#Chapter 8: At Our Destination Not Just the Two of Us

[naminethewriter]

On the Road, Just the Two of Us

Chapter Eight: At Our Destination, Not Just the Two of Us

Masterpost | First | Previous | Ao3

Summary: This was written for @dukeceit-week-2024, @dukeceitweek

Janus and Remus are living in a campervan at the moment. Are they going somewhere? Who knows. The only thing that’s important is that they’re together.

Content Warnings: Flirting, Kissing, Bickering between the twins

🌻🌻🌻🌻

“I don’t want this to end,” Remus admitted quietly.

“I know, darling.” Janus didn’t look over at his boyfriend, too focused on the GPS that told him they were only five minutes away from their destination.

“Can’t we just drive past and keep going?”

“No, dear. It was fun and I loathe to admit I wouldn’t mind if this trip was longer, but we need to go back at some point. I can only take off time from work for so long and we do still need the money. Even if we were to live like this full time. I don’t think I’d enjoy it on a permanent basis, actually.”

Remus sighed, leaning heavily into his seat.

“Yeah, I know. Me too, actually. I can’t sculpt like this. Or paint on the scale I’d like. I know it’s for the best, but still… I don’t wanna deal with the responsibilities again.”

“I cannot relate to that at all.” Janus moved his hand to Remus’ thigh and squeezed. “It’s going to be fine. You focus on your art and let me deal with all the annoying paperwork and bills.”

“You’re gonna be busy again,” Remus accused, though it was in a lighter tone. He was indeed upset at that fact, but he also knew that it was necessary.

“Yes. That’s probably not going to change for a long while.”

“I know. It sucks ass.”

“It does.”

The GPS announced the last turn they would have to make before they’d reach their destination at the end of the road.

“We’ll find the time to do something like this again, promise,” Janus said. “Not every year, not even every other year but we’ll do it again.”

“I’ll cut you if we don’t.”

“Sounds fair.”

They drove the last stretch of their journey in silence, just enjoying each other’s company and reflecting on the past three month on their own.

It had been the most freeing time in Janus’ life.

He was going to miss it.

He pulled the van into a free parking spot outside a lovely, old hotel. The location of the wedding.

“Are you ready?” he asked Remus. His boyfriend huffed.

“One last thing.” Remus pulled Janus over to him, practically lifting him from the driver’s seat and onto his lap, before sealing their lips together. It was unusually sweet for him, no tongue involved.

They parted a few minutes later.

“Now I’m ready,” Remus grinned and Janus chuckled.

“Then let’s go.” He leaned over to grab the keys from the ignition before climbing out of Remus’ lap and out of the passenger door. Remus followed after him, but not without commenting on how good his butt looked.

“There you are! Finally!” The car door wasn’t even closed behind them before Roman was stalking over to them, looking close to furious. “Do you have any idea what time it is? You were supposed to be here yesterday!”

“What a nice welcome,” Janus commented dryly, causing Remus to burst out in giggles and Roman to glare at him.

“Sorry, Ro-bro, but we got turned around.”

“Oh, really?” Roman asked, obviously not convinced, his arms crossed.

“No, he saw a flyer for a carnival and begged me to go.”

“It was super fun, I almost puked on one of their rides! So worth it.”

“I cannot believe you two! A carnival, really?! The rehearsal dinner for your wedding is in two hours! Two hours! And you both look like you haven’t showered in a week!”

“Don’t be dramatic, it was only five days.” Roman groaned and Remus smiled at him, delighted by his annoyance.

“I do not know why you didn’t get a better van! One with a shower! Janus is a lawyer for goodness’ sake, you could’ve easily afforded it!”

“Yeah, but that wasn’t the aesthetic we were going for!”

“I am so going to strangle you!”

“Oh, look, the grooms finally made it,” a new voice commented, and Janus turned to see that Virgil, his best man, had joined them. “Roman was going up the walls since yesterday, it was hilarious to watch.”

“I can’t imagine that at all.” Janus smirked. “You seem quite calm though. Usually you would be right there with him, worrying your pretty little head off about everything.” Virgil elbowed him in the arm for that and rolled his eyes.

“Why would I stress myself out about your wedding? You already paid for all of this, so it’s not like it would’ve been a loss for me if you didn’t end up showing. Plus, I know the two of you, of course nothing here would go to plan, especially since Roman did most of the planning. I was sure you’re going to turn up late, if just to spite him. Hell, I wouldn’t put it past you to have arrived here like two days ago and you’ve just stayed in the van ten minutes from here until you could be fashionably late. I’m more surprised you showed up for the rehearsal at all. Second plus, Logan’s been weirdly insistent that you’d be here around this time. I think Remus has been texting him updates.”

“Why should we put so much effort into a wedding Roman wanted more than us? We would have been fine with getting an officiant into our backyard during a barbeque. He insisted on something more ‘meaningful.’” Janus rolled his eyes and Virgil snickered.

“He and his high standards. Anyway, let’s get you inside and under a shower. You reek.”

“Why, thank you Virgil, for telling me that so politely.”

“Fuck off and just come along.”

They started off towards the hotel, closely followed by the twins that were still arguing.

“And what the hell was that text about sunflowers in the bouquet?” Roman huffed, still rather worked up. “You can’t expect me to change that on such short notice! And they would have clashed with the other colors, plus they stand for platonic affection, not romantic!”

“The fuck you mean ‘short notice?’ I asked you about that two and a half months ago!”

“Yes, way too late! I added some sunflowers to the decorations but not the bouquet.”

“Wow, thank you for your sacrifice.”

They continued to bicker like that the entire way. When they reached the entrance to the hotel, Virgil pulled the door open and held it for them all to pass. Janus let the twins go first, since Roman seemed about to explode if he didn’t get Remus ready immediately. Janus watched them disappear further into the building when Virgil lightly shoved his shoulder with his own.

“So, you ready to get married?” he asked.

Janus watched Remus laugh loudly and pulling his brother into a hug and he smiled.

“I was ready to marry him years ago.”

🌻🌻🌻🌻

This is the end of the story! Thank you all so much for reading, reblogging, tagging and commenting 💛💚

[yutarot]

SHES THE MAN [l.hc smau]

genres: humour, friends to lovers, college au, gamer!haechan, gamer!yn, everyone’s a gamer actually, loosely based off the movie ‘she’s the man’, fem reader, slowburn, angst, plot heavy

synopsis: after you discover your love for gaming, you soon find out that your college won’t let you in any of their e-sports teams due to your gender. but what happens when your twin brother leaves town just before he’s about to start at a new college, where not even NCU’s e-sports captain, lee haechan knows anything about him? there’s only one problem, your brother’s crazy ex is trying to hunt you down. will they all find out your true identity? and will their views on you change if they discover who you really are?

++ will be using the same taglist as my other works for ease, dm if you would like to be removed.

WARNINGS: language, mention of alcohol/being drunk, jokes about death, the plot will divert from the original movie, themes of sexism (at the start), cliffhangers again sorry guys, typos literally everywhere, a littleee bit of violence, small injury detail, heavy on the miscommunication trope… obviously…, lots of angst, things get MESSY, a small (?) plot twist

STATUS: COMPLETE! 08.06.24 - 09.03.24

DISCLAIMER: all portrayals of people are fake and from my imagination, in no way am i claiming that they act like this irl

MASTERLIST

[profiles one] || [profiles two] || [ig profiles]

[1 - positive affirmations]

[2 - let me cook]

[3 - dream vacation destination]

[4 - why’s he kinda…]

[5 - therapy scheduled]

[6 - winky face and all]

[7 - sorry i can’t read]

[8 - trick or treat]

[9 - “can i get your number?”] written chapter

[10 - bro shes your friends sister]

[11- double date]

[12 - canada?]

[13 - do you do weddings?]

[14 - sick and twisted.]

[15 - all of the above]

[16 - who are you?]

[17 - i don’t wanna see you again]

[18 - it’s all over]

[19 - he doesn’t miss you] written chapter

[20 - the truth]

[21 - we’ve missed you]

[22 - you’re delusional sweetie]

[23 - i guess we both had our secrets] written chapter

[24 - second male lead]

[25 - i had no idea]

[26 - is she okay]

[27 - you know her]

[28 - the nile?]

[FINAL; 29 - you already do] written chapter

END!

replies, likes and reblogs are all appreciated! feel free to send requests in my asks; scenes, chapters, characters etc.

TAGLIST - CLOSED.

[gothamhappiness]

Being in a relationship with Bruce Wayne: a journey - Back home (Part X)

It's a big series about an afab!reader who doesn't like Bruce Wayne and who still falls in love with him (he fells quicker and harder)

This is the last chapter I planned for this series. Let me know if you need more (and with some ideas as well, please!) <3

Reader's origin story // Part 1 // Part 2 // Part 3 // Part 4 // Part 5 // Part 6 // Part 7 // Part 8 // Part 9

Warnings: no proof reading, mentions of an abusive mother, sexual activities, comfort/fluff

You were just supposed to have a conversation with Bruce and then go back to your flat and have some rest.

It was what you told yourself. Yes you wanted to fix things with the man, but you weren’t too sure you were ready to be back at the manor. Plus, the time at your mother’s had been harsh on you and you felt like you needed some alone time.

However when you saw Bruce waiting for you in the middle of the station of Gotham, you forgot about it. Once you arrived in front of him, you let your suitcase fall on the floor and you reached for him. He tightly hugged you, and you both felt your body and mind relax and quiet down.

You were both back home.

“Hey” you whispered

“Hey” he greeted you back as he tightened his embrace

After a little while, you both let go of each other. You knew paparazzi were currently taking photos of the two of you in a corner of the station, but you really couldn’t care any less. You reached for Bruce’s collar and forced him down so you could kiss him. His hands found your waist as he brought you closer again.

“It’s gonna be a nice picture in tomorrow’s newspaper” he commented

“Hoping they will leave us alone in the restaurant though” you whispered and he nodded

“Don’t worry about that” he reassuringly replied “Hungry, love?”

“Starving” you hummed

Bruce grabbed your suitcase and you exited the station. The black limo was waiting for you, Alfred in front of it. He quickly smiled at you.

“Good evening, Mrs. It’s a delight to see you again” Alfred greeted you

“Thanks Alfred, I’m happy to see you as well. I missed our tea time.” you said and Alfred nodded as he opened the car door for you. You entered the limo as Bruce settled beside you. “Hope everyone behaved in my absence” you added to which Alfred huffed

“How could they when their matriarch isn’t around?” Alfred hummed and you chuckled 

“Sorry I’ve left you alone with all those little beasts then” you joked as Alfred started the engine and drove you all to your destination.

The rest of the journey went by in a comfortable silence.

You thanked Alfred for the ride before Bruce and you entered the restaurant. You settled in a small VIP room, which was romantically decorated.

“So I guess we need to talk then?” you started and Bruce nodded. 

He wasn’t fond of speaking about his feelings but he was definitively eager to have you back in his life. He could do better for you. He would tell you he loved you everyday. He would reassure you when you needed to. Anything to keep you around. Life was so joyless without your smile and laughter. Life was so stern without your presence. The family was so much more dysfunctional when you weren’t around to put the pieces back together.

You were needed.

You had warned Bruce you might come back to your flat tonight, even if things were better between the two of you. So of course you weren’t supposed to messily kiss him in the middle of a corridor of his manor. You weren’t supposed to lock his bedroom door as he started to undress you with pure desire and need for you. You weren’t supposed to play with each other under the shower. You weren’t supposed to come over his tongue for what felt like a hundredth time. You weren’t supposed to lie down on his bed - your shared bed - and smile up at him as he leaned down to hungrily kiss you. You weren’t supposed to fall asleep under his tender watch.

However it felt right. You were safe, you were finally able to rest. You even knew you would soon talk to Bruce about the mess your family was. You were certain he would be there to help you deal with the situation.

You were going to be alright again.

You weren’t supposed to wake up that late the next morning, still all cuddled up into Bruce’s embrace. For once, the man was still sleeping. He seemed a lot more rested and relaxed. You gently kissed his collarbone before trying to get up, but some strong arms were quick to bring you back onto the bed. You had no way to escape, not that you really wanted to. The air was so cold outside of the sheets, anyways.

“Five more minutes” a grumpy voice murmured to you as Bruce hugged you tightly against his chest.

You let out a little giggle which made him smile. He snuggled into your hair and neck.

“It’s usually my line” you teased

“Hmm” 

“It’s very late. I’m pretty sure you missed like ten meetings already” you continued to gently annoy him

“Don’t care”

You enjoyed the answer a little more than you wanted to admit it. You gently kissed every inch of his face, neck and chest. He finally opened his eyes, stretched and settled back. You moved to straddle him before laying down on his chest. He hugged you again. He quickly looked up at the time. He did miss quite a few meetings and Duke and Steph were supposed to report on their last night patrol. But all of this could wait.

“I’m surprised you aren’t jumping out of the bed already?” you said as you brushed your nose against his

“Realised how much I hated myself for not having given in all those mornings you wanted me to stay in bed a little longer with you. Let’s say it’s payback”

“Sounds good to me” you purred as you felt his greedy hands stroking your body with love and intimacy

“Are we good?” he softly asked to which you nodded “So, are we back together?” he asked again, just to be completely sure

“I didn’t think I’d say that the first time I met you, but yeah I’m your girlfriend” you kissed the corner of his lips

You stayed silent for a little while, enjoying the soft presence of another before you resumed talking.

“We haven’t spoken about one last subject last night though”

“Which one, love?” Bruce stroked your back

“What about me being a civilian and you having to look after me?” you asked

“Me and the kids can teach you some fighting techniques. And I think you should completely move in here. That way, you’d be safe” Bruce told you “And I’d be happy to know that whenever I’ll come back from patrol, you’ll be home” he admitted

“I should’ve seen this one coming but I didn’t” you said “I… You know I’m a wild cat. I need to think about it” you said

“Of course. No pressure, never.” he hummed before stealing you a kiss or two

The kiss was getting heated again when a soft knock at the door startled you

“Lunch is ready and I believe everyone is waiting for the two of you” Alfred informed you

“Coming!” you both replied before laughing

You quickly grabbed a dress as Bruce put on the first suit he found as well. 

“Hope you’re ready for everyone hugging you” he warned you before entering the dining room. 

And indeed, all the kids got up to greet you with great affection.

Even if they didn’t all need a mother, they needed the common sense you were bringing into the family.

In four words: you have been missed.

--

Taglist for all my work <3

@blublock404

@wind-canoe

@silverklaus

@couldeatthatgirlforlunch

@tatsuri-zomushiki

@navs-bhat

Taglist for Bruce Wayne <3

@alishii

Taglist for this series <3

@Esposadomd

@moraxussy

@resident-cryptid

@legendarypiratecheesecake

@randomnamedmira

@elleclairez

@mindless-rock

@lumiqou

@prongs-moon

@classypeachphantom

@boiohboii

@c3liaaaaa

@nickey-diano

@anuttellaa

@ftm-peepeepoopooman

@just-pure-trash

[amyoffline]

It's done! The outline for—

—is below the cut. The goal of this project is to explore the following phenomena with as much context and nuance as I can manage, tracing our history over the past 15 years:

What about us, and what about Dan and Phil, drew in and continues to draw in a very specific audience. If they are a ranch metaphor, we are a pizza metaphor 🥗🍕🫶🏻

Why we were Like That™, by which I mean so parasocially invested in them that we became, at times, the most annoying people on the internet. Much of that reputation is undeserved, and the videos on the phandom to date have been strongly negative. So, uh, I guess I'm going to put my face on camera and (mostly) defend us.

Reblog, share in your Discord servers, reply, or send me messages/anon asks with feedback or resources if you have any! Especially if your experience being in this fandom community has been dramatically different from mine. There are TIT spoilers near the end of the outline, but I'm not tagging because certain individuals seem to be lurking over there. Thank you!

Chapters:

Full outline:

introduction

cold open

felt personally attacked by jonathan haidt's last press tour

showed up to the phrenaissance 11 months late

had an unexpectedly strong response to their new content, needed to find out why

what the hell are we doing here?

- phenomenology (academics are professionally insufferable) - research question 1: what drew the audience in? - research question 2: why were we Like That™?

what we're NOT doing here

- a strict content analysis or "wow we sucked" video - providing sources for things best left uncirculated, thank you

reflexivity (personal biases)

- american zillennial in public health - in the youtube audience by spring 2010 - lurking in the phandom on tumblr 2013-2015, back* since 2019 - fan behavior i did and did not engage in

(----): truly necessary background information, i swear

(pop) cultural trends, tech, and their intersection

- nerd/geek identity and the first online weirdos - broadcast tv & the music industry vs the internet - defining "emo" - blogging & vlogging - early internet comedy

broader social/economic trends

- so the U.S. economy collapsed in 2007 - a decade that sucked except for rom-coms and square enix games - the flip/slide phone + digital camera + mp3 player loadout

(05-8): early youtube and early phil

youtube: a great video uploader without a clear purpose

the content on the website

- crossposts, corporations, and creative/social outlets - omg guys it's amazing phil - contemporary youtube-to-legacy success: justin bieber

the audience of "early adopters"

contemporary social media sites and forums

(2009): origin story

a wild dan appears… in the comments

the global constant that is teenagers being messy online

daring my old school district to sue me

- "one town's war on gay teens" (literal rolling stone headline!) - epidemiology 101: rates of… ugh… "unaliving" oneself - ways kids cope when it seems no adults will help them

the earliest days of dan & phil

- hello internet + pinof - a chronically overexamined timeline - file deleted ---* so how big WAS the audience at the time? ---* acceptable funny/edgy language was just different

contemporary youtube-to-legacy success: lucas cruikshank

omg it's meeeeeee

- how amy & friends were using youtube - ways i was just destined to end up here - being in social environments with peers 3-6 years older

(2010): is it "twenty-ten" or "two thousand ten?"

youtube is a platform about to explode in popularity

- the algorithm before it was The Algorithm™, lost site features - let's take a trip through the wayback machine :3c - actual dan & phil content in 2010 - the green brothers found vidcon - contemporary youtube-to-legacy success: darren criss

social media: also about to explode in popularity

- facebook was cool at the time, believe it or not - law of equivalent exchange: 2010 amy cringe compilation - the birth of instagram and pinterest - youtube slash livejournal (the first phanfics… sort of) - shockfic and its place in the overton window

the beginning of "the great rewiring" as haidt calls it

- ways social media is about to dramatically change - third spaces become online spaces - confounding variable: changing expectations of teens

(2011): the end of an era, the start of an age

a very long tangent on fandom and pop culture

cultural exchange

counterculture and teenagers as concepts

the first british invasion: the 1960s

- beatlemania and its descendents - moral panic about the virtue of tween/teen girls - tv/film/fashion trends being imported from the uk - in parallel, star trek births the modern fandom

the second british invasion: the 1980s

- synth/new pop that came out of the punk movement (hi, emo?) - confined mainly to music and fashion - cool britannia

it's harry freakin' potter

- absolute titan of pop culture influence - the rise of online fandom: examining the horrors ---* what is "wank" ---* flaming, sockpuppeting, and general cyberbullying ---* censorship: ffnet purges, boldthrough, & strikethrough ---* other fandom shenanigans of the time (yaoi paddles, anyone?)

harry potter's over. now what?

- for those who needed coming-of-age hero's journeys ---* twilight and YA dystopia waiting in the wings ---* some pretty iconic tv shows start or hit their stride ---* the mcu's phase one ---* takeaway: the rise of "geek culture" generally - for those who just wanted to go to hogwarts ---* doctor who & the wider world of bbc programming ---* british vloggers, you say? where? on youtube? brb--

end tangent, back to your regularly scheduled programming

dan & phil in the first half of 2011

- a continuation of 2010… for now - the videos - british pancakes as a case study of bad fan behavior

streaming and social media

- the birth of snapchat, twitch, and younow - netflix starts developing original programming - multi-channel networks (mcns) - digitour

dan & phil in the second half of 2011

- and they were roommates (omg they were roommates) - fantastic foursome - youtube glitches out - the super amazing project - the first proper baking video + wait, is that the bbc?

~ baking interlude 1: christmas cookies ~

the family sugar cookie (sorry, delia)

amy's 2011

(2012): why is anyone nostalgic for this

the transition from desktop to mobile

- massive growth in smartphone ownership 2011-2015 - things one might do on mobile one might not do on desktop - non-online ways smartphones changed being a youth™

what is tumblr and why is my child using it

- how the site is meant to work - fandom, memes, aesthetics, and SOME public figures - want to be anxious and depressed in peace? come to tumblr - this site seems a little……… gay ---* tumblr's very queer, very neurodiverse userbase ---* legacy media representation in 2012: bad! ---* actual academic research on tumblr users (yes, it exists) - the tumblr experience for non-native english speakers

amy becomes a vibrating mass of panic and paranoia

- in context of the above - additional rant about the american public school system

the growing dan & phil audience

- investigating the origin of the term "phannie" - more collaborations = more viewers - more video uploads = more /invested/ viewers - younow and interacting with fans - watch time replaces clicks in the algorithm

online etiquette, or lack thereof

- mid-transition from the 2000s to the 2010s - "professional internet celebrity" is still basically brand-new - lack of boundaries - various ways to be an asshole online - unsupervised kids simply do not engage in best practices

the end of 2012

- dan and phil move to london - wikipedia vandalism - tiptoeing around a top contender for the phandom's greatest sin - super amazing project DONE, now it's BBC RADIO TIME

(2013): arguably the most important year

- wait. what's that six-second video platform over there--

[amy's curated vine compilation]

- a new wave of internet comedians (read: future youtubers) - the zillennial lexicon - other platforms start emphasizing short-form video content - magcon

emo is BACK - well, sort of

- fob hiatus ends, mcr breaks up. my god. you had to be there - more open ties to nerd/geek culture than in the 2000s - these things once again intersect at dan and phil

dan and phil in the first half of 2013

- siri, what's a "sex symbol?" why are you booing me i'm right-- - d&p are everywhere - radio shows, interviewing, hosting - youtube uploads on their individual channels

rapidly changing cultural attitudes towards queerness

- gay marriage will be legal in places other than canada soon - a lot of assimilationist rhetoric though tbh - parallels to the pop feminism of the decade

hey kids, let's talk about compulsory heterosexuality!!

- what is it and why do people do it - academic, tumblr-level, and anecdotal research - the dannies, the phillies, and the phannies

amy

- the closet™ - mental health stigma - 2013 dnp posts from my main blog

dan and phil in the second half of 2013

- subscriber milestones, vidcon - joint content before the gaming channel - phandom starts having a major presence outside tumblr

(2014): achievement unlocked!

it's time to talk about rpf

- definitions (a chance to be annoyingly pedantic) - academic perspectives and fan discourse on the ethics - when the subjects clearly aren't fine with it - so… we can acknowledge "shipping phan" was different, right? ---* sometimes the subjects are fine* with it, actually ---* how dan and phil started to handle the shipping ---* obvious differences between phan and other rpf ships ---* sharing my favorite passages as a first-time phanfic reader

dan and phil in 2014

- wikipedia vandalism 2: electric boogaloo - bbc request show → internet takeover - the 7 second challenge - youtube content, subscriber milestones, rewind - cons and award shows

tumblr reaches the peak of its influence

- yahoo's attempts to monetize the userbase - buzzfeed and aggregators steal our jokes and bait our clicks - legacy media dangles carrots and uses us for free marketing - the legend of korra breaks TV precedent, almost out of nowhere - the tumblr user experience ---* on mobile, without xkit ---* on desktop, with xkit ---* 2014 dnp posts from my main blog

gamergate and its long shadow

- trolling, renewed and revamped - algorithms push increasingly extreme content - the broad conservative backlash conglomerate - increased normalization of conspiracism in general

my greatest sin [not clickbait] [very funny]

- so, circling back to comphet… - the actual story

anyway, let's talk about danandphilgames

- a star is born: dil howlter - different types of gaming content on youtube at the time - why did 17yo amy not subscribe? well…

~ baking interlude 2: chocolate cupcakes ~

make your own frosting. it freezes well

roasting myself further

(2015): it's not queerbaiting when it's real people

facebook "pivots to video"

- mark zuckerberg lied. water is wet - causes other platforms to REALLY double down on video - the birth of musical.ly - corporate-branded creators (read: future youtubers)

queerbaiting enters mainstream public consciousness

- academic origins - early fannish and acafan writing - johnlock, destiel, and sterek - statistics 101: type i error, type ii error, and queerbait

dan, phil, and the phandom

- bbc, cons, & the brits - danandphilcrafts - phan conspiracies ---* japhan ---* body language experts ---* timeline truthers ---* floor plan investigators ---* no but seriously imagine it - regular youtube uploads ---* solo content ---* joint content ---* subscriber milestones, rewind - tatinof uk and tabinof ---* on "selling out" ---* revisiting the statistics 101 lesson: now with real people! ---* never meet your heroes (unless they're dan and phil)

amy's (temporary) exit from the phandom

- it's legal adulthood with a steel chair!! - growing discomfort with some fans' behavior - 2015 dnp posts from my main blog - the closer: final fantasy vii

(2016): season finale

vine's imminent demise

- content platforms behaving badly - content creators behaving badly

youtube after "the great rewiring" (as haidt calls it)

- version 1.0 of the modern youtube algorithm ---* deep neural networks for dummies ---* what's holding creators accountable, or not - advertising and sponsorships ---* basically every child and youth™ is watching now ---* the battle for our attention ---* regulators start to crack down on undisclosed ads - the rise of drama/tea content (and later, channels) ---* youtubers are now seen as regular celebrities ---* dan and phil as the butt of other youtubers' jokes ---* baiting the phandom for engagement

tatinof us and aus

- a proven new model for live show tours - show & documentary released to youtube red (now premium) - [sigh] the tour bus

sea change in online fandom

- the newer, sometimes queerer media in korra's wake ---* better and more representation in live-action tv shows ---* voltron (i'm sorry!!!) ---* the mystic messenger craze ---* alice oseman & heartstopper - the new dynamics of #discourse ---* proship is to anti as phannie is to phanti ---* the bad behaviors of the 00s get a new coat of paint ---* new, though: fans harassing creators ---* a personal note on ace discourse

dan and phil presence off-tour

- the internet takeover ends - regular content, subscriber milestones

so. uh. current events.

