#sorry why am i just talking about him in the tags now

[formulawolff]

"you belong here" - s.v.

pairing: gf!reader x aston martin!sebastian vettel

word count: 1.5k

warnings: (slight) age gap relationship, a little bit of cursing here and there, seb being absolutely down bad for the reader, some (slight) angst, the general public being judgmental, (slight) slut shaming, the drivers being little shits (as always), yadayadayada

a/n: i am a perfectionist when it comes to writing personalities, mannerisms, cadences of words, etc. so if i happened to not do the best job with this fic, please be patient with me!!! this is my first time writing for seb!!! i am open to feedback!!! <3

"okay, from the top. how many drivers are there?"

"twenty."

"nope!" he shakes his head, his lips curling into a smug smirk, "there are nineteen drivers. sorry love, but you were incorrect."

"sebastian," you scoff, rolling your eyes, "you needed to specify if you were included. because if you weren't included, there would be nineteen other drivers. if you were, there would be twenty."

"that's why it's called a trick question," his hand squeezes yours, "your hands are clammy, by the way."

"maybe because i'm nervous?" you counter, "this is my first time tagging along to a grand prix, you know."

"i know," he brings your hand to his mouth, kissing it tenderly, "i'm sorry for being a little pest."

"you're not a pest," your heart swells at the gesture, "i'm just anxious to meet everyone, that's all."

"oh they'll love you," confidence oozes out of his words, "i have no doubts about that."

sebastian vettel, four time world drivers' champion, was your boyfriend of the last year or so. the two of you met online, as you had slid into his dms on instagram after a very intoxicated evening out with friends.

since you had a love for formula one since you were a teenager, you admired drivers such as lewis hamilton, nico rosberg, daniel ricciardo, and well, sebastian.

you weren't quite sure where the love for the sport came from, but you could remember the sleepless nights you spent on youtube, eagerly clicking through racing highlights through various grand prixes. the sleepovers where your friends would be doing makeovers on you or painting your nails as you chattered about all of the driver drama and lore.

so, when you learned that mr. vettel was very single, and very open to the world of dating, you decided to shoot your shot. it took about six or seven drinks, but you mustered the courage to type out those fateful words.

i heard your single. we should change that.

shockingly, you received a response not too long after sending the message.

i believe it's *you're and not your. why should i take you up on your offer? you're a very beautiful woman but i need a little more information before i take you out on a date. ;)

from that message, the two of you chatted constantly, getting to know one another in-between shifts at your job, and his free time between races, press conferences, and training sessions.

eventually, he asked for your number, requesting a facetime call. you obliged, the two of you talking for hours upon hours that night. only a week or so later, he flew you out to his place in switzerland, requesting that you spend the weekend with him.

you did, falling for him the moment you met him in person. well, not like it was difficult by any means. with his charming aura and goofy persona, you felt comfortable almost immediately, letting your walls come crashing down.

nothing was too much or too out-of-pocket. you could make all of the vulgar jokes you wished, and he would laugh right along, only escalating the joke further. you could cry on his shoulder about anything, and he would happily rub your back, wiping away the tears that fell. he would hold you every night you slept together, not letting go until you wriggled away in the mornings.

and now, here you were, hand-in-hand as you entered the paddock. your heart skips a beat as your gaze falls on lance stroll, sebastian's fellow driver and teammate.

upon seeing you, his mouth curves into a bright smile, "look who it is!"

"i know you're not that excited to see me," sebastian pouts, "or did you really miss me that much?"

lance rolls his eyes at sebastian, sticking out his right hand, "good morning! i'm lance. i'm the other aston martin driver. well, you probably already know that."

"it's nice to meet you," you suppress a giggle, "i've heard a lot about you!"

"oh have you?" lance arches a brow, turning to sebastian, "have you been talking shit?"

"always pooks," sebastian chuckles, "not really. i just happen to talk a lot about racing. i'm sure she's tired of it by now."

"oh never," you flash sebastian a radiant grin, "i never get tired of all of the racing talk. i've loved formula one since i was about thirteen or so."

"that's awesome!" lance gushes, "you have yourself a keeper then, seb."

"i know i do," you feel his arm wrap around your shoulder, "should we go meet some fans? i promise they won't bite."

"fans?" you echo, a shiver running down your spine.

"well yeah," lance nods, "we have some time before we need to meet up with everyone. we usually chat with some fans, hand out some autographs. nothing too serious or glamorous."

"if you say so," you mumble, the words so quiet you were shocked you heard them.

it wasn't like you were dreading interacting with fans, it was just that you were a bit daunted by the idea.

ever since sebastian went public with you about a month ago, the reaction from the public was mixed. one half was adamant that you were too young for the driver, as there was an almost fifteen year age gap between the two of you. the plethora of negative comments that flooded the comment section of your instagram posts was almost too much to bear.

the other half, however, was very supportive, voicing that they "shipped" the two of you or that you were good for the driver. some comments even went as far to say that you were "a breath of fresh air", and that sebastian needed someone like you in his life.

yet, as the three of you stroll out of the paddock, you hoped for the latter. that the fans would be kind, welcoming you with open arms.

you could only dream, right?

"sebastian!"

"sebastian over here!"

voices flurry about, calling from all directions. everywhere all around, it was almost a sea of green, fans donning aston martin gear from head to toe. people of all ages flooded your field of vision, children hoisted on their parents shoulders to men and women in their seventies, maybe even their eighties.

"baby, can i see your purse?" his breath fans against your ear, snapping out of your trance.

"yeah," you nod, fumbling with your bag, "y-you need your sharpie, right?"

"hey," fingers find yours, intertwining them together, "it's just you and i. forget everyone else. just think about you and i."

"it's hard to-" you protest, yet you're swiftly cut off by a voice rising above the midst of the crowd.

"who invited the slut?"

sebastian's brows furrow, his eyes narrowing into slits, "what the fuck?"

more voices cut in, jeering.

"put her back in her crib! where she belongs!"

"you heard what i said! who invited that slut beside you?"

"goddamn," lance mutters under his breath, "what the fuck are they on right now?"

tears well up, threatening to spill over as you duck your head, lower lip trembling. sebastian senses your energy shift, wrapping a protective arm around your waist. he pulls you in close, pressing gentle kisses along your temple.

"come on, let's go back to the paddock. you don't deserve this."

lance flashes you a sympathetic glance before raising a hand, giving the crowd the finger, "whoever said that, this is for you!"

every aspect of the walk back is blurred as the tears fall. your lips are sealed tightly shut, suppressing the sobs rising in your chest.

you were barely here an hour and fans were already heckling you.

could you even last the weekend here?

did you even belong here?

"hey," his voice is soft, "come here."

blinking, you realize that he had taken you back to his motorhome, a private space for just the two of you. his arms are open, inviting you in. you nearly collapse into his chest, burying your head in it as he rubs your back.

"i'm so sorry."

"you don't have to be sorry," you shrug, swallowing the lump in your throat, "they're right. i don't belong here."

"stop that," fingers grasp your chin, tilting your head up, "you do belong here. you belong here just as much as anyone else does. i need you here."

"you promise?"

"i promise baby," sebastian tucks a few wisps of hair behind your ear, "you're irreplaceable. who cares what they think? just focus on me. it's just you and i this weekend, okay?"

"okay," you nod, sniffling slightly.

"you know what i think?" he leans in, the tip of his nose brushing against yours.

"what?" you inquire, the tears dissipating as he brings you in closer.

"they're just jealous that i have the most breathtaking, stunning, kindest, funniest girlfriend in the whole wide world. and no one, i mean no one, can take that away from me. you're mine baby. and nothing is ever going to change that."

you find yourself nearly crumbling into his chest once again, "you mean that?"

"of course i do. now, let's go try this again. if anyone is rude or hateful, i'll just spit on them, okay?"

[waynes-multiverse]

Polaris – Chapter 7

Series Summary: When Beau Arlen moved to Montana, he left behind a past he wasn’t proud of. But when a series of murders requires the FBI’s help, Sheriff Arlen‘s ghosts come back to haunt him one by one. With a wrong turn waiting at every crossroads, it’s hard to make the right choices and find his way back home – back to you.

Pairing: Beau Arlen x FBI Agent!Reader

Warnings: 18+, fluff, angst, serial killer, mentions of cartels, grief, smut

Word Count: 7.2k

A/N: The chapter where we find out why Ted is on Beau's punch list aka The One With Ted... 😂

Series Masterlist || Main Masterlist || Tag List

Chapter 7: Storm Coming

May 2021

“I sold the house,” you said, your voice ripping through the quiet of the car during another starry stake-out night.

“So you’re homeless now?” Beau joked and peeled his eyes away from the front window view and glanced at you from the driver’s seat, his hand resting on the steering wheel, the other one in his lap.

You chuckled. “Yup, but I got a hot plate now in my motel room and one of those Italian moka pots. So, you know, some would say I’m living the dream.”

Beau snorted in amusement before he pensively rubbed his mouth with two fingers. “You didn’t have to sell the house, you know?”

You heaved a sigh. “Yeah, I kinda did, though… I didn’t like staying in there anymore. It’s just… too many memories, I guess? ‘Sides, I’m always down here anyways. Actually considering moving here.”

Beau frowned at you, his nose scrunching. “What, to Mexico? Are you nuts? Over my dead body are you doin’ that.”

“Oh, I’m sorry. I didn’t know you had a say in it,” you retorted rather playfully and put a shocked palm on your chest in mock.

“Damn right, I do,” Beau scoffed his reply with a teasing grin. “Who do you think is lookin’ out for ya, huh?”

“Wait, you think you are? That’s what you believe?” You snorted a laugh, entering banter territory with him.

It was usually how you passed your time during most of these stake-outs – laughing, teasing, and the occasional talking about your problems. You’d never known Beau like this before. He was your husband’s best friend, but he had been more of an acquaintance to you. Now, after months of spending close to every day together, it felt like he was your best friend. Since Randy’s death, he’d been there for you, even if it was mostly out of guilt.

“Yeah, what d’you think?” Beau countered challengingly.

