#a walk around west lake

[heymeowmao]

2024.01.06 - https://weibo.com/l/wblive/p/show/1022:2321324986957909590120

[t/n: wow, so laggy.]

1:10 LYN: Today we have an outdoors stream, a little like the last one. We’ll be taking everyone out to play, today. A special outing. LYN: Xiao Fang- Fang Yilun- has arranged a very cool itinerary for us. As for what it is, let’s go find out together. FYL: It’ll be Activities for Young Folk, mostly because we’ve been cooped up in Hengdian for too long. We have to be positive! LYN: We’re headed for the big city. FYL: Yes! We’re going to celebrate your birthday as an eighteen year old should! I’ll show you how an eighteen year old in Hangzhou should spend their birthday.

2:03 - LYN asking fans not to send presents, otherwise he can’t see the comments. LYN: You don’t need to wish me a Happy Birthday, either. Today isn’t my birthday- it’s on the 8th. - FYL laughing bc he’s thinking LYN’s fans don’t know when his b-day is, probably. LYN: It’s not my birthday today, but I probably won’t have any time on the 8th, so I thought I would have my “birthday stream” today. Of course, I would like to thank weibo and all of the friends who have come to my stream today to support me. LYN: I know the presents are free, but you don’t need to send them so aggressively. C: The sound is so small. LYN: WHAT?!? Seriously? Is the sound small? C: Can’t hear clearly. LYN: You can’t hear clearly? We’re wearing mics, and you can’t hear us clearly?? What are you talking about?! Let me test it. / You should be able to hear it…? C: We can hear FYL’s but not yours. FYL: Why don’t I switch with you? LYN: No, no. / You can hear clearly now? FYL: I was thinking, maybe I should switch with you? Because I have a loud voice. LYN: It has nothing to do with how loud your voice is- I have a loud one, too. - adjusting the mic position to see if that helps (it doesn’t).

4:20 LYN: Another thing- I just want to say. We just want to relax and wander around today, so if you figure out where we are, please don’t come to find us. Okay? Thank you. PLEASE don’t come to find us. If that happens, and we get surrounded we’re probably not going to able to stream and we’ll leave. Because these are public spaces, okay? Promise me. If you know where we are, please don’t come to find us. You’ll take cars by the droves and then come surround us like you’re watching monkeys in a zoo. That’s uncomfortable. Okay? I really hope you can let us have a smooth stream today. We have a lot of things planned, so we’ll probably stream into the night and through to midnight. FYL: Let us have our together time with just the two of us. LYN: Right, of course. But we’re also spending our time together with you in the stream.

5:15 LYN: Let’s go, then! FYL: We’re off. - masking up & LYN tells FYL he doesn’t have to have the camera on him while he does that. FYL: Okay, then I can only let you reluctantly see me. C: How handsome! FYL: Are you talking about him or me? FYL: !! Wait, what should we call each other when we’re out there? How about you call me Shisan? LYN: No, it’s ok. Anything’s fine. FYL: Just call you by your given name?? LYN: No, just like “Hey!”

6:30 - hallway FYL: I’m not that familiar with these parts anymore, but if it were 20 years ago- FYL: 20 years ago, I was really familiar with these parts. Because my dad used to be in the clothing business-foreign trade, so after my dad got off work he would pick me up from elementary school and we’d wander around here.

7:10 - elevator LYN: If the sound continues to be low, later we’ll just stop using the mics. We’ll just use the phone’s audio input. FYL: /looking at their reflection in the mirrors/ Wow, we’re so fashionable! We look like some sort of duo.

8:00 LYN: We’re heading directly there? To our first destination? FYL: Straight there. LYN: Is it a far walk? FYL: Not too far. 300+ meters. Do you think that’s far? LYN: No, it’s okay. FYL: If you think it’s far, we can also take a car there. XD - discussing methods of transportation

8:27 FYL: There are quite a lot of people by West Lake today. I was really afraid that it would be raining when you came, today. If it were raining, we’d be under an umbrella… then we can visit the Broken Bridge. [t/n: known for the love story between Xu Xian and the White Snake]

8:47 - still trying to troubleshoot the audio FYL: I still think I should switch with you. LYN: There’s no need. I’m closer to it than you are. FYL: No, it’s okay. - /switched mics/ FYL: Ask them how it is, now. Because I have a naturally loud voice, anyway. LYN: How is it now? Is it okay? / /to FYL/ You try. FYL: Hello, hello. 1, 2, 3. 1, 2, 3. LYN: Is it okay now? Ok. LYN: I’m sorry. As a singer, I can’t believe I’m not louder than an actor.

9:46 LYN: See. Earlier you said that there are a lot of people by West Lake, and now everyone knows we’re in Hangzhou. FYL: Oh no! LYN: It’s okay. It doesn’t make a difference.

10:48 LYN: It’s normal that it’s lagging. That’s the charm of a livestream. The charm is that it will lag. It’s random like that. LYN: Wow, there are really a lot of people. LYN: /seeing a comment/ You can’t hear Xiao Fang anymore? /deep sigh/ See. These things aren’t very reliable. FYL: Oh. Here- there are two... squirrels? LYN: Oh!! I see them. FYL: There, there! LYN: I see them! FYL: People will come to feed them.

- FYL listing all the things they could do, if they had more time. 12:44 LYN: Someone asked an embarrassing question: The two of you are walking along and no one has recognized you? LYN: No, it’s normal that they can’t. We’re not some big/very popular celebrities or anything. We’re just average. It’s not important. It’s better that they DON’T recognize us. - psa: please don’t come to find them - discussing where to go

C: I can tell that you’re handsome guys at a glance! LYN: No, no. He’s very handsome, but in real life I am very basic. FYL: Wow! If you say that, I’m gonna get cyber-bullied!! LYN: Pu Xin Nan. The “most trustworthy man in all the world.” (普天之下最适合信任的男人) FYL: The “most confident man in all the world.” (普天之下最有信心的男人) LYN: Yes! That’s also right.

14:20 - looking into how/where to buy tickets for the ferry 14:48 - lyn showing us all the people

14:57 FYL: You probably don’t have these in the North, right? LYN: What? FYL: They’re like… those insects that make noise? Guoguo (katydid)? LYN: Ququ (fighting cricket)? FYL: No, not ququ. LYN: Then, probably guoguo. FYL: Right- the ones that chirp. When I was little there were a lot of those around. And people selling flashlights and lanterns. I loved playing with those and had a row of them in my house.

LYN: The first time I came to Hangzhou it was the year I participated in Super Boy. FYL: In Hangzhou? LYN: Yeah. Me, from Dongbei, attended Super Boy in Hangzhou. But I didn’t even pass the auditions. FYL: No way. LYN. Yeah. Then I was pretty down and came around West Lake to wander.  FYL: Is it because the pool in Dongbei was too poor and you couldn’t prove yourself? LYN: No, it was because they’re too good! There’s the Shenyang Music Academy, there; and various music schools. But then when I got here I found out that the music academies here are even more impressive.

15:52 - got distracted by more squirrels and decides to show the stream bc he feels like there’s no content going on. [t/n: they’re cute and fat. (or is it because they are well fed?) the tails look shorter than those of squirrels around me. :p]

17:27 - found the line for the ferry. it’s super long, with about a 30 minute wait for the next one. LYN: Let’s find some place with less people to hang out, then. LYN: For our first stop he was planning to take me on a boat ride on the lake. How romantic is that? FYL: I just didn’t expect there to be so many people. LYN: That’s probably normal. But anyway… we’ll not go boat riding this time. FYL: It used to be that there were a lot of boats docked at the side, and it would be like catching a cab to get on one. FYL: I guess we’ll have to find a bench or something. LYN: Let’s look for somewhere with less people. We’ll have a chat.18:50 - FYL recalling how there used to be aluminum boats around that you could rent and steer yourself. (the ferry is more expensive.) FYL: A friend and I came to ride a boat, and we were trying to get to the middle of the lake. Have you ever ridden in an aluminum boat? LYN: No. FYL: We used up all of our strength to row to the island in the middle, and then we couldn’t row back. It was July and the sun was huge. I could see as clear as day as my friend started “frothing at the mouth.” He looked like he was being cooked silly, and I asked him, “Are you okay? You don’t have heatstroke, do you?” He just smiled back at me, and his lips were so white. LYN: When you’re young you just have to go all out.

20:00 - still looking for a less populated area to sit and chat LYN: Don’t send us any special effects- I can’t see the comments that way. There’s nothing planned- I just wanted to take you around, since I’m usually always streaming from home. It just so happened that FYL had time, so he agreed to keep me company. LYN: If you know where we are, please don’t come to find us. Thank you. If you really come then it would become a bit more troublesome. We just want to wander around. There are other places we’d like to go, as well.

21:28 - found a place to sit! FYL: Alright, then let’s make some of Hangzhou’s specialty. LYN: What is it? West Lake Dragon Well tea? FYL: Lotus Root Powder. LYN: Lotus Root Poweder??!

21:59 - C: The two of you, please explain what you meant by “HE” (happy ending of YNGS). LYN: They finally caught us. The fans of the drama have been trying to catch us for half a month, and they’ve finally got us. They need an explanation. 

LYN: What are you up to? FYL: I’m making the lotus root powder! LYN: Oh! / I’ll get it on camera for you. This looks like the way a fashionable young person would spend their days! FYL: Young people in Hangzhou spend their birthdays just like this! / How come it’s not coming out right? LYN: They come out and drink a bowl of porridge to start? FYL: It’s lotus root powder… LYN: I- OMG, is that drinkable?? FYL: It’ll definitely be good! No problem!! Trust me. Wait for me a second. 22:50 - FYL leaves to find some tools. LYN: /picks up the cup and jiggles it/ WHAT IS THIS??? How come it looks like the mucus that you’d spit out- Is this edible?? Eurgh. LYN: I don’t think we made it right. WE probably need some sort of tool. C: You need to mix it. LYN: He went to find a pair of chopsticks. C: Use your hand. LYN: Use my hand to mix it, then down it?? 23:45 - FYL came back, and LYN’s surprised that he found any tools. FYL: /picks the cup up to mix it/ Oh? How come it become one chunk? I’m going to dumo it and try again. FYL: Give me another chance!

C: How long will you stream for, Ning-ge? LYN: We don’t have a time limit or things that we need to do. We’ll stream for as long as we want to. FYL: I think I poured too much! It’s too thick, LYN: Right, maybe less? FYL: Does anyone know how much I’m supposed to use?? LYN: Why does this seem like the sauce we make in Dongbei? I’ve really never had lotus root powder before. FYL: It’s really good! C: Use boiling water. LYN: We are. FYL: It’s hot water. How can we use cold? FYL: Do you like it thinner or thicker? LYN: I’ve never had it before! Thinner, I guess? I don’t think I could get it down if it were thicker. LYN: There’s only one cap? FYL: No, there’s another one. C: Use cold water first. LYN: It’s okay. It’s fine like this, too. It works. / They said we need to use cold water to melt it first. FYL: Really? Then I’ll try it with the next one. LYN: Give me the small cup! I can’t take this much. FYL: Shit- Oh, sorry. I  think this is so romantic! LYN: Really? FYL: Yeah, don’t you think this is really romantic? LYN: It is, it is. FYL: Isn’t this better than sitting down and spending lots of money in a restaurant? Isn’t it more romantic? LYN: I don’t think it’s to that extent. I’d rather eat something from a restaurant. I don’t want to eat this! It’s weird! FYL: Oh my goodness, I think it’s so romantic. LYN: (abt the lotus root) Maybe it’s too little? FYL: It’s too thin. LYN: It’s too thin. Add some more. FYL: /pours some more starch/ Is that too much, now? LYN: It looks okay. It has the feeling of making cornstarch slurry. It doesn’t look like yours is working. FYL: ? Exactly how much of this powder am I supposed to put?? I think I failed again! Was that cold water method they told you about correct? LYN: Looks like cold water isn’t it. FYL: I think we should have just used the hot water directly. LYN: Yeah. FYL: Let’s try again. LYN: Again? Oh, no. We wasted some more of it. 

26:32 - fourth time’s the charm? LYN: This really looks like the cornstarch slurry. FYL: That should be the correct consistency. LYN: Sorry, friends. I even told you that I used to be a cook. We can’t even figure out how to make lotus root powder correctly! FYL: Look! Once we used hot water it came together! LYN: Right. That looks right. FYL: But it’s too hot, so maybe add some cold water? LYN: Cold water…? FYL: Yeah, it’s actually just warm. LYN: Won’t that… won’t that… FYL: Make chunks? LYN: It’s okay. It should be fine.

27:14 FYL: Wow, this is the first time in my life I’m making you a meal. LYN: Thank you. LYN: Are we one-shotting it? You go first. - FYL takes a sip & dies LYN: What’s wrong? Was it too hot? - FYL recovers, pours more of the cold water into his cup. (so yeah, it was hot.) FYL: You have a little. LYN: Yeah, I’ll have some. FYL: Wow. I burnt myself to death.

27:54 - cheers FYL: Drink it slowly. - LYN takes a sip & assesses the situation going on in his mouth LYN: It’s alright. A little bit better than what I was imagining.

- /keeps looking around/ LYN: Why do I feel like we’re doing something wrong?? I feel guilty. It’s as if we stole these bowls from somewhere. FYL: Like someone else made them and set them here, and we came and stole it? LYN: We should finish it and run. - /slurps and savors (?) it/ LYN: It’s alright. Like drinking porridge. FYL: This is a bowl of lotus root by West Lake. It’s not just any normal bowl of lotus root. LYN: Right, right. It’s West Lake Lotus Root. With the name attached it sounds much more expensive. FYL: We’re not drinking Lotus Root. We’re drinking in the feeling.

28:55 LYN: You all can hear us clearly now, right? It’s working? The sound isn’t small, right? If it’s not, then- (pans the camera to FYL) Explain to us what “HE” meant. FYL: How could you throw this question to me?? I guess we should answer it, though. But weren’t YOU the one who said it was an “HE”? LYN: No, I- Did I say it?? FYL: It was you! I explained it, though. Just as “河, 河, 河, 河”. LYN: Oh, it’s all in the river?

29:40 - FYL telling LYN that there’s a street some ways over, and there’s a very famous restaurant on that street. The building above that restaurant is currently showing huge YNGS posters. LYN: Thank you, YNGS.

30:10 C: DId you cry while watching the ending? FYL: I didn’t cry when watching myself. I cried for other people, though. FYL: I saw you crying for me, and cried. I’d never felt so sorry for myself. - /slurps the last of his lotus root/ LYN: I finished. It was okay. Nice and warm, a little like drinking porridge. FYL: The weather today is not that bad, either. LYN: Yeah. It’s been a long time since I came out just to sit, too. LYN: They’re saying that your sound is small. FYL: Is it small? - /making adjustments/ LYN: It’s our first time using this equipment, so we’re not good at it yet. 31:19 - FYL gets up to start cleaning up their stuff. LYN: Look. We came out today and Xiao Fang even brought a small suitcase. A very cute and pink color.

31:49 LYN: What day is it? Saturday? FYL: I don’t know. Actors don’t remember what day of the week it is. We only know the date. 

32:35 FYL: I feel a little sad. We didn’t get to accomplish the most romantic part of my plans for today. LYN: What were you planning? FYL: A boat ride on the lake. I brought a bluetooth speaker, and we would listen to 奉上. LYN: Seriously?? FYL: We’d listen to 奉上 on top of the West Lake. LYN: Oh.. that does sound quite romantic. It’s okay- let’s find a different spot. An empty alley somewhere no one else is. We’ll put the speaker on and sit on the ground. We can still listen to 奉上 and it will be a unique romantic experience nonetheless. 

LYN: Let’s go, then. Let’s find an alley! FYL: Like thieves, in an alley? FYL: Today is the first time I’ve learned that even benign romantic can be forced. XD - finding thier way back FYL: Why don’t we just listen to it in the car? LYN: That works!

34:00 - FYL asking LYN if he knows about this certain type of grass that grows on the West Lake. LYN asks if it was the grass that was floating on top of the water? They go to look at it and LYN says- “I think that’s just plain grass.” LYN: Do you want to fish some up and try it?

34:50 LYN: We’re a pair of Exploring Streamers. FYL: I think we’d be the first to find any adventure at West Lake. LYN: I don’t think there’s anything to explore. FYL: Do you think we’d be arrested if we were to actually fish the grass from the lake? LYN: I don’t think so. They wouldn’t arrest us for pulling up a couple pieces of grass. It’s not even worth the gas money. 

35:50 LYN: ! I think we should take pictures there! FYL: There are so many boats here now! Oh, but people still have to line up. LYN: Yeah, there are a ton of people over there. LYN: Let’s take pictures in turn. Stand over there and I’ll take a picture for you. They’ll (the viewers) will take a screenshot. LYN: Stand more by the edge! We came to see the West Lake, after all. LYN: !! You still want to hold that (the pink suitcase)?! - LYN’s turn for a pic. LYN: I want the suitcase, too! Oh, but I don’t want it to look like I have a collaboration with the brand. Then, forget it. - /changes his mind and grabs the suitcase anyway./ LYN: It’s okay. We don’t want it to be obvious that it’s us. It just serves as proof that we came. 

37:50 - Making their way back and finds someone shooting for a program and instatntly turns into a tour guide, introducing Xihu. LYN: You can take a boat ride and make lotus root powder. FYL: You can find an alley to listen to 奉上. LYN: I welcome everyone to come to Xihu on travel.

38:51 FYL: Did you go around Xihu the last time you came to Hangzhou? LYN: The last time? FYL: When you came here before. LYN: I did, once. That was many years ago. Maybe… 6-7 years ago? FYL: Did you ride the boat? LYN: I didn’t. I just wandered around and then went to visit Lingyin Temple. FYL: The first time I went to Lingyin Temple, I went alone and then I was scammed. I THOUGHT the temple I had gone to was Lingyin, but apparently there are a lot of different “Lingyin” temples. My friend had ended up fooling me. They told me it was THE Lingyin Temple, and I was fool enough to believe it.

40:04 FYL: Do you see it? LYN: What? FYL: /points/ LYN: Oh my goodness! FYL: I told you, it was huge!! LYN: Can you see something lighting up this street? LYN: WOW! Seriously?!? FYL: /laughing/ I told you!! LYN: Can you see this??? The highlight of this video frame?41:13 LYN: This wasn’t planned at all. We just happened to bump into it. LYN: Nice. It looks like YNGS (production) spent a fair amount of money. LYN: We should take a picture, here. Please screengrab it for us. Thanks!

43:04 LYN: Wow, this angle is so cool. Oh- it ended. I was planning to show the glass but then it turned into the metal. - /Commenting on how it’s difficult to park by West Lake, because all the parking is usually always taken up. But also that’s good, because it means that people are taking the time to enjoy it./

44:03 LYN: Hangzhou is really quite nice, though. Since we’re in Hengdian filming for long periods of time, sometimes I want to come to Hangzhou to eat delicious foods. Shop around, then return to Hengdian. Since it’s close by. - /commenting how Hangzhou is known as a food city, but how nowadays you can find any type/region of food from anywhere./

45:06 LYN: Right now we’re on our way towards the car, and then we’ll move on to the next destination. LYN: There’s nothing planned, though this sort of counts as my b-day stream. Most people spend it in a room, but I think that’s not much different from how I usually stream. That’s why I thought I would try something different today. LYN: I won’t be streaming on the 8th- I have filming. This counts as my birthday stream, alright? Also- it’s not like I celebrate my birthday, anyway. I’m already this old, what’s there to celebrate? But since you miss me, I still thought I should stream. - /got scared by a person/

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- /heading for the car (in the underground parking)/ - in the elevator, they comment on the weather (it’s warmer than usual), and FYL says he feels like he hasn’t seen properly ever since they went out- because the breathe from inside the mask is foggin up his sunglasses XD.

47:22 FYL: Do you have a signal? LYN: Yes! 5G! LYN: Someone complimented us, calling us two Handsome Brothers. FYL: We’re alright~ LYN: Just average~ Puxin Men. X’D The “most confident men in all the world.” (普天之下最有信心的男人)

48:05 C: A handsome pair of men, even though I can’t see clearly… LYN: You can’t see clearly but you’re still complimenting?

- FYL starts the car and LYN comments that it’s so loud it sounds like a tractor, lmao.

48:53 - FYL’s Lost His Phone?!? (he goes to check in the suitcase) LYN: We lost his phone. Oh, no. This is the charm of a livestream. You never know what’s going to happen. C: You were just taking pictures with it. LYN: Right. Right! He gave me his phone to take photos with! It’s in my pocket! /checks his pockets/ FYL: Weren’t we just taking pictures with it? LYN: Yeah. What happened after? LYN: Are you serious?? FYL: There’s no way, right? - /still checking his pockets/ LYN: Why don’t you call it? FYL: That’s so strange… LYN: Yeah! After we took pictures… we didn’t stop, right? We didn’t stop to sit somewhere? FYL: We didn’t stop anywhere. LYN: Call it. FYL: “It’s currently in use.” LYN: ?? What does that mean?? FYL: ! There’s a sound! OMG, that scared me to death! It fell to the side of the seat. It’s okay though, even it I did lose it. LYN: We found it. It was to the side of the seat. Look at our handsome driver. LYN: ! Seatbelt, seatbelt. 

51:26 LYN: Friends, we were making more scenes for ourselves. We pretended the phone was missing, so that the viewers might gain a sense of- FYL: They might go to where we were and look for it?? LYN: We designed a thrilling scenario so that everyone in the stream can be worried for the lost phone. In the end! What you didn’t expect was for us to find it right beside his seat! Too thrilling. FYL: How was our acting? Not bad, right? XD

52:20 FYL: Let me ask you- for the New Year’s stage, why did you cry? On the stage. LYN: Why did I cry? Because I’m a crybaby. FYL: Were you emotional? But honestly, I saw you wearing those clothes and got emotional myself. FYL: Is that your actual costume from the drama? - gets distracted by people taking pictures of the car FYL: Do you think they’ll get a picture of my license number? LYN: Do you think an artist’s license number is a secret? -  But LYN asks viewers to please don’t take pictures of the license plate number. LYN: Oh, so you drive a Ferrari. FYL: As if- I can’t afford it. LYN: Xiao Fang could continue to work hard~ - singing along to 奉上 (sounds good!) FYL: Do you have lyrics? If I said that I can’t remember the lyrics to this song, would it (look bad)? LYN: It’s not important. - FYL harmonizes a line w/ LYN, but LYN didn’t sing that line out loud.

54:33 C: FYL is such a good person! LYN: He’s great! If he weren’t a good person, then we wouldn’t have become friends. 

55:17 FYL: That time we went through the Weibo Headquarters, right? And you sang a couple lines… (LYN: My hair is messed up!) FYL: I went home and was thinking. This song- when I heard you sing it in person- sounded quite high. So when I went woke up to shower the next day I grabbed a bluetooth speaker and tried to sing along with the chorus. I sang my voice hoarse. LYN: /laughs/ That song’s a little high for me as well.

56:40 LYN: I’m guessing- those people who were taking pictures of your car earlier? They probably didn’t know it was US. They probably just thought the car look cool. Really! Because the color is nice. FYL: That makes me sad. LYN: LOL. That the car is more welcome than you are? I don’t think those people were watching our stream, in any case. They weren’t taking pictures of us, I get the feeling they were trying to take pictures of the car. 57:28 C: What color is it? LYN: Pink. /giggles/ LYN: Why is it that FYL can play YSS? This is one of the reasons- he’s flashy enough.

58:00 - complaining about other drivers who don’t follow the rules of the road. LYN: They’re getting reported! 

58:35 - makes a comment about singing Zhang Jie’s songs (t’s hard) 58:59 FYL: But with singing, too. You have to constantly sing. It’s like working out/training your body. LYN: Ywah, you have to keep at it so that you can maintain the skill. FYL: So that’s why every now and then I have to shout my voice out. LYN: Sing every once in a while. FYL: In that case, when I’m on set in the next few days I’ll just have to- /starts singing, loudly/! LYN: If you do that, you’re gonna get hit. C: That scared me to death! LYN: Because you’re wearing the mic!! FYL: Oh! I’m sorry!! I forgot. LYN: No worries. This is also an effect of live streaming.

1:00:02 LYN: The first round was faking we lost the phone. This round is suddenly shouting and scaring you to death. 

1:00:23 - 别梦寒 FYL: This song is also really nice. LYN: This song IS nice. But it was included less, so people heard it less. I really like this song. It’s one that can be considered in the Top 3 of all OSTs I’ve sung in the past couple of years. C: What’s Number 1? FYL: That’s a good question. LYN: There is no Number 1 or 2. There’s no ranking. FYL: But at least you know what Number 3 is. C: There are a lot of new fans. LYN: Thank you.

1:01:25 LYN: Have you arranged a dinner for tonight? FYL: No. LYN: ?? You don’t have plans? You’re not going to treat me to a meal?? You called me over to Hangzhou and you’re not even going to feed me dinner? FYL: Is instant noodles okay? LYN: Okay. // You DID give me a bowl of lotus root powder for my birthday though, yes. But anything other than that? C: What’s for dinner? LYN: I don’t know. He said he didn’t have anything- instant noodles, I guess. We’ll come back around to this later. When we’re in a pinch with filming we don’t have the time to eat at all. FYL: Especially if you have to shoot night scenes. LYN: Are you going back to Hengdian tonight? FYL: /confirms/ LYN: Then, let’s go back together. 

1:02:24 C: Isn’t Hangzhou food hub? LYN: It’s because it is! There are too many good foods (so you can’t choose). FYL: When you have too many choices, the best choice is a pack of instant noodles. FYL: We’re both capricorns. So we’re more conservative. LYN: Is that so? Us two capricorns are so loud and noisy now, so what forced us to be this way? Look at what this industry did to us. FYL: What’s your rising sign? LYN: Scorpio.

1:03:05 C: Are you playing with beads? LYN: I’m not playing with them, but I’m wearing them. 

1:03:30 FYL: All of a sudden my mind has settled. It feels like I’m in a daze. LYN: That’s good. I used to like driving while listening to songs- going out to some deserted place in the middle of nowhere. I’d stop the car and just sit there. - realize they don’t have anything to drink, so they’ll stop by to grab something later 1:04:00 C: I requested time off to watch you stream. LYN: That’s not necessary! Our stream isn’t very exciting. FYL: Our stream is suited for days where you have the day off and you’re still huddled in your blankets because you haven’t thought of what you should do. LYN: Right. When you’re bored, you can play this as something to listen to, on the side. FYL: Maybe if you want to watch tv, you’d have to walk to the living room. But you don’t want to get out of bed so you can watch this on your phone. LYN: But nowadays I just use my phone to watch tv, also. My tv at home hasn’t been turned on in a long time. If I watch dramas, I’ll do it on my iPad. C: Are you talking about me? LYN: Meaning you’re doing exactly what we’re saying? You just turn on your phone and lie in bed, not wanting to get up or move? Turn on our stream and let it play as bgm? FYL: They probably just turned on their phone and have noticed that we’re streaming. C: I’m doing homework. LYN: Doing your homework while listening to our voices. Look up once in a while to give us a gander. FYL: Would they write the answers wrong? You turn your homework in tomorrow and your teacher tells you that you got everything wrong. LYN: They wrote down the lyrics to these songs, instead.

1:05:40 FYL: Do you like love songs more, or ? LYN: Everything is good. The most important thing for me is that it sounds good. There’s no exact genre that I like. I listen to rap as well. FYL: Do you have a song where you rap? LYN: Yeah. FYL: I want to hear it! 🙂 LYN: Let’s not.

1:06:15 FYL: I didn’t get to watch your stage performance with Xiao Zeng (ZXS). Did it go well, the rap? LYN: The rap went well. /starts reciting/ It was memorized by force. Xiao Fang knows this because one day the three of us- ZSX, FYL, LYN- were eating at my house. We all wrapped up early, so were having a meal at my house. ZSX was feeling a lot of pressure, and asked me if I had memorized the lyrics for the opening song. I told him I didn’t, because there would be a prompter. He said, “Ohh, is that right?” But then I thought about it and considered that actually, I SHOULD memorize it. He reminded me. So the two of us were just memorizing the lyrics. FYL: You started doing it while eating! LYN: /recites more lyrics/ FYL: Wow, I bet you were even doing it in your dreams. LYN: Yeah- we were still going through it up until the moment we had to stand on stage. I was afraid I would say them wrong. FYL: I bet when you were dreaming of it, at the sound of your alarm in the morning you’d shock yourself awake and into reciting out loud. 

1:08:00 FYL: I don’t know why, when I was younger I used to remember all the lyrics. But now I can’t. LYN: … Because we’ve heard too many songs by now? FYL: When you listen to a song, do you go out of your way to memorize the lyrics? LYN: Not particularly. If it’s my own song and I have to sing it at some event, I’ll take some time in advance to remember the lyrics. LYN: Nowadays when I sing I pretty much rely on the prompter. But you at least have to know around 70%+ of the song. FYL: Right. You can’t keep looking at it. LYN: Yes. 70% or more. You can look at the prompter every once in a while when you’re singing. If you can’t remember the lyrics you can scan the prompter ahead of time. 1:09:00 LYN: I didn’t see clearly, but I think someone said that they had a fight with their husband because you want to watch us stream? Did you really? It’s not worth it!! Stop watching. Don’t let watching two puxin-men influence your house and home. It’s not worth it. Go make it up to your husband. Stop watching. Turn it off.

1:10:00 FYL: I have to take the chance to wear my sunglasses before it gets dark. I haven’t worn them very much since I bought them. LYN: Is that so? I wear the ones you bought me sometimes when I go out for work. FYL: It’s so flashy. LYN: LOL, yeah. Because the logo is printed all over. FYL: Only “the most confident man in all the world” would dare to wear them. LYN: FYL gifted me a pair of sunglasses from a big brand- all of the design elements on the glases are actually the brand’s logo. Just in case you can’t tell where the glasses are from. FYL: But I get the feeling you can actually pull off wearing them. LYN: Why? Because I am “puxin” enough? XD FYL: You have that aura about you. LYN: No, I can’t live up to them. FYL: I just think you have more of a personality, but more introverted. LYN: Thank you. FYL: You need something bright! LYN: People rely on clothes- I have to rely on my wardrobe to find my aura. Normally I’m too basic, so I need something to help me. FYL: No, you’re not bad that to that extent. 

1:11:19 - FYL takes his hand off the wheel in excitement LYN: Please put your hands back on the wheel. FYL: Yes, right. 

1:11:30 ----- Wang Yizhe time C: Lao Qian is here. LYN: Is he? Let me see if I can connect. LYN: Apparently there are more than 2k people waiting to connect. It’s not worth it! I won’t connect with you. I sent an invite to Lao Qian. Whether he accepts or not is up to him. If it’s convenient, he’ll accept. If it’s not then he won’t. 

- /lag/

WYZ: /wearing sunglasses/ LYN: To fit in. The squad needs to have the same gear. You’re even wearing black. WYZ: No, these are my pajamas. LYN: Where are you, Beijing? WYZ: Yes, in Beijing. LYN: Right… If you were here, we’d be playing together. WYZ: What are you to up to? LYN: We’re doing a simple stream today- my “birthday” stream and it so happened that he (FYL) was off so we decided to hang out together. WYZ: Are you going to shop or…? LYN: I don’t know where he’s taking me- FYL: We’re going to where young people go to have fun. WYZ: ??? “Where young people go to have fun”?? Are you close to Hengdian? LYN: We’re in Hangzhou today. FYL: I already took everyone to our first attraction. LYN: We found some seats by West Lake and made two cups of lotus root powder. After we finished we ran. FYL: I was originally planning to ride the boat, but I don’t know why there was a really long line today. LYN: Yes- we were planning to ride on the boat. FYL: Isn’t it romantic? WYZ: If the two of you went on a boat ride wouldn’t the bridge collapse (because of all the people on it)? LYN: Let me tell you- here’s the embarrassing thing. No one recognized us. WYZ: Well, yes- that IS embarrassing. LYN: Going out wasn’t embarrassing, but since you mentioned being recognized, now it IS embarrassing. No one recognized us. FYL: I was planning to get the speaker and playing 奉上 right then and there! WYZ: Then, Lao Ning. You probably didn’t stand up. If you did you would have ben exposed in an instant. LYN: No- we were wandering around the whole time. We walked back and forth and no one recognized us. WYZ: Are people in Hangzhou all as tall as you are??? LYN: That’s why I was saying, that the two of us are puxin men. Normal/Basic (putong) and Confident (zixin). That’s why no one recognized us. WYZ: You wanted to go out a little obviously, wearing sunglasses so that people knew you were celebrities, but it ended up that no one paid attention to you. LYN: No, it was fine. Also, because I had told people in the stream not to come find us. They probably didn’t want to in the first place, but I just thought I should mention it. They were respectful of us and didn’t come. WYZ: So it’s just the two of you? LYN: Yeah, just the two of us. No sponsor or anything. WYZ: Then I guess you’ve been exposed by now. Your itinerary is going to get a lot more crowded. LYN: Don’t say that! There are two outcomes: 1. People think they need to help us save face and quickly grab a car to come make noise so that we look more popular, or 2. No one shows up at all. 

1:15:30 WYZ: How long are you planning to be out for? LYN: I don’t know. There’s not exactly a time limit. FYL: We’ll see as we go. LYN: We’ll stay out for the day and then return to Hengdian at night and continue filming tomorrow. WYZ: The main thing is because you both don’t have work today, is that right? LYN: Yeah- the crew gave us a day. He (FYL) just entered a new one. - “Dian Gong”?? [t/n: IDK what they’re referring to here] FYL: I entered the crew in December and they haven’t gotten around to my scenes yet. I’ve only shot for one day thus far. But it’s nice that I have this time. The timing was just right.  WYZ: Have the two of you eaten? LYN: I told you, we had lotus root starch. WYZ: Is that even filling?? LYN: Oh my goodness- it was so thick, like eating a bowl of thickened cornstarch. FYL: For people like us who have grown up on dew alone, a bowl of lotus root starch is enough to carry us through the whole day. WYZ: The two of you eat little on a normal basis, anyway.