- brexit - sorry the united states is a font of chaos - ripple effects

closing out the year

- amy finally gets an anxiety diagnosis and treatment! hurray! - dapgo, rewind - bbc radio awards & the boncas - gamingmas

(2017): time for a rebrand

tangent - sit down!!! buckle up!!! today's lecture is on PSIs & PSRs!!!

"parasocial" as defined by the current zeitgeist

- summing up youtubers' and laypeople's opinions (not dan's) - an unfairly negative stance overall, imo

older academic literature

- the 1956 paper (yes, 1956) - with traditional celebrities - with fictional characters

current academic literature

- with youtubers and other content creators - positive effects on the audience - negative effects on the audience - broader societal implications

fandom spaces as a parasocial experience

- parasocial and truly social interactions with each other - phandom as a supportive, welcoming space for oddballs - what research i can find about neurospicy folks, + anecdotes - me and everyone else on planet earth move to discord

inherent transactionality

- the nature of celebrity - positive effects on creators - negative effects on creators

reexamining early phandom through a parasocial lens

- the good, the bad, and the ugly - the role audience demographics played in all of this - entering, exiting, and remaining in the phandom

end tangent, back to your regularly scheduled programming

vine is well and truly dead

- some had prepared to become primarily youtubers (smart) - some move to musical.ly, insta, facebook, or snap (less so)

the sun sets on danisnotonfire

- i am very normal about dan's hobbit hair, i swear. - the last dnp content before the rebrand - new apartment, new floor plan investigations

adpocalypse now

- youtube has become the village elder of platforms ---* increased scrutiny, increased responsibility ---* some youtubers had been getting away with !#$!#@% - the scandals ---* pewdiepie + logan paul ---* elsagate and being "family- friendly" (read: ad-friendly) - censorship and monetization ---* adsense revenue goes down as advertisers pull out ---* the glory days of posting whatever and making bank are over

amazingphil and ~daniel howell~

- youtube & younow content - that week in march - vacations and conventions - conjoined baking and the concept of a "soft launch" - daniel & depression → dan as a mental health advocate - truth bombs, ii announcement, rewind

(2018): the phandom vs the hiatus they told us not to worry about

interactive introverts

- "giving the people what they want" - in hindsight… - let's talk about dnp fans from the global south

youtuber burnout

- it wasn't just dan: (more examples than header fits) - the old model was simply not sustainable - newer contributing factors - research on burnout, plus personal anecdotal experience

other dan and phil content

- younow/rize lives - dan's last videos before… you know… - phil's solo content in 2018 (quiff!!) - pinof → wdapteo - the gaming channel

other stuff happening online and in the world

- youtube raises the barriers to monetization - many "pivot to video" creators are now independent - the modern youtuber's multiple streams of income - continuations of societal trends in 2016 - musical.ly becomes tiktok - notable: she-ra and the princesses of power

the hiatus™: part myth, part reality

- how long dan was actually offline - major confounder: tumblr implodes almost overnight - major confounder: perception of content density from '13-'16 - major confounder: rapidly maturing audience - major confounder: our temporal awareness is about to go way ↓↓

~ baking interlude 3: scotcheroos ~

minnesotans and their obsession with "bars"

amy has one last existential crisis (you know, to date)

(2019): demolishing the closet with a nail bat

phil videos in the first 5 months of this very important year

basically i'm gay

- my thoughts - its legacy in the canon of "coming out" stories - multiple things can be true at once

coming out to you

- my thoughts - its legacy in the canon of "coming out" stories - why phil waited (actual explanations, speculation)

amy's 2019

- return to the audience, not really to the phandom (rip tumblr) - strange coincidence that i also had a major life transition

dan and phil: still here, freshly queer

- twitter becomes the main nexus of phandom, by default - regular phil uploads + brief return to younow - vidcon

(2020): go home and stay there

so it's a goddamn global public health crisis

- infectious disease perspective - effects on overall well-being of adults - effects on kids and teenagers (sorry to all of you) - political and economic impacts

hitherto unforeseen levels of online content consumption

- tiktok replaces basically all short-form video content - yet another wave of new (otherwise unemployed) youtubers - you're watching a video essay. these got really popular now. - being young and isolated: thoughts from younger phannies

the Content™ bc that's the one word we use for this now

- phil's videos - when dan is around - that attitude magazine interview - pour one out for the phil solo project(s) the panini wrecked

further political disaster… avoided?

- checking in on the state of social issues previously discussed - unfortunately,

(2021): welcome to the 2020s, we have lingering trauma

THE PHOUSE?!?!?

- social media posts - the stereo shows

other dan and phil videos

- phil's solo videos - gay and not proud - hometown showdown - other joint videos - phil's #shorts (sounds normal in american english)

panini updates

- vaccines soon, uwu??? + entrenched misinformation - pros and cons of remote work - pros and cons of remote school - pros and cons of remote socializing

you will get through this night

- younger me really could have used this book too, dan - thoughts as a professional in a related field - reflecting on some of my more unique circumstances

daring my old school district to sue me (again!!)

- updates: racism and transphobia - updates: right-wing freaks take over the school board again - residents vote against improving mental health resources

(2022): dan returns (still not on fire)

hey so politics are um getting worse

- americans lose the right to reproductive freedom ---* the quickest of histories on where these freaks came from ---* this shit kills people. - trans kids become the punching bag of culture war discourse ---* fuck off! (gently) ---* fuck off! (i have a knife) ---* checking in on terf island

we're all doooooooooooooooomed

- dystopia daily my beloved - the style, the substance, the metatextual analysis-- - not everyone loved it, though. why? - the promo - dan on tour + sister daniel

amy's 2022

- i got covid - then i got long covid: brain fog, pots-like symptoms

some more news (i will work on my warmbo impression)

- dan joins tiktok + danisnotinteresting uploads - phil: uploading less, busy doing remote crisis management - twitter is acquired by an idiot jackass - heartstopper on netflix! ---* the show and what it means to people ---* drama (revisiting "real people can't queerbait") ---* why this has anything to do with the phandom

~ baking interlude 4: cinnamon rolls ~

- lovingly, recipe changes and corrections :) - if i have an opinion about anything, it's sweet yeasted breads

(2023): the phrenaissance

phil

- joins tiktok! - youtube uploads through september - what even is phannie tiktok. i've never used this app. help.

dystopia daily b-sides

- dan memes of 2022 - the 2023 dystopia daily episodes

amy: the doctoral candidacy process

- purgatory, privilege, poverty, and free pizza - checking in on what this is like outside the united states

pretending the panini is over

- complaining about post-adpocalypse censorship standards - honest take about "giving up" on covid - who gets the short end of the stick

the youtube algorithm is BAD and UNINTELLIGENT, actually,

- unhinged rant about not hearing about the gaming rephrival - because i was offline from other platforms. like, @amyoffline.

pov: you are a phannie (not me) on october 15th

- what i was doing on october 15th - saying goodbye forever, spooky week, and november - gamingmas - phil uploads through december

(2024): fifteen years of terrible, terrible influence

hey what the fuck is going on

- dan and phil ---* joint and phil videos ---* jokes they never would've made ten years ago ---* a collection of emotional posts about how far they've come ---* people want fun and silly content again. we'll get to why ---* nostalgia, hope, and other warm and fuzzy feelings - the phandom ---* ancient parasocial attachments, reactivated instantly ---* people are way more normal now. let's discuss why ---* tumblr vs twitter vs tiktok phandom

we're all doomed, youtube version

- my thoughts - thoughts on "dan should/shouldn't" do video essays - i can't objectively evaluate anything he makes bc [gunshots]

terrible influence tour

- legally phlonde - the concept: healing one's inner child / taking it back - we gotta talk about phannies in the global south again - no but seriously imagine it? ---*ogres are like onions, they have LAYERS ---* [placeholder for whatever does(n't) happen]

anglosphere current events once again

- the likely us tiktok ban - the tories get fired - [placeholder for whichever hell americans manifest] - witnessing genocide and feeling powerless

ffx full-circle moment to the intro of this video essay

- the night i found out they came back - why i am doing this, now with context - reflections on a nearly 15-year (parasocial) relationship

whatever youtube uploads we get during fall/december

AMY SEES TIT (nov 14)

- the vibes at the phamily reunion - buying merch to apologize for eternal ublock origin use - how much should i document?? (not during the show) - phanspiracies confirmed - atlanta confessions - favorite bits - the alternate universe where i went to tatinof and/or ii

(2025): the horrors persist, but so do we

whatever 2025 content is out while i'm still working on this

our parasocial social club

- let me be philosophytube for a second ---* every interaction has a parasocial element ---* what are we obligated to do as a phandom, actually? ---* as people who parasocially care about these two dorks? ---* what else should we be doing socially to be at our happiest? - "they're my gay uncles" vs "i'm a little in love, even now" ---* riffing about the boundary/overlap between these camps ---* sibling reads me for filth in a single text (sister daniel...) ---* at least we're all in this together

what's going to continue to draw people in

- grown adults drawing our cat whiskers back on - updates on queer/nd kids - updates on anxiety/depression rates - updates on tech and the broader environment of content - world still feels doomed

tangent - the "hard launch" and why people want it

what are people referring to, exactly

- general definition and other examples - when it comes to dan and phil - maybe they hard launched already and we just missed the memo

the ludonarrative of phandom

- if you got here early on - if you got here in the mid-2010s - if you got here after they came out - if you got here post-hiatus - final fantasy comparison: ffvii's chokehold over first-timers

a rom-com for the ages

- the tropes in play - brief tangent on the evolution of the genre - queer romantic comedies - final fantasy comparison: ffviii's plot and squall/rinoa

phriends… or…

- wholesome influence, slice-of-life - projection - final fantasy comparison: ffxv's gameplay loop, the chocobros

humans don't like ambiguity

- from a media perspective (narrative tension) - research from the hard sciences - final fantasy comparison: fanille ---* the first gay final fantasy characters, actually ---* ffxiii's character development process ---* fang and vanille in the text. brb, clawing at the walls ---* so, if anyone is looking for a phyuri au prompt…

tl;dr: reality is not fiction. make peace with not "knowing"

end tangent, back to your regularly scheduled programming

the phuture

- phil's big solo project when??? - dapg is just the joint channel now - youtube has changed since when dan last "regularly" uploaded - nothing lasts forever, and that's okay

~ baking interlude 5: ranch + pizza ~

- ranch propaganda and ranch metaphors - showing off my dough and sauce skills

conclusions

- a lot has happened in 15 years - [placeholders: don't write your conclusions before you do your research]

Proof this project can only be done in consultation with Tumblr: no other platform we're on could accommodate a post of this length and formatting detail lol

[fangsandfracturedhearts]

Fangs and Fractured Hearts

Summary: After embracing eternity as a vampire spawn under Astarion's wing, the Crimson Palace becomes a haunting symbol of the man he once was. As his personality unravels into a dark abyss, you flee. A year of hardship unveils the harsh reality of existence as a vampire spawn.

Just as all hope seems lost, a twist of fate reunites you with Astarion, revealing a glimmer of hope amidst the shadows. As you navigate the complexities of your relationship, you must confront the unsettling truth behind the Rite of Profane Ascension and the devilish secrets it holds.

In a race against time, you embark on a daring quest to save Astarion from his descent into darkness. With each choice you make, the stakes grow higher, testing the limits of your courage and determination.

Will Astarion find redemption, or is he destined to succumb to his own inner turmoil?

Pairing: Softish Ascended Astarion x female!Tav Spawn Note: It is/will be mentioned Tav is a draconic sorcerer

Rating: Explicit 18+ [Slow Burn]

Setting: Post End-Game Please note: Written before epilogues were added, so may not be congruent with that content

Warnings [more will be added] - expect mature content/read at your own risk.

Blood drinking. Sexual Themes/Tension. Slow Burn. Eventual Explicit Smut. Pining. Suicidal Thoughts. Biting. Violence.

Small Notes:

I am not well-versed in DnD 5e and it's rules as it pertains to this world, so although I'm going to try and keep it as accurate as possible, some aspects may not align or may be completely made up for story reasons.

Mentioned of in-game content that I've made resolve a certain way for this Tav.

Fabricated camp events.

Tav is named in later chapters (15 +), will have her own backstory, which we may explore eventually.

Details of Tav's appearance have been made up, but I've tried to keep details to a minimum so you can imagine your own Tav.

Otherwise, I hope you all enjoy!

Big thank you to everyone who reads and/or comments/follows/likes/reblogs - it truly does make my day to know you're finding some enjoyment in my story :)

Chapter 1: Lost Between Night and Dawn

Chapter 2: Reunion

Chapter 3: One Step Forward, Two Steps Back

Chapter 4: Little Lamb

Chapter 5: Rebellion

Chapter 6: Dancing with Darkness

Chapter 7: Rogue Desire

Chapter 8: Free Fall

Chapter 9: Beneath the Veil

Chapter 10: Soulbound

Chapter 11: 'Till Death Do Us Part

Chapter 12: Catharsis

Chapter 13: The Fallacy of Power

Chapter 14: Devil's Ploy

Chapter 15: Reclamation

Chapter 16: Riddles

Chapter 17: Unearthed

Chapter 18: Unleashed

Chapter 19: Hark Thy Plea

Chapter 20: I Forgive You

Chapter 21: Preparations

Chapter 22: This is Our Sanctuary

Chapter 23: Way Down We Go

Chapter 24: His Hands Hold My Heart & He Won't Let Go Until It's Scarred

Chapter 25: Darkside

Chapter 26: The Edge of Erasure

Chapter 27: Sin and Shadow

Chapter 28: Blurred Lines

Chapter 29: A Lonely Kind of Love

Chapter 30: A Brand, A Tether

Chapter 31: Ice Meets Fire

Chapter 32: Adrift

AO3 [cross-posted]

If you're interested, I also write a spawn Astarion x Tav fic - Shadows of the Past

I also write a much darker fic for named Durge and AA that I post to A03 exclusively. It's dark, gory, and not about fixing AA but about them becoming an evil power couple if you're interested - Lie to Me

[gravitycavity]

[Preview] Sunshine (Pomni x Ragatha) Chapter 8

Faintly, Ragatha lifted her head. The will to fight faded in her eyes, as though she knew that the frigid despair pumping from her ruptured heart was unstoppable; only a scant few places — the bottoms of her flat Mary Janes, the stitched tips of her simplified hands, and half of her cherubic face — remained un-abstracted.

Still, she spoke through the pain. “I…love you so much, my Sunshine,” she croaked, leaning her head against Pomni’s chest. The weakened grimace upon her face shied away from two tearful eyes. “I’m so, so sorry our story had to end this way…”

“H-Hey! Don’t talk like that!” scolded Pomni between haggard breaths, “It’s not over yet! Everything’s gonna be okay!”

“Maybe,” Ragatha choked out, her worn-out voice shattered to pieces. “Whatever happens, Pomni, I want you to know — you are everything. Just everything. My whole wide world. And you always will be,” she said. Pearly tears glistened down the soft curves of her cheeks. “No matter what comes next, I’ll never forget the time we spent together. I just wish I could have learned your real name. Or brushed my thumbs across your real cheeks, or rested my head on your real shoulders…”

“You will! I promise you will!” Pomni said, a frog in her throat. Her fierce gaze, wet with tears, fixed on the crooked elevator doors down the hall. She was nearly there. A stone’s throw away. Nearly to the end of this horrendous nightmare. “We’re going to get out of this stupid game together, no matter how long it takes us! We’ll find each other in the real world, no matter how far we have to travel, because…” Pomni shakily swallowed, “Because I love you! I love you, Ragatha, more than anything else in this stupid world!”

Ragatha smiled, despite everything. “Sunshine…?” she breathed. The creaking of floorboards beneath Pomni’s feet — and a distant, monstrous groan down the hall — filled in the pregnant pause before the dolly found the strength to speak again, “Humor me?”

Pomni’s brows squinched together. Humor her? What was Ragatha talking about? “H-Huh?”

“Do you…do you still remember the color of your eyes…?”

“Uh—” Pomni’s head flinched slightly. Ragatha’s question wasn’t unusual — but decidedly out-of-the-blue. Her eyes. What color were her eyes? The gut response of ‘ I don’t know’ or ‘why do you ask’ waited impatiently on the tip of her tongue, and yet, Pomni knew in her heart that that wouldn’t do.

“I, um—” Pomni glanced down. Ragatha stared back, black abstraction spreading across a patient, yet expectant look. “That’s a good question…”

It had been ages since Pomni had given herself more than a passing glance in her toothpaste-flecked bathroom mirror, let alone looked away from her big, ugly blemishes long enough to notice such a trivial detail. She could barely even recall the last time anyone had brought up the color of her eyes. Sometime back in the ‘00s, she figured — when life was simple, and she was old enough to count her age on just two hands.

In truth, she was only half-sure, but she couldn’t leave Ragatha hanging. Pomni chewed on the answer a little while longer before finally spitting it out: “Uh. J-Just brown. I think,” she huffed, squinting at her destination. She was close enough now to make out the distinct “C&A” etched above the elevator door, “Nothing too special.”

“Brown…” Ragatha swooned, “...such a charming color. Copper pans, Autumn leaves, fancy leather couches…” she cooed, wearing a peaceful smile even as strands of abstraction stretched across her mouth, “...I can almost see them now. Goodness gracious, how beautiful they are…”

- - -

New chapter soon! Promise!

[sunflowersandsapphires]

Spend a Little

Wake Up, Chapter 1

Series Masterlist           Next Chapter

pairing: Matt Murdock x fem!reader 

summary: In an attempt to stop the advances of an unwanted suitor, Matt Murdock accidentally condemns you to being his fake girlfriend.

warnings: swearing, no use of y/n, descriptions of anxiety

a/n: This chapter is a little slow to start because it was my first time writing Matt. This series is going to be sickly sweet so prepare yourselves. Also, most of the legal knowledge/anecdotes comes from my own experience because I work in a pro bono firm :) 

w/c: just over 3k

Matt clenched his jaw, a flicker of frustration shooting through him. These NYC Bar events weren’t known for being overly accessible, and Foggy had promised to meet him at the entrance to help him navigate so he wouldn’t reveal his…abilities. Sighing, Matt made his way towards the crowd of people to the left of the ballroom entrance, seemingly finding their table assignments on the papers in front of them. His senses frantically searched for anyone that he recognized, but he didn’t smell Karen’s perfume or hear Foggy’s heartbeat. 

As he was internally debating whether to enter the ballroom and simply hope that he could find them, someone at the edge of the crowd in front of him stumbled backwards over his cane. Dropping the cane entirely, he caught her before she could knock them both over in a domino effect. 

She scrambled out of his grasp and whirled around. “Oh my gosh I am so sorry, are you alright?” Her voice was sweet, melodic, and echoed gently through his ears. 

He chuckled, softly, “I am perfectly fine, I promise. Let me just grab my cane…” Matt suddenly realized she had already bent down to pick up his cane. 

“It’s right here, about two inches in front of your right hand.” Heat was pooling in her cheeks, her heart raced with what Matt assumed was a combination of anxiety and embarrassment. “I’m so sorry for bumping you. I get clumsy when I’m nervous.” 

Matt smiled at her endearing admission. “It’s alright, no need to apologize. To be honest with you, I’m nervous myself. I thought my partners were meeting me out front.” 

“Oh no! These things are already so overwhelming, that would put me on edge too.” She shifted back and forth on her feet as Matt listened intently to her beautiful voice and stuttering heart. “Can I help you find your table, at least?” 

“That would be amazing.” Grinning, Matt offered his hand. “Matt Murdock of Nelson, Murdock, and Page.”

You shook his hand, offering your name in return. “It’s nice to meet you Mr. Murdock. Oddly enough, I think we are at the same table. Would you like me to lead you there?” 

“Please! Lead the way” Matt offered his elbow and you gently took it. 

You pulled him around the masses taking immense care to not bump either of you into things. Your pulse fluttered under his arm, beginning to still a slight bit. Eventually, the two of you reached your destination. “We are at our table, there are 8 chairs total, one just slightly to the left of your left hand.” 

“Thank you.” Matt murmured in response, donning a grin that Foggy referred to as a crucial part of his “fail-proof Murdock charm.” As he was about to invite you to sit with him, he heard Karen walk up. 

“Matt, I am so sorry! I was running late and I couldn’t find a taxi and—“ Karen stopped herself, taking in a breath. 

“It’s ok,” Matt assured her, pulling her into a hug. “I had help.” He smiled, turning back to where you were still standing. 

Karen held out her hand. “Karen Page of Nelson, Murdock, and Page.” 

“Nice to meet you, Miss Page.” You two shook hands and you introduced yourself to Karen. After greetings and names had been exchanged, Karen took a seat to Matt’s left. 

Before sitting down, Matt reached slightly to the right of his own chair, pulling out the neighboring seat and turning his attention back to you. “Care to join us at this end of the table? I’d love to have the honor of sitting next to the sweetest girl in the room.” He could practically hear Karen rolling her eyes at his boldness. 

You chuckled, still slightly nervous but eating up his flirtation attempt nonetheless. “The honor is all mine, counselor.” You sat down, careful not to jostle the table. 

As Matt took his seat, he asked, “So, how did you get roped into this event?” 

“Well, I am representing the NYC Pro Bono Association but I also have a friend getting an award tonight so it was sort of a 2 birds, one stone sitiuation.” 

“Ah, so you really had to go. Who’s your friend?” Karen asked, flagging down the waiter for a flute of champagne. 

“Marci Stahl, she’s getting the Association Medal.” Your eyes gleamed with pride as both Matt and Karen gaped in surprise. 

“No way. She’s our partner’s—“

“Girlfriend! Yah, I know. Foggy is great by the way, speaks very highly of you both. Quite often.” Matt could hear the smile in your voice as heat rose in your face again. He wondered why briefly but then…

“Aw, you guys! I’m so flattered but, really, you can talk about something other than my wonderful self when I’m not around.” Foggy’s voice brought a chuckle out of Matt. He heard you startle in your seat, your heart rate spiking again, before standing up to give both Marci and Foggy a hug. Karen followed suit.  

“Matt, Karen, I see you’ve met my favorite volunteer coordinator in the city.” Marci said, squeezing your shoulder and making you flush more. 

“You’ll have to try harder, Marce.” Foggy pinched your cheek, pulling out the chair next to Karen for himself. “I’m afraid she’s the best volunteer coordinator in the state.” 

You took your seat next to Matt once more and leaned over to him, slightly. “I was just promoted, they’re way too excited about it.” You informed him and Karen. 

“Too excited?!” Foggy feigned a gasp, clutching at his chest. “You have had this position for less than two weeks and you managed to place two of our impossible cases.” 

“Wait, that bankruptcy case—you were the miracle worker who placed that shit show?” Matt turned his attention to you, slightly incredulous. 

“Well, yah, but I—“ You stammered, clearly less than comfortable with all the attention. 

“And!” Marci jumped in, running a hand over your arm. “You helped that client get representation for her damages hearing against Headstrong.” Marci turned to face the rest of the table, “The client got the damages halved. HALVED!” 

“No way. Headstrong is the cruelest property manager in Hell’s Kitchen. We thought that case was already decided in their favor!” Karen looked thoroughly impressed. 

“Ok if we’re discussing accomplishments, I’m at a table with three attorneys who took down a crime syndicate and another who’s getting an award from the New York Bar tonight. People should be paying to sit with you four.” You laughed, feeling out of place among such big players in the NYC Law community. After all, you didn’t even have your J.D. yet. 