“Oh sweetie, you’re not looking after me. I’m looking after you,” you stated confidently. The smile that twitched on his lips seemed to actually agree with you. “Out of the two of us, you’re the way bigger wreck. Some would even think it’s your husband who died, not mine.”

“Are you calling me a girl?”

You coolly shrugged your shoulders. “Either I’m calling you a girl, or I’m calling you gay. I’ll let you pick.”

Laughingly, Beau scoffed and muttered, “You wish I was gay.”

However, you still heard his mumbled reply and responded, “Actually, I wish you were a girl and that I was gay.”

Beau stared at you and leaned back against the door for a better view of you, his brow raised and the corners of his lips drawn slightly upwards in amusement. “What are we even talking about?”

“I don’t know,” you admitted with a shake of your head.

The two of you then burst into loud laughter that filled the entire SUV. For a moment, all your sorrows and hardships seemed to be forgotten, carried away to the desert with the nightly breeze. Then, the familiar and comfortable quiet took over the car again.

“I’m moving out of the house, too,” Beau said, his eyes focusing on the barren landscape and desolate road ahead. “I’m giving it to Carla. I mean, she didn’t ask me to. God knows she can take care of herself… But I want Emily to keep living in the home she grew up in, you know?”

“Yeah, I get that. That’s really nice,” you said quietly. Your soft smile then morphed to a grin. “So you’re homeless, too, huh?”

Beau laughed, throwing his head back into the seat. “Yeah, guess I am. Maybe we should live together?” he suggested half-jokingly.

“Like roommates? Ugh, God no!” You scoffed in abhorrence. “We’re way too old for that. You’re over forty, I’m barely in my thirties–”

“You do know I know exactly how old you really are, right?” Beau teased.

You decided to ignore that jab and continued, unbothered. “It would be seriously so sad. The Widow And The Divorcee – sounds like the worst sitcom on the planet. ‘Sides, it’d be super awkward if one of us starts dating again.”

“Fine, maybe you’re right,” Beau relented with a soft chuckle and then glanced at you sideways. His heart gained speed in his chest. “You ever think about it? Dating? Gettin’ out there again? Been nine months.”

You twitched your shoulders, choosing not to look at him. “I don’t know. Is nine months long enough after your husband died?”

Thoughtfully, Beau licked his lips and let out a small sigh. “I don’t think there’s a timeline, or a right and wrong. I just think it’s one of those things that when you’re ready, you’re ready.”
 “Well, consider me not ready then, I guess,” you replied honestly.

“Alright,” Beau accepted, bobbing his head. “But I still think you should try again at some point, you know? You shouldn’t be alone for the rest of your life. First of all, it’d be a total waste, ‘cause, I mean, look at you. And secondly, you’re barely in your thirties, after all,” he repeated your earlier joke with a soft grin.

You felt the heat creep to your cheeks in the moonlight. As you looked at him, you could see his smirk, making you laugh. “Noted,” you replied and were thankful for his pep talk. “I mean, there’ve been offers.”

Beau quirked one eyebrow, a hard lump forming in his throat as his chest tightened. “Offers? Like plural? Who?”

“Well, just some of the guys from our team. Cody, Jordan, Ted…” you named a few. “Also a few locals. Remember those guys we played pool with a few weeks ago? Two of ‘em asked for my number.”

“Huh. That is plural…” Beau pursed his lips and couldn’t keep his brow from wrinkling, his grip on the steering wheel stiffening. “Well, you know, when you’re not ready, you’re not ready. Shouldn’t force anything. No rush, darlin’.”

Smooth, Beau thought wryly with an internal sigh.

“Right, I know,” you agreed. “I do miss sex, though. Getting kinda bored of my vibrator.”

Beau choked on his spit. “Jesus…”

“What? Am I not allowed to talk about it? I thought we were friends. You’re supposed to care about my well-being and happiness,” you argued, frowning.

“I do care. Just… Can we please not talk about that?” he begged and exhaled a deep breath, pinching the bridge of his freckled nose.

“Fine. I miss having women around…” You shrugged and muttered, “Didn’t peg you for a prude.”

“Okay, let’s just get one thing straight – I’m not a prude,” he clarified in defense, his cheeks turning a deep shade of red.

“Alright, also noted,” you quipped, smirking to yourself. Sometimes you enjoyed making him a little uncomfortable. His blushed cheeks could be quite cute. “What about you? Have you still not talked to Carla? I’m sure you can win her back if you tried. You’re a lot better now.”

“Well, thank you for the, uh, vote of confidence, but it’s really over, I guess. We just talked about all the divorce proceedings last time. I actually think she started datin’ someone recently,” Beau told you.

Your eyebrows rose in surprise. “Really? Who?”

“I guess some rich tech guy. I don’t know…”

“And you’re good with that?” you questioned in disbelief.

Beau scoffed a humorless chuckle, shaking his head. “Ha, no… But what am I gonna do? Kinda shot myself in the leg with that one. I don’t blame her for moving on. It’s been over for months now.”

“That sucks. I’m sorry. I was kinda rooting for you two,” you admitted.

“Well, thanks, but we weren’t you and Randy,” Beau said. It made your brow knit.

“What d’you mean?”

“C’mon, you know what I mean,” Beau replied as if it were obvious, but you still shook your head. He sighed. “You and Randy would’ve never gotten divorced.”

“You don’t know that.” Honestly, you doubted it yourself, but you were too curious to find out what he meant by his statement.

“I do know that,” Beau insisted with certainty. “You guys had that once-in-a-lifetime kinda love. The kind that made other people jealous, you know? Your love made every other relationship pale in comparison. I always figured once the honeymoon phase was over, you’d settle and be less vomit-inducing, but that never happened. Me and Carla were never like that. Not even in the beginning,” he explained, a small, soft smile shaping his mouth. “You guys were special. True love. The stuff folk singers write cheesy songs about.”

“I guess we were,” you mused quietly, the memory of everything Randy was to you causing tears to well in your eyes.

“Hey, I’m sorry,” Beau apologized as soon as he noticed the sadness on your face. He reached his hand over to your side and squeezed your thigh gently, just above the knee.

“No, it’s alright,” you brushed him off, swallowing your heartache down. “But hey, if Carla wasn’t your once-in-a-lifetime, maybe she’s still out there. You just haven’t found her yet. I mean, that’s kinda a nice outlook, right?”

Licking his lips, he bobbed his head, his gaze focused on his hand on the steering wheel. “I doubt it.”

“Why? Never say never,” you said encouragingly.

“Well, maybe I already met her, and it’s too late now,” he replied. It sounded more like an actual fact than a hypothetical theory. You found yourself wondering.

“What, did you have like an old college flame? The one that got away?” you teased lightheartedly, but he only grew more serious.

“Somethin’ like that,” he replied vaguely, rubbing his mouth with his fingers.

“Look her up on Facebook. Maybe she’s divorced, too. You could reconnect or something,” you suggested. He nodded but didn’t seem too convinced. You then shot him a hesitant glance from your periphery. “So, now that Carla’s moving on, are you gonna start dating now, too? Jump back into the game?”

“I guess so… Why?” A part of him was curious to hear your response, while another part reminded him that his desired answer was only wishful thinking – and completely insane on top of that.

“That fiery brunette lady at the bar last night seemed really interested in you. Maybe you should hook up with her if she’s there again tomorrow night?” you proposed in earnest.

Wide-eyed, Beau blinked at you in incredulity – like you had lost your goddamn mind. “I’m sorry, what?! Hook up? Who are you right now? Are you tryin’ to set me up?”

“Yeah.” You shrugged simply, not seeing what the big problem was. “Don’t look at me like I’m trying to convince you to get a tramp stamp above your ass with a dirty needle. I’m just trying to be a good wingman… woman. Randy would’ve tried to set you up, right?”

Beau sighed frustratedly. “Yeah, he would’ve,” he admitted in a grumble and then barked, slightly more furious, “But you ain’t him. And I don’t want you to be, so stop it, alright?”

“Geez, I’m sorry. I was just trying to help,” you mumbled defensively and raised your hands in surrender, unsuccessfully hiding your upset over his reaction. He felt guilty when he saw the small pout on your face.

Beau rubbed his forehead before dragging his palm over the rest of his face. “I know. I’m sorry, too,” he said and let out a deep breath through his nose. “I just-… I guess I’m just waiting, okay?”

“Waiting for what?”

Beau squeezed his eyes shut for a moment. For you to be ready, he wanted to say. But he couldn’t very well do that now, could he?

“For Christ’s sake, Y/N…” he breathed exhaustively. That was all he managed to say. With his palm on his mouth, he rested his elbow against the car door, gazing out the window.

“Why are you so upset?” you asked, your brow woven with confusion.

“Switch subjects,” he requested.

It was a phrase the two of you used whenever you didn’t want to talk about something anymore. When someone pushed too much, or the topic got too emotional and you needed a break. The only rule was to always respect the request, so you had no choice but to let it go after that.

“The Texans game sucked last night, huh?”

That elicited a snort from him, and he looked at you with a warm smile. “Yeah, goddamn awful.”

“How many times are you gonna watch those?”

Beau’s question broke your concentration. Your gaze snapped from your laptop screen to his concerned face. You’d been rewatching the victims’ videos for four days straight now, trying to find more clues. Maybe even something that directly led to Diane.

“I keep thinking maybe I’ve missed something,” you mumbled and stared back into the computer, your teeth gnawing on the pen between your lips. “It’s 48 hours each. We have twenty-four victims. I keep watching them sped-up to get through them all, but maybe I should slow ‘em down. I mean, I’ve watched them full-length, normal speed a couple of times before, but maybe I should watch ‘em even slower and really focus, you know? There’s gotta be something there…”

Bobbing his head worriedly, Beau pursed his lips and took a scan of your desk. He counted eight empty cups of coffee and five cans of energy drinks. There were bags under your red eyes and your hands were jittering. He knew you hadn’t slept a lot. He tried to hold you in his arms, but as soon as he dozed off, you snuck out and went back to work.

