#no they aren't going to be period accurate either

[oceanbreathessaltyx]

probably going to have to add ass creed: black flag's mary read/james kidd to my muse list cause tbh kenway needs his little buddy around

[fideidefenswhore]

The difficulty is that while The Tudors still downplays Henry's intellect and talent, it regularly displays his cruelty, not only on climactic occasions like the executions of Fisher, More, Anne Boleyn and Catherine Howard or the burning of heretics, but also as a routine aspect of his day-to-day relationships with others, in his profoundly abusive, exploitative, and misogynist[ic] relationships with his wives and mistresses, and in his unmitigated narcissism. If possible, the series makes Meyers' Henry [...] worse than the real king.

Henry VIII in The Tudors / William B. Robinson

[moki-dokie]

been seeing some stuff on blue eye samurai and big yikes to nearly everyone pushing extremely western ideals onto these characters.

this is early edo period. 1600s. the japan you know now did not exist yet.

yall. please. there was NO concept of sexuality in pre-modern japan. that came with both the influx of christianity and western influence very very late in history. like, mid-1800s. (yes, there was christianity pre-1800s but it was not a widespread idea yet and wouldn't be until about the 1800s since, y'know, missionaries were routinely murdered before then)

"so and so is either bi and hasn't figured it out yet or..." no. that isn't how it worked then. nobody gave a shit what was between your legs. anyone could be attracted to anyone else. it was a little more common for male homosexual relationships to be between an adult and younger male - like many other places around the world - but two adult men could bang and love each other just as easily. relationships between women were quite common - especially since so many men were often away at war. there's tons of pornographic prints from the time depicting all manner of fun queer relationships. sex itself had absolutely no moral assignment to it. good sex was good health. it didn't matter who with. (well, social class/caste mattered more than anything else tbh but that didn't stop upper and lower class from fucking.) that isn't to say people didn't have preferences. of course they did. that is human nature. preferences arose more from physical appearance, caste, and circumstances with gender being about the last thing one would look for in a partner - romantic, casual, or otherwise. the only role in sex where gender actually mattered was for procreation.

there would be no queer awakening moment, no sudden switch flipped, no stigma to have internal conflicts about because it simply did not exist as a concept whatsoever. you were either attracted to a person or you weren't, it was that simple. gender played no role when it came to sex and sexual attraction. the japanese were lightyears ahead of western cultures in this particular area - like most cultures were before christianity came in and ruined everything with its backwards morals and strict good/evil dichotomy.

yall have got to realize queer rep will not and should not always adhere by modern western standards. there was no straight, gay, bi, or anything else of the sort. the closest they ever got was referring to roles during sex - as in who is giving and who is receiving.

i know this is mostly a made up story but it is still set within a very specific time period and culture, which should be honored and respected by not making it fit into our box. tons of research went into making this show historically accurate (albeit with some discrepancies but tbh they aren't really that huge) right down to the calligraphy writing. please please please don't whitewash the culture from these characters.

i say this mainly because without this knowledge, so many of you are going to build these characters up on a foundation they aren't meant to be on and then you'll rage about queerbaiting and bad queer rep if it isn't somehow super explicitly stated, if it doesn't match your very modern, very western ideal of what queer looks like. don't try to force this plot and narrative and characters into something they canonically and historically aren't. headcanons are a thing, AUs are a thing, fanfiction is a thing - leave your western thinking for those and let these characters simply exist as they should otherwise. this is one of those times where the queerness really does not need to be examined at all beyond what we get.

i know it can be hard to wrap your head around - sexuality is such a huge part of our identity in the western world and has slowly started to spread amongst other parts of the world in importance. but just keep in mind with these particular characters, that concept would be so very alien to them.

[toskarin]

some mostly flippant rambles on including elves in the Saltreave (that fantasy setting I write when I'm not working on my more serious projects) along with some setting notes in the margins

well. the setting notes are like 90% of the body of the text.

but we do get to elves. and we stay at elves for a while.

-

THERE IS NO ZERO IN THE ROMAN NUMERAL SYSTEM: Prologue to the Preramble

so I've written about my thoughts on elves as sort of "narrative level lifeforms" before, and that's still very much where my thoughts lie on them, but there are also just kind of elves around as fairly normal people in the Saltreave

this is a bit of a blurry line, because they're obviously not the nature-loving type of elf you see post-Tolkien -- which I'll go ahead and say feels like a deliberately obtuse misread of what Tolkien was implying by them living in harmony with a world that is literally described as the manifestation of a song -- but the bottom line is that Saltreave's elves aren't Tolkien elves, and they're not attempting to be subversions of them, but they are written by someone who quite likes those guys

all of that raises another question: what the hell are elves in the Saltreave?

-

I: Preramble

I put a bit of an information abyss at the beginning of the setting by design, outright saying that the "pre-apocalypse" might as well not exist at all.

to some extent you can say that it must have existed, and there is a bit of scattered writing that implies things about the state of affairs the world was in (mostly in terms of the politics between mortal civilisations and how that manifests in the modern politics of the remaining citystates), but the Advent is where the story starts

the most common explanations of what things were like before the current era are, at the end of the day, just attempts to explain what the people living in it are presently perceiving

the Advent, used as shorthand for a million things that each mean something different to everyone, is either the end of the world or the end of the old order of things. it is both the death of the symbolic plane and its violent merging with the material plane, severing every connection to the symbolic along the way

a bit further down that line of thought, even the present magic system gestures towards being derived from an older practice that was forced to adapt to sudden shift of the central symbolic source to a source diffused unevenly in the material plane, although from what exactly this magic system was forced to adapt remains a bit of a mystery

-

II: Into the Ramble

the Saltwind (the thing that gives the setting its name and effectively wiped out the previous world) is actually harmless

or more accurately, it's a visible symptom of an invisible problem, and that invisible problem is extremely harmful in a way nothing else could possibly hope to be

the "salt" in the wind is actually just salt. it's a lot of salt, but it's still just recognisably some sort of organic salt if you were to hold it in your hands

the salt is both the result of the Advent and a vessel for carrying "warped grain," an invisible ripple of magical static that functions more or less like (non-mutagenic, because I'm actually not a fan of using that as an apocalypse fiction concept) magical radiation

warped grain takes on a bunch of roles, so let's go over a few of those in relative brief

the one most commonly acknowledged fact is that warped grain is a soul-destroying pollution. it's bad stuff. it's poison that seeps into everything. it's in the water, it's in the air, it gets into the food as it grows, and you need to affiliate yourself with a citystate that has access to unpolluted (or otherwise purified) supplies to survive in the world as it exists

a bit less commonly (mostly when scholars and other big-hats talk about it) it's acknowledged as a sort of ambient magical noise that makes spells more unpredictable and dangerous. it can also periodically "complete" a spell if you take too long casting it, making it do something unintended (often killing the caster)

in a pinch, warped grain can be absorbed into the body as some kind of environmental magic energy, allowing someone to replenish their depleted magical energy and forgo resting to generate their own*

*: absorbing environmental energy in a world where it's literally poisoned will also eventually fuck up your soul beyond repair, so it's a really stupid idea and not something any serious magic-user would recommend

but most importantly for why elves are around, warped grain can be seen as the frayed threads of a decapitated cosmological order, death-rattling itself apart

-

III: Rambling About Elves, Mostly

because of their intimate connection to the disrupted symbolic plane of the world, the elves who were alive at the time of the Advent were grievously injured, experiencing the soul equivalent of radiation-induced chromosome aberration, and died a few years later. the generations following this one represent the entirety of the remaining elven population

this means that all modern elves can theoretically be divided into two categories

Selvedge Elves - while ostensibly referring to one of "pureblooded" elven stock, meaning someone whose parentage has never included a mortal. the elephant in the room is that Selvedge Elves aren't real and haven't been for quite some time. an actual Selvedge Elf had a lifespan of about 20-25 years and was not capable of having children, on account of being a wholly symbolic being born into a world where the symbolic plane exploded like an asbestos ceiling. "Selvedge" exists as a highly ideologically-charged concept, and not exactly one that lends itself to any non-reactionary interpretations

Scion Elves - everyone else. all elves currently alive are demimortal, which means that they have at least a bit of mortal parentage. even beyond elves, there are no immortals left in the Saltreave, but their descendants are absolutely still around. the term "Scion" refers to those descendants, but given that there isn't really a group to draw them in contrast to, most people prefer not to use it at all.

now it's worth mentioning, while they're all partially mortal, not all currently existing elves are specifically partially human. the stereotypical elf is human or similar, but there's nothing stopping an elf from being, say, a sylvan (the broad category of mortals who have animal ears and such)

Luuga, a character I've posted a few times, would be considered an elf if her status as a sylvan didn't make people identify that first. that's why she has longer, narrower ears than other feline-type sylvans (contrast the only other example I've drawn, Imiellith, and how her ears are much stouter)

more on sylvans and other types of mortal at some later time, but with everything out of the way, let's get down to some elf facts

-

IV: Indulgently Rambling About Elf Facts at Great Length

elves theoretically have different lifespans from mortal beings, which is something they have in common with other demimortals. elves specifically live about ten years longer on average than mortals, provided they don't die of unnatural causes, which they usually do.

additionally, they have a few notable traits that are more specific to elves

(an egregious number of) examples of these include...

elves only breathe as a learned social behaviour and theoretically don't actually need to do it. the same goes for yawning, coughing, sweating, sneezing, and similar functions. somewhat unfortunately for them, because most living things know they need to breathe, elves are still perfectly capable of knowing they need to breathe, which means they're capable of suffocating. in theory, an elf raised by people deliberately trying not to teach them about breathing wouldn't have to breathe, but that's not really a good way to raise a child

elves tire more based on time rather than effort. this is a subtle distinction, but means that an elf can exert more effort in a burst than a mortal companion, yet drops from exhaustion as soon as they've reached the limit of how long they can work. most people never notice this, since "the limits of exerted effort" and "the limits of time spent exerting effort" overlap heavily

elves are about five times more likely to die of old age on their birthday than any other day, but only if they're aware of their birthday. this is something most people are aware of, and different cultures grapple with this in different ways

in cultures with different calendars, the previous point also holds true. in cultures without the concept of something equivalent to a "year," elves just die of old age in more or less the same way mortals do

an elf's hair has a length it wants to be, with the specific length varying between individuals. if cut, it will grow faster back to this length. it cannot be grown longer than this by any means

elves tend to be quick to grasp spoken language, but a bit slower when it comes to grasping written language. this isn't always true, and when it is, doesn't tend to manifest past initial language acquisition

in exception to the previous point, elves are prone to grasping pasigraphies at the same (often accelerated) rate with which they grasp spoken languages. if the conditions were ever to arise for a wholly elven-developed language, it would likely have no direct written component, with all writing consisting of a highly contextual pasigraphy

elves stereotypically have exceptional memories when it comes to things that catch their interest. it's not uncommon for elven big-hats to keep a small stash of special expensive candies entirely for the purpose of forcing themselves to have eidetic memory for something they're disinterested in by associating it with extremely positive stimulus

because of the previous point, there is a notable market for making luxury treats aimed specifically at elven academics in cities they frequent

because of the two previous points, elven academics often develop pleasure-deprivation complexes, feeling guilty whenever they experience positive emotions that don't lend themselves to furthering their work

the previous three points are only true if they are generally understood to be true in the location where the individual is raised

if tested, most elves would appear to be colourblind. a deeper examination would reveal that elves only struggle with telling green and blue, and that this difficulty persists into the very concept of green and blue, which they struggle with disentangling in abstract. this is also true of elves with most other colexifications because I got annoyed with constantly reading people on tumblr doing pseudolinguistics and thought it'd be a little funny to have the Symbolic People run on the faulty assumptions I kept seeing

elves can get so sad they just physically die

elves can theoretically recover from any acquired disease provided that they receive adequate and comprehensive treatment for the symptoms

nothing can reduce an elf's pain to the point where they don't notice it. sedatives work, but analgesics simply do not

elves can theoretically die of any disease (no matter how minor it is) if it lasts long enough

in the same vein as the previous point every chronic illness is effectively a terminal one to an elf. the exception to this rule is that an elf will not die of a chronic illness they are born with, even if the same chronic illness would eventually prove to be terminal in a mortal

elves cannot leave permanent footprints, regardless of what they're wearing and where they try to leave them. if an elf were to step in cement, the bootprint would eventually disappear in the same way that it would if they'd stepped in sand

contrary to the previous point, if an elf writes in ink, the ink cannot be smudged or otherwise distorted on accident. the writing can still be lost by destroying the object it's on or deliberately attempting to smudge it, but this requires intention

while elves are exceptionally capable of performing magic without any formal education, this is actually the result of them being able to open the immortal component of their souls to grain, including warped grain, and therefore should never be done. this is true of most demimortals, with the mortal component of their soul being the safeguard that prevents their souls from being torn apart in the same way their ancestors' were

elves grow to be about as tall as is normal for them to be where they are raised. this is a bit counter-intuitive at first blush, but more or less means that an elf (regardless of specific heritage and origin) will grow to the height that is generally understood to be "normal for an elf" in the location where they are growing

in a similar vein to the previous point, an elf raised by mortals with no knowledge of elves (especially without knowledge that the child is an elf) will not show any physical traits of being an elf. this is an unlikely event that requires like three sets of perfect circumstances to happen, but it's not off the table

in a similar vein to the two previous points, dominant cultural understandings have a causal influence on certain other things considered "elven features," but the only evidenced ones besides height are ear length, ear angle, degree of facial hair, number of ribs, and the exact position in the chest where the heart resides

as a final note, elves always have both palmaris longus tendons, unless they are explicitly understood to lack one or both, as with previous points

-

V: Drawing Some Kind of Conclusion From Rambling About Elves. But Not Really.

this is all a very long way of saying that elves (and other demimortals) represent "those who have lost their plot armour" in a setting where the symbolic plane was seemingly once something running parallel to the material world and now exists most prominently as a severed limb bleeding all over it

because no written history of the immortals was preserved in the Advent, knowledge of the old world is heavily slanted towards a mortal perspective, containing only outside views into the symbolic plane's nature

there is nobody left alive who remembers the world before, several generations having passed since then, but to those who were told that they fell from a world of elevated importance and meaning, it can be especially tempting to view the old world as a halcyon paradise that was ruined

what remains is largely conflicting and disputed. most have long since moved on from litigating these things, faced with a world where it would make no difference

[kaiserin-erzsebet]

tell us more about your complicated feelings about the accuracy of shows like Bridgerton, please!!!

