forcibly peel himself from the mirror finally heads into town to indulge himself. He doesn’t want to spend the money you painstakingly made so he has to earn some himself. Aventurine in your body hits up the largest tavern in town to gamble. It didn’t take long for him to sweep the table clean of riches, all for his taking. The usual accusations of cheating happens, and a fight breaks out. The last thing he wants to do is to get injuries on your precious body so he ends the fight quickly and cleanly. He has some shopping to do after.

Yandere Ghost Pirate!Aventurine who lays down beside you on your bed after enjoying a night out in town. As much as he enjoyed possessing you, he misses your actual presence. So, he lays there beside you until you wake up. When you do, you almost jump out of your skin with how close his face is to yours. You feel as if you’ve gone into the deepest sleep, not remembering anything after you gave Aventurine permission to possess you. You immediately ask him what happened and what he’s done while he controlled your body. Only for him to give you a teasing smile. Which makes you horrified and confused as to what he’s done. Also as to why your room is filled with ribboned boxes.

Yandere Ghost Pirate!Aventurine as days goes by starts to become more possessive of you - wanting to monopolize you. He keeps track of the people in your life, who they are and what they mean to you. He wants to get rid of them one by one until you have him remaining. So, don’t be so surprised to hear that your friends want nothing to do with you anymore - or if the person who was seemingly interested in you disappears. Oh, they got into a tragic accident? How unfortunate! Don’t look at him like he didn’t do anything or so he wants you to believe.

Yandere Ghost Pirate!Aventurine who’s starting to miss touching and holding you like he used to when he was still alive. At this point he’s starving for the feel of your skin on his hands again. He ponders if he should possess someone to make that happen but he doesn’t want anyone else’s hands to touch you even if he’s in control of it. He’ll just have to find some other way then. He’s heard rumors of a sea witch who supposedly grants people’s wishes. Maybe he’ll pay her a visit?

Yandere Ghost Pirate!Aventurine who contemplates every now and then when you’d die. If you died would you also become a ghost? He ponders this question a lot in his abundant free time. What if you just pass on? There are too many uncertainties, he needs to find the answer. When the time comes you’ll gladly join him right? No? Well, he has ways to make it happen whether you’re willing or not. Only then would you both be truly bound to each other, beyond life and death. 

[pernesophe]

Omg I’m so excited about requests!!!!!

I really love your work re: Suo, from Wind Breaker, so I was hoping for more of him.

Like a seamstress! Reader x Suo, who’s never at the repair shop for himself but notices reader anyway and it’s not at all obvious? I just love the idea of Suo wrestling his feelings over someone yk? A work-oriented, not easily wavering reader, who’s too busy doing her work to notice him until it’s the ONLY OPPORTUNITY. Maybe they’re college age? Idk I just love him with a super serious and driven gf.

Minors and Ageless Blogs please DNI! (Edited (1.5.25))

First Request Woop Woop!! Thank you so much for sending this in!

I do want to preface that Suo is one of the harder characters for me to write - he's just so foxlike and keeps his emotions hidden (I am not like this so it's hard to relate to him lmao). Also reader wanted to have their own say in this piece ig (characters rebelling and all that). So this may not live up to your request, and if it doesn't then I'm so sorry - I really did try!!

Really I was aiming to only write 500-1k words, but here's like 2.9k because I have no self control lol:

TW: Fluff (Divider by @sweetmelodygraphics)

Suo and the Seamstress

It was a brisk day, the wind whipped through Suo’s coat on the way to the little shop located at the end of Main Street. Not much had changed around town since he left for college, though that may just be because of his weekly visits, so the changes felt gradual. Like this building on the end of the street that had been vacant until his last year at Furin when a seamstress moved in, or how that seamstress hired an apprentice the same summer. 

So it came as no surprise that through the window he could already see you working as he pushed through the wooden door, the tiny brass bell chiming overhead to announce his arrival. Once inside he was greeted by the warm embrace of the tiny radiator eeking heat from the back of the shop, followed by the rhythmic drumming of the machine you were pushing fabric through.

At first he glanced around for your boss, but it seemed - to his delight - that she was out on a supply run. You were still sitting there behind the ornate front desk working, taking no notice of him at all. By the register sat a little sign next to a bell that read: “Be back later! Ring to get their attention!”

The auburn haired man didn’t ring the bell though, he didn’t step forward, instead he hovered by the door and observed. As you paused to deftly fold the fabric into layers, pin it, and then neatly line it up under the metal foot before pressing the pedal on the floor lightly - the same way you would accelerate a car. Eyes narrowed slightly as you watched the needle raise and lower, the internal mechanisms resumed that comforting drum that echoed through the shop. A clip secured all of your hair at the back of your head so he had a clear view of your side profile.

Usually he handled dropping the uniforms off for the Furin boys, and Nirei was the one who would handle pick up, so Suo’s only seen you in the morning light. Memories glowed softly in his mind, the gentle rays barely illuminating the planes of your face. Shadows cascaded under your jaw, behind your ear, stretching up into the strands of hair laid flush against your head to create a dark and delicate shawl. Always silent in the early hours, sometimes with your lips pressed into a line and a notch in your brow. He was never quite sure if it was from concentration, or if you were trying to hide your honest feelings about the “upscale orders” that would overflow from the city. 

This time the afternoon light was much brighter, coming through the window set behind you, vibrant orange mixed with the white daffodil rays from earlier. Backlit by the sun, it illuminated everything about you at this hour. The light crept up your back, threaded through your hair, stretching over your cheeks, and wrapping over your shoulder to climb up the column of your throat while lacing down over your collarbone as well.

Suo was grateful for your driven nature in this moment, eyes focused on the ever tamping foot of the machine, so he could steal these precious moments to himself. Tracing the ridge of your nose, swoop of your jaw, and the bend of your cheek with his careful eye. How the bow of your lip was so prominent when you pursed your lips in thought. The strand of hair that fell from your clip and kissed the nape of your neck - all of it he committed to memory until the next time Nirei couldn’t handle pick up…

And then, like a bird watcher being caught by the bird itself, you glanced out of the corner of your eye and immediately straightened to look at him head on. The drumming of the machine fell away, replaced with the humming lights overhead. 

“Sorry I didn’t see you there,” mumbling as you stood, smoothing down your shirt and trousers before approaching the desk. Suo mirrored you step for step until you met at the desk together, you peering up at him - your soft timbre still ringing in his ears.

“It’s quite alright - I never rang the bell,” Suo replied with a serene smile, nodding towards the little sign and rounded piece of silver. 

“Can I have your name and ticket, please?” Your hand held out to him, palm up, as you spoke. For a moment he was taken aback by how unfazed you were to his presence. Fishing the ticket out of his pocket, he produced the small, rectangular piece of yellow parchment. 

“Suo Hayato,” he responded through an unfaltering smile as he slid the paper into your hand, “though I think the ticket’s under-”

“The Bofurin Account, right. One moment please,” you cut him off as you turned towards the rack of garment bags behind the counter. He was left blinking rapidly at your clip as you thumbed through the hangers on the rack. After a moment, you grabbed a bundle of hangers loosely tied together and lifted the bags off the rack, then turned back and laid them across the counter.

”So, Mr. Suo,” you enunciated each word in turn, eyes still trained on the garment bags until they slowly lifted, traveling the expanse of his torso until they met his curious gaze. A light dusting of pink rose to his cheeks from the moniker, your unwavering gaze spiking his heart. He leaned forward slightly as you parted your lips to inquire, “were there a lot of knife fights this week?”

”Uh-hm, what?” Suo sputtered, clearing his throat before he responded with a question. Tilting your head, not unlike a hawk sizing up its prey, you gestured to the garment bags - wrist turned up towards him, your fingertips skimming the canvas, thumb slightly folded over your palm. 

“There were a lot of cuts, looked like some kids were sliced?” Your tone seemed nonchalant at first, but one of your brows slowly raised as the c hissed between your teeth as if they were connected by a string. Suo felt hot and prickly under his coat as a drop of sweat ran down his back from your unblinking stare.

”Well, yes,” Suo began cautiously, with a curt nod, “that happens when thugs bring knives to a fight.” His lips were curled into a serene smile, but his words shifted in the air like snakes slithering through tall grass. Your lips pressed into a thin line, if he had to name the look he’d call it unamused.

”Right,” you replied in a tone matching your expression, “and how are they doing in school?” Querying in that same passive tone that hid something predatory underneath as you started to gather the tickets and check off the log book.

”The thugs?” Suo retorted in disbelief, puffed through a breathy laugh - his serene mask broken. Your hands stilled as you zeroed in on the fracturing, cocking your head to look up at him.

”The kids.” Again, as the s hissed through your teeth, that string drew your brow up, your eyes growing half lidded and tired at the perceived density. 

”Oh.” Suo blinked, haunches smoothing down slightly. “Most are doing well - there’s a few who struggle in their respective subjects, like kids sometimes do.” He answered genuinely, though his sienna iris darted over your expression - trying to read your next move.

”Hm,” puffing air through your nose, nodding your head simply, you finished tying paper slips to the hangers in the garment bags. “Well, you’re all set,” you stated while patting the top of the bags. Suo blinked, a mix of fear and intrigue swirling in his chest - not yet wanting the interaction to end. Honestly he wanted to know if you had a problem with him, or if this was just your regular demeanor. 

“Is it alright if I take a look?” He requested calmly, to which you shot him a look of unbridled disbelief, so he quickly added, “not because I don’t trust your work. I’ve just never seen it - I handle drop off typically.” Your face smoothed at his explanation, but you only nodded at the bags in response. 

Suo gingerly unzipped the top bag and opened it to find an immaculate Furin uniform. It didn’t look like they had been sliced, or at least you hid the damage well enough. The biggest surprise was the button down shirt - blindingly white once again - he searched for the name tag to find it was a student who was notorious for being rough on his clothes. You stared at his shocked expression triumphantly, barely hiding the upturn at the corner of your mouth.

“How did you get it so white?” Murmuring as he looked back at you with an astonished expression, brows raised in question. The thought displayed plainly across his face: This is a mending shop, not a dry cleaner’s. 

“I took them home and cleaned them,” you said simply. Though your face clearly showed what you were thinking: ‘how else did you expect them to get cleaned’.

“But some of the stains were already set…” He noted incredulously, only growing more confused by your explanation.

“Family secret,” you offered with a nonchalant shrug. Suo just stared at you dumbfounded before puffing out a laugh with a shake of his head as he pulled out his wallet. When his finger and thumb were gripping his card, tugging it out halfway, you threw him a bewildered look. “What’re you doing?”

“Paying…?” Suo chuckled out awkwardly through a tight lipped smile, that serene mask transformed into something amused, but forced.

“Mm-mm, y’all don’t pay. It’s under the Bofurin Account,” you asserted while tapping the sign taped to the front of the register. It read: 

”Cover a Bofurin’s repairs! Donate a few yen with your purchase to cover the materials!”

Suo read the sign, and then re-read it for good measure. Sure the town supported them back in High School, but there was a new level of organization to it now.

“But what about the cost of labor?” He inquired, wallet and card still at the ready.

“Free.” You stated, as if it were obvious, while tucking the uniform back in the bag and tugging the zipper up. That’s when Suo noticed the slip of paper you tied to the hanger, immediately he reached out and turned it the other way so he could read it - forcing you to stop mid zip. 

“Tutoring?” He read the title out loud with the inflection of a question before glancing at you for another explanation.

“You said some of them were struggling, and some kids from different schools in the area have put together a tutoring program. This seemed the best way for me to get the word out to Furin.” You explained as you gently took the paper from his hand and laid it back in the bag, zipping it up the rest of the way.

“That’s very considerate, thank you,” he murmured, a little taken aback as he considered the possibility that perhaps you weren’t just giving him a hard time earlier. 

“No problem. Have a good day Mr. Suo,” you spoke in an assertive tone, nodding and gesturing to the bags that the transaction was complete.

“Right, have a good day.” He replied, a little solemn at how irked you seemed at his presence. But as he moved towards the door, garment bags laid over his arm, his curiosity got the better of him as he turned back to ask, “um, I hope I haven’t offended you in any way?”

“What do you mean?” Cross-questioning him with a slight shake of your head, that notch back in your brow.

“Well you don’t know me and we’ve never really had a conversation before, but you seem to have a lot of… unspoken opinions about the Bofurin alumni.” Suo explained slowly, that hot prickly feeling coursing over his skin again.

“I do know you - my brother talks about you all the time,” you claimed with a simple shrug while you put the logbook back on its shelf.

“Your brother?” Suo mumbled, more to himself than you, as he wracked his brain for who your brother could be.

“Riku L/N,” you offered, expression immediately softening at the mention of your sibling. Suo was suddenly struck with a memory from about 6 months ago of a rather loud young man that looked kind of like you who he taught “Beetle Style”.

“He really enjoys the training events you all hold, but he’s struggling in math, english, and just about any subject that isn’t fighting,” you explained with a small huff, followed by a slow sigh - the tension releasing from your shoulders. “It makes me wonder how many students are in the same boat. I guess I’m just a little worried for them…” you admitted in a softer tone. 