“We aren’t done complimenting you, young lady.” Foggy pointed his finger at you accusingly. “We’re all incredibly outspoken so you better prepare yourself. But, I suppose we can toast to my beautiful girlfriend. The ASSOCIATION MEDAL RECIPIENT.” He raised his voice, turning towards the other tables slightly to get everyone’s attention. 

“Hear, hear.” Karen laughed, raising her glass. “To Marci!” 

The rest of you raised your glasses, clinking them against each other and laughing amongst yourselves before downing the champagne. 

“Ok, I don’t know about all of you but I’m going to need something stronger to get through this thing.” Marci sighed, looking for a waiter. 

“I could definitely go for a drink.” Matt grumbled, making you laugh. Pretty soon, the emcee started greeting everyone and the five of you settled in for a long evening. 

——————————————————————————————————

After the night of your initial, very awkward, meeting, you began to spend more and more time with Matt. Foggy started inviting you out with them for dinner or drinks. Karen suggested that you meet with them once every couple weeks to help refer cases. And Matt, well, he was charming and sweet, often offering to walk you home or help you get a cab. You thoroughly enjoyed your time with all of them, but Matt was some of the best company you’d kept in a while. 

It was hard to believe how comfortable you already were with him—yet, here you were, practically pressed against him in a booth at Josie’s. 

Foggy, quite inebriated at this point, claps his hands together and gasps at you. “Have you told them about getting blacklisted by Davis and Campbell?”

You groaned. “Foggy, please don’t make me tell this story.”

“Now you have to tell us. What could you have done to lose the support of an entire firm?” Matt scoffs at you, already laughing. 

“Oh god” You buried your face in your hands, but began the story nonetheless. “Well, one of the senior attorneys was representing this police officer who had bludgeoned peaceful protestors and put a 17 year old in the ICU. And the asshole was bragging about it, saying how it was a toss away win and the protestors deserved it blah blah blah.” 

“Ugh, what a douchebag.” Karen grimaced. 

“Right!” You exclaimed, eyes widening. “And this was a cause that my organization had publicly backed and spoken about with his firm! So, naturally, I had to take him down a peg because what was I gonna do—just quietly sit there? I started in on him, telling him that if he wanted our partnership he was going to need to be respectful towards adverse parties, be less cocky about it, be more thoughtful about community movements. But I went a little…too big with it.” 

Matt was practically vibrating with anticipation, his hip pressed to yours. “Please tell me you cussed him out.”

“Not exactly…I called him a bootlicker in front of the entire room” You shook your head as the entire table erupted into laughter and cheers. “God, I wish I could say I regretted it but he totally deserved it.” 

Matt cackled, Karen gawked in disbelief. “You called him a bootlicker? To his face? But you’re so sweet and quiet!” 

“I can be noisy if I need to be.” You smirked. 

“That’s a good quality to have.” Matt nearly purrs, sliding his arm around your shoulders. You shove at his chest, laughing. 

“That’s not what I meant, you perv.” 

He squeezed your shoulder and removed his arm. “I know, I’m teasing you. But, seriously, I’m glad you called him out. You shouldn’t regret that.” 

You smiled down at your lap. He gently nudged you with his hip, smiling. You nudged him back, heart beating faster as you watched him wet his lips. 

You stared at him for a moment, taking in how handsome he looked in the dim lighting when you noticed the others staring at you. 

Foggy smiled, waggling his eyebrows. “I’m sorry, did you want us to leave?” He gestured to himself and Karen. Karen laughed and gave you a pointed look. 

You moved out of Matt’s space slightly, shaking your head to clear out the thoughts of kissing Matt. You’d barely been friends for three months! It wasn’t worth jeopardizing that. 

“Sorry.” You murmured. Matt’s face fell, but he quickly recovered. 

“Who wants another round?” Without waiting for the answer, Matt got up and walked briskly towards the bar. You bit your bottom lip, feeling guilty for ruining his night so suddenly. 

——————————————————————————————————

The office was buzzing with activity and Matt was starting to get a headache. 

“Thank you so much for your time, Mrs. Alvarez. Is there anything else you need from me today?” He plastered on a smile. 

“No, no. Thank you so much Mr. Murdock. You don’t know how much this means to me.” The woman before him sounded like she was holding back tears. 

“It’s not a problem. We will get you your benefits back, I’m confident. Have a good day and let us know if you need anything else.” He opened the office door for her as she thanked him profusely. 

After Mrs. Alvarez left, Matt let his back fall gently against the door. He sighed roughly, scrubbing a hand down his face. At least he had a minute to think before his next client. 

Then, he heard a set of heels clicking down the hallway. A very specific, overwhelming perfume drafted through their floor of the building. Notes of vetiver and blackberry slowly trying to suffocate him. 

This was so not what he needed today. He heard the commotion as she entered the room. 

“Ms. Snyder! What a pleasure.” Foggy’s heart stuttered. ‘Lie’ Matt chuckled to himself.

“It’s Miss Snyder, Mr. Nelson. Ms. makes me feel like a  walking fossil, but I am still woefully single.” She let out a sharp bark of a laugh at her self-deprecating humor. 

“Ah, yes. Forgive me. How can I help you?” 

Beatrice Snyder was a ruthless partner at Hogarth, Chao & Benowitz. She was known for being incredibly unforgiving and for her intolerance of “shenanigans”, as she liked to say. Matt, Foggy, and Karen were always polite, as she could be a fantastic ally if she chose to be and they had heard horror stories of those who got on her bad side. However, it was sometimes difficult to bite their tongues, given that she was cold, uncaring, and a vicious coquette who had set her sights on Matthew Murdock when he was fresh out of law school. 

Being a huge flirt himself, you’d think Matt would’ve been comfortable with her advances, but Snyder was not one to take no for an answer and Matt had tired of her seduction attempts ages ago. 

He could practically feel her wicked smile as she said “I’ve come to speak with your partner about a business opportunity, of course. Is he available?” 

Matt bit back a groan, and left the safety of his office. “Miss Snyder! How lovely for you to visit.” He gave a small, tight-lipped smile. 

“Speak of the handsome devil,” Snyder giggled, sounding more like a tortured dolphin than a charming suitor. “And how many times must I ask, Matthew, call me Beatrice.” 

“My apologies, Beatrice.” He spat out her name, practically gritting his teeth. “Can we help you?”

“Yes, well, I was hoping you’d accompany me to the upcoming Liberty Gala at Landman and Zach next weekend? I assume you’ve all been invited…” 

Matt nodded, “We have, yes.” 

“It would be a wonderful opportunity for us to get to know each other, rather intimately.”

Matt’s mind was racing, desperately trying to think of an excuse. “Well, I appreciate the thought, but…you see—I—“

“Matt actually has a girlfriend.” Foggy blurted, smiling hastily. “Yup, Matt has a wonderful, totally real girlfriend.” 

“Oh?” Beatrice shifted on her feet, clearly not expecting this news about the famed bachelor of the office. 

“Yes, it’s a—uh—recent development.” Matt stated. 

“It’s new but they’re quite serious so I’m afraid he cannot attend with you.” Foggy said matter-of-factly. 

“I suppose not. What’s your girlfriend’s name? I’ll want to congratulate her on landing such a man.” Beatrice directed the question at Matt, causing him to panic. 

And this is where it all went sideways. Because Matt, who usually prides himself on his ability to think quickly, blurted out the name that no one expected. Yours. 

“Oh, that little project supervisor from the Pro Bono council?” 

“Volunteer coordinator, actually.” Matt corrected, feeling Foggy’s eyes burning a hole through his skull. What exactly had he just done. “And yes, that’s her. My girlfriend.” 

“Well…” Beatrice sucked in a breath, clearly fuming. “I’ll see you both next Friday then. I assume she’ll be your plus one?”

“Um—“ Matt hesitated. 

“She’ll be there!” Foggy jumped in, unhelpfully. 

“Then I will see the two of you at the gala. Do give her my regards.” She didn’t even bother smiling as she spun on her heel and stalked out of their office. 

“You are so screwed Murdock.” Foggy shook his head, chuckling breathily. “You are so utterly, completely, devastatingly—“

“Screwed. Yup, I got it.” Matt’ brow furrowed. “Any advice on how to ask someone to be your fake girlfriend at an event with the biggest crowd of bullshit-detectors in the state?” 

“No idea, but tell me when you’re going to ask her so I can bring popcorn.” 

“You’re the worst.” Matt groaned. 

“Yah, well. Can’t say I want to be you right now, dude. But it will be entertaining to watch.”

———————————————————————————————————

Matt wasn’t really sure how he expected you to react. With disgust maybe? Anger? What he definitely did NOT expect, was for you to burst out laughing. 

“Wait, wait” you could barely get a word out you were laughing so hard. “This woman has been after you for years and not only have you never pretended to be taken, but the first time you use this excuse, I end up as your fake girlfriend?” 

“Yes that about sums it up.” Matt grumbles miserably, Foggy patting his shoulder and popping a few more pieces of popcorn into his mouth. 

“Well, I can’t say this is what I expected to hear when Foggy texted me that there was an emergency,” Your laughter faded to small giggles, which lifted Matt’s spirits despite his embarrassment. “But, I guess I’m mostly glad none of you are gravely injured or something.” 

“Yah, sorry. It seemed like, very urgent at the time” Foggy rubbed the back of his neck, sheepishly. 

“It’s ok! Though I suppose the real question is, what time are you picking me up?”

“What?” Both Matt and Foggy asked, equally astounded. 

“I mean, I can totally meet you there, but I’m thinking it’ll be more believable if we arrive at the gala together.”

“You—you’re not mad?” Matt asked, still waiting for the other shoe to drop. 

“No, of course not!” You chirped, reassuringly. 

“And, not only are you not mad that I just lied to a very important woman about us being together and potentially dragged you into some intense dramatics,” Matt continued. “But you’re going to come with me?” 

“Yep!”

“As my plus one.”

“Yes, Matt.” 

“To pretend to be my girlfriend.”

You laughed again, finding his hand under the table and squeezing it gently, making Matt’s heart skip a beat. “Yes, of course I will. Snyder is a stone cold bitch. If this will help you not be harassed, I’ll absolutely be your fake girlfriend.” 

Matt felt his heart sink slightly, but he didn’t have time to reflect on why. 

“Have we told you how amazing you are recently because you’re amazing.” Foggy beamed at you, embarrassing you with his praise. 

“It’s nothing.” 

“No, Foggy’s right. You’re—incredible. Truly.” Matt said, squeezing your hand again. 

Your heart pounded, but you smiled. “I’d do anything for you guys. I mean it.” You took a breath, drawing your hand out of Matt’s and clasping your hands together. 

“Now, tell me as much about yourself as you can. We’ll need crash courses on each other if we want to be convincing.” 

Foggy laughed. “You are both so screwed.”

[badbatchposts]

Quiet Corners of the Galaxy, Ch. 20

Fic Teaser: While on a routine mission for Cid, the Bad Batch encounter a woman fleeing from the Empire. Crosshair suspects her seemingly free-spirited, nomadic existence is actually a cover for something else, but struggles to keep his attraction toward her in check as their personalities and ideals clash.

Relevant tags/content warnings: Crosshair/Original Female Character, Slow Burn, Enemies to Lovers, Periodic Smut, Canon-Typical Violence, Alcohol Use

Read the full fic so far on AO3

Read previous chapters on Tumblr: Ch. 1 l Ch. 2 l Ch. 3 l Ch. 4 l Ch. 5 l Ch. 6 l Ch. 7 l Ch. 8 l Ch. 9 l Ch. 10 l Ch. 11 l Ch. 12 l Ch. 13 l Ch. 14 l Ch. 15 l Ch. 16 l Ch. 17 l Ch. 18 l Ch. 19

Chapter 20 summary: Dara comes to on the Marauder, but her interrogation doesn't go as planned.

When Dara came to with a groan several hours later, the first thing she noticed was the rhythmic whirring of the Marauder’s hyperdrive. The second thing was how unamused Hunter looked.

“Start talking,” the Sergeant growled. She was sure he was used to that expression and tone being intimidating.

Dara said nothing. Instead, she tested the tightness of the binders that held her wrists behind her back and examined her surroundings. The cargo hold, which had served as her bedroom for weeks, was now their interrogation room. They would want to keep her as far away from the nav computer as possible—if they were still planning on going to Rex’s base, they didn’t want her knowing their destination. She wasn’t entirely sure why they would even risk bringing her with them, but the Batch often did things she didn’t wholly understand. In fact, she wasn’t sure why they had let her stick around for so long in the first place. Or why Crosshair had gone out of his way to intervene when the Imperials almost had her.

Speaking of which. Hunter and Tech were the only two in the hold with her, which gave her some relief—if it had been the sniper, she didn’t think an ex-Imperial would have as many qualms about what methods he used to get the information they were looking for.

Especially now that she’d learned the truth about him, that slimy—

“We are aware that you are working with Saw Gerrera,” Tech put forward. Dara remained impassive. She wasn’t sure what had given her away. Maybe Rex had finally remembered her, from when he’d trained them to fight back against the droids all those years ago on Onderon. She had risked a lot on the idea that he would have forgotten her by now, but even back then she had always kept a low profile, merging into the background, never standing out, and their contact had been minimal.

Hunter was now taking his turn. Dara wondered idly if they had practiced who would be good cop and who would be bad cop, or if they had just naturally fallen into their roles.

“We haven’t always seen eye to eye with Saw, but it’s a low blow for him to spy on us. Which means we aren’t feeling very kindly toward his spy. Especially after you shot Wrecker,” the Sergeant threatened darkly.

She rolled her eyes, finally deigning to respond. “It was on stun. He didn’t even go down. I doubt he has so much as a headache. I didn’t have to use stun blasts, you know.”

“I believe you did,” Tech replied. He was far less hostile than his brother, his eyes gleaming with something like intrigue behind his goggles. “Because you wish to be our ally. In fact, we could consider this to be an information exchange. As you are already aware, Rex has been organizing to help free and protect our fellow clones from the Empire. And as we are aware, your own organization likely has intelligence that could aid us in that endeavor.”

Dara clammed up again. Hunter leaned toward her, his eyes deadly. “Or, if you don’t want to talk, we could send Crosshair in here and see how things go then. Your choice. I’ll let you think about it.” The Sergeant exited the cargo hold, closing the door behind him, while Tech remained—to keep watch over her, she supposed.

She doubted Hunter would really let Crosshair do anything to her. Despite what happened with the Jedi, the clones had a code of honor.

Well. Most of them.

They sat in silence for a few moments, Tech working diligently on something on his datapad, before Dara spoke up.

“You shouldn’t be contacting Rex via holo. It’s bad infosec. Too easy to trace.” When she had first seen Rex’s face appear in the Marauder, she hadn’t just been surprised to find he was still alive; for most of their subsequent meeting she had been convinced the Empire was minutes from barging down their door. With the clones inside the warehouse, she had even taken up a position on the roof so that she would be able to warn them the moment any Imperial ships arrived.

Tech glanced at her, scoffing. “Perhaps for your organization. I encrypted and secured all communications for Rex myself.”

“Hmm.” Dara couldn’t help herself from looking a little impressed, and Tech took the opportunity to see if he could press her further.

“You have more stringent security protocols in your group?” he inquired. She didn’t reply, setting her mouth into a stubborn line, so he continued. “We are familiar with your use of the smugglers’ sub-space communications array on Ord Mantell. It is risky to put yourself in a situation where you rely on the discretion of criminals, but I suppose you do not have the capacity to replicate these set-ups on as many planets as would be necessary to make the network viable.”

He was right. It was a dilemma she had agonized and debated over, but ultimately they had decided it was the safest among a litany of risky options for their field agents to check in regularly. And, of course, there were the ways she had devised to make it safer.

The ways she had just ignored in her urgency to discuss the clones with Saw. But they shouldn’t have been able to listen in, not unless they were monitoring everything that passed through the smugglers’ comm network.

Then again, this was Tech. Maybe she shouldn’t put it past him.

When Dara remained silent, Tech shrugged and returned to his datapad, no doubt researching as much about Saw’s group as he could access to help him start filling the gaps. They knew too much already, in her opinion, but they would not be finding out more from her.

A few moments later, Tech peered up at her again. “You should know that, when we arrive, you will be left with Crosshair, as Hunter has stated. I will instruct him not to harm you, but as you are no doubt aware, his attitude toward you is extraordinarily hostile, and has only worsened upon confirming his suspicions. It may be best to speak with me before this occurs.”

Dara narrowed her eyes. Her voice betrayed every ounce of the violence and rage she had been repressing since she learned from Saw that Crosshair had been responsible for the death of her fellow rebel—her friend. Shot point blank, and the civilians she had been evacuating massacred.

“If you leave me alone in a room with that Imperial scum, only one of us is walking out,” she warned.

Behind his goggles, Tech’s eyes softened with sympathy.

“Dara… Crosshair’s actions against your comrades were terrible. But they were not his own. The inhibitor chip in the brain of all clones activated for him. We lost him for a long time. He was controlled, compelled to follow orders. It is very difficult for Crosshair to acknowledge his emotions—but I know he regrets it. I know he is sorry.”

Dara liked Tech, truly. She liked the whole Batch, with one obvious exception. But at that moment, she wanted to knock his lights out. She didn’t want his pity.

She looked away from him, resting her head back against the wall.

“Sorry won’t bring them back.”

***

Dara rotated her neck, trying to relieve the ache in her shoulders from sitting for so long with her wrists bound behind her. With the ship having just powered down upon landing, she was straining her ears to hear any activity out in the hallway that would give her a hint as to the Batch’s plans, but of course they knew better than to discuss them within earshot.

She had known this was a bad idea.

Her last mission had been a bad idea from the very beginning, in fact. Sneaking into an Imperial facility was always a bit of a risk, and going undercover for weeks with no backup ready to extract her if things went south was even worse. But she was used to working alone, and there had been no one else to spare for this operation.

She couldn’t arrive in her own ship either, had to leave it hidden near a spaceport and take a commercial transport to avoid suspicion when she began a position as a clerical worker under the vice-governor of some Force-forsaken desert planet. But she bided her time, familiarized herself with the facility, got the data they were after.

It had all gone fine, up until the moment she’d been caught in the act.

She’d barely made it to the hangar and onto a shuttle, and not without effort or injury. Only to crash-land right into another fever-wasp’s nest, barely getting out of it—surviving only thanks to that kriffing asshole.

She knew she should’ve just hopped on a transport back to her ship when they arrived at Ord Mantell, whether the Empire might have tracked it down or not. It was always pushing it, sticking with them for as long as she did, especially since Crosshair had been suspicious from the very beginning. But she had to lay low for a while anyway, and she thought that if she could recruit them somehow, find the clone network she had been hearing about, they’d mean everything for the cause. They were all good at what they did, she couldn’t deny that.

Even that asshole. If only she’d known he had been Imperial, if she’d known from the beginning what he’d done, she could’ve taken him out and disappeared before this whole thing got out of hand.

Speak of the sand demon—the cargo hold door opened to reveal the sniper, looking, even more than usual, like someone had pissed in his breakfast.

Maybe she’d still get her chance.

Dara schooled her expression into passivity as Crosshair approached. It was not an easy task; in normal circumstances she was a durasteel wall, blank, impossible to read. But her time with the Batch had challenged her. More specifically, he had challenged her, getting better and better at provoking a reaction. And now, she felt her righteous anger seething under every inch of skin as she was faced with him again.

Jolla’s killer. Her friend, gone, at the flash of a blaster. His blaster.

Crosshair’s eyes glittered dangerously, and Dara could imagine him doing it so easily. He was cold.

He was also still so painfully attractive, a small, traitorous part of her reminded. Her heart was beating fast, and she had to suppress a shiver, both reactions that, she insisted to herself, had everything to do with the danger she was in, and nothing to do with the memory of him crowding into her as she perched atop that crate only a rotation earlier. It didn’t matter that she no longer had that sort of reaction when under threat—not since early in the war.

Keep it together, she reminded herself. She could get out of this.

Finally, the sniper spoke. “I knew all along you were trouble, burk’yc.” His voice was a coiled whisper, a rock viper preparing to strike.

Should she rise to the bait or continue with the silent treatment? Dara knew that silence was often the prudent choice in an interrogation, but she had also learned that Crosshair’s presence kept her from acting rationally. In lieu of answer, she strained at her binders, focusing on the way they dug into her wrists, letting the pain ground her.

She was seated against the wall, and Crosshair’s tall, thin frame loomed over her. His gaze raked along her body, lingering for a moment on the binders. He leaned over and tucked one slender finger under her chin, tilting her face up until she met his eyes defiantly.

He smirked. “Although I can’t deny how much I like seeing you bound and at my mercy.”

The roles were reversed so quickly that he didn’t even see how it happened.

While Crosshair was distracted with his gloating—no doubt planning something heinous, Dara thought—she had found her contingency plan tucked behind a loosened panel in the wall behind her: a hidden vibroblade. In a single motion, never breaking eye contact, she had sliced her binders apart, leaping to her feet and pressing the edge to Crosshair’s neck. She backed him against the wall, watching his pupils widen as she allowed the knife to break the skin ever-so-slightly.

“Some of the others in our group think I’m paranoid, you know,” Dara began conversationally. “But it’s not paranoid to always have a back-up plan. Or two. Or three.”

Crosshair got over his momentary shock, glaring at his change in fortune. She could see in his eyes how he immediately set his mind to working at a way out of it, and she knew she had to be careful—he had enough height and weight on her that if she gave an inch, he could easily overpower her.

“Does Saw think that?” he growled. “He must have so little faith in you. Hasn’t he seen how good his little spy is at playing the whore?”

Dara laughed, full-bellied laughed at him. “You can do better than that pathetic attempt at riling me up. But I guess I shouldn’t expect much from Imperial filth.”

The sniper bared his teeth. “I’m not with the Empire.”

Dara leaned even closer. He could feel her hot breath on his face, and the knife stung a bit deeper into his skin. “You did plenty of damage while you were,” she hissed. “Do you even remember any of their faces, or have there been too many to keep track?”

Crosshair broke eye contact, his anger and bravado gone in a pained instant. He had known his actions would catch up with him one day, and now they were finally coming back to haunt him—at knifepoint, no less.

“I remember,” he croaked.

“Do you?” Dara spat out. “Do you remember the elderly? The children? My friend—” She broke off for a moment, took in a shaky breath. “You don’t even know what I’ve lost.”

They were both silent for a moment, breathing heavily, before Dara gained control over her grief and resumed her venomous tirade. “You’re not going to defend yourself, then? Blame it all on the chip, maybe? Say how sorry you are? Beg for your life?”

The sniper’s amber eyes snapped back to hers, and she immediately wished they hadn’t. She recognized the ache in them too easily.

“Go ahead and kill me,” Crosshair stated plainly. His gravelly voice began as a whisper, but gained in strength as he continued. “On Onderon it was the chip. But I still…deserve it. I did the same thing to plenty more…even after I had the chip out.”

This sudden admission had thrown Dara off, but Crosshair was no longer aiming to catch her by surprise or wriggle out of the situation. He had avoided thinking about it for so long, but now the floodgates were open, and he couldn’t stop as he heard the words spill out, tinged with desperation.

“You don’t know what it’s like, not to be in control. I remember all of their faces. I watched myself do it like my body wasn’t my own anymore. I tried to kill my own squad, my brothers. And when the chip was finally gone, I kept going. As if—as if doing the same things of my own free will would help convince me it was my choice all along.” He was begging now, but not for his life, or even for forgiveness. “So it was my fault. I deserve it. Kill me.”

Crosshair still didn’t look away as he waited. All he could think of was the irony, that the vengeance he was owed would finally be brought down upon him by her, of all people. The one he’d saved.

Dara eased up a little on the knife, but not enough for him to move. It was hard to read her turbulent expression, myriad emotions all flaring up and gone in seconds, like a series of flashbangs.

“I’m no executioner,” she finally choked out. “Not like the Empire. Not like you.”

With her free hand, she reached behind him to another panel in the wall and found her second contingency. He almost welcomed the darkness when it hit him.

Tag list: @stardusthuntress @skellymom @megmegalodondon @somewhere-on-kamino @morerandombullshit @zahmaddog

Thanks again to @cloneflo99 for the amazing banner!!!

Next chapter

[verai-marcel]

Your Hearth Is My Home (BG3 Fanfic, Astarion x Female Reader, Part 22 of 28)

Summary, Notes, Tags, & Part 1 are here.

Act I - Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4 | Part 5 | Part 6 | Part 7 | Part 8 | Part 9 | Part 10 | Part 11 | Part 12

Act II - Part 13 | Part 14 | Part 15 | Part 16 | Part 17 | Part 18 | Part 19 | Part 20 | Part 21 | 

Act III - Part 22 | Part 23 | Part 24 | Part 25 | Part 26 | Part 27 (18+) | Part 28 (END)

AO3 Link is here, darling.

Word Count: 4,003

—————————————

Act III, Chapter 1 - The Gate

As you entered the outskirts of the city, you, Halsin, and Karlach split off from the main group to secure your next campground, while the others started looking around for Astarion’s siblings and for Lae’zel’s contact.