Beau shut the laptop. “You’re cut off.”

“Hey!”

“Y/N, you need to sleep. Just look at you, darlin’. This obsession isn’t healthy. I’m taking you home,” he declared sternly, ignoring your protests. You were pretty sure he had used his dad voice, too.

“Y/N, you need to sleep. Just look at you, darlin’. This obsession isn’t healthy. I’m taking you home,” he declared sternly, ignoring your protests. You were pretty sure he had used his dad voice, too.

“I need that woman in prison, Beau.”

“You startin’ to sound like Jenny…” Beau quipped under his breath.

“We’re running out of time. There’s only one day left before the next victim drops,” you stated and tried your best to keep your voice steady as it broke off towards the end.

“I know.” Beau clasped your shoulder and squeezed gently. “And we’ll get her. I promise you. But you’re no good to any of us if you’re exhausted and losing it right now.” You nodded and rose from your chair. He wrapped his arms around you and pulled you flush against him, kissing the top of your head affectionately. “How about some dinner, huh?”

You grinned warmly. “What, like a second date?”

“Exactly like a second date,” Beau said and mirrored your grin. He was making up for lost time as best as he could, even if it meant taking you out every night for the rest of your life.

Your phone buzzed on the table, your brow quirking at the number. Eagerly, you picked up and wound yourself out of Beau’s embrace. “Special Agent Y/L/N… Uh-huh… Great, thank you.”

Beau pursed his lips. “We’re not going out, are we?”

“‘fraid not, Sheriff.” You shook your head and chuckled at his groan. “That was IT. They’re finally done and sending over the IP addresses.”

“Alright, guess I’m gettin’ take out,” Beau announced with a small sigh, knowing the two of you were in for a long night – and not the one he had planned.

You smiled and pecked his lips. “Thank you.”

August 2020

Beau’s heart thudded frantically in his chest as his knuckles tapped your front door in the early evening. The sky was a color spectacle full of azures, indigos, and apricots as the summer sun slowly set. His boots only stood on that same spot not even twenty-four hours ago. It still felt like a surreal nightmare he couldn’t escape, his hope to wake up soon a ceaseless prayer.

He’d stayed with you all night, held you as you cried yourself to sleep. Beau awoke on your couch with your head resting on his thigh and a strange feeling in his gut. He couldn’t help but think you were beautiful, even in a state of utter turmoil, shoving said thought swiftly down into the depths of his darkening soul.

But he’d spent all day thinking of you, plagued by guilt and torn by misplaced feelings. He’d sat through hours of interviews, going over and over the events of last night till his mind spun like a hamster wheel. He was forced to fill out forms, sign documents, and recount each unforgettable step. He’d listened to lectures, sermons, and admonitions. His captain gave him a tongue-lashing that sounded like mere white noise before he was sent home with a suspension – investigation pending.

Only he didn’t go home; he came here.

At home, his wife and daughter were waiting – for a husband, a father, an explanation. None of which he could provide. Beau wanted to wallow in his grief, his guilt, his loss in peace. He lacked the strength to be strong, play pretend, and act above it all. He wanted to be punished, sent to perdition, and held accountable for his lapse of judgment. A suspension wasn’t good enough. It barely patched the abysmal gaps in his heart.

The only suitable punishment was you. Witnessing your suffering was his personally crafted hell. You were the broken remnants of his destruction, the shattered pieces of his idiocy, the explosive fallout of his arrogance.

And you hadn’t answered a single call or text of his. His torturous worry was part of his penalty.

Consecutive rings of the doorbell and incessant knocks remained unanswered. For a moment, Beau rested his forehead on the door. He felt helpless and clueless all the same. You had friends and family to take care of you, probably better suited and closer to you than him, but somehow he felt burdened with the responsibility.

He took the spare key out of the left-side planter and barged inside. The ground floor was deserted. Last night’s uneaten dinner still sat untouched on the table. It felt like a whiplash against his bare back.

Bolting upstairs, he found the door to the main bedroom ajar. He pried it open slowly, the sight of you delivering his second lashing. This time, he felt the sting burning through to his heart.

He found you curled up in bed, on your husband’s side, in your husband’s t-shirt, with your wedding photo album clutched tightly in your arms. His breath halted for a moment; his heart did, too.

Did he do this? Was this all his fault?

“Y/N?” His deep voice was quiet and careful as he spoke. Slowly, he walked over to your side and knelt down in front of you. “Darlin’, hey… You need to get up. Eat somethin’.”

Beau was sure you hadn’t moved all day. He didn’t ask you if you were alright or how you were doing. The question seemed insulting. The answer was obvious. Your phone was lighting up on the nightstand with a million unanswered calls and messages, his own among them. Your beautiful eyes were vacant, red, and empty. You didn’t cry, however, not anymore. You were dehydrated and all out of tears at this point. You never looked at him, not even a glance.

“I want him back,” you whispered, your voice coarse from screaming, crying, cursing.

Beau nodded, licking his lips. Caringly, he caressed your head, brushing a few strands of messy hair out of your face. “I know. I hope you know I’d trade places with him in a heartbeat if I could.”

For the first time your eyes found his. Your gaze was scathing and piercing. “Tell me what happened.”

Beau let out a harrowing sigh. He had rehashed the story all day long. He wasn’t sure if he could do it again, but maybe this version was the most important one. Who deserved the truth more than you?

“Y/N, I don’t think this is such a good idea, darlin’,” Beau tried to reason, mostly for himself. He wanted to hold on a little longer, the idea of you hating him tearing him apart. He wanted to spare himself the additional guilt, the anger, the hurt.

“Tell me or leave.”

Beau closed his eyes and nodded hesitantly. “Okay, alright.” He took a deep breath and settled down on the floor, leaning his back against the wooden bedside table. “We were closing in on that biker gang. Few murders, arms trafficking, drug deals… You know the drill. I’m sure Ra-… he filled you in.”

Not that long ago, Randy had asked you for advise on the case. You gave him your contacts in the DEA and a number to a CI.

“Your DEA guy warned us. Said the gang was working closely with the cartel down in Juárez. But I had my own intel that only a few members were meeting at the Hatcher warehouse in MacGregor. It was supposed to be a small deal. But I figured it could lead to bigger things if we shook ‘em down, you know? But fuckin’ Harper told us no like usual. Refused to give us back-up. Said to pass the case on to the DEA. But Randy and I worked our asses off the last few months to get even this far. We were so close. I didn’t wanna let go… So, I suggested we go in anyways. It was supposed to be only three guys from the gang. I knew if we were smart about it, we could easily take ‘em down, you know?”

You rolled onto your back and propped yourself up on the bed. Shaking your head, you chuckled humorlessly and grabbed the half-empty whiskey bottle from the nightstand. “‘Course you did. It’s not the first time you broke a rule or shit on authority.”

“Yeah, and I was right every single time,” Beau bit. His anger wasn’t geared at you but at himself. He knew he was in the wrong. He flew too close to the sun and got burned. But he still felt the need to defend himself, even if it was unjustified.

His gaze drifted to the dresser and the patch of wall above it, decorated with photographic evidence of yours and his partner’s life together. The wedding, dates, vacations, holidays – it was all there. Beau had watched it all, start to finish. He wished he could rewind the tape and cut off the ending, all so you could have the love of your life back. He didn’t know yet your cassette had a B-side. One that featured him.

“You got fucking lucky, is all,” you scoffed.

“Randy backed me up on it!”

“Of course he did! You’re his fucking partner! He would’ve followed you anywhere if you asked him to,” you snapped, shaking your head. You gulped down some whiskey then and locked your jaw before you met his eyes again with a glare. “And? What happened then, Beau? Was it only three guys?”

“No.” The word was almost inaudible. He shook his head with a harsh swallow. “They were meetin’ with a few cartel members there. My intel never said anything about that. When we were inside and saw what was really going on, it was already too late to get out. They made us, bullets started flyin’… They got a hold of Randy and… shot him.” A tear escaped down his cheek, his throat closing as he tried to choke out the last bit of the story. “I had to leave him there. I barely got out myself. I’m sorry, Y/N. I know this is on me.”

Your lips twitched with a bitter smile. You didn’t look at him, just rubbed your tired eyes. “Damn right it is. Get out.”

“Y/N, please–”

The storm in your eyes made him stop as you met his gaze, his useless apologies becoming stuck in his throat. “I said, get out. I ain’t asking a third time. You’re the reason my husband is dead. You’re the reason I don’t even have a body to bury. So, get the fuck out.” Like a snakebite, your words were targeted, sharp, and venomous.

You finally got out of bed and prodded towards the en-suite bathroom. The truth had been what you needed to switch the fighter inside of you back on. You knew what you wanted to do then and were determined to get it.

“Y/N–”

“Do you know what cartels do to bodies, Beau? To rivals? To law enforcement? ‘Cause I just came back from a job where we found forty-eight decapitated bodies, left to rot inside the walls of a house. Still haven’t found the heads yet. Probably never will,” you told him and stared him dead into his dark green eyes. “Ever seen that before, desperado?”

Beau bit his lips, averting his gaze. “No.”

“Yeah, didn’t think so.” You scoffed and crossed your arms over your chest. “Now, leave. Please. Get the fuck outta my house. I don’t wanna see you anymore,” you spat and slammed the bathroom door shut behind you.

Beau then grabbed the whiskey bottle you’d left and walked out of your home. It was the first of many nights he started to drink himself to sleep, but at least it kept the nightmares temporarily at bay.

“Theodore.” Beau forced a bright smile onto his freckle-dusted face, although the stiff features could barely fool anyone. At least, they wouldn’t have fooled you.

“Beau, good to see you again.” Ted smiled and did a more convincing job of it as he waltzed into Lewis and Clark County’s Sheriff’s Department. It almost seemed like he meant it. “I was surprised when Y/N told me you got a gig as a sheriff here.”

Translation: I was surprised because you were such a fuck-up back in Texas.

Beau feigned a chuckle. “Yeah, I bet you were.”