1:16:45 LYN: I thought since it was my birthday I would bother him a bit, since he’s always in Hangzhou. He’s from Zhejiang. WYZ: This is his territory.  LYN: Yeah- so I thought I would ask my good friend to take me out to eat well. In the end I came here and he dragged me to West Lake- not even getting there by car! we WALKED - to find seats so that he could prepare two cups of lotus root starch. FYL: We even brought our own water. LYN: We boiled the water at home and brought it ourselves. And then we still had half a bag of lotus root powder left, that we wrapped up and are taking back home. WYZ: FYL- I think if you dressed up as YSS and took pictures by West Lake, I think it would look really nice. LYN: That’s true. WYZ: The white clothes really suit the scenery. LYN: If he went in costume, people would probably recognize him, then. WYZ: They might think it’s some rando cosplaying as YSS. LYN: Don’t keep bringing up the topic of people recognizing us. It’s embarrassing (bc no one did). It’s a complicated feeling.

1:17:50 C: It’s my first time seeing Lao Qian say so much. WYZ: I was at home cleaning up and got a notification that the two of you were streaming. I came in then realized that you can see me. I was just planning to watch in silence and be a viewer. LYN: Yes, I can see when you come in. WYZ: Mainly I saw that the two of you were bare faced and wearing sunglasses, so I thought I could also wear a pair and connect. LYN: We don’t have anything planned - we’re just going to shop around. WYZ: Yeah! It’s not your birthday yet, right? Why would you have a b-day stream… LYN: I don’t have time on the day of my birthday. WYZ: I see. LYN: I don’t have time, so I decided to do something today. It so happened that I asked FYL yesterday if he had time, and he did. Since that was the case I thought we could stream together. We could hang out around Hangzhou. WYZ: Sounds great. It’s rare to have some time off, so it’s great to get around. It gets boring staying in Hengdian all the time. LYN: It’s been too long since I’ve been out and about. WYZ: It’s been a long, long time since I last saw you. LYN: Yes, yes. It’s okay- let’s meet in Beijing in a couple of days. I might have an event there, and we can go out to eat. WYZ: Alright.

1:19:20 WYZ: Oh- you’re still wearing the mic? LYN: No- when I connected with you, I unplugged it. Because I wouldn’t be able to hear you talking with it on. We’re professionals, come on! WYZ: Oh my~ You’re SO professional! LYN: I’m not a pro at acting, but for livestream I’m the PRO. WYZ: You’re amazing. LYN: Sing and acting is not professional, but for streaming I am.

- /8 more minutes until they reach their destination/

WYZ: How long have you been streaming for? LYN: 1h, 20m! WYZ: Wow, so long?? You’ve been streaming the whole way? LYN: Yeah, we just haven’t stopped. This stream is not like those business-oriented other streams. This is just for- WYZ: Chatting. LYN: - for “company.” FYL: For “relaxation.” For “water, but no content”. LYN: It LOOKS like stream, but really it’s a surveillance camera. It’s a surveillance camera, aimed at the two of us. It’s like whatever we do, we’re being monitored. Just for fun. WYZ: You’re not streaming in your house today, so there are no special sound effects. LYN: Right. No canned laughter. I have to laugh myself. WYZ: Yeah! But this way it’s awkward and freezes the room over. LYN: We have music though, in the car. FYL: We’re playing some bgm. WYZ: This is FYL’s car, right? LYN: Yeah. FYL: No, I rented it. WYZ: Ah~ You rented a nice car especially for Lao Ning. FYL: Yes, since he came I have to show up. WYZ: Okay, then.

1:21:00 C: Call Yuan Lu over. LYN: No- it’s not like I was originally planning on a two-person stream. If I had thought I was going to do this earlier, I would have called everyone over. WYZ: Right! I just stumbled in by accident. It’s not like this was planned. LYN: Yeah- I wasn’t planning on this, but I only just now thought that I COULD have done it this way. I was just thinking- if I was in my house, I would just stream like normal but stick up some “Happy Birthday” balloons in the background. I would paste up some flowers. Then after a while my staff would come in pushing a cart with a cake on it to give me a surprise. I would be so touched! Then, I would blow out the candles on stream. After that, my staff would bring some paper prompts with like new year’s wishes or something like that. I’m sure there would be something like, giving the fans some benefit like “posting ten selfies” or something. I know that if I were in my room it would go like that. But I thought about it and… It seems like a process many are familiar with. WY: Yeah, you get the process. I think when we were in the crew, they were all this format. LYN: Right. But I didn’t think that was very interesting so I decided to do something different/unexpected and come out with Xiao Fang. It might not be very exciting, but I think this way is more relaxing and free-flowing. WYZ: I think this is nice. It’s more what you would do normally/in your daily life. If you go the same route as people usually do, it would be boring. WYZ: Then will you be streaming later, on your birthday? Or, no? LYN: I don’t think I will, because I have filming to do. WYZ: Okay. LYN: Since I had the time today, I decided to stream. WYZ: It’s good, since the two of you are in Hengdian. Why not meet, since you’re both there? LYN: Right. FYL: I calculated it, and you should be coming here soon, too. WYZ: Well, you take care of Lao Ning first. FYL: No problem. WYZ: And then later-

FYL: Do you want to catch a plane over to eat instant noodles? WYZ: ?? Instant noodles? FYL: Yeah- I reserved some instant noodles to eat tonight. WYZ: You’d better at least add and egg and let him eat Longevity Noodles. FYL: I will. LYN: He can come over, but the caveat is that you have to reimburse his airfare. XD FYL: Forget about it, then! WYZ: I have ground transportation,... LYN: Of course! You need to book a car service to send and receive him, then after hte meal make sure he has enough to-go before sending him back. WYZ: I’m going to need hair/makeup and wardrobe on the way, too! LYN: You don’t need any of that- all black is quite nice. FYL: Why don’t I call you some takeout? WYZ: Then the three of us will be walking down the street and no one will recognize any of us. X’D LYN: I’m sure.

1:24:18 WYZ: I’m sure that FYL has more of a reputation in Hangzhou than either of us. FYL: Huh? I don’t! LYN: Why? Oh- Because he’s from here? FYL: I’m not from Hangzhou- I’m from Jiaxing. I’m not in Hangzhou all the time; I spend more time in Jiaxing. WYZ: Okay, well- if you’re eating instant noodles then I won’t go. If you eat at some fancy restaurant, remember to call me. LYN: I WISH he would take me to a fancy restaurant. FYL: You aren’t eating that today. It’s not in the cards. LYN: There’s no budget, since you’ve rented this car already. FYL: I only have 200RMB in my pocket. LYN/WYZ: You brought cash? FYL: I was planning on taking him to the shops to buy clothes.// But then I thought of something better. WYZ: Oh, don’t expose where you’re going. LYN: If we mentioned it, we’re definitely not going there anymore. WYZ: Reverse operations. LYN: He was thinking of going to the Sijiqing Garment Market- because it’s more fashionable, right? Even though I’ve never been there!- He told me it was very fashionable. But we were thinking- because many clothes sellers often livestream, too- so if we also went we’d be in direct competition. I was afraid to get hit. FYL: Sijiqing CAN BE fashionable. WYZ: Can you even find Lao Ning’s size there? FYL: Yeah, of course. I was originally planning on the two of us preparing 200RMB, and we’d go around haggling. WYZ: So do you usually get your clothes at Sijiqing? LYN: Someone is asking what Sijiqing is! Let me explain- it really is a fashionable place. It’s a garment market. Somewhere people who sell clothes will go to get their goods for their shop. It’s similar to Wuai Market in Shenyang and Dongwuyuan Wholesale in Beijing. WYZ: There’s also Jintaiyang in Dongbei, right? LYN: Yes, and… Baima in Guangzhou? Or something like that. FYL: I was looking up information online and I read that we should each bring a black plastic bag. WYZ: Yes! And you need a little rolling cart, too. LYN: I’m sure if we weren’t streaming, we could go there too. We could selet some clothing and then sell it online to my fans. XD We buy it for 20RMB, and sell it for 25. Make 5RMB off one article, so if we sell 100 articles we would make 500RMB. That’s not bad. WYZ: It would make streaming worth it. LYN: Right?! WYZ: You could get a decent meal out of it. FYL: Then we’re eating big! LYN: We can eat hotpot. FYL: We wouldn’t have to eat instant noodles. :’)

1:28:04 WYZ: Have you arrived? LYN: Yup, we’re here. Thank you for keeping us company. WYZ: Alright, no problem. LYN: Let’s meet up, either in Hengdian or Beijing. WYZ: Ok! Bye~ LYN: Bye bye~ WYZ: Have fun! Bye bye. LYN: Happy New Year! WYZ: Happy New Year~

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1:28:22 - LYN’s 天问 playing as bgm in the car LYN: Did you used to love my music this much? Or did you know I was coming, so you purposely made this playlist?? FYL: No, it’s a really nice sounding song! FYL: I spent my birthday in the crew, right? Do you know what song they played for me? LYN: What song? FYL: 奉上. LYN: Oh, really? FYL: Yeah!1:28:50 - they’ve arrived at the next destination - Aquarium Date!

[t/n: I won’t translate directly much of this next segment]

1:31:00 - FYL: Should we take our sunglasses off? Otherwise we won’t be able to see anything.

FYL: Jellyfish! LYN: Are these real? FYL: Yeah! LYN: I thought it was a special effect!

1:32:00 - trying to feed the fish & the way lyn translates english is... interesting, but you can’t say he’s wrong. X'D “Feed Point” becomes “FOOD Po (po - 泼/sprinkle) - In (li - 里/in (preposition) - T (tou - 投/to cast/send)” FYL: They (the fish) must eat a lot every day. LYN: But there are a lot of fish…

1:34:30 - they found a snake and referenced the drama lol

FYL: There’s no snake in this one. Asian Vine Snake. It’s too thin, we can’t see it. LYN: Is the snake alright?! /laughs/ The snake is fine, and you’re fine too. LYN: The snake’s okay. It’s inside, sleeping. It’s very alive. Just sleeping.

- [t/n: these fish tanks are just… open-topped. What???] - commenting on the blue color of fish LYN: They won’t jump out? THAT would be impressive. FYL: If they come out, they can’t go back. If that happens then they… meet their H-E. (happy ending, referencing the supposed “H-E” of YNGS)

1:37:00 - Giant Pangasius & Gourami - marvels at the size of… whatever fish that is. FYL: Let’s see if it’ll come up (for fish feed). LYN: I don’t think it cares about that stuff. That’s like peanuts for it. FYL: This white one looks like it wants to eat it… FYL: Look from the top!

FYL: This fish's lips are pretty sexy. LYN: Sexy? Why don't you stick your head in there and kiss it, then?? FYL: It’s not eating… /fish eats/ Oh! It is!

1:38:40 - reptiles, some sort of mimic fish, plants 1:40:00 - arapaima (LYN: This is scary! How long is that!? At least 2m???)

1:41:00 - silver arowana & oscar fish FYL: You said they were ugly and they got angry! LYN: No, but they don’t look as pretty as the ones people raise. - give them some fish food C: I’m hungry now. LYN: Are you hungry because of the fish food, or because of the fish?!? If it’s the fish food, then that’s a little strange. C: Are you at a restaurant? LYN: LOL! FYL: Wasn’t it on the news, that a mother took the fish her son was raising and cooked and ate it? LYN: I haven’t seen that news. LYN: But- what are you talking about?!? This is an aquarium, not a restaurant. Do you think we’re picking out our seafood for dinner?

1:42:45 - these fish are poisonous? (Kaluga Sturgeon & Alligator Gar (eggs are poisonous)) 1:43:40 - /points at the fish/ LYN: What are you looking at?!

1:44:00 - LYN: There’s a “Mermaid Theatre” up ahead. Do we want to check it out? XD - found scorpions & spiders. LYN: I won’t show you any of these cold-blooded animals. You were already afraid enough with just the fish. - Comments egging them on to see the Mermaid Theatre :p

1:44:55 - Starfish FYL: A shark. LYN: Shark, where?

FYL: There! FYL: It looks like… LYN: It looks like a mudfish. FYL: It doesn’t have the feel of a shark. LYN: This is a Spotted Bamboo Shark (狗鲨). This nickname is too weak sounding!! - bullying the fish

1:45:39 LYN: The other day I saw an article on the origin of humans, and it was discussing from where we originated- and there was a comment that read, “Correct. Actually, humans came from the sea. We used to be good friends with goldfish.”

1:46:25 - Sea Turtles (they like to eat and like to play, please don’t stick your hands in the tank) FYL: They’re not afraid of humans, look they’re following us. LYN: They’ve probably been alive for longer than we have! - feeding the turtles and making a joke about hotpot FYL: Who thought to feed sea turtles cabbage? They’ve probably never even seen this, in the sea. LYN: Just like me, someone from Dongbei who’s learned to eat Sichuanese food.

1:50:00 - discussing whether they’re going to check out the mermaids or not 1:50:17 - found some sort of dragon throne

1:51:20 -  FYL goes to  "teach the restroom a lesson"; LYN shows us some sharks. LYN: Did you just wear the mic into the bathroom?? FYL: Yeah, I just that of that! It’s okay, I guess. - lost the sound when it was LYN’s turn.We hear some... sounds of him washing his hands, prob.

- little boy came to bring them some water; he proceeds to follow them around the aquarium 1:57:00 - garden eel 1:57:40 - shark! - manta ray in the water tunnel (bad reception here)

- saw the mermaid, but couldn't show it bc they were wearing... a little. but it’s okay bc the stream lagged and we couldn’t see anything anyway. 2:01:30 - kid’s show - now on their way to finding the exit; they gotta run bc people found them :| 2:05:30 - the kid followed them out, too XD

----------

2:06:42 - on to the next destination!

2:07:18 C: Why do you have double eyelids? LYN: ! Sis, I’ve always had them, you just couldn’t tell because my eyes are small. Like this (straight angle)- I have monolids. But if you look at me from the bottom-up it’s double. 

2:08:05 LYN: Please open (turn on) the music. FYL: LOL, Ok! LYN: Play the music. - LYN: ! Did you fasten your seatbelt?! FYL: Yeah.

2:09:00 LYN: Let me show you the QR code, and you can pay the parking fee for me. XD /to FYL/ How much is it? FYL: 10RMB. LYN: 10? Ok- you (the viewers) can pay that for us. /joking/ - can’t find the exit >.<

2:11:07 FYL: If I don’t wear my sunglasses now, would it be… LYN: … too late to wear them. Wear them a while. You just bought them, right? FYL: No, I;ve had them for a while. LYN: Just never had the chance to wear them? FYL: No I’m just.. Not in the mood? Sometimes I feel like I sort of count as an artist, right? Other people in the airport come out wearing sunglasses and they look very cool. But when I wear them myself I feel like I’m pretending. I can’t stand myself. LYN: I feel that way too. When I used to go to the airport before, I wouldn’t even wear a hat. My hair would be messy, and I didn’t wear sunglasses. At most I would have a face mask. But then I discovered a problem- all of that will become your dark history. XD FYL: That makes sense! XD LYN: Sometimes you get up and you’re not in the greatest condition- your eyes are swollen and your hair is messy and they take pictures of it all. When you look back it all turns into capital materiall to bring you down. That’s why now I try to make myself look more presentable. FYL: That’s true. … I keep losing my sunglasses, though.

2:12:27 - discovers it’s looping the same song C: Where is he taking you? LYN: To eat instant noodles. It’s almost dinner time. FYL: Should I just play any song? LYN: Whatever is fine.

2:13:17 FYL: Do you feel like the year passes by too quickly? LYN: Yeah, it’s too fast. FYL: I feel like… the two of us should find a chance to really go out there and travel. It’s just that I don’t feel like we get many opportunities to create any deep memories. You know? I can’t think of anything I’ve done that has left an impression. I remember my dramas! LYN: I know- we only remember that we’ve been filming for dramas. LYN: For me, I don’t dare to go out to play. I feel like I have to make better use of my time. LYN: But my mentality has gotten better. After YNGS aired, I feel a lot better about it. Sometimes I feel like, “Yeah. I should take a break. It’s time.” Otherwise I can’t see the meaning in life anymore. People have to take a rest sometimes. FYL: Go to West Lake and have a bowl of lotus root starch. LYN: Yeah. C: You’ve matured. LYN: I don’t think that’s it. It (the reception) is just different from what I imagined. That’s why I think it’s time to take a break. I’ll finish up the next four dramas I have lined up and then take a break, XD Or was that too basic and overconfident?? LYN: Sometimes I joke in my stream. They’re all inside-jokes. Please don’t take it seriously. Thank you.

2:15:16 LYN: It’s good that we didn’t do anything too out of the ordinary, today. Otherwise we’d get another round of criticism. FYL: Most of the time I speak without thinking first. But now... I’ve become afraid. LYN: Yeah, the nature of the entertainment industry… it’s like everything we say can be blown out of proportion to the point that everyone is afraid to say anything. It’s better to stay quiet. - talking about wearing pink thermals, I didn’t really catch the prompt why.

2:16:25 FYL: Do you have good eyesight? LYN: Pretty good! One is 5.0 and the other is 5.1. Don’t just see my small eyes, my eyesight is great. FYL: That means you didn’t watch a lot of tv when you were young. LYN: I have my family to thank for that. They didn’t let me watch tv. FYL: Mine either! When I was little I REALLY wanted to watch tv. But when my dad went out he would take the remote and put it somewhere, with a hair on it, to see if it moved. When he came back home he would test the temperature of the screen. LYN: It’s like what spies in dramas do. Put a leaf in the door crack. If someone breaks in the leaf would fall to the floor and you would know someone went into your house. That’s too cool. FYL: I could watch every Saturday, for two hours. LYN: What’s funny is that your family would tell you that watching tv would hurt your eyes, but they’d make you read instead. Somehow reading books doesn’t give you bad eyesight?? FYL: But you should still read often. LYN: There are many ways to gain knowledge nowadays, though. You can gain knowledge by looking at your phone, too. FYL: My sight’s pretty good too. About the same as yours… because I didn’t read that many books when I was young. XD LYN: It’s okay, It all comes around. You didn’t read many books when you were young and that’s why you have to read so many drama scripts now. When you were little you never remembered the prompts, but now you have to remember your lines.

2:18:44 FYL: It’s a state of mind! After you stop filming for a while, you become stupid. But when you start filming, then you start thinking quickly. LYN: Right- it’s the same as singing, we said earlier. You have to maintain it. If you keep remembering lines day after day, your memory will get better, too. - stream lags LYN: Sometimes when we’re filming, if the crew thinks we could use the same setting to crank out a few scenes, they’ll shuffle the schedule. But it’s not as if you remembered the lines for the additional scene ahead of time, so you just have to memorize them on the spot. It doesn’t matter that they gave it to you last minute, you have to remember it. You just have to develop that ability. LYN: It doesn’t happen often, but it does happen. - LYN was about to say something, but decides against it. FYL says that’s something he has to learn from LYN- the sense of awareness.

2:21:30 - tunnel up ahead, possible bad connection - discussing vertical vs horizontal screen position. LYN chose vertical because this way it feels more like we’re on a video call. - troubleshooting for live viewers (if the video and audio aren’t synced, close the window and re-open it)2:22:54 FYL: I loved Hangzhou when I was a kid. Every time, after the rain, it would smell fragrant with flowers. LYN: There weren’t lakes and rivers in Jiaxing? FYL: There were! LYN: But it smelled different? FYL: Yeah. LYN: Dandong is by the Yalu River, so it just smelled like seafood. - considering the geography of the Yalu River estuary - asking what Dandong is known for, and if LYN knows how to make it (he doesn’t) FYL: That’s such a stereotype. It’s just like when people ask me where I’m from, and when I tell them Jiaxing they say I must be good at wrapping zongzi. Like, who told you that?? LYN: is Jiaxing known for zongzi? FYL: Yeah. So I guess all we do at home is wrap zongzi. -__-;

2:25:05 - switched networks; there’s nothing viewers can do but endure it, bc there’s nothing he can do to help it. Says if he tries an outdoors stream again the next time he’ll bring portable wifi device with him.

2:26:15 - still trying to fix the other mic

2:27:20 FYL: If you keep wearing your sunglasses won’t you not be able to see soon? LYN: It’s not important. I’ll wear it while I still can, because I can’t once we get indoors. FYL: You can still wear it indoors, if you’d like. C: It’s lagging because there are too many people watching. LYN: Aiyoo~ You make it seem like we are very welcome and people are falling over themselves trying to watch us. It’s not worth it, and there’s not much exciting content here anyway. There hasn’t been much today- only pretending we lost FYL’s phone, and then suddenly warming up the voice to scare you to death. LYN: ! We’ve been streaming for 2.5 hours! FYL: Already? How come I don’t feel like it? LYN: When I’m streaming at home I’ll go for about 3-4 hours. But I feel like time has passed by so quickly today. FYL: Me too! FYL: It’s been so relaxing, as well. 

2:29:00 C: Is your hand sore (from holding the phone all day)? LYN: Of course it is. - Thanks weibo for promoting the stream and also makes sure that FYL’s channel is also livestreaming.

2:30:05 - they’re both trending in the hot search C: Xiao Fang is on it. LYN: He is, but I’m not? XD FYL: Don’t~! LYN: ! You focus on driving. C: There are three topics. FYL: Am I trending because I lost my phone? They all went to look for it? LYN: They’re saying that you have a solo one, and then there’s one with us together. Thanks for all your support. - continues to entertain the thought that FYL is trending bc people are at Xihu trying to find his phone. LYN: So are we heading back to the hotel to eat? FYL: No~ LYN: This is where we passed by before, right? FYL: Yeah. My location is set to this parking. /indicates the gps/ In this parking lot. We’ll park there are eat instant noodles. LOL. LYN: The day went like this: we went to Xihu to have a bowl of lotus root starch, and now we’re going back to find some parking near Xihu to have instant noodles in the parking lot. I’m guessing the hot water in his thermos is still hot. It should be enough to cook the noodles, right? FYL: It should be no problem. LYN: Oh, I know. Since there’s cold brewed tea, there must also be cold cooked noodles. FYL: Maybe we just let it soak for longer. Eat it and soak it at the same time. LYN: This is called slow-cooking at a low temperature. FYL: Cold and crispy noodles. LYN: Amazing. FYL: We’ll test out the texture for everyone.

2:32:25 C: What did FYL give you as a b-day present? LYN: I’m not complimenting him just because he’s right here, but it’s not as if I compliment him behind his back either- /LOL/- but he’s a really nice person. If we haven’t met for some time, he will always bring me a small gift. Sometimes Lego, sunglasses, or clothes. Today he gifted me with clothing. I haven’t worn it yet. FYL: ! That reminds me of the candle-tray I borrowed from you. When we’re back in Hengdian, I’ll bring it to you. LYN: Don’t worry about it. I’ll get it later. - talking about different ways to say “sensible/having high EQ” FYL: But actually it’s mutual! A few days ago he even sent me Dandong strawberries. C: FYL learned he was streaming and then put on his sunglasses. LYN: /cackling/ FYL: No! I just wanted to wear them while there’s still some sun out! LYN: Right! I know we didn’t do anything fashionable today, but we have to look fashionable while doing it. All-black outfit and sunglasses- I feel like we should be going clubbing. - lag again

2:35:15 - almost at their destination - commenting on the traffic

2:35:37 LYN: We brought a selfie stick, but it’s in the suitcase. Later we’ll take it out and use it as a stand. FYL: But the color is too puxin. LYN: XD It’s also pink colored. 

2:36:20 - trying to navigate around but got kinda lost (a little chaotic)

2:38:27 C: Go spend money at Jinsha Pavillion LYN: LOL FYL: If you give them YSSs name, you get a 5% discount. C: Can YOU drive? FYL: He’s an old driver. LYN: But it’s been a long time. FYL: You don’t really have a chance to drive. LYN: Right. When I go out it’s always to the hair/makeup. You want me to wake up early to drive myself there, then drive myself back at night?? I’d rather use the time to rest while I can (while someone else drives).

2:40:17 C: The back windows are open. LYN: It’s because the security guard earlier scared us! FYL tried to open the front window but pressed the back by accident. FYL: ? Then that means the video is pretty clear. They can even see the windows are open?

2:40:20 - they have arrived at their parking area, and will walk to the final destination? C: It’s dark out now. LYN: Right? We started streaming from when the sun was out and now night’s fallen. - trying to find a parking spot

2:44:56 - in the underground parking FYL: No- I can’t wear these sunglasses anymore. I can’t see a thing!! - /took them off/ FYL: I’m not handsome anymore, but at least I can see. - backing into the space, amazing. LYN: FYL’s steering wheel is about to start smoking. /imitates the aggressive turning of the wheel/

----------

2:46:40 - getting ready to get off the car, masking up, and grabbing supplies (power bank, phone stand) LYN: Where are we going? Are you taking me there? FYL: Yeah! 2:47:50 LYN: Would we get hit for wearing sunglasses when it’s night out? FYL: Huh? LYN: /repeats his question/ FYL: No, they will only think that we are very fashionable. LYN: /laughs/ Alright, then. LYN: In Dongbei, when we want to describe someone as really silly we’ll call them “cao hu”. FYL: If I went to Dongbei, someone could be cursing me out and I would probably say “Thank you.” LYN: Wow, what type of place is this?

- their destination was in the lot they were in earlier, but they weren’t allowed to park there so they have to walk :\ FYL: Oh no, my sunglasses. LYN: It’s too dark. I’m almost at my limit, too. It’s dark but in order to keep my look I can’t see the road very well. C: Take them off. LYN: No, we’ll keep at it for a while longer. No matter how dark it gets!

2:49:42 LYN: Wow, it’s cold at night. Good thing I wore this hat. FYL: I never understood what these things (poms poms) were for. LYN: For fashion. FYL: Is that so?? LYN: When it’s cold you can stuff them in your mouth. FYL: When it’s cold you can stuff them in your ears. 

2:50:38 LYN: We do look quite strange like this, though. FYL: We don’t! LYN: It’s dark and we’re wearing all black, wearing masks and sunglasses. C: Why are you bringing a suitcase? LYN: The power bank and phone stand are in there. The thermos, too. We have to use it to make our noodles later. LYN: We’re here on the street pretending to be celebrities. FYL: I think it’s not that bad in Hangzhou, though. The other day I went to cut my hair, and the building- the whole building- was full of cosplayers. I think this city has a lot of people who like to wear something out of ordinary. We just have to not consider ourselves as all that. LYN: Right. You think that people are looking at you, but in reality no one cares.

2:50:50 - walking

2:53:50 FYL: When did you eat lunch? Did you eat? Don’t tell me you didn’t eat anything before you came out?? LYN: When I came over from Hengdian I had a bread. FYL: How big of a bread? LYN: That small croissant from S*bucks. LYN: That’s all I ate. I woke up, had a coffee and bread, had a bowl of lotus root starch, and now we’re heading to eat a bowl of noodles. So filling. FYL: For your noodles, no matter what I’m going to find a way to fish up some of that grass from the lake. XD LYN: Weren’t you the one who said we’d be arrested if we took anything from the lake?? 

2:55:00 - searching

2:55:40 LYN: It’s here? Such a nice place!?? You don’t want me to foot the bill today, do you? XD LYN: /to the stream/ If he wants me to pay I’m out of here.

2:56:15 FYL: !! I still have two boxes of fish food in my pocket! We can add them to the noodles. LYN: Get some hot water and we can eat the fish food. That’s what they’re saying, that humans originated from fish, right?

-----

[t/n: I don’t think I’ll trns much of the chaos/idle chatter of dinner]

2:57:30 C: Wow, I fell on the floor! LYN: I dropped my phone- FYL: That was a ploy. LYN: Right, we have no content, so we’re forcing it.

- took off the portable mics since they are inside now

2:58:05 - FYL is helping to get everything set up C: Assistant Xiao Fang~ LYN: No! He’s very professional about it. He learned we would be streaming yesterday and went  to buy a selfie stick. C: The sound is suddenly loud. LYN: It’s because, when we were outside, if you could hear too clearly then we might catch other people’s private conversation. That’s impolite. (so they were using the external mics)

2:58:58 - shows off the bright pink selfie stick, which matches the carrier. The sleeve for the stick also matches LYN’s hat (with the pom poms). - plugging in the power bank bc after a day of streaming the phone he’s using has low battery. - suspects that either his power bank doesn’t have power, or the cord he’s using is faulty. It’s the latter, but he has other cords.

3:00:53 LYN: What is this? What are you doing?? You really brought your own tea leaves?!? FYL: I brought my own tea. LYN: Why are we even eating here, if you’re going to even bring your own tea?? FYL: I wasn’t kidding you! It’s because I was thinking whether I should give you lotus root powder or tea on the boat. I was wondering which one looked more “fashion”, and then- LYN: I’ve met people who bring their own beer to a restaurant, but never someone who brings their own tea!

3:02:00 FYL: Step-in Streamer Xiao Fang is at work~ C: You won’t take your sunglasses off? FYL: I’ll wear them for a little longer. FYL: It’s only been recently that I’ve started drinking tea. I used to really like drinking coffee- iced coffee, but in the last two years I feel like I’ve started liking to drink hot things. - cleaning up some spilled water C: You’ve worked hard. FYL: I haven’t~ What have I done? C: It’s healthier. FYL: It is.

C: West Lake Fish in Vinegar Gravy. (Song Sao Fish) FYL: I don’t know if people who aren’t from here could handle eating it. Because, if I’m remembering correctly, the authentic Sour Fish dish doesn’t have salt in it. It’s just sugar and vinegar. Have you had it before? C: Longjing Shrimp. FYL: I think I’m starting to get why people call Hangzhoou a food hub, because the dishes here are more on the light and mild side. But maybe other places in China are known for their strong flavors, heavy on the spices and salt. Hangzhou dishes are cooked to maintain the original flavor of the ingredients. C: Take of your sunglasses. FYL: If he hasn’t taken them off, I won’t! Has he already? Oh, he did. XD Alright, I’ll take them off. You can’t even let me wear them for a little longer? C: Is there a surprise? FYL: Yes~ The surprise already happened when you weren’t there to see it. LYN: You mean losing your phone? FYL: That counts as one of the surprises, yes.

3:05:00 LYN: I was originally thinking- if I streamed at home, I could put a row of rice and soybean oil in the background and then raffle them off to you. But since we made it into an outdoors stream, I don’t think we can raffle anything. Next year, then. FYL: The shipping fee for the rice alone would be ridiculous. It’s so heavy! One bag is what? 5kg? LYN: The shipping fee would be fine. We can just have the recipient pay. It doesn’t make a difference to me. FYL: But would it be embarrassing if it couldn’t be sent? If someone returns the item to sender? LYN: The simplest thing would be to autograph each jug. I’m sure they would reluctantly accept the parcel, in that case. 

3:06:04 LYN: Did you bring your speaker? FYL: Yes, I was just planning to play some songs. But… I think this speaker is a knockoff. LYN: What do you mean? FYL: Yesterday I went to buy takeout and then I saw this brand, so I bought it. But the sound quality isn’t great, and I bought it for the price of the real thing. LYN: How do we know the quality of the sound just isn’t like that to begin with? FYL: You’ll know when you hear it. - puts his fluffy hat back on LYN: I should still wear this hat, because I bought it especially for this stream. I don’t want it to go to waste. FYL: Is in included on the expenses for the day? LYN: It’s included.     

3:06:55 LYN: Are we doing 50/50 split today? FYL: Uh… Sure. - moving the camera FYL: I was thinking on moving it to that side of you? At an angle. FYL: I actually bought two bags of potato chips and bag of shrimp chips, but last night when I was watching a movie I ate them. - LYN, drinking tea and spitting out the tea leaves. ; FYL trying to get his speaker set up FYL: What do you think? Isn’t my tea better than theirs? LYN: I haven’t had theirs. Why don’t I order a cup, and we can compare? FYL: Don’t~ That will hurt someone’s feelings. (either his or the restaurant’s, lol) LYN: Yours is good, too. What is it- “jing ju mei”? It’s a red tea. FYL: You should drink red tea in the winter. FYL: Don’t you think the leaves:water ratio is great? LYN: Yeah, I keep having to pull stuff out of my mouth.

3:08:11 - promoting his and FYL’s weibo accounts. subscribe if you haven’t already. LYN: Thanks for keeping us company today. FYL: If it’s your first time seeing us, we’re two eat-streamers. - checking out the speaker LYN: It looks fine? FYL: Let me play you something, then you’ll know. What should I play? LYN: Anything’s fine. The playlist from the car. - /starts playing music and FYL looks to LYN for assessment/ LYN: How much did you buy this for? FYL: 800+ LYN: It’s fake. FYL: I know. :( LYN: The weight isn’t heavy enough. FYL: Right? I thought it was too light, too.3:09:40 - the dishes are starting to come out. It’s course by course. FYL: We suddenly went from eating instant noodles to this. LYN: I thought we were really going to eat noodles!

3:10:50 LYN: Let’s… eat, then. Sorry, friends- we’re going to eat now. If you have something you can eat with us. LYN: Thank you… thank you to Xiao Fang for treating me to such a grand meal. FYL: ?? I thought we were splitting it? LYN: Oh, then we should eat separately, too. FYL: Is that how it works? XD LYN: If it were split, then you would eat more of the dishes on the table. Whoever eats the most makes the most out of it. 

- eating the dish and describing it as “it’s okay.” RIP. LYN: We were just at the aquarium and now we’re eating (chocolate) shells. - FYL listing out all the ways he discovered the speaker he bought was fake - LYN laughing at FYL for taking a drink from his tea and having to spit out a bunch of leaves - all crabs taste the same to LYN - flipped the camera because it was mirrored and people were confused why LYN was left-handed - it’s also FYL’s first time at this restaurant with their “creative” dishes (usually he just buys takeout) - talking about soup dumplings (the salty kind, not sweet) from Nanjing

FYL: What are you supposed to do in this situation? When someone has sent you a knockoff but insist that their product is real? :(

3:16:20 C: 40 million people are watching two puxin men eat dinner. LYN: One of the reasons why I rarely to eat-streams is because I think it’s impolite to be streaming while I’m eating. When I’m doing other streams, I would not eat while everyone else was. I just feel like eating isn’t right. 