“I’m sorry if I came across a little,” you grimaced slightly at the ensuing word, “bitchy earlier.” Suo could tell the word tasted like bile in your mouth, and had to suppress a chuckle at the sight. 

“It’s alright, and you weren’t,” he assured you gently, turning back to the desk fully. “I understand where you’re coming from, it must feel weird to be protected by kids.” He offered gently, and you immediately nodded in agreement.

“It’s a lot safer here, which is why we moved in the first place, but I guess I just didn’t expect my little brother to be one of the people keeping us safe…” you swallowed thickly after the words spilled out - not intending to be so vulnerable with him.

“It’s hard not to think of all of them as my little brothers y’know?” You murmured quietly as you gestured at the garment bags still slung over his arm. Everything about you was softer now, and Suo couldn’t help but drink it in. The way your brow creased in worry, and how you nervously wrung your hands as you captured your bottom lip between your teeth. Your gaze focused on the bags, but he could tell that you were seeing the boys’ faces instead of the clothes.

“I feel the same way,” Suo declared gently, drawing your gaze back to the genuine smile tugging at his mouth. “We only graduated a couple of years ago, but we worry too. Our class is the one who pitched the training events so there’s at least a few alumni always in the area. The class who graduated before us are working towards bringing trade and apprenticeship programs back to our community. And the class that graduated before them is still networking with a few Universities in the area to bring back solid pathways from High School to college. That’s how a lot of our class was able to go off to school.” Expounding on the alumni’s efforts, Suo hoped it would quell some of your anxiety. 

“I-I’m really sorry,” you blurted out immediately, eyes wide as a vibrant pink bloomed across your cheeks, “I had no idea. I-I thought y’all were just teaching them how to fight,” you admitted sheepishly. He couldn’t help but laugh outright at the 180 in your demeanor.

“It’s alright. If your brother is mostly interested in fighting, then that’s probably all he’s told you about,” Suo remarked before elaborating further. “The training events are to make sure they won’t be overwhelmed by other teams, but we’ve been in their shoes. We want their lives to be easier than ours were too.”

“Oh God,” groaning as you covered your face in embarrassment, shaking your head. “I must’ve seemed so cold, I really am sorry,” your words were muffled by your palms. Suo suppressed his titters at your floundering behind his free hand.

“It’s really no big deal,” Suo spoke reassuringly as you peaked in between your fingers to see his serene smile. “Actually, we’re having another event in two weeks - you should come by with Riku. You’ll be able to see some other alumni and they’d be thrilled to tell you about the work they’ve been doing.” He suggested as you gradually lowered your hands to the counter to reveal a slightly intrigued expression.

“Are you sure that’d be okay?” You murmured, brows raised in slight apprehension.

“Would it be okay for the seamstress who’s been fixing all the boys' clothes - for free - to come to an event they were invited to?” Suo responded with another question and a coy smile. Your gaze cut to the counter as your cheeks burned from his teasing. “I think it’d be more than okay,” his sure tone brought your gaze back to his kind smile and half moon eye.

“Alright, I’ll be there,” you replied, nodding while flashing him a wide grin. A faint blush swept across Suo’s face as his heart stuttered at the sight.

“I can’t wait, have a good day Y/N.” He murmured, a touch of tenderness leaching into his tone as he moved towards the door once again. But as his fingers gripped the handle your soft timbre stopped him in his tracks.

“I hope you have a good day too, Mr. Suo,” you called after him, the moniker you used before sending a wave of heat through him as his cheeks became downright ruddy. He turned back to see a coy smile curving your lips this time as you took your seat at the machine. The rhythmic drumming filled the shop once again while the usually sure footed Suo stumbled back into the chilly air.

I got too excited and posted this request before adding my MDNI at the top. That is 100% on me! It has been added as of Jan 5, 2025.

Because this is an 18+ only blog I kindly request that you have an age indicator easily accessible on your blog prior to interacting with my posts (even the fluff ones). Please check out my pinned post if you have any questions about this, and my apologies for slacking on this one!

[crimeronan]

how did you name your original characters? trying to name some guys without getting distracted making a whole conlang again :/

unfortunately it Did involve getting distracted by worldbuilding. LMAO.

naming conventions are usually the first thing i pin down when i'm culturally worldbuilding bc their construction says a lot -- are there surnames? patrilineal, matrilineal, both? are people named after relatives? do people choose their own names? how common is changing a name? etc etc etc

i think it would be hard to hang out with a million trans people and NOT have a fascination with naming conventions leak into my writing.

so. oichen culture, which is where both ruby and sol are from, doesn't use traditional surnames. people are, for the most part, named for literal concepts & then translate those names literally across languages. if you're a functional parent in this society you're generally expected to name your kid after something that brings you joy/peace. it's a way of passing down bits of a parent's personality/values, which matters more than linear surnames.

ruby sunrise was named by a pair of insufferable morning people. honey fern (another important character) was named for the way sunlight falls across leaves in summer afternoons. winter solstice was named for the most loving and celebratory holiday in the oichen calendar, because when you're in a very northern country with bitterly cold winters, you Must celebrate the days getting longer. and getting together as family and friends is much more important in the dead months than at any other time. we made it to the end of the darkness!!!

sol, of course, now lives in a place with a very small oichen diaspora, at least compared to the rest of tachni's population. both "sol" and "winnie" are easy nicknames that make her sound less Foreign. she's spent years getting rid of her accent and assimilating and building a completely fake self.

so when she tells people her parents named her winter solstice because they sensed the empty ice in her, Most of them don't know enough to dispute it.

(ruby does. obviously.)

on the Other hand, tachnin names are Much more like typical 2020s suburban american names. sometimes literally (robert, nova, maddie, etc) and sometimes just in vibes (camde, adan, etc). because tachni is the heart of global commerce and capitalism and imperialism and whatnot.

so. feels thematically appropriate.

nova's name was chosen because i wanted something sky-related and light-related to contrast winter solstice.

devin is the only one i just named off the top of my head iirc. but conveniently the name has irish origins that mean "poet" and french origins that mean "divine." so it SOUNDS like i put a lot of thought into it.

"tach" as devin's surname is just the name given to every sad kid in the city with no parents. tach, ie: a ward of the state of tachni. yayyy.

moira tach was named to match devin -- moira is the anglicization of máire, which is the irish form of mary. we love divine women who are in hell. YAAAY.

and then when i'm naming Other supporting cast members, i've been working out cultural and ethnic backgrounds on a character-by-character basis. helps me figure out what other countries are in this whole fantasy world!

[ravenmacduff]

Sorry that I'm about to write a treatise on monsterfucking. But this post sparked that little obsessive part of my brain that needs to talk about it. So, I see monsterfucking in a couple of different ways. The most basic and simple is Monster HOT. Monsters are inherently sexy. And writers and directors *coughs Del Toro* recognize this and play into it. The Asset was designed to be attractive with a nice butt and kissable lips.

But we also have to ask why Monster HOT? Well, from my own experience as a trans woman, the monster is always portrayed as "the other". Myself and people like me are constantly demonized. They see us as dangerous. They call us predators, freaks, forced into this societal position where there are legitimately people afraid of us. (This goes for other marginalized identities too)

Afraid in the same way that they would be of a monster. And I think that's where a couple of my own ideas come into place. The first is empathy for the monster. In seeing ourselves in the monstrous, we want to reach out and offer love and affection. The same love and affection that we, ourselves need, and often don't receive. There's many horror movies where the monster just wants to be loved and in the end is rejected. Or killed based on societal fear.

King Kong is one story. It's represented in the final quote of the movie "It was beauty that killed the beast". Kong's love for Ann Darrow, which it's been a while, but I believe was rejected in the 1933 film, and accepted in the 2005 film. Kong always was "the other" (and was suggested in criticism of the film to represent blackness) to Ann Darrow, a conventionally attractive white woman. Kong's love of Ann represented the fears of interracial marriage at the time. Kong craved love, and society doomed him. As someone who is also othered doesn't it make sense to empathize with him?

Shape of Water, again also plays with this but more explicitly. Our Protag, Elisa is a disabled (mute) woman, her best friends are her black co-worker and her gay neighbour. All three are marginalized people. All three are shown to face discrimination throughout the film. Del Toro made sure that the fact these people were othered was text, rather than subtext. The main antagonist, Colonel Strickland, of the story is a white cishet man. His aggression, disregard for others and need for domination are extremely evident from his introduction. He's the kind of man who would be a protagonist in any other horror movie. Back to Elisa, it's her otherness that allows her to see the humanity within The Asset. The intelligence, the capability for love. In the end it's that love that saved both of them, while Colonel Strickland was doomed by his hate.

Those are just two examples of empathic monsters. For myself of course I want to love and be loved, and for a long time the fear of rejection for being a trans woman stopped me from truly achieving that. But I am loved and I'm loved by others like me. Who don't fear me because it found a different way to womanhood. And so of course I love monsters, because it shows I can be loved too.

My second thought about monsterfucking relates to a loss of control. Your powerlessness against a creature 10 times stronger than you. Who has all sorts of ways to make you submit. In other words a non-con kink. A kink that is often highly reviled because of its implications, but also very common. I believe the woman in the picture that I'm responding to is specifically referencing her own disgust with dub- or non-con.

Loss of control is a huge kink because many people, especially women feel like they always have to be in control. In control of their emotions, in control of any situation, in control of their sexuality, in control for their own safety. The point of being in control of our sexuality has been hammered in so intensely that to accept that we even have desires is hard. We're not supposed to want sex, we're supposed to deny ourselves. Slut shaming, attacks against women for being too sexual, all reinforce that a woman is not allowed to want for herself. We crave a release, to stop thinking all the time, to allow ourselves to want.

While heterosexual sex is so focused on the man, on the masculine penis, that a woman's pleasure is oft put to the side. You still have to think about others even when you want pleasure yourself.

Well, the monster doesn't care. The monster is going to give you exactly what you want have been denying yourself. This goes for men too. Louis from Interview with a Vampire is a good example. His bisexuality is frowned on by society, but Lestat doesn't care. Lestat is going to show Louis exactly what allowing himself to let go and accept pleasure is like. And for most of the movie Louis continues to try and deny himself, until he finally lets go and accepts who he is.

Speaking of vampires that brings me to my last point. Monsterfucking as a way to get power. And the clearest example I can think of this is Twilight. Bella, while attracted to Edward, was more interested in receiving the power Edward has, than Edward himself. She wanted to be a vampire and this was clear from the beginning. But Edward had to be all Mormon about it. There's many people who find power in the monstrous. To take a piece of the monstrous into yourself and thus gain the same power. And power is sexy.

Werewolves are shown as power through their physical prowress. It's very rare you see a lanky, malnourished werewolf. *Looks at a certain series with distain*

Idk I kinda rambled on. But those are my thoughts

Every day I am thankful to not be a TikTok user

[manias-wordcount]

Hi! I really love your writing style, and I was wondering if by any chance you are still doing oneshots related to Cowboy Bebop. I've been searching for days for one where Spike takes care of a sick reader, filled with fluffy and maybe with a little of Angst. Could you possibly make one? I love that kind of oneshots 😭

Sick Talk Hick-Hop (Spike Spiegel x Reader)

𝗔/𝗡: 𝗯𝗼𝗼𝗺! 𝗶 𝗱𝗲𝗰𝗶𝗱𝗲𝗱 𝘁𝗼 𝗰𝗼𝗺𝗯𝗶𝗻𝗲 𝗮𝗹𝗹 𝘁𝗵𝗲𝘀𝗲 𝘁𝗼𝗴𝗲𝘁𝗵𝗲𝗿 𝘀𝗶𝗻𝗰𝗲 𝘁𝗵𝗲𝘆 𝘄𝗲𝗿𝗲 𝘀𝗼 𝘀𝗶𝗺𝗶𝗹𝗮𝗿. 𝗯𝘂𝘁 𝗶 𝗵𝗼𝗽𝗲 𝘆'𝗮𝗹𝗹 𝗲𝗻𝗷𝗼𝘆 𝗵𝗲𝗵𝗲𝗵

𝘀𝗽𝗶𝗸𝗲 𝗹𝗼𝘃𝗲𝗿𝘀 𝗳𝗮𝗻𝗰𝗹𝘂𝗯 𝘁𝗮𝗴𝗹𝗶𝘀𝘁: @dogsandrocketsocks @pittbull-enthusiast @asuperconfusedgirl @rendartgrimson @abellaheart-blog @skylardarling @sachimz @roronoaism @itzmymelody

𝙒𝙖𝙣𝙩 𝙩𝙤 𝙧𝙚𝙖𝙙 𝙢𝙤𝙧𝙚? ⇒ 𝙈𝙖𝙨𝙩𝙚𝙧𝙡𝙞𝙨𝙩

𝙟𝙤𝙞𝙣 𝙢𝙮 𝙙𝙞𝙨𝙘𝙤𝙧𝙙 𝙨𝙚𝙧𝙫𝙚𝙧?

𝙗𝙪𝙮 𝙢𝙚 𝙖 𝙘𝙤𝙛𝙛𝙚𝙚?

There are very few times where he can use the word “hate” to refer to something about you. But those times exist.