“Hopefully, you’re givin’ the DAs here less headaches,” Ted jabbed under the disguise of friendly banter. He then turned to Jenny with that same shit-eating grin. “Your sheriff is a little troublemaker.”

Sweet Lord, Beau wanted to whack the bastard.

The blonde deputy coolly brushed the accusation off. She shrugged and playfully nudged Beau’s arm, sending the Texan attorney a smile. “I prefer him that way.”

“Hey, there she is!” Beau smiled with frazzled relief when you finally hurried into the station. A little while longer, and he definitely would’ve thrown a punch.

“Hey, Ted. Thanks for coming. How was your flight?” You greeted him with a warm smile and a quick hug.

“Good, good. Never been to Montana before,” Ted said and then let his eyes wander up and down your body. “Look at you. You look great!”

“Oh, uh, thanks.” You subtly cleared your throat. You could physically feel Beau stiffen next to you. In your periphery, you could spy a tightly clenched jaw and a few strained muscles in his neck.

“Mind if Y/N and I borrow your office, Sheriff Arlen?” Ted asked and emphasized his title. “Considering the nature of this case, I’d like to keep it as private as possible. Don’t want anything to reach Ms. Newton’s ears.”

Your hunch had been right. Several IP addresses pointed to Diane, some to public Wi-Fi’s. You and the team still needed to connect her to the other states and find out where she’d been staying there, but you could definitely trace some posts in recent weeks to her home in Montana. It was enough for an arrest warrant, but you still needed more evidence.

Additionally, it had all come together a little too easily. It seemed like a giant trap you were walking into. Diane wanted to be caught. But why?

“Why don’t I just join you? I’m sure Y/N here doesn’t mind,” Beau suggested with a tight smile and then snaked his arm around your middle, pulling you closer. “Ain’t that right, darlin’?”

Internally, you sighed a little at his obvious territorial pissing, but you were willing to throw him a bone. You stretched up and claimed his plump lips in a fervent kiss that Beau only all too happily reciprocated.

“Not at all, Sheriff. You know I always appreciate your input,” you replied with a dirty smirk at the double entendre.

As Beau looked down at you, he mouthed ‘God, I love you.’ You grinned in response.

“Happy to give it to you,” he said with another sweet peck of your lips. A triumphant and slightly cocky grin graced his lips as he looked back at Ted.

“Oh, so you two are back together?” Ted realized, his brow rising to his hairline. He’d never seen you two together but certainly had heard the whispers down in Mexico from your old task force. He’d been the DA for those cases as well. You’d never explicitly told him about you and Beau, though, even when he had tried to pry a little on those dates you went on.

“Well, I’m a hard one to quit,” Beau quipped almost proudly, like a peacock showing off his fan of feathers.

“As are cigarettes and many other vices,” Ted shot back with the same stupidly proud grin.

Translation: You’re an ass. And a failure. She deserves so much better. I’m ‘better.’ But maybe that didn't need a translation.

Beau should’ve known it was hard to out-argue a lawyer and ground his jaw. After all, he’d been married to one for many years.

You, on the other hand, shared a wide-eyed and baffled look with Jenny that bordered on amusement. You had almost gasped in shock. You hadn’t expected such a fiery reply, sure the men would stick to their Southern manners. But, oh well, everyone’s packing in fucking Texas…

“Why don’t you two go ahead? I’ll join you in a minute,” you ordered more than you earnestly proposed and shooed the two men down the hallway towards Beau’s office.

“Sure it’s such a good idea to lock those two in a room alone?” Jenny teased, her eyes lingering a little too long on Ted’s perfectly formed ass as he sauntered down the hall.

You couldn’t blame her. You had checked out Beau’s in the same breath.

“It’s only for a short time. They’re not gonna kill each other,” you laughed it off. Jenny arched a doubtful eyebrow at you. “That quickly,” you added a correction. “So, what did I miss here?” you asked and nodded towards the two men, closing the door to Beau’s office behind them. All you heard last was them talking about the recent Texans game.

Ugh, of course, they’d end up by football…

“Dick measuring contest,” Jenny supplied wryly.

“Ah, figured…”

“Well, better them than to lock Agent Y/L/N and the sheriff into the same room,” Poppernak joked with a soft chuckle as he appeared next to you and Jenny, chiming into the conversation.

You gaped at him in mock-shock. “Mo! I can’t believe you just said that,” you chided playfully.

His cheeks turned crimson red. “I’m sorry, Special Agent Y/L/N,” he apologized in a fluster.

“Mo, I told you to call me by my first name,” you reminded him with a smile. “Or I’m gonna have to start giving you silly names like Beau does.”

“Oh, I love Sheriff Arlen’s nicknames,” he quickly defended with a nervous laugh.

“Do you?” Jenny tilted her head with a questioning eyebrow.

He shrugged. “They’re clever.”

August 2020

“Old Fashioned,” you ordered with a look at the bartender, feeling Beau’s confused eyes and crinkled brow wander up to you. “Couldn’t have picked a nicer bar, huh? This place is a dump. You know that, right?”

Beau clicked his tongue and took a sip from his Ranch Water. “What are you doing here? Thought you never wanted to see me again.”

You let out a small sigh but didn’t meet his gaze. “Carla called me. Your family is worried about you.”

“I didn’t tell her where I was. How did you know I was here?”

“I didn’t. Carla said you haven’t been home in three days. Figured you’d gone on a bender. This is the fifth cop bar I checked out. Finally got lucky,” you said and thanked the bartender as he placed his drink in front of you. You settled down on a barstool next to Beau.

“Quite the effort. Sure I’m worth it?”

Your tongue swept over your lips. “Beau, look at me.” His forest-green eyes found yours upon your soft plea. “I’m sorry I put all that shit on you. It wasn’t fair. It’s not your fault, okay? His death isn’t on you. I know you loved him like a brother.”

“I did.” Beau took another sip of his drink. “But it is my fault. I was reckless and arrogant. We both know it.”

“It was a set-up, alright? I talked to my DEA contact. Cody said your intel was wrong. They knew you and Randy were closing in on them. They wanted to get rid of you,” you explained.

Beau smacked his lips. “I still shoulda known better. I should’ve seen it was a trap.”

“Maybe,” you admitted. You couldn’t say you would’ve done the same thing, but you knew Beau would’ve never purposely put Randy in danger if he had even the faintest idea. “But it could’ve happened to anybody. This was bigger than you knew.”

“It wouldn’t have happened to you,” he stated quietly. You couldn’t argue with that. You were more by-the-book than he was. You would’ve never gone against a superior’s order. You would’ve respected it.

“Look, just go home. Talk to your wife. Get some help,” you said. “You missed your suspension hearing, but I spoke on your behalf. Told them it wasn’t your fault. The DEA backed me. Harper’s gonna reinstate you. Just come back as soon as you’re ready.”

Beau nodded slowly. Even if he didn’t say it, you could tell he was thankful for your efforts. “I can’t go home.”

Your brow furrowed. “Why? I’m sure Carla will understand. You need to talk to someone about this. Go to therapy – and not the alcoholic kind. Losing a partner is not something you get over quickly. You need people in your corner, including your wife.”

“You mean the wife that lets criminals out on the street?” Beau’s gaze was focused on the glass in his hands. The wrinkles on your brow deepened. “The guy that shot him… Carla’s his defense attorney. Was, at least. He was supposed to do time, but two months ago, she got him paroled.” With a dark chuckle, he emptied his glass.

“Beau…” You knew he had always struggled with Carla’s job, making you sometimes wonder about their dinner conversations at home. “It ain’t her fault more than it is yours. She’s just doing her job. You know that. You’ve been together for so long, you’d think you’re used to it by now.”

Beau scoffed a chuckle and gestured to the bartender for a refill. “I was a young cop back then. Wasn’t on the job as long. I didn’t know it would bother me so much. Still lived in that hopeful bubble, I guess.”

You smiled knowingly. “You mean the ‘I didn’t think I’d see as much shit and injustice as I do now’ bubble?”

He snickered softly. “Yep, that one. Just didn’t think it’d be this hard, you know?”

“I get it. I mean, me and Carla butt heads all the time over this stuff. But we do it in a competitive fun way and then get drunk,” you said with a light chuckle. “Guess it’s different when you’re married, though, huh?”

“Yeah, it is…” he sighed.

“Still, go home. Talk to her,” you encouraged but could see your words of wisdom fell on deaf ears. “By the way, the funeral’s on Saturday.”

He turned his gaze away from his glass and found your eyes. “You need any help with that?”

“Maybe you can give a eulogy. You knew him best. I think he would’ve really liked that,” you said with a warm smile. No matter your own feelings, you knew deep down Randy would’ve wanted you to forgive his partner.

“Yeah, I can do that. Anything you need, okay?” Beau clasped your hand that laid on the bar counter and squeezed reassuringly before dropping it again.

You smiled appreciatively and teased, “Maybe show up sober. Or at least close-to.”

Beau chuckled a little. “I promise.”

You stood up from your seat then and put some cash for your drink on the counter. “Alright, I’m heading home. You need me to call you a cab?”

“Nah, I’m good. I’m just gonna finish this drink, then I’ll head out, too,” he said.

“You sure? Don’t make me come back here,” you threatened playfully.

Beau laughed softly. “I won’t. Thanks for everything, Y/N. I mean it.”

You sent him a smile and gave his shoulder a squeeze on your way out. “You’re welcome. Get home safe, okay?”

However, Beau couldn’t keep any of his promises. He made it home after three more drinks and woke up on the front lawn of his house. Carla wasn’t happy when she found him in the morning as she brought Emily to school. But Beau couldn’t stop. Every time he closed his eyes, the tragic events flashed before him like a horror movie, witnessing Randy’s death in a never-ending loop. He kept seeing his partner get dragged away, heard the shot over and over again like a rain of bullets without a ceasefire.

The guilt was eating him alive. The guilt of getting his partner into this mess in the first place. Of leaving him behind. Of surviving and coming out alive when he didn’t deserve to.

So, Beau kept drinking to forget, even though he knew it was a futile endeavor. The memory would never fade, but at least it was blurred.