3:17:12 LYN: Wow, you reserved such a nice place, thank you. FYL: It’s nothing. LYN: Thank you. FYL: Stop! If you keep saying that, I’ll be the one footing the bill! Now I’m under pressure. LYN: We’re “internet famous” aren’t we? We’re not lacking that money. FYL: Oh, is that how it is?

3:17:43 C: Ning-ge is really pale. LYN: No- the beauty filter is on. C: Introduce the dish to us. LYN: It’s just… a very delicious soup. FYL: Mushroom and seafood flavor. /desscribes it more/ FYL: /to LYN/ What do you think? I have a talent for cooking, don’t you think? :D - LYN: I feel like everything we’ve done up to this point isn’t important. Right here, this is the most important. Sitting here, eating this meal. It’s like bitter first, then sweet. Eating lotus root starch next to the lake, then having a sweet date (the fruit) for dinner. FYL: Otherwise you wouldn’t have remembered that you had such an exquisite meal tonight! If I had brought you to a restaurant to begin with, wouldn’t it seem too expected? In comparison to the lotus root starch, now don’t you feel- LYN: Wow! This meal is too amazing!! FYL: “FYL took me out to Hangzhou and then treated me to such a nice meal!” 

3:19:10 FYL: Do you have that tendency, to leave the things you like to eat the most until the end? LYN: Of course. FYL: Then have you experienced leaving it for the end, only to have it be taken by someone else before? LYN: I don’t think so. I would never eat out with people like that again. - LYN: I finally feel like I’ve entered an actual city, today. Because I’ve been in Hengdian for close to four years now, so I’ve eaten all there is to eat there already. There aren’t very many shops there, either. FYL: But one thing about it is that you can obviously see that it is much different than it was four years ago. There are a lot of new shops. LYN: Because all the other shops keep closing down. XD It’s a vicious cycle. FYL: I think the food stalls in Hengdian are pretty tasty. LYN: When we were shooting YNGS and we’d get off work at 3-4, I would go eat at the night market. - trying to figure out which night market, LYN doesn’t know the location exactly bc he doesn’t drive [t/n: Same, bro. I know things by landmarks, not streets.]

3:22:07 - FYL grabs Lotso from the carrier LYN: ?? What are you doing? FYL: It’s your birthday present. LYN: Really?? FYL: No, no. I’m joking. /takes it off camera/ LYN: It’s okay, (you can show it) since it’s Disney.

3:22:48 C: How long have you known each other? FYL: Maybe… 15 years? (shí-wǔ) LYN: Not that long. I think you need to fix your pronunciation- 4-5 years is more like it. (sì-wǔ) LYN: We came to know each other filming The Long Ballad. FYL: The first time I met you I still had no idea what you looked like. The first time I saw you, you were wearing a face mask. You were giving everyone hand sanitizer and personal protective equipment. I kept looking at you, trying to figure out what you looked like but you never took the mask off.  LYN: I was too ugly. FYL: No~ Don’t say that. LYN: We first met when shooting The Long Ballad and even after filming had ended we didn’t become close. Because we had never gotten together to eat; there were no crew gatherings during that time. The timing was pretty rushed too, so as soon as we wrapped for the day everyone would turn in to get some rest. FYL: I think I was filming another drama at the same time… so… LYN: So we didn’t meet much in private either. 

3:25:10 FYL: You eat so little, now? LYN: I’m alright. It’s just that I’ve walked a bit much today. XD I’m tired. I’ll rest a little before eating. There’s no rush. LYN: But we’ve kept in contact and then with YNGS we happened to be able to work together again. So we were able to hang out, and it turns out that we get along well.  FYL: After YNGS, we started to hang out more in private. LYN: The most important thing is that we’re able to see each other. With most artist friends it’s hard to even see them half the time. Unless we’re all shooting guzhuang dramas, then of course we could meet each other in Hengdian. FYL: I used to try to make friends after a drama with the intention of keeping in contact, but it’s hard. LYN: Yes, it’s hard. Once you’re in a crew it will be at least four months until you’re out. Once THEY enter a crew it’s at least another four months for them. FYL: Where could we meet up? If in Beijing, it’s always with the possibility that you could be holding up some of their work or vice versa. For the friends you really get along with, it could be one or two years in between meetings. But I think that Hengdian is the place that we could see each other the most often. LYN: Right, because there’s a larger gathering of actors here.

3:27:08 FYL: Do you normally like eating spicy things? Or milder things? LYN: Milder, I guess. FYL: Can you handle spice, though? Like the really spicy kind? - stream lags :p 

C: Since you’re both sitting there, why don’t you take the time to explain what you meant by “H-E.” FYL: They’re really not going to let this go.

LYN: I didn’t really want to talk about YNGS very much, because we’re afraid of saying the wrong thing. Sometimes we just try to answer questions in a joking manner. C: What were you afraid of? LYN: At the time it was- if we had told you right off the bat that everyone dies- FYL: No one would watch the drama! LYN: No one survives, we all die! Do you think people would even want to watch the drama, then? So we could only take one for the team. If you had asked us how the drama turns out, and we told you everyone died, wouldn’t you just give up right then and there? We’d have leaked the ending and destroyed the drama. LYN: But on the other hand, how ISN’T it a happy ending? Whether you’re in the “river” (pronounced “he”) that’s still an “H-E”, and in another world- a parallel universe- that’s also a happy ending. So we didn’t say anything wrong. 

3:29:20 FYL: You should make Ning-ge eat more. He’s too thin. On camera his face is pretty thin, but in real life h’es really too thin. LYN: It’s not important. - some mention of working out together FYL: Is anyone eating right now, while watching us eat? LYN: It counts as eating together. Here, let us give you a toast. LYN/FYL: Happy New Year. FYL: Does watching us make your food go down faster? LYN: Probably not, because we’re not eating it in a way that makes them want it too. - /starts imitating how eat-streamers eat things (loudly and deliciously)/ FYL: Oh, ASMR.

3:30:55 - viewers salty bc of the New Year’s stage (the part where the dancers leaned their heads on Ning-ge’s shoulders) LYN: “It’s just for work.” It’s not like I could ever princess-carry him on tv. C: So you can do it in private? LYN: No~ We’re good friends. Don’t say that or else we’ll have to start avoiding each other to dispel rumors.

3:33:00 - saying (again) how this stream counts as his b-day stream bc he’ll be busy w/ work on the 8th

3:33:30 FYL: In the new drama, is ZLS still a princess? LYN: No. -  her character is one that fishes for pearls? FYL: Then are there scenes by the ocean? LYN: Yeah. FYL: Where did you go to shoot those? LYN: In a water tent. FYL: It’d be nice if you went to Zhoushan. LYN: We might go to a different location, to get the desert (?). FYL: /naming potential locations/ FYL: I feel like in the recent years a lot of guzhuang dramas have gone to the northwest to shoot. - for the scenery, since there’s not much new to see around Hengdian.

3:35:15 FYL: Oh! I asked you earlier, but didn’t get the answer. Was the clothes you wore for new year’s one you borrowed from the drama? LYN: Yeah, I borrowed it. I found Fang (Sizhe)-laoshi’s group to borrow it. FYL: And they still have it? LYN: Yeah- one set is with Fang-laoshi, and the other is in Linmon’s warehouse. FYL: There are only two sets, right? LYN: Yep. FYL: I’m sure my clothes are torn beyond recognition. LYN: I’m sure they have it, though. One that’s new and one you wore for fight scenes.  C: Other people can’t wear it? LYN: No- they usually don’t reuse the same clothes we wear for the drama. They keep it and maybe in a few years Fang-laoshi- FYL: !! LYN: No, not you. The wardrobe designer- Fang-laoshi. Maybe he’ll want to have an exhibit and show all the clothes he’s designed for dramas. I don’t know if that’s true, but that’s what I’m thinking. FYL: It’s possible. FYL: Also the more basic articles, I feel like they’ll wait until the drama has aired and then take those clothes and repurpose them for other clothing.  FYL: But the quality/texture of the drama costumes is really much thicker than the hanfu that people can usually buy to wear. LYN: The material used to make them is probably a lot better than that used to make the clothes we’d normally buy online. Because first of all, they’re tailored, so all the materials are high quality fabrics. You’d rarely find a shop on Taobao that does the same. But I did see one- a set of tailored high-quality clothing going for 3k. Even that’s on the finer side but I’m sure that their fabrics are not as good as what was used in the drama. FYL: I’ve bought some myself before, and from the texture of the fabric- they tend to be thinner or gauze/lace-like. - discussing price and quality of clothing- including all the embroidery, beadwork, metalwork, etc. all the work and attention to detail in these pieces is in scale with the price.

3:39:05 - concert, when? wait for him to release his album first. FYL: You probably won’t have the time this year, right? I think you’re blocked up until at least July or August, right? LYN: I don’t know. I’ll have to see. I keep thinking about taking a break, like I said in the car. Even just one week would be great. FYL: Does that count as taking a break? One week??

3:40:15 LYN: Is it your first time doing a stream like this? FYL: You mean with two people? LYN: Yeah. FYL: It’s my first time. LYN: Then do you go out by yourself? FYL: I went out for my birthday. LYN: You did that? FYL: I had just gotten to Hengdian, so I was streaming myself going around. I started on the street and walked to the restaurant I wanted to eat at, but there was a long line so I went somewhere else. I just wanted to change it up from a regular birthday stream like I’ve had in the past.

3:41:17 - “give shisan more screentime” FYL: I’m here, I’m here! I’m just eating here (out of frame) and then I come back. FYL: It’s moving so fast, I can’t see what they’re saying. LYN: They just want us to eat more. Also they’re spamming “Blooming (Yi Nian Hua Kai)”, what’s that about? FYL: Yi Nian Guan Shan!! LYN: How did Blooming go? When did you film that? FYL: Before YNGS. … Was it? It was the one before the one before YNGS.  LYN: I think you were shooting a modern drama before YNGS. FYL: /confirms/

3:42:48 -LYN breaking his dish into smaller parts FYL: ? You eat such small bites? LYN: No, I’m getting full. But maybe if I look like I’m not eating that much of it I won’t have to pay the bill. LOL. LYN: I actually really like this dish, but pretend that I don’t like it so that he would not have the heart to make me pay for the meal. FYL: :O! LYN: Like, “Oh, you didn’t eat much so I’ll get the bill.” FYL: WOW! Such a dirty trick!! FYL: When we’re done eating we’re both going to sit here like this: /arms crossed, waiting for the other/ LYN: Pretend to look at our watch, take a phone call… XD FYL: It’s a little spicy. LYN: Yes, there’s some pepper in here. /picking at his food/ FYL: /looking at how little LYN is eating/ You’re eating so little I feel like this is making me look like a pig. LYN: No, no. I’m eating everything! I ate a lot. C: What were you doing before in the State of An? LYN: I had a jewelry shop. FYL: Really? LYN: /boldfaced lie/ Yeah. Or what did they say I was? FYL: Weren’t you.. a businessman? LYN: A paramour? FYL: Yeah. LYN: I wasn’t! - LYN: We acted it one way, and how you want to interpret it is whatever you want. There’s actually no fixed answer. LYN: You must not have watched the drama closely. Wasn’t there a scene where they asked me if I was a paramour, and I said, “Do you think I’m worthy, with this appearance?”  FYL: That’s called “retreating in order to advance.” (make concessions to gain advantages)LYN: Use some truth to cover lies. FYL: !! Wait a minute! I almost fell for it!!

3:46:33 - it’s a set course, so the same amount no matter how many people you have in your party. they’ll bring the leftovers back for their staff to eat. LYN: We were originally planning on having our two groups meet and have a meal altogether, but then we figured we would use the time we were eating to chat with you, since we probably wouldn’t get to while we were walking around. LYN: I don’t know if you like what we’ve done today… FYL: The original plan wasn’t like this! There were some unexpected changes of plan. LYN: But sometimes he’ll hang out in his room and chat with you, and normally I’m in my room chatting with you. So today is a special occurrence. This way two good friends- truly good friends- could hang out together and we can back each other up. It’s a more natural and slice-of-life stream. - thinking about doing some more fun streams in the future (FYL: Boxing?) LYN: One of the things we were thinking of was streaming ourselves in an escape room. But most of them- FYL: It’s too dark! LYN: Yes, first of all it’s too dark. You wouldn’t be able to see anything. Secondly, most escape rooms don’t let you record video.

3:49:24 - oopsie! (FYL: Maybe it was thinking you needed a new phone.) FYL: We has a lot of ideas, like go-karting. But it would be hard to hold the camera. LYN: I went karting with HZT once, but I watched the playback and- FYL: How did you film it? LYN: There was a third person- FYL: Outside the track! LYN: Yes. But I don’t think the viewers felt very included, that way. FYL: Yeah, they want to see the gopro aimed at your face- LYN: All of the chin jiggling. XD C: Horse riding. LYN: /nah fam/ LYN: Honestly, even when we’re shooting horse scenes in the dramas there are always setbacks. FYL: Right. It could be pretty dangerous. LYN: The danger is a given, since it’s all part of the job. But the horses in Hengdian aren’t… putting it bluntly, aren’t very good horses. They’re not any prized breed or like the horses you would see at a ranch. They work very hard- not like horses on a ranch that get fed well and washed and have mild personalities. Think about it- we film for hours on end and the horses are right there with us. They’re being pushed around, not getting to drink water- FYL: Hot in the summer and cold in the winter, and no one can help it cool down or put on any layers. LYN: So these horses work very hard and have developed pretty explosive personalities because of it. It’s a little dangerous. FYL: If you know how to ride a horse, you’ll know that the horse will mostly listen to your direction. But have you met a horse where, the director is counting down- three, two, one- and before you can do anything the horse is already moving on its own?  LYN: They understand the directives. LYN: So when I have to do a scene including a horse I always feel apprehensive. FYL: He prepares so many carrots! - every time LYN finishes shooting a scene on horseback (with all the different cuts and camera angles) he’s happy to be alive, lol. LYN: So I’m not really interested in your idea of going to a ranch to ride horses. :\

3:53:20 - other ideas: gym/workout stream. it was a thought but LYN says he would go 10 minutes then be unable to do anything else. XD but the competitive spirit would make them keep going. - FYL has a weight-set he has to put together FYL: If you don’t think it’s heay enough I can go buy more weights. LYN: No, you don’t have to. I think you have 25-50kg already, right? FYL: I think it’s 100kg on each side. LYN: I’m definitely not pushing 100kg, don’t worry. I don’t think I ever will in my life. FYL: You can by the time this drama wraps. LYN: I’d be happy if I could push 40.

3:54:57 C: Swimming stream. LYN: We didn’t even let you see the mermaid show, you think you’d get a chance to see us two Hai’er Brothers?? Don’t say you want to see a swimming stream, and just tell me directly that you want to see the Hai’er Brothers. The next streaming topic will be: Hai’er Brothers. The two of us will be bare-hested and wearing speedos, sitting by the beach? It’s really not worth it. - C: Beach Stream LYN: That could be doable. LYN: But I just can’t stand… having nothing to do. I’m talking about in the stream. Let’s say we set the phone by the sea, and then what? What do the viewers do? Just look at the water? If we do stream I just want to do something that could create good content. The aquarium today was good, because they could at least see something other than our faces. - - more ideas: LYN cooking stream, where he starts from buying the ingredients, prepping and cooking, then calling his friends over to eat it. FYL: Can I add something? How about YOU don’t buy any ingredients. You just use what your friends bring to you. They might bring you something out of the ordinary. LYN: The only problem is that most of my friends probably wouldn’t have time. I’m telling you, today’s stream was and act of heavens and stars aligning. How often is it that we both have some time off at the same time? FYL: I’m okay, but you on the other hand… 

3:57:26 - comments spamming “abs!”, LYN calling them spoiled XD 3:58:35 - idea: LEGO stream (it’d just be a camera and the sound of blocks being put together) 3:59:00 - idea: waterclor painting stream (LYN: I’d just be wasting the paints. XD) 4:00:00 - idea: camping stream

LYN: Today was pretty fulfilling and I was happy to be able to come out and wander around. Truly a day I could do nothing- I didn’t have to think about work at all. FYL: Chill. LYN: What else do you want to chat about? We’ll talk some more and then wrap it up. C: Log off when you hit 50 million viewers. LYN: That seems a little far off.

4:01:42 - chatting about spending their new year holiday with the drama crew C: Will you two collaborate again? LYN: We would have had one… but actually we always bump into each other. FYL: I think it will depend on the project… LYN: Right. There’s no need to forcefully work together. That’s something actors fear- being forced to work together, you know? The script will always take precedence, since friends can always be made. Yuo can hang out with friends all the time, but for work it’s better to choose something you like. 

4:02:50 C: Compare heights. FYL: Why would you- You want me to humiliate myself? Why should I? C: Daimi, Daimi! FYL: … ! Have you shown them how Daimi can peel the sausage herself?? LYN: They know. FYL: Wow. That’s too amazing. I’ve really never heard of a dog being able to do that.

4:03:43 C: Six Realms Hall Prequel?? LYN: I mentioned that because I was watching the drama along with all of you. At the end I felt… that we all died pretty miserably and it felt unfair. Qian Zhao, Sun Lang, Yuan Lu- it was a grievance. I didn’t want to let them go. So I wanted to ask them- why don’t we arrange our own project? We can shoot a Six Realms Hall Prequel. We could grab a DSLR and shoot it ourselves. If we don’t have enough funds, we could use our phones to record as well. We’d edit, cut, and put it all together before selling it to the platform and making some profit. X’D LYN: No, but seriously. I didn’t want to let it go, so I was thinking IF we had the chance to film a Prequel, how great would that be?? But as for how that idea is developing, I can’t say at this moment. C: You can do it. We’ll invest. LYN: Stop messing around, jiejie~ You make it seem like any project I mention in my stream, you’ll invest in. That’s terrifying. FYL: They want to be your boss. - FYL mentions wanting to see Xiao Chuan in this version LYN: A drama isn’t something that can be crowdfunded like this. It requires a lot in investment- at least 1B to START. I don’t think it’s worth it to crowdfund 1B… LYN: But we’re just saying nonsense- gossiping. Don’t take us seriously. 

4:06:35 - there’s abosultuely no way they’re streaming until midnight LYN: We’re pretty much at our limits, today. Our brains are starting to lag. - LYN leaves to use the restroom

FYL: Step-In Streamer Xiao Fang is here. C: I’ve been watching for four hours. You’ve worked hard. FYL: It wasn’t as hard for me as it was for you. - C: The tea is too light. FYL: It’s not… It’s not that I don’t want to let him drink it (give him more leaves), either. I really bought this yesterday , so I felt like if we didn’t drink it, it would go to waste. Since I don’t usually make tea for myself. Since I bought it we should at least try it, right? - C: There’s no birthday cake? FYL: I’ll get him a cake on his actual birthday. - - talking about needing to start maintaining his healthy becuase he’s getting older XD - C: Sing a song. FYL: Don’t let me make a fool of myself. - C: What drama are you currently shooting? FYL: Guess! You’ll know if you look it up online. - C: Ning-ge makes pies in the sky. FYL: What artist nowadays doesn’t?

4:09:04 - switching out FYL: We drank the whole pot of tea! LYN: That’s great, so you didn’t buy it for nothing. But that means that we’re full because we drank so much tea. 4:09:25 - planning on doing a variety show this year since he didn’t have one at all last year (soon to be filming, not a music related one) LYN: I want to do a variety show so that I can rest my brain. LYN: Music varieties are doable, but I don’t think I have enough experience. Because you have to prepare a lot- like arrangements, or think of the song and how you want to change it, get involved in the whole production of it, and I just think it would take up too much brain power. I’ll probably still be shooting the drama at the same time, so I might do a more physical/experiential-type variety show. Like going somewhere to play or sharing an experience. 4:11:00 FYL: Do you think variety shows or dramas makes you more tired? LYN: Dramas… variety shows. You’re a lot more steaday/stable with dramas, because all the time is spent in the drama and you don’t have to think of anything outside of it. On the other had variety hshows are more REALITY shows. The cameras are on ALL THE TIME and you have to remember that and keep your wits. In a variety show, your value is in what you can bring to the table- whether that’s being funny, being smart, or active. You’re constantly on the edge. 

4:11:47 - talking about LYN’s manager staff: NiuNiu (from Shanghai) and GeGe (from Hangzhou); and how he really only has a small team whose only worry is to keeping him alive and well (and working). LYN has no resources, despite what rumors say (that he’s the Devil King of the Entertainment Industry). LYN: I don’t want to reply to a lot of things, even about YNGS, because I don’t WANT to respond. I just think it’s laughable. As someone on the inside, the things that are said about me look strange. A lot of the time I don’t feel the need to respond because people inside the industry all already know what’s going on. I don’t need to make it a point to explain everything.

4:14:00  LYN: The most unusual rumor I’ve heard is that YNGS has yin-yang scripts. There’s no way- us for example, in the same drama- would have two different scripts. There’s no way that can happen, because we need to rehearse the scenes. If even one line or scene is different, we would know immediately. We all have the same script. There are no yin-yang versions. No way. We’re not idiots, either. If he’s holding his script and I just take a look at it- I would know if it were different from mine! It’s just strange. I don’t even know how such a rumor could get so blown out of proportion. For example, we’re sitting here eating this meal and you tell me there are two versions of the food.  ??? It’s all laid out in front of us- it’s all the same food.

- [t/n: that dessert looks tasty *Q*]

4:15:30 LYN: ! I have a song called “Fall in Love” right?? FYL: I saw that!! LYN: He saw it the other day and forwarded it to me. It goes “We want Fang Yilun, Fang Yilun at this moment~” (Let us Fall in Love, Fall in Love, at this moment) FYL: I opened weibo and there were all these notifications of people @-ing me, so I followed the link to see why and sure enough. I forwarded the video to him with the comment, “I know you like me, but you don’t have to say it out loud.”

- FYL recalling how he was shooting a VLOG once and then heard Ning-ge’s song (by recognizing his voice)- Magical Surprise  LYN: We were even planning on going to Disney today! FYL: It’s a little far though, right? LYN: It’s not that it’s far, but more that they don’t allow people to livestream (because of copyright issues). You COULD go, but you have to write out a whole itinerary first. Then the plans have to go through multiple levels of clearance, because safety is most important. You could go to play, you just can’t stream it. 

4:17:00 - will stop streaming when it hits 50M viewers. Subscribe to their weibos if you haven’t already. LYN: We’re both just small actors, who hope to bring roles that we like to life for you. We hope you like them and can continue to support us. FYL: If you want to hear us sing, we’re actually both singers as well. If you want to see us dance, then I’m sorry there’s nothing we can do. LYN: Isn’t your dancing pretty decent, though? FYL: No~ Remember I tried to get you to dance with me? LYN: We can try! LYN: When we were shooting YNGS, he had run this by me. That we could sing a song with some basic choreography together. We could have a good time with everybody. But then we never found a suitable song. 

4:18:20 LYN: I think the day’s been pretty fulfilling. We streamed for 4+ hours, had a good time and- thanks to our friends’ support- had some trending topics. It was a meaningful stream, and I also got treated to a meal at the end of it. FYL: !! You’re saying that so early. It’s still unclear who’s paying for all this or not. LYN: I have something to do later, so I’ll leave first. You can pack all this up. (joking) FYL: I don’t know if everyone enjoyed watching? Or maybe you were bored? But in any case the two of us had a relaxing time. But if you can still enjoy a stream like this, maybe next time we can arrange another one if time allows. LYN: Yeah- it doesn’t need to be because of a birthday. We could discover something fun and want to share with you. I know many of you are working or going to school and you can’t afford to travel and look around (so we’ll take you with us). It’s just like chatting with friends, only on a huge platform like weibo where we can’t be too relaxed and need to watch what we say, a little bit. If we’re too relaxed then people can easily find something to use against us, and then we’ll be cursed at again. Please, spare us.

4:20:10 FYL: You can’t see the number (of viewers) from here, can you? LYN: I can. FYL: Wow, then your eyesight is better than mine!! LYN: I can see them typing clearly, too. FYL: You must not have watched a lot of tv when you were little. LYN: Right, I didn’t watch any.

C: I like your string of beads. LYN: Don’t even think about it. If you like them, go buy your own. I won’t be giving these to you. FYL: When it hits 50M, I’ll make the decision for you and pick a random fan to win the beads. XD FYL: Kidding! I’m kidding!

4:21:00 - people telling him happy b-day in advance~ LYN: Thank you! FYL also came to help me celebrate. Today is the 6th, and the 8th is my birthday. But I won’t be streaming on the 8th; I think I’ll have a lot to shoot. So I’ll thank you in advance, as well. LYN: At times like this, shouldn’t the door open and a cake get rolled in? I can’t believe there’s no cake surprise! Normally, we would be chatting and then all of a sudden- (a cake comes)- and I should say, “Ohh! I’m so touched!” and then cry, then make a wish in front of all of you, then blow out the candles. “Thank you all for keeping me company!” That’s what I should be doing, but I guess not. FYL: We can go to the convenience store and buy a bread and stick a lighter in it. 

4:22:27 LYN: Today was quite nice. I know a lot of my friends are from Hangzhou- I’m sure I have fans here- and you didn’t all come find me, so I’m very thankful. Thank you. FYL: And then you find out they’re waiting to ambush you in Hengdian. LYN: No, no. They wouldn’t do that. They’re very good. FYL: “I couldn’t find you in Hangzhou, but in Hengdian I will never let you off the hook.”4:23:20 C: How about you sing a song? LYN: Come one, let’s sing. You sing something. FYL: What should I sing? LYN: Whatever you want to. Otherwise you bought the 800RMB knockoff speaker for nothing. You have to make the most of it. Sing something worth at least 800. FYL: What should we sing…? What do YOU want to sing? LYN: Something worth 800. I don’t know, anything’s fine. C: 走天涯 FYL: How does that song go? LYN: /sings/ No, not this one. Let’s change. You can choose. Whatever you want. LYN: He likes to sing. Sincerely someone who loves music. FYL: I really can’t think of anything. You pick one. LYN: You can’t think of ANYTHING? Then how about 奉上? FYL: Okay! 奉上, it is! LYN: We’ll use this song as today’s ending. - LYN: Singing in a restaurant, I’m so happy. It’s like we drank too much. FYL: We got drunk on tea. LYN: Self-brought tea will do that to you. - the first notes of the song start playing FYL: I feel like I can’t hold on anymore, I’m about to go (die)! LYN: Why? Oh- because once you hear this music you’re putting on the blindfold. FYL: It’s sending me off! - FYL: I need to sing it properly. LYN: No, it’s okay. We can’t let too loose. Otherwise the other room is gonna think there are lunatics in here. - ♫♪ FYL: The lyrics to this song are really hard!

LYN: We want to thank everyone for their support and their company. I’m happy to be able to spend four and a half hours with you. I hope you had a relaxing, happy, and wonderful night. It was great to have you and I hope your whole month goes splendidly. I’ll see you again in the next stream! Goodnight, everyone. Bye bye! FYL: Happy New Year, everyone! And Happy Birthday to Ning-ge! LYN: Thank you. LYN/FYL: Goodnight everyone! Bye bye!

[florencemtrash]

The Shadowsinger & The Inkbird: Chapter Twenty

Summary: Y/n's clairvoyance is a gift from the Mother, but it feels more like a curse. With the power to gain knowledge through touch alone, Y/n holes herself up in The Alcove and hopes her powers and parentage will remain a secret. But things will change after the Summer Solstice ball and a chance encounter with a certain Shadowsinger.

Warnings: Canon typical graphic depictions

The Shadowsinger & The Inkbird: Masterlist

Masterlist of Masterlists

You were running on coffee and willpower, and both were in short supply. You cradled what you promised would be your last cup in your hands, feeling your fried nerves inch closer to bursting into flames with every bitter sip. 

Azriel had one arm looped protectively around your waist, propping you up against his side like an overworked bookend. You both sat huddled over the map you’d spent the last day and night laboring over until you could picture every stark line pressed behind shuttered eyelids like an afterimage. Until your cramped hands shook while clutching the mug like a vice. 

Feyre, Rhys, Mor, Nesta, Lucien, and Cassian similarly hovered over the innocuous sheet of paper. Pale parchment glow flickering over expressions of intense thought. 

You traced the outline of the lake, its form vaguely star shaped and pointing abstractly towards the north, south, east, and west.

“Here.” You tapped the northeast edge where a greyed out huddle of shapes formed the forest and a collection of scribbles marked the Death god’s home close to the waters. The lines swirled in your mind like a thousand snakes locked in battle, swallowing each other whole and getting eaten alive in an endless, vicious cycle. 

Koschei’s portion of the continent lay flat and unassuming, seemingly vulnerable with the flatlands peering at his back with limitless entry points for enemies from the Continent. But the seductive ease of access through that region was a guise. Koschei was a death god, and a powerful one at that. Magic grew in and out of the soil there and what walked those woods had a strange habit of toeing the line between life and death.

The western corners swam in seas of grasslands, flat and open and unprotected save for the expanse of water a mile wide. 

And the lake. The lake was the most curious thing of all. A black shape on paper, still and foreboding. 

You knew from Andrian’s memories that enchanted swans flocked there — women layered with curses that kept them bound to the region in animal form — but nothing else. No creatures floundered in the salty dark. No animals came to drink from it as if they could sense the power that tainted it with decay. 

“The boundaries of the Koschei’s power lie somewhere along here.” You pointed to the lazy line sketched down. “But I wouldn’t trust it. When Andrian was first sent off from the lake he crossed the plains towards one of the harbor towns on the coast and he felt that Koschei’s influence scaled with the distance away from the source of his power.” 

“Any weak points? Places we could slip in unnoticed?” Feyre’s eyes scanned the page, reimagining your weak swirls of ink into something more layered. Something with more meaning that could only come about from the mind of an artist and a warrior. 

You pointed to one of the star points and then to another toward the south. “Here and here. Don’t ask me how and don’t ask me why but these are the only two blind spots. Andrian used to sneak away from Koschei’s house to these two places.”

“To do what?” Cassian asked. He lumbered towards the back of the war room, easily peering over everyone’s shoulders to the flattened parchment and eyeing the wooden pieces strewn across the map, his own piece being tipped with a glistening red stone. 

“To plan his escape.” 

A hush fell over the room, thick and suffocating. 

The boy had never succeeded.

Feyre’s lips flattened to a pale line, the air around her reverberating with heat as the temperature in the room rose — a drop of Autumn’s power magnified. She nodded to the second map, this one gathered from Azriel’s contacts on the Continent. Whereas your map had laid out Koschei’s land in detail, Azriel’s was suspiciously empty where the lake was concerned. The two fit together like puzzle pieces. “What’s the nearest harbor town?”

“Tournnes.” Azriel replied without needing to look down. You’d memorized one map, he’d memorized the other. “It’s a small fishing village located twenty-three miles to the southwest. Most of the inhabitants are men that come and go with the season and travel west from Slairn and Friesieg. It will be empty this time of year.” The fish would have gone south in search of warmer waters. Even here the Sidra had turned frigid, crusts of ice lapping up against grey sand shores. 

Cassian shook his head, examining the map with a scowl. “There’s poor coverage getting from Tournnes to Koschei. And an abandoned town’s too obvious a place to hide any soldiers. It’d be better to come in from the east, through the woods.”

“Then we’d need to take the long way around Koschei’s territory.” Lucien argued back, “Our soldiers would need to trek through foreign lands for weeks and we’d lose any advantage Tarquin could give us by staying close to the coast.” 

“You can’t trust those woods,” you gasped, your eyes flashing with fear that didn’t wholly belong to you. 

Never enter those woods. Henna had once warned her Andrian. Never. Do you understand me?

Azriel tightened his hold on you, pressing his lips into your hair to brush against your ear. “Breathe, my love. Breathe.” 

You hadn’t realized you’d stopped. 

It was a heavy burden carrying the memories of others. Like a weight tied around your belly that hadn’t been properly woven into flesh. Something both part and apart from you. And you’d been feeling too many of Andrian’s memories in the past week since his death. 

Silence flung itself over growing irritation and anxiety as everyone circled back to the same conclusion. 

They wouldn’t be able to bring their armies abroad. And with limited numbers, brute strength would only go so far when forced to bring a fight to a foreign land against a foreign god. This would be decided by few. It would be as intimate as lovers. As ruthless as enemies. 

“There’s still the other plan.” Nesta reminded them, glancing first at Feyre and you with the faintest of nods. 

“I hate that plan, Nes.” Cassian gripped the back of her wing-backed chair and she reached up to take his hand in her own. She looked like a queen in her own right — harsh, pragmatic, unwavering. And he her mirror — a roguish knight, rough and wild and raw. 

“I know. Unfortunately for you, it’s the best one we’ve got.” 

“It’s the only one we’ve got.” Mor said with a sigh, rubbing her temples to alleviate the ache there. “We’re asking for a blood bath one way or the other.” 

“Ione is still with us.” Rhys squeezed his cousin’s knee. “Without her, he can be killed.” 

“But for how long, Rhys? How long until he finds someone else? Some other way?”

The question hung in the air like an ax ready to fall. An invisible clock ticking its way towards doom. Koschei had read the book’s contents. He had to know the secret to freeing himself was sheltered in Ione’s veins. So long as she was alive and breathing she was a threat as much as she was a tantalizing prize for him to tear his teeth into. 

Feyre’s fingernails clicked on the glossy tabletop, eyes narrowed in on that splash of black on paper. Through the golden string tied to her lower ribs, she felt the tug of her mate’s silent agreement. Her eyes flickered upward for a brief moment, as if she could see through the layers of the House to the skies above. “For as long as we have Ione, we have the upper hand. But we can’t rely on it forever.” She looked at you, “ We go with the first plan. It will have to be enough.” 

