#dr. stone chapter 13

[drstonetrivia]

Chapter 13 Trivia

Extremely rare no-abs shirtless male character from Dr. Stone. Keep this picture safe, it's the only one of its kind…

This is the same location as Taiju passed through on his journey, but taken from an angle slightly further back. Some parts look a little different, but the same broken statues are present.

The monkeys that follow Senku around are Japanese macaques, which are a species of Old World monkey present across most of Japan. They are also the most northern-living primate (not counting humans), and as such are adapted to the colder Japanese climate in the year 5738.

Senku couldn't start a fire with this setup, but neither would Taiju or Yuzuriha. The wood is wrong: the bottom should be stable like a plank, with a divot and a notch in it for catching the embers. The drill part should be much thinner, without bark, and rounded at the end.

Chert is a 7 on the Mohs scale, so it's hard, but not "off the charts".

Senku uses two percussion techniques to shape the stone: hard-hammer and bipolar. The former is used more frequently as it is more precise, but the latter is used when the stone isn't good quality.

After the rough shaping, Senku grinds the stone to have a polished edge, which makes it more durable. Polishing flint/chert is one of the markers of the transition from the Mesolithic to Neolithic Stone Age, as polished axes were more efficient at clearing trees for farmland.

I spent some time testing how to make plant cord, and Senku's methods are correct. Scraping away at the plant removes the bark and non-fiber-y parts leaving the long strings behind. Flax, hemp, and nettles are good plant choices, as they have longer fibers for twisting.

Senku's rope looks like 1-ply, meaning only a single strand is being twisted. This seems to contradict his earlier hand motions, as twisting parts in both hands would result in 2-ply, but his inexperience may be the reason it didn't work correctly. More plys means stronger rope.

Rubbing sticks raises the heat of the wood through friction, but the goal is to get the wood hot enough to decompose into what's known as pyrolysis products. Those products burn in oxygen, which then raises the heat more and creates a chain reaction, setting the wood on fire.

Assuming this deer is an adult Japanese sika deer, it weighs around 40-70kg. Senku at this point probably weighs under 61kg. In order to confidently lift a deer, Senku needs to have a counterweight of at least 70kg.

In this case, he bends a small tree using his own weight (one handed, even), but the chance of this tree being that elastic and capable of lifting over 60kg without simply breaking is almost impossible.

The more realistic option would have been using a counterweight such as a large log or stone, so that when the trap is activated, the counterweight falls and the trapped animal goes up.

However, that requires Senku to be able to lift something that heavy above his head.

Making leather requires several steps that can take several weeks to several months to complete. The hides need to be scraped and soaked in special solutions, have tannins added, and other processes.

The gnawing Senku is doing happens after the tanning, and is used to soften the leather. The modern way to do it is to rub it across a smooth/rounded surface, such as a sawhorse or metal pipe. The bending will make it more supple and won't destroy your jaw.

We see that one of the snow monkeys has a baby on their back. Snow monkey babies are normally born from April to June. Four months after birth, the babies are too big to hang from their mother's underside, so they move to her back.

The earliest this time scene could be is therefore August, which is about 2 months before Taiju depetrified. Any of Senku's experiments or builds likely happened in those last 2 months, since we don't see him progress with anything else before then.

I know this chapter took a while, but the topics were too interesting and also testable so I went a little overboard with how hard I was looking things up haha!

[inky-writing]

Carlisle Cullen x Reader

Inky-writing masterlist Mirage masterlist

Warnings: none

Word count: 1,754

Chapter 7: What a Night

May 13, 2005

The morning dawned with rays of bright sunlight filtering through the blinds of her bedroom window. Y/N stretched in bed, feeling so many emotions that she couldn’t describe her exact state. Today was her 18th birthday. It should have felt amazing, a day of celebration, but it also carried a bittersweet weight. This was her first birthday without her parents.

Charlie, ever the quiet but loving uncle that he was, had hinted at plans for the afternoon. Y/N wasn’t sure what to expect, but she was touched by his efforts. By late morning, he called her downstairs, wearing a rare smile that hinted at his excitement.

“Come on, kid” he said, putting on his jacket, “We��re heading to the diner for lunch. Got something special planned”.

Y/N smiled and grabbed her leather jacket, “You didn’t have to do anything, you know”, she said softly.

Charlie shrugged, “You only turn eighteen once. Besides, I had some help making it happen”.

The Forks diner was more lively than usual when they arrived. Bella was already seated at their usual booth, her leg still in a cast propped up on a chair. She grinned when she saw Y/N and waved them over.

“Happy birthday!” Bella said as Y/N slid into the booth.

“Thanks, Bella”, Y/N said, her heart warming with enthusiasm.

The waitress brought over their orders, along with a large chocolate cake that Charlie had clearly put some thought into. It was decorated with pastel green frosting and had “Happy 18th, Y/N!” written in careful script. Y/N couldn’t help but smile.

As they started cutting into the cake, the bell over the diner door jingled, and Y/N glanced up to see none other than the Cullens entering. They moved with their usual grace, a collective presence that seemed to draw every eye in the room. Carlisle was at the forefront, his expression kind, while Esme followed closely, radiant. Behind them were Alice, Jasper, Rosalie, and Emmett, each striking in their own way.

“Chief Swan”, Carlisle greeted, nodding toward Charlie, “I hope we’re not interrupting”.

Charlie smiled, “Not at all. We’re celebrating Y/N’s birthday, but it is nice to see the whole family”.

Y/N felt her cheeks flush as Carlisle’s eyes lingered on her for a moment. His gaze was unreadable, and it sent a shivers through her. The Cullens exchanged a quick look, then moved toward the table.

“Happy birthday, Y/N”, Carlisle said, his voice warm and low as he extended a hand.

“Thank you, Dr. Cullen” she replied, shaking his hand and feeling a strange jolt at the contact. His touch was cool but gentle, and she found herself momentarily captivated.

The rest of the Cullens chimed in with their birthday wishes, Alice’s enthusiasm standing out as she beamed at Y/N, “Eighteen! That’s such a special birthday. I hope it’s been wonderfu… OMG, I didn’t get you a present!!!” she added, panicking.

“It has been… and don’t worry, you don’t need to get me anything” Y/N said, glancing at Charlie and Bella with gratitude.

The Cullens didn’t stay long. Once they left, Charlie revealed his gift: a sleek silver laptop. Y/N’s jaw dropped as she opened the box.

“Charlie, this is too much” she said, her voice emotional.

“You need something for school” he answered gruffly, clearly uncomfortable with the attention. “And maybe to write all those stories you’re always dreaming up”.

Y/N hugged him tightly, “Thank you. This means so much”.

Bella��s gift was equally thoughtful. She handed Y/N a small box, and inside was a delicate silver heart necklace with a deep red stone at its center.

“It’s beautiful” Y/N said, fastening it around her neck, “Thank you, Bella”.

The rest of the evening passed in a blur of laughter and conversation, but Y/N couldn’t help but replay the moment she’d locked eyes with Carlisle. There had been something in his expression, something like curiosity. She shook the thought away, telling herself it was nothing.

As the clock approached 6 pm, they left the diner and returned home. Y/N spent the rest of the evening tinkering with her new laptop, her heart full but her mind restless. For reasons she couldn’t quite explain, this birthday felt like the start of something new.

Y/N stood in front of the mirror in her bedroom, smoothing the fabric of her dress and trying to calm her nerves. The theme of the prom, red carpet glamour with a slight James Bond twist, was extravagant for Forks, and it only made her more anxious. Angela had helped her pick out the dress weeks ago: a sleek, forest-green gown that hugged her frame and flowed elegantly to the floor. Her hair was styled in loose waves, and a hint of makeup brought out the soft features she rarely noticed. She added the final touches to her outfit: some deep brown-red lipstick, and the necklace Bella gifted her earlier that day. 

Charlie complimented her when he saw her come down the stairs, “You look great, kiddo”, he said. He didn’t even complain when she insisted on snapping a quick photo before she left.

Angela and Jessica picked her up in Jessica's car. Both were dressed to the nines, Angela in a flowy lavender dress and Jessica in a daring pink number that turned heads as soon as they arrived to the venue. The place was unrecognizable, transformed into a glittering homage to Hollywood with black and gold decorations, a red carpet leading to the entrance, and even a fake casino area tucked in the corner.

Y/N spotted Bella and Edward almost immediately. Bella was still wearing a cast on her leg but managed to look radiant in a deep blue dress. Edward, as usual, looked like he’d walked off the cover of a magazine in his tuxedo. They stood by the entrance, talking quietly. Y/N had grown used to the way Edward seemed to focus entirely on Bella, as if the rest of the world didn’t exist. She waved to them as Angela led her toward the punch table.

The evening passed in a blur of laughter, music, and dancing. Y/N felt lighter than she had in months, even as a dull headache pulsed in the back of her mind. She linked it up to stress or exhaustion: it had been a long day after all. For now, she was determined to enjoy herself.

At one point, she caught sight of Carlisle and Esme standing near the back of the room, clearly chaperoning but blending in with their impeccable style. Carlisle was dressed in a sharp dark blue suit, his hair neatly combed back, while Esme wore a simple but elegant silver dress that complemented her smile. Y/N couldn’t help but feel a pang of admiration for the couple. They looked like they belonged on the red carpet themselves.

Edward danced with Bella, his movements graceful and measured to accommodate her injury.  

Y/N watched from a distance, smiling at how happy Bella looked despite everything she’d been through. But there was something about Edward’s gaze that unsettled her. He looked… guarded, almost tense. It was a contrast to the lightheartedness of the night.

The dance wound down around midnight, and students began trickling out of the venue. Y/N found herself stepping outside for some fresh air, grateful for a moment away from the noise and crowd. The cool night air was refreshing against her skin as she sank onto a bench near the entrance.

To her surprise, Carlisle appeared moments later. He glanced around as if making sure no one else was nearby before sitting down beside her, leaving a respectful distance between them.

“Enjoyed yourself?” he asked, his tone gentle.

Y/N smiled faintly, “Yeah, it’s been nice. A little overwhelming, but nice”.

Carlisle nodded, his gaze thoughtful. “I’m glad. It’s important to have moments like these, especially when life feels… heavy”.

She looked down at her hands, picking at her dress, “It still feels strange, celebrating anything without my parents. But Charlie’s been great. And Bella, too”.

“You’ve been handling everything remarkably well”, Carlisle said.

Y/N shrugged, “Some days are better than others. The bad days still sneak up on me, though”. She hesitated, then added, “I guess I just… don’t know what to do with myself sometimes”.

Carlisle’s expression softened, “That’s perfectly normal. Grief is unpredictable, and it doesn’t follow a timeline. The important thing is to give yourself grace and to keep reaching out for support when you need it”.

Y/N nodded, her chest tightening, “Thanks, Dr. Cullen. I’m glad I… I’m glad I have someone to talk to”.

He smiled gently, “Please, Y/N, call me Carlisle when we're not at the clinic”.

They sat in silence for a moment, the sounds of the dance faintly drifting through the open door. Y/N glanced at Carlisle out of the corner of her eye. He seemed lost in thought, his gaze fixed on the night sky.

“You’re always so calm”, she said quietly, “I don’t know how you do it”.

Carlisle chuckled softly, “Years of practice, I suppose. But even I have my moments of doubt. It’s part of being human”.

Y/N tilted her head, studying him. There was something almost otherworldly about him, his composure, his presence. Yet, he seemed so genuine, so grounded. It was comforting in a way she couldn’t explain.

Inside, Esme watched them through the window, her eyes narrowing slightly. She couldn’t shake the feeling that something was… different about Y/N. No matter how hard she tried, her powers had no effect on the girl. It was as if Y/N existed in a bubble that Esme couldn’t penetrate. She made a mental note to report it to the Masters during her next call.

Outside, Carlisle stood, brushing invisible lint from his jacket. “I should get back inside”, he said, “It was good talking with you, Y/N. I’ll see you at our next appointment”.

“Yeah”, Y/N said, standing as well. “Thanks, Dr. Cu... Carlisle. For everything”.

As he walked back toward the venue, Y/N lingered for a moment, staring up at the stars. Her headache had faded, replaced by a strange calmness. She didn’t know why, but talking to Carlisle always made her feel lighter. 

With a deep breath, she headed to the parking lot to go home.

Chapter 8 >>>

Tag list: @inky-bonnie

[winxanity-ii]

⌜Godly Things | Chapter 13 Chapter 13 | shattered bonds⌟

╰ ⌞🇨‌🇭‌🇦‌🇵‌🇹‌🇪‌🇷‌ 🇮‌🇳‌🇩‌🇪‌🇽‌⌝

❘ prev. chapter ❘༻✦༺❘ next chapter ❘

You adjusted the light bundle of freshly laundered linens in your arms, the soft fabric pressing against your chin as you made your way through the palace corridors.

It felt good to be moving again, your steps light yet purposeful, as if shaking off the heaviness of the past few days.