Thank you for asking. I've been wanting to get it out of my head.

First off, I think "historical accuracy" can be a somewhat impossible standard. We don't know the past well enough to do a one-to-one recreation, and even if we did, it would probably be kind of uninteresting. We understand that romance or mystery fiction isn't a one-to-one recreation of modern life either, even if it is set in our own time.

I hold historical accuracy to the same standards as book accuracy when it comes to adaptations. Something is going to change between mediums and that is a pretty neutral thing on the face of it. I often look for an understanding of themes (or predominant concerns of the period) and vibes more than I look for accuracy. And I let the media itself tell me how serious it wants to be about recreating the past.

I love this scene from Marie Antoinette for capturing Rococo excess, and there is a pair of Converse in it:

When I talk about shows like Bridgerton, I mean the ones that exist in this kind of "less than serious, but recognizably historical setting." Overtly self-serious works like a certain recent Napoleon movie that everyone panned are easy to critique on the grounds of historical accuracy, because they are presenting themselves as trying for that.

Bridgerton, on the other hand, is Regency with a giant asterisk. The sparkly dresses and pop song covers tell you that. I feel like it occupies a similar niche to something like Reign, where the aesthetics and the music and the story tell you it is more about romance than about serious history. You're here to have fun and watch pretty people kiss. Yet, there are recognizable historical figures in it at points, which keep it from being full fantasy.

And I don't have anything against something that is interested in being fun and romantic. My own media diet isn't exclusively serious stuff either.

The complicated part of my feelings come more from reception than anything the show is necessarily doing. To me, a historian who consumes a lot of historical media, it's pretty obvious that the show is wearing "not that historical" on its sleeve. And generally, I give that more grace because it is being clear about what it is.

However, in the wake of the show's popularity, I've seen people engaging with it in a way that gives me pause. For example, on a video of a woman making a dress for a Bridgerton premiere, a lot of people in the comments were trying to tell her to do a "period accurate" Regency dress. Period accurate. For Bridgerton. The show that takes actual Regency fashion as a suggested base that they build off of.

I've similarly seen videos along the lines of "POV a Bridgerton era girl doing [x]" that seem to be thinking Bridgerton is a representation of the time period rather than existing in its own bubble. Or people discussing it saying things like "back then [insert thing] was true" trying to draw from the actual Regency period (usually rather badly).

It's like the popularity has broken through to people who don't usually consume history or historical media, who simply miss how much the show is saying that it isn't history. It's a sort of undiscerning audience who isn't catching the blatant, intentional differences from a serious period piece because they know very little about the period. And then things merge into how they think about actual history (see also: people who bring up plot points from Reign to characterize actual Mary QoS in Mary vs Elizabeth discussions, or people who talk about "back then" with GoT or HotD)

And my complicated feeling is this: I don't actually think these shows could do more to differentiate themselves from actual history. They're giving you all the clues to say they aren't trying to do that. Yet, I can't help but think that there are still ways that they bleed into perceptions of history. And I wonder if that is an inevitability with loosely historical media.

[somethingusefulfromflorida]

Stories about prophecies have always bugged me because they never adequately explain WHY the universe works the way it does, WHY specific events are inevitable. "It is your destiny," the fuck does that even mean? Says who? Which metaphysical/eldritch entity wrote this prophecy? How do they enforce it? If an Oracle says something, was it always going to be true or did they change the future? Is there only one future? Is the world deterministic?

Well, I've started thinking about it through a scientific lense. In a world where magic exists, it is simply another fundamental force of the universe. It can be studied and understood, and, most importantly, predictions can be made based off it. Before chemists discovered specific elements they'd look at where it would be on the periodic table, they'd look at all of its neighbors, and they would be able to accurately predict certain properties about it. "It'll be this color, this density, it'll have these stable isotopes, and'll form these types of bonds," etc. They aren't prophesying willy-nilly, they are making informed hypotheses.

An astronomer can give you the exact orbital periods of planets many lightyears away based on the mass of their host star; Kepler's Laws ring true no matter where you look. They can predict the exact time and location of eclipses a thousand years in advance. I don't know what a Higgs Boson is, but physicists knew it existed long before they ever actually observed it.

Prophecies are magical hypotheses. Prophets aren't just granted foreknowledge out of nowhere for shiggles, they simply observe the current state of the universe and extrapolate forward. If souls and chakras and mystical energies exist, their influences on the material world can be measured and accounted for. I don't understand quantum mechanics or general relativity, but I trust that scientists aren't just making shit up. I don't understand magic, but wizards aren't just making shit up either!

Some prophecies are wrong. Many, in fact. There are just too many variables, too many unknowns. Schrödinger's cat, Heisenberg's Uncertainty Principle, the Butterfly Effect, Chaos Theory, there would be magical equivalents. Meteorologists can tell you what the weather will look like tomorrow, but nobody knows what it'll be like in a month, a year, a century. They can tell you that Hurricane Season will have higher or lower activity than average based on ocean surface temperatures, the El Niño/La Niña cycle, etc., but they can't give you the exact dates of storm formation, strength, or duration.

I really like the idea of prophecies having varying degrees of certainty. Lines like "it is your destiny" or "it has been foreseen" aren't cop-outs, they're just predictions. If I drop a rock, it WILL fall towards the Earth; it's not destiny, it's gravity. Magic works the same way.

TLDR: prophecies are like election forecasts!

[stellar-constellations]

An Alliance (Part 5)

        Fem! Spy! (Y/N) x Yuri Briar

        Parts: One, two, three, four, current part, six, seven, eight,nine, ten (to be continued when Spy x Family has more Yuri content!)

        (Y/N) is given her own backstory that is important for the story!

        The setting for this story is based off West and East Germany's (because Spy x Family is heavily based off Germany in the 1940-1950) laws (or at least replicated to the best of my abilities since it's unknown what time period Spy x Family is exactly in, we'll go with 1950 for the sake of this story). 

        Historically-accurate women misogyny and mistreatment! Only small comments and historically-accurate laws (replicated to the best of my ability). 

        The story, plot, and settings might not match up to the Spy x Family manga as it's not completed and the manga is still being crafted.

        This series contains spoilers for the manga and anime!

        We finally made it to the apartment his sister lived in. Yuri held a huge bouquet of flowers as we walked down the hallway. He stopped in front of the door as he spoke. 

        “My sister is married. If possible, pay close attention to him. His actions towards Yor and his wording. I refuse to allow Yor to marry someone who can’t treat her right.” Yuri huffed.

        “Okay…” I muttered, placing one of the briefcases I was carrying down, then knocked on the door for Yuri.

        The door opened as a blond haired man held it open, standing behind him was a black-haired woman.

        Ah, shit. I cursed in my head, my eyes widening as I quickly shook off the shock and fear so Yuri couldn't see.

        The blond didn't make any sort of indication of being surprised, but I could see it in his eyes that he was. I stepped aside so Yuri could handle the situation. The two men both held a firm handshake as he greeted us. 

        "Welcome!" the blond and the woman, Yor, greeted warmly.

        “Please, come in. Oh, let me take your coat and briefcases.” The blond suggested.

        “Thanks, but we’re fine.” Yuri spoke.

        I nodded, placing down the briefcases in the corner of the room. 

        "I'll whip something up real quick, so you all can go ahead and catch up." The blond smiled as he walked away from us.

        "Thank you..." Yuri gritted through his teeth, glaring at the blondie.

        "Gee, you must be nervous, Yuri." Yor smiled. 

        "I-I'm not nervous." Yuri spoke, handing her his flowers. 

        She put them in a tiny white vase that barely fit the flowers. Yuri sat down on a single couch-chair as I sat down on the couch, the closest I can be to him without him freaking out over it.

        "Thanks for the flowers, Yuri." Yor spoke.

        "Sure, but, don't think I've approved of your marriage, sis!" Yuri suddenly spoke up. "It's just too sudden! And why'd you keep it a secret from me for an entire year anyway? I need answers or I'll never approve." Yuri spoke.

        I looked at Yor expectedly, waiting for her answer as she nervously sweated. 

        Something's not right about her. I mean, she's pretty and sweet, just like what Yuri said, but her vibe is off. Plus, why didn't she tell her brother about the marriage? Though, he does seem very doting to her, so I wouldn't tell him either. Also, why is she sweating and not answering? 

        "Well? Why aren't you answering me?" Yuri questioned.         

        "Um... it's because." Yor paused. "I...just forgot to tell you!" she shouted.

        I looked at her dumbstruck as Yuri looked at her confused and a glass shattered in the kitchen.

        Don't say it. Don't call her a dumbass. Don't call her an idiot. Don't insult her otherwise my murder will be an accident by Yuri. 

        "Uh...okay...um..." Yuri spoke, unsure.

        "I just forgot!" she stated more firmer.

        "Wait, but what about that phone call the other day? When you mentioned a partner... Why didn't you just tell me then?" Yuri questioned, still slightly awestruck. 

        "Oh, um, that was... I forgot that I'd forgotten to tell you!" Yor smiled boldly. 

        Another glass in the kitchen shattered. It was quiet for a hot minute.

        I coughed, "Ack, st- ack upid!" I coughed into my elbow to muffle it.

        "Well, that explains it then. Sorry for being suspicious." Yuri smiled, a smile not too satisfied but not looking to pry more.

        I am surrounded by black-haired idiots. I thought, absolutely dumbfounded and resisting the urge to scream my profanities of this situation.

        How could he believe this? There's clearly something off! Unless this is just her usual behavior? I mean, he knows more about his sister than me, so maybe I'm just looking too into this?

        "You can be such a ditz sometimes, sis." Yuri laughed.

        "I'm sorry." Yor laughed back. "But what about you two? How long have you been married for? And why didn't you tell me?" she questioned, a curious expression on her face.        

        "You didn't tell her how we met?" I questioned, looking at Yuri as I laughed slightly.

        "Oh, I didn't? Sorry, sis. I guess forgetfulness runs in the family!" he laughed. "We actually met at a flower shop. Remember that bouquet I gave you last time I visited?" he questioned.

        "Yeah. That was... a little over a year ago! Around the time me and Loid got married!" Yor spoke, her face and smile brightening. "B-but we weren't living together at the time, so that's why you didn't see him before!"

        So his name is Loid for this mission? I thought. What a stupid name.

        "Yeah. At the time, she was currently working at the local bouquet shop I bought the flowers for. After that, I thought she was so pretty that I had to come again, but I was too nervous to go in and ask for a date, so instead I kept going to the shop for two months and buying flowers just to see her before she eventually asked for a date." Yuri chuckled, flustered as I smiled. "Then I saw that she stopped working at the bouquet. I was disappointed until I figured out she started working in Foreign Ministry, same as me, so it's a fateful coincidence! We got married last winter. It was a real small marriage and we're saving up for good rings because of the shortage in supplies lately." Yuri added.

        "Yeah. You should've saw him! He was so adorable with his red face and how he tried to avoid eye contact. I thought I was going to die by how cute he was! He also talked a lot about you. He really looks up to you and I'm glad he has a sister like you in his life." I giggled. 

        "Aw! That does sound like Yuri!" Yor giggled. "Do you have siblings?" she asked, looking at me.