You shivered. 

Four years ago, when the Day Court had first opened its borders to foreigners from other Courts, you’d encountered a male in the market. He’d been young and reckless and glamoured himself to live amongst the humans for six months. In that time, he’d learned their version of magic — the sleight of hand tricks and elaborate games of misdirection humans played on one another. Caped entertainers bedazzling crowds with obvious moves, while the real work happened just out of frame. 

You thought of him now. You pictured him in the marketplace as he made a hand-painted playing card disappear from his hand into the fold of his suit jacket, only to reappear under an overturned teacup. 

Yes. 

It would have to be enough. 

The crisp blade flashed in the dull light as you moved your feet back and forth in a practiced dance. 

Left, left, right, duck, keep your wrist straight and slice up. Just like Azriel had instructed you. He stood off the narrow mat, hazel eyes tracing every slow movement of yours with a critical gaze. 

“Practice makes permanence.” He’d reminded you earlier. “Get it right first, then we’ll worry about speed.” 

Magic hovered over the House of Wind’s training gym, warping the air like a soap bubble as it shielded you from the frigid rain. Even so, the scent of petrichor and the cleanliness of frosted wind hung close to warn of the storm churning its way down from the north, carrying with it the promise of rainfall or the first true flakes of snow. 

How poetic that winter should come with death chasing its heels while you were learning a dozen ways to kill a man. 

“Here.” Azriel took your wrist in a loose grip, arching your arm and sticking the point of the knife into the training dummy’s jugular. Hay crinkled and burst out from the burlap covering instead of blood and you stepped away, locating the points in the liver, the lungs, the heart, the throat, under the arms, and more. Gruesome things made digestible by the motionless, fake body propped up on wooden poles. 

You didn’t need to imagine what it would feel like for your blade to meet flesh. 

Your arms ached. Hot, unfamiliar stretches of muscle trembling while slick with sweat. You could taste salt on your tongue as Azriel repeated himself. 

“Be precise. Be quick if you can. Then run like hell.” 

Incapacitation and speed. Those were the only two things you could rely on if things went south on the Continent. 

Precise. Quick. Run.

“Emphasis on run,” You muttered beneath your breath. You adjusted your feet to match Azriel’s stance, feeling the strength of his muscles close to your body and imagining some of that power seeping into the ground for you to drink up. 

The corner of his mouth twitched, then rose in a smile. “Exactly.” He stepped in, hands twisting your hips to be straight and then drifting up to your wrist. “Too much.” He corrected your bones with a feather-light touch. He wasn’t smiling anymore. 

It should have been romantic. Him touching you like this with his front pressed against your back and his breath sliding over your skin as he taught you to wield a knife. Instead his insides churned relentlessly. Visions of you, blood-splattered and motionless on the ground, flashed through his mind. He’d be damned if he let that happen again. 

You practiced on him next. Blunt, stone knife gripped in your hands as he moved in slow-motion. Azriel must have had everything custom made for you. The balance felt right in your hands, the movement as fluid as your awkward limbs could manage. 

You clasped a hand around the back of his neck, dragging him forward as you swung up. 

Where the head goes, the body will follow.

He didn’t so much as grunt as the stone wedged itself into his ribs. 

You locked eyes with him and saw his pupils blown wide as a doe’s. “Good.” He murmured. “Again.” 

On and on you went for hours, Azriel’s panic fueling the training he put you through, as if he could fit a hundred years of combat into a handful of hours. 

You grunted when Azriel easily flipped you over onto your back, a scarred hand catching the nape of your neck so your head wouldn’t slam into the floor. The knife slipped out from your sweaty fingers, skittering away and disappearing beneath one of the weapons racks along the wall. You breathed heavily beneath him, feeling the grit of the ground and the sweat sliding into your hair and the leather brushing your chest with every breath he took. 

In a real fight, Azriel would have killed you a thousand times over and he knew it. There was not a single moment where you could have saved yourself. 

You saw the tell tale flicker in his eyes, the tensing of his jaw before he gritted his teeth and swore beneath his breath. 

You felt shame seep into your stomach again. “Az—”

“I want you to take my memories,” he said. “Everything I’ve learned over 500 years.” 

Metal whispered against leather as a tendril of shadow retrieved the knife and slid it into the thigh sheath Azriel had tied around your legs only hours ago. It felt strange to have such an unfamiliar weight against your thighs. To know that only leather kept the wicked blade from slicing you to the bone. 

“We’ve been over this before, Azriel. I can take however many memories I want from you until I can picture every way to take down an enemy in my mind’s eye. But that doesn’t mean my body will obey or follow through correctly. Knowing things mentally isn’t the same thing as knowing things physically.”

Azriel huffed in frustration, dropping one hand to your waist like he often did and gripping the flesh there to ground him. 

“If we had more time—”

“When this is over we’ll have more time.” 

If I make it. 

Because if there was anyone who would survive what was to come. It was Azriel. And you could find a great deal of comfort in that.

Azriel must have read your doubt because his eyes hardened and his hands came up to cup your jaw. “We will have more time. We’ll have time for everything, do you understand me?”

“Like what?”

“Whatever you want. We’ll travel the Courts. I’ll take you dancing and—”

“You’ll teach me a dozen new ways to kill someone?” 

“Exactly.”

“Should I start keeping a tally?” 

“If that would help, then yes.” He dipped his head down, kissing you firmly on the lips, the taste salty and warm to the touch. Kissing you came easy now. Touches were a comforting drug he craved daily. 

“If things go wrong—” He whispered, flicking a strand of hair out of your eyes. “Promise me you’ll find me.” 

You blinked up at him, tracing fragments of gold in his eyes. 

“Find you,” you echoed, your voice tinged with sadness. “You’re not going to convince me to run?”

He laughed bitterly. “I know you too well, my love. You wouldn’t listen even if I did. If anything, it would make you want to stay and fight even more, just to prove me wrong.“ “Then is this some reverse psychology? You tell me the opposite of what you want, so I end up doing what you intended all along?”

“You’re thinking too deeply about this.” He slid his arms around the small of your back, dropping his weight until you were flush against him. Until you could feel his heart beating beneath his skin in time to yours. “Find me, so I can protect you. And so if anything happens, we won’t be alone. I want you to promise me.” 

You caressed his cheek, the coarse bandages he’d wound around your wrists and knuckles scratching the skin of his jaw and the faint stubble that had grown there over sleepless nights. “I promise I’ll find you, Azriel. We’re better together anyways.” 

He could never disagree with you. He lifted you back onto your feet, kissing your forehead. “Three more drills, then we’ll be done for the day.” 

He made you run five. The bastard.

You’d dreamed of what might come. Nightmares filled with glassy-eyed children and skeletal forests where the dead roamed free. A black lake with stones of bleached bone to fill your lungs and choke the life out of you. 

You wanted to make Azriel proud. You wanted to be the kind of warrior who could match him physically, not just mentally. The kind of female he’d never have to worry about protecting in that way. But violence had never been beaten into your bones and you could only hope that the skills you did possess would see you through to the end. 

You and Azriel would make it. You’d all make it. 

Some way. 

Somehow. 

Then there would be time for everything you had ever wanted and everything you’d never had the courage to ask for.

You woke up to a world shivering beneath a dusting of snow. Frost creeped up the windowsill, trying to slither inside before the House’s magic burned it away. A grey, ashen sky hung low over the mountains, mist blowing over and gathering in valleys until they were transformed into pools of smoke. 

So this is it. You thought wearily, tasting the change in the air. Winter’s finally here to choke the world into submission. 

You burrowed further under Azriel’s wings, chasing the heat that rolled off his skin. When you looked up at his eyes they were already trained on the weather, some similar tangle of thoughts running through his mind that had his grip around your waist tightening. 

“The other death gods. Have you met any of them, Az?” You whispered your question into the hollow of his neck, feeling the blood rushing beneath your lips until he answered.

“I’ve met a fair few. The Bone Carver, Stryga, and Bryaxis joined our side in the final battle against Hybern and Nesta was equivalent in power when she first emerged from the Cauldron.” 

“Nesta?” You asked questionably. 

She was a collection of sharp edges wrapped in silk and cunning, but a death god? 

Azriel smiled ever so slightly. “You didn’t know her then, but she was a terror to behold. You could feel her presence in a room like a knife in your back or a flame licking at your heels so hold it starts to freeze. Only Cassian was foolish and lovestruck enough to approach her at the time.” 

You tried to imagine it — Cassian’s wild, borderline arrogant mannerisms going toe-to-toe against Nesta’s magnified sharp grace. “That sounds about right.” 

“Feyre knows the most about the death gods. Has come face to face with the most. Rhys sent her into the Weaver’s cabin to retrieve her engagement ring — don’t give me that look, my love, I don’t understand it either — and she’s the one who convinced The Bone Carver and Bryaxis to fight for us.” 

“Feyre has a penchant for endearing herself to monsters.” 

Azriel smirked, pearly teeth flashing. “You have no idea.” Then he said something that stuck with you. “The Bone Carver was especially close to her.” 

Anytime the Bone Carver — Thanatos — was mentioned, you could only think of Bethsevah. The one person who had ever looked upon his true face and never flinched.

“How so?” 

Shadows swarmed around his ears, as much a sign of his thinking as it was a sign that whispers beyond your own understanding were reaching him. 

“When Feyre met with the Bone Carver, he made a bargain that he’d only fight for her if she could descend into the Court of Nightmares and bring back an enchanted mirror without going mad. Feyre said she saw her true form when she looked into her reflection, and that it was only by accepting this form that she was able to keep the madness at bay. The Bone Carver was impressed with her and pledged his loyalty to her from then on.” Azriel shook his head, wings flaring out in another sign of his thinking. “It never made sense to me why a being like him would even make that bargain to begin with.” 

“Even death gods can be surprised. We should consider ourselves lucky.” 

“It wasn’t just that though. I was watching when he died. He… he turned his face up to the field at Feyre and he smiled at her. It felt like a bittersweet ending to a story I didn’t know. Like he was saying goodbye to more than just this world.” 

You draped your arm over his chest, tracing the black ink swirling across his chest and over his shoulders like ocean waves. The Bone Carver was more myth than legend to the few fae that had known of his existence and you knew with each passing century his story would be steadily wiped from the earth like wind shaving down stone. His name would become a whisper. His story, and Beth’s, a tragedy for no one but the stars to weep to. 

But you were still here, and your time with Bethsevah’s book had left you with no small amount of fondness for him. For now you would still be able to whisper his true name. 

“Thanatos.” You said. “He loved this world and the people in it. He sacrificed his life for it. I think he had many things he wanted to say goodbye to.” 

“To Thanatos then.” Azriel raised an invisible cup towards the ceiling of his bedroom, silk sheets sliding down his arms.

“To Thanatos,” you echoed. 

You eventually went through the morning motions together —Azriel helped lace up the back of your dress, and you buttoned up his shirts, careful to avoid the fragile membrane of his wings as you stood at his back.

He tugged you away from the bedroom door at the last moment, your questioning eyes softening when he cradled your face in his hands and stole one last kiss in the privacy of your room, murmuring "Beautiful," against the crown of your freshly brushed hair.

"Do the others know you're such a hopeless romantic?" You asked, finally opening the door and breaking the spell of privacy.

Before Azriel could answer, Cassian blew past the room, shockingly quiet for his mountainous size. "Yes, we all know," he shouted before disappearing down the hall.

Ione stood proud and tall in front of the windows, grey eyes narrowed at the Sidra as it wound through the valley like a snake. Cassian slid into the space beside her and handed her her cane. She knew instinctively where the warrior stood and where his hand reached out towards her. She took the cane without the second glance. A golden lion’s head roared from atop its wooden post, Ione’s fingers resting squarely between its glistening teeth as she leaned experimentally on the new device. Cassian had ordered it custom for her and she knew that hidden within the sleeve of glistening redwood was an iron rod forged in enchanted flames that rendered it near unbreakable. 

“Careful.” She reminded Cassian when she caught him staring for too long. “This body may be different, but I can still bring you to your knees.” 

Cassian chuckled, “I don’t doubt that.”

She slammed the cane against the ground once. Twice. Testing its strength and finding it worthy. “Do you think it will happen soon?” 

This waiting — it was beginning to grate on her nerves. This foreboding calm that threatened to fall away into chaos and bloodshed. She almost wished she were living three years into the future, when she was finally done healing from her wounds and the future had faded into the background of her life once more.

“If I could see into the future, I would not be here right now waiting.”

“And yet here we are.” Ione sighed, shoulders rising and falling elegantly beneath a wrinkled but slender neck.  

Cassian would have said more had Feyre and Rhys not entered the room together, bruises layered beneath their eyes as they plastered on bright smiles for their family, tension visible through the cracks in their porcelain teeth. 

The Inner Circle had assembled in their entirety at the request of their High Lord and High Lady. There was no holiday to be celebrated. No birthdays or anniversaries or special occasions. The fare that had been laid out on the table was simple and everyone filled their plates before spilling out across the sofas and the armchairs or carving out a space on one of Rhysand’s expensive hand-woven rugs. There would be no special meal around the new table devoid of scratches and watermarks and the passage of time and love. This was their family, and for their family it was the company that put finery to shame. 

Elain was a flutter of movement in and out of the kitchen, shepherding pots of tea and fruit tarts before Lucien finally caught her around the waist and made her rest. The House was equally restless. The lights strung above the fireplace mantle flickered like lantern flies. 

Mor sat with Emerie’s wings draped around her shoulders like a cape and Gwyn sat on the floor, hugging her knees close to her chest as she rested her head against the Illyrian female’s knee. To no one’s surprise, you and Azriel clung to the corner of the room, content to watch everyone’s laughter with your arm subtly looped around his. 

He still hasn’t told her, I see. Emerie noted, watching your smile stretch into place when Azriel leaned close to whisper in your ear. 

Does it matter? Mor teased, kissing Emerie’s nose reverently. The Illyrian’s cheeks turned warm. Emerie had not been granted the freedom to explore romance to the same degree as Mor, something she’d worried about when they first started their courtship. But if anyone asked the blonde, she’d tell them it drove her wild to see how such simple gestures could reduce the fearsome warrior to a puddle, even now. Mor tucked herself into Emerie’s side, throwing her long legs over the armrest. It’s probably a good thing. If they could speak to each other like this, we’d never hear from them again.

Emerie laughed into Mor’s golden hair. 

Conversations rose and fell. Plates emptied and clicked as they were laid out on the coffee table.

It was a simple peace they welcomed with open arms. 

They didn’t hear the faintest thud coming from above their heads. 

You smiled when one of Azriel’s shadows wove themselves into your hair, tickling the sensitive skin behind your ear and along your neck. 

“Sorry,” Azriel whispered, trying and failing to draw them back to him for the nth time that day. “I don’t know what’s gotten into them.” They’d been especially touchy as of late, nipping at your heels like a litter of puppies vying for attention or hiding in your pockets. It was a mixture of Azriel’s own feelings that spurred them on and their own desire to protect what they’d claimed as theirs. 

“It’s alright, Azriel. I like having them around.” 

They hummed amongst themselves, happy to see you so pleased. Sometimes, Azriel wondered if you’d be able to learn to listen to them as well. To tease apart that secret language he couldn’t begin to describe. 

Maybe you were listening to them now without even realizing it.

Maybe that’s why you and Azriel were the only ones whose eyes snapped towards the hallway before the first creak of wood sounded throughout the House.

The shuffling of a new, unfamiliar set of feet down the stairs had the hair on the back of your neck rising and crackling with energy.

It wasn’t Jurian. It wasn’t loud enough to be Jurian. He so rarely descended from the attic that he made a habit of making his presence known, tired feet shuffling along the rugged staircase with measured drags. 

You walked over to your brother and tugged on the back of his shirt. “Jurian—”

“That’s not Jurian.” Lucien said with bated breath. He was the third person in the room to hear the sound.

He’d checked on his friends less than a handful of hours ago. Jurian had been as he always was — weary but hopeful as one hand had clenched the bundle of morphine and the other had leaned against the food cart Lucien had carried up to the top floor. 

And Vassa… Vassa had been uncharacteristically quiet, slouching against the wall of her gilded cage, raw skin and thin feathers trembling with her haggard breath as she slept. 

“You should come down.” Lucien had said. “You deserve a break.” 

But Jurian had only shook his head and flashed a tight smile. “As much as I would love to bless you with my presence, I won’t leave her like this. But one day, my friend, we’ll both walk down those steps together and have a proper celebration. I promise you.” 

Vassa came down the steps. 

Alone. 

Naked.

Shivering.

You eyed the window where the mid-afternoon sun beat down on a frosted city. 

It was the middle of the day… and Vassa was human. 

You clutched Lucien’s arm, fingernails digging through his cotton shirt before he could take another step forward. Silence suffocated the room. There was something deeply wrong with the cursed queen. She trembled like a newborn fawn unceremoniously dumped into the world, her skin puckered and pock-marked from where she’d picked at old scabs and opened new wounds. The whole array hung from bones so thin they may as well have belonged to a bird. 

“Vassa…” Lucien’s voice broke on her name. 

A path of bloody feathers trailed behind her.

She grasped at strands of her fiery red hair and tugged. Hard. You focused all your energy on keeping the food in your stomach when strands fell through her bloody fingers and saliva rose in your mouth. 

“I’m so sorry, Lucien. I can’t… It won’t stop.” Her voice, which had once been beautiful, grated your ears. “My skin. It feels like I’m crawling out of it.” 

“Vassa.” Lucien held out his hands, showing her they were empty. “Where’s Jurian?” He would come down. He would help her in ways only he was capable of. 

“I don’t… I don’t know…”

“Where’s Jurian?”

At the second mention of her lover’s name, Vassa broke down crying. Fat, ugly tears streaking down tan cheeks that had turned sallow and grey. She wiped them away, fingers dripping. There was a deep, unyielding hunger evident in every stutter of her body as her eyes raked across the room. You flinched when those milky, teal eyes passed over you… and landed on Ione. 

Elderly, painfully human, Ione.

Vassa’s left eye twitched and Azriel had only enough time to tackle you to the ground and cover your body with his own before the mortal queen burst into flames.

<- Previous Chapter Next Chapter ->

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Author's Note:

^^ Visual depiction of how I've felt the last week like what in the world? I'm getting enough sleep I swear but every morning I feel like I'm dragging a two ton boulder behind me until I get a sip of that bitter goodness. Ugh. Hope y'all are resting better than I am.

Anyways, I know it's been a while since I posted, but the chapter is here! Whoop! And I hope you enjoyed :) As always, feedback is appreciated and welcome if you have burning things you need to get off your chest (doesn't even have to be SSIB-related honestly my inbox is there).

[llamagoddessofficial]

The sirens are always rescuing Mc. But what if, for once, Mc was the one who came to the rescue of a siren...?

Amazing commission, courtesy of the delightful @our-brightest-stars. I love any chance I can take to write more arctic-based stuff!

---

You could immediately tell, upon entering the room, that they had been talking about you. 

Despite the sweet smell of coffee, the air was heavy. The chatter you had been hearing through the door immediately stopped, like you were a teacher that’d walked into a room of gossiping school kids. Four of your colleagues were gathered together around the kitchen table, mugs clasped in their hands - Evan, who you already thought was a bit of a dick, put his hand up to his shut mouth and cast a wide-eyed look to Leo and Tom beside him. Antoni, who you considered something of a friend, had her back to you but sank sheepishly into her beige turtleneck sweater regardless.

You bit the inside of your lip. You could tell from their faces what they had been discussing before you interrupted. You had gotten to know their expressions pretty well, after so long occupying the same cramped arctic research station together.

... Yeah, figured they’d find out eventually. If anything, I’m surprised it took them this long. 

You wordlessly made your way over to the coffee pot, shoes squeaking against the rubber floor. You put your rucksack onto the counter, grabbing your flask out of it, skin prickling from their staring. There was still a significant amount of coffee left - a bonus of working with people who were also coffee addicts was they generally respected the ‘never leave the pot empty’ rule. 

You filled your flask. The coffee still had some steam coming off it. Stars, the silence was deafening.

“... Uh... going out?” Antoni asked, plaintively, as you screwed the lid back on and pushed the sealed flask into the mesh on the side of your bag. At least she had the decency to sound ashamed. Leo didn’t do a very good job of hiding his snicker.

“Yeah.” You hefted the bag back onto your shoulders, doing your best to not make eye contact with any of them. 

Evan, clearly, couldn’t contain himself. “Gonna go track down mothman?”

You felt a flush of multiple emotions at the same time. Some embarrassment, some shame, all of it quickly washed away by aggravation. Heat rose to your cheeks, but you held your tongue. You wanted to point out what a stupid fucking thing it was to talk about tracking mothman (a cryptid from West Virginia) in the high arctic, but it was obvious he was baiting you, so you kept your mouth shut.

It wasn’t the first time you’d been made fun of for what you believed in. However... the words stung that little bit more, when it was coming from your fellow scientists. 

“Evan,” Antoni sounded exasperated, “don’t be such a prick.”

Evan raised his hands. “What? So I’m not allowed to ask questions?”

You didn’t respond. You walked past them, headed to the main corridor; you weren’t going to let this spoil your plans. “See you guys later.”

As you left the room, you vaguely heard Antoni and Leo starting to berate Evan in low whispers. Someone definitely called him an asshole, cut off as the door closed behind you.

You sighed. The hallway felt a lot longer than usual. You passed through another set of doors, heavy metal ones, into the cold ‘buffer’ room between the warm research station interior and the outside world. After double checking you had all your gear, you stepped out of the doors, outside into the sun.

People didn’t realise how beautiful the arctic could really be. If you told someone to describe the arctic, they would probably just talk about the ice. And yeah, sure, there was a lot of ice, it would be unreasonable to say someone was wrong for thinking of that. But that was like describing a forest as ‘just trees’. The arctic at this time of year was endless slopes of rugged greens that rolled and swayed and disappeared far away into the horizon and beyond, carved into shape by ancient lakes and glaciers scraping the ground piece by piece once in a millenia. It was a sight to behold. Trees couldn’t take root, only the hardiest shrubs survived, and you were little more than a stone’s throw from the vast sub-zero ocean.

That ocean, a haven for the rarest kinds of sirens, was your goal. 

You tugged your backpack into a more snug position on your shoulders, and continued trudging through the stones and bare grasses. Even now, with the sun high in the air and all but the most stubborn chunks of the ice gone, the arctic was... well, the arctic. It never got warm enough to be comfortable and it was a good idea to just keep moving if you wanted to make it to the shoreline with enough time to actually get some footage before sundown.

You loved your job. Some would call you crazy, for willingly spending months at a time in the arctic circle studying sirens. You’d always been interested in sirens. The mystery and culture wrapped up within them, the inherent danger, so little information could solve so much. Siren studies was one of those areas where even the most fractional of discoveries would be groundbreaking and important.

... Sirens weren’t your true passion, though. Your true passion was what Evan had probably just discovered, and shared with your teammates - why you were lugging such a giant cold-resistant camera kit in your bag with you.

You quietened your thoughts with a swig of warm coffee, and an increased walking pace. 

Would some people call your Youtube channel conspiratorial? Sure. But cryptids were where your heart really lied. Cryptid study, cryptid research, cryptid sightings... you were incredibly proud of the modest following of like-minded people you’d built up online over time - there was no doubt your qualifications definitely gave your word some weight in the tight-knit community. Honestly, you considered your research work simply a way to fund your true passion. Every day when you had the free time, you took your camera out with you, out into the beautiful arctic land. There was so much to look out for. What would you find? You were giddy. If you found something truly incredible, your channel could blow up, and you could do Youtube full time. Today your mission was just to get some footage of the sea for a voiceover section you had planned.

... There was never a small amount of side-eyeing from people you knew, when they found out what you were passionate about. You weren’t sure what was worse; the ones who rolled their eyes and made stupid comments, or the ones who nodded along but looked at you like you were a particularly imaginative child. At least the more aggressive ones were honest about how they really felt. 

Sirens, in a way, felt like they proved that you were right to keep wondering what else was out there. They were incredible creatures, not even fractionally understood, dangerous and magical - they perfectly straddled the line between science and fantasy and there was so much of them that couldn’t be explained by those who (so frequently) brushed you off. How did their songs lure people? How do their bodies consist of such strange combinations of beings? How do they effortlessly sink hunting boats? Why did so many cultures have matching stories of them that perfectly apply to real life? In your world, honestly, the existence of sirens meant that a lot of other cryptids didn’t seem like too much of a stretch.

You had dedicated your life to researching sirens. By studying them, you could follow a path that was suitably scientific enough to shut up the assholes who didn’t take you seriously... but also gave you the time and resources to pursue your real passion.

You had to admit, you took pleasure in people discovering you were a scientist and a strong believer in certain cryptids. The visual erroring on their faces was wonderfully karmic to observe.

There was plenty of time to spare on the arctic research station. Experiments were frequent but didn’t take literally all day. You were left with ample opportunity to do whatever you pleased. Like, for instance... go out and film for your Youtube.

Aside from wanting to take pictures and film some B-roll, you just generally enjoyed being able to be outside. It was all well and good in the spring and summer, but when autumn and winter rolled around you’d be lucky to be able to see out of the windows. There was nothing as endless as the darkness of an arctic winter; the screaming winds, the days as pitch black as the nights, the many weeks cooped up in one place because the outside of the facility was literally one of the most hostile environments on Earth. It was good to stretch the legs - soak up as much serotonin as possible before the winter months came.

After a decent amount of time walking, immersed in your thoughts, you found yourself able to see the flat expanse of the sea poking just over the snow-topped hills. You were finally approaching the shore. Even from where you stood, you could see the massive ‘islands’ of ice floating silently away in the far distance. It was a truly magnificent place to be.

You rifled through your pockets for your hearing protection as you came close enough to the water to smell it, eventually having to pull off a glove for the dexterity. Even just a few metres from the sea you had to be aware of sirensong. Sirensong was always something of a risk but it was an even stronger risk while you were somewhere as remote as the arctic.

... But just before you got your protection into your ears, you heard something. It sounded like scrabbling, a weirdly desperate scratching. You stopped walking, turning cluelessly and searching for the source of the noise.

A few yards to your left, a patch of snow was wriggling.

No. It wasn’t snow. You blinked in surprise; it was an arctic hare, a surprisingly large animal, lean and white and with beady little black eyes. The animals this far north were always so much bigger than you expected. When it saw you notice it, it scrabbled and flailed in a way that only a frightened animal could, clearly desperately trying to run away. 

Something was stopping it. Upon closer inspection, from where you stood, you could see it had one back leg trapped in a small crack in the ice.

... Huh. You moved nearer, putting your hearing protection back into your pocket. The hare flailed again, wildly kicking its front legs, it reminded you of an injured bird trying to fly. Then it totally stilled; as if it could hide from you after all that movement.

“... I really shouldn’t help you,” you said, dejectedly, to the terrified animal, watching its little whiskers twitch, long ears pinned back against its skull as it tried to act indistinguishable from the ground. “Survival of the fittest, and all.”

The hare’s beautiful eyes stared up at you. You could see its little chest going up and down, heart beating wildly under its soft white fur.

...

You scanned the horizon. There was no one around for a long while. Sure, your GPS tracker told your coworkers where you were at all times in case of emergency. But until they thought there was an emergency you absolutely weren’t being followed anytime soon.

...

You pulled your bag off your shoulders, kneeling down and tugging your ice pick out of its strap holder. 

“No one will know, right?” you told the hare. It was just one hare. Even though leaving it was the logical thing to do, you couldn’t genuinely bring yourself to abandon this animal to die slowly and painfully while lodged in the ground. Besides, it was just one hare, wasn’t it? And it wasn’t like it had been caught by a predator, or something. It must’ve got its foot caught by accident; this was simply a terrible stroke of bad luck. If you freed it, it could go on to be eaten by a fox or wolf. Better that than to just die and freeze solid.

Using your ice pick, you carefully went behind the completely still creature. You were impressed by its dedication to stay totally still even when you were close enough to potentially reach out and stroke its fur. You had to be careful it didn’t spin around and bite you - you gently chipped away at the ice, extremely cautious not to catch its tiny bony leg. The entire time you dug, the hare was as still as the ice itself, unable to shake its instinctive need to stay small.

It really didn’t take long at all. A few careful draws of the sharp end of your axe against the compacted ice... and suddenly, like a gunshot going off, the animal sprinted away from you. Its powerful legs sent up a spray of snow, some of which went straight into your eyes - by the time you staggered to your feet, hurriedly wiped your face, sputtered and looked back up again, the hare was completely out of sight.

... Well. That was definitely a story to tell. You sighed, grabbing your bag and hoisting it back over your shoulder. At least -

- splashing?

Your head snapped toward the sea, in the direction of the sound. Against the total silence of the icy glassy sea, the splashing was loud, loud enough for you to hear it several metres away from the beach. It sounded frantic, almost aggressive. What the hell? What was going on today? You pushed your hearing protection onto your head, and half-ran-half-jogged toward the shoreline. The bare rock, grass and drifts of stubborn snow sloped away into loose pebbles that crunched and slid underfoot, mirrorlike water lapping slowly at the tide line only a few metres away. Lumps of ice, mini-glaciers of their own, floated silently and ominously by. This was water that would easily kill you if you fell in.

You scanned the shoreline, searching visually for the source of the noise you’d heard only moments ago - and soon you caught movement in the corner of your eye, just around a ‘corner’ caused by a rocky outcropping that jutted up a little higher than the rest of the landscape. Behind the outcropping, you could see large ripples spreading out, fast and random like something was fighting just behind where you could see. It was easy to pick up, considering the rest of the shoreline was so millpond still. 

Immediately, you jumped into action, running across the pebbled beach and scrambling up and onto the rock face. You weren’t even sure what you were expecting to see. Was it a person in distress?

... Except you could instantly tell it wasn’t a person, when the hidden section of the beach came into view, and you immediately saw a massive sleek outline that was easily twice as big as a person. It was for sure some kind of animal. But it took you a few crucial seconds of mind-whirring confusion to figure out what it was.

... Oh my stars. You ducked slightly, as if that would help.

It was a skeleton orca siren. A huge one. Partially beached, right there on the shore.

You couldn’t believe what you were seeing. All the breath left your chest at once. An skeleton orca siren, right before your eyes, bigger than you ever could’ve imagined, arching white markings and strong bones unmarred by any scars that could show a loss. Its sockets were sharpened with frustration - its body was against the shore at an angle, you could tell from how its tail was still able to cause those waves that the sea probably deepened extremely suddenly. It was thrashing, clawed hands digging into the ground, the force of its thrashing sending up showers of both stone and sea. 

Your breaths were controlled. The closest you had ever gotten to seeing a siren before was spotting their distant tiny shapes breaching near your boat, or the blurry low-quality images from underwater cameras. You’d never seen one in person so close you could touch it.

Clearly, you weren’t all that sneaky. Its rounded skeletal face whipped around, and razor-like white eyelights in pitch dark sockets landed on you.

Both of you were the rabbit this time. You froze, all your hair standing on end, nerves prickling. The siren froze too, waves stopping, it glared your way. At least... you felt like it was glaring. It was impossible to tell, its skeletal features were devoid of any of the usual emotional tells you relied upon. Whatever it was thinking, it was definitely staring, claws curling into the ground. Just its arms, twice the thickness of yours, could almost definitely snap your body in half.

Man. Chills spread across your whole body. Good fucking thing you put your hearing protection in, huh? 

You took a slow moment to take it all in. From the shape of the dorsal fin, you could tell it was male; male orca had a tall, almost triangular fin, while females had a much more sloped and curved appendage. Those sharp white eyelights cut into you, he was taking in you just as you took in him, clearly analysing every part of you. There was something so terrifying about his gaze - the eyes of a predator.

He watched you. He seemed... alert. Very very alert. 

...

Your heart was thundering in your ears, the only sound you could hear in your hearing protection. You unglamorously pulled yourself over the rock outcropping, scrabbling down it, and - against all advice you’d read before - approached.

He was beached. You had to at least see if you could help, right? It was one thing to have an inner battle about leaving a hare to die, it was another when the potential victim was a creature just as intelligent and sentient and aware as a person. He was laid at an angle, but still laid, the highest point of his back coming up to about your ribs. He had lost the advantage of movement. You nearly tripped over yourself as you moved closer, nervous feet skidding in the loose rocks.

... As you approached, he seemed to get... calmer? His eyesockets lost their sharpness, his eyelights grew in size. It was the opposite of what you anticipated. He wasn’t any less intimidating, though, no less scary. Your eyes kept darting to his teeth.

“How the hell did you manage to do this?” you asked, though you weren’t expecting a response, unable to hear even your own voice through the protection. “Where’s the rest of your pod, you dumbass?”

Was he smiling at you? Surely not. You dropped your bag to the floor, a few feet from him, digging through it until you pulled out your thick waterproof overclothing. Some other items tumbled out as you removed the gear but you paid them no mind. The waterproof outfit was like a boilersuit, it could be put on over the top of your other items and zipped to create a (theoretically) waterproof layer. Normally, it was a pain in the ass to get on, but you felt that you were on a time crunch and had somehow manifested almost superhuman speed.

You zipped up the suit, now protected in case you got wet. The closer you moved to him, the more you wished you had time to stop and fully admire him. The water on his bones and skin made him almost appear like he was shimmering. 

“... Ok,” you said, despite not being able to hear your own words, “easy big guy. Don’t bite. I’m just trying to help. I’ll get you back in the sea, and then I’ll go back to the land, and we can go on our way.”

He didn’t say anything. Because of course he didn’t, he was a siren, why did that thought even cross your mind? You blinked and shook your head, as if dispelling the thoughts physically. Of course he couldn’t talk. Something about his face felt so intelligent, somewhere deep down you had seemingly decided he could understand every word you said. And even if he did speak, it wasn’t like that’d be of any use to you. 