For example, he hates seeing you with other men. To him, Jet’s the only exception to this rule. But let it be some other many chatting you up, Spike can’t help but be jealous. He can’t help but see red, even when you are trying to politely turn the guy down. He knows he can be a bit irrational about it. You’ve always been a pretty little thing. All sweet and all soft. It’s only given that others would fall for your charms- just the same way he had all that time ago. But he’s not going to hand you over to just any sleezebag. In fact, he’s not going to hand you over at all if he can help it. Not if he can help it.

But he also hates sending you off to do errands for the ship on your own. He knows you’re more than capable. You were living by yourself before you had joined the Bebop’s crew. But the areas that you used to live in were safer. While the places that the Bebop crew used to frequent were not. And he learned that the hard way when you came home in tears one day, covered in scratches and bruises after getting mugged on your way to the store. After that, Spike realized that as much as he enjoyed not having to run around and do Jet’s bidding, he liked to ensure that you’re coming home to him safe and sound and without even a single hair on your even being displaced even more.

But one thing he didn’t realize he had to add to that list of things he hated, was seeing you sick.

Especially like this.

“How you feeling, sweetheart?” Spike found himself uttering quietly after noticing you had just stirred from the latest little nap you had taken. You had made a soft noise in the back of your throat- something near silent and sweet- as you stretched your legs between his and cuddled up a little closer to him. It’s a sight he would have usually fawned over. A sight he would have been dreaming about for weeks and weeks. A sight that would have driven him crazy with just how adorable you’re being right now. But of course, he knows the full story. He knows what’s happening here.

He knows about the extent of your sickness and it’s not pretty. 

It was him who had found you in a corner of your room a couple of hours prior, in distress as you tried to blink back the tears and hide what was going on from him. You had just finished emptying the contents of your stomach into a trash can that you were too weak to even crawl away from. It wasn’t a pretty sight, but there was no chance in hell was leaving you there to fend for yourself. So it was him that got you out of there. It was him who did all the running around for all the medicine and food and drinks that you would need while Faye was helping you get cleaned up and into something more comfortable. And it was him who made sure once you were done in the bathroom, you had a safe place to recover. Full of all the blankets and snacks and love and care that you would need. 

His room, of course.

It was there that he could make sure that you had access to a mostly clean place. According to Jet, the sheets on your bed would need to be replaced and the surfaces in your room would need to be wiped down. And according to Faye, you probably wouldn’t want to be alone right now. But that was all the two of them had said before Jet had disappeared into the kitchen to fix you up something and Faye disappeared to… wherever the hell she decided to go. And that was the extent of what he knew about how to care for sick people. 

His method throughout life was always to brute force things. He rarely got sick or hurt. And when he did, he was always able to sleep or walk or drink it off. And when things got really bad, he somehow always had someone there to take care of him and to patch him up. The nurses at the syndicate. Jet. And you. Especially you.

But he couldn’t imagine you brute forcing your way through anything. You’re soft and sweet and drowning in the fabric of one of his t-shirts that Faye had dressed you in. You take medicine and you drink soup and you cry when someone finds you sick and struggling in your room because you wanted to keep things a secret so you wouldn’t be a burden. He couldn’t imagine you brute forcing your way through anything. Through this, even. And he hates the fact that before he found you, you clearly were going to try to.

But despite knowing very little about how to care for sick people, he knew this much. You needed to be comfortable. You needed to be safe. And you needed to be someplace clean. So he kept you in his room, where he could keep a pile full of medicine and water bottles and all the snacks that would be good for you right now just right by his bed. It allowed him to monitor you better- to know whenever your cold chills switched over to a randomly spiking fever and to know whenever you need something. It also allowed him and you to take advantage of the fact that between the two of you, he had the much bigger bed.

And that meant space to lay down in. More space for the two of you.

“I’m sorry, sweetheart,” He remembered saying to you when he first carried you from the bathroom to lay you down on his bed. He doesn’t know what he was apologizing for right then. Maybe it was because he didn’t get to you sooner. Maybe because he couldn’t offer you the same plush and soft comfort of your sweetly decorated room. Maybe it’s because you’re sick and he wants to take that away from you as soon as possible. He wants to make things easier for you. He wants you to recover as fast as he can. And he wants to take care of you. Just like how you take care of him. Just like how your very presence- your very existence- breathes life into him. But he’s a lousy nurse. And he doesn’t have the same caring touch that you do. “Can I get you anything? Water? More food?”

But he can be here for you. And maybe…just maybe that can be enough.

At his questions, you shake your head at him pitifully, eyes hazy, and gaze far away as you look in his direction sleepily. But you didn’t say anything. In fact, you hadn’t spoken much with him or Faye since he had found you a couple of hours earlier. And what little you were able to say always came out slow and heavy, like something was weighing down on both your tongue and brain at the same time- preventing you from thinking or speaking much. So instead, you just let out a pitiful whine as you reached for him again, not ready to apart just yet. And because your very existence has him whipped and ready to do just about anything for you, he found himself climbing into bed right next to you and pulling you into his arms as you pushed yourself right up next to him.

And there you both lay. There you both lay for hours. Legs tangle between each other. Your head on his chest. His hand combed through your hair. Your fingers gripping his shirt. And his eyes watching you carefully, looking for any signs of distress. The silence was broken only by an occasional question from him and a soft response from you. Sometimes he would hear you sniffle. Sometimes he would have to pass you a few tissues. And sometimes, you would rest your whole body weight on him as your eyes fluttered shut and you napped sporadically. Whenever you could get enough peace. 

And in those moments you were asleep, you would cling to him. Even tighter than before. You would whine if he moved his arm from around your waist. You would push yourself impossibly closer to him. You would mumble a little something here and there. And your face would relax. You would be still. You would breathe softly and consistently. You would be at peace. 

And for a moment, Spike would be able to forget that you’re here because you’re sick. For a moment, he would be able to forget how he found you. For a moment, he would forget that there was ever a time that he could use the word “hate” and be referring to something about you. Things would be okay. Things would be perfect. For as long as you were asleep. For as long as you were in his arms. For as long as you were in peace.

And while he might be a lousy nurse, he knows he’s a good fighter. He knows he is. He knows it. So while he can’t offer much to make your recovery go faster, he can protect these little moments of respite that you have. He can protect your peace. Because he would hate to see it go. Because he would hate to see you lose this.And because he hates the thought of you existing for even a moment without. Not if he can help it.

Not if he can help it.

[tamayula-hl]

TAMA IT'S YOUR DIFFERENT PERSPECTIVE WE WANT TO SEE!! It's no matter if cultural values are different - because the story you want to write is filtered through YOUR lens, the characters are interpreted through your lens only, a.k.a. you set the philosophical/cultural context of your story regardless of the original context your source material is based on. If you use your SebxOC dynamic (you have already explained her background in your OC posts), the dual cultural values will actually factor in your story in an extremely fitting manner.

I would really, really like to see things your way, or even how you interpet a foreign value system in your story. This is one of the reasons I think you don't need to be writing in English! I know it is discouraging to know people are losing the nuances of your work by putting it through a translator, because there are subtleties to every language which cannot be caught when translated ('male' and 'female' speech, choosing a level of distance/formality, relation of the individual self to the mass public etc.), but please know we will try to catch on as well as we can! Don't dilute your work for us, even if you feel the need to - it's the reader's job to interpret the text, not the author's to explain it!

I'm excited to read everything you write - writing is never useless in a fandom. You never know if what you write is exactly what someone wants to read!! GO TAMA!!

Aww, I'm really grateful and happy to receive such strong words of encouragement. Thank you so much🙇‍ I want to write a novel about the charm of the Wizarding World and HL characters seen through the perspective and values ​​of Sakurako, a typical Japanese person, and the dynamics of how a woman with Japanese values ​​interacts with Sebastian, and as you say, I think that if I were to write a novel in this fandom, I would have to use these differences in values ​​as a weapon.

And it was really encouraging to hear you say that I can just submit the novel in Japanese. However, if I take the time to write and post a novel, I want as many people as possible to read it, and considering that almost no one has read the Japanese novels I have posted in the past, I think I may need to translate the novel into English for my own sake 🥹

And because sentences that maintain the style of a Japanese novel will end up in English that are quite strange and incomprehensible even if I use DeepL or ChatGPT (mainly sentences that are considered more beautiful when omitting the subject, which is unique to Japanese, are a huge hurdle when translating into English), I think I will write Japanese sentences that are easy for machines to read, such as ChatGPT, and that clearly state the subject (and that are very strange and unrefined from a Japanese speaker's perspective).

Sentences that are refined as Japanese while retaining the unique nuances of a Japanese novel and sentences that are easy to translate into machine translation are completely different, and it is a very difficult choice to decide which one to discard. Should I post both the original Japanese version and the English translation? 🤣 Anyway, this language barrier is really bothering and bothering me.

If I had English skills, this problem would be almost solved, but I regret and feel ashamed that I didn't study English as hard as I could for the past two years. First of all, I'm going to start by writing out the lines that appear in HL's main quest line and Seb's quest line in English, reading their meanings, and memorizing them. 🥹 I have to continue studying art, and this is the beginning of days where I will have to cut down on my eating and sleeping time even more. 💪

[chappydev]

I don't really think they're like, as useful as people say, but there are genuine usecases I feel -- just not for the massive, public facing, plagiarism machine garbage fire ones. I don't work in enterprise, I work in game dev, so this goes off of what I have been told, but -- take a company like Oracle, for instance. Massive databases, massive codebases. People I know who work there have told me that their internally trained LLM is really good at parsing plain language questions about, say, where a function is, where a bit oif data is, etc., and outputing a legible answer. Yes, search machines can do this too, but if you've worked on massive datasets -- well, conventional search methods tend to perform rather poorly.

From people I know at Microsoft, there's an internal-use version of co-pilot weighted to favor internal MS answers that still will hallucinate, but it is also really good at explaining and parsing out code that has even the slightest of documentation, and can be good at reimplementing functions, or knowing where to call them, etc. I don't necessarily think this use of LLMs is great, but it *allegedly* works and I'm inclined to trust programmers on this subject (who are largely AI critical, at least wrt chatGPT and Midjourney etc), over "tech bros" who haven't programmed in years and are just execs.

I will say one thing that is consistent, and that I have actually witnessed myself; most working on enterprise code seem to indicate that LLMs are really good at writing boilerplate code (which isn't hard per se, bu t extremely tedious), and also really good at writing SQL queries. Which, that last one is fair. No one wants to write SQL queries.

To be clear, this isn't a defense of the "genAI" fad by any means. chatGPT is unreliable at best, and straight up making shit up at worst. Midjourney is stealing art and producing nonsense. Voice labs are undermining the rights of voice actors. But, as a programmer at least, I find the idea of how LLMs work to be quite interesting. They really are very advanced versions of old text parsers like you'd see in old games like ZORK, but instead of being tied to a prewritten lexicon, they can actually "understand" concepts.

I use "understand" in heavy quotes, but rather than being hardcoded to relate words to commands, they can connect input written in plain english (or other languages, but I'm sure it might struggle with some sufficiently different from english given that CompSci, even tech produced out of the west, is very english-centric) to concepts within a dataset and then tell you about the concepts it found in a way that's easy to parse and understand. The reason LLMs got hijacked by like, chatbots and such, is because the answers are so human-readable that, if you squint and turn your head, it almost looks like a human is talking to you.

I think that is conceptually rather interesting tech! Ofc, non LLM Machine Learning algos are also super useful and interesting - which is why I fight back against the use of the term AI. genAI is a little bit more accurate, but I like calling things what they are. AI is such an umbrella that includes things like machine learning algos that have existed for decades, and while I don't think MOST people are against those, I see people who see like, a machine learning tool from before the LLM craze (or someone using a different machine learning tool) and getting pushback as if they are doing genAI. To be clear, thats the fault of the marketing around LLMs and the tech bros pushing them, not the general public -- they were poorly educated, but on purpose by said PR lies.

Now, LLMs I think are way more limited in scope than tech CEOs want you to believe. They aren't the future of public internet searches (just look at google), or art creation, or serious research by any means. But, they're pretty good at searching large datasets (as long as there's no contradictory info), writing boilerplate functions, and SQL queries.

Honestly, if all they did was SQL queries, that'd be enough for me to be interested fuck that shit. (a little hyperbolic/sarcastic on that last part to be clear).

ur future nurse is using chapgpt to glide thru school u better take care of urself

[dramaticallytotal]

TDWT Headcanons: PT. 6

Part 1 Last Part

• Lindsay definitely is bringing some of her Admiral Lindsay Her Hotness attitude back for this season, just not as intense. She liked being respected for once, and she liked being relied on. So this season, she vowed she would find the in-between for herself.

• This season, she is even wearing a navy blue jacket that looks kind of like her admiral jacket along with a thick navy blue ribbon headband to replace her usual blue bandana.

• Heather actually has friends this season! Because as much as I love her Queen Bee, lone wolf thing, I think she deserves to make some friends. Leshawna is, of course, one. Harold is surprisingly another. And Noah.

