#i didn't change as much from the earlier wip as i thought i would but thats alright

[themintyone]

she took it all from me now I can't find my place do you remember me? do you remember my name? it could all be a dream it could all be a dream it could all be a dream

[jolalibrary]

undercover peña

javier peña x f!reader

as promised, here's a snippet (50 or so lines) from this writer wip poll game and undercover peña won! so, here we have it. it currently doesn't have a working title, but the premise is:

Javier, who has left the bureau and is now back in Texas wants a simple life. But, when Steve offers him a job to go undercover with a fellow DEA agent, posing as a married couple to gather information on a potential new player, he finds it difficult to refuse.

warnings: none, except my unedited writing.

All he has to do is pretend. Put on an act.

Wear something shiny on his left hand and—

“Try not to fuck her, Jav.”

He’s not surprised that Steve heads up a department in Miami—nor that he’s happy, content. A glow to his skin, he suspects, isn’t just from the sun, but knowing his wife is able to sleep and getting the chance to watch his daughter grow older.

Javier couldn’t relate—not that he’d admit that.

Picking up a ring, he rotates it between his thumb and finger as he snorts. “Wouldn’t be very husband-like of me, if I didn’t, would it?”

He’s nudged. An intentional elbow to the side makes him grin as he places the ring back into its velvety spot. Because none look right. None seem right—even for a fake thing.

“Fake husband. And don’t fuck this up.”

“I’m hearing a lot of don’ts and not a lot of do’s, Murphy. What the fuck is it you want me to do?”

He’s already been told, informed. Briefed.

Handed a file—everyone expects he won’t read—and given a rundown of what the operation is supposed to look like. But Javier knows better. Suspects, Murphy does too.

One thing Colombia has taught him is that plans don’t mean shit, not when you’re up against an ever-evolving problem.

Pinching the bridge of his nose, Murphy closes his eyes. The same noticeable twitch in his fingers and chewing inside his cheek that Javier can relate to: the sign of a recent quitter, and one attempting to use gum as a replacement.

“Where is she, anyway?” he asks, shifting the conversation.

Needing too.

Before he’d even got on the plane out here, the tension had been too much. Already beginning to fray him at the edges, as sleep began to be a distant friend. That had just been following the initial phone call.

It hadn't mattered that he thought he'd be okay, his body said otherwise. Remembering—it all coming back to him. The aches, the knot in his stomach. Then there was the way a space had begun to be carved inside of him, a place where a piece of his soul he suspects is meant to be, but was long lost when hunting Escobar.

All of it was made worse by the worried look on his Pop’s face.

“You managed longer than I thought, Javi.”

Even though he had known it wouldn't matter, he had still tried to explain. That this time he was doing his friend a favour, that it was a one-time thing—a few weeks, at most.

It didn’t shift the expression—didn’t stop the disappointed lines bleeding into worried ones, mixing with the ones caused by age. It didn't lessen the tightness in the air, because they were both at a standstill in the centre of a formerly (albeit temporary) happy home.

Sighing, Murphy drops his hand—beginning to gesture, somewhat wildly—likely about to tell him he wasn’t sure.

Javier had been told (on numerous occasions) that you were good, brilliant, the only one he’d trust.

He’d been about to begin unpicking those earlier statements when the door opened, red blouse and black tailored trousers clicking their heels towards him.

It wasn't anything cliché. Time doesn't stop—the room doesn't silence. But something happens. Something shifts, changes—alters.

Because usually, a woman's figure is what he will admire first, but he finds that it's your eyes that he meets first.

And fuck do they cut into him. Practically reach towards him, before they go through him, digging into flesh and fucking bone.

Then, ceasefire, a chance to strengthen his facade as you turn to greet Murphy. But, he swears he can still see them behind his lids. Something which makes his jaw tighten, teeth grind—

“You must be my husband,” you say commandingly. Body turning to him, hand sticking out towards him—adding your name to the statement as though stamping it into the air. “Agent Murphy has told me a lot about you.”

an: dedicated to @psychedelic-ink who is lovely and wonderful, and seemed as excited about this as me.

[blood-grove]

unnatural bleeding

merfolk au!

previous <- part 5 -> WIP

parings: gaz x reader

chars: gaz, price , soap , ghost

tws: blood, injuries, violence, past abuse, language, slow burn.

a/n: hehehhehehe finally new update :3 got rid of the rude reader tw cuz reader is gonna be annoyed at the world at best angry at worst plus i dont think ive been writing them rudely so also forgive me if the writing pov changes weirdly idk i have a hard time staying focused and consistent ill try better

tags; @chickennn-soupp @cassiecasluciluce @sans-chara @lethargicluv  @kaoyamamegami

What the hell was this place.

It seems all they did was stare at you and when you would clearly get sick of the mumbles and looks you'd splash them and they'd fucking laugh.

They were weird and the Gaz guy was weirder.

You found later his name was actually Kyle and he meant to clarify earlier.

But you found the silly nickname funny.

But this wasn't fun.

Being propped up on a large mat next to the side of the pool the leather felt uncomfortable under you, You also felt way too exposed as a few humans looked over your stitches and wrappings.

It felt weird there hands weren't rough but no one besides a few have touched you like this they were talking about something you'd care less to pay attention too.

As they examined you, Gaz kept trying to pull your attention away from the other humans.

Oh?

Was he jealous?.

Humans are so fickle it's funny.

-

Christ.

Even working with merfolk in the past Gaz still never got used to the bigger ones like you.

Scarface as you've been suitably nicknamed for the moment been alright and cooperative so far no biting or thrashing.

He'd likely guess the wounds were causing you to be so irritable they didn't look good when they first arrived problem had a couple of parasites on them along with other infections that are still being treated.

Price was observing the whole check up process.

You didn't speak much at least not to any of the other staff.

There were a few problems though.

Firstly they found you solo but there was still likely you belonged to a pod but which is the question.

Secondly, they couldn't keep you in the medical pool forever you were wild to some extent it would be cruel to keep you from you family.

Thirdly during your surgery, they'd found a piece of metal that didn't look important it was kept to be looked over in case it helped discover why you were in such a state, Price already guessed territorial fighting but you clearly (no offense) couldn't pick your battles.

Some of these scars and bites could have been lethal.

He was pulled out of his thoughts as you shifted clicking in annoyance he was quick to reach over for another fish from the bucket nearby by offering it up in an attempt to distract you.

"Are all humans this pokey?"

"No Scarface we just..need to make sure your healing okay..Then we can release you."

Kyle huffed as he gave you an honest smile ignoring the glare and grumble he received in return, You still took the fish though idly crunching on it.

They eventually finished the examination without much fuss except for you not so subtly tripping the newest volunteer who honestly should have been starting off with a much smaller mer than you.

But you start off somewhere.

Speaking of which it's about lunch time for them now and his break time, Kyle oversaw you getting back into the pool without much struggle before he left your area visiting by Price to mention he was going on his break before grabbing his lunch and heading to the docks.

He'd usually not have to wait long before they'd show but it'd seemed they were late.

It wasn't long till a familiar face popped up flashing teeth and all.

"Hey, Soap!" Kyle grinned as he looked to see the shark mer propping up his elbows onto the dock.

"Ghost comin'..?"

"Ah in a bit he's still getting his bearings.."

Now he was confused the last time he'd seen the pair and given them there updated shots and tags they'd been great.

The pair were unusual a Shark and Orca together seemed unheard of but yet just a few years ago now when Kyle had fallen overboard during an solo observation trip Ghost saved him from drowning.

Both of them were odd in a good way, Simon having been outcasted by his pod but he doesn't like to talk about it.

He had lots of scars all telling of countless battles of either for his territory or from just fights.

As for Soap, Sharks were solitary regardless but Soap had his own set of scars from fights some he shouldn't have tried starting.

"Bearings? What happended?.."

"Another fuckin' Orca smaller not as experienced grabbed me a few days back, Si really fucked em' up till the bastard clocked him on the head with there tail-"

Wait.

"Jesus , Where is he? I can get a team out and-"

"Ah ye know how he feels about humans..Plus he seemed to be swimming straight.."

"But Soap , He could have a concussion or maybe a facture-"

Soap sighed as he glanced back to the water before back at Kyle.

"Look..You can try convincing em'"

Soap frowned as Simon finally surfaced propping himself up onto the dock as well the wood creaking slightly under the weight of just Simons upper half.

"Ghost"

"Kyle."

Kyle huffed as he didnt even need to say anything as he went up to him giving him a look before he huffed grumbling quietly adjusting himself better so that Kyle could assess him.

Taking his time looking over the newer injuries they had healed well enough fishing out his little hand held flash light from his keychain in his pocket he checked Ghost's eyes.

After a bit of checking Kyle felt satisfied ignoring Ghost annoyed clicks.

"Mm..Now Soap you said it was another Orca right..? Did it come back?"

"Nah..Fucker swam off after bashing Ghost head..Pretty sure I could smell em' bleeding though for a bit till they got too far."

Right this was looking to be way too convenient and fitting to not match up with good ol' Scarface's condition.

"Mm..Alright..Anyway I brought some-"

"Treats?!" Before Kyle could even move his lunchbox away Soap had snatched it and Kyle let out a exasperated sigh not even fighting for it risk of being pulled into the water.

"Jesus Soap my lunch is still in there be careful- And dont eat the plastic!"

[moonlight-prose]

wip wednesday!

thank you for the tags my darlings @guiltyasdave @ovaryacted @sceletaflores. it's no longer wednesday but i didn't do any writing yesterday so today is better. this is a short piece of my upcoming marcus acacius series i'm hammering away at.

Echoes of Eternity

“Through studying the artistic nature of the statue and it’s material we’ll be able to discern who the man might have been and who could have been tasked with creating it.”

The final click of your key brought the presentation to an end—silence enveloping the lecture hall as you set the notes back beside your laptop. Pages of research all dedicated to this one particular piece. To the statue that would change your future. People clapped softly at your thought out argument, others gathered their things to rush out before the crowd leaving campus grew to its familiar standstill.

“Brilliant!”

You grinned, turning to catch the dean Cassandra on your way out the side entrance, your notes clutched in a haphazard notebook pressed to your chest. “Thank you for letting me do this.”

“Better you than the man my colleague chose. I find your piece much more fascinating than the history of the Roman Catholic Church. Again.”

Summer’s heat filled the air with a thickness you felt drag down the back of your neck. The dewy sweat from earlier sticking to your skin the longer you stood out in the sun as it beat down on stone. You could see students rushing to make their classes, professors roaming the grounds animatedly talking about one thing or another. But the statue located in the very back, hidden away from the rest of the world caught your attention the most.

Cassandra followed your line of sight, a grin curving along pink painted lips. “Do you really think you’ll be able to uncover who he was?”

The once darkened hue of the stone slowly began to fade the longer it stood against the test of time. He looked out onto the world with eyes of steel. Laurels placed around a head of what you assumed were curls—brown if you had to guess considering the history. Though the clothes were of a soldier’s garments—armor carved into the breastplate—the paludamentum is what stood out the most.

Whoever this man was one thing remained certain in your years of study. He was crowned as a general of Rome. A man of superior strength and honor that stood amidst legions of warriors. Even his stance reminded you of the stories you’d heard growing up. Of gods and goddess alike—each with their own power over the people who once lived here.

For almost a year you had studied his face, sketching the outline of this statue in notebooks and along the margins of texts. You took every piece of knowledge acquired and attempted to unmask the man who was forced to live throughout eternity without a name.

The forgotten soldier lost to the depths of time itself.

“I hope so,” you mumbled, staring up the shield propped at his side, a sword attached to his hip. “There’s a possibility we’ve been looking at the wrong era.”

“The wrong era?”

“Most believe he came from the time of Commodus. But what if he’s from a time later than that?”

She shrugged. “It’s possible. Although I wouldn’t put it past the cruelty of Commodus to commission a statue and rip away the history of it.”

With a sigh, you turned back to the long stretch of land before you lined in ancient stones, the building for your apartment fifteen minutes away. “Commodus was cruel, but what would be the point of dishonoring another soldier after what happened with the gladiator?”

“Oh yes of course.” She rushed to keep the pace of your quick steps. “The general turned gladiator. The tragedy of Maximus. Didn’t his son turn out to be that emperor?”

You fished the keys out of the bottom of your bag. “The grandson of Marcus Aurelius.”

“Yeah that one.”

“What about him?”

“Well…try his portion of history.” You stopped at the door, watching as she turned to leave for her own home. “Maybe your mystery soldier is from the era of Lucius.”

Lucius…

tagging the lovelies: @cavillscurls @ozarkthedog @elflutter @eupheme @joelsdagger @stargirlfics

[m4delin]

WIP - Nothing more than codes and digits (let's add to it)

Since it's new years eve, I want to share what was supposed to be my third title for the Treebark Title Swap 2024, but I ran out of time for finishing it and since then it's been sitting in my WIP document. It's my own title I stole so I didn't feel bad for not finishing it.

I aim to actually finish it, but wanted to share what I got so far since I do like what I've written. Just don't mind all the notes in the brackets, you're getting everything here xD

Words: 6.7k Characters: Ren, Martyn, Doc, Tango Tags: datastream defender lore, C.H.E.S.T is evil, it's taking place in the future (at minimum 80 years after pirates smp ended), androids, memorials, brief mention of assissted suicide, pre-relationship treebark, spring is martyn, despite what martyn believes it is the real world, very much utopia

Summary: Having been one of the earliest people "rescued" from the datastream, Ren has helped a lot of people to get used to their new bodies and the new sociaty. Some has trusted him more, some has trusted him less, and Ren can't fault anyone for that.

Spring is proving to be the most distrustful person Ren has met yet.

A whistle from the kettle echoes through the apartment, and it brings Ren out of the drowsiness that always clings to him when he starts up for the day, just enough for him to yawn and stretch before detangling himself from the blanket.