You offered a small girl, Yenna, some food and a few coins, but when she asked to join your camp, you looked at the others and you all agreed it would be safer if she didn’t stay with your group. 

“I’m sorry, sweetheart,” you said, kneeling down so you speak to her face to face. “It’s dangerous to stay with us. We have enemies, and they could hurt you.”

The little girl nodded. “All right. I understand.”

“We’ll walk with you to the temple, perhaps? Find a safe place for you there,” Karlach said.

You took her to the temple nearby, only to find it closed off.

“Murders? At the temple?” Karlach muttered.

You looked down at the girl. “Perhaps… somewhere else.”

Wandering into the refugee area, you eventually ran into some of the tieflings you had met back in the grove. They agreed to take in the human girl, feeling sorry for her having lost her mum.

“You haven’t seen Mol on your travels, have you?” one of the tiefling children asked. 

You shook your head. “No dear, I’m sorry.”

“We’ll keep an eye out for her, alright? I bet she’s alive, that li’l rascal,” Karlach assured them.

“Of course she is! She’s tough,” one of the other kids replied, as if it was obvious.

Leaving Yenna in caring hands, your trio wandered a little further and found an abandoned farmhouse off the beaten path, with a large yard and ruined buildings.

The three of you looked at each other and grinned.

“Perfect.”

***

You had set up nearly everyone’s tents, while Karlach had wandered off to let everyone know where the camp was. Halsin was setting up his own tent, while Scratch & Owly were already running around, sniffing the perimeter and chasing each other around. Owly had certainly grown bigger in the weeks since he had joined your merry little troupe, and you couldn’t let him sit in your lap anymore. He had grown too large and would probably crush your legs at this point.

But he was still lovable and huggable, so when he nearly ran past you, you leapt upon him and hugged him tight. You could hear his childish giggle in your head as you rubbed his belly.

~~More, more!~~

~Me too, me too!~ Scratch added as he joined your puppy pile.

You played with your beloved friends, not realizing that Withers had appeared. His shadow spooked you, and you turned with a gasp.

“Oh, it’s just you.”

“Hmm.”

“How… do you always find us? And why don’t you just walk with us to our next destination?”

Withers stared at you for a few moments, making you feel uncomfortable. “Thou needest not know.”

You shrugged. As per usual, his non-answer gave nothing away. “Fine.” Giving the two furballs one last pat before shooing them away to play elsewhere, you slowly walked with Withers as he claimed a spot in front of a boarded up, half-ruined building. 

“So… You once said that fate brought me here, but it was up to me to stay, right?”

He closed his eyes slowly, then just as slowly, opened them. “I believe I said the rest was up to thee.”

“The rest of what?”

He did not answer.

“You’re infuriating, you know that?”

You swore you saw a hint of a smile flicker on his dried up lips before he returned to his neutral, almost bored expression.

***

It was nightfall before the others returned, gathering around the campfire and trading stories. You overhead quite a bit, and realized that there was a lot going on. As you flitted about, you could hear fragments of conversation, discussing their next moves.

“Oh, we ran into Orin today.”

“Really? So did we!”

“Wait, who’s Orin again?” you asked, coming closer to the campfire.

They described her, a changeling woman in a red outfit, murder in her eyes and a dangerous aura.

“If you think she’s nearby, just run,” Shadowheart said. “Find one of us if you can.”

You gulped and nodded.

Gods, is it really alright for me to stay with them? If she can impersonate anyone, she could…

You shook your head. You’d just have to stay vigilant.

***

As you finished all your prepwork for the night, you found Astarion sitting by the fire, tossing the feywild bell idly as he stared into the flames. You immediately grabbed it out of the air and clutched it close to your chest.

“Careful with that!” you nearly screeched.

He looked at you. “Calm down, did you really think I would drop it?”

“I’m not taking any chances.”

He shrugged.

You suddenly had an idea. “You don’t need this feywild bell anymore, right?”

“I suppose not.” He cocked his head, an eyebrow raised. “You want it so badly?”

“I don’t want anyone else to be tempted to ask her other questions,” you replied. “It’s bad news, messing with a pixie.”

He shrugged. “All right. I guess it doesn’t serve much of a purpose now that we’re here.” He waved a hand dismissively towards you. “You can have it. Just remember that I was nice to you.”

You grinned. “How could I forget? It happens so rarely, it’s like a little treat.”

“Cheeky kitten.”

“Stingy cat.”

***

A few days passed in the relative calm in Rivington, with the others investigating their various leads and returning at night to share notes. They hadn’t gotten much further to figuring out how to get close to Gortash without basically fighting the entirety of the Flaming Fist, nor finding out where Orin was hiding. Lae’zel had been close to getting answers about her issue, but you had overheard them talking about finding another way, because she had been considering making a deal with Raphael.

“You want to sign your soul to a devil?” you had asked Lae’zel later that night.

She had looked away. “I must do what must be done. The Comet will fly free again.”

You sighed. “Don’t throw away your soul so quickly when there may be a better way, with some effort and some planning.”

To your surprise, she had listened to you, and the next day, you had overheard them talking about finding a way into Raphael’s home to steal some kind of weapon.

Okay, not quite what I had in mind, but at least her soul will stay free.

***

On the first day of autumn, the others came back during the middle of the day, to your surprise.

“We found a little place along the harbor,” Jaheira said. “I pulled some strings, so we can use it as our base of operations for now.”

You nodded. “Alright, let’s get going.”

***

Walking through Basilisk Gate and into the city, you couldn’t help the chill of anxiety running through your veins. 

The Zhentarim are here. They barely looked for me before, and I doubt they’d even remember the bounty on my head now, even if it was still available. Maybe I’m just being paranoid.

And yet despite your logic, your anxiety wouldn’t go away.

You followed the others as they led you and the floating disc full of backpacks, bedrolls, and rolled up tents to the water’s edge. As you approached what appeared to be a dilapidated archway, you didn’t bat an eye. After all, you were used to such shitty locales. However, as you walked through, your jaw dropped. The harbor site was ridiculously huge. It spanned several buildings, an abandoned chapel amongst them, with a magnificent view of the water.

“A little place, Jaheira?” you asked her as you set up the main area up within a large veranda. “This is practically a mansion compared to where we’ve been staying before.” You sidled up to her and eyed her curiously. “What kind of strings did you pull? Garrotes?”

She laughed. “Don’t underestimate the power of a few names,” she said as she took her pack from the floating disc. “Now, if you’ll excuse me, I’m going to pick a good spot for myself.”

You shrugged. Ever since she had permanently joined your group, she had declined your offer to cast your cantrips on her gear, and you respected that. She seemed a relatively private person; you could relate.

Setting up the veranda as the communal area, you hummed peacefully as you worked. A shadow overhead blocked the setting sun for a moment, alerting you to some welcome visitors. You walked over to greet Isobel and Dame Aylin as they landed on the lower level, near the water.

“Do you mind if we stay in your camp for a bit while we get our bearings?”

“Not a problem, although I’m sorry to say we don’t have any spare tents. We do have a couple of extra bedrolls though.”

“They can use my tent,” Shadowheart said. “I… can find other accommodations.”

You blinked. Then you grinned like a cat that had just caught a mouse.

She glared at you.

The others politely said nothing at your silent banter, but you resisted teasing her in front of your guests. “Well, since Shadowheart is being so kind, let me prepare the tent to your preferred temperature.”

***

You entered Astarion’s tent to see him reading that creepy book again. He closed it and heaved a huge sigh.

“Did… did you finish reading it?” 

There were shadows beneath his eyes and he looked a bit weary. “Yes, finally.”

“Did you get what you needed out of it?”

He shrugged. “Yes? No? I’m not sure. It is full of terrible secrets, including Cazador’s bloody ‘Rite of Profane Ascension’, but it told me nothing new.”

Then he grinned. “Then again, it was filled with otherworldly power. Which I am more than happy to wield to my advantage.”

You raised an eyebrow. “Alright, well, as long as the price isn’t too high.”

“And what price would that be?”

“Your soul. Your freedom.”

He put the book away and patted the bedroll beside him. As you knelt down, he promptly laid his head onto your lap. You automatically began to run your hands through his hair, feeling his contentment through the soft touch of your fingers on his scalp.

If he were a cat, I bet he’d be purring right now.

“What if the price was souls other than ours?” he said slowly.

You looked down at him. “This is about ascending, isn’t it?”

“Yes, naturally.”

You blew out a breath. “I don’t think giving a devil any souls is good for anyone, even the contractor.”

Astarion frowned. “I thought you were with me on this. Besides, I’ll need something to protect me from the sun if things don’t work out with our parasite friends. This ritual could set me free.” He sat up and took your hands in his, meeting your eyes and looking a little vulnerable. “And you want what’s best for me, surely?”

You almost wished he was being manipulative, but from your touch, you could tell that he truly thought this was the best way. It would be harder to change his mind since his convictions were true. “Of course I do, but I don’t think it’ll be best for you in the long run.”

“There won’t be a long run if I die in the sunlight,” he replied harshly.

His frustration with you felt like a hot iron pan on your skin, and you flinched, pulling your hands away. He immediately softened his expression.

“I’m doing this for you, too, you know. To make sure we’re both safe. Forever, for good.”

“We can be safe if Cazador is killed. Your… colleagues… need not be sacrificed.”

“They’re not sweet innocents. They brought him just as many victims as I did.”

You frowned. Doesn’t that make them the same as you? Or even me, when I had to kill to keep my own life? “You don’t think any of them would spare you, if the situation was reversed?”

“No,” he said definitively. “No one ever looked out for me. No one ever said a kind thing to me.” He paused, taking your hand again. “You’re the first one to care. Other people don’t have a heart like you. You’re… you. No one is like that.”

“I’m not—”

“Ah, don’t sell yourself so short.” He gently caressed your cheek, a strum of possessiveness plucking its way through the tenderness of his touch. “You’re the only thing in the world I care about. And that’s all that matters to me.”

Warning bells went off in your head as that hum of covetousness grew louder with each caress. Did he just call me a ‘thing’? “Then listen to me. Don’t lose yourself just to gain power.”

He frowned. His hand, which had been gently resting on the back of your neck, suddenly tightened ever so slightly. “I’ll do whatever it takes to see you safe, even if you don’t appreciate it.”

…mine… MINE…

Your heart pounded in fear at the intensity of his emotions, though you could tell that he didn’t realize how much he was projecting. “I… I need some air.”

His anxiety peaked, but you couldn’t deal with it as your own unstable emotions began to make your heart pound. You pulled away from him and left the tent, not letting yourself look back.

Outside in the night air, you took a few calming breaths as you walked toward the edge of the water. The moon shone brightly in the sky, its reflection a silver disc shimmering on the surface of the river.

What is happening to him? Am I really the first person he’s ever cared about? Is that why he’s so focused on keeping me safe?

Staring out toward the horizon, you wondered when he began to see you as more of a possession, and no longer an independent person.

I need to set things straight.

By the time you came back into the tent, Astarion was already in a trance.

Perhaps tomorrow, then.

***

The next morning, bright and early, you awoke alone. Coming out, you noticed that your companions had already left on their adventures, having eaten some cold cuts and fruits. 

Missed my chance to talk to Astarion. Dammit. I’ll do it tonight. I hate confrontations, but… I can’t let this slide.

As you were cooking a small breakfast for yourself, you saw to your surprise that Gale had returned.

“How would you like to come with me to Sorcerous Sundries?”

“I thought you and the others already got what you needed from there.”

He shrugged. “Well, yes, but there could be more information there that might help.”

You looked at his hopeful expression for a moment. “No one else wanted to go again, hm?”

He frowned. “I just thought you might want a chance to get out of camp, that’s all.”

You raised an eyebrow. “Not even Shadowheart wanted to go?”

Gale sighed. “No, not even her.”

Laughing, you patted him on the back. “I’ll accompany you, my friend. After all, I have a few things I’d like to research.”

***

Staring up at the huge tower, you realized that calling it a bookstore was disrespectful. The place was a treasure trove of tomes, a wondrous collection of knowledge and lore that you could barely comprehend. It was hard not to wander off and get lost in all of the aisles, just reading all the titles. Gale told you he was going to have a look around and ask an employee for certain texts, and that he’d meet you at the front desk when he was done. So you wandered off to look for books about songs and the Sylvan language.

My mother may have never taught me Sylvan, but I can at least try on my own… if there is anything here.

After some searching, you managed to find a thin book that had a rudimentary translation of a Sylvan poem. It would have to do for now. 

You also found a book from the School of Song that Gale had mentioned a while back, with some introductory songs. Purchasing the two books ate into your gold pouch quite a bit, but it was worth it.

You were already working through one of the songs in your head when Gale came to the front desk.

“Oh? Found something you liked?”

You nodded. “Yes, a book from the School of Song. Hopefully I can learn some new musical spells.”

Gale took you back to the harbor before heading off to find the others. You spent the rest of the afternoon doing some chores around the camp. 

By the time the sun set over the water, you could hear some of your companions entering the campsite, sharing their stories of the day.

You realized that Gale, Shadowheart, Karlach, and Astarion hadn’t returned with them.

“Do you know where the others went?” you asked.

Wyll scratched his chin. “Shadowheart mentioned something about finding a lead while searching for her parents.”

You closed your eyes and tried to find that dark purple strand of power that you associated with Shadowheart. Now that you had subtly tried it a few times this past week, analysing the feel of each of your companions’ powers, you could quickly feel them out without having to see them. After half a minute, you gave up. She was too far away.

“I hope they’re okay,” you said. 

Wyll patted your shoulder. “They’ll be fine. Karlach is with them, after all,” he said half-jokingly.

You smiled. “You two have gotten along quite well, considering how things started.”

“And to think I was going to kill her, assuming she was a devil of the hells.” He scoffed self-deprecatingly. “She’s a breath of fresh air at the end of a long day. I…”

You watched his eyes widen before his whole expression softened oh so tenderly. “Well, I respect and admire her a great deal,” he finally said.

Gently touching his arm and squeezing it reassuringly, you confirmed your suspicions. You love her. “I’m sure she’d love to hear that from you directly, once she comes back.”

Wyll smiled and nodded. “Once she comes back,” he repeated softly.

Supper time came and went, and the others were still gone. You prepared their tents and set aside a portion of cheese and cold cuts for them in case you were asleep when they returned. As you were cleaning up after the evening meal, you felt a sharp sting to your seal, one you hadn’t felt since…

Oh no. “Wyll!”

He came to you just as Mizora appeared, rising from a hellish portal in the ground, along with two other devils. She gave him an ultimatum, and with you by his side, he stared at the contract, torn between freedom and family.

You grabbed his hand, letting his fear and dread wash over you. Fueling your seal with his emotions, you searched for the right way forward. Please, please help him, guide his path to the happiest possible ending.

“Wyll,” you finally whispered. 

He turned to look at you, conflicted.

“Save yourself.”

His eyebrows raised in surprise. “But… my father…”

“Yes, his father,” Mizora repeated with a mocking sneer, gaining a glare from Wyll.

“You can save your father without her help. But you can’t save yourself alone.” You squeezed his hand. “The others will help you find him, you know they can.”

Closing his eyes, his face in great pain, Wyll took a deep breath.

Please. Please take my advice.

He turned to the she-devil. “You wretch. Do it. Break the pact.” His face crumpled. “Father…”

Mizora grinned before reciting the words to break the pact, and stubbornly decided to stick around in camp as a mostly impartial observer. Setting herself up in a corner of the harbor near Wyll’s tent, she summoned a glass of wine and cast her eyes around with an arrogant sneer.

Gods, I hate that she won’t go away. You turned to Wyll. “Come with me, I have an idea.”

You guided him to the edge of the water. Taking out your dagger, you cut your palm, dripping five drops of your blood into the water.

“I learned this from a book,” you told him when he looked a bit surprised. Then you turned to stare into the surface of the water and began to sing.

Use my voice and my song

To guide my vision far, far beyond

Take my blood, a gift to thee

To unveil a sight unseen…

The blood swirled and suddenly an image appeared in the water. You were not familiar with the locations, nor the man being pushed into a metal container of some kind, but Wyll clearly recognized him.

“Father!”

The vision disappeared after a minute. You turned to him. “Do you know that place?”

Wyll shook his head. “No, but I can talk to the others. Perhaps they’ve seen something similar.” He pulled you into a hug. “Thank you,” he murmured. “You’ve given me another path.”

…grateful…anxious…guilt…

You hugged him in return. “You deserve to be free, Wyll. Don’t ever feel selfish for wanting that.”

His hold on you tightened, and you felt him tremble slightly before he took a deep breath and stepped back, his hands on your shoulders. Giving you a wan smile, he walked back with you to the campfire before heading back to his own tent.

You headed toward Astarion’s tent to heal the cut on your palm with some potion before going to sleep, but you heard your alarm bell chime on your belt. Hurrying to the entryway instead, you realized that it wasn’t the others.

“Who… who are you?”

A tiefling woman and a human man, their eyes glowing red, walked down the path towards you. You knew the signs now, so you could tell right away.

Vampire spawn.

You backtracked as you tried to head back to where everyone else was, but you stumbled over your feet in your panic. In a flash, they were upon you, the man’s arm wrapped around you in a chokehold, covering your mouth to prevent you from screaming. You stomped down hard on his foot and bit into his hand, which bought you a split second of freedom before the woman pinned you down, shoving your face into the dirt.

“She smells of Astarion,” she said as she leaned over, sniffing your neck.

“If we take her, he will come to us.”

“Leave him a message.”

As you struggled futilely in the tiefling’s iron grip, the man carved letters into one of the crates nearby. Helplessly, you watched as he walked up to you, raised his fist…

Then darkness.

***

It had been a hellish day and a half. Astarion didn’t expect to be playing rescuer, but here he was, helping Shadowheart bring her parents home, walking with them through the lower city to the harbor where their camp was.

Where she was. His mind wandered, imagining her smile at his return, his worried look as she fussed over him, her gentle touch as she washed and brushed his hair. He wanted to set his little witch onto his lap and languidly sip her sweet blood and fall into a lovely trance, her scent wafting around him…

As he stepped through the entryway, he immediately saw the struggle in the dirt, his witch’s footsteps, and the footprints of two others.

Oh fuck no. Nobody takes what is MINE.

“You all you better come see this,” Karlach said, standing next to a crate.

His stomach dropped as he came closer. The poorly carved message was as bright as day.

‘WE HAVE HER’

“Fuck,” he muttered. He turned to the others, scowling. “I know where she is. But we have to go in the daylight when he’s weakest.”

Shadowheart came back from settling her parents into her tent to rest. “When who is weakest?” she asked, not having caught the first part of the conversation.

“Cazador.”

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

Act III, Chapter 1 End notes: Oh no, what will happen to our dear hearth witch? We’re hurtling towards the end, six chapters to go. Let me know in the comments what you think of this turn of events!

Tag List: @numblytemporary @xalphafox @avitute @stormyjane7 @kmoon21

[gunsandspaceships]

Review of Fury's Big Week tie-in. Part 3

This is a list of all the significant mistakes made in these 8 comics that Marvel Studios considers canon.

Chapter 1 Chapter 2

Chapter 3:

Coulson didn't notice that Tony broke the perimeter right in front of him

In the shots above, you can see screens that clearly show Tony in his car, having just driven from the office with a model of the "City of the Future." Below, a minute later, he's bringing it into the house. Coulson is standing right there, even exchanging a few words with Tony.

In the movie, he didn't know about it until the next day. He "was doing some stuff", and seems like not even in this house.

Small details

It's not a big deal, but it still counts: this is not what Tony was wearing in those scenes in the movie. Also, the model parts were much larger.

Natasha in Malibu during Coulson's departure

Natasha could not be there, because she FLEW TO NEW YORK WITH PEPPER, Marvel! Watch your own movies, for fox sake!

Timeline

Those who worked on these comics did not check at all how many days pass in the movie.

On page 4 we are shown Tony returning with a model of "the City of the Future", which in the movie was on the second day after his birthday. The book then tells us that the Battle at Expo took place that same night. HOW?

In the movie, Tony went to the office, picked up the model, re-discovered the element, ordered components for the accelerator, made holes in the house for it, assembled it, synthesized the element, created new armor, and in the evening flew to fight Vanko in New York. TWO days have passed. TWO.

Natasha blows up Hammer Industries

So those who came up with this want to tell us that Natasha, in order to destroy evidence of Hammer and Vanko's crimes (which is a crime in itself), simply killed/seriously wounded several police officers who arrived at the crime scene? Adding more red is a strange way to get rid of it, if you ask me.

And what about Happy?

Coulson's trip

This comic tells us that Coulson did not immediately drive from Malibu to Puente Antiguo, but stopped "on the way" at the SHIELD outpost in Roswell. Okay, maybe. But there's a small problem with this shot - the size of New Mexico. There is simply no such distance between Roswell and any other town in the state.

The actual distance from Roswell to the approximate location of the fictional town of Puente Antiguo is ~160 miles. Not to mention that Rosewell is not on the way at all.

Where did the comic book makers get 473? It's is based on the road sign from "A Funny Thing Happened On The Way To Thor's Hammer" one-shot with Coulson:

These distances don't match Roswell at all, but they perfectly match the road near Fragstaff, Arizona. Which, by the way, is on the way from Malibu to our destination.

Simply put, according to the movies, Coulson was driving from California by car and not to Roswell.

[historicrad39a]

I am currently working on a “chapter two” of sorts, but for now, here’s an interlude from the perspective of the Humans:

Previous: https://www.tumblr.com/historicrad39a/721956662022389761/1-the-raid

Interlude 1. Aftermath

HD 164922 D - 72 ly from SOL

FDS Frontier Captain’s log: June 8th, 2538

First contact had been made.

Well, it wasn’t exactly first contact per-se. Being an Alliance of two separate species required both parties have a “first contact moment” with each other, after all. But this was the first time since the combined Human-Tathrax Alliance was founded that they had encountered sentient, space-faring life other than their own.

Unlike the excitement surrounding the discovery of the Tathrax some 300 years ago, the discovery of this new civilization was a lot more solemn. After all, the first message of greeting from our new friends was 23cm metal slug slamming into the Frontier’s main fuel tank.

Of the roughly Forty-three thousand people crewing the Frontier defense fleet, some twelve and a half thousand had perished. It was a disaster. We had lost 66 ships - around 44% of their entire fleet - in the engagement. It was a devastating loss.

Despite the losses, we had, technically, won. Not a single Alien ship had escaped, all but one ship had been completely destroyed by the last-ditch ramming attack Captain Zinn had led.

The remaining ship was heavily damaged, but largely intact. This was thanks to the FDV Knockout accidentally piercing the hull early, causing the ship to vent its atmosphere, along with several of its crew members into space. The ship had been dragged back to the (now crippled) Frontier, and through some complicated “docking maneuvers” involving a blowtorch and the station’s robotic arms, access to the vessel was gained.

The first thing that stuck out was how few crew members were needed to operate craft. Human/Tathrax vessels were usually crewed by 2-300 individuals, whereas despite being nearly three times the size, the alien vessel had an estimated crew of 100 at most.

The second thing that stuck out to the salvage crew was what appeared to be a dark-red hand. Apparently, one of the crew members had survived the initial decompression, and donned an oxygen mask (or rather, something resembling one), enabling them to survive long enough to attack one of the poor sods in the salvage crew.

When all was said and done, the salvage crew managed to “rescue” five very unhappy individuals from the ship. We took them to our detention facility, but we let them keep their masks. We weren’t sure if they breathed oxygen like us or not, so we decided to play it safe, rather than risk unintentionally suffocating them.

Efforts to decode the alien language were ongoing, and while the aliens seemed to have some understanding of modern English, it wasn’t enough to get any meaningful information out of our unexpected guests. Their entire vocabulary consisted largely of terms related to negotiation. Terms like “hostage,” “surrender,” “no harm,” along with the names of various resources and numbers. It would seem that the aliens planned to attack our fleet and possibly take hostages, in order to force us to the negotiating table.

Luckily this hadn’t happened, but such a tactic was worrying. HD 164922, being on the Frontier of Human-Tathrax space, was nearly exclusively a military system. However, numerous other frontier systems were not home to just military installations. Some were tourist destinations, others had research facilities, and a select few had recently-established colonies. Had any of these systems come under attack, the aliens likely would’ve been successful in their plan.

More concerningly, we had learnt the hard way that our weapons are ineffective. The aliens had exclusively used rail guns and other slugthrowers, whereas we had used plasma and laser-based weapons. Can you blame us? This was space. Everyone knew that in space, you use lasers and plasma bolts! But unfortunately, these aliens have decided that Age of Sail-style close-range broadsides are too risky, so they cower tens of kilometers away instead. As a result, our weapons cannot pierce their armor. Tests on the remains of their warships proved that our weapons can be effective, but we have to be within 5-10km in order to have a chance to do any damage.