• Leshawna and her have gotten closer, though there are still moments when they argue with each other. Harold respects her game, and they both relate to each other about their siblings, not liking them. It's sad, but it's nice to have someone relate to. Noah was a surprise for her, but it was a little after Action that he reached out and gave her his sister Nila's contact info since she knew what it was like to go from super long hair to short very abruptly. Plus, Nila had tips for growing her hair! Plus, plus, the two like to talk shit about other people with each other.

• It's why Heather hates Alejandro so much. Like, yeah, they need to try and pretend to have crushes on each other, but it's hard to do that when he got Harold to vote himself out. When he got Leshawana and her to fight worse than they ever have before, and when she could tell Noah had a crush on him and the guy flirted with him only to go and flirt with her. It created a lot of space between her and her favorite snark.

• No one is supposed to know about their separate deals with Chris to make the show more interesting, but some people have guessed who has a deal and who doesn't. Though Noah has guessed most of the deals, he doesn't know that Aleheather is scripted.

• Yes, Lindsay and Beth got attested in Paris, but not for what Celebrity Manhunt reported. She never touched the Mona Lisa, but Beth did trip over the ropes, and the security guard was yelling and Beth looked so scared, so Lindsay reacted, and by reacting, I mean , she slapped the security guard.

• Beth's mom, Clara, did bail them out because Lindsay's family were on their own vacations, and she couldn't get a hold of them. When they did hear what happened they of course, paid her back, but Lindsay felt like it's her responsibility to do it, so she agreed to pretend to forget what Tyler looks like and his name. It's to get the money to pay Clara back.

• Courtney, Noah, DJ, and Sierra are all published authors.

• Courtney writes guides on how to make study guides and other self-help type books. Noah writes video game guidebooks as well as coding books. He's actually paid to make the video game books. He's also a beta tester, but no one knows that. DJ writes cookbooks with his Momma. Sierra wrote, of course, books on Total Drama. Basically, guides for those just starting to watch. Like the who's who, the challenges, the teams, secret little Easter eggs she found.

• If Noah gets hurt during an episode, Chris makes sure to call his family and tell them how he's doing. He is friends with Noah's parents, so he feels like it's his duty to let them know how their kid is. (He definitely doesn't count himself in that 'their' no siree.)

• Alejandro is definitely trying his best to make the showmance happen, but every time he goes to flirt and make it seem like he and Heather have something going on, he gets distracted by Noah. Like the way he only wears his glasses when he's sure the cameras are off even though he looks positively adorable in them. Or the way he pouts when something in his book displeased him. Oh! Or the small smiles he gives Alejandro when he strikes up a conversation with the bookworm about his thoughts on books he himself has read.

• At some point, he does want to tell Noah that the showmance between him and Heather is just that, a showmance, but then London happened, and Noah was voted off, and maybe Alejandro feels guilty for letting his emotions take over seeing as Noah was actually a strong competitor.

• He also overheard Chris and Chef talking about how Noah had planned on getting voted out and how the kid did great! "I mean, he saw an opportunity and took it, Chef!"

• That's when he realizes that Noah had planned to get out and used him to do it. Now, normally, that would have probably pissed him off, but nope. It basically makes him swoon. He's whipped.

• Owen does actually hold a grudge against Alejandro for voting off his little buddy. (He doesn't know Noah was planning on it). Noah had told Owen that Alejandro didn't like being called Al before he left, and Owen knows his friend didn't tell him so Owen could mess with the guy. His little buddy told him and asked him to go easy with the nickname since he didn't want Owen to become a target. Target be damned! Owen made it his personal mission to call Alejandro, Al, as much as possible.

• Chris and Chef pseudo adopted Noah together, but Chef definitely pseudo adopted Izzy in his head.

• Izzy has shown Cody her hiding place she made in the vents for when he needs space. Look, she may be crazy but she draws the line at stalking/stalkers. (I know in her biography it says she's stalked boys, but I have elected to throw that out of my canon)

• Yes, Noah planned to get thrown off, but when he realized the producers/network wanted him to basically be a miracle worker after he was done with Aftermath, he was like, "What if...no? UwU" and wanted them to suffer, so he won his way back onto the show. Oh, he'll come back to his job after the show, but he expects a big raise.

• Trent feels bad about Noah being voted off because he finally realized that someone else was suspicious of Alejandro, but Noah told him to vote for him so he wouldn't be made a target. He made a real convincing argument, but Trent still felt bad.

• Trent is trying to lay low, but he does warn Gwen about his suspicions, but everything gets crazy with the cheating plot. Which pisses Trent off because he knows there is no way Gwen would cheat on anyone given what happened with her mom.

Next Part

[riinniies]

ITOSHI SAE X FEM! READER

Plot : Soulmate AU, Red string of fate.

Same universe as Tsundere Rin : Soulmate :))

Annoying Sae, Age up Sae (24 years old), oneshot, idk why i love sae even tho sometimes he's so annoying.. Sae and her really hate what's happening to them right now (I'm actually a little annoyed with sae so I made this fic).

No fluff just Sae and her argued in this fic.

My writings

I hope you like ittt ! <33

Unlike his younger brother, Sae would completely ignore his soulmate if he were to meet them right now. He had often heard or accidentally read about his brother's romantic soulmate stories. Everywhere he went, from the internet, to interviews, and even in magazines. Damn it.

To be honest, Sae was fed up, especially when people constantly compared him to his younger brother.

"His brother met his soulmate at 18, why is Sae still not with his soulmate?" a fan said during an interview that was aired on international TV. Sae felt irritated. Hello? Isn’t that normal? There are still many people who meet their soulmate after they turn 30.

Sae was only 24, but people were so noisy.

• • • •

"Sae, are you sure you want to take time off?" Sae’s manager asked with a shocked expression. Since childhood, Sae had never asked for times off, especially for something as long as this. What was really going on?

Sae sighed, staring blankly at his manager.

"Yeah. So what?" he replied irritably. Just figure it out for yourself why he wanted time off. He was tired of the reporters, his teammates, and so many others who kept asking or teasing him about his soulmate, whom he still hadn’t met.

Whatever, he was going to take a break and disappear somewhere to rest.

• • • •

However, like the world disagrees with his plan, damn it, why did he have to meet his soulmate now? At this very moment? At this damn time?

sae sighed when he realized that you and him were staring at each other, fuck it.

"I really hate this damn red string," Sae muttered.

• • • •

• POV Change

You were on vacation, trying to avoid something bad from happening.

But, damn it… you ended up meeting your soulmate. Well, it wasn’t too bad since you actually knew who your soulmate was.

"...Itoshi Sae?" you said, raising an eyebrow and then sighing. You stared at him, then sighed again.

Itoshi Sae, a name you were very familiar with. A world-class soccer player who had been famous since he was a child. Who would have thought someone like him would be your soulmate? Yeah, no one would have guessed that.

Sae stared at you with a look of disbelief, but there was also a hint of doubt in his eyes. Something he was trying to hide but failed at. There was an awkward tension in the air between you two. Of course, this meeting was unexpected for Sae, who preferred to avoid anything related to soulmates, especially during stressful times like this.

"You… know who I am?" Sae asked, his voice flat, but there was a slight tension in it. It was hard to tell what was more surprising— the fact that you knew him, or that you were actually his destined soulmate.

You nodded slowly, still a bit confused by the situation. "Yeah, who doesn’t know you? But I’m not sure if I should be happy or even more confused now."

Sae sighed deeply, his eyes briefly closing as if trying to control the emotions rising inside him. "Honestly, I don’t care about soulmates," he said quietly, as if speaking something he wished no one would hear. "I’ve been avoiding it all this time. But why... you? Why now?"

You could feel the frustration held back in Sae’s voice. He clearly wasn’t ready for this meeting, and that was understandable, given the amount of stress his life had been under lately. Since childhood, everything about him had been tied to high expectations, including the issue of soulmates.

But you also couldn’t blame Sae entirely. He was just a regular person who wanted to live his life without all this pressure. "Sae," you started carefully, "I know this is strange, and I’m sure you don’t want to be stuck in this situation. But it’s unavoidable. We’ve been brought together, whether we’re ready or not."

You feel weird saying something like that to someone you just met for the first time, you feel a bit weird, but what can you do? You also can't choose who will be your soulmate.

At least, you need to make him not gonna ignore you. Because if you have found your soulmate, you can't have a relationship—romantic relationship—with anyone else but your soulmate.

Unless, he dies.

Sae looked at you sharply, his expression still full of confusion and irritation. "I don’t know what to do," he said. "Everyone expects me to meet my soulmate, but I don’t care. I just want to live without the pressure."

You nodded, feeling a little hurt seeing how heavy the burden Sae had to bear was. "I understand, Sae. I didn’t ask to meet you like this. But… we have to find a way to deal with it, don’t we?"

At that moment, sae nods, he accepted it, even if it was just a little of acceptance. and you felt his eyes still held some tension. "I don't know what will happen next. But I won't run away. At least… I'll try."

You nodded, feeling a bit relieved even though the awkwardness wasn’t gone yet. But maybe this was the beginning of something unexpected—though both of you felt trapped by this strange fate.

"So, what now?" you asked, trying to lighten the mood.

Sae shrugged, as if unsure of what to do next. "I don’t know. But maybe… we could start by talking more. About anything other than soulmates."

You smiled a little, feeling slightly more at ease because he didn’t completely reject the idea. It seemed like this was just the beginning of a journey full of uncertainty—but at least, the two of you could try to walk through it together.

• • • •

As time passed, meeting with Sae didn’t get easier. In fact, the more you met, the clearer it became that Sae was truly difficult to communicate with—especially about anything related to soulmates. He tended to isolate himself and avoid every conversation about it, as if he was trying to shut himself off entirely.

"Do you seriously want to talk to me about this?" Sae asked, narrowing his eyes as if you were the biggest inconvenience in his life. He sat on the chair, relaxed, as if nothing mattered but himself. "I’ve had enough of soulmates. I just want to live a normal life."

You, who had tried to be patient, started to feel frustrated. It felt like talking to a wall. You’d tried to explain that this was fate and that maybe there was a reason why you two had met, but Sae still didn’t care.

"This isn’t about what you want, Sae," you said, your voice rising. "We can’t just ignore reality. I know you’re angry, but I don’t want to be stuck in this either. I’m just trying to make this easier, okay?"

Sae chuckled lightly, but it sounded more like mockery. "Easier? You think this is easy for me? Everyone wants to know about my soulmate, and now you show up with your innocent face, hoping I’ll change my mind? Don’t count on it."

You fell silent for a moment, staring at him in frustration. It felt like he was purposely making everything more complicated. "You’re really annoying, you know that?" you said finally, your voice full of irritation. "I know this is hard, but why fight against fate like this? Why make everything worse?"

'Even if I could choose, I wouldn't choose you.' You thought, annoyed.

Sae glared at you coldly. "Because I’m fed up, that’s why. I don’t want to live under other people��s expectations. I just want to live my life the way I want."

You could hardly hold back your anger. "But your life isn’t just yours, Sae! You’ve got people around you. And me—" you stopped for a moment, trying to calm yourself despite the pounding in your chest. "I’ve been patient enough with your frustrating attitude. Why can’t you be a little more open?"

Sae scoffed, straightening his back and then staring at you with an unreadable expression. "Maybe I’m just tired of all this. Everyone wants me to be something I don’t want to be."

"And what do you want, Sae?" you asked, frustrated. "Do you want to live without burdens? Do you want to escape this reality?"

Sae fell silent for a long time, as if searching for the right answer. Finally, he sighed heavily, as though he was tired of the endless debate.

"I don’t know," he said quietly, softer than before. "I don’t know what to do."

You were surprised to hear his voice so weak, not the usual confident tone he always had. For a moment, everything went quiet, and for the first time, you felt a little sorry for him.

"Don’t overdo it, Sae," you finally said, trying to ease the tension. "We’re both here, and maybe we should start from the beginning—even if it’s weird."

Sae looked at you with a softer expression, though the frustration was still visible on his face. "Maybe you’re right," he said quietly, as if admitting that he couldn’t keep avoiding the truth. "...I guess I need to start seeing this from a different perspective."

But even though his words sounded more open, you knew that the road ahead was still far from easy. Sae still had many barriers within himself to face, and you, though you were getting used to his frustrating attitude, were becoming increasingly annoyed.

Oh, you hope you and sae are getting the fucking better.

THE END.

|| Sae's annoying asses made me wanna kiss him so bad.. no nevermind i hate him rn (liar).

[wings-of-ink]

Anon Ask response below! Very slight chapter 5 "spoiler" info too.

I thought I'd respond this way since I've rather liked being able to respond in chunks throughout the ask! ^_^

I saw the ask about bear related nicknames for Oswin, and I imagined my own MC (Winfred, I had mentioned him before) trying to call him any of that. But it doesn't work for him. Mostly because Winfred is taller and broader than Oswin, so if anything, Winfred resembles a bear more. A teddy bear, perhaps, given how sweet and kind he is, but a bear nonetheless.

I remember your Winfred! I love that, lol. So Oswin can be the honey to Winfred's bear?