The morning light spilled in from high arched windows, warming the stone floors beneath your sandals and casting gentle shadows along the walls.

You had returned to your duties just as you promised Telemachus, resuming the routines that had once brought a sense of normalcy to your days.

Queen Penelope had been pleased to see you, her smile warm yet tempered with a motherly concern. She had insisted that you take it slow, barring you from returning to her chambers so soon. "You need time to fully gain your strength back," she had said, her voice firm yet gentle.

While part of you missed the comfort of her presence, another part was grateful for the care and concern you were shown, even if you weren't truly ill. They didn't know the truth, but their kindness had eased the ache you hadn't realized had lingered in your chest.

The corridor turned sharply ahead, and as you rounded the corner, you collided with someone. Your bundle tumbled from your arms, and you staggered slightly, your hands instinctively reaching out to steady yourself.

A clatter followed as the person opposite you dropped their load—a basket of clothes spilling onto the floor.

"Oh, gods, I'm so sorry—!" you began, but the words caught in your throat as you looked up.

It was Callias. His tousled hair was damp with sweat, the dark strands clinging to his forehead, and his face looked drawn, shadows lingering under his eyes as if he hadn't slept well in days.

He was dressed in his usual servant's attire, but the fabric was creased, and there was a faint smudge of dirt on his cheek.

Despite his tired appearance, his expression shifted the moment he realized it was you. His eyes widened, and a grin broke across his face, chasing away the exhaustion in an instant.

"____!" he exclaimed, his voice tinged with a mixture of surprise and relief. The basket at his feet was forgotten as he stepped forward, engulfing you in a hug before you could react.

The breath was momentarily squeezed out of you as his arms wrapped around your shoulders, pulling you close. "You're okay," he murmured, his voice trembling slightly with emotion. "I was so worried—no one told me what happened! And then I heard you were unwell, and... gods, I'm just glad you're alright."

You couldn't help but laugh, the sound bubbling up as you gently pushed against his chest, creating a small space between you. "Callias," you said warmly, "of course I'm fine. You didn't think I'd let a little rain do me in, did you?"

Callias pulled back slightly, a pout forming on his lips as he crossed his arms. "Don't give me that, young lady," he said, narrowing his eyes playfully. "Where have you been? And don't you dare use that dumb lie about being sick." His gaze swept over you, his brows knitting together in mock suspicion. "You don't even have a lingering sniffle or cough."

You hesitated, your gaze drifting to the side as you debated whether to tell him the truth. The weight of the last few days pressed against your chest, but something about Callias' earnest expression made you feel like you could confide in him.

Finally, you leaned in slightly, lowering your voice to a conspiratorial whisper. "It's... something big... something epic."

His eyes lit up with intrigue, a grin spreading across his face before he stilled; the faint sound of footsteps echoed from around the bend, accompanied by hushed voices. Callias' head snapped up, and he looked around wildly, his body tensing as though expecting trouble, his expression suddenly cautious.

The footsteps grew louder, and moments later, a group of servants dressed in Bronte's colors appeared, their arms laden with folded linens and supplies. They passed by without so much as a glance in your direction, their faces a picture of indifference, but the way Callias' shoulders remained taut told a different story.

He bent down quickly, gathering the scattered clothes from his basket. As he straightened, he leaned in close, his voice barely above a whisper. "Meet me later, under the cypress tree. Your spot."

Before you could respond, he added, "There's something I need to tell you too." His eyes flicked toward the corner where the other servants had disappeared, and then back to you, his gaze steady but urgent.

With that, he hoisted the basket back into his arms, giving you a small, reassuring smile before hurrying off down the hall, his footsteps fading into the distance.

You stood there for a moment, your heart beating a little faster as you replayed his words. The cypress tree. Your spot. Whatever he wanted to say felt important.

And as you bent to retrieve your own bundle of laundry, you couldn't shake the feeling that the day was far from over.

☆

☆

The air under the cypress tree was warm and dappled with late-afternoon light filtering through the branches.

Callias leaned against the tree's rough bark, his panpipes resting lightly in his lap. His fingers traced the edges of the instrument, occasionally pressing a note that lingered softly in the air.

His eyes flicked between the winding paths leading into the courtyard, searching eagerly for your figure, the minutes stretching into what felt like hours.

Every sound seemed amplified—the rustle of leaves, the distant hum of servants, the occasional chirp of a bird. Yet, all of it faded into the background as his anticipation grew.

He adjusted his position, his back straightening, and his fingers drumming against the panpipes, unable to shake the nervous energy bubbling within him.

Then a sharp, unmistakable voice shattered the delicate stillness.

"Callias."

He froze, the warmth draining from his face as his name cut through the air with a cold edge.

Slowly, he turned toward the voice, his muscles taut. Standing there, poised and commanding as ever, was Princess Andreia. Her presence dominated the space, her pale, calculating gaze sweeping over him like a hawk assessing its prey.

Callias' heart lurched as he quickly stood, the panpipes slipping from his lap and landing in the dirt with a soft thud. He bent into a low bow, his voice carefully steady. "Princess Andreia," he greeted, his words formal, though he could feel the knot tightening in his stomach.

Her lips curved into a faint, icy smile, though it held no warmth. She stepped closer, the sound of her sandals sharp against the cobblestones. "You seem preoccupied," she remarked coolly, her eyes narrowing as she studied him. "Are you perhaps waiting for someone?"

Callias cleared his throat, his mind racing for a suitable answer. "No, Your Highness," he replied, his voice calm but edged with unease. "I was merely taking a short break."

Andreia's gaze sharpened, her footsteps drawing her closer. "Taking a break? How interesting." She tsked softly, shaking her head in mock disappointment. "Tell me, Callias, since when did servants under my father's rule grow so bold as to rest whenever they pleased?"

He opened his mouth to respond, but she cut him off with a sharp wave of her hand, her voice growing colder. "Do not even bother insulting my intelligence with more excuses. You've been getting beside yourself lately."

Callias felt his breath hitch as she stepped closer still, her presence oppressive. Her words lashed out like a whip. "Do you think you're above the rules? Above your duties? Back home, such insolence would have earned you a punishment severe enough to make you think twice. Have you forgotten the lessons taught to you? The lessons I taught you?" Her tone was laced with disdain, her eyes piercing as they bore into his.

The knot in Callias's stomach twisted painfully. Unbidden, phantom pains stirred in his lower back, the ghost of old scars prickling against his skin. His breaths came quicker, his mind flashing back to memories of punishments long past—the searing pain, the weight of expectations that had crushed him under their heel.

He swallowed hard, his head dipping lower, unable to meet her gaze any longer.

"N-No, Your Highness," he murmured, his voice barely audible. "I haven't forgotten."

Before his words could settle, Andreia's hand snapped upward, her fingers gripping his chin with surprising strength. She tilted his face down, forcing his gaze to meet hers.

Callias' heart pounded as he fought the urge to flinch. Her touch was cold, her nails biting into his skin with enough pressure to remind him of his place.

She leaned closer, her green eyes gleaming with a frosty intensity, as if she were appraising a nuisance rather than a person. "This palace is not our home," she said, her voice as smooth and sharp as a blade. "But that doesn't mean the rules I have in place for you here are any less strict. Do you understand?"

Callias nodded as best he could under her grip, his throat dry and his voice failing him.

Andreia's eyes narrowed further, the faintest curl of a smirk tugging at her lips. "I wonder..." she mused, her voice dropping to a low, cryptic tone, "has someone been filling your head with delusions of importance? Perhaps a little musician with too much free time?"

Callias froze, his blood running cold, panic flashing through him. Every instinct screamed at him to deny her accusation, to deflect, but he knew better. Denying too forcefully would only confirm her suspicions.

Andreia studied him for a moment longer before releasing his chin with a sharp motion; the sudden absence of her touch almost jarring. She straightened, brushing nonexistent dust from her gown as though the interaction had dirtied her.

"Consider this your only warning. A servant with divided loyalties is a liability I cannot afford. Don't forget, Callias—loyalty is rewarded. Betrayal, however..." she trailed off coldly, her gaze cutting through him one last time. "Do not test me again."

Without waiting for a response, she turned on her heel and strode away, her steps measured and unyielding.

Callias remained frozen, his body stiff and his hands trembling at his sides; his hand instinctively moved to brush down the back of his tunic, where the scars lay hidden beneath the fabric—a cruel reminder of her unspoken power over him. His fingers lingered there, the ghost of old wounds prickling against his skin.

His mind began to spiral, unbidden memories rising to the surface.

He could almost hear the sharp snap of a whip cracking through the air, followed by the searing pain that had lanced across his back. It had been something so small—he had tripped in the grand hall of Bronte while carrying a tray of goblets for one of the royal stewards. A single goblet had tipped over, its wine spilling in a dark stain across the marble floor, and Andreia had been furious.

The punishment was swift, merciless. She had ordered him to be lashed in the courtyard as a lesson to the other servants. "Clumsiness," she had said coolly, "is a sign of carelessness, and carelessness has no place in the palace of Bronte."

He had bitten down on the inside of his cheek so hard he'd drawn blood, swallowing the cries that threatened to escape with every lash. But the humiliation had stung more than the whip itself—being exposed, stripped of dignity, while the other servants watched, their eyes averted out of fear they might meet the same fate.

Ithaca had been different. Here, there were no public punishments, no cold demands to perfection. He could breathe without fearing his next mistake would cost him more than bruised pride.

The palace still had its rules and its order, but there was a warmth, a humanity, that Bronte had always lacked. Queen Penelope's quiet compassion, the way Prince Telemachus would greet the servants by name—it all made Callias feel... human, in a way he had almost forgotten he could be.

Yet Andreia's presence threatened to shatter that fragile sense of belonging. The way she wielded power, even here, felt like a shadow of Bronte encroaching on Ithaca's light.

Callias shook his head, trying to banish the memories, but they clung to him like a second skin. The ache in his back, long healed but never forgotten, was a stark reminder of what it meant to fall out of favor with someone like her.

He bent down to retrieve his panpipes, his fingers brushing over the dirt-streaked wood as he tried to steady his breathing. He cast a wary glance around the courtyard, his earlier eagerness to see you now replaced with a gnawing unease.

And then, like the sun breaking through storm clouds, your voice called out to him. "Callias?"

He froze, his heart leaping in his chest for an entirely different reason.

When he turned, his eyes landed on you, and for a moment, the tension in his body melted away. The warmth in your expression, the lightness in your step—everything about you was a balm to the icy fear Andreia had left behind.

Callias straightened, brushing off his tunic as he offered you a smile, though it wavered slightly.

The stark contrast between Andreia's coldness and your kindness hit him like a tidal wave. Where she had made him feel small and insignificant, you made him feel seen, valued.

"____, you're here," he said, his voice softening as relief flooded through him. "I was starting to think you wouldn't come."

"Of course I'm here. We agreed to meet here, or was I mistaken and imagined our entire interaction earlier?" You laughed lightly, stepping closer to him, your hands twitching as though you were about to reach out in greeting. But Callias subtly shifted back, careful to keep the space between you.

His heart raced as he did so, the fresh sting of Andreia's reminder still too vivid in his mind.

He masked his movements with a quick smile, hoping you wouldn't notice his hesitance. Your own smile remained undeterred as you tilted your head, your tone teasing. "When did you arrive? Have I kept you waiting long?"

Callias felt his chest tighten for a moment, a brief flicker of warmth battling with the icy grip of Andreia's words. Internally, he reassured himself—She doesn't know, she can't know. "Not long," he lied smoothly, his voice steady despite the turmoil within. "I just got here myself."

You gave a small, contented sigh, the tension in your shoulders easing as you looked around the familiar courtyard. Without another word, you plopped down onto the grass, the softness of it cushioning you as you let out a sigh of relaxation.

The momentary calmness of your favorite spot wrapped around you like a comforting embrace, chasing away the lingering heaviness of the day.

You leaned back on your hands, tilting your face up to the sky, and after a beat, you peeked one eye open to glance up at Callias. A playful smile graced your lips. "Well? Don't just stand there like a statue. Sit," you said, patting the spot on the grass beside you.

Callias hesitated, his fingers tightening around the panpipes in his hands. He swallowed hard, his gaze flicking to the spot you'd patted, then back to your expectant smile.

His fake smile began to falter but shifted into something genuine as he pushed the memories to the back of his mind, focusing instead on the way you looked at him like he was someone who mattered.

With a steadying breath, he plopped down beside you, the tension in his body easing ever so slightly in your presence.

For a moment, the two of you sat in silence, the cypress tree's branches swaying gently above, casting playful shadows on the grass, providing a soothing backdrop to the moment.

Callias sat close but not too close, the space between you a subtle reminder of his guarded demeanor.

You didn't notice, too focused on gathering your thoughts.

Callias' fingers still toyed with the panpipes, the faint movements a nervous habit he couldn't quite shake. He caught your glance flickering toward them, and his grip relaxed, letting them rest on his lap.