        "Yes. Four of them. They're overseas though, same with my parents, so I rarely see them." I smiled. "Though I do like to visit when it's summertime there since they're in (country of origin)." 

        "Wow. That's a long way! I'm glad you have Yuri here to keep you company, he's such an amazing younger brother and he's so kind too!" Yor spoke. 

        Yuri blushed, seeming smug as he looked over at Twilight with an expression that said "see that? She's complimenting me! Not you!"

        "I'm also very lucky to have Loid and Anya in my life too." Yor spoke, causing Yuri to look at her furious and devastated at the same time.         

        I resisted the urge to chuckle, afraid Yuri would glare at me.

        Anya? I don't recall Yuri talking about someone named Anya, nor do I see them anywhere.

        "Sorry for the wait." Twilight spoke, setting down plates on the living room table. 

        I kindly regretted: it'd be rude, and there's no way I trust him, not after what's been going down. What if WISE found out about my whereabouts and what I've been doing in my past time? What if he's trying to poison me? I don't care how long he's known me, he probably values work more than my life.

        Yuri seemed mad that he intervened as he angrily took a bite of the food. He seemed to like it, which only pissed him off more as he shoved more food down his throat. 

        "Isn't Loid's food so good?" Yor gushed.

        "That reminds me, good thing I brought wine!" Yuri spoke, grabbing the wine bottle he placed on the floor on the table. 

        "Oh, thank you!" Twilight spoke.

        "So, how'd you two meet?" Yuri questioned.

        "Um... at, you know, the place..." Yor hesitated. 

        "At the boutique on third street." Twilight spoke up.

         "I was like, 'wow, this strange man's really staring at me, huh?'" I smiled at her wording.        

        Well, that doesn't sound that wholesome.

        "I mean, I was just charmed by her beauty..." Twilight quickly spoke. "Then we started having lunch together, and really hit it off." 

        "Lunch? When? Where? How many times? I want the names of the restaurants. How many trysts were there? Who proposed? What do you two call each other?" Yuri questioned.

        "Love, please. One question at a time. You don't want to suffocate them." I laughed nervously. 

        This seems like an interrogation, but strangely it's even more serious than the one with Jim. Better pay close attention to your head, Twilight. I thought, smiling. 

        "Huh? Well... 'Yor' I guess." Twilight spoke.

        "D-d-don't tell me you call him 'Loiloi' or 'lottie'?!" Yuri spoke, panicked as I laughed at his strange nicknames.

        "Huh? What?" Yor spluttered. 

        "AH! DAMN YOU, LOTTIE!" Yuri shouted, opening the wine and pouring himself a wine glass of it, then chugging it down.

        "I just call him Loid, like normal!" Yor shouted. 

        "Want some water?" Twilight offered, causing Yuri to shoot him a glare and growl.

        "DAMN IT ALL!" Yuri screamed, getting another glass and chugging it.

        "Slow down, Yuri!" Yor spoke.

        "Anyways, I hear you're a diplomat? That's impressive! Yor's always bragging about you, you know." Twilight smiled. 

        He started to tap on the table as Yuri looked dazed.

        Morse code? I thought.

        What are you doing here with her brother? The morse spoke.

        What are you doing here with his sister? I replied.

        "I heard from Dominque that you just got back from Hugaria? I'm so jealous." Yor smiled. 

        "Yeah, well, it was just a business trip." Yuri replied.

        I'm on a mission. The agency said they haven't heard from you. What happened? Twilight tapped.

        There's a mole. I answered.

        "But you're right, the city was beautiful. I wish could've showed you." Yuri smiled, his words slurred from the alcohol. 

        Light-weight. I smirked, before listening to Twilight's morse.

        What are you doing with Yuri though?

         Because he's my husband. I morsed, smiling at Loid as he looked at me with a expression not buying it.

        Listen, I quit being a spy. Tell Handler I quit. Some things happened and I realized I don't want to live like this forever. I want a family to love and enjoy. You understand, right?

        Twilight stopped talking after that, seeming to be in deep thought. 

        "They were cafes everywhere, and even an old shop they said the queen visits herself visits." Yuri spoke.

        "You mean the capital, Obuda? There are so many good restaurants nearby the embassy! I've been there before too, as part of my residency training." Twilight explained.

        "Oh? I especially liked this place called Kalpatia. The old man who runs it makes a stew to die for." Yuri spoke.

        "Ooh, I've been there! Is this wine from Hugaria too? I like it." Twilight questioned.

        For some reason, I'm getting deja vu from this conversation. Like I heard it before or read a book of it. Then, I remembered that hardcover book the Handler gave me in my early spy training.

        "Oh, that?" Yuri spoke. "I found it in a speciality store on Hedger way." 

        Crap. He already figured it out.

        "How much did it cost?" Twilight asked, following an exact question in the book.

        "Oh, not much, just 200 dalc or so." Yuri spoke naively.

        Dummy! You could've at least changed up your story for Hugaria! I screamed in my head. If I try to stop this now, then I'll look suspicious to Twilight. But he might already be suspecting that I'm working with the SSS if I'm still alive and married to an SSS member. I'm done for! I mentally cried as I changed my posture, trying to shake my nervousness off.

        "That's pretty expensive. Now I appreciate it even more." Twilight spoke. "We'll have to return the favor next time." 

        "Yeah, let's do that! Aren't you glad to have such a nice brother-in-law, Yuri?" Yor smiled. 

        Yuri stayed quiet, then stood up and slammed his hand on the table, causing both me and Yor to jump.

        "I told you, I don't approve of him. He's no brother of mine!" Yuri exclaimed.

        "You're being rude, Yuri!" Yor scolded. 

        "Yuri, sit down, please." I sighed, watching helplessly as he got mad. 

        If I stood up and did something, the alcohol might make him confess and blow our cover. We're both vulnerable at the moment. 

        "You're right, Loid Forger. I have an amazing job that can easily pay for expensive bottles of wine. And it's all thanks to my sister... for raising me on her own." Yuri spoke.

        Oh, right. He's an orphan too.

        "Without our parents, we were poor and couldn't even afford books or school supplies. But... she was always working herself bloody, just for me..." Yuri admitted. 

        I looked over at Yor, seeing her in a new light. Maybe she's not all that ditzy. 

        "That's when I decided. I'd have to become a reliable man as soon as possible, so I could protect her and my future family! My one and only blood relative, and my wife." Yuri confessed. 

        I looked at him shocked, surprised that he would mention me in his rant, especially since our marriage was fake, before realizing his was most likely talking about his one day real wife.

        "Do you get it? Nothing is more important to me than my family! So I'm not going to let some nobody swoop in and steal it all away from me!" Yuri spoke.

        "Yuri..." Yor spoke, moved by his words. 

        "I've always known she'd get married and find happiness someday. But if her husband can't protect her even better than me, then what's the point?!" Yuri questioned.

        Why does he sound like my dad from back then? I thought.

        "That mean's you, Lottie!" Yuri declared, pointing a finger at Twilight. 

        "I...I love Yor just as much as you do. Our daughter really loves her too. As far as I'm concerned, she's already family. So whether I had to take a bullet or a nuke, I'm prepared to give my life for her." Twilight spoke.

        What a bad liar. All this just for a mission. I thought to myself. 

        "T-that's just talk, you liar! You've got the face of a liar, liar!" Yuri shouted, taking a step forward and hitting his knee on the table, knocking down the glass of water Twilight offered him earlier.

        "Jeez, Yuri! You've always been so careless!" Yor sighed, taking a napkin to the table.

        "It's fine, Yor. Let me get that." Twilight spoke, his hand reaching forward. 

        Both their hands touched as they looked flustered, then immediately pulled away, avoiding eye contact. Yuri and I stared blankly, before I started to chuckle.

        They’re acting like they’re not married. I thought to myself.

        “Huh…? Haven’t you two been living together for a year…? All that just from touching hands? Are you sure you’re married?” Yuri questioned.

        They could be played off as an awkward couple who doesn’t like to show PDA. I thought. Well, what’s your move, Twilight?

        “C-c’mon, we’re always lovey-dovey!” Twilight smiled nervously, holding up a framed photo of him and Yor. 

        “Y-yeah!” Yor chirped, helping hold the picture with Twilight.

        Seriously?! I screamed in my head. Out of all the excuses you could’ve used! You went with that?! He lost his flare!

        “Smells fishy.” Yuri spoke. “If you’re really a married couple, then prove it!” he demanded.

        “Huh…? We have our marriage certificate…” Twilight suggested.

        “NOT LIKE THAT!” Yuri shouted. “Kiss each other. Right here right now.” 

        “WHAT?!” Yor, Twilight, and I shouted.

        “Yuri, you’re going too far!” I spoke, standing up from the couch to glare at him. 

        I trust Twilight is doing this mission for good, so I cannot let their cover be blown (no matter how much I'd enjoy seeing the top spy fail, my pettiness is less important than peace itself).

        “What? If they’re lovers, this should be easy!” Yuri spoke.

        “Um…but. In front of you?” Yor spoke, embarrassed.

        “Do you want us to make out in front of your big sister? Huh, Yuri?” I questioned, causing his face to heat up.

        “No! That’s my sister!” he shouted.

        “So why should they kiss in front of you?” I questioned.

        “But it’s just one kiss for them!” Yuri spoke, trying to justify this. “Just one kiss, and I’ll let it go. But if you can’t, I’m going down to city hall to get this marriage annulled."

        It was quiet for a second before Loid spoke up. “Well, if you’re okay with it.”

        "What?" I spoke out.

        “Huh?!” Yor shouted. “Hold on, Loid!”

        I stared, shocked at what I’m about to witness. Twilight, actually kissing a girl? I never seen this in all I've known him (Fiona would be jealous)!

        “Hey, hold on! You don’t have to do it!” I exclaimed, my face going red from the secondhand-embarrassment. 

        “We’ll just do it like we always do, Yor. C’mon.” Loid spoke, trying to convince her. 

        They moved closer as I adverted my gaze to Yuri. He's really serious about this!

        “Shall we?” Loid spoke.

        “H-hold on just a moment please!” Yor spoke, taking the wine bottle and drinking straight out of it. “Okay, let’s do this.” She spoke.

        How the hell did she get drunk that fast?! What kind of breed are the Briars?! I thought to myself.

        They started to whispered to each other, pissing Yuri off.

        “What’s with all this whispering?!” he shouted. “Can you do this or not? If you’re a real couple, then show me!” 

        A fork went flying through the air, stabbing the wall right next to Yuri. He was bleeding from a small cut on his cheek since the fork grazing him.

        WHAT BREED IS THE BRIARS?!

        “Shut it, Yuri! We’re about to show you the depth of our love!” Yor scolded. “Close your eyes, darling. I’m coming in.” She spoke on top of Loid.

        I immediately turned around, closing my eyes tight and covering my ears as I screamed “Too lewd!” 

        I didn’t turn around until I felt the ground shake from a vibration like someone falling. I turned around and uncovered my ears to see Yuri on the ground bloody.

        “Oh no! Yuri, are you—“ Yuri quickly stood up from Yor’s words, a pissed off expression on his face.

        I don’t like this place. I thought to myself. I don’t think I like Yor either, she’s scary.

        “I get it now, Yor.” Yuri spoke.

        “Get what?” Yor questioned.

        “That strong reaction to me stopping your kiss… I get how eager you are to smear your lips all over that creep!” Yuri sniffed, tears swelling up in his eyes. “I was a fool to think I was testing you. When what was really being tested all along was… My own feelings!” Yuri sobbed drunkenly.

        It’s not that serious, I thought to myself, stepping towards Yuri and hugging him. However, I still have to play my own wife role.

        “There, there, love. You’re always so emotional.” I smiled, reaching up and petting his hair as he wailed loudly.

        I’m so gonna blackmail him for this.

        “Uh…listen, you’re bleeding.” Twilight spoke, ignored by Yor and Yuri.

        I moved away once Yuri stopped crying, no longer needing comfort as he spoke.

        “For now, Loid Forger… my sister’s lips are yours.” Yuri stated.

        “What?!” Yor panicked. “How can you say stuff like that?!” she shouted, then slapped Yuri hard enough to knock him back into the wall and tilt the picture.

        “Oh my god! What the hell?!” I cried out, rushing to Yuri’s aid.

        Psychos! Psychos! Twilight, get ahold of your damn wife! I screamed in my head.

        I helped Yuri stand up, balancing him as he swayed, even more blood pouring down his face.

        “I’ve let you win this round, Loid Forger, but remember—“ Yuri spoke, only to get cut off by Yor.

        “Are you okay, Yuri? You’re swaying.” Yor spoke, stepping closer to her brother.

        I got him off me, letting her take care of him instead.

        “Should I call you two a taxi?” Yor questioned as she placed one of his hands over her shoulder to properly balance him. 

        "We're fine, Yor. You don't have to baby us." Yuri stated.

        “I can just drive him back.” I spoke, not exactly knowing where Yuri lives but I’ll figure it out.