It’s a slow start, really, it takes a good 15 minutes before Ren is finally on his feet, body awake enough to not move in slow motion.

He probably should ask Doc to take a look at him, it’s been a while since the last check up.

He files the thought to his to-do-later list, and instead focuses on his normal morning routine. Remove the still whistling kettle from the stove, take out a couple of bags of nutrients for his plants and mix it with the still hot but cooling water, throw the binder and tablet into his work bag, ignore any paper that doesn’t stick to the binder, and walk around to water the plants with the now cool mixture.

A small orb appears in the corner of Ren’s eyes, and as he looks at it, it turns into a small holographic image of Xisuma, but instead of his voice coming through, it’s a generic robotic voice that reads up the message.

“I’ll be running late, can you drop by the coffee shop on your way in? Thanks.”

Ren chuckles, and shakes his head at the message.

“Reply,” he says and the holograph changes into himself with a speech bubble beside it. “Sure thing, dude, I’ll get the usual. Don’t fall asleep on the bus again. End reply.”

He watches as the speech bubble gets folded into a letter before disappearing together with the holograph. No matter how many years have passed, he still finds it fascinating to watch the small avatars come and go.

Shaking his head, Ren focuses back on his task. He waters the final plant and hurries back to his bedroom to get properly dressed, since he’ll not only take a detour, but also open the museum apparently, he needed to get a move on.

He’s still buttoning up his shirt as he walks out of the apartment, work bag hanging over his shoulder, and the door locks behind him with a soft click.

[small transition for traveling? ]

The coffee shop is busy when Ren arrives, and he flicks an ear backwards in annoyance. Of course he succeeds in hitting rush hour for the morning travelers. Not that he has much of a choice, he realizes, with Xisuma being so late with his request. Normally the director would know way earlier if he was about to run late, but Ren guesses that today must’ve been an emergency. Or he had stayed up way too late again and slept in.

As Ren joins the queue, he decides that that’s what happened.

Surprisingly the line goes by fast and it doesn’t take long until the cashier is looking at Ren expectantly.

“One Cream Coffee and one Radiator to go, please,” he says as he lifts up his wrist, a small section of it lightning up. The cashier hums as they tap on the screen in front of them before lifting the other hand, holding a small square thing above Ren’s wrist. It beeps once and the cashier brings back the device.

“5 minutes,” they say, and waves Ren to move out of the queue. Ren does as instructed and watches the people move around him as he’s waiting for the drinks. [description of humans and androids? Ren receives the drinks, one blue, mentions of him passing breakfast at home?]

The walk from the coffee shop to the museum isn’t a long one, the perks of working in the city center, but it’s long enough for Ren to feel like he properly got to stretch his legs out and having sipped enough of his drink for a third to be gone.

It’s later than it’s supposed to be when Ren finally reaches the employer door to the museum, a showing of his wrists makes the door beep and open, letting him inside.

The building is silent at this time in the morning, even with Ren’s enhanced hearing. Or it usually is, but now one of his ears twist as he hears a high pitched sound from a light somewhere close by, no doubt about to go out during the day. Which he would have to replace.

Ren sighs heavily, and heads towards Xisuma’s office to drop off his coffee in the heat preserving container, before he goes to his own while downing his the rest of his drink.

The door to his office unlocks when he puts his hand on the handle, and opens without a complaint, and Ren is greeted by the sight of papers covering the floor.

Right. The research. He’d forgotten about that, honestly.

Luckily it’s only printouts of different texts that he was trying to decipher, so he’s not exactly careful as he walks over to his desk to put down his back and the now empty cup. He would start cleaning the room up normally, but since Xisuma was running late, and it would just be the two of them today, so not only did he have to change that light bulb, but also prepare the museum to be opened.

Ren isn’t sure if he’s happy or not that he can’t get headaches anymore.

He ignores the chaos that is his office, even adding a little bit more to the pile on the floor by pushing down a couple of more papers from the desk, and heads back out to start preparing the building.

He’s barely closed the door behind him when the small white orb appears in the corner of his eyes again, this time shifting into a goat when he gives it his attention. Instead of it starting to read up a message, the robotic voice let him know it’s an incoming call.

“Answer,” Ren says, and the goat shifts into the upper half of Doc.

“Good morning, Ren,” Doc says, one hand raised in a greeting.

Ren gives him a big smile. “Doc, my dude! Was thinking of you this morning! My body seems slower than usual in the mornings, think you can take a look?” He continues on his way towards the ground keeper’s office, Doc’s hologram floating beside him.

Doc blinks, and looks down into something in his hands. “Perhaps next month then. Been a couple of years since your last check up.” Then he shakes his head. “But that’s not why I called. Can you come by the lab next monday?”

It makes Ren pause in his step, and he looks properly at Doc again. “Have you found-”

“Yes,” Doc cuts him off, “another prisoner. Tango and I are setting up a body for them, and it should be done by the weekend, but I know you like to have your weekends off.”

Ren continues his path to the ground keeper’s office, but with quicker steps than before. “I want to be there when you wake them up, you know this, dude. Got any name on them?”

“No.”

The heavy sigh that accompanies the words makes Ren’s artificial heart sink as he steps into his destination. “Oh.”

“The disk was named though.” And… That’s unusual.

Ren pushes the buttons in the office to activate the cleaning robots, and doesn’t pay enough attention to the screens to see if they’ve been turned on properly. “That makes it sound like it’s not numbered,” he says as he steps out of the room, and continues down the hallway.

“It was titled Spring. Does it ring a bell?” Doc asks, and Ren wishes that it did.

“Hasn’t Tango looked through the police reports on the whole ordeal?”

“He has, and found nothing. But you’re the history expert on C.H.E.S.T, so figured it was worth asking,” Doc says, waving a clipboard around.

Ren frowns, and his ears lay down flat against his skull, and gets behind the front desk. “I’m sorry to disappoint, but I’ve never heard of something called Spring before. I’ll make a deep dive though, see if I can find anything.”

“Appreciated, Ren. I’ll send a message when it’s decided on when we’ll wake them up. Bye,” Doc says, and Ren says his own goodbye before the hologram of Doc turns into a white dot again.

Well. At least now Ren knows what he will spend his free time on til monday arrives.

With thoughts focused on the upcoming research, Ren hurries through the preparation of the museum’s opening for the day.

-----

[small scene that transition into the lab]

It’s easy to find the room where Doc and Tango would wake the prisoner[another name?] up, Ren has been here plenty of times already, and Ren clutches his bag closer to him. [add that he’s carrying a bag of drinks with him]

He’s honestly excited, it’s been a few years since they last discovered a disk that wasn’t broken.

Ren pushes the door leading to the viewing room open, and pauses as he only sees Tango in the room, sitting in front of the big window, and looking through it.

Tango glances away from the window, and smiles when Ren meets his eyes. “Ren! Good to see you, come on in!”

Ren makes sure to close the door behind him, glancing through the window. It’s a view of a spacious room, a wardrobe in one corner, a tv on the wall next to it, and on the opposite is a bed with a table beside it. A bed currently occupied by a generic looking android body that shouldn’t be up and moving, but obviously is. Beside the bed is Doc sitting with a tablet in his hands.

“I thought you would wait to wake them up until I arrived,” Ren says with a pout, ears pressed down against his skull.

Tango shrugs. “We planned to, but when we were preparing the body and inserted the disk, they woke themselves up,” he says, and looks back to the scene in front of them.

The android body is holding a tablet of their own, their head tilted slightly as they’re listening to what Doc is saying.

“That’s unusual. How many years has it been since that happened?” Ren asks as he opens up the paperbag with the drinks. He takes the smallest one out, and hands it to Tango.

Tango takes it, pops out the straw, and takes a sip. “Not in the years I’ve been working here. I think it has happened three times now in total?”

“Four,” Ren corrects as he digs out a larger drink, and puts it on the table behind Tango. “I mean, if you’re counting this dude too.” After digging out a small package of milk and making sure there’s only two drinks left in the bag, Ren returns to Tango’s side.

Tango snorts. “Why are you asking me if you remember that?”

“Years tend to float together after a while, the amount of times it happens are easier to remember,” Ren says with a shrug, before looking towards the second door on the other side of the room. “I’ll head down, and save the poor fella from Doc’s technical ramblings,” he says as he moves towards the door.

Tango giggles behind him. “Sure, old man. Remember to ask Doc for an upgrade in your cache at the next check up!” he shouts behind Ren. Ren just shakes his head as he goes through the door, and down the stairs.

Doc’s voice comes through the moment Ren opens up the door downstairs.

“-o problem at all- oh. Hello, Ren,” Doc says as Ren walks into the room, putting the tablet down into his lap. The android turns their head with slightly narrowed eyes, and Ren gives them both his best smile.

“Hi, dudes! Everything good?” he says as he walks up to the bed. The android is still looking wary, but Ren looks at Doc as Doc nods.

“I’ve given him the rundown of his new body, including a tablet for customization requests that’s not the generic type,” he says, and taps a [tablet pen?] against his own tablet. “Now I need to check more how his fine motor control is working, to make sure everything is in order, and then I need to-”

Ren chuckles. “I’m gonna stop you right there, bud, but one step at a time, yeah? We don’t need to overload his brain right at this moment,” he says as he pats Doc on the shoulder, and gives the android another smile.

“That… would be appreciated,” the android says as he looks between the two.

“With that approval-” Ren begins as he grins at Doc, “-I’m sending you off to the break room. I’ve brought a chocolate[other drink?] to you, it’s up with Tango in the room.”

Doc nods, and gives Ren a smile. “Thank you. I’ll be back later, whenever you’re ready to learn more about how your body functions,” Doc says, and with that he raises up from the chair, and walks through the door Ren had arrived from.

Ren puts all his focus on the patient, and gives him a smile. “Apologies for just switching like this, but Doc tends to get into the technical stuff immediately, and most people find it overwhelming,” he says, and fishes up a third, blue drink from the paper bag as he walks closer to the android.

The android looks between Ren and the drink he’s holding out.

“It’s a drink called ‘Radiator’. It’s a fluid that people like you and me need to have a functioning body, and this one is made into a drink so we can mimic drinking. It’s calming for some people,” Ren explains, and watches as the android slowly takes it into his hands.

Ren gives him a smile when he does take it before he walks over to the chair Doc left, and digs out the fourth and final drink out of the paperbag. He discards the bag beside the chair, and hangs his work bag over the backrest before sitting down.

The patient is looking hesitant at the drink, and Ren knows how weird it is in the beginning, so he takes a gulp out of his own Radiator.

“You said people like us?” the android asks when Ren lowers his drink, and is now obviously glancing at Ren’s ears.

“Yep! People stuffed into an android body,” Ren says, and taps one of his ears, it flicking out of range at the touch, since it has the android’s attention. “These babies are custom made. Had human ears for a good amount of years, until Doc figured out a way to customize bodies without risking us shutting down. Real genius that man!”

The android frowns, and looks down at his drink in his lap.

“Had a tail for a while too, but let me tell you, not worth it! Not only do you have to make custom clothes, especially pants, but they wear[?] out too fast. As good as I am at repairing them myself, there’s only so many times a man has patient to repair his own pants per month,” Ren continues, chuckling at the memory. Yeah, he had to repair way too many pants.

The room falls into silence, just for a moment, as Ren looks at the android and the android is still looking at his drink. The tablet the android had been messing around with earlier is laying in his lap.

“This is a lot, I know,” Ren says with a soft voice, and the android glances up. “If you have any questions, go ahead. Kinda why I’m here, being the social dude so Doc and Tango can focus on making sure your body is functioning correctly.”

The android seems to think for a moment before he lifts up his head properly.

“The doctor said your name was Ren?”

Ren slams a hand on his forehead, and an ear flicks in annoyance. “Introduction is a thing, yes,” he says as he lets the hand fall back down into his lap, properly gripping his drink again. He gives the android a smile.

“Yeah, name’s Ren, he/him, I’m an ex-employee of C.H.E.S.T-”

The difference between normal androids and people with an android body is really fascinating if you ask Ren. Androids often just mimic expressions that humans make in certain situations, while the people have the mini[miniture? miniluscus?] expression change that androids seem incapable to mimic, despite having the same built body. And this is a perfect example of it.

Because the reaction is instantaneous.

Deep rooted fear flashes across the android’s face, as well as his body going rigid, but it’s there barely a second before the android’s face is neutral once again, although his back is much straighter than before.

It tells Ren that this person has dealt with C.H.E.S.T before.[not happy with this line, find alternatives]

Ren clears his throat, and pretends that he didn’t see it. “-I worked in the public and civilian sector, but when I started to investigate the disappearance of some of my colleagues, I ended up as one of their victims as well. They stuffed me into a digital disk, and stayed there until I got woken up by Doc. Don’t remember much of the time I spent being digital that way. Today I work for the Hermit Museum, working on preserving the memories of all of C.H.E.S.T’s victims, giving them a memorial for those we haven’t been able to find and give a new chance on life, as well as making sure that all of C.H.E.S.T’s crimes is known to the world.”

The android seems to still be on guard, and Ren doesn’t blame him. So Ren takes a sip of his drink before giving the android his best smile.

“Before I ask you your name, or any question for that matter, know that you don’t have to answer them. As much as I would love to know who you are, you’re entitled to keep any information to yourself,” he says in hopes to make the man relax just a little bit at least.

The man nods, and makes no attempt to introduce himself.

The next smile Ren gives him is softer. “Is there something I can call you the very least? Can’t call you dude or android the whole time.”

Again, the man doesn’t attempt to speak.

Ren’s shoulders slump forward a bit as his ears twist backwards. “Okay then. I’ll call you Spring until you’ve given me something else to call you,” he says, and watches how the man reacts to the name. There’s no more reaction other than him watching Ren cautiously.

“So. That’s me. Any questions?”

Spring is silent, his mouth in a thigh line, and then-

“I want to be alone.”