You tilted your head slightly, glancing at him out of the corner of your eye, your fingers idly tracing the grass beside you.  "There's something I need to tell you," you began, your voice quiet but steady as though you were weighing your words. "I... I've been thinking about how to even start this, but I guess I should just say it."

"What is it?"

You took a deep breath, your eyes dropping to the ground as you tried to find the right place to begin. "It's about... Lady Andreia," you said, your voice soft but clear, and you didn't miss the way his posture stiffened at the mention of her name.

"You know how she... well, she doesn't exactly like servants," you started, glancing briefly at him before looking back at your hands. "I—" You paused, hesitating.

The memory of what had happened was still vivid, and you weren't sure how much to say. But Callias deserved to know—at least, part of it.

"Some time after I left you in the courtyard, I realized I left my lyre behind," you began, your voice faltering slightly, "it wasn't long until a Bronte servant approached me and told me you'd asked for me to meet you at the sheepfold to return it. So, I thought nothing of it and went to find you after I was finished with my duties."

Your voice trailed off, and for a moment, you stared at the grass beneath you as if the words you needed might be hidden there. Callias' brow furrowed, and his grip on the panpipes tightened slightly, but he didn't interrupt.

"When I arrived," you continued, your voice quieter now, "it wasn't you I found. It was Lady Andreia." The memory of her cold smile and calculating gaze resurfaced. You cleared your throat softly and pressed on. "She was sitting there, holding my lyre."

Callias' expression darkened at this, his jaw tightening. His hands balled into fists in his lap, but he said nothing, letting you continue.

"I tried to stay calm, to be respectful. I... thought maybe she'd let me take it and leave. But instead, she started mocking me—mocking the lyre." Your throat tightened, and you paused, glancing away as you struggled to find the words. "She called it ugly... worthless. And then..." Your voice faltered again, and you had to take a steadying breath before continuing.

"She broke it," you said finally, the words coming out barely above a whisper. "She... she smashed it over her knee, like it was nothing." The weight of the confession settled between you, and you could feel your chest tightening as the emotions threatened to resurface. "Afterward, she just walked away, like it didn't matter. Like it was just some... insignificant thing."

Callias cursed under his breath, his fist clenching tightly in the grass beside him. "That... that witch," he muttered, his voice low and full of frustration. "I... I should have known something was wrong. After you left, she dismissed me almost immediately, but I didn't think..." He trailed off, his gaze distant as he pieced together the events in his mind. "I didn't even know you'd left it behind. If I had knew..." He broke off again, his voice filled with self-recrimination.

"Even if you knew," you said firmly, reaching out to touch his arm, grounding him, "what could you have done? If she ordered you to hand it over, you would have had no choice. You're a servant of Bronte, Callias. You had no say in the matter." Your gaze softened as you met his eyes, forcing back the tears that threatened to fall, offering him a small, shaky smile.

Callias' jaw clenched, and he looked away, his fists still tight. "But if I—"

"No," you interrupted, your voice soft but steady. "Callias, this isn't your fault. It was her. Lady. No—" You paused, the distaste lingering before you forced her name out. "Andreia's just a bully with power. She would have found some other way to hurt me, no matter what."

For a moment, the two of you sat in silence, the weight of the conversation settling heavily between you.

Callias' shoulders remained tense, his gaze fixed on the ground, but slowly, his fists began to unclench. He exhaled deeply, his frustration still evident but tempered by your words.

Then, his' brow quirked up, lips twitching almost into an amused grin. He snorted lightly, the tension in his face easing ever so slightly. "Andreia, huh? No 'Lady Andreia'? Look at you, breaking the rules. Who knew you were such a rebel?"

You rolled your eyes, unable to stop the small smile that broke through your earlier seriousness. "Oh, please. If calling her by her name makes me a rebel, I'll wear the title proudly."

The banter lifted some of the heaviness in the air, and for a brief moment, it felt like the two of you could breathe again.

But then, your gaze softened, your smile fading into something more contemplative. You leaned in slightly, your voice dropping to a whisper, as though sharing a secret only he could hear. "Besides... thanks to her actions, as cruel as they were, the Fates seemed to show me a little kindness in return."

Callias tilted his head, his brow furrowing in confusion at your cryptic words. "Kindness? What do you mean?" he asked, curiosity lacing his tone.

You hesitated for a moment, your eyes brightening as the memory of the divine lyre flashed in your mind. But you didn't elaborate—not yet. Instead, you swung your satchel around, careful and deliberate, as though holding something precious beyond measure.

Reaching inside, your fingers brushed against the cool, smooth surface of the lyre. You pulled it out gently, the golden frame catching the late afternoon sunlight, which shimmered across its surface in dazzling patterns.

The intricate etchings seemed alive in the light, telling stories of gods and heroes as the strings, spun from what appeared to be starlight itself, glowed faintly, resonating with an otherworldly hum.

The moment the lyre was fully exposed to the air, the faint scent of something sweet and unplaceable—a mix of wildflowers and ozone—seemed to linger between you.

Callias' mouth dropped open as he stared, his eyes widening in disbelief. "By the gods..." He leaned forward instinctively, his voice almost a whisper. "How... how did you get that?"

His hands hovered near the lyre, hesitant and almost reverent, as though touching it might prove it wasn't real. You grinned, the corners of your lips lifting as you plopped the lyre into his hands, your trust in him evident in the motion.

Callias hesitated, his hands hovering as though afraid to touch something so exquisite, but as the weight of the lyre settled into his palms, his breath caught. A faint warmth emanated from the golden frame, gentle but unmistakable, like the first rays of sunlight after a cold dawn.

"It's beautiful," he breathed, his fingers lightly brushing over the glowing strings, careful not to pluck them. As his fingers brushed against the glowing strings, and he felt an almost imperceptible vibration run through him, resonating deep in his chest.

It was as if the lyre accepted his presence, greeting him with a soft hum that lingered on the edges of his hearing, impossible to fully ignore.

Callias froze, his eyes widening further as he glanced at you. "Do you feel that?" he asked, his voice barely above a whisper. His grip on the lyre tightened slightly, his awe growing with every second.

You tilted your head, the faintest trace of a knowing smile playing on your lips. "Feel what?"

"It's... alive," he said, his voice trembling slightly, the words faltering as if he doubted his own senses. "It's like it's breathing. It's warm... and it hums, almost like it's trying to speak."

You leaned back slightly, your expression softening with amusement as a proud smile spread across your face. "I know," you said, your voice giddy, unable to hide the excitement bubbling within you.

Reaching out, your fingers brushed against the lyre, and the reaction was instantaneous—its hum deepened, a faint glow rippling along the strings as though it recognized you, leaping to life at your touch.

Callias' eyes darted from the lyre to you, his brow furrowing as a flicker of worry crossed his features. He hesitated for a moment, then blurted, "Wait—how exactly did you get this?" His voice carried a note of apprehension now, as though the awe was giving way to concern. "You didn't... you didn't make some sort of deal, did you?"

Your hand paused mid-air, the playful smile softening into something more reassuring as you met his gaze. "A deal?" you repeated, laughing lightly to dispel the tension. "No, Callias, I didn't sell my soul or anything dramatic like that. It was a gift..." Your fingers rested lightly on the lyre's golden frame, its warmth seeping into your skin like sunlight. "from Hermes."

Callias' head snapped up, his eyes darting from the lyre back to you. He let out a low whistle, his eyebrows shooting upward in surprise. "Hermes?" he repeated, almost disbelieving. "You mean...The Hermes? Messenger God?"

You nodded, your smile growing as you recalled the god's sudden and striking appearance. "In the flesh," you confirmed. "He gave it to me freely. A gift."

Callias didn't look entirely convinced, his grip on the lyre tightening slightly. "Freely," he echoed, skepticism lacing his tone. "The gods don't just give mortals things like this for no reason. There's always a cost, even if it's not one you see right away." His voice dropped lower, more cautious. "Are you sure there's nothing else to it? No strings attached—well, besides these ones?"

You let out a soft snort at his attempt at humor, shaking your head. "Hermes might be many things, but this... this felt genuine. I think he wanted me to have it—no bargains, no tricks." The faint hum of the lyre seemed to agree, the glow of its strings softening to a gentle shimmer.

Callias studied you for a moment longer, his expression caught between awe and unease. Finally, he sighed, shaking his head with a faint smile. "If you say so," he murmured, though his tone still carried a hint of uncertainty. "But I'm keeping an eye on this thing—and on you. Just in case."

You couldn;t help but smile, warmth blooming in your chest at his concern. "Thank you, Callias," you said sincerely, your voice soft. "It means a lot to know you're looking out for me—even if it's just in case I've accidentally invited divine chaos into my life."

His faint smile grew into a mischievous grin, his tone taking on a teasing edge. "Oh, please. You don't need a lyre to bring chaos into your life—you're already pretty talented at that on your own."

You let out a short laugh, shaking your head at his cheeky remark. "I walked right into that one, didn't I?"

Callias chuckled, his grin widening. "Like a moth to a flame," he quipped, his voice light but fond. He glanced back down at the glowing lyre in his hands, the humor in his expression softening as a flicker of wonder returned. "Still," he added, his tone shifting, "I've got to hand it to you. If anyone could charm the gods themselves, it's you."

His words caught you off guard, and you felt your cheeks heat ever so slightly. You brushed the moment aside with a playful scoff. "Let's not give me too much credit. The gods probably just like a good underdog story."

Callias shook his head in disbelief, muttering under his breath. "Truly, you must have a pendulum of luck swinging wildly in your favor." His expression turned grim for a fleeting moment, as though the weight of something else tugged at his thoughts.

Clearing his throat, he gently handed the lyre back to you, his touch lingering for just a moment before he pulled his hands away. "But enough about that. I haven't even told you my news yet," he said, his tone shifting, though a shadow of his earlier unease remained in his eyes.

You nodded, carefully placing the lyre back into your satchel, its weight settling comfortably on your shoulder. "Alright," you said, curiosity piqued. "What's your news?"

Callias glanced around, his gaze sweeping the courtyard as though ensuring no one else was within earshot. Then, lowering his voice, he leaned in slightly, adopting a conspiratorial tone. "One of Andreia's personal attendants let something slip," he began, his words measured. "Apparently, she's been in talks to form political alliances between Bronte and Ithaca."

Your brows knit together in confusion. "What would she..." you started, but the sentence trailed off as your thoughts spiraled, unbidden.

Images of Andreia and Telemachus together flashed in your mind, their interactions suddenly taking on a sharper, more calculated edge.  "Oh..." you murmured, the realization settling like a stone in your chest, heavy and unwelcome.

A wave of discomfort rippled through you as your thoughts spiraled further. Their proximity during the banquet, the way Andreia's laughter lingered just a little longer when Telemachus was around—it all seemed to point to something more deliberate.

Your shoulders dropped, the weight of understanding pressing down as if the very air around you had thickened.

Though you were a servant, you weren't naive to the grand scheme of royal affairs; you understood how alliances like these were often forged.

Telemachus, as the prince, was undoubtedly a prime candidate for marriage, and while his father's disappearance had delayed such matters, it hadn't erased the possibility entirely.

You could no longer dismiss those fleeting moments as mere coincidence or your own overthinking.

The thought left you feeling unsettled, your shoulders dropping slightly as the pieces began to align. "Oh..." you repeated, softer this time, the word carrying a note of resignation.

Callias, sensing the shift in your mood, straightened, looking at you more seriously. "Listen, ____" he said, his voice gentler now, "I don't think you have anything to worry about. The prince... he wouldn't—" He hesitated, his eyes searching yours as though trying to find the right words. "He wouldn't just go along with something like that. Not unless it's what he truly wanted."

His words lingered, and for a moment, you weren't even sure why he was trying to reassure you.

And even though you tried to deny it, a small, flickering part of you wanted to believe him, to believe that Telemachus—his warm smiles, his quiet moments of kindness—couldn't be capable of viewing you as nothing more than a servant to be discarded for the sake of an alliance.

But just as quickly as the thought surfaced, you buried it, pushing it down beneath the weight of your resignation, tucked away with the rest of your uncertainties.

It was easier to accept the ignorance, to leave those possibilities unexplored.

Clearing your throat, you gave him a faint smile, choosing to redirect the conversation. "Anyway," you began, your tone lighter now, "what else have I missed these past few days?"

Callias groaned dramatically, throwing his head back with an exaggerated moan. "You mean, what didn't you miss? Everything has been so dull!" he lamented, his voice laced with mock despair. "Dinners felt so empty—even with the musicians playing, they ended much quicker than usual. Honestly, it's been like the life was sucked out of the palace."

He paused, his expression shifting to something more reflective. "And the royal family? Well, I wouldn't say I'm close to them—I mean, who is, really? But..." He trailed off, his gaze distant, as though recalling the flashes of moments he had witnessed.

