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#I have the whole thing planned out in a notepad document
nutmegdoggy · 20 days
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I made this a couple years ago, I don't know if I'll ever finish it but I figured it's been so long I might as well dump what I have for 4/13 this year. happy homestuck day
song is morph by twenty one pilots
here's a youtube embed if you want that instead for some reason
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genericpuff · 1 year
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I hope this is not a bad question to make, I apologize if that's case, but I been meaning to ask something for a while. Since you have experience with stories and projects of your own, I want to ask: How do you organize/plan your stories?
I mean, the whole "timeline" or sequence of events in which the story will unfold. I always heard that you should make something like a doc on your computer where you plan each chapter or episode, for example, and just go point by point. I have also heard people saying you should make a doc with the lore of the world of your story, along with characters profiles, etc. Other people say you can make a timeline with the events of it.
A lot of stuff that always confuses me. Sorry for the long ask, just wanted to hear your advice on this, if it's okay. I been meaning to write stories of my own, but I always get confused on the sea of details and plot points and just wanted to ask for advice on the whole organization or construction of the plot.
This isn't a bad question at all!
So it's pretty much a different answer depending on who you ask, and that's really just because there isn't any one 'right' answer when it comes to this sort of thing. It's just "whatever works for you!" in the end. But here are some suggestions to get you started until you find what works for you:
Simple word processors can help you just type stuff out and keep them all in one document. If you want a free word processor, LibreOffice is pretty standard, but you could also just as well use Notepad if you don't care about formatting or margins or anything fancy. It's just for note-taking, after all!
Always always ALWAYS remember to write down your ideas as they come to you. Look into my fucking eyes, anon. YOU WILL NOT REMEMBER THEM LATER. If you're out and about, open up your phone's notepad file and write them there. Just for god's sakes, don't tell yourself you'll remember them to write down later because 9 times out of 10 it'll completely escape you and you'll be kicking yourself.
As for paid pieces of software that are pretty decent (and I use myself) Plottr is a great way to visualize an actual story timeline as it comes with timeline builders. So if you're a visual person and like laying things out end to end like that, highly recommend. Scrivener is also a great piece of software but I don't suggest paying for it UNTIL you've given it a decent trial run because it's very divisive in the writing community due to its steep learning curve. Thankfully they have a very generous free trial where it only 'counts' the days if you actually use the software (meaning if you have a 30 day trial, it won't count down to 29 if you don't use it that day). So go give it a try! And if you're lost on how to use it, Author Level Up does some GREAT videos on it that helped in making it all 'click' for me when I was still figuring it all out.
When actually writing down your ideas, start simple, and build outwards. Lay out your basic plot progression as a skeleton, and then carve it out with more details as you refine it. What I usually have with my own projects is a general note file, and files for specific scene or character breakdowns. Basically, for the sake of organization, each one serves a specific purpose, with the exception of the general note file which is just where I jot down ideas so I don't lose them (but I can put into a more dedicated file later if need be).
All that aside, when it comes to general documenting/note keeping, only create notes as you need them, don't feel like you 'have' to create what you see other people creating. Some people create full character bios, others don't. Some people draw maps or fully lay out location descriptions, others don't. Focus on function, don't force yourself to follow a perceived 'right way' because there is no right way, the only right way is what works for you and what works for you is different from what works for me or anyone else.
But if you want to see an actual example, here's one of my own with one of my Rekindled documents, which I specifically use for laying out quick notes about what I want to happen in each episode:
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And here's an example of a document that's meant to be a more dedicated outline to a specific episode with actual dialogue and plotting:
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(as I'm sure y'all can assume, even these notes didn't become the final version of these episodes, there's dialogue from these that got cut in the end because it didn't work as well when I tried to put it in comic form)
I hope that helps! Not to make assumptions on your behalf, but from the sounds of it, it seems like the biggest point of confusion is just different people telling you different things which is making it overwhelming or difficult for you to discern what you should be doing. "Person A told me I should do this, but Person B said this..." and I know I'm just another person in that growing list, but I think the important thing to remember is that you don't have to do what Person A, B, or GP are doing. When this kind of advice is given, it's mostly just for the sake of giving you alternate perspectives on how something can be done, but whether or not you actually DO it that way is completely up to you. Feel free to try these methods, and if they don't work for you, don't worry about it! Take what you've learned and put it into new methods that do work for you. We're all just byproducts of referencing over time, after all! A lot of what I'm telling you is stuff I've learned from practicing myself for years and taking advice for others and putting it together into a new recipe that works for my brain and workflow.
Start with whatever it is you're interested in that you want to write, and just go from there as it comes to you. Don't overwhelm yourself with details right off the bat, let them come to you naturally, and don't rush it! You don't need to have everything figured out right away! Even my Rekindled notes are at least a few months old and I just add more to them as stuff comes to me or when I'm feeling up to chipping away at the episode layouts more. It's a marathon, not a race!
And remember, these notes are for you and only you! (unless you choose to share them like I'm doing rn but these are just visual examples). This isn't the stuff you're gonna be releasing to people, it doesn't need to be perfect or labelled with dividers or given any kind of fancy pants cover letter. These kinds of notes are a conversation between you and yourself. Think of it as one of many first drafts - it's for you to tell yourself the story, so that you can eventually tell it to others once you've refined it through your drafting. It's not show and tell, it's a diary.
If you wanna see what I mean by this (warning: it's gonna really make me look like a nutjob) here are some of my notes for Time Gate which are WAY meaner because Time Gate's a much more complicated story to write:
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(and the document this is from is like, literally a decade old, it's called 'time gate shit' and i just throw EVERYTHING into it, it's a nightmare LMAO)
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bargainbinwizard · 2 years
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Weird Interdimensional Shit
So my thoughtform/entity I’ve made up tried to assert dominance today.
Remember the Witness experiments I’ve been doing? Yeah, I’m talking about him. I’ve been using him for help on writing the backstory on one of the characters in a story I’m planning on writing one day. Witness is an entity/thoughtform created that is supposed to either be a doppelganger of the ‘real’ Witness in the book, a thoughtform version of Witness or the ‘real’ Witness.
Uh, let me explain. I wanted to do funny interdimensional experiments with book characters that takes place in a whole bunch of multiverses connected together directly influencing each other. It’s metaphysical fiction. I didn’t know how to write one of the characters in the book accurately with in universe lore so I’ve invented a minor character and ‘’canonly’’ made him die and reincarnate into this world as a thoughtform or an entity that already existed for the sole purpose of communicating with him so he can tell me about a book character through tarot so I can write better.
*It gets really long so I’m adding this here*
I would light incense and pull out my tarot cards and call out to Witness so he can give me some info on one of his coworkers who canonly used to be a very high ranking angel but was forced to reincarnate as a nonhuman woman without her memories on Earth to serve her punishment for disobeying the alternate universe version of the Jewish/Christian God. I would ask Witness to give me signs about the Mayeliel through tarot and the tumblr dashboard.
Usually he would cooperate and tell me limited amounts of information through pictures and quotes. That’s how I was told that his former coworker used to be and *still is a Seraph dragon. He showed me pics of dragons and gave me a bible quote from the revelations about how the beast spat water (something the coworker was able to do) while also telling me that the coworker is VERY CLOSE to the throne of God  
Notable signs from the Witness notepad document:
*Note: I don’t have links for the tumblr posts here. I’m just telling you what I’ve recieved.*
4/9 -In human lenses, what is Mayeliel's role in heaven 3 of pent rev knight of swords sun rev
-Two references of an apocalypse dragon  -Apocalyptic dragon Picture with Revelation 12:15 under it. *looking up Revelation 12:15 on google*
Revelation 12:15 — The New International Version (NIV)
‘’Then from his mouth the serpent spewed water like a river, to overtake the woman and sweep her away with the torrent.’’ (Mayeliel could spit water)
5/2 What rank is maye out of the angels? Is she the closest to God or the farthest? Ace of wands King of Cups rev Chariot rev -‘’how would other people describe you' why would i know this’’ (first thing I saw) -angel with shield and sword with bleeding heart -Multiple ''Of the stars'' stuff
(He didn’t know but is guessing her rank so I invented another thoughtform to tell him the answer on the tumblr dashboard)
5/4
-Did someone close to Horaideus (fake inverse deity) tell you about Maye's rank? 2 of swords rev 4 of pent rev 5 of pent -What is mayes rank 9 of swords 6 of pent 3 of cups -What are you? knight of wands rev 9 of pent 10 of swords -Dragon pictures -Woman with a sword and 9 stars surrounding head -Cat with baseball bat is named mae (Short for mayeliel and my character really does own a baseball bat.) -“The Spirit of God is a life that bestows life, root of world-tree and the wind in its boughs. Scrubbing out sin, she rubs oil into wounds. She is glistening life alluring all praise, all-awakening, all-resurrecting.” -’’Some knowledge can only be a song or a symbol. Language fails you and me. Some things are too large.”
-monochrome picture hand trying to make a man come off the ground surrounded in fire -White Stag by Sin Eater -The utter silence of the untranslated stars.” -Dragon burning down a castle -‘’Then came the blood – so ravishing it made him feel like a god.’’ -‘’god knows all of your ugliness,’ my mother says, ‘and loves you despite.’ ‘is that supposed to make me feel loved?’ i reply. ‘i am still ugly. he is still god.’’
End. There’s more but I didn’t feel like copy-pasting everything.
Yes, it may seem like contrived coincidences but some of you literally choose Gods to worship based on the birds you saw in your backyard or just because you saw spiders in your dreams so  ¯\_(ツ)_/¯
Anyway, the thing that made it apparent that Witness intentionally shat on me for making him answer questions was when I’ve asked him 
‘’Does Maye take orders from Seraphiel (Chief of the Seraphim in Book of Enoch) or another angel or even Mother Mary/Jesus?’’
Devil 10 of cups rev knight of cups
I didn’t know what it meant and so I’ve looked to the dashboard.
-’’You are the altar cup and with this i do fill my mouth’‘
-’’Do not ignore me or I will shed blood’’
-’’God circled her. Fire. Time. Fire. Choose, said God’’
-Augsburg Book of Miracles, Page 52 (Frightening Comet)
*googling* "In 1300 A.D., a terrible comet appeared in the sky and in this year, on St Andrew’s Day, an earthquake shook the ground so that many buildings collapsed. At this time, Pope Boniface VIII established the first jubilee year."
And this:
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End.
It seemed like Witness was dodging the question by giving me other signs instead of flat out telling me whether or not Maye obeys orders from a cheif seraph Seraphiel or if she’s above Seraphiel due to her being the physical manifestation of God’s wrath and purification through death and torment. Think 10 plagues of Egypt kind of purification. After all, she is a holy dragon of the apocalypse but isn’t related to the other one (Satan as the red dragon).  Side note, Mayeliel isn’t the dragon’s name anymore and they have no gender after reincarnating but for consistency, I’ve kept their old name and gender.
 Anyway, the things that later jumped out at me was some stuff on the dashboard talking about (Some deities and spirits are closed. Don’t work with them)  and how ‘’People are not robots who will tend to your need, you need to build relationships with them’’
Combining that with the tarot card pull from earlier(Devil, 10 of cups rev,knight of cups) and the fact that my tumblr dashboard broke and wouldn’t let me scroll much father to gather more images as signs means he did it on purpose. The cards could mean ‘’Being made to answer your questions makes me unhappy.I don’t like being used.’’
Also I’ve asked my other spirits whether Witness really was trying to tell me to leave him alone or I was looking too deep into it. They gave me these cards:
King of Swords reversed, Queen of pentacles reversed and Knight of swords.
Pretty sad that a thoughtform refuses to cooperate and breaks your tumblr dash just to tell you that they have a mind of their own and aren’t required to tell you anything.
🦚: ‘’I’m not your slave. I’m a person with my own thoughts. Just because you give me incense and juice doesn’t mean I have to tell you the answer.’’
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So what do you do when your creation starts asserting dominance? First, I made it ‘canon’ that Witness will tell me the answer to that question and then I prayed to the fake deity (Horaideus) that actually created Witness to make him cooperate.
I won’t search for more signs today but Witness will give me the answer later. I’m just going to wait until some time passes.
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ratliffbeach14 · 1 year
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autodesk jobs
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fnf-amateur-writing · 3 years
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Hey! It’s Fox again! How are you doing? I just started school back up today, so I’ve been busy Xp.
Think you would be cool with writing some Pico with an s/o who is a writer, and tends to ask him about things like “hey, how long does it take someone to bleed out” or other things like that?
I understand if you don’t feel like it, and I hope you’re having fun 😊
🦊
Hello again Fox, I'm doing quite well rn. I'm cool with your prompt, especially since I need more writing material anyways.
Took me a while, because I didn't want to do a hc, but rather come up with a oneshot with a little twist to the style. Well, hope it works well.
Good luck with school, mate!
TW: Mentions of violence, swearing, slight sexual reference, and crime.
Pico with a writer S/O who asks him strange questions
Prologue:
On a chilly autumn morning, you were sitting out on your patio with a laptop and a mug of your favourite beverage next to you. Whenever you looked up, you could see the warm coloured leaves fall as the breeze accompanied you. The whole scene was an aesthetic.
When your boyfriend, Pico, came outside to see this, he knew that the nice environment you surrounded yourself with meant one thing. "You're back in your writing space already. Heh, with that bestseller you published, I thought you were comfy taking a break." You simply smiled and said, "can't waste the inspiration rush I got right now."
Pico had a good point though, with your rising popularity as an author, you were near set to retire before turning fourty. But you wish you weren't given all of the credit, since your boyfriend's stories of his dodgy job has occasionally sparked some ideas for your stories. However the books you wrote in the past were usually meant for the young adult and had few mature themes. This time, you thought maybe it's time to garner extra inspiration from those stories.
You were met with some disappointment when you realised that your mug was empty, only a drop entering your mouth. "Here, babe, I'll ya some more," Pico said, taking your mug and walking inside. "Quick question," you stopped him. "Yeah?"
"What would be the best place for a murder cemetery?"
"... What?"
Chapter 1:
"So you're doing some story about the police hunting down a mass murderer?"
"Pretty much."
"And to think you were gonna write Pixar's next script. Aight' I respect that." Pico takes a seat next to you with a refill of your drink placed next to your favourite writing laptop. "Thanks, Pico. But yeah, I want to branch out to something edgier, and I think you can help too."
"Let me show you what I've got so far." You showed him some of your notes in a little notepad document, detailing the story thus far and your current plans for this chapter. "Oh, that's it? Just looks like boring police preparation mainly," Pico commented. "Yeah, it's not much right now. But it'll get juicy later." "And bloody?" "And bloody."
"Welp, I'm gonna head back in," Pico got up, "let me know if you need anything." He head back inside, closing the door, but then opened it almost immediately afterwards. Pico stuck his head out, "by the way, the guy should use some strong alcohol or something to throw off those sniffer dogs."
Chapter 2:
"And then, because they used a silencer, the police don't immediately notice the--"
"Nope! I'm calling bullshit (Y/N)!" Pico had suddenly interrupted your explanation of the scene you were currently working on. "Silencers can help prevent some hearing loss, sure, but they're not magic."
"Alright," you reply, "no silencer, but the killer still has to kill in a way to not get blood on them, so I thought shooting and killing them from a distance would work." "Well, they're alone. Instead, have the guy get shanked in the neck or something, and have the killer use a plastic bag as a glove. It saved my ass one time."
"Woah!" you exclaimed with a giggle, "you used a knife once? What happened to my trigger happy boyfriend, huh? That's pretty sus."
"I forgot to reload the Uzis, alright?"
"What an impostor would say."
Chapter 3:
"What would be the best way to muffle the scream of someone you kidnapped?"
You two were sitting on the couch together watching a show. You didn't have your laptop on you, so Pico didn't expect you to still be thinking about that book. "I can't say from experience, really," he said as he paused the show. "However, shove a rag in their mouth and duct tape it in, and you should be good."
"Thanks Pico, also one more thing." "Yeah?" "What if our killer also wanted to..." God, this one was gonna be awkward, but you had to say it or else no help. "You know, cut off this victim's willy. How would you do that?"
"Wai-wha-uh-ga," Pico started fumbling his words like never before. He stopped, then took a deep breath. "YO, WHAT THE FUCK?!" "It'll make sense in the story later, I promise!" You watch Pico begin to lose it, breaking into laughter. "Ladies, gentlemen, and others," Pico dramatically stood up, pulling a little Showcaster impression and directing his arms towards you, "my famous 'young' adult novelist partner!"