Ren sighs, and leans back in the chair, almost tipping it over. “Sorry dude, no can do. Until Doc and Tango have made sure your body is functioning well, and you need an identification number in order to be able to move around in society without getting, like, arrested, you need to have someone with you.”

Spring frowns at that, and stares into his lap again, drink still not touched and tablet seemingly forgotten.

And Ren knows that this feels invasive, especially when you don’t trust the ones who're supposed to look after you. But it’s a rule put in place for a very good reason.

“But,” Ren continues after a little bit of silence, “I can leave the room.”

Spring looks up, confusion written all over his face.

Ren gestures towards the window close to the ceiling, and Spring follows his hand until he sees it. And goes stiff again as he sees Tango and Doc sitting by the window, not looking into it but having their backs to it, seemingly having a conversation between the two of them.

“This room has no cameras, no microphones, no motion detectors. It’s completely soundproof. The only thing that can monitor you is if someone sits behind that glass, and we will until we’re sure your body won’t suddenly break down on you.”

Spring looks back to Ren, and Ren tries to give him a reassuring smile, but it probably ends up looking more sad than anything.

“We won’t keep this strict watch for long, tops two weeks if your body is having troubles. And after you’ve gotten your identification number, you’re free to go wherever. But we want to help you, we really do. We can get you in touch with a therapist, arrange for you to have an apartment, help you get a stable life. Just-” Ren takes a deep breath, hands clenching around his own forgotten drink, “-let us know if you don’t want life anymore. We- no, I- want to bury you in that case. You deserve a funeral, however you want it. You, and your story, deserve to be remembered.”

As excited Ren always is to meet someone new, this is the hardest part of helping them into this modern world.[?]

Offer them a chance to actually die, not simply being suspended in an empty dataspace.

It’s still better than finding out that they ended it by themselves.

Spring is giving Ren a strange look, and to be fair, it is strange to offer to bury someone. Ren doesn’t blame him for it.

“I-” Spring starts, but cuts off himself. He shakes his head and Ren tilts his head to the side, watching as Spring comes to a conclusion.

“I would like to be alone,” Spring repeats, and Ren nods. Without much further aboe[?], Ren gets up from his chair, pulling his work bag over his shoulder with his free hand, and walks over to the door.

But there he pauses, and looks over his shoulder at Spring.

“By the way. Doc and Tango has never been associated with C.H.E.S.T, neither of them was even born when that organization got busted. Even if you don’t trust me, you can trust them.” With that, Ren leaves the room.

“You good?” Tango asks when Ren gets up into the viewing room, and all Ren can do is to let out a deep sigh.

“He got real bad trauma with C.H.E.S.T,” Ren says as he sits down by a chair furthest from the window. While he can’t leave, he will at least try to respect Spring’s privacy when Doc and Tango aren't there to keep watch.

Doc hums, and both he and Tango look through the window. “Isn’t surprising. We’ll take it slow then, try to give him as much privacy as we can,” Doc says as he tips his cup back, and then frowns as he removes it from his face. “Empty,” he grumbles, and places it on the floor.

“I’ll try to get his identification number as soon as possible, should get it at the end of the week if I pull the right strings,” Tango says with a nod.

Ren tunes out his two friends as they talk and plan how to go forward this coming week.

Seems like honesty straight out of the bag wasn’t the way to go this time. But then again, it’s hard to know what to do when you don’t know who will be waking up.

With another sigh, Ren takes a big gulp of his own drink. He’ll just keep watch from a distance then, and help Doc and Tango out whenever they need. It’s not the first time they had to work like this, nor will it be the last.

But he does wish that he would be able to help Spring better than this.

---

A week and a half. That’s what it takes until everything starts to fall into place.

It takes about a week for Doc to calibrate Spring’s body to not stumble when he moves too fast, and to give Spring a general look[?]. And then they just had to wait for the identification number, which Tango pushed hard for.

Ren had visited and invited Spring out for walks whenever Doc and Tango had allowed it, and he had pretended not to see when Spring was looking around and taking in their surroundings in more than just fascination with the scenery. These walks always felt a bit bittersweet to Ren, since Spring never seemed to relax during it, nor afterwards. In all honesty, it probably had to do with Ren himself, which he doesn’t blame Spring for.

But hopefully today would be different.

Ren runs a hand through his hair, and sighs heavily. The plan for today was to take Spring to the museum, both to show him how to use public transportation and how to navigate around the money system. He hopes everything goes well.

Steeling his nerves, Ren pushes open the door to Spring’s room, and smiles at the man when he looks up.

Unlike the first time Ren saw Spring, Spring now looked like an actual human. Instead of looking like a generic android, he now had blond hair pulled into a small ponytail, blue eyes and pale skin, with a hoodie over his torso and jeans on his legs.

“Hey there, Spring!” Ren says as he walks closer to the bed where Spring is sitting, fiddling with a book. Ren gives him a smile, but per usual Spring stays silent and warily watches Ren.

“I have good news for you. Your identification number should arrive very shortly, and thus we shall venture out further than the gardens today!”

Spring raises an eyebrow. “What?”

Ren grins, and pets his shoulder bag. “We’re heading to the museum today! You need to know how to transfer money as you soon will be released from here, and it’s easier if I just show you. And it will be nice to be outside this place, yes?”

That catches Spring’s attention, and he puts down the book on the nightstand. “So… we’re going to the museum so you can show me how to pay?”

“And to show you how society works [fix this?]

Ren glances over his shoulder at Spring, who was looking everywhere but at Ren. There’s a lot to see, considering that this is the first time they’ve been so far away from the facility, so Ren is just happy that Spring is still following him and not trying to bolt the moment he could like Ren thought he would.

There’s so much Ren wants to ask the man, but he bites his tongue as he focuses his eyes forward on the street ahead of them.

Or rather, the opening of the buildings and the street which gives space to a big open area with a lot of different statues lingering about.

“The museum is just ahead,” Ren says with a grin as he speeds up just a bit. As much as he loves helping people out, he has missed the museum and working on his own projects. But he’ll get back to them soon enough, Spring just needed his identification number after all before getting released.

“That’s. A lot of statues,” Spring says, and Ren slows down to walk beside Spring instead of ahead of him. It earns Ren a sideways glance.

“Eyup! The classic ones are on the left,” Ren says as he motions in front of them. “Not easy to see from this angle, I realize. Come on, we’ll see them better when we get on the main path!” Without thinking, Ren grabs Spring’s arm in excitement to drag him with him, but stops when Spring pulls back his arm just as quickly as Ren had grabbed it.

Ren looks back at Spring who’s staring at him with a blank look, arm held close.

“Oh, uh. Sorry, I forgot myself,” Ren says, ears pressed flat backwards in embarrassment.

Spring moves his eyes from Ren to look at something behind Ren, face just as blank as before. “You’re excited for the museum?” He asks, voice carefully [blank? other word]

Ren nods, and motions towards the statue garden in an invitation to start walking again. “Yes,” he begins as Spring starts moving, and he joins Spring, “how can I not be? It’s a great workplace, I have wonderful colleagues and it gives me the best chance to just learn about history! I always love showing off what we have.”

There’s a moment of silence before Spring speaks again. “I thought you worked at the facility?” [check when ren introduces himself]

“Not really,” Ren hums, steering the two of them towards the street that runs in the middle of the statue garden. As they get closer, it becomes more obvious that there are two different sections of statues.

“I mean, I help Doc and Tango out with like. Social stuff like this. Helping people get back into society. But that doesn’t exactly happen enough to be an actual job.” Ren shakes his head. “I’m a [curator?] and researcher at [hermit museum?]. If you want we can go past my exhibition, but honestly, that might not be a good idea.”

Spring glances at Ren before looking in front of them, the two finally entering the main street leading to the museum, statues on both sides of them.

“How come?”

“[I research the damage C.H.E.S.T has done to society and its victims,” Ren says, not reminding Spring that he had already told him this when he introduced himself.]

Spring stays silent, and Ren lest him digest what he just told him, before clearing his throat, and motioning to the left.

“But, yes, the classics! They are just copies of the originals of course, but it’s nice to have something more physical to look at as the guide books tell you about them, rather than a hologram,” Ren says with a grin, and it seems to snap Spring out of his head.

Then Ren motions towards the right. “And that’s modern art. Statues. Eh, yeah, not really my department, but if we bump into Xisuma[? check how many i wrote works here] he will happily tell you all about it. There’s more modern art inside, and more history stuff too.”

Spring nods, but stays silent until they reach the doors of the museum which has been propped open to let the cool summer winds into the building.

Ren waves at the android sitting at the reception desk, who only tilt its head in acknowledgement to his presence, but it gives Spring a smile when it notices him.

“Hi, and welcome to [hermit museum]. Would you like a map, or a recommendation on where to go?” It says, voice a tad flat.

“Oh great, need to tell [groundkeeper] that they need to fix up Lucy’s voice again,” Ren says with a sigh before turning to Spring who has stopped by the desk, hand stretched out for the map that he was offered.

“You don’t need the map if you don’t want it,” Ren says as Spring grabs it, before shrugging when Spring gives him a raised eyebrow. “Again, I work here, I know this museum almost better than Xisuma, and he’s the owner of the place.”

“I think I’ll take it anyway,” Spring mumbles, and tucks it into his hoodie.

“Alright,” Ren says, one ear flicking backwards before turning back. “So, where do you want to start? It’s a big place, and I’ll show you how to interact and activate the holograms, though I’m sure Tango has already given you that lesson.”

Ren smiles as Spring looks at him, and waits patiently as Spring brings out the map to look at instead of asking Ren what places there are.

“Uh. What about here?” Spring says as he points at his map, and Ren leans over to take a look at it.

“Ah,” Ren says with a grin, “the [department]. That’ll be fun. Now! On our way!” This time he refrains from grabbing Spring, and Spring follows after a brief moment just looking at Ren. Again, Ren is very excited.

Two hours goes by, in which more visitors arrived, but it was still a far cry from being crowded. Spring had been looking at some of the holograms, but nothing had really captured his interest for long, so Ren had continued to guide him through the building in hopes that Spring would find something.

Ren is walking backwards, facing Spring, as he talks about [ämne], having entered  his guide mode.

He doesn’t keep track of where Spring’s eyes wander, so when Spring suddenly stops and fixates his gaze in one spot, it takes a moment for Ren to remember where in the building they are.

Ren slows to a stop, and glances towards the big, open archway which reveals some big plaques[?] with a lot of text and pictures on them.

The C.H.E.S.T exhibition.

Ren looks back at Spring who has not looked away from the archway, obviously having seen one of the plaques that has the words C.H.E.S.T on it.

“You want to go and take a look?” Ren says with a soft voice, and to his surprise, Spring nods and doesn’t wait for Ren to move, instead taking the lead properly for the first time this day. Ren follows and stays silent as Spring slowly walks into the exhibition, head constantly turning as if he’s trying to take in everything at once.

Spring stops at the closet plaque, and Ren slides up beside him.

“This part is mostly information about C.H.E.S.T. About who they were, their public front and shadow business, how they were able to trick the public, how it got discovered and its downfall,” Ren says, eyes staring at the C.H.E.S.T logo. Spring glances at him.

“Despite that it’s been [50 years?], there’s a lot we don’t know about this organization. I’m the main researcher on it around here, as the police stopped investigating some years ago, and other people who are researching this are doing so in other countries.” Ren cast his eyes down to the floor, trying to sort his thoughts. He doesn’t want to overwhelm Spring with all of this.

Spring turns his head around, taking in more of the room, before he looks back to the plaque in front of them. Then he reaches out to touch the button that activates the personal hologram.

Ren stays silent as Spring listens to the private hologram, and he follows him when Spring moves to the next.

They spend longer time in here than in any other exhibition. Spring stops at every plaque, and Ren lets him, ready to answer any questions Spring has. [allow ren to talk abt the lore i’ve come up with?]

But Spring doesn’t ask him anything. He simply watches and listens to the holograms, and then he moves on.

Ren doesn’t stop him until they start getting close to a smaller, but more decorated archway.

“Spring,” he says as he holds his hand up, stopping them both. Ren gives him a [soft?] look before motioning towards the archway. “I know you want to listen to the holograms but. Through that archway is the memorial. For all the victims of C.H.E.S.T. And since this will be personal for both you and me, I would like to talk about them,” he continues, bowing his head down. When he looks back up, Spring has a small frown on his face.

“You’re a C.H.E.S.T employee,” he says, and with a tone that indicates that he doesn’t think Ren should be allowed to.

“Ex-employee. And I worked in the public sector, not knowing what was going on.” Ren raises a hand to his own hand, and taps one of his ears that flicks away from the touch. “I’m as much of an android as you. I know you don’t trust me, but please. This is the way I can show these people respect. Please let me talk about them.”

Many emotions seem to cross Spring’s face, until eventually he closes his eyes and takes a deep breath. When he opens his eyes, he nods.

“Okay.”

Ren smiles as he straighteners his back. “Thank you,” he says, and takes a step to the side. He motions towards the archway. “Let’s begin.”

Spring takes the lead, but Ren is quick to end up walking beside him.

“These people,” Ren begins as they enter the memorial area, “are people who C.H.E.S.T have one way or another killed. Be it by mercanaries, tasked to take down who they consider enemies, or being forced into the datastream.”

It’s easy for Ren to slip into his [curator] role, and to forget why they’re here to begin with.

“[names] are some of the last victims that C.H.E.S.T caused[?] before the police and government started to crack down on them. In fact, most people here in the beginning section are later victims. Many of which were straight up killed as C.H.E.S.T tried to figure out who had betrayed them, not quite getting that there were too many people who were asking questions at this point. But there were quite a few that they sent into the datastream as well,” Ren says as he continues to slowly walk down the rows of plaques with pictures of different faces.

He stops as Martyn stops by a plaque and just looks at it.