Also, on a similar line of thought, I always think it's hilarious but very cute how protective the group is of my MC. Because, sure, Winfred is in a terrible unfair situation. But they don't know that at the beginning (except for Oswin), and my MC surely doesn't look weak nor frail. So it's funny to read how they all want to protect him so much. Yet, it's also so endearing. Winfred is such a sunny kind of character, I do imagine he is hard not to love.

That is adorable. They are all convinced that no matter how someone appears, they deserve a hand up when faced with troubles. Zahn is like an angry kitten putting on a brave face for Winfred, lol.

Speaking of love (I know I'm rambling at this point, sorry), I am heartbroken for Winfred. Because he used the chance to confess his feelings, and Oswin stopped him. And I don't know how Winfred would process that. Not entirely at least.

I've seen that theme in a few asks. I completely feel that, it's valid for MC's to feel heartbroken or rejected. It'll play out though and on the way home, Winfred will get to figure out how he feels about that.

For one, I know he won't force the topic again. He is understanding that Oswin needs time to tell him everything, so he'll understand he doesn't have to speak about love with Oswin just yet. However, I do imagine he could end up feeling resigned. In the sense he would interpret Oswin refusal not as Oswin feeling guilty about being loved by him, but rather as a declaration of an obvious fact: Oswin doesn't love him (which we know it isn't true, but Winfred doesn't know that). And since my Winfred's heart is wholly devoted, entirely and irrevocably owned by Oswin... It means Winfred probably would accept he'll never experience romantic love.

Awe, he's really going to go through it then. That is sweet, and it sounds to me like they sort of love in the same deep way.

Now, this is tragic and all, but I do imagine a funny scenario where Winfred —convinced Oswin doesn't, can't and will not ever love him— will try to find a partner that could make Oswin happy. Assuming Winfred survives, of course. Mostly because Winfred loves Oswin so much, that he prefers to see him happy with someone else than miserable. And maybe, if Oswin finds someone to love, then if Winfred died he would not feel as much pain, or at least would have someone to support him... I realize this stopped being funny to turn sad, guess I'm too fond of angst to stop myself.

LOL It's a sweet notion even if there is an underlying sadness to it! Oswin would be so torn up about that too.

In any case, I know you released chapter 5 recently. But I feel I need more and want to read chapter 6 as soon as possible. Especially so because the conclusion of chapter 5 shattered my expectations of how the story was going to go. I expected the journey to last until MC found a cure, not that they would return home. And that's not taking about the magic stuff that's going on. There is so much to learn about this world, and I'm hooked.

I miiiight have an outline going already.... :D I am really excited to write it too! I need to make some corrections to chapter 5 of course still, but I can't help but outline 6 to satisfy the "itch." The trip home is just to re-group though, so never fear, Winfred will be off to find answers again after a plan is made. I'm glad you love learning more about the world too, because there's some really fun info coming up! ^_^

Of course, don't pressure yourself. And remember to drink water too.

No worries! I'm making sure to take pretty good breaks before I really get into writing like normal. Winter is a very sleepy time for me and I know my limits. When I feel the spark, I poke around in my documents though. And I always have my water thermos at the ready!

Have a nice day!

You too my dear! Thank you for stopping by and sharing your thoughts! ^_^

[phyyyyysics]

After finishing Doctor Who during Moffat's run, I think I see a pattern here for most (but not all) of his female characters choices in Doctor Who & Sherlock. I know people have already analyzed this before, but I want to do it myself so here we go.

There are primary three categories:

1. The first is the generic and the normal ones, according to him. Characters like Amy, Donna (silence in the library episode) from Doctor Who, Mary from Sherlock. These are the characters that will always stand with the good people, never straying, and whose life long dream is to settle down and have children. Mary of course is an outlier, because she had shot Sherlock and broke John's trust. But in the final season, it turned out that her hands had been forced, and she had been good all along.

For me, I think wanting to settle down to have a family of course is not necessarily a bad thing. I can't say for Mary and Amy because I couldn't relate to them personally, however, Donna's storyline in the Silence in the Library didn't sit well with me. When she was saved by the Computer, it sort of simulated a life that it thought she wanted. One where she had two beautiful children and a dotting husband. The problem here lies in the fact that she had been ridiculed and thought to be loud and brash and stupid all her life, and had been a temp for a long time. She literally ran to the TARDIS the second time she met the Doctor because she didn't like the life she had had, or the life her mom has been pressuring her to have. Can you see how reluctant she has been to pursue anything really? Do you really think her life-long dream, her secret desire is still to settle down and become a wife to someone? Maybe, but not before taking the chance to see the Universe with the Doctor. I actually have a feeling that finding a husband might have been on her list, but she could be doing that more out of obligation and societal expectations. Again, it's not a bad thing to want a family, but there's a recurring theme for his character choices that I can't help notice.

2. Second are the women who are smart and resourceful. These are the characters that are most of the time portrayed as sexy and intelligent, and most of all above all the others. Characters like Irene Adler and Mary (a little bit) in Sherlock, River and Clara in Doctor Who. I think there are many discussions we can have about the definition of strong, female, characters. However, I agree with many others that these women's lives all revolve around one man. And even if they are smart enough, we have to remember there will be one guy who can still tell them otherwise: which are Sherlock and the Doctor respectively.

3. The third type of women in Steven Moffat's writings are those who are too intelligent they become unpredictable and sometimes downright inhuman. Characters like Eurus in Sherlock, Missy in Doctor Who are in this category. They are extremely smart and morally questionable characters, and certainly, they have a lot of potential to explore. However, they are almost too smart that it becomes harder to relate to them. And since I don't think Moffat really knows how to deal with them, they are either put in a cage when they are being "naughty", or out of the cage at their male counterpart's side when they finally decide to stand with them, to be "good".

By the way, there is one addition that I think is relevant. It is fucking funny that with the way he wrote these women, they are most of the time too put together to really have any story to tell. From first glance, you wouldn't be able to really see what their backgrounds were like and what's on their minds, and as the story progressed nothing really developed. Since this is not good for story telling, he would give you some (in my opinion) unnecessary stories to compensate the lack of substances, such as family drama TM (the whole John and Mary arguments), or the boyfriend drama TM (why didn't you approve my choice of a boyfriend, Doctor? & OMG my boyfriend just been run over by cars because I said "I love you" to him). Those back and forth we didn't really see coming to distract us from the facts. However, this makes a lot of the stories feel disjointed and the time jump between episodes sometimes doesn't make sense. Also when the dramas are added, some audience (normally cis straight guys) can be like look, the main guys don't really care to deal with them and in comparison are way cooler, these girls just needed to be put in their places.

In conclusion, most of the women written by him are either categorized as:

(1) normal girls will -> get pregnant

(2) Smart & sexy powerful women will -> get beaten by the main character (who are always white, more superior and smarter)

(3) Unpredictable brainiacs (who deserve better) will-> get put into dungeons and cages 'cause they are crazy and "bad" (as in their beliefs are not aligned with the hero's). Oh and sometimes they can be sexy, too

[triglycercule]

horror is so BLESSED he's the only one out of the murder time trio that has actual good people trying to influence his story 💔💔 dust and killer were both driven to INSANITY because of the choices of their respective humans but horror??? every time without FAIL the polls for horrortale's plotline have always ended in a good place for aliza (either by bettering her relationships/reputation or for her to just. not DIE)

horrortale's potential alternate timelines my beLOVEd🙏🙏 they're SO lucky that we're being kind and benevolent hehe (≧ω≦) now where are the aus based off the possible different outcomes that could've happened in horrortale HUH???? (like how aliza couldve killed toriel or chosen horror's puzzle or gone with undyne to the core........)

[zepskies]

Oooh I'm just gonna dive RIGHT in!!

As he impatiently watched a set of doors once more, he pondered if he was still seeing things clearly or if his kooky mind was playing tricks on him. Adjusting to civilian life wasn’t always easy.

Loll I'm loving how you're writing his internal monologue -- matches his quirky personality well. 😂

Ever wondered why there was so much street construction seemingly everywhere and yet America’s roads were still full of potholes? Russell didn’t.

Again, lmao great personality color, and so freakin' relatable!

“Are you fucking insane?” You stormed towards him, shoving his chest. Whoa, broad! Shit, what had he done? Spent more time at the gym? “No, wait, don’t say anything. I already know the answer to that one!” “I’ll second that,” Colter chimed in with a groan and dusted off his jeans.

LOLL. That's so very Colter. 😂

Full disclosure: There might have been a little bit of a plan. Just tiny, really. Not worth mentioning at all.

Riiiiight. Not at all. lol

There had never been a day in your relationship where you had denied that man a thing – till that last day at least.

Ooooh more questions, more questionssss!

“We worked together when we were both stationed in Baghdad. You know how it goes. We met, and a couple of hours later, we were doing it on the kitchen island of some safe house.” Well, alright, that was braggy. There was a lot more going on than that. Best night of his life, really. But Russell considered it classified.

LMAO. Classified, indeed. 😏 Can I hope for one of your legendary flashbacks in the future??

“Oh, not the UFOs again,” Colter sighed with a shake of his head. “It’s UAP, man. U… A… P,” Russell corrected him once again and let the last letter pop from his lips for emphasis.

Get that nomenclature right, Colter. 😂 But omg I love the brotherly teasing -- Russ just HAD to bring up Reenie multiple times, didn't he? It's feeling very much The Misadventures of Russ and Colter, and I'm so here for it. 🤣

“Well, lookey, what do we have here.” Russell’s eyes zoned in on a plate of apple pie, rubbing his palms in delight.

Of COURSE he's an apple pie fan. Love that little Deanism. 🥧

He was hairier than you remembered. That you knew for sure. If you went back even further, he was also a lot broader, too. When you’d met, he was just a kid – as were you. It was only in the last few years of your relationship that he started to gain some serious muscle and really began to fill out his uniform. And all of a sudden, the tall and broad-shouldered soldier became more threatening – and more protective.

Oooh do tell. 😏 But really, it's clear these two have a long history. (Also, not the "midlife crisis beard" 🤣)

But OMG they were married?!!! And why would she send the papers just to get his attention? Good Lord, so many questions...

A part of you thought this day would never come, so maybe Colter being here was indeed a show of good faith and Russell was finally, finally dealing with his shit.

Ahh, makes sense. It tracks that Russ would be hard to pry open, even to someone he loves and has been in such close quarters with him for such a long time. (LOL Denver Airport. 👌🏽)

“I know. But… he kinda was yours too, right?” Russell’s green eyes meeting yours confirmed your statement. “He still talks about you on his good days. God knows you couldn’t throw a football before you met him.” “Hey, that’s not true. I could throw the old pigskin around perfectly fine,” Russell defended.

Just layers and layers of history between these two. It's so sweet to think Russ had a surrogate dad that actually treated him like a normal kid, teaching him how to throw a football, etc.

Fighting the tears in your eyes, you forced a smile to your lips. “He’s good. He’s a sweet boy. Keeps asking questions about his daddy that I don’t know how to answer…” you scoffed humorlessly but decided to forgo the pettiness. It would be so easy to be mad at him, but not even on your darkest days could you do it. “He’s starting school this fall.”

Oh my GODD. They have a son together too?? What the hell happened between them? She left and took their son with her?

He knew if he continued talking about what he’d missed, he wouldn’t make it out of that chicken coop for the next several hours, sobbing uncontrollably in the hay with the hens.

My heart is truly breaking for him, and now I need to know what the hell he did to make her actually leave him, even though they have two kids. 😭😭

True to typical Wayne, this is an intricate cobweb of a story, Russell AND the reader are infinitely complex, and I'm very interested to see where you take this from here. 💜

The Exit Strategy – Part 2

Summary: Russell is ready to hang it all up and retire, open up a brewery, and enjoy the rest of his civilian life. However, there’s one important thing missing before he can take the big plunge. Luckily, he knows just the right person to help him find it.

Pairing: Russell Shaw x Female!Reader

Warnings: +18, language, minor injuries, a bit of angst, hurt/comfort, fluff, a reunion, more secrets and revelations 😉

Word Count: 6.3k

A/N: Guess, the cat's outta the bag! Couldn't reveal too much about the reader beforehand without ruining the surprise now, could I? ��� Cozy up in your favorite chair with eggnog. Hope you have some lovely holidays, guys ❤️

Main Masterlist || Series Masterlist || Tag List

Part 2: This Is a Russell Mission

If Russell hated one thing in this world, it was playing The Waiting Game. The thought of being helplessly stuck inside a car with his hands metaphorically tied behind his back nearly wrecked his sanity. Well, whatever was left of it, anyways.

Colter had a point. Russell knew he could be a little paranoid sometimes, but considering everything he’d seen and done in his life, who could honestly blame him? It was only natural to feel a certain level of paranoia in his particular line of work. It kept him on his toes and, therefore, alive.

But maybe it had nothing to do with the job as he had always told himself. It might have been just a family trait he had inherited. And, well, he hated that fact even more than The Waiting Game.

As he impatiently watched a set of doors once more, he pondered if he was still seeing things clearly or if his kooky mind was playing tricks on him. Adjusting to civilian life wasn’t always easy.

What normal people would see as a perfectly nice, faithful woman picking up mail from the post office, Russell saw as a dead-drop pick-up.