        They both kept swaying, almost falling if it wasn’t for Twilight.

        “Woah, there!” Twilight spoke, catching them.

        “What are you grinning about? Does my humiliation amuse you?!” Yuri shouted.

        Seriously. You're still trying to pick a fight? I thought, sighing as I watched the three of them. 

        A part of me feels jealous. They really look like a family. Family will fight all they want, but their true colors will show one way or another, and everyone will know how much they care. 

        I wish I still had a family to love and care for. I thought. 

        I felt my face contort into sadness as tears swelled up in my vision (ones I quickly wiped so no one could see, there's no way I'm going to cry in front of Yuri, or god forbid, Twilight).

        “Oh, no…” Twilight spoke, answering Yuri’s question. “I was just admiring what wonderful siblings you are. You two have supported each other through so much.” 

        “Yuri, thank you for all that you’ve done to protect your sister. I know it can’t have been easy for you.” Twilight smiled. “Now you’ll have me supporting her with all my strength as well. Let’s work together to give Yor the happiness she deserves.” 

        Yeah. He had definitely gone soft… 

        “WHO THE HELL SAID YOU COULD TOUCH ME?!” Yuri shouted, moving away from Twilight.

        “Yuri, careful!” I exclaimed, a tired sigh escaping my mouth as I grabbed his coat and our briefcases.

        “We’re going home!” Yuri shouted, grabbing my hand and rushing to the door.

        “Come back and visit anytime! I know Yor would like that. Next time make sure to get here when my daughter’s awake.” Loid spoke.

        Ah, Anya is his niece-in-law!

        “Anya tried so hard to wait up for you. She’s so adorable—I know you’ll love her.” Yor smiled.

       “Oh, I’ll be back! But not because you invited me! It’ll be to find the proof that you duped my sister into marrying you!” Yuri shouted, pointing an accusing finger at Twilight. “Listen up, Loid Forger! If you make my sister cry so much as a single tear… I will have you ex—“ 

        I whipped my to look at him, wide-eyed.

        “Er… I mean. What I’m saying is…” he stammered. “Just remember that!” Yuri shouted, taking off down the hallway and hitting the wall.

        “Thanks for having us!” I shouted.

        “Have a safe trip home! Nice meeting you!” Yor shouted.

        “Yuri..." I huffed, causing him to look at me. “Stop picking fights when you’re in no shape to!” I shouted, grabbing his face and pulling it to eye-level. "You're not allowed to drink unless we're at home, do you understand? And the next time you pick a fight with Loid, I'll shove my foot up your ass since you wanna be one!" I shouted.

        He looked at me, eyes blown wide as he nodded, showing he understood me. 

        "Good. Now, how do we get home?" I questioned. 

        "Uh. Go forward outta here, then... left." Yuri directed, looking out the window.

        I strapped my seatbelt on and waited for him to buckle his. I glared at him for half a minute before he spoke.

        "Why aren't we moving?" he questioned.

        "Safety first. Put your seatbelt on, otherwise this car won't move." I stated. 

        "Ugh. I don't wanna..." he complained, yet grabbed the seatbelt and fidgeted with it. "Can't." He spoke, giving up after a few seconds of missing the buckle.

        I sighed, rolling my eyes as I smiled. 

        "Yuri, Yuri, what will you do without me?" I questioned.

        "Live." He spoke.

        "It was rhetorical. But thanks for letting me know where I stand." I huffed, reaching over and grabbing his seatbelt. 

        "Am I supposed to die too?" he questioned, tipsy as he looked at me with half-lidded eyes. 

        "No. I'm just messing with you." I chuckled, buckling his seatbelt and sitting back in my seat.

        I started the car and drove out, turning left. Yuri directed me on the way, making a few wrong turns but at least he knew and told me so we didn't get lost.

        "Go right, then straight." He sighed, hitting his head on the window.

        "Careful. I don't want you breaking the window and falling out." I joked, grabbing his arm and pulling him towards me so he wouldn't get hurt.

        "Turn right now." He directed, resting his head on my shoulder. 

        I ignored my heartbeat as I made the turn, Yuri still tipsy and mumbling nonsense every now and then. He mumbles things I would laugh and entertain him.

        When he spoke about imaginary trains, I questioned what noise they make, and he yelled loudly "Choo-choo!" causing me to laugh loudly as he smiled. He spoke about seeing a black cat and questioned if he was gonna get bad luck for the rest of his life, I told him that was the cars shadow.

        There was a point where he suddenly broke down crying and when I stopped the car to look at him worriedly, he shouted "are you pregnant!?" I looked at him confused before laughing and saying no. "Then whose Anya?!" he cried. "that's your niece, right?! Yor's child!" I laughed. "Yor has a child?!" he cried louder as I laughed. "My tears amuse you?!" he cried. "No! I just think your face is so pretty that I just have to laugh because I love it." I lied. "Oh. I'm pretty?"he questioned. "Yes, Yuri." I laughed, driving the car back on the road. 

        "In a minute, go left." He spoke, "then take the other left and you'll get to the apartment." 

        "Are you sobering up?" I questioned.

        "No..." He muttered. "I'm tired though."

        "Good. I don't have to drag you to bed." I smiled.

        I made the turn as he spoke: "When we got in the car, were you mad?" 

        "A little; I'm fine now." I admitted. 

        He stayed quiet for a second before speaking up. "You're hot when you're mad." 

        "Thanks." I laughed, thinking it was the alcohol talking. "You're hot when you're mad too." I then paused, thinking. "Is that why you're always pissing me off?" I questioned, looking at him.        

        "It's a secret~" he spoke in a sing-song tone as I laughed. 

        "Okay. You keep your secrets and I keep mine." I smiled.

        Sometimes, it's hard to forget me and Yuri are supposed to be enemies. We're from two separate sides of the war, yet here we are, laughing and flirting together like there's no tomorrow. I wonder, if the war never existed, would we have ever met? Could we have had something real if this war didn't exist?

        "We're here, Yuri. Get up." I spoke, unbuckling my seatbelt and turning off the car.

        He groaned, trying to unbuckle his seatbelt and luckily succeeded. He opened the car door and almost fell out if it wasn't for me running over and catching him. 

        "Come on. We're almost there." I pointed out as he staggered.

        I grabbed his arm and placed it over my shoulder, lucky that he was bending down so I could lead him without having to walk on my tippy-toes. We walked to the lobby and into the elevator. I pressed the button and fought through the wave of nausea as Yuri panicked.

        "I'm going to puke. Is this how you feel in elevators? I'm so sorry." He groaned, covering his mouth with his hand.

        "We're almost here, love." I laughed, waiting for the door opened. 

        The door finally opened as Yuri walked, swaying side to side from the mix of alcohol and nausea from the elevator. We made it to the door and I grabbed the apartment keys from his pocket. I carried him to our room and set him down on the bed.

        "Are you going to shower or not?" I questioned. 

        "No." He immediately answered. 

        "Okay, then take off your shirt." I spoke, walking to the bathroom and searching through the cabinets.

        "I would, but I'm drunk so it's illegal even if I do give consent." He spoke. "If you go to jail, I won't have anyone to do my job for me." Yuri spoke.

        "Okay. Number one: rude. Number two: you're a perv 'cause we're not doing that, I'm attending to your wounds your sister inflicted." I spoke, finding the first-aid kit and grabbing it, grabbing a towel and wetting it too.

        "It's okay. She broke my ribs once by hugging me too tightly." He admitted.

        I don't doubt it. What the hell is her strength from? I thought to myself as I walked over and made him sit up as he complained about not wanting to.

        "Lift your arms." I ordered.         

        "Okay..." He muttered.

       I grabbed his white shirt and pulled it over, finding a random shirt from his drawer. I ignored for the time being of how much it'll be a pain to remove the blood from his shirt, and threw the shirt at him. 

        "Put that on in just a second, I need to clean your face first." I stated. 

        "Okay." He complied. 

        I grabbed the wet towel and dabbed his forehead, gently getting rid of all the dried blood that tried sticking to his head.

        "Your sister sure is strong." I commented. 

        "She's always been strong. Once, she broke my ribs from hugging me too tight." Yuri spoke.

        "I know, you told me just a minute ago." I spoke.        

        "Oh." He spoke.

        I finished wiping the blood off him and placed two bandages on each cheek and gauze wrapped around his forehead tightly. 

        "There. You look..." I paused.

        Like total shit.

        "Great." I smiled. "Now, stay here and I'll go get you stuff for that hangover you'll get." 

        "Aw... Crap." He groaned, throwing his arm over his eyes to cover the light as he fell back on the bed. "I forgot about getting a hangover. I have work tomorrow. I don't wanna work with a hangover!" he whined. 

        I walked out of the bedroom, fetching a glass of water and snooping through the cabinets for pain relievers. 

        I can't believe he's an extreme light-weight. He seems to get drunk after just one sip.

        I sighed, taking the supplies to the bedroom and placing it on the bedside table. I looked over and noticed Yuri dead asleep on the bed with his chest still exposed.

        "I told you to put on the shirt..." I grumbled, sighing as I grabbed my pajamas and walked to the bathroom, quickly changing my clothes and brushing my hair and teeth. 

        I walked out and crawled onto the bed, getting behind Yuri and grabbing his arms. I pulled his body snug to my chest, grabbing the shirt and muttering complaints in my head as I fitted him into the gray shirt with a blush coating my face. I sighed, dragging him up further in the bed and tucking him under the covers.

        “And you said that you’re the one babysitting me…” I sighed, looking at his peaceful sleeping face.

        He’s not faking it this time. I thought. Most likely it’s from the alcohol, not from him trusting me just yet.

        I sighed, grabbing Flower and holding her in my arm as I took off my glasses (if you have them) and placed it next to the water glass and pain relievers. I got up from the bed and walked to the light switch, turning it off and crawling back into bed.

        The unnerving silence drug me into my thoughts, allowing me to recall todays events in hopes of escaping my loneliness in the dark.

        Twilight looked happy, and Yor was so sweet. They seem happy together. I thought to myself. I feel…happy for Twilight, but also jealous. Me and Yuri fight a lot; I don’t think there’s ever been a moment where he was genuinely nice to me. But that's expected, he's the enemy. 

        I sighed, turning on my side. 

        I try to be nice to him, but he really pisses me off. He’s lucky I haven’t punched his teeth in yet—and it’s only the end of the second day of this. That's right, only the second day. Tomorrow is a new day to try and earn his trust. Then what?

        I decided to stop thinking about that, allowing myself to pick up different thoughts. 

        I’m not sure I’m on any side of this war. I ditched Westalis, and now I’m in Ostania, but I don’t want to use brute force and fear as a way to coax people into listening to me... Speaking of Westalis, I hope Twilight gave the message back to the Handler and she reacted well. I thought, fearful of her wrath.

        I decided to think back to memories I always tried my best to avoid.

        I think the reason me and Twilight don’t get along that well, is because we’ve both seen each other’s weakness, from long ago.

        Parts: One, two, three, four, current part, six, seven, eight,nine, ten (to be continued when Spy x Family has more Yuri content!)

        Want more Yuri content? Check out these headcannons and one shots!

        Yuri Briar x Sick! Fem! Reader

        Slightly mean! Yuri Briar x Fem! Reader

Yuri Briar x Fem! Reader headcannons + other fandoms!

        Have any requests? Check my masterlist to see the characters I write for: Masterlist (Please request, I have too much free time and too little fics).

[allthoseotherworlds]

Okay, here's what I am imagining after that weird male-presenting timelord scene. Please imagine Sylvie and Shaun just standing awkwardly to the side the whole time. Also on AO3.

“It's a shame you're not a woman anymore,” Donna was saying, “‘cause she'd have understood. We've got all that power - but there is a way to get rid of it. Something a male-presenting Time Lord will never understand.”

The Doctor watched, confused, as Donna and Rose released the metacrisis energy. He wasn't confused about the release of the energy, of course, now that it had been pointed out as an option. He was so, so grateful that there was a way out of this, a way not to lose the friend he cared so much about and had always regretted losing.

But.

He watched as the remains of golden regeneration energy fizzled away into the air, then turned back to Donna and Rose.

“That's incredible! The metacrisis energy was too much for one person to release, but split between two, it's reduced enough to be let go without damage. Brilliant!” He paused. “I'm not sure what gender has to do with it though?”

“Oh, you know,” Donna said. “It's just…” she paused. “I always heard that woman are more emotionally mature, that sort of thing.”

“Actually,” Rose said thoughtfully, “I'm not sure that's true. I've known plenty of women who could use more emotional maturity. Think about Nerys-”

“Oh, that woman!” Donna grumbled. “You may have a point.” She turned back to the Doctor. “It's still not something you'd ever come up with though. I guess I assumed it's because you're a man now.”