Your heavy breaths echoed through the small trailer. His mouth moved down the column of your throat, leaving a wet path of ravenous love bites in its wake.

“Fuck, baby,” you moaned wantonly, his grip on your flesh punishing as he kept you pressed flush against him while he devoured you on the little dining table. Your ass sat on the wooden surface, your crossed ankles locked tightly behind his muscular back.

“God, you made me so happy today,” he growled against the shell of your ear, his rising length rubbing against your core through layers of denim.

“I can see that.” You giggled, your hands dangling in his hair. “There’s no need to hate him so much, you know?”

“Says you,” Beau quipped and unzipped your jeans, eagerly pulling them off you as his mouth sucked your clavicle purple and blue. “That slimy coyote always had it out for me.”

Beau removed your panties as well, tossing them behind his shoulder where they landed in the kitchen sink. “Whoops.” He grinned charmingly but was unstoppable, freeing his throbbing dick as he shoved his jeans and boxers barely over his ass. He didn’t bother to slip out of them all the way, too impatient to wait any longer to enter you.

“Still, I’m already yours. I’ve always been yours,” you said and braced yourself on his broad shoulders as one large hand on your back pulled you closer to the edge of the table. His other hand grabbed his cock, twisting his fist along the hard, long shaft a few times before he glided his cockhead through your slick folds.

“Not always.” With one harsh thrust, he pushed inside you, your tight walls fighting to make room for him and adjust to his stretch.

You gasped at the pleasurable burn that coursed through your body and ignited every sizzling nerve. He dropped his head to your shoulder, giving both of you some time to get used to each other. You could tell you were in for a wilder ride tonight. You always loved when he fucked you rough and hard. There was something raw and animalistic about the need in his hypnotizing green eyes.

Beau then claimed your lips with one fervent kiss, enough of a spark to cause a wildfire. He met your gaze, hands gingerly cupping your cheeks. “But I love that you’re mine now. And I’m sure as hell gonna make you mine tonight, darlin’.”

You crashed your lips against his, your kisses frenzied and untamed as his hips began to slam into you. His pounds into your pussy were relentless as you swallowed every inch of him. You gripped him tight, already feeling your first orgasm bloom. It accumulated like dark, violent storm clouds on the horizon, forecasting roaring thunder and heavy rainfall.

“Oh God! Fuck, baby!” You screamed as your climax tore through you like a hurricane, your cunt gushing on his cock and pulsing around him. Your nails dug into his shoulder blades and scratched down his back as you came undone.

Beau groaned into your ear, squeezing his eyes shut as he barely held on himself. But he didn’t let up and kept up his furious pace, not ready to stop yet. “Shit, keep doing that. You’re so fucking tight, Y/N,” he grunted against your skin, your sensitive flesh barely withstanding his ruthless pumps. “Want you to come again, darlin’.”

With his declaration, his hand slipped between your sweat-clad bodies. You came close to losing your mind as he thumbed furiously at your clit, the stars already starting to twinkle in front of your eyes. You could feel yourself get shoved to the edge once more, staring down the steep cliffs of white-hot ecstasy.

Your mind was consumed by need, his grip on your hips bruising as you exploded. You cried out raucously, your whole body quaking in his hold upon your eruption, the aftershocks so powerful they could cause cracks in your bones.

Beau spilled his seed deep inside of you, his body stuttering in rhythm with yours as your earthquake took him down with you. Hazy gazes met each other with lazy smiles as ragged breaths mingled.

“Fuck, that was good. I think that one might make it into our Top Ten.” Beau chuckled gravelly and placed a gentle kiss on your temple.

“Hmm, not sure. We have a few greatest hits.” You giggled and bit down on your lower lip with a mischievous twinkle in your eyes. “Can I tell you something?”

Beau cupped your cheeks, thumbs caressing the heated and rosy skin as he lifted your gaze. “Anything.”

“Just between us, you’re the best lover I ever had,” you confessed with a wide grin. The corners of his mouth rose to match yours.

“Well, between us, I’ve never loved anyone like I love you. You’re it, darlin’. You know that, right? You’re the love of my life,” Beau revealed, making you smile brighter than you ever had before.

“I’m not sure about the sex, but this moment, right here, is probably gonna make it into the Top Ten,” you said softly as a few tears stung your eyes.

“Good.” Beau smiled and pecked your forehead.

The buzzing of a phone shifted your attention. You recognized it as yours, and Beau was quick to retrieve it from your jeans pocket in the pile of clothes on the floor.

“It’s Jenny,” you told him before picking up. “Hello… What?! Uh-huh, we’ll be right there.”

Beau’s brow furrowed as he watched your features flicker through an array of emotions. “Bad news?”

“Uhm, honestly, I don’t know,” you said and swallowed some of your confusion down, gathering your thoughts. “Jenny said Diane just walked into the station and gave herself up. She is ready to confess but only wants to talk to us.”

“Us? As in us two?” Beau’s eyes narrowed. You nodded. “Well, that doesn’t sound fishy at all,” he commented wryly.

“Yup, I don’t like it.”

Chapter 8: Chemical Bonds – JUNE 26

A lot of revelations and foreboding in this one... 👀 Also, I just love having Beau say the word "coyotes" for some reason 😂

Join the TAG LIST here! 🌌 Wanna sponsor my caffeine addiction? ☕️

Everything Jensen: @alwaystiredandconfused @xlynnbbyx @lyarr24 @deans-spinster-witch @blackcherrywhiskey

@deansbbyx @foxyjwls007 @ladysparkles78 @roseblue373 @zepskies

@agalliasi @yvonneeeee @hobby27 @iamsapphine @globetrotter28

@mxltifxnd0m @lacilou @feyresqueen @suckitands33 @onlyangel-444

@syrma-sensei @perpetualabsurdity @deans-baby-momma @yoobusgoobus @jessjad

@hunter-or-the-hunted @k-slla @just-levyy @mrsjenniferwinchester @illicithallways

@muhahaha303 @ultimatecin73 @nancymcl @leigh70 @brightlilith

@nesnejwritings @autistic-gothic

Everything Beau Arlen: @snowayumi

Polaris Series: @corruptedcruiser @spnfamily-j2

[pulim-v]

HEY EVERYONE IT'S 1:30 AM AND I CANNOT SLEEP HAVE A LITTLE BIT OF NATSUKO

Kanao and Natsuko Have a Talk

- Mister Kocho, what is love?

Natsuko was taken aback by the question. He and Kanao had just finished training - his performance of Flower Breathing's Fourth Form was finally decent - and she wasn't one to talk that often; come to think of it, she wasn't one to talk at all.

- Why do you ask, Kanao? - he replied, tired eyes looking at the gigantic garden beyond them.

- Mrs. Kocho said, some time ago, that once I fell in love, I would make my own choices - Kanao explained, taking a coin into her hand and examining both of its sides. - I'm starting to think for myself more, but I can't really understand what "love" is.

- Well, love, love is... - Natsuko paused. What was love? How could he explain it to Kanao?

Expressing himself with words was already a difficult thing, it was as if there were billions of small things Natsuko had to do when speaking, and doing any wrong would result in hatred. Trying to explain such a complicated subject to someone like Kanao was bound to be a difficult task. Natsuko took a deep breath, and then started to explain:

- Love is a really hard thing to describe, if I'm being honest. Back then, when your sister was still alive, I wanted to wake up every day near her. I wanted to show her every flower I could, play games with her for hours on end, be near her for as much time as possible. - Natsuko took his trembling hand and wiped a tear off of his face. His voice had begun to shake. He looked to his side and saw Kanao staring directly at him, her expression neutral as always. - But at the same time, to love is to let go. It's letting the person you love do what they must, and for me this meant letting Kanae... save other people. - Natsuko said, his eyes welling up again.

- I... I don't know if I understand what love is, exactly. - Kanao said. - Nonetheless, thank you, Mister Kocho. I shall exit now.

- Bye, Kanae, thank you for the question. - Natsuko said, looking away from her.

Kanao began to ready herself to leave, and as she did Natsuko had a thought occur in his mind. He pondered for a second, and then turned around, calling out for his teacher:

- Hey, Kanao! - Natsuko said loudly, as she was already almost inside the Butterfly Mansion proper. She turned around to face him. - if you ever have any more questions, feel free to talk to me. It doesn't have to be about love, and I know my reaction now wasn't that good, but don't worry, I'm always here if you need help.

Kanao simply walked back inside the house, leaving Natsuko without a response. He stayed there, leaned against a pillar, and looked at the fields of Wisteria he had nurtured.

Tagging: okay this isn't visual art but I think I'll tag all three of you aaghdhajdhja sorry @shycroissanti @larz-barz @sapphosdickandballs

[tahdashi]

i think u legally own the concept of fwb!tadashi i don’t make the rules

i think u legally own my heart 😨

[myfriendsseemylikesonmain]

Scenario where Mashita and Yashiki were basically flirting, and one of the kids says "Oh, they're dating" to another one and it somehow circulates back to Yashiki and he's stressing about it because they haven't truly talked about what they are, and he's scared the mark bearers will hate them for being gay bc time era.

Mashita hears about it after a couple days of Yashiki angsting and goes to comfort him and they talk it out. Mark bearers are supportive obv. and yay happy ending

Am I projecting the definitely-non-issue I'm having right now? Absolutely not.