There was a construction crew about three hundred yards to his right that seemed to be on constant break by their lack of work ethic. They also took turns to watch the supermarket closely. Ever wondered why there was so much street construction seemingly everywhere and yet America’s roads were still full of potholes? Russell didn’t.

And then, there was the cashier who handed you a flyer of some sort, which you accepted with a polite smile and stuffed in your purse. Live drop, Russell noted as he watched you walk out of the store hand in hand with your supposed husband.

It was all so abundantly clear to him, he almost couldn’t believe no one else could see it. It certainly worried him that Colter couldn’t.

What if…

What if he was in fact seeing things? Things that weren’t actually there. Ghosts of his past. No drops, live or dead. No secret surveillance in disguises. No fake husband – just a very real one.

Was that even legal? He figured it was under your new identity.

Russell shook the uncomfortable thought out of his mind and concentrated back on you. You stopped short by a row of shopping carts, exchanged a few words with your “husband”, and headed back inside. His little brother, of course, was hot on your tail, following you back in too.

That was when several alarm bells went off in Russell’s body. His head felt like the Liberty Bell on the Fourth of July. Experience told him: If it smelled like an ambush, it usually was.

Jumping into gear, Russell’s gaze snapped to your husband, who not only unloaded the groceries into the trunk of the car but also loaded a pistol and hid it underneath his sweater vest before heading toward the supermarket again.

Russell sprung into action rather quickly then, snatching his own semi-automatic from the glove compartment. Soon enough, he heard two familiar voices flowing out from a back alley behind the main building. There was no doubt in his mind that it was you and Colter.

As he rounded the corner, he had to stifle a laugh once he saw his little brother down on the ground, straddled by your legs. Russell had found himself in similar positions with you, but they had been mostly out of pleasure.

“If it helps, my name is Colter. Colter Sh–”

“Shaw.”

Russell watched as your hold on his brother swayed and shock claimed your expression.

“Hiya, sweetheart,” he greeted your eyes with a cheeky smile as warmth spread through his heart.

Fuck, he had missed you.

“Russell?!”

Your jaw had fully dislodged itself as you slowly got back onto your feet and let go of your prisoner. But the shock of seeing your ex here of all places didn’t last long till it made way for your anger.

“Are you fucking insane?” You stormed towards him, shoving his chest. Whoa, broad! Shit, what had he done? Spent more time at the gym? “No, wait, don’t say anything. I already know the answer to that one!”

“I’ll second that,” Colter chimed in with a groan and dusted off his jeans. He stretched his sore muscles briefly before glaring at his older brother, who only offered him an apologetic smile and a half-assed shrug of one shoulder.

“Did you tell him to follow me?” you asked and pointed an accusatory finger at his younger brother while still glaring daggers at Russell. The similarity between them suddenly struck you, and you cursed yourself for not putting the puzzle pieces together sooner. “What was the plan here, huh?”

“Oh, trust me, he had no plan,” Colter muttered sourly, still recovering from your attack.

Russell clicked his tongue and sighed, scratching the back of his neck. “Look, he’s right. There wasn’t a plan. I just-… I had to see you. But once I did, well… here we are.”

Full disclosure: There might have been a little bit of a plan. Just tiny, really. Not worth mentioning at all.

You scoffed and shook your head. “You, of all people, should know better. You could’ve blown our cover. Months of work down the drain…”

“I think your cover’s still good,” Russell assured you with that same old lazy grin of his that was scarily charming and glanced at your partner. “Might wanna call off the cavalry, though.”

You shared a look with Tom, your partner during this mission.

“I’ll signal them. Clean up here,” he said, unamused, and disappeared back to the parking lot.

“Road crew in front of the store?” was all Russell asked. You confirmed it with a simple nod. Internally, he celebrated his little win. His instincts were still intact.

You exhaled a deep breath and threw your hands up. You had been so incredibly relaxed before that menace of a man waltzed back into your life – with a goddamn wrecking ball, no less. Now, the tension was crawling back into your shoulders.

“Russ, what the hell?”

Your question wasn’t filled with anger, however. You were just exhausted by today’s surprising turn of events. The life of a spy…

And probably the life with Russell, too.

“I know. I know, okay?” Russell held up two placating hands. Large hands. Warm. “Can we just talk? Somewhere… I don’t know.”

With some reservations, you still nodded. “There’s a church picnic at First Presbyterian tomorrow. It starts at one. We can talk there.”

There had never been a day in your relationship where you had denied that man a thing – till that last day at least.

“Church picnic?” Russell cocked a brow but was only met with your glare.

“Don’t mock. Be there,” you told him firmly and walked back inside the building. You still had to buy that damn milk. Covers were complicated to maintain – much like relationships.

Once you were out of sight, Russell let out a long sigh of relief, followed by a laugh of happiness. Step One was done. Only when the high of his meeting with you subsided, did he notice his brother’s exasperation.

Colter threw his hands in the air and stared at his sibling with incredulous eyes. “What the hell, Russell? What was that, man?”

“Right, yeah.” Russell bobbed his head calmly, smacking his lips. He knew he owed Colter an explanation at this stage of the mission.

“So, I’m guessing she’s not an old Army buddy of yours,” the younger Shaw started.

“No, not quite. She’s in the CIA,” Russell explained at last. He couldn’t help the grin. He was sure Colter would laugh about it eventually, too. Well, here was to hoping he would. “We worked together when we were both stationed in Baghdad. You know how it goes. We met, and a couple of hours later, we were doing it on the kitchen island of some safe house.”

Well, alright, that was braggy. There was a lot more going on than that. Best night of his life, really. But Russell considered it classified.

“Romantic,” Colter scoffed with sarcasm lacing his voice. Honestly, a part of him was happy for Russell. Another part, though, was incredibly furious for obvious reasons. “But I’m sorry – you had me stalk a CIA operative? During, what I assume is, some elaborate undercover mission?”

“It’s actually not that elaborate,” Russell quipped with amusement. “You shoulda seen half the things I’ve seen her do, so…”

“Oh, hilarious!” Colter shook his head at his childish brother. “Are you nuts?!”

“I think we’ve already established that,” Russell chuckled.

“You know, if Reenie finds out about this, she’s gonna kill me,” Colter said, and Russell swore his brother seemed close to breaking into a sweat. “Oh, you think this is still funny, huh? Guess who she’s gonna kill right after? You.”

Russell rolled his eyes at the unnecessary theatrics. “She’s not gonna find out unless you tell her, brother.”

With pursed lips, Colter nodded in defeat. “Can’t say I like you a lot right now, Russell.”

His older brother only snorted a laugh in response. “Oh, c’mon!”

“You probably would find it less funny if you had been beaten up by a 5’4” woman,” Colter continued and pressed a hand to his ribcage, wincing. “Yeah, pretty sure she cracked a rib or two…”

“Don’t be a baby. Soldier up! You’re fine.” Russell patted his back roughly and inspected the swelling nose for good measure, causing Colter to groan in pain once more. “And by the way, pretty sure she’s only 5’3”.”

“What?! No! She’s at least… 5’4”, okay? Probably even 5’5”,” Colter argued, following Russell back to the truck.

Russell’s lips rose to a teasing smirk. “Yeah, you keep telling yourself whatever gets you to sleep at night, little brother.”

“I will, thank you,” Colter deadpanned and unlocked the car. “So, you’re gonna go to this church picnic thing tomorrow?”

“Oh, no, not just me. We are going to this church picnic thing tomorrow,” Russell said with a cheeky grin and slid into the passenger seat.

“Well, you know, technically, I’ve already… found her. This is usually where my job ends,” Colter said with a tight smile and popped the key into the ignition.

“Yeah, well, not this time,” Russell replied, chuckling. “This ain’t a Colter mission. This is a Russell mission.”

“Oh, I got that, yeah. Thank you,” Colter said with a laugh that made his bruised ribs ache. “You know, you could’ve at least told me she was in the CIA.”

“Yeah, probably. But this was more fun,” Russell grinned.

“Did you know this whole time this was a clandestine operation?”

Russell sheepishly twitched his shoulders. “Well, not when we first got to town, but once I saw her in that outfit, I had a pretty strong inkling. I’m tellin’ ya, even if she had changed her entire life and personality, there’s no way she would have accepted Jesus Christ as her Lord and savior. I mean, maybe if she suffered a traumatic brain injury…” Russell mused and then grinned. “Or if she got abducted by aliens!”

“Oh, not the UFOs again,” Colter sighed with a shake of his head.

“It’s UAP, man. U… A… P,” Russell corrected him once again and let the last letter pop from his lips for emphasis.

“Uh-huh… Did you even need me for this?” Colter leaned back against his seat and quirked an eyebrow.

“Hell yeah!” Russell assured eagerly before changing course. He dialed his enthusiasm back a little. “Well, honestly, I just needed your op analyst. I could’ve used one of my guys, but then that would’ve flagged it with someone upstairs, so… But c’mon! This was fun, right?”

“I don’t know, Russell. I usually prefer my fun to look a little different,” Colter deadpanned.

“With Reenie?” Russell wagged his eyebrows. The huge smirk on his face spoke volumes.

“Would you stop?!”

“‘Sides, this is nice, isn’t it? Us… hanging out?” Russell’s sly grin then morphed into a much softer and genuine smile.

“I guess, yeah,” Colter reluctantly agreed and shrugged his shoulders. But the tiny smile on his face wasn’t missed by Russell.

“Alright, let’s get some fuel,” Russell announced and playfully slapped his brother’s chest. “I’m starving. We also need to find a place where we can park that Airstream of yours. Maybe get a nice fire going, drink a few…”

“What is this? A sleepover? Did you just invite yourself?” Colter really wasn’t used to family members dropping in like this, but he couldn’t deny that it felt sort of nice, too.

“Yeah, I am. I mean, you didn’t offer. Would’ve been the polite thing, you know, considering I saved your ass last time,” Russell retorted puckishly.

Colter exhaled a humorous breath, shaking his head with a chuckle. “Alright, okay… Consider yourself invited.”

“See? Wasn’t so hard now, was it?”

Russell’s nerves leaped through the roof as he set foot onto the church grounds. A part of him expected his boot soles to leave burn marks in their wake on the perfectly green and trimmed lawn, considering his extensive list of sins.

Families, children, couples, and the elderly had all gathered in front of the church. There were picnic tables, blankets, even balloons and a banner. His green eyes, however, landed on the giant buffet, his mouth already beginning to water.

That’s also where he spotted you, handing out cupcakes and slices of pie with a pious smile on your face. Your hair was stuck behind your ears, a headband keeping it tightly in place. Your dress looked the same, only the flower pattern varied, with a tight cardigan around your shoulders that hid any naked skin.

Deceptively innocent, Russell thought, causing his mouth to water for a different reason.

“You okay? You nervous?” Colter checked with a curiously raised brow.

“Nervous? Me? No.” Russell gave a quick shake of his head, but his eyes were transfixed on you. “Gotta admit. That outfit’s doing something to me, though.”

Colter patted his shoulder blade. “Yeah, might wanna keep it in your pants, Russ. Pretty sure you get kicked out for impure thoughts.”

Russell snorted a laugh. “Yeah, probably.”

The Shaw brothers then made their way over to your stand. Russell’s heart thumped louder with every new step he took towards you. And once he was so close he could smell your irresistible perfume, his smile only widened.

You, on the other hand, played your role flawlessly and pretended you didn’t know either brother in front of you. Your brows knit in question, but your devout smile remained the same.

“Gentlemen, how can I help you? I don’t think I’ve seen you here before,” you said and subtly gestured your head to the pastor next to you.

Russell’s brow raised in understanding. He cleared his throat. “Oh, me and my brother just moved here. Looking for a new church. Heard this is the place,” he stated loud enough for the pastor to hear. “You know, we are very devout Christians. I mean, especially my brother here. If he doesn’t pray at least ten times a day, he gets real cranky.”

Colter threw him a look but decided to play along. “Oh, yeah, I just-… I hate that. Can’t pray enough, right?”

“Amen,” you said with all the sincerity you could muster. On the inside, however, you were bursting with laughter. Leave it to Russell to make you smile brighter than the sun.

“Well, you’ve certainly come to the right place,” the pastor chimed in with a cheerful smile that spelled kumbaya all the way through as he shook the brothers’ hands. “I’m Pastor Jeff. Welcome to our little congregation, folks.”

“God can never have enough sheep, am I right?” Russell quipped and wondered how long you’d already been undercover, playing your dutiful role as a Christian housewife. Five sentences in, and he already was at his limit.

“That’s right!” The pastor grinned broadly. “Please help yourselves to our delicious buffet.”

“Well, lookey, what do we have here.” Russell’s eyes zoned in on a plate of apple pie, rubbing his palms in delight.

“Oh, you have to try the pie,” the pastor eagerly suggested and put an arm around your shoulders. “Our Nora here is an excellent baker. Her desserts are a real trend in our community. It is downright sinful. But shhhh, don’t tell the big man upstairs.”

“Secret’s safe with me, pastor,” Russell grinned slyly before meeting your eyes for the briefest second. “Say, do you do marriage counseling too?”

The glare you shot him had enough power to kill him from afar. You might as well have ordered a missile strike on him.