“Am I?” The Doctor asked. He didn't know why he said it, really. He mostly let humans assume what they wanted, and it mostly didn't bother him. But it was Donna, and she was clearly accepting and loving towards Rose, and this face seemed much worse at hiding things than his last.

“Well, aren't you?” Donna said. “I mean, you've never corrected anyone.”

“I guess we never did ask your pronouns,” Rose said. “But when you assumed he for the Meep I guess I assumed that meant you were a man.”

“Most people do. The Doctor said. Mostly I let them.”

“But…?” Donna asked gently, and the Doctor was suddenly so proud of her and Rose and the loving relationship they had with each other.

“Well, you know,” the Doctor ran a haha through his hair. “I'm just… the Doctor. Sometimes people think I'm a woman, and sometimes people think I'm a man, and I'm not really either. I'm just the Doctor. I know what humans are like, in this time period, so I mostly use “woman” or “man” because it's what people expect. But it's not… it's not some fundamental thing about me, a defining trait or experience. It's just something to go along with. It's just how other people treat me, not something I am.”

Donna nodded, thoughtfully, but it was Rose who spoke.

“You do… know that gender normally is something people experience and feel strongly about?” she said. “I mean, that's why I'm trans - I just feel it inside. It's not about how other people see me.”

“I'm not sure I've ever felt that,” the Doctor said. “Like I said, I'm just… me. Everything else is just other people.”

“I'm sorry for assuming,” Donna said. “What about pronouns? Do you have a preference?”

“Oh, I don't think so,” the Doctor said, mostly by reflex, before stopping. “Actually, of the available options in English, I think ‘they’ is most accurate. But like I said, it's not that important to me. I just brought it up because,  I don't know, I guess I just wanted you to know.”

“Well, now we know,” Donna said. “Thank you, Doctor.”

“Thank you,” the Doctor said. “Both of you.”

This face was more emotionally open, but even it had its limits apparently, and the Doctor shook themself off and gestured at the exit to the unit compound. “Now, shall we go find the Tardis?”

[darkmatters-ghost]

Shadamy week - Day 1 Festive

I'm generally satisfied with this one? So here you go I guess

Amy was beyond excited this time. She couldn't properly describe it. She just had a good feeling about it. A festival all about the prosperity and hope for the future. That new things would be discovered, and difficult problems could be fixed. Sometimes people from out of town called it New Years, and though that wasn't quite accurate, it was good enough for her.

She had a small jacket to shield herself from the cold night air. The games she would play, the things that she'd do, the people she would see, it was all so exciting!

She was most of the way there. She could see the glowing lights from behind a layer of lights. With a grin, she sped up along the path.

Only to hesitate, and stop in her tracks. Her own hesitation surprised her. It was like something was tugging on her heart, telling her not to leave it behind. Leave what behind?

She glanced around. Grass and trees surrounded her, the dirt pathway she was following beneath her feet, a grassy hill to her right. It all seemed so mundane. But it was obvious, something was here that she needed to adress.

The feeling usually came when someone needed help, or if Eggman was nearby. She saved many flickies this way.

Taking a deep breath, she relaxed and let her mind lead to whatever she needed to be.

She slowly left the path and wandered towards the green hill on her right. She felt like she was being pulled toward it. It felt natural. She needed to get to the top of the hill.

It was a tall hill, but no mountain by any means. It didn't take long to get to the top. The festival was much easier to see from the top. It was lit up like a theme park, or an outdoor arcade. She started glancing around. Looking for that something. It didn't take long to find.

Shadow was at the edge of the hill staring at the festival. His ears were pointed towards her. He definitely knew she was there, but hadn't said a thing. Was he hoping she would go away?

"Um," she started awkwardly. "Hi Shadow."

"... Hello, Rose." She waited a moment for him to continue, but he didn't. He didn't do anything to say he wanted her to stay, but he also didn't do anything to say she should leave, either.

She slowly stepped closer to him, until she was lined up next to him. On his left. He glanced at her very briefly, but ultamately decided to ignore her, and keep looking at the lights.

"So, you headed off to the festival too?" He shook his head, and she frowned. "Then why aren't you at home? What's the point of coming this close if you're not going to go in?"

When he didn't say anything she worried she might've annoyed him. The last thing he probably wanted to was to be interogated. He had never said much to her before, when they bumped into each other while saving the world. She wasn't sure why she thought it'd be different now.

But then, he took a deep breath. "Have you ever seen so much media for something that you feel you've lived through it?"

Amy gave him a puzzled look. What did that have to do with anything? "...I don't know what you mean."

Shadow thought for another second. "Say, a time period, for example."

Amy stopped to think about it. "Like how everything is about the 80s and 90s?" She asked.

"Yeah, something like that."

He didn't give her a chance to ask another question. "Once a year, at New Years, they would send up a time capsule." Amy cocked her head. 'Them'? Who was 'them'?

"Maria was excited for it every time. And I quickly figured out why. The capsule was full of movies, records, books, all from the last year. The record always had about fifty of the newest song hits. Maria loved Elvis' music. I was more sparatic with it. I enjoyed Dream Lover, Earth Angel, Pink Shoelaces... Whatever song I felt a connection to."

It was a simple story when she thought about it, but it was enthralling. Shadow never talked about his time on the ark. She listened closely as he continued.

"But, it was the movies that really connected us to the ground. Maria liked Alice in Wonderland for its color, I liked Rear Window for its intrigue. Plus... I could relate to a character forced to watch the world from a windowsill. Instead of seeing it personally."

That last sentence made her stomach sink. "Shadow..."

"Now the world has changed so much, I..." He frowned. "It's been years since I was exposed to all of it, but I still feel like... I'm trying to catch up."

Amy wanted to hug him then and there, but she didn't know if Shadow would appreciate the gesture.

"Is... Is the festival making it worse?"

"I'm not sure," he admitted. His ears drooped when he said that.

She immediately started brainstorming things that might help him out. But how could she help? She can't rewind time for him! Plus, she didn't think he actually wanted that. She didn't have any experience with old technology. The only person she knew who did was her grandmother. Who owned an old record player, and hundreds of different records for it.

Shadow did just say he liked records. She wondered if she could...

"Hey Shadow?" He quirked an ear in her direction. "When you say 'records' you do mean vinyl, right? Like, record player stuff?"

He scoffed. "Of course, what else do you think was there in the fifties?"

"Just checking." He hummed and stared back at the lights. There was a slight pain in his eyes that she didn't notice before. It took a minute or two to gain the courage to ask.

"So, you don't want to go to the festival," she said.

"No."

"Then..." She took a deep breath. "How about we go somewhere else? Somewhere fun?"

He stiffened in a way that startled her. His voice, quiet. "We?" His quills got pricklier, his eyes widened slightly, his jaw clenched. As soon as it started, it vanished. His quills smoothed themselves back out, his eyes regained the apathetic look from before. The only thing still emotional was his voice. Which was shaky. "Rose..."

Was it that bad? Maybe she shouldn't have asked! He looked so horrified.

"Nevermind," she said quickly. "I get it. We hardly know each other, I-"

"Where would we go?" He said, while staring at her expectantly. She stopped. He wanted to go somewhere with her? You're really giving me mixed messages, dude!

"Well, you talking about records reminded me that my grandmother has tons of old records. She's out on vacation with my grandfather but I'm sure she'd let us borrow it for a while."

Shadow turned and stared at the ground between his feet. Thinking. Then he looked at her. "I thought you were going to the festival."

"Eh," said Amy. "I've been previous years, I can miss it this once. It's not going anywhere. You're more important anyway." And it was true, all the excitement she had for the festival was now orientated toward Shadow.

Which made her confident that the tug from earlier was for Shadow. Maybe there was even more turmoil in his mind than she thought.

Her sentence had stunned him into silence again. The same fear that he hated her response filled her stomach. It didn't last long, though. Because looking at his body language, he seemed fidgety, and his cheeks were slightly pinker that she remembered them being. Was he... Flustered?

Could you be possible that he was flustered earlier too? That could explain his shaky voice...

After a moment, he looked her in the eyes and nodded. "Just tell me where to go."

She grinned and clapped her hands together! "YES! Okay, okay, um. It's this yellow house by Acorn Street, right where-WOAH!"

She wasn't expecting such a swift movement from him, but in half a second, he was carrying her bridal style, and zooming toward her grandmother's house. It was remarkably quick, though, maybe that was redundant. Once they were nearby, Shadow slowed down to let her give him more directions. It was weird. She'd done this before. Being held in the arms of a speedy hedgehog of a hero, but Shadow was nothing like Sonic. Sonic wouldn't have slowed down for directions, he would've just tried every street until he found a house that fit her description.

And Sonic didn't hold her like Shadow was right now. Sonic would never drop her. She knew that, but his hold was far from secure, and it was very stressful. Shadow was completely different. He held her like she might break if he let go. It irraticated all the fears of falling off from the sheer speed. It was a strange mix of tranquillity and exhilaration.

It made her realize something. Something she'd always known, in a passive, subconsious, way, but never quite thought about. Shadow was his own person. He wasn't a Sonic clone, or a mindless android, he had his own wonderful personality. And as Amy looked up at his focused expression, Amy Rose became determined to find out more.

}{}{}{

Shadow heard the crunching of footsteps long before they were anywhere near him. The sound immediately soured his mood. He growled under his breath. The last this he wanted on this cursed day was for someone to bother him and his alone time.

Maybe they won't bother to check this hill, he thought to himself.

He focused back on the lights. Reds, yellows, greens, and even blues were blurring out the stars in the sky. Making it feel barren and lifeless. A stark contrast to the calm days in the ark. When they filled every window.

Lights. Lights of every color. When he was back on the ark, a blue lightbulb was merely a concept. A pipe dream. Now there were entire computers (that doubled as televisions). And you could fit them in the palm of your hand.

The festival irked him. He wasn't sure why. Something about prosperity and the future. But the future seemed to always go by too fast for him to keep up. And what good has the future ever done for him? All it seemed to do was take, and take, and take. Where's the prosperity in that? Sometimes he wished he could just- get a good taste of the past again.

It was an overly negative way to look at it. He knew that. But knowing something is irrational doesn't stop you from thinking it.

The footsteps stopped and he froze. Listening carefully.

Please just leave me alone.

After a very tense thirty seconds, the stranger did the one thing he said not to do.

He did his best to analyze the footsteps. They were different than before. Probably because they were climbing the hill. He refused to look towards where they were climbing. Maybe they would mistake him as just another patch of darkness in the forest.

As the footsteps reached the flatter part of the hill, the footsteps became more recognizable. Thick, heavy steps. Slightly off center. His insides went cold. The only person with boots that combersome was Amy Rose.

This had never happened before. He'd never been alone with her. He prefered it that way. Less likely to spill all the painfully romantic things that he felt for her. Things she didn't need to hear. Not when she was still into Sonic. Well, she never said she was still in love with Sonic, but she didn't not say it either. And he didn't dare hope.

He made a promise to himself, that if he saw Amy Rose, he would refuse to say some sappy romantic garbage. Be normal for two seconds. Please.

Amy was already atop the hill, and he could feel her stare right into his back.

"Um, Hi Shadow."

Be normal. "Hello, Rose."

She stepped closer and he felt his heartbeat speed up slightly. Something was definitely wrong with him. He spared a glance toward her, but her curious eyes met his for a moment, and he looked away. Back to the lights. At least they didn't make his heart spontaneously sparatic.

"So, you headed off to the festival too?" That stupid festival was the last thing he wanted to do. But instead of voicing all his contempt with the place, he simply shook his head.

He could still feel her eyes on him. Maybe he could talk to her a bit more than he was doing.

"Then why aren't you at home? What's the point of coming this close if you're not going to go in?"

He didn't respond to that, though it was clever of her.

He took a deep breath, Don't screw this up, Shadow. Don't say anything weird.

"Have you ever seen so much media for something that you feel you've lived through it?" Though he tried to look casual, he was worried this whole thing would weird Amy out. He certainly didn't deserve for Amy Rose to care for him.

She made the cutest face when she thought about his question. "...I don't know what you mean."

"Say, a time period for example."

Amy donned the same face as before. "Like how everything is about the 80s and 90s?"

"Yeah, something like that."

He must be cursed. Amy was always good at getting him to talk. How could you resist her when she was looking at him with the most faithful look. Like she trusted him.

He was talking, again.

"Once a year, on New Years, they would send up a time capsule." He watched her face for any excuse to stop. But she was already watching, curiously. "Maria was excited for it every time. And I quickly figured out why. The capsule was full of movies, records, and books all from the last year."

At least he wasn't outing himself as a hopeless romantic.

"The record always had about 50 of the newest song hits. Maria loved Elvis' music. I was more sparatic with it. I enjoyed dream lover, Earth Angel, pink shoelaces, whatever song I felt a connection to."

Amy was still watching him as he told his story. He couldn't be that interesting, right?

Shadow nervously continued.