[djsangos]

//who are THESE fresh squids?? (made here)

okay these guys might not get a mention on this blog for a while- if ever- so i'm gonna talk about them now bc i've been rotating them in my mind for a while

these are captain's siblings! the ones they left behind when they were 14 to run away to inkopolis. captain certainly isn't proud of leaving them behind at ALL, in fact the one thing they wish they'd done differently is taking them with them, even if it would've been damn near impossible to take care of 2 younger siblings all on their own away from home when they were already struggling to take care of themself. they have no idea how their siblings fared with their neglectful ass father after they left, but pierce (right) was only a year or 2 younger than them, so they hoped he'd be able to leave soon too- taking harper (left) with him

so yeah harper (left) i think is probably around 16 or 17 now, having been 7 or 8 when captain left. since she was pretty young she didn't really know exactly why they left, and they didn't tell her either, so i'd say she probably resents them for it. she's a hotheaded edgy teen, classic rebel, you know the deal.

and then there's pierce (right), who's around 21 or 22 now, so he would've been 12 or 13 when they left. even if they didn't say a word to him before packing their bags and hopping a train at the asscrack of dawn, he knows exactly why they did. because being a kid and not only growing up, but having to parent your 2 younger siblings in your father's place, is hard. he basically had to take on their role as caretaker of harper when they left, being the second oldest, and that's how he realized. he doesn't resent them exactly, but he does wish they'd at least said goodbye. he's an outwardly chipper guy, and puts on a brave face even at the worst of times.

and they both did eventually get out of that house- pierce didn't leave as soon as he turned 14 like captain did (though cod, he wanted to) but when harper was old enough to be left home alone he got a job and saved up what he could to get himself and his younger sister out of there. and then when harper was 12 and he was 17, he got them both out of there. they might have gone somewhere else first, but i wanna say they probably ended up in splatsville, living in an apartment together with pierce doing what he can to support harper through school, and she does some turfing herself to help with rent and save up her own money so she can get her own place eventually.

i feel like the reason they probably haven't run into captain is that captain lives in inkopolis and only really goes to splatsville to visit rookie, and the last time they saw their siblings, neither of them were fully transformed yet, and they aren't so easy to recognize anymore themself. so if they've happened to pass each other on the street, it'd take more than just a cursory glance to realize just who they're passing. so it could definitely, and likely will, happen eventually. who's to say.

[bluffmotel]

I always LOVE your character analysis', so random question!!! Would you indulge me about your thoughts on the Romeros (both paul and dante)? You can be as vague or as detailed as you want!

oh i absolutely love this question, thank you! and the timing was rather perfect, given the release of the black book, so it’s safe to say these two ( and more specifically dante ) have been haunting around the depths of my mind … and while i’m a vince & tyler fan first and foremost, i do have thoughts on everyone else and the general story! so without further ado, let’s talk about the romeros :

while as dusk falls is about two respective families ( the holts & the walkers, as we come to find out pretty quick ) i think it’s irrefutable to deny that paul and dante are tangled inside this little web themselves! they’re two figures that help bring the past and present together : paul recognizes jim, although not well, but more importantly if vince allows his father to leave for the hospital, he makes a rather pointed comment about not letting dante see or recognize him. jim also seems rather interested when asking our protagonist, “so you met the sheriff? what’s he like?” before doubling down rather hard on not trusting the law, and this opinion of dante is so intense that ( depending on dialogue choices ) if vince sides with the holts over dante, jim can potentially agree with his choice, in a way he won’t with dante. and given paul’s entanglement with sharon for decades and his bond with bear? these two are in the frying pan right there alongside our leading families! it’s rather easy to dismiss their importance, i think, but give the two enough thought and them being there while the desert dream goes down, as passive and aggressive forces respectively, really feels fated. of course it’s dante the holt boys stole from, and of course it’s paul’s place of work the walkers stumble upon, and of course it all comes to a head and leaves us with one of our final choices in book one : which of these devils are you trusting? dante or the holts? i like to imagine this echoes whatever went down all those years ago with jim, or at least serves as a continuation of whatever he refused to finish.

but that’s getting a little more into general game territory & it’s themes, so back to my thoughts on the romeros specifically, which can be summed up as … i love them! dante in particular grew on me a lot throughout the constant replays, even though i always adored his character! and paul was fantastic in his background role, casually revealing the more heavy hand he had in things ( which you don’t expect! ) with throwaway lines and oddly loaded advice. paul’s a good man, and if it’s not obvious by how protective joyce is of him, then it’s proven tenfold when he either tends to an injured vince at the very end of book one, or tries giving cpr to his dead body if tyler drowns him. like?? what a sweetheart! there’s nothing to hate about paul, but he’s a great example of a character who’s more than what he seems without taking away from the main narrative, another role joyce serves right along with him. these two did their thing as ‘random’ people in the desert dream and the devs took great care to lay out some good groundwork for them in spite of their non importance. and, in general, they act as good voices for vince to consider when it comes to the final choice! joyce trusts dante, talks about him with respect and all of her slightly biting remarks are full of affection ( sentiments that mean a lot coming from her, someone who’s shown herself to be stubborn and no nonsense ), but on the other side, paul warns vince against dante, lamenting on their family’s low opinions of him and his position as sheriff ( an important opinion because paul is dante’s family ), and so on so forth. paul and joyce balance each other well, and i always make sure paul gets his pizza. he has low blood sugar, dale! give him some food, god damn it!

and to talk more about dante, he’s an excellent character in a gaming world full of pathetic villains or straight up irredeemable monsters. the ceo of interior night has been very vocal about making sure nobody in as dusk falls felt like anything less than a human being, and dante ( as well as bear, i’d say ) proves she mostly succeeded … in the case of book one, anyway. it’s very easy to villainze him in the moment and even away from the game if you only give him a passing glance : he’s ruthless, he threatens vince, someone who could’ve been nothing but obedient this whole time, and his abuse of his badge is supposed to be as revolting as it feels. but! he perfectly encapsulates one of the main themes in this game, which is that he doesn’t want to do this, but he feels like he has to. dante is looking at what is clearly multiple crossroads and just like the holts he only sees one path forward, which just happens to be the most violent one. it’s the path where he survives and he is safe, unscathed, and he can return to what his normal is. i’ve been meaning to make a big web weave about adf and this theme in particular but to perfectly sum it up, here’s a quote that feels like it was almost made for this game :

hansel, by richard siken.

like! this is what adf is about! dante may be one of the more awful parties, yes, but he is still just a man who truly believes in his little black heart that this route is what’s best for him -- and so he’s gotta take it. it’s rather easy to not notice his humanity in the midst of this high stakes situation ( and because his counterpart is paul, of all people ), but it is there, and this is exactly why i enjoy seeing him on my screen and would love to do more with him himself someday! dante, in particular, cares about the holts … and i mean the holt boys, not just sharon. despite his spiraling mental state and the time limit he’s under, the sheriff exercises a rather immense amount of patience when it comes to the holts, like, it’s rather obvious he didn’t want them coming to harm in the way that they did. when dale comes out for the iconic sniper scene, dante attempts bargaining with him after his initial instinct to annoy and pry -- and it’s clear that he wants dale to just hand him the book, and he wants dale to surrender and give dante what he needs so everyone can make it out alive, at least. in his moment of blind need, he fails to actually notice that dale’s confusion and fear is genuine, mistakes it as dale’s usual playing around, and goes “have it your way,” before signaling his sniper. he could’ve just shot dale the second he stepped out of the door, and then looted his corpse for the book, or whatever else. but no. he takes the slightly longer way, for as long as he can, and since dante believes himself to be above the law, who is he holding back for? it’s for the holt boys, kids he probably saw grow up! and it’s for sharon. and it’s for joyce, and paul, and maybe even vince and his family, at first. dante becomes colder as the night drones on but given his immense power trip, it’s clear he had no real qualms ending things with police brutality, even at the beginning. makes his attempts at trying to end things peacefully at the start of book one a lot more interesting, in my opinion, because we quickly find out this was dante’s way of showing everyone mercy. which is scary! but again, showcases he’s more than some villain.

and his face after killing dale, if you choose not to save him, also doesn’t scream that this is someone who’s particularly enjoying this. the expressions made between the shot firing and dante looking at the kid’s body bag corpse is … grim.

like, this is not a victorious look at all! the way he just watches as dale’s body is picked up and taken away, expression never changing … he probably feels numb, this sense of : i did what i had to. but he doesn’t like it, and maybe it’d be easier if he did, and maybe he wants it that way too, you know?

i also find this scenario particularly tragic because i believe dale was probably dante’s token favorite out of the holt boys, at least before their falling out. it’s just bizarre to me the amount of hatred dale holds for him in a rather pointed manner -- it just feels personal, and it wouldn’t be personal if dale never cared for two rock’s biggest pig to begin with. how i think the juvie thing went down, in simple terms, is this : dante, who was still a close friend of sharon’s at the time and enjoyed visiting & hanging around the house here and there, someone who saw the first two holt boys through their infancy with paul, got a call about dale ( who had pushed past his usual amateur crimes to commit literal assault ), and had no choice but to actually act this time. he had probably let dale off the hook beforehand, covered up his petty theft and underage drinking and what have you, and this fostered some unhealthy opinions about dante and his generosity, so when dale landed himself in genuine hot water, hot water that even the sheriff himself couldn’t cool down, he couldn’t do anything except give him juvie. WHICH! i like to believe dale committed this crime as an eighteen year old, which could’ve landed him in jail i’m sure since his actions were so severe. so dante didn’t leave dale hanging, technically, but him not letting him off with a slap on the wrist like the holts expected ( like dale thought he would ) fostered a hatred and finally cut dante & sharon apart for good. dale’s loathed dante ever since for his betrayal and dante responds with equal amounts of vitriol back. but his fondness and favoritism remains and shows itself in tiny ways even still, like his almost palpable disappointment that dale came out of that motel instead of tyler, for example. he was like damn, i was prepared to shoot tyler, not dale … :( and i think this is so fucking funny!