“Oh, my, yes, of course!” the pastor eagerly replied, causing your frown to deepen. “Are you married? Having a little trouble with the missus?”

“You could say that,” Russell earnestly played along and propped up his hands on his hips. “Everything was going fine, you know? And then one morning, just whoosh, gone. No explanation, no letter, no anonymous call from a pay phone…”

“Wow…” The pastor was stunned and enthralled by Russell’s colorful storytelling at the same time. You weren’t, however.

“Well, I’m so sorry to hear that,” you feigned your sympathies with tight lips and a fierce glare at your former lover. “But you know what they say, the Lord giveth and he taketh away…”

“You know, Nora here is right. Our Lord does work in mysterious ways,” the pastor chimed in agreement.

“Amen, Pastor Jeff,” you said, smiling contentiously. “Do you have any idea why your wife left?”

“Oh, I’m afraid she’s as mysterious as the Lord,” Russell replied.

Crossing your arms over your chest, you forced a tight smile. “I don’t mean to overstep, but it sounds like someone was having a little trouble with commitment.”

“It does,” Pastor Jeff agreed. “Why do you think that is?”

Clearing his throat uncomfortably, Russell’s head bobbed, his tongue poking the insides of his cheeks. He was definitely feeling a spotlight on him. Even Colter seemed to curiously lean in. Then, the oldest Shaw clicked his tongue. “Rough childhood.”

Amused, Colter scoffed under his breath behind him. “You could say that.”

“Oh no.” The pastor sent the brothers a pitying look and turned his attention to the younger Shaw. “And what do you do?”

“Oh, uh… Well, before I moved in with my brother here, I lived in a trailer and traveled all over the country.”

“Sounds… lonely,” Pastor Jeff stated worriedly.

“Yeah, this one is a big lone wolf. He has commitment issues too,” Russell replied, earning him a scolding look from his brother.

“Uh, I don’t think we need to overshare, Russ.” Colter gave an awkward smile, turning to you and Pastor Jeff. “He’s kidding. I don’t have commitment issues.”

“It’s a sin to lie, Colter,” Russ noted. His tone was serious, but the twinkle in his green eyes was impish.

“What happened to your face there?” The pastor cocked his head and inspected the younger Shaw’s injuries.

Oof, he looked rough. The skin under his eyes and bridge of his nose were swollen and bruised, ranging in color from blue, purple to black. A thin burgundy line also graced his throat. You had done quite a number on him.

You should kick Russell’s ass for setting you both up like this. Who would do this to their little brother?

“Uh, you know, moving boxes…” Colter stammered with a shift of his weight from one foot to the other, pursing his lips.

Russell was a better liar than him, you noted.

“Yup, walked straight into one of those wood planks,” Russell added, oozing just the right amount of charm and humor to wrap the pastor around his finger. “Tiny thing, honestly, but still got him good.”

Oh, he was so proud of that too, you could tell. He smirked right at you. Well, they were both terrible liars.

“Not that tiny. Big, big plank,” Colter corrected. Apparently, you had bruised his ego, too. “Lucky to be alive, really.”

Yeah, he really was.

“Well, speaking of taking things away, I still have to get the eggs from the chickens,” you said, segueing the conversation to an exit strategy. “Excuse me.”

“Oh, you have chickens here?” Russell enthusiastically slapped Colter’s arm. “Did you hear that? They have chickens.”

“Yeah, uh, very exciting,” Colter said, subtly clearing his throat.

“We’ve always wanted chickens,” Russell clarified for the pastor, joining you by your side as you rounded the table. It wasn’t true, though. The brothers actually had a chicken coop at the cabin when they were kids and hated it. The hens were noisy, the rooster was the worst, and it was always a mess to clean up. “I love those clucking little buggers. And now that we have a big backyard… Mind if I come along and check out your setup?”

“Not at all,” you replied with a friendly smile.

“Great. Be right back,” Russell told his brother, hurrying after you before he eloquently made a U-turn back to the stand and grabbed a plate of pie.

“Take your time,” Colter said through a pressed smile, although he wondered how long he’d be stuck here for with the pastor and your fake husband.

“Clear,” you said and held the creaking wooden door of the coop open for Russell to follow inside. As soon as it fell shut behind you two, you crossed your arms. “Okay, talk.”

“What? Here? Now?” With squinted eyes and a cocked brow, Russell looked around the small and dark space full of farm fowl, hay, and feathers.

You threw your arms up in exasperation. “You said you wanted to talk, so talk. What’s wrong with this place?”

“Nothing,” Russell said timidly and swallowed. He scratched the back of his neck. “You know, I just imagined this conversation a thousand times in my head, and it never happened in a chicken coop on church grounds.”

“Adorable,” you commented unamused, your brow knitting even more.

“All I’m sayin’ is, this just takes some time gettin’ used to…”

“Get used to it faster.”

Russell sighed. Then you did.

You softened your stance, crossed arms falling freely to your sides. “I’ve missed you,” you said earnestly and gifted him a small smile, taking in his changed appearance for the first time in detail.

He was hairier than you remembered. That you knew for sure. If you went back even further, he was also a lot broader, too. When you’d met, he was just a kid – as were you. It was only in the last few years of your relationship that he started to gain some serious muscle and really began to fill out his uniform. And all of a sudden, the tall and broad-shouldered soldier became more threatening – and more protective.

Now, clean-shaven, young, somewhat naive, and rule-following was replaced by a rebellious, midlife-crisis beard and the matching hair.

Ah, the t-shirt… Mötley Crüe. He found that thing eleven years ago at a thrift store in Arizona. It had a (bullet) hole on the left side of his lower back that you had patched – thrice. Once even with teething floss in a tent.

“How have you been?”

Russell’s head bobbed. He shrugged. “So-so.” Then he smiled. Soft and warm. The first few rays of sunshine on frozen winter skin. “I’ve missed you, too.” Then, the smile disappeared from his lips, replaced by contempt. “Got your divorce papers. Not signing them, by the way.”

“Good.” You smiled weakly. “I didn’t want you to sign them. I just sent them to get your attention.”

The relief that surged through Russell’s body was ineffable. For months, he thought he’d lost you – that you’d finally given up on him for good.

“How’s the new job working out?”

Russell’s lips drew a smirk, flirtatious charm glimmering in his forest green eyes. “What, you keeping tabs on me, sweetheart?”

You matched his expression. “Who do you think recommended you, huh?”

Russell stumped for a beat. His lips pursed, eyebrows drawing into a wondering v. “Well, they said someone did. Just didn’t think it was you.”

All this time, he’d believed you had crossed him out of your mind with a red pen as soon as you’d walked out the door that very morning.

“I told you. I’ll always look out for you,” you replied simply, a caring smile dancing on your lips. “So? Did it help? Are you any closer?”

“Yeah, guess so…” He paused for a moment, his gaze focused on the tips of his boots as he thought. “Not sure it was worth it, though. Actually, I’m fucking sure it wasn’t.”

You exhaled a long breath. You knew this day would come eventually. You knew he’d come back for you. Granted, you had expected him on your goddamn doorstep years ago, but he never showed. Sending divorce papers was a last resort in hopes he’d wake up then. That had been nine months ago.

“Why are you here, Russ?”

“Things have changed.”

Ah. That made things perfectly clear.

Lifting a brow, you crossed your arms again. “Is that why you brought your little brother along? As a show of good faith?”

“Kinda.”

“Poor Colter… How’s his nose?”

Russell wiped your sincere concerns away with a shrug. “He’ll be fine. Don’t worry about it. Just a scratch.”

Just a scratch…

“It’s weird… seeing you two together,” you said. For more than fifteen years, you had wondered. A part of you thought this day would never come, so maybe Colter being here was indeed a show of good faith and Russell was finally, finally dealing with his shit.

That man could easily fill the Denver airport with his baggage.

“You look good,” you noted. You were trained to control your heartbeat, but he had always made your job harder. “Different.”

His fingers brushed his beard as if to emphasize the newness. “Yeah? You like it?”

“Well, uhm, I don’t hate it,” you said rather coyly. Did you want to give him a win? No. But if he stepped any closer, you would falter. Your cheeks blushed as the tip of your shoe drew circles in the sandy ground. Why did your ears suddenly feel so hot?

Russell smiled as heat crept to his cheeks as well. “Your new look is somethin’, too.”

“God, shut up.” You rolled your eyes at him but couldn’t help the smile that spread across your face.

“Oh, I don’t think you’re allowed to take the Lord’s name in vain here,” Russell teased. “Don’t let good Pastor Jeff hear ya.”

You laughed, scoffing. “I hate that man.”

“Pastor Jeff? I can tell,” Russell chuckled in amusement and finally stuffed his face with the first bite of pie, chewing a mouthful as he spoke. “But c’mon, he ain’t half bad.”

“Really? You don’t wanna shoot yourself after spending five minutes with him? ‘Cause I do. And it’s been months for me,” you said. “You don’t know what that man does in his office.”

“You bugged his office?”

“And the confession booth. Two words: game changer,” you said, wide-eyed. Russell whistled lowly. You narrowed your eyes at the half-eaten plate in his hands and the pie crumbs in his beard. You raised a scolding brow. “Did you really have to bring the pie?”

“Do you even know me at all? Of course I did.” Russell then shoved the last bite into his mouth to prove his petulant point. “Did you actually bake this?”

In expectant offense, you stepped back a little, crossing your arms again. “Why?”

“‘Cause it’s good.”

“Do you even know me at all? What d’you think?”

“Thought so.” Russell gave a shrug of his shoulders. “The first bite of this didn’t give me immediate food poisoning.”

“Fuck you. I’m a great cook,” you huffed but couldn’t help the grin on your face. You had missed this – the bickering, the bantering, the fun. And Russell, the sly asshole, knew that, judging by his own smirk.

“There’s a lot of reasons why I love you, but your cooking skills ain’t one of ‘em, sweetheart,” he quipped.

“I’ll use you as shooting practice, Shaw,” you threatened playfully. Russell laughed, but it sounded more secretive than a laugh about a joke. “What?”

Russell’s eyes found yours. “Nothing. This is nice, right? We slid right back into it. Like the last three years never happened.”

“Russ…” You sighed, your heart hurting. For you, they happened.

“Just saying it was easy. That’s all,” he said with placating hands. “How’s the family? How’s your dad?”

That caused you to suck in a breath. You had wondered when he would finally dare to ask. You knew this was the real reason why he was here. “Dave finally married Jill last spring. It was a nice wedding. Florence, Italy. Got to wear a sun hat.”

“That’s good.” Russell smiled softly, although it stung that he wasn’t invited. He had always imagined he would be, once your brother popped the question to his longtime girlfriend. After all, Russell was the one who introduced the couple in the first place.

“They wanted to do it sooner, but because of the pandemic…”

“They shoulda done it ten years ago. I kept telling him to lock it down,” Russell quipped, the irony not entirely lost on him. He knew even if something was locked down, didn’t necessarily mean it would stay forever.

“You did,” you remembered with a fond smile. “They wanted you there,” you added, noticing his saddened expression. “It’s just-…”

“No, I know. Don’t worry about it,” Russell brushed it off with all the coolness he could muster at that moment.

“Russ…”

“I said it’s fine,” he repeated and forced another smile. “So, how’s the old man?”

Silently, you bit your lip and sent him a look that spoke volumes.

“Uh-oh. That bad, huh?”

“It’s the reason why I moved back here. To be closer… As close as I can be with this job. Figured it was best for everyone,” you explained. “In the beginning, he had a lot of good days, you know? Now they just all seem… bad.”

“Yeah… I’m sorry,” Russell replied, dumping his empty plate by the chickens. He stepped closer.

Uh-oh. Now, you were in trouble.

“I’m sorry, too.”

Russell’s brow jumped up. “What are you sorry for? It’s your dad.”

“I know. But… he kinda was yours too, right?” Russell’s green eyes meeting yours confirmed your statement. “He still talks about you on his good days. God knows you couldn’t throw a football before you met him.”

“Hey, that’s not true. I could throw the old pigskin around perfectly fine,” Russell defended.

You snorted. “You could not,” you argued with a teasing smile. “You knew how to kill sweet little forest critters and turn your pee into drinking water. But you did not know how to throw a damn ball.”

“You’re never letting the pee thing go, are you?”

You shrugged. “It was a very memorable trip.”

Russell laughed at that. Then the melancholic sadness returned to his face. “How’s-, uhm, how’s Lewis?”

He’d made it through the list of your relatives, finishing with the most important one. And it stung so unbearably much it broke your heart for him. But in the end, you knew he’d done it to himself.

Fighting the tears in your eyes, you forced a smile to your lips. “He’s good. He’s a sweet boy. Keeps asking questions about his daddy that I don’t know how to answer…” you scoffed humorlessly but decided to forgo the pettiness. It would be so easy to be mad at him, but not even on your darkest days could you do it. “He’s starting school this fall.”

“School, huh?” Russell huffed a devastating chuckle, the tears brimming in his eyes as the lump in his throat only grew. “Shit…”

It was getting to him, you could see, and he hadn’t expected that it would. Knowing Russell, he probably figured he could push through the pain and be fine. But he had never really been fine since the day you met him – and he wasn’t this time either as he squeezed his eyes shut, trying to blink the tears away, and turned his back to you with a hand clasped over his mouth.