Along with various ship parts, recovery teams also collected some thirty or so bodies of the ships’ former crew. Their dark-red skin turns a shade blue in death. The exact mechanisms of this are unknown, but the eggheads over in the medical wing are busy working on figuring that out. They initially wanted to perform tests on our new friends in the detention wing, but I shut that down before they had the chance to become war criminals.

The most fascinating discovery by the eggheads proved our initial suspicions correct. Despite the fact they had a pair of lung-like organs, they didn’t breathe oxygen. Rather, they breathed a mixture of Hydrogen, and Uranium Hexaflouride. I wasn’t about to let the eggheads pump metric tons of uranium into my precious Frontier, nor was I going to pump boatloads of hydrogen into it either - not that we had much left - someone blew the majority of it up, after all. In the end, we settled on just making our guests some impromptu oxygen - or rather, hydrogen masks.

We forwent adding Uranium Hexaflouride to the mix, on account of being several light years from the nearest device capable of producing it. While in theory we could order a shipment of the stuff from Earth, I’d rather just ship the aliens back to Earth instead. The paperwork needed to ensure the proper treatment of our POWs would be a nightmare, so the sooner they were off my station the better.

With all of this, hopefully central command realizes we need more than beat-up old destroyers, and gives us one of those new Shōkaku-class carriers, or Kongō-class battlecruisers (courtesy of Akatsuki Shipyards). Hell, even a Casablanca-class or Constitution-class would be welcome at this point. Anything’s better than these damn Action-class corvettes. I’ll try requesting some. Worst case scenario is I get laughed at for having the gall to ask for our Navy’s newest toys. Best case is that somehow we are actually given the things. It’s worth a shot.

The Frontier Defense Fleet has always been the laughing stock of our navy - we’re stuck out here with minimal resources and rusting ships. But even that won’t stop us from trying our hardest to blast these aliens all the way to Andromeda. Bring it on E.T.! We’ll beat your asses any day of the week!

Log end.

Read the next entry here

[corleonewrites]

La Vérité

AU: Anatomy of a Fall (2023)

Vincent Renzi x Original Female Character fanfic.

Summary: Two people connected by the same past. Two lawyers. And one tangled case which brought them back together again, giving them the opportunity to sort out their feelings towards each other, no matter how painful memories are to both of them can be.

Chapter 2. Nocturne No. 8 In D Flat Major

______________________________________________________________

Underground train was running fast, taking me to my destination: to the café, which was situated in the heart of Paris, right in the Place Vendôme, to meet Vincent. Chopin’s compositions in headphones were passing my ears by without notification as memories started to pop up in my head. I didn’t want to fall into them, but I couldn’t help it just how couldn’t delete old conversation with Vincent from my messengers. It was a habit of mine to reread them from time to time, making me hurt once again.

______________________________________________________________

“Have you heard that there’s going to be teachers exchange this year, Camille?” – asked Loise, a friend of mine when we studied at Université Paris 1 Panthéon-Sorbonne.

It was the final year of master’s studies. I just turned 24 and looked forward to finish studying and start new chapter in life after my graduation. At that time, I wanted to make a pause in studies after receiving my master’s diploma and return to them to get PhD in a couple of years later.

Nothing was extraordinary in exchanging teachers and tutors, as it happened during my BA studies and I myself had one year study exchange and lived in London for final year during receiving bachelor degree.

“And I’ve heard from Estella that he’s quite handsome”, continued Loise, “She saw him in the corridor, he was asking for our lecture room.”

“Oh, please, you’re only thinking about these kinds of things when our exams and degree essays are soon”, I rolled my eyes, taking pens and notebook with student book out from my bag. Sometimes it was pissing me off when everyone was talking only about boys. And yes, sometimes I was jealous for my friends who actually was in relationships, but at that time I concentrated only on my studies.

“And she’s not the only one who thinks the same way! Helene and Annie think that he’s handsome too!”, finished Loise when the door to the lecture’s room opened and the man entered the room: slim figure in grey jacket and black turtleneck, slightly tousled grey hair, and blue-green eyes which caught my attention. I must admit that he was handsome indeed, but at that time I just sat on my desk and opened the notebook, giving to the man zero cunning affair-like attention whatsoever.

Meanwhile, almost every girl in my group, and there weren’t many of them, got all their eyes on him and I felt embarrassed because of it.

“Good morning, class”, the man said and placed his bag on the desk’s chair, “My name is Vincent Renzi and I’ll be your tutor and mentor for this whole study year of your final studies.”, Vincent said and turned to the chalkboard to write his name on it.

I wrote his name in my copybook and looked at him once again, this time paying close attention to what he was about to say to us. How good was his handwriting. I could say it definitely when I looked at the chalkboard with Vincent Renzi name on it.

“I know that we don’t have a lot of time for fooling around, because your final essays are about to be written, but because I don’t know you at all I’m offering you one task for today’s class: take a piece of paper and write a small essay about you. It can be anything you like: why did you decide to study law, what was your favourite subject at school, what’s your favourite colour, just anything”, he smiled a little when he heard how students laughed at his offer cheerfully, “And if you don’t want to write about yourself – write an essay about something you like or want to discuss. Or don’t write at all, and do what you want, but just be quiet.”, he sat on his desk, “You can take your time, you have it until lunchbreak”, Vincent finished and opened his small red notebook and started making notes.

“I’ve told you he is cute”, Loise whispered to me, smirking, but I just rolled my eyes.

“Oh, stop it, Loise, and start writing”.

______________________________________________________________

“Pyramides Station”, the voice of the underground train informed me. It was my stop.

Trying not to fall into the memories completely, I excited the underground. The street was quiet and snowy. Crossing through the traffic lights and crowds of people who were shopping gifts for Noёl, I was getting closer and closer to my final destination.

I asked myself all the time if I was sure that I wanted to take new case, believing ahead that it’d be as tough as my recent one was, when I promised myself to relax and have couple of days off before starting a new one. But at the same time some thoughts were eating me: that I would miss something very great but very emotional and life-changing if I wouldn’t agree.

This uncertainty was in the air when I finally reached the café and opened the door immediately finding a very familiar man, who was sitting in the left corner, near big windows: same slim figure, his same slightly tousled grey hair which now was covering his eyes a little as he was writing something in the small red book, a cup of black coffee was standing nearby. He heard the sound of my footsteps and raised his head up and smiled with a slightly surprised look on his face when I wanted to fall into the ground, and my legs felt like they weighed a ton.

“I’m so happy you could come, Camille”, - his voice was soft and soothing as it was when I’ve heard him for the first time, years ago.

“To be honest, I wasn’t sure that I’d be here at all”, I replied dryly and ordered the cup of coffee as the waiter approached our table, “I’m still thinking about your question and I need to know the details before I’ll make the final decision”

He paused a little, probably astonished by my reply. His gaze quickly ran from my eyes to my hands, which were lighting a cigarette in my mouth.

“Of course, I understand you”, he said and moved closer to me

“Also, I still have the question: why did you write me? You could pick someone else, your colleagues, or another student from my class if you’re this kind of a picky person”, I exhaled the smoke of my cigarette”

Vincent laughed a little, when my heart started to beat faster once again.

“But you’re one of the most successful lawyers in Paris, right? And you’re free”

“Free in what way?”

“I heard you’ve just won the hearing. Congratulations, by the way, I’ve heard it was a tough one”

I smirked “Ah, that’s what’re you talking about. I got you, Vincent. And thanks, it was indeed very hard. Anyways, we’re here not to discuss my successful work, right? What’s the case that you’re working on?”

And Vincent began his story about the tangled and strange case on which he just started to work on, when all the details were still unknown and complicated.

______________________________________________________________

“What were you writing about?”, Vincent suddenly appeared behind my back when I just finished writing my essay about law in cinema.

He picked my paper, when I raised my glance at him looking unemotional.

“You told us to write about anything we like. Here’s my essay about law in cinematography”

“She’s François Truffaut of our class”, Jean-Louis, my classmate and future co-worker said out loud and some of students started to laugh. I just turned back and gave them the look, when Vincent looked at them, then back at me with cunning glance, and placed my papers back on the table.

“Well, at least I now know that with mademoiselle Cadieux I can talk about films and she has a very good taste in them”

I looked at my tutor once again, because I wasn’t sure if he was mocking me or talking seriously, but he wasn’t laughing at all. And in that exact moment I understood that it’d be a very unforgettable final year of my master studies.

______________________________________________________________

“It sounds tricky”, I played with a spoon in my empty cup of coffee, trying to place all the information about the case in order inside my head, “It honestly looks very bad, especially with the fact that your client isn’t French. The law for foreigners is way harder and with the accusations that she has, it looks lost in advance”

The café started to be filled with people who came to have their weekend brunch or just a cup of coffee, couples and friends were laughing. Me and Vincent were still sitting at the same table near the big window. The snow just stopped.

“I know, but I’m sure that this case can be won and that she’s innocent. Well, at least she looks like one.”, sighed Vincent, finishing smoking his cigarette, “And the whole process is taking place in a town near Alps, I just got from there to take all papers and documents that I needed with me, I’m heading there tonight. So, if you make up your mind, Camille, I’ll help with you with accommodation”

“Many thanks, Vince, but I’m not a little girl, I can sort these kinds of things by myself”, it was really irritating sometimes when he was treating me like a small girl, he was always like that, “I’m not sure neither about the case nor about your client, but I love taking risks, so, I’m up for it”, and before Vincent tried to say something else, I finished, “And let’s just make it straight, I’ll help you out and this will be only work-related talks, nothing more than that”

Vincent looked straight into my eyes as he was trying to read my thoughts which were screaming for my loneliness and how much I missed him but hated him at the same time.

“You didn’t change a bit, Camille. You were always a cold-hearted strong and mysterious woman from when I saw you for the first time”, he tried to hide his little smile, but I saw it, pretending that I didn’t and smoked the rest of my cigarette.

For other people I looked serious and cold-hearted, and I tried to convinced myself the same way, and it worked really well during my work. But no one knew that sometimes I cried in the night when I couldn’t keep my emotions inside me no more. No one knew about my weakness. Not even Vincent and he was one of my closest people who I used to know.

______________________________________________________________

La Vérité masterlist

[shy-nightmare]

The Toonz Twins: Toontown Sleuths Chapter Six: Acme Dropped Dead

Summary: A murder occurred last night, and all fingers point at Roger. What was once a simple snoop job is now a case only Valiant and the Toonz twins could solve.

Credit for inspiration goes to @imaginarytoon1, author of “The Birchwood Twins: Toontown Investigators” and @its-metal-mistress, author of “Bendy and the Ink Machine: Learning How to Live”. Please check out their own wonderful content ^^!

Special Guests Tags 😊: @marinerainbow, @slashingdisneypasta, @weaselnerd, and @lastofautumn

It was around 8:45 p.m. when Eddie and Tom returned to the office. After Tom hung his hat and jacket on the coat rack, he turned to see his boss pulling down a bed from one of his shelves. “Here, you and your sister can sleep on the bed.” He spoke.

“Thanks,” Tom replied, but suddenly his stomach growled. “There ain’t no way we’re having that disgusting fast-food crap for dinner. Mind if I borrow your kitchen?” he asked.

“Sure, just don’t make a mess.”

“OK, thanks.” The Toon wolf hybrid walked up the small staircase to the kitchen counter. He pulled out three large bowls, kitchen utensils, a lodge cast iron dual handle pan, and a meatball baking tray. “How do you feel about classic Italian meatballs and spaghetti?” he called out.

The homeowner nearly dropped his bottle, gaping at him with wide eyes. “You cookin’ Italian? I barely have ground beef in my fridge!”

“I grabbed some while we were out on the road,” the young male replied, pulling out a grocery bag containing two pasta boxes and ground beef packaging to prove it. “Fast food is only as nutritional as a can of half-baked beans, and my tastebuds are still crying from touching that shit.”

Eddie thought about that for a moment, then slightly pursed his lips as if saying “Fair point”. The office was silent for the next ten minutes, save for the mashing of meat and steaming, boiling water. Until Eddie broke the silence. “So how long have you kids been traveling?”

“A couple of days,” Tom answered, stirring the wooden spoon around the pasta pan while checking on his phone for the meatball timer. He still hasn’t managed to reach out to the rest of his family. Fuck, they’re going to be pissed.

Tom continued, “It was cumbersome to find an easy ride operated by folks who wouldn’t try to overcharge you for making ‘modifications’ or use shady tactics to increase the prices.”

“Really?” the detective asked, sounding mildly shocked that a transportation system would actually refuse to serve someone—even if they’re Toons. “Even the Chicago Union Station?”

Tom remembered that the station was built in 1925, and back in that time, Toons weren’t even allowed to get a ticket without receiving permission from their creators. Which is complete bullshit. Things did get better over the last few decades, but there’s always some jerkass loitering the Grand Halls spouting offensive comments about Toons entering the station to find their destinated trains acting all grown-up and independent.

He sighed, “Yeah.”    

With his back turned, he didn’t see the gruff investigator furrow his brows in concealed appall. His grip on the bottle slightly tightened, then he asked, “So how did you get here?”

Tom pondered for a moment, then smirked, deciding that the humor is worth it. He looked over his shoulder, holding the spoon. “You ready for this piece of news?” he grinned, “The Red Car.”

Eddie’s eyes nearly bulged. “They got Red Cars in Chicago? You got any idea how many stations you gotta stop at?”

“It was a long road trip, but it’s worth it. And it’s our first job out-of-state,” Tom shrugged, chuckling. He turned back to the stove after hearing the timers go off, gently pouring the pasta in the drainer before he opened the oven lid and pulled out the meatball tray, releasing a delicious aroma of cooked, sizzled meat. He spent the next few minutes pouring Old World Style meat sauce and adding just a pinch inhaled and grinned, “Mmm! I hope you’re hungry because my meatballs are motherfu—”   

“Uh-oh, I smell meatballs!”

Eddie and Tom turned to see Twyla opening the office door and walking in. Her little nose twitched, “Damn, Tommy, you could’ve told me we were having Italian for dinner! I would’ve been here faster.”

“Yeah, well, you know the rule, sis. When Tommy’s in the kitchen…” he grinned widely.

“Stay the fuck out!” Twyla finished, earning her a wide-eyed look of surprise from Eddie.

“Whoa!” he exclaimed incredulously, but he wasn’t offended. “Did you teach her that?”

“We’re from Chicago, what did you expect?” Tom snickered, washing his hands before he walked over and greeted his sister with a hug. Then, he whispered. “Did you find her?”

Twyla shook her head apologetically. “I couldn’t find Roger, either.”

“It’s all right,” the pack leader patted her shoulder. “I still couldn’t contact the others, either.”

He sighed, then brightened his demeanor while heading back to the kitchen to fill up Eddie’s bowl with mouthwatering meatballs and spaghetti. “Here you go, Valiant. A full dish of Tomasso Toonz’s capolavoro di polpette e spaghetti.”  

He placed the bowl down on Eddie’s desk. The human thanked him while setting his Jack Daniels aside, placing a napkin down on his lap and he grabbed his fork. He twirled a meatball around the noodles and took a bite.

“Well?” Tom asked.

Eddie chewed and swallowed. Then, he spoke. “It’s fuckin’ great.”

Tom laughed and pumped his fist victoriously while Twyla shook her head in amusement and took a seat at the card-playing table. She poured herself a glass of water before Tom handed her bowl and joined her for dinner. Eddie stayed at his desk while enjoying his meal, but the twins respected his space. They all ate in quiet, pleasant chatter and ate every bite of meat and noodle. When they finished dinner, Twyla helped her brother clean the dishes then headed for the bathroom to take a well-earned shower.

The chatter quieted down, and Tom enjoyed the tranquil silence while going through various WiFi networks. Still no signal, the gangster growled in soft irritation.

“Is your sister always quiet?” Eddie suddenly asked, breaking the silence. Tom put away his phone and turned to his boss, giving him his full attention. “I’ve only heard her speak a couple of times, but was she always quiet?”

“Like I said, she’s a gal with a few words.” Tom reminded him, raising a brow. “Why?”

The man cast his eyes down, then spoke. “Before I did cases with Toons, I had a couple of cases with people who had been threatened by criminals and other creeps.”

Tom’s brows furrowed, but his gaze wasn’t harsh. “You’re askin’ me why we’re really here.”

“Can’t blame me for being curious,” the older male admitted, shrugging half-heartedly. “It’s not every day you find a couple of Toon kids showin’ up at your door and asking for help with navigation.”

Tom held back his tongue. He had to admit, the guy can use his eyes even when he’s not on the job. After a long debate, he sighed. “OK, look.”

He stared at the human in the eye before speaking, “Truth is, we’ve been having some troubles back in Chicago and we’ve been sightseeing across the state to find a potential new place to crash.”

Eddie nodded, listening intently. “Any idea where you’re gonna go?”

“We’re almost there.” Tom replied half-truthfully. He didn’t fully trust Eddie in his and his family’s plans. “We just need to freshen up a little longer, then we’ll be outta here.”

The detective frowned a bit, then lightly titled his head. “Don’t get into any fights, you hear? I’m not paying for your bail if you get locked up.”

“Same to you,” Tom retorted, but that earned him a slight chuckle.

The next twenty minutes were silent like the grave, until the bathroom door opened. Twyla walked out, all clean and dry. She wore a black tank top designed with a skull crescent moon and embroidered with soft lace at the hem and matching lace-accented bottoms. Her arms were coated with an inky emblem of tattoos consisting of skulls, spider webs, bats, crescents, and stars kissing her forearms. Tom’s heart panged every time he saw them; he’d seen the horrific truths of those tattoos and remembered the dark events that occurred.

His baby sister noticed the bed, and her brother was already standing up. She raised a brow in confusion, and Tom’s heart nearly shattered. “Tom?” she spoke softly.

“Here,” he gently pulled back the covers and took the other pillow to prep. “You can sleep on the bed. I’ll take the recliner.”

Twyla only continued to stare, confused, but Tom softly insisted. He put a gentle hand on her shoulder. “It’s all right. I’ll be here with you.”

“Always?”

“Always.” He nodded, and his sister returned the nod before settling in the bed.

Tom only took a quick shower and returned, wearing a dark skull-patterned T-shirt and navy-blue pants, his scars fortunately veiled by the dim-light darkness. As he carefully placed the recliner close to his sister’s left, Tom heard a soft, barely-there chuckle. He sneakily peeked at Eddie, who was in his chair going through some photos that probably weren’t from the job.

His brown eyes lightened, but his smile dropped when he pulled up the last photo. Then, his lower lip wobbled, and tears glistened in his eyes.

Tom watched in shocked silence as he silently wept but didn’t dare let out a peep. He watched the man’s eyes look over to the other desk, and saw another name engraved on the plate.

Theodore J. Valiant.

He had a brother, Tom realized with quiet shock. He saw Eddie’s eyes steel, and took a big, almost hasty gulp of the booze to numb the pain before he fell into a drunken slumber.

Tom watched him for a moment, then turned back to his sleeping sister. She had the blankets pulled up to her shoulders, looking like she was in a cocoon, and the pillow was close enough to squish her left furry cheek. Like she did when she was a child.

The older twin wondered how far they’ve come, how many years they’ve spent hiding in the shadows, chased away by those who’ve shunned them. How many days they’ve spent at school being teased, bullied, and tormented for their troubles and species, and ignored by many teachers who witnessed the whole scene, and didn’t even spare the twins a glance. How many nights they’ve spent in the Hellhole, locking the bedroom door to keep the monster out.

Tom shook his head with steel resolve. The past is behind them now, and they’re still on the road to the bright future. He leaned over and kissed Twyla’s temple, patting her curly head. “It’s gonna be all right, baby sis. I’ll take care of everything.”

He reclined in his chair and finally succumbed to a deep, dreamless slumber.

________

Clank!

“Gyah!” Eddie’s loud, disgruntled shout bolted Tom out of his slumber. Instinctively, he whipped out his two Smith & Wesson revolvers and pointed them at a taller man who instantly held his hands up.

“Don’t move, stranger, or you’ll never move again.” He growled, his voice deep and threatening. “Who are you?”

“Easy, easy, Toonz!” Eddie got out of his seat and hastily stepped in between the two. “He’s with me!”

Tom looked back at the other man. He was lean and slender, clad in a mink grey jacket over a white dress shirt with a Diamondback-styled tie and mink grey trousers while wearing a light grey fedora. “Easy, son.” He said, “I’m not here to hurt ya.”

The wolf gave him the once-over, then sighed, and lowered his guns. He turned around and gently shook his sister. “Sis, wake up. We have company.”

Twyla’s eyelids slowly fluttered, and she got up with a groggy murmur. “Hmm?” she yawned, half-sleepily turning to the visitor’s direction. Suddenly, her purple eye shot wide awake and yanked up the covers to cover her chest with a surprised yelp.

Immediately, the sharply dressed man apologized. “I—I’m so sorry, ma’am,” he took off his hat, quickly turning around. “I didn’t mean to startle you.”

“And here you are, banging my drink.” Eddie sighed exasperatedly, ignoring the other man’s glare. “Guys, this is Lieutenant Santino. Santino, my assistants, the Toonz twins.”

“Assistants?” Santino raised a brow and give them a quick once-over, then turned to Eddie. “Gee whiz, Eddie, if you needed money so bad, why didn’t you come to me?”

Come to him? What the fuck? Tom shared an annoyed glance with his twin, who only rose a brow at the two men.

“So I took a couple of dirty pictures, so kill me.” Eddie grumbled, pouring himself another drink.

“I already got a stiff on my hands, thank you.” Santino retorted.

Stiff? All three pairs of eyes zoomed on the officer.

“Marvin Acme. The rabbit cacked him last night.”

_________

“Tom, find Baby Herman and let him know about the murder.” Eddie ordered while straightening his collar.

“Yes, sir.” Tom answered, hiding his gun in his hostler. He considered a change of wardrobe for the case, one that’s considered “professional”. He wore his signature black fedora strapped with a silver grey band, but his new outfit consisted of a black double-breasted suit jacket with sleek, matching trousers. A pitch-black tie tucked in his silver dress shirt snugly, and he wore polished black Oxfords. On his left hip, a silver chain dangled and glinted dangerously like a switchblade.

“Where should I meet you after?” he asked.

“Meet us back here when you’re finished,” Eddie replied, and the gunslinger responded with a short nod. He and Santino were about to head out when Eddie looked around. “Where’s your sister?”

A soft whistle piped up, and all three heads turned to see Twyla leaning against the doorframe.

Like Tom, she had a change of wardrobe. She wore an obsidian single-button blazer, pulling back the collars a bit to reveal a wisteria sweetheart top over sleek obsidian trousers and obsidian Cesare Paciottis adorned with beautiful, bladed swords for heels. A silver chain hung from her right hip, matching the glint of her necklace and earring. Her outfit hugged her curves snugly, outlining the frame of her voluptuous figure, and she held up her purse. She adjusted her hat and took a swan-like stroll towards the men and tilted her head as if silently asking if they’re ready to go.

“Twyla, what the fuck?” Tom demanded, his overprotective big brotherly instincts already sending him into a frenzy. “This is a murder case, not a fuckin’ Gangster’s Hideout gig!”

His sister only rolled her eyes, swept her tail up, and walked out the door. Both men watched her go, then Eddie snickered at Tom’s baffled face. “I think the lady just said you can kiss her ass.”

Santino saw the absolute murder in Tom’s eyes and decided to take the risk and save Eddie before he gets shot in the face for that comment. “Come on, Eddie.” He grabbed the shorter man by the arm and yanked him out of the office.

It was a short drive to the Acme Factory. The sun glared down harshly upon the three investigators after getting out of the car, and Twyla was relieved she was wearing her dark shades. The trio made their way to the factory, but Eddie suddenly stopped.

“Now what?” Santino grumbled.

“It’s just the closest I’ve been to Toontown in a while.” Eddie murmured. Behind him, Twyla smiled at the haven before her. Suddenly, Yosemite Sam soared out of the sky, leaving a long trail of smoke. His pants were on fire.

“Ow! Ow! My biscuits are burnin’!” shouted, running around like a jackrabbit. “Fire in the hatch! Ow! Ooh! Eee! Great horny toads, that smarts!” He found a small puddle and rested his bum down.

Twyla shook her head amusedly at the cliché act and followed the two in the warehouse. The building itself was massive, in terms of height and square feet. From what she learned at high school, Eddie and Santino, the ACME Corporation was a supply industry of running gags featuring outlandish products designed to fail at the worst possible times, and most of these products were sold for Toon-acting businesses and used for pranks. It was Marvin Acme’s kingdom of jokes, laughs, and pranks. Now the place was a shadow of its former glory, loitered with cops and detectives scavenging for clues and details.