Chapter 4:
It was in the dead of night, but you awoke to Pico on his phone. His vpn was on and Tor was up. As per usual, he was checking up on his little hitman service, where others could request for a certain someone's guts to fly if they paid him a hefty sum first. Though tired, you ound this to be the best time to ask him some more questions.
"Pico, how do those sites work?"
"Oh, you're awake," Pico blankly stated, sleepy too. But he still answered you. "Basically, some anonymous rich guys in the area give me money and a target, then I just do the thing and send a mission accomplished email." "Do they pay you in person?" "Nah, we use always use Bitcoin. It's a lot harder to trace than real money."
"Thanks Pico. Goodnight," you wish him, yawning and going back to sleep. "You too... So this guy is a hit man too?" "Hush. Tomorrow." "Okay." Pico puts his phone away, leaving it on a nightstand. You then spoon the night away, peacefully thinking of murder as you drifted off.
Chapter 5:
On a morning similar to before, you two sat on the patio with your drinks and laptop at the ready. Pico watched rather awkwardly as you typed away, wondering why you haven't entertained him with another question yet.
"You gonna ask anything else?" "What? Oh, nah," you plainly state. Inevitable, sure, but he was kind of saddened. He liked being able to share his messed up wisdom. "So, you're done?" "Almost." You turn to look at him, "want the spoilers?" Pico smiled, "sure thing."
In the novella you and Pico crafted together, the main character is a cop who hunts down a killer. They eventually notice that there would be two murders at a time for unknown reasons. Well, it was unknown until one victim had left up a dark web hit man for hire site. They that the hit man not only kills the target, but the client as a hidden price for the service.
And any request will be fulfilled, according to the hit man's site.
"Do they catch 'em?" Pico asked. "Well, ANY request is granted. So, if our hero were to... hire him to kill himself..."
"No way!"
"He did. They find both of their bodies in his bedroom."
Pico was a bit impressed with the ending you came up with, but then he remembered something. "Why did that guy get his thing cut off?" "Lol, I forgot," you giggled. "He sent a message to the hit man, saying he wishes the target would choke on his dick."
"That's my favourite part."
Epilogue:
After everything was finished up, you sent the book off to your editor. After the initial joy of knowing how the story ended, you saw that Pico was still in thought. "What's up with you?" "Oh nothing, well it's just... I'm probably just biased, being that I'm a bit of a hitman myself, but it's kind of sad to see the guy go."
"Then I should spoil the epilogue I came up with." Rather than being excited, Pico nervously asked, "what's an epilogue?" He didn't get an answer, only you staring at him. "Sorry, school held too many bad memories for me to pay attention."
"Anyways," you continue, "the rest of the police gang did some background checks, and find that our killer was a normal guy with no criminal history."
"Penilian?"
"No. But I did decide to take a more supernatural approach here. Somewhere across the country, another string of double homicides occur and that site is active once more. And the story kind of repeats itself."
"Penilian."
"You joker," you give him a playful little kiss on the cheek, one that definitely caught him off guard. "So is it canon?" Pico smirked. "Nah, just thanking you for being my cute little co-author." "Oh," Pico started, "so we're flirtin' now, huh. Come here babe!" He tackled you onto the ground, giving you several kisses in exchange.
"Actually, I think we call that 'making out'," you chuckle out, flustered. "But that doesn't mean I said stop'!" You pull him in for more, accidentally bonking your heads together rather painfully. "Nice double kill there, (Y/N)."
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[CW: discussion of medical stuff, needles, and therapy]
~~~ ⓘⓣ ⓘⓢ ⓐⓝⓔⓒⓓⓞⓣⓔ ⓣⓘⓜⓔ ~~~
On the 17th, I had my second round of a procedure called a medial branch block. My spine doctor realized my vertebrae are like a bone version of crumbly bleu cheese, and some nerves have been stuck in the crumbles (causing excruciating pain), so as a test they’re injecting numbing stuff into the nerves to see if it helps. Insurance requires two of these tests to see if they help before authorizing ablation of the nerves to get rid of the bits stuck in the crumbles.
The first round was... bad. Far more painful than anticipated. A surgical nurse gave me a little foam stress-ball avocado, and it was crushed flat in my fist.
And so, I was nervous for Round 2. This time was going to involve IV anesthesia and I hate all needles with a fiery passion, so I was anxious about the procedure and doubly anxious about the IV.
That nurse, trying to distract me, asked what I would be doing if I weren’t there. The first thing I could think of was, “Uhh... probably at home watching D&D things?” Which, as soon as I said it, I felt a celestial wedgie and fought the urge to push my glasses up my nose 🤓
Her eyebrows went up. “Do you D&D?”, she asked.
I warily replied, “Yeah... I do D&D.”
The next 15 minutes was spent giving her advice on where to get books and equipment for her teenage sons (“My youngest wants a... a Master’s Screen? Do I need to Etsy that?”), how to help the younger one deal with always being the one DMing for his chaotic friends, some advanced gift ideas for the elder teen, and what skills she didn’t realize they’re sharpening by playing the game. Critical thinking, communication, empathy, math, statistics, architecture and urban planning, just heaps of stuff they’re practicing when they “do D&D”.
She took out a notepad and asked if there were any videos she could watch with him. I had a moral imperative to recommend Dimension 20’s Adventuring Academy, since Brennan Lee Mulligan and his rowdy gang of rascals are what reignited my love for a game I had been gatekept out of for many years.
My anxiety was fully short-circuited, and the procedure went fine! 🎉
A few days later was my weekly therapy appointment (via Zoom). One of the topics we touched on was how people react when you tell them you’ve lost someone — how awkward people generally are when responding to grief, and how much easier such social interactions would be with cards or signals you could flash to let people know how you felt about them broaching certain topics.
I mentioned how much it helped in things like D&D to have safety tools and consent signals in place, and my therapist asked me to explain what I was talking about.
I described how much better it felt to immerse yourself in a fantasy world among people who felt obligated to keep everyone at the table psychologically safe. How inhabiting a character requires a vulnerability that can so often be wrecked by selfish DMs or insensitive edgelords, so when you know those types of people aren’t present, you can let go of the edge of the pool and truly explore.
I was waiting for a “...but you know that’s not real life, right?”, but instead, she asked me to send her links to read up on the lines/veils/cards/check-ins/etc. because her teenage daughter plays D&D and didn’t know there could be a system in place to set boundaries and communicate discomfort.
What on earth was the point of this post... I guess to fully think aloud, Livejournal-style, and document that one of the less-terrible parts of 2020 has been greater digital accessibility to playing and watching TTRPGs. The stigma is crumbling with the growing popularity of Dimension 20, NADDPod, The Adventure Zone, Critical Role, et al., as they serve as vehicles to help us escape reality for a bit. More diverse GMs and players are claiming territory and setting examples to get more varieties of people engaged in the universe. As Discord and video calls became the norm, it opened a whole world for singular players to find groups and for groups to span continents.
It still blows my mind that TTRPGs have gone, within my lifetime, from “True Nerds Only! No Girls Allowed!” to what they are today. In my personal scrapbook of 2020, it would be 75% redacted and 25% D&D.
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bqstqnbruin · 4 years
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4 times he wanted to come over + one time he did
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Ok, we’re going to ignore several things here, like the fact that this was an 8 page Google Doc that I put together in a few hours, the fact that said document had been blank since June, t y p o s, and the fact that it’s nearly three am and I have my first day of classes technically today (aka at 2 pm).
But here I am, with my second fic of the day? IDK but since classes are starting, my posts are going to be a lot less frequent, so hopefully you guys like this! -------------------
one
Your apartment was finally put together just the way you liked it; all your stuff had its place, it was decorated just the way you liked it, you even had a pantry full of food, a rare feat when you were in college even with living with three other girls. Your first morning in your new, fully set up place was going to be celebrated by yourself. You had planned to make yourself breakfast that would probably last into lunch, order Chinese food later that night, drink coffee and watch Seinfeld on Hulu until you felt like going to sleep. There was no better way to break in a new place than by just relaxing in it. 
You turn on your TV, setting your coffee and plate down on the table in front of your couch, and walk over to the huge windows you were lucky enough to have in the apartment. It was a picture-perfect day, and the sun shined right into your apartment, not a single cloud in the blue sky. You felt like you were in a movie like someone had curated the scene and that with the touch of a button, the green screen would be gone and so would the magic. 
Sitting down, putting your feet up on the table, you dig in. This was actually perfect for you. Your new job was going to be stressful and you knew it. The more you could find ways to relax in your home, the better the job would be. 
After three episodes and nearly spilling your coffee all over you twice, you decide to get up and move around. You were drawn back to your windows, still in awe at the scene on the other side of them. Across the street, it looks like someone was doing the same in their apartment. He was tall, handsome, shirtless, and covered with tattoos that you couldn’t seem to take your eyes off of. 
He waves at you smiling in a way that made you melt. It took everything in you to wave back and not do something stupid, mentally thanking yourself that the pajamas you had been wearing were athletic shorts and a tshirt from your sorority, and not something more embarrassing. 
You go back to your couch, knowing that he could still see you and probably what you were watching. You couldn’t focus on the episode, feeling as if he were still there watching you. You tried to force yourself not to steal glances at him but failed, every so often seeing him mirroring your actions, watching TV on his couch. You didn’t know that the entire time, he was also stealing glances at you. He couldn’t help it; never before had he seen someone look so naturally beautiful, so in their element and carefree while just sitting and watching TV. 
“Fuck it,” you say to yourself, pausing mid-episode and getting up to find the paper, markers, and tape you know you had stashed somewhere.
Messily scrawling ‘I just moved in, nice to meet you,’ on a piece of paper, you tape it up on the window, praying that you wrote it big and dark enough that he could see it.  Sighing when he wasn’t still on the couch, you get back on your own and press play on the TV again. 
Where could he have gone? And why were you more invested in the handsome stranger on the other side of the street than you were in the show about nothing that you had grown up watching? 
Your stomach growls, not quite late enough to order dinner, you wander into your kitchen to get a snack, looking over to the window of handsome man to see that he had left a note, presumably for you. ‘Nice to meet you, I’m Pierre-Luc’ was written in print messier than that of a doctor’s. Thank god your best friend growing up had the world’s worst writing, having to ask him to rewrite it would have been demeaning and embarrassing. 
And so it began: you would write a note, watch an episode, then check to see if he left you anything back. He always did, 
His name was Pierre-Luc and he played hockey. After a quick google search, unbeknownst to him since you were assuming he couldn’t see what was on your phone, you found that he was a professional hockey player, player for the Blue Jackets. Great, as if he weren’t already being sweet, asking you questions, leaving you charmingly flirty messages on his window for you, now he was an athlete? Quite possibly one of the sexiest types of men in your opinion? Great. Amazing. 
‘What’s for dinner?’ he leaves on his window, disappearing somewhere into his apartment. 
‘Ideally Chinese food, where do you suggest?’ is what you leave for him, scrolling through Uber eats to see what was cheapest and nearby. You look up, seeing him writing on a notepad his answer, taping it to his window before sending you what you could swear was a wink. 
‘Best place to eat out is here at my place,” you read, bursting out laughing. Confident, this one. 
You roll your eyes, leaving a cheeky message about sticking to Chinese food and just ordering it from the first place that came up. 
The night went on, you not realizing you had spent the whole day flirting with a window stranger. He had liked talking to you, too, but it was pretty bad for the environment to be wasting all this paper when he could clearly see the phone that was in your hand or on your table. Writing his number on what he hoped would be his final piece of paper, maybe you would invite him over. Or he could invite you over. There was something about you that he wanted to spend time with you, not flirt with you while a city street separates you. Taping the paper up, he can see you, fast asleep on the couch, your TV screen asking you if you were still there. 
Closing his curtains, he hoped that you would use the number soon so you could actually spend time with him. 
 Two
You had been feeding that cat every morning for over a month. You loved that stray cat; there was a weird sense of satisfaction in feeding her even though you knew your apartment building wouldn’t allow you to take her in as a pet. But of course, the day you had your friends coming over for dinner was the day you had to run to the store to buy more cat food because you ran out the day before and forgot to get some yesterday. You didn’t know who put food out for the cat at night, or even if anyone did. 
You go to the bowl sitting in the alley way, seeing that it was empty, confirming your suspicion that no one else fed the poor cat. You would have to start feeding it at night, too. 
“Sorry, you don’t have to do this,” you hear someone say behind you. You get up to see him, the man from the window. 
“Pierre-Luc? Why don’t I have to do this?” 
“Because I’ve been doing it.” 
“No, I have,” you argue, knowing that this would lead to a never-ending circle of ‘me, no me.’ You had been texting each other for a few weeks, constantly trying to figure out when you could spend time together, but much like you and your best friend during senior year of college, your schedules never matched up, going a year before finally seeing each other. 
“When?” he asks, a cocky smile dancing across his face. 
“Every morning before work, what about you,” you ask, getting closer to him. You text relationship was flirty, you were sure of it. Every time you passed by your window when he was home, he made a point to check you out, he winked at you, he smiled. He exuded a welcome confidence that you weren’t used to.
“Every day when I get back from practice.”
“What about the days that you’re away for games?”
“I figured someone would feed him for me.”
“The cat’s a girl,” you say, the little feline coming up to you. “You would know that if you didn’t just assume other people were doing what you set out to do in the first place.”
“Well, my assumption was correct, wasn’t it?” he says, a devilish twinkle in his eye as his tongue runs along his bottom lip. 
“You know what they say about assuming,” you tell him, breaking your eye contact to put out some food for the purring animal.
“What’s that?”
“It makes an ass outta you and me,” you tell him, looking up at him towering over you as a laugh leaving his lips. Given his demeanor, you wouldn’t expect him to look as, what’s the right word, jolly? As he did. 
“How come you’re feeding her now if you usually do it in the morning?” he asks, bending down to help you.
Feeling your phone buzzing in your pocket that signaled your friends were already there waiting for you, you tell him, “I ran out of food yesterday and didn’t have the chance to get more until after work. Plus, I needed to pick some stuff up for tonight, anyway.”
“Tonight?” he asks, his head snapping up. Dammit. Dammit, dammit, dammit, ran through his head.
“Yeah, my friends are coming over for dinner. It’s the first time they’ll be seeing my new place.” You pause for a minute. He was here, obviously with some free time, but did you want his first time over your place to be surrounded by your nosy friends? They knew you were talking to an attractive neighbor, but you knew they would say things to him that would mortify you and send you running before he got the chance. 
But like the night you first moved in, fuck it. “Are you free tonight? I would love for you to come over,” you tell him, the smile on his face disappearing as soon as you asked.
“I have a game tonight, I can’t. I was actually about to change and then leave,” he says, looking sad. He wanted to come over, and as soon as you said you were having friends over, he knew that you were going to ask him. 
“Oh, that’s fine. Now I have a reason to watch a game, though,” you tell him, smiling. You had to admit, you were a little bit upset, but again, it was probably for the best that he didn’t meet your friends just yet. 
“If the game ends early enough, I’ll stop by, yeah?” he suggests, running his hand through his hair.
“Yeah, sure. I’d like that.” 
Three
“Babe, you’ve lived here for like, what? Almost six months? You have a hot as fuck neighbor who you actually talk to, and he hasn’t come over yet? Why haven’t you asked him to come over?” Amy says with food in her mouth. Your friends were over, again, this time to hang out before they went out to the bars. You were originally going to go, but you were too exhausted, and having already promised to host the pregame, you weren’t going to back out now. 
“You call me babe more than any guy I’ve met, you realize that right?” you ask her, getting up to go over to your window. You knew he wasn’t home; you had the Columbus game against the Flyers playing on your TV, Pierre-Luc was on the ice as you absentmindedly went over to the window to see if he was there. “Plus, our schedules never work. Look, Aimes, he’s literally on our TV, meanwhile as soon as all you hooligans leave, I’m going to bed. 
“Come on, stay up for the man,” Jeff said. The only male in your group of friends, he always entered the girl talk, encouraging you to get with a guy just as much as the others. 
“I’m going out to breakfast with you guys in the morning, how cranky do you want me to be, Jeffy? You know I will not hesitate to throw a potato at you,” you say, the rest of the group laughing even though they know you’re serious. You have thrown stuff at him and only him during breakfast before, him never thinking you’d have the guts to cause a scene in public, but doing it anyway. 
“We all know you’d be less cranky if you got laid,” he says through a mouthful of food. Why did everyone talk with their mouths open?