Something about him was eerily calm, even as you moved around him, coming close enough to his side to be within touching distance. Surely, a stranded creature like him would be thrashing and fighting when you came nearer, just like the hare? Surely he’d be making angry, earsplitting sounds that you’d be able to feel in your chest? The wind was picking up, tussling your hair. The siren stayed perfectly calm. 

“... I’m... I’m gonna need to touch you. Ok?”

...

... You reached out, and traced his skin with the tips of your fingers, extremely gently. It was cold. You immediately pulled back, turning and watching his face.

You expected something. Anything. A jump, a twitch, a lurch. Maybe even an attempt to fight you off. You expected him to swing around; hell, you expected him to even look at you. Any kind of a measurement of his reaction to you. Your legs were itching to leap back and flee.

But there was... nothing. No response from him at all. 

You came in again, this time putting your palm against his back, just beside his fin. It felt like electricity was running up your arm.

Nothing. Like he didn’t even care you were there. He was looking over his shoulder at you with a bizarrely soft look. Like he wanted you there. You felt very, very strange. This wasn’t at all what you were thinking would happen.

It felt like such a naive thing to even consider, but maybe... maybe he knew you were trying to help? 

Well, you didn’t have time to ponder the implications or reasons. You knew he was alright with physical contact. Now, you needed to figure out a way to get him back into the water.

You started by trying to pull - it only made sense, right? It kept you away from his front half, where the damage could be done. You looped your hands around the strong muscular base of his fin, using it like an anchor, digging your feet into the stones and throwing your whole weight backward. There was an extremely faint rocking of his body, literally about as much movement as someone trying to pull a car and only succeeding in making it bounce. Unperturbed, you tried again, pulling as hard as you could -

- the loose stones slid out from beneath your shoes. It kicked up the smell of wet seaweed and salt; if you hadn’t had your hands on his fin, your legs would’ve gone out from under you.

“Fuck,” you said breathlessly.

Did the siren laugh? Your head whipped around, he was looking ahead again. You felt like you saw his body move. 

... It must’ve been some other kind of vocalisation. You stood and turned around, trying again, this time pushing with your hands braced against the same spot. You pushed as hard as you could, nearly forgetting to breathe out, feeling your shoulders and wrists starting to twinge in pain. 

Once again, before you could make any meaningful progress, the force of your body made the slippery stones dislodge. You stumbled, all but falling flat onto his back, regaining yourself last minute and turning and looking over your shoulder at the siren’s head. 

“You just gonna sit there and stare at me?” you asked, breathless and only half joking.

He was looking back. You really really got the feeling he was smiling at you. 

You tried to push again, since it felt more solid than pulling. Yet everything you tried, the stones dislodged. The ground itself was fighting you. Frustrated, you dug your boot into the stones, trying to dig down and see if there was sand underneath, but there was just more and more loose wet rocks. Like the beach was making fun of you.

... Wait.

You thought back to the hare. Chipping at the ice around its leg.

You let go of him, scurrying back to your bag, then returning just as quickly with your pick in hand. The siren cast you a questioning glance, but still did absolutely nothing to stop your nonsense. Quickly, you dropped to your knees by his side, holding the pick by the head and jamming the wooden handle into the pebbles around where his tail met the floor. They came loose, of course.

You dug fast, using big scooping motions to pull the rocks out further each time. When you found a particularly large and difficult stone you flipped the pick and used the sharp edge to hoist it out of the ground. Seawater would occasionally slip into the gap you’d made, as the tide made the most minute waves you’d ever seen.

Excitedly, you ran around the siren, to dig on the opposite side. You didn’t notice how you ran perfectly within range of his arms, yet you dropped to his other side unharmed.

Your knees hurt. You were certain they’d be bruised. But you kept digging, and digging. You weren’t really doing anything more complex than making a ramp underneath him - but you were excited and flushed nonetheless, tired muscles full of hopeful vigour.

Suddenly, his tail splashed, you felt his whole body moving like an earthquake. You jumped away as far as you could, this time successfully falling flat on your ass - just like that, the siren drew away from you, moving backward into the water as he regained his grip and pushed himself. You were shocked by the speed and agility with which his huge body turned... and how he almost instantly disappeared, under the waves.

Holy shit, you thought, heaving, finally letting go of the pick as you stared out into the rapidly calming waters. It was like he’d never even been there. I actually... I actually did it. I just unbeached a siren. I...

Speaking of waves. Exhaustion, like a sudden tsunami, washed over you. Your shoulders sagged and your knees screamed in pain, you lifted your hands up to your face to see you had great crescents of red irritated skin on your palms. You were probably going to get blisters. 

... The cold started to finally twinge at your fingers. You managed to draw yourself up to your feet, but you flopped right back down to your knees once you made it to your bag. 

You opened it up, looking for your gloves, a lovely warm feeling filling your chest.

Amongst the dry kit, you saw your camera bag.

...

Wait. Your eyes widened.

... You forgot to take a picture. 

Welp - that was the lovely feeling gone. Immediately, you let out a frustrated shout, falling onto your back and putting your hands over your face. You forgot to take a picture. What a fucking moron! You’d just been closer than almost anyone ever to a massive orca siren, and you hadn’t even thought to get your camera out. He’d literally been a sitting duck, you could’ve photographed every side of him, every scar and mark, stars you could’ve filmed a segment for your channel. But the idea hadn’t even crossed your mind, you’d been so determined to save him. 

You’d probably never get another situation like this in your whole life. The universe threw the greatest possible chance at you. And you blew it.

... You dragged your hands down your face, staring up at the mottled sky. It wasn’t yet sunset, but you could tell the sun was beginning to inch toward it. If you wanted to film you’d have to do it right now.

...

... You couldn’t tell anyone back at the station about this. You folded your arm over your eyes. They wouldn’t believe you; they discover your ‘conspiratorial’ beliefs, tease you about it, you leave in a huff and then you conveniently come back a few hours later with an elaborate story about how you unbeached an adult orca siren? Yet strangely, you have absolutely no proof of the matter, despite having a camera on your person the whole time? You weren’t even sure if your followers would believe it. Sure, they’d believe you encountered a siren. But unlike what the rest of the world wanted to think, they absolutely weren’t stupid - they’d be hard pressed to believe you RESCUED the animal and didn’t think to record.

Eventually, you sat up. You were really and truly gutted. But there was no point fretting; not when you had daylight to use.

Might as well just get some of that B-roll.

///---///

Looking at the comments was always nice. When you weren’t busy, and couldn’t get outside, your second favourite thing to do was scroll through the comments on your videos. Of course you always got the occasional idiots who called you nuts, but those were few and far between, most were people being sweet or recounting their own experiences that you always read with complete rapture. 

You imagined some might find it hard to believe that being tucked up in your tiny warm station room was your second favourite activity. Walking around in the wind and cold was much more fun. But that, of course, didn’t mean you didn’t enjoy curling up on your desk chair with a blanket and a mug of tea while reading people’s encouraging responses to your passion projects.

You’d only posted your most recent video, the one about your siren encounter, about an hour ago. You scrolled, delighting in the serotonin that came with having an active comment section.

... Eventually, you came across a longer one that caught your eye. You paused sipping your tea to read it.

@bluesaphii1996

I grew up somewhere where we constantly see sirens in our waters. I absolutely believe you saw a siren, because I’m like 99% certain I can see a siren in the sea behind you at 14:51. Look just to the left of your shoulder, about 2/3s of the way between the beach line and the horizon. Its head pops up for a second before it rolls in the water and dives again. Either that or it's a VERY weird seal. But I’ve seen enough sirens to recognise their behaviour. That siren is 100% watching you when your back is turned. Be safe!!

...

You had to read the comment three times over. 

Huh? What? 

Immediately, sitting up and setting your mug aside, you clicked back over to your video and skipped to the timestamp in question. In that part of the video, you had set up your tripod, and you were talking to the camera with the sea behind you. You stared hard at the screen.

... You weren’t really used to looking at the ocean. You were pretty certain that someone who grew up by the sea would be a lot better at seeing strange movements in the water than you were. 

But sure enough, just like the commenter had said, you could just about make out a shape in the water. It broke the surface, then disappeared down again.

You had literally put your hands against that siren. You’d know it anywhere. That was definitely him; watching you from the water, many minutes after you’d rescued him and he could’ve swam far away. 

...

You sat back in your chair. You weren’t entirely sure how you were supposed to feel about that.

... Probably not excitement. 

You just couldn’t help it. A massive grin was spreading across your face. You were absolutely, utterly delighted.

Despite everything, you did get him on camera!

[dycefic]

The Hearthstone God

[The sequel to the God of Prophecy, and the Serpent God of Protection]

---

Fire is out of fashion, in this new age.

Some of my kind have found new homes, new names, in factories or forges, in the hearts of wildfires or crystals or volcanoes.

Most of us are simply forgotten.

I was a fire god, once. A god of gathering, a god of communion, a god of song and story. But there are no hearthstones now. No fires around which families gather to eat and talk and tell stories.

I am lucky. I am tied to a great flat stone near a lake. A lake that has survived all the wild exuberance of men, when they learned to change the world around them. Once, this was a place where travellers stopped to rest. At first they travelled on their feet, or on half-wild horses. Then there were carts, and a road. Much later, cars drove down the road. The road was paved.

But some things do not change. People need clean water to drink, and the spring here is good. They need to rest, when they are weary. And even now, when they come to camp in nylon tents, to fish in the lake, or to hunt the ducks, or drive camper-vans to the flat place, their ancient instincts wake, and they turn to fire once more. They light new fires atop my stone, so flat and safe, from which no log will roll to set the woods afire.

Not so many come now. Camping is less popular these days. But some still come. Some still light their fires, and settle around my stone, and talk, or listen to music, or tell stories. So I survive, just barely, on the edges of belief.

I feel it, when things begin to change. Something is happening. Something is drawing old gods back. Not the great ones, risen beyond mortal understanding, but the oldest gods, the small gods, those who rose when humankind were still learning what they were.

Far to the west of me, a god even more ancient than I wakes, and begins to hunt again. I remember the stories that were once told of that old serpent, and tell them over to myself in the long fireless nights.

A god of prophecy, not of this land, settles south and west, and I remember tales of ancient ravens, their wisdom and their guile and their sharp, sharp eyes. There was a raven clan once, who passed this way in the days of skin garments and stone tools, but I have forgotten their name. I only remember the symbol they wore, the black bird with its spread wings, marked in charcoal or charring on wooden talismans or leather garments.

I wait, to see who will awaken next.

To my great surprise, it is me.

The people who come this time aren’t like the campers. They come at night, a ragged family group with few blood ties between them, with a single tent and few possessions carried on devices I haven’t seen before. Bicycles, they’re called, slung over with bags the way ponies used to be. They come at night, and hide when cars pass on the road.

They light a fire on my stone, with wood scavenged from the forest, and huddle around its warmth. They don’t speak much, not at first, but they say enough. They have no home, I learn. They are travellers of a kind I have not known before, who are allowed to stop nowhere, but have no goal but a place to rest. They are thin, and worn, and so tired. So very tired.

They need a hearth.

I am only a weak shadow of a god, now, who once recorded the songs and stories of a thousand generations in my ancient stone, but I am still a god of fire. Their fire burns slow, their little fuel lasting well. The food they heat over it sustains them better. The water of that spring, my spring, puts a little life back in them. This stone has lain in this place since great monsters walked this world, since before humans spoke words to one another, and I came into being with the first fire that burned on it. I am old, old, and though weak, I am not powerless.

They stay.

I cannot speak to them. I am old, and weak, and they do not believe. But slowly, with the power of the fires they build every night, with the tiny offerings of scraps of food spilled into the flames, with their growing confidence in the safety of this place, I am able to do more. I give them dreams and they find the cave not far away, where they can hide. They dream of fish, and begin to try to catch some. A woman remembers that some of the local plants are safe to eat, when I slowly wake a long-forgotten memory of a camping trip from her childhood.

And then a child, a strange, quiet child who rarely speaks, a child without mother or father, in the care of an older brother who is exhausted to the very edge of death but cannot give up while she needs him… that child begins to hear.

She sits on my stone, sometimes for hours, not moving or speaking. It worries the others, but at least she is quiet, at least she is no trouble, and they are beginning to associate their hearth with safety. So they let her sit.

She is *listening*. She is listening to the sound of the water, to the sounds of the forest, to the wind blowing. And because she is listening, where no-one else has listened for so long, I sing to her. I sing to her the songs of thousands of years. From the wordless music of the earliest people, who sang what was in their hearts without words, to the songs I have learned from the fishermen with their radios and bluetooth speakers.

I do not know if she hears me, for some time. But then, one night, while they sit around their fire and eat food the oldest have almost certainly stolen, she sings one of my songs. “In a cavern… on a canyon… excavating for a mine…” she sings in a small voice. The others are startled, confused, for she has not spoken aloud since some bad thing they do not name happened, but one of the older ones knows the song and sings with her.

I have always liked ‘Clementine’. It’s been popular with campers for a long time.

The next day, while she sits on my stone, she sings along to one of the wordless songs the Raven People whose name I no longer remember once sang. It is a lullaby, a soft croon to soothe an infant, passed from mother to mother, and she seems to take pleasure in it.

She can hear me. She can even answer me, as the voice driven away by pain and fear begins to return. And so I grow stronger still. Strong enough to make the raven sign on the stone, one day, in the ashes of the fire of the night before.

She takes a half burned stick, and draws the sign on the stone. Pleased, I show her another sign, a leaping fish. She draws that too.

Soon, I need not shift the ashes. I can show her the pictures in her mind, and she draws them. She draws the wheel of a cart, and into her heart I whisper the stories the travellers in covered wagons once told over my stone. She draws a fish, and I make her laugh silently with the jests of fishermen who boast of fish who escaped them. She draws a horse, and I tell her about the wild horses who once drank at this lake, about the men and women who captured and tamed them and rode them through the forest when it was far greater than it is now. She draws a long-toothed cat, and I show her the great cat that once slept on my stone, and denned in the cave where her new found family sleep.

One night, when all the others are asleep and my fire has burned down to coals, she creeps back to the stone and looks into the coals. “Who are you?” she asks. “Are you real?”

She is afraid that the voice in her mind is the voice of madness, a lie created by a mind that does not work like other minds, that has endured great hardship. I do not want this child to be afraid. To instill fear runs counter to my very nature, save in whoever might threaten those my hearth protects.

I am a god of the hearth. I am a god of food, and communication, and peace, and safety. I am all the things that fire used to mean, before humans learned again to fear the thing they had tamed. I do not often take a form, for fire is my form, but for her I must try.

There was a wise woman once, who knew me, whose clan visited this lake several times every year. I watched her grow up, and grow old. I watched her learn of the god of the fire stone, and I watched her teach others. She slept beside me as a child, and as a woman. She sang her children to sleep beside me, and her grandchildren, and dozed beside me as an old, old woman. To her, I was represented by a sign of a flame in an oval, a fire and a stone.

I build a likeness of her out of the light of the coals and the shadows of smoke, a child with straight dark hair and a simple tunic, and in lines of light I draw the sign of the fire and the stone on the outlined chest. “I am the fire,” I tell her, “and the stone. I am all the fires that have ever burned here, all the stories told, all the songs sung, all the meals eaten. I am the traveler’s hearth, and the rest for the weary, and this is my place.”

“Piedra de fuego,” she says, tracing the symbol with her finger in the air. “The fire stone.”

“Yes. I am the god of this place.”

She frowns at this. “My brother says that God is in the sky.”

“Many gods are in the sky.” I cannot continue to hold the form of the girl, but the coals shift to make my sign. “I am not. I am here. I have always been here, since the first people built a fire on my stone, and warmed themselves.”

She nods slowly. “You are… a small god,” she says thoughtfully. “A place god. Like in movies.”

“Yes.” I’ve heard of movies, which are a new way of telling old, old stories. “Old places, important places, often have gods. And gods who are forgotten return to their old places and wait, until someone believes again.”

“Will you protect us?” she asks. “When the police come, to tell us to move on?”

“I am not strong,” I tell her sadly. “I cannot make men go away from here, if they are dangerous, or even call game here for you as I once did. But what I can do, I will do.”

She sits watching the coals for a long time, thinking. “Can we make you stronger?”

I think too, and she waits patiently. “You have already made me stronger. You listened. You believed. If you can convince the others to believe, that will make me stronger still.”

She sighed. “They don’t believe in anything, anymore. Not good things.”

It is a sad thing, that she knows that. They’ve been trying to hide it from her. “Then,” I tell her, “that means there is a place in their hearts that is ready for me. I am not hope. I am not a happy ending. I am not a god in the sky. I am a stone, and a fire, and a song. I am *real*. They can believe in what is real.”

The next night, she asks for a story, and one of the adults tells her an old fairy-tale from a country far away.

The next night, again, she asks for a story, and another adult tells a funny story about his childhood.

On the third night, she asks her brother to tell her a story. He tries, but he is so tired - not physically, but emotionally - that he runs out of words. So she lays her hand on his arm and offers to tell him a story, instead.

And she tells them all a story about a stone near a lake, flat and strong, that people wearing uncured skins and carrying flint weapons built a fire on. She tells of centuries passing, of people coming to the lake on their feet, on horses, in carts and wagons, in cars and motor-homes. Of thousands of years of fires, of people gathered around them, of the great continuity of humanity, and the Piedra De Fuego that has lain in this place since time began, listening to the stories and the songs and the voices of people long gone. Somewhere in the stone, she says, laying her hand on it, all those stories are remembered. All those songs are still sung. And it will remember us too.

I don’t know if it will work. But I was right. People need to believe in something. They need something to hold onto, when times are hard, when the ties of community and family are broken and they feel alone. And a stone thousands of years old, and a fire endlessly renewed on that stone, always new… that is real. They touch me, and think of those who came before, of thousands of years of history meeting them in this place, and they feel less alone.

It’s not much, not yet. But it is something. My nature, my existence, as explained to them by my small, strange priestess, is a slender lifeline flung to those who are adrift, a tiny certainty in a world they do not trust. And the more they believe in that lifeline, that certainty, then the more they believe in me. I *am* growing stronger.

When the police come, I will not be able to make them leave… but I think I am strong enough now to hide my people from unkind eyes. And if I can do that, then their faith will grow.

Tonight, three more people come. A mother and two children, weary and beaten down with hardship. My people welcome them, give them fish and greens grown by the lake, speak kindly to them. And when they have eaten, my little priestess sits between the two children and tells them a story of a stone, and a fire, and thousands of years of stories and songs, and she sings a wordless lullaby six thousand years forgotten, but living again in a child who draws the sign of the Raven in the dirt while she sings, and the sign of the fire on the stone.

And I grow a little stronger.

[thecharacterchronicler]

District Girl || (Peacekeeper) Coriolanus Snow x Reader

Outline: In district 12, peacekeeper Coriolanus Snow catches you sneaking past the fence. Thankfully for you, he accepts when you offer him a special arrangement in exchange of his silence.

Word count: 2’700

Warnings: power imbalance, consensual coercion (if that’s a thing), explicit smut.

(( Part 2 )) - (( Part 3 ))

It had been a long day. The sun was shining bright in the sky and yet, the air was saturated with humidity, making it hard to breathe. His peacekeeper uniform and gear felt heavy. He had showered before leaving the barracks and was already sweating again, adding to his discomfort with the already constant humidity. He hated it here. He hated everything, from the weather to the decaying buildings and the miners walking around with dirty clothes and faces. More than once had he thought about deserting his job, running back to the Capitol where people could manage to maintain a semblance of elegance and dignity, even while starving. But his family were the only people who would welcome him back home, he had nowhere else to go, and illegally deserting would put not only him but his cousin and grandmother in trouble. So he bite down on the inside of his cheek, tasting blood, as he once more gathered courage to keep going.

He had been asked to patrol the outskirts of District 12 for the rest of the afternoon. Smiley had been assigned the same task, covering the eastern part of the border while Coriolanus took care of the west. Without his bunkmates and colleagues to entertain him, time went by slowly. He walked along the tall fence that bordered the district, separating the village and the mines from a vast expanse of tall grass and trees in the distance. He found himself wondering what was hidden behind the forest, if there were other people somewhere that the Capitol didn’t know about. Maybe district 12 would have been nicer if it had included that large and lush landscape within its borders, the idea of patrolling under the shade of the trees seeming a lot more pleasant than doing it under the scorching sun. Maybe there even was a stream of fresh water meandering through the trees or better yet, a lake of cold water in which he could dive in and finally get rid of the beads of sweat that never seemed to leave his forehead, not since he had stepped in this foreign place.

His imagination running wild with ways to make his new home more bearable, he almost missed it. That movement in the corner of his eye, that trail of trampled grass leading to the fence… He turned around to see a silhouette, crouching down to enter the limit of the district from under broken wires he hadn’t even noticed when he had walked passed it a few minutes earlier. A trespasser. But were you an intruder or just a rule breaker ?

“Hey!” He shouted, the authority in his tone surprising both you and him. You lifted your head, eyes widening as you saw him and tried to hurry but the hem of your skirt was hooked to a sharp piece of wire that didn’t seem to want to let you go that easily.

His hand went to his belt, where his weapon was ready to be pulled out in case you were some kind of threat. Even if you didn’t look like it, Coriolanus knew better than to trust people, especially the people of District 12.

You didn’t want to get in trouble. All you wanted was to go back to your shack and forget about this encounter. You had heard enough terrible stories about peacekeepers to know you needed to avoid them at all cost. And mostly, you knew you had to be weary of the new ones like him, the ones who didn’t make deals and trades in exchange of turning an blind eye to whatever the citizens of your district needed to do in order to survive.

He was getting closer. Dangerously closer. And although he was walking slowly, almost carefully in your direction, you had noticed how his long fingers were just inches away from his weapon, ready to grab it and use it on you. So you decided to sacrifice your skirt, even though you didn’t own another one, and ran off, hearing the sound of the fabric tearing apart.

Coriolanus didn’t expect you to run. Where would you go anyway ? He had caught you breaking the law, he knew what you looked like, he wasn’t going to let you get out of it so easily. If he had to abide to rules he clearly didn’t want to follow, do a job he hated and was forced to live in this depressing area just because he was meant to face the consequences of his actions in the Capitol, you would have to face yours too.

He ran after you, easily catching up on you with his tall legs. And, since you weren’t making it easy for him, refusing to stop and comply, he grabbed you by the arm and yanked you back, a scream escaping your lips in reaction.

“Please, let me go.” You begged. “I wasn’t doing anything wrong, I was looking for food past the fence to feed my family.”

He listened. He even understood. He too had struggled to find food for himself and his family a few years back. He knew what it felt like to be hungry. And he knew how it hurt to see your loved ones starving too. However, the people of the districts deserved it. It was the consequences of their actions, a fair turn of the tables that they were the ones knowing poverty now. And hopefully, it would only get worse from now on. They needed to know that they were nothing without the Capitol. And they needed to know that their reckless behavior would cause the downfall of their own people.

He held both of your wrists together in your back, his free hand pressing against the back of your neck to make you walk forward. He wasn’t sure what your punishment would be for trespassing and frankly he didn’t care, the only thing that really mattered was that his superiors would at least notice that he was a good element, if not the best one they had.

You kept begging him for freedom, explaining yourself and assuring him that your escapade to the woods wasn’t a threat in any way to the government but he stayed stoic, still walking you in direction of the peacekeepers’ barracks with your hands held painfully tight in your back.

As the austere buildings came in sight, you decided to fight back, abruptly trying to free yourself from his grip. It took him by surprise and you managed to run forward, all the way to a narrow path by the side of the barracks before he caught you again. He grabbed you with both hands this time, pushing you against the stone wall of the building with your arms held above your head. He was close, his broad shoulders blocking your view of everything else but him. His body was a fence you wouldn’t be able to cross, it was trapping you against the wall, leaving you helpless and at his mercy and he did not looked pleased.

“I promise I won’t do it again.” You said, knowing as well as he did that it was a lie. “I’m going home to tell my family that I haven’t found anything for them to eat today, isn’t that enough of a punishment ?”

Coriolanus’s pale blue eyes stared at you, visibly conflicted. He knew that feeling all too well. And indeed, it was a sufficient punishment in his opinion. An even more cruel one than anything his superiors might have in store for you. However, he couldn’t just let you go like this, not when you had been such a pain to catch. You had interrupted his quiet stroll along the fence, you had made him run under the scorching sun, you didn’t deserve that much mercy.

“Please, I’ll do anything.” You said, making sure he would notice the implications you put in your last word, staring right back at him as suggestively as you could. You knew peacekeepers were easily convinced by the prospect of a bit a fun with a woman since they didn’t get to have that much of it while in service. It was a good way to get out of trouble. And this peacekeeper in particular was handsome enough to make you slightly nervous at the idea of him accepting what you tried to suggest.

Coriolanus wasn’t sure what to think. Or do. For a moment, he wasn’t even sure he had heard you correctly at all, getting lost in your beautiful eyes instead of focusing on your words. Maybe such close proximity to a woman was messing with his head, it had been a while after all. In fact, he had never been that physically close to anyone before and the fact that he had you pinned down against the wall, holding so much power over you made all his blood instantly rush down to his cock. There was something deeply satisfying at the thought that he could do whatever he pleased with you. Especially there, concealed from the other peacekeepers that might be leaving or entering the barracks, with nothing in his back but the fence, he could do anything and no one would know.

“Do we have a deal ?” You asked him, arching your back enough for your hips to brush against his, bringing his attention - and yours - to the impressive bulge that had formed in his pants.

Oh, it was wrong. So wrong. He shouldn’t even consider it, he should do his job and bring you to his superiors as he had been instructed to do in such circumstances but there was something about you that made him hesitate. Maybe it was how short your skirt was now, with half of it still stuck in the fence, it revealed more of your body than you were comfortable with and he definitely liked what he saw. The curves of your body, the shape of you, your lovely face… You were so different from the others. If he could have Tigris design some fashionable clothes for you and arrange your hair, you could look like a girl from the Capitol. One that he could be interested in…

But you were a girl from the filthy and barbaric district 12 and he was a peacekeeper.

“Deal.” He breathed, taking unexpected pride in the way your cheeks turned red at his word. You had never been so shy in front of a peacekeeper before, maybe it was because he was too handsome for words or maybe it was because he had an odd elegance to him that intrigued you, made you want to know who he was and where he came from. But you’d have to wait to indulge your curiosity with small talk, you had the end of a deal to hold and you actually felt pretty eager to get it done.

His breath caught in his throat when you dropped to your knees in front of him, your hands still held up above your head by one of his, yet no longer all pressed up against the wall. He easily opened his pants with his free hand, pulling out his already hard erection for you. Your hands moved, instinctively wanting to close your fingers around his cock but he held them back, still tightly in his grip.

“You won’t need them.” He told you, meeting your eyes. You quietly nodded and opened your mouth as wide as you could, letting him decide what to do next.

Still with one hand, he guided his cock past your pretty lips, the sensation of his sensitive skin gliding on your soft tongue almost ending him on the spot. He wasn’t prepared for how warm and wet it would feel, how his shaft would slide so perfectly all the way until his tip touched the back of your throat, making you gag.

You bopped your head for him, creating friction, having him slide back and forth in your mouth while you also focused on your breathing to avoid gagging too often. His eyes were clouded with intense pleasure when he closed them, letting you take care of him without opposing much resistance.

Fuck, it felt good. Especially when you took him down your throat, his whole cock fitting inside your mouth and your soft lips enclosing the base. He liked the way your cheeks were still colored pink, how your eyes watered from how big he was to swallow and how incredibly arousing it was to have you on your knees in front of him. A moment before you were a rebel, a reckless girl breaking the rules regardless of the punishment you might face and now, he had you tamed and compliant as he slowly fucked your mouth.

But maybe It was a bit too slow. Once the excitement of the new sensations he felt died down, there was only one thing he could think about; relief. That intense pleasure that you had carefully built in the pit of his stomach was begging for release, to explode on your tongue so that he could fill your mouth with his cum. He wondered if you would swallow it all, compliant til the very end or if you’d let it past your lips, drip on your chin and clothes like a very visible sign that he had marked you as his.

He was too eager to find out. He wanted to see for himself, feel how gloriously good it was going to be once his pleasure would splash out of him. So he stepped forward, forcing you back to the wall, hands still pinned up. You had no room left to move your head anymore and it was exactly what he wanted, thrusting his cock inside you himself instead. His rythym was fast and merciless, making you gag and feel breathless. His pushes forward were strong and quick, and soon, you felt his warm release drip down your throat, as his eratic movements finally came to a stop.

His cock was still twitching, spitting out white cum when he pulled it out of your mouth to allow you to breathe again, drops falling down on your chin and chest. He was breathless too, and the hunger you saw in his eyes as he stared at the drop of his cum that was slowly rolling downwards on your chest made you wonder if he was going to ask for more. He sure looked like he was ready to give it another go, right there and now.

But he unexpectedly released your wrists instead, taking a step back to arrange his still hard cock back inside his pants. With the blood finally rushing back down your arms, you tried to stand up. To your surprise, the peacekeeper held a hand out for you, helping you back up like a gentleman would.

You both stared into each other’s eyes for a moment. You wanted to ask him where his manners came from, and why he wasn’t using them to navigate high society instead of being here but you couldn’t find the courage to say anything at all. There were many questions he wanted to ask you too, starting with asking for your name, but he refrained from saying anything, knowing it was better if he kept his distances. The last thing he wanted was to fall for a district girl.

You fled without a word but granting him a smile and he let you, memorizing the way your perfect body looked like in that torn skirt you probably were going to throw away now, wondering if he’d ever get to take a peek underneath your clothes.

When he went out that night with his friends, he didn’t mention you even though he knew it would have earned him the admiration of his roommates. And when he wasn’t able to fall asleep once in his bed, his mind flooded with all the possibilities of what else he could do to you - if he ever got another chance to - he ended up sneaking out of the barracks and walking back to the fence in the middle of the night, to retrieve the piece of your skirt that was still dangling in the wind, hooked to the wire meant to keep everyone in.

[m1d-45]

Hello! It's a new anon here!

My name is Baby Cat/Out of pocket anon!

If I may, a SAGAU Aether x GN! Reader who has a mortal form that is has similarities to the divine creator but not enough to be confused as an imposter.

I'll clarify a bit, Aether dosent know that his beloved is actually the divine one, but instead thinks that they have simply been blessed with part of their beauty. Tevyat dosent know the creator has descended and is waiting, meanwhile Aether has the creator in mortal form as his darling partner.

-Baby Cat anon

P.S! My cat Duckie has recently warmed up to a new person!

a new tomorrow

a/n: ignore my dogwater schedule i have not written like at all for the past 2-3 weeks ahahah (also this is isn’t very romantic coded but i already hate this piece so my bad g)

word count: ~3k

-> warnings: canon-typical violence, microscopic spoilers for liyue story quest ig

-> gn reader (you/yours)

taglist: @samarill || @thenyxsky || @valeriele3 || @shizunxie || @boba-is-a-soup || @yuus3n || @esthelily || @turningfrogsgay || @cupandtea24

< masterlist > || next part >>

when you’d first arrived in teyvat, you had fully expected to die, in honesty.

you were up on the top of starsnatch cliff, and had nearly fallen off in your initial panic if not for a sharp wind and a lucky break. you were much more mindful of where you walked after that, but mondstat was littered with impossible cliffs, and your memory of the area was sharply diminished when you didn’t have a little circle in the corner of your screen to remind you where you were.

you grabbed a few low-hanging sunsettias as you walked, making your way across a nondescript patch of grass. your plan was to just eat them as-is, but after a moments more thought into the idea, perhaps washing them first would be wiser. according to your memory, there were four main bodies of water: a lake and waterfall further north, the ocean to the east, cider lake to the west, and the state of the seven… somewhere.

the lake was surrounded by hilichurls and was a bit too close to the anemo hypostasis for your liking, the ocean was a no for obvious reasons, and cider lake didn’t seem like a particularly good idea, not to mention the only closest access to it you could think of was surrounded by hilichurls.

so, the statue of the seven it is. the only problem, of course, was that you had no idea where you were.

you tried to keep track at first, but then you had to climb down from one too many cliffs and had to take one too many detours around impossible ones, and now you were blindly walking. you could tell by the dense forest and the small lamp grass that you were somewhere in the whispering woods, but the thin path you were following have no indication of your direction. you hoped, of course, that you were headed north, but you didn’t know how to tell. the three sunsettias in your arms looked more tempting by the minute, but you were determined to clean them first. not only would that help you get your bearings again, but you’d lower the risk of whatever diseases were native to teyvat.

…which was something to consider further, in truth. your body wasn’t native, and hadn’t grown up with and developed an immunity to the bacteria here. would you get sick? had you already, and just had to wait until the symptoms developed? should you be more worried than you were?

the path around you was opening up, but you were too busy worrying to bother look up. what were the long-term effects of staying in teyvat? would you be intolerant or allergic to the foods here, because your body wasn’t used to processing them? what were the long term effects of-

“watch out!”

would you find out at all?

you looked over your right shoulder, at the voice that had called, and barely get a glimpse of bright gold before something white covers your vision, tiny hands pulling at your shirt.

“come on,” a high voice says, “follow paimon! let’s get away from the trouble.”

paimon-?

you stumble along with her, letting her take you further into what you now recognize as windrise. damn, wrong way.

“ooh, are those sunsettias?” you notice she’s blocking my your view of whatever’s behind her, likely the traveller and some enemies if you had to guess, judging by her presence and the sounds of metal on wood. “they look really fresh, too..”

you decide against trying to lean around her. best not to traumatize yourself on your first day. “uh, yeah, they are. would- do you want one?” you hold out one of the fruits. “i haven’t washed them yet, but…”

“oh, that’s okay!” she takes it eagerly, giving it a cursory wipe with her sleeve before taking a bite. “you don’t really need to wash em, in paimon’s experience! just a quick clean of any dirt and you’re all good to go!”

…that was stellar to hear.

you patiently wait, pretending the grunts and roars and sounds of clashing weaponry don’t exist. you try to offer paimon another sunsettia, since you know in-lore she’s almost always hungry, but she shakes her head.