Santino filled in Eddie and Twyla with the facts of the case on the way to the factory. The murder took place inside the factory at midnight, and Acme was found with a safe dropped on his head. All fingers point at Roger Rabbit as Acme’s murderer, which didn’t sit well with Twyla. Human deaths caused by Toons were extremely rare in the modern world, even in Chicago, but most of them were addressed as acts of self-defense in response to the horrific, intense violence bestowed upon them by humans. Murders and violent breakouts mostly occurred at alleys or in bars, but some did happen even in broad daylight.

Twyla and Tom learned long ago that Toons are very powerful creatures, no matter how they were drawn or what they exist to represent. If you fight a human, you’re bound to end up with broken bones or a black eye. But if you fight a Toon, especially one as powerful as the twins…

Well, the silver screen turns black very quickly.

She was no stranger to those crimes, and she wasn’t naïve to Toons being dangerous or committing murder. But Roger…

Something in her gut told her it couldn’t be Roger. She’s seen how he interacts with humans, and how he always smiled with no venom in his eyes even after being yelled at for messing up his lines. It’s Toon nature. If a refrigerator falls on your head, you will get birds. You cannot expect to get clonked and see stars. Impact and circumstance are two different things.

Twyla’s train of thoughts braked when she spotted a safe stuck in the center of the factory. Beneath the safe was an outline of Acme’s corpse where the safe crushed his skull. Ouch.

“Just like a Toon that dropped a safe on a guy’s head…” Santino began but trailed off when Eddie looked at him. “Sorry, Eddie. Better wait here, all right?”

Twyla’s right ear perked up, and she looked up her right to spot Jessica in a small glass-tinted room. That room was probably used for the interrogation, she thought.

“Hey, get a load of this.” An officer pulled out a Toon flat black circle from a box. “Seen one of these?” He smacked the circle and put his hand through it, and a few officers laughed.

“Hey guys!” another voice called out.

Eddie and Twyla turned around, and another detective held up a Toon wooden mallet. A spring-loaded boxing glove burst out of the mallet and nearly hit the two detectives twice. He recognized Eddie, “Didn’t you used to be Eddie Valiant?” he snickered, “Or did you change your name to Jack Daniels?”

The smaller man growled, then motioned Twyla to follow him.

One of the officers scoffed mockingly, “Lookie here, boys. He’s working with a Toon on the case. And a lady, too! I give ‘er five minutes before she breaks a nail.”

“Better give ‘er three before she breaks her heels,” another snickered, and the other men laughed.

Twyla’s posture straightened, then she slowly turned her head to the initiator officer. The dark-haired vigilante lowered her shades and sent the cop a cold icy glare with a soft, but audible growl rumbling in her throat. Their cocky grins disappeared faster than the speed of a cheetah and immediately shut their traps, turning away with their tails tucked between their legs.

Eddie gave his assistant the once-over, then slightly jerked his chin up. “Not bad.”

Twyla shrugged, giving him a small shy smirk before following him towards the safe. A man was carefully picking out some yellow flakes on the rope; it was the rope that held the safe. “What’s that?” Eddie asked.

“Paint from the rabbit’s glove,” the man responded, putting the flakes in a small zip-lock bag. Twyla silently snuck behind him and grabbed a baggie of her own with a pair of tweezers. As soon as he left, Twyla picked off some remaining traces and gently tapped him in her baggie, then she zipped it and quickly hid it inside her blazer pocket.

I’ll do a thorough inspection on this when we get back, she decided.

“Mr. Valiant?”

Both investigators turned to see Jessica. She wore a red sweetheart dress and matching heels, this time. The singer glanced at Twyla, then she looked Eddie right in the eye and slapped him across the face. “I hope you’re proud of yourself, and those pictures you took!” she exclaimed and stormed off in a dignified fury. A series of whistles came from the crowd.

Suddenly, there was a crash. One of the officers carrying a stretcher that held Acme’s body bumped into a crate, and Toon shoes started squeaking and scurrying. Twyla watched the officers struggle to put the shoes back in the crate, when all of a sudden, she heard a small buzzing noise and Eddie exclaimed in pain. She turned to see if he was all right but froze.

Standing above Eddie was a tall, skeletal man. His skin was nearly bleached of color and life, as if he were a walking corpse. He wore a peculiar ensemble of black; a long, cloak-like caped overcoat over a white dress shirt adorned by a tidy black bowtie, and his unwrinkled obsidian vest was embedded by the chain of a silver pocket watch. His long, spindly bony fingers were covered in leather black gloves. A broad-brimmed pitch-black fedora perched on his head, casting a dark foreboding shadow over his gaunt face. He wore round yellow-tinted glasses, but the intensity of his cold, soulless glare burned through the shades like the piercing gaze of a stone gargoyle. The man stood over six feet tall in height, and he pointed a skull-encrusted cane at Eddie’s hand.

As Twyla observed, the realization made her blood run cold. The man was dressed like a judge.     

[aishangotome]

Main Story Chapter 18-11: Among All of Nature (在萬物之中) | Light  and Night 光與夜之戀

Chapter 18-09

♡———♡

With ten minutes to spare before work, I pushed open the office door to find complete darkness. Instinctively, I stepped back and checked the door sign, confirming I was in the right place.

You: Did I miss a memo about a holiday today?

Just as I was about to send a message to the group chat, a trembling hand rose from a nearby desk, followed by a rustling sound.

The hand found the desk lamp switch, and with a click, the lights came on. Li Manman slowly moved her hand back and yawned, covering her mouth. Hao Shuai and Mao Ge raised their heads from between the partitions, their eyes still sleepy.

Mao Ge: I'm so tired...

Li Manman: I'm so tired...

Hao Shuai: I'm so tired...

You: How many all-nighters have you guys pulled?

Li Manman: Not many, just two. Nothing compared to Mao Ge. He not only works an extra hour every day, he practically lives here.

Li Manman: If he can keep this up until the next performance review, I think he might actually become Director Mao.

Mao Ge: I think Hao Shuai is more likely to restore his family business.

Mao Ge: He didn’t realize how many side hustles would suit him until he started looking into it.

As soon as Hao Shuai woke up, he grabbed his phone and started scrolling intently. I heard him muttering about 10 PM deadline for the outsourcing project, 8 PM night class as a temporary teaching assistant, and even 12 AM modeling shoot.

You: No wonder you’re the group’s heartthrob...

I gathered all the cups from their desks and poured a cup of coffee for each of them. The challenges remained, but as ordinary people, all we could do was try our best.

You: Alright, workaholics, let’s have a cup of coffee and get back to it.

Li Manman: I can’t do this anymore. I’m going to focus on work-life balance, and work less overall.

Mao Ge: Y/N, what about you? You’ve been rushing around lately. Did your move go smoothly?

You: It’s a long story, but not entirely smooth. At least I have a place to stay now.

Hao Shuai: What? You’re already done? You said you needed us to help you move!

You: Uh, someone else helped me, so I didn’t need you guys.

Li Manman: Oh~

Mao Ge: Oh!

Hao Shuai: Oh...

It was as if I could see different faces floating in the bubbles above their heads, but in Hao Shuai's bubble, there was a question mark.

Li Manman: Staying up late recently has drained my mental energy. I need to rest and recover.

Mao Ge: You should find a temple to pray for good luck and absorb the essence of heaven and earth.

Mao Ge: There's an obscure one, have you heard of it? Nanchan Temple in the old town.

Mao Ge: It's said to be very small, just one person, one temple, and one statue. It's sometimes open, sometimes closed, but it's especially effective!

Li Manman: Those are not even from the same system. Mao Ge, have you stayed up so late that you're confused?

Mao Ge: Why not? We should gather the strengths of all schools!

My phone vibrated. Mao Ge had already sent the address to the group chat. I took a look; it wasn't too far. There was still time to go after work.

Even when going to pray for blessings, I had to consider the distance. My heart wasn't sincere enough, but it was truly due to the pressures of life. I quickly reflected in my heart, in case I had unintentionally offended some deity.

-

In the evening, I followed the directions on my phone and walked deeper into the winding alleyways, the hustle and bustle of the old streets faintly audible all around. No wonder it was an obscure temple; this place was really hard to find.

Come to think of it, I had been to this kind of alley with Sariel before for research. The two of us chased a puppy for our notebooks and then were chased in turn by the vengeful little dog. Thinking of this, I couldn't help but laugh.

You: I haven't seen him for many days. When should I go to his house and bother him?

-

Moments later, I reached the destination shown on the navigation. In front of me was a lacquered wooden door with a plaque on the lintel, but nothing was written on it. The door was half-open, and inside, wisps of smoke curled upwards, carrying the scent of burning incense.

I slipped through the doorway. The interior was larger than I had imagined, but there was no one, not even a monk. I walked into the main hall, where the altar held not an incense burner or offerings, but a scroll.

You: What a strange temple. Where do I buy incense...?

Suddenly, a gust of wind blew, and dust from the ground got into my eyes. A bronze bell somewhere was struck, and amidst the lingering sound, I heard a snap. The cord on the scroll broke, and it unrolled and fell to the floor.

The exposed silk looked quite old, yellowed and fragile, but the roller was new, as if someone had recently remounted it and kept it carefully preserved.

There seemed to be something painted on it, the colors faded and barely discernible. I quickly bent down to pick it up, but the moment I got closer, I froze.

You: This is...!

The painting depicted a young woman with a gentle smile on her face. Even though the colors were faded, the brushstrokes were still vivid. But the problem was, the shape and arrangement of her features were almost identical to mine!

As if possessed, I unrolled the scroll a bit further and was even more surprised, speechless. The face could be said to be just similar, or a common face, but her clothes were also exactly the same as what I was wearing now!

Ancient painting style and brushwork, modern clothing, it was indescribably bizarre. Just then, I heard a soft "puff" behind me.

You: Who's there?!

I nearly jumped out of my skin and turned around to see a white-haired old man standing behind me. He was dressed in a blue-black monk's robe, and a thread-bound book lay on the ground at his feet.

Temple Keeper: It's actually true.

You: True? What's true?

Temple Keeper: This painting has finally found its destined owner.

The monk bent down and picked up the book. I heard a long sigh of relief.

Then, he walked over and gazed at the painting in my hands for a long time. I quickly offered it back to him, but he rolled it up and handed it back to me.

Temple Keeper: It has waited for generations. Since cause and effect have finally aligned, please take it with you.

You: Cause and effect aligned...? What cause, what effect?

Temple Keeper: With my limited abilities, how can I understand cause and effect? I am merely within it.

What did that mean? I was about to ask when he turned and floated away. I chased after him for a few steps, but even though he seemed to be walking slowly, I couldn't catch up.

I passed through the door, and in the blink of an eye, the blue-black figure was nowhere to be seen. I stood in the empty backyard, feeling both confused and a chill down my spine.

Who painted this painting? Why did the person in the painting look like me? Why did the painting appear here? Who was this mysterious monk? For others, these might be unsolved mysteries, but for me...

I composed myself, found a corner to sit down, and opened the scroll again. I gently placed my palm on the portrait and tried to activate my talent.

It was easier than I expected. A blurry image appeared before my eyes. Someone was painting. They wore something on their arm, and every movement made a metallic clinking sound.

Their appearance was familiar, but their face was unclear. I was unwilling to give up and tried hard to see, not noticing the faint sound of tearing silk beneath my hand. The next second, the image vanished, and the silk ripped apart.

The fabric fluttered in the air, and dust filled my vision. My nose was full of smoke, and I couldn't tell if it was real or an illusion. I heard the neighing of a horse and a flash of bright light. Cast iron hooves were right in front of me!

You: !

I instinctively leaned back and fell to the ground. The hooves were raised high, but it was as if something had restrained them, and they didn't come down.

Finally, the hooves landed heavily a step away from me, and all the dust settled with a thud.

In my line of sight was cold, gleaming iron armor. A pair of hands with clearly defined knuckles were tightly gripping the reins, seemingly with great force, causing blue veins to bulge prominently.

Silver-white hair fluttered in the air, golden eyes engraved with two deep beast marks. That familiar, handsome face was stained with blood, dripping down, blending into the crimson cloak on his shoulders.

The man's gaze shifted to my face, cold as the silvery moonlight of a winter crescent moon. That name swirled on the tip of my tongue, unable to be spoken. Was I dreaming?

We stared at each other for a moment, then he seemed to come to his senses first. The murderous aura faded, replaced by a soft confusion in his eyes.

Sariel: You...

You: Sariel!

It was like this, the situation was very strange. I knew I should ask him what was going on, but my instinctive reaction was only --

Sariel looked so handsome dressed like this! Although I didn't know why he was dressed like this, the priority was to take a picture first!

I took out my phone at the fastest speed, opened the camera, and just as the shutter sound clicked, a spear shot straight towards my face.

First hooves, then a spear. As expected, you can dodge the first time, but not the fifteenth. This thought flashed through my mind, then it shut down completely. I stood there, unable to move.

Click --

The raised phone snapped in half, split perfectly down the middle. Shards flew everywhere like rain.

Sariel retracted his spear, his expression indifferent.

Sariel: I told you not to pick up things of unknown origin. They're very dangerous.

You: What danger? This is my phone!

Sariel: Phone?

He said these two words with a strange intonation, like a child learning to speak.

You: Yes, phone. Is your phone broken too?

Sariel: Broken?

You: It's broken, so it's broken. Why did you break my phone? Director, you have to compensate me for a new one.

Sariel: Director?

You: Uh, former director. I didn't know you also played cosplay.

The horse snorted softly. Sariel frowned, as if my words were upsetting him.

Sariel: Don't talk nonsense.

It was rare to hear such lines from Sariel. I became a little worried and looked him up and down.

You: Sariel, what's wrong with you today?

Sariel: I should be the one asking you. Why are you dressed like this again and running to the battlefield? Don't you know it's dangerous here?

You: Battlefield? Isn't this a temple?

We each looked around. The dust had settled, and the temple buildings were still standing. Except for a patch of grass in the courtyard that had been grazed by his horse, everything was peaceful.

A long silence. When I turned back to look at the main hall, I felt a gaze following me. I used my peripheral vision to search, but found that Sariel was looking in a completely different direction.

But I was almost certain that it was the person in front of me who was observing me.

Dressed as a general, speaking in a strange way, not recognizing me or the phone. I also calmed down and thought it through from the beginning.

Previously, the Spirit Clan elder mentioned a method that could disguise someone as another person. That possibility couldn't be ruled out.

Rather, this possibility was very high. But unlike before, why was this "Sariel" dressed like this and playing along with me?

Just as I was thinking this, he seemed to have confirmed something and turned his head, staring at my face for a long time.

Sariel: I was mistaken. You... called my name as soon as you opened your mouth, making me mistake you for an acquaintance.

Sariel: May I ask, where is this?

If this was acting, it could be said to be quite superb. I clenched my sweaty palms, analyzing. Running would only arouse suspicion. Just assume for now that he wanted to gain my trust.

You: I can tell you, but you must answer a few of my questions first.

The person in front of me furrowed his brows slightly again. I had to say, he imitated his little gestures quite well.

Sariel: Speak.

You: Is your name also Sariel?

Sariel: What do you mean by 'also'?

The counter-question was also spot-on.

You: Are you a general?

He made a sound that probably represented affirmation.

You: A Spirit Clan general? With a younger sister and an older sister at home, and the elders in the clan treat you with great respect?

Sariel: Who are you?

The tip of the spear stopped in front of my forehead, and I felt a tingling sensation on the bridge of my nose.

You: Don't get worked up. Maybe we really are acquaintances. I'm just confirming.

Strange. Judging by his appearance, it didn't seem like he was acting. Although his behavior and language were somewhat different from Sariel's, that kind of demeanor couldn't be imitated.

To be safe, I asked a few more questions, and he answered them all fluently.

Identity, family, these could all be faked. I had to think of a more specific question.

You: Then... how about you tell me your birthday?

Sariel: You mean my birthdate?* Back then, no one remembered the date. Later, following human customs, it was set on August 15th.

*In chinese, the way we say "birthday" in modern day vs. back then are different, just like how language was a bit more formal back then compared to now.

August 15th. That was the date he mentioned on Ling Island, his real birthday. Not many people should know, but besides me, maybe there was also...

Sariel: Someone said that the moon is the fullest on that day, so it's a good day for reunion and celebration.

The exact same words froze me in place. These were the words I had said. That's right, he later mentioned that someone else had said this before.

Everything fit perfectly. I pondered for a long time, unable to think of anything else to ask. I raised my head and looked directly into his eyes, resolutely and self-deprecatingly.

You: One last question. Let me see your nine tails.

He was angry, thoroughly angry. I could feel it. If he had ears on his head and a tail behind him, they would have definitely exploded into several hedgehogs.

You: I'm sorry, I was just kidding!

I quickly clasped my hands together, looking at him sincerely and pretending to be pitiful. His hand holding the reins tightened and loosened, but in the end, he just turned his face away.

There was a faint blush on the tips of his ears. He seemed unaccustomed to it himself and raised his hand to cover them.

I stared at him blankly, feeling both familiar and unfamiliar, with a sense of unreality.

When all possibilities are eliminated, the one that remains, no matter how impossible, must be the truth.

This was Sariel, a Sariel from the past, who was still a general, didn't know about phones, and spoke a bit strangely.

I had fantasized many times about what I would do if I could meet the past Sariel. Now, the past Sariel was standing in front of me, within reach.

So I followed my heart's impulse and reached out my hand, only to be stopped by a cold spear. There was a sharp glint in his golden eyes.

Sariel: Are you done asking? Can you tell me where this is now?

You: Yes, yes... As for where, this is Nanchan Temple, Nanchan Temple in Guangqi City.

Sariel: Guangqi City?

The Sariel in front of me still looked confused. I looked at him with a smile and boldly said the word.

You: ...This is the future.

Sariel: Future.

He repeated it, no longer with the urgency from before. His expression calmed down, as if it wasn't the first time he had heard it.

Sariel: And who are you?

You: I'm Y/N.

This time he didn't say anything, just nodded quickly.

You: Have you heard of my name?

Sariel: No.

He jumped off his horse, his armor clinking. When the soles of his shoes touched the dirt on the ground, he tilted his head slightly, as if sensing something.

You: But I've heard of your name. I know you, General Qi.

You: A... friend of mine told me about you. He looks a lot like you.

I took a deep breath and continued on my own.

You: Maybe it was me who brought you to the future.

These words sounded a bit absurd and self-aggrandizing. Sariel probably wouldn't believe them. I had to find a way to prove it.

But unexpectedly, Sariel just stared at my face for a moment. In the time it took for the wind to pass between us, he nodded again.

Sariel: What's your purpose?

I was stunned for a moment, then I understood. Both the past and present Sariel were the same. He didn't need others to prove anything. He relied on his own observations.

You: I didn't do it on purpose. I just touched this painting, and you came out.

You: A lot of strange things have been happening to me lately.

Sariel followed my gaze to the scattered pieces of cloth on the ground. His horse seemed a bit uncomfortable in this environment, pacing restlessly. Sariel stroked its neck and turned to me.

Sariel: Send me back.

You: Huh?

Sariel: Since you summoned me to this place, shouldn't you be responsible to the end?

Sariel raised his chin slightly, with a matter-of-fact expression. Only then did I realize that there were subtle differences. The expression between his brows was more flamboyant than the current Sariel's.

You: Responsible, responsible, of course I'll be responsible. But...

I wanted to see more of the past Sariel, to talk more with him. His life was so long that even if I recounted it all, there would inevitably be omissions. It would be better for me to see it with my own eyes.

But... I looked at the dried blood on his face. He had come with the smoke of battle, and he had also mentioned the battlefield in his words. He was probably in the middle of a war, and an army couldn't lack a general.

You: Forget it. I'll try to see if I can use it to send you back.

I squatted on the ground, gathered the fragments of the painting, and tried to put them back together. It reminded me of playing jigsaw puzzles as a child, and the process was just as unsuccessful as it was back then.

An armored arm reached out, adjusted the position of two pieces, and then took a piece of cloth from my head and put it on. Now it was complete.

I coughed awkwardly, thanked him, and quickly closed my eyes, placing my hand lightly on it, just like the first time I tried.

However, this time, no matter how I tried to sense emotions or use my talent, my mind was blank, let alone opening something like a space-time portal.

You: What's going on?

I opened my eyes and met Sariel's gaze, which he hadn't yet withdrawn. His expression was focused but not urgent.

Sariel: Can't you do it?

You: It seems... it's not working...

I was a little anxious and a little ashamed.

You: I'm sorry, I'll try again. It will definitely work.

Being inexplicably summoned to the future and then inexplicably unable to return. I had been immersed in the joy of seeing the past Sariel and hadn't considered that this might not be a pleasant experience for him.

Sariel: There's no rush.

You: Huh?

Sariel: I said there's no rush.

Sariel looked at me calmly.

You: But don't you need to rush back to the battlefield?

I pointed at the armor on his body. The horse had somehow come to my side, its wet breath blowing on my hand.

Sariel: That battle is already over. I also want to see what the future she spoke of is like.

You: What did you say?

Sariel: I said, where is your residence? My horse is tired, and I'm tired too. We need to rest.

You: Residence...?

Sariel: What, are you unwilling? Then taking me to the inn in this city is also fine.

Inn? Did he mean a hotel? Imagining Sariel tying his horse at the entrance, even the most capable doorman would probably be at a loss. I couldn't help but laugh.

It was great that he wasn't in a hurry to go back. Maybe this Lucky Temple was really a bit efficacious. I raised my head.

You: Of course I'm willing. It's just that my "residence" is not quite what you imagine.

Sariel: The future naturally has many different things.

This Sariel accepted it very quickly, even seeming a bit eager to try. I had almost never seen such an expression on this face, and I suddenly felt it wasn't good for my heart.

Sariel: Let's go.

Before he finished speaking, he had already jumped onto the horse agilely. I was stunned. That's right, I hadn't figured out what to do with this horse.

Sariel: Where is your horse tied, or do you plan to ride with me?

You: No, no... The point is that in our era, people don't usually ride horses on the road.

You: And it's quite far from here to my house.

Sariel only pondered for a moment.

Sariel: There are two ways.

Sariel: One, I temporarily leave the horse here and go back to your residence with you using your method. It will find its way back later.

You: Is this what they call a horse with spiritual understanding?

You: Sounds good. What's the second way?

Sariel: Second--

He attached the spear he had been holding to the side of the horse and extended his hand to me, a faint smile on his lips.

Sariel: I'll take you on horseback. We'll run very fast.

His eyes reflected my image. The familiar world and my familiar face were all dyed golden. I couldn't help but speak.

You: How fast is 'very fast'...

Sariel: So fast that no one can see clearly, or even faster.

That's not true. No matter how fast, someone would still see clearly. Even if people couldn't see clearly, there were cameras and videos in this era. If we were captured, it might become big news.

But... what was that compared to the joy of galloping through the city? I reached out my hand, and he immediately grasped it. With a slight pull, he lifted me onto the horseback.

Sariel: Let's go.

-

I felt one of his hands clasp my back, securing me to his chest, while the other held the reins. With a neigh, the horse leaped high, soaring over the low wall.

The alleyways beside us became mere blurs. Even though there was hard armor behind me, I could still feel the wisps of warmth through the gaps, reminding me of that morning on Kunlun Mountain when we rode together.

This was Sariel, I reassured myself again and again.

Sariel: Which direction?

The blurs instantly became clear, and the sensation of flying abruptly stopped. We stood in the shadow of the alley's entrance, facing a crossroad with relatively few people.

Oh right, I forgot the most important part, the route... I wanted to take out my phone from my bag for navigation, but the moment I touched the two metal fragments, I remembered its fate.

You: My phone!

Sariel: Is that thing important?

You: Of course it's important! Whether we can find our way home depends on it.

Sariel: You don't know the way home?

Sariel looked incredulous. He didn't mean any harm, but I still felt a sense of mockery in my heart.

You: It's my first time here too!

Sariel: Can this square box hold a map?

He picked up the phone fragments and looked at them against the sunlight, seemingly very curious. I was momentarily speechless. I didn't even know where to start to explain modern communication principles to him.

You: It can indeed hold... but not in the usual sense of holding... It's a bit complicated.

Sariel: Then there's no need to explain. When I live to this era, I'll naturally know these things.

Listening to his words, I inexplicably remembered that after Sariel learned he could use emojis instead of typing, he made good use of them for a while. I turned my head and smiled mysteriously at him.

You: Yes, not only will you know, but you'll also get used to it. Not only get used to it, but you'll also get addicted to it.

Sariel: I never indulge in frivolous pursuits.

Of course you wouldn't indulge. It just makes you even more adorable. I really wanted to say that. Although they were both him, I still... missed the Sariel of this era a bit. What was he doing?

By the time we got home, it was already dark. I watched Sariel guide the horse to the fence in the backyard and couldn't help but worry about the safety of the greenery.

In the end, I still couldn't remember the exact route home. Fortunately, I remembered the general direction, and the spirit horse could recognize the same scent on me, so we didn't get lost.

The horse stopped, and Sariel untied its saddle and bridle, combing its tangled mane with his fingers.