“Tomorrow I’m ordering two breakfasts; one to eat and one to throw at you.” 
You tune out your friends for the rest of the night. You only paid attention to the hockey game, your eyes trying to stay focused on Pierre-Luc every time he was on the ice. You did really want him to come over, but again, the first time couldn’t be with your friends, not when they were full psychopaths when it came to any boy that you were talking to. What would you have done if Pierre-Luc was there when Jeff commented about you being cranky and needed to get laid? 
Why did the cute guy have to have such a complicated schedule? Every time you were free, he was to jet off somewhere in the country for a few days for games, then he would come back, sleep, go to practice, and then go to a game. From what you could tell, he never stayed up past maybe 10 pm on the nights he didn’t have games, he napped nearly every day after practices, and he really was only home to eat.
Not that you were stalking him. Or memorizing his schedule. You two talked all the time, having evolved from notes in the windows to texting, from texting to calling, from calling to him falling asleep before you while on Facetime. He was one of your best friends, and you had never actually hung out with him at your or his apartment. 
“So how long will it take for him to get home now that the game is over?” Amy asks, snapping you out of the trance that you didn’t know you were in.
You didn’t even know that the game was over; the Jackets beat the Flyers 2-1, the game apparently ending about five minutes ago. You never timed how long it took between the game being over and him getting home since it was different pretty much every night. You think. Again, it’s not like you were stalking the boy. “Uh, I don’t know, half an hour?” you guess, giving them what you hoped was enough information for them to not ask you more.
“So has he sent you any like sexy pics?” Tanaka pips in, you nearly choking on the water you were drinking. 
“What the ever living fuck?” you nearly scream, all your friends laughing at your reaction. “There is no way I would ever tell you. Guys, we’re friends. Yes, he’s cute, hell, he’s fucking hot, but we’ve never physically spent time together, so can we just drop it?” 
They change the subject, going back to the conversation from this afternoon that involved them trying to get you to go out. You loved your friends, they were your found family, but dammit they wouldn’t take no for an answer. 
“Wait, sorry, which apartment is his again?” Jeff asks in the middle of you telling them yet again why you weren’t going out with them. 
You all snap your heads to the other building, the one directly across from you now with lights on. “That one,” you say, Pierre-Luc appearing in the window, all of your friends running up to go wave to him. This was mortifying. Your phone started buzzing on the table, and with Pierre-Luc having his phone out for his friends to see, they knew it was from him.
“What did he say!” Tanaka yells, trying to grab your phone from you. 
“He said get your creepy friends away from the window,” you lie. If you told them he was asking to come over, they would steal your phone and make him come. “Guys, shouldn’t you be going by now? It’s almost 11, the deal at the bar ends at midnight and all of you are still sober,” you point out, praying that it would work.
“Let’s get drunk!” Amy says, grabbing her bag and marching out the door. “Are you sure you don’t want to come?” 
“Yep, I’m going to sleep. Text me when you’re all alive!” you say, pushing them out the door.
Your phone buzzes again, Pierre-Luc asking again if he could come now that your friends were gone. You wanted to say yes, but you knew that as soon as he came over, you would be asleep. Plus he just came from a game, there was no way he wasn’t also exhausted. ‘I’m about to pass out, I’m sorry. We’ll hang out eventually, I promise’
Four
You should be back in your apartment by now. You had told Pierre-Luc that you would be home by 11 pm. You had an early day the next day and staying out late wasn’t something you wanted to do, no matter how good your date went or how attractive you thought the guy was. 
Much to Pierre-Luc’s dismay, you had told him that your friend Amy had set you up with someone she knew from school. You were going out with him tonight, you Facetiming Pierre-Luc while getting ready. He should have just been over there, watching you get ready. No actually, he should have been the one taking you out, but at this point in whatever the hell relationship you had, the first thing that you were going to do in person with each other, besides that one time you fed the alley cat, was hang out in each other’s apartment. 
He was pacing, checking his phone to see if you had sent him anything about your whereabouts. You should have been home by now, why weren’t you home? If you weren’t home in ten minutes, he was going to call the police. No, they wouldn’t do anything. He would figure out how to hack your phone, try to find Amy on social media, something so that he would know you were safe. 
Sitting down on his couch, he positioned himself so he had a direct view of your apartment. As soon as you walked in the door and turn on the light to your living room, he would know. He needed that light to go on right now. 
‘Maybe I should go over and wait outside her door? Would that be creepy?’ he thought to himself, ‘I could say that I was just checking on you, which would technically be true. It’s not like you were going to bring the guy home, right? But what if you did and then I was there sitting outside your door. I can’t ruin things for you.’ 
Why has it taken him so long to even get over to your place? Or for you to come over to his? He hated that your schedules were just different enough that you couldn’t meet up. You were always running out the door when he was just getting home and vice versa. He couldn’t even fathom what he would do the first time he saw you in person.
He should have just kissed you when you were feeding the cat. He knows that he wants to date you, how could he not someone who was sweet enough to do something like that for a random cat but also unafraid to chirp him like his teammates? 
Your light goes on, him doing everything in his power to not jump up and go to his window, but that doesn’t stop him from watching what was happening.
Your date went well; you and David had really hit it off, leading to making out in the elevator ride up, stumbling into your apartment with your lips practically glued to his. You look across to Pierre-Luc’s apartment, him sitting there. You make eye contact with him, smiling because of David. David comes up behind you, starting to kiss you down your neck. You send a thumbs up to Pierre-Luc, closing the curtain as you let David do as he pleases.
Pierre-Luc sits on his couch, dumbfounded by what he just saw. That should have been him. He should have been the one in your apartment with you right now. 
+one
Saturday morning, sitting on your couch, watching Seinfeld. A cup of coffee, your phone, and a plate with some fruit on it, much like the first full day when you moved in. The sky was cloudless and blue, but you weren’t admiring it in the same way as you were that day. You were out with David last night, one month after your first date. You thought everything was going great, until he told you that he wanted to see other people. You shouldn’t have been surprised, he had been saying that he wasn’t sure he was ready for a relationship, but that didn’t mean it didn’t still hurt when he officially broke it off with you. 
‘You’re crying,’ a message from Pierre-Luc pops up on your screen. For a moment, you forgot your curtains were open, giving him a full view into your apartment. 
‘Yep,’ you reply back, not sure what else to say. He could see you, it’s not like you could lie to him. 
‘Need to talk about it?’ 
‘I don’t want to Facetime right now.’
‘Got it,’ was all he said. You look over at his apartment, just in time to see him shutting the door behind him. What the hell was he doing that he could ask you to Facetime and then leave right after? You let out a sigh, deciding to focus on the TV and try to force yourself to eat the fruit. You weren’t going to feel any better if your hunger turned into hanger, so you might as well eat the food that was in front of you. 
You didn’t know where your phone ended up; somewhere in the couch cushions maybe? On the floor? You didn’t even care, you just wanted to wallow and be dramatic for the day. What you weren’t expecting was the knock on your door, interrupting your favorite episode of the show. Getting up, not expecting anyone, you debated even opening the door when you hear his voice on the other side.
“Y/N, it’s me, open up.” You see Pierre-Luc standing there, a bag from the donut shop down the street in hand, a bunch of take out menus in the other.
“What are you doing here?” you ask, him pushing past you and plopping down on the couch, obviously already knowing the way around. 
“You were upset so I wanted to make sure you were alright,” he says, taking out the donuts, putting them on the plate with your fruit, popping a piece in his mouth. “You don’t have to talk about it, but at least this way we’re finally hanging out in person.”
There was something about seeing him sitting on your couch that just felt right. He looked so at home, his feet already up on your table in the way you sat pretty much all the time. He had already started up the episode, replaying it from the beginning so he could see it when you sit down beside him, tucking your feet underneath you. 
“Come here,” he says, reaching his arm out. You cuddle up next to him, your head on his shoulder as he plants a kiss on the top of your head. It felt so right. So much better than with David, so much better than with any of the other guys you had been with. 
“He dumped me,” you tell him, even though you were sure that you had already texted him that last night when you were on your way home. 
“He didn’t deserve you,” you hear him say. He mumbled something else, something you couldn’t quite make out. If he wanted you to hear it, he would have said it louder, you figured.
“He said I play hard to get?” you ask, unsure if that was true or not. Were you hard to get? You slept with the guy on the first night, Pierre-Luc had seen the beginning of it through the window. 
“No, you’re not hard to get, you’re hard to earn. Any guy would be lucky to have you. If I had you, I’d,” he stops himself, mentally kicking himself for opening that can of worms that he really didn’t want to dive into yet. You hadn’t even been out on a first date. If anything, maybe, this was your first date. 
“You’d what?” you say, sitting up, hoping he would continue. This was his first time in your apartment. Something you had both thought about a lot. You wanted to hear what he would do if you were together, hoping whatever he said would actually happen. 
“I’d feed the cat with you in the morning and then do it by myself in the afternoon if I didn’t have a game or something,” he starts, laughing, “I’d go out to breakfast with your friends even if we didn’t go out with them the night before. I’d even hang out with them whenever you did, even though they are a little crazy. You love the people around you, the animals that aren’t even your own pets. You deserve someone who will love you back the way you love everyone and everything.” 
You sit there for a moment, unsure of how to respond. “I should have been the one that night in here with you, not him,” he says, finally admitting it out loud. 
“Do something about it now, then,” you tell him.
“What?” he asks, stunned. 
“Forget that night you saw me with David, and do something now,” you insist. You had wanted this just as bad as he did, so why were either of you waiting?
He starts slow, sweet, his hand on your cheek as he presses his lips to yours. His lips move with yours, his tongue swiping your bottom lip as his other hand snakes it’s way around you back, picking you up from the seat next to you and placing you in his lap. Your hands go through his hair, your mind blank. This was what you had been waiting for since you first saw him.
He pulls away, his cheeks now red, a smile on his face, “I really hope I’m the only one who ever looked through your window.”
“If anyone else is looking then at least they get a little bit of a show,” you say, kissing him again. 
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tzeetzeethirteen · 2 years
Text
Here’s a short sad story:
Be me, using FFnet’s docmanager to post stuff to AO3
Uploading documents to the docmanager and copy pasting the text from the document in it to AO3′s Rich Text Editor
Wants to stop using FFnet’s docmanager to avoid having to depend on an online site
Starts to copy paste directly from Microsoft Word and Libreoffice to the AO3 RTE; all works well... apparently.
Catches an error in one of the recent chapter updates, goes to edit with the HTML editor, discovers the HTML code is a eye-watering mess and it’s almost impossible to read.
Discovers that copying and pasting from Libreoffice/Word causes the HTML to become bloated in the first place. Copying and pasting from the FFnet docmanager the same document nets clean HTML code instead
Has borderline obsession with cleanness, can’t tolerate the HTML to be as ugly as it is
Tries multiple methods to solve the problem, including but not limited to:
Trying different WYSIWYG word processors to see if copying and pasting from them nets better HTML; some applications simply crash upon opening the pre-existing stories or even by just copying pasting the stories into a new document, others bloat the HTML code when copy-pasting to worse, almost nightmarish levels.
Trying to find solutions to clean the code directly. Wants to avoid online tools since that was the whole goal in the first place (not having to rely on an online site), which conveniently removes 95% of solutions as a result
Tries google docs. Discovers it has the same exact HTML bloating problem as World/Libreoffice when copying from it and pasting to AO3.
Tries scripts to install into google docs to clean up the HTML, specifically made for AO3. Doesn’t work, the code is still bloated with <span> tags.
Tries to find offline scripts to clean the HTML code locally on the computer. Most don’t work or require installations of dependencies or software I’d have to learn from scratch and spend days doing it.
Tries various options within Libreoffice to stop the bloating from happening in the first place. None work. Find people with similar problem, apparently it’s a known Libreoffice Writer issue that’s been around for years and was never fixed.
Tries creating a document from scratch in Libreoffice and write from zero, discovers the bloating comes up literally as you write. You can’t avoid it.
Realizes it’s 1 AM and I haven’t written a single fanfic word for the next chapter of one of my WIPs as I originally planned to do this evening
Cries
Tests a crude alternative method, finds out it somewhat works, decides it’s enough and dives into the bed
The morning after, here’s the final verdict: to get clean HTML - without losing the basic formatting I sometimes use - going back to using FFnet’s docmanager appears to be my best bet. Besides me being stubborn about keeping things clean, shorter and less bloated HTML code would also mean that some of the offline downloads generate way smaller files that are less likely to give issues when opened for reading, it would make the webpage of the fics itself lighter, and it would make things for myself much easier when editing out mistakes, so there is (somewhat) a practical reason for doing this and I’ll try to stick to it.
In the event that FFnet ceases to exist, I’ll fall back to the alternative method I found in the end. It’s as simple as copying and pasting the text from the word processor to a notepad-equivalent text editor. That way you’re sure there are no HTML tags whatsoever, so the bloat is removed. Then, I can substitute newlines with double-newlines (\n --> \n\n) and then manually add the <em> and <strong> tags for italics and bold to get an AO3-ready HTML text to copy paste into the HTML editor. Other minor details can be added back directly on AO3 with the RTE.
It’s slow, but it works and it is not unreasonably slow, so it’s fine for me. Was it worth the hassle? Probably not :O
TL;DR: Random internet user and fanfiction writer loses an entire evening spending hours finding solution for a minor problem with HTML code
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moonyy-writes · 3 years
Text
final decision ~ levi x erwin
word count: 1.2k
summary: levi is a criminal, erwin is the police chief...what could go wrong?
a/n: i literally love the whole “sarcastic criminal levi” thing,, also the hange & moblit detective duo😩🤚🏻yes please
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Levi smirked as he found himself tied to a chair, this was all a part of his plan. He was an infamous criminal in Stohess, an overpopulated city that was run by gangs and violence. Not that the actual occupants cared, they were all rich know-it-alls who looked down on anyone who wasn’t of their social status. Levi had allowed himself to get caught, knowing it would be too easy to leave a trail, especially with detective Hange and her sidekick Moblit. They were always the ones assigned to find him, Levi finding it comical at how easily they fell for his tricks. 
Levi busied himself with loosening the binds on his wrists as he scanned the room for an exit. He was in a cell, the only light coming from a small rectangular window in the corner. 
The door slammed open and in walked Hange with Moblit on their tail. They were smirking, circling Levi with their hands clasped behind their back. Moblit stood in the corner, notepad and pencil ready to document everything.
Hange paused in front of him. “What are you playing at?”
Levi raised a brow, his smirk deepening. “Whatever do you mean?” 
They rolled their eyes, “oh don’t play dumb with me, Ackerman. You know exactly what I’m talking about. The inexcusable violence, wreaking havoc on the city. Why?”
“Just having some fun,” Levi shrugged. “It’s like a hobby more or less.”
Hange gaped at him for a moment. “A hobby.” 
Levi nodded, “yep, it’s exactly that.”
They threw their hands in the air, “violence is not a hobby, Levi!” 
“Depends on the way you look at it.” 
They groaned before running a hand over their face. “We can’t keep wasting our time on you, your tricks are getting old. We’re figuring out the patterns. In short, you’re slacking, Levi.” 
It was Levi’s turn to smirk, “who said I was slacking?” 
Their expression grew confused, mind turning and thinking of every possibility, trying to figure out the meaning behind Levi’s strange words. They thought they had it all figured out, but his reaction only made them rethink it. 
Before Hange could restate their solution, the alarms started echoing through the building. Bright red lights flashing throughout. 
“Shit,” they frantically looked to Moblit, who shoved the notepad in his pocket and ran to the door. They turned to Levi before exiting, finding him smirking in his chair with his hands untied and resting on his crossed legs. 
He glanced at his watchless wrist before tapping it. “Right on time.” 
“What did you do this time you bastard,” Hange growled. 
Levi shrugged, “just having some fun. You guys really should be more careful.” 
“What are you-” Before Hange could finish, both them and Moblit were knocked unconscious. 
“That was easy, far too easy.” Farlan chuckled, holding the door open  for Levi. 
He nodded. “Where’s Isabel?” 
“Um, good question.” Farlan glanced around a corner before gesturing with his gun for them to continue. “She ran off in some other direction, something about the police chief.” 
Levi’s relaxed expression dropped, “the police chief?”
“Yeah, what’s wrong? She’s handled more difficult opponents,” Farlan shrugged. 
“No. No, no, no. He’s different. He plans ahead, he knows when things are coming.” Levi glanced around frantically before breaking into a sprint in the opposite direction.