“one for paimon, one for you, and one for the traveller! that way, everyone gets the same amount, and nobody’s upset!”

you don’t know how to feel about the fact that she addresses him as ‘the traveller’. on one hand, it makes sense she wouldn’t throw his name around like that. on the other, it feels… wrong. not in a way you can put a name to, but something about it is unsettling.

“did they offend you, or something?”

you startle, looking up, and see aether standing right in front of you, flipping through some hilichurl masks in his hands before passing two off to paimon, who puts them in a cloud of stars.

he looks at you expectantly, and you realize you had been frowning at the food in your hands. “o-oh! no, they.. sorry, i was lost in thought.”

he dismisses the rest of the masks into gold sparks with a nod. “are you alright?”

paimon gasps, hands over her mouth as she flies back a little. “oh, paimon forgot to ask! are you hurt at all? you don’t look like you’re from here…”

you flash her a smile you hope covers the change in topic. “i’m fine. and thank you,” you turn to aether, “your help is greatly appreciated-…” what do you address him as? you’ve technically never met, but to call him an honorary knight is probably unwise…

“the traveller is fine,” he says. “and you didn’t answer paimon’s question.” rats. “are you from teyvat?”

you hesitate, but eventually shake your head. “i’m not.”

he frowns. “how’d you get here?”

“i don’t know.”

“..you don’t have anywhere to stay, do you?”

oh no. you recognize that voice. “it’s fine, you don’t have to worry about me.” you glance around, eventually pointing at mondstat. it’s stunning in person, even from a distance, but you push past its beauty to talk. “there’s a city there, right? i’ll make do.”

“now’s a tense time, even mondstat isn’t as welcoming as usual.”

‘tense’? you don’t remember mondstat being involved in any scandals, and the skies seem clear, so you must be past the mondstat part of the story… “is something wrong? wait, don’t answer that; if it’s tense, then you surely have somewhere more important to be, right?”

paimon huffs. “paimon bets you’re broker than the tone-deaf bard!” wow, okay. “and a single sunsettia doesn’t get you far!”

aether raises a brow. “‘single’?”

“right!” you hurriedly pick the larger of the two, holding it out to him. “as thanks. she’s right, i don’t have any mor- uh, any more to give you, but it’s the least i can do.”

he shakes his head. “keep them. now, regarding your housing-“

“i can stay in mondstat-“

“the entirety of teyvat is on edge right now. the chances of an outlander being welcomed without hassle is low, even for mond.” he thinks about it, paimon mirroring the hand on his chin.

you try to think over the lore, attempting to remember something that could affect the entirety of teyvat. maybe you’re in the middle of the liyue quest? but why would he be in mond… unless you’re beyond the known lore, but in that case he has even less of a reason to be here, and not wherever the crisis is. not that that’s his obligation, of course, but given the trend-

“what’s your name, by the way?” you give it, and he frowns. “ah, that won’t do.” what. “i.. i don’t know about where you’re from, but where i’m from and here in teyvat, there’s a prominent religion that spans nearly the entire world here. this faith is the cause of the conflict i was talking about earlier.”

your heart picks up, and you pray it’s just some weird quirk of the lore you haven’t gotten to yet. maybe something with the heavenly principles? celestia? you regret not reading up on more of the lore now that you’re face to face with potentially a large part of it. “and?”

“you share the name with the primary god.” please don’t be what i’m thinking of, please don’t be- “the people of teyvat are rather protective of their creator, and doubly so now that their presence has gone missing.”

shit.

your mind flashes to all the sagau you’ve indulged in, to the break you’d taken a few days ago because your game had been acting up and you didn’t want to make whatever glitch it was worse in fear of losing your progress.

“oh,” is all you can say.

living with aether is easier than you thought it would be.

by the time you wake, he’s out working for the guild, leaving you and most of the realm within to yourself. you try and be useful by tidying up, but tubby keeps most of the realm clean, so there’s little for you to really do. there’s rooms that weren’t in the game—likely because this is his personal realm—such as a massive library and big sunroom, and you pick through the former on occasion. there’s books about everything, from encyclopedias on flowers in sumeru to the types of silk used in inazuman clothing. everything you don’t understand or want clarification on is bookmarked, and after he’s come home and rested, you both talk about them over dinner.

sometimes he knows the answers to your questions. other times you write them down on a slip of paper, and he takes a detour that day to ask. even if it’s something from a nation he hasn’t visited yet, he somehow finds the answers, returning to you with a longer sheet as he explains. you don’t ask where he got it, nor why he’s so willing to entertain your surely silly questions, but it probably has something to do with the fact that you didn’t fish up a companion that could answer all of your questions about a world you didn’t know deeper than surface level.

similarly, the transition in your relationship was also smooth, so quiet you almost didn’t notice it was happening. it was just so easy to be around him, your familiarity with him outside of the game and implicit reliance on him as an outlander during the mess of teyvat making him easy to talk to.

you didn’t notice when you started greeting him with hugs more often, nor when you started eating side by side at the table, talking about more than just the books. you told him about your world, and he spoke of his, telling you beautiful stories of his sister and their travels.

(“every world i’ve been to has worshipped the creator in one way or another,” he says, pushing his empty plate to the side. “does yours really not?”)

(you make the choice to set aside the many religions on earth. “we don’t,” you say simply, and he frowns, resting his chin in his hand.)

(“how interesting…”)

once he was confident that you knew enough of teyvat and it’s people, he began to take you on his commissions. the realm within was nice, and tubby held good conversation, but cabin fever began to set in after a month or so. he held your hand as you walked, steering you out of the way of monster camps or other adventurers. he didn’t dare bring you on the ones requiring fighting, but you’d helped find lost keys or fallen boards, paimon always certain to pull you away from battle, distracting you with a chat about whatever meal aether would make later.

(“do you guys always cook? doesn’t adventuring pay well?” you asked once, trying to remember how much commissions earned in terms of mora. you never really kept track, nor did you try and figure out how much it was to buy food from places, but surely…)

(“mostly! mora typically goes to either ingredients or first aid supplies. paimon’s thankful he’s a good cook, it’d be impossible to survive otherwise.” she said it so simply, as if it was an easy fact and not awful that they couldn’t afford to eat out even after everything they’ve done.)

(“that’s terrible…”)

(“its not that bad! you’ve tasted his cooking before, it’s great!” that’s true, but- “besides, it’s been getting better recently. with the creator absent, he’s able to take the commissions himself. though it is nice, it’s still worrying they haven’t come back..”)

(the idea that you’ve been indirectly contributing to their situation makes you a bit sick.)

the three of you were walking through liyue, heading for the last commission of the day. shitou, the jade betting guy, needed more ores for his business, and aether was leading you through the city. he’d chosen the waypoint on the western side of the harbor so you could walk through the city, and you were happy he did.

it was so beautiful in person, the buildings and bridges so much more ornate than their models could do justice. the streets were crowded, but you weren’t overwhelmed when aether was beside you, pointing out a jewelry store or a traveling merchant showing off bright balloons to children. you passed one man holding a conversation with a millelith soldier, who was his brother judging by the informal way they spoke and the mentions of shared relatives. you crossed the bridge leading to the eastern half of the harbor, the smell of something sweet and flowery drifting in the air.

“is there a flower shop around here?” you ask, and aether shakes his head, pointing at a building you vaguely recognize.

“there’s a tea house there, and they specialize in rose tea. we could pick up some if you wanted to try it?”

“that’s fine, i was just wondering. i wouldn’t want you to buy something for me if i didn’t like it.”

he stayed quiet, but you could tell he was still thinking about it. “what’s the appropriate way to brew it… wait, do we even have a teapot?”

“i’d hope so, otherwise you’ll have a lot to explain to the adepti.”

he bumps your shoulder as you both begin to turn toward shitou, but you see he’s smiling. “you know what i mean, not that kind of-“

“teapot?”

your steps stopped suddenly, the new voice one you regrettably recognized.

aether turned, greeting zhongli with a smile and a small wave. “not the realm within, don’t worry.”

“that’s good to hear. i’d hate for it to be causing problems.” his eyes flicked to you, seeming to search for something. “and your friend?”

it was weird, the way he looked at you, and aether seemed to pick up on it, stepping forward a bit to block you while also making it seem like he was just turning to face zhongli better. “just someone helping me out. what are you doing out here, don’t you have a shift at the parlor?”

bless aether and his ability to direct conversations, bless him and the speed with which he reminds zhongli of the necessary urgency when working at the funeral parlor, successfully sending the man on his way, even if he gives you another searching look as he does.

“sorry,” aether said, giving your had a squeeze as he approached shitou’s table. “he’s probably cautious because you look like the creator.”

you return it, staying quiet as he hands over the jade and only speaking up once the two of you turn around towards the closer waypoint. “it’s alright. thank you for talking to him.”

he flashed you a smile, putting one hand on the waypoint. “of course. it’s the least i could do.”

liyue fell away in a flash of white, the familiar music of the realm within washing away any lingering feaf or unease from talking to zhongli.

maybe one day you’d come clean, stop lying about reading information from his library. maybe you’d tell him, maybe you’d confess to how crystalflies always seemed to follow you, the wind always at your back.

“what would you like for lunch?” aether called, pulling down ingredients from various cabinets before you even answer because he knows what you’ll say.

“surprise me,” you reply, and he chuckles. the same answer, every time, and every time he manages to find something new to make you.

today you would keep quiet again, as you had every other day. today you would root through the pantry when he forgot the flour, today you would set the table and pull out some paper, asking him about whether or not they had silkworm farms if silk flowers were so common, at least in liyue.

today he would smile, and today he would answer, and maybe tomorrow you’d tell him something he couldn’t reply to.

but that was tomorrow. and this was today.

[hockybish]

Scary Uncle Luke

l West Winds au l dad!trevor au l masterlist l

September 2022

Zephyr tends to run into people's legs, he thinks its funny. He'll do it anyone. There have been a couple of times where he's gone up to strangers and Bean and Trevor have to do some apologizing. But if it's one of the guys, they'll pick him up and give him the attention he wants.

One time Zeph was looking for Trevor and he was already slightly upset and tired. All he wants is his daddy. He walks up to the first person he sees that could possibly be his dad (because the person looked really tall like Trevor) but lo and behold it wasn't Trevor it was Luke.

Luke felt something collide with the side of his leg, immediately he knew it was the little boy who had been staying with them at the lake house. This was a common occurrence, so Luke just bent over and placed the child on his hip and continued his conversation with Quinn. Moments later a wail pierced through all conversations being had amongst the guest currently there.

"Zeph buddy, what's wrong?" he questioned Zephyr as giant crocodile slipped from his green eyes. The toddler hid his face in the tall hockey player's shoulder.

"Daddy" the two year old mumbled, barely audible. Zephyr gave Luke the side eye before crying into his shoulder again. This action was repeated a few more times sending Luke into a slight panic, whipping his head around looking for either of the child's parent.

"Dude what did you do?" Quinn questioned his youngest brother.

"I didn't do anything Q, literally just picked him up and he started crying." Luke told his brother what had taken place. The little boy looked at Luke and whimpered again, "and he keeps doing this and saying something I can't understand. Where's Bean?"

"hey Zephy want uncle Quinny to hold you?" he offered, rubbing the up and down the child's back in a soothing manner.

Zephyr shook his head no, leaning closer into luke in an attempt to get away from Quinn's hand, mumbling something unintelligible again. "hmm, what was that?"

"Daddy." he turned his face to the side away from Luke. if he had looked at Luke there would have been more tears.

the oldest Hughes nodded, reassuring the kid that he would go retrieve the person he was asking for. shortly he returned with trevor, and zeph practically left into his arms. he sobbed again curling into the comfort of his father.

"Don't sweat it moose. It's nap time, he's cranky and tired. and he probably thought you were me but when he realized it was you he got scared." trevor shrugged.

From here on out Luke was known as Scary Uncle Luke.

[ktkellart]

Good Omens London Trip 🐍💞🪽

It's my Birthday today and I treated myself to a trip to London last weekend to see my favourite actor Michael Sheen in Nye at the National Theatre. I made the most of my weekend by combining it with a Good Omens filming location self-tour and I'd love to share it with you all. So, are you ready for the tour?

Here we go!

Starting off with Soho, and the inspiration for Whickber Street, where Aziraphale's bookshop, Give Me Coffee or Give Me Death, The Small Back Room, and the Dirty Donkey are located.

It’s Berwick Street and a record shop that is very similar in shape to A.Z Fell & Co. Bonus points for spotting Duck Lane!

Next is Berkeley Square, a short walk from Soho. The first two photos are of the real Berkeley Square gardens in Mayfair, and the last two photos were taken in the filming location of Tavistock Square across the other side of central London near Kings Cross. I’m sitting on their ‘body swap’ bench in the last photo!

As you can see, the benches are turned around facing inwards now but are the other way, facing outwards in Good Omens.

Oh, and I can confirm that there were no nightingales singing in either location 😭

Heading up the road a few minutes from Tavistock Square to The Enterprise pub where I met a fellow fan who kindly took photos of me posing (I bet the staff thought we were off our rockers!). This is where Crowley drowns his sorrows in Talisker Whisky whilst waiting for the world to end after thinking he'd lost Aziraphale. Omg that poor poor demon, he was really just gonna die along with the world.

Also, one of my favourite moments of season 1 is Crolwey's line: "I heard that. It was the wiggle-on..." then shrugs. 😆 So many emotions in such short a time.

Onto the Ritz. The first two photos are of the real Ritz (a stone's throw from Berkeley Square) and the last one is inside Masala Zone in Piccadilly Circus where the ‘Quite extraordinary amounts of alcohol’ and ‘To the World’ scenes were filmed.

I ate in here alone to get the photo and was so lucky with the table I was given! Perfect discreet snap whilst eating my curry! Haha!

Next up is Battersea Park and the Bandstand. It was a bit of a faff to get there, it's an 8-minute walk from the Battersea Power Station underground and we walked the full length of the park to find the Bandstand, but it was so worth it.

Also filmed here was Gabriel and Aziraphale’s run/jog. Poor Angel is soft scene.

The trees were a little leafier with it being mid-May and the park was very busy because the weather was glorious. They also have a beautiful lake here with herons!

The Heaven & Hell staircase escalators are right over the east side of London in Broadgate Tower, Bishopsgate. I got the overground to Liverpool Street station to get there. It is in a private business building so I politely/awkwardly asked the receptionist if I could take a photo and had to explain about the scene from Good Omens… eek! But he kindly let me snap a photo anyway! (Phew)

The Windmill Theatre was three minutes away from my hotel in Piccadilly Circus, so I wandered up the road to take a photo of where Aziraphale ‘performed on the West End stage’ as Fell the Marvelous. And wasn’t he just?

The scenes weren't filmed here but it was fun to find it anyway.

St James’s Park is up next! I sat on their bench and got my friend to take photos of me posing and had fun editing the first photo. Haha! We enjoyed walking through the park, watching the ducks on the lake and had a nosey at Buckingham Palace while we were there.

The Duke of York Statue steps are at the other end of St James's Park and were fun to walk up. I smiled to myself as I thought of the scene where Crowley says ‘Well let's have lunch? Hmm,’ and Aziraphale turns around, as it was the first time I realised that these two were more than just friends.

Heaven’s top floor, the Sky Garden in Fenchurch Street near Monument is a very tall building with a botanical garden on the top floor. You can visit the sky garden for free, but you do need to book in advance so it’s best to plan ahead for this one. The views of London are breathtaking from the 35th floor and the tropical plants are fun.

My last stop for this visit was Shakespeare’s Globe Theatre. I booked a tour on the morning I was due to go home. The first tour is 10 am and lasts an hour, so I dashed off as soon as the tour guide was uttering his last words about the gift shop, across London back to Kings Cross to pick up my suitcase from luggage storage and get the 11:48 am train home!

One I missed and could have easily gone to is Abingdon Street where Newton and Shadwell meet, and Shadwell fleeces Newton for a cup of tea with nine sugars and pockets the change. A bit gutted I missed it to be honest – I love Jack Whitehall (I’m back in London with the family in June so I’ll swing by and update then!)

There are also some other locations a little further afield that I might try to visit on a later date, such as Shadwell's and Madam Tracy's flat down Hornsey Road in Islington, Crowley's Flat exterior in Eastfields Avenue, Best Cafe on Garratt Lane where Crowley meets Shadwell, Crystal Palace Dinosaur Park where the ineffable husbands watch Warlock defacing a dinosaur sign and Antonella's Cafe and Bistro where Crowley and Aziraphale are thinking of ideas to track down the antichrist whist Aziraphale eats cake.

Okay, I’m gonna finish up with the man himself. The very kind, very charming, and VERY patient Michael Sheen The reason for my London visit in the first place. Nye was spectacular OBviOUsLy, but he was super generous with his time at stage door for us all. I got a hug and asked him to pass it on to Aziraphale (that angel really needs a hug) and it made him laugh, which made my night!

Here’s the wonderful map I used -

from this website:

[twola]

Seven Deadly Sins - I

PAIRING: low to mid honor Arthur Morgan x Fem!reader

Summary: Because if one thing is true, it is that Arthur Morgan is a sinner. Pure, organic, non-GMO smut. A continuing series.

Lust: an intense sexual desire or appetite, uncontrolled or illicit sexual desire or appetite; lecherousness, a passionate or overmastering desire or craving.

➵ AO3 Link ➵ Fic Masterlist ➵ Next

That is the absolute last time he ever listens to some hare-brained plan dreamed up by Sean MacGuire. Abandoned cabin, he said, not a soul around, he went on. He just failed to mention that this cabin near Eris Field was a goddamn Lemoyne Raiders safe house. Not nearly worth the take, and now Arthur needed more shotgun shells. He made sure Sean caught hell before sending the boy off in the other direction. He cuffed him over the head for good measure.

Arthur swung around to the south of Rhodes to keep away from camp for a while, it was only a matter of time until those inbred hicks realized it was another gang encroaching on their territory. 

He spurred his horse into a gallop as the sun set over the west, and a full moon rose over the hill country of Scarlett Meadows. 

Arthur hits the shores of Flat Iron Lake just north of Braithwaite Manor.

He pats his mare’s head as she slows to a walk, breathing heavily, coat worked into a lathing sweat. “You’re alright, girl.”

Trailing along the shoreline, in the distance, he can see the faint lantern lights from the gang’s camp at Clemens Point. He stops the horse, allowing her to step down to the water and take a much-needed drink. Swinging off the saddle, he pops his shoulder, still feeling a twinge of pain from his ‘stay’ with the O’Driscolls weeks ago.

A sound reaches his ears, rustling of leaves, movement of water. 

He ties up his horse against a tree, unholstering his revolver as he sneaks closer to the small cove that the shoreline creates. He takes cover behind a wide tree trunk, slowly clicking the safety off his revolver.

He peers on the other side of the tree at the rocky shoreline.

It is not some bounty hunter, or robber, or frankly any kind of threat.

It is you.

You’re partially obscured by the outcropping of rock, but there is more than enough moonlight to trace the sinuous curves of your body.

You’re completely bare, nude as the day you were born, washing yourself in the waters of Flat Iron Lake.

He should be blushing and turning away, leaving you privacy while he reaches camp from another direction. But as the moonlight dances on your dewy curves, Arthur is guided by another notion.

He did always say that he wasn’t a good man.

Arthur holsters his gun, trying to be as quiet as possible. He watches you with the eyes of a predator, a hungry wolf with a doe in its sights. It hasn’t been since his untried youth that he’s so governed by an urge like this, being driven by pulsing blood and hotheadedness and want.

You’re wringing out your long hair over your shoulder, the expanse of your back and the curve of your spine above your hips visible above the water.

He swallows, hidden by foliage, behind the tree trunk overlooking the cove where you bathe.

Arthur can’t say he’s ever looked at you like this, thrumming with the singular need to sink his cock into your body. You’ve been around a few years, a dependable thief, a decent shot, he looked at you no differently than he looked at Karen, Tilly, or Mary Beth. But now, seeing you like this, he’s driven by a need that pounds in his blood. He knows he shouldn’t be here, dirty old man , but by some kind of force far stronger than shame, he is rooted to the spot, breathing in a deep breath through his nose.

He uncomfortably shifts, his hand over his gun belt that’s slung across his hips, tighter now against his hardening cock. He pushes at it awkwardly, trying to find some damned relief. 

You turn, humming to yourself while taking a step closer to the shore. More of your skin becomes visible to him as you rise from the water like some storybook nymph.

He swallows, tracing the rivulets of water down your frame, down over your pebbled nipples and the swell of your breasts, your soft belly, sliding down your skin into the thatch of dark hair at the apex of your thighs.

Arthur liked to think of himself as being above that. Not so completely enraptured by the female form that he could think of little else.

But right now? His stiffening cock pressing against his pants is his priority. With guidance that he knows could only come from thinking with his cock, he steps out of his hiding spot and down to the shoreline.

Leaves rustle on the ground.

You catch his gaze. Surprised, fearful, like a skittish doe in the jaws of that hungry wolf. Stunned into silence, into stillness. 

Water continues to drip down your body. Nothing is hidden from his eyes. 

Were he not but a trickle of that fresh lake water, trailing slowly down your skin, down your breasts, your soft belly, collecting at the cradle of your hips. Weaving its way through the hair there. 

Drip, drip, dripping to the hidden, dewy skin of your cunt.

-

You swallow. Your skin breaks out into gooseflesh as you shiver under the cold weight of his stare. You should scream, you should run, you should hide yourself from him.

Should, should, should. All of these things you should do.

But the way he is looking at you. The way he is staring. The shadow across his face from the brim of that old leather hat. The telltale sign of heavy breathing, his chest rising and falling. You can see his fist clenching at his side.

Arthur has always been distant. You had heard talk of a woman he had been involved with years ago, some high society girl that broke his heart. Not that you were particularly eyeing anyone in the gang for any self-gratifying reason - it was less complicated that way.

But now, now,  he looks at you with a hunger that needs to be slaked. Arthur Morgan. Dutch’s top gun. The enforcer. You’ve seen him break men with his two hands, those two hands that clench at his side as he struggles with some semblance of control.

In this moment, you imagine those hands on you.

Something, perhaps the traitorous clenching of your cunt around nothing when you look at him, goads you into speaking up.

“Want to join me, Arthur?”

-

Your voice is soft, breathy, when it reaches his ear. He continues to stare, gnawing at his lower lip for moments that seem like an eternity.

His cock is so hard it’s almost painful, straining against the fabric of his jeans. A cool breeze rushes in from the lake and you shiver, the goose flesh that springs up on your skin makes him itch to touch you. Even feet away, he can see your nipples darken and harden.

“Are you coming?” You whisper at him, your hand slowly raising toward his still form. 

The double entendre is not lost on him. 

Arthur hasn’t been one to be guided by his cock, certainly not recently. Not in years. He’s not one to seek out whores in far-flung cattle towns the gang rolls through like a prairie wind. But Christ , if you aren’t here, hand outstretched, beckoning him to come to you.

His gun belt lands on the ground with a clatter. Arthur is kicking his boots off while shrugging his suspenders down his arms, fevered in his movements. His satchel joins his belt on the ground. He refuses to look away from your figure, refuses to give up a single moment of the moon shining down on the expanse of your skin.

Arthur works at the buttons of his work shirt, one by one, as his breathing becomes heavier. He nearly rips his shirt off, it falls to the ground over his discarded gun belt. The Lemoyne heat and humidity are stifling, and he has forgone a union suit underneath his clothing.

You suck in a breath, and he sees a glint of hunger in your eyes, beginning to match what he’s sure is emanating from his own. 

His hands glide to the buttons of his pants, pressing them between the fabric eyes, his cock insistent against his fly. 

One, two, three.

-

You stare at him, your gaze darting downward from his hungry eyes to his broad chest, covered in wiry hair. His arms, muscled and sculpted and brawny. The way his waist slightly tapers inward down to his hips. He is hewn from decades of intensive labor, the chase of violence, living on the lam. 

The trail of dark hair from his navel that disappears under his pants becomes more and more visible to your gaze at each button he undoes. His fly hangs open for a moment, before he hooks both of his hands at the sides of his pants and slides them down, baring himself to you the way you are to him. He tosses his pants into the pile of clothing on the shore.

He steps into the water, unafraid, confident, driven. Wading toward you, the water creeping up with each step, up his calves, past his knees, up his thighs to where his engorged cock hangs heavy. 

Arthur reaches you, his hungry hands on your body as your breath hitches, shivering as you close your eyes. A thumb brushes over one of your nipples. Fingers dance across the soft skin of your inner thigh, moving closer to the apex, and you widen your stance unconsciously, as your hands find their way to his chest, palms spread wide over the planes of his solid pectorals. 

Your eyes snap open as your breath quickens, Arthur drags the knuckle of his pointer finger between your folds. You gasp, and in response his mouth hangs open, his other hand leaving your breast to dart down to his cock, stroking it slowly as he rubs at your core.

“A-Arthur,” you stutter, one of your hands moving to his forearm, clenching it tightly as he presses against you. 

“ Jesus , woman.” He slips a finger inside you and you keen, head thrown back and gasping to the nighttime sky. Arthur groans in response, his other hand moving from his cock to grasp roughly at the back of your neck, pulling you forward, nearly stumbling into him, and captures your lips with his own, smothering your high-pitched wail with his mouth.

The hard, hot line of him is pressed against your hip, insistent, and as you quickly get used to his ministrations in your cunt, you reach between your bodies to ghost your palm over his cock, taking the place of his hand that is winding through the hair at the nape of your neck.

It’s his turn to groan, and you feel the vibrations of the low register of his voice down your spine, he juts his hips against you. He pulls away, gasping, pupils blown. His hand moves slowly back from your neck to cup your jaw, the rough skin of his thumb tracing your lips.

You open your lips and take his thumb in your mouth, sucking gently. His eyes widen, mouth twitching for a moment. You feel him push a second finger into your cunt and you burn , your teeth clenching down on his thumb gently as you suck.

You know, you know , that there is no going back from here, that you’re about to tread on dangerous ground, but from the way your vision narrows to the pulsing of your blood underneath your skin, you don’t care.

-

Arthur stares down at you, his thumb in your mouth, fingers in your cunt. One of your hands lazily strokes at his cock, your thumb swiping over its head every few strokes.

He draws his hand from your mouth and leans back in to take your lips against his again. His tongue presses against yours. You’re completely pliant against him.

“Gonna fuck y’ now.” He pants into your mouth, taking his hands from their places and quickly grabbing the undersides of your thighs, hoisting you from the water as your hands find his shoulders. Your legs immediately wrap around his hips.

Your lips remain locked on his as he wades back toward the shoreline, and once he’s out of the water, he’s sinking to his knees, bending over to lay you out on the ground. 

Your hands card through his honeyed locks, as he presses his lips to yours again. He settles in between your hips, his cock pressing against your thigh.

You moan into his mouth, and one of your hands reaches between the two of you to grasp him, guiding him in between your thighs.

He pushes inside. 

It’s slow, as much as he wants to fuck you until you scream, he can get to that later. Inch by torturous inch, he presses forward, until the bones of both of your hips touch, and he is buried deep within you.

Christ, you’re just as tight, wet, and warm as he’d thought you’d be.

He grunts, rolling his hips back to withdraw, then pushing forward again, swallowing your moan as his lips remain on yours.

There he is, fucking you on the sandy shoreline of Flat Iron Lake, the both of you naked as the day you were born, kissed by moonlight. He pulls away from your lips, and you both breathe fast, panting breaths.

“ God -” you croon, your blunt nails digging into his back.

He chuckles lowly, “Not quite.”

Arthur loops one of your legs over his shoulder, and your babbling becomes incoherent as he widens the yaw of your legs, and you struggle to keep your eyes open.

He’s careening toward completion, that feeling deep in his gut where he knows he’s about to have this burning energy that’s overtaking him pulled out through his cock.

You’re shamelessly moaning beneath him, gasping syllables of his name. God, hopefully, you ain’t so loud the camp hears you, cause there would be absolutely no hiding what he’s doing to you.

“I’m, ooh- god…” you spit out, voice breathy as you begin to arch underneath him, your cunt embarrassingly wet, the squelching of his thrusts becoming louder as you cry out, clenching around his cock, scratching his back near painfully. Arthur continues to fuck you through your release, chasing his own as his breathing tumbles into panting as he slams his hips into your own. He lets your leg down from his shoulder.

Arthur pulls out with not a moment to spare, the hot spatter of his release against your inner thigh as your back continues to arch against him. He groans, his forehead against yours, out of breath, barely holding himself up as his forearms bracket either side of your head.

You sigh, satiated, breathy, slowly coming down from your high, “Mister Morgan.”

“At your service, ma’am.” He places his head in the hollow of your shoulder, nipping slightly at your neck before he rolls off of you. 

You’re both covered in sandy mud, streaks of the red clay that helps give Scarlett Meadows its name coating your skin.

“Looks like I need another bath. I was almost done, ‘fore you interrupted me.” You sit up, wiping at a smudge of mud on your hip bone.

“Mm, could help ya there, if y’ need it.”

You roll your eyes at him, and he reaches over to pinch at your hip, causing you to giggle and scoot further away from him.

“Arthur. Knock it off or we ain’t ever gonna get clean.” You scold but cannot keep the smile from your face. You push yourself up to stand, moving back toward the water, stepping in gingerly, wading out until you can sink down so the water covers your shoulders.

Arthur reclines back, propped up on his elbow, watching you pick leaves and twigs from your long hair. 

You turn around, catching his eye. “You coming in?”

Arthur snorts, looking down, but cannot keep the grin from his face. He pushes himself up from the ground, standing up and wading into the water.

“Y’know, Mister, you ain’t half bad.”

“You ain’t half bad yourself, Miss.”

He circles you, your hair fanned out in the water. You eye him with a glint of mischief.

“I wouldn’t mind if we did that from time to time.”

“Oh? Would you now….” He reaches toward you, and you push a small wave of water at him in response.

“Mhm. But not now. You’ve got mud on your face.”

[its-wabby-stuff]

By the Side of the Black Lake

I can’t remember how I found the lake, or when. But it was instantly mesmerizing.

The surface lay completely still, bordered by rocks on the east side and a glassy beach of soft sand on the west. There were no waves, no tide, I wasn’t even sure if it was water.

Just a black ink that spread out, shaped by the land, completely opaque. It didn’t feel natural, but it looked beautiful.

I could sit on the lake side for hours, just admiring it and it’s intensity. I wouldn’t dare to touch it. Things this peculiar in nature always came with some horrific price. A temperature hot enough to boil you alive, or completely melt the flesh off bones. (Like the sulphur springs in Yellowstone, except this didn’t smell of rotting eggs).

Things had been dropped into the lake before, but the surface was so dark, you would never be able to tell what happened to it. It would just disappear into the darkness. Things could float on the surface but the patterns never matched any typical current, it moved at its own leisure, as if the lake was playing with it. But just like everything else, it would eventually sink into the depths.

Sometimes things would wash up on shore, bones of birds and animals that had tried to swim. Unsettling to say the least.

Some believed the lake was cursed, but I was never one to believe in magic. Still, it was hard to shake that the lake felt- alive. It could feel happy and sad and angry, and the environment and the surface of the lake acted on these. Unpredictable as ever.

I was afraid. There were so many uncertainties visiting a lake like this. But it was practically impossible to ignore the strange comfort I got staring into the darkness, pondering its depths, and admiring its beauty.

Curiosity’s temptation always calls until it receives an answer.

I found myself visiting more and more frequently, and spending more and more time amongst the quiet solitude of the lake, although I never felt alone. It became a habit to visit the lake everyday. I’d bring a blanket and set up atop one of the rocks that presented the best view. I’d sketch, read, nap. I’d watch people come by with their own stories. They’d leave things for the lake. Throw things into the lake. Walk around the border. I’d hum and sing and whisper conversations to myself. It felt like someone was listening, and conversations with myself and some distant party became common.

I wanted to share ideas and stories and life, until speaking out loud became less to help myself understand and more for someone else to listen to.

I was always so careful to clean up after myself. Not leave anything behind. I didn’t want to upse- I didn’t want to lose something I might regret letting go of. But I guess I was distracted, lost in my head, and I forgot.

I only realized that I had when I went to visit the lake the next day. It was missing. I must’ve left it behind. I looked everywhere for it. Even places I had never actually visited by the lakeside. I searched and searched til the sun started to set.

I didn’t know what to do. Perhaps the lake had- no that’s impossible. The lake couldn’t have taken it. It’s up on the rocks. So someone else- but there was no one else around. I couldn’t have lost it.

Even if it didn’t have much monetary value, I had spent weeks by the lake side using it, and it didn’t feel right to not have it. I can’t believe I lost it, and I couldn’t help but cry at my own incompetence.

I hadn’t realized how close I’d gotten to the edge until it was too late, and one misstep caused me to fall into the lake. I only had a second to catch a breath before I was submerged into the darkness.

In moments that catch you off guard you find yourself doing things you never would’ve before. And I opened my eyes, not like it helped since I couldn’t see anything. I had no idea where I was and no sense of direction. The surface was missing, and panic began to settle deeper within me.

My mind began to focus on my breath, or the lack of breath. I hadn’t been ready to be submerged, and I could feel the choke hold my lungs had on me, begging me for more air. Air I couldn’t give it.

Was this it? Was this where I was to die. I suppose it could be worse. My flesh could be melting off my body, but the darkness was surprisingly tame. I wouldn’t say cold just as much as I wouldn’t say hot. It was- comforting. Like being held. And the darkness seemed to wrap itself around me. I couldn’t tell if it was trying to help, or trying to push me further down. But I was unwelcome either way.

I wasn’t sure how much longer I could hold my breath, but maybe there was no point holding onto something I couldn’t control. Maybe I should just-

Two massive orange- um- eyes appeared before me. One with a slash straight through. I swam backward, startled. What was this thing? Some sort of lake creature? I wasn’t even aware anything lived inside. I thought- this must be what eats the creatures that get stuck.