“People who ended up in the datastream are people who we might be able to recover, as long as their data hasn’t been corrupted. Sadly it’s a too common recurrence that the data chips they reside in have been broken or rendered useless, so these are all we have left of them.” Ren looks ahead of them, eyes distant as he remembers waking up for the first time since being put in the datastream.

“Those who we’ve found to still be uncorrupted, we’ve given an android body and given a chance at life again. Most do not wish to be contacted, so please refrain from asking.”

Spring lets out a huff beside him, and Ren gives him a smile. “Apologize, there’s been a lot of people who ask to speak with them, so it just slipped out. Anyway.”

Spring shakes his head, and starts to walk down the row again, to which Ren falls in line with.

[reading up a few names?]

“As said, most people in this part were killed, and this ‘late stage’ started roughly 5 years before C.H.E.S.T was shut down,” Ren says, hands clasped behind his back. “Of course, that’s the official shut down. The police needed to hunt down underground sections for years after, but at least C.H.E.S.T didn’t have control of the public anymore.”

They cross a line on the floor, and Ren unclasps his hands and motions to the closest plaque, now sporting a different color in the background. “These people are more from the ‘middle stage’, for lack of better words, and many of them ended up in the datastream. We know this thanks to documents C.H.E.S.T kept, and we have found plenty of ‘resting chips’ as we have come to call them. Again, most of these are sadly corrupted, so a burial is all we have been able to give them.”

[more names? more walking around?]

As the room opens up [spreading?] into different paths for showing more plaques, Ren takes the lead, looking towards a wall, and slightly raised platform.

“These people,” Ren says as he comes to a halt in front of the display, “were a part of a group[name?] that tried to fight and stop C.H.E.S.T. It was created very early on, and was able to fight off C.H.E.S.T for a good amount of time, but sadly the targeted attacks became more and more intense. Too soon, many of these people disappeared.”

Ren lets his eyes trail over one picture at a time. “[name]. Viktor ‘Doc’ [name]. Martyn Littlewood. [name]. People who, at the time, just vanished to never be seen again.”

[aaronstveit]

i would loooove to hear more of your director's commentary about deep end! <3 not sure how much you can say without spoiling but did you make a lot of changes from the original draft? and are there any scene that didn't make it into the final fic? thank youuu <3

omg hi anon this question made my entire day <3333 gonna answer beneath a read more as always because when talking about deep end i am this trc meme

okay so firstly! i wrote deep end 3 times. the original draft had a final wordcount of 126,978 words. the middle draft had a final wordcount of 175,065 words. the final draft's wordcount is not finalized yet because i am still editing & still adding one scene to the epilogue, but obviously we've already surpassed the first draft's wordcount, so that's fun.

as you can see, about 50k words were added in the middle draft! there are a lot of reasons for this. chapters 8 & 9, as well as about half of chapter 10, did not exist in the original draft. i added them during rewriting because i felt we hadn't spent enough time with enjolras & cosette.

combeferre and éponine were almost nonexistent in the original draft. not just as a couple, but individually as well. every single grantaire & éponine scene was added in the middle draft, and most of enjolras & combeferre's scenes as well.

i actually didn't cut any full scenes out! there were quite a few though where i started writing a scene, realized it was wrong, and erased what i had written and started over. for instance, this bit in chapter 18:

in the original draft, i tried writing enjolras turning to grantaire at this point and saying, "I think I'm in love with you," before cosette answered the door. obviously, i ended up deciding against this, mostly because i decided the kiss scene would pack more of a punch if enjolras realizes he's in love with grantaire right when he's in the middle of their argument.

i also deleted soooooooooo many arguments. this is probably surprising considering how often they argue in this fic, but at least once a chapter i really had to stop myself and say, okay no this is getting unhealthy. i enjoy writing arguments too much apparently - which is good for writing exr, but only to a certain extent.

originally, grantaire was not going to have a sister. it genuinely did not even occur to me until chapter 11 (which was chapter 8 at the time), but once it did occur to me, i couldn't not do it. his grief plotline became way too dear to me way too quickly.

the biggest changes i made during writing all had to do with reordering events!! originally, karaoke happened somewhere around chapter 8. i ended up moving it wayyyyyyyyy back because i felt like their flirting was out of place so early in the story.

i also moved enjolras' arguments with cosette and grantaire to an earlier point than i originally intended. at first, i thought they were going to happen around the second-to-last chapter, but i moved them forward a lot earlier because i thought more work needed to be done with enjolras.

the chapter that underwent the most changes from the middle draft to the finished draft is chapter 24. obviously i can't say just yet what those changes are, but i'm really really happy with how that chapter turned out and i hope you all will be as well <3

several of my personal favorite scenes in this fic are actually cannibalized from something i tried writing and gave up on a few months ago. marius getting mugged in chapter 4, the hamlet conversation in chapter 7, and enjolras tending to grantaire's broken nose in chapter 14 were all taken from the same abandoned wip.

as for some more random tidbits that i find fun:

a fun fact for everyone is that cosette did not pull the phrase "who has a flag where he should have a heart" out of thin air! she takes this from courfeyrac in chapter 13:

which is why courfeyrac winces when enjolras says it in chapter 19:

also in chapter 19, enjolras means to say that Train to Busan is his favorite horror movie ending. i didn't just choose that because i love that movie (although i really really do) but because. well. i'm not going to spoil the ending for you if you haven't seen it, but... it was very deliberate is all i'm saying.

i really cannot overstate how much of this fic only exists because of cossette notebookmusical. for starters, i only even attempted writing it because she said "jamie if you don't write this." she also got to spend months listening to me bitch about it and receiving so many horrible snippets from the original draft so coco, if you're reading this, thank you from the very bottom of my heart 🫶🏻

more specifically, the entire beginning sequence of chapter 17 with grantaire staying the night at enjolras' apartment was inspired by cossette! i was asking her for situations to put the blond man in and one of her ideas was that he loses his keys. so everyone say thank you cossette!

also the bit in chapter 19 where enjolras thinks about combeferre a psychology minor is the worst thing to ever happen to you was added after i said something to cossette and she said something along the lines of, "would you like to elaborate on that?"

the ending bit of chapter 23 is also inspired by and written for cossette. you'll see what i mean in a few weeks.

there are a lot more bits and pieces inspired by things that cossette has said and done, or added just to make her laugh, but if i listed all of them i would be here forever. just know that this entire fic is cocoservice and it is only because of cossette that it exists at all <333333

there is also a collection of scenes i'm considering writing as "bonus content" for when the fic is fully posted - mostly scenes that already exist, but from another point of view, and a few that are only mentioned in passing.

okay i'm cutting myself off now because this is a lot of yapping even for me but you may always ask more if you're so inclined <3333 thank you sm for asking i had so much fun answering this! i really can't tell you how much it means to me not only that you're not only reading but also enjoying it so much that you're asking about it like... this is literally a fic writer's DREAM. thank you so so so much <3333

[queen-tashie]

Happy Storyteller Saturday! I'd love to hear about your earliest writing attempts! How old you were when you started writing, what you wrote about, the first story you finished, etc... feel free to ramble on :)

Happy Storyteller Saturday!

My absolute earliest writing was way back somewhere between grade 2 and 4 (ages 7-9ish). I tried writing my own episode of Pokemon as a picture book. (I thiiiink my parents still have it somewhere, I kind of want to take a look at it again).

I didn't really write much back then, I was more into drawing line art and making OCs that way. When I got to grade 4 or 5ish I stopped reading on my own almost completely, besides an occasional book or two, and I was more likely to read non-fiction to learn about animals (like sharks. I really like sharks.). I think as I stopped reading I also stopped writing, because I didn't start reading for pleasure again until I was 15. And then suddenly I started writing again.

Around then I mostly read YA fantasy in my free time, so I started writing a story about dragons (two brother dragons, Valdore and Arian, their father Failias, and their mother S... something with an S at least. (I could literally check this right now but I just had a huge meal and I'm feeling sluggish haha). Ok it was bugging me not knowing and I got up to look for it (and it took like 5 minutes instead of the 10 seconds I thought it would lol) and her name was Sarhina. I attempted this story a couple times but was fully pantsing it, not really sure which direction to go in. I wrote about three or four very, very short chapters before I started writing something else. Valdore was one of the OCs I had come up with back in elementary school, I think as young as 6 years old, so I was still happy that I attempted writing a story about him.

The next story I wanted to write was a futuristic apocalypse story where the main characters fought demons as they came out at dawn. This one I progressed even less than the dragon story, the OCs were much newer. Originally I had called this story Survival of the Fittest, then I changed the premise completely to the main characters either appearing in a new world or already living there (I suppose it was a genre change to a portal fantasy). I kept some of the apocalyptic vibes the same, the world had time seasons that went through the life and death of the ecosystem and structures on the land, then back to rebirth. One season was new growth, buildings were small but structurally sound, even people felt refreshed. Another season was abundance, buildings were large and had character to them, people felt their best and were at their strongest. The third season was scarcity and death, buildings crumbled from age, people were struggling to survive. Then it would start again with the rebirth of the land. Again, didn't really know where I was going with this story but the world building was much better developed than the first.

Somewhere in between both of these stories in my teens, I wrote some more Pokemon fanfic that I had started to share on DeviantArt.

There were also a half dozen or so other WIPs that I had started and didn't get further than a paragraph or two. For some reason I deleted many of these :(

Then the first novel-length story I ever finished is (BEING RELEASED TOMORROW!!!!) The Quiet Forest. Runnicka is an old OC from my elementary school drawings (though she's changed since then, I happened to get an ask earlier today that reminded me of this). It took me 11 years to finish writing it (from drafting to giving up and redrafting to finally writing my first outline to finishing the actual first draft, then many, many edits), plus a year to query over 100 agents. It's the longest I've ever stuck to anything before, and so it's been a huge accomplishment finishing it, finishing querying, and now deciding to share it online (more about the story here).

I've had a series of smaller writing wins (ie finished stories) before The Quiet Forest was finished, though! I wrote about 10 flash fictions in 2020, some that I'd like to revisit and edit to better match my current writing skill level. One of them is already ready to read on my AO3 account! And last year I wrote over 80k words between two first drafts for two separate novels, and two finished short stories, one a Legend of Dragoon fanfic (also on my AO3), and another that I wrote as a writing sample for a contract writing position (almost got in but there were hundreds of entries and only about 5 or 6 spots), but I am working to get it published! And speaking of publishing, in 2023 I got randomly inspired to write All You Hear Is My Voice which got published early this year. It's a sci fi/speculative romance where a lonely queer man has reverse telepathy--instead of hearing everyone's thoughts, he's involuntarily projecting every thought he has into the minds of others nearby. Makes it hard for him to meet understanding people, and even harder to date. The thing that makes it sci fi is that it takes place on Mars :)

[vacantgodling]

1, 3, 4, 8, 15 for the end of year ask game!! :3

hewwo thank you for the ask <3<3

1. what was your writing-highlight this year? what made it special and how will you reflect on it next year?

mentioned this in my writing in review for this year but finishing cage earlier this year really set me on a high note for the rest of the year. i really proved to myself that i can write 80k+ words in a single project; i can finish and fully flesh out a narrative, my dreams are achievable if i really put myself to it.

for a really long time i didn't think i could do it. there's a lot of reasons why i felt that way, but having people who kept up with every chapter, my partner and other friends like valen and multi listening to me rant ad nauseum about my ideas and thoughts, and giving myself permission to do something 'silly' turned out to be such a good decision. so i think next year i'm trying to take that energy into it. i'm writing for myself, my friends and my dick LMAO. but i'm also taking the strategies that i learned (ie: i need a long outline to finish something or i won't p much lol). so next year is really gonna be a planning year! i wanna have more outlines that i can go back and reread and become obsessed about sEUOSDJ

3. did you achieve everything you wanted to this year? if not, how will you go about it?

nah! but tbh i'm okay with it. getting distracted by other wips is just par for the course for me and my brain pfff so i'm not miffed that i got distracted by other things and paramour got put off to the side. i still think about paramour a LOT don't get me wrong; but khizzy and sjaak giving me brain rot is a welcome change.

i also could've never predicted i would get into conlanging--i barely knew what it was (outside of lotr really) but here i am a few months later with a whole baby language on my hands HAHA. i think i'm finally of the mindset that yeah writing is my life's purpose bc it would be meaningless without it, but its also a hobby and i wanna have fun with it <3

4. what is your favourite line you wrote this year?

this is so hard OSCJK thank god multiple people have asked this bc its definitely not just one. perusing through the things i wrote this year, i think one that stands out to me is from draft 3 of btaf (which is the actual Real Prose draft 1 attempt lol. its a whole tier system of me drawing this wip out) but its the first sentence kinda hits and i don't think i wanna change it cuz it sets the tone well:

The cruelest and craftiest of all the Devil’s handiwork—darkness—had descended upon and laid waste to the countryside.

something something, speaks of the savagery that is yet to be revealed later on, makes the wip super moody (the equivalent of the tried and true "dark and stormy night"), and alludes to the time period (cuz we're talking about the devil in deadass the first sentence PFF)

8. what are three things you're looking forward to next year?

i'm gonna be optimistic and say draft 2 (the elongated outline) of btaf will be done--i've been taking a break from it but multi's very sweet sweep of draft 1 has reinvigorated me with brain worms.

i also want to work more on he who smites the sun bc... khizzy beloved. and with that all of the wips from ph -> paramour i want to figure out how they're linked and their outlines etc

and then i think i'm just excited to just be more silly with what i write next year. i wanna get back into my art wips (tmc and broken clouds for instance) and write more smutty shenanigans with bruno and his mess. :D

15. time for shameless self-promotion! answer with a piece of writing you want others to see/read! (if you have nothing posted/published this year, any other year is fine too ^^)

this lore post about tcol which details MIZDARR and MUINENS's first meeting and how the harvest god KIBARUM was born. idk i really love the gods and mythos tcol has i should talk about it more. its not really writing writing but i want people to see it anyway :D

[spilling-blood]

WIP Wednesday - 11

For the upcoming Fyodor Ship Week - Thursday Pairing: Fyodor/Nikolai

"The first day went by with nothing noteworthy happening, even as Nikolai got ready for bed he didn't feel like anything was amiss. He actually had forgotten about his shiny new fangs a couple times and nicked his lip and tongue trying to eat earlier. It took a little getting used to. His fangs were longer than the polite little pointy canines he saw depicted so often on illustrated vampires, and he swore his teeth had gotten wider as well. Somehow it all fit comfortably in his mouth without an issue.