"But, it was the movies that really connected us to the ground. Maria liked Alice in Wonderland for its colors, I liked Rear Window for its intrigue. Plus... I could relate to a character forced to watch the world from a windowsill. Instead of seeing it personally."

This got a reaction from her. "Shadow..." He forced himself to ignore it.

"Now the world has changed so much, I... It's been years since I was first exposed to all of it, but I still feel like... I'm trying to catch up."

Amy looked about ready to cry on his behalf. That felt like overkill in this situation, but that was something he admired about her. She wasn't afraid to have strong emotions about things.

"Is... Is the festival making it worse?" She asked. She managed to find the one question he didn't have a good answer.

"I'm not sure."

He watched Amy's face change from empathetic, to contemplative. Her eyebrows furrowing as she was thinking about something. She looked up at him again, and he had to shove down a fluttery feeling that appeared the second he looked at her. He looked back to the lights again.

"Hey, Shadow?" He turned an ear towards her. "When you say 'records', you do mean, vinyl, right? Like, record player stuff?"

He scoffed beside himself. "Of course, what else do you think was in the 50's?"

"Just checking," She muttered. That confused him. Checking for what? He resigned to this. He promised he would be normal about Rose, and he tried to refortify that by looking at the lights again. But, once again, the advanced technology he was staring at was slightly jarrring.

"So, you don't want to go to the festival," she started.

"No."

"Then..." She took a moment to find her words. "How about we go somewhere else? Somewhere fun?"

That- that broke him. "We?" They? Together? Run off to do whatever? Like, a date? A date with Amy Rose! It sounded too good to be true! And it was. It must've been! Right? There was no way it was possible! Not with the likes of him, she must've meant it platonically. He shook the foolish thought out of his mind. His quills-that he didn't know were pricked in the first place-smoothed down. And he tried to regain his composure. "Rose..." His voice was still shaking. He looked at her expression and tensed up. She seemed... scared. Had he done something scary? Did he ruin everything without even trying?

"Nevermind," she blurted. "I get it." No! She's going to leave me here? Say something! Something Intelligent! "We hardly know each other, I-"

"Where would we go?" He asked. Not perfect, but not threatening, or creepy. He could work with this.

"Well," again, she made an adorable face when she started thinking. "You talking about records reminded me that my grandmother has tons of old records. She's out on vacation with my grandfather, but I'm sure she'd let us borrow it for a while."

It was like he was finally getting reprieve from everything. Amy Rose, a taste of the past, the good part of the past, it was... Perfect. But what did she think of the whole thing?

"I thought you were going to the festival." He muttered. She handily brushed it aside.

"Eh, I've been previous years, I can miss this once. It's not going anywhere. You're more important, anyway."

'You're more important.'

'You're more important.'

'You're more important.'

How long has he been loving her on the sidelines, assuming that she saw nothing but a worse version of Sonic? But here she is, proving that wrong. Maybe he had a chance with her after all.

He shoved that thought down with the rest. Not now. We can think about it later. He'd forgotten comepletely about what was bothering him before. She was a miracle-worker. He looked her in her emerald eyes. "Just tell me where to go."

"YES!" She clapped her hands together, like she was genuinely excited for this. And he was starting to think she was. "Okay, okay, um. it's this yellow house by Acorn Street," he knew that area. "Right where-WOAH!"

He picked her up immediately, and shot off towards the street she said. After a few seconds he realized what he just did. He didn't ask, or warn her. He wasn't even subtle about this whole thing!

He glanced at her briefly. She seemed... Fine? Content, at the very least.

Note to self, don't just pick her up. That is weird. We're trying to be normal.

One day, one day, he would be able to tell her his feelings. And maybe one day, she'd reciprocate.

A/N: I grew up in America, so I was always fascinated by the festivals that other cultures have about blessing the year with good harvests and stuff. In certain parts of China, they have this blacksmith firework thing where they just straight up throw molten metal around. it's pretty sick.

[yamayuandadu]

I am very aware that Shinigami aren't actual mythological beings in either Shinto or Buddhism (closest thing being the Yamaduta), but what are the earliest mentions of them in Japan? Is there a Chinese equivalent of them?

Yamaduta is more a Hindu term than a Buddhist one. A quick survey of De Gruyter's and Brill's sites shows a fair number of cases it appears in vedas (in a pretty narrow sense, as a designation of Yama's two dogs), puranas and upashnidas (ex. in the story of Nachiketa) and that's about it. According to Marc Tiefenauer (Yama and Hell Beings in Indian Buddhism in Brill's Encyclopedia of Buddhism Online) there are Buddhist examples too, but they don't exactly seem common. And I can't think of a single specifically Japanese source indicating any greater familiarity with this term let alone incorporation into theological treatises, everyday religion or into pre-modern fiction. The oldest cases of the term shinigami being used are from the Edo period; Kyōden Santō, an eighteenth century writer, used it as a fanciful designation for a vengeful spirit of a hanged person in one of his works (English translation can be found in The Straw Sandal or The Scroll of the Hundred Crabs (Mukashi-banashi Inazuma-byōshi)). There's a handful of other similar sources but none of them have anything to do with the modern use of the term. That seems to only go back to Japanese adaptations of Godfather Death by Brothers Grimm, which in the Meiji period entered the repertoire of rakugo performers. Elements of this story pop up in Shigeru Mizuki's portrayal of shinigami (skeletal appearance, the candle motif) which is essentially a fusion of western grim reaper and the nameless clerks populating paintings of Buddhist hells; however I am not aware of many works which would really go with that. It's essentially a generic fantasy term first and foremost. I've only ever seen ZUN use this term the way Mizuki did, actually.

Since equivalences arguably require actual theology to develop around a figure I don't think it's really possible to speak of a "Chinese equivalent". I suppose the closest thing to an accurate answer would be "whatever the default translation of the name of eponymous character from Godfather Death is".

[laurelindebear]

Finally saw the Mummy 25th anniverary release in the cinema yesterday and AAAAAAAAHHHHH IT'S SO GOOD ON THE BIG SCREEN. I know it's not all accurate (either to the various parts of ancient Egypt or 1920s Egypt/North Africa) but it's just gorgeous, from the opening shot of 'Thebes' to the golden desert panoramas to giant 15-foot-tall Ardeth on a huge screen aaaaaaaaaaah I'm dead.

I had cuddly baby Horus and his handmade tagelmust with me the whole time, I wore my Key of Hamunaptra earrings, I wore my Medjai necklace, I wore my Ardeth t-shirt. I've never been to the movies alone but I loved every second.

I can't remember if I've even been to the cinema since Covid and I think I missed it more than I realised. I'm not a huge film buff, and we've got a big tv (my partner is an avid tv viewer). But when it comes to some shots, the panoramas, the detail in the close-ups, the shots that are there for unabashed visual aesthetic - like maybe my favorite shot of all time, Wall-E reaching out to touch the swirl of ice/rocks as he clings to the Axiom - the cinema screen gives an immersiveness the tv can't match.

I'd seen it last week again as well, with a friend who'd never seen it, and between the two I noticed some things I hadn't before, or had forgotten. So this is gonna be long and rambly and full of questions and observations.

The brownface and imperialism is bad. Some of it I guess is period-accurate, and partly to indicate that certain characters aren't great people/are earning their grisly deaths (Chamberlain and the Americans). But a lot of it is inexcusable. Omid Djalili's performance is pretty over-the-top (and he is afaik Iranian and not Arab), a lot of 'Egyptian' characters clearly aren't (even beyond the main cast, all of Imhotep's priests look like White guys in gold paint to me. Some of the Medjai eg the one with the hook are also in brownface.)

A lot of local diggers and Medjai are killed in the Medjai raids and the plagues and it's not really acknowledged much. You'd think Ardeth would still have some hard feelings about Rick/Evy/Jon having killed people he's known all his life but maybe you have to develop a different view of violence and death when your whole life is centred on stopping the end of the world.

When the heroes are fleeing from the museum, they crash the car and run a short distance away. Rick, Ardeth and Jonathan escape via a manhole to get to Winston at the airfield. When they arrive at the airfield, they seem to be in the same car. How?

Why does Evy seem to be waking up on the slab? When we last saw her she was wide awake and chastising Beni. Feels like something was cut here.

The Medjai with the hook also has the following tattoos on his cheek: Gardiner's sign U6 or U7 (mr) and 2x H6 or (I think) M17 (y or j). What is ymr or mry? 'Beloved'? Is Anck's name in there too? What do they all mean? I must know! Would it be weird if I tried to write to the designers and artists from the film about it?

Some of the Medjai (or other workers) performing the Hom Dai have no tattoos on their arms. Most of the Medjai have tattoos which include one of the eye symbols (Eye or Horus or Eye of Ra) on their shoulders. Sidenote, I think Ardeth should have worn the old-timey Medjai outfit just once, for science. (Good thing we have the amazing @minilev to imagine it for us.)

The Hamunaptra cat is really totally out of the bag by the end of it. Not only is there treasure and archaeological finds (sadly not the Book of Amun-Ra, dammit Jonathan 😜) but Cairo had about 5 simultaneous (super)natural disasters. Ain't no covering that up. They're gonna need to recruit a lot more Medjai. (I volunteer! It will not go well for me though. I would be the worst Medjai of all time.)

Did Patricia Velasquez play the mummified version of Anck as well?

Who was Imhotep going to sacrifice the first time? One of his priests?

Was already thinking about this before I rewatched it but...the law is distinctly that no other man may touch Anck-su-namun. Has anyone written an AU where Anck and Nefertiri fall in love and escape Seti together? 👀 (I know he treats Nefertiri ok but Anck is clearly not a happy and willing participant in their relationship.) I would read that. (No, me, you already have half a dozen stories you'll never finish. Don't even think about it.)

Where are the camels at the end from? Didn't they all get ridden back after the first time they left Hamunaptra? And I thought there were more horses than camels, anyway.

Ardeth really was supposed to die, it was so clear. He was fist-fighting mummies and then had dynamite thrown at him. I'm not even slightly sad he survived (it's my favorite plot hole of all time!) but...how. Thank you Stephen Sommers for your vision. 🙌

Jonathan's face-journey for his 'Iiiiimhooooteeeeep' line is even more amazing on the big screen. I remember why my sister and I loved it so much. John Hannah and Jonathan are very underrated IMO.

Kevin J O'Connor also underrated. Beni is a weasel through and through...but Kevin plays him so, so well.

What does Beni say in ?Hungarian when Rick confronts him in the egyptologist's office? And how does he understand Imhotep - magic? I can buy he'd learn protective prayers in 10 different languages, but translating Middle Egyptian is another thing entirely.

Evy and Rick doing the 'I love you' 'I know' thing with just their eyes when Evy goes with Imhotep to try to save them. SO GOOD.

Has Brendan Fraser ever been hotter than when Rick first catches sight of Evy after her Bedouin makeover? (Which, coincidentally, has been living rent-free in my head ever since...it's almost an anti-niqab since the sheerness and beading on the veil arguably draw more attention to her and her eyes but...damn girl. 😍

Evy's delight at getting to Hamunaptra on her camel and finally getting to do field work is delightful, it's infectious, it's a pure joy to watch. As a female lead who could so easily have been an ineffectual trophy, she holds her own and carries the film as an equal protagonist to Rick in her own right. And I love her for it.

Evy and Jon are one of the better portrayals of siblings I can think of offhand. They have just the right mix of ride-or-die familial bond and squabbling.

Ardeth Bay's cheekbones cut more deadly than his sword tbqfh. (oops. but it's true.)

I should stop talking because this is so long. But if anyone wants to talk about anything Mummy-related, my inbox is very open!

[sir-yeehaw-paws]

Sequence 9 deserves its own post.

O YEA THIS IS THE BEST SHIT EVER.

THE WAY HAYTHAM JUMPS HIM FROM THE RAFTERS

Technically, dad. Aren't these your first words..?

WHAT is this grin Haytham WHAT IS THIS FACE-

HOW'S THAT FOR AN INTRODUCTION-

OH their dialogue is golden.

Haytham even calls it banter please.

EVERY SINGLE TIME CONNOR WANTS TO SPARE SOMEONE HAYTHAM SHOOTS THEM INSTEAD.

We love us some hereditary eagle vision amiright fellas.

OH GEE THANKS DAD!

He takes charge almost by default it's amusing as it is annoying *for Connor*

The way they can scale the roof tops together completely side by side without a single delay from either of them is really awesome.

I cannot get over the way the rapport was written from the word 'go' it's like they don't even MEAN to banter it just HAPPENS this way it's SO FUCKIN' FUNNY.

WHEN HE INTRODUCED CONNOR AS HIS SON HE LOOKED SO STUNNED.

Connor like "DID I HEAR THIS RIGHT??"

And..I never want to hear someone describe someone's mother as 'forest fruit' ever fucking again what the actual hell.

(Yes I'm aware it's period typical racism, and accurate racism depiction but DAMN)

Damn, Haytham's face when Connor tells him about Ziio..I get the sense that, even for as far off the deep end he's gone, he was being honest here.