They got closer, and I tried moving away, but I was stuck. I couldn’t move, and the tugging and flailing of my arms was only met with resistance. The glowing eyes circled me, settling behind me and than looked up. Up! That was the surface!

I swam up as fast as I could, following the refracting orange light all the way. My lungs longed for another breath. I could feel it leaping in anticipating until finally, I breached the surface and gasped for air in a fit of coughs. Quickly, I swam toward the beach, pulling myself completely out of the lake and a little extra for good measure.

It was dark now, the final glitter of the sun settling behind the mountain. All the beauty the lake offered by day as an oddity left when given the dark abyssal nature it had by night. It looked as if nothing was there. As of the universe itself ended in this very spot.

I pulled my knees up to my chest as I tried to get myself to move. A wave brushed itself on the sand, over and over until something was left on the beach.

That was mine. What I’d been searching for! I found it or- it was returned to me. I looked out over the lake again. Quiet and still as ever.

———————-

I don’t know how comfortable @somerandomdudelmao is with fanfiction of their own persona, but the very intriguing idea of a sentient, completely black lake divined me with inspiration and I had to write out an idea. I tried to keep it mysterious in nature because I have a lot of unknown variables. I also wanted people to put themselves in these shoes, so this isn’t about me per se. I wanted the lake to be as inspiring as it is mysterious, trying to embody a bit of Cass in it.

[yourstrulybluelover]

Title: Fishing Lessons

Pairings: Lo’ak (19) x Navi Reader (18)

Warnings: MDNI

Contains: sexual tension, forced, dom Lo’ak, fingering, p in v

Word count: 2300

You were horrible at spearing, lacked patience and hated being in the water. You found it challenging to spear from under the water so today you were meeting with one of the Sully brothers in efforts to perfect your skill. The Sullys would have spent some time at the reef with the Metkayina clan which meant their hunting and warrior activities were improved, much better than the Omatikaya clan.

Your father, one of the head warriors requested that Jake or his sons to teach his daughter, you, the art, skills and ways of the water. You hated being in the water, the thought of not being able to see clearly, whatever is lurking. Your movements were slowed in the water. You were an agile hunter, that did well in the canopy and in the sky. However, the watery terrain was your weakest. You couldn’t help but feel as if your father was ashamed of your lack of skill, which is why he requested the lessons be in private.

You huffed as you walked through the trail. Your training was starting today. You were told to meet the Sullys by one of the larger lakes, west of the colony, closer to the mountains. The lake was selected as it was one of the more controlled environments and also secluded.

“Y/N!” you hear a familiar voice call for you as you parted the vegetation to access the lake. Your hand slowly reaching for the knife tucked by your waist.

“It’s me, Loak.”

You turned around to meet eyes with the youngest Sully brother. He flashed you a grin. His braids dangling from the side of his head, the remaining of the braids tucked behind his head into one.

“Oh it’s you, I was expecting your dad or your brother.”

“You sound disappointed.”

“NO!” Your eyes widen and your hands wave frantically.”

He smirked his eyes scanning your body to then meet your eyes. “I’m just teasing you y/n.” You suddenly felt self-conscious, wishing you paid attention a bit more to your attire and unkempt hair. Your beaded top, which hardly concealed your breasts, didn’t even match your loincloth, which was tied loosely around your curvy hips, exposing a little of your v-line.

“Ready y/n?’’ Lo’ak called out, “Hope you brought spare clothes.”

“Erm, It’ll dry off on our way back home.”

He chuckled as he beaconed you with his muscular arms, he slowly stepped in the lake walking towards the middle. Soon water was up to his waist. You shuddered at the thought of being in the dark, cold water. You took a huge breath as you marched your way through the water towards him.\

“Slow down, y/n, you’re gonna scare away the fish.” His arm our stretched for you to hold his hand.

You grab his hand for support, fear slowly seeping in, the cold making you shiver. His hand felt so calloused and firm, you looked down to see his veins protruding on his forearm. His toned arms guide you slowly, his hand losing yours to place them on your lower back. You looked up to him but his concentration was on the water, looking down, stopping at the spot. The water was now up to your belly button, but that’s because you were shorter than Lo’ak.

He obviously recognized the discomfort on your face as you squirmed whenever your feet touched something slimy or unknown. You looked around scanning the water, worried about the unknown species lurking below.

“Relax bro, there are just fishes and aquatic weeds in here.” He chuckled, raising your chin to meet his eyes.

You shot him a fake smile. Not willing to admit your apparent discomfort.

Alright, we’ll start off with spearing. He handed you the spear, showing you the position to take. You try to follow but tumble to your side after losing your balance. You shrieked. Lo’ak instantly dropped the spear in an attempt to catch you. His hands grab your waist. You felt tense, the immediate skinship causing you to feel flustered, an immediate warmth crept up on your face.

He smirks. “Let me guide you.” His voice is low as he walks behind you. “You need to be calm, relaxed, still.” His arm reaches up to guide your arms. Once you grip the spear to his liking, his hand moves below your chest, gliding to right above your belly button, he presses his rough fingers lightly into your stomach. “Your core should be strong, firm, tight.” The last word whispered into your ear, his lips brushing across your ear.

You rolled your eyes in his attempt to make you nervous.

“Stay quiet, stay still, eyes on the water, feel the movement with your feet.” He whispered into your other ear, his chest now pressed into your back, his hand on your lower back, the other raising your elbow slightly higher.

You shaped out loud, your eyes widened, you dropped the spear once more.

“Ugh y/n, you need to be still and qui-“

“Shh” you shrieked, “I think something just swam.” You’re frozen in fear.

“Well duh, that’s you feeling-“

“No, something just swam up my loincloth.” You whispered worry consuming you.

“Oh shit.” He immediately removed himself from behind you to come face to face. Your hands now in midair, your eyes wide in shock.

“Don’t worry, y/n, just stay still.”

You breathed out. “Okay okay, what are you gonna do?”

“Just stay calm, I’m gonna reach it and pull it out.”

“Whaatt?!” you yelled, but you suddenly felt it squirm in between your legs. “Omg it feels like a snake, get it out Lo’ak.” You yelled frantically, your arms now griping on his strong shoulders, nails dicking into his back.

“Alright y/n, keep your eyes on me.” He says as he slowly tugs on the waistline of your loincloth, his fingers trailing downwards. You couldn’t focus on whether to feel embarrassed or scared, as you felt the creature maneuver in your loincloth. You curse yourself for not tying it tighter. Lo’ak’s arm drops to your ass cheek as if to support you, protecting yo from stumbling back. You glared at him. He smirked at you.

“You’re enjoying this aren’t you.” You whispered.

“A little y//n, cant believe I get to be so intimate with one of the hottest girls in the clan.”

“Just get it out, pleeassee.”

You feel his hand go lower, your eyes widen as you feel him touch your cunt. In one swift movement you feel him grab the creature, yank his hands out your loincloth, and hold up the wriggling creature. In his hands was an eel fish, covered in bioluminescent spots. He takes one look at it before he throws it in the opposite direction.

You yelp in fear. Before you know it you hurdle yourself towards the shore, cxompletely grossed out as you can still feel the eel squirming.

Lo’ak observes you as you shake uncontrollably, your hands rubbing your body as if to wash away the touch of the eel. He follows you to shore. Your face in obvious disgust. He grabs your wrist in an attempt to calm you down.

“Breath y/n.”

Your eyes met with his, now completely ashamed you drop your face.

“I never took you as one to be afraid.” He laughs.

You pull away from him as you reach for your loincloth to tie it tigheter. In your mind the lesson was over, there was no way he can get you back into the water. He snathces your hand once more.

“I need to look at it.”

Bewildered you blurted out

“Exxxcccuussseee me?!”

“Those eels are known to secrete toxins through their skin.”

“You’re kidding me.” Worry crept across your face.

“No y/n, it can cause swelling and muscular paralysis, let me check, one of the telltale signs is a pink rash and swelling.

“Oh Ewya.” You sighed. This just keeps getting worse. How much more humiliation can you take you thought to yourself.

Lo’ak guides you to the ground, his hand cushioning your head as he pushes you onto the ground. He unties your loincloth, cold air hitting your flesh, your legs bent towards you, your knees in the air. He pushes your leg apart so he can see your in your naked glory. You cover your eyes to avoid taking in the slight. He traces his fingers over your upper thigh to then your cunt.

“Anything?” you called out, eyes still covered.

Lo’ak doesn’t respond.

You open your eyes and propped yourself up with your elbows. Lo’ak pushes you back down with one hand.

“Nothing so far, but do I have permission to check, you know, in between?” he asked cautiously. His voice a little huskier than usual.

“Just get it over with.”

You feel his calloused finger’s part your folds, sending shivers down your spine. His finger brushed across your clit and traced it’s way to your entrance. The sudden touch awakens your arousal and you can feel a familiar heat began to pool.

“Well, y/n, you look good, no swelling, but you seem to be having another problem. “He groaned. He didn’t remove his hand from your lower region, his fingers began to massage at the entrance. You gasp, raising up once more. He removes his two digits to show you your slick oozing from his fingers. He smirks as he abruptly pushes his two digits into you. The most pornographic moan escape your lips, your body betraying you.

Lo’ak’s smirk grows bigger as he feels you soak his fingers with your slick. He positions himself in between your legs to tower you. His fingers still inside you as his lips snatches yours in a hungry and passionate kiss. “Tell me you want it y/n”. You sink into the lust and kiss him back, your tongues dancing with each other, teeth gnashing. His fingers pick up the pace causing you to moan into his kisses. He pulls away to lose your top, exposing your supple breasts.

He reaches to place a nipple into your mouth causing you to throw your head back. Your exposed neck tempts him as he moves towards your collar bone then to your upper neck leaving trails of hickies. You couldn’t care less as you enjoyed the moment. It’s been months since you’ve felt the touch of another male. The last person to please you was your ex, Tishalo, but since his betrayal, you’ve stayed away from any male companionship in efforts to heal. However, you have always found yourself attracted to the Sullys, and this was your chance to have one of them.

You grab the back of Lo’ak’s neck, forcing him down to give you another kiss. “ I want you Lo’ak!” He doesn’t deny you, he swiftly grabs you by the hips as he lowers himself, hovering above you above him, his braids cascading down his face, he sneered. You catch on and you straddle him, driven by lust, you continue to kiss him grinding on his restrained member. Your hands find the string of his loincloth to undo it. His member slaps against his v-line stomach, you look at it in awe. It was bigger than you expected, longer than you expected, decorated with veins.

“What are you waiting for y/n, take this cock in you now.”

You grab his member by the base positioning it in your entryway. You gasp as you lower yourself on his thick meat. Stretching you out you don’t move, allowing yourself to adjust to his size. He impatiently grabs your hips and begins to mercilessly thrust into you. Your breast bounced at each thrust, the ungodly moans escaping your pretty, parted lips.

“Tell me you like this cock in you y/n”

“Oh yess Lo’ak, yeeeesss, fuucck meee.” You breathed, your eyes rolling back. You stop bouncing, grinding you hips onto his dick, leaving a trial of wetness on his pelvis. He lifts you up off him, pushing you onto your fours. Lo’ak hovers over your back pushing your face towards the ground, hand gripping at your waist as he angles you to take his dick. Your arms outstretched onto the ground, nipples rubbing onto the forest floor.

“Beg for it mama” He hums into you ear.

“Fill me upLo’ak I want you soo baad.” You cry out.

You arch your back as you feel him enter you again. His rapid thrusts causes you to mewl. Your hips begin to move simultaneously with his as you bring yourself down harder onto him, the knot in your stomach getting stronger, your high was near.

“Lo’ak im gonna cummm” you scream, your walls fluttering onto his cock. He reaches over to rub your clit, thrusting harder into you, sending you over the edge, you cream onto his cock.

“That’s it mama.” He grunts as he gives you one hard thrust pulling at your hair, spilling his seeds onto your back.

You turn around to see his chest heaving, sweat dripping from his brow as a sinister grin plaster across his face.

“Y/n you should know that that eel, it wasn’t toxic.”

Your eyes widen and mouth drops, unable to from any coherent word, you stare at Lo’ak as he gets up to wash off in the lake.

Sooo Lo'ak is definitely my bias and there's a shortage of Lo'ak fics out there compared to Neteyam fics soo this my contribution to society. Forgive the bad grammar and lack of proof-reading.

[artficlly]

a dish served cold (mini series - part one)

Wild West Marvel AU

outlaw!bucky x reader after the murder of your pa, you go on a journey to find justice. fate brings you to crimson junction for a reason, and that reason is bucky barnes. 

Warnings: enemies to lovers, forced proximity, violence, mentions of death, blood, mention of guns, alcohol, swearing, creepy men, period typical attitudes, outlaw bucky, protective bucky, bucky has issues, mention of robbery & crimes, mention of police (law), mention of flooding & drought, vague mention of animal death, no use of y/n, lmk if i've missed anything

Word Count: 3k

A/N: hiya! it's been awhile. i started a first draft of this story literally like a year ago? it's gone through so many changes to the plot (it was originally called queen of the gunslingers). this has been so refreshing and wonderful to write, i wasn't even sure if i was ever going to post it because western marvel au is so niche but i know a few people enjoyed me & the devil so!! this mini series is pre written so i'll be trying to post updates weekly as i edit. the series is sitting around 25k-30k words and will be 7 chapters long. if you'd like a tag list let me know. sorry for any typos - not proof read.

main masterlist | series masterlist

Rain was supposed to be a welcome sight. 

The inhabitants of Crimson Junction had been thankful for the blessing, a relief from the drought that had plagued them. The surrounding areas had been unceremoniously crowned The Dustbowl after seven years of no rain. Fierce winds had blown in, kicking up the dirt, sand, and dust, blanketing the surrounding areas. Crops failed to grow, animals suffocated, and homes were buried. Most left the area, choosing to abandon their land in search of fruitful and safe territories.

The canyons bled crimson the day the rains came; water mixed with the red soil and rock. The people of Crimson Junction celebrated, their prayers were finally answered. It was only as the valleys began to flood and the once barren riverbeds overflowed that the inhabitants considered the bleeding waters an omen. 

Those who lived out in the west were familiar with danger. Out in the open, death lurked everywhere. It watched from the desert, a darkness always lingering a few feet away. Death took on many forms—a bullet, a wound, a sickness—but when the rain came disguised as a blessing, no one was prepared for its wrath. 

Floods wiped away entire homesteads. Homes and countless heads of cattle were lost to the raging waters, swept downstream, and smashed between debris. Survivors, soaked and shivering in their nightgowns and nightshirts, gathered in the small crossroads town of Crimson Junction. Fortunately, the town had been spared, but it had become an island, isolated in a lake of thick, deep, red mud. Travellers and misplaced locals sought shelter, and the town came to life overnight. The canyons were unstable and too dangerous to travel due to the landslides and debris blockages, and with mud up to your elbows, it would be impossible to walk through, let alone lead a packhorse. So, you were all stranded, patiently waiting until the roads were cleared. 

It appeared fate had led you to Crimson Junction for a reason. 

The hotel attendant sighed as you descended the stairs of the rickety building, the older man muttering about the mud tracked in through the entrance. Even Crimson Junction had not been spared the sludge. The thick, red substance appeared to be a problem in every establishment in the area, gradually caked onto not only your clothes and shoes but also the flooring. 

You gave the attendant a shy nod of your head as you exited into the night. The chill of the night air bit at your bare skin, and you were suddenly grateful for the layers of skirts that pooled around your legs. The road so far had been hot and sticky, with layers of dust that clung to your skin. When it was not still and scorching, the winds would whip violently. Sand and rocks had pelted you, leaving your skin stinging and your hair tangled. The floods had allowed the temperature to finally drop below the pits of hell. 

You hesitantly depart the porch of the motel, the heels of your riding boots clicking as you lower yourself onto the street. Wooden planks squelched under your weight as they sank deeper into the sludge. The town had tried to combat the muck by laying out boards to traverse, but despite their good intentions, the wooden boards seemed to sink deeper and deeper with each passing day. The streets echoed something more akin to a pigsty than a walkable path. 

With the chill in the air, you hugged your arms around your bodice, still making sure to hike up your skirts to prevent them from dragging through the mud. Ever since finding yourself stuck after the rains, you had resigned yourself to your hotel room. You slept and read to pass the time, and your horse was boarded at the stables for a hefty price. But after days of waiting and your funds running low, you found yourself feeling rather antsy, your impatience growing the longer you waited. With impatience came risk and rash decisions, so, against your better judgement, you opted for a strong drink at the saloon to quieten your mind. 

The saloon was alive with music and chatter, with other stranded travellers slurring their words or in a state of undress despite the sun only having recently set. You expected many of them to have wondered into the establishment not long after awakening from whatever alley they had drunkenly stumbled into the night before. It certainly smelled like it, with clothing plastered in mud to match. The chaos allowed you to slip in quietly, finding an empty spot along the bar. You frowned at the coating of muck congealed onto the floor, a mixture of questionable liquids you did not want to identify. With a wave of your hand and coins slid over the sticky bar, you were content staring into space as laughter and singing broke out around you. 

Your peace was short-lived. Out of the corner of your eye, you could see a looming shape as a body slid in beside you. Your eyes stayed locked on your drink, only noticing the scent of whiskey and sweat clinging to the man. 

“Where have you been hidin’, Miss? I ain’t never seen a woman as pretty as you in these parts.”

You expected a lady such as yourself to be few and far between in these lands. Most of the folks who roamed this far into the desert were hardy, stocky, and rough around the edges. You did not fault them for it, but rather a sense of admiration for the determination it had taken to live through the seven years of drought. You were, arguably, a bit delicate in appearance. Though, it was a purposeful presentation. Pristine and shining among the filth. Your hands were smooth; there were no calluses or scars. Hair neatly pinned back, and a clean and tidy handkerchief knotted around your neck. Your skin was untainted by the sun, and your lips were unpeeled. Your dress, though not the height of city fashion, was impractical for such a lifestyle as farming or droving. The layers of fabric were orderly, with intermittent embroidery and lace. You had lived a comfortable life, and it was clear you were raised to be a wife and homemaker. Your Pa had worked hard to afford you such a future.

“Not from these parts.” You spoke into your glass as you raised it to your lips with an eye-roll. A gentle girl you might have been to your Pa, but he was not present. And you were not feeling particularly in favour of being pleasant. 

“Traveller, like myself. Guessin’ you stuck ‘cause of the floods too?” The man mused, leaning his forearms against the sticky bar. He shifted his body forward, craning his neck as if desperate to catch a proper glimpse at your face. 

“Somethin’ like that.” You respond dryly, unmoving. 

“Say, you interested in havin’ a good night, sweetheart? I got a room in the hotel over yonder if you wanna join me.” 

Grinding your teeth in annoyance, you jerk your head around to face the man.

“What do you take me for?” You snap at him. You take note of his greying hair and the locks thinning along his hairline. His beard, with uneven, yellowing teeth revealed by cracked lips, turned into a sneer. 

“I didn’t mean no insult, darlin’.” He starts, “I ain’t insinuating you’re an easy mark, sweetheart. Just knew I couldn’t let a catch like you go walkin’ out of here without at least tryin’.”

“Charmin’,” you huff. “Did you not consider that I would never want to lay with a dimwitted pest such as yourself?” As you speak, you can see his once-toothy grin harden into gritted teeth and a look of drunken rage wash over his features. 

"Well, ain’t you a quick one, huh?” He spits out, his body looming closer. Only moments before the two of you had been invisible, another set of bodies in the crowded saloon. As his voice began to rise, you could feel heads turning and eyes locking onto the both of you as the scene unfolded. “A fuckin’ tease, ain’t ya? Hangin’ around this bar all by yourself, askin’ for it. You tellin’ me a lady like yourself travelling alone ain’t some whore lookin’ for some attention?”

You roll your eyes once more, shooting back the last of your drink. Perhaps it would’ve been wiser to remain in your hotel room. Back turned, you begin to walk away from the seething man. In your brief moment of naivety and vunrablitiness, he wraps his mud-clad hands around your forearm, yanking you backwards towards the bar. 

“Now where ya think you’re goin’ now, miss? I weren’t done talkin’ to you.” He hissed into your ear, the stench of his warm whiskey breath fanning across your face. You began to lower your hands, reaching for your riding boot. Your fingers gathered your skirts, entangling themselves in the fabrics as you hoisted up the layers. Your hands drew closer to your knees, your back pressing into the hardwood bar, twisting your torso away from the man. 

A gruff voice quickly interrupted, drawing your attention away. 

“You know this man, ma'am?” The low voice asks. You glance over at it’s owner, a dark-haired man, and look him over with one sweep. 

The man was familiar to you, though he wouldn’t know you. Out of all of the towns you had visited in the past few weeks, there was scarcely any that failed to have his likeness plastered upon a bounty board. James Buchanan Barnes. Or Bucky, as he was more commonly known. The papers and gossip of fellow travellers spun a tale, one of a group of heartless butchers and thieves. He was wanted for a train robbery gone wrong in the south. A decent price upon his head, as well as that of his gang. From what you had read, the group had split in an attempt to lose the law. One had gone north, another deeper south, while Barnes had gone west. 

The posse of outlaws had been lucky, as the law had hurridly dismissed the chase; a different high-profile robbery had drawn their attention away. One they had prioritised more than the livelihoods of the lowerclass who had been on the train that day. Bounty hunters still pursued, but mostly the world moved on. Some Duke from Europe had been robbed while exploring the west too trustingly, and the story had become an overnight sensation. So Barnes and his companions had become a distant whisper, a sun-bleached and fraying poster behind a bar. 

But you had not forgotten Bucky Barnes. 

“No.” You finally choke out in reply, your hand raising back to thigh-height as you stand tall. When faced with a killer, you had anticpated a feeling of disgust, but instead a burning curiosity roared through your veins. 

Barnes lets out a slow breath, his eyes darting over the unwelcome man. Barnes was easily twice his size, with pure muscle and a wicked look in his eye. There was a charm to him, you supposed, in a rugged, dark-handsome stranger, saviour of damsels in distress type of way. Messy dark hair peaked out from beneath his hat; some pieces curled around the nape of his neck. Behind his dark lashes were icy blue eyes, with the crinkle of a smirk at the corners. Like many others, there was a hint of red earth dusted across his face, neck, and hands. The clothes covering his broad, muscled body looked well-worn, and his boots were caked in mud. You noted the two revolvers slung around his hips and a bandolier stocked with ammunition across his chest.

“Do you want to know this man?” He asks again.

You lift your chin. “No.”

“Good.”

Before you can react, Barnes has leapt forward, landing a solid upper-cut on the drunk man with a grunt. The room erupted into cheers and whistles as the two clashed, glasses smashing and furniture overturned in their wake. You stood frozen, fingers in a white fist around your skirts. There was the sickening sound of bones crunching beneath flesh, and blood sprayed in droplets across sodden floors. As quickly as it started, it was over. One of the bartenders promptly escorted the unruly man out as he seethed and yelled obscenities. The saloon crowd roared back, a pulse of excitement and adreline rushing through the saloon. Barnes put his hands up in surrender as the barkeep eyed him cautiously, but the barkeep inevitably backed off, returning to safety behind the bar. Barnes sweeps a hand through his messy locks, his eyes darting around in search of his hat, which had been knocked to the floor. 

Against your better judgement, you bend down, retrieving the hat. You brush some of the red dust and broken glass from the brim before handing it back to the outlaw. He places it solidly back on his head.

“I appreciate your concern, but you didn’t need to do that, Mr.” You tell him, and he shrugs. 

“If you say so.” Barnes goes to turn away, then thinks better of it. Sucking his teeth, he tilts his head, looking you up and down once again. His eyes linger on your hair, then your dress, before finally settling on your clenched fists. “You travellin’ alone, Miss?”

“I don’t see why that's any of your business, Mr…?” You trail off, fingers flexing as you force yourself to loosen the grip on your skirts.

“Mr. Clark. Benjamin Clark.”

A false name. Clever. 

“Right.” 

He chuckles with a shake of his head, tapping the bar for a drink to be sent his way. Exhaustion seems to embody his very being; fatigue hangs from his bones like his own flesh and muscle. He doesn’t seem to notice your analysing stare; his focus is instead drawn to wiping off the splatter of blood that had been spat in his face at some point during the commotion. 

“Look, Miss…?” He begins with a sigh, finally looking you in the eye. 

“Nellie Chase.” You lie through your teeth, watching him through your eyelashes. His tongue darts out, wetting his lips as he looks down at you. 

“Look, Miss Chase. I don’t know yer circumstances, but it ain’t safe for a lady such as yerself to be travellin’ alone, especially in these parts. I imagine you was just passin’ through like the rest of us, then got stuck ‘cause of all that rain. But, with men and women of all sorts all trapped up together like this… well, it’s bound to cause trouble. You’d be better to stay locked up in your rooms, Miss; it would be safer than roughin’ it out with this lot.” 

You hold back a scoff and instead opt to lift your chin. A smirk pulls at the corners of your mouth as you take a step closer to the outlaw, eyebrows raised and head cocked to one side. “Well, thank you for your wisdom, Mr. Clark, but I am perfectly capable of handlin’ myself.”

A glass of whiskey was now in his hand, and you coolly slid over a coin to pay for it before he could. He blinks at you in surprise, and you flash him a grin in response. With narrowed eyes, he swallows back half of the amber liquid. 

“I imagine so.” He lets out gruffly. “Where are ya’ headed?”

“Saguaro Basin.” 

“Saguaro Basin? Wha’chu doin’ headed that way? Last I heard, there was some bad business in those parts. Cholera and all that.”

“I’m goin’ to be married.” You make a point of flashing the ring on your finger, which is met with a half-interested grunt. He didn’t seem to question how garish it was or how the metal did not match the earrings dangling from either side of your head. Though you imagined, you could not expect a man to notice such details as a woman might. 

“Yer gettin’ married and yer husband-to-be ain’t even got the time to come get’chu himself?”

“Well, I imagine he is quite busy workin’, and it is such a long distance to get there and back. So he paid for me to take the coach, as it is supposed to be safer—” You cut yourself off with a frown as you notice his eyebrows raise. You clear your throat as you decide to shift the topic. “So, where are you headed then, Mr. Clark?”

“Same as you. West. Bit further, though maybe more Marielle ways.”

“Marielle… that’s…?” You trail off. You knew exactly where Marielle was, nestled deep into the western deserts and canyons. Once, it was the home of outlaws, whores, and rustlers. These days, it had been transformed into some sort of respectable town with the help of the law and the church. In fact, it seemed the now bustling town had grown in size from it’s humble beginnings and was becoming a hotspot of trade and business in the deep west. You’d heard mention of the fearsome prison that had been erected not two years ago, where prisoners were subject to hard labour while awaiting their sentencing. 

“Long past Saguaro Basin, that’s for sure.”

“Right.”

You were met with silence, but continue to pry. Would he spin a grand, elaborate tale just as you had done yourself? Or would he tell the truth—a raw, bitter confession of guilt to just another pretty, misplaced lady stuck in Crimson Junction? This was all rather exciting. 

“What brings you there? Business, pleasure… family?” 

“Business.”  

“What kind?” You dare to push further. 

“Not the type’a business a lady such as yerself would be interested in.” 

“How so?” You seem to be out of luck; as the outlaws patience had grown thin. You could practically hear the tension snap as he let out a low ‘hmph’, reluctant to answer the question. Your fingers dance across the sticky bar as you ponder if you should push your questions further, but Barnes had other plans. Taking a long swig from his glass, he finishes the last of his whiskey and gets to his feet. 

“Well, Miss Chase, I thank you for the drink but I must be goin’ now. And you should get back to yer rooms and keep outta’ trouble now.”

The outlaw did not stay long enough to hear your farewell, preferring to slink wordlessly out of the building. With a smile, you lean against the bar, motioning for the barkeep to get you another drink. 

Fate had led you to Crimson Junction for a reason, and how gratifying it was to know why.

PART TWO

[rose-lunaire]

nbc hannibal characters during summer vacation: headcanons

pairing: hannibal x gn!reader, will x gn!reader, bedelia x gn!reader

warnings: none, just fluff! suggestive content if you squint

hannibal lecter

summer’s not his favourite season, it’s way too hot for a his liking, but he enjoys it nevertheless

coat lazily draped over his shoulder, the sleeves of the shirt tucked meticulously just under the elbows, exposing the veiny forearms, slightly drenched in sweat and musky perfume

he would invite you for evening walks in downtown vienna, explaining every bit of the astonishing architecture

he loves your curiosity, how you find beauty in all things around, your eyes seem to bring out the best in everything that’s around

dark narrow streets of cobblestone feel safe with his arm around your waist

night museum tours!

stargazing through the glass walls of pyramide du louvre

as he goes on about the meaning of each constellation his eyes always come back to you, the center of his night sky, his universe

he can’t draw ever his gaze away from your awestruck face

the night walks never seem to end, the city’s like a mythological labirynth hannibal creates with his never-ending tales

in the end you forget about everything and just follow him into the dark

will graham

he’s an outdoorsy guy and every extra hour of sunlight is the best gift for him

would take you backpacking in the mountains

weeks of astounding views, piece and quiet, just birds and stars keeping you company

you talk for hours, sometimes just savour the silence around you

he’s prepared for everything: rain? he has two raincoats in your favourite colour. craving a home-cooked meal? will has a tourist cooker and all necessary ingredients. and when you’re cold at night, he drapes a warm blanket over both of you, enveloping you in a loving, almost too hot, embrace

if you’re not into survival stuff so much, you could just go see the waterfalls during the weekend and roast some marshmallows over the fireplace in the comfort of your own home

he loves your summer tan!

you would go sunbathing to the nearby lake and spend the afternoon reading books on the pier

and in the evening you would rent a boat and cruise into the setting sun, scaring all the swans with your laughter

bedelia du maurier

i can see her yachting as soon as the ice melts in the bay

would take you on trips along the west coast, visiting every city and village you see

you would discover new dishes and experiment with new drinks

sometimes you would stay the night on the coast, enjoy the nightlife until the sun rises

every day is an adventure with her

prosecco and reading philosophy essays

would definitely splurge on sundresses and silk headscarfs

everywhere you go, people seem to think of her as some aristocracy of sorts

she enjoys the attention and uses it to get anything you want

the world’s your oyster

a/n: have a wonderful summer, everyone! send me asks <3

[ash5monster01]

Getaway Camp : Prologue

Pairing: Charlie Dalton x OC!FemReader

Warnings: language, flirting, fluff, annoyance towards others, harsh parents, meet cute.

Summary: Charlie leaves home early for volunteer work in the Catskills, finally feeling free from his father, and on the path to the life he always dreamed of having. Yet when he arrives he meets someone who can’t help but capture his attention and he realizes fairly quickly that he’s already screwed.

word count: 2.3k

Masterlist

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June 4th 1961

Charlie wouldn’t consider himself much of a nature guy, but anything would do if it meant getting out of his parent’s house sooner. He had already been accepted to Columbia in the Fall but he didn’t have enough money to rent an apartment in the city quite yet. Which is how he discovered Adler’s West Lake Resort and Lodge. His counselor said the school looked fondly onto volunteers who worked there in the summer. So Charlie packed everything up and got himself the job. After all how bad could it be? A summer away in the Catskills, free food, free boarding, and a few rowing lessons here and there. He could handle it.

“Alright honey, do you need anything for your drive?” his mother asked from the porch, watching as he loaded his stuff in the back of the station wagon. She tried to pretend that she didn’t notice he had packed everything but a small part of her heart broke. This was truly it.

“I’m fine Mom, I promise” he told her, mind stuck on the five hour drive ahead of him.

“Okay honey, make sure you call and let us know when you get there” and both of them pretended not to notice the small chuckle that left his fathers mouth as he read the paper on the patio furniture.

“I will and you have the address and number to the resort already” Charlie reminded her, jogging up the porch where he quickly towered over his mother’s height. She hated how tall he had gotten, a grown man now, no longer her little boy.

“Be safe and good luck at school” she told him before pulling him into a hug. Charlie squeezed her right back, thankful to at least have a loving mother.

“I will Mom, thank you” he told her and she sighed, fighting back tears that threatened to spill over. Her only child driven away by the harsh expectations of her husband. He had been hurt so much by the world already and the minute he graduates high school he is off and running away from her.

“I’m about to head off, sir” Charlie says as he pulls away from his mom, walking to stand in front of his father.

“Good, you wouldn’t want to hit the afternoon rush traffic outside of the city” his father mutters, hands flipping the page of his newspaper. He felt that he owed nothing to his son. The only things his son had ever done was get himself kicked out of the best school in Vermont and cost him a lot of money pulling strings to still get him in an ivy league school.

“Exactly so thank you sir” Charlie said, holding his hand out and waiting for his father to bid him goodbye. He never cared much about what his father thought of him but he also figured if his father didn’t say some sort of goodbye he would always have control over some aspect of his life.

“Goodbye son, don’t dick around too much. That’s my name you’re tainting when you do that” his father responded, hand sliding into his own and firmly shaking it.

“I’ll do my best sir, I promise” Charlie said before letting his father’s hand go one last time. He was going to use these next four years to his benefit and take the well deserved break he needed. He couldn’t believe he spent all those years at Welton wishing his parents wanted him around more. What a waste.

“I guess we’ll see” is the last thing he says to him before returning his attention to the paper in his hand. Sighing Charlie brushes his hands down the front of his button up shirt and turns back to his Mom with a soft smile.

“Goodbye Mama” he says, swiftly kissing her cheek and the tears finally break through and cascade down her cheeks as Charlie jogs to his car that holds every piece of his belongings. He knew he didn’t need all of it for camp but he also knew his car could act as a private storage locker so he wound haven’t come back here before classes started.

“Bye baby, we’ll miss you” she calls out as the car rumbled to life and Charlie waved a hand out as he shifted the car in gear and headed down the long driveway. He knew his father would more than likely not miss him but it was kind that his mother still tried, so he waved his hand out his open window for her until she could no longer see him driving down the road.