Fyodor had asked him if he was feeling any sort of new cravings or hunger, before returning to his own room, but he wasn't yet. As he was falling asleep he swore he saw his door crack open, faint light creeping across the floor of his room and his bed, and he drifted off wondering if Fyodor was much more nervous than he was letting on.

The next day he still felt fine and decided to act as if nothing had changed, maybe he was simply too strong to be affected by something like ability induced artificial blood lust. Or perhaps he would only feel it if he was already fighting someone and making them bleed, maybe that was what Fyodor meant by it varying by personality and disposition.

He sat at their small table and had his usual morning tea with Fyodor, and he managed to avoid biting his tongue this time too when he went to nibble on a slice of apple.

"So you really don't feel any different? At all?"

"Nope! My teeth look cool as hell though! I kinda want to keep them," Nikolai flashed a devious and pointy smile at his friend with a wink.

"I see…" Fyodor trailed off, and Nikolai felt his gaze linger on his smile, and surely his fangs, before he hid them again behind a less animated expression.

Nikolai's own vision was pulled to Fyodor's pale arms, as he rolled the sleeves of his shirt up nonchalantly. The blue lines of his veins drawn across his flesh seemed more prominent than usual. He was always fair skinned but his wrists and arms were looking a little, translucent.

That was odd for him to do, Nikolai thought. Fyodor was usually always cold, was his skin always like that before too? Maybe he had been taking worse care of himself...

"A little warm or something?" Nikolai asked.

"Hm? No, why?" Fyodor looked at him curiously from behind his cup as he took another sip of his tea.

"No reason," that was a lie, but now he wondered if he was paying too much attention to him this morning and over analyzing his behaviors.

They finished their breakfast in comfortable silence, but Nikolai couldn't help himself from stealing glances at Fyodor's wrists. He explained it away in his head, that he found Fyodor incredibly attractive and he almost never rolled his sleeves up like that, so of course it would be enticing to Nikolai. That was it."

[hydn-jpg]

Hi, it's your secret pal! I'm curious - what is your favorite aspect from each of your pairings? How would you describe them, what draws them to each other? Feel free to ramble, I'd love to get to know more about them!

hi hello!! i'm so sorry i couldn't answer earlier, there's been several losses in my family (not my immediate family but very close relatives) and it was kind of a lot so i wasn't able to go online for a while ,, i know this is probably not very helpful anymore at this point but i will try to answer it still!

i'm not good at writing and i don't really think about them much outside of reading their books and drawing them so for the most part, my mcs and their lis closely follow their 'canon' stories and personalities ,, but i will try to describe some thoughts i've had abt them!

trystan x noel

i've always been a sucker for the kind of dynamic they have, where one is really flirty and charming and the other is a gruff, no nonsense person (i'm sure there's a name for this dynamic but i can't think of it rn,,). i also love the forced proximity they had at first, with noel reluctantly letting trystan work with him but thawing and warming up to him over time!

i definitely love their interactions most in book 1 and kinda wish they stayed in that sort of dynamic for a bit longer (in fact, i would've liked if book 1 was just them flirting back and forth, and for the actual romance to start in book 2 haha). i liked book 2 but it felt a bit rushed and some parts were kinda weird to me. haven't read book 3 or the proposal book yet and idk if i want to lol

i think trystan was fascinated and attracted to noel right off the bat. noel's gruff and sarcastic demeanor is refreshing and dare i say, sexy to him :3c the attraction might be superficial at first, but over time he starts to notice noel's little quirks (like how his handwriting is complete chicken scratch, unreadable to everyone but himself and ruby somehow, or how he pouts when deep in thought, something noel himself doesn't realize he does). at first, he finds them amusing. but then that amusement became fondness and that fondness became something more, and things kinda just snowballed from there!

i don't think noel thought much of trystan until a lot later (at least, a little bit later than in the books). he was hot, sure, but he was also kinda annoying, too talkative and entirely too flirty. but i like to think that trystan's "annoying" traits are also what eventually draws noel to him, like his talkativeness(?), his chatter, his voice — the same one that used to annoy him when they first worked together on the sonja case becoming the balm to soothe his nerves as they get closer to each other. does that make sense?? idk lol. he pretends to be annoyed but he secretly doesn't mind it. maybe even finds it endearing, not that he'd admit it at this stage haha

noel doesn't just fall. he plummets, even though he's reluctant to acknowledge it at first. but when he does, he's all in for him <3

i think they definitely fit into the 'he fell first, he fell harder' trope!

i don't see their dynamic changing much after they get together. their banter stays the same, but you could definitely tell that it's also become more affectionate! they're also more open and vulnerable with each other, but i think that's kind of a given haha. i see them cooking together pretty often too! noel's a great cook, and trystan is always eager to help out :D

in my personal canon, noel and trystan wouldn't get married (although i do have a wip of trystan proposing... but that's a joke post haha). maybe i'm projecting but they just don't seem like marriage-type people. i see them being common law partners instead!

oh also! noel is bisexual but has never been in a committed relationship with a guy until trystan. by the start of book 1 he hasn't been in a relationship in quite a while (idk if i want to make it canon or not yet but his last relationship probably didn't end very well) so falling for trystan was kind of scary for him, but with trystan's help he was able to warm up to it quickly c:

cas x jiwon

immortal desires was one of those books that i kinda scoffed at when i first saw the cover but it ended up being my second favourite book after crimes!! i love cas (and gabe but this is not abt them), he's the classic bad boy with a secret heart of gold trope c: maybe cas is the real golden boy all along haha

cas was interested in jiwon bc he was new in town, a fresh face. that was it, until he noticed that gabe was clearly interested in him. then it became a game of sorts – whenever gabe was near the new guy, he made it his personal mission to invade their space. so he hung around jiwon mostly to get under gabe's skin (though he had to admit, jiwon's witty comebacks and sharp remarks made it all the more enjoyable), but the more they were together, the more he genuinely enjoyed jiwon's company. eventually he wasn't there to annoy gabe anymore, he's there bc he wanted to be.

he loves that jiwon doesn't take his shit. he stands his ground where others would cower or straight up ignore him.

i think what jiwon likes most abt cas is that despite how he (tries to) act, he's really just a big softie and also kind of a dork :3c that's it lol. cas isn't as subtle as he thinks he is, and jiwon sees right through his bad boy facade (in fact, he thinks cas is kinda terrible at the whole bad boy thing. like, "oh i just gave you my jacket bc if i don't you'd freeze to death and i don't wanna deal with that" ?? please). cas is cas, and that's why jiwon loves him <3

lucky x woojin

they're a newer pairing so i haven't had many thoughts about them but i think of them as having a playful, teasing relationship (the teasing mostly on lucky's part haha)

idk how to explain this but in the nicest way possible, i think of woojin as a bit of a cringefail loser. idk why. but i do think that's part of what makes him so endearing to lucky! he's cute, but in the loser kind of way, if that makes sense

he probably already had a crush on her growing up, whenever she and destiny and the rest of the gang would hang out at their home he would always try to find an excuse to talk to her, or try to impress her by doing something probably dumb (i'm thinking somewhere along the lines of young rhett and link hijinks), much to destiny's ire and to lucky's amusement

other than that, i think of lucky as being the more dominant one in the relationship (not necessarily in just a sexual way, but like in general).

i think that's all i could think of them rn ;; i haven't actually finished reading terrorfest yet so it's a bit difficult for me, a (mostly) canon enjoyer, to visualize what they'll be like at this point. but i will try to write more about them when i finish reading!

(also ik what could happen to lucky if your points with her aren't high enough(?), so that's definitely an alternate route i'm interested in exploring!)

__

again i'm sorry if this wasn't very helpful! i feel like i didn't really answer your question ;;; ik you said feel free to ramble but i literally wrote out my train of thought so it's kinda all over the place haha

[lesbiansayaishii]

what are your currents wips!? <3

hi anon! mostly i'm writing for meddison right now, so i'll give you those wips. edit: this got very long so my wips are under the cut <3

lately she's undressing for revenge. i currently have 3 parts out of this fic! the basic premise is addison walks into meredith's life and suddenly her relationship is ruined because her boyfriend didn't bother to tell her that he had a wife. so meredith drops him in a turmoil of feelings and seduces addison to get back at him. and, well, if they happen to fall in love... isn't that the ultimate fuck you?

neighbor au. this one doesn't have a title yet, and it's BARELY a wip with how much time i've had to work on it lately, but it's really kind of an au where one tiny thing is changed in canon and the butterfly effect of what happens because of it- namely derek divorces addison before he runs to seattle in season 1, so when addison shows up in seattle (with henry) in season 18 and moves into the house next to meredith's, they have no idea about the connection between them. slightly crack-y events ensue as well as some very fun, very sexy milf action because really. this is me we're talking about. (it's partially based on my therapist told me by xana if you wanna check that out!!)

sad christmas fic. this is from the mentioned christmas part in chapter 3 of revenge. that's all i'm gonna say about that.

bloomington au. this is based on the sapphic professor/student movie bloomington! the main characters SCREAMED meddison to me as i was watching it so i took notes and somehow it devolved into a whole au. whoops.

elevate me songfic. so um. fun fact about me i hate nick marsh? especially with meredith? so in very me fashion i decided to take the song that played over their first sex scene and make it into a season 18 meddison au. because honestly the whole nick storyline SCREAMS meddison the second time around. the meeting again after a long period of time, the instant rekindling of infatuation, the way they would drop anything for one another, etc. you get it. this one is probably a two parter but i'm excited for it especially since i was just talking about it with @walshies earlier. it's going to be very self indulgent and everything we wished was true about meddison the second time around <3

an addison-centric fic about her early life > relationship with derek > relationship with mark > relationship with meredith <3 i haven't decided whether or not i want to include the events from private practice into this fic yet but i suppose we will see what happens when i have more time lol.

carol au. planned this one out with @thenightmaredrowns! it's based on the movie carol (as was a bit obvious) we have it mostly figured out we just have to... actually write it. in our spare time.

bonus random assorted fics i haven't thought about in a bit:

series rewrite but meddison is cheating on derek through the entire show

a fic set to enchanted by taylor swift. set before in the heat of your electric touch (i want to need you forever)

season 6 au, meddison adopts zola

a fic set to maroon by taylor swift

friends with benefits meddison

a fic set to shivers by ed sheeran (this one has no plot. it's a single scene lol)

[doodlebeeberry]

Why she was sitting up on the pool rim with her, then, Charlotte didn't know.

wip of a charlotte and amelia fic cause. i dont really have a good reason i just feel bad leaving it on my hard drive for so long with out touching it.

The plane wasn't quiet. It had been, it had been really quiet, for a while, back when Airy had first disappeared. Hours (days? Weeks? Months? Shifts, the others had started calling them, like they were stuck at work instead of in Hell, though she herself could never get in the habit) of silence would stretch over the plane on all sides. Charlotte, more often than not, would use that time the same way she almost always did: sitting back, thinking, watching, on occasion, whatever the others were up to. Fun times. But, sometime in between dying–or reviving, reincarnating, she didn't even wanna begin figuring that one out, so dying it remained–and Backpack–Liam–making an appearance…wherever Airy was, something changed. She'd noticed while trying to take a nap, how there was always noise now, some little background noise beyond the usual chatting that was a frequent fixture of this place. She heard rain pretty often, or what sounded like rain, sometimes like a drizzle and others like a down-and-out hurricane. Typing was even more common, the clunky kind from a loud keyboard, alongside computer mouse clicking and muttering. Lots of muttering. Lots of muttered curses, to be more specific, in a voice eerily like Liam's. Honestly, it sounded like someone had walked away from a voice call without turning the microphone off, all that kind of unconscious background noise. Putting two and two together, she could guess that Liam himself had something to do with it. Figures.

At the moment, she heard the faintest sound of snores make their way down to them, which had followed behind keystroke clacks, slowing steadily until, with a final little clatter, the vanished altogether. It was an easy picture to paint, Liam slumped over whatever keyboard he had on his end, asleep with his cheek pressed flat on the keys, and fitting given that almost everyone down on the plane was asleep as well. Subway and Whippy had gone inanimate–another wonderful phenomena of this place she wouldn't bother figuring out–in a little pile, one stacked on top of the other. She'd caught Tray dozing on the far side of the pool, and last she saw Scenty and Soda–Bryce–they'd been in the shed failing to play chess, she could only assume they'd fallen asleep at some point too. Charlotte was tempted to join in, honestly, she certainly felt tired. Earlier she'd been pulled, five against one (though it really wasn't much of a fight) into helping whittle down some of the wood from that last stake into something they could actually use. Someone–Subway, she guessed–wanted to make another game board, so that they'd have something to play other than chess. But despite actually doing something today, the keyboard noise combined with the renewing ache of growth in her shoulder had kept Charlotte awake, enough so that she'd said Fuck It and went on a short walk down to the plug and back in the hopes that it'd knock her out. Which it hadn't yet, even though she was already on her way back. Passing by Subway and Whippy, still inert, she groaned internally. Staring off into space and thinking–spiraling, more accurately, though she wouldn't put it like that–hadn't exactly done her any good before she died. Charlotte wasn't keen on playing that game again, but she didn't have anything else to do, particularly with just about everyone else asleep. She could swim, she thought, but hesitated at the thought of all that moisture mingling with her mold. She passed by Atom, the only other person awake by the looks of it, noticeable only by an overturned triangle of grass, bobbing as he tried drawing in the dirt with its tip. He greeted her, just like he had when she'd left. She could sit with him, watch him draw, even draw herself if she wanted, but…eh. She wasn't really one for art. That, and Atom was another one of those quirks of the plane she didn't wanna put much thought into; she didn't really like hanging around with just him. She nodded back at him, returning his greeting, and approached the shed. If nothing else, she could always steal the chess board from Bryce and Scenty while they slept, though the thought of playing a one-on-one match with herself was absolutely humiliating.