Farlan groaned and lowered his gun and ran after him. 
They came upon a big wooden door, slightly ajar. Levi held a finger to his lips and silently looked through it. He observed for a moment before slamming it open. 
Inside it appeared to be an office, a large wooden desk in the middle, the perimeter of the room lined with bookshelves. Except Isabel lay crumbled on the ground and a man sat at the desk, his feet casually resting on top. 
At the sound of the door opening, he took them off and leaned forward onto the desk with his fingers templed. “Ah, Levi. I had a feeling you’d show up.” His sapphire eyes twinkled with an unknown emotion as he smiled slyly.
 Levi raised his hands slightly as he slowly crept forward, Farlan stayed by the door but kept his hand on his gun. “I don’t know what game you’re playing at, Erwin, but leave them out of it.” Levi said cautiously. “Whatever you’re going to do is between me and you, not them.” 
Erwin hummed, his expression becoming thoughtful. “As you wish,” he flicked a finger at the door and two people came in and grabbed Farlan and picked up Isabel. 
“Hey!” Levi protested, “be careful with her.”
“Don’t worry, they’ll be fine while we chat.” Erwin stood and strided to the door, shutting it quietly. He turned to Levi, his hands clasped behind his back as he narrowed his eyes at him, only slightly. That sly smile never left his face. “You managed to infiltrate my squad...in record timing too. I must congratulate you on that, quite impressive.” 
Levi rolled his eyes. “Get on with it old man.”
Erwin cleared his throat with a bemused smile before continuing. “We could use someone like you, intelligent, quick on their feet. You don’t see true talent like that anymore.” 
Levi snorted before crossing his arms and tapping his feet, this wasn’t his first rodeo with Erwin and his convincing ways. Although his good looks didn’t make it any easier. He made sure to avoid eye contact, his sparkling eyes would be just enough to convince Levi to do anything he wanted. 
Erwin moved around Levi and sat on the edge of his desk, “I know you don’t believe me. But it’s safer, you wouldn’t be risking your life constantly without reason.” 
“And working for you changes that?” Levi shook his head. “No, I don’t think so.” 
Erwin shrugged, his large shoulders pulling his button down tighter. Levi sucked in a quick breath and his eyes scanned the room, looking at anything but him. 
“Levi,” Erwin mumbled, suddenly closer than before. Levi turned his head to the side to avoid looking directly at him. Erwin placed his hand on his cheek gently and forced him to make eye contact. Their eyes met, softening grey on thoughtful blue. “I know you want to ensure their safety, believe me I know how that feels. Everyone here...I want to make sure they’re safe too. They’re family. Just like how Isabel and Farlan are to you.” 
Levi broke eye contact, choosing to look over Erwin’s shoulder at the wall. Erwin spoke again, his voice impossibly soft. “I just want to protect you.” 
Levi felt his warm breath fan across his face, his eyes fluttered closed and he unintentionally leaned closer. Their lips lightly brushed before Levi clenched his jaw and pulled away, speaking tightly. “I know we….we had a past. But that needs to stay in that time, we’ve both changed. I-I can’t be with someone, getting close to people is dangerous. I’m already close with Isabel and Farlan and that’s a mistake waiting to happen. You never know when someone is going to leave you, intentionally or not.” 
Erwin’s voice became pained, “Levi, I told you I wouldn’t leave you then and I won’t leave you now. Just please...please give this a chance. I want you to be safe-” 
Levi pulled himself from Erwin’s grasp, his eyes becoming cold and distant once more. “You don’t know what’s best for me, this is the life I’ve chosen and I can’t change it.” He walked to the door, pausing as his hand met the handle. “Goodbye, Erwin.” 
Erwin’s shoulders sagged as he knew that Levi made his decision, the final decision. And there was no going back on it.
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have a good day <33
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creative-poptart · 4 years
Text
Sans had been planning this little stake out for quite some time, and Papyrus was ready to make sure that he fulfilled everything that needed to be done. The mission seemed simple enough: watch the human that was suspected to be a part of the rival mafia and document behavior. Easy! Papyrus could do that in his sleep, except for the fact that sleeping would make the job inefficient!
He had his own little station that he could return to in the blink of an eye if need be, and he was fully prepared to last for months on end. This job was going to be a longer one, after all, with having to detail several months’ worth of behavior, all at once.
Nothing he couldn’t handle, of course, but he would much rather be making sure that the business side of things was running smoothly. Sans wasn’t the worst at keeping things going, but he wasn’t necessarily the best either. Then again, Sans trying to run a whole stakeout operation with even the slightest chance of not falling asleep? Highly unlikely. 
A soft laugh left Papyrus’ mouth as he thought about it. Despite his brother being the powerful mob boss he was, there was no way that he could pull off a full session of watching someone else. Not that he didn’t believe in his brother, but staying awake and watching people do day to day things was something that would put Sans right to sleep.
Papyrus shook his head a little and got back to preparing all of his items for the months to come. Walkie talkie? Check. Healthy snacks and food? Check! Extra batteries, clothing, and binoculars? Check, double check, and triple check! He smiles to himself and quietly starts to make sure that everything was fit into his bag with perfection. 
“THERE!” he proclaimed to no one in particular. “ALL SET AND READY TO GO ON MY MISSION FOR AT LEAST A MONTH! SANS, ARE YOU PREPARED TO HANDLE THINGS IN MY ABSENCE?” The walkie talkie crackled to life beside him with his brother’s voice coming through.
“yep bro, read you loud and clear. you sure you can handle being out there for a month or more?” Papyrus shook his head and, if he had eyes to roll, he would have rolled them in his skull. 
“YES, I AM MORE THAN PREPARED,” he retorted into the walkie talkie, making sure he pressed the button to respond first. “I WILL BE SETTING OUT SHORTLY, SO PLEASE DO NOT MESS UP ANYTHING THAT I WOULD NORMALLY BE IN CHARGE OF!”
A few minutes later, the suave mobster was outside his spot that he would effectively be camping outside of for the month. Your home. While they were all uncertain if you were part of a rival mafia or not, this stakeout was to prevent you from doing something that could target them. Papyrus readily volunteered to clear your name or prove your guilt if need be, and so here he was!
The starting day began with simply tailing your footsteps to make sure that you weren’t deliberately going to do anything mafia-related. You seemed unaware of his presence, which was ideal, and he followed you carefully. Your first stop was to the neighbor’s home, an elderly widow who had been on her own for several years. Papyrus watched you hand over some groceries, tell her to have a good morning, and then headed out for work.
The day kept going on, and Papyrus was finding less and less evidence that you could be involved in mafia dealings. However, it was only one day, and he had at least a month to watch you and confirm that for a fact. He could be patient and make sure you were clean, it would just take time.
As time went on however, Papyrus gave daily updates to Sans and made sure to log anything and everything of note. It became something he enjoyed doing quite a bit, as he got to watch your tenderheart unfolding day by day. You constantly were looking for ways to care for your neighbors and people you worked with, and the skeleton was loving it.
Three days before his time as the eyes on you was supposed to be up, Papyrus was wrapping up his daily log. His pen paused for a moment as he glanced back at you in your home, noting that you were getting ready for bed. A small sigh left his mouth, and he scooped up the walkie talkie at the usual time so he could fill Sans in.
“hey bro, just checking in on you,” Sans said after Papyrus gave the customary signal via pressing the button a few times in a pattern. “how are things looking with the human so far?”
“SO FAR NOT MUCH HAS CHANGED WITH THE HUMAN,” he noted, still scribbling absently with his pen on the piece of notepad. “HOWEVER, THERE HAS BEEN ONE SIGNIFICANT SHIFT IN SOMETHING REGARDING THEM. THEY HAVE MANAGED TO MAKE SOMEONE FALL IN LOVE WITH THEM.”
“oh really? shoot, who is it?” Sans asked, practically pouncing on the new information, even if it meant doing some more work. Papyrus paused for a moment, taking a deep breath.
“ME!!” 
There was a brief silence on the other end of the line and Sans seemed to almost be incapable of responding. Papyrus waited on his end, staring at the device in his hands as he waited for some kind of response, any kind at all.
“well... that’s unexpected, but... i don’t see why you couldn’t tell them that. nothing you’ve sent back to the home base has raised any suspicions so far, so we all kind of agreed that they’re clear in our books and you don’t have to be a constant surveillance on them anymore.”
Papyrus could almost weep for joy with that proclamation, but he refrained from doing so in order to not give himself away. Instead, he quietly thanked Sans over the walkie talkie, giving a profuse thanks to his brother before packing up everything for the night. It wouldn’t be hard to meet up with you, but he was definitely looking forward to asking you out. 
The next morning, you awoke to the sound of knocking on your front door, which was odd, since it was your day off. You took a moment to stretch your limbs, toss on some decent looking clothes, then hurried over to the door. No one was there, but on the front porch step was a small letter. After scooping it up and reading it to yourself, the contents within was a small invitation to a date with an admirer who would like to know you better on the upcoming Friday. 
A smile curled on your lips as there was also a phone number inside the contents of the card. As creepy as it would have been to get a phone number and a date invitation from someone you never met before, you had a sneaking suspicion it had something to do with the poorly hidden skeleton behind the tree in your front yard. Poor fellow must have gotten nervous, but you decided to humor him a little.
“The answer is yes, by the way!” you called out, not missing the way he had flinched at being called out. A chuckle rose up in your chest and you turned to head back inside, closing your door behind you. Meanwhile, Papyrus was trying to contain his glee. His initial plan of hiding failed fantastically, but now he had a date with you!
He couldn’t wait to see what would be in store.
~~~~~~~~~~
@bigoltrashpile @rayeofintegrity I finally managed to get this posted up for you guys since you wanted to see it happen!! Here it is!! And thank you to @jacketbones for the lovely idea! The original post can be found here for those who were wondering!
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viostormcaller · 4 years
Text
Stringbound Chapter 3
A/N: I really really hope this works... sorry if it’s formatted a bit weird! EDIT: ohmygod I forgot the fucking taglist I am so sorry XD EDIT 2: I forgot amidst my frustration of trying to post this here that I was supposed to edit in all the italics. So I did that. Whoops!
[TW: nausea/vomiting mention, blood, death mention]
Chapter 2
The first thing Marvin noticed behind the darkness of his eyelids was the headache, its ever-persistent pounding and squeezing against his skull as agonizing as it had been since the fight, if not more so. Next was the stomachache, not enough yet to be nauseating, mostly just sore for the time being. Third was the heat; he could tell blankets had been piled on him again -- the same ones from before, no doubt -- and despite how much he was sweating, he also found himself shivering. It was harder to breathe, as well, though it wasn't because of the blankets. However, he didn't feel the need to worry -- he could feel a mask against his mouth and nose and felt significantly cooler air entering his body when he inhaled. Henrik must have put him on an oxygen machine. He also felt that one of his arms was outside of the blankets, and while he couldn't feel it he could tell by the way his arm was positioned that there was an IV there. He could tell he was on the couch instead of in a hospital bed, and he could hear soft murmuring close by. After he felt like he'd done enough assessing of the situation, Marvin slowly opened his eyes, squinting and letting out a quiet, pained groan as the bright daylight entering the room agitated his headache further.
At the noise he heard, Henrik quickly turned around from the crouched position by the couch that he had placed himself in, eyes wide and curious. "Marvin?" he prompted. "Are you awake?"
"Y-yeah…" Marvin got out. "Yes, I'm awake…"
"How do you feel?"
"Awful," Marvin stated plainly. It had been years since he'd felt this sick.
"What symptoms are you having?" Henrik then asked, grabbing the notepad and pen from off the table.
"Headache, chills… I feel warm and cold at the same time. And it's still a bit hard to breathe."
"Any lightheadedness?"
"No."
"Dizziness?"
"Thankfully, no."
"Are you having any pains in the chest at all?"
"No. Aside from it feeling a bit tight, of course, but it doesn't hurt."
"Do you feel nauseous?"
"No, not… not yet, anyway. I'm unsure if I'll be feeling sick later, though…"
"Hm, alright… I will keep the eye on it, and the bucket will be close by, just in case." Henrik proceeded to write all of Marvin's answers down on a piece of paper. He would transfer them to a proper document later, but this will do for now. Actually, while they were on the subject…
"Oh, Marvin?" Henrik spoke up, not looking up from his paper quite yet.
"Mmh?"
"I have some more questions for you, about your reaction to the medicine, yes? Would you mind if I asked them now, or do you want to answer them later, when you are feeling a bit better?"
"We can…" Marvin took a moment to think. It didn't take long to come to a decision. "We can answer them now, but… can you dim the light in the room a bit? It's… making my head ache horribly…"
"Oh! Oh, of course! I apologize, I did not even consider that! Jackie, do you think--?"
"Yup, one step ahead of you," cheerfully replied Jackie, who had been standing by this whole time. He pulled all the curtains closed and dimmed the kitchen light some. "How's this? This good?" he called to Marvin.
Marvin fully opened his eyes, finally able to see without painfully squinting. His headache hadn't gone away, but this was definitely an improvement. "Much better," he sighed. "Thank you."
"No problem, just doin' my job."
Henrik just chuckled, shaking his head as a small grin tugged at the corners of his lips. Then he cleared his throat and adjusted his glasses, refocusing himself. "Right, yes. The symptoms. What did you notice after you had taken that medicine?"
Marvin hummed, thinking for a moment. "I remember feeling… nauseous first. The ironic part about that is, after you injected me, it actually helped to ease the nausea. However, when I was talking with Chase, it… came back. The headache followed."
Henrik nodded, writing this down. "Alright, what else?"
"While I was, er… being sick, I remember looking up and the room was spinning. Everything was blurry -- I couldn't tell you if I was seeing triple or more than that. And then I found it harder and harder to breathe in, and from there I began to experience what I can only describe as delirium…"
"Ah, yes," Henrik interjected, looking up. "I remember you mumbling nonsense at me. Do you remember what it was you were saying? Or, well… trying to say?"
Marvin just shook his head. "My guess would be just as good as yours. I haven't a single idea. Heh, I am at the very least grateful I wasn't mumbling any spells. That could have made things a bit… chaotic."
Henrik hummed in agreement, nodding, before continuing. "The only thing I did understand was when you said you felt as if you were going to pass out."
"Ah. Yes, I remember saying that," Marvin confirmed. "I felt very lightheaded seemingly out of nowhere and I was almost positive that I would pass out. Though in my half-conscious state, I couldn't tell if my warning was in my mind or if I'd spoken it aloud. I'm grateful it was the latter."
"Was that all you felt?" Henrik inquired, looking up from his notes once more.
"No, there is one more thing I remember… every vein in my body seemed to ache not long after those first symptoms appeared. At the time I'd no clue what was happening to me, but looking back it could have only been a side effect of the medicine."
Henrik nodded, continuing his furious scribbling on the paper. Finally he let out a breath and put the pen and notepad down on the coffee table. "I thank you for your help, Marvin. One, for being so cooperative, and two, for being my unintentional test subject. I am glad we did not give this to any patients… I am not sure a higher dose of this would be very safe."
"So… does that mean our original plan is a no-go?" Jackie spoke up, a concerned look in his eye.
"I am afraid so," Henrik replied sadly, turning back towards the hero. "The dose I gave Marvin was small, and you can see what it had done to him. In a higher quantity, it could potentially kill someone, and we are trying to avoid that, yes?"
Jackie muttered a curse under his breath, looking away.
"What are you going to do now?" Marvin asked, glancing between them both.
"When Chase returns, we are going to talk more deeply about this. We need a new plan."
Marvin's eyebrows furrowed. "Chase is out? Where did he go?"
"Oh, just to pick up some supplies. Non-perishable food items, medicine… that sort of thing. Is good to be stocked up, yes? Especially now that we have a new person on board."
Marvin slowly nodded in understanding. Yes, that was a smart move. He then looked up, seeing Jackie nearing closer with a grin on his face. Uh oh.
"Hope you didn't lose one of your "nine lives" while you were fighting the effects of the medicine, because we're gonna need you for this. You think you're up for it?"
Marvin just narrowed his eyes at him. "Are you always this utterly idiotic?"
"Hey, be nice!" Jackie protested, placing a hand on his chest and feigning hurt. "I'm the one who saved your life, remember? You'd probably be dead right now if it weren't for me! You better be grateful I stayed home, too, Sourpuss. Had I gone on patrols, there'd be no one to carry Schneep's medical equipment up to you. So there!"