Which, I do believe he's being completely honest. But as Connor rightfully points out:

Haytham's regrets don't change that. Nothing is going to change what Connor has to live with. The truth of what happened.

HAYTHAM. shsjsakjsdankasdknsakj-

Dad, if you keep getting in my stuff about my sailing I WILL be throwing you overboard.

..And he took Benjamin PERSONALLY.

Well! Suit yourself then.

ENJOY HELL.

"Good job on the assassinating m'boy" (Couldn't decide which cap I like better, uploaded both)

Aww Connor apologizing to Achilles. And he's got that shiny idealism again. And it's so damned EARNEST. The man genuinely has a good heart but the world is content to just keep STOPPING ON IT. And telling Connor it's bad to have one. Everyone has told him so too. But he hasn't lost hope yet and to be honest I sort of hope that he never does. He deserves to have that thread of happiness in him.

And honestly, even though we know this only has one outcome (tragedy) there's that earnest hopefulness in Connor that, if they did just work together they could be allied. And he could appreciate his dad properly. And Haytham him in turn. Obviously that's just not going to happen: given the fact Haytham continues to ally with Lee even though he burned Connor's mother alive. And that their ideals are just too opposed, it's still painful to see Connor having that spark. It's something he'd deserve but AGH.

Probably not, but Connor's hope here is endearing as it is tragic.

(Obviously he has a perfectly suitable father figure in Achilles, but the peace glasses that Connor wears make it so that yeah, this is automatically going to be something he wants-and who could blame him?) even knowing the inevitable of it all.

ANYWAY THIS WAS AS FUNNY AS IT WAS HEARTBREAKING I'M IN SHATTERS, TATTERS.

[cinnamonest]

When I first heard Cyno's title from leaks, as a good little simp, I went to investigate if a Mahamatra is something real.

Turns out, it is not only real, with being basically a morality police, but there's a type of Mahamatras whose duty is keeping tabs on women or something like that!

Imagine Cyno being also tasked as the keeper of the few women from Sumeru. He would, probably not intentionally, but terrify his darling by telling her how lucky she is to end up under his care. He treats the girls fairly, but once they are out of his watch to be distributed? He has seen the stuff men do to them. So stop complaining and be grateful for what he gives you! He actually treats you with decency.

(Fun fact! I had this entire thing already written and then windows auto-updated at some point while I was in urgent care bc I came home to it restarting and didn't save a temp recovery file in the appdata files :))))))

So I read a short entry about it, it seems like the exact responsibilities varied from subculture and households and communities, some of them over the general populace/common prostitutes but some of them were like a supervisor/babysitter + bodyguard combo to wealthier concubines and the like which is very :))))) and it also kinda reminds me of all the historical Chinese dramas where they have eunuchs that would guard emperor's wives and the like? And how a lot of cultures/eras within certain cultures had like "common prostitutes" and then like more elite brothels specifically for the wealthy/nobility/royalty that were often cared for, and some men would be appointed to watch over prostitutes and harems and the like

Sooooo I got to thinking of like a "more accurate to the time period the game is roughly based on" AU running with a similar idea (although of course I'm still wayyyyy deviating from historical accuracy entirely bc that makes things more fun)

//prostitute/concubine sort of darling, vaguely sexist stuff in a historical sort of way and heavily gendered, mentions of eunuchs because y'know historical AU stuff

---------------

Cyno being appointed to watch over and enforce rules on elite courtesans... Usually, these positions are only available to eunuchs, but some exceptions can be made for individuals who have been deemed worthy of the utmost trust, usually after proving themselves over the course of time. Thankfully, that's the classification he falls into... the notion of eunuchs makes him shudder to think about.

His dependableness, stoicism and clear self-control have earned him the trust of those in positions of authorities, and thus, he was assigned to this role. His observation skills and ability to keep tabs on more than one thing at once also helped. There's a few other such guards that take care of the lot of you as a whole, and that's part of his job as well, but he's the one personally assigned to you whenever you wish to go off on your own from the others, or into the public sphere.

He's not supposed to deny you that option, either, unless explicitly told not to by a superior, or if you want to go somewhere that is unallowed, in which case he is obligated to prohibit you from going. Otherwise, if you want to go somewhere, his job is to accompany you and tend to your whims, silently and stoically unless responding to something you say or speaking to a stranger on your behalf. Which he is expected to do, as you aren't allowed to speak to strangers, instead having him act as an intermediary.

When you go to markets (given a certain allowance of spending money to keep you happy and content), you point to the things you want or tell him what to get, and he does, speaking to merchants on your behalf. If someone approaches you for whatever reason - which is rare, seeing as most people know very well not to do so, especially with his intimidating presence beside you - he will, as he's trained and expected to do, physically step in between you and the other person, acting as a human shield in case someone were to approach you with the intent to attack, as well as a physical reminder of your status, communicating very clearly that the other individual should not be so arrogant as to assume he has any right to speak to you directly. And, of course, so you yourself don't get any ideas about talking to someone outside of the range of individuals you are allowed to speak to. If said individual is just pestering you to try and sell you something or harass you, he'll chase them off, otherwise he'll lean over so you can murmur your replies into his ear, allowing him to repeat it back to the other person.

As with that matter, with plenty of other scenarios, he's not just there to protect you. It's an unspoken condition, but understood nonetheless. He's there to keep an eye on your own behaviors. Your nature means that you can't be trusted to control your impulses or make good decisions, and if you weren't being closely watched, you may very well go off and sleep with someone else at the first opportunity you get. That's why you have him there, to ensure that that doesn't happen, to keep you in line, so to speak. Accompany you everywhere you go, sit in on your conversations with any and all visitors you have. To always know exactly where you are and what you're doing. For the few hours of night, there are guards at the end of the hall that watch the rooms where people are sleeping, but that's the only time he isn't by your side. Well, even then, he's assigned a room directly next to yours, even, to be able to spring up out of bed should you call for him, or if he's needed in any way, if you get sick in the night, and so on. So technically, he never really does leave your side.

Well, except for when one of the elites comes to "visit" you. Happens a few times a day, with the occasional break. Only certain individuals are allowed to do so. That's an important factor in your relationship. You live in a large complex, and only specific nobles and the highest-ranked individuals are allowed to enter your bed.

He's not one of them.

It's yet another class-standing issue. Sure, he may work for elites, he may dedicate his every waking moment to you and the others like you, but it would be considered defiling if he were to actually do anything to you. It's grounds for imprisonment... or worse. Only nobles have that privilege.

In truth, he resents said nobles. They're snobbish, selfish people that see you as an object, rather than a person. Usually cruel and critical towards you, never have anything nice or positive to say, always too busy to spend any time with you except to come to bed at night. It makes him grind his teeth, cover his ears so he doesn't have to hear. Likewise, you're supposed to act as though he couldn't possibly know, even though you both know full well he can hear anything that goes on in your room.

It makes him feel a very negative emotion. Anger? Bitterness? He tells himself it's because he knows they don't value you like you deserve. You've always been such a kind woman... he's seen you show concern and compassion for others, it's endearing. And in truth, while you're still of the weaker, inferior half of humanity, that kindness in and of itself is a very respectable thing... but those men would never appreciate that.

Yes, that's the real source of the anger, he knows that full well, and very quickly loses the ability to convince himself otherwise, after the first few weeks. It's because it feels unfair. They don't appreciate you, don't care for you, don't watch over you, they do nothing for you. He does all of that. He knows you far better. Yet they get to reap what logically should be his rewards.

But he stops that train of thought. "What should be his"? No, that way of thinking is dishonorable and selfish, defies the natural hierarchy of society. People of certain standing have privileges that lower members do not... even though he can't logically answer as to why. They just do. That is what is taught to the masses of the populace - the nobles and royalty deserve their palaces and wealth and feasts while the common man struggles to survive. A birthright bestowed by some higher power or the like. And as long as they have the ability to enforce that way of thinking, he has to accept it too.

And to even think of you in any way other than the purest of thoughts and a detached sense of guardianship, to have anything impure go through his mind, is sinful, filthy, almost a transgression when the thoughts intrude. It's his responsibility to push them away... even if that proves difficult.

No wonder they usually get eunuchs for this position. While the prospect is horrible, and he certainly doesn't envy them for obvious reasons, they do have the one advantage of not having to deal with the same extent of mental torment and temptation that he has to subject himself to. He starts to think he really didn't initially appreciate the trust placed in him enough, not realizing at the time of being appointed just how much willpower it would require.

And you don't make things any easier. To some extent, you're allowed to treat him like he's invisible, not even there. A lot of girls with such guardians do exactly that, pretty much never speaking to said appointed guardian unless needed, essentially going about their lives and acting like they don't even exist unless commanding them to fetch something or take care of some task.

You're rather talkative, though, at least with him. It is a bit surprising at first, albeit endearing. He's used to being seen as a tool, a sort of entity that exists to serve, and has been treated as such in past assignments in moral enforcement and dealing with violators of the society's rules, to the people he always reported to. He had some individual supervising roles before, but of all those jobs he's had in the past, you're the first one that's really... talked to him, for anything more than basic commands.

There's a good reason for that, too. You're not supposed to grow close to him in any capacity. It's not... proper, not right, it's frowned upon. There's no real given rule against it, but it's just one of those things that people don't do, that is understood without ever having to be addressed that you shouldn't. You're in a completely different world, your social role is too far apart from his for him to realistically be directly addressed by you so much.

And, of course, it's risky. People might get the wrong idea. Maybe it's just because you're quite literally trained in seduction and charm, but you always look at him with these half-lidded eyes, a sultry voice, a teasing way of speaking to him. It's basically just second nature to you, it's how you've always been taught to interact with every man you meet, to put on a flirtatiousness and sensuality with every word and every move and every expression.

It drives him up the wall, increasing with each day. The standards and norms of your role don't exactly dress you particularly modestly either, quite the opposite, which doesn't help. And you specifically are always on thin ice, always testing the boundaries, always pushing the limits of how much flirtatiousness can be excused. Perhaps that's why someone like him was assigned to you.

Well, he knows what he has to do. This is part of his job: correcting your behaviors when needed. There's a fine line of what he's allowed to tell you to do, an odd dynamic where you can tell him to do tasks for you, and yet, he also has the right - the obligation -  to command you, when it comes to certain matters of behavior, and he's expected to judge each situation appropriately, to not go too far in reprimanding you, to always criticize when he should while avoiding overstepping a line. It's a learned skill, requiring a thorough knowledge of rules both documented and silently understood.

Whenever you sit on the floor next to him as you and all your sisters-in-profession converse each evening, when you lean over onto him and reach your hand over to his thigh, he grabs your wrist, and gently, simultaneously avoiding both unnecessary harshness while also ensuring he doesn't grip you for a single moment too long, pushes you back. It's probably best you get on to bed, you are weary.

When you skip around all excited as you do whenever there's music in the courtyards, come over to him and reach up to wrap your arms around his neck, he grabs your hands and softly pushes them back to your chest. Please, be appropriate.

He makes sure you wear more modest clothing when you leave the main grounds, rather than those incredibly lewd outfits the nobles have you roaming around estate grounds in. Tells you to stop making eye contact and look downward and bow your head when stranger men approach, like you're supposed to. Always reinforcing standards and rules. You teasingly call him such a stick in the mud.

Better that, though, than subject to the wrath of higher-ups if he didn't perform his job.

When you shift to inappropriate topics, when you try and talk to strangers (he gets the sense you do it deliberately just to see him worry), when you stoop and bend and shift your legs in ways he knows is to catch attention. It's his responsibility to speak to you in a firm voice, tell you to behave yourself. You always roll your eyes, say something to the effect of affirming acknowledgement, but you never actually fix your behavior. It irritates him. Don't you know how serious what you do is? What if it wasn't him? What if it was anyone else? He asks you that, trying to get you to see reason, but even then, you shrug it off, clearly not understanding the gravity of the matter. It worries him. What if one day you get assigned to someone else, with far less self-control? What then? You're foolish and naive. It's a constant concern on his mind.

You don't mean it seriously, but you enjoy the reactions you get out of him in particular. You don't realize how significant it is, you think of it like just any other matter of poking fun at something. You think it's funny. You find it cute.

And far more dangerously, you think it's harmless.

Far from it, in reality. If people got the wrong idea, it could get him in trouble. Proof isn't needed for these sorts of things. If someone were to accuse him of something, it wouldn't matter if there was no evidence, or even if you were willing to testify or vouch in his favor. Your testimony can't be used in a court of law anyway. Even then, if the person accusing him was high enough in rank, there wouldn't even be a court of law, they would just command whatever their will may be. Not to mention, you would also get in massive trouble. The fact that you don't understand that, or at least don't take it seriously, is incredibly concerning.