"I saw Queen Penelope in the kitchens a few times," he continued, his voice softening. "She was talking with the chef, making sure your broths were just right. She even sent one back because it wasn't warm enough."

You blinked, a rush of warmth spreading through your chest at the thought of the queen's quiet attentiveness. Callias went on, his tone taking on a storytelling rhythm.

"And after you fell 'ill,' King Odysseus ordered the construction of an overhead walkway.  You know, the one that connects the palace to the sheepfold and pigeon coops, and stuff?  It's supposed to protect the servants from the storms. They say he got the idea from the Phoenicians, or maybe one of those great cities he saw on his travels."

He smiled faintly, but his expression grew somber as he continued. "And then there's Prince Telemachus..." Callias' voice dropped slightly, as if hesitant to bring up the prince. "He's been... different. Sullen, I guess, unless he's around his parents. But even then, he's quieter than usual."

Your heart clenched, and you leaned in slightly, unable to stop yourself from asking, "What do you mean?"

Callias hesitated before answering. "I've also seen him in the library, flipping through scrolls and old texts. He's been talking with the palace physicians a lot too. And Bronte's physicians—he brought them in, you know. They were discussing remedies, illnesses, treatments... trying to figure out what could help. And the prince, well, he was asking questions—lots of them." His gaze turned to you, a small, knowing smile tugging at his lips. "About you."

Your breath hitched, and for a moment, you couldn't find your voice. A rush of emotions surged within you—disbelief, gratitude, and something else you couldn't quite name. You swallowed hard, your gaze dropping to the ground as you tried to process his words.

"He was... asking about me?"

Callias nodded. "Yeah. Looking for answers, I guess. He seemed... worried."

The weight of his words settled over you, and for a moment, you couldn't think of anything to say. The image of Telemachus—quiet and focused, sifting through scrolls and speaking with healers for your sake—made your chest tighten with an emotion you weren't ready to name.

You exhaled slowly, a shaky breath that seemed to carry away some of the tension in your shoulders. "I... I didn't know," you said softly, your voice barely above a whisper.

Callias gave you a small, reassuring smile, his earlier teasing replaced with a quiet understanding. "Well," he said gently, "now you do."

A/N: i know i know, sorry for leaving you guys like that, work is just really draining rn 😭😭 but enough about that, just wanted to apologize with these 2 new updates, yes yall heard right, 2 new chappies!!!! the next one should be up in the next 1h, hope my winxies enjoy my little sad attempts at story/plot building (i swear its a bit more difficult without an established plot/anime/moive there as reminder not to go too outlandish 😩) ❤️❤️

Tag List: @uniquetravelerone

[royal-cupidity]

Heh, guess whats out now?

also I’m thinking of rewriting chapter 4 to include smut.

[swaps55]

Mezzo - Chapter 13 - Wolves

Pairing: mshenko | Rating: M

Tags: Canon-typical violence, trauma, dealing with your problems poorly, body autonomy struggles  

Summary: The twists and turns of ME2, through the eyes of everyone but Commander Shepard.

Chapter Summary: Liara’s decisions come back to haunt. Joker finds himself in unexpected company. Mordin makes a discovery. Garrus is summoned to solve an aquatic mystery. Shepard’s biggest fan gets a cameo. AKA, The Normandy arrives at Illium and everyone is awkward about it.

Chapter 13: Wolves | Read on Ao3

21 December 2185, Crescent Nebula, Tasale System, Illium Liara curls her fingers around the railing, gaze locked on the observation window at the ghost ship coasting into Docking Bay 93. The last time she’d seen the Normandy, she’d been in pieces over Alchera, reduced to nothing but shrapnel tumbling past the tiny escape pod where she’d spent nearly thirty hours waiting for rescue, Caroline Grenado’s blood smeared across her hardsuit. (I will not leave you here alone.) The ship now parked serenely in Bay 93 is the wrong size, painted the wrong colors. The smoke, the leaking coolant, the shattered hull have all been erased. Ships had never meant much to Liara. Before the Normandy they were nothing more than a conduit between stars, a gateway to uncharted worlds where secrets lay buried in stone, waiting for her to discover them. Before the Normandy, she’d never even bothered to unpack a suitcase on a starship. But then Shepard had come to her rescue on Therum. Instead of focusing all her energy on the history dead and buried on all of those worlds, she’d come to care about the future, and what little of it there might be left. When she’d first boarded the Normandy, she’d had no bag to unpack even if she had wanted to. Her stay was to be as temporary as every other ship she had been on. But then Alenko had presented her with a small prothean flute they’d found on Feros. He’d had a case made for it on the Citadel and hung it for her in Dr. Chakwas’ back office. In that moment, the small space she had borrowed had become hers.   Do you think it still plays? Alenko had asked. Shall we find out? she had replied, before gently removing the flute from its case and playing a note, perhaps the first sound it had made in over fifty thousand years. The flute, like the Normandy, like Shepard, like Caroline Grenado, had all been lost over Alchera. But the ship, at least, has been reborn. And Shepard is aboard. Liara could not take back Grenado’s death. But she – or Cerberus, rather – had taken back his. She kneads her fingers as she waits. Curse the Nos Astra Docking Authority for all their blithering and bureaucracy. She has arrived much too early, but nothing to be done about it now. The last time she had seen Shepard remains perfectly clear in her memory. Slouching in a chair over coffee in the mess, digging at the gravity well even more than usual, excitement over getting back out in the Mako bleeding out as kinetic energy. See you later, T’Soni, he’d said as she’d taken her leave, crooked smile on his face. Now, at last, his words might be true. His death had taken so much with him. Any hope they had of learning what secrets Ilos held that might save them from the reapers had been locked in the prothean cipher he had possessed. Only Shiala could have closed that knowledge gap, but nearly a year since her disappearance from Feros, Liara hasn’t been able to recover her, either. But even Shiala did not have the Eden Prime beacon in her head. Shepard, be it through luck, fate, or sheer force of will, had been singularly unique. Without him, their galactic cycle may very well end the way the prothean’s had, and so many who had come before them. Snuffed out, world by world, until there was nothing left but scattered relics. Would, perhaps, some alien creature find some trinket of Liara’s and wonder who had held it, the way she’d held that flute? The Normandy hadn’t just taught her to start tending to the future. It had taught her to live in her present. Early mornings with Shepard over coffee. Daily calisthenics with Williams. Garrus and Wrex’s determined efforts to improve her aim with a pistol. Listening to Tali talk about her love stories. Alenko’s late night cooking. It had been so long since Liara had raised her head above her work and just…indulged in the people around her. Two years later, her heart still aches at the memory of Shepard’s final smile.      At long last, the airlock hisses open. Her heart jumps. She stands straighter. There he is.

Read from the beginning | Read the rest on Ao3 | The Mezzo Playlist

[giggly-squiggily]

💕 Candy Heart Valentine Event 2025! 💕

Heyo everyone! We're back at it again for the 2025 Candy Heart Valentine Event! :D I'm so excited to see what you've got in store this year! :D Thank you all for enjoying this event as much as I do- it's just so FUN!

Rules and sentence starters below the cut!

~Rules~

-Please check my pinned post for character restrictions and boundaries!

Puffs (Candy Hearts/Sentence Starters) will be open today (Jan 26) to Feb 13 10pm EST.

-Candy Hearts will start coming out Feb 1!

-Send me a sentence starters from the list below and a character(s) and I'll write a 300-500 word dabble for it!

-Can be tickles or non-tickles! Please specify which you'd like in your ask!

-I will write X-Reader!

-Can be romantic, platonic, or familial- please specify in your ask!

-I'd say the limit is around five? I'll let you know if that changes as the event goes on!

-Some fandoms may and will close- I will let you know what's still open and what's not!

~Candy Hearts~

❤️ Be Mine: “Oh that is IT! Come here!”

🧡 Miss You: “Don’t cry- give me a smile!”

💛 True Love: “I could do this all day.”

💚 Cutie: “You can't hide from me, I can hear you laughing!"

💙 XOXO: “Hey, do you like raspberries?”

💜 Angel: “What happens if I do this?”

❤️ I love you: "What a brave thing to say for someone so ticklish."

🧡 Bestie: Requester’s choice: Pick your own sentence starter!

💛 Sweet Heart: “Are you ticklish?”

💚 Cupid: “I’m gonna get you!”

💗 Say Yes: “Hey did you- give that back!"

💙 Smile: “I didn’t know you were ticklish here!”

💜 Hug: “I just want a hug!”

❤️ Darling: “Do you want me to tickle you?”

🧡 Love bug: “What’s so funny?”

💛 Soul Mate: “Not there? What about here?”

💚 Sweet Pea: “Is this a bad spot?”

💙 Adore: “I haven't even touched you yet!"

💜 Kiss me: “Do you want me to stop?”

❤️ Me + You: “No way! Since when were you this ticklish?”

🧡 Always and Forever: “Look how red you are! How cute!”

💛 I’m Yours: “You like being tickled, don’t you?”

💚 Puppy love: “Where are those giggles I love so much?”

💙 Only You: "Stop squirming!"

💜 Hot Stuff: “Come over here and make me!”

🩷 Be My Valentine: "I know all your weaknesses!"

❤ It's Love: "Hey could You...You Know?"

🧡 Babydoll: "Keep your arms up!"

~Fandoms~

-Big Windup

-Black Clover

- Blue Lock (Anime)

- Bungo Stray Dogs

- Buddy Daddies

-Cafe Enchante

-Code Realize

-Collar x Malice

-Chainsaw Man (Anime + Around Chapter 72 I think?)

-Cupid Parasite

-Danganronpa THH, SDR2 , V3

-Dr. Stone

-Death Note

-Demon Slayer

-Fire Force

-Free! Iwatobi Swim Club

-Fruits Basket

-Given

-Haikyuu!!

-Heartstopper

-Hell’s Paradise

-Hunter x Hunter (Up To Greed Island Arc)

-Jojo’s Bizzare Adventure Parts 2-6 (Anime)

-Jujutsu Kaisen (Anime + Movie)

-Moriarty The Patriot

-My Hero Academia

-Piofiore: Fated Memories

-Pokemon (Games)

-SK8 the infinity

-Spy x Family

-Toilet Bound Hanako-Kun

-Tokyo Revengers

-Tengoku Struggle: Strayside

-Vinland Saga (Mainly Season 2)

-Virche Evermore: Error Salvation (Up to La Salute)

-Wind Breaker (Anime)

-Yu Yu Hakushou

-9 RIP

That should be it! Lemme know if y'all have any questions! I'm so excited! :D Happy Candy Hearts!

[sp3ct3r3]

Reworked the logo for my comic that I never use because I’m allergic to drawing cover art and also I drew two new ones for my spin-off fics. the Segaverse one originally had the lettering effect for all the letters but it looked too complicated so I got rid of it

Hey! Have some of my fic links below the cut!

Chaotic AU: the Comic:

Summary: Evangeline Marie Robotnik, the niece of Dr. Eggman and one of the few half-human half-mobian hybrids navigates her abnormal existence and makes friends along the way (and takes down political corruption for fun)

Chaotic AU: The Segaverse Zone

Summary: it’s a Stobotnik fic folks! Taking place in the Segaverse Zone, home of Sega’s headquarters and the home zone of both Lynn Turner and Dr. Julian Robotnik, Dr. Ivo Robotnik begrudgingly hires Agent Stone as his bodyguard. Takes place between 2015 and the end of the third Sonic Movie (2024/early 2025)

https://archiveofourown.org/works/64653964/chapters/166085674

Chaotic AU: Out of the Archives (OotA)

Summary: Lynn Turner, the youngest of the four Zone Travellers who wound up in the sonic universe, finds themselves stuck in Cyberspace and is pulled out by none other than Dr. Julian Robotnik, who mysteriously claims to have known them previously.

https://archiveofourown.org/works/65123269/chapters/167485999

Sometimes I’ll make mini comics for these and I’ll make sure I tag them on my side blog appropriately from now on vv(^v^ )

[joelswritingmistress]

You Scare Me, Professor: Chapter 13

Summary: The reader is taking graduate classes at a local university in the wooded upstate New York. She is drawn to her professor, Dr. Joel Miller, though she is also inherently aware that he has something dark about him that she can't quite put her finger on. As the reader's attraction grows deeper, she has to decide whether to endure the danger or run away as fast as possible.

Pairing: Professor Joel Miller x f!reader

I was exhausted and exhilarated and it wasn’t even noon. A part of me was still wondering if I would wake up and this would all be a dream.

“I know you probably did your own exploring while I was gone,” he said with playful accusation, raising his eyebrows with a smirk once we were back to the main level and fully clothed. “But if you’d like a tour, I can show you around.”

My stomach sank just a bit. I shook my head. “I wasn’t snooping.”

“It’s okay,” Dr. Miller chuckled lightly, “I told you to make yourself at home.” He looked me directly in my eyes, “How far did you get?”