Marvin rolled his eyes and looked away. He'd cross his arms, but one of them had the IV sticking out of it, so that wouldn't be the best idea. Henrik could only laugh to himself, shaking his head. It was easy to forget how much of a child Jackie still was, until they had moments like this.
"Do you need anything, Marvin?" Henrik asked, pulling himself from his thoughts.
"A… a cloth over my head would be appreciated," Marvin admitted.
"I'll get it!" Jackie announced.
"No, I will get it," Henrik quickly interjected, rising from his spot on the floor. "You have bothered Marvin enough for one day, I feel."
As Henrik turned to stretch, Jackie stuck his tongue out at him when he wasn't looking.
Just then, the door swung open, startling everyone in the room. It was no other than Chase, of course, carrying a few bags of groceries, but… he was covered in splatters of… blood?
"Before you ask, no, the blood isn't mine," Chase spoke up, gently kicking the door shut behind him and setting the plastic grocery bags down on the floor.
"Holy shit, what happened?!" Jackie exclaimed.
"Dude, it's like a war zone out there!" Chase said. "Have you seen the news? God, there's fuckin' people everywhere! All scramblin' around tryin' to stock up. He's got his puppets on the loose. I was fuckin' lucky to get outta there alive…"
Jackie let out a curse, quickly snatching up the remote sitting on the coffee table and turning on the TV, switching it to the news channel. The four of them watched as the woman on the TV explained the scene unfolding downtown, showing an aerial view of what was going on. There weren't that many puppets, but just enough to cause havoc.
"I gotta go," Jackie got out, tossing the remote down and already heading for the door. He was grateful that he was already suited up.
"Jackie, wait," Chase called, reaching a hand out to him.
Jackie paused in his tracks, turning to face Chase with a hum. The determination and urgency in his eyes was unmistakable.
"Are you… sure it's safe to go out there? Like… alone, I mean?"
Jackie just huffed, almost like he'd laughed. "I mean, it's not, but who else is gonna do it, if not me? Marvin's out of commission, and you know as well as I do that the police do fuck-all."
Chase just looked away with a thoughtful hum. Jackie had a point, he couldn't deny that.
"I gotta go. See you in a few hours, alright?"
"Stay safe, Jackie," Henrik said.
"Yeah, man… be careful out there. Shit's a mess." Chase agreed.
Jackie huffed, a smile growing on his face. "No need to worry, guys. I'll be fine, trust me." And with that, he was out the door.
Henrik turned the news off with a sigh, recalling his ever-present fear of watching the news on a late night only to hear that the city's famed vigilante, Jackieboy Man, was dead. Every time he left the house, he mentally prepared himself for that day, and every time he hoped it never came.
"Well…" Chase spoke up, breaking the uneasy silence. "I'm gonna go shower. Gotta get this blood off me."
"Yes, good… good idea," Henrik nodded, clearly preoccupied.
"Um, Chase, if you don't mind my asking, how did you get blood on you in the first place?" Marvin asked.
Chase looked to Marvin with saddened eyes. "Had to witness a puppet killing someone… was too close when it happened. I'm never gonna forget that… the look on their face… the way they screamed…" Chase could only sigh, hugging himself. He shook his head, turning towards the stairs. "I… I need to be alone for a while…" With that, he left to go grab some clean clothes and a towel from his room so he could get cleaned up.
There was a heavy silence lingering in the room after Chase left, thick as the blankets covering Marvin and twice as suffocating. Finally, letting out a breath as if to push away some of the fog-like tension to give himself a little breathing room, Henrik turned away from the TV and headed towards the closet under the stairs. "Marvin, you said you wanted a cloth for the head, yes?"
Marvin perked up at his name, looking towards Henrik. "Er, y-yes, uh… yes, that would… help…"
Henrik nodded, fetching a small washcloth and heading towards the kitchen sink. He turned on the faucet and let the water run over his hand, adjusting the temperature between hot and cold until he was sure that it was cool and not cold. He then grabbed a spare bowl, filled it with the water, and headed back over to the couch. He took great care in dipping the folded washcloth in the water, wringing it out, and placing it over Marvin's forehead, though Marvin expected nothing less from a doctor.
"How does that feel? Good?"
"Yes, thank you. I appreciate it," Marvin answered with a nod.
"Is there anything else you need?"
"No, not at all. Thank you, though." His answer was honest, but even if he did need something, he wouldn't dare ask. Not right now.
With a simple nod, Henrik rose, heading for the basement. He wasn't gone for very long, but when he came back up, Marvin noticed that he was now wearing gloves. He watched with intrigue as Henrik went about setting down some paper towels on the kitchen floor. Then, Henrik began to set the grocery bags on the paper towels, carrying as many over as he could at one time until all the bags were moved. It was only then that Marvin was able to see the blood splattered on some of the plastic bags. He'd been previously confused, but now what Henrik was doing made sense. He continued to silently watch as Henrik took off the gloves and set them aside, grabbed a new pair from his pocket, and put them on. He began to sort the groceries, putting away the food items and setting aside the medicines and Band-Aids and the like to be stored downstairs with the first-aid supplies.
Once the food was put away and the medicine separated, Henrik grabbed as many medicines as he could in his arms and headed for the basement stairs. It took him two trips to get everything down, though when he came back up he brought with him a biohazard bin. All the plastic bags, paper towels, and the first pair of gloves were tossed in. He then grabbed some more paper towels and a bottle of some sort of cleanser Marvin didn't recognize right away and began to spray and wipe down the area by the door where Chase had dropped the bags. Once everything was clean and put away, he headed back downstairs with the bin, and when he came up he was empty-handed and no longer wearing his gloves. He settled himself into the armchair with a sigh, letting himself get lost in his thoughts. Not a word was spoken between him and Marvin. Eventually the pair heard Chase come out of the bathroom, the opening and closing of one door, and then the opening and closing of another. Chase didn't come back downstairs after that. Eventually Henrik, too, excused himself, mentioning he was going back downstairs to check on Jack for a bit, leaving Marvin alone in the living room.
That thick duvet of silence never truly left, but as the number of people within the room dwindled, it grew ever heavier, threatening to swallow everything that remained there, Marvin included. With a heavy, tired sigh, however, he decided he wouldn't let it, instead allowing his mind to wander, to silently fill the space with his own muted noise. And he simply waited, waited for Henrik to return, for Chase to come back downstairs. For Jackie to come home.
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miss-choco-chips · 4 years
Text
What if- Janet Drake was a good mom
Hers.
This little… warm and squishy ball of spit was hers. 
Her son.
His eyes still not defined, bald little head fragile under her hand and so, so vulnerable, she wouldn’t have believed he had come out of her  if not for the pain still lingering on her body and the vomit stains on that hateful nurse’s shirt, the one that talked to Janet in cooing, condescendent voice during the whole birthing process. Her son had rightfully avenged her honor by burping all over her the moment she took him out of his mother’s arms.
Her arms.
God, she was a mother. She was this baby’s mother.
Sitting by her bedside with his stupid, well meaning smile, Jack apologised half heartedly at the nurse, ignoring the proud look his wife was giving the little creature back on her grasp. He had given up on trying to take him from her, too. The almost hiss he had gotten after the first three tries was enough to let him know that wouldn’t fly well a fourth time. Slow, but he had learned not to come between a new mother and her child. Specially not a vicious, dangerous new mother like her.
-So, what’s this cutie’s name? -asked the (still annoyingly chirpy) nurse, notepad at the ready.
Jack looked at his wife and waited. He had asked for the middle name to be Jackson -which had gotten him an eye roll from the back then still pregnant lady-, and let the first one for her to decide. He hadn't tried to argue that right out of her, because, well, he valued his life and health and, despite what many people thought, wasn’t completely stupid.
Janet looked down to the- to her baby, and smiled lightly. Still high from the thrill of having brought to life something so perfect, it took her barely a moment to decide. 
-Timothy. Timothy Jackson Drake.
To honor God, in thanks -if he or her actually existed- for having let one of their angels down to earth and into her arms.
Yes, she was still hormonal for giving birth, So sue her.
The nurse cooed and took her baby again, to clean him up and measure him.
He vomited on the neckline of her scrubs this time, directly on skin.
Janet laughed.
Her son.
---.---
The party was socially required and expected. It would stain both her and Jack’s reputation if they didn’t give in to the unspoken rule. People would  no doubt start wondering why weren’t they showing off their offspring. What was wrong with them. 
What was wrong with him.
That, mainly, was what got Janet to accept it and organize the whole affair. In between, of course, to leading the company and tending to Timothy. If it was only about her, she’d first let the whole world burn than subject her son to the stupid but voracious pack of wolves that Gotham’s elite was, but if they started talking shit about him, her options were to give in to their demands or silence them the easy way. And, after a quick talk with her lawyer, she decided on the actually legal option.
Not that she couldn't get away with the other one. But she wasn’t about to contaminate her hands, the hands that held her son, with those fools’ blood. What if stupidity was contagious? She wasn’t taking that risk. Jack’s genes were enough of a wild card as it was.
A tea party seemed the most appropriate option. A ball would upset Timothy’s carefully planned sleeping schedule (as in, closely monitored so any time he woke up at night, it would always fall in Jack’s designated ‘baby duty’ hours; two weeks into it, she expected another three before he catched on), and with a tea afternoon she had an excuse to disappear back into the Mannor when -not if; when- their half witted guests started to get too much on her nerves, claiming ‘Timothy’s bedtime’ as a perfect getaway.
Halfway through it, though, she realized it wasn’t all bad. No one tried to hold her baby -men probably too uninterested in the actual child beyond the expected pleasantries, the women scared away by her ‘I fucking dare you, bitch’ glare-, Jack was properly entertained by tending to the guests, the staff doing a good job of maintaining the insides of the closed off awning at the proper temperature to keep the star of the party from catching a cold, and anyone entering the place came bearing an offering to Timothy, like peasants at a deity’s temple. It was satisfying to watch. 
‘He’s going to be everyone here’s boss, one day. The city will be his’, Janet smiled, accepting with a tilted head another gift, adding it to the growing pile on the big chest she ordered for the occasion, every socialite trying to outdo the former one.
It was going perfectly fine, and she had almost forgotten her reluctance to the whole thing, when everything inevitably crashed and burned.
Because there were a set of arms extended in her direction, accompanied by a polite ‘May I?’.
If the reaction of the people closest to her was an indication, the sound that came out of her mouth was an actual growl. Instinctively, she drew her arms closer to her chest, baby hold as tight as possible, as if she might protect him better like that.
Timothy, the angel, didn’t protest. He barely ever cried, and never when with her. Just gazed up at her face, his own eyes starting to gain pigment day by day, looking now almost completely like hers a good month after his birth. 
Hers.
Jack appeared by her elbow in barely a second, a wonder since he was at the other side of the backyard the last time she saw him, entertaining people in the farthest of the awnings she had had set. Nicole, her lawyer and one of the few people she was willing to call a friend, was at her other side a moment later, sider glass at hand and looking between her and the brave -stupid- man with equal parts amusement and trepidation.
Bruce Wayne was asking her for a turn holding her child. Nineteen year old Brucie, who had just come back to Gotham after his nine year ‘sabbatical’ from who knows where, with a high school title she was almost completely certain he had faked. Brucie, who acted as a fried brained, goofy, easy going guy, well meaning despite his supposed shortcomings in the mind department. Who was her playmate a time or two during their childhood, which is why she knew he was too damn smart to be who he showed to the society.
Or, maybe not so smart. He was asking for her baby, after all.
For a minute, Janet merely assessed him, two predators staring the other down, looking for weakness, soft spots to sink teeth into. Literally, in her case, if he tried to pry her son away. There was the shadow of amusement hidden behind the dumb, fake smile in his face. The bastard probably was asking just to watch her try to summon her inner meta human and fry him with heat vision. Oh, if only.
While she was busy staring down the threat and looking for an answer stronger than ‘fuck no’, Jack pulled a quick one over her, sliding his arms between hers, retrieving the still and warm bundle, and depositing him in Wayne’s arms, all in one smooth move.
The betrayal. Jack was sleeping on a guest’s room for the next year. How dare he give her child away? And to this man, of everyone? Smart as she may know him to be, who could promise her no harm would come to Timothy so far away from her arms?
Gods above, what if Wayne dropped him? Then she would have to throw him off a plane. Into open waters. Right in the middle of a shark circle. Tied up. 
With rocks weighing his feet.
Nicole gently grasped her upper arm, just below the dress’ sleeve (a lovely red, perfect for hiding blood stains), a gesture that might have gotten her a hole on her toes the exact size of Janet’s stiletto heel, hadn’t she been busy watching Wayne accomodate his arms to better hold her son.
At least he was supporting his head. He wasn’t a complete fool, then. Not like Jack, who might as well start writing his will (dedicated entirely to her and their son, of course).
-He… -Wayne wasn’t looking at her anymore (in any other situation, where he wasn’t holding precious cargo, a mistake), eyes drawn to Timothy’s, who returned the gesture without a hint of fear.
-He, what? -barked the offended mother, now held in both sides by best friend and husband, the only force keeping her from making a scene.
The young man smiled, still not parting his gaze from the baby. She could understand the sentiment; it was hard to look away from perfection like that.
-He looks like you -was the honest answer. A finger carefully caressed the soft, round cheek, and Timothy’s toothless mouth parted in a pure, innocent, bright giggle.
Well. Maybe Wayne wasn’t quite so bad. He’d be allowed to live another day.
-What was his name, again?
Relaxing a little, since he seemed to have an adequate grasp on the baby, Janet composed herself and answered.
-Timothy Jackson Drake.
The blank expression that overtook the man for a second when the middle name was pronounced made her feel slightly vindicated. She, too, thought it dumb the need to put himself plus the word ‘son’ on a baby. As if they didn’t already know Timothy was his. Whatever, she couldn’t complain. Any other choice about their son was hers to make, she couldn’t exactly deny Jack that one request.
Said child choose that moment to move, raising his tiny arm from the depths of his blankets, catching Wayne’s finger in a miniscule fist.
Janet saw the exact second the man melted. Huh. Well, there was an idea.
Not like it was needed, but the love and protection of one of the most rich men on earth, the richest in Gotham, might end working up on Timothy's favor. One could never have too many minions willing to put themselves at risk for their master’s wellbeing, after all.
Janet looked at Wayne, playfully moving the finger in her son’s grasp, eliciting another laugh from him in payment, and let her mind whirl.
----.----.
A little over a week later found Janet sitting on the floor next to her desk, important documents scattered around her. Timothy was napping in her lap, hence why she wasn’t on the chair (too much of a risk of falling), while she worked. Jack had been sent to entertain the board of directors of DI, one of the only chores she trusted him to not fuck up without her supervision, so mother and son had the evening to themselves.
That was, until the phone rang. Snake-quick, she raised a hand and snatched it from the desk, eyes scanning her son’s sleeping face to make sure he hadn’t woke. When she was assured, she held the device to her ear.
-Really, Jannie? Wayne? You choose Wayne as a godfather? Did giving birth melt your brain?
Swiftly, she hanged up. Then, just in case, she stretched her arm and unplugged the machine. 
Five minutes later, the butler came in, holding her cellphone (which she never had on herself during Tim’s nap time) on a silver platter. She waved him away.
Half an hour passed, and Nicole walked into her favorite tea room while she was breastfeeding her baby. Her venom-green eyes shone gleefully, kinda like they did when she utterly crushed her opponents in court.
Because she was her best friend, and Jantet reluctantly liked her, she had sent the lawyer a copy of Timothy’s daily schedule, so to be sure Nicole would never interrupt it and thus get murdered by his mother. It was no coincidence she entered the room just as Tim was finishing his evening feeding.
-Janet, wonderful to see you! 
-Tell that brain dead, lavender wearing fool that I’m not taking his call.
The other woman barreled on, ignoring her. She was lucky she was holding her son; more difficult to dismember someone.
-Aww, how’s my little baby godson? Had a good nap? 
Sighing, Janet offered the bundle of spit and genius that was her baby to her for burping duty, something she didn’t even do with his father.
-Hello, Nicole, nice to see you too. Or it would be, had I actually invited you over -she played along, accepting a cup of coffee from the maid while Nicole sat at the other side of the small table, baby held against her shoulder, little towel protecting her blouse from any substance the baby might cough up.
She would hope he puked all over her, but that would mean he’d have an upset stomach. So she switched to hoping Nicole would spontaneously combust.
-Oh Jan, you say the funniest things. Hey, one guess as to who called me half an hour ago!
Finally to the point- Tell that waste of space, colorblind idiot that if he wants to keep his place in the stock market, to never bother me again when I’m spending quality time with my son.