( i will say that after reading the black book, none of the above paragraph is canon anymore technically. but i don’t really care at this point because what they did do with dante and dale’s assault was so baffling and borderline stupid! so, like i said when i first got it, i’m viewing the book with the same mindset one would consider a writer’s tweets of ‘canon’ facts about their favorite book on twitter … meaning i can just pick and choose what i like and dislike. there is nothing in game that contradicts the above headcanon, so it’s still canon compliant to me -- anyway! just had to add that little note, just in case )

and this goes straight into headcanon territory, but personally? dante’s the one who got dale a tombstone made, the one we see at the very end of book two. it’s certainly not bear who got it made, someone thousands of dollars in debt and someone who could also be dead at this point … and everyone else either straight up wouldn’t waste their money on such a thing ( like joyce ), or just wasn’t there long enough to make such a memorial. it’s small and it’s ballsy given the holts and their awful reputation, but it’s still something. i’ve always wanted to write a fic about this -- dante going through the process of burying dale and getting him a nice plot of land as well as an actual tombstone … i wouldn’t be shocked if he thought of it as an apology for how things went, in the end. i cannot for the life of me think of anyone else who’d have the money and the desire to give dale, and potentially bear and tyler, a tombstone in their memory. maybe he thought it’d absolve him of any wrongdoing or lingering guilt he felt? maybe he thought it was enough, when in fact giving these people a proper burial was the least he could do. it’s a fun thought of mine that makes me quite sad regardless!

okay buckle up because we’re still talking about dante and the holts kinda, however! dante strikes me as someone who really, really wanted kids, but becky was probably unable to have them for some reason ; be it because of her accident, her being infertile, or what have you. i think he always dreamed of being a father and never fully was allowed that experience! which shows in how he interacts with zoe and ash, where there’s an overt awkwardness but also this sense of eagerness, a little display of tender heart and real worry. for example, he never once threatens zoe’s life! he may endanger her if she stays in the motel, and he has no qualms trying to kill her dad, yes, but not once does he use her as leverage against vince -- despite the fact that said kid could be firmly in his grasp, if she’s the one released! and i’ll have to post the scene when i replay, but if vince tells dante about zoe while in the back office and then takes her out as the hostage, dante bends down and talks to her and is stupidly sweet about the whole thing! so it might seem ironic for him to have a line, but he does, and it’s kids … another example is that when joyce calls him about ash being missing, he sends every available officer out there to search for ash, and when he finds him, he’s nothing but cautious and gentle and worried. it’s almost odd to see from him! when he quickly sheds his cool composer to show the intense rage underneath in most situations we see him in! but he does care deeply for kids and i like that his life’s punishment is him not being able to have them, be it because of them not actually being his own or circumstances making him not being able to raise any he might have. for someone as ambitious as dante i find it sooo endearing that he just, kinda wants children the most? adds to him i think, and it’s something that somberly reminds you that even the most evil seeming people could have the most mundane desires. seriously, there’s such an empty vibe to the big romero house with a wife who hardly leaves her room and some dog in the spacious backyard … ( and spoilers for the black book : but seeing how much dante wanted a dog and a big house really gives you ‘white picket fence’ american dream! with the missing component being the, y’know, kids, and said missing componet carves out this hollow feeling the entire time you dwell on it )

and this want makes me think he was probably around for the holt boys’ upbringings! i mean, not to be crude, but he was banging their mom and seemed to genuinely have loved her at one point in time, so i can only imagine he’d hang around the house here and there. same as paul, i’m sure! and maybe some part of him enjoyed doting on the boys without actively having to be their pa, allowed to just do the fun things most wannabe parents dream of doing rather than the actual hard work and responsibility, and maybe this once there bond contributes to his reluctance to kill the holts immediately. idk! i could see him being around for tyler and dale’s childhood, only to slwply begin fading when jay was brought into the picture -- and then he didn’t help dale out when it counted, and all the bridges between him and the holts were swiftly burned with that. he definitely talks about tyler and dale like he knows them well, which isn’t as weird for dale ( who has a reputation ) but for tyler? someone who notoriously fades into the background and keeps his head down? it implies a bond, i think, where he knew them young and even after him and sharon fell through he decided to keep tabs on them. would scope out where tyler was doing his odd jobs and had officers keep an eye on dale, etc. he’d keep trying to wash his hands of the holts but he never truly puts them behind him, which can be said for everyone else in the game, honestly! they’re like an infection ( something jay even describes them as! ) to where even if you think you’ve cleaned everything off, there’s always one spot you miss, and then the growth process begins again. anyway! he is unhinged for this by the way. man said : two kids without a stable pa figure? sign me up! and then he’d go on to potentially kill one of them on purpose after antagonizing them like he’s a teenager, which he has the nerve to act sad about in the aftermath. insane!!

( also quick timeline here, that i keep in mind whenever i talk or think about the romeros : so sharon and paul definitely knew each other first, but given paul’s energy towards sharon in the desert dream and obliviousness to her and dante’s affair, i don’t think they stayed close -- not after paul married, anyway. paul probably still came around, given his bond with both sharon & bear, but while dante was probably there a lot for the them as kids, i could see paul becoming a more strong figure when they were teenagers and young adults. their behavior towards paul in the desert dream is … strange! though if i had to guess, i’d say they just didn’t want to act like they knew him as well as they did, in order to protect him from any potential danger as well as themselves. wouldn’t want the other hostages to realize they wouldn’t kill paul, you know? it’d be a weakness, which is something the holt boys try very hard to hide in the desert dream situation )

though to focus back on paul a tad, i’m always obligated to talk about him and bear! like, i love paul and bear, so so much, and they’ve grown on me tremendously once i realized they went into vietnam together as soldiers. there’s something delicious about their predicament, where paul is forced into navigating a war with someone he’s jealous of, and someone who he believes to be a pretty shitty guy. and not only did they go in together, they came out together too … went through the flames and trauma and horror as one of those rare duos that actually got to go back home, with all their limbs attached and all! it’d certainly change paul’s views on bear i think, to have seen him in action like that, and to foster what would’ve been a profound understanding, what with their bond being forged in intense warfare and all. his bond with bear is something i wish the game commented on more ( besides an offhand remark ) but oh, it’s quickly become one of my favorite things. bear is so incapable of making friends, and here’s the only one he probably has, someone so unlike him in personality and also someone who wants his wife carnally! like, jesus, the holts can never catch a break, they’re always involved in the most complicated relationships known to man as the town’s locally cursed family and as the town’s most wanted, i guess! but yeah, paul and bear <3 i view paul actually being closer with bear when they come back, electing to spend more time with him over sharon, since it’s easier and safer for him and his marriage … until that crashes anyway. and then paul decided to go sober, which is probably what destroyed their hangouts, leading to paul’s odd holtless time! would probably see the boys around town, as well as sharon and bear, but might just greet them and ask how things are ( typical small town stuff ) rather than actively making an effort to hang. that kinda thing. like he’s still present in their lives, and i think all the holts respect paul a lot more than words can say, and in their own warped ways, but he was. distant. before things went awry.

also totally unrelated to the romeros, but it’s crazy that tyler is born during the last round of american drafts for vietnam, aka 1973. just find it fascinating that bear would’ve either a.) had to have already served his time, b.) hasn’t been drafted just yet, or c.) came back after one term only to leave again for a second one. i can’t remember which one i personally went with, but it’s fun to think about regardless! that, and the fact there’s no mention of dante serving in the war … which i don’t think he did, personally, and given his extreme macho energy, that’s an absolutely fascinating aspect of his character. but i digress!

hm, some other quick thoughts on the romeros include smaller scale things! like how i usually view the rest of the romero family to be more like paul, more meek and silent, almost an entire herd of pushovers. we know the family shares paul’s point of view where it concerns dante’s title as sheriff -- and while this does paint an unsavory image of dante, i can see another picture that implies dante as the romero family’s black sheep. someone always looked at oddly and gossiped about, disapproval aimed at everything dante does because he’s dante, someone unlike the others. the rest of their blood probably doesn’t bother with him at all outside of paul, a family member dante orbits despite his jabs and vocal distaste towards paul’s peaceful nature. i mean, they share friends, a friend list which is only comprised of the holts and joyce, dante’s officers notwithstanding. two rock is a rather small world ( or, at least, it was supposed to seem that way ) but i still find it telling how tangled up in each other’s lives they are! they even liked the same girl, how crazy is that? and dante also makes a passing comment about how paul shouldn’t lock himself away ‘like grandma did’, and he says this remark with disdain … again! i can’t quite back this up with hard canon evidence, but the other romeros ( & hayes’, paul’s actual last name ) have that sort of meek vibe. this black sheep position dante fills also serves to give him and dale more ground as a narrative pair! which, if it wasn’t obvious from the tyler/vince and jay/zoe pairings in the story, this game loves it’s foils and parallels! another minor thought is that paul gives massive queer energy in ways indescribable but i’ll never forget how he can be like ‘maybe it’s mine and i wear it!’ about sharon’s bra if dante finds it in his trailer, and then can hold it up to his chest if i remember correctly?? the fact his extemely masculine cousin doesn’t even bat an eye at this only makes it more queer! he was like yes that tracks, you would wear a bra /derogatory ,,, i just rotate that scene in my mind a little bit, i will not lie.

my very quick final thought is that jim totally helped dante kill sheriff clayson, an action that would then finally put dante in power. which the black book confirms, because dante did in fact kill that guy! just not with jim, but oh well. jim was there and he helped and he hates dante for it now, trust. what they actually did with jim & dante was boring so this is still canon in my head!

ahh, i think this about sums my thoughts on them up? i probably have more lurking around in my mind and, like always, a lot of these points could suffice as posts on their own with more detail, but! it was fun to pour my general thoughts out there, so thanks so much for that opportunity! hopefully this was coherent and made sense lmfao <3 i’m tickled you love my character analysis for this niche ass game!!

[arthur-r]

(stupid vent in the tags i’m maybe struggling a lot. not feeling particularly real or handling my life and relationships maturely at all)

[dreamerlynx]

.

[zannolin]

you ever get an idea that is sooooo. arghhhhh bites into a roof tile and cries.

[scionshtola]

man h*rmes really just. did not have the tools to help m*teion properly process all that despair. and how could he! no one else had them (the flowers were always white!). but he cared about her. and he wanted her to go out and learn how to deal with despair and more (in the course of your long journey you will learn from those you meet. learn to walk and run and so much more). and it’s just so sad to me. if he knew how to handle his own despair, if he knew that everyone had to find their own reason for living, he wouldn’t have needed to send her out in the first place.