“Oh, uh..” There was no way I was about to lie to him. He would have known. I could tell he was in that human lie detector mode again, feeling me out, seeing if he could actually trust me. “I saw the pool table from the kitchen so I went in there and I couldn’t help but check out your library. I actually picked up a book and I hope I placed it back in the right spot.”

“Don’t worry about it.” He cleared his throat and led me by the hand again. “There’s another pool out back.” Dr. Miller walked us toward a set of French doors that opened up from the kitchen out back, where a light snow had begun to fall, covering a dark green pool cover.

I glanced around the area, eying what appeared to be an outdoor kitchen and bar and a little pool house to the right and left, respectfully. A black fence surrounded the area and beyond a grassy backyard behind the pool area were a collection of bare trees. In the distance I could tell there was a drop off, lined with oversized boulders and rocks.

We crossed into another living room space that appeared more casual than the one where I had made out with Dr. Miller on the couch the night before. This room had an oversized sectional couch that oozed with comfort. In the center was a giant, square coffee table with a rustic, wooden top and above it hung what appeared to be a chandelier made from deer antlers. The peaked ceiling was a pale wood, giving it a cabinesque feel with dark, wooden beams that crossed from wall to wall beneath. On either side of the triangular peak were two rectangle sky lights giving view to the overcast, snowy morning. A third, stone fireplace sat at the far end with what appeared to be a buffalo’s head mounted on the wall.

Dr. Miller placed his hands on my shoulders from behind and I swallowed hard. We both stared out a pair of windows to the left and right of the fireplace that gave a view of the snowfall. I shuddered when I felt his fingers dig into the muscles of my neck and he began to massage the area.

“This is beautiful,” I spoke, taking in the brightly lit surroundings that were offset by the first snow fall of the winter.

Dr. Miller’s phone made a subtle beeping noise, three consecutive beeps to be exact, and he suddenly froze and reached into the pocket of his pants.

I could tell from the look on his face that something was up. His fingers danced along the screen for a few seconds and then he looked back up to me.

“What’s wrong?” I could see that his expression had changed.

He reached for the remote that sat on an end table beside the short end of the sectional. “Get comfortable.” Dr. Miller reached for a cozy, plaid blanket on the back of the couch and walked me around to sit down.

I raised my eyebrows , “Okay. Are you going somewhere?” I sensed that would be his next revelation and already felt disappointed. I didn’t want to be away from him. I knew that was selfish, childish even; but I didn’t care. My face might as well have gone into a full pout.

“Just for a few minutes,” Dr. Miller explained.

“Okay.” I cleared my throat and couldn’t help but pry. “What was the notification? A text?”

He shook his head. “No.”

There wasn’t another woman, right? I immediately felt jealous and it was as if he could read my mind.

“It wasn't a message from anyone,” Dr. Miller explained. He sighed and squatted before me where I sat on the couch, placing a hand on my ankle. “I have to go take care of something.”

His phone jingled again and he kept it planted face down against his thigh. My curiosity piqued even more. I felt like word vomit was about to come out of my mouth and it would leave all of my inner insecurities completely transparent.

“Does it have to do with another.. umm.. someone else? Another woman?” I stuttered the words out but I had to know. I hated myself for asking.

Dr. Miller smiled and then walked his hands up the couch cushions and planted a steamy kiss on my lips. He then pecked them chastely and remained close as he spoke.

“There are no other women.”

I swallowed hard and let out a sigh against his lips.

“And I'm going to have to demand there are no other men in your life as long as you're with me.”

My eyes snapped open and I stared back at him. He held a little smirk but his voice hardened just a bite as he spoke the words. I smiled back.

“There are no other men.”

“Good,” Dr. Miller spoke against my lips now. “As of right now, you're all mine until further notice.”

I smiled again and closed my eyes as he kissed me again, resting a hand on his bearded cheek.

“But I do have to go take care of something. It won't take long.”

“Okay,” I said. I still wanted to dig deeper into whatever business he had to tend to but I didn't. For now, I could live with whatever was going on as long as it didn't involve someone else.

Dr. Miller pushed the power button on the remote and handed it to me. “Don't go anywhere.” He winked and wandered away, making me grin.

I listened for a moment as I heard the jingle of keys and then the opening and closing of the front door. A second later I heard a robotic voice sound off stating: House alarm on.

Being alone in the oversized living room felt odd because of the unfamiliarity of it all, but I couldn't deny that I was perfectly content beneath the warm blanket as I sunk into the cushions a little deeper, laying my head back.

I can get used to this, I thought.

I began to scroll through the stations, landing on the local news and weather to get in touch with how much snow was to be expected. I knew I should have been more in tune with that sort of thing.

The five day forecast was plastered across the screen as a voice narrated from behind the camera.

“We're anticipating two to three inches of snowfall, though by rush hour the precipitation is expected to stop. If you don't have to be on the roads before five o'clock, stay home. If you are out and about, drive slow.”

I glanced out the window at the big, chunky flakes that left the ground almost completely covered. I didn't know where Dr. Miller was off to but I hoped he wasn't going far.

“And onto our next story, two local women have been found dead on the campus of Woodbridge University. One of them was a student there, and no suspects are currently in police custody. Police are urging residents to travel in groups whenever possible, and while no town-wide curfew has been set, it is crucial for students on campus to abide by the curfew set by the Woodbridge University Police.” A woman spoke directly into the camera with one of the main stone buildings on campus in the background.

“It's really scary,” a young woman spoke into a microphone. She sported a winter hat with a blue W in the center. “You just can't be too careful. We have to look out for each other.”

“I can't believe this is happening here,” another student commented.

I shook my head and shuddered, suddenly worried for Tori. It had only been one night but she was at the house alone and the news triggered a reason to reach out to her.

My eyes searched the immediate area but I quickly realized my phone was still on a charger in the bedroom. For the first time in my adult life, I hadn't even thought about my phone for hours on end.

I tossed the blanket to the side and crossed back through the house and up the windy staircase. I had the urge to open the two closed doors as I passed by but I didn't dare.

The phone sat where I had left it on the nightstand, plugged in and fully charged. I began thumbing the screen, finding our last messages from earlier in the morning.

Hey, I wrote, Just checking in because of everything that's happening with the girls in town. Please be safe! I won't be home for a few days.

I slipped the phone into the pocket of my lounge pants and smiled to myself as I glanced upon the tossed about sheets on the oversized bed. I still hadn't had time to process everything.

With a sigh I left the room and peaked in through the open office door. I could picture Dr. Miller sitting there with his glasses and a stack of papers, licking his fingers as he flipped from paper to paper.

In the back corner of the room there were a collection of small screens, each with a black and white image.

Cameras. I knew it.

I looked over my shoulder before wandering across the carpeted floor. All of the images were broadcasting the exterior of the home from every angle possible. The two interior cameras gave a few of the collection of cars inside the garage.

At least they aren't inside. Still, I didn't rule out that he might have one or two hiding out somewhere.

The view of the main gates showed what appeared to be an idling black SUV. I couldn't tell if it was him at first but Dr. Miller stood beside it, speaking with whoever was in the driver’s seat.

Who could that be? I wondered. An arm extended out the window and extended a white package of some sort to Dr. Miller, who accepted it and tucked it into the back of his pants.

An envelope. That's what it was.

I shuddered and hurried back downstairs, not at all knowing what to make of the exchange.

Secrets. I knew Dr. Miller had secrets but what were his? Fear definitely made its way into the depths of my heart and soul, but all of my other emotions teamed up and continued to push the fear down so deep that I barely felt it.

I was captivated. Enthralled. Infatuated. I was oversexed with desire and blinded by all of my feelings for him. Fear, currently, didn't hold any weight. Recognizing that in itself was scary - but I wasn't in the mood for logic, not when this amazing dark fairytale was explicitly in my lap.

With my adrenaline spiked and my longing for Dr. Miller’s return in full effect, I tiptoed my way back downstairs, tucked myself neatly beneath the blanket and waited for him patiently. Like a good girl would do.

CLICK HERE FOR NEXT CHAPTER

@untamedheart81 @suttonspuds@cesspitoflove @michilandcof @grogusmum @morallyinept @akah565 @brittmb115 @magpiepills @poodlebae @gobaaby-blog-blog @mermaidgirl30 @mandijo17

[alms4oblivion]

In The Eyes Of A Child, Chapter 14: The Mirrored Soul

Theirs is the True Voice of Heaven. They are the Angel’s Bane. They are the divine made flesh, whose glory saved the remnant of humanity from the end of all that is. They are the Mirrorsouled, and we give thanks for their protection. Let no servant of the Tyrant step foot within the Salvian Protectorate, lest the Voice of Heaven lay them low. By their love are we blessed with salvation.

-an excerpt from the textbook “Civics and Salvation”, by Sister Yasmine Amunet, 10 year old - 13 year old edition

Mira had decided that she hated meeting new people. She had not wanted to prejudge. She had spent most of her life in the Cradle, and for whatever reason meeting new people there, refugees or traveling Sisters, had always been pleasant. But everywhere else…she had been shot with a dart, set upon by wraith-ridden wolves, told that her parents abandoned her, stabbed (shallowly) in the neck, and now was being held at spear point. Chanel and Hans were nice, she supposed. But it wasn’t worth it, not really.

From the archway above the steps surrounding the depression in which she and Lilith stood entered a woman with light brown skin and curly hair to her shoulders, dark, with bits of gray. She wore ivory robes and carried an ornate staff, golden, with an inverted cross at its tip. A guard, red mist leaking from his skin, met her at the top of the steps and handed her the letter from Lilith. The woman opened the letter and her eyes rapidly scanned the page, though she remained expressionless at its contents.

“Good morning, Yasmine. I have another for Jillian.” Lilith produced a second letter and held it aloft. Sister Yasmine nodded at the guard, who descended the steps once more, passing back through the ring of spears until he stood before Lilith. She did not move, nor did she look at him. “I said it was for Jillian.”

The guard swallowed visibly, then turned to look at Sister Yasmine, who closed her eyes slowly. When she opened them, she gestured with her head for the guard to return.

They all stood there, unmoving, while Mira fought the urge to ask Lilith what exactly was going on, and why there were two letters, and what was wrong with giving the other letter to Sister Yasmine anyway, when she heard a rhythmic pounding behind her. She turned and saw a trio of guards run into view. They were dressed the same as the others, clean, light tan uniforms too bulky not to contain armor and carrying spears, but they eyed the others in the chamber warily as they slowed.

Lilith turned casually. “From Dr. Salvius?”

They nodded rapidly, and descended together. Mira noted that none of them were wraith-ridden, though several other guards in the room were. Lilith handed the other letter to the lead guard, who took it unopened and left as they had come.

When they had left, Mira jumped at the sudden sound of Sister Yasmine striking the base of her staff against the flagstone. “By the terms of the treaty, your missive has been received. I abjure ye, now, begone demon, and stain not the Holy Land with your–”

“Disappointed yet?” Lilith whispered. “Be well, Mira. I hope we'll meet again soon.” And she was gone.

“--darken our…” Sister Yasmine trailed off and sighed. “Mira, is it? Come with me, please.”

Mira made up for the slowness of her reaction by taking the steps two at a time. By the time she reached the top, Sister Yasmine had turned and begun to make her way towards the maw of the building. Mira looked up and could just barely see great stone spikes sticking up from the top of the building into the air, ringing it like a crown. The Savior’s Palace.

Mira caught up to Sister Yasmine just inside, and was struck by a sudden chill. It was warm outside, more than warm in the August sun, but there was none of that inside. The air felt crisp like winter, but with the cool of a perfect day in late spring.

“It feels really nice in here,” she whispered, not entirely on purpose.

Sister Yasmine looked at her and opened her mouth to speak.

“I’ve read all your books, I can’t believe I’m meeting you, I mean, I can believe, I just, I love your writing so, so much, and um…” Mira realized late what was coming out of her mouth and widened her eyes. “No, I mean, I’m sorry, that’s, you probably hear that all, from everyone, I didn’t mean to, oh my gosh I’m so sorry, I just–” Mira swallowed hard and looked straight ahead, afraid to open her mouth again.

When Sister Yasmine replied “What a lovely compliment,” Mira tried really hard not to imagine that Sister Yasmine was on the verge of laughing at her.

They continued in silence through the halls before stopping at a pair of doors that slid sideways into the walls to reveal a box. It reminded her of Lilith’s Tower in Pandemonium, though without the glass walls.

“Have you ever been on an elevator before?” Sister Yasmine’s voice was curious, but not unkind.

“Once.”

Yasmine pushed a small circle in the interior wall that began to glow.

“Why aren’t there any guards with us?” There had been guards, of course, throughout the hallways. Some patrolling, others guarding posts. But none of those who had met Mira and Lilith outside had followed Mira and Yasmine through the hallways.

Yasmine looked at her sideways and raised an eyebrow. “Do you think I can’t handle myself against a thirteen year old?”