-He was sleeping, Jan.
-Are you a mother? No. Shut up.
Nicole rolled her eyes, and, after a few burps, cradled the baby more securely in her arms. Timothy immediately started playing with her long necklace, which she probably wore for that particular purpose, as she wasn’t particularly fond of such colorful jewelry.
-Can you even drink coffee while you’re breastfeeding? 
A scowl- It’s decaffeinated. I’m just desperate for even a taste. I have the service saving all the empty cans of this aberration, and I’m making a burning pyre with them the moment I’m allowed to drink the good kind again.
Nicole threw her head back and laughed, long black hair tragically held in a bun to keep away from the baby’s greedy chubby fingers.
-The doctor ordered it for Timmy’s good, I’m sure you can’t be that mad about it.
-I’m sure your parents must have indulged in far more dangerous vices during your conception and pregnancy, and you don’t seem worse for that.
-That’s as close a compliment I’m ever getting from you, huh? It doesn’t change the fact that I’m not your secretary, Jan. Pick up the damn phone, if only to tell Luthor to stop calling me to reach you.
As on cue, Nicole’s phone, carefully placed in the table between them, rang. Both women stared it down for a few seconds, before locking eyes. When the loud noise started making Timothy grumble and whine, Janet sighed and picked it.
-What do you want, you sad excuse of a businessman?
-So it was a good idea to call your lawyer. Hello, Janet, how is your afternoon?
-Getting worse by the minute.
-That’s no way to speak to your dear old friend.
And she couldn’t even have her usual migraine medication. Now she understood why many women choose to hire someone else for breastfeeding; if she trusted anyone else with her son to that degree, she might have done the same.
-And speaking of things that are rude to do to your favorite people, choosing someone else as godfather for your one and only son is quite the insult.
Nicole, even though she couldn’t hear the other end of the line, was smirking as she rocked the baby. Seemingly having the time of her life.
-One; you are not, by a long shot, one of my favorites. That’s a list of two, and you wouldn’t  make the cut even if one of them died.
-Timothy and Jack?
-Timothy and Nicole. Jack is currently being punished for daring give my son to someone else, and has been demoted.
-Hmm. And two?
-Two: who’s to say I’m not having another child?
-Please, you wouldn’t be able to go another year without coffee.
True, but still- Don’t presume to know my limits.
-Why him? -Insisted the man, and if they weren’t such good friends (and old classmates, from back in the day) she would have thrown the phone halfway across the rome at his pathetic whine- Is this an insult to me? Are you trying to communicate your displeasure over something I did lately? You could have done that a thousand ways, without giving such a honor to someone like Wayne.
She sighed. Nicole’s attention turned to the baby currently patting at her chin, and she let her eyes wander over them both.
-I needed someone willing to risk his life for my baby. Wayne seems like the kind of man that would, if he cares enough for someone.
-And you’re saying I wouldn’t. That…
-...is completely true. You would kill, and let other people die, and for that I already have someone -Nicole blinked in her direction, venomous green eyes stone cold for half a second before her smirk took the edge off it-. Wayne is here to provide light heartedness, and if the situation called for it… well. And you, as my friend and business partner, are bound to provide safe sanctuary when he undoubtedly reaches adolescence and runs from home in a rebellious bout.
-Still a pathological need to plan sixteen years into the future, I see.
-Still a pathological need to be chosen first, I see. I’m having memories of back in school when someone was elected first for a team during PE.
----.----.
Her baby is a genius. Of course, it was expected, being her son and everything; but with Jack’s ‘normal’ genes in the way, it was a coin toss as to whether he’d take after her or him.
He starts talking way before other babies do. Momma, Dadda, I’ole for his godmother, Bose for his godfather, and Atez for Lex. He knew how to ask for water or food, and to be carried. He had also learned to walk, although clumsily, and would be seen following after Janet’s skirts as she circled around the Manor attending to her various duties.
She was so proud of him. So excited each day, floating in a cloud of wonder of ‘what will he learn next?’, ‘how will he surprise me today?’. Nicole and Alexander were a stronger than ever presence in their lives, with Timothy as an excuse to visit as often as she would allow. And, in the softness granted to her by motherhood, she was far more lenient than she’d ever been. Still bringing fear into the hearts of whoever dared cross her but… less bloodthirsty, if her best friend’s words were to be believed.
Then, Jack came, practically demolishing her peacefulness and joy  with all the grace and delicacy of a grinning, hammer wielding moron.
-Dear! I got the perfect site for the next digging.
Time seems to stop, for her, as breathing turns suddenly an unachievable chore and her steely eyes bore into her husband’s happy ones. 
Jack, who seems to have forgotten about the very same baby currently in Janet’s arms, who had her blouse in a tight grip -as if suspecting of the situation, keeping her close-, drooling a little over the little blanket handmade by Wayne’s butler.
Her little bundle of spit, snot and genius. Her baby.
She had known, intellectually, that things were bound to change, the moment her baby was born. She had all but decided, back then, that she’d hire some good  babysitter and keep going things the way she liked them, flying from digging site to digging site, remotely managing the company and meeting her friends at fancy galas. With enough money, keeping her lifestyle, and still get her son the care he needed, without her sacrificing anything, was affordable.
But now, it was different. If she went, she would be sacrificing things. She’d be leaving the chance of seeing her son grow behind. She would be putting him in someone else’s arms and hope they’d raise him the way she wanted. 
Her son. Hers.
She looked down to the baby in her arms, and then up at her husband. Jack loved archeology, he would be leaving with or without her. 
Breathing in deeply, Janet made her choice.
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someartistsammy · 4 years
Text
Hi here’s a masterpost of Lillian in the og MCD.
This includes when she appears, what episodes, what she says, etc.
Apologies if any of this seems like rambling/ if it’s slightly messy. Looking at the date on the notepad document this was all originally kept in, the date is that of 7/8/19, so a little over a year ago.
First Appearance:
Episode 90 of S1, "Mask in the Trees"
Time Stamp: 12:40
Lillian is hidden in the trees near where Kiki's baby shower is taking place, she's noticed by Garroth who leaves his stance to quickly follow her. He rushes after her through the trees and out the gates of Phoenix drop, She's fast and loses Garroth quickly- but not before they both run towards the forest and into it, Garroth rounds some trees before finding Aphmau and Laurance kissing, to which he turns back around and runs away, after Garroth has left, it's shown that this is not Aphmau and Laurance, but rather an illusion or shape-shifting illusion that Lillian has created, (It's more likely to have been a shape-shifting illusion as this is shown to be what Lillian is good at- altering her appearance). She laughs after morphing back, before the screen fades to black. Aphmau is left to wonder where Garroth disappeared to.
---
Second Appearance/ not a physical appearance:
Episode 91 of S1, "Respect for Irene"
Time Stamp: 1:15
After the murder of Jeffory, Zane is standing at his window before his communication amulet starts going off, we can only hear whispers coming from it, but it's heavily implied that it's Lillian. We can hear Zane say "She's there with her? Katelyn mentioned nothing of this.. hm.." before more whispers come through the amulet. Zane quickly replies with "No, leave it be. This is much better" some more whispers before Zane picks up with "He would be perfect to fill the new role that just opened up." as the scene ends off with Zane laughing.
In this scene it's pretty implied that Lillian was well using her abilities as a spy to look around Phoenix drop- and in this case, realized that Katelyn was staying there with Aphmau, and docked there, without having told Zane. It can also be assumed that the next whispers are asking if Lillian should do anything about it, before Zane's replying to leave it be- and it being better. It can also be inferred that Lillian is next talking about Garroth and how he ran away- probably feeling betrayed- and that is confirmed as we learn in later episodes. Probably asking if she should do something about it- or maybe bring him back to O'Khasis, with this we hear Zane reply about how he would be perfect to fill the new role that had opened up- in this case becoming the ninth Jury of Nine member after he had killed Jeffory not moments before- which had dropped the Jury down to eight members.
---
Third Appearance
Episode 92 of S1, "Gate of Phoenix Drop"
Time Stamp: 22:15
Lillian is waiting on the inside of the gate, she is in her civilian appearance, she seems to be chatting with Cadenza as Aphmau approaches Brian and talks to him while trying to figure out who Lillian is. Brian lets her inside the gate after he questions her multiple times and checks her travel items. He says that she's a very sweet gal and that she's introduced herself as a fortune teller. Text time babey
Lillian: "Oh! A good day to you! I'm sorry I didn't notice you before, Ms. Cadenza here had been talking the world to me, hehe. Um, my name is Lillian. May I ask your name? Aphmau: "Good day Lillian, my name is Aphmau"
Lillian: "Aphmau, what a lovely--- Aphmau!? You mean the LORD of the village!?"
Aphmau: "How do you know that?"
Lillian: "Cadenza here has been talking so much about you! I'm honored to be in the presence of a woman such as yourself... your endeavors have reached the ears of many villages near and far. //She bows to Aphmau//
Aphmau/Jess rambling a bit: "If you're talking about the thing in Brightport, yeah that was a while ago and I guess I have helped other villages too but, Brian tells me your a fortune teller?
Lillian: "Fortune Teller...? Gah! That sounds so... merchant-y, no, no... I am not a "fortune teller" I am a recognized prophet. I've had visions come to me multiple times of which have come true. You can ask many a Lord, I have predicted famines, drought, love... you name it."
Aphmau: "Wow- I-is that a magicks?"
Lillian: "A kind yes, though it's also not in a way... it's a little difficult to explain. I still don't quite understand it myself but here I am! I'm just traveling the world right now, so... if you don't mind Lord Aphmau, may I please request sanctuary in your village? I'm just passing through and I won't be any trouble at all I swear! In fact I plan to help while I'm here, Cadenza is telling me of someone named Garroth and how he's sick, I happen to be a herb specialist as well- I can help make something to nurse him back to health. So, would you have me...?
Aphmau: "//whispering// after all that's happened here.... //audibly// yes, just try to stay out of trouble Lillian, please."
Lillian: "Yes mam'! I sure will! Thank you, thank you so much!"
//Aphmau then turns to look at Cadenza.//
Cadenza: "Aphmau! I was out picking some herbs to try to make a potion I was reading in a book that might make Garroth better when i saw Brian talking to this lovely woman with this BEAUTIFUL outfit. I just had to come say "Hi" to her and she's such a sweetheart! I've asked her to help with Garroth so hopefully we'll have Garroth back by tomorrow! Thank you so much for allowing her to stay here! I'm so worried about Garroth."
The episode ends off with Cadenza leading Lillian into the guard station, followed by Cookie.
---
Fourth & Fifth Appearance
Episode 93 of S1, "At Our Doors"
Time Stamp: 0:00
The episode starts off with Garroth walking/ sneaking out of his ??"room??" in the guard station (maybe bunk is a better word) to grab some breakfast left outside his door before Lillian comes up the ladder and asks "Garroth?"
Garroth: "Uhh.. who are you?"
Lillian: "My name is Lillian and I'm new in town and I'm a medicine specialist, I'm so sorry for intruding on you like this, but Cadenza isn't here and the herb medicine I made for you is ready. Your friends wanted me to help you get better."
Garroth: "I see.. if you're a friend of Cadenza, you are welcomed, but I really just want to be alone."
Lillian: "So what exactly is wrong with you?"
Garroth: "It's really nothing, I'm not actually sick."
Lillian: "So.. you're pretending?"
Garroth: "No I really don't feel well.. well."
Lillian: "I can't help you if you don't tell me what's wrong."
Garroth: "I'm sorry but.. a broken heart isn't something anyone can help me with.."
Lillian: "Sometimes.. talking about it helps."
//there's a large jump in time to the end of the episode//
Time Stamp: 22:22
We see Lillian leave the guard station before going around to the back of it and pulling out the communication amulet before altering her appearance into her masked appearance.
---
Sixth Appearance
Episode 94 of S1, "The Stranger"
Time Stamp: 16:20
Aphmau has just walked into her house, followed by Laurance, the camera then switches to Garroth and Lillian out on the patio of the guard station, the training dummy behind them. Garroth slowly lowers his head followed by Lillian who looks to him lightly before stepping closer to him. Garroth then turns around to look at her and they share a glance but then Garroth turns around and walks into the guard station.
---
Seventh Appearance
Episode 95 of S1, "Call to Arms"
Time Stamp: 16:20
Aphmau is startled awake by Aaron who is at her bedside, he's snuck into her house and woken her up to have her look outside.
Aphmau: "wh.. what are you doing here."
Aaron: "Shh, not a word... I need you to get out of bed and look out the window. Now."
Aphmau stumbles out of her bed confused but looks out to see Lillian walking down the path to Katelyn's boat, looking around to see if anyone has spotted her.
Aphmau: "Wh.. what? That looks like Lillian.."
Aaron: "She's been avoiding the guards all night and acting suspicious... we should follow her."
Aphmau: "Okay.. we can do that. Let's go."
Aphmau and Aaron are in the next scene sneaking down the hill by the docks and hiding in the trees. We're greeted to a cut scene of Katelyn and Lillian staring each other down.
Aphmau: "I don't understand.. why is she?"
//it cuts to the others//
Lillian: "So... tell me Katelyn... what exactly have you been doing here this whole time?"
Katelyn: "I've been standing my guard just like I was commanded to do."
Lillian: "Hm, you're a woman of great power..."
Katelyn: "My thanks, as to you as well Lillian."
Lillian: "Only difference is... I'm a woman of greater power."
//Lillian then grabs out her scythe and holds it up to Katelyn, part of it resting barely inches from her chest while the actual scythe bit rests almost gently against Katelyn's shoulder//
//Aphmau quietly gasps//
Lillian: "Katelyn... Zane mentioned you failed to report that Nicole was here in Phoenix Drop... tell me why is that...?"
Katelyn: "I did not see her. My job was to check up on the Lord of Phoenix Drop. Nicole would have been a good way to win Zane's favor, so if I knew she was here... why would I pass an opportunity like that up?"
Lillian: "Unflinching as ever Katelyn... you members of the Jury of Nine never fail to impress me."
Katelyn: "We don't need to impress a woman like you."
Lillian: "Fine. ...I'll make sure Zane knows you've been wasting time here. Until then Phoenix Drop is under your patrol, my job here is done."
//there's what sounds like a gunshot/ thunder/ the firing of a canon, etc.//
Katelyn: "Lillian"
//It then cuts to a first person pov of Katelyn staring down Lillian and her scythe before Katelyn moves at an insane speed through Lillian as another sound crackles in the distance//
//part of the stairs and the ground where Katelyn has moved to on the hillside has been completely destroyed//
//The next scene is Katelyn standing with her gauntlents out, back to back with Lillian. Lillian has her Scythe resting in front of her while Katelyn has a leg posed back, almost resting it on Lillian.//
//Lillian looks stunned as her arms are lightly spread and she's looking up, as where Katelyn is slightly looking down.//
//Aphmau gasps, again//
Katelyn: "Next time you threaten me. I won't miss."
Lillian: "Heh, heh, heh... duly noted."
//Lillian then runs up what's left of the stairs while Katelyn runs back to her boat//
//Aphmau is panting//
Aphmau: "I don't think.. we should be letting her.. get.. what do you think?"
Aaron: "We need to apprehend Lillian... let's move!"
Aphmau: "Agreed! Let's go!"
//it fades to black and then back as Aphmau and Aaron sprint the direction that Lillian went, they then split directions to search for her. Aphmau heads to the plaza but you can see the camera shaking as it follows Aphmau's movements as she draws her sword, camera movements similar to a figure catching their breath if it was first person pov.//
//The camera then reveals that it's Lillian watching Aphmau, Lillian is hiding in the part of the Plaza that has the most trees and is blending in with the darkness. She then takes her chance after Aphmau wanders away to book it out of there//
---
Eighth Appearance Episode 100 of S1, "The Amulet's Secret" Time Stamp: 18:48
The scene begins with Garroth handing the amulet over to Zane as Aphmau rushes into the clearing in the trees. Lillian is resting slightly behind Zane as Aphmau panics over Garroth handing it over as Zane begins to chuckle.
Zane: "You're too late, Lord Aphmau. Garroth is now a member of the Jury of Nine, he faithfully serves me."
Aphmau: "WHAT!?"
Laurance: "You obviously have him under some spell! Let him go! Now!"
//Laurance and Garroth clash swords//
Garroth: "Zane does not control my actions, he guides me down the right path, my loyalties lie with him now."
Laurance: "Garroth? You have to be kidding me... what happened to you?"