Sariel: Salted Fish, you've worked hard.

You: I think I misheard.

You: Salted Fish?! You named your horse Salted Fish?

Sariel shook his head.

Sariel: Not me. My younger sister named it.

I had only heard Sariel mention that he had a younger sister, but I hadn't heard any specifics. I couldn't help but feel curious.

You: Your sister... has quite a personality, huh.

Sariel: Impulsive, disrespectful, unreliable, clingy, and always likes to say strange things.

Sariel: Just like what you're saying now.

He stared at me for a while.

Sariel: You two are very similar. She also mentioned the future to me.

Likes to say strange things just like me? If strange things referred to words similar to "future," then no wonder he could understand me even though I didn't speak in ancient Chinese.

But very similar... what did that mean? This Sariel seemed to be lost in thought while looking at me, his eyes unblinking. Somehow, I felt a subtle melancholy flowing from them.

You: You seem to have a good relationship with your sister.

-

He came back to his senses, neither confirming nor denying, silently turning his head to look at the furnishings in the room.

Sariel's gaze lingered on the family photo at the entrance, which showed my mother, grandmother, and me. He seemed a bit hesitant but still spoke.

Sariel: You also have a good relationship with your family.

Was this a reciprocal exchange? I couldn't help but laugh. Sariel's way of speaking was always unique.

You: Of course! Let's go inside quickly.

I took out a pair of brand-new slippers for him. Sariel put them on, still in his armor, and walked into the room with a clinking sound. His face was covered in dust, and there were red marks on his wrists from the armor rubbing against them.

You: General Qi, is your wrist alright?

Sariel glanced at the red and swollen area, unconcerned.

Sariel: This is heavy armor. It's natural to get like this after wearing it for a long time. It's no big deal.

You: Why don't you change clothes and take a... uh, a bath?

He looked around the narrow room, a doubtful expression on his face.

Sariel: There's a place to bathe here?

You: Though it's small, it has everything.

I led Sariel through the narrow hallway and into the bathroom, explaining to him what the faucet was, what shower gel was, where the cold water was, and where the hot water was.

Sariel listened silently, and I sneaked a glance at his focused and thoughtful profile. This feeling of taking care of him was quite novel.

After finishing the explanations, I came out and used my computer to send a message to the Sariel of this era. I didn't know if this time-travel incident had any effect on him, so I wanted to ask about his recent situation first.

Next, I needed to find some clothes for General Qi. My wardrobe was full of women's pajamas, and the only men's clothing I had was a sample shirt.

You: Pajamas and sleep pants... He definitely won't fit into those.

You: A dress... looks quite similar to a lower garment. Would ancient people accept it?

But... I really wanted to see Sariel wear it. After struggling internally for a while, I picked out a large nightgown and grabbed the shirt. Just then, there was a loud bang from the bathroom.

-

Something must have happened! I rushed over and just as I pushed the door open, a strong jet of water drenched me from head to toe.

I finally managed to open my eyes again. Amidst the water mist, Sariel held a metal faucet, staring blankly at the pipe spraying water outwards. He had already taken off his armor, and his inner robe was completely soaked.

Hearing the door open, he turned to look at me. I wasn't sure if it was my imagination, but for a moment, he looked embarrassed.

There were traces of the faucet being violently pulled off at the pipe's opening. This might be some kind of fate. The first time I went to Sariel's house, I fixed the faucet there, and now I had to fix my own.

You: Do you have a grudge against my things...?

Sariel: This thing is too fragile. Why don't you use a well?

You: ......

That moment of embarrassment was indeed an illusion! He was clearly very righteous and unfazed. I resignedly took the faucet and prepared to screw it back on, but I underestimated the force of the water jet, and it was instantly bounced away.

Fortunately, before it hit my forehead directly, Sariel reached out and caught it in his palm. He rubbed the connection, screwed it on the way I did. It was awkward at first, but soon it became smooth.

After fixing the faucet, he also intuitively screwed back the temperature control handle that had fallen to the side. He was indeed Sariel. As I marveled, I handed him a new towel and new clothes.

You: Luckily, the clothes I prepared for you didn't get wet. Change into them later.

Sariel accurately picked up the large nightgown.

Sariel: This is for me to wear?

You: Yes, this style is very popular here.

I put on a serious expression and nodded. But before I could finish the gesture, those golden eyes were already close. Sariel bent down slightly, meeting my gaze at the same level.

Too close, our noses were almost touching. His eyelashes were still dripping water, trickling down the corners of his tightly pressed lips. My face heated up, and I wanted to look away, but he caught my cheeks with two fingers.

You: Wha... what's wrong?

I managed to say these few words. He had taken off his armor, and the scent of smoke and dust had dissipated. Now, all I could smell was the familiar fragrance of sandalwood.

I could only look into those eyes, eyes like a small beast's, curious, inquiring, and nonchalantly invading another's territory.

Sariel: You're lying. I won't wear it.

Just as I was about to be unable to hide the sound of my heartbeat, Sariel seemed to have finally reached a conclusion. He straightened up and casually grabbed the towel to wipe his wet hair.

Was this a lie detector test? I pinched my burning earlobe and ran out without looking back. They were different, they were definitely different!

Reality also proved that this feeling was not wrong. There were many other differences. Whether it was the scene of us being in the same space, me cooking, and him helping...

Or him chopping the cutting board in half while cutting ribs, breaking half a carton of eggs while opening the refrigerator, and brushing off the cucumber with his sleeve for the third time...

-

Or perhaps it was because he refused to take off his armor, only willing to change into the new shirt underneath, and wouldn't go to the room I prepared for him, insisting on sleeping where he could see the moon...

Late at night, lying in bed, I thought about many things. Why was I able to summon him, and how could I send him back? Would he be happy during his time here?

In the end, I couldn't help but get up and go to the living room.

Moonlight shone in through the glass door, and the breathing from the sofa was very light and shallow. I stood by the wall and listened for a while. Whenever Sariel stayed over, it was usually me who fell asleep first.

Wanting to get a little closer, I had just taken a step when I heard the sound of something cutting through the air indoors. In the next instant, the cold glint of a spear was pointed directly at my throat.

You: It's me.

Sariel retracted his spear, his eyes even brighter in the darkness.

Sariel: I thought it was an enemy.

That's right, he came from an era of constant war and was in an unfamiliar environment, so it was natural for him to be vigilant and uneasy. I couldn't help but clench my palms.

You: No, there won't be any enemies here, and there's no great danger.

Sariel: I know, I can sense it from the air, but my body is not used to it yet.

He held the spear in his arms, and I pulled on the long handle, leading him to sit on the floor. I took out a bottle of plum wine from the drawer under the coffee table. This bottle of wine had been there for a long time.

You: General Qi, do you like to drink?

Sariel: I only like to drink good wine.

You: That's perfect, this is good wine. Drinking it will help you relax and sleep well.

Sariel picked up the transparent bottle, glanced at the swirling liquor inside, and then put it down.

You: You don't want to relax? Why?

Sariel: I'm not used to it.

I was stunned for a moment. Was this how all generals were? In that case... I took out two small porcelain cups, about the depth of a pinky finger.

You: Then just have a small sip?

This time Sariel nodded.

You: General Qi, can you tell me your story?

Seeing that he didn't seem willing, I quickly added.

You: I'm just curious. Ordinary people are naturally curious about the legendary experiences of a great general.

Sariel: What do you want to hear? I won't tell you about military matters.

You: Of course not military matters. How about telling me what you'll do after you go back?

Sariel: ...Fight.

You: That's it?

Sariel: That's it.

You: Do you have any other hobbies besides fighting?

Wouldn't that be a bit lonely and monotonous? I didn't ask the second half of the sentence out loud.

Sariel: Hobbies? You also say that.

You: Huh? What do you mean?

Sariel: Someone said the same thing to me. She also said that it would be lonely.

Sariel: But I really don't have any other hobbies.

He seemed to see through my heart.

Sariel opened the wine bottle for me. There were calluses on the edge of his palm, even more pronounced than now.

The question about loneliness slipped away unnoticed amidst the sound of pouring wine.

Sariel: In this era, are there still wars?

After a moment, he spoke again, asking indifferently, as if he didn't care about the answer.

You: Should I tell you?

Sariel: Forget it, don't tell me. If I want to know something, I'll see it with my own eyes.

The moonlight flowed like a river, passing over the wine cups between us, over the horse's tail swaying in the courtyard, and also over the road we took home.

Everywhere was quiet. Whether there were still wars in this era was actually a difficult question to answer, but...

You: At least now, here, this is a corner blessed by peace. You can relax a little.

Sariel looked at me, thoughtful.

Sariel: Not necessarily.

You: Why do you say that?

Sariel: At the temple, you probably mistook me for your friend, but at first, you were very wary.

Sariel: This means that someone has impersonated your friend to gain your trust before.

Sariel: So I deduce that the environment you're in is not entirely safe either.

Impressive, he could even see that. I hugged my knees to my chest and sighed in admiration.

You: It's nothing, really. Just like I said before, I tend to encounter strange things.

You: But encountering strange things doesn't necessarily mean they're bad.

Sariel: Before I go back, I can protect you.

You: Is this the protection a general offers to the people?

Sariel: Not protecting the people, what kind of general would that be?

You: Then thank you, General Qi.

I picked up the small cup on the ground and gently clinked it with the other one next to it, taking a sip first.

Chatting with him, listening to him say such things, even my own chest swelled with a sense of heroism. I placed the empty cup beside me, and Sariel refilled it with a thin layer.

Sariel: Did your friend also tell you about the Spirit Clan general and my family?

You: Mhm.

You: And the nine tails, he told me about those too.

You: He... is also a Spirit Clan member.

I was still hesitating whether to tell him about the Sariel from a thousand years later also existing here.

If I told him, would it affect the time travel? How would the person in front of me react? There were many things to consider. It might be better to explain it this way for now.

Sariel didn't ask any further questions, seeming to accept this explanation.

Sariel: Do you know about talents?

You: Talents? Of course. I'm also a talented person.

His golden eyes flickered.

You: You don't believe me?

I wanted to grab his hand but didn't dare. I could only grab a piece of his armor and try to demonstrate it to him.

You: It's like this. I touch a person or object, then concentrate and activate my talent.

Despite saying that, I didn't actually activate it.

Maybe I vaguely knew what I would see. Rather than seeing it this way, I would rather hear Sariel tell me himself one day.

You: Then, I can sense other people's emotions, and when I'm strong, I can even see their past.

You: How about that?

Sariel: Very impressive.

You: What about you? Do you still have the talent of healing?

Sariel nodded and raised his fingertip. The plants outside that had been grazed by the horse grew back a bit, looking less suspicious.

I looked at his pale profile, feeling a mix of joy and sorrow in my heart.

You: That's great. That way, you'll get injured less in battles.

Sariel's breathing hitched for a moment. The person beside him seemed to be drunk, gradually becoming less aware of his reactions, rambling on with her own words.

Her imagination about war was partly right, partly wrong. It was the kind of exaggeration and naivety that only people accustomed to peace would have.

Somehow, this brought him a sense of comfort.

After a while, she fell asleep, naturally leaning on his shoulder as if following some established rule, one hand raised and placed on his chest.

His heart was being held by someone else, heavy. Instinctively, he didn't like this.

But Sariel didn't move. He gazed at the moon in the sky. After so many years, everything had changed, but the moon was still the same moon.

His free hand picked up the porcelain cup, and Sariel took a sip from it.

It was indeed good wine.

I woke up to a sharp gust of wind. I was lying on the soft sofa, covered with a blanket. I turned my head and saw that the wine cups and bottle had been put away, arranged on the coffee table.

I rubbed my forehead and sat up. I must have fallen asleep while talking to Sariel, and he had moved me to the sofa.

-

There was a rustling sound again. I followed the sound and saw Sariel practicing with his spear in the courtyard.

The tip of his spear seemed to carry a whirlwind, swirling up the yellow leaves falling all around. Those leaves, like the dust from yesterday, floated in the air until his spear touched the ground, and they all fell down in unison.

At first, Sariel's movements were very slow. After one set, he let out a long breath, his eyes burning brightly.

Starting again, his movements became swift. The third time was like wind and fire, and by the fourth time, only the red tassels could be seen fluttering in the morning light.

After five sets, Sariel retracted his spear and stood at the original spot. There was only a circle of neat footprints on the ground. With each repetition, his steps were precise. I couldn't help but applaud. Sariel turned his head and glanced at me.

The clothes that got wet yesterday were hanging outside, now dry. Sariel flicked his spear, taking my coat down, and with another gentle flick, it landed perfectly on my shoulders.

Sariel: You're awake?

You: Hmm?

Sariel: Do people in this era all wake up late like you?

You: ... I just had a bit of wine!

Sariel smiled. His hair braid was a bit messy, with a few strands falling by his ears.

Sariel: My sister also sleeps until the afternoon when she's at home.

I had noticed it since yesterday. He always looked at me when he talked about his sister, as if I were his sister. Maybe we really did look alike.

I felt like this ancient person with good habits was implying that I was lazy. I pouted and changed the subject.

You: You're so good at spear dancing. Do you usually practice like they say in stories, waking up at the rooster's crow, training in the harsh winter and scorching summer?

Sariel was recombing his hair. Hearing me say this, he paused for a moment. But he answered quickly, as if he had heard these words many times before.

Sariel: But practicing like that will only damage your body. I only practice today because the weather is good.

-

This tone was quite willful and arrogant, but he was Sariel, he was supposed to be that proud.

After he finished speaking, he turned his back again and placed an enamel basin filled with water in front of the horse, letting it drink. The enamel basin was quite old, and it was surprising that he was able to find it.

Just then, ding-dong, the doorbell rang.

Sariel became alert and was about to raise his spear again. I quickly signaled him with my eyes to stay calm. I peeked through the peephole and saw a tall figure outside, fully armed and leisurely.

The problem was that there was also a neighborhood committee auntie with a red armband, looking at him suspiciously.

You: Charlie?!

Sariel: Fried Pear Pastry*? Is that a kind of snack here?

*This was a play on Chinese words lol. His name sounds like "fried pear pastry" if you don't know what character he uses for his name.

At some point, Sariel had walked behind me, looking at my actions with a puzzled expression.

You: No, it's my friend. His name is Charlie.

To be honest, Sariel and Charlie didn't get along well. Coupled with his armor and spear, I was really hesitant about whether to open the door or just pretend I wasn't home.

But Charlie was taking a risk to come to me. Maybe he had something important to say. Just as I thought of this, the voices outside suddenly grew louder.

Charlie: I told you, my fiancée definitely, absolutely, and without a doubt lives here.

Charlie: As her fiancé, how could I be a suspicious person?

Neighborhood Committee Auntie: Oh, just because you say you're not suspicious doesn't mean you're not. Show me your ID, and I'll leave immediately.

Charlie: I have special reasons and can't show it to you right now.

Charlie: When this period of time passes, if you still want to see it, I'll let you see it clearly.

Charlie responded to the auntie's questions with great righteousness. His words were all true, but she obviously didn't believe him.

Their voices grew louder and louder. Seeing more and more residents who had woken up early spontaneously gathering to watch, I looked up at the sky and sighed, then looked at Sariel.

You: Um, my friend might have something urgent to tell me.

You: Could you please go to the room inside for a while? I'll talk to him and be right back.

Sariel frowned.

Sariel: Since he's your friend, why can't I meet him?

Sariel: Besides, he doesn't sound quite right.

The reason why he can't be seen... After more than half a day, you should know it, right?! I ran over and drew the curtains, hiding the horse in the yard, and then pointed at his armor.

You: It's because of your attire. Wasn't I also startled when I first saw you?

You: As for Charlie, that's just his way of speaking. He's not a bad person.

Sariel seemed to consider it seriously for a while, then nodded reluctantly.

Sariel: I won't go inside, I'll just stay there.

I followed his gaze and found that he was looking at the hallway connecting the kitchen and the living room. Although it was indeed not visible from the entrance...

You: Why? That's just a hallway.

Sariel: I can see outside from there.

After saying this, he didn't say anything more and turned around, walking away with a clinking sound. What did that mean? Before I could think further, the doorbell rang again.

I quickly opened the door and pulled Charlie in. He seemed to want to turn back and give the neighborhood committee auntie an "I told you so" look, but with his face covered like that, it was obviously pointless.

Charlie: Good morning, fiancée.

Charlie was wearing his usual trench coat, a smile in his voice. He stood tall in the living room, looking around as if searching for something.

You: Morning! Wha... what's up?

Charlie: Nothing. I just heard you talking to someone outside. That voice sounded a bit familiar...

Charlie: But it must have been my imagination.

Charlie pondered for a moment, then shook his head. For some reason, I felt guilty. I didn't even dare to look at him, maintaining a smile and feeling my facial muscles twitching.

You: Um... yeah, it must have been your imagination. Is everything going well on your end? Why did you come over suddenly?

Charlie: It's going very well.

Charlie pushed his sunglasses up a bit, his purple eyes sparkling, looking me up and down.

Charlie: I just came to see if my fiancée is doing okay.

Charlie: Her phone was turned off early last night, and she didn't reply to my messages.

Ph... phone? Phone! Charlie contacted me using my phone number. Yesterday was chaotic, and I hadn't had time to get a new SIM card yet. I must have worried him. I lowered my head.

You: I'm... fine. I just went to bed early. Don't worry.

Charlie's expression became serious. He reached out his hand towards my forehead.

Charlie: Don't lie to me. Why are you sweating so much? Do you have a fever?

However, just as his palm was about to touch my forehead, there was a thud from the hallway!

Charlie: What was that sound?

You: It was nothi--!

I almost screamed but quickly coughed to cover it up. Almost simultaneously, there was a rapid knocking at the door, accompanied by an energetic voice.

Both Charlie and I focused on listening. The voice seemed to be saying, "Young Miss, are you up yet?"

It was Jesse! That's right, today was the day of my weekly meeting with Jesse! I jolted awake. Charlie listened for a while and obviously recognized it too.

Charlie: Is that your childhood sweetheart?

You: Yeah...

Charlie chuckled softly, took off his shoes naturally, walked into the living room, and spread his arms on the sofa, looking very relaxed, even more imposing than me, the owner of the house.

Charlie: Then let him in. It's quite pitiful to leave the child outside.

Charlie: Even if he wants to have some childish and meaningless arguments with me, I'll accept it.

Childish arguments can't happen just because one side wants them to. Remembering their previous elementary school-like conversation at the hospital, I couldn't help but tease him.

You: I don't think he'll argue with you anymore. He's joined a government organization now, he's mature.

Charlie: Government organization?

Unexpectedly, upon hearing these four words, Charlie immediately stood up.

Charlie: No, I don't want to run into anyone from a government organization right now.

Charlie: Fiancée, it's not that I'm afraid of him, it's a special situation.

Charlie: I'll go inside first. When you've quickly sent him away, come out again.

You: How am I supposed to quickly send him away...

The situation was changing rapidly. I watched Charlie walk towards the inner room and sighed. Halfway through my sigh, I almost choked. That direction...

You: Don't go there!

I ran over in large strides, trying to grab him, but it was too late.

-

Sariel, clad in armor and standing in the shadows, locked eyes with Charlie, who had his entire head and face covered and stood in the light.

The air instantly tensed, and the two men stared at each other without moving. After a while, Charlie lowered his head with a somewhat dejected look, lost in thought. Five seconds later, he perked up again.

Charlie: I was just thinking about where I fell short that my fiancée would hide something from me.

He extended his hand to Sariel, looking very friendly and magnanimous.

Charlie: But looking closely, maybe it's not my fault.

Charlie: After all, Director Qi, in this state, is really not presentable.

Sariel didn't take his hand, his eyes filled with hostility.

Sariel: My name is Sariel, not Director Qi. Her name is Y/N, not fiancée.

Sariel: As for being unpresentable, it's your sneaky attire that seems to have some ulterior motive.

He paused.

Sariel: ...Fried Pear Pastry?

You: It's Charlie!

I quickly reminded him in a low voice, and Charlie let out a cold laugh.

Charlie: Director Qi is quite clever. Did you buy the newly released dating skills manual?

Sariel: I don't understand what you're talking about.

The back-and-forth between them intensified, and the knocking on the door also grew louder in sync. I made a pause gesture and forcefully inserted myself between them.

You: The situation is complicated! Anyway, you two stay here for a while, I'll be right back!

-

I walked to the door, took a deep breath, and quickly opened it for Jesse.

Jesse wasn't wearing his usual Lianshan Society uniform. He looked like a tall and slender college student, his face full of anxiety. Seeing me come out, he let out a sigh of relief.

Jesse: I thought you had forgotten our appointment.

He spoke with a hint of a coquettish tone. It was a normal sentence, but thinking about the situation inside, I felt guilty again.

You: How could that be...

His green eyes were clear and bright, the worry fading away, leaving only joy. My heart softened. I couldn't bear to break his anticipation, no matter what. As for what was happening at home...

You: Um, how about we go out for a meal and stroll around the streets today, for old times' sake?

Jesse: Sure, I'll listen to you. Go change your clothes, I'll wait for you in the living room.

-

I originally wanted to leave directly to avoid any complications, but when I looked down, I saw that I was indeed wearing pajama pants. Before I could feel annoyed, Jesse had already skillfully opened the shoe cabinet and found his own pair of slippers.

I could only hope to get through these ten minutes peacefully. Thinking this, I noticed that Jesse didn't stop in the living room and continued walking towards the kitchen.

You: Where are you going?!

Jesse was startled.

Jesse: I'm going to the kitchen to get a glass of water.

Jesse: You didn't reply to my messages earlier, so I was a bit worried and walked a bit fast on the way here.

Phone again! It was all Sariel's fault for breaking it! I wanted to cry, but... this was also a good opportunity to tell him about going out later. I eagerly pushed Jesse back and settled him on the sofa.

You: Ah... I didn't see my phone, I'm sorry, Tangyuan.

You: I'll get you some water, you just sit here.

-

Jesse looked puzzled, wanting to say something but hesitating. I fled to the corner, where the two men's postures hadn't changed at all, still staring at each other.

I mouthed to them that I was going out. Sariel could understand modern language, but it seemed he couldn't read lips yet and looked a bit confused. Charlie, however, understood and took off his mask, also mouthing:

Charlie: Don't want you to go.

You: It's a pre-arranged meeting.

Sariel was still clueless, a look of anxiety gradually appearing on his face.

Seeing him like this, Charlie seemed quite pleased. He patted his chest towards me and mouthed two more sentences.

Charlie: Alright, then come back quickly.

Charlie: This person, I don't think he's quite normal. I'll keep an eye on him for you.

Sariel seemed to have reached his limit. He looked at Charlie coldly.

Sariel: If you have something to say, say it directly. Don't play riddles here.

He didn't control his volume this time. Just as I thought something was wrong, Jesse's voice came from behind.

Jesse: What are you three... doing here?

I wanted to die.

Charlie: Me? I'm visiting my fiancée. What's the problem?

Charlie: You should be asking what this Director Qi is doing here, talking nonsense and playing dumb.

Sariel: Explain clearly, what is a 'fiancée'?

Charlie: You're still saying you're not playing dumb. Fine, I don't mind explaining it to you.

Charlie: A fiancée is someone who will marry me in the future and spend their life with me.

The spear tip pressed against Charlie's neck.

Sariel: Show some respect. Apologize to her.

Charlie wasn't afraid at all. His eyes darkened, and his expression turned gloomy.

Charlie: What right do you have to say that? What does her matter have to do with you?

Sariel paused for a moment, then spoke very frankly.

Sariel: She is my younger sister.

These four words were spoken with great force. A hint of alertness flashed in Jesse's eyes, and Charlie snorted coldly. I wished I could bury my head in the ground. Only Sariel remained calm and composed.

Charlie: Younger sister?

Charlie: Fiancée, did you hear that? Is this something a man with a sense of conviction should say?

Charlie reached out and grabbed the spearhead that was close at hand. Although the weapon was sharp, there seemed to be a transparent barrier between it and his palm. Sparks flew for a moment, and a creaking friction sound arose.

Sariel didn't speak, only the mark in his pupils deepened. The floor beneath our feet seemed to surge and spread. Vaguely, I saw the shadow of nine fox tails flash behind him.

Charlie: Quite strong.

Charlie took off his sunglasses and tossed them aside. He didn't look relaxed, and there was a dark mist in his eyes. I watched as a crack appeared, starting from the floor beneath their feet, extending to the walls and then the ceiling.  

Just then, a pattern descended from the sky, turning into countless golden specks. The shadow of a formation appeared on the ground, surrounding them. And they, as if impacted by something, simultaneously withdrew their hands.

Jesse: Stop! I don't care if you fight.

Jesse: But this is the place where Y/N and I have lived for eight years. I won't allow you to destroy it.

Jesse's chest heaved. He held a talisman drawn with a red brush in his hand, his eyes firm. I gave him a grateful look, and he returned a smile, then turned to Sariel.