“Oh, no! I didn’t mean, that, I just…” Mira gestured uselessly at her chest in lieu of shouting about the divine artifact lodged around her heart.

Mira felt a strange feeling in the pit of her stomach as the elevator pulled to a stop and a small chime sounded before the door opened.

“Come on then. I can’t have you wandering the halls. Unless you’d prefer I get you some guards?”

Mira shook her head and followed Sister Yasmine down the tall stone corridor.

Continue on AO3

[tinynerdz360]

Future Ghost Chapter 9

Edit date 6/13/25

Flashback: In the ghost zone: Far Frozen: Dr. Bonechiller:

After a long fight with ghost after ghost and then Vlad, Danny found himself in the swirling green void of the ghost Zone. He was drifting closer to the Far Frozen. He planned to make a pit stop there before heading home. Dr. Bonechiller would help patch him up. The giant Yeti was a gentle soul.

"Danny, come in," Dr. Bonechiller called, his furry face peering out. Danny phased through the door into the examination room. The good yeti doctor sat Danny down on a medical bed and started patching up his wounds, making small talk as he went.

After his current injuries were tended to, Danny perked up and asked a question that he had wanted to ask for a while but kept forgetting or backing out.  

"Hey Doc. So... about these electrical scars..." Danny held up his arm, revealing the Lichtenberg scar branching from his hand up to his shoulder. "Any way to get rid of them?"

Dr. Bonechiller examined the scar, his large fingers tracing the pattern. "I'm afraid not, Danny. These types of scars are tied to the trauma you experienced. They'll only fade once you've emotionally processed and healed from what happened. Once your core has healed from the trauma that inflected this injury. Technically, there is no surface damage; it’s more of a reminder to you."

Danny's shoulders slumped. "Great, so I'm stuck with them."

"For now, yes. But you're strong, Danny. You'll get through this." Dr. Bonechiller turned and retrieved a small black data chip. "Here, this contains all your important medical information from your visits and extra information I felt you would find helpful. It also contains my emergency contact. Only call me if it’s an emergency. Keep it safe."

Danny took the smooth rock. Part of him wondered if this was some odd joke. Danny decided not to ask how to access the data chip, stone technology, or whatever this was. He felt too prideful and embarrassed to ask. *I bet Tucker can figure it out.* With that thought he tucked it into his pocket. "Thanks, Doc. I will."

Danny unfortunately forgot about the smooth stone in his pocket, failing to ever ask Tucker to look at it.

Enterprise: Sickbay

Danny found himself under the keen gaze of Dr. McCoy. The hum of medical equipment provided a soothing backdrop to the tension that had taken root in Danny's chest.

"Alright, let's take a look at you," McCoy said, scanning Danny with a medical tricorder. The readings were all over the place, flickering between human and some unknown energy signature.

"Fascinating," McCoy murmured. "Your cellular structure is in flux. I've never seen anything like it."

“Yeah…...” Danny mumbled sheepishly, rubbing the back of his neck with his hand. “I guess that’s cause I can switch between two different forms.”

McCoy nodded. "And this ability of yours to switch between ghost and human form...it's fascinating. I'd like to see it in action later, if you're up for it."

"Sure, Dr. McCoy," Danny said, though he couldn't shake the sense of being a specimen under a microscope.

McCoy's eyes fell on the electrical scar peeking out from under Danny's sleeve. He gently took Danny's arm, pushing up the fabric. "Those electrical burns from the accident, too?" McCoy asked gently.

Danny pulled his arm back, tugging the sleeve down. His shoulders hunched, and his gaze dropped to the floor. "Yeah," he mumbled.

McCoy's heart ached for the boy. What kind of parents let their teenage son wander into an active portal unsupervised? He resolved to get Danny the counseling he likely needed.

“Would you like me to treat it?” McCoy afford. “A dermal generator will patch this up in no time.”

"Dr. McCoy, these... they aren't just scars; they're remnants of trauma that echo in my ghost form," Danny began, cautiously opening up about his past injuries. "When I'm in my human form, they're like memories. I was told that technically that they are healed physically, it’s like a physical reminder of my trauma, and they won’t fade until I deal with it.”

McCoy leaned forward; his professional curiosity piqued. "You mean to tell me these are more than physical? That they're tied to your... psyche?"

“Yeah, I guess so, I was told I’d have to deal with it emotionally and mentally…..In the Ghost Zone, where I'm from, we have something called a core," Danny began, tapping his chest. "It's like a heart, but it's the source of our powers. When I got shocked, it...it hurt my core. Left these scars." *Granted, that shock created my core, but I don’t really want to explain that. * Danny thought to himself.

McCoy nodded, jotting down notes on his PADD. "Now, tell me—do these scars cause you any pain?"

“Sometimes…...usually on the day I got it…..like an anniversary. It hurts all over on that day like it did when it first happened.”

McCoy made a note on his tablet.

 “So this core, it's a physical organ?" McCoy asked.

Danny shrugged. "Sort of? It's more like a manifestation of our essence. Our souls, I guess you could say."

McCoy raised an eyebrow at Danny's poor explanation. The kid was clearly no doctor. "Alright," he said, lowering his tone. "Where exactly would this core of yours be located?"

Danny bristled. "That's private," he insisted. "People just don't give that info out."

McCoy squinted down at the teen ensign, his patience wearing thin. "Listen, kid," he growled, "that's what doctors are for—to help when private things get hurt."

"I..." Danny started, his voice shaking. "I don't know if you can even detect it in my human form. But it's under my human heart." He paused, taking a deep breath.

McCoy picked up his tricorder again. "Speaking of your ghost form, do you think you could show me? I'd love to get some readings and see how your biology changes."

Danny hesitated, old instincts urging him to keep his powers hidden. But he forced them down.

"Alright," he agreed, hopping off the biobed. "Just...don't freak out, okay?"

McCoy chuckled. "Kid, I've seen my fair share of strange things in this galaxy. I think I can handle a little ghost action."

Danny took a deep breath, reaching for the familiar chill at his center. A flash of light engulfed him; twin rings traveling across his body as he transformed.

McCoy watched in awe as the scrawny teenage boy was replaced by a white-haired, green-eyed floating teen. His tricorder scanning and recording away.

"Remarkable," he breathed. "Your entire molecular structure has been altered."

Danny rubbed the back of his neck, suddenly self-conscious under the doctor's intense scrutiny. "So, this is my ghost half."

McCoy circled him, tricorder whirring. "And you can switch between this form and your human one at will?"

Danny nodded. "It took some practice, but yeah. It's like flipping a switch."

Danny transformed back into a human, with a wry smirk on his face. "That's me. Just your average half-ghost freak."

McCoy frowned at the self-deprecation. "Hey, now. None of that. You're not a freak, Danny. You're unique. Also, I’m pretty sure you check all the boxes to be counted as a living being, just cause you all call yourselves ghosts, doesn’t make you any less alive. "

Danny ducked his head, unused to such open acceptance.

"Thanks, Doc," he said softly.

McCoy smiled, resting a hand on Danny's shoulder and gently squeezing it.

****

"First things first, you're going to rewrite your mission reports. Add in the details about when you used your powers. I want a full picture. And the captain will want that full picture as well.” McCoy ordered. Giving the teen work to keep him busy. As well as getting on record any time Danny used his powers on past away missions to help the crew. It would only help the boy’s case, especially if they could confirm the weird energy readings they had recorded were him. Already from McCoy’s scans, he could tell it was the same type of energy reading.

Danny groaned inwardly, hating paperwork with every fiber of his being. "Reports, really? Isn't there something more... hands-on I could be doing?"

"Nope!” McCoy said with a wry grin. "And while you're at it, I'll be setting you up with some educational material. We need to fill in the gaps in your knowledge."

"Education tests? I've done fine in engineering," Danny protested, but McCoy raised an eyebrow at him.

"Son, engineering is one thing. But you skipped high school and the Academy. We need to know where you stand academically." McCoy handed him a PADD loaded with learning modules. "Except for history," he added sternly. "You're blocked from those searches, given your status."

"But...but I know stuff!" Danny protested. "My parents taught me a lot about science and engineering."

"I don't doubt that. But humor me, alright?" McCoy tapped at the PADD.

Danny slumped in defeat. "This is payback for lying, isn't it?"

McCoy smirked. "Consider it tough love, kid. Now, get to it. Doctor's orders."

Danny sighed, accepting the PADD. Writing reports and taking tests wasn't exactly his idea of a good time, but it may be worth the hassle if it meant gaining the crew's trust and understanding.

"Yes, sir," Danny said.

"Hope to it, kid," McCoy grunted, patting Danny's shoulder.

He stared down at the PADD in his hands, trepidation swirling in his gut. Rewriting all those reports, recalling each time he'd used his powers to save the day...it was going to be tough and tedious.

*It's just great! Here I am in space but stuck in a space hospital doing my least favorite thing: HOMEWORK! * Danny mentally groaned to himself.

As he got to work on his assignments, he glanced up and noticed his friend Kas enter his med bay room. At first, he felt happy to see her, but then he felt fearful. *Oh, God, what if she knows?  What if she’s mad? What if she hates me?* Danny hunched his shoulders, not wanting to face the music. He had forgotten the Andorian girl worked in medbay. She might know everything.

Danny was surprised when he felt Kas’s arms wrapped around his shoulder in a side hug. It was a bit awkward with him sitting up in a bed.

“Are you all right?” Kas asked, her big black eyes looking at him with concern. “I saw you got a talking to by the big three! That must have been scary!”

“I’m alright, Kas…...wait, you’re not mad?” Danny asked.

“No! Why would I be mad? Is it about you being underage? Now don’t be mad about how I know that, Daryle might have let that slip…..But I’m sure it will all turn out ok!” Kas rumbled, giving him a tight squeeze.

“Yeah, I’m fifteen…...” Danny wheezed as Kas hugged him tighter. He was surprised at her strength.

“OMG! You’re just a baby!” Kas squealed.

“Oh god! I can’t breathe!” Danny joked. It was only partly true; he’d be fine without breathing, but man, was she hugging him tight.

Kas let go and frantically apologized. She looked a bit embarrassed. “Sorry for being too much, but I just want you to know we can still be friends.”

Danny felt so relieved. “You’re not mad about the hybrid things either?”

“Hybrid? What do you mean?” Kas asked.

“Oh…..I thought……I thought everyone would know since I got caught.” Danny stammered.

“Danny! This is medical; we aren’t going to air your private medical files! But no, I didn’t know.”

“Oh……” Danny blushed, realizing his mistake and how he just outed himself.

“You don’t have to tell me if you don’t want to…...that’s private stuff, you know?” Her blue antenna dropped in concern. “But for what it's worth, I don't think any less of you. So, you're a little different. So what? We're all unique in our own ways. And I won’t go around telling people if you don’t want that."

Danny's smile grew a bit more genuine. "Thanks, Kas. I appreciate that. And please don’t tell; it was hard enough coming clean earlier…..."

Kas shot him a sympathetic look before bustling off to attend her duties, leaving him alone with his thoughts.

****

Doctor McCoy was examining Danny again. Danny was getting really tired of being poked, prodded, and scanned. But he was trying his best to be good. Maybe they’d let him stay if he was good.

“Danny, have you ever had someone to talk to about ghost stuff and the accident? Not just friends or family but a professional?" McCoy asked. He was already making a list of potential therapists for the kid to see. A few were already on the ship, and a few were selected for video calls. He was just curious if the kid had ever gone to therapy before.

Danny hesitated, memories of Dr. Bonechiller surfacing in his mind. "Actually...yeah. Back in my own time, I found a ghost doctor who helped me understand my powers and how they affected my body. I’d go to him if I were close by, and he’d help me if I were hurt."

Danny's eyes widened. "Actually! Dr. Bonechiller gave me a data chip with all my information. I completely forgot about it until now. It's back in my quarters."

"Kid, you're telling me you've had your medical records this whole time?" Dr. Leonard McCoy grumbled as he glared at Danny Fenton, who had the grace to look sheepish. His arms crossed, McCoy leaned back against the edge of a biobed in Sick Bay. "And it didn't occur to you to mention it?"

Danny fidgeted, scratching the back of his neck where the electrical scar ended. "I kind of forgot about it, Doc. Everything's been so crazy since I got here..."

"Forgot," McCoy echoed with a huff, shaking his head. Typical teenagers, forgetting important things. "Well, go get it then. Kas can go with you. I’d rather have it than fly blind.”  

Danny nodded eagerly but was also too embarrassed to mention that he didn’t know how to access the ghost file.

Danny rummaged through his belongings in his quarters, searching for the data chip Dr. Bonechiller had given him. After a few minutes, he triumphantly held up the small, black stone. "Found it!"

Kas stood behind Danny, looking around his room, which he shared with Weston. Danny was very relieved his roommate wasn’t in.

Before they could leave and head back to sickbay, the door to the room opened.

The door slid open, revealing Walton Weston. His smile faltered when he spotted Danny. "Oh. It's you."