Charlotte sighed, rounding the corner. What she wouldn't give for her flat-screen. Or her phone. Or the internet. God, she missed the internet. All the movies or games or books she could have ever wanted had been right at her fingertips, and now she'd been reduced to just whittling away her time. Literally. It sucked. Before she could get too far with her griping, though, she glanced into the shed. The sight gave her pause. Bryce was there, as she'd guessed, leaning back with his feet kicked up on both the table and the board–the bastard, she thought, unable now to steal it without waking him–but that was it. Bryce was asleep alone, Scenty nowhere to be seen. Huh. it wasn't a cause for concern, really. Unless she'd fallen from somewhere, somehow, and shattered her sorry ass Charlotte knew she was fine–not like they could get lost here, after all, or go missing–but it was weird. She shrugged, turning away from the scene. Not like it was any of her business what Scenty got up to in her down time. But no sooner had she written the situation off did she spot the woman of the hour perched up on the rim of the pool, alone, facing the water. Again Charlotte paused–that was even weirder. She could count the number of times she'd seen Scenty up there on one hand with fingers to spare, and not once had she been alone. The ladder in her sights, Charlotte weighed her options.

...At least the climb up the ladder was short.

Annoying, given the bad are and shit depth perception, but short. And the view from the rim wasn't terrible. Not that there was much to see, beyond the occasional sleeping forms of the others-now including Tray, visible from this vantage point, still curled up exactly where Charlotte had last seen her-but you could see the curvature of the plane, the way the "grass" seemed flatter the further out you squinted. At the very least, you could see it all more clearly that you could from the ground. At its edges, the sky was grey. Greyer, anyway, or duller. The sun sat squat overhead. Scenty sat criss-cross a scooch or two away. Hands at her side kept her balanced on the thin edge, Charlotte thought. She pulled herself up onto the lip, alongside her. Scenty didn't acknowledge her, if she noticed her at all, staring into the water. Reflected back, Scenty's expression was steady. Charlotte watched her a moment, then, with a splash, plopped her feet into the water. Perfectly lukewarm. Eugh. The reflection rippled. Scenty glanced at her slightly. Charlotte caught her eye instantly. She raised a brow, and Scenty looked away. Charlotte did the same.

They stayed like this for several minutes. Looking around, into the water. Sometimes Charlotte would drag her feet, back and forth, making the sun around their heads distort. Charlotte and Scenty hadn't talked much lately. They'd talked a little, in a place like this it was almost impossible to avoid one another entirely, but all of it was short and none of it mattered much. Just shift talks, mostly. Somewhere along the line, Subway, nosy bastard that he was, insisted on knowing more about her life-particularly her cave exploring, which both he and Whippy claimed was too cool a topic to keep to herself. She'd relented eventually, if only (she would say) to get them off her back, and one little story-time turned into another, then another. Then the others started throwing in their own experiences–who was dating who at Tray's school, convoluted sub-atomic politics as described by Atom that Charlotte simply could not wrap her head around, a story about sibling mischief that made Bryce sound fonder than she'd ever heard him. Even Liam had joined in a couple of times, with weird telemarketing stories that made him laugh tiredly. It became part of the work shifts, like yoga or whittling. Scenty, meanwhile, never joined them. Charlotte only offered once. She wasn't surprised, being turned down. She remembered what'd happened, just before Bryce showed up. Scenty was set on leaving that chat unfinished and Charlotte couldn't be assed to do anything about it, even if it kept them from actually talking about anything ever again. Whatever problem Scenty had, that was her business.

Why she was sitting up on the pool rim with her, then, Charlotte didn't know. She hadn't really thought this through as well as it seemed. Scratch that, she hadn't really thought this through at all. But the silence was getting awkward, with everyone else too asleep to break it. "The water's…nice," Charlotte tried lying first. Scenty hummed. The quiet returned. Damn it. She kicked the water around a bit. "You don't come up here much," she observed instead. "Not really, no," Scenty replied.

[umbracirrus]

WIP Whenever 💛

Losing track of days this week, it has certainly been... something, to say the least. I've also not really had much chance to write this week until today, so it's certainly not my best but that's the nature of a work in progress, isn't it? It'll change, and it'll get better! 😊

With the excerpt I'm posting today, I've jumped ahead a few chapters in The Perfect Storm to the events of a festival in Whiterun - as for which one... Well, I've not made my mind up on it yet. Probably something like New Life... something winter-y or based around new year/midwinter at least!

Tagged by @thequeenofthewinter and @oblivions-dawn 💛

--------

Balgruuf frowned at the display of treats, not through dislike of the selection but rather through his inability to make a decision. Even then, his decision was not about what he wanted – his mind was set upon spiced fruit tarts following on from the earlier recommendation – but rather about what he would do afterwards. And just how many he would buy.

For a time, he pondered, going through his different options in his mind… at least until he realised that he was starting to receive concerned looks from passersby, both resident and visitors alike, for how he had been standing. Fortunately, his mind was made up by then.

An exchange of seven hundred (to be adjusted!) septims later – a price which he had no doubt was driven by the war across Skyrim – he found himself with two of the tarts, the sugar which dusted the top of them already getting all over his hands as a smile crept onto his face. The festival had been enjoyable, but it felt about the right time for him to go home. Whilst the city could be afforded the opportunity to make merry into the early hours, the same such luxury was not extended to its Jarl whose schedule the next day began before sunrise. That, and he had something which he wanted to do before he went to bed for the night.

Weaving in and out of the crowds filling the marketplace, he was glancing across all the people on the lookout for somebody in particular. He soon enough spotted her, though that was not after having to stop as he heard chanting from the direction of the Bannered Mare, and caught sight of Hrongar and one of the twins of the Companions having what appeared to be a drinking competition whilst an audience goaded them on. He rolled his eyes yet let out a chuckle as he shook his head, before approaching where Irileth was sat on a wall, her hand firmly placed upon a bow.

The housecarl acknowledged him with a quick glance, before her eyes darted back towards the chanting. "Yes?"

"I need you to keep an eye on my children for me until it is time for them to leave the festival, Irileth. Hrongar too, if possible. I'm returning to Dragonsreach. Keep them safe for me."

"But what about your safety, Balgruuf?" She called out, her full attention finally on him as he briskly walked away from her. He didn't respond. He didn't hear her over the cheer of a victor being declared for the contest. "Balgruuf?!"

He had a one-track mind as he made his way through the streets, following a path he had followed so many times before that it was a surprise that the stone had not worn thin beneath his feet or the wood give way to splinters on the bridge leading into Dragonsreach. It was only when indoors though that he exhaled quietly, and began to slow his pace into something more relaxed.

Soon enough, he made his way into the private quarters, then slowly approached a door which at first glance was closed, but upon knocking, creaked open. He didn't fully step inside, not knowing if he was entirely welcomed by its occupant, but made his presence known through clearing his throat.

"Are you still awake?" He asked, taking a deep breath as he thought on what say. "I… felt bad that you weren't able to visit the festival, so I brought you something that I think that you would like. May I come in?"

There was silence for a moment, before there was a quiet creaking of floorboards followed by the door opening fully. "Y… Yeah. You can."

[eleanore-delphinium]

Firstly those are the titles.

I didn't expect that 103 people would vote. For those that need more than the title to decide at the bottom are some hints.

These are the stories that are more or less more developed and because there is only 10 options available.

And with that said, whatever wins, I will write the summary of the story to the best of my abilities. (because let's be honest, I am very unreliable as a writer.) I will also give a week to give a chance to everyone and I won't be voting so I won't see the results.

Spoilers ahead.

Diaval

A maleficent AU. Been in my mind for 3 years, one of my earlier damirae plots.

My memory of this is blotchy sadly, they have kids here.

I could never actually write this because I can't figure out how I want to write it (and because I forgot some big bits).

Broken Vow

This is messy af. But honestly my fave and for me it's worth it.

Damian has 2 sons.

Damian divorced Raven.

Cheating.

Intrigue.

AFTER

Some JayRae here.

Story starts 5 years after Damian's death.

Nothing much to say about this if it's chosen, I have started this and it's been in my drafts for 2-3 years. I couldn't continue this because I didn't like how I wrote it, but I changed my mind when I reread it recently.

Angst.

The Prince of Wayne

This one kinda pokes fun of like boys over flowers and that kind of stories.

My memory of this is blotchy too.

But there is a plot and I vaguely remember the waypoints.

A World Without a You

This is short, and you guys have seen some of the dialogues of this AU.

Teaser 1 ( Dialogues from Damirae Fics I May or May Not Write. I .)

For reference:

Teaser 2 ( Dialogues from Damirae Fics I May or May Not Write. I(a) .)

I have written this (and been in the WIP graveyard for 2-3 years), but I didn't like it which was why I wanted to scrap it.

Dialogues above were what made me think of this AU.

Smooth Criminal

I tried writing this but never could go pass 2 paragraphs.

Enemies to Lovers.

Raven is in League of Assassins.

Damian is not.

Olympians

Greek Gods AU.

Jon and Raven are sometimes 'lovers/ siblings/ cousins/ some other thing' depending on the situation.

I have wrote this and have been in the WIP graveyard for a 2 years.

Mystery.

Damian and Raven met because he is looking for Hades' Flower.

The Cruel Joke

I wanted to kill someone. So I did.

Major Character death.

Then I realized it is similar to what happened to Barbara Gordon in Killing Joke, which is why the title is the way it is, it is a homage to that.

I have started this, and it is in my WIP graveyard for about 5 months.

The Cruel Joke: Teaser 1

Some of you might have also seen some of the lines, and for reference:

The Cruel Joke: Teaser 2

Marks

This one is one of my earliest Damirae fics too. It has been in my WIP graveyard the longest. Planned to be a 3 parter.

SMUT heavy, so heavy that I had a burnout.

Not a happy ending.

But by technicality it is, because I decided to show alternate worlds.

Damian has an arm sleeve tattoo.

Raven goes to college.

They met because Damian saved the damsel (in distress) on the streets of Gotham.

First And Last

AU is actually in Gods and Monsters wherein Bekka is Wonderwoman and Superman is Hernnan.

The first part was posted, for reference: FIRST 

This is a 3 parter, that obviously never finished.

This actually has the first most unique proposal I ever thought of and I think about it now and then.

[illiana-mystery]

WIP Whenever

Since I haven't been posting as frequently as I would like, I decided to post some more WIPS. These wips are from Cloud 9, Space Oddity, Sugar Baby, and Playing House.

Also I am also currently drafting the next chapter of Devotion and two one-shot (or two-shot, depending on length and description) fics.

So without further ado, here's what I've been working on. @ghnaim24

---

Cloud 9

Author's Note: Goblin is speaking where the text is bold and italicized.

A few hours later.

What are you waiting for? Call her. Let's get this over with.

Norman didn't heed the advice though. Instead, he just kept pacing back and forth in his bedroom, trying to figure out a way out of this mess. A way that didn't involve breaking up with her via video chat.

It was just the way he was. Bold one minute, and then frightened the next. He was like that with Deja earlier, and he was returning to that state now.

He didn't really understand why he was being like this. In the past, he had all of the control over Lorraina, but now it seemed as if the tables had turned.

And they had.

His reputation was in slow repair, while hers had dramatically changed due to her progeny and marriage into a well known and beloved family.

Honestly, he envied her. She didn't deserve this happily ever after she got, even if she clearly wasn't happy with her husband anymore. But no one in Georgia knew her past, so she was still secure unlike him. She did slander his name, well according to Deja anyway.

But yet, here he was. Still chasing her.

Was it because she was something he knew?

Something he could still attain from his troubled past?

Maybe so. But again, she wasn't the same mouthy, rude 20-something year old Daily Bugle reporter now. No, she was older, slightly wiser, and even more jaded with a soft touch of wisdom on her almost 50-year old skin. She didn't have the youth he so desperately wanted anymore, so what was the point?

What did she have to offer other than acknowledging his past life?

Clear realization came to him once he thought about all of those factors. It hit him like a bolt of lightening and he finally snapped out of it.

He realized he really didn't love her anymore and that she used him as much as he used her.

It was a toxic relationship. A relationship that was better off left in the past.

You finally came around. Took you long enough. Now call her, you coward. Or I will.

"I still need to figure out how to break up with her easily."

What is there to figure out?! You don't love her anymore, if you ever did. She doesn't do anything for us, she's mouthy, doesn't worship or obey us. She was nothing but trouble, only good for her youth and she doesn't even have that anymore. She was a good fuck that needs to stay in your past. Besides, you're all fascinated with that little floozy at the airport now. Hmm, your heart beat just intensified at the thought of her.

"She's not some floozy," he retorted. "She's a beautiful and educated young lady."

Yeah, whatever. Girls like her are a dime a dozen. I wouldn't fall in love just yet, Romeo. We still don't know if we can trust her. Is she even aware I'm still here?

"No, and I intend to keep it that way."

You can't hide me forever, Norman. We are one, always will be. You can't get rid of me. She's just gonna have to learn to deal if heaven forbid you keep this fascination with her.

"It's not a fascination," he corrected. "It's a blossoming crush right now. But I think it will become more in the near future. I mean she did give me her number."