He ends up having to draw a line. One night at random, completely unprovoked, so much so it catches him off-guard. You have always teased and poked fun at him with that grin on your face, tried to get him flustered and embarrassed. Overstepping the boundaries of appropriateness, which he always chastises you for as is warranted. You always obey for the moment, but return to the same thing within a matter of minutes.

The kind of teasing that bothers him the most, though, is when you pry about his own life, deeply personal things. There was that time you first managed to pry out of him that he wasn't a eunuch - oh, no, now I'm scared. Heheh... just kidding. There was the time you asked him if he had any children, or a lover back home. He had to reinforce the negative answer several times (crossing his arms and getting all stiff and looking away, which you seemed to find very amusing) before you believed him and left the matter alone.

And then, one night, walking back to your room with him by your side in the otherwise empty hall, you return to that topic he hates so much. You're so tense all the time. It's not good to be so stressed, you know.

Your footsteps stop. You turn to him with that smirk on your face, grab one of his hands and clasp both of your own around it, pulling it closer to you. You speak in that playful, sultry tone.

I can help you. No one has to know.

It actually takes him a second to reply, stunned into wide-eyed stillness and silence, an expression of shock you've never seen on his usually stoic face. His whole body goes stiff and rigid. Then, after that moment passes, he jerks his hand back out of your grasp with force, stumbles a few steps back. He looks back at you with a serious, intimidating expression, one that makes the grin on your face fall, makes you shrink back.

Never say such things to me.

Even in all the times you've been reprimanded, he's never used that firm and rebuking of a tone. It makes you take a step back. You hang your head, speaking quietly, all traces of the flirtatious tone from moments before vanished.

...I'm sorry.

You can hear the frustration as he lets out a heavy exhale. Brings his hand up to his face, rubbing at the bridge of his nose. Mutters something about how you're too careless for your own good.

Go on to bed. I will forget this. You ought to as well.

You clearly feel hurt and guilty, and in truth, he really does feel bad about it, almost starts to apologize for being so firm to you, as you nod and turn to your door, hurriedly shuffling inside. But consciously, he knows you needed that firmness. Better to learn that now, than learn it by making a much more grave mistake. So he lets you go inside without another word exchanged.

And more importantly, it's best you go inside so you don't see the state he's in. He's on the verge of losing composure, managing to hold himself together right up until the moment your door shuts, before stumbling back to the wall, leaning against it as he slowly sinks down to the ground. Holds his hand out in front of his face to see it trembling. Presses two fingers to his neck to feel the rapid pounding of his heart. It takes a while, sitting there staring blankly to your door on the other side, before he can bring himself to stand up again. Even then, he has to hesitate a moment. Going in there would be so easy. All he would have to do is open the door. Put one foot in front of the other. It would be so simple.

And there's a voice in the back of his head that says you would be right. No one would know. He could probably get away with it.

It takes every ounce of willpower in his entire being (and, as a great motivator, thinking of the consequences if he were caught) to instead turn and go back to his own bed. Staring up at the ceiling all night.

Yes, it really was incredible that they would trust him so much.

Not that he can bring himself to leave you, no. He's terrified of what could happen to you if he left, he clearly sees how you disregard all of his warnings as to how dangerous the way you behave would be to anyone else. And he also can't leave because... he cares for you too much. His whole life revolves around you. To remove you from it would be like tearing his heart of out his chest.

But at the same time, surely he can't stay. It feels like an hourglass reaching the last few grains of sand, like a clock slowly ticking down. Something is bound to happen. Because of you... or maybe, if something in him finally breaks, because of himself. Or maybe because of you both. It's evitable. Like an animal in a trap, and he doesn't know how to get out. The only thing to do is wait for the inevitable day something happens, perhaps because of you... but now he's starting to think his downfall will be his own doing.

[olderthannetfic]

A hanfu isn't just a robe, though. It's a specific type of traditional outfit that has even more specific variations, and while you could describe it more specifically (e.g. she put on her red ruqun, with a pleated horse-face skirt), it isn't always relevant. I've never seen anyone bring this up for, say, kimonos, and I don't think the GOT comparison is fair, either. It'd be more like "he puts on his armour". What type of armour—lamellar, chainmail, heavy, leather? It doesn't always matter. 1/2

--

2/2. Putting down a category of traditional clothing as "meta terminology" also rather irritates me. Again, looking at kimonos. Perhaps it's unfamiliar because CN fashion isn't as widespread as JP, but it's literally just what the broad category of clothing is called, and within the context of danmei fandoms, it shouldn't be unfamiliar knowledge. Trying to Americanize everything by simply calling everything a 'robe' loses the point entirely and is the equivalent of really terrible translation. Sorry, one more thing. When I picture a "robe", I think of wizards. DND. Bathrobes. None of which bear any similarity to a hanfu, and unless you want to describe "a parted robe made of flowing Yun brocade with loose sleeves that wraps around the body, with a wide collar that has its right lapel crossed over its left, tied at the waist with a belt, with a jade pendant weighing down the long skirt" every single time it's brought up, I'm pretty sure "hanfu" is a more accurate descriptor by far.

Uh... anon...

1.

'Robe' is an extremely vague term that absolutely is used for all sorts of garments from all over the world.

The fact that you associate it with a tiny fraction of its conventional meanings isn't going to change how other people use it.

2.

I am indeed more familiar with kimono than hanfu, but I thought the other people did make explicit what their issue is, and it exists for Japan too.

Depending on when your canon is set (or its vague, handwave-y apparent time period for more fantasy canons), the word may not have been in use yet.

'Kimono' as a word is possibly as recent as the 19th Century, though I see one etymological dictionary saying 1630s. Prior to the 19thC, a lot of things we would now call 'kimono' were known as 'kosode'. The further back you go, the more other terms there are and the more the distinctions matter.

I'm personally a fan of fiction set in the Heian period, and they would absolutely not have been calling anything a "kimono" then, nor do the robes look like modern kimono.

Furthermore, a generic-ass word like 'wear on upper body'+'thing' doesn't get its modern interpretation until it has significant competition from Western clothing. Today, it has a relatively narrow range of interpretations based on the calcified form of traditional Japanese clothing that still hangs on.

It's an absurd affectation to insist on calling all ancient Japanese clothing 'kimono'.

That wouldn't be de-Americanizing your writing.

That would be "According to keikaku".

--

From what I've seen in other people's meta posts about Chinese fandoms, the reason people object to 'hanfu' in fic is that this word has gained a lot of popularity in very recent history as part of the hanfu revival movement.

While it existed before that, it wasn't used so consistently, and it mainly turned up in contexts talking about Chinese as opposed to foreign clothing. It doesn't seem to have been a general term used like "So-and-so put on his completely normal outfit to get ready for the day".

People are using it (outside of fic) to talk about a specific range of historically accurate Chinese clothing. It doesn't cover everything, and in the modern and highly gatekept usage, it specifically doesn't cover historically-inspired fantasy costumes like those on The Untamed.

If you're Chinese and you feel it should cover those, fair enough, but that isn't what a lot of the hanfu education blogs have been saying.

People aren't pulling this out of their asses out of a desire to be American. They're getting it from hanfu blogs asking them not to use the word like that.

If you think those blogs are wrong, please say that.

[rotting-ink]

Will Mc be able to have piercings/tattoos?

Bc I was wondering how the Ro's would react to finding out a shy little witch having their nipples pierce 👉👈

So, Regency era (also im being such a shit head naming the period regency era but shhh ehehe) could get their ears pierced and little else. A few years later the Victorians got on board with nipple and genital piercings, fun fact.

So, piercings wise, I'm going to be a shit because, not-such-a-big-surprise, this is not historic Regency era. At all. It follows roughly the same fashions and trends as historically accurate England in Regency Era, but nah, history is different. There is a mad monarch and a regent in charge currently but that's where the history stops being similar.

So honestly? Why not, piercings will be a thing. As well as tattoos, but the Witch hasn't been able to get any yet. They have to do that in game.... If they dare.

ANYWAY:

L Rawlins: Oh dear lord. They're not a swooner, but that would take them WAY off guard. Stares. Going to be a struggle not to bite.

S Della Rovere- Oh, matching! Let's rub them together and make them clink!

Z Chambers- Open mouth. Stupidly, would ask "That's allowed?" Before their face crumples in mortification that they asked such a dumb thing. Starts grumbling and instead latches on to make you forget what they said.

V De Winters- Smirks and playfully flicks them. "Oh, look at you. Was feeling brave one day, hm?" Gonna tease them into oblivion.

Seir- Were probably with you when you got them, ngl. Either way, grins. "Bet these are all the more sensitive, hm?" Sometimes grope them semi publicly because they're the worst.

Saleos- A bit surprised. "Oh, look at you. All adorned, ready for me." Is going to be the one who wants to find you other piercings that are bejeweled, reds and golds.

Starling Knight- Blinks. One gloved hand coming down to squeeze gently. "Hm. Pretty." Then, in the meanest way, pinches your nipple, their eyes crinkling a bit. "What? Testing how sensitive you are."

A Lancaster- Depends on when you have sex with them for the first time. At the first opportunity? They're ripping at your shirt a bit more and stares. Blinks. Growls, "Obviously, I've misjudged you badly" and going to fucking bite at them. Later on, in a relationship? "Now, did you do these yourself? Because I refuse to believe you did these with someone else's help." Flat, but a small smirk playing on their lips.

E Rawlins- Eyes get all wide. Pupils large and black. Licks their teeth. Usually they leave hickeys on your neck and thighs but yeah, your chest is going to be COVERED.

Quincy Beaumont- Grins. "Awh. Was just thinking about getting you these. Beat me to it, hm?" Leans in to whisper, "Little harlot, aren't you?" And flicks them.

D Woolf- Goes the brightest red you've ever seen. Stutters. Makes a soft whining noise. "Can I....?" Wants to suck them so badly, nuzzling into them.

[piracytheorist]

Do you think any of the Forgers believe in ghosts or have a fear of the supernatural?

Anya is part of a supernatural force, courtesy of her mind-reading powers. And she's a child, so she definitely has some kind of belief or fear of something related. I wonder what kind of nightmares she might have and whether she has the instinct to run to someone for comfort after she's had one, cause she most likely didn't have someone to comfort her after one when she was in the lab or in any of the orphanages. Maybe the scientists drilled into her the thought that nightmares aren't real and there's no monster hiding under her bed or her closet.

She probably believes there are aliens and the kinds of monsters she comes up with.

She's like, five, and her imagination runs wild. And again, she herself is a result of human experimentation and has a dog that can see the future, so her imagination limits are probably even broader than the average five-year-old's. But I don't think she has a particular fear of ghosts or anything. Again, maybe the scientists took that fear away from her and maybe not in the kindest and most supportive of ways.

Twilight is a very logical person, and I doubt he believes in anything he cannot see or prove for himself. Even his own feelings are a difficult concept for him to grasp. Shameless self promo of my time loop fic, in which upon his realization that something supernatural is happening to him, he doesn't think "OMG magic is real! What else, am I gonna see ghosts or whatever?", instead he goes like "Okay, how do I work around this".

He's also a spy, putting himself in danger and dirtying his hands to create the world he wants. He doesn't seem to believe in a higher power or benign force that could help him in his mission; if he wants a better world, he has to work for it himself. He also probably doesn't fear of any divine judgment, I doubt he'd be able to do as much morally questionable stuff if he feared he'd be judged for them in the afterlife. He may not even believe in afterlife, period. How would he deal with the idea that, if judged for his actions, he wouldn't get to see his mother again in the afterlife?

As for Yor, she might be somewhere in the middle. Like Twilight, she took it upon herself to rid the world of dangers; she isn't expecting from a higher power to help her. No-one protected her and her brother when they were innocent, so she might as well dirty her hands to protect her brother, because what kind of a higher being that didn't help them when they needed it would have the footing to judge her for that?

That said, I wonder how accurate the translation of that line of hers is here. Cause here it sounds like she will be punished (by whom? Some higher power? The Shopkeeper if he finds out?) for thinking about harming an innocent person.

In the manga translation, it sounds like just by thinking of hurting an innocent person, she could jinx it and actually cause it to happen... or that if she thinks about it too much, she'll somehow end up convincing herself she should go ahead and harm Fiona?

In any case, she might lean more towards thinking supernatural things could happen, but it's not something that concerns her on a day-to-day basis. I don't think she fears of anything supernatural... if nothing else, because she might be confident enough she'll be able to fight off anything with harmful intentions. Gurl was absolutely ready to fight sharks if needed, I wouldn't doubt she'd be able to kick some ghost and demon ass no problem. I doubt she fears of divine judgment either, but unlike Twilight it wouldn't be because she doubts it exists, but because she concerns herself with the present and protecting what she cares about now. Future her can worry about that. And then kick the ass of the deity or demon punishing her for committing murder on the regular because excuse me sir where were you when me and my brother were two starving war orphans? Yeah, thought so.

(anime only here, don't spoil me for the manga)