“Yes, just us, and we are leaving,” Danny said, trying to sidestep with Kas in tow.

Weston blocked the exit by leaning against the doorframe, arms crossed. "Why are you letting him out and about, Kas? He’s dangerous, probably some sort of alien shapeshifter.”

Danny's hands clenched into fists at his sides. "I'm not an alien."

“Back off, Weston, or I’ll report you for harassment and intolerance.” Kas glared, getting in between Danny and Weston.

“But I was right, wasn’t I?! He was lying this whole time! He should be in the brig!” Weston shouted.

Kas grabbed Danny's hand and shoved Weston out of the way. “You need to be quiet, and that’s not up to you. Danny is a patient in sickbay, you need to back off.”

Weston glared at their retreating forms.

~Back in sickbay~

Danny held out what looked like a polished, black stone. "Here it is, Doctor McCoy."

"Looks like a paperweight," McCoy muttered, taking the object and turning it over in his hand. "How does it work?"

"Uh..." Danny hesitated, his youthful face scrunching up in concentration. "Dr. Bonechiller just handed it to me. He didn't really explain."

"Of course, he didn't," McCoy said, not quite managing to hide a smile at the teen's befuddlement.

"Let's see if we can't make heads or tails of this thing." McCoy activated his tricorder and passed it over the stone. The device emitted an odd whirring sound, its screen displaying a series of fluctuating energy patterns that were undeniably similar to Danny's unique readings.

"Interesting..." McCoy mused, eyebrows knitting together.

"Yeah, I'm not really sure how it works," Danny admitted sheepishly. "Ghost technology can be pretty weird."

"I bet Scotty would love to take a look at this. Maybe he can figure out how to access the medical data stored inside." McCoy mused.

Chapter 10

[itadorysss]

girl i'm gonna be so fr i cried so hard reading this chapter 😭

OHHH EREN KNOWS MIKASA AND KENNY ARE RELATED 😰😰

OMG YMIR!!! YUMIHISU PLS YUMIHISU PLSSS I NEEEED YUMIHISU

OMG IT ACTUALLY MAKES ME MAD THAT YMIR THINKS ITS LARA LIKE EREN DOESNT LIKE LARA 😡😡😡

part of mikasa's backstory but at what cost...💔💔💔💔

"Mikasa sobbed harder, grief clawing its way out of her chest in ragged gasps. She wept for the five lives lost under her watch, for Zofia, who’d gotten injured, for Elaine Tybur, who’d always treated her with kindness. For August, who could have lost her last night. She cried for Jean, for not being the woman he thought she was. She cried for Eren— Eric, for hating that she couldn’t trust him but wanting him anyway. “I’m so tired,” She choked out. “So tired, Sash.”" SLEEPING ON THE HIGHWAY OMG 💔💔 MY POOR MIKASA 😭 AND SHE WANTS HIM ANYWAY AHHH 😭💔💔💔 literally sobbing (fr)

LEVIIIII 😋😋😋 IM GUESSING EITHER HE OR KENNY SENT THE BASKETS BC IT WAS THEIR FAVORITE SNACKS AND ALSO THE TEA CUP THING SO PROBABLY LEVI

GIRL AS ALWAYS SUCH AN AMAZING CHAPTER!! CANT WAIT FOR THE NEXT ONE 🤭🤭 ALSO ANY BOOK/FIC/ANIME RECOMMENDATIONS PLSS 🙏🙏 I LOVE MYSTERY AND STUFF LIKE THAT BUT ALSO CUTESY ROMANCE STUFF AND ALSO FANTASY 😋

HEY GIRL I AM SORRY FOR MAKING YOU CRY😭

THEIR CIRCLE IS GETTING SMALLERRRRR EREN NOW KNOWS AUGUST AND GISELE ARE TOGETHERRR

ugh I love Ymir, as for yumihisu.... chapter 13!

LMAO the way Ymir rlly thought Eren was all lovesick over LARA???!?!?! LIKE HELL NO!

Mikasa's breakdown actually had me pausing to cry my eyes out a bit, like my sweet girl has been through so much trauma and she's finally letting it all out, that scene felt almost cathartic for her

and if you think thats the end of her backstory... oh buckle up bc that girl has been through HELL and back😭 it is really fcking sad tbh, idk maybe I'm just a masochist bc I was literally tearing up so bad while writing it😭

YOU ARE RIGHT ABOUT WHO MIGHT HAVE SENT THE BASKETS HEHEHEE, MORE ON THAT IN CHAPTER 12

AS FOR RECS I GOTCHU!

one of the main series that inspired a lot of the fbi work in caprice is the naturals series by Jennifer Lynn barnes, I absolutely fcking LOVE that series. tbh any book by JLB is a good ass time, especially the inheritance games and the debutantes series- such good YA mystery with a side of romantic subplot (but be aware- JLB loves her love triangles a little too much)

I just finished the blood and steel series last month and that was soooo good as well, great fantasy rec

and I the second crimson moth book is on my April tbr because I really enjoyed book 1

and if you havent read sunrise on the reaping by Suzanne collins... DO SO AT RISK OF YOUR OWN SANITY

currently I am reading magnolia parks and when I say I feel like that series is about to become my whole personality and I am only on book 1...

for cute romances: any book by Elle Kennedy or liz tomforde, or Kennedy Ryan!

as for anime, my fav anime is FMAB, if you havent watched it... PLEASE DO!!!! and demon slayer, sxf, the great pretender, wotakoi, fruits basket, parasyte, dr stone

LOVE YOU GIRL!!!!❤️

[parzival911]

Chapter 3 - A Call to Adventure Answered

Recommended Tea: Spiced Apple Chai (unless you're sick of apples already, your Highness 😉)

Covering Chapter 2, I noted how Lewis fused Peter and Lucy in a symbolic representation of trusting one's intuition. Lewis opts to mirror that now with the opposite pairing...

"'Oh!' said Edmund... 'I've just seen it all... You know what we were puzzling about last night... however long we seemed to have lived in Narnia, when we got back through the wardrobe it seemed to have taken no time at all?' 'Go on,' said Sudan. 'I think I'm beginning to understand.'" (330)

Lewis likewise flips the role of magic, this time anointing Lucy the task; like her sister last chapter, she slips, "I know I can't swim for nuts at home--in England, I mean" (329). Never noticed that one before.

The other moments jumping out from this chapter*

"Pavenders, a beautiful rainbow-coloured fish" (332) are made up for Narnia.

Lewis reflects, "I never heard of a Dwarf who was a fool" (332); he clearly changed his mind, a sentiment I hope to revisit reaching The Last Battle.

Chapter 4 - Intro to Telmarine Tyranny 101

This forms a core part of why I always anticipate the tale of Caspian the Tenth. Like the Stone Table, Lewis hints and teases more history than he reveals.

Lewis only highlights the hair color for two characters (both the same it turns out): the Dwarf (as yet unnamed) and the Queen.

Miraz cuts Caspian off at two interesting parts: his description of fauns and then of course Aslan (335).

Doctor Cornelius telling the Prince "you'd be whipped" right after hearing song #3 (below).

Lewis' foreshadowing by locale (337); expounded upon in the next post (this coincided with song #4 and reading about the full moon)

My full thoughts have been shifted to a standalone post; stay tuned.

The only other thing that jumped out at me: the sense of hope that I took from Narnia. The stars aligning "means some great good... Tarva, the Lord of Victory, salutes Alambil, the Lady of Peace." (338)

"I have often despaired; but something always happens to start me hoping again." -- Doctor Cornelius (339)

I agree, Doctor 😀

Perpetually positive-minded, Parzival

* Beyond the ones requiring the right clearance level that is.

Background Music: No more perfect playlist than the songs I heard both before, during, and after reading over a tasty crepe.

1 - The perfect song to walk in with 🙂 2 [Classified] Unless you're cleared, Dr. Blackwood. 3 - The first song I downloaded off Napster 25 years ago 4 - Bringing two people to mind, both Lutherans incidentally; one I've mentioned before. The other touched me even platonically sharing, "I love you like a friend I've known for years." 5 - Nice to know when they'll be in Italy... 6 - The second song to bring a special someone to mind this morning. It began right after Lewis describing the Dwarf's hair, which happens to match her. (And I'm still standing on a beach with the Pevensies.) 7 - The original played, but the translation's called for here; it began right after settling into storytelling by the Dwarf 8 - As the rain came down and walking to find a Rio parked ahead 9 - Second result (should I really be surprised at this point?) 10 - Her full name was enough; to watch the video though after the previous (published only a day off)? As for the title... ya think?? 11 - Given the ending of the last, fitting finding this first on leaving; it came after the lesson following Grammar (337), reminding me of a movie moment I would relish reliving in real life. Fun fact about that. 12 [Classified] 13 - Something told me, "Don't pick the video you heard before, but this one. The date didn't disappoint. (Nor the suggested favorite's view total.) 14 - The first of two instances I heard it yesterday (and between the comments, views, and starting it at 7:19, now I know more why)

[greycappedjester]

December/New Year Update Plans

Hey, everyone! Happy Holidays!

So, a bit of a life update along with what I'm working on with my writing schedule coming up. For life, I'm in my final PhD year (yay!) which means I've been working on finishing my dissertation (much more stressed yay!) which is why my writing schedule these past few months has been a lot more spread out.

The good news: My data is pretty much collected and my first draft is near complete so I'm hoping I can get back to my more regular updates

The less good news: My diss still has to be my priority rn and sometimes things come up unepectedly that I have to handle urgently so it might still be screwing up the schedule some. I really always and continually appreciate all of your support/patience when the schedule gets behind.

My overall plans for the upcoming year is to work on finishing Keiji Akaashi and the Department of Mysteries, (hopefully) finishing Past is a Mirror, and finish up the current chapter arc (Death in the Family) in After the Fall of Olympus and start on the next one. These are my priorities; my "in the wing/next-up" expected writing projects are likely to be a Flash Facts short story, the next Cards story, another Investigations Inc story, and a new story in the Dr. Stone fandom. All of those are currently taking a back-seat to my mentioned current onging fics; but, I'm hoping I get to add one or two of those going next year while still keeping a regular update schedule.

For the near future, I'm working on fixing something up outline-wise with HqHp so I'm expecting an update schedule to look like....

#1 ATFO Ch. 23 (last in Year 9: Death in the Family arc)

#2 Department of Mysteries Ch. 12

#3 Past is a Mirror Ch. 4

#4 Department of Mysteries Ch. 13

[mckiwi]

McKiwi's Fic Recs

(Gen/Platonic/Minor) PART 1/2

These are all completed. Some are multi chapter. Most have very little smut, if any at all, so if you like that kind of stuff, you’re on your own. AUs are included. If I felt the characterizations were too off, it’s not here. If grammar was unacceptable, it’s not on this list. All of these have Stephen as a main character. These are organized by word count and genre. I've tried to include a little bit of (almost) everything. If you have any suggestions, feel free to reblog with those.

Blue indicates registered users only

REC LIST UNDER CUT

"A Letter To The Universe" by Laily: [414 words / Angst] Warning: Contains spoilers for the new Doctor Strange movie Pain is an old friend, but this new pain is too much for Doctor Stephen Strange. Luckily, he is not alone.

"Are You Happy, Stephen?" by Tricktress: [883 words / Angst] From the moment he felt a foreign magic curl around his neck, Stephen knew something had gone horribly, horribly wrong. He didn’t have any time to protect himself from the inky purple magic. He only thrashed as it entered his body and tried to take control. Strange Tales of Halloween Prompt Month Day 13: Silent

“Now I Fall” by amethyst-noir: [944 words / Angst] "I have to go now. I can hear Tony and Donna calling me." (Stephen's fragile hold on sanity snaps for good and it falls to Wong to make sure that he's safe and can't hurt himself or others.)

"Lady Death and the Man Who Wouldn't Die" by Tricktress: [1296 words / Canon Divergence] It was using the darkhold that was truly the final straw. He had been…noticed for all of the nonsensical stunts he had pulled off in his time as a sorcerer. From bargaining with his life in a time loop with Dormammu to pulling off the chess match of a millenia with the subtle positioning of Tony Stark and giving up the time stone. Things were starting to take notice… Strange Tales of Halloween 2022 Prompt Month Prompt 30: Immortal

"Bargain" by VortaBurnish: [1321 words / Angst] Dormammu takes Stephen Strange apart.

"Why Did You Save Me?" by kittyhazelnut: [1406 words / Canon Divergence] “I opened the Darkhold, and I have to be the one to close it.” “We can close it together.”

"With Every Query" by Webtrinstic: [1505 words / Hurt/Comfort] There are some questions that don't have answers. And there are some answers even the great Stephen Strange can't fully comprehend. Like why America cares about him.