“Should I stop?”

It felt like you were torturing him with a cruel new method of some PsyOp. Even if you had cursed this man for the past three years, your heart refused to see him hurt.

But Russell shook his head, finding your eyes again. He offered you a weak smile. “No, uh, don’t. Just tell me something about him, okay? I’m fine. Please.”

Sighing, you nodded in acceptance. “When my dad was better, he and Dave would take him fishing a lot. He loved it. He’s in his ‘backyard adventures’ phase,” you said, giggling softly. “He’s catching frogs and releasing them in the house. Never imagined I’d wake up with an amphibian on my head. It’s been a delightful experience.”

Russell laughed, but it was feeble at best. “I can imagine…”

And I can’t imagine I missed it all, he thought self-punishingly. But the hard part still hadn’t come yet.

“And, uhm…” Russell wrung for words, taking a deep breath. “How’s the baby? Is it–”

“She,” you stated, watching him swallow upon your correction. “Her name’s Amelia. She turned two in April.”

“Huh, girl…” His heart beat faster, grew bigger, and painfully yearned. His feet trembled to get home, wherever that was, and see them, but he knew he couldn’t. It wasn’t so easy, after all. “Guess I was right…” he said with a sad smile.

You had been sure you’d have another boy. However, Russell had bet you ten meatball subs – your craving at the time – that it wasn’t.

“What happened to Ann? Thought that’s the name we picked,” Russell teased in hopes of lightening the mood.

“Yeah, well, if you wanted a say, maybe you should’ve been there…” you retorted.

Russell should’ve known winning you over wouldn’t be as simple as spelling the ABC.

“You’re the one who left,” Russell muttered finger-pointing-ly under his breath.

“Don’t pretend you don’t know why,” you bit glaringly.

Russell swallowed lightly, nodding. “You’re right. I do. I’m sorry.” Pausing, his eyes glanced around the coop before he gestured with a hand at your outfit, looking you up and down. “So, speaking of the kids, what’s going on here? Thought you were done with the deep-covers,” he changed the subject with a clear of his throat.

He knew if he continued talking about what he’d missed, he wouldn’t make it out of that chicken coop for the next several hours, sobbing uncontrollably in the hay with the hens.

“I was. Had a desk job. Kinda…” A desk job in the CIA still never really was a desk job. “I was station chief in Paris.”

“Paris, huh? Fancy,” Russell said, but the joke didn’t reach the crinkles around his eyes.

“It’s the job I took after I left. We only moved back to the States in the beginning of the year,” you explained. “The kids loved it there, though. Lewis still gets a craving for crêpes every once in a while.”

Russell chuckled, even though every story added another bruise to his heart.

“Anyways, I got a job at Langley. Desk. Bought a house not too far from here, actually. It’s nice. Got a big backyard. Even bigger oak tree,” you told him with a smile. “Lewis wants me to build him a treehouse, but I’m not sure I can swing it.”

“I could help,” Russell offered, trying to keep his eagerness at bay when truly all he wanted was to race there and build the damn thing now. “I mean, if I can come by sometime…”

Your heart sank. “You can always come home. You always could, Russ.”

Home.

That four-letter word filled him with so much warmth and longing it brought back the tears in his eyes.

“So, uhm, why are you here and not there then?” This time, he switched the topic because he would’ve kissed you if he hadn’t. “You running a sting on the pastor or…?”

“One of his sheep.”

“Ah.” Russell nodded. “Need any help?”

“From you and Colter?”

“Yeah.”

“No, thank you.”

“Oh, c’mon, just lemme help. The faster you get this done and over with, the sooner you can stop clutching your fake pearls and get home to the kids,” Russell reasoned.

You sighed, knowing he was partially right. You did hate your disguise as much as you hated the annoyingly nosy pastor. Moreover, you missed your children a fucking lot. It had already been three months. Fall was coming soon, and you had promised your son you’d be home by his first day of school.

“C’mon, how did they lure you back in, huh? Who’s the naughty little sheep you’re working?”

“Can’t talk about this here,” you told him, automatically lowering your voice. It was hard to remember who you were right now, when what you were used to be was standing right in front of you.

Russell quirked a brow. “Did you bug the coop, too?”

“No, the pastor’s scared of the chickens, which is why I didn’t bother. But you never know if someone else isn’t listening. We’ve already shared too much. We shouldn’t do this here,” you insisted, and Russell nodded in agreement. He knew the dangers as well as you did.

“Then where?”

You exhaled a deep breath and thought for a moment. You wanted to see him again. You knew he didn’t just come find you to catch up and then leave again.

“Come by the house tonight. Make it look natural. I’ll invite you guys to dinner as a sort of friendly welcome wagon to the neighborhood. The pastor is gonna buy it in a heartbeat. Just give me a good reason to invite you over.”

Russell nodded in understanding. “Alright.”

Part 3: This Is a Heart-To-Heart – SOON 💚

Welp, seems like Russell omitted having a wife and two kids... 🙈😂

I'll post the next part in the beginning of the new year or straight after Polaris has finished. We'll see ☺️

Enjoy the rest of your holidays, loves! Can't wait to read your comments on this one 😉🤍

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[serpentface]

Two questions regarding the Wardi religion:

In addition to the bull and the lioness, what are the seven faces of god/sacrificial animals?

Given that white animals seem to be sacred, does that influence how albino humans/other sophents are treated by society?

The seven faces of God are as follows:

-the lunar, horned, or 'wild ox' face of God, which presides over the moons, and the fertility of the land, animals, and people. In pre-imperial times, this was functionally the most central face of God (replaced by the lion face/odomache). The most ideal sacrifice is a wild ox (especially white or albino) that has never been bred. -the ‘ox’ face of God, presides over agriculture and labor, as well as the domestic sphere. The most ideal sacrifice is a healthy plow oxen or khait who has never been yoked or bred (if the sacrifice is towards Ox-Face as the domestic sphere, this should be a heifer). -the lion face of God, presides over sovereignty, statehood, military might, and is most associated with the health and continuing existence of the imperial entity. The most ideal sacrifice is a maned lioness (functionally white, though this is a trait of the captive population). -the ocean or skimmer face of God, presides over the seas, winds, as well as fortune and mercantilism. The ideal sacrifice is the skimmer gull or an albatross, especially one taken from one of the sacred rocks in the 'mouth' of the Viper sea. -the serpent face of God, presides over the cosmos and divine Mysteries, associated with funerary rites and death. Also has a wildly disparate association with royalty (which is derived from entirely separate traditions and has not yet fully been reconciled into the faith). The ideal sacrifice is a two headed or melanistic snake, especially a venomous one (both would be MOST ideal, but this is rare beyond any practicality) -The solar face of God, presides over the sun, stars, and fire, also heavily associated with khait and mounted warriors. (this is a VERY direct import from the chief solar god in the Burri pantheon (who rides and/or is a khait with the sun between its horns), hence the seemingly random khait association). The ideal sacrifice is a healthy riding khait (especially with a white spotted coat), or alternatively a golden eagle. -The river face of God, presides over fresh water, seasonal flooding, and the rains. The ideal sacrifice is the migratory reed duck (which arrives at the onset of the wet season) or a freshwater hesperornis (ideally taken from one of the sacred waters). An-Nechoi are also occasionally given.

Though the core religion is monotheistic, each face of God is functionally a syncretic fusion of older ethnic Wardi beliefs, the Burri pantheon, and other regionally native traditions, which have not all been fully reconciled (the process of fusion is more or less still ongoing). Each face in of itself has dozens or more epithets with distinct features. For example, the river face has a specific epithet for each major riverway, each venerated as a distinct aspect of the Godhead. Functionally, common practice of the Wardi faith is pretty indistinguishable from polytheism, and most of the religious authority does not care as long as required orthopraxy is maintained (the central dogma of the religion does not care How you believe, but that the correct practices are enacted).

Also for reference, these are the specific animals taken on the pilgrimage in the story (transporting seven rare animals cross country can be fraught, so each had at least a few backups):

A pure white aurochs calf, found naturally born in a wild herd.

A massive, unbred and unyoked bull draft khait (dies en route, replaced by a less physically impressive backup with the same qualities)

A lioness with a full mane, from the white captive stock

A skimmer gull taken from a nest on the sacred rock in the waters of Od-Koto.

A baby two headed cobra (which dies en-route and is replaced with its backup, a melanistic viper)

A beautiful speckled riding khait mare whose horns form a near perfect circle (which is stolen en-route and replaced with its sister)

A rare wild hesperornis (haven't come up with an in-universe name yet) taken from the reeds of the Brilla river delta.

Anyway the sacrifices listed above are considered the absolute IDEALS when working with a specific face, but a great variety of animals will be sacrificed to various ends. There’s some very specific cultural/religious components to which animals are most valued, but in practice the value of a sacrifice is pretty close to 1:1 with the animal’s monetary value, at an intersection of utility and rarity.

So a young, healthy bull plow oxen who has never been bred or yoked is a more valued sacrifice than an old, experienced plow ox who has already sired offspring. You are giving up an extremely valuable animal and all its unused potential in a very practical sense, which makes the sacrifice more potent and valued. The 'virginal' status of the animal is key when the rite is SPECIFICALLY related to fertility, in the sense that the animal itself is sacrificing its unused fertility, allowing for the sacrifice-rebirth cycle to perpetuate. (Animals which Have been bred may be preferred in certain cases and rituals).

An animal with a rare coloration is usually going to be more valuable than one with more common genetics. This is the core root of why albino animals are of high value. It's less that white animals themselves are valued, just that rare genetics such as albinism = valuable sacrifice.

There are some specific exceptions where the color itself is significant (rather than just an extension of its rarity). God is specifically supposed to have taken the form of a white aurochs (itself emerged from the foam of the sea) during creation, so white oxen and wild oxen SPECIFICALLY have especially high value. Melanism or black scales are valued to the serpent face of God, which is associated with the cosmos and void behind the stars. (this stems from much, MUCH older beliefs in a cosmic serpent god in the region).

Animal sacrifice is a very significant part of the religious framework and involved in most rituals and prayers intended to affect significant change and transformation. (This is due in part to a deeply ingrained belief in the world being perpetually sustained in a cycle of sacrifice and rebirth, and in God Itself being the physical mechanism of rebirth and requiring sacrifice to be sustained). While blood itself is seen as potent, the nature of sacrifice isn't just 'spill blood and make thing happen', it's got a self contained value system and is very calculated and intentional in nature. You aren’t going to just grab a random rat and bleed it and pray, there needs to be a perceived ‘loss’. Sacrifice via killing is also not the only form, the most common day to day sacrifice is in (very minor) bloodletting and offerings of food and drink- the key is allowing a personal loss to sustain a greater cycle.

That being said, there is a HUGE trade system built up around the breeding and selling of animals solely for sacrifice. The industry revolves mostly around birds (doves are the cheapest, but also poultry, waterfowl, some birds of prey, a few select songbirds and ornamental birds), goats, sheep, and horses (the small, premodern kind). Cattle and camelids are a higher tier, and khait are among the highest of common sacrifices due to their great value.

Other animals that have no direct utility but are sacred are also bred or captured for sacrifice (hesperornis, lacetor, gulls and albatrosses, several kinds of snake, a bunch of wild ungulates, nechoi, etc). Some '''‘exotic’''' animals are imported specifically for this purpose, mostly as a means of displaying the wealth and reach of the state, with their sacrificial value rooted in the difficulty of acquisition. Animals taken from sacred sites are also prime candidates (ie cattle bred and grazed on the foothills of the Sons of Creation are VERY valuable).

---

So all that being said the importance of albino animals has come off a little overstated on my part, and doesn't have any particular impact on how albinism in people is regarded. It’s valued mainly for its rarity in the context of animal sacrifice, which would not have direct translations to how it’s perceived in people.

Albinism in people doesn’t have a super well defined significance in broader Imperial Wardi culture, but perspectives mostly skew negative and towards seeing it as a sign of ill fortune (physical differences in people tend to be seen as a result of being cursed in the womb). Imperial Wardin is culturally diverse (united mostly by a identity based in shared religion), so exact nuances would vary and this statement should not be taken as a universal.

Imperial Wardi population is mostly human (with its citizen population being MAYBE 5% elowey, 2% qilik, and a decimal point of caelin). Overall sentiment towards other sophonts by the human majority is not outright hostile, but is human-centric and tinged with xenophobia (as most qilik and elowey in the region are immigrants, with the only elowey ethnic group historically inhabiting the region (the Jazait) being regarded as 'heathens'). Albino elowey or qilik might be similarly seen as products of a curse, or may be given a 'wow how beautiful' treatment (in a heavily patronizing capacity) and seen as a curiosity, or otherwise just subject to varying perspectives on albinism in the region.

The one other thing I have established in this vein is that the semi-mythological hero Janise (sworn brother of other semi-mythological founder hero Erub) is said to have been albino. While he is positively regarded, he is supposed to have died young of a snakebite (assumed to be the product of a curse from his enemies) and this would not improve perceptions of albinism being related to ill fortune.