That doesn't mean anything. Still, she does seem to be better than Lorraina already. Hmm, maybe she'll actually worship and praise us as her new god. Maybe she'll obey and not sass us.

"I don't want to control her, and I won't let you do that."

Like you'll be able to stop me. And don't lie to yourself. Imagine her praising your name as you fuck her long and hard. Imagine her suck your cock as the carpet digs into her burning ebony flesh. It feels good, doesn't it? You're weak, Norman. I'm only trying to help. I mean we should be able to get something out of her, right?

Norman rolled his eyes and shook the thoughts Goblin suggested to his subconscious out of his mind.

He didn't want to think about Deja that way. He didn't see her as a sex object. He saw her as a potential equal intimate partner, as a woman that he just wanted to kiss and cuddle even more than fuck her.

"I'm gonna call Lorraina now," he said before his head started to throb. In an instant, he fell to his knees, dropping his iPhone on the carpet in the process.

Instinctively, he rubbed his head to numb the pain before a manicial laugh left his throat.

Norman was gone now, and Goblin was gonna handle Lorraina like he wanted to.

"Sit tight, Norman. I'll handle this bitch. I just wanted to see if you had the guts to call her."

Carefully, Goblin picked the phone and himself up, gleefully watching as the black screen slowly revealed a lingerie-clad Lorraina in her bedroom.

She was lounging in her bed, with her legs open revealing the sheer panties she was wearing while her large breasts were about to spill out of the lingerie top. Her butt was also poked out and she sexily bit her lip like in the past when she saw him.

"Hello, handsome. It's about time you called me. I was about to call you," she cooed before she noticed the twisted smile and darkness in his eyes. It frightened her, until she realized what was going on.

She wasn't talking to Norman. She was talking to Goblin.

"Bring him back," she demanded.

"What do you mean?" he asked trying to mimic Norman's normal tone of voice.

"You know what I mean you asshole! Bring my Norman back!"

"I'm afraid Norman's on sabbatical, my dear. He needed to rest his head. It's been a long day for him, so I thought I would help him out. Help him get rid of a past pest, you know?"

"What are you..."

"Does your husband now you're trying to pursue him again? Because Giulio must be an idiot if he doesn't know."

"How do you know my husband's name?"

He snickered.

"Didn't even hesitate. Guess he doesn't know then. Wow, you really like breaking hearts, don't you, Lorraina? You think it's so cute. And it kinda was, when you were young and vibrant. But look at you now. Old and worn out, outclassed by your gorgeous, young daughter. It's not cute anymore, Lorraina. It really isn't."

"Bring Norman back. I want to talk to him," she demanded.

"Shut the fuck up, whore," he yelled at her, anger deep in his eyes. "I don't let whores backtalking me. Now Norman might tolerate that, but not me. You don't talk to me like that les you want to see what I'm truly capable of. I'm not afraid to mutilate a woman."

His words horrified her, to the point she was stunned silent, which delighted Goblin.

"Good. Finally, the whore listens and shuts her mouth. Now listen up and listen good, you'll lose this number and never contact us again. Norman's done with you. He's done with your lying and attitude and clout chasing ways. He doesn't love you anymore. And if you ever try to contact us again, I won't be so nice. Got it?!"

The only response he received back was a nod, before the video chat was ended. His devious smirk curled into an even more sinister smile before he let out another wicked chuckle.

Finally, he was rid of Lorraina so Norman could focus on bettering his reputation and rebuilding his legacy through Oscorp. After all, that was the prime objective. The last thing he needed was more distractions.

Although Deja was starting to become one.

But he would bide his time, seeing what to do with her. However, now it was time for him to reluctantly release control back to his cowardly host again.

"Oww, ugh," Norman cried out in pain as he rubbed his head again.

His headache throbbed even more than at the airport when Goblin raised his ugly head earlier, much to his chagrin.

Luckily, Bernard was around and when he heard his Master, he quickly came into his room with an ice compress for his head.

"Thanks, Bernard," he said as he took it from his butler and placed it on his head.

"You're welcome, Master Osborn, but might I also suggest some rest? You look quite tired, sir. Maybe that will help your headache go away too."

"You know what? That's a great idea. Thank you."

"Of course, sir," the old servant said before he left Norman alone with his thoughts and other half.

Finally, the Master retired to his bed, stripped bare to only his tight briefs and the ice compress on his forehead.

A slight peace came to his mind too once his head hit his pillow, until he remembered blacking out before calling Lorraina, which meant that Goblin must have talked to her for him.

The thought made him panic. Sure he wasn't interested in her anymore, but he didn't want Goblin to hurt her too bad. He still did have a soft spot for her, regardless of all the shit she put him through in the past.

Calm down, Norman. Relax, take a nap. I can feel the tension in your body.

"What do you tell her?"

I beg your pardon.

"What did you tell her?!"

I let her down easy, like you said. Promise. And you never have to worry about her bothering you again. I think I made her get the hint.

"But how did you say it? Like..."

Why don't you text Deja? See what she's up to? Think about your new conquest. The pretty little black woman on your arm. Doesn't that sound nice?

"Yeah, it does," he moaned as he reached for his phone that he left on the nightstand. "But what should I say?"

Did you really just ask me that? Pathetic. Stop being a little bitch and just talk to her. You already have power over her, you just have to keep charming her. She seems to like your sad vulnerability, emote that more. Then she's be wrapped around your finger. Then she'll only be reliant and loyal to you. Or else.

"Right," he said before exhaling a deep breath. "I just hope she responds quickly."

---

Space Oddity

After lunch, you and Saaltar had to split up again much to his disappointment. But you had two more classes to attend, and he had his two to attempt to teach. So reluctantly, he let you go without a hug or a kiss to not alarm suspicion.

But just as you, he was anticipating seeing you again at the front of the university where you told him to meet you.

However, unfortunately for him, he had to wait a little longer than planned due Professor Homer Finnbar letting your Advanced Calculus class out late.

It was a nasty little habit that the older professor had, but you hoped today would be different. Too bad it wasn't. So you just hoped Saaltar wouldn't be too upset when you got there.

Luckily, to your utter surprise, you found Saaltar playing with a little sand lizard that must have been scurrying near his feet. The alien was standing on his knees while he patiently waited for the creature to climb on his palm. Not a second sooner, the lizard got the hint and did as the humanoid wanted bringing a wide smile to his face.

"Now what are you, you fascinating little creature?"

"It's a sand lizard," you said, slowly meeting the eyes of your love. "They're called Pandora Lizards to be exact. They're called such since they like to burrow in holes that are usually occupied by little insects, hence opening a 'box' that let out vermin."

Saaltar just smiled, although you could tell he was a bit confused. So you quickly explained the myth of Pandora's box. He gave you his usual nod after then went back to observing the lizard.

"I like him..."

"I think you mean her. Male Pandora lizards have brownish-green heads, females have just brown. They make really fun pets. I used to have one as a child."

"Would you like to hold her?" he excitedly asked.

You giggled.

"Sure," you replied before he carefully handed her to you. You tried to be as careful as possible since the creature was in its adolescence and much smaller than Megeara, your old pet.

"This is a young lizard. I've never handled one so small. My Pandora Lizard was an adult named Megeara. She was my best friend, my last birthday gift from my mother before she passed. I had her for about 12 years."

"Wow, a long living little creature then."

"Yeah, they have the longest lifespan of any lizard in this part of the country," you said as you put the reptile back on the ground. "She probably is looking for her mommy though. So I'll let her free."

"That was probably the right thing to do," he said as he watched the creature disappear into the bushes. "I'm happy to see you again."

"Me too," you chirped. "I'm ready to go, if you are."

"I'm ready, but I want to go behind a tree first."

"Behind a...," you questioned before you realized what he said. "You really can't wait to kiss me again, huh?"

He shook his head.

"Okay, okay. Let's go behind a tree," you replied before you led him to the nearest one around.

You looked around to make sure the coast was clear and then you intitated the kiss. Softly, you grabbed his suit and pulled him closer to you as your lips connected. Fabric was soon let go after and then your arms coiled around his neck as his hands clutched your hips.

You were both practically humming into this kiss, quickly deepening it with the connection of tongue.

Then you pulled away, simply admiring how cute Saaltar was with his red flushed cheeks and happy grin.

"There, now let's go," you said. "I promise you they'll be more to come once we're alone and you can shed that meat suit."

"I can't wait," he happily said.

It was a straight shoot from the tree to the parking lot where his disguise spaceship was stationed.

As he said, the craft was now a mint green Chrysler convertible that comfortably seated four people with its beautiful accent mint and white leather seats.

Like the gentleman he was, he opened the passenger door for you before getting in on the driver's side.

"Do you know how to drive?" you curiously asked.

"Since my spacecraft takes me where I want to go, it does the driving for me even in this camouflage. And under the hood is all of the Keitalean technology that powers it. I just keep my hands on the wheel to not frighten any other motorist."

"Oh wow. That's cool and really smart. Wow, alien technology is amazing."

Saaltar smiled before he took your hand and kissed it. After, he punched in the coordinates for the motel he was staying at and then let the tech do the work.

You were in awe of this self-driving car which was so entertaining to your alien lover. He really could never get enough of you being intrigued by what Keitalea offered both technologically and anatomically.

And soon, you realized where you were going. The car was driving you into the unincorporated part of the town where no one stayed. It was practically no man's land except for the one convenience store and the lone motel you realized he was staying at.

The Stargazer Inn was said motel and it boasted both your typical motel outdoor layout as well as the more expensive "Stargazing Huts" that lined the back of the establishment.

The huts were basically tiny homes that were painted dazzling white and had all of the comforts of a regular home just in a smaller package. They usually were always sold out by wealthy visitors, so you only had the chance to stay in one once with your father to watch a solar eclipse.

You figured Saaltar wasn't staying in one of those though. Especially since he parked right in front of one of the doors of the usual layout.

"Welcome to my temporary home," he said as he got out of the car and walked over to let you out. "Room 122."

"Oh, you're staying here. Man, I haven't stayed here since my father was still alive," you said as you noticed him take his key out to let you into the room. "We watched a solar eclipse in one of the huts out back. People from all over the country come here to watch the stars, eclipses, and the occasional aurora borealis."

"I know," he softly said as he unlocked the door and let you in. "That's why I chose to stay here. Makes me feel closer to home."

"That's so poetic," you cooed after he closed the door behind you.

He flicked the light on afterwards and you soon admired how clean and spotless his room was. The little possessions he had were put away neatly and every surface was basically shining.

Honestly, it was the cleanest, nicest motel room you had ever seen.

"You really like to keep a clean home," you complimented him. "It's practically sparkling in here."

"Thank you," he said with a soft chuckle. "It was much too dirty for my liking when I first moved in so I used some cleaners from the convenience store as well as my powers to clean up around here. So I'm happy you appreciate my hard work."

"More than appreciate it. I'm honestly impressed by it," you assured as the blush on his face became even redder.

"I'm kinda sad to leave, but I'm glad I get to stay with you."

"I agree. Now how can I help?"

---

Sugar Baby

Back at the manor, the couple's anticipated guest was finishing up getting ready in the bedroom she now shared with her sugar daddy.

Said daddy had just stepped away after he helped her pick out a little blue cocktail dress that was just low cut enough to show off her nape.

Happily, she put it on after he left and was now donning on some light makeup. A bright smile beamed from the vanity mirror, becoming bigger as she noticed her older lover strolling back over to her.

"You look beautiful, Alia," he cooed as his arms enveloped her waist. His lips gingerly traced her jaw and neck afterwards, gaining a sweet little giggle from her.

"Thank you, Eddie," she chirped before her eyes met his. He was practically worshipping her beauty by how he was looking at her. His ocean blues just taking in all of her ebony.

"I don't know if I want to let you leave anymore," he teased as he kissed her bare shoulder. "I don't want anyone else looking at you...getting any ideas."

His grip around her waist got tighter after that, asserting his possession of her. She was his and he hoped she would remember that.

"Even if they do look, I wouldn't give them the time of day. They're not worthy of me, like you are. They can't give me the same love and affection that you do. I know that to be true. My heart only belongs to you, Eddie," she assured him. "Besides, it's just a little get together with two friends and my guy friend knows I only see him as such."

Ed didn't look convinced though, especially since he did start to question who her friends were after Malcolm interrogated her at the table.

"Eddie, just trust me," she begged after she broke away from his grip. "I would never hurt you. I promise."

He didn't respond though, instead he walked over to her nightstand and grabbed her purse and phone she left. Then he briskly walked back over by her.

"Don't forget your stuff," he softly said before she took them from him.

"Thanks," she said before she kissed his cheek. He blushed before digging into his pocket and taking out a black box.

"I can't have you going out with a bare neck," he said before he opened the box. Inside was a beautiful opal teardrop pendent that shone under his bedroom light. Alicia was in awe of the stone and watched as Ed took it out and opened the clasp.

He stepped behind her soon after and placed it around her neck and her hand moved to gently touch it. It was smooth to the touch and really did add to her look.

"Ed, did you buy this for me?"

"No, this is more sentimental than a store bought piece," he began to explain. "This is the Agnes Opal. It's been in my family for generations. It belonged to my bisnonna, Agnes Carmine, made for her by her father who was the town jewelry back in Milan. Ever since her death, the opal has been passed down to the eldest daughter. Well, since I'm an only child, my mother didn't have a daughter to pass it on to. So she gave it to me before she died and told me to give it to the worthy woman in my life. I know we just met, but it just feels right to give you this to you."

"Wow, you're entrusting me with a family heirloom?"

"I think you're worthy," he said before grinning at her.

"Oh, Eddie," she said trying to hold back tears. "You're too sweet. Thank you. I'll protect this with all my heart. I promise."

She hugged him afterwards.

"You're very welcome, Alia," he said before checking his watch. It was a quarter til she was expected at the get together, so he decided to go ahead and call Reginald to bring her.

"I should probably call Reginald now," he announced. "I'll be back."