"It's Their Fate" by atlalok143_arrowflash3: [1528 words / Hurt/Comfort] Dr. Strange is explaining to Peter the Macchina di Kadavus and how they need to send these multiverse Spider-Man villains home, no matter the consequences. And suddenly, Peter realizes that this isn't the first time Strange has sacrificed someone for the supposed greater good. Takes place during Spider-Man: No Way Home, an alternative and much needed conversation between Peter and Dr. Strange about Strange sacrificing Tony to defeat Thanos during Endgame.

"Harbringer of Doom" by Sinvulkt: [1664 words / Angst] One day, Stephen Strange is hit with a spell. It’s a strange one. At first, it doesn’t seem to do anything, he shrugs it off but remains vary. The next day, Stephen wakes up and immediately realises something is off, and not because of the chaos his room turned into. Somehow, he changed overnight. Looking into the mirror he sees…

"We'll Never Be Apart" by Webtrinsic: [1700 words / Hurt/Comfort] Stephen makes peace with the fact that America is essentially his kid. With that in mind, he promises to protect her with everything he's got.

"Aftermath" by ElenaCee: [1710 words / Fluff] Wong puts Stephen to bed.

"i'll kidnap all the stars (and i will keep them in your eyes)" by unusannus: [1721 words / Hurt/Comfort)] But as much as America was doing great at adjusting to this new life of hers, Strange knew she still had one obstacle to get through. Something kids her age needed no matter what. An education. (or: even super powered kids need to go to school)

"stolen sun at its heart" by basketcase_y: [2129 words / Canon Divergence] It was impossible to truly, completely, destroy the Infinity Stones without destroying the universe. Stark had understood this, in his last moments. He wasn’t lauded as a genius for nothing, after all. Strange did not understand, at first. He was thus unprepared for what came after.

"Phantom" by WinterAlice: [2181 words / Hurt/Comfort] Stephen learns Peter is being bullied at school. Since the official channels May and Tony have tried to take to deal with the issue have all failed he decides to try some of his own methods.

"Induction" by etienneofthewestwind: [2265 words / Canon Divergence] Stephen Strange’s mind whirled as he numbly went through the script to salvage as many lives as possible. He needed to try something new, something that the Time Stone had not shown him...

"A Flicker of Hope" by Trickstress: [2272 words / Angst] Stephen Strange never makes it to Kamar-Taj and finds himself alone on Christmas Eve with a box of matches.

"Blame on me (Shame on you)" by heartyhiroshi: [2294 words / Angst] Mordo appears weeks after the final battle and appeals to Stephen for help. He shows him the consequences of their actions, but Stephen should have known better to trust his former friend... Especially when he's at his worst, wallowing in guilt and doubt. (Silence is unnerving and unforgiving)

"A Day of Firsts" by NewSoul: [2754 words / Fluff] Since the Cloak of Levitation is the best character in the the film, I figured she should have a voice. I did make her a she because 1) sorry to disappoint but her relationship with Stephen in this fic is not meant to be taken in any romantic way (you will understand why when you see how she perceives him) and 2) I've got her in my head as this old Scottish mum that acts a bit like a cross between Molly Weasley and Maggie Smith. So without stealing her thunder anymore than I already have to, ladies and gents, The Cloak of Levitation!

"Band-Aids and Butterflies" by MaeBlossom: [2830 words / Angst] Glimpses into Stephen Strange's Life. From childhood, to Sorcerer Supreme.

"Except For You, You Can Stay" by Webtrinsic: [2914 words / Hurt/Comfort] Stephen confronts the being Nightmare and realizes America's presence in his life has brought forth a whole new set of fears for him to face.

"the Inherent Urge to Protect" by Ko_te: [2935 words / Hurt/Comfort] !!! Spoilers for Multiverse of Madness !!! Stephen Strange had a feeling about America Chavez. He couldn't place it.

"Third Time's The Charm" by Soulless_Robot: [3073 words / Canon Divergence] “Don’t make me repeat myself. Put the artifact down, you have no idea what you’re dealing with.” The man in the all white suit glances back at the jar in his hands and then up at him, “I can’t do that chap. Now, why don’t you forget you saw me, and I’ll slip out and we can all go back to having a nice quiet night. Doesn’t that sound lovely?” The man is backing away from him slowly and edging closer to the warehouse door and then he takes off in a full sprint. Stephen sighs, why did bad guys always do this? He was a master of the mystic arts with generations of magical expertise at his fingertips but somehow, they always think they can run. Or Stephen Strange was just trying to find an artifact that was causing jackal attacks across New York but somehow manages to get in way over his head.

"Time After Time" by TheObsidianSun12: [3155 words / Angst] In order to find the best way to defeat Thanos, Doctor Strange utilizes the time stone to place a curse on himself: whenever he dies, he will be sent back in time to the moment he cast the spell. He expected it to take five, maybe six attempts, to learn Thanos’s weaknesses and take him out before he could do irreparable harm to the universe. Suffice to say, fourteen million, six hundred and five universes later, he was wrong.

"Blank Space" rhodopsin: [3223 words / Hurt/Comfort] It’s funny, really. This very odd and yet very present feeling had accompanied him for a couple of days by now, and it had arisen on the day the multiverse had almost broken apart. Nothing indicated that something had gone terribly wrong on that day – the multiverse was saved, and Stephen had returned from the battle with only a couple of scratches. Nothing quite out of the ordinary, not really. So why did he constantly feel like he was missing something very important? Or: Stephen knows that he forgot something of great importance and he slowly starts to realize that it is the entire existence of Peter Parker.

"In Another Life" by Webtrinsic: [3294 words / Hurt/Comfort] America meets plenty of versions of Stephen Strange across the multiverse, but there is only one she calls dad.

"talk to me, tell me i am fine" by scvrus: [3629 words / Angst] When the Kamar-Taj got attacked by another multiversal being left from Wanda’s dream walking, America thought they’d put on a fight and it would be over, just like that. After all, the worst that could happen already happened and it was all in the past, right? But then she turned around and saw Stephen lay on the ground, his hand clutching a dark red spot on his abdomen. And so America screamed.

“Only Human After All” by jusst_you_wait: [3650 words / Found Family] Prompt: "Nobody's seen you in days" Peter shows up on Stephen's doorstep looking for help. Instead he gets a new parental figure.

"The Hands Dealt" by rhodopsin: [3726 words / Hurt/Comfort] “I, uh… I maybe got fired and I don’t really have enough money right now to pay the rent for my apartment this month, or next month for that matter, and I really don’t know where else to go, so I, uh...” Stephen paused. “You maybe got fired?” Or: Stephen Strange is the only one who remembers Peter Parker. So when Peter loses his job and can't afford his apartment anymore, he let's the kid live in the New York Sanctum for a while.

"Lost within 14,000,605 Timelines." by HazyErrors: [3765 words / Angst] When Stephen looked into possibilities of the future, he saw way more than he bargained for, He will not make the same mistake twice. {Read tags for your own safety!}

"When the World Ends" by ZenyZootSuit: [4140 words / Character Study] You say the ocean’s rising? Like I give a shit. You say the whole world’s ending? My friend, it already did. Or, the musings of Dr. Stephen Strange as he slowly comes to terms with his situation in the aftermath of...everything.

"between the heavens and the embers" by DarkKitty1208: [4161 words / Angst] With a mere stone in his grasp, Stephen Strange played God and stood between the choice of life and death.

"The Dust Settled Around Us" by Aelaer: [4174 words / Character Study] After America returned Christine Palmer of the alternate Earth to her home, Stephen Strange stepped foot again in Kamar-Taj for the first time since he had entered the multiverse. The smell of electricity and burnt metal assaulted his mind first, and his optical nerves caught up with what primal senses were screaming at him. After the main events of Doctor Strange in the Multiverse of Madness, Kamar-Taj begins to rebuild, and Stephen reflects upon everything that had happened. Featuring Conversations That Should Have Been In the Movie with America and Wong.

"Febuwhump Day 19: 'you deserve this'" by Yesimevil: [4517 words / Hurt/Comfort] Tony Stark was just one man—an irritating, arrogant, caring man, who didn’t deserve what the universe threw his way but still met it with grace. In the grand scheme of all things, his sacrifice would mean more than his survival. Still, Stephen internally raged against the future he had set in motion. ---- Stephen manages to save Tony Stark. There's only one problem--the Starks refuse to stop thanking him.

"Family is Forever" by UnicornOfTheSun: [4535 words / Found Family] For years, America didn't have a stable home. And then she fell headfirst into earth 616. Stephen Strange was never brave enough to admit he cared. And then America stumbled into his life. Or America and Stephen grow closer and learn to lean on each other.

"A Room of Our Own" by shyday: [4568 words / Hurt/Comfort] 'You can’t just come in my bedroom.' 'Then we remember things very differently,' he hears himself say.

"Febuwhump Day 6: secrets revealed" by Yesimevil: [4732 words / Hurt/Comfort] “I’m so sorry, sir!” a voice said. “Are you okay?” A hand was shoved in Stephen’s line of vision and he begrudgingly took it and hauled himself up, ready to give the stranger a piece of his mind. The words died in his mouth when he locked eyes with the kid. He was a scrawny thing, with a flannel that was a bit too big and eyes that were a bit too sad, and a bruise on his cheekbone that wasn’t quite faded. “It’s fine,” Stephen found himself saying instead as he dusted himself off. “Just watch where you’re going.” The younger man nodded. He almost looked like he was about to be sick. ---- After the events of No Way Home, Stephen keeps running into a kid with sad eyes who seems familiar... the only problem is he can't place where he's seen him before, which is almost as strange as the massive headaches the interactions leave him with.

"Fate Won't Compromise" by Aelear: [5011 words / Canon Divergence] In the summer of 1995, The Ancient One felt a ripple in the fabric of reality.

[demifiendrsa]

Official English translated author comments featured in Weekly Shonen Jump 2024 issue #3

Sakamoto Days chapter 148 - Yuto Suzuki

Kill Blue chapter 34 - Tadatoshi Fujimaki

Dr. Stone: 4D Science chapter 2 - Riichiro Inagaki and Boichi

Nue’s Exorcist chapter 31 - Kota Kawae

Kagurabachi chapter 14 - Takeru Hokazono

Blue Box chapter 130 - Kouji Miura

Jujutsu Kaisen chapter 245 - Gege Akutami

Akane-banashi chapter 91 - Yuki Suenaga

Undead Unluck chapter 188 - Yoshifumi Tozuka

Green Green Greens chapter 4 - Kento Terasaka

The Elusive Samurai chapter 138 - Yusei Matsui

Shadow Eliminators chapter 3 - Kento Amemiya

Witch Watch chapter 137 - Kenta Shinohara

Mission: Yozakura Family chapter 207 - Hitsuji Gondaira

Martial Master Asumi chapter 26 - Kawada

Me & Roboco chapter 166 - Shuhei Miyazaki

MamaYuyu chapter 15 - Yoshihiko Hayashi

Cipher Academy chapter 53 - Yuji Iwasaki

Two on Ice chapter 13 - Elck Itsumo

[whitechapelfile]

The Whitechapel File Chapter One

The morning had not been kind to Dr. John Watson. He had rushed to Baker Street upon hearing news of a murder.

At 2:15 a.m. on February 13, 1891, a man named Ernest Thompson discovered the body of Frances Coles, a 31-year-old prostitute, lying beneath a railway arch at Swallow Gardens in Whitechapel.

John Watson was a middle-sized, strongly built man with tanned skin, a square jaw, and a thick neck. His sandy blonde hair was neatly combed, and his mustache was well-groomed. He wore a black coat over a white button-up dress shirt, paired with a black vest, black trousers, and brown leather shoes.

As he approached 221B Baker Street, John had a feeling that his old friend, Sherlock Holmes, would be thrilled to be called in to investigate the latest crime of the Whitechapel Murderer.

Stepping into the sitting room, he was met with the usual mess. The red sofa was covered with boxes and scattered papers, as was Sherlock's cluttered desk. The stone fireplace held a fire that was slowly dying, casting long shadows across the dimly lit room.

Sherlock sat in his armchair, holding a note between his long, thin fingers. He was a tall, gaunt man, his extreme leanness making him seem even taller. His pale, eager face was framed by curly black hair, and his sharp, piercing gray eyes held a steady intensity. He wore a black tweed suit, slightly wrinkled from long hours of study.

"If they had stopped lollygagging, they would have caught this madman a year ago," Sherlock said, his voice laced with irritation as he set the letter down on the dark oak table beside him.

With a sigh, he rubbed his eyes.

John, sensing his weariness, watched him with concern. "You all right, old friend?" he asked.

Sherlock let out another sigh and continued to stare into the dying fire.

"Too much to do, too much to think about, my dear Watson."

Then, as if only now remembering, Sherlock turned to him. "And how is Mary Morstan?" he inquired. A flicker of warmth crossed Watson's face.

"She is well. In fact," he said, a hint of a smile forming, "she is with child."

Sherlock's sharp eyes studied Watson for a moment before he leaned forward, reaching for the letter. "Then let us ensure that this child is born into a world with one less murderer roaming its streets."