//Zane laughs//
Zane: "Can't you tell, little Laurance? Garroth has become a faithful member of the Jury of Nine, my devoted guard."
Aphmau: "N- NO! YOU'RE LYING."
Zane: "It was so easy to corrupt my poor poor big brother here, after all, the one thing he cared for in his life was suddenly ripped from him, by someone he considered to be his loyal friend. The one person he loved, and the one person he trusted, having a relationship, right behind his back. How pathetic, big brother, I can't believe you ever loved such a back-stabbing woman in the first place, now Lillian here? She's a woman of great loyalty to me, I'm glad she was there to talk to you when you needed someone Garroth, of course, I sent her to check on my beloved brother."
Garroth: "Lillian was able to talk me out of being foolish and trusting Lord Aphmau with my heart, I know better now."
Zane: "Then show them exactly what you are."
//Garroth morphs into his Jury form before taking down Laurance//
//Aphmau is close to sobbing at this point//
Aphmau: "Garroth, Why?"
Zane: "This is the form members of the Jury of Nine take when they unleash their full potential. Can't you feel the darkness radiating from his heart?"
//Katelyn then morphs into her Jury form as well//
Zane: "Look what we have here, another traitor, Garroth, relinquish her of her Jury title, now."
//Garroth then proceeds to do such,, u know,, how u do//
Zane: "You don't deserve this power. I know you, like Jeffory, are not truly loyal to me."
Laurance: "You won't get away with this you coward! Come here and fight me yourself!"
Zane: "I would love to, I truly would, however, with this amulet in my hands, I don't need to waste my time with the likes of you."
//Cut to Zane warping them all into the Irene Dimension as thunder cracks in the background with u know,, the irene dimension music yeehaw//
//cue everyone freaking out for a fair portion of time which was.. understandable//
Time Stamp: 24:52
Zane: "Finally.. it's mine.. Irene's relic.. with this added to my strength I will-"
//The relic vanishes from in front of Zane only to reappear in front of Aphmau and be absorbed into her.//
Aphmau: "Wh- What the!?"
Zane: "Wh- this- this is impossible! You can't be her! No no no no no! I've worked too hard and killed too many useless pawns for this to happen to me now! That relic will be mine even if I have to rip you appart to get it's power!"
//Zane morphs into his Jury form before laughing//
Zane: "Ripping you apart is something I've wanted to do for for so long! It's a shame you have to die, really. We could've been something special together."
Aphmau: "You know that would never happen."
//Lillian and Garroth then rush down from their spots at the top of the stairs next to Zane, with Garroth charging Laurance and Lillian charging Katelyn. both duos clash weapons//
//Zane jumps down from the top in the middle before continuing//
Zane: "What a shame!"
//He then proceeds to charge Aphmau only to clash swords with Aaron//
Zane: "You.."
Aaron: "You won't get out of here this time."
Zane: "Hahaha.. funny, I was about to say that to you as well."
//Cut to Garroth and Laurance//
Laurance: "Garroth! Why are you doing this!?"
Garroth: "Zane is the only who cares for me like a true brother!"
Laurance: "Are you even listening to yourself right now!? He tried to hurt the people you are sworn to protect!"
Garroth: "How can I protect when my heart gets ripped to shreds by the woman I loved, and the so-called brother I trusted!"
Laurance: "Garroth snap out of it! If this is about Aphmau and love, then why!?"
Garroth: "What do you mean why!? You know DAMN well why!"
Laurance: "Garroth, I understand that you love Aphmau, however, you have to be willing to accept the fact she might not return those feelings, can't you see how corrupt this has made you become?"
//Garroth tsks//
Laurance: "Look at me! You are not defined by the person you love, you are Garroth, protector of the innocent, sworn to love and care for those in need. When did the Garroth I know allow himself to be consumed by one person's love, you cannot be jealous of every man she meets forever. You'll just drive her away from you. You have to let go before you can truly be Garroth, a Garroth worthy to protect others!"
//Garroth removes his helmet as Zane strikes Aaron to the ground//
Zane: "hahahaha what a pathetic fool.. I should've killed you along with your entire village the day the amulet cursed you. Now for you.."
Aphmau: "Ugh.. when I get my hands on you Zane.."
Zane: "Don't worry, I'm losing my fiance remember? You promised your hand to me at the wall. This will hurt you more than it hurts me."
//Zane goes to strike down Aphmau before Garroth interrupts, this scene proceeds how we been knew//
//Zoey appears with the portal as Katelyn whirls around, leaving Lillian's dead body on the floor, closing this entire thing and GOD SHE DID NOT GET ENOUGH STORYLINE AND SCREENTIME WHAT THE HELL//
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slash-em-up · 4 years
Text
Marry Your Monsters Pt. 11
What’s that thing they say about the best laid plans?
------------------------------------------------------
Miranda was beginning to understand how Spann had gotten so far in Jesse’s business.
The woman was a terrifying marvel.
After Lisa and Miranda had agreed to do whatever they could to aid Jesse/protect Miranda/fuck up Preston’s hostile take-over plans, Spann had immediately put them to work.
The pair were barricaded in Spann’s office, pouring over every single contract and document Preston had signed or presented in the last three years.
Well, more like, Lisa was scanning the Organization’s archive and Miranda was reviewing the legal-ese.
Spann had also conjured up Miranda’s bag - and she was more than happy to change out of her shredded, sweaty, bloody dress into a pair of clean jeans and a tee-shirt. Feeling more like an actual person than she had in several hours, Miranda was fully focused on the screen before her - absorbing each tiny detail of the documents and noting anything even slightly suspicious on a notepad. She had nearly filled this one. Preston had been a very busy boy.
It also offered an emotionless peek behind the curtain of The Organization’s dealings - which was the only way Miranda felt she could process things right now. Even so, as dispassionately as it was laid out, it was still hard to read.
God, how could she have been so blind?
She’d been married to a serial-killer for over four years and she hadn’t suspected a thing. It would have been embarrassing if it wasn’t so damn sad.
Throughout their engagement and their marriage, Jesse had seemed dead-set on keeping his promise to make her the happiest woman in the world; and when he’d asked if she’d thought about having a baby she hadn’t hesitated. They’d be the perfect family.
Of course, every couple had their problems - she just hadn’t expected the gilded glow of her own to tarnish in quite the way it had.
It would have been so much easier if he’d just been having an affair.
Her train of thought was interrupted by Lisa laying a gentle hand on her shoulder.
“Hey, you doing okay? Do you need a break?”
Miranda gave the dark-haired woman a small smile. Maybe it was because they were in very similar situations; but she’d immediately taken a liking to Lisa.
“No, I think the work is helping me stay sane right now; but I’d kill for a cup of coffee.”
Miranda winced. Well, she couldn’t use that particular hyperbolic statement anymore.
Lisa grinned, giving her stomach a look, then raising an eyebrow back at the blonde.
“And would that be spiked or…”
A small chuckle escaped as Miranda looked woefully down at her pregnant belly.
“Spiked, with a side of jalapeno poppers. It’s been a hell of a day.”
Lisa laughed.
“I’ll get you some hot water and lemon. Basically the same thing, right?”
“Right.”
The other woman left, leaving Miranda to return to the contract she’d been perusing.
She was interrupted again as a loud electronic shrieking sounded out from the hall speakers.
Reflexively, her hands shot up to cover her ears until the reverberating sound of a tearful female voice echoed over the din.
‘Mom! Mom… I don’t…where I… find… PLEASE!’
Fuck, fuck, fuck…
Miranda stood, pacing as quickly as she could toward the office door before coming to an abrupt halt.
This was exactly the kind of thing that would get her killed… or captured… or whatever the fuck Preston wanted with her. Honestly it was like a badly written action movie. Female lead goes off and does something stupid - gets herself taken - hero comes in, guns blazing and saves the day.
The summer blockbuster formula almost made her gag. And she very much doubted that Jesse would be in the rescuing mood if her grand scheme ended with whoever he’d kidnapped escaping.
Miranda paced the room, biting at her thumbnail, waiting as long as she could for some kind of sign that she should take action.
A loud scream echoing down the hall clinched it.
She was about to do something very, very stupid.
-------------------------------------------------------
Jesse sincerely hoped he never had to play poker with Spann. She would win, hands down.
They both sat in Jesse’s office as Spann assisted him in the now pitifully difficult job of shaving his head.
She’d found him standing over the razor and steaming bowl - bare-faced and glaring down at them, trying to work out how he was going to be able to do this himself.
Mirrors were for people with faces… and potentially hazardous self-grooming was for people with two functioning eyes.
God he really was pathetic.
Preston’s assistants face had been blank and still as she’d asked to shave him; which was probably the only reason he hadn’t gutted her simply for walking in on him.
She hadn’t offered him pity or framed it as her ‘helping’ him.
He appreciated that.
It also gave him an opportunity to check in on what his traitorous fixer was up to.
‘It’s not the mask that’s intimidating… it’s the man behind it…’
While Jesse did actually agree with the statement, the fact that is was coming from Preston was pretty fucking hilarious.
‘Kills three people and he thinks he’s Michael Myers…’
“He’s mocking you now? He decides who lives or dies?” Spann sounded disgusted.
‘It’s time for a change in personnel, just not the one Preston wants.’ Jesse signed, tilting his head so Spann could scrape the sharp metal over his temple.
The woman didn’t pause in her careful movements; but Jesse could see the slight tilt of her lips as she absorbed his words.
“You’re making the right decision.”
She gently toweled the soap from his scalp, running her hands over it to check her work.
“This will all go smoothly.”
Jesse stood from the chair, towering over the small woman who’d just earned her place at his right hand.
‘Take care of it; but leave Preston to me.’
Spann smiled.
“Yes, sir.”
Stepping over to his computer, Jesse took great joy in telling Preston he was out - Spann leaning just barely out of the camera’s eyeline to appreciate the look of shock and horror on Preston’s face before he casually flicked his camera off.
If the pair had been paying a little closer attention to their other screen, they just might have seen a shape move awkwardly out from behind a coffin and make their way slowly closer to Jessica and Tommy.
-------------------------------------------------------
This was a bad idea, this was a bad idea, this was a bad idea…
Miranda could have slapped herself for being so impulsive. What the hell was she thinking? Even on her best days she was far from sneaky, and it was even harder to slink around when you couldn’t see the floor to avoid tripping hazards.
She bent down as low as she could to hide behind an open casket lid while she waited for Preston to finish talking to a half-naked girl.
Miranda winced in sympathy as Preston got close to the poor kid. She looked terrified, and with good reason.
The boy Preston had dragged in looked like he was down for the count too.
She wished she’d taken a moment to grab Jesse’s knife from the office - the damn thing was the definition of ‘style over substance’; but it would have been better than nothing.
Thankfully, she was close enough to hear everything Preston was saying.
He really was that much of a prick, huh?
A surprising surge of protective anger flooded through her as she listened to Preston go off about Jesse.
‘Hey, that’s my fucking serial-killer you’re talking about, asshole!’
Miranda groaned silently.
She’d deal with that particular bullshit after the girl was safely out of here… And then she’d deal with the other flavors of bullshit this whole mess had turned up, not the least of which was protecting her serial-killer from the OTHER serial-killer who was staging the murderer’s equivalent of the Russian Revolution.
“This is gonna be over quick, alright? See one way or another, one of us is going to slice you.”
Preston smashed the boys head into the concrete floor before hoisting him up and walking him over to a large bank of computer screens.
Miranda shifted slightly as Preston spoke casually into the still air.
“Hey boss, you ah, you recognize this kid? He was with the girl in Ashville?”
Oh fuck, that’s why he looked so familiar.
He was the boy from the store. He’d been there when Jesse was trying to kill the prostitute.
She had to get them out. There wasn’t any question in her mind.
A sharp beeping from the largest screen brought Miranda’s attention back to the scene. A familiar silhouette filled it, and what Jesse wrote next was… surprising.
YOUR POSTION AT
THE ORGANIZATION IS
NO LONGER REQUIRED.
Then the screen went black.
Preston stood, frozen, staring at the blank monitor for a few seconds as the two captives sat tearfully at his feet.
When he did move, Preston bent down, muttering something to the pair too low for Miranda to hear, before stepping out of sight.
Miranda made her move.
As slowly and quietly as possible, she slipped out from behind the casket lid.
The sneakers she’d replaced her sandals with made the barest of squeaking noises as she tip-toed over to the bound pair.
It would be a lie to say the comical widening of the boy’s eyes wasn’t a little funny - but she supposed it was fair to say he probably wasn’t expecting an enormously pregnant woman with bruises and a bandaged arm to come to their rescue.
If she’d heard correctly, the girl was legally blind… or almost… so she wasn’t surprised that she was a little slower on the uptick than her fellow captive.
But when the girl did notice Miranda had to jolt forward to cover the girls mouth as she inhaled sharply. She couldn’t risk too much noise, and she offered the girl an apologetic look when she finally lowered her hand.
“Sorry.” Miranda whispered.
“What the fuck?!”
Tommy scooted back on his ass to get a better look at her.
“Jesus, lady what are you doing here?!”
Miranda frowned.
“None of your fucking business. Just know I’m here to help. I’m gonna get you out.”
The girl looked up at her with watery eyes.
“I’m Jess.”
That nearly made Miranda snort. Of course she was. Hopefully Jessica would be less trouble for her than Jesse.
“I’m Tommy.”
“And her name is Miranda.”
A voice from behind caused all three of them to freeze, Jess and Tommy looking fearfully over Miranda’s shoulder.
Fuck. She knew this would happen.
“Hello Preston.”
Miranda stood, turning slowly to face the man in black; making sure to keep the kids behind her.
“Did you come back to clean out your office? I heard you got the shaft. Too bad.”
Preston smiled, showing all his teeth as his hands formed into fists.
“Ah yeah, Jesse gave me my walking papers. But what in the world are you doing down here?”
Miranda circled as Preston did, making sure he always stayed in her direct line of sight.
“Me? Oh, you know, bored housewife. Emphasis on the bored. Thought I’d take a little stroll.”
Casually, Preston pulled a familiar bladed tool from his belt, making Miranda’s heart beat faster.
“Well, I’m so glad we could run into each other like this. Pretty fortuitous.”
“…Oh?”
“Mmhmm… see, I think this is gonna go one of two ways. Either your hubby is going to come down here to the rescue - at which point I’ll cut his ugly face off again - and make it stick. OR he won’t, and I’ll carve the fucking baby out of you and let Jesse deal with the clean-up. Either way, it’s time for a little payback.”
As soon as the words left his mouth, Preston charged.
Miranda screamed, uncaring if the whole facility heard her, and ran.
She moved as quickly as she could back towards the hallway, nearly grasping the handle before Preston was on her.
His arms wrapped tightly around her chest as they rammed into the metal, making her yelp in pain and wrap her hands protectively around her stomach as she writhed in his grip, trying everything she could to break free.
Her foot collided with his knee, causing him to hiss out a curse and momentarily loosen his grip.
Miranda shifted, trying to use her weight to unbalance him; but it was too late.
One hand wrapped unforgivingly into her hair and Preston slammed her head into the metal door once, twice, three times until Miranda’s vision began to fade and her muscles relaxed.
The last thing she saw before everything went black was the steady red blinking of a security camera.