The drive was fairly easy. Only two missed turns and one incident with a wrinkled map and Charlie was finally pulling his car up to the main lodge, the sun casted over the large lake beside it. It was quiet since campers wouldn’t be here until next week and Charlie was surprised to feel peace from the quiet and warmth that resonated in the area around him. Killing the engine he stepped out the car and started for the doors, prepared for direction to his cabin for the next three months.

“Hello camper!” a chirpy blonde girl perked up as he pushed through the cabin doors. He briefly wondered if it was an act, to be so excited about not having a real shower and mosquotio bites for three months on end. Yet the bright white smile on her face suggested otherwise.

“Hey” Charlie muttered, not one for too much enthusiasm. Actually he was pretty sure he hadn't been excited about anything since his Junior year of high school.

“Did you just arrive?” she asked, hands reaching for a large book that Charlie figured held all the information on every worker for the entirety of the camp. It's possible the smile could be fake but someone with this much responsibility had to enjoy this life somewhat.

“Yeah, Charles Dalton. I’m a Columbia volunteer, new rowing instructor” he said finally reaching the desk, hands falling and crossing over the top. He just wanted to find a bed and lay in it, especially after that drive.

“Well welcome Charles, let me grab your orientation packet and parking pass” she grinned still as cheerful and Charlie nodded, almost scared by how happy she is.

“Just Charlie is fine” he told her and she nodded before bouncing off and finding all the things he needed to get settled in. After only a few minutes she had a small stack of papers set in front of him.

“Okay so everything you need to know you can find in here. Cabin number, work schedule, map of the resort, and anything else you can imagine. When you get to your lodge you’ll find your walkie and uniform waiting for you. Meals and everything are all inclusive for staff and we hope you have a great summer” she finished her well practiced spiel and Charlie smiled as he collected the thick packet from in front of him.

“Thanks..”

“Claire” she filled in and he nodded.

“Thanks Claire, see you around” he tells her before heading back towards the front doors and where he left his car. Using the map to find employee parking Charlie found himself unloading the two suitcases he packed specifically meant for camp and locking up the rest of his belongings in his car. It was a bit harder to find the cabins but finally he was in the upper woods, brown buildings matching the next all in various rows. A big fire burning with a few people chattering around it and Charlie quickly looked for cabin number sixteen.

Valerie had only been here an hour and already smelled like wood smoke. This wouldn't have been the case if she didn't somehow end up in a cabin with Chrissy Norwick. Valerie didn't necessarily mind the girl but she liked having a chill first day and Chrissy already had five girls compiled in the small shared cabin as she retold the stories of each date she had with Nate Fanning over the school year. She knew it would be the same thing, Nate would appear at camp and pretend Chrissy didn't exist, that was until the fall when he no longer had all of the camps options to focus on.

So Valerie sat by the fire with a few old friends she had been volunteering with since she was sixteen and listened to their much more relaxed conversation as she waited for her cabin to be much less crowded. It was then she saw a taller boy, chestnut hair falling in his eyes, as he walked the trail up into the cabins. It wasn't often new volunteers came around here so she was immediately perking up. He was handsome, in a soft way. A suitcase hung from each of his arms and she could tell from the hike and the strain off the weight, his chest was puffing out broadly. The small beads of sweat collecting at his hair line convinced her to approach him before no one else could.

"Hey, you need some help?" she curiously asked, straightening out her shirt as she appeared on the trail beside him. He jumped only lightly due to her quick appearance and she tried to hide her amusment.

"I’m fine" he muttered even though his hair was now starting to stick to his forehead from sweat.

“First rule as a staff camper, no job is too small to ask for help” and she was snatching one of the suit cases out of his hand that had been weighing him down the entire trek up the hill. Realizing she wasn’t going away anytime soon he finally took a moment to take her in. The white staff shirt laid across her shoulders and the eagle symbol stretched across the center of her chest. He admired her full hips and bright smile. Her long brunette hair tied high in a ponytail that hung in curly strands down her back. She was pretty and he was supposed to last all summer around girls like this. He prayed she wasn’t a lifeguard.

“For the record, I never asked” he told her before starting towards the cabins where she followed quickly behind.

“Well what cabin is yours then Mr. Independent?” she asked, ignoring his previous statement, and the boy sighed. He was realizing pretty quickly that most people around here were pretty cheerful and stubborn.

“Sixteen and the name is Charlie” he caved and finally she was beaming a smile back at him that made her eyes sparkle. He hated that her eyes sparkled.

“Well Charlie I’m Valerie and you’re in luck. I just so happen to be in cabin fifteen” and she was walking along and leaving him behind, going in a direction all too familiar to her. Charlie was a bit shocked by her ease but followed nonetheless as she led him to a destination he had been counting on the last five hours.

"So clearly you're new, so I'll share some wise wisdom as a camper of three years" Valerie told him, thrilled to have something to do other than stare at a campfire in the middle of the day. The June sun was already hot enough. "Never use the showers on the south end. Theyre used the least so not only do they include a variety of bugs you've never seen before but they’re also the showers that lose hot water first"

"This is not making this anymore exciting" Charlie says and the laugh that comes from Valerie surprises them both. Charlie hates the way the sound wraps around his heart and makes him content.

"If Big Al enters the bathrooms wait at least thirty minutes before going in. If you don't know who that is you'll find out fairly quickly. If it's an emergency we're surrounded by woods for a reason" and now Charlie is the one laughing which based on his attitude when they first met has Valerie fairly surprised.

"Lastly tuesday nights mystery dinner sounds fun but it's actually a mix of leftovers from the previous week so we have staff dinner here" Valerie says just as they approach cabin sixteen only to hear the girl laughs from the one beside it.

"Shouldn't you be in there giggling away?" Charlie asks as he takes his suitcase from her and sets them both on the small porch step.

"God no, no use giggling about cute boys inside when I can be out here talking to them" and much to Charlie's surprise she winks at him as if it was the most natural thing in the world. It’s so quick he's almost convinced he didn't see it.

"You seem to have it all figured out Valerie" Charlie says and she softly shrugs, glancing up at the tall trees above them. Birds chirp and in a few hours the cicadas would buzz and she'd finally be right back at home.

"I'm sure there is more I'm forgetting to share but when I remember I promise to tell you. In the mean time Charlie you can find me at cabin fifteen or the lake" she says, oddly comforted by the new guy herself. There was something nice about knowing she got to be the one to greet him here.

"Why the lake?" he curiously asks as Valerie moves to walk away and she flashes a quick grin at him, fingers gliding through her curly brown hair and Charlie nervously gulps.

"I'm a lifeguard" she informs him and for the first time for the entirety of this conversation Charlie accepts that he's screwed. Valerie was not the kind of girl you ignore despite how badly he wanted too. Now worst of all he had to spend every single day of the summer with her in tiny red bathingsuits.

"Of course you are” he says and she quickly flashes him a grin before starting back the way they came, ignoring the group of girls in her very own cabin. Charlie hates how he watches her walk away, admiring her long tan legs in her tight jean shorts. It had been ten minutes and he was already screwed.

“Shit”

Happy 35th Anniversary to DPS. This is my love letter to this film <3

Comment if you want to be added to the taglist :))

[justagalwhowrites]

Lavender - Ch. 45

You, Joel and Ellie make your way into Salt Lake City. A continuation of Lavender Ch. 1-44 found on Tumblr here.

Pairing: Joel Miller x Female Reader

Warnings: Mild canon-typical violence. No use of Y/N. Minors DNI, 18+ only.

Length: 5.4K

“I’m just realizing,” you said as you walked alongside Joel and Ellie. “I was not very well traveled before the outbreak.” 

“You’d made it a few places,” Joel frowned a little. “Got out of your hometown and shit, more than you can say for most people…” 

Ellie frowned, too. 

“Wait,” she said. “Most people would really just… stay in one place? Even when they could leave?” 

“Oh yeah,” Joel said. “Most people just stuck where they were. I moved to a different town from where I was born but same state. Doc made it a lot further than me.” 

You shrugged. 

“Just for college,” you said. “The point is, this is the furthest west that I’ve ever been. How strange is that? That it took me until the end of the world to get to this side of the country…” 

“But you had planes!” Ellie gaped at you both. “You could go in the sky and you just didn’t? What the fuck, man?” 

You and Joel both laughed at that. 

It had been one of Ellie’s better days. She was rabidly curious, asking about a million questions as you closed in on Salt Lake City. Judging by the mile markers, you only had one more night of sleeping on the road before you made it to the Fireflies’ facility - assuming this one wasn’t abandoned too, anyway - and it had been a really good last day on the road. 

The thought was strangely bittersweet, a sense of finality to your looming arrival in the city. You wanted to get Ellie to the Fireflies. You wanted to start work on a cure. It had been so long since you’d been in a lab now, part of you was itching to get back into it. Hell, getting back to doing anything but the minimum when it came to medicine sounded incredible. 

But you didn’t want to change anything about your time with Joel and Ellie. You’d even be fine living on the road forever if it meant the three of you got to be together all the time. The Firefly compound was an unknown. You weren’t sure if they would LET you stay together - though you doubted Joel would let them separate you. But if their doctors wanted to keep Ellie in a contained environment for a while to make sure she didn’t come down with anything while they drew samples, you weren’t going to push back on them. You’d come too far to quibble over something so small. But you still dreaded it, not being with them all the time. 

It reminded you a little of the feeling in your stomach when you first started adjusting to the QZ with Andrew. You’d become so used to functioning with him glued to your side, constantly watching each other’s backs for danger and killing to keep the other alive, even a room’s distance was disorienting and anxiety inducing. The makeshift medical camp was a rude awakening when you’d arrived, that much you knew even though your memories of it were vague at best. You remembered arriving to the QZ, your arms firmly around Andrew’s waist and his arm around your shoulders, clutching onto each other. You were covered in blood, your shotgun dangling from your arm. They’d had to pry you apart to examine you both and it was like someone was ripping away a part of your body. You’d tried to ease yourselves into some separation after that. Different rooms for a bit, a few hours in different buildings after that. It took months to sleep apart. 

You didn’t think it would be that extreme this time. You knew better what to expect, for one. For another, you’d all been living with the damage dealt by surviving the end of the world. Ellie had been born into it. Who Joel was now was forged in it. You, it seemed, had just melted into it, who you were finding little paths through the chaos like water through cracks in cement. You would all get through this differently, but you could get through it. That you knew. 

It also helped that Jackson was waiting on the other side. You weren’t sure how long it would take to get there, but you’d get there. There was a house with a room that Ellie could make her own - you’d paint her a solar system in a corner and constellations on the ceiling. There was a kitchen where you could make the cookies you’d been baking for so long you had the recipe memorized. There was a porch where Joel could play guitar. There were kids Ellie’s age she could meet and laugh with and maybe fall in love with the way she deserved to. There were people to play cards with and drink with and have inside jokes with. There was life there, life that was worth living outside of just the three of you. 

You just had to get there. That’s all. 

“Flying wasn’t that special, Gremlin,” you said smiling a little. “It was expensive and they tried to cram in as many people as possible so they made as much money as they possibly could. And you had to get to the airport hours early so they could search all your stuff… Really, it was a hassle.” 

“Is that why people didn’t do it?” She frowned. “Go places, I mean.” 

“Travel cost a lot of money,” Joel said. “More than most people had just lyin’ around. Stayin’ home was a lot easier and a lot cheaper.” 

Ellie scrunched her face. 

“Everyone acts like before was so fucking great but a lot of it sounds shitty,” she said. “Why make it so not everyone can do the cool shit? That’s dumb.” 

“I agree,” you smiled a little. 

“I hope it’s better this time,” she kicked a piece of asphalt. “Once there’s a cure, I mean. Like I know it’ll take a while and shit, they’re going to have to make the thing and then give it to everyone and whatever but I hope they don’t keep the shitty stuff from before.” 

Joel looked skeptical so you jumped in before he had a chance to. 

“We’ve never had a chance to kind of reset humanity before,” you said. “We might be able to make things way better than they ever were before. Who knows.” 

“That’d be cool,” she nodded. “Then at least it’s not like all this shit was for nothing, you know?  Like… yeah, it was all really fucked up for a while and people did really messed up things to each other but in the end, we did something good with it. You know?” 

“Yeah,” you smiled at her a bit. “I do.” 

The three of you called it a day about 15 miles from Salt Lake City. You knew if you kept walking for a bit that you’d probably find a house to stay in for the night but Joel seemed to have the same mindset as you. One more night, the three of you, camped out on the road. You’d be with the Fireflies tomorrow night, in a place with a roof and beds and doors, but the sky was clear and the weather was - relatively - warm. One last night under the sky, just the three of you, before the world changed. 

Joel built a fire and Ellie shot a rabbit. You got the last of the herbs you’d grabbed from Bill and Frank’s to dress the animal up a bit, making it feel like something special. You played poker around the fire, Ellie cleaning out both you and Joel. 

“If Vegas is ever a thing again, you need to go,” you said as you got the cards picked up. “You’d ruin the casinos’ day.” 

“Should start a poker night in Jackson,” Joel said. “She’d hustle half the damn town before anyone got wise….” 

You convinced Joel to sleep through the night and let you and Ellie split the watch - something you were counting as a win. He’d been pushing himself too hard since you’d left the cabin. It had taken you just over a week to get this far and he’d pulled two all night watches in that time and covered at least half of all the others.  You weren’t sure if it was paranoia, if it was fulfilling some need to look out for the two of you until he physically couldn’t do it anymore, if he had a bad feeling and he was doing everything he could to defend against the source of it. He wasn’t talking to you about it so you were just trying to keep an eye on him the best you could. He was more fragile than he looked, you knew. You’d wait until you were safely with the Fireflies and had some time alone before you really tried to get anything out of him. 

But letting you and Ellie handle the watches without him was a change. You hoped it meant he was doing better, that he was starting to feel like he could relax. You pressed yourself against his front as he headed to his sleeping bag for the night, reaching up to scratch your fingers through his beard before tugging his lips to yours. His arms slug around your waist and he pulled you close and you smiled against his lips. 

“What’s that for?” He asked when you pulled away eventually. 

You shrugged. 

“Just love you is all,” you said. 

“Love you too,” he kissed your forehead. “Wake me up the second you think somethin’ might be wrong, got it?” 

“I promise I won’t try to handle a damn thing all on my own,” you rolled your eyes a bit and he lay down beside the fire to sleep. 

The watch was quiet and still, nothing raising any alarms for you, even when you took the short walks around the perimeter of your little camp. It was pushing 4 a.m. when Ellie started jerking in her sleeping bag. You frowned, watching her for a moment to see if it passed. It didn’t, her thrashing getting worse as she whimpered. You knelt beside her and set the rifle out of reach before you gently touched her arm. 

“Ellie,” you said quietly, calmly. “You’re OK Baby Girl, you’re OK…” 

She jerked awake and shot upright, throwing your hand sharply away. She was panting and gasping for breath, her eyes wide and glistening with tears in the light of the moon and the dying fire. She looked at you for a moment before it was like something in her cracked and she choked out a sob, her head falling onto your shoulder. 

“Oh, sweetheart,” you said softly, putting your arms around her and tucking her head beneath your own. “You’re OK, I’ve got you. You’re OK…” 

“It felt so real,” she hiccuped into your neck. “I thought…” 

“It’s OK,” you said when she trailed off. “You’re OK, I’ve got you. You’re safe. We’ve got you, not going to let anything happen to you, OK? You’re safe.” 

She nodded but tucked herself tighter against you. You just held onto her, rocking her as her sobs faded. 

“Want to talk about it?” You asked when her breathing had returned to a normal pace and it felt like her tears were no longer soaking your shirt. “It might help. I’m here for you, you can tell me anything. I’ll even keep it from Joel if you really want…” 

She pulled back from you a little, looking you in the eyes. 

“Yeah?” She sniffed. “Because I know it’ll just hurt him and….” She sighed heavily. “I really don’t want to hurt him.” 

“He’d much rather you talk to him than hold onto all that hurt yourself, Baby Girl,” you tucked some of the hair that had escaped her ponytail behind her ear. “But I don’t have to tell him if you don’t want me to.” 

She looked over at Joel who was snoring lightly, his deaf ear facing up as he lay on his side. 

“You could bring a marching band through here right now and I doubt he’d hear,” you smiled a little at her. “It’s OK. What’s bothering you?” 

Ellie’s eyes searched yours for a moment before she took a deep breath, looked down at her hands and began. 

“Back at Silver Lake. After…” she said, taking another shuddering breath. “After they took you away, David… He tried talking to me, saying shit about how he thought I was dangerous. Said he wanted to fuckin’ lead with me, that I had… that I had a ‘violent heart.’” 

She put the last two words in air quotes, all but spitting them out. You took her face in your hand and stroked her cheekbone with your thumb. She sniffed. 

“He said he’d call off the hunt for Joel and let you go if I cooperated with him and I thought about it…” 

“Oh honey,” you touched your forehead to hers as she stared at her lap. “We aren’t your responsibility…” 

She nodded a little and you sat back from her a little. 

“I knew you’d say something like that,” she laughed once, darkly. “Knew Joel’d be pissed that I even considered it… So I broke David’s fucking finger instead.” 

You laughed once and smiled a little. 

“Good girl,” you said. She looked a little proud of that. 

“They didn’t like that so…” she took another shaky breath and stiffened a bit, her small hands clenching into fists. “They tried to kill me, like they were going to eat me… I bit David, told him I was infected, used my scar…” 

“That was so smart, Baby Girl,” you said when she felt quiet. “You did so damn good…” 

“He didn’t really believe me,” she shrugged. “Not after a minute. I… I killed the man he was with and ran and he followed me and… Doc, he…” 

She swallowed a sob and your hand slid from her face to the back of her neck, holding her gently. 

“It’s OK sweetheart,” you said softly. “You’re OK…” 

“He tried…” she choked on the words for a moment. “He said he was going to keep me, that he liked the fighting…” 

“Oh honey,” you were trying not to cry for her, for this girl you should have been there to protect and instead you let them take you away from her. 

“I killed him,” she sniffed, meeting your eyes for the first time since she’d started talking. “Before he could do anything, I… I more than killed him. He didn’t have a face anymore and it… I…” 

You tugged her against you and she pressed her face into your shoulder as you rocked her gently, running one hand up and down her back. 

“You’re OK now,” you said softly as you held onto her. “You’re safe. It’s OK…” 

She cried there for a minute before she pulled back from you again. You held her face in your hand, drying her tears with your thumb. 

“None of that is your fault, OK?” You said gently. “You did what you had to do - what they MADE you do - to protect yourself. There was nothing you could have done. It was always up to them. They were monsters and you did what you have to do to monsters and that’s OK.” 

She nodded and wiped her face with her shirtsleeves. 

“Doc?” She said, her voice wet. 

“Yes, Baby Girl?” 

“What if…” her voice broke for a moment. “What if part of me… liked it? Liked hurting him? Because… I…” 

She trailed off but kept her eyes on you, wide and pleading. 

“That’s OK,” you said quietly. “It’s OK if protecting yourself made you feel good. That’s OK. It doesn’t make you a bad person because you liked hurting an actual bad person who deserved whatever you did to them and more. OK?” 

She sniffed and nodded and she leaned forward, against you. 

“I don’t want to do that again,” she sniffed. “I really fucking don’t…” 

“I know,” you said softly, holding her close. “I’m so sorry you had to do it then. We’re going to make sure you don’t need to do it again. We’re going to take care of you, we’re going to protect you. We won’t let anything happen to you.” 

She sniffed and nodded and you held her for a while longer. 

“How are you feeling?” You asked quietly eventually. “Any better now that you’ve talked about it?” 

“A little, I think,” she sniffed and straightened. “What time is it? Time to switch watch?” 

“Not yet,” you lied with a soft smile. “Go back to sleep for a bit, OK?” 

She nodded and lay down, curling in on herself a bit. You stayed close to her for a bit, waiting for the cadence of her breaths to shift to sleep. You watched her like that, her face peaceful and relaxed. 

You should have been there to protect her. Should have been there to make sure no one came close to touching her. Should have made sure she didn’t need to kill anybody. That had been why you’d wanted to come with her to begin with, to protect her from what you knew was out here in the way you hadn’t been able to protect Jessica all those years before. Ellie was alive but you hadn’t kept her safe, not really. The failure of it sank through your chest and into your stomach like lead. You hadn’t done your job and it was Ellie who would need to suffer the consequences. 

You let Ellie and Joel rest, leaning back against a tree, watching them both. They were so much more fragile than either of them would admit to being, both of them hurting from the worst things that life could do to a person while trying so hard to be strong. It threatened to swallow them. You weren’t great with a gun or a knife, you weren’t good at hurting and killing and all the things the apocalypse seemed to demand of survivors. But you were good at taking care of people, at helping them. You could take care of them in the ways they needed, help them find their way back to the versions of themselves that were buried deep under the rubble of this life. You could spend your existence doing that, you thought, and it would be enough for a full life. Loving them through it all would be enough.

*** 

If Ellie had been more herself, Joel would have started the day by chewing you out. You were still awake when the sun came up, clearly tired but keeping your eyes open, on guard. 

But Ellie was distant and detached when she woke up a few minutes later, only answering questions with a shrug and staying close to your side. 

“You gonna tell me what happened last night?” He asked, voice low, when Ellie stepped away for a bathroom break. You were on the edge of the city now, so close to your final destination. It settled like a stone in his stomach, the bile of uncertainty and change setting him on edge.

“Not my thing to tell,” you smiled a little sadly at him. “But I’ve got it covered. It’s OK.” 

“Don’t like you stayin’ up all night,” he grumbled. “Pushin’ yourself too hard…” 

“But it’s fine when you do it?” You asked, brows raised. 

“My reaction time with a gun when I’m half asleep is better than yours when you’re wide awake,” he said flatly. 

“Well I didn’t need the gun so it’s a moot point,” you replied, a little smug. “But pick a fight with me about it later, when we’re in for the night. Ellie…” 

He nodded once. It was a day where the kid needed extra care and attention. He still wasn’t sure what caused it but he saw the signs of it. You and Joel hadn’t really talked about it but you both saw it happening. You’d trade off trying to engage with her, trying to make sure she wasn’t closing herself off too much, trying to get her to eat something and drink enough water. It gave Joel a new appreciation for what Tommy must have done for him in the early days of the outbreak, just after he lost Sarah. He was only alive because of your voice in his head and his brother’s kindness. 

“Here we go,” Joel said, coming out of a camper he’d been rummaging through for supplies. “We can play this tonight. Want to kick my ass at something besides poker, this is it…” 

He held up a copy of Boggle. Ellie just kind of nodded. 

“Kicking your ass is fun,” you said, looking at her as you said it. “And I bet we could get him to make things interesting…” 

That at least caught her attention and she raised her eyebrows at you. 

“I learned the other day that he’s willing to put an a-cappella performance of a song on the line,” you said. “We could experience a live, one night only, Joel Miller musical event…” 

Ellie smiled a little at that. 

“I’ll let you bet that,” Joel said, just happy to get some sign of life out of the girl. He’d be willing to be a lot to make that happen. “Gonna have to put something good on the line yourselves though, big risk for me…” 

“First choice on canned goods for a week?” You asked. 

“I’ll take that,” Joel said, glancing down at Ellie as the three of you continued on. Her smile had faded already. He shared a look with you, the shadows of Salt Lake City looming over you. 

“Well there’s a tall building there…” Joel said, looking up at it, trying to gauge its structural integrity. 

“So we’re going to cut through that building there, go up the tall one and take a look around?” Ellie said, voice flat. 

“Well, actually,” Joel said. “I found some dynamite back there. Figured we blast our way through and then…” 

“Shit, really?” She looked up at him. 

“No,” he smiled a little. “We’re gonna do what you said. But my way would’ve been fun, right?” 

“Yeah,” she smiled a little back. It didn’t reach her eyes. 

Joel led the way through the building, keeping an eye out for some sign of humanity - or infected. But there wasn’t much of anything. 

“Didn’t realize it was this bad out west,” you said as you picked your way through the rubble of the structure. “I know I had no reason to but I always kind of thought the east coast got the worst of it…” 

“Dallas didn’t fair well, either,” Joel said. “Didn’t stay there long, that’s for damn sure, but half the fuckin’ city was a crater. Texas Stadium was in one piece, they were tryin’ to set up somethin’ there when we cut through but half the buildings were gone.” 

“I wonder what other countries did,” you said. “If they did the same things we did or if they did something different and if they did any better in the long run…” 

Joel spotted a ladder on a ledge and a possible way up and through. 

“Hey, Ellie,” he said, distracting her from her tracing patterns in the dust with the toe of her shoe. She looked up. “Think that might be the route. If I give you a boost, can you get that ladder down here for us?” 

“Yeah,” she nodded with a tight smile, coming over to him. “Boost away.” 

She climbed up him, stepping off his leg to his hands to his shoulders as she clambered up. She started lowering the ladder down when something got her attention. 

“Oh wow…” 

She dropped the ladder and it fell with a clatter to the ground, you jumping forward to try to catch it before it hit Joel. You missed. 

“Jesus, Ellie!” He called after her, scrambling for the ladder. You backed up, looking up to the space above with a frown. 

“Can’t see her,” you said as he got the ladder set. 

“Better not be gettin’ herself killed,” he muttered, rushing up the ladder with you close behind. 

“Guys, come on!” She yelled as Joel pulled you up the rest of the way. You both looked at each other for a moment. This was easily the most excited you’d heard her since Silver Lake. You weren’t about to argue. “Hurry! We’re gonna fuckin’ miss it!” 

You and Joel both ran after the sound of her voice and found her standing at the edge of the broken side of the building, a giraffe standing in front of her, watching her with almost as much curiosity as she was watching it. 

“Oh shit,” you breathed, a wide smile spreading over your face. 

“Don’t scare it!” Ellie looked over her shoulder to the two of you. 

“We’re not,” Joel said, slowly and cautiously breaking off some greenery that had started taking over the dilapidated building. He held it out to Ellie and she took it. “Go slow…” 

She smiled and held the twig out. Joel broke off another one for you and you took it, watching as the animal wrapped its tongue around Ellie’s leaves. 

“Woah!” She looked at you. “You see that?” 

“Yeah,” you smiled, sounding oddly choked up. “Their tongues can be almost 2 feet long, they use them for reaching high up leaves…” 

Joel looked at you and you shrugged. 

“Elizabeth was learning about giraffes when we left,” you said. “She was telling me all about them. She thought the tongues were particularly cool…” 

“Because they are,” Ellie said, voice full of wonder. “Hey there!” 

The giraffe apparently decided she had enough and started off, Ellie following along the edge of the building, you and Joel trailing behind her until she stopped at another gaping hole in the structure. Giraffes roamed the grounds below, long necks bobbing as they walked. 

“So cool,” She breathed, smiling. It reached her eyes this time. “Can’t believe people wouldn’t travel just to have a chance at seeing shit like this…” 

Joel looked out over the city, spotting what he thought would be a good route to try for the hospital and just watching Ellie and you enjoy the giraffes. You stayed up there until they were all gone, the ground below just grass now. 

“C’mon,” Joel said. “Should keep movin’.” 

Ellie kept the glow after the giraffes for a bit, but it was easy to see it start to fade. The wonder and joy couldn’t stay forever, not in a world like this one, not in a place like this. 

But it could in Jackson. If it could stick around anywhere, it was there. 

“You know,” he said as the three of you walked. “We tried, the three of us. We really tried to find the Fireflies, get you this far…” 

“Yeah,” Ellie nodded. 

“Found the first spot without their help,” he continued. “But they’d left. Lookin’ for this one now and not seein’ much of a sign of ‘em…” 

Ellie shrugged. 

“Probably just trying to hid from raiders or FEDRA or some shit,” she said. “That’s what we do.” 

“Yeah, sure,” Joel nodded. “But…” 

Ellie stopped walking and turned to face him. 

“But what?” 

“Baby Girl,” Joel looked at her, this girl who had - in the span of just a few months - become as central to his being as you were. He sighed. “You’ve done so much. You don’t need to do any more. We can just turn around, go back to Jackson. We can do it right now…” 

“And do what?” She frowned. 

“Just live,” you said. “You don’t have to do anything else but that, sweetheart. I promise, you don’t. You don’t owe the world a damn thing…” 

“But everything we’ve done,” she said. “Everything I’ve done… It has to mean something, right? It has to be for a reason. It can’t… It can’t all be for nothing.” 

“It kept you alive,” you said. “That’s all it’s ever been about…” 

“I’ve been given this… thing,” she said. “I’m special, right Doc? No one else is out there like me?” 

“That I know of,” you nodded. “Yeah. But that’s true even if you weren’t immune, kiddo…” 

“I can’t not use it,” she shook her head. “I mean, Doc, you’ve always said we’re here to love people. How am I supposed to do that if I could save the world and I just… don’t?” 

“It’s not supposed to be at the expense of yourself, Baby Girl,” you said gently. “We don’t know what’s waiting for us there but…” 

“But we should find out,” she said. “If I can save people… I want to. I’m special for a reason, right? It has to be for a reason, all of this has to be for a reason.” 

She turned to keep walking and the desperation spread through Joel so fast he spoke without fully thinking. 

“I was the one who missed.” 

Ellie froze before turning around, looking at him. He took a deep breath but kept going. 

“No one shot at me ‘cept me,” he said. “I was the one who missed.” 

You stepped closer to him and slipped your hand into his. 

“What…” Ellie’s voice trailed off. 

“Sarah died,” he said and he looked at you. “Thought she was gone, too….” He looked back at Ellie. “Didn’t seem worth it. I wanted to be done. I was sure, never been more sure of anything in my damn life so I…” 

He took a deep breath. 

“I flinched,” he said. “Part of me… part of me knew I’d find her again…” He gave your hand a squeeze. “But that wasn’t enough. Not for a long time… Anyway, what I’m tryin’ to tell you…” 

“I know what you’re trying to tell me,” she said, giving him a tight smile. “So time really does heal all wounds?” 

“Wasn’t time that did it,” he said. “Baby Girl, you’re enough all on your own, immune or no. You don’t need to do another damn thing, you just keep livin’ and that’s enough.” 

She watched him for a moment. 

“I’m really glad that didn’t work out, Joel,” she said quietly. “But we should keep going.” 

He nodded slowly and Ellie turned to head further into the city. You pressed a kiss to the scar at his temple and he took a deep, shaky breath. 

“If we haven’t found ‘em by tomorrow…” he said. 

“I know,” you said softly. 

The two of you caught up with her quickly. 

“I think this calls for some shitty puns,” Joel said. 

“Excellent puns, you mean,” you corrected him. 

“You asked for it,” Ellie smiled, slinging her backpack around to her front and grabbing the book out. 

“Oh this is good,” she looked at the two of you. “People are making apocalypse jokes like there’s no tomorrow!” 

Joel smiled and shook his head and you snorted. 

“Not too soon?” She asked, turning the page. 

“That’s just topical,” Joel said. 

“I think I need a new line of work,” you said, looking at Ellie. “And making mirrors is something I could really see myself doing…” 

“Ohhhh,” she groaned. “That one’s so bad!” 

“Is it?” You crinkled your nose. 

“Here’s one,” Ellie said. “One of my favorites, you’ll have to guess why… Moon rocks taste better than Earth rocks. Know why?” 

“Why?” Joel asked. 

“Because they’re meteor!” 

“No,” Joel shook his head as Ellie laughed. “Uh-uh, that one’s bad…” 

“That one’s perfect!” She replied. “It’s a pun and it’s about space, you literally cannot get better than that.” 

“That’s a three of 10,” Joel said. “And that’s bein’ generous.” 

“What!” She shook her head. “No way, at least a six, probably an eight….” 

Joel only heard the canister hit the ground because he turned his head to look at you, the clatter of the metal on the pavement making him pause. 

“What…” you began but Joel moved fast, grabbing your arm and Ellie’s and throwing you both behind him just as the canister exploded. 

The last thing he heard was you screaming his name before he passed out. 

A/N: Yup. We're here. We're too this point.

Canon is going to diverge next chapter as we close in on the end of this story but get ready for *drumroll* FERAL JOEL!

Because next chapter is all Feral Joel all the time.

And we love that for us.

There is a taglist if you'd like to be added BUT we're really closing in on the end here. I think this story will be wrapped by the end of the month. I will add you if you'd like, however!

Thank you for being here and sticking with this story! I've loved every second of this adventure with you. Love you!!

Taglist: @paleidiot@ayamenimthiriel@ginger-swag-rapunzel@drewharrisonwriter@flugazi @pedropascalsbbg@taoyuji@starstruckmusiciansartghost@splendsay@bigboiseason123@jpbplvr @ashleyandring @mrsyixingunicorn10@sloanexx@ninaminaromina @lady-bellyn @hufflepuffriver @sarap-77 @storyarcscribe @mellymbee @jasminedragoon @lemonmeli @reds-ramblings@arizonadaydreamer@mumma-moonchild@blackroseguzzi@candypeaches16@kittenlittle24@wrappedinfiction@oatmeaiboy@pedritosdarling@winchestergypsy90@imnotdatboii @lalalalemonade11 @maknimuk1@mrsdarcyinlovewithbuckybarnes@pedrosaidsheispunk@commanderawkward@n7cje@elliesgirlll@tsunamistorm123@spookyxsam@leeeesahhh @anoverwhelmingdin @untamedheart81 @pedropascalfan221 @pedr0swh0r3 @pedrobae@fifia-writes@fatima-marisa @acf2023 @1soff@encephalitiskat @ashleymsnodgrass @karlinspace

[na-bird-of-the-day]

BOTD: American Avocet

Photo: Mick Thompson

"Around lake shores and tidal flats, especially in the wide-open spaces of the west, flocks of elegant American Avocets wade in the shallows. They often feed while leaning forward, with the tips of their bills in the water and slightly open, filtering tiny food items from just below the surface. Sometimes a flock will feed this way in unison, walking forward, swinging their heads rhythmically from side to side."

- Audubon Field Guide