[hauntingblue]

YAMATO NEW NAKAMA PLEASE 🙏🏻🙏🏻🙏🏻🙏🏻🧎🏻‍♀️🧎🏻‍♀️🧎🏻‍♀️🧎🏻‍♀️LUFFY PLEASE!!!!

[piplupod]

quick post bc im fucking frustrated to tears rn over this (was just logging in to update my writing sideblog lmao) - the most infuriating and terrifying thing abt my current situation is that despite the lifelong abuse, i still cannot keep my fucking mouth shut sometimes

I've been doing what I can to keep myself up to date with what's happening news-wise without pushing myself into dangerous territory mentally/emotionally, and STILL I fucking suffer because I could not keep my mouth shut around parents TWICE now within the past couple days. and then i get into hot water with them and shit gets bad again and i lose whatever meager amounts of respect or trust or whatever semblance of human decency and kindness they had decided to give to me bc I'd "earned" it by being silent and agreeable.

all i said today was that i think Domino's might be a company to boycott bc my mother mentioned getting pizza for my brother's upcoming bday and then there was just a whole fucking awful thing and I just am so fucking angry w myself. it was so much easier and safer when i never had access to the internet bc i never knew anything that they didnt agree with so i could never say anything wrong in that regard. like at least i Know things now and can actually have opinions, but ... idk. sometimes I feel like it isnt worth it if I keep fucking myself over like this because I can't just hold my tongue.

[pepprs]

also the favoritism thing is still making me so fucking mad and insane btw. im not jealous / resentful of my brother bc he deserves her love and is also burdened in his own ways by it and bc i think my drama w my mom has shaped my life in profound ways and given me friends i cherish and i would never trade any of that for the world but jesus fucking christ. why do i have to beg you to interact with me like a mother. why do i have to talk to me at all beyond asking me to do you 847439473 favors a day. why do i have to beg you to take an interest in my life and apologize when you hurt me and be nurturing and perceptive for once in your fucking life. like it hurts to hear her asking him about his classes and whatever bc she didn’t think i was stressed out w school but i had to talk to a ****** hotline last decemver when i couldn’t take it anymore and my mental health was crashing and burning and it doesn’t even fucking matter to her at all and she’s going to get him the nice gifts and throw him the nice parties and whatever because she hates me and my sister for… and let me get this straight… being complicated and anxious and depressed and also girls. lol!

[thebirdandhersong]

Have been flip-flopping between full-out sudden and heart-wrenching sadness (the Sadie Sink sobbing her heart out in All Too Well kind of sad. Alas) and general cloudy sadness hovering at the back of my mind (I feel rather like my own personal Groke in those moments) these past few weeks and today had many moments of light in it. Lots of sunshine, tea, reading with Muffin (we're reading 1 Psalm a night together and praying together before bed--it is the Best), listening to music that isn't sad/grumpy (Jess Ray, Arcadian Wild, Paul Zach, Sara Groves), laughing with Froglet... it was easier to see the light and receive it. Things are looking up :)

[sarahreadsfic]

I saw your tags and figured I'd send an ask haha

All those names are really nice! I do think in future quests they'd end up using the name you gave him, so that's definitely something to consider. You do get one extra chance to rename him, so maybe try out Zihong for awhile and see what you think?

omg hello!! welcome, please don't mind the mess haha-- *hastily shoving posts and tags aside, attempting to look casual*

so the funny thing is i'm actually nowhere near that part of the quest yet lmao, like i haven’t even met him in-game yet. i'm just trying to get myself used to calling him a different name before i actually have to use it (and for writing purposes).

zihong is definitely in my top 5 names for sure, but the problem i’m having now is that there are just SO many names i’ve researched that would be good for him and i dunno which one he would like best lol.

i’m WAY overthinking this decision and taking it far too seriously, i know - from what i’ve seen, he seems pretty indifferent to whatever we call him either way, aside from his old names or other characters’ names. but still! i want him to feel satisfied with it. if he doesn’t feel so loved and warm inside whenever i call him by his new name i will have failed him >:(

apologies and you definitely did not sign up for this but i’m now using this ask to make a comprehensive list of all my other favorite names and their (supposed) meanings. wish i could just run them all past him for input hgjnfjhdj sORRY FOR THIS IT’S RLLY FOR ME ONLY U DO NOT HAVE TO READ ME WAXING ON ABOUT NAMES FOR WHO KNOWS HOW MANY PARAGRAPHS

First, all the Japanese names:

Matsuri - “Festival”, “enshrined”, “showing gratitude towards the rituals of nature”; has connections with Shinto and Buddhism. I don’t think this is commonly used as a name, necessarily, but the whole “gratitude towards nature” part struck me as a sort of nod to how Nahida helped him. And I like the idea of giving him a name that invokes joy, celebration, and life, because I want him to have those things and find happiness in his new self!

Soma - “A sudden sound of wind”, “true/real/genuine”. It’s simple and nice and what sells this one for me is the “sudden” part. Brings about a sense of movement and change and I really, really like it for that. Don’t know if the meaning is exact, though. It seems like Hayate has a similar meaning, which I also like!

Nataku - The Japanese name for Nezha, a Taoist deity. But also, this is just on the list because I was watching Saiyuki (ridiculous and very loose adaptation of Journey to the West, janky animation and terrible writing, fun to laugh at, highly recommend) with a friend last night and there was a character called Prince Nataku who is described as a “puppet assassin”. Immediate sirens started blaring in my head as my brain honed in on that as a possible name. Apparently Nezha is also known as the Third Lotus Prince, and I love the idea of associating lotus imagery with Wanderer.

Hansei - The cultural concept of “self-reflection”, acknowledging one’s mistakes and pledging improvement. I saw someone name him this and I like how it fits him. My concern is that it seems more like an admonishment and might hold him back from thinking of himself as more than his past wrongs.

Kazuki - "Hope of peace”, “serenity”, “peaceful tree”. I really liked that your name had a connection with Irminsul in the -ki suffix! Apparently -ki also means air, which suits him well, too. In this name, it comes from “hope” and kazu- is for peace. I do like the idea of giving him a name that could embody hope and I do want him to find peace within himself, but I worry he would find this condescending, particularly the idea of “peace” since that word just has so many connotations - he might take it as me wanting him to mellow himself out as if I wouldn’t accept him or am disappointed by him as he is.

Satoru - "Enlightenment” in the Zen Buddhism sense, “to know/understand”. Mostly I think that the way it sounds suits him. The only thing is that it’s a little bit unassuming and normal, I think? Which he might like, actually.

Anything with the prefix Shin-, because I like that it can be read as both “new” and “heart”. But I also feel like 1) it would always end up reminding me of another character because there are SO many that have this name and 2) he might take it as an insult or a mockery, like, “haha, how ironic is it that you don’t have a heart and I’m giving you a name with the word heart in it”. Probably unlikely at this point, but I don’t want his name to cause even the faintest sense of melancholy or sadness in the back of his mind, so I don’t want to chance it.

Other names that I like the sound of are Seijun (pure, innocent, clean/righteous), Kiryoku (inner strength/willpower), and Katsuya (victory). While I do like these, I’m a little apprehensive that naming him any of them would be akin to imposing certain expectations onto him or the type of person I want him to be? Especially Seijun. But I could also see him choosing Kiryoku or Katsuya for himself, so I don’t know! I’m conflicted.

There’s also Ren (lotus or love) and Shou (to soar/fly - add the suffix -yo and it turns into sunlight/sunshine). Simple and sweet, but after all of the long and multisyllabic names he’s taken in the past, I think he might find something like this refreshing. I really like these two aesthetically. I also cannot decide between them for my life.

And then there are names inspired by mythology or religion:

Fujin - Japanese; god of the wind in Japanese mythology who is often depicted alongside the thunder god, which, in Genshin’s case, would be Raiden. I know a lot of people pick this one, but I think it has too strong of a connection with the past he’s trying to leave behind, although I like the way it sounds.

Shu - Egyptian; god of wind/dry air. I like the similarity with Shou, and also that it potentially would be more connected to Sumeru than Inazuma.

Akasa - Sanskrit; the Bodhisattva of void/space in Buddhism. In Japanese, it’d be Kokuzo. I know these were mentioned in my tags, but after some more consideration I don’t think they’re a great fit for him thematically.

Vayu - Sanskrit; in Hinduism, the god of the wind. Literal name meaning is apparently “that which flows”, which I think is pretty. I also think I just like names that start with V. Vaira was another option (Indian; “flowing air”) - I like that it sounds like it could be short for Vairocana, who is the cosmic Buddha that embodies the concept of sunyata, but I couldn’t find a good source for it actually meaning “flowing air” and instead it seems to be more commonly interpreted as “diamond”.

And finally, the Greek mythology names: Icarus, Aeolus, Zephyrus. I’ve seen Icarus suggested by a few people and while I like the way it looks and sounds aesthetically, the literal meaning is also “follower” which I don’t think he would appreciate. Also, I don’t know if I want to name him a tragic reference to his past hubris that caused his downfall. Aeolus (nimble, quick-moving) was the “keeper of the winds”, and though I like how grandiose and regal it sounds, I’m not really into the way it looks? Same with Zephyrus (west wind), it feels a little too soft for him (and if I recall correctly, the west wind was the gentlest one of the four).

So. That’s where I am now. I like so many of these, and I think there are ones that he would like more but I can’t possibly know for sure, and the more I research the more I find other names I like...

ok i’m so sorry for this long writeup JHDGKJGH ZIHONG IS STILL REALLY HIGH UP THERE JUST BECAUSE I CAME UP WITH IT ON MY OWN SO IT FEELS CLOSEST TO ME?? AND I CAN PICTURE MYSELF EXPLAINING THE NAME TO HIM VERY VIVIDLY. AND THEN SITTING THERE TENSELY AWAITING HIS APPROVAL AND THEN HIM GIVING ME A NOD. BUT I DON’T KNOW WHAT HE’D ACTUALLY THINK OF IT.

wanderer why can’t you just pick a name for yourself. do u see what ur doing to me. i feel like that one image of the dude from always sunny connecting all the red lines on the board. WHY AM I LIKE THIS.