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Seating plan au part 7
Sins the last update had quite a bit of Adrian/felix drama I decided this update would show more of the gangs (Mari, Felix, Alix, Kim, Max and luka) friendship because I love them
link to part 6
Marinette doodles a lot in class, she has a little notepad full of em, sometimes when the class is going mad Mari and Felix draw little cartoons of the stupidity...Felix has a few masterpieces in said notepad of Chloe and Lila yelling at each other
Felix getting a weeks detention because of an “incident” at lunch *cough cough* Lila *cough* Marinette was in the art room helping Nathaniel and marc with a project and max was outside filming Alix teach Kim some skating tricks so Felix was reading in the lunchroom alone...and sins this was a rare Occurrence Lila jumped at the opportunity “Adrian you should go ask Felix to sit with us, he’s all by himself, you don’t want to leave him all alone do you?” So obviously Adrian being Adrian smiles and get up to ask Felix who just says he’s happy alone, Lila expecting this response says “well I’m gonna go sit with him” so she waltzes over and sits next to him “hey Felix, I couldn’t bear seeing you over here all alone, I know we haven’t been the best of friends and that hurts me deeply felix, so so much, so I thought I’d come over to make a fresh start” Felix give her an emotionless look and says “no thanks” Lila- “excuse me?” Felix-“I don’t need a friend like you” genuinely shocked Lila quickly puts on a fake hurt face “did I do something to hurt you? I genuinely don’t understand why you hate me so much, Felix? Everyone else in the class is so nice to me apart from you, what did I do?” “I just don’t like compulsive liars lie-la, now if you don’t mind I’d like to get back to my book in peace” annoyed Lila snaps “well then if you don’t wanna be my friend I guess that makes you my enemy *cue Evil smirk* wich probably Make your precious Marinette my enemy too...Doesn't it” Felix looks up with a murderous glare “leave Marinette out of this” Lila just laughed all fake nice “leave her out of what Felix? Where just talking” Felix gets up slamming his food tray down and spilling his drink all over Lila “you don’t even look at Marinette, if you even breath in her direction we really will have a problem” then he leaves and Lila tells everyone she was just talking about classwork and trying to cheer him up because he seemed down when Felix flipped out and threw his drink in her...so Felix got detention, once Mari heard about everything she was ready to throw hands
After the whole detention mess Alix convinces Marinette they should get payback on lila for felix (okay its more like she mentions it once and Marinette is totally game) so after school they wait back in the locker room and alix goes into lilac locker to set up a paint bomb that would set of once the door is open, the next morning alix (who’s secretly filming) and Mari wait eagerly, Lila opens her locker and her face is instantly covered in green paint, and thanks to the schools uselessness they couldn’t prove who did it, alix sent the video to the gangs group chat, felix will never tell them this (he will eventually...he just doesn’t know that) them being the gang, Alix, Kim, Max and luka when he’s around (damn it luka why don’t you go to their school) but he’s thankful every day that he found them, before starting public school (sins he moved in with the Agreste's as a child he was also homeschooled like Adrian) he never had a real friend apart from Adrian and even their relationship has issues, but the gang has taught him what real friendship is, true support and he’s determined to never let anyone *cough* Lila *cough* hurt them
Mari made a doll version of all the hero’s so far, herself LB, chat noir, bunnix, Renard arctique (Fox Felix) carapace and viperion, and because she a cutie on one of chat noirs visits she gives him the dolls and asks him to give each of the heroes’s there doll as a thank you for saving Paris so many times (she forgot at the time this meant Chat would be giving the lb one back to her in costume) Chat Definitelyasked Marinette to also make him an LB doll as he “wants the original due”
The gang never misses one of Kim’s swimming competitions, Mari made a massive sign with his name, Kim pretends to hate it but really he loves it, and always insists Luka and Felix hold it because there the tallest and they have to make sure Kim sees them “if he can’t see us he might think we didn’t show up which might make him think we don’t care which might make him sad and might make him lose the competition and we just can’t let that happen guys!” So they hold the sign and they all cheer Kim on and after they go back to the dupain-cheng bakery for celebratory sweets
It’s when Mari and Kagami go for one of there coffee catch-ups that Mari admits her feelings for Felix for the first time, Kagami admits her feelings for Adrian in return, Mari jokes that there both In Love with two oblivious idiots and Kagami says she’s glad to have Marinette as a friend, that she has someone to talk to about this stuff
Felix is on a pretty tight leash like Adrian, not as badly as Adrian, he’s still forced to model and do music etc but because Gabriel is an asshole and sees Felix as less of a priority because he’s not actually his blood, he’s not actually an agreste (Emilie will kick your ass when she wakes up for treating her nephew/adopted son like he’s not really part of the family hawkbitch) so when the gang are having sleepovers or going to the zoo he can’t always join, luckily Over the years he’s realised if he tells Natalie he’s studying no one actually checks to see if he’s actually there studying so he can leave and come a few hours later and nobody notices he was gone, he mentions this to the gang on one occasion and they all just go silent for a moment and then hug him, after that they all start doing little things to make sure he knows they notice him, and that they care, Alix sends him cat videos if he’s not replying in the group chat, she knows that most likely means somethings gong down in the agreste mansion so she sends them as a dissertation, Kim will ask felix to help him train at the pool because he knows felix likes being out of the house as much as possible, max goes over to “study” meaning they tell Natalie that and then max and felix read in silence, max knows felix isn’t much of a talker and for him (felix) just being there in the room is enough, sometimes talking isn’t needed, luka dose something similar, except insted of silence he uses music, once a week felix goes over to the house boat and they have a jam session, luka finds that sometimes music expresses how you feel a lot better than words, that was one of the first things they bonded over, Mari has felix over for tea multiple times a week, originally it was only once but after THAT day, realising just how neglected Felix really felt (even if he didn’t realise it yet himself) she was determined to make sure he knew he had a home, that he was always welcome in the dupain-cheng house, Felix noticed after a few weeks what they were doing, he asked Marinette about it and she caved and told him “we just wanted you to know we see you, we always notice when your not there....and I wanted you to know you always have a home with me” Felix then realised something that he would tell Marinette later, once they officially got together, he realised he does have a home, she’s his home
Sins Marinette is in charge of giving out the miraculous to people when they need the extra help (this is before the part-time hero’s become full part-time hero’s with patrols and stuff) she has a password-protected document on her pc full of graphs and lists of potential miraculous that would fit people, she thought about all the miraculous and who would be most compatible with who, who could she trust most, who would be able to put the needs of Paris first, who was good and honest, some people she thought about as potential miraculous holders where Adrian using the dog miraculous, Nathaniel using the rooster miraculous and aroura with the bee, and Marc with the mouse miraculous, this is how she made the decision for Alix to have the bunny miraculous, Felix to have the fox, Nino to have the turtle, luka to have the sake and for Kagami to eventually have the dragon, Kim the monkey and max the horse
Part 8
Tags-
@7-sage-7 @spicybelladonna @akana-sama
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jungle321jungle · 4 years
Text
As Cold As Stone Part Three
Dante Ekan’s newest case is a twenty one year old murder. It’s witnesses have remained silent all this time. So Agent Ekans seeks to change that.
He pokes, he prods, he bluffs, he lies, and he digs too deep.
But maybe the witnesses were silent for a reason.
Ao3
Tagging: @mae-is-ace @ashensanity
~~~~
Part Three
Dee gave a sigh as he entered the room. “You’ve been in here for what, four days?” 
Remus Prince gave him a wide smile (despite the large bruises on his face) from where he lay on the infirmary’s bed. “And they were boring as fuck!” 
“So you decided to smash your dinner tray into another’s man face to cause a fight?”
“No stupid. I smashed my dinner tray with my dinner on it, into his face to start a fight.”
Dee gave a second sigh, “Did I not tell you that I was going to get you out to show me where the body was? I was just waiting on the paperwork.”
“That sounds more boring than this. And in here I get painkillers!”
“I could tell them not to give you anything.”
The man gave a pout, “Who pissed in your cereal?”
“He was killed here sorta, okay? Can I go back to jail now? It’s cold as balls out here!”
Dee paused overlooking the area. There was nothing horribly special about it. A ring of trees with a decaying stump in the center. As a whole the area was a good distance from where Thomas’ body has been found. There was no way those boys could’ve dragged it that far while still running for their lives. 
The killer must have moved it themselves. 
But why?
It couldn't have been to keep people away from this area, a clear blood trail was left behind. A message maybe?  
“Is there something special about this place?” Dee asked. When he got no reply he turned to see Remus was looking up into the bare trees, “Hello?” 
Remus gave a shrug as he looked back down to Dee, “We used to play over here. Over there. All throughout this place. Can we go now? I’m cold.” 
Dee rolled his eyes, “Fine.”
~~~~ 
Dee gave a frown as he walked into his hotel room. It seemed in his eagerness to get going for the day he had forgotten to leave the door hanger out so the maid wouldn’t come.  
He moved to the desk and picked up the pile his papers had been put in and began to go through them one by one. While but was not what he had been hoping for, perhaps being forced to put things back in order would give him a chance to reevaluate (and maybe he’d find that one blank sheet that kept popping up to leave a note for the maid with her tip). 
After a half hour the room was restored to its former chaotic glory. Papers covering the floor around him spreading outward in a web that made sense only to him.  
But the notepad in his hand proved it worked. 
Because thanks to needing to go through all the files over again he had found an overlooked detail about Logan Ackroyd. Others in Dee’s position probably would have dismissed it entirely, but if one thing Dee was good at its twisting truth. 
“Agent Ekans,” Logan greeted. His face was a blank mask, but his tone showed his annoyance. 
“May I sit?” Dee asked motioning to the free chair. 
“It is a public space... But may I ask why you are here?”
Dee raised an eyebrow as he sat down, “Because I’m investigating the murder of your childhood friend?” 
Dee could already see his patience wearing thin. Good. 
“I meant here in this cafe,” Logan clarified. “If you truly needed to speak with me could it not wait until my break was over?”
“I didn’t think you’d want to speak about it in front of your coworkers. So when they told me you’d be here, I came.” 
The man gave a tired sigh, “What is it you’d like from me?” 
“I was reading up on all of you, and I noticed you had interned at the FBI in college. I was kind of surprised.” 
Logan’s attention was on his tea as he stirred it, “I was a forensic science and criminal justice double major. But what does that matter?”
“Well it’s just kind of crazy that of all the departments... you interned with cold case.”
“Given what happened to Thomas I could not help but be interested,” He shrugged before he took a long sip. “Also, I was interested in how past evidence that was preserved well enough could still undergo testing. Thus, that summer program seemed optimal as I wasn’t sure which of my two majors I wished to take the front career wise. And as you can see I ultimately chose forensics. But I fail to see how this is beneficial to you. I doubt you came to speak to me about how we nearly had the same job.”
Dee paused taking in that mask of a face watching him- taking in the face of the man who was analyzing him so critically yet calmly. Before he gave a sigh and rand a hand through his hair- playing into the role he had chosen, “You need to understand that what I am saying is for the case. I respect what you do, and quite frankly if you had chosen differently we would have worked together. But I have a case to work.”
“I understand.” 
“Thomas’ body was moved,” Dee stated. “After he was killed. It was a fact never released to the public. And supposedly it was put in files with everything else. And yet despite having  all the original documents, that detail is nowhere to be found. When I pieced together that it was moved and got confirmation from the policemen who had responded to the scene, it made me realize those details had been removed.” Dee forced a sigh. “So, given your precious stint at cold case and your involvement in the case I gave to ask... did you alter the files in anyway?”
Logan’s eyes narrowed, “You think I’d hide that?”
“I'm asking for the case.”  
“Tell me, why would I do such a thing? That would be protecting the one who killed my fr- who killed Thomas.”
“Because you’re scared,” Dee replied softly to which Logan gave a scoff. “When I spoke to Patton he made it sound as if even to this day that someone is watching him. I got similar feelings from the others too. So if you did do it, then it’s off the record. I just want to help bring the murder in. Logan... if this so called ‘Mister Sir’ is still-” 
“I think it’s time you take your leave,” Logan said suddenly. His tone was short, and his voice louder than Dee was sure he had intended. Logan took a breath trying to replace his mask as he spoke again. “I assure you Agent Ekans that I am fine. I can also assure you that I did not violate any policies or commit any crimes.” 
“Logan-”
“I have nine minutes left before I must head back. I’d like to spend them in peace?”
Dee gave a sigh before a solemn nod, “Alright. Let me know if you want to talk.”
When Logan said nothing more Dee heads out of the cafe, and thankfully he made it that long without breaking out into a smile. 
He was getting somewhere. 
And hopefully speaking to Patton Hart again would clarify where that somewhere was. 
~~~~
“Agent Ekans,” Patton said with a forced smile as he stepped out of his classroom to meet Dee in the hall. “What can I do for you?”
“I wanted to speak to you about the other witnesses,” Dee started. “Ackroyd specifically.”
Patton raised an eyebrow in confusion. “What about him?” 
“You two kept in contact over the years, right?” 
“Now and then...”
“Were you aware that in college he had interned for the FBI?”
“Yeah...”
“Good,” Dee nodded. “He was with cold case during that, and I am also aware that pieces of information were removed from the files on Thomas Sanders’ murder... And I was wondering if he ever disclosed anything to you?”
Patton’s mouth opened and closed in surprise, “Logan would never steal anything.”
“I simply need to consider every option,” Dee told him. “And I understand your allegiance to a friend, and your fear of Mister Sir. But I can’t help if you don’t let me.”
Patton’s face went white but he forced another smile on his face, “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
Dee nodded once and moved to leave, “If he does tell you something, or someone else does... I ask that you let me know.”
“Right...”
It was less than two hours later that the call he had been expecting came. 
“You were right Ekans. Records show that Hart texted each of the other witnesses.”
Dee held back a smile, “Even Remus Prince?”
“Yeah, I’ve got his phone here. They're all in a group chat and are planning to meet. You want the time and place?” 
“Please.”
~~~~
A few days later Dee arrived about a half hour early to the location. 
The meeting was to take place at Logan’s apartment. 
Dee sat in his car staring at the apartment building as he watched and waited for everyone to arrive. 
“How long are we going to wait here?” Remus groaned.  
Dee rolled his eyes. He had learned after picking Remus up from jail, that the man seemed to be more annoying off of drugs. He was quieter overall, but somehow he still managed to be annoying. 
“Just turn on the radio,” Dee muttered as he kept his eyes to the door. 
Almost fifty min had passed before everyone had arrived. And once they had, Dee waited longer before he pulled Remus along. He ignored the taller man’s grumbles and approached the building. He made sure to ring the landlord's buzzer, and after a quick conversation with the man he was allowed to head for the apartment. 
He could hear shouting coming from within as he approached.  
“Are you seriously that stupid!”
“What’s stupid is agreeing to come here in the first place!”
“Oooh, may I?” Remus asked. 
 Dee gave a shrug and stepped away from the door as Remus gave a few loud bangs on the door.  
The shouting silenced and there was a pause before footsteps grew closer. When the door opened Dee gave a smile, “I hope I’m not too late.”
Logan’s eyes narrowed, but he said nothing as he allowed Dee and Remus to enter his home. And when they did the other three looked their way.  
Virgil was seated on a couch, and at the sight his gaze lowered to the floor. Patton who sat behind him looked surprised, and Roman who was standing threw up his hands in exasperation, “Of course!”
Dee gave a shrug, “I couldn’t help but see that Remus was invited. So I did my due diligence and brought him. Now, might ask for the truth?”
“There is no truth to share,” Virgil stated quietly. “You’re right. We’re being watched-” 
“Virgil,” Logan warned but he continued. 
“We’re being watched,” he said again. “And not even the FBI can help. Instead you’ve put all of us at risk and yourself. So believe it or not I rather not die, so if you’d take your leave now it would be fucking appreciated.”
“How do you know that I can’t help?” Dee asked him, but Virgil shook his head in reply.  
“You can’t. Don’t you fucking listen?”
“He’s just trying to do his job,” Patton tried setting a hand on Virgil's shoulder, but Virgil stood from the couch. 
“Do you think he cares?” He yelled back. “Do you think he gives a fucking shit about anyone other than himself? I don’t! What happened in the past is that past! And I want to keep it that way! I was the youngest!” He took a deep breath. “I was the youngest and yet I remember every single detail of how Thomas looked when he stopped fighting back... and I don’t want to watch it happen to anyone else. So I’m sorry Agent Ekans. I don’t care if you have to arrest me, the past is past.”
“So elegantly said,” Remus mocked. 
Roman’s eyes narrowed, “You shut up. This is all your fault in the first place.”
Remus gave a casual shrug, as he moved to sit on the floor. “I didn’t tell him to open the case.” 
“Why did you start looking into this anyway?” Patton asked him.
Dee raised an eyebrow, “Because I work cold case? I’m given old cases somewhat at random and try to solve them? Oh, and do be aware that currently all of you are guilty of obstruction of justice.” 
“Add it to my tab,” Remus waved dismissively. 
Dee gave a groan, “Look. I just want to know the truth. Tell me what it is and I’ll be on my way. Who is Mister Sir? And is he the one who killed Thomas?”
“Yes.” 
Quite frankly Dee wasn’t sure which one of them had said it. But a pause had followed before all four were yelling at one another each shouting that whomever had spoken was going to get them all killed. Dee watched them silently taking in all the words he could, waiting for the slip up which would inevitably follow.  
He had watched, he waited, he listened. 
And for a moment his ears perked up at what sounded like a name, but it was lost to the yelling around him. Listening for it to come again, but instead the sound of a child-like voice brought the entire argument to a screeching halt.  
“We promised not to tell.”
~~~~
Part Two - Part Three - Part Four
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