He stepped out of the room again after, so Alicia decided it was the perfect time to check her phone.

To her horror, though, Lou had called and texted her multiple times within the span of an hour. She wondered if something was wrong, but she knew that she couldn't call him right now. So instead, she went to her messaging app and replied,

Sorry Lou. I got a little caught up in some morning chores and running errands. And I forgot to answer you back. I hope you're okay. I can't wait to see you tonight either.

Ed walked back right when she was wrapping up typing out her text, and he noticed her frantically typing which confused him. But he didn't question her about it.

"Reginald will be here in 5," he said as he walked back over to her. She quickly put her phone away and let him kiss her again before he grabbed her hands and looked at her with deep concern on his eyes.

"Alia," he said before he took a deep breath. "Please keep in contact with me throughout the night. That's all I ask of you. I want you to have so much fun with your friends, but please keep me posted. Your wellbeing and safety are of the most importance to me."

He slowly caressed her face after, then placed another kiss on her lips.

"I can definitely do that," she chirped before her phone vibrated in her purse. Ed looked at her puzzled before she said,

"It's just my friend again. I'll get it in a minute."

He smirked.

"You want me to kiss you again before we part?"

"Of course," she cooed before he gave her what she wanted.

"Come, let's go back downstairs and wait for Reginald."

---

Playing House

"I'm so sorry about Mama," Loretta told the old man as he sat next to her in the moving truck. The driver had remained silent, just focusing on the road so she figured he probably wouldn't be listening to their conversation.

"It's alright," he lightly said. "I know she meant no real harm. I needed to hear that. And I know where she's coming from. She doesn't want Mac to be fatherless like you were."

"I wasn't fatherless, Mr. Ed. I had you."

"Yes, you had me...a white man. But even I couldn't always protect you and I didn't know how to teach you the way that your own father could have."

"I don't care. You helped take care of me. That means the world to me."

"I appreciate it, Etta," he said with a warm smile. "Miss Mae just wants to do right by you. She's lived a hard life. I can't tell you how surprised she was by Viv and my kindness. No other white family treated her with such dignity. It's ashame so many Southerners like her believe that the North is so much better. We have a lot of backwardness here too. I'm glad we gave her a nice home though. And I'm glad that she got to raise you around some happiness and stability."

Loretta smiled too.

"I just wish she wasn't so blind to the obvious that's right in front of her."

"What do you mean?" she asked as she looked up at him.

"I know about you and Jamie," he said with a slight chuckle. Loretta's heart stopped when he said that.

She kept a horrified look on her face until she noticed his smile never faded.

"Jamie doesn't have the best poker face. And it was even more obvious by the way he was looking at you at the repass and end of the funeral. Also, Wanda was a bit too similar to you all the way down to having the same birthday. But Wanda was safe and white. My son isn't able to fool me, Etta. It's been obvious since you were teenagers that he liked you. I just didn't think you liked him back, but I guess I know that too now."

"You're not upset?"

"No, not at all. I'm not your mother. I want Mac to have a good father figure in his life too, but I don't mind if that happens to be my son. That's why I wanted to stop her earlier. But I know you wouldn't want me to tell her, so I stopped myself. Times are changing and I like you, Etta. You two have my blessing."

Loretta felt so warm knowing that Mr. Ed actually didn't mind her pursuing his son. She figured he could tell that he didn't like Wanda as much as he let on. Sure he cared about her, but as he said, she was safe because she was white. And it was apparent that Ed was getting attached to Mac.

"Thanks, Mr. Ed," she softly said. "I was actually thinking about moving in with him this summer."

"You're thinking about moving to Chicago?"

"Yeah, is that crazy?"

"No, not at all. I'm not gonna baby you, Etta. You're an adult woman that needs to live her life. Maybe a change in scenery is exactly what you and Mac need. I'm gonna miss little man, but I can always visit. I am retired now after all. And I know I can't stop you and my son from being together. I should have seen it coming earlier. You two were always attached at the hip. I wish Viv was here to see this too. She would be over the moon. All she ever wished for was for her son to be so happily in love and I think he is with you."

Loretta slightly giggled with joy before she asked,

"Since when has Mac started calling you 'Paw-paw'?"

"Only today. He did when you left. He called Miss Mae 'Maw-maw' now too."

"Aww. He still hasn't called me 'Ma-ma' yet."

"Give him time. It's no diss to you. I've seen how he looks at you and I see nothing but pure love. Reminds me so much of Jamie when he was a baby. The way he looked at Viv always warmed my heart."

"I hope I'm at least half the mother that Viv was."

"You already are."

Loretta smiled again.

"I still want him to know about Marvin. I guess I should show him the photo album Jamie put together."

"That's a great place to start."

"Excuse me, ma'am," the driver politely interrupted. "Is this the house?"

His question drew Loretta's attention immediately to directly in front of her and what she saw horrified her.

Her monster-in-law, Patricia, was standing outside of the family home that Marvin and her lived in. But not only that. No, there were also boxes littering the front of the house and men moving old furniture into a donation truck.

Angrily, Loretta got out of the moving truck once the driver parked it on the side the house to confront her mother-in-law. She never liked that woman and she was glad that Marvin wasn't here to stop her from speaking her mind against her now.

"Oh, there you are," Patricia remarked once she saw her daughter-in-law. She folded her arms afterwards and kept a pout on her old, wrinkled lips.

She was always a bitter woman, but considered gorgeous back in her day due to her fair skin that contrasted well with her black features.

"What the hell are you doing?!" Loretta angrily asked.

"Cleaning out our family home," the older woman responded. "I told you to get your things last week."

"I was planning your son's funeral," Loretta retorted. "I didn't have time."

"Excuses, excuses," she huffed before Loretta noticed the furniture that she bought in the back of the truck.

"That's my furniture," she exclaimed.

"It isn't anymore," Patricia rebutted. "Everything that you need to retrieve is right here. Also, I'm doing you a favor. I can't believe my son would let you buy this ugly furniture. I raised him better than that. Just get your rich white boss to replace everything for you."

Loretta's blood was boiling at that moment and before she could really process her emotions, she lunged at her mother-in-law. But luckily, Mr. Ed stopped her. He gently pulled her back before whispering,

"It isn't worth it. It isn't worth it."

Loretta immediately backed down, giving Patricia a little bit more ammo as a smug smile appeared on her face.

"Oh, speak of the devil," she said with a snicker. "You just couldn't face me without your rich white boss. Typical. You and your mother are always relying on them. It's sad really. You two really should have tried to make your own way like me and my darling Richard."

Mr. Ed was not amused.

"Patricia, we would like that furniture back."

"Oh, Edward," she started. "Now what would Vivian say? You're really gonna take from the poor and unfortunate? Don't they deserve nice, expensive, hideous furniture?"

"Patricia, we want the furniture back and we're not leaving until we get it," he sternly said. "Look, I don't want to cause any conflict, but I can have the police involved."

"Typical behavior from a privileged white man," she moaned. "Fine, you can have the furniture back. But I want you off of my property in an hour. Get everything and beat it. And I hope to never see you again after today."

"The feeling is mutual, you old bitch," Loretta huffed. "You're just mad that your precious son settled for a poor black woman like me. A poor black woman that was much too dark for your liking."

Patricia glared at her when she said that.

"Marvin could have done a lot better...I told him as such. Because I knew you didn't really love him. You never did. But he was safe...unlike Jamie Blackridge. That's why I never liked you. You just used my son like the cold bitch you are. Oh, sweetie. I'm not the bitch, you are. You always have been. You fooled my son and took him away from me..."

"That's enough, Patricia," Mr. Ed yelled. "Let us be. And don't you utter my son's name again. Trust me, we're glad to be done with you too. I can't tell you how many times I had to restrain myself from choking you. I will not let you disrespect Etta again. Also, for your information, she did love Marvin. She loved him so much that she had to get me to help pay for his funeral which you and your kin didn't even help to pitch in."

Patricia was furious, but finally admitted defeat and left in her Bentley coup, leaving them with the moving truck driver and the donation truck workers.

Loretta immediately started crying afterwards, falling into Mr. Ed's arms as he tried to comfort her.

"It's alright. She's gone and you don't ever have to see her again. She's always been a bitter old bitch."

"I know, Mr. Ed. But I just wish I would have stood up for myself on my own."

"Loretta, you did stand up for yourself. I'm proud of you."

"Thanks, Mr. Ed," she softly said as she hugged him again.

Mr. Ed let the donation truck workers keep the furniture per Loretta's request after she thought it through. And once they left, they took all of the boxes and put it in the moving truck.

But there was one more box that was hidden from their view that the driver noticed. Loretta went to get it and noticed that on top of the pile of stuff was an old wedding picture.

The glass had unfortunately cracked, leaving a long split between her and Marvin in the photo. But the glass remained intact on the other side where Ed was standing next to her.

It was a photo they took at the reception. Ed insisted on taking a picture with the happy couple alone after Loretta and Mr. Ed took their pictures with him as a group.

Loretta quickly obliged, much to Marvin's dismay.

She couldn't help but smile at the picture though. Ed was just too cute, smiling brighter than her. She knew he wished he was in Marvin's shoes at the time, but he was still happy for her.

"Something wrong," Mr. Ed asked as he walked up behind her.

"No. I just had a moment," she said before she handed the frame to him. "Look at your son."

The senior laughed.

"He was quite jealous," he started. "I could see it in his eyes. But he kept a straight face the whole time. He really was happy for you though. But then again, he was always a fan of seeing you smile."

"So you've known this for longer than you let on?"

"Maybe I did, maybe I didn't," he cooed. "But I think the Lord has a sense of humor. Strange that the glass only cracked here."

"Yeah, it surprised me too."

"Well, we can reflect on it more later," he said as he put the picture back and took the box. "We gotta go pick up Malcolm and head back. I know Jamie will be dying to talk to you after his big meeting."

Loretta only smiled in response.

---

I tag @imwithyoutiltheendofthelinebucky, @eclecticwildflowers, and @writingkitten

[imtrashraccoon]

Thanks for the tag @snowcoffeee ! I'm all too happy to talk about my favourite hobby!

1. How many works do you have on AO3?

At the moment, I have six.

2. What’s your total AO3 word count?

281,816. Yikes, I didn't even know this was a statistic until now.

3. What fandoms do you write for?

Just Undertale right now.

4. What are your top 5 fics by kudos?

Have Some Empathy, Dear - the series I did for Bad Sansuary.

The Hand We've Been Dealt - the first fic I posted on AO3.

Swarmed By Sirens - the most recent fic I'm working on.

The Nightmare of Apathy - my pet project.

Raccoon's Undertale Related Oneshots - this one shouldn't really count as it's just a collection of my works.

5. Do you respond to comments? Why or why not?

Every single one! I really enjoy engaging with the people who like my work and it gives me ideas.

6. What is the fic you wrote with the angstiest ending?

Oof, I don't like angsty endings so I can't say that I have any. In the past, I wrote a oneshot with one of my OC's in Horrortale though. That was...angsty. It's also really bad compared to what I write now lol. I don't think I'll ever post it.

7. What’s the fic you wrote with the happiest ending?

At the moment, Have Some Empathy, Dear is the only complete fic. So that one.

8. Do you get hate on fics?

No, at least I haven't yet. I did get one comment ages ago where someone was annoyed that Korinna (MC from The Hand We've Been Dealt) just went to live with the Fell brothers after they killed her when she was a human. She didn't know that it was them though, so the comment didn't make sense? Admittedly, the plot for that fic is a bit weak...

9. Do you write smut? If so, what kind?

Nah, I've been tempted to, but I'm not comfortable making that sort of thing. I allow minors to follow me anyways, so if I did, that would have to change.

10. Do you write crossovers? What’s the craziest one you’ve written?

AU's don't count as a crossover I suppose. So, no, I don't write crossovers.

11. Have you ever had a fic stolen?

Not that I'm aware of?

12. Have you ever had a fic translated?

No, but I'd be honoured if anyone wanted to!

13. Have you ever co-written a fic before?

Again, no. I have chatted with friends about fic plots but never for the purpose of creating something together. That could be fun!

14. What’s your all time favourite ship?

I'm more of a self-shipper and pretty much always have been OC x Canon as well. I do like Soriel. The way some people write their dynamic is adorable and even if they aren't in a relationship, I love seeing their friendship. I don't really ship anything else though.

15. What’s a WIP you want to finish but doubt you ever will?

Pretty much everything with my old Undertale OC's and my old Star Wars OC. My reasons are that I've changed my interests and created better characters now. I'm not entirely opposed to ever posting these online but the state that they're in at the moment makes me cringe.

16. What are your writing strengths?

Definitely describing environments and worldbuilding. I have a strong imagination and so whenever I write a scene I try to put myself in the character's position and describe what they see. Worldbuilding is also enjoyable since it gets my brain working.

17. What are your writing weaknesses?

Dialogue. I struggle to make characters sound natural at times and my earlier writing suffers lot from stiff dialogue.

18. Thoughts on writing dialogue in another language in fic?

I love this! I don't really know any other languages myself so my own attempts are limited, however I love seeing it in other people's works. I do like to include ASL where I can since it's a language I have some familiarity with.

19. First fandom you wrote for?

Star Wars actually. I had a Jedi turned Sith character in a years long message board roleplay and multiple times I attempted to write down a backstory for her but I never finished. After being convinced to join the Sith, she was an Inquisitor for a bit before being promoted to Sith Lady and training a few apprentices. She briefly became Sith Empress but stepped down when the war with a faction of Mandalorians turned ugly. She hasn't been seen or heard from since... Yeah, no, I just lost interest in the character and SW in general with Disney's takeover.

20. Favourite fic you’ve written?

I love pretty much all of them! I think my favourite is Have Some Empathy, Dear but I do wish I had more time to flesh parts of it out at the time. Otherwise, it's The Nightmare of Apathy.