Jesse: You're Y/N's boss, Sariel, right?

Before Sariel could ask what "boss" meant, I quickly answered for him.

You: Yes, yes, this is my boss.

Jesse: I agree with you. Using the term "fiancée" before a relationship is truly established is very disrespectful.

Charlie seemed to not be listening at all. He hooked his finger, and the sunglasses flew back into his hand.

Jesse: But the same goes for "younger sister."

Sariel: She's younger than me, about the same age as my younger sister. Why can't I call her that?

Jesse: From a long time ago, she promised to be my older sister.

Jesse: So, she won't be anyone else's younger sister.

At first, Sariel seemed to want to understand the relationship between them, but after a moment, he frowned.

Sariel: Nonsense.

Charlie: It's rare for us to agree on something. Nonsense.

Now, it became three people glaring at each other. If this continued, there would be no end in sight. I took a deep breath, finally realizing that only by lying could I resolve this predicament.

You: Listen to me--

You: Actually, I have an urgent design task today, related to ancient costumes!

I pointed at Sariel's armor and spear.

You: Sariel is here to help me, as a part-time model, but he's a bit too into character.

As I spoke, I discreetly tugged at Sariel's clothes from behind, pleading for his cooperation. He didn't seem willing, but after thinking about something, he grunted in agreement. There was a moment of silence in the room--

Charlie: Why would you find him as a model? Is there any aspect of my physique that's inferior to his?

Jesse: Yeah, Young Miss, I'm known as a "clothes hanger" in the theater troupe.

Jesse: And I've performed in various genres of musicals. No matter what style you need to design, I can help.

Then came even more intense clamor. Sariel glanced at Jesse's hooded coat and Charlie's deliberate display of his physique.

Sariel: A pumpkin and a winter melon.

Charlie: Still better than you, a bitter melon.

Chaos ensued again. Amidst the persuasion, bickering, alliances, and breakdowns, I made a solemn promise to design a set of ancient costumes for each of them and invited them to come over for a fitting another day.

-

I noted down Charlie's desired bird pattern and Jesse's request for a Tangyuan design. As the sky grew dark, they said their goodbyes. But just as they left, a message popped up on my computer.

Jesse's SMS: Jie jie, don't work too hard. I was already happy that you planned to go out with me today even though you were so busy.

The word "sister" was underlined for emphasis.

I felt a bit guilty and was about to reply when I received another message.

Jesse's SMS: You have to make it up to me double next time.

You: ......

Ding! A different notification sound rang. The red circle on my chat app indicated a new friend request. I had a vague premonition and clicked on it.

Charlie's WeChat SMS: This is a temporary WeChat account I applied for. I'll be using it for a while. I still need more ways to contact my fiancée.

I made plans with Jesse for next time and accepted Charlie's friend request, exchanging a few messages with him to help him get the "new friend" system badge. Finally, I had some breathing room to explain things properly to Sariel.

You: Um... don't mind them, they mistook you for someone else. You and my boss, Director Qi, look very much alike.

Sariel sat beside me, watching my fingers fly across the keyboard for a long time, not seeming bored at all. He followed up on my words.

Sariel: What does "boss" mean?

You: Boss means... for example, if I'm a soldier under your command, you're my boss.

Sariel: Then what is a director? Does it mean a supervisor?

You: If you have to say it, it's a bit similar. Director is a title, similar to a general.

You: You could say that before, Director Qi was the General Qi of tailors!

Sariel: Before? Then what about the current Director Qi?

Now... I pondered how to describe leaving a job.

You: It's probably like retiring after achieving success, becoming a recluse...

You: Before leaving, he even handed over his military power to me.

After saying this, I felt a bit embarrassed, as if I was bragging. Sariel looked at me with a gentle expression in his eyes.

Sariel: Was it hard?

I shook my head vigorously.

You: Not hard. And he still came to help me when I was in trouble.

Sariel: As it should be. But if he's still going to come out of retirement, why retire in the first place?

Because... he had something more important to do. I remembered that day in the office when Sariel said he was going to figure out the effects of the degradation on him. Even now, thinking back to his emotions at that time still made my heart ache.

Later, his body seemed to have recovered. But whether he had found an explanation for his previous condition, I didn't know.

I looked at General Qi. He also had a talent. The Spirit Clan had always had talents. So in the past thousand years, had there never been similar degradation cases, leaving them helpless today?

After hesitating for a while, I still asked.

You: In your time, do Spirit Clan members degrade?

Sariel: Degrade?

Sariel pondered for a moment and shook his head.

Sariel: I haven't heard of it. What are the symptoms? Maybe it's a different term.

You: I'm not sure about the specifics, but the body becomes weak and faints.

And also... I remembered Qi She transforming into a white dragon.

You: Sometimes they also take on animal forms and become a bit irrational.

As he listened, Sariel's expression showed understanding.

Sariel: I see. You call this state degradation? We call it decline.

Sariel: It's like human aging.

Sariel: The Spirit Clan's spiritual power also gradually weakens. When the spiritual power is exhausted, it's time to pass away.

This was the first time I had heard that the Spirit Clan could also die naturally.

You: Isn't the Spirit Clan supposed to be immortal?

Sariel: It depends on the strength of their spiritual power. Those with weak spiritual power have a lifespan similar to humans. Those with strong spiritual power might be considered immortal.

You: But now, almost all Spirit Clan members are experiencing this at the same time.

I remembered the research results obtained by NOVATEN. They believed that the cause of the degradation was the disordered growth of the D factor.

Could it be that this situation existed before, but the growth cycle was very long, making the Spirit Clan's degradation seem slow and natural?

Was this rapid degradation a disease that had developed over thousands of years? Could Sariel be considered cured?

You: Then if the spiritual power recovers and these symptoms no longer appear, does that mean everything is fine?

Sariel: I haven't heard of that.

His next words buzzed in my ears.

Sariel: If too much spiritual power is consumed in a short period, it can still recover.

Sariel: Once the spiritual power declines, physical weakness is secondary, but one will definitely lose their talent completely, with no possibility of recovery.

Completely lose their talent, with no possibility of recovery.

On the day he left Wan Zhen, Sariel wanted to save the bird of paradise, but why didn't he in the end?

When he was fixing the fan blade, he clearly had the talent of healing, so why didn't he heal his own wound?

That day, the night-blooming cereus didn't bloom. Come to think of it, was it really my luck that it bloomed the first time?

He doesn't usually sweat. And the path in the mountains, there was originally a barrier, right? That's why it was so winding, but on the evening I left, it was visible from end to end.

I felt my breath quicken, more and more rapidly, until it was no longer under my control, and my vision started to darken. A hand pressed on my back, and a familiar voice sounded faintly beside me.

Sariel: Can you hear me? Breathe in.

I followed his guidance, inhaling and exhaling. My vision cleared, and the numbness in my hands and feet subsided. Trembling, I opened my computer again and clicked on the chat with Sariel. He hadn't replied.

Sariel: What's wrong?

You: I, I have a friend who hasn't been replying to my messages. I want to go to his house to check on him.

Sariel: Is it that "Director Qi"?

You: Mhm.

Sariel: The Spirit Clan member who's degrading, is it also him?

I couldn't even utter a "yes," fear and regret gripping me. I could only nod.

Sariel: I'll go with you.

You: No need, you wait for me at home, I'll--

Sariel: I'll go with you.

His hand was still on my back, conveying a firm strength, suppressing the panic in my chest.

Stay calm, think carefully. I didn't know if there would be any consequences if two people who were essentially the same met...

Sariel seemed to see through my thoughts. His tone was firm.

Sariel: He and I also have a close connection, right?

I opened my mouth, not knowing how to explain. How could I tell him that the future you was degrading and in danger?

Sariel: Just say it directly.

You: He... looks exactly like you, was also a general, is also named Sariel, and is also from the Spirit Clan.

You: He told me about his past, including his parents, older sister, and younger sister, so...

Sariel: He's the future me.

Sariel drew this conclusion, his tone calm.

Sariel: You knew there was a future you here?

Sariel: Your "friend," and the behavior of those two people, it's easy to guess.

He curled his lips into a smile.

Sariel: Do you have any masks?

You: Uh? Yes, I do.

Sariel: Give me one. If he really is me, he probably wouldn't want to see his past self.

His demeanor and words eased my tension a bit. That's right, nothing had been confirmed yet... Even if it was confirmed, I couldn't panic. I forced a smile back at him.

Sariel: What about you? Do you want to see your future self?

Sariel flicked his knuckles against my forehead, a gesture that made my nose tingle.

Sariel: You're the most inquisitive person I've ever met.

-

Once again, we rode through the city on horseback. On the way, Sariel even reminded me to get a new phone.

The scene of him taking out copper coins at the counter, and the expression on his face, I would probably never forget.

We were about to reach the present Sariel's house on the hillside. I looked at the fox mask on the person beside me.

You: It suits you quite well. I remember buying a fox mask.

Sariel: You really like foxes?

The usual Sariel definitely wouldn't ask such a question, but he asked it so naturally that I didn't know how to answer.

You: I like... I definitely like them... But the main reason is...

The design of this mask was drawn when I went to the temple fair with Sariel. After coming back, I made it out of metal as a souvenir.

It's said to be in the shape of a fox, but it's not entirely so. If someone who didn't know the story saw it, they might not even recognize it.

Because the prototype I based it on was simply Sariel. Him in his fox form, him in his human form, both are him, yet not entirely him. So I took some features from each and combined them.

But of course, even without such craftsmanship, when various animal-shaped accessories were presented to me, I easily favored foxes.

This was really too difficult to explain. I could only reply to him in the simplest way.

You: Alright, I admit I just like foxes!

-

As we spoke, we had already arrived. I knocked on the door, but there was no response from inside. So, out of habit, I squatted down, moved a flower pot by the door, and retrieved a key from underneath.

When I opened the door, General Qi was standing behind me, so I missed the expression on his face. It was a rare expression, both joyful and nostalgic.

After entering the house, I looked around. The rooms, the yard, and even the studio were all empty. Even the little lizard was gone.

When I turned back, I found Sariel standing next to a plant - it was the bird of paradise that had been transplanted to the yard.

Sariel: It's dying.

You: Yes, it's because of me. He didn't use his talent to save it back then.

You: He usually doesn't like to use his talent to interfere with the life and death of plants. I thought it was the same that time.

I squatted down, supporting the drooping leaves, only to watch them fall again. Sariel reached out his hand, hovering it above my head for a moment, but didn't let it fall.

His fingertips pointed at the broken part of the plant. He hesitated for a moment, then finally lowered his hand.

Sariel: Let's wait until he recovers and let him handle it himself.

He was comforting me. Would he definitely recover? I stood up and muttered a soft "okay." Sariel looked at the bird of paradise for a while longer, then suddenly seemed to remember something.

Sariel: In your era, do Spirit Clan members still share their spiritual power with others?

You: Share with others... Does healing count?

Sariel: Yes, but there's more.

Sariel raised his hand, and a ball of light gradually condensed and took shape in his hand.

With a muffled sound, a light blue, translucent, and soft ball-shaped object landed in my hand, pulsing softly in my palm like jelly.

You: Hmm... what is this?

Sariel: Spiritual power.

You: Spiritual power actually looks like this?

Sariel: It's not naturally like this. I condensed it into this form.

I gently touched this spiritual power "ball" and felt it cling to my fingers as if it had life.

You: I've never heard of Spirit Clan members being able to turn their spiritual power into a physical form.

Sariel: Not every Spirit Clan member can do it. At least I haven't met a second one.

Why did he sound a bit smug? I couldn't help but smile. I wondered if the present Sariel could do it.

Unconsciously, I squeezed the ball of spiritual power into a square shape and even pinched out two fox ears.

You: It's so malleable...

My hand froze. The DEA component report flashed through my mind again. Both the D and A factors were extracted from spiritual power through experiments.

At that time, I didn't understand. Spiritual power was such an intangible thing, how could anything be further extracted from it?

But Sariel could turn spiritual power into a physical form. If there was someone within NOVATEN who also possessed such a skill, using spiritual power for experiments wouldn't be difficult.

NOVATEN didn't record any experiments on the A factor, perhaps because it was too specific and had no effect on humans.

But what about the Spirit Clan? From the report, degradation was the result of an imbalance between the two factors. If the A factor in a Spirit Clan member's body also increased accordingly, could it counteract the D factor and prevent degradation?

You: If the A factor increases...

Sariel: Factor?

You: Yes, it's the research result on spiritual power in this era.

I translated the terminology as best as I could and told Sariel all the information I knew so far, hoping he could try to relate it to the ancient situation and discover something.

You: But this thing that increases spiritual power, the A factor, is different for every Spirit Clan member.

Sariel: That is to say, even if spiritual power is shared with others, it can only provide temporary relief.

Sariel: The recipient's body needs to have this substance to continuously generate spiritual power.

I nodded. He summarized it well.

I don't know if it was the movement that triggered my neck, but I felt a wave of dizziness. The spiritual power ball in my hand fell to the ground. I squatted down to pick it up but almost fell over.

Sariel grabbed my arm, steadying my swaying body.

Sariel: What's wrong?

You: I suddenly feel a bit dizzy, it's okay.

Was it like low blood sugar? I lowered my head to regulate my breathing.

Sariel: His A factor and mine should be the same, right?

I looked at him. He seemed to have briefly closed his eyes just now, and now his bright golden eyes were slowly opening. I hesitated.

You: The same, yes... they should be the same.

This answer satisfied him. His slender fingertips were entwined with faint blue mist. I suddenly had a premonition--

Sariel: If I share this substance with him, his degradation can at least be temporarily stopped.

The premonition came true. Sariel spoke calmly and matter-of-factly, as if saying there was only one moon and one sun in the sky. I stared at him blankly.

You: Wait a minute, that's not right...

☼ Light: Worry about the damage/consequences to him.

☾ Night: We don't know how to extract it.

☼ Light: Worry about the damage/consequences to him.

Sariel: What's not right?

You: Th-this is very uncertain. After sharing a part, we don't know if your A factor can regenerate.

You: The information I've seen is limited, and we don't know the specific techniques.

You: What if it causes harm to you...

My voice grew smaller as I spoke. The person who successfully extracted the factor was Zha Zhao Peng. He was ruthless and wouldn't hesitate even if the extraction process was harmful to the Spirit Clan. His success didn't guarantee anything.

Of course, I had thought that they were the same person, possessing the same A factor. But there were still so many uncertainties, I couldn't make such a request. The mist around Sariel's fingertips dissipated.

Sariel: My intuition tells me this is what I should do.

You: Intuition... How can such a big decision be based on intuition?

Sariel: It has saved me many times on the battlefield. It will be useful this time too.

Sariel: Trust me.

Trust him. Once these two words were spoken by Sariel, I became helpless.

He said his intuition told him to do this, but as he looked at me, besides intuition, there was clearly something else in his eyes. I slowly nodded.

☾ Night: We don't know how to extract it.

You: It can't be separated.

Sariel: Why?

You: I... I don't know how to extract the A substance either. Logically, it should be inside this ball you created.

Sariel was taken aback, looking at me with confusion, his face practically screaming, "What's wrong with that?"

Sariel: Then let's start figuring it out from now on.

-

My mind was made up, so all that remained was to find a way. It was almost certain that asking NOVATEN for the extraction technology would not end well. I sat on the sofa, pondering.

Sariel was gazing at the porcelain tea set on the table, seemingly wanting to touch it, but he held back. I couldn't help but smile, picking up the teapot to offer it to him, only to find a square-folded note tucked beneath it.

Qi She's Note: Sis, Lao Qi and I are going to Lin Island, it's urgent!

You: This handwriting... is it Qi She's? No wonder he hasn't responded to my messages, did something happen...?

This thought made me anxious. Lin Island has Man Lou and the medicine to stop degradation, did they discover Factor A? Or even if they haven't, could they find a solution based on this?

It was worth a try, and besides, Modern day Sariel was there now. I put the note away and turned to General Qi, who was studying the ink-wash plum blossom painted on the teapot.

You: Let's go to Lin Island.

Sariel: Where is Lin Island?

You: An island where the Spirit race lives, haven't you heard of it?

Hearing the words "Spirit race settlement," Sariel looked a bit puzzled and then shook his head.

You: So Lin Island's history isn't that long either... Anyway, he's there now.

Sariel: Then let's go.

You: Yes!

The person beside me stood tall. Everything related to the degradation was like a tangled puzzle, and I was tired of being helpless, only able to cry and lament.

But before this, what gave me the right to say such things? It was Sariel, both past and present, who always brought me hope and the courage to speak my mind.

I stood up, feeling another wave of dizziness, my feet stumbling slightly. This time, I quickly regained my balance.

Sariel noticed this slight pause, his eyes downcast. A future filled with turmoil, a person identical to his sister... he wanted to stay longer, to see more.

But, it was no longer possible.

.

.

.

.

.

Chapter 18-13

If you’d like to support my translations, feel free to buy me a coffee here! :)

[virgo-mess]

Hey, just a little update on what to expect for Silver Bells and the remainder of Silver Thread!

First things first, I promise I'm not going to make either of them super sad, I'm not aiming to make any of us cry! I know a lot of you are worried about the breakup, but I don't think I'm going to go into too much detail surrounding the whole thing. Silver Threads epilogue will be fluffy romantic and will take place in August 1985. I will be sticking with the movie timeframe as messy as it is someone on the writing staff definitely can't math all the wiki years are a mess, lol. So, Terry and Veda officially break up the day of the tournament, which is around December 17th, 1985, I believe.

Silver Bells is taking place in December of 1995, a full 10 years after the break up and the first Christmas they get to spend together. I'm just going to do little references to the break up and maybe a flashback or two of the more important plot points, but that's it. The overall tone of Silver Bells will be a more lighthearted, rom-com type deal. Mostly because I don't really want to dwell on the ins and outs of it all. You guys have seen the movie and can understand why they most likely broke up without me telling you. But regardless of the circumstances surrounding the whole deal, I think a breakup for them was necessary. Terry and Veda's relationship is slipping into a realm of unhealthy codependency right now. They both have things they need to work on. You can't just make someone the center of your universe no matter how much you love them, and that was the tone I was aiming for in part 1 of chapter 8. Their love is real, but the reality of the situation is that Veda is just a kid who needs time to grow up, see the world, and deal with her unresolved trauma. Terry also needs time to grow and heal from all his unresolved trauma too. Right now, being together is preventing that growth and maturity from happening. They encourage each other's bad habits by blindly fixing the other's problems for them instead of only lending a supportive hand. They both need to stand on their own and fix themselves before they can be good for each other.

With that all being said, I've picked the location, and the resort Silver Bells will be taking place! Just me living out my wanderlust through Terry and Veda vicariously, lol. Our setting will be the very pretty village ski destination, Vail Colorado! And of course, I had to have them stay at the Four Seasons resort since the Beverly Willshire is a Four Seasons hotel as well 🥺. Crazy expensive, but cost isn't a problem for either of them at this point in their lives!

I'm really excited to get to this part in their story. Enjoy these pretty pictures of Vail 💙💙💙

[coffeepurpleu]

On a Sweet Night, Be My Lucky Star☆ (Teaser)

Pairing : VampireTaehyung x WitchReader x DemonJungkook

Genre: Supernatural, Smut, Angst, a little of violence,Fluff (I'll try go with all lmao)

Serie: (still don't know how many longer will be, like chapters, but I'm going to make you enjoy it),about updates (there's will be not a specific day to update, *wink).

This will be my first fanfic here, English It's not my first language, so, if you have any suggestion I'll try it🏃🏻‍♀️.

Ch01

Long ago there were fights between different types of species, each with its life partner or destiny, today, although we live comfortably, there are some types of "clans" who refuse to believe that the life partners of different species are not equal to the same (type, an elf with a troll to say). But clarifying that, being a witch, I have learned to live without a companion, I have my best friend Jin.

"Where is my omma?" I asked walking into the restaurant."Yah! You know you shouldn't talk like that" Jin mentions, I managed to dodge the incoming punch.

"Come on! It's funny anyway, it's almost 8 o'clock, are you going to close? Remember that tomorrow you will accompany me to Paris" I gave him a wink.

I usually focus on work, I'm a CEO of 5 companies, I took 2 weeks off, since Jin's birthday is coming up, and I thought I'd give us a trip.

"Yeah, just let me lock up" He mentioned taking off his apron, looking for the keys. At that, we heard the door open and saw a gray wolf. "Jin?""What-"

»»————>»»————>»»————>»»————>

"Hey, Tae wake up" Yoongi was trying to move tae to take him to the car for go to apartment they had, it was 4 o'clock in the morning in Paris after a crazy night.

"Let me sleep for a while Hyung" Taehyung snorted trying to turn over, but yoongi prevented him by carrying him on his shoulders. "Hyung comee oooon."

"There are things to do Tae" He muttered.

They were two old vampire friends, both had always dreamed of finding their mate, but to one, 2 centuries made him give up and he stopped looking everywhere, or, he was missing one. To the other, he was still trying to keep his friend with hope.

"Really, you should stop doing this, you're seriously going to kill me man" Yoongi spoke, walking down the stairs helping him to support himself.

"I'm sorry Hyung I just-" Before Tae finished speaking, Yoongi completed the sentence he always repeated. "Tired of searching, I know, you've mentioned it a thousand times" He snorted.

"And despite me mentioning it to you, you always say to end it all" Taehyung rolled his eyes "Ouch!" he hadn't come to see the punch his Hyung gave him.

"Watch your mouth brat, and you know it's not good for you to do this either, how about sometime these days you meet your destined partner?" This made Taehyung laugh, but what he didn't know was that Yoongi was partly right.

»»————>»»————>»»————>»»————>

"Are you sure we should go to another city, Hobi? I'm fine here in Venice, aren't you?" Jimin pouted slightly.

"I feel something big coming Chim" Hoseok gave his usual bright smiles.

"I don't feel anything, my god senses will be gone?" he laughed softly.

"Maybe we can go back to Paris? Dance with The Moon" Hoseok slowly approached Jimin wiggling his eyebrows, seeing the cheeks of the last mentioned red as a rose.

»»————>»»————>»»————>»»————>

Noises of trucks unloading sounded on a darkened road, voices in a whisper begged to leave the worst place anyone could find.

An unusual demon, with tattoos, piercings decorating his pointed ears, hair covering almost all of his face, the smell of blood and dirt coming from him, one horn full while the other is only half full, bruised ribs sticking out of him, chains all over his body, rusty ones slowly infecting him, suffering looked on.

"Unload this wretch" mentioned a guard as he took out a cigarette to smoke.

A well-dressed gentleman in a suit said, "Be careful, this is valuable merchandise".

Suddenly, our demon is moved to a large place, but complaints echoed between walls. A small sigh came from him, he was cowering in the large cage made for him, closing his eyes hoping at least that someone would take pity on him.

"Hey, kid, are you okay?" He heard a light voice next to him

"Y-Yes."

"What's your name? my name is Neithan" The boy smiled.

"I'm Jung-" He whispered

"Hey, assholes, no talking, take number 16" A bald gentleman said.

Jungkook watched the boy he had recently talked to being taken away. A shiver ran down his spine as he listened to the bustle behind that golden door. He had to escape from there, he used his almost last breath to devise a plan to get the hell out of there.

»»————>»»————>»»————>»»————>

"Elizabeth, what did you bring?" Flor asked excitedly. After a month of not meeting, they had to put together a crazy reunion. At Y/n's mansion, who had a pool, hot tub, a lot of rooms (where ome of them she makes art or read to calm) and his own greenhouse.

"I brought tons of candy," replied Elizabeth.

"I brought chocolate covered strawberries" Flower fluttered into the living room.

"I'll get the drinks, and fairy meat" I chuckled, approaching Flor. She opened her eyes like saucers after coming out to hide behind Elizabeth.

"Bitch!" scared Flor didn't know what to do, so she pounced on Y/N. Elizabeth just laughed at them, taking a seat on the tan couch.

Ding-Dong

"Get off me you ugly dumpster fairy!" I yelled, shoving Flor, as she kept pulling my hair.

Since neither of them could keep still, the doorbell kept ringing, Elizabeth went to open the door, finding other friends, Chaeyoung and Momo, both smiling with more food,in the distance came Celeste stumbling with the tents she had in her hands to build it with the others.

»»————>»»————>»»————>»»————>

"Get the fuck away from me motherfucker!" A shout echoed through the trees

"But I love you!" A shrill voice almost on the verge of tears was heard.

»»————>»»————>»»————>»»————>

"I know we can do this, together," he murmured softly.

"Are you sure?"

"Let's get this over with and show everyone that it's possible."

»»————>»»————>»»————>»»————>

"ey princess, free tonight?"

"Yeah, why?"

"It's for us to go out tonight."

»»————>»»————>»»————>»»————>

"Help, she's bleeding!"

"No, you can't leave me, you promised!"

word count: 974 I think

So that's about a preview, I hope you've enjoy it<3

All people